He was a tall chap.

For most of today I have had a telephone handset glued to my ear.

As a result by 5.30 I wanted either to scream down the damn thing or just throw it out of the nearest window. I am a typical bloke when it comes to the phone, I keep chats with friends and family to the bare minimum so you can imagine how I felt about spending a total of 5 hours on calls with "colleagues" today!

The working day eventually ended and this evening has a strange atmosphere as 30% has been advised that she is not at risk of redundancy but her best friend; Jules who she has known for over 20 years will be moving on. Earlier this week I also found out that my job is safe but there is a guilt that comes with surviving the cull and this is magnified when close friends loose their jobs. It is all quite bleak at the moment as colleagues go but the workload remains the same and their is no apparent strategy for implementing the changes that will be necessary to deliver a service with a significant reduction in personnel.

On a brighter note TP had Food Tech today at school so we dined on his Kofta mix with rice and salad and very good it was too. A glass of Riocha suited it to a tee.

I also made contact with the Vespa's Senior Consultant who advised that their preliminary tests results had all come back and so far there was nothing to worry about. He hoped to have a final diagnosis within a couple of days.

Now to the tall guy...

... anyone who knows me is aware that if Peter Jackson was casting for his film of the Hobbit I am more likely to be "Hobbit in background" than an Ent. The picture in my profile isn't a humorous caricature it was taken last year after I had a makeover/photo session that I won in a phone-in competition on The Jeremy Kyle Show.

Basically if you ask me to describe someone I will probably say they were tall unless I am talking about Ronnie Corbett or Danny Devito. Yes, in my world every one is tall.

A couple of days ago 30% and I were stood in the garden taking in the evening sun and I was stood on the step at the edge of the Terrace so 30% could tuck under my shoulder. YES - she is tall too! "This is nice" she said " I wish you were really this tall".

That got me thinking. I am quite happy being the height I am so what would happen if I was 9 inches taller. I'm not going to convert this in to centimetres. If you can't work it out you probably ought to be downloading MP3s, doing your home work or messaging people you think are friends on Facebook.

So, what would happen if I was suddenly 9" taller? Would I wake in the morning and go to pull on my magic pants only to find that I was trying to shove them on to my shins because my feet were much further away from me than when I went to bed? What would happen if I wasn't working at home that day and had to go in for a customer meeting? All of my trousers would terminate mid shin which isn't a good look when you are trying to convince a client that you understand their requirements and will produce a product that meets their needs at a price they can afford. I suppose once I was sat down I'd be OK but I'd need a cunning plan to disguise naked calves for the period between walking in to the room and getting sat down at the desk.

You would really need some style and panache to carry that look off. I would probably need to review my presentation and strike out the bit where I got up and drew a stick man on the flip chart.

It might be that my whole body grew in proportion but that would be no good either as nothing would fit so I end up going to work in shorts and a tee shirt that now looks like a bloody crop top. With my physique that is never going to be a good look.

Maybe I would shoot up during the day and suddenly start banging my head on low beams or door lintels.

No, the more thought I give to it, the happier I am being a short arse.

Don't try this at home.

People ask me, they say "tell me bad man, where you do get your ideas for your journal?"

In my bloody dreams.

I don't get a huge amount of feed back*. I get the occasional comment and readers who really know me will ping me on Dante's Instant Messaging System to ask if the chemicals are prescription or non-prescription in origin. They may also ask if 30% is a qualified psychiatric nurse.

But I'm starting to wander already, If you had to listen to the non-copyright, assumed to be inspirational, repeating loop of muzak that precedes all of the conference calls I have to attend you would do anything to try and drown it out. So Journal material jottings fill this time.

You must know what I mean. It is all pan-pipes, and rhythmic slightly ethnic drums and undecipherable vocals that only a teenager can actually hear. It may have been quite nice the first time I heard it but it has long since lost its novelty value and they may as well play Greensleeves on a stylophone.

So, that is one of the "down times" when my mind starts to wander and, as you may well have guessed, a stroll with Tyson and Marauder can also nurture the seeds of ideas.

I need to take a moment to offer a piece of advice to the Bear Man who kindly left a comment saying that he found the piece I scrawled on Spiders slightly amusing and that it resulted in him spraying coffee on his iPhone. Bear Man you need one of these. Note the logo on the back. They are "ruggedized" and there is no need to buy a skin or iPhone DRESS as I prefer to call. them.

Now where was I? Yes, It may surprise you to know that I do like the occasional wind up and poor TP does occasionally get his leg pulled. He is 13 and his sense of humour is developing nicely. He has a strong sense of the absurd combined with a cynical, sarcastic streak - that latter element must come from his Mother.

He also knows that all Monkeys are funny.

This is a fundamental law that is built in to the fabric of the universe. This is probably more in the quantum arena than the more quantifiable e=mc2 stuff . More "is the cat in the box dead or not dead - well its both". Think along the lines of - is the quantum monkey funny or not funny - The answer is "Yes". Mind you if a monkey weighs 10 Lbs how big a thermonuclear explosion could it make?

Anyway wind ups. Here are a couple of my favourites preserved for posterity here in the Journal.

A while back just before Marauder arrived on the scene I told TP and 30% that about 50 years ago there were only 5 names that you could legally give to dogs in the UK; Shep, Towser, Rex, Lassie and one that I couldn't remember. I had them both going for a moment or two until I said that the missing name was Whiffler. That was the point at which they groaned and said there was no way Marauder was going to be called Whiffler. Curse Them!

I know it sounds bloody ludicrous but apparently it was not until 1993 that French parents had the freedom to give any name they liked to their progeny. Prior to that there was a prescribed list. Mind you - with all the Chelseas and Chardonnays around in the UK you might wonder why they repealed it. Remember, base your cobblers on fact and it can become plausible.

The other night I managed to get 30% going for a moment when she advised that her favourite ice cream was Raspberry Ripple. I advised that in this era of Political Correctness it was no longer acceptable to call it Raspberry Ripple and was now know as differently able ice cream.

Finally and this is one that the Legal Guys have asked me to advise should not be imitated - when driving with an impressionable person in the passenger seat - shut your left eye (in the UK, right in most other parts of the world) and exclaim excitedly that you can drive with both of your eyes closed. See whether your passenger a) goes in to extreme panic mode or b) realises after the 3rd set of lights and second roundabout that you do not in fact have supernatural powers.

If they go for c) call you a stupid pillock drop them off a couple of miles from home in the rain - serves them right for not appreciating the joke.

* comments are always welcome. If they are non-complimentary I will just delete them. If they are nice I may even reply.