Christmas Shopping

Little Annie needed to pick up a dress for her works night out and of course being the nosey sod I asked to tag along.

Never does things by half does our Annie so its into town (the big town that is not the little piddly ones that I call town). Glasgow city center 3 weeks till Christmas fucking mad house. I did notice some differences between shopping in Glasgow compared to the suburbs.

1) The female staff are totaly gorgeous!!!! They could have asked me to try on a pair of knee high boots and chances are I would have said yes...or just said no its OK just ring the up I'll try them when I get home.

2) There are tons of them.....hot young women running about a crowded store bending over every 3 seconds my eyeballs nearly popped out. That's a great sales tactic, hit em hard hit em fast and hit them from all sides. It's like Blitzkrieg but with tits and ass all over the place.

3) Blond haired guys wearing hats with there trousers round about there ankles (wearing striped rainbow coloured boxers) have to stay at least 50 feet away from me at all times or I'll kick them in the balls so hard they will need a hat to hide the baw shaped dents in there foreheads.

4) Guys in vintage clothes shops get all the snatch...fashion sense and access to old tatty crap equals good times from impressionable young lassies.

5) Don't buy food from vendors on the street. Not cause its a rip off price wise or the food hygiene levels are sub standard, its mainly that these poor sods somehow think that you buying something from there kart somehow makes you a friend of there's and will progress to talk fucking pish AT YOU for the length of time you are being served by them.

FUCK YOU! give me my freezing cold burger with "Cheddar Cheese" (odd that you can now get authentic Cheddar cheese in the form of a processed slice freshly unwrapped before your eyes) and let me be on my way.

Oh and number 6 I do love my Little Annie to death and wouldn't trade a second with her for anyone else.

Mr Bison

That Time Of Year

Well, Well, Well it's getting to the highlight of most peoples years...THE END!

Being Scottish puzzles me sometimes as we do like to drink and we do love to party but at no such time more than New Year. We have our own word for it (Hogmanay) I mean I tried looking into other countries to see if they have there own names for it but fuck it I'm quite lazy on Saturdays. We love this time of year statistically we spend more than anyone else (that's personal spending) on Hogmanay celebrations. What I'm thinking of these days is what are we celebrating?

Is it the end to a great year?
Is it to forget the fucking crap year you have just been put through. The cold, the rain, the neds?
Is it to celebrate the fact that a new year has come at long last? One where all out hopes and dreams are realised? If so when do we stop then...when do we know when they are...or do we just keep going on hoping for the best?

I mean up in Stonehaven they swing 2 Meter wide balls of fire over there heads. Have you been to Stonehaven? I thought it was a little sleepy coastal town...now its like the island from "The Wicker Man".

I mean these guys have baws.
Mr Bison

Manager Bison 4

Well folks I came back from my Managers course a new man. After 8 days over the last 6 months I have been kicking ass and taking names at this great big manor house in England.

Now all the my efforts have born the fruit of hard work and sacrifice. I passed not only the course but my work based assignment has been deemed (by an independent body of adjudicators) to be a great analysis of management behaviours and how they can improve working conditions. For all my hard work i was awarded the highest honour with a Pass of 86% I was the only person in my team to gain a distinction.

I have to admit I did tear up a bit when I was asked to say a few words in front of the group but I managed to hide it well.

I don't think I have even been more proud of myself and the work I do, but at the same time sad for the fact...it doesn't mean much to anyone else how well I did. I can understand why some people don't bother trying to excel at things like this. They just turn up and go through the motions get drunk at the bar every night...I actually enjoyed trying to change the way I think and work.

I met some great people and even know stories of my exploits have reached people around the depot as everyone know associates Scotland with "that big guy...you know the one...hes dead funny." I really enjoyed doing it and I was amazed I fitted in so well with other people that I couldn't have less in common with even if i tried.

Mr Bison
Proud to be a swat