Andrew Parsis Conquers

Like That Film, The Stormy One

Recently I was what I like to call “Internet bored”. By that I mean I was in a kind of web-induced trance, shuffling my way about cyber-space, going nowhere, not really taking anything in. I even got so bored at one point that I Googled “ Liposuction surgery “ followed by “ why are tigers so mean to all the other animals, I mean unnecessarily MEAN?” Google didn’t come back with much. I think it was falling asleep and had More

Suited booted- but for what?

Usually working men find themselves forced to squeeze themselves into a suit they don’t want to buy but they have to anyway. They also buy cars that they don’t really like but buy it anyway cause they have money to burn and want to show off. They also burn more by getting themselves a Vertu which is nothing more than a Nokia in space grade metal which will not break if dropped from 7 stories. But I hate it, why More

The Jungle Is Calling

We all strive for a bit of normality in our lives. Some of us strive for a better career, or more money, while some of us are more concerned with travelling the world and only use our work as a catalyst for the money we need to get that done. Whatever it is that you do, though, I think it’s important to remember one key thing: normality is all well and good, but every now and again we need to More

The Un-spoken And Un-written

The journey through life is fraught with grave difficulty and trouble, you only need watch Lord Of The Rings to know that. It’s a constant, never-ending struggle against having enough money, saving enough money, and spending enough money so that your friends don’t accuse you of being seriously tight in the pockets department (which is a lot better than Lord Of The Rings, I suppose; I think i#d get fed-up with fighting wizards and warlocks after a few days). But More

Long Live The Employee

Being employee is a ’hell on earth'as some of my ’self-employed'friends would declare at a dinner party on Saturday night after the second shot of whisky and the third Budweiser. And probably they are right, if as an employee they see some boringly dressed clerk, with a tie that does not even match his watch colour and with shoes a size bigger so that he can wear them next year as well. But they, my dear materialistic friends who lack More

My Old Friend

Last week I was struck by monumental disaster: happily tapping away on my keyboard, I looked down at the bottom right of the screen and was alarmed to see that the damn computer didn’t seem to be charging, a common problem due to my adaptor looking like something dragged off the set of a documentary about really rubbish computer cable pug things. I mucked about with it, but alas it wouldn’t work! My computer, it seemed, was quickly running out More

To the attention of the London Science Museum Manager

My husband and I visited the Science Museum last Friday afternoon. My husband is a retired naval officer and has always wanted to visit the museum. It was part of our weekend break.

The quality of your collection certainly impressed us. You have many familiar ships and photographs that reminded my husband of his days at sea.

However, our visit was spoilt by a group of rowdy youths visiting at the same time as us. There were about ten of them, from a college we think, although we didn’t see a teacher with them at all. As we moved around the museum we had to endure their constant shouting, screaming and bad language. When my husband asked them to be more considerate, he got a mouthful of abuse.

I would have hoped that a museum with a reputation such as yours would have taken better care to ensure that all customers of the museum are considerate and that young people are adequately supervised.

Yours sincerely

Mrs M Parker

May I say that it was such a bad experience that we should have probably stay at home. By the way I have asked my daughter to type this letter on the internet because as you might presume I am a bit too old and a bit too silly to work with computers. I would like to tell you that with age lines and wrinkles have come to life for me. It was very unpleasant at first seeing my beautiful face being damaged by the marks of time but after all it is up to you to determine the way in which you will grow older. Like a cathedral or like a pair of old boots. You need to keep looking after yourself at any age!

CBBC: Saviour Of Not Only Children But Men (And Women, And Maybe Even Bored Cats And Dogs)

In my humble opinion (which probably doesn’t count at all, seeing as I am an adult and thus banned from being opinionated about such things as you will now find out), there’s not much good about children’s TV. It’s like Luton Airport Parking : the same old same old, and if this were a bad analogy, which it is, then all the cars going round and round trying to find a place to park would be like all the shows More

Bus Be Goooood

Like it or loathe it, travelling on the bus is part of our journey through life. Unless you are a close relation of Alan Sugar (in which case you’ll be very, very smug about being able to take advantage of Alan’s very own private jet) or are Alan Sugar himself (in which case you wouldn’t be reading this and would, alternatively, be considering who next to fire) then you will be forced to travel on the bus. Although people complain More

Being Chris Is Hard

The following is a short story a friend called Chris passed onto me. I thought you might like to read it, so here goes (and it’s bound to be more interesting than the one my other friend passed onto me about Self Esteem Coaching london, seriously, think yourself lucky I spared you that one)…

“When I was born with what I then thought was the fairly prestigious name of “Chris” I thought Yes, nice one, it’s much better than Nigel or Paul or Winny. Especially Winny. Yes, there was a lad at our school named Winny and he couldn’t go five feet without hearing the word “Poo”. And to think, his mum and dad thought they had done well because they had given him a “unique”name…

So I was happy enough on that first day of school. Apart from wetting my pants and everything, but that comes with the territory when such fear is unleashed on a naive and fragile soul. I thought I was fairly original. Until I walked into registration and sat down and discovered a horrifying truth that Nigel, Paul and most definitely Winny would NEVER Have to contend with: yes…I was but one of eight Chris’s in my class. As if that wasn’t bad enough, there were about twenty six Chris’s in the school, and two of the teachers were called Chris. Add to that the fact that, as our teacher used to put it (who was called Chris), “it’s the best name because it comes from Christ and Christ was good” and the bullies had enough ammunition to take the mickey out of us twenty six Chris’s for the next few years without it ever becoming boring (for them, I mean: it certainly became boring for us).

I thought it was over. Walking out of that first registration and being only about three feet tall, I started to cry. Cry: I was just another Chris in a crowd of Chris’s!

But then, suddenly, something fantastic happened: I found out by accident that there were actually thirty three “Mark’s” at the school, which meant that it wasn’t going to be so bad after all. Thank goodness for that, I thought. I am saved!”