GingerNinja.net

I received an e-mail from Kev today asking if I had set-up an online pharmacy.

Yes. Had me confused for a moment there too.

Turns out someone has purchased a domain called ginger-ninja.net which is obviously almost identical to my own domain gingerninja.net. Not only that, but this individual is also using the site to sell medical items of a somewhat dubious nature. I’ll give you a taster:

Buy Cheap Viagra, Discount Viagra, Kamagra jelly, Kamagra, Apcalis and many more erectile dysfunction treatment solutions by Ginger Ninja!

Does that really sound like something I would do?

You’d think that after 21 years as my best mate, Kev would have known better than to ask. But, I said to myself, maybe Kev had only my best interests at heart? Afterall, a hacker can still get in and takeover a website if the admin has been rather silly with their security procedures. Maybe Kev was simply ensuring that it wasn’t my site and to ensure that I didn’t have a major problem. It doesn’t hurt to ask afterall and he’d me doing me a favour if that is the case.

And then it hit me. There is also always the possibility that Kev was looking for some assistance with his upcoming wedding and was hoping I could supply him with something to keep his ….morale… up on his wedding night? I’m not sure but I really do wonder if supplying little blue pills is above and beyond the call of duty for a Best Man.

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No, not me. Had one of those commute’s this morning where everything worked against me. Not only did I oversleep due to not feeling well (I’ve caught Jo’s cold) but when I got to the station I couldn’t catch the train I wanted as it was running late and I would miss my connection. So I ended up waiting on the platform for an extra fifteen minutes for the direct service and faced the thick end of being nearly an hour late for work.
When I arrived at Stratford, it had become even hotter outside which is great if you are spending the afternoon in the garden but not if you have to wait on the platform for the DLR for another seven minutes. All was well and good at this point as I continued to watch Clerks on my Video iPod, which I had ripped from my DVD copy last night, until we reached a station around All Saints where we just sat there. Apparently the train in front had broken down and we were going to be stuck there for some time.
At this point we get to the subject of this little blog entry. A mouth-breathing young man with a shaved head dressed in a trackie top, jeans and sandals got on and sat next to me. This wasn’t a problem except he reeked of weed and I don’t mean a little. He could have felled cattle with his stench. It certainly made me retch when he first sat down. He’d clearly been enjoying his morning with Mary Jane as he started grinning around the carriage like a buffoon, giggling at the adverts on the walls. Again, more amusing than anything, as I continued to watch Clerks (which he noticed as he peered over my shoulder).
Then he coughed.
Without covering his mouth.
A small wad of phlegm flew out of his mouth and landed on my hand.
I duly pulled a face that looked like I had sucked the world’s largest lemon and glared at him as I looked for somewhere to wipe it off. He just looked at me without apologising, mouth open and eyes vacant.
That was enough for me at this point and I duly got up and moved to the doors to get some fresh air and remove myself from the target zone of his projectile coughing. He then proceeded to yell at the Passenger Agent to get a move on despite the announcement that the train in front had broken down and we would be another ten minues or so, before checking that his lump of weed resin was still in his pocket and returning to his grinning and giggling.
I ignored him and returned to Clerks from the safety of the door well, but not before surreptitiously taking his photo……
 

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I’ve had a couple of messages over the past week from old friends from my Haven & Pontin’s days where I’ve been referred to as Johno. The following keeps popping up in my head…….

Me: Johno? Johno… Now, that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time… A long time.
Junior: I think my uncle knows him. He said he was dead.
Me: Oh, he’s not dead… Not yet anyway.
Junior: You know him?
Me: Of course I know him….He’s me!
*pauses*
Me: I haven’t gone by the name of Johno since before you were born.
*looks away reflecting on the past…at Camber and Littlesea*
Me: I have something here for you. Your father wanted you to have this when you were old enough, but your uncle wouldn’t allow it. He feared you might follow old Johno on some damn fool idealistic summer season show like your father did. It’s your father’s jacket. This is the weapon of a BlueCoat. Not as clumsy or as random as a Red Coat, but an elegant weapon for a more civilized age. For over a thousand generations, the BlueCoats were the guardians of fun and laughter in the Old Holiday Camps. Before the dark times. Before Ibiza.

But I am an old man and my powers are weak….

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As only some family and friends are aware, my great-great-grandfather changed his name from Sepke Ykema to Charlie Ikel when he emigrated from Friesland in the north of the Netherlands (Holland) as he thought it would be easier for the English to pronounce. How wrong he was! Incidentally, he chose Charlie as that was his nick-name on the docks. None of his East London co-workers could say Sepke correctly, so they called him Charlie instead and it stuck.

Anyway, did a quick search on Facebook for Ykema to see how common it is. There are LOADS of them in the US and Canada, but I am guessing that they are probably not related. Having said that, I don’t know about much about Charlie’s brothers or sisters so it may be possible.

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It suddenly occurred to me that I haven’t posted anything to my blog in quite a while. Well, mainly around the time I realised that I could automatically feed this stuff onto my Facebook page. This is a bit pants on many levels including the fact that it was my New Year’s Resolution to actually update the site.

So, this weekend I was a little bit of a party animal. Pete & Michelle turned 29 and 31 respectively last week. As one of Pete’s close mates and Michelle’s favourite cousin (obviously) and the reason that they got together I couldn’t not turn up for drinks. Jo was originally going to be coming over as well, but we quickly realised that the train fare was going to be around £20 and it would be a four hour return journey for about an hour and a half of pub time. She sacrificed herself for my drinking time and so I was able to go along *sniff* and drink until it was time for my last train home. So off I went for an evening of drinking, laughter, plums, drinking, rude bar staff from Eastern Europe, impromptu Queen songs, drinking, being special and partaking in a floor show for the benefit of a mini-cab driver.

Many thanks to Katie, Becky, Hazel, Justin, Joanna, Leanne, Amos, Lauren, Ashley and of course Pete and Michelle for making sure I had a fab and brilliant night out. Cheers!

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Just finished trimming my privets (not a euphemism for anything) and I am absolutely knackered! Still, on the plus side, next-door haven’t done theirs in yonks so our front looks fabulous compared to theirs.

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