hipster hangover *may contain expenses*

Hello All,


In an attempt to catch up with an elusive old pal I went to what I was expecting to be a fairly pretentious event… an ‘art’ car boot sale… as it turned out it was really good, some nice folk and some nice art… oh and some really nice cocktails. The event was off Brick Lane, it was on a Sunday so on arrival I made the usual complaint that as a ‘local’ Londoner… ‘Brick Lane is bloody horrible on a Sunday’ referring to the volume of people and the fact it is all ‘tourists’ . A former colleague of my elusive old pal misunderstood what I had said and looked me up and down saying that I was a  ‘textbook hipster’ and should fit right in. My elusive old pal sprang to my defence saying that I have been wearing the same clothes for over 10 years… which give or take the colour of my trainers is true. The friend of my elusive old pal then got me to pose for a photograph for her and then went on to tell me about gladiator sandals and the funny way that fashion comes in and goes out like a neon invested tide by a cultural sewerage works*. I took a little umbrage at this whole event as I do not see myself as a hipster but then I saw this…


Image **


It turns out I am a classical hipster… a hipster god of some sort…


In a more predictable but equally ‘seasonal’ harassment on the street… it is coming to the end of ‘Hangover’ season… for the last time (subject to DVD release and terrestrial showings in the future)… I am relived as what starts off as funny and a reminder that I should change my hairstyle and cut off my beard… does get annoying. When doing my charity run there was a lot of folk lining the hilly streets of Burnley (there is not a lot to do there on a Sunday) and as I passed I could hear the whispered words ‘hangover’ and ‘Alan’ as I ran passed by 6k I was totally annoyed at all the good people of Burnley and wished I had worn my Blackburn Rovers shorts and ignited the fierce local rivalry. I get it in pubs, at work and at my kids school… on Saturday I had an ‘attack of the Alans’ on the tube, I was part way through a very pleasant afternoon with my friend Dean, we had been visiting gastro pubs as research for a new job he is starting… a task I gladly agreed to help with… anyway we were heading towards the home straight of this delicious tour when I was accosted by a pretty Essex girl on the train… she too appeared to be part way through some delicious tour of her own as she sided up to me and rather beautifully said “YOU LOOK LIKE ALAN FROM THE HANGOVER CAN I HAVE A PICTURE YOU SHOULD BE A PROFESSIONAL ALAN FROM THE HANGOVER I BET YOU COULD GET LOADS OF WORK IN VEGAS BEING ALAN FROM THE HANGOVER HAS ANYONE TOLD YOU THAT YOU LOOK LIKE ALAN FROM THE HANGOVER I BET THEY HAVE… YOU REALLY LOOK LIKE ALAN FROM THE HANGOVER YOU SHOULD DO IT PROFESSONALLY” I let her have her picture taken with me but charged her a fiver…




Anyway… please can I have your expenses on my desk by the close of play Friday… if you need any help just shout down








*My words not hers, she writes a column for the Telegraph so I thought I better not use her words as they might be expensive.


**  http://todayilearned.co.uk/2013/06/13/classical-sculptures-dressed-as-hipsters-look-contemporary-and-totally-badass/


training shoes *may contain expenses*

Hello All,

Apologies for the lack of whimsy of late but they would have been filled with emotional torment and tales of chasing ladies around east London with mixed results… then I thought actually there is nothing wrong with that… in fact it is pretty much what I do. What ails me the most at the moment is my search for a little flatlet in Lower Clapton… but I have no new view point on this… flats are expensive and the people offering them for rent tend on the whole to be knobs*. I have started running** which is good… Rosie Lee has been helping me with the running in an act of unquestionable kindness/cruelty and I have sort of been keeping a training diary which you can look at below if you like talk of balls and pictures of shoes….

So please get your expenses to me by the close of play today and if you need any help please give me a shout

*Apologies to any landlords in the company who are not knobs

** Posting pictures of my trainers on the internet and complaining about stuff

Dominic’s Training Diary- Harvested From Social Media.

Day 1


Just done my first training run… I hate it when people come on facebook and talk about running…

I did 2 miles and did not pass out… I looked ok in my running stuff and was running around Shoreditch

so did not look like the biggest wanker by a long stretch..

I was wearing a nice pair of nikes probably too nice to run in…

Is this enough information or should I draw you a picture?

Day 2


Today is training day two… these are trainers too good to be running in two.

Decided to not run but power walk everywhere looking very impressive!

Day 3


Training Day 3… A picture of a cat playing guitar, the word athletic on my T-Shirt

and a pair of trainers too good to run in #3… I might even go for a run later…

as it is for a good cause.

SO interval training… it is much more training that interval. I am in a little bit of pain…

I wish there was some kind of liquid pain killer that can also refresh… TO THE PUB!

*insert picture of red tired looking man*

Where was the nice lady with the ice creams at every interval?…

instead there was a nice lady shouting at me!

Day 4


Training day number 4, trainers too good for running in number 4…


DISTANCE- Camden and back
TIME- Most of a Sweet Baboo album
BALLS- Sweaty

Day 5


Training day number 5, trainers too good for running in number 5…


DISTANCE- Thrice around the park
TIME- Machineries of Joy
OTHER JOGGERS- No nice bums
HAIR- Like shampoo advert in the wind

Day 6


Training day number 6, trainers too good for running in number 6…
Please note Crepe soles and fury tick… very nice if a little understated!


DISTANCE- To the office
TIME- Sweet Baboo most of again, I am falling in love with his chubby cheeks.
BALLS- Clanggy
OTHER JOGGERS- Overtaken by chubby old lady wearing leggings… picked up the pace and kept in front of her. I was starting to get traumatised
DOGS STOOD ON- All the dogs in the world were in bed dreaming of cats wrapped in bacon.
HAIR- I looked like I could be a roadie for The Levellers
SHORTS- Self contained

Day 7


Training day number 7, trainers too good for running in number 7…
I call these boys ‘Ambient Superstars’ because Jon Hopkins has a pair.

DISTANCE- From my Aunt’s house to work
TIME- Port St Willow album, some/most of
BALLS- Bouncy
DOGS STOOD ON- Word has got out in the dog community
HAIR TODAY- gone tomorrow

That’s all for now folks… I was confident before I was told about the hills on the course… Rosie Lee is now going to do terrible things to me on Monday just by Kings Cross!

The whys and wherefores…





mind the gap *may contain expenses*

Hello All



Last weekend my heart was gladdened by the news… this does not happen often these days. Normally the news brings a sigh and a pained expression to me and the girl from six boats down faces as we listen to 6 Music and plot indie pop world domination. Normally the news is full of death, rape, fire and futile cut backs that penalise the wrong people, and that is just the football round up. This Saturday a little story broke, a little tale of people going out of their way, of love, of non bureaucratic thinking and mostly a story of how things could and should be.

A lady misses her husband, she misses his voice, a voice that used to remind us not to fall between the train and the platform across the Northern Line…. a voice that had recently disappeared, not only from our ears but of the woman who misses that voice more than anyone else. When she asked for a recording of the message was this lady told that due to regulations unfortunately London Underground regretfully can’t help her in this matter? Was a half arsed gesture made involving the wrong recording and an email MP3?… No!!! London Underground went the extra mile, they not only found the recording but reinstated the message at Embankment so she could once again visit the station and hear the voice she so misses. An unprecedented example of a big clumsy and under threat organisation going an extra mile.


We are desensitised in these times as people are too busy and too focused on their own survival, we are used to call centres in sunnier climes with scripts that must be adhered to. We are used to the computer not only saying no but also reminding us that payment is due regardless of service interruptions according to the small print and any mistakes made or responsibilities are blamed and passed to others who are unavailable and unaccountable. I know it might be a little cheap publicity, I would like to think it is not… but why can’t more things be like this, red tape slackened and people allowed to make judgement calls without the filling of forms and requests being escalated to the management teams… I don’t know, I am a hopeless romantic (in both senses) but to me this was a little example of how things can be just a little bit better without being costly or effecting profit… just people being nice and really nice things happening that bring a little joy… We are not machines and accordingly should not be treated as machines…. I AM NOT A NUMBER I AM A FREE MAN…



That said if you could all have a scrape around in your desks and drawers and under your keyboards and at the back of your wallets and in your socks and have your expenses down to me by the close of play today and I will be happy in a different and much less/more meaningful way…






Your momma *may contain expenses*

Hello All



I could not help but notice that the mail tray was full of cards yesterday, the usual white window envelopes addressed to companies in business parks off roundabouts replaced by slightly oversized coloured envelopes addressed to ladies in lanes and avenues in towns across the land. At first I thought that people are really are starting to take Woman’s Day a lot more seriously… but then it struck me… Mothers Day is upon us… so I thought I would do today’s email on fishing and quad biking… actually today’s email is a short one because I am busy/have writers block/ have not done anything interesting/ am tired/ thinking about other things (see attached diagram for explanation)… So I hope all the mothers in the company are well looked after, that the expectant mothers are even more excited* and all the blokes do the right thing and pull their fingers out.


So please pop down and claim you expenses from me before 5.30 as it will be Monday if you come after 5.30… Thanks by the way… yesterday was a day of never ending cheque writing… I should be careful what I wish for.








*Yes excited… it is going to be fun.

an evening’s worth of lunches *may contain expenses*

Hello All

Following my recent spectacular failure at ‘bad cop’ emailing…  I am
returning to my preferred style of ‘possibly tipsy whimsical cop’

The girl from six boats down texted me tonight’s dinner menu (Sicilian
fish Stew, ‘posh’* bread, bottle of nice Italian red) and I texted
back that she made my heart sing… she answered back, how so? I said
like a drunken karaoke singer at the last chance saloon… I have not
heard back. Getting the tone right is not always easy whilst saying
the wrong thing or things wrongly is quite frankly a piece of piss. It
can be in the pursuit of romance that words fail to carry the message…
or worse still in the pursuit of sex… there can be no coming back from
getting the tone wrong in the boudoir… It can be with the family,
even now at thirty seven my mum can tell me I have gone too far
without saying a word.. It can be in the pub with friends when
everything you say makes you sound like a fruity liberal when you just
want to be one of the lads… It can be in the workplace where you can
accidentally miss hear the word ‘whore’ (horse was the word that was
said) and give a colleague completely the wrong impression of what the
afternoon holds for them… It can be on the internet where saying the
wrong thing can lead to new followers on Twitter who like to wear
bikinis or worse… I once had a facebook stalker who thought all my
status updates were related to her (I was prone to posting lyrics from
obscure indie records at this point in an attempt to make myself look
more interesting)… she started phoning me at work and telling me
when she had driven past my mum’s house and all sorts of crazy
business**…  the amount of trouble one can get in for saying the wrong
things is endless… Remember though the words that can cause the most
trouble if not used correctly are ‘I love you’ and not any words that
I have written about expenses in any of my previous emails *medium

So please any expenses you have please get down to my desk by the
close of play tomorrow (Friday). As a general rule please all keep on
top of your expenses and try and keep them within a month…

Have a fun weekend people and try and not say too much that might land
you in hot water, I will be at a boozy family party ‘up north’ so
doubt I will be able to practice what I preach…



*M&S or better
** I thought about it… but then thought better of it.

art hole *may contain expenses*

Hello All,

On my journey through the week I noticed that Dave in accounts was not the only angry Mancunian in the land (I know there are maybe millions of angry Mancunians at any one time but please bear with me)… Johnny Marr the very talented guitarist with The Smiths has banned David ‘down with the married with two kids’ Cameron from listening to his old band. He claimed that David (Cameron not Dave in accounts) is ‘not one of us’… fair enough Johnny but my friend nor are you dear boy.

To my mind once an artist has put their art out into the world it is not the role of the artist to say who can and can’t listen/read/watch/look-at/sniff their art… unless their art is terrible and the only people who listen/read/watch/look-at/sniff their art are friends awkwardly trying to find the right words (terrible and awful being the only words they can think of) when shown the artists work in the artist’s studio (dining room). Once you have set it free it is no longer your right to censor who gets to enjoy the fruits of your creative labour. Does Johnny Marr think that he built his homes all around the world on money from vegetarian students who swapped his music by cassette and lied to prospective girlfriends claiming to have gone to one of his concerts at some provincial student union… No Johnny is very fortunate, his music crossed social strata and more importantly decades… his wealth is based on universal appeal, outsider music that found a home in the hearts and minds of millions across the world… so unfortunately that means you are not going to ideologically agree with all of your fans… Morrissey on the other hand has problems of his own at exactly the opposite end of the spectrum… I was talking to a friend about The Smiths recently (the life I lead) and my friend said he had seen Morrisey in rather fine form, playing the hits, making his little wildesque quips generally being the genial front man. He was coming towards the end of his performance and shaking hands with literally every member of the front row of the ageing mosh pit… he went down the whole of the front row but the only person who’s hand he did not shake was a miniature Morrissey… a small but perfectly formed version of the man himself in his 80’s pomp… he just looked at him… pulled a face of mild disgust and moved on to the badly dressed sweaty middle management balding bloke on a once in a blue month night out. Awkward.

In the ideal world I am sure Barak Obama coming out as a Smiths fan would please Mr Marr more but you can’t cry about the fact that you are popular across class and generations… especially when your new solo single is so very terrible…

I was going to write a tribute to Robert Sutton the engine house of the print department but it turns out he is not dead but has been keeping a low profile after an incident with Peter Garrett which has left two members of the 2nd floor teams (Corey+1) hunting him down like the dog that he is… I would like to say more but as I am making this up… I can’t.


Expenses are ready to collect from my desk from now until later (5.30) the Bank of Dominic will be open again next week should you not be around today or like Robert Sutton spending the day hiding in a cupboard






beat the meat *may contain expenses*

Hello all



On holiday to France as a boy, I made a great noise about the fact I was going to eat horse. It was nice. “Tastes a bit like beef,” I thought. But now it transpires that horse and cow are interchangeable in the hallowed aisles of Iceland and Tesco, and we are all so shocked and appalled.


The thing I am upset about with this scandal is it is actually perfect for the government. I am not being partisan, but governments should never have ‘easy’ scandals, that would be no fun at all. Firstly, it mainly affects people who will never vote Tory – the poor, the unemployed, Kerry Katona and people from the northeast. Secondly, it is an opportunity to attack the French. But then the plot thickens and we can now attack people in Eastern Europe, people who are proud of their gypsy heritage. It is like a UKIP-planned disaster to rock the Daily Mail reader into turning on our poor and on our neighbours. Why was no fuss made when people started putting tins of turkeyham on our supermarket shelves?


I understand that people should know what they are eating, but when you look at the ingredients for, say, hot dogs and find out that they are made from 56% mechanically reclaimed chicken it is fair to say we have not being paying too much attention for quite some time.


The thing that is really shocking about this whole scandal is the effect of traffic laws on market forces. In Romania, the change in the law that stopped the horse and cart on the highways has lead to a drop in horsemeat prices that has acted as a catalyst for this whole scandal. Imagine if we decided to protect teenage girls from serious head injuries and embarrassing tight beige trousers and banned gymkhana, would our local butchers start selling horsemeat as a cheap, locally produced, quality alternative to beef? Probably not. One thing I am sure of is that if they had found fox in the food chain people would not be that bothered at all.


Horses for main courses


On beast and fish we all must dine

Enjoy and share these foods so fine

Sourced from freezers deep and wide

But what was sent down that abattoir slide?


Those beasts more noble than most others

We cannot dine on our equine brothers

Are standards primed and armed to double

At the first chance of French-based trouble?


We turn our attention to the pork chop

Safe by sight no clippity-clop clippity-clop

We should invade France and take hostages

But just don’t tell them what we put in our sausages



Please drop your expenses to me by the close of play