I'm Mandy Fly Me
Mood:  lazy
Now Playing: The Penny Whistle
I took a trip out to Fairoaks this morning to see how the new security arrangements are working out. It looks like the lads there have got it working much better than those muppets at Heathrow, but I suppose the fact that you only have top secret spying missions flying out of there helps. Still I took along a few Tesco and Sainsbury's bags along with me just in case. It'll be nice to know they're there when I next fly out.
It's not only airports that are suffering either. The new Russian security detail have set up some new measures of their own at the Synagogue. Just like an airport you can't take any liquids into the building, which upset Mr Mikelstein who likes to take a little refreshment in with him to make the whole thing bearable. The thing that has pissed me off the most though is their claim that only specially screened skull caps can be worn. They'll rent them to you at a fiver a service, and they make sure they get them back as soon as that idiot Goldberg finishes his sermon. It's a real rip off, especially as I'd had a special Kevlar one made just for me. Well you never know when someone is going to take a pot shot at you.
I'll be spending the rest of the day making up a coded message for Tel Aviv. There's an interesting new Bedpan design which is being tried out at the hospital. Shaped just like Osama Bin Laden's head and it's proving very popular, especially the fact that you do your business through his open mouth. It also has the added bonus that the turban part provides some nice cushioning to your nether regions.

Shalom

I'm leaving on a Jet Plane
Mood:  not sure
Now Playing: The French Horn
All go yesterday at the airports eh. Looks like my plastic bags were a big hit, maybe I should put Benny onto it, looks like there's a slot in the market for see through luggage.
Of course airport security is not what it was, when I was doing my summer job at JFK all those years ago these scumbags wouldn't have stood a chance. My Mossad training meant I could sniff out a terrorist from 100 yards and they all look the same anyway, normally some f***ing Arab. I remember Mossad gave us really nice suits to wear, and we looked much trendier and smarter than our CIA comrades over at the US airline check in desks. Just goes to show, you can't beat a Jewish tailor.
Of course I've been involved in terrorist events at airports, my actions in the famous massacre attempt at Fairoaks is the stuff of legends. I actually got my picture on the noticeboard at the Mossad HQ in Tel Aviv, although some joker put it directly next to the one of Carlos The Jackal, they were jokers down there, still makes me laugh to this day.
Anyway it's just as well I'm not going to be flying for a little while, my terrorist detector would be going into overdrive, and I haven't got the time to work out how to smuggle all my gadgets onto a plane including my fold up Uzi. I sure as hell ain't going to put it in my luggage, some of those baggage handlers are well dodgy if you ask me, as far as I know none of them are Jewish, and if they are they don't use the same synagogue as me.
I'm glad it's the weekend coming up, could do with a break, plus I'm falling behind a bit with my dispatches to the Homeland. There's quite a lot I need to inform them of, it's putting it into the latest code that's taking the time. typical bureaucrats, you get used to one way of doing things then they come along and change it. You can tell they've never been in the field.

Shalom

Airport
Mood:  lazy
Now Playing: The Violin
Don't you just hate early morning phone calls? There I was tucked up in bed, holding on tight to my Action Man (you know the one with the Eagle Eyes and the 14 different phrases such as "Officer you can shove that Breath testing kit up your arse, I work for Mossad")who I'd specially dressed up in his own little black outfit when out of the blue I heard the phone ring. What pissed me off the most was that it wasn't the Tel Aviv hotline, but my normal BT one. Now normally I'd ignore it, I've had enough drunks call me up in the middle of the night telling me they think their next door neighbour is a Russian spy, but for some reason I decided to answer it.
Well you could have knocked me down with a stale Bagel, it was the Duty Trolley Manager and he wanted me to get down to the Hospital quick, and to bring the fastest VW in the west. Something was going on down at Heathrow. Well I leapt out of bed, obviously it was all hands to the pumps down at the Hospital and I'd no doubt that a special Operating Theatre had been put aside for me to work in. I was in the VW as quick as a flash and revved it up as I left the driveway. I was racing through the dark deserted streets of Tooting at speeds which at times must have approached 35 MPH. The DTM was waiting for me at the door with a few boxes which obviously contained some sort of high tech gear. He told me to stay in the car while he loaded them, mumbling something about some terrorist thing at Heathrow and special security measures. I sat in the VW feeling smug as at last my talents were being recognised. When there's a crisis in town only the best will do. Telling me to put Pedal to the Metal I sped off for the Airport. Well I wish I could say it was a smooth ride but do you know how badly Heathrow is signposted from Hammersmith? I must have driven round there about 4 times and even thought about taking the Underground but that wasn't an option as it was closed. The VW does have a GPS system but I don't know how it works, never had to bother with it, I'm normally driven to and from my secret ops. Anyway I got there eventually, a harried looking cop picked up the boxes and told me to f***off back to London. A fine way to treat a fellow security officer I must say. What was in those boxes? Turns out that all I was moving was boxes of plastic bags. Still, played my part in a national security crisis and for that I'm quite proud, even better the DTM gave me the rest of the day off.

Shalom

Off Duty
Now Playing: The Kazoo
I don't think I'm gathering much intelligence at the Hospital at the moment. It's the usual routine of pushing people from one room to another, making sure I don't snag Mr Smith's Colostomy bag in the lift doors on the way, or accidently shoving some dirty stinking tramp into the bin. I'm not sure what benefits the homeland's health service is going to reap from my time here. Yes I've learnt a lot about what makes a good Hospital trolley, but that's hardly rocket science, all you need is four good wheels and a little bracket for your Uzi. I would steer clear of those companies who make the trolleys for Supermarkets as well as Hospitals though. They may be cheap but their trolleys have a mind of their own.
Anyway, last night while I was turning my latest dispatch to my masters back home into an unbreakable code, I was thinking where did it all go wrong. Not so long ago I was doing a great job on an Underground railway somewhere in London. There I was regarded as the master in motivation, and was always ready with a word or two for anyone who would listen. Now I feel like an outcast. I'm not allowed to talk to the patients as my boss thinks I talk too much. The only ones I can communicate with are normally deaf, and even they struggle as Mossad's unique sign language is only understood by an elite few. I think I might ask for a change in assignment, although the only way I managed that before was to get myself deliberately fired from my last one.
I guess all this has come up because Benny seems to be doing so well. I see his outfits all the time on TV, although I do get annoyed that the programmes seem to have been shot almost exclusively in trendy Black and White. What has struck me the most is how many skinny people wearing Benny's outfits manage to get together in one place. It's a testament to his marketing I suppose although making out they're being shot is taking things a little too far.
Ok, time to dig out the Mountain bike and do what Floyd Landis couldn't do without taking some sort of additive in his Orange Juice. That's right I'm off to Tesco's in Croydon.

Shalom

I've got the NHS Blues
Mood:  down
Now Playing: The Glockenspiel
I hate my job, but then again don't we all? It seems like my idea for the all black uniform (including mask) has been turned down. They reckon it'd be too expensive but I can't see that. The uniforms wouldn't need cleaning so much as black doesn't show up the dirt, and trust me working in the NHS these days is a pretty dirty job.
I don't know why I bother making all these suggestions if they're never going to take them up, my idea for bugging all the phones was rejected on the grounds of infringing people's rights, but I can't see that argument, listening in to other people's conversations is all part of the fun. Don't even start me on my idea for issuing all Hospital staff with Uzi's and Tazer guns, I was even willing to do all the training myself to help save the odd shekel or two. So I've decided I won't bother coming forward with any more ideas, I'll keep them to myself, and the next time the Hospital is having a spot of bother down in A&E instead of wading in and sorting it out, they can go and kiss my arse.
Had a surprise phone call from Benny last night, his last little clothing collection has gone down really well in countries where genocide is a popular pastime. He was a little regretful that he hadn't come up with the idea years ago as he'd be a millionaire by now. He's enjoying life at the moment it seems and wants to know if I'd like to team up with him again. we haven't really worked together since the Iranian embassy siege all those years ago, and even then it was a cock up. You may have seen the picture on the website where he is allegedly using a stun Bagel. Well if truth be told he'd brought his lunchbox instead of the stun Bagel box so what we threw in there was a Ham and Cheese Bagel. It was on the turn though so chucked up a bit, no wonder the terrorists cleared out pronto, even I couldn't handle being in the same room as that for more than five seconds. Ahhhh, happy memories.

Shalom

Rocket Man
Mood:  don't ask
Now Playing: Flute
So it's Monday again, and I have to drag my weary carcass into work. Like most people I find my job a drag at times, but unlike most people I have good reason to be bored from time to time. When you've spent a fair chunk of your life either mixing with gangsters, or carrying out top secret operations for the Israeli intelligence service, pushing old biddies around on trolleys or in wheelchairs leaves you with a feeling of anti-climax.
I have to keep telling myself that what I'm doing is for the greater good of the homeland, and what I'm learning here will make sure that Israel's health service won't make the same mistakes. It's like when I set up that Monorail service for Walt Disney in Florida, all the little errors that we came across there will make the new Monorail systems in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem that much more efficient should they ever get built. Those schemes have hit a bit of a brick wall, partially to do with money, partially to do with the prospect of them being hit by Arab rockets, but mainly over a copyright issue. Apparently the Walt Disney organisation were none too pleased about me copying their idea of having geezers dressed up as Mice as Station Assistants. It's not so much the concept but the fact that these blokes would be carrying Uzi's that upset them most. So until one of us backs down the plans gather dust. I think the Underground railway is more of a likely prospect but that has its own problems too, and is a whole book in itself.
By the way, lovely Bagels yesterday, nice and warm they were, cycling is the way to get up to Brick Lane these days, plenty of railings to park your Bike on plus you don't have to pay that dopey congestion charge thing. I find the biggest problem up there these days is the language thing. Years ago fluent Hebrew and a bit of English was all you needed, also being a Jew got you a discount. Now you have to speak some language which I haven't quite mastered, but worst of all I have to pay top price for Bagels, thieving bastards, changing our culture for good they are.

Shalom

My Name is Bond...James Bond
Mood:  lazy
Now Playing: The Tuba
There is something about going to the Synagogue that I can't quite put my finger on. Sometimes I leave there feeling spiritually uplifted, especially if there were some illicit Bagel sales going on. Others I feel thoroughly depressed as I have to sit through a load of religious claptrap which seems to be the whole reason the place is there.
Yesterday was one of those though that left me feeling a little odd. Sure the two scarves I have managed to knit in Israeli Army khaki were well received, and I've been promised that our boys down in Southern Lebanon will appreciate my efforts. However I can't help wondering what I've done to offend Councillor Liebeman who has been very cold and off handish to me lately. One thought that crosses my mind is that he is jealous of me. You see for almost 40 years I've been involved in some sort of action, be it running on the field in the 1966 World Cup final, rubbing shoulders with Hollywood stars, or gathering intelligence as part of an elite team of "brake blockers" on an Underground Railway network in the London area. Councillor Liebeman on the other hand has always been a pen pusher. Admittedly he is a Pen pusher with some pretty important contacts, but he has never done the things I have. I think that has begun to get his goat a little lately. He has never "donned the black" and it's now unlikely he ever will. So I think his attitude towards me is merely jealousy and not the fact that he got a bill from Mossad's technical department for the jetpack I used during my recent graffiti investigation.
Benny once again sneaked into the back of the Synagogue, he's grown a little moustache now and his appearance reminds me of someone, but I can't quite think who. As for the new security team, well they are Russians and they don't do much except stand there and look menacing. They didn't even bother to follow the team from a new TV station who were filming yesterday. I ended up trailing them myself...well you never know.
Anyway as it's Sunday today I'm off down Brick Lane to get some Bagels, should be nice and warm if I cycle fast enough.

Shalom

Video Watching
Now Playing: The Steel Guitar
Well as I mentioned yesterday was the day I was given the opportunity to try out some of these new uniforms the Hospital are thinking of getting. Well first impressions weren't good. For a start none of them were in Khaki or had a camouflage design. More like a plain old Navy blue, and anyone who knows me knows that I think the Navy is an organisation for poofs, floating around for six months with a bunch of other geezers and no prospect of seeing any action. No wonder it attracts that sort of bloke. Not like the other services where action is a daily event and a man has to be a man.
Anyway I'm trying on these uniforms and you can tell who probably had a hand in designing them. The first one reminded me of those days I was working at JFK airport for Mossad. It was really tight around the chest, and was the sort of thing we used to see the CIA guys wearing, and you could always tell they were packing. Now the second one was a much more generous fit, and almost certainly made by a Jewish bloke, we may be tight fisted in most cases, but when we make a suit, there's always room to grow, means you don't have to buy another one for a long time. Whatever though, I thought they were both crap, and my recommendation for an all black outfit complete with masks so we can all remain anonymous has been taken away for discussion.
Spent last night catching up on my video taping watching Israeli missiles slam into Lebanon, I'm not really sure what's going on here, I'd have thought by now those stupid f***ing Arabs would have worked out by now that everytime they shoot one at us, we shoot twenty back. Anyway I'm sure the lads are having great fun, only wish I was there but my tasks for the homeland are a little more covert these days.
OK got to get ready for Synagogue.

Shalom

Apologies one and all
Mood:  chatty
Now Playing: The Tubular Bells
I can only apologise to all you Mossad fans who missed your fix yesterday. However on Tuesday night I got a phone call on a crackling phone line. It was Fidel Castro's surgeon. He needed a little bit of help. You see the Cuban health system and general infrastructure is a mess. They can't afford electricity, and medicine is very primitive (at least that's what the CIA reports I've read reckon). So to perform surgery using only candlelight and one of those plastic knives you get on aircraft is a common event there. However Fidel Castro is one of the elite, and therefore gets special treatment. Not only could they perform the operation using a bright torch, but he gets the added benefit of metal cutlery. So why the phone call you may ask. Well it turns out that in the last few weeks a couple of Israeli Army knives have come into the possession of the Cubans. However whilst they could find the can opener, and the thing you use to get stones out of Horses Hooves, they couldn't find the blade. In their panic they knew there was only one person to turn to and that was me. You see me and Fidel go back a long way, you see those green uniforms a lot of them wear. That was a job lot of old Israeli Army uniforms I was asked to get rid of after the six day war, we found out they hadn't been made in Israel but in a sweat shop in the far east, therefore they weren't Kosher so we couldn't use them. Anyway I got rid of them for a couple of boxes of Cubans and some Cigars. Don't know what happened to the Cubans, probably working in the Home Office or something, but the Cigars were great.
Anyway back to what happened the other day. Once I'd told the surgeon where the blade was (There's a knack to it which if the Surgeon had been Jewish he would have known) he asked me to stay on the line, as with all the field surgery experience I've got I might have to talk him through it. All in all it was a long night and I overslept yesterday.
Didn't matter much as I'm on special assignment today. Those new prototype uniforms for NHS staff arrive today and I'm being given the first look at them. Can't wait.

Shalom

Hello Hello I'm back again
Mood:  lyrical
Now Playing: The Saxophone
Well as I said yesterday, it's service as normal again. I don't know what went wrong with the Satellite link to Jerusalem and Tel Aviv which stopped me posting for most of yesterday, but I had the Newsagent's son check things out and here I am. He's a clever little bugger for only 5 years old, even noticed I hadn't plugged my computer in.
So what's new? Nothing much, I had an enjoyable evening under the bedsheets with my magazine although I'm a bit sore in certain places now. The people who write these magazines should really be more careful about what they put in them. Don't they know what a wristwatch computer can do to a man my age and with my secret desires for gadgets, and don't get me started on the weapons...they sort of ruin the magazine though by putting a centrefold of The Spy Of The Moment in the middle. Could someone explain why it's always a woman with no clothes on. I'd much rather see a set of provocatively shaped plastic explosive than that.
It's been back to normal at work too, I've been shuffling down the corridors pushing various inanimate objects about. After last weeks events, everyone is steering clear of me. I get the impression I may have been a bit heavy handed with the Uzi or something, but in times of war the normal rules go out of the window. There is one interesting thing coming up though, I've been asked to trial a new uniform for us trolley pushers. Fortunately it's not been designed by Benny who I hear is now pushing out stuff to accessorise the 'Auschwitz Collection'. Apparently along with your stripey suit you can get such fun attachments as Pink Triangles and Yellow stars. Strange but in the depths of my mind that rings a bell. I hope Benny isn't ripping off someone else's idea.
Anyway, better get back to work, got a long day ahead of me, I've been taping the latest action from Southern Lebanon and may have a late night as I don't want to miss a single explosion or Tank movement.

Shalom

Communications Blackout
Mood:  irritated
Now Playing: The Drums
It looks like the Mossad communications satellite was overloaded today as despite my best efforts I've had to wait all day to actually be able to do any typing. Thankfully the powers that be in Jerusalem seem to have sorted the problems so it's service as normal.
However it's getting a bit late, I'm feeling exceptionally lazy having had to push a trolley around all day, and I've just received the latest copy of 'Secret Agent Today' and I think I'll settle back in bed and enjoy myself a little. You know...that big eared git might be onto something...wow... look at that pair of Lugers...all big, black, and shiny

Shalom

Wonderful Spam, Loverly Spam
Mood:  d'oh
Now Playing: The Penny Whistle
So someone set fire to the James Bond stage the other day, about time someone caught up with that fraud, he gave all of us secret agents a bad name, everybody thinks it's a life of first class air travel, beautiful women, Martini Cocktails, and gadgets thanks to him. The reality is different, Mossad used to make us take the cheapest flights there were - Some of them made Ryanair look like private jets - the women used to have four legs and go baaa, there was a drugs and alcohol policy and we couldn't drink unless the Olives/Cherries in the glass were Kosher, and you'd find more gadgets in the Argos catalogue than in the average Mossad kitbag. On top of that we never got an Aston Martin or BMW to drive, I remember once all I got was a Renault Laguna, although I must admit it was so bland it was great for undercover work.
I have no idea what the day has in store for me today, after successfully tracking down the NHS tagger it looks like I need to get back to the nitty gritty of pushing trolleys and wheelchairs about. Now you may ask yourself, what's a super agent like me doing in the NHS? Well from an intelligence gathering perspective it's a great job, you should hear some of the stuff I hear in the corridors, plus it allows me to keep my hand in a bit and not forget all that stuff I learned while running an Israeli Army MASH tent back in the 1960's. From time to time it's really tempting to yank the scalpel out of the Surgeon's hand and show him how it should really be done.
On a final note, the Israeli Army High Command would like to thank everyone for their efforts in trying to find our Soldiers, it's looking like they were never in London at all but only made it as far as Lebanon, even if they're not, it's still nice to see the boys knocking seven bells of shit out of a bunch or Arabs.

Shalom

Spam, Spam , Spam, Spam
Mood:  lazy
Now Playing: The Jewish Harp
Yesterday was a little bit strange. Went to the Synagogue early to set up the security screening as I always do, only to get there and find I wasn't needed. When I asked Rabbi Goldberg he admitted he'd been doing a little bit of budgeting and found that my fee of a couple of cream cheese bagels was a little high, especially as he had to go to a rather dubious source to obtain fresh ones on a Saturday. He said he'd been contacted by a couple of rather nice Russian gentlemen who said they'd take care of things for free. Now I don't really have much time for the Ruskies, trust me the KGB were nowhere near as tough as many made out, and I'm more than a little hurt they have come and stamped on my territory. There is an unwritten rule between secret agents that you don't tread on another's turf. Anyway I have to ask why they are willing to do it for free, Rabbi Goldberg knows that you don't get something for nothing, he is Jewish after all.
Councillor Liebeman was also there but didn't seem to want to know me, his wife did approach me and told me that I won't need to learn much Danny La Rue for the foreseeable future, the knitting circle for those brave Israeli boys protecting the homeland is going to be taking up a lot of time. Shamefully I haven't completed a single scarf yet, maybe that's why I'm being blanked.
Benny was there once again, but he chose to hang around in the shadows at the back. I was interested to note that he wasn't wearing anything from his latest fashion collection, and I did manage to collar him for a few words. He's working on a new project for his mates which involves him nicking books from the local libraries and burning them over on Clapham Common. This sort of thing does ring a bell in my head but I can't remember why. Anyway as long as they are all Tom Clancy books it's ok with me.
OK, better get knitting.

Shalom

Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam
Mood:  lazy
Now Playing: The Trombone
Well the great graffiti case has been solved, Charlie and me uncovered the vandal spraying NHS on all the gear, turns out it was some geezer putting together some sort of asset register, even showed us his orders. So the whole PMT thing has turned out to be a waste of time, but it was nice while it lasted, being able to openly wear my black gear, use various top secret Mossad gadgets, and best of all openly drink Pepsi Max made it all worth my while.
Of course whenever you crack a case so quickly there is always a feeling of anti climax so last night I decided to go down to Blockbuster and rent myself an action video. Being a Friday night there wasn't much left so I ended up renting Apollo 13. I love films that bring back memories for me and this reminded me of the highly secret Israeli space programme that I was privileged to be part of, just before I went back to work at the Bagel Bake. I remember sitting in the capsule of Muzeltov 1 sweating while the countdown moved closer to lift off when all of a sudden it came to a halt. Turns out the capsule hadn't been blessed by a Rabbi, and by the time they found one it was Saturday and of course no good Jew works on a Saturday so it all got called off. Well that gave someone a chance to work out that rockets are not very fuel economical unless you're firing them at some defenceless Arab state. Also a lot of the rocket was a one time use only, and the director of the space programme was into recycling, so that was it, I was let out of the capsule and sent back to Brick Lane. They did secretly fire a Monkey into space later on, but as the Monkey was a Muslim they'd decided it was expendable anyway.
Synagogue today, don't know what to expect, I've a horrible feeling that the Danny La Rue thing may be about to surface again.

Shalom

Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam
Mood:  don't ask
Now Playing: The Timpani
Don't ask how I feel today, I feel lousy. Just had an ear bashing from the DTM after my exploits this morning, I really feel it's unfair as I was only carrying out his orders.
I decided to take the hunt for the graffiti vandal a step further today, random checkpoints are no good, they can be avoided plus the vandal may be striking behind closed doors. So today I decided to don my highly secret Mossad jetpack and do some recon through some of the windows on the side of the building. Anywhere I suspected there was something dodgy going on I'd check out in my own style. Well I did hit a couple of snags, first of all I hadn't used the jet pack for a while, and I'd forgot how sensitive the controls were so I blasted up a pretty long way before I got control of the thing. That brought about the first complaint from the Air Traffic Controllers in charge of all the goings on around Heathrow. Then as I hovered around the Hospital building I mistakenly looked through the windows of some of the Nurse's rooms. Cue the second complaint which only the highly mysterious ID card with the Star of David logo on it managed to get me out of. Finally the rooms I did identify with dodgy dealings going on had to be entered somehow, so I rigged up my abseiling gear, dropped down to these windows and with a nice shaped charge blew the things out for easy access. This is the one I'm dealing with now. The DTM reckons that the hospital has enough money problems without having to replace all the windows I blew out this morning. He wants to know why I just didn't use the door. Well that would take away the element of surprise wouldn't it. I guess he wouldn't have been too upset if I'd been carrying some Milk Tray with me.
My assistant Charlie has returned from his undercover dealings yesterday but sadly with little to report, mind you there is a drawback to working with a cat, whilst I might be a mastermind at most world languages, I'm no Doctor Doolittle so communicating with Charlie is tough.

Shalom

Spam Spam Spam Spam
Mood:  sharp
Now Playing: The Xylophone
While the Israeli Army knock seven bells out of southern Lebanon - yes I am keeping score and have had to add UN observers onto the score sheet - me and Charlie have taken our cue from them and have made sure that everyone in the Hospital feels the force of the PMT.
I set up random checkpoints around the Hospital yesterday searching people for spray cans and any stencils with the letters NHS on them. Some people objected to my appearance and said that me carrying an Uzi was in contravention of the Hospital regulations. My reply is that the Hospital is in a time of crisis, stuff is being vandalised and only tough action will stop it. I'm a bit pissed off that I'm not allowed to search the patients though, particularly that old bat in geriatrics. Still I did think I was rather efficient in visiting the Colonoscopy room from time to time, at least some people have been properly scanned and are not carrying the stuff shoved up their backsides (memories of Tennis rackets come into my head for some reason).
What was Charlie doing during all this, I have no idea but my admiration for this feline has increased considerably for when he goes undercover he can't be found. He must have been Mossad trained, although I was slightly alarmed to hear someone remark he'd strayed a little too close to the local Chinese. I hope that's not true as I'd always thought that place was kosher.
So today the hunt goes on, no random checkpoints today, I'm going to use the element of surprise and abseil down the side of the building so I can see into rooms which I wasn't allowed to enter yesterday, I'm sure the DTM will be well pleased with the dedication I'm showing with this task.

Shalom

Just like my dear Papa!
Mood:  irritated
Now Playing: The Banjo
Got to work today and was told I'd be paired up with my new four legged assistant who is going to help me track down the moron who is spraying NHS on all our trolleys. So as I stood in the corridor waiting for the animal I was wondering what sort of vicious beast would I be allocated to intimidate the vandal into giving up. A Rotweiler or Doberman would do the job quite nicely I thought, but please no more Dachshunds. Well after what seemed like a long wait I was summoned into a room to meet my new partner, and to say I was disappointed would be an understatement. No Lassie or Rin Tin Tin this animal, not even a Skippy who I could at least communicate with. My new sidekick was to be none other than Charlie the Ginger Tom who we feed off scraps round by the bins. On seeing me he promptly shot off out of the room as I'd shoved my toe up his arse on more than one occasion, but enough of my sexual habits. The Duty Trolley manager seems to think that if Charlie pisses on enough trolleys eventually the distinct odour of Cat Piss will rub off on the vandal, and we all know how hard it is to get rid of that smell. So my job will comprise of me basically sniffing people to see if they've picked up some of what Charlie has left behind. Now I don't know how much time you spend in hospitals but there are loads of people who come into the place smelling a bit odd. Look at all the wino's who come in and sit in casualty when it gets cold. Still I've had a masterstroke of thought which will make this a short lived assignment. There's a crazy old bat lingering around the geriatric ward who kept about 400 cats in her house, she stinks like Cat piss so I think I'll pin the blame on her...job done.
Anyway better go and find Charlie, find some left over kippers from breakfast in the bin here, it'll make a nice treat for him.

Shalom

I wish I'd been a Girlie
Mood:  not sure
Now Playing: The Harpsichord
Remember my last line from yesterday, they always have a surprise for me when I get back to work. Well yesterday was no exception, after filling in my sicknote - I used Leprosy this time, haven't had it for a while - I was summoned to see the Duty Trolley Manager. Seems like since I've been away, there has been an outbreak of Trolleys being sprayed with graffiti, normally comprising of somebody using the Tag NHS. So with my background in security and undercover work I've been given the task of setting up the Hospital's new elite department for the Protection and Management of Trolleys or PMT as it's going to be known. The DTM was telling me that to work in this department, standards are so high that I'm the only one regarded as qualified to work in it. I won't be alone however as I will have four legged help.
Now that was a surprise to me, I've never told anybody about my dog handling experience in the Israeli Army and my training of the highly regarded, if short lived, Dachshund Mine Detection squad. Dachshunds were ideal for that sort of work, being low to the ground they tended to set the mines off before anybody else could. Problem was we ran out of Dachshunds pretty quickly, and what with the expense of dog food too, the Army decided to pursue electronic solutions to mine detection.
Anyway I haven't met my canine help yet, but I can hardly wait to start bonding with it. I've even been given an armband to wear with PMT written on it, I'm sure we'll be making an impression around the Hospital pretty soon.

Shalom

Suspenders and a Bra
Mood:  d'oh
Now Playing: The French Horn
Well the last couple of days I've been harping on about the conflict between Israel and Lebanon, it's bringing back all sorts of memories for me but I can't really tell you much about them as a lot of it is highly classified and if I told you I'd have to have you eliminated as we used to say in Mossad. Now I know this thing is attracting a hardcore of readers, but you have all been very shrewd and despite the best efforts of Mossad's computer department there is no way to identify you all which means we'd be likely to make a few eliminations in error.
Anyway last night my phone rang and I got a very garbled line which was allegedly Benny. He sounded like he was cursing Deutsche Telekom for yet another crappy connection. This will teach him to switch phone companies, I've always found TAT (Tel Aviv Telecommunications) ideal for my needs plus I get a discount for being a member of the Israeli security service and an extra discount because I'm working undercover. I've no idea what he was trying to say, all I could hear in the background was a lot of people complaining that they couldn't get their torches lit, and that if they got hold of the cheapskate who bought those lighters off that geezer in the street at 10 for a pound, they'd hang him high. The line went dead just after that, but if Benny is calling me it seems to indicate he's having a few problems.
Back to work today, whenever I'm away it seems something new crops up, I wonder what little surprises await me this time.

Shalom

I wear High Heels
Mood:  not sure
Now Playing: The Piccolo
Well my map is up on the wall, and I've even rigged up a little chart so I can keep score of the big match, yep Israel vs Lebanon which hopefully will see more action than the recent World Cup.
I spent a fair chunk of yesterday afternoon sorting all that out, I discovered that the only map of the area I had was in an old diary which somebody had given me all those years ago, for the life of me I can't remember what RMT stands for, but I vaguely recall having a drinking session with some KGB geezer who told me that they were some sort of elite Russian secret service, hence the reason I never used it, didn't want to ruin it did I. Anyway as the map was pretty small, I had to take it down the Library and blow it up on their photocopier (made a change from blowing up oil pipelines), and it cost me quite a few pennies to do it. I opted for black and white copies though as they're cheaper. The map now takes pride of place in my operations centre - also known as my basement - and with the blackboard I put up to keep score I'm all set.
I was pretty unsuccessful in locating any Israeli Army khaki wool, so if anybody reading this knows where to get some, let me know, the boys on the front line are going to need those scarves to keep warm, although at the moment I hear that there are enough little fires raging down there to help out.
I'm keeping this short as today is the final stage of the Tour De France, and in a little known tradition the last stage must always be won by a notable cyclist of Swiss/Israeli/British origin, as I'm the only one that fits the bill, I'm off down to Fairoaks to be whisked to the starting line.

Shalom