Swiss don't wanna play no more!

It has been a strange day for Swiss. He has been in London and had cause to pass through Temple Station. That's on the underground don't you know. Its the closest stop to where those Barrister types go to work.

Well, where they go to have a cup of tea and hang their coats up before hurrying to the Royal Courts of Justice wearing wigs and stuff, looking rather dashing as they majestically sweep across The Strand, avoiding the television crews assembled to film the latest naughty celebrity to be found guilty of something or another.

So following a busy day doing his rounds of the Chambers and Courts with his mobile shoe shine business, (He is hoping to franchise the business and make some money), he parked his bike outside the station and went down to the platform.

It was 5.00pm. Home time, office kicking out time. End of the day. Time to go home to the missus and say hello to the kids.

Temple Station was deserted. Not a soul in sight.

Swiss was puzzled. So he sat and waited. At 6pm, a couple of hassled junior Barrister types came running down to the platform, still wearing their gowns, loaded down with lever arch files with loose papers flying out to board the train.

7pm, a couple more.

Then at 8pm, an exodus of Barristers arrived, with equally heavy laden lever arch files and boarded the train. Thousands of the buggers there was.

They all sat down, opened their files, took out their highlighter pens, and started work.

Sod that for a game of soldiers. Swiss is not going to be playing that game thank you very much.

Swiss expects to be home every day by 6pm, ready for his boiled egg and soldiers for dipping, watch the One Show and get ready for beddie byes.

After the BVC, failed pupillage applicants moan that they should have given up earlier, that they should have known they would never make it, if only they had been more honest with themselves, they would have stopped the fruitless effort to qualify.

Well, Swiss can tell you that he has made his mind up. This is not a game he wants to play anymore. Sod leaving the office at 8pm, taking work home, and being too late for the One Show.

Swiss is happy to carry on with his shoe shine business, polishing the brogues of those dashing Barristers, and maintain a measure of work/life balance. Stuff the BVC. Admittedly, it has taught him all he ever needed to know about Dot to Dot, and not colouring over the edges, and he loves the way that CofL is sponsored by Crayola, but for goodenss sake, missing the One Show and boiled egg and soldiers?

Never.

I Submit

When Swiss was a young lad, he often said 'I submit' Usually it was because his older brother was sitting on his face and farting, or had him pinned down and was kneeing him in the ribs. It was enough to make his eyes well up and scream for Mater.

No longer will Mater come and assist. (Swiss always admired the way she would throw a headlock on big brother and fart in his face to teach him to take a more refined approach to brotherly love)

Now Swiss is on his own with submissions, submitting and anything else that involves trying to swing the Judge round to his point of view.

So, last lesson, Swiss is making a submission. He is unsure if he is making the right point, unsure if he has the right client, a little unclear if he is even in the right class because all the other children appear to be looking at him in a strange way.

Something is not right, yet Swiss can't quite put his finger on it.

But Swiss knows he must soldier on. he ignores the little giggles, the looks, the girlies whispering to each other and sniggering. He soldiers on regardless.

The Judge is trying not to smile. What is it. What has Swiss done wrong. he is submitting his little heart out, and all he gets is giggles.

Swiss self conciously checks his flies. He checks his papers. He looks down to check he hasn't spilt anything down his shirt.

This is not nice.

What has he done?

At the end of the submission, the Judge congratulates him on his fine delivery, attention to detail and use of the appropriate law. The girlies are still giggling.

He checks his flies again.

WHAT CAN IT BE?

Damn the new milk monitor at College of Law.

New News, Old News, Crap News

Last night, despite being a really tired lad, and desperate to go to bed and close his eyes, Swiss wanted to watch the news. There was a clip of a Victor Bomber taking off accidentally with the question 'What did the pilot do when his plane took off by accident?' Swiss thought, Hmm, what did he do?

So he endured the news. Blimey, ENDURED the news. What a complete and utter tabloid crappy pathetic waste of time that was.

The BMA want to ban just about everything and anything to do with alcohol. 'We will be speaking to a mother who's 24 year old son died of alcohol poisoning'

Ah thinks Swiss, good objective journalism then. Nice balanced view. Fair debate then.

Apparently, he was on a six pack of Stella at 13, and moved on to Vodka and then Cider, before falling off the bar to his death. Linking the story to how banning promotion of alcohol would stop all this. The mother wants all kids to see how awful it is.

WTF?

Isn't it illegal for 13 year olds to be downing Stella? Shouldn't the existing law, which admittedly makes sense to ban kids from drinking, just be, well, sort of, enforced?

At least it wasn't the mothers fault. (No mention of the father, but there rarely is nowadays. Probably left her because she kept nipping down the 'offie to get her son another 6 pack of lager) But its never her fault is it. Always blame someone else. Her own son dead, drunk as a skunk for half his life, unable to function without a shot of vodka with a whisky chaser every ten minutes, but its all those adverts what done him in. Was it the Hofmeister dancing bear, or the Leonard Rossiter Cinzano advert what caught him by their evil ways? We can't tell which, so ban then all.

Swiss is sick and tired of this crap.

If ever there was a time to not buy a pub, its now.

One of the things necessary for a good pupillage interview is a grasp of current affairs. Well, stop watching the ten o'clock news then if news is what you want, because the last thing you will ever see on there is actual news. What a crock of shite they are.

Right, Swiss is moving back to Switzerland to binge drink scnapps and eat Toblerones without any poncy BMA interference.

As for the plane, what did it do? It landed again. Humpfff. Swiss ENDURED 25 minutes of crap, AND the weather, (cloudy in the South) and the frigging plane took off and then landed. No spectaculer crash, no loop the loops, no nothing. Up, down. Bahhhhhgggggg.

Swiss is tired and grumpy today and no bloody wonder.

Rude awakening

Swiss has been kicking back and enjoying the school summer holiday. He knew that there was some homework, but being a persuasive and determined kind of guy, he was extremely successful in persuading himself that 'there is loads of time', I can do that later.

Bugger.

In the last few hours, he has realised his typically teenage mistake. Time is not always on your side, especially when it is most needed. The simple homework from year one is not necessarily the same as year two!

Bugger.

Swiss laid in the sun only the other day thinking about the MCT's that he had to do. (Multiple Choice Tests) Oh how easy they are. 4 answers, ABC or D, and only one of them even remotely likely. The last MCT that Swiss did was to do with Health and Safety on a Building Site. (Long story) Typical question:

You are walking across the site, and notice a Polish electrician drilling a hole in a wall. It is raining and he is using an electric drill. Do you:

A - Run for shelter because its raining.
B - Lend him your drill because its faster.
C - Offer him a cup of tea.
D - Tell him to stop because the rain will short circuit the drill and cause an electric shock.

Admittedly, Swiss failed the test, due mainly to his pride in his new Black and Decker Power Blaster Twin Speed Hammer Drill, and he picked B!

But MCT's are simple aren't they?

As he laid in the sun, he pondered the mock MCT he had done last term at CofL. Not to imply that they are really really simple, but here was a typical question:

See the picture of the fire engine. Choose a colour from your crayons and colour it in. Match the colour to the coloured boxes below and choose the one that you think closely matches the big RED fire engine. If your RED crayon is broken, put your hand up and ask the teacher for a new RED crayon.

A - Red
B - Green
C - Blue
D - Yellow

But, something has gone badly wrong with Swiss's plans. Either CofL have been making iot all seem too easy, or he has been given an MCT test from BPP.

Bugger.

Each question starts off with a full page story about some scumbag drug dealing villian that has burgled, stolen, escaped, been chased, caught, charged and is facing trial. Swiss has an hour to do the test, but each goddamn story takes twenty minutes to read and understand.

The question is then something horribly complicated relating to some practice direction, law, rule, or procedure.

The four options are each ten paragraphs long. It takes five minutes to read each answer. It then takes a further five minutes to spot the difference between each one.

Bugger.

After 12 hours of studious contemplation, Swiss has decided that he has two choices. Either tick all the boxes with A, B, C, D alternating through, and making quite a snazzy pattern on the marking sheet, or complain that his paper must be wrong because it came from BPP.

Bugger

Dissapointed

Swiss is a law abiding soul. Ever since he was caught stealing his neighbours car and joy riding at the age of 5, ram raiding the local sweet shop for gobstoppers and licorice laces, he has been a good boy. He is unsure if it was the bollocking he got from Dixon of Dock Green, or the way his dear old pater took his belt to him, but suffice it to say, since then Swiss has been good.

Any transgressions have been either minor, or undetected. He did nick the toy fire engine from under the nose of one of his classmates at nursery school, and he did try passing off a cardboard 5p in a sweet shop while at Junior school, but on the whole, if you are looking for good, law abiding and exemplary behaviour, Swiss is your man.

Last night, whilst meeting a friend for a chat, he was waiting in McDonalds. It was a HUGE place, and Swiss suspecst that they were expecting Jesus to turn up because there was seating for 5000. Swiss selected a table in the deepest reaches of the place because the friend had some juicy gossip to impart and didn't want to be overheard. That, and the screaming kids everywhere but the dark corner seemed to help persuade him to go there.

So, Swiss is there, all alone and looking towards the entrance. And in walk one of Blunkets plastic bobbies. Flak jacket, stab proof vest, handcuffs, truncteon, tazer gun, machine gun and notebook to take down particulars.

Trust me, Swiss has a very healthy opinion of the police. He likes them. He admires them. He sometimes wonders why he didn't become one, because where respect is due, they are up there with doctors, nurses and Baby Spice. And here is the dissapointing thing.

Swiss avoided eye contact and tried to slink down in his chair to avoid being noticed. All because although Swiss knew he had done no wrong, PC Plastic could find a million and one ways to arrest him. Terrorist, maybe, he could be waiting for his 'contact' to arrive before going to blow something up, whats in his bag, where has he been, why does he look suspicious, why is he sitting all alone, why is he wearing a bulky jacket, etc etc.

Admittedly, PC Plastic looked across, and wandered off. (He may have only been looking for a table to sit down at to eat his Happy Meal)

But Swiss is dissapointed. Why did he behave that way. Why did he feel vulnerable. What a shocking state of affairs.

He had left his machete at home, sold all his drugs, parked legally, worn gloves and left no dabs at the scene, and managed to wash off all traces of Cemtex.

What a bloody stupid f***ing travesty, when the innocent are made ot feel guilty.

Swiss is seriously pissed off with it all.

Chambers are missing a trick

There currently seems to be a bit of a backlash against the Pupillage system flowing through various blogs and friends I speak to. (OK, I don't have any friends but if I did they would tell me how bad it all is)

For my part, I am bemused by it all. It has been hammered into my head, time and time again, that I am not to make the sacred ground of Barristership. All the signs were there, and all were ignored in search of something to be able to look back on life and say I made it to the top.

Nevertheless, I am as happy as a pig in shit and therefore not beaten down or upset by it all.

I will continue to make applications, because it seems like a bit of a game, but to be honest, when far more worthy individuals than good old Swiss are being turned down, there is little hope left.

THE LAST BUS

Earlier today, I was in Court. I was helping a poor unfortunate that needed me to hold their hand. I enjoy doing it, because it helps them. They are scared and frightened to go to Court, but are left with no choice.

Today, maybe for the first time, I felt the deepest loathing and hatred of their opponent. I wanted to stab their eyes out with a rusty nail. As for their Solicitor, rusty nails were too good for them. And it struck me, the Bus Stop Rule is one hell of a good reason to not want to be a Barrister. If I am helping someone, and they rub me up the wrong way, I can walk away, adios tosser, do it yourself because Swiss is pissed off with you. That freedom is worth a lot, especially when you see opposition like today. I have seen many a client that I could never in a month of Sundays assist. Presumably I would be disbarred if I had them as a client and had poked their eyes out with a rusty nail. If it ever happens, Swiss will let you all know.

ANDROPOV IS A STAR

Anyway, to the point of my post. Last week I asked the very bright and capable Andropov of http://accedas-ad-curiam.blogspot.com/ fame to do a little job for me. (I should point out that she did once tell me how to put links in posts, but sorry Andropov, I wasn't listening properly)

You will now notice at the top of my Blog that my little award from Minxy is displayed like a poster on a little boys bedroom wall. I just had to have it there to show off, and remind me of my place. Contender for awards, but not giver of awards. Hence the picture for this post. It isn't as far as I know Andropov, although I hear she is a bit of a looker, but it is typical of posters that boys had on their bedroom walls when Swiss were a lad.

Andropov set up this blog, in exactly the design I wanted. No fuss, no bother, no flowers or nothing. She just did the job, smiled, and got on with things. She has also designed the incredibly clever site for Minxy http://minx610.blogspot.com/ (Andropov, I will listen if you tell me again how to do it, but don't tell me in HTML code like last time. Simple step by step guide in English will be best. Write it slowly, you know I can't read fast)

Admittedly, Minxy's blog has more bells and whistles than Swiss's, but she obviously learnt a lot doing this blog before embarking on her pride of place Blog.

So, Chambers are missing a trick. Come on Swiss you old fart, get on with the story. (Its like listening to Ronnie Corbet at times) Some of the websites are atrocious. Awful sites. What they need to do is give Andropov a Pupillage on the condition that she redesigns their site for them.

Thanks Andropov, you have my never ending thanks for setting up the blog, and keeping it running like a well oiled machine. Don't forget to let me know when you visit old smokey London and I will treat you to dinner at Inner. Forget Minx's tedious comments about their baked potatoes. She joined the wrong Inn and is just trying to make herself feel better about it.

Swiss

The votes are in!

Blimey.

Swiss has been getting on with his stuff, working hard, doing his homework for school, and little did he know that his efforts have been rewarded in a way never dreamt of.

Assessments will mean nothing in future. Aspirations of getting a pass in at least one subject is no longer his goal.

He has been watched. He has been assessed. He has been found to be the best at something.

Last time this happened, he was still living with Mater and Pater. He was mollycoddled and cared for like never before, or since in his life. Anything he wanted was handed to him on a plate, which goes some way to describing the size of the fat git. Pater would work in the city in order to provide more and more for Swiss. Mater would cook and clean and tidy up behind him. Life was bliss.

And then one day, it all went pear shaped. Some people say that Swiss is over sensitive and can't take criticism, and that all stemmed from an incident when Pater arrived home from the office to discover Swiss rifling through the kitchen drawer, where he discovered his adoption papers.

At this point, I bet you are all suspecting that little Swiss was sat down and told how mater and pater has chosen him because he was the best. How that made him special. How he was loved.

Actually, the papers simply showed that they had put him up for adoption, as in the words of papa, 'you are a right bloody pest Swiss'

It was years before he recovered. Before he realised that when dear old pater said pest, he hadn't said best. Until he realised that when he said pest, he really meant %^$£*&^$%.

As he types this tale of woe, even now, tears are welling up for dear old Swiss. Life can be cruel.

And then, BAM, life becomes sweet once again. Troubles are lifted from tired old shoulders, and he can walk with a sping in his step.

He has been recognised as a winner. No longer the loser in life. No longer the fumble fingered idiot that cant speak to girls. No longer the stammer. No longer the nervous tick.

Swiss is a winner.
And the prize? The prize of his life? The pinnacle of achievement?

The Mostly Blonde Charges Award for Expert Colouring in Without EVER Going over the Edges(EVER) Award

And all it took, was some of these:
And a few of these:


Nominated by some of these:
Swiss is a happy man

Swizzle