Month: November 2019

I’m very much someone that thinks “if it’s going to happen, it’ll happen”, so I don’t really take part in superstitions – apart from throwing salt over my shoulder. No idea why I do this one and not others though…

All this makes me think of is the scene in Dumb and Dumber, where Harry hits Seabass with the salt shaker (“kick his ass Seabass!”).

There are so many superstitions out there, like it being bad luck to get your haircut on a Tuesday in India, or ladies in Rwanda not eating goat meat as they believe it will give them facial hair – I’ve got a lot of time for superstitions like this as they are pretty funny, but superstitions in the UK are just a bit odd.

Like the whole walking over 3 drains thing… it makes me smile when I am walking down the street and the person coming the other way walks into my path to avoid 3 drains. Well I laugh afterwards; I’m usually trying not to show my WTF face at the time of impact. I mean, what are you actually doing Kevin? You’d rather walk into a strangers face, than walk over 3 drains? C’mon mate!

I get not walking under a ladder, that’s just common sense as there’s probably someone up there doing something which could fall on your head; or not opening an umbrella inside, as I can’t remember the last time it rained indoors. But it being bad luck to do so, I’m not convinced and just think its just a bit silly of people to do these things in my opinion.

To create good luck, some people touch wood, or touch their head and say “touch wood”. Are you Pinocchio mate? No? Well why are you touching your head then? Its made of skin, bone, blood and that, not wood mate.

Anyway, I decided to write about superstitions as my very good friend has loads of superstitions, mainly when it comes to football.

The best of which happened in 2004, when Liverpool were 1-0 down to Olympiakos at half time and had to win by 2 clear goals to qualify. My mate decided to buy some pistachio nuts at half time, and Liverpool suddenly turned it round and won 3-1, which lead to one of the most iconic bits of football commentary in recent history – “What a hit son… what a hit!”.

He then had to get a bag of pistachio’s for every game and would share them with as many people as possible to create the luck. In fairness, we won the Champions League that season, so it might’ve been down to that half time purchase – who knows?

Ending on a superstition I quite like; its bad luck for brides and grooms to see each other on their wedding day. I don’t believe the superstition, but I like this one as there’s something quite romantic about seeing each other for the first time as the bride walks down the aisle – so that one can stay.

Right, I’m off to break some mirrors, drive around until a black cat walks in front of me and throw salt shakers at people.

Have an awesome weekend.

Danny B

The last week of mine has been pure crud on a stick.

Like, really really bad.

So bad that I’ve had to come back to my mums for a few days (yeah, I know, that bad).

Monday, I had poor Danny B listening to my problems whilst I blubbed uncontrollably. I felt totally empty and like I had no clue at all what I was doing anymore. He felt awkward because I don’t do hugs and what do you usually do when someone is making a scene? Put your arm around them.

“I’m guessing you don’t want a hug?”

“No, please don’t touch me, but thanks.”

Since last Wednesday (until last night) I’d been trying to function on a couple of broken hours of sleep due to insomnia. Not like when girls on insta write on their stories when they suddenly wake up at 4am “hate insomnia can’t sleep wah”, but it’s just one of the many side effects of the new medication I’m on.

I’m absolutely shattered but just lay there awake. I tried pillow sprays, sleeping pills, a relaxing bath, no phone, Stephen Fry’s voice… nothing worked.

And parents, don’t come at me for saying “oh well I always have to function on broken sleep” because I absolutely do not care. I now feel sorry for you, yes, but that is irrelevant. Put it in a room, turn off the lights and lock the door.

If you don’t have it, you probably think of depression as people who are just proper sad all the time and can’t do anything. They mope about and feel pity 24/7. I’ve learnt that’s not true. For a few years I’ve still gone out, partied, had a laugh, made new friends and had a great time.

Saturday was pretty rubbish, Sunday I couldn’t leave my bedroom, Monday I forced myself to the office and my entire day was hideous (I probably couldn’t put into words just how hideous), and Tuesday wasn’t entirely awful… but I took yesterday off to have lunch with a friend and to drive back home.

Luckily, I work somewhere that understands you don’t need to be sat at your desk to work. My job is entirely on this laptop. I can log in from anywhere and do what I need to do for the day. Yeah, it can have some restrictions if you can’t sit and chat about something, but that’s what phones are for, right? Nice one, Alexander Bell, you’ve taken the edge off my week.

I’m working 3 hours away from the office for the next couple of days or else I’d probably have crumbled. I’m sat on mums’ bed, still waiting for her to bring me a cup of tea (not expecting it any time soon) and holding out for her to go and pick up some lunch, put it on a plate and bring it upstairs. Again, not expecting it any time soon. But if you’re reading this mum, a Subway would be nice.

Not everyone has the luxury (mad that it is still considered one) to take time away for something that isn’t a ‘real sick day’. I didn’t want to not work, but the thought of working in the office – as lovely as it is – was too much. I love sitting on my own and doing what I need to do, and I’m way more productive that way, but equally being at home wasn’t really an option.

At the end of the day, you’ve got to think it could be worse. You could be Jacob Rees Mogg. But you’re not. You’re a good person. And that’s all that matters.

M x

A little competition doesn’t do anyone any harm. However, there’s a point where the competitive spirit can go too far, where a win at all costs attitude can take over. This can ultimately lead to bad practice, which in turn can damage your brand beyond repair.

In the world of recruitment, a world that gets loads of bad press, there are multiple reports of malpractice – some examples of which are completely unforgivable.  Like any industry though, recruitment has it’s good and bad.  If you’ve had a negative experience, then fair enough have a moan about it on LinkedIn, but it would be counterproductive in the long run to tarnish a whole sector with the same brush.

So what’s the advice?  Put simply, shop around like you would with any other purchase or investment – this is something we would advise to both clients and candidates.  Take an analytical approach to it, do your due diligence by looking at a range of recruiters and what they offer.  Questions such as the following may be worth asking; Are they a specialist in a certain sector and does that matter? Do they deal purely in perm recruitment, or temp, or a combination of both?  What is the fee structure and will you get enough bang for your buck? Higher fees don’t necessarily mean a better service and vice versa.  Surely you don’t want a half-arsed recruiter just firing a bunch of CVs at you in the hope that one of them happens to be of the right calibre.

Healthy competition helps maintain and improve standards across all industries, which is why it is so important.  As previously mentioned we would always recommend speaking to a range of recruiters across the market, just so you can realise for yourself who is in the elite bracket – we believe that’s where we reside, so look forward to speaking to you soon.

Half term, the clocks going back, The Bake Off final, Halloween – all things that have distracted everyone from the main event this week, the World Cup Final tomorrow.

England have made it (in case you were unaware or have been under a rock all week). If you were under a rock, how was it for you? And why were you there? How did you choose that rock? So many questions!

Some people don’t like the egg chasing, but you have to respect how well they’ve all done to get to this point, and how far they’ve come from their days of drinking urine through people’s socks when they were 15.

A 9am start is very dangerous from a drinking perspective and I can just imagine the absolute carnage throughout the country if England win. If we lose, it could be even worse…

My dad said to me before the tournament that he wouldn’t be surprised if South Africa won it. At the time that was a very bold statement, but he is clearly very wise as nobody else gave them much of a chance – well done Micky B!

In my head and throughout my childhood, I was going to make it as a professional footballer – I saw myself as a young Robbie Fowler, due to my natural finishing ability… unfortunately this was all in my head. I then got to secondary school and was introduced to rugby.

My first few games involved me finding some mud and wiping it on my shorts and shirt so it looked like I was involved, whilst I actively avoided the ball. I then got more into it and found myself playing as a hooker. Everyone has a story like this, but I once had trials for Northants and Oxfordshire (deffo sound like Jay from The Inbetweeners).

I wasn’t the tallest, I mean I wasn’t in midget territory, but I felt it when my props were almost 5” taller than me. I didn’t win a single scrum and obviously was not picked for either county. Me being me, decided that I didn’t want to play anymore after not getting picked; I was like that kid that took the ball away and walked home with my bottom lip out.

To be honest, this probably was a good thing as it meant I never had to take part in all the crazy off-field rugby antics that are notorious with the sport (like the whole urine thing above).

Anyway, enough about me and my failed football, rugby (and tennis, but lets not go there just yet) careers.

Have a great weekend and COME ON ENGLAND!

Danny B