Either tonight or tomorrow night I will be doing a fairly major upgrade to the software that the Bunker operates on. If when you log in you see a message saying 'closed for maintenance' then its probably closed for maintenance.

If you see a message saying '404 error' or any other friggin error then its probably me upgrading the site.

Please be advised that no amount of emails telling me that its not working will change this fact. If its not working it'll be me twiddling knobs behind the scenes (in a non Stephen Gateley way).

This will hopefully fix the problem with the slow posting and searching.

i hate it when the bunker goes down.

Too much use of teeth for my liking

I like slow posting. It gives me time to iron a few garments in between messages.

If its a straightforward operation then it will be half an hour. If it goes pear shaped it might be a bit longer

Well, as long as it's to-night or tomorrow, I don't mind. I'm out both nights. Wednesday would be a bit of a problem.

Could you not just do the washing up on Wednesday instead of being on the bunker. Us blokes could be busy watching the England game

That's what they said about my circumcision.....

When I woke up the bastads ((c)ADG) had nicked my pullover......

You wimp, you got put to sleep for your circum...., hang on a minute, I was thinking of the other male 'minor' op.

You could always leave the ironing alone and practice that fiddle. Much more satisfying.

Does this mean some of us will have to work?

half of the bunkerites made a sharp when they thought it was about the CSA

The only way to deal with those feckers is to confront them with evidence. They accept the lies of a woman, but not the word of the ex-husband. I'm rid of those bastads (cADG) now but it still makes my piss boil at the way they treat people.

Mr Head of CSA ... I hope your cock drops off.

I doubt that Mary Quinn the Head of the CSA has a cock, could be wrong though.

OK, Mr BP Clever Clogs, it's a woman ... I hope her flange seals up.

Don't ever get me going on the CSA. Blinkered, blinded, bigotted, bossy bastards. One look to establish you're a bloke and their help is simply not forthcoming, even if you're entitled to it.

I had a summer job working for the CSA when I was at Uni. It was a hoot.

Tracing absent fathers was particularly fun with access to the government computers. You just typed in the name the bint gave you and it brought up a list of blokes with that name and their address. I quickly established if I sent all of them a letter accusing them of being the dad then by the process of elimination then the chances were quite high that one of them would be the right fella.

It was the demand for 25,000pounds in arrears which made me laugh. Thankfully receipts/bank statements proved I was bang on time with the correct payments. She-who-must-be-shot-with-a-gun-full-of-shite decided to complain that I wasn't paying. The knuts based in Falkirk believed her her without checking. Did they apologise to me?

aye - i got a £8000 demand when i only owed them £3000!!

bastads (c)

Well now you know that it was some spotty youth who thought it was 'particular fun' sending you a scary letter on the off chance. Doesn't create confidence does it. Shame on you Mr Ripper.

I shared an office with a kid who once had a shag over a car bonnet after the nightclub. Never ever saw the bewer again. Six years later, he answers the phone, goes ashen and goes and asks his boss if he can go home.

In the meantime, he'd got married, bought a house, wife's doing great in her career, they'd decided not to have a baby, and then one day, she's at home, picks up the post and opens a letter to her husband from the CSA. No dates, no detail, no nowt, just simply you've got a baby, the mother has contacted us, come in and establish how much you're going to pay.

Luckily, they were strong enough to go through it together, but neither he or I would have been surprised if she'd slit his throat before she learned that it was years before they'd even met.

Happy ending though. He'd never known he had a daughter and by chance the little girl has an unusual name, Emerald. Someone heard someone talking, there's not too many Emerald's in Barnsley and he got the address, paced up and down a bit outside, and plucked up the courage to knock on the door. Her mum wasn't antagonistic and now he has a very warm relationship with his little girl and she goes over for weekends and days out and stuff, with him and his wife.

I'd like the CSA a whole lot more if they supported single fathers instead of shouting about absent ones, and letting the bewers off scott free.

possibly it was the colour of the car that inspired the name

i paid my ex in full 3years ago till my girl is 21 she now lives with me have i got my money back? have i feck

Considering where she works, it probably already has.

Not yet, as far as I know Mr Mutley, she's only about nine, but knowing her Dad and step-Mum they'll hide nothing from her unless they think it'll hurt her somehow.

They really are some of the nicest people I know and if they had two penny chews they'd give you both of them.

And from Barnsley.......

Was it a Beetle Bonnet?