Bluetealeaf

2012-01-17T18:42:00.000Z

They fill my cup up in the cage.

Every night I watch the news and every night I shake my head at the new depths that are plumbed by the feckless hoard at Westminster, they who purport to have our best interests at heart. The news this week that Michael Gove thinks we should buy the queen a new boat in a year that has seen cuts that would make Draco himself suck air through his teeth, just illustrates what complete fucking cretins these people are. But why am I surprised? The news is the same now as it was in the bad old days of Thatcher with the miners’s strike and the poll tax riots. Do we succumb to a kind of political amnesia? Maybe it’s just apathy. Whatever the reason we seem to keep putting up with a continuous shower of shite, sometimes we even ask for a sponge. Dead soldiers are still being brought home from a conflict designed wholly to ensure oil companies keep pumping, big business avoids tax of sums that would solve our current financial crisis while the government seem happy to take money from disabled people. The list of injustice carried out in our name gets bigger by the day, when will we decide we’ve had enough? When will we find our line and know that it has been crossed? Maybe when the turkey twirlers run out, till then we’ll just plug ourselves into a reality TV show and presume that someone else will fight the cause for us.

What happened? Is there no hope? Maybe the ants will look after the planet better, it shouldn’t be that long till they get their turn.

2011-12-02T21:25:00.004Z

Some clarity.

I thought I should make my position clear. You see, the term atheist is quite a combative word, it makes a statement and puts people on the defensive from the outset. To me, the term atheist says “I don’t believe in god and I think anyone that does is a cretin”. This couldn’t be further from the truth, I don’t have a problem with people who believe in god, even the ones who stand on a box in the town centre, berating me for my sins, and assuring me that I will spend an eternity in a fiery realm paying for them. You see, at least the weekend evangelists berate me because they care. My issue is with organised religion, and the control freaks that pretend to care but really just want to protect their interests. These people incur my wrath frequently.

My hatred of organised religion isn’t why I don’t believe in god though, despite the pain and suffering that they cause around the world… and I’m not picking on any one of them in particular, they would all have questions to answer if they ever met their god, and I sometimes think it would be poetic if the Westborough Baptists actually had to stand before a deity and explain their disgraceful conduct, that’s a rapture I would buy tickets for.

I can no more say to a believer that god doesn’t exist as they can say to me god does. My complete and utter refusal to accept that there is a supreme being is based on empirical scientific evidence, or the complete lack of it. Are we to believe that an omniscient being monitors our petitions and alters the universe accordingly? The circumstantial evidence is manifold, from miracles to faces appearing in tortillas, but there has never been a single shred of testable evidence that a god has ever existed. In my opinion, when Darwin published origin of the species, we, as a species, should have collectively face-palmed and got on with creating an egalitarian secular society, bent on scientific advancement and ending want. But we didn’t, so here I am.

I am quite content with idea that I won’t be reborn, that my death will be the end. I love the fact that every atom in my body came from the centre of a star, and that every atom in my body will one day return to space to become another star. The irony of that vision of eternal life isn’t lost on me by the way, I just love the fact that one day in some far distant future atoms that may have been me or you will meet in the vast emptiness of interstellar space, or the fiery furnace of a star’s core… scary how close to reality the fairy stories are really isn’t it? It’s just the god bit that’s the problem.

I’m going to leave you with the words of an inspirational man…

I'm gonna share with you a vision that I had, cause I love you. And you feel it. You know all that money we spend on nuclear weapons and defence each year, trillions of dollars, correct? Instead -- just play with this -- if we spent that money feeding and clothing the poor of the world -- and it would pay for it many times over, not one human being excluded -- we can explore space together, both inner and outer, forever in peace.

2011-11-25T23:05:00.004Z

Football quiz.

1. What do you eat whilst watching football ?
a. Munchies in front of the TV.
b. A pie from the kiosk in the ground.
c. A prawn sandwich.

2. How far do you live from the ground ?
a. I used to live in a nearby town, but I’ve moved.
b. I bought a house on the same street as the stadium.
c. I live in Pnom Penn.

3. Do you have a replica shirt ?
a. I was bought the 1990 away shirt as a present.
b. I buy the new home shirt every other season.
c. My wardrobe contains 48 replica shirts since 2005.

4. Your club directors piss you off, do you ?
a. Write a why oh why letter to the BBC.
b. Carry on regardless, it’s the club you love not its staff.
c. Spit out your dummy and form a new club.

5. Why do you support your team ?
a. It was the closest ground to my home.
b. My father, my grandfather and all my family support them.
c. I was looking for another team after Liverpool went shit.

6. Other fans invade your forum, do you ?
a. Log off and have a cup of tea.
b. Give as good as you get with your vast knowledge and wit.
c. Shut the site down and go and tell your mum.

7. What do you think of opposition players ?
a. I don’t know about them, as long as we win I’m happy.
b. I check opta before each game to see who the danger men are.
c. Anyone who doesn’t play for us is shit.

8. You get a free ticket to see your team, do you ?
a. Give it to one of your mates, he would appreciate it more.
b. Offer it to a fellow fan on the forum, you have a season ticket.
c. Sell it on eBay, it’s too far to travel from Singapore.

9. How much do you read about your club ?
a. The Observer sport pages on a Sunday morning.
b. I have a library, I even read past player autobiographies.
c. Janet and John go shopping, then I’m on free reading.

Check your result:

Mostly A’s:
You’re an armchair fan, it’s a while since you went to the ground but you at least you could find it if need be. You might not spend time and money on following your team, but you love your club. Well done.

Mostly B’s:
Congratulations, you’re a proper bone-fide fan. You follow your team through thick and thin, rain or shine. You are the one everyone else phones to answer the quiz questions. You’ll probably have your ashes scattered on the pitch.

Mostly C’s:
You’re a rag ! Your team play in a swamp just outside Manchester. You’ve never been to a game in your life and the only reason you support them is because your mates do. The fact that Cornwall has no premier league teams isn’t a proper excuse.

2011-05-29T18:08:00.001+01:00

I feel as though you ought to know….

Work and other more pressing matters have kept me from here lately. I intend to finish the 30 song challenge, and carry on posting.

Before that happens I have more work and a week’s holiday, but hopefully both of those things will give me something to write about.

2011-05-07T18:12:00.001+01:00

New songs and blue songs #26

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 26 - a song that you can play on an instrument - Happy Mondays - Step on.

2011-05-06T15:03:00.001+01:00

New songs and blue songs #25

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 25 - a song that makes you laugh - Tim Minchin - Prejudice.

2011-05-05T20:21:00.001+01:00

New songs and blue songs #24

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 24 - a song that you want to play at your funeral - Elvis Presley - Way down.

2011-05-02T20:54:00.002+01:00

New songs and blue songs #23

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 23 - a song that you want to play at your wedding - The Cufflinks - Tracy.

Just because....

2011-05-01T12:24:00.000+01:00

New songs and blue songs #22

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 22 - a song that you listen to when you’re sad - The Beatles - She loves you.

I could have picked any Beatles song, pre '64. Happy days.

... and with a love like that you know you should be glad...

2011-04-30T00:33:00.003+01:00

Tell me, what is my life without your love...

I’ve probably covered this here and here.

But, it’s worth mentioning again. 28 years today I married my sweetheart.

2011-04-29T17:05:00.002+01:00

New songs and blue songs #21

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 21 - a song that you listen to when you’re happy - Rammstein - Du hast.

Wollen Sie einander lieben und achten und die Treue halten bis dass der Tod euch scheidet?

du hast mich gefragt, und ich hab nichts gesagt

2011-04-25T15:06:00.002+01:00

New songs and blue songs #20

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 20 - a song that you listen to when you’re angry - B52s - Love shack.

How can anyone fail to be lifted by this song, it puts a smile on my face and gets me tapping the steering wheel. This song should be mandatory for anyone with road rage, stress or depression. Click the link, crank the volume, sit back and let the big blue wave of music wash all the crap away.

Hop in my Chrysler, it's as big as a whale and it's about to set sail!

2011-04-24T22:53:00.001+01:00

Pools of sorrow, waves of joy...

Just so you know…. The resurrection of Jesus was a sham, a politically motivated magic act designed to give the Jews their king and keep Rome happy. Oh, and god doesn’t exist anyway, heaven is just an illusion, invented by those who would control us, believed by those of us afraid of death. When we die there is nothing but an unending night, an eternal and infinite blackness, our atoms will be one with the universe for ever.

This post was brought to you by the combined effects of sloe rum, whisky and beer.

2011-04-24T21:29:00.003+01:00

New songs and blue songs #19

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 19 - a song from your favoUrite album - The Stone Roses - Ten storey love song.

This is only my favourite album on hot sunny days like today....

There's no sure fire set solution, no short cut through the trees.

2011-04-23T14:59:00.002+01:00

New songs and blue songs #18

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 18 - a song that you wish you heard on the radio - Pulp - Babies.

Great track, it reminds me of the 90s. Camping trips in an old VW camper van, Lamot pils, black cord carpets and black ash furniture, MTV being decent, German channels on Sky, Max Headroom, deciding whether to go for CD or stick with vinyl, walking to work, having a garden, not paying the poll tax, the school run, working nights, making ends meet.

It's funny how all the things I can remember are pretty superficial, not much depth to those memories.... maybe too much booze? Anyway, Pulp were great, this track was brilliant. Enjoy.

Well it happened years ago.....

2011-04-22T11:35:00.002+01:00

New songs and blue songs #17

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 17 - a song that you hear often on the radio - Sammy Davis jnr - The candyman.

This just seems to be on a lot lately, maybe coincidence but I'm not sure. It's a happy song anyway, so enjoy.

Separate the sorrow and collect up all the cream.

2011-04-21T15:19:00.000+01:00

New songs and blue songs #16

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 16 - a song that you used to love but now hate - Shed 7 - Going for gold.

I'm not sure why I liked this group, maybe I was earching for something after the Stone Roses split. I didn't find it here, and every time I hear it now I turn it off.

You took the shine right out of my smile....

2011-04-20T00:02:00.002+01:00

New songs and blue songs #15

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 15 - a song that describes you - Devine comedy - Gin soaked boy.

Ok, I was going to go with The Smiths - Handsome devil, but I opted for self-deprecation instead. I love the lyrics to this song, very clever indeed. You don't hear enough of this group in my opinion. I'm not sure whether the song is a reference to Tom Waits song of the same name or not, I couldn’t find any information on what the song is about. This is a good thing I think, the truth would only spoil the illusion.

Here’s the Tom Waits version in case you were curious.

I’m the will you’ll not destroy, I’m the gin in the gin soaked boy

2011-04-19T22:32:00.001+01:00

It's so lonesome by night and by day...

So, the reason we were in Melton Mowbray last week can now be revealed. I was at the headquarters of a company that has just given me a rather large contract with the makers of a very well-known international brand. I’m going to be on their site somewhere in the North West of England for three days a week till December. I will be teaching them things and hopefully they will be better for it.

This should be rich pickings for a blogger so watch this space. No names obviously, I want to keep the contract and stay out of the courts.

I’ve just got Rage against the machine’s discography, so I have plenty to listen to while I’m away.

2011-04-19T12:34:00.002+01:00

New songs and blue songs #14

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 14 - a song that no one would expect you to love - Brook Benton - Fools rush in.

This song reminds me of growing up. The record player was in the living room and I had to take my turn. In between my grandmother playing Joseph Locke and Harry Secombe, my dad would play Ray Charles, Jim Reeves, some awful country music... and, a 20 greatest hits of Brook Benton. I loved every track, but this one has stayed with me and is never very far away from a playlist.

I have heard lots of versions of this track, but none comes close in my opinion, Mr Benton had a very distinctive voice, and this track is just brilliant.

When we met, I felt my life begin, so open up your heart and let this fool rush in...

2011-04-18T20:39:00.002+01:00

New songs and blue songs #13

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 13 - a song that is a guilty pleasure - Will Young - All time love .

I can't abide the whole pop idle, x factor style shows, so consequently don't have a lot of time for those who "win". Although I think the only winner is the bloke that owns the rights to the show. However, I do appreciate good music, and this young man can sing. I'm not a fan of his because I don't think he has chosen the right music to compliment his voice yet... but hey, music is subjective.

This song is perfect though, he sings it well and I can listen to it any time it comes on the radio.

Some days you're too set in your ways...

2011-04-18T20:23:00.002+01:00

The truth is in what you see - not what you read...

So I was mooching in my referrer stats and found this. I have a mention in the New York Times.

Ok, so it’s probably just an RSS feed, but I’ll take those where I can. I have now been reviewed in the Guardian and Web User, banned in China and have the NY Times on my referrer stats.

Nice.

2011-04-17T17:12:00.001+01:00

Modern Yoga for blokes #1

The Mantis.

Find a comfortable position, it doesn’t have to be the lotus. Reach out both arms and grasp the spam and egg butty with both hands. Stuff in gob. Repeat till you’re full, the butties are all gone, or your arms get tired.

Next in this award winning series… The big dipper.

2011-04-17T00:22:00.001+01:00

New songs and blue songs #12

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 12 - a song from a band you hate - Arctic Monkeys - Dancing Shoes.

I don't know why I don't like them, they've done nothing wrong. They write catchy hooks, clever lyrics and seem pretty good live. As with most thing s first impressions counted, I decided quite quickly that they weren't for me. It could be that he sings with an accent, I can't put my finger on it. I just don't like them. Hate is maybe a strong word, I dislike them a lot. I do listen to music that I don't like, it's called radio. This group don't get that much airplay thankfully, but when they do it's either this one or Mardy bum, and that one does make me laugh, so dancing shoes is probably my pet hate at the moment. I suppose this song celebrates the diversity of music, they've done nothing wrong but I still don't like them.

Don't act like it's not happening.

2011-04-16T23:35:00.001+01:00

You heard me saying a prayer for...

Ok, my throat was sore from shouting at the telly during the fantastic match this evening. City are in a cup final for the first time since 1981. That day I had sneaked into to Hyde United whilst Paul Power scored an amazing injury time free kick to get us to a Wembley final against Spurs. Today Yaya Toure scored through Van Der Sar’s legs to set up a final against Bolton or Stoke.

So, I went downstairs for my cigar with a full moon looking down on me, and as the clouds scudded across its face, it seemed as blue as I’ve ever seen it. Anyway, the smoke and the drink. I opted for a Guantanamera decimos and a Jura superstition. The cigars are machine made and a bit rough around the edges, still a nice 40 minute smoke though. I think the delicate smoke and sweetness in the Jura was overwhelmed, I should have chosen something with a bigger taste, the cigar’s last third killed the drink completely. Maybe the big smoke of the Laphroaig quarter cask would have stood up to it. It wasn’t spoiled though, the night and the memories of today made it an excellent smoke.

Now I have to get ready for the 14th of May, it will be a year and seven days since my dad died, and when they sing abide with me I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold it together. For now, just getting there is good enough. Thank you Blues.

2011-04-16T14:57:00.002+01:00

New songs and blue songs #11

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 11 - a song from your favourite band – The Beatles - I've Just Seen a Face.

An album track for this one, it's off side 2 of Help. I always thought this was an underrated album, it was the transition between pop band and the great world changing leviathan that they became - Revolver came next. Help isn't my favourite Beatles album, but this track is class.

and I want all the world to see we've met

2011-04-15T12:34:00.003+01:00

New songs and blue songs #10

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 10 - a song that makes you fall asleep – Godot - The fragrance of dark coffee.

This tune would chill out a psychotic bull on pcp, it could put a Tasmanian devil into a coma in 3 micro seconds. it could turn the marauding hoards of Atilla the Hun into a snoozing pile of happiness. Let's face it, this tune could rid the world of stress and worry, allowing to us to become one with the universe, ending hunger and focus our efforts on exploring the stars together as one race.

Ok, maybe it isn't that good, but it knocks me out, land of nod in no time.

In the words of Louis Balfour - Niiice!

2011-04-14T12:30:00.003+01:00

New songs and blue songs #9

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 09 - a song that you can dance to – The Gap band - Oops upside your head.

I can't dance, so I don't dance. I know this is a circular arguement and if I never have a go I'll never learn. I'm of the opinion that it's too late so I've given up. Although, I have an image of being in a nursing home in my 80s, and some snot nosed git getting all the codgers up in an attempt to loosen some aged muscles. I have a plan though, I'll just piss myself and shout "don't hit me Adolf" at the top of my lungs.... bed with drugs, no dancing for me.

Anyone who remembers discos or family weddings around the late 70s and most of the 80s will remember this band and the "dance" everyone did. It actually involved no dancing, but an ability to sit on the floor and waft from side to side. This action is actually very easy for someone who happens to be pissed as a fart, so it's the only one I would ever have a go at. The added bonus being, if you're that pissed you can barley maintain a vertical position, you don't have far to fall if it all goes peculiar.

Watch out, I think I like that groove.

2011-04-13T12:47:00.002+01:00

New songs and blue songs #8

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 08 - a song that you know all the words to Tom Waits - The ghosts of Saturday night.

I know the words to hundreds of songs, I know every pause and beat of every Beatles song, it's what happens when you listen to music for over 40 years. It's not like memorising poetry, there are musical cues... like in the Stone Roses' Love spreads, the chorus repeats at the end, then there's a little guitar riff that tells you that last line is coming. Everyone loves singing along, it's satisfying when you get it right.

I've chosen Tom Waits for this one because his lyrics are a work of genius, he paints pictures with words, puts images in my mind. Singing along to this song is an absolute pleasure.

..as he dreams of a waitress with Maxwell House eyes and marmalade thighs with scrambled yellow hair...

2011-04-12T12:25:00.000+01:00

New songs and blue songs #7

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 07 - a song that reminds you of a certain event Joy Division - Love will tear us apart.

At almost every stage of my life there has been a musical score in the background, it makes this question almost impossible to answer. There are so many songs that remind me of particular times that I'm going to pick a random one.

This Joy Division song reminds me of a two week period in 1980 when I bunked off school. I spent two weeks in Stockport, mooching round the Mersey Way and looking through record shops, this song was everywhere, shops, cafes, and market stalls.

Stockport is a different place now, last time I was there I couldn't smell that hot weetabix aroma of Robinson's brewery, no Spinx's pie shop or Victoria chippy.... and all those great record and book shops have gone too.

..and there's a taste in my mouth...

2011-04-11T23:09:00.000+01:00

Dragged a comb across my head...

I had my ears lowered today, it feels a lot better. I went to our local version on Tony & Guy and had my hair cut by a young lady. Surprisingly she didn’t once mention holidays. She was pleasingly quiet, I’ll go back there. Barbers are no better, all they talk about is sodding motorbikes, at least in a hairdressers the person cutting your hair smells pleasant.

On the way home I called for some petrol for tomorrow’s road trip, more on that in a minute. I’m going to add to my list of how to be a productive member of society:

When there’s a line of cars at the petrol station so long it reminds you of a Soviet bread queue, just amble back to your car, adjust your seat, eat a pork pie maybe, then casually start your car, remembering to set the temperature of the climate control and the volume of the radio. Only when you’re good and ready must you pull off. Don’t for one single fucking minute give a monkey’s toss about the poor sod in the queue behind you. He or she will relish the opportunity to sit and do nothing whilst every other pump becomes free and all those in the queue behind him or her get their fuel first. It’s a fantastic opportunity for that person to ponder the deeper questions of life, like why we’re here and why Kenny Rodgers is still breathing while Lennon has been dead thirty years.

So, tomorrow we’re off to Melton Mowbray, home of the famous pork pie. It’s a good four and half hour drive so it’s an early start, breakfast on the road and lunch, obviously, will be pie related. I’ll spill the beans on the reason for the trip after I learn of the outcome.

Quesadillas for tea, homemade of course, and very tasty they were. What was less than tasty was the performance by the Blues at Liverpool. Not happy. Poor tactics from Bobby tonight, more than one eye on Saturday, but in my opinion that’s taking the piss out of Liverpool, and we paid a hefty price. Fair play to the scousers. If we play like that on Saturday our season’s over.

2011-04-11T16:38:00.000+01:00

New songs and blue songs #6

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 06 - a song that reminds you of somewhere – Bob Marley - Three little birds.

Jamaica, Christmas 2008. Reggae was everywhere, the sun was shining and everything was Irie. This was the first holiday that I had an mp3 player and Marley featured on my playlist in a big way. The music and the feel of the songs goes so well with sitting in the sun. Jamaica is the friendliest place we have ever been, it was paradise. We watched the sun set at Rick's cafe. Every time I hear Bob Marley it takes me back, but this song in particular makes me feel warm and relaxed.

Rise up this mornin', smiled with the risin' sun.

2011-04-10T20:03:00.001+01:00

If you hear something late at night...

This story starts in February 2010 with the death of our trusty old washing machine. It had been delivered on the day we moved in and had served us well for about 9 years, it had been used and abused but hadn’t complained once. Then one Sunday morning it emitted a strange grinding sound, issued a small puff of blue smoke and expired. It even had the decency to finish its final load before departing this realm.

We went to Currys to find a replacement and to arrange for the removal of the old one. We opted for a very shiny LG direct drive. The bloke in Currys was droning on about how you can balance a 20p on its end whilst the machine spins at 1200 rpm. We had it delivered and I plumbed it in. It played a tune when it had finished washing our clothes, and it made a good job of washing them too…. But that’s where the positive end. They were forgotten the moment the fucking thing started to spin, the house shook, glasses in the cupboard tinkled and pictures on the wall vibrated. It was traumatic.

I spoke to Currys who told me I shouldn’t have bought a direct drive washing machine for a third floor flat. I mentioned that when I paid for the infernal machine and gave the bloke in Currys our address I mentioned this fact as it affects who they send to deliver it. The Currys henchperson used the well-worn old chestnut of the call centre.. “well he should have mentioned it to you”.

I phoned LG and they told me that their most excellent machine would work on any type of floor, and in fact “I have that very machine and I live on the second floor”… I don’t think she was called Luka, but I do think she was lying.

I relayed this information to Currys, who then decided to send an engineer to fix, what in all probability was my inept installation of the infernal machine. He came and found nothing wrong, but did agree that the vibrations were strange, as he had that very machine, and lived on the second floor. He was called Dave, not Luka.

I bought some rubber feet off eBay, not in an attempt to introduce fetishism into our home, but for the infernal machine to sit on and hopefully dampen the shaking to a level we could live with. I also contacted Currys again and asked for a replacement under their “whatever happens” policy that had been sold to us in the store. “Oh it doesn’t cover that kind of thing” she said, without a hint of irony.. “but it’s called whatever happens” I said. “But that’s just what the policy is called, it doesn’t cover you for whatever happens” she informed me. I laughed and asked her to cancel the policy.

This had now been going on for a good few months and we were fed up. There were cracks appearing on some of our walls, and bottles had fallen off a bathroom shelf. I emailed the chief executives of Currys and LG, told them what a pile of shit there customer service was and told them in no uncertain terms that they should sort it out between themselves and inform me when they had reached a decision as to what course of action to take.

I was contacted by Currys CEO office who apologised and said they would fix it, the CEOs henchman informed me that he too had that very machine and he lived on the 2nd floor and had no problems with it at all. We then had a repeat engineer visit and some different rubber feet before they finally conceded defeat and told us we could exchange the piece of shit for a new one. We arranged collection, it was 12 months to the day we had it delivered, that they came and took it away. We then had to drag our arses through to Carlisle to get a refund, and then went about the process of buying a new one.

We went to Comet.

The new one doesn’t play a tune, but it also doesn’t recreate the feeling of a jumbo jet landing on the fucking roof either. It washes our clothes with very little fuss, which is all we wanted.

During the last few weeks with the LG the vibrations actually cracked two of our windows. We have only just been paid for their replacement.

Never did get to speak to Luka.

2011-04-10T15:05:00.001+01:00

When the moon is in the seventh house...

Aries – 21st March – 19th April.

The devil will send you a text message, you’re his minion – hooves and horns – come on keep up. You see that’s the thing with Arians, a bit slow. It all has to do with the Equinox and losing an hour in the first month of your life, it makes all the difference… you’re an hour behind everyone else on Earth.

Anyway, the devil’s text. He wants you to do his bidding. He has an intense dislike of Cauliflower and commands you to destroy them all, but only on a Wednesday. The other six days you must redress the balance of the brassica slaughter. For this you will need heroic quantities of cheese.

On a lighter note, God hates Cauliflower too, so you won’t be in any trouble when the rapture comes.

2011-04-10T13:49:00.002+01:00

New songs and blue songs #5

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 05 - a song that reminds you of someone – The Beatles - Eleanor Rigby.

I don't know why but this song reminds me of my Grandma. My first memories of her were at the old house, a two-up-two-down mill house in Manchester. It had a real fire and stone stairs, it had a yard and an outside toilet. The was a radio screwed to the window frame in the living room. She was 70 when I was born but I remember her being quite active until I was around 10. She lived with us after the old house was condemned and pulled down in 1973. It was that old house where this memory comes from, the image of a face in a jar by the door. After she died I found out that she had toured Europe with her friends in the 1920s. It was only when I was in my 20s that I found out... she was actually no relation to me.

Waits at the window, wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door.

2011-04-09T23:15:00.001+01:00

As simple as it gets...

I’ve just been for a cigar without having to wear something warm. A tee shirt was enough, the wind has changed direction and is now travelling towards the sea. It was warm and I managed to light the stogie outside. It is a much more pleasant experience in more clement weather, to be enveloped in the blue veil, and not see it fuck off up the street at a rate of knots, is a far nicer thing.

I had a black Russian to drink, just vodka and Kahlua with ice and my smoke was a Romeo y Julietta puritos. It’s small like a Hamlet but a lot smoother. The coffee in the Russian was perfect. A 15 minute smoke with a short drink on the rocks was just right, but I could have stayed out there for hours. I wonder how a Cohiba would deal with a Russian? The Cigar was very nice, I smoked this one a lot further down than previous attempts, the humidor must be working because they are getting a bit milder.

I have the same cigar in number 2, it’s a big smoke so I think I would have to add coke and more ice to the Russian. I’m saving that for a long hot summer night.

2011-04-09T16:40:00.003+01:00

Don't you remember you once knew a girl...

There’s a certain quality of light on a spring morning, it makes it seem wasteful to stay in bed. In the depths of winter, staying in bed all day seems like the right thing to do, but today there was something different, the tug of an unseen string.

Unfortunately that unseen string also tugs the smokers from the club’s doorway and deposits them on garden chairs in the car park. It wouldn’t be a big problem, but the further into the weekend we get, the more drunk they get and consequently the more cigarettes they smoke. The smoke rises and comes in through our windows. Cause and effect – sunny weather equals smoky house. This annoys me greatly, I smoke my cigars outside, away from people’s windows and our house still ends up smelling.

The upshot of being roused early from our slumbers was that we had our normal Saturday morning in reverse. We got up and went shopping, then made sausages for breakfast, then got back in bed and read the papers.

Now for the crossword.

2011-04-09T12:35:00.000+01:00

New songs and blue songs #4

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 04 - a song that makes you sad – Elvis Costello - A good year for the roses.

The end of a relationship is the stuff of thousands of songs, careers have been built on the tears of those who can relate to lost love. The downward spiral of self pity that settles in the soul when the person you love leaves a space there, is usually done badly, with the old cheese dial on the Acme Lyricomatic cranked up to 11. For me, this song is different, it looks at the little things, the unmade bed, the uncut grass... this is the real haunting beauty of a brilliant song, the everyday stuff that would kick you in the bollocks just when you thought you were over it.

This is a cover version but I prefer Elvis singing it.

After three full years of marriage, it's the first time that you haven't made the bed.

2011-04-08T12:28:00.000+01:00

New songs and blue songs #3

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 03 - a song that makes you happy – Paolo Nutini - Pencil Full Of Lead.

This whole album makes me smile, but this song in particular just shouts at me - Be happy, don't worry about all the shit in your life, you have what you need and you have love. It takes an Italian Glaswegian to put things so succinctly, but he's right.

There are a good few others that make me smile, most Bob Marley songs conjour images of sunny days and laid back ways, there are a few songs that make me laugh like Goldie looking chain or the Macc lads... but a smile is different, you can laugh when you're sad but you have to happy to smile. Paolo makes me smile

But best of all, I've got my baby.

2011-04-07T21:30:00.002+01:00

I'm one step ahead of the shoe shine

I got a letter from the BBC. I haven’t been selected for the regional audience council. On the plus side, in the same post was a cheque for £268 to pay for new windows. It’s a long story that involves a washing machine and the chief executive of Currys. I will relay the whole sorry saga at some point over the next few days.

Then there’s Talk Talk. Another sorry tale that has dragged on from last December and is as yet unresolved.

Then there’s 3. This has been going on since January and is due to be resolved tomorrow.

Then there’s Thomson holidays who completely cocked up our Christmas holiday to Cuba. Those fuckers maybe in line for a class action… more on that later.

I’m getting complaint fatigue and a complex. I don’t feel like I’m turning into some kind of Northern Victor Meldrew, but the sheer volume of fuckwittery that I have to deal with on a weekly basis is increasing exponentially. I always maintained that we needed a recession to make sure our service industry pulled up its collective socks and started to give a fuck about customers. We are now in the middle of the worst recession I have ever experienced and the fuckers are getting worse. In a restaurant a few weeks ago and Tracy was given a fork… for a bowl of soup. I think the most annoying thing is the complete absence of any kind of apology or admission of fault. I might start taking a stick out with me, to punish cretinous behaviour with a sharp prod.

2011-04-07T11:55:00.003+01:00

New songs and blue songs #2

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 02 - your least favourite song – James - Sit Down.

The question doesn't ask which song I hate, the list would be too long, it asks which is my least favourite, a far trickier question. If I were to make a list of my top 100 songs, I presume this question wants to know which is #100. With this in mind, my selection should still be a song I love.

A few years ago this would have been in my top ten, but I've heard it too many times and it's lost the shine. I could have picked a few in the same vein, but this one brings back fond memories too. The 90s, in the words of the now infamous tee shirt... top as fuck!

If I hadn't seen such riches I could live with being poor.

2011-04-06T23:36:00.003+01:00

New songs and blue songs

The 30 day song challenge.

Day 1 – Your favourite song – Stranglers – Golden Brown.

This song reminds me so much of the summer after finishing school and before going to college. It was a massive summer holiday, I had finished my exams by the end of May and didn’t start college till late September. It was the summer of 82 and it was long and hot, or at least that’s how I remember it. I also remember Mike Sweeney playing the song on the old Piccadilly radio, on his afternoon show. Even after all these years that harpsichord takes me right back. I love it and could listen to it over and over.

Never a frown with Golden Brown.

2011-04-05T21:47:00.000+01:00

Claustrophobia there's too much paranoia

For quite a few years now we have taken our holidays on the shores of various other nations, and I don’t mean Wales. We both enjoy lounging on a sunbed on a beach, reading a book and sipping brightly coloured drinks that are provided at regular intervals by some unseen hand. It isn’t uncommon to sit in the shade of a palm tree in 40+ temperatures, punctuated by the occasional dip in the azure waters of a warm sea, for days on end. After a siesta we would shower and dress for dinner, and after feeding would retire to a bar somewhere and watch the entertainment whilst getting steadily wankered on cocktails.

Last year we succumbed to family pressure and had a holiday in this country. I can almost hear your head shaking. Certain family members will not fly and so miss out on Caribbean islands and Egyptian wonders. Instead they opt for a caravan “down south”. Now don’t get me wrong, I like caravans, we used to spend all our early holidays in Towyn and had some really good times, before it turned into a Welsh Chechnya. We thought those days were gone, but they came back. It’s actually a great laugh with all the family with the caravans in a circle, but I can’t help thinking how good it would be in Jamaica or Mexico. Anyway, you apparently can’t get to Jamaica in a normal family saloon, so…

We decided to go to Devon Cliffs* and opted for a superior caravan. God knows what an ordinary one would have been like. The one we got was fucking awful and after a complaint and a website we got most of our money back and a free upgrade should we choose to book again.

We’ve booked again.

4 caravans, upgraded to prestige, but this time on a better site. I couldn’t mention down South without mentioning probably the best fish and chips in Cornwall. Rick Stein’s at Padstow. Not the arsey restaurant, the chippy just outside town. I can see a day out for fish and chips. On the other end of the scale is Jamie Oliver’s 15 just outside Newquay, very very nice. The Martini was stunning. Tracy asked the barman how he had made the amazing version of the famous cocktail. He said, in a fantastic French accent “put a small amount of ze vermouth on ze ice and mix gently, zen srow it away” he made a dismissive wave of his hand as if the vermouth was utter shit. “zen you put in ze gin and shake… zen a twist of lemon and voila”

Now we just need it not to fucking rain.

*This shit hole was featured on BBCs Watchdog.

2011-04-04T23:12:00.003+01:00

We skipped the light fandango

If you travel along the M6 to junction 40, or get on the West Coast main line, you’ll eventually find Penrith, a one horse town on the eastern edge of the Lake District. The very strange one-way system makes it seem three times bigger than it really is. If you manage to find a parking space, make sure you only put an hour on your ticket. In fact you’ll spend more time looking for the Penrith tea rooms than actual shopping… and you know what? You won’t find them, they don’t exist. In one of the biggest ever niche market failures, Penrith has failed to exploit Withnail fans. I was very much looking forward to threatening Miss Blennerhassett with the sack, and watching the eye rolling as they heard, for the umpteenth time.. “we want the finest wines available to humanity, we want them here, and we want them now”.

There a couple of nice food shops, one of them is a very big deli in the main square, then there are a couple of little general stores that sell all the Lake District special foods, handmade chocolates, jam, pickles and a very nice damson Gin. There isn’t even a tobacconist and the paper shop didn’t sell cigar matches.

There is however one very good reason to get in your car or on the train and travel a ridiculous distance to get to Penrith. The Angel lane chippy. For an inland town the fish is top class and the pies are delicious. It’s worth the trip believe me. In the past we have been known to drive from Cumbria to Whitby just for fish and chips at the Magpie café, or to Conwy to the chippy just opposite the bakers that sells Vanilla slices the size of breezeblocks. We are connoisseurs of the fish and chip, so when I say go to Penrith just for the Angel chippy, I promise you it’s worth it.

We are not drunks, we are multimillionaires.

2011-04-03T22:41:00.003+01:00

The constant promise of jam tomorrow

I remember bunting strung along the street like a red, white and blue snake. I remember everyone lining up their tables and chairs in the middle of Acresfield Road, and filling them with sandwiches, pies, crisps, trifle and as much pop as you get down your neck. I remember a huge barrel of beer in our shed, and all the dads wandering up our garden for a refill. I remember sneaking half a pint when no one was looking. I remember the games on the Bay Horse car park and the singing and dancing into the night. The Queen’s silver jubilee, I was eleven and I knew everyone on our road.

We have lived here for ten years and I’m 45, we only have friends in our flats, we only know other people just as nodding acquaintances. I can’t see our road having a party for the upcoming wedding. Not that I really give much of a toss about the nuptials, but the breakdown of our society is very sad. I actually started with another line from that song as the title, nostalgia is an opium and I’m aware I have probably just taken a fucking big toke, but I’m pretty sure we’ll never see that kind of community again. Don’t get me wrong, we had some great arguments on our street in those days, there were people who hated each other, but the kids weren’t affected and all was forgotten for the party.

Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?

That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.

A E Housman.

2011-04-03T12:54:00.001+01:00

I've found a paradise that's trouble proof

The lines have been drawn, it begins.

Here are the pictures.

I thought I should tell the club, I know the Crows won’t be too pleased but the damage will be expensive. I will post updates and photos of the ensuing war.

2011-04-02T23:23:00.001+01:00

But I take delight in the juice of the barley

I think as you get older the palate become more refined, more open to individual flavours. I’m no Oz Clarke but I do appreciate a fine combination of flavours, and tonight I put two together.

Glenfarclas 10-year-old single malt

Monte Cristo #5

I know that booze and tobacco are frowned upon these days, but with moderation in all things in mind, I don’t think it’s a huge issue. I don’t drink on a school night and I only smoke a couple of cigars a month. I’m sure my doctor would disapprove, but there has to be some enjoyment in life or what’s the point?

Anyway, the combination. They complimented each other well. The cigar was strong but didn’t kill the sweetness of the scotch. The smoke got a little bitter towards the end, but I think there must be an accumulation around the cut end. The whisky stood up well and was the dominant flavour, which I prefer. A very enjoyable 25 minute smoke.

2011-04-02T21:02:00.005+01:00

I'll break into your house and I'll smell your bed

Whilst I don’t altogether agree with the outcome of Kipling’s poem the betrothed, I can’t argue with his love for a good cigar. To be enveloped in the blue veil is an excellent way to relax. It’s very strange because I can’t abide cigarettes. To be fair I haven’t been smoking cigars that long. I had my first last year at my brother in law’s wedding. I had brought a few back from the Dominican Republic a few days before, and in the post wedding feast glow on a warm summer evening, I stood outside with my son and we smoked a particularly mild panatela, which is about 5 inches long and 34/64ths of an inch in diameter. It’s about a 40 minute smoke, which gives you ample time to drink a nice glass of brandy or a decent single malt. They both complement each other so well.

Between summer and Christmas I had about half a dozen more, including a Monte Cristo number 2 the night Movember finished. This cigar is widely considered to be one of the best in the world. I’m not sure I had enough experience to agree or disagree. A vile experience with a Hamlet didn’t put me off and I went to Cuba in December with a plan.

I brought back around 65 cigars, varying sizes and differing qualities of cigar, from Romeo Y Julietta handmade puritos to machine made Guantanamera. All of them excellent smokes. The number of cigars presented me with a problem; I had to make sure they didn’t dry out. I needed a humidor, so I trawled eBay for a couple of weeks and bought a really nice one from a German bloke.

So, after seasoning the Spanish Cedar, which is actually not Spanish and not Cedar, I charged the humidifier and put my collection in their new home. The best conditions for a cigar is around 20 to 25 degrees Celsius and around 70% humidity. The humidor is set up perfectly and my cigars are now ageing, and will be improving over the next 10 years or so. Not that they’ll get the chance to live in there for that long.

My only regret is that a cigar would completely ruin a Martini, only the strong spirits or a black Russian can stand up to the flavour. Maybe a Martini made with Kahlua, but it wouldn’t be the same as a really good Gin and Lillet blanc with a twist of lime.

All this talk has made me want a smoke.

2011-04-01T22:54:00.000+01:00

Now what's that sound from under the door?

The Crows have found a new home. The Working men’s club at the back of our flat has an unused upstairs room. The Crows have lifted one of the roof tiles and sneaked into the roof space. They have been ferrying nesting materials all day. The Seagulls have been watching them with interest from their vantage point on a high chimney pot. There will be trouble.

I'll take some photos of the birds over the weekend, but for now... alcohol.

2011-03-31T22:39:00.003+01:00

Late of Pablo Fanques' fair, what a scene

We’re on the list for Radio 1s big weekend concert in Carlisle. As it stands I think we have around a 1 in 50 chance. The site crashed there were that many people trying to register.

It’s on Carlisle airfield so let’s hope the weather stays nice, if it doesn’t it’ll be a windswept mud bath. I wonder where Gaga and the Foo fighters are staying?

2011-03-30T23:17:00.001+01:00

It’s like a jungle, sometimes it makes me wonder

This is pure class, better than lamebook. You’ll lose hours.

2011-03-30T22:29:00.005+01:00

Sun is red; moon is cracked

I have of late - but wherefore I know not - lost all my mirth; and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appeareth nothing to me but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.

Stress is a killer, and it creeps up on you like a ninja. It is also one of those afflictions that no one admits to having, no one wants to admit they can’t handle the trials and tribulations of life at the sharp end of the rat race, and no matter how many times you say you aren’t in the race, you are.

So you get home after work, all tense and wound tighter than a tight thing, what do you do? Booze, comfort eat, kick the cat, cigarettes or weed? Try this instead….

Get a milky drink, Horlicks or chocolate will do.

Fire up you puter, turn on the sound and open two tabs in your favourite browser.

Go here in one tab, and here in the second.

Sit back in your chair and just listen.

If you want to you can try belly breathing and guided imagery to just tip you over the edge. But I guarantee you will be chilled.

As you sit in your state of nirvanic euphoria, your mind may wander to places you haven’t been for a while, like old films or places……

What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world, the paragon of animals—and yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me— nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so.

2011-03-29T21:48:00.002+01:00

I feel as sharp as a carving knife

I’m having good fun with Pushnote, it’s finally created a use for twitter. In fact it’s that good I’ve put a twitter logo down on your right because I’m going to start using it again. Pushnote is a great tool for sharing links and commenting on net stories, techy stuff and of course arty things. It’s a bit like a party in an empty house at the moment, but it will be excellent.

2011-03-29T21:30:00.000+01:00

Well there’s a small boat made of China

I was sat playing chess last night and my elbow started to hurt. This puzzled me because I hadn’t done anything to warrant any pain there. I had noticed in January that it was hurting, but put it down to my elbow being incredibly pissed off that we had come back to a mini ice age from our temporary home in the Caribbean. I like the warmth, it suits me. In true bloke style I told Tracy my elbow was hurting…. “what’s the weather forecast for tomorrow?” she said. I checked and it was cold and rain. “There you go” she said.

It appears my elbow is a weatherman. I’ve named it John Kettley. It couldn’t be that woman with the huge gob, she’s got weird hands, and it couldn’t be the bloke on the Sunday BBC weather, his head is far too big and freaks me out. John Kettley, to my knowledge, is the only weatherman to have a song named after him, so it had to be him. It’s pissing down as I type this and John is aching.

To try and counter the effects of the weather I have decanted myself a rather large glass of single malt. It’s too cold and wet to go and have a cigar. Roll on summer.

2011-03-28T21:11:00.001+01:00

Thought I oughta tear the curtain down

At some point in early January, as the post-Christmas dearth settled around my neck, I lost a couple of hours inside the BBC website. During my befuddled wanderings I came across the regional councils page, and as fate turned her gaze ever so slightly in my direction, they were recruiting. A few minutes of random thoughts on an electronic application later and I had applied. I then promptly forgot about the whole experience and went about the rest of January with the usual mix of seasonal affected disorder and Victor Meldrew style grumpiness. Then in mid-February I received an email from the BBC informing me that I had been selected to attend a short listed interview at BBC TV centre in Newcastle, in early March. They sent me some stuff to read and a DVD to watch, the interview would be an informal group discussion about the aforementioned DVD. I was also told to watch some regional programs and make my feelings about them known to the group. The DVD was an episode of “Come fly with me”, the series by Walliams and Lucas.

We had a day out in Newcastle, after lunch at Carlisle’s brand new Nando’s. The interview was at 6pm so we had a wander round Eldon Square first. At this point I must complain about Newcastle’s ridiculous one-way system. We drove in circles for twenty minutes around the city centre, passing the train station three times, before stopping and asking a nice police lady. In true Geordie style, instead of telling us where to go she told us to follow her. We followed her back round the city centre before taking a left turn we had missed at least three times, and there was Eldon Square. I didn’t get a chance to thank her as we were in traffic and she drove off, but what nice thing to do.

Eldon Square made a nice change. Tracy bought me a pair of Kurt Geiger shoes, blue suede ones. I was very chuffed. I left Tracy there and made my way the one and half miles to the TV centre for the interview.

As I sat and waited in reception it occurred to me that I didn’t have the foggiest idea what I had written on the application form, I would just have to hope I didn’t get quizzed on my answers. I needn’t have worried, the interview was more like a village hall debating club, everyone was very nice. It passed very quickly and before I knew it I was back at Eldon Square to pick up Tracy.

After a detour around the Gateshead ring road we just made it to Harry Ramsden’s for fish and chips before they closed. We drove home, the car smelling of fish and chips, and listened to Stuart Maconie reviewing the life and times of George Formby. It was a grand day out.

The BBC, being what it is, had told us that it would be a month before we found out which of us had been selected to sit on the council. I’m waiting with baited breath.

The shoes are the most beautiful I have ever seen.

2011-03-28T17:10:00.003+01:00

Before the ocean was blue

This is new and very interesting. I installed the plug-in, and with ten minutes it seemed like the best thing since sliced bread. Besides, Stephen Fry is behind it so it must be good.

http://www.pushnote.com/

2011-03-27T18:23:00.002+01:00

Falling through liquid air with music everywhere

The Crowes have departed for pastures new, or the Crow equivalent of pastures, roofs probably. The peace has been deafening.

I feel comfortable back here, I know there have been some false re-starts, but this time just feels right. I’ve altered a few things, added some stuff and deleted the dead blogs in the list. I’ve added some new ones and some old friends who have moved to new addresses. Things are different and technology has driven things in other directions. I prefer to manage my blogroll manually, old school. Happily the content of blogs is what I want, not how shiny or new-fangled it is.

I still have things to say, and Facebook isn’t the best place to evolve ideas and sow seeds. Twitter was fun for about a day but I lost interest. I’m a waffler and limited characters wasn’t doing it for me.

I have all the old comments from YACCS but absolutely no idea how to import them. I can code html by hand, I know hexadecimal colour codes from memory, but the code that blogger uses has always stumped me. I think for the foreseeable future there will be a lot of zeros on the older posts… in fact there may well be a lot of zeros on the new ones, who knows.

Nine years tomorrow since I first blogged, how time flies and how we all change.

plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose.

2011-03-26T22:28:00.006Z

I can make it longer if you like the style

My book is now available on iPhone iBooks. You can read a sample before parting with your hard earned 99p.

2011-03-26T12:59:00.002Z

I got caught in a coloured shower

So, it’s finished. After six weeks of fun, laughter, tears and the occasional cross word, the journey has finally come to an end…. Rob & Timmy won.

Yes, I’m talking about C4s Coach trip, and it was compulsive viewing. Apparently that was series 6, but I hadn’t even heard of it before this version. Living in Workington we were really hoping Hillary and Terry would win, but the lads deserved it. The star of the show was Brendan, anyone who can pull off short and fat with such aplomb is alright in my book.

We actually went on a coach trip a few years ago, but it wasn’t like that one. We went from Cumbria to the Rhine valley on a coach with about 40 coffin dodgers and a tour guide that looked like Cripin. We asked the nice lady at Cumbria newspapers, who we booked with, if it was full of “old people”, we were in our late 20s I think. She assured us it wasn’t so we paid. We got on the coach to be presented with a group of pensioners who were already wrapped up in blankets and fast asleep. Luckily we had persuaded Tracy’s sister and her partner to accompany us, and soon the beers were out and we were having a laugh, much to the dismay of the sleeping codgers.

Germany was great and we had a very good time, causing a riot on the way home when the rest of the coach found out we had been to a castle and had a great day on very little money, and they had all paid a fortune for an organised trip to the same place. Cripin was less than pleased with us.

I would do it again, but not for a TV program.

I’m now hoping C4 don’t do another series, it wouldn’t seem right. I’ll have to find something else to watch before tea now.

2011-03-25T23:09:00.003Z

You were only waiting for this moment to arise

It’s so easy to anthropomorphise.

It’s that time of year, when the daffodils start to bloom, the blossom hangs along the bough and the little woodland creatures start fuck each other like… well like Rabbits. These activities aren’t confined to ground based creatures, the birds are at it too. This brings me to the birds in question, Crows. There has been a power struggle in the vicinity, and the Crows have been ousted from their preferred roost by a mob of delinquent Seagulls. The Crows, in turn, have ousted a rather timid group of Starlings from their nest site in our eaves. The problem we have is that Crows are a fair bit bigger than Starlings and have been busy remodelling the cavity between our dining room and the outside wall. Like feathery scroats, they are bold because they know I can’t fly after them… damn their intelligence. We had only a short window of opportunity to block their entrance before they nested and laid. Tonight the hole is blocked and their nocturnal philanderings will remain, like the rest of the furry hoard, outdoors.

I should explain. The dining room is actually now my office, I annexed it in the summer of 2009, and it’s been getting steadily untidier by the day. The noise of the Crows digging and pecking was becoming annoying. Couple that with my tinnitus and I was ready for a nervous breakdown. The Crows mocked me, waiting till I sat back down and started working, before sneaking back and starting up the jack hammer again.

Observing the whole thing, like some kind of aloof broadsheet critic, is the lonely Wood Pigeon. He’s been here for around three years, and in all that time has never had a mate. He must watch the Crows and Seagulls as they flit from cluster fuck to cluster fuck, like feathered Casanovas. The lonely Wood Pigeon remains, like Poe’s Raven.

Like I said, it’s easy to anthropomorphise.

2011-03-24T21:51:00.002Z

You gotta swat them flies and chain up the dogs

I arrived home from college to be greeted by the mouth-watering smells of homemade ham and lentil soup, fresh bread and a ginger cake. There’s something primal and comforting about coming home to a warm house with hot food waiting. If god existed he would be in his heaven, and everything would be right with the world. Now I’m pleasantly full and the house smells great.

I’ve sold another copy of my book, that makes… two copies sold. Nine people have downloaded the free 15% but only two have gone on to buy the full thing. I have got a review though:

This is a brilliantly light hearted look into the ultimate holiday from hell. Adrian Mole meets Benidorm and captures the phrase "it’s funny because its true" at its best.

One step closer to being a travel writer.

2011-03-23T22:56:00.002Z

colder than a gut shot bitch wolf dog

Overheard in a hospital waiting room today...

“just make sure you keep it clean, and don't rub it too vigorously”.

Good advice I think.

2011-03-23T21:43:00.001Z

Tear the promise from my heart

I’m resurrecting the Bluetealeaf sponsored, thinking monkey for the stupid. It’s like a seeing eye dog, but for cretins.

The first recipient of this highly sought after honour is….. George Osborne.

A budget for growth. It’s like planting seeds on a piece of ground you’ve just dropped an A bomb on, then putting weed killer down and expecting green shoots. All the cuts that have been implemented over the last few months will result in increased unemployment, putting more strain on the welfare state and swallowing up any savings they have made. If you want an economy to grow you have to have people spending. Saddling students with crippling debts and removing education maintenance allowance will have a huge effect on our education system. The removal of funding for workplace training will mean those who are on the bottom rung of the work ladder won’t get any higher, and those that are unemployed won’t be able to learn skills that would get them a shot at a job.

This may sound a bit radical, but allowing those evil bankers to have their bonuses would maybe have meant that they would have spent the money on stuff, like a shiny new conservatory, keeping their local joiner in work, or a nice new car. Remove all incentives to work here and all our skilled people will sod off abroad, all our university graduates will go and work for multi nationals. We’ll be left with a windswept hinterland populated by hooded scroats, littered with dog shit and the only ones working will be behind the counter at one of the three million Greggs bakers.

Is that what you want George?

Here’s your Monkey.

2011-03-23T10:01:00.003Z

A hatbox full of drum.

I’m off to Workington community hospital today to see if I can get my tinnitus, at the very least, diagnosed. There’s little chance of repairing it, twenty odd years in industry has left me with a constant high pitched tone on both ears. It’s worse in the dead of night with no background noise to dampen it, it gets loud and feels as if it’s actually in my brain. The normal background noise of everyday life does keep it quiet most days, but it’s getting worse.

Pink noise is supposed to kill it, but I have tried a homemade version and it didn’t work. Let’s hope the specialist can suggest something else other than sticking something long and pointy in there and having a poke around. Hearing is the one sense I would never give up, I’d rather be blind than deaf, imagine a world without music.... it doesn’t bear thinking about.

I’m going to listen to Paolo Nutini before I go, it should chill me out.

2011-03-22T21:56:00.000Z

Put the vice grips on my mental health

This is first class….

Fuck me Cathy, has’t been out on t’moor? It’s proper brass monkeys out theer. You’ve been lookin’ for who? Heathcliff? Not that big fuckin’ ponce. He’s a cocknocker, and you’ll catch your fuckin’ death….

Oi ‘eathcliff, where the fuck have you been, I’ve been all over lookin’ for you…. Never mind the fuckin’ rain. That’s it, I’m marrying Edgar, you’re a knob.

2011-03-22T20:46:00.004Z

All these places have their moments

It’s almost nine years since I started this place, but it’s over four years since I paid it any real interest. A lot of my old links have become electronic dead ends, people move on I suppose. My old comments have gone the way of many of the old blogging tools, it seems like so long ago. The world has turned and we’ve all got older.

A potted history of the last four years….

Tracy became an applied psychologist, Taxdodger started paying tax, and now pays more than I do, I started my own business after leaving my previous employer, I’m a bit fatter and now take the occasional cigar with my booze, there has been sadness and joy, new life and those we won’t see again. Time has moved inexorably forward one second at a time and shows no signs of slowing.

My blood is still rapidly increased in temperature by politicians, scroats, fuckwits, and all manner of celebrity tosscocks, especially those who think it’s acceptable to whore themselves for a multitude of useless shite, hawked during the advert breaks. More on this later.

I still despise cushions and butter beans, and turned incandescent with rage by the sound of a hoover.

I still love Manchester City, Tom Waits and a host of arty stuff, and I love a good old rant.

2011-03-22T17:26:00.004Z

Pin your ear to the wisdom post

It's been that long I had to reset my password. Lots of stuff has happened, water under numerous bridges, and some of them burned. I'll clear the dust and get everything working again, I fancy another go at this.

In the meantime I've written a book, and sold one....

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/46057

2010-10-12T16:42:00.002+01:00

My Fu Manchu was real fine

Can anyone let me know how to activate comments on this new fangled blogger? Actually that may be a little hard with no comments.

Check out the link to Movember down to your right, it's a good cause and I would love some more sponsor money.

Thanks.

2010-10-12T16:11:00.001+01:00

The answer my friend, is blowing in the wind...

Hmm, not been here for a while, I'll just have a dust around and see if it still works.

2009-03-01T21:19:00.002Z

So I start a revolution from my bed

I may have to come back here. I'm having bandwidth issues that are very puzzling. More later.

Unfortunately YACCS is no more, the comments that served me so well for years has thrown in the towel. I'll sort a different one soon.

2007-09-23T14:29:00.000+01:00

I have moved.

Please bear with me while I settle in to the new place.

Follow me if you like.

2007-09-09T21:23:00.000+01:00

Eat your greens.

So the government is planning on throwing a couple of hundred quid at mums-to-be for them to buy fruit and veg’. I pondered this for about 30 seconds, and it occurred to me that those mums who would buy them anyway, aren’t going to spend the money on more, and those would be mums who weren’t going to buy any, still wont and the money will go on something else. What are our leaders after here ? Has Birdseye just bunged Gordy ?

I have recently been listening to a lot of Ska. I was of the age in the late seventies and early eighties during its rebirth. I love the Specials, Selector and The Beat. I still do, as do many others. That’s why I was more than disappointed to hear that the Specials are re-forming for a one-off gig at the 40th birthday party of an incredibly rich football chairman. Not for their fans though. The lengths to which people will whore themselves never ceases to amaze me.

Just back from a week in Turkey, I’m off to ponder the wit of those in power whilst drinking my duty free allocation.

2007-08-24T22:41:00.001+01:00

Chip and bin.

Councils have a master plan. We are going to be paying for rubbish removal by weight. This revelation has left me wondering if the powers that be regularly take mind altering substances. A chip in our bins will allow the council to send each home a bill. Do you really think that everyone will be honest and only put their rubbish in their bin ? As soon as you put your bin out to be emptied, the sneaky rubbish cuckoos will be out depositing their black bags in other people’s bins. Fly tipping will reach unheard of proportions and our streets will be awash with unadopted detritus. If this plan goes ahead, rats will rule the earth.

As for David Cameron, his plan of removing the right of offenders to apply for their driver’s license until a year later than they should is just as fucking daft as the rubbish collection plans. Are we to believe that a young offender will be remotely arsed that he can’t get a license ? He will just drive anyway. Cameron uses the same logic that says illegal immigrants won’t come here because they can’t get an ID card.

Two contenders for a bluetealeaf sponsored thinking monkey for the stupid.

2007-08-19T21:25:00.000+01:00

Good stuff.

Easy on your ears, this is my recommendation for what's left of our miserable summer.

Listen and enjoy.

2007-08-16T21:07:00.001+01:00

God made you do it ?

I hear stories of religious idiots who commit atrocities in the name of their particular grey haired old man in the sky. I have even heard of people who murder other human being because god told them to. Some sick fuckers picket funerals and abuse those people who have cause to use abortion clinics. “God told me” is the excuse I’ve heard countless times.

Something puzzles me about this. Why doesn’t god tell them to come and wash my car ? Or do a bit of dusting. When walking down the street, why doesn’t someone offer me a tenner because “god told them to” ?

Isn’t it strange how god only asks his followers to do evil ?

And don’t even think of telling me that millions of people do good every day in the name of god…. They don’t get voices in their heads. They do good deeds because they have an innate capacity for kindness, filtered and refined over countless generations. A perfect example of evolution. Survival of the fittest, nothing more, nothing less.

2007-08-14T23:19:00.000+01:00

I've been

to the dentist. This is a big deal for me.

A question for Pastor Ted Phelps. Is a box of swan vestas just a load of fag enablers ?

2007-03-26T23:18:00.000+01:00

5

This blog is 5 today.

2007-03-13T17:54:00.000Z

Bollocks to it.

We're off to Tunisia for a week. It may go some way to make up for not going to Malaysia.

I've got 4 books for the beach, I wonder if that'll be enough ?

2007-03-08T17:34:00.000Z

Arse-fucking-biscuits.

My news should have been ace. Tracy is currently doing a degree in applied psychology; one of her lecturers has been invited to deliver his paper on community cohesion in relation to the post Carlisle floods, at the 7th annual conference of the Association of Asian Social Psychology in Malaysia in July. He had already committed to deliver a paper in Sweden at the same time, so he asked Tracy to go to Malaysia to deliver it for him. There aren’t enough exclamation marks to put after that to give it any more impact. What a fantastic, once-in-a-lifetime experience ? She would have to give a forty minute lecture and then field questions from some of the world’s top psychologists.

The dean of the university has said no !

At this moment I’m fighting off feeling of murderous rage. If I ever meet the snivelling cunt I won’t be responsible for my actions.

2007-03-04T18:13:00.000Z

Bursting....

to tell you something, but I can't till Tuesday. I don't want to jinx it.

2007-02-22T20:22:00.000Z

Pondering in February.

I got my email from Tony Blair; it went straight into my junk folder. He can’t even fool a machine into believing he’s genuine. 1.8 million people signed the petition; he will still carry on regardless and bring in another tax.

As a non smoker I have welcomed the forthcoming ban on public smoking, but I was beginning to have second thoughts, mostly because of the images of empty pubs I have seen on telly, and groups of thin grey people standing huddled in makeshift shelters, enveloped in clouds of horrible smoke. I felt sorry for the smokers. But then I heard a few of them moaning on the news last night, what a load of whingeing fuckers, I have lost all sympathy. Ban it and enforce the ban properly.

Speaking of smoking bans, and I’ve probably already ranted about this, but why the fuck haven’t we banned smoking whilst driving ? If it’s dangerous to have a phone conversation why isn’t it dangerous to have a small fire in our mouths ?

Here’s a radical thought, ban smoking all together. Make it a class A drug and send the fuckers to prison.

Now, what about dog shit ? What about people who litter ? What about the hooded scroats that roam our land making a fucking nuisance of themselves ? I think we need more prisons, or national service. Fuck it, bring back the birch. Public flogging for all minor offenders, transportation to the colonies for the rest.

Rumours that I’m voting Tory at the next election are strongly denied.

2007-01-31T22:05:00.000Z

Why ?

Why does Barry Scott feel the need to shout at me from the television ? It’s just fancy soap Barry, shut the fuck up.

Why does Match of the day feel the need to put City on last every fucking week ? In fact Sky did it last weekend, we got a couple of minutes with no commentary, just the mumblings of two has been footballers from the studio. It’s a media conspiracy I tell you.

Why wont companies email you back ? Is there no common decency left these days ? I fucking despair sometimes. We need a recession, that would sort the bastards out; they would be quick to get back to us then…. Fuckers.

These and many other questions will probably never be answered.

2007-01-30T18:38:00.000Z

The solution.

Big Bobbie had bun problems, here’s the solution.

If Big Bobbie labelled his bun machines 1 to 10 then took 1 bun from machine 1 and 2 buns from machine 2, then 3 buns from machine 3 and so on up to machine 10 he would be able to weight them all at once, thus using his scales once only. If the load was 4g light then machine 4 is the culprit, likewise if the load was 9g light, then machine 9 is the faulty one.

A simple yet elegant solution don’t you think ?

2007-01-29T20:27:00.000Z

It makes you think.

We all have things that are precious to us, maybe they’re real or possibly they are memories, special thoughts or secrets. We have places to hide them away, behind locks or in holes under the floor, or maybe wrapped in the deep confines of our minds. Sometimes we lock things away so safe and for so long we forget ourselves where they are. Then years later, a smell or a particular string of words spoken in a certain way can take you back, and all is revealed again.

Have you ever just found yourself thinking about an old friend or place you used to visit ? Just a thought out of the blue ? I wonder what triggered it, I wonder what series of smells and sounds, or words would bring those deep memories back to the surface again ?

I have found myself making a mental process of this recently. If I suddenly think of someone or something I try and trace the most recent sights and sounds, or word, music, tastes, or anything else that could contribute to the retrieval process.

I find myself fascinated by the mind, by everything from its evolution to it chemical processes and beyond into what it may be capable of.

One of my memory triggers is the smell of raw tobacco, it brings back a vivid memory of childhood, being cold and wrapped up in my dad’s sheepskin coat at the side of a cricket field. It has occurred to me that maybe once you have made the connection that every time after you are just referring back to the most recent time it happened. In that case it maybe more than the smell, it could have been something else.

Help me out; do you have any memory triggers ? Do you know why ? Or do you just have an opinion ?

2007-01-28T14:59:00.000Z

More music.

This is another great album, there's some very good stuff out at the moment. I've never been a massive Springsteen fan, but this is well worth a listen. As is Norah Jones' new album.

2007-01-27T23:08:00.000Z

Big Bobbie’s bun factory.

Big Bobbie had a bun factory; his buns were exceedingly good and loved by everyone. However, Bobbie had a problem. One of his 10 bun making machines was making buns 1g lighter than the other 9 machines. Bobbie only had one set of old scales and knew he could only use them one more time. How did he discover which of his 10 machines was making the light buns, with only 1 use of his old scales ?

2007-01-23T21:41:00.000Z

Read all about it.

In other news, James are touring again.

2007-01-21T12:55:00.000Z

Chess #001

Black to play. Would you resign ?

2007-01-20T17:04:00.000Z

Another nail in the coffin of the welfare state.

I’ve heard plenty of debate recently about why our health service is ineffective and going down the proverbial shitter. The three links below will give you some idea of the real reason behind the decline of the NHS. I have been a harsh critic of PFI and see no reason to change my mind. If anyone thinks that private companies would act out of any other motivation than making money then you’re as deluded as a C4 executive defending BB.

The first link made me laugh, the Tories invented PFI and now have the audacity to criticise its effects on the NHS.

The second link made me fucking mad. There are people being denied effective medicine and care in order to line the pockets of big business shareholders. Welfare for the rich… I hope you’re fucking proud of yourself Mr Blair.

The third link made me weep, and illustrates just how out of touch the government are, and just how riddled with corruption this country is.

You would think that maybe some money should be spent on actually making ill people better. Maybe I’m being naïve, but I thought that’s what the NHS did.

I think I’ll move to Cuba, they have a better health and education system than we have, it’s free and it works. Although, if Fidel doesn’t pull through I can see things changing quite quickly.

2007-01-13T22:31:00.000Z

Musical musings.

At the beginning of December I recommended Tom Waits’ new album and hailed it as three discs of absolute genius. Steve offers the same advice here, albeit a little more eloquently. Here’s a little snippet of the man’s lyrical genius.

Lucinda.

Well they call me William the Pleaser
I sold opium, fireworks and lead
Now I'm telling my troubles to strangers
When the shadows get long I'll be dead

Now her hair was as black as a bucket of tar
Her skin as white as a cuttlefish bone
I left Texas to follow Lucinda
Now I'll never see heaven or home

I meet her when Charlotte slivers in moonlight
A sly grin and a bow full of stars
I got a kid who captures a firefly
And leaves it over there to die at the shore

As I kick at the clowns at my hanging
As I swing out all over the crowds
I will search every face for Lucinda
And she'll go off with me down the hill

I thought I'd broke loose of Lucinda
Rain returned and so did the wind
I cast this burden on the God's that's within me
Now he'll miss the world and go free

The devil danced inside empty pockets
But she didn't want money or pearls
Boy that wasn't enough for Lucinda
She wasn't that kind of girl

Now I've fallen from grace for Lucinda
Who'd ever thought that Hell would be so cold?
I did well for an old tin can sailor
But she want it the bell in my soul

I spoken to God on the mountain
And I've swam in the Irish Sea
I've ate fire and drank from the Ganges
I've played bell for mercy for me

I thought I'd broke loose of Lucinda
Rain returned and so did the wind
I was standing outside the white house
And there I was afraid to go in

I heard someone pull the trigger
Her breast heaved in the moonlight again
There was a smear of gold in the window
And then I was the jewel of her sin

They call me William the Pleaser
I sold opium, fireworks and lead
Now I'm telling my troubles to strangers
When the shadows get long I'll be dead

Now her hair was as black as a bucket of tar
Her skin as white as a cuttlefish bone
I left Texas to follow Lucinda
I know I'll never see heaven or home
No I'll never see heaven or home
No I'll never never see heaven or home

Another great album out at the moment is Dog House Music by Seasick Steve; he stole show on Jools’ Hootenanny at New Year. His life story is well worth reading on wikipedia and the album is a bargain at £9.99 on play.

2007-01-10T17:43:00.000Z

The Gambler.

I have issues with Kenny Rogers. This started a few weeks ago when I heard a fucking awful song about what a hard time the USA has had over the last ten years. Not as fucking hard as anyone foolish enough not buy arms of them I can tell you.

Anyway, whilst mulling over Rogers’ mawkish shite I happened to think about The Gambler, one of his earlier hits. I actually quite like the song; it’s one of those I find myself singing along to when it’s on the radio. I decided to listen a bit more carefully just in case there were hidden messages about the world issues of the day. What I discovered was that once you get past the catchy chorus it actually doesn’t say anything about anything. It’s meaningless wank.

Allow me to explain.

On a warm summers evenin’ on a train bound for nowhere,
I met up with the gambler; we were both too tired to sleep.
So we took turns a starin’ out the window at the darkness
till boredom overtook us, and he began to speak.

A train bound for nowhere ? Does this not mean it’s stationary ? And since when has anyone been too tired to sleep, it’s like these fuckers that tell you it’s too cold to snow. You can’t stare at darkness, there’s’ nothing to see. There’s one thing I know about train journeys, and that’s if there is an old bloke in your compartment or the next seat he WILL speak to you, bored or otherwise. There’s no escape even if you don’t make eye contact, he’ll waffle about just about anything.

He said, son, I’ve made a life out of readin’ peoples faces,
And knowin’ what their cards were by the way they held their eyes.
So if you don’t mind my sayin’, I can see you’re out of aces.
For a taste of your whiskey Ill give you some advice.

If we are to believe the first two lines of this verse then this bloke must have made an absolute fortune at the card tables of America, why then is he waffling to a loser on a shitty train bound for “nowhere” ? The second two lines prove my argument, he’s basically saying “you’re a loser, but you’re obviously doing better than me because you have whiskey, give me some and I’ll tell you how not to be a loser”

So I handed him my bottle and he drank down my last swallow.
Then he bummed a cigarette and asked me for a light.
And the night got deathly quiet, and his face lost all expression.
Said, if you’re gonna play the game, boy, ya gotta learn to play it right.

He then scrounges a cigarette as well the cheeky twat. The pearl of wisdom in the last line needs no explanation, do you know anyone who doesn’t want to learn how to do it right ?

You got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em,
Know when to walk away and know when to run.
You never count your money when you’re sittin’ at the table.
There’ll be time enough for countin’ when the dealin’s done.

Now we get to the crux of the song, the chorus. This is where he imparts his killer poker wisdom that will allow the listener to run out and make a fortune. The first line encompasses the whole thing, if you can master that bit you’ll be a millionaire before you can say “Straight flush”. But he doesn’t tell us how, how do you know when to hold and when to fold ? Tell us oh wise one, because if you can’t this song is pretty much dead on its arse.

Now every gambler knows that the secret to survivin’
Is knowin’ what to throw away and knowing what to keep.
‘cause every hand’s a winner and every hand’s a loser,
And the best that you can hope for is to die in your sleep.

So when he’d finished speakin’, he turned back towards the window,
Crushed out his cigarette and faded off to sleep.
And somewhere in the darkness the gambler, he broke even.
But in his final words I found an ace that I could keep.

Again we are offered the blindingly obvious in place of decent advice and after imparting it the gambler drops dead. Still our listener seems to get something from the shit advice imparted by the bum. We’re then treated to a few repetitions of the chorus before it finally fades out, just in case we didn’t hear right the other three times. I’m surprised anyone in the US is still working; they must all be fucking rolling in it.

Well done Kenny, you’ve made a fortune out of a song that says fuck all to anyone. Ok, that’s not difficult; most of the shite that’s peddled these days is vacuous bollocks. This might be a recurring theme here.

2007-01-08T17:32:00.000Z

Happy New Year.

The main reason it’s been quiet on this little corner of blogland is because I’m enjoying my job so much. The vast majority of my early posts were fuelled by the hatred that my previous employer engendered in me. I’m also extremely busy, with new candidates coming along all the time. The adult education system is strange because it isn’t totally governed by the normal term times; people join, learn and leave on a rolling year. Anyway, I digress, it seems that my unhappy moods and strange working hours lent itself to blogging, and now my life is more regimented with regular working hours and good nights sleep, I have nothing to say.

It’s also strange how internet habits change and evolve. I have recently found a really good chess server and I’m totally addicted. I play people from all over the world; I play in tournaments and fast games. I still can’t beat the taxdodger; he’s been beating me regularly since he was about 13. At the moment though, I’ve won more than I’ve lost and I’m building up a really good rating. Come along for a game if you fancy a battle of wills with a Russian or a Brazilian, or even me.

I have got a bit of a rant in my head about Kenny Rogers, I don’t know what it is about him I don’t like, but I’m sure that committing it to blog will make me feel better.

2006-12-05T22:46:00.000Z

Serious white goods failure.

Last night as I was tidying the kitchen the fridge door fell off. It had the common decency not to hurt me, but it made a right fucking clatter. I thought we had got off quite lightly, obviously apart from needing to go out and spend £400 on a new one. The only casualty being half a dozen eggs, but then, as if in slow motion, the lid of the nam pla fell off, and the fishy contents fucked off under the cooker. I quite like a splash of fish sauce in my stir fry, but the smell of a full bottle spread over about a square foot is fucking awful. In an attempt to neutralise the foul aroma, bleach was applied. Big fucking mistake. The resultant stench was far worse, I’m not going to go into what it resembled you’ll have to use your imagination.

2006-12-03T20:53:00.000Z

The beautiful game.

No, not football. Chess. A game of pure thought and logic, but also of creativity and imagination. The ultimate test of mind against mind. If you fancy pitting your wits against mine, then go here and join. Then challenge bluetealeaf.

I've just had a listen to Tom Waits' new album, it's three discs of absolute genius. Orphans, brawlers, bawlers and bastards. Go out and buy it today.

2006-11-25T21:47:00.000Z

Just thought I'd drop by....

Hope everyone is ok, just popped in to dust and hoover around the place, there's a few cobwebs and a bit of a funny smell.

Anyway, see you later.

2006-10-14T10:07:00.000+01:00

Hung-over and grumpy.

Through blurry eyes I sat and watched the news this morning.

The main story was about a “hard hitting” new ad campaign to combat binge drinking. Now I might be being a bit thick here, but wont binge drinkers miss the adverts because they’re at the pub ? Why does our government see fit to try and control every waking moment of our lives ? You have two options, either lump booze in with other harmful drugs and ban it, or legalise everything and let us all make informed choices.

Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t nuclear warheads weapons of mass destruction ? This puzzles me because we invaded Iraq just in case they some of these, it turns out they didn’t but our efforts in the middle east have made it such a wonderful place to live and bring up your kids. I wonder why we haven’t given North Korea the benefit of out lifestyle makeover ? They have admitted having tested nuclear weapons, and all the evidence suggests they actually did. They are also communist; this must tick every box on the US “reasons to kick a country’s ass” list. Maybe George hasn’t seen the news in a couple of weeks, maybe he’s away playing golf. As soon as he gets back I’m sure all those brave GIs will be making their way over, followed by our boys. Pretty soon there’ll be peace and prosperity in whichever part of the world North Korea is in. It’s just thought, but maybe the US and the UK and the UN are shit scared of old Kim and his big tooled up army. Anyway, they’re closer to China, they should sort them out, we’ll do our bit. No more exports for you Kim old boy. That’ll learn him.

I see some environmental groups are telling us we should stop flying on holiday, and we should maybe stay at home. If these people would just come out and say what they mean I would respect them more. What they really mean is: “I don’t want poor people sunning themselves around the same pool as me just because some cheap airline will ferry them to Mexico for £99”. When I’m lying on a beach somewhere and little Skyler and his seven siblings are running round uncontrolled by their feckless parents, I have the same thoughts. I don’t dress it up as an environmental hazard, I admit to being a grumpy snob. If you really want to combat global warming by reducing emisions, get on the phone to China and ask them very nicely to stop pumping millions of tonnes of CO2 into the atmosphere with their outmoded industrial techniques. Then we can all fuck off on our holidays and shout at chavs.

2006-10-14T00:34:00.000+01:00

This week.

Talk talk have pissed me off. eBay has pissed me off; Ray Winstone has really pissed me off. The list grows by the day. But by far the biggest twat of the week is Kenny Rogers, his song (if you can call it that) “the last 10 years” is truly awful, even for country music standards this travesty is far too sentimental, my car radio was rendered inoperable due to huge amounts of sickly sweet gunge flowing from every hole. I really hope you never hear this shite, but if you do, and you accidentally hear it right through to the end like I did…. (morbid fascination) and you hear the last line; don’t say I didn’t warn you.

2006-10-08T22:31:00.000+01:00

Weekend wonderings.

I wasn’t really arsed about the new Robin Hood, I have very clear memories of the 80s version with Ray Winstone (more on him later) and I thought it had a lot to live up to. So when it came on I just watched with an open mind. It’s perhaps as well it was open, what a pile of crap. The first woman on screen was plastered in make up and actually had eye make up on. The we get to Robin; he just looked like 15 year old chav. I suppose he may have looked like that, no doubt he would have been dirty and probably quite young…. I don’t know, maybe I’m just getting old and grumpy, I don’t want to see old geezers in green tights but come on, a little realism would be nice. As for the sheriff, Keith Alan may as well have been dressed like widow Twanky. I kept thinking someone was going to shout “he’s behind you”. And why did it keep jumping from spring to autumn ? Finally, why was Guy of Gisburn trying to be Sean Bean ? All these and more questions probably wont be answered in the next episode of ……

Now to the dire shite that preceded Robin Hood. England failed dismally to break down a well drilled Macedonia side. That’s the overview, what really happened was a bunch of over paid tossers who couldn’t give a flying fuck, turned out thinking they were going to roll right over poor little Macedonia. It’s about time our national coach started to select player based on their form rather than whether they are part of the old boys club.

Ray Winstone. Another one of our better acting talents has finally succumbed to the lure of the advertisers wad. He’s whoring himself on some crappy breakfast serial advert. What a fucking come down. Do these people honestly think they can be taken seriously after hawking stuff they never use to people who don’t really need it ? I’m with Bill Hicks on these matters…..

“You are Satan's spawn filling the world with bile and garbage. You are fucked and you are fucking us. Kill yourself. It's the only way to save your fucking soul, kill yourself. I know all the marketing people are going, "he's doing a joke... there's no joke here whatsoever. Suck a tail-pipe, fucking hang yourself, borrow a gun from a Yank friend - I don't care how you do it. Rid the world of your evil fucking machinations”

Couldn’t have put it better. Ray ? You listenin’ ? Ray ?

2006-10-01T22:22:00.000+01:00

Timeshares and super heroes.

We went on the timeshare trip for several reasons, firstly they were giving away 50 euros and a bottle of champagne, but we also went so Tracy could get an insight into the psychology of selling something you don’t need to people who don’t want it. I suppose if you could isolate the one way of doing that you would be a millionaire several times over.

This was no ordinary timeshare, it was The Hilton holiday club, they plied us with food and drink and were very nice people. The guy that took us round was called Lionel, he was at least 6 foot 7 and an ex pro basketball player (surprised eh ?) After we had watched the really cheesy American video of families that had already spent their hard-earned on the holiday club, saying it was the best money they’d ever spent, we went to meet the sales man, the one who would eventually tell us how much it would cost us to join this exclusive club.

All things considered it wasn’t really that expensive, but that’s not what we were there for. We did explain to Lionel the real reason we were there, he was ok with it. Even after we had turned down their offer they carried on chatting and being pleasant, finally arranging for a car to take us back to the villa. If you have £11k spare and fancy a guaranteed holiday anywhere in the world for the next 35 years, I would nip across to Villamoura and speak to Lionel and his mates, they’ll sort you out.

Batman. I fucking hate super hero films. I especially hate batman films. They are, collectively, the biggest pile of wank to come out of Hollywood for many a year. It was with a sigh that I sat and watched batman begins on Saturday night, a couple of mates had raved about it, the Taxdodger had also said it was good, so I gave it a go. I grudgingly accept that it’s not bad, that’s the best I can do when in the past I have had to sit through such shite as Superman, Spiderman, the fucking X men and that purple faced twat the Phantom. Christian Bale still hasn’t redeemed himself from Reign of fire, and on balance he would probably have to win three consecutive Oscars to atone for that sack of monkey shit. My only hope is that the next film is called “Batman ends”.

2006-09-16T19:51:00.000+01:00

Booked it, packed it, fucked off.

A week after getting back from Portugal, and after letting it all sink in, I can write about it without the nice warm glow of post holiday happiness.

Of course, before the holiday even started we had the worry and uncertainty of going through our own airport security. In the end we had nothing to worry about, it was very quick and painless, apart from having to remove your* shoes to go through the metal detector.

Faro airport is one of the better foreign airports I have queued in, but then it was in at the deep end with our hire car. It was the first time I had driven on the wrong side of the road legally. Thirty five minutes later we were at our villa. What I like about Portuguese drivers is that they drive quite slowly and a very patient with holiday makers in crappy little hire cars. We called ours Ronaldo; I’ll let you work out why.

Because we booked very late we ended with one of those “oh my god” moments when we got to the villa. I expected a one bedroom hovel in a big complex, sharing a pool with a thousand micturating children. What we got was a four bedroom mansion with its own pool amid a beautifully landscaped garden, with a fantastic view of one of the many golf courses. Fully equipped, beautifully decorated and a welcome food pack waiting for us. What a start !

Unfortunately that’s about it. Don’t get me wrong, the place was lovely, the weather was superb and we had a great time. Yeah there’s a but. We had a great time because we really enjoy being together. We could have done the things we did in Portugal at home. There was nothing about the place that has made me miss it. When I look back at previous trips I can think… “Remember standing in front of the Sphinx ?” or “how fantastic was it when we swam with Dolphins ?” In Portugal it was “That Monkfish was nice”

We had some nice nights out, especially around the marina at Villamoura and an interesting morning at a time-share place (more on that later). I suppose it was a good chilling out holiday and maybe I was expecting too much.

I have some good pics but at the moment I can’t get them online. I need some server space somewhere out there in cyberspace. I’m working on getting one of my own, or funding the Taxdodger to get his sorted. Either way it may be a while.

* I know it should be "one's shoes" but I can't bring myself to write it. I would never say it so I don't know why it bothers me so much. Must be my age.