It's been a while since I posted any of my usual hilarity-filed hate blogs, or hate-filled hilarious blogs for that matter. The simple truth is that while there's been plenty of things annoying me or worthy of writing about, they're often a bit flimsy to justify a whole blog. Move forward a few days and I've got loads of the mothers, so I'll stick them in one handy bilefest.
The easiest job in the world
It has come to my attention lately that there are some lollipop ladies who ply their trade at traffic lights. How easy is that? You don't even need a lolly - you just press the button when they get there (hardly a skill) and let the kids cross. The only slight bit of expertise I can think of is being able to time it so the kids arrive at the crossing just as the lights change. That said, it's still the easiest job ever. Lazy gets.
Winehouse
She's proper blown it, or so you'd think. A couple of highly-publicised piles or arse masquerading as concerts have seen her stock sink significantly, to the extent that she's cancelled all other engagements until the new year. Thinking she'd get her comeuppance, I was staggered to see the amount of support she's been offered since she packed it in. How's that happened? Her husband's in jail - boo hoo, that's his fault, and she's hardly the only prison widow in the world is she? It seems she gets wasted on all manner of high-class narcotics, fails to handle it, packs in her job and gets support. If a footballer or a politician did that, or for that matter anybody in the music world who wasn't deemed 'cool', they would be hammered to pieces by the press. Don't even get me started on them..
Racist teddy
As if a middle-aged woman from Liverpool would know enough about Sudanese culture to know that naming a teddy 'Mohammed' would be deemed religiously libellous. Nobody is having a go at the kids for picking it, nor the parents of the kid who's name was used. It seems the Sudanese government (who are famed for their ethnic cleansing caper) are using this as a stick to beat the UK with. Of course we're concerned about her well-being, but surely they know the kind of military punch we pack, not to mention the allies we have. In a few days they'll give her back and expect praise for being so reasonable. Yeah, putting her in the slammer for naming a teddy Mo was well reasonable. And 40 lashes? Jeez Louise...
It's (not) Christmas
Is it me, or does everybody seem in a right rush to get to Christmas this year? This year more than any other I've noticed or heard of trees going up already. When I saw mince pies in late September I expected that to be the exception, but everyone seems to be setting up shop early this year. Conversely, aside from the usual Coca-Cola dross and a few Dixons ads, the media doesn't seem to have got going yet. Maybe the keenness of the masses is making them look slow. Of course the shops don't need a second invitation; I heard Christmas songs on Remembrance Sunday in Next. Says all you need to know about society don't it?
Obvious loophole?
I really can't be arsed getting into this whole 'secret payments' lark with the government. Who really cares whether someone gives brass to a mate and says "Use it how you like, but it would be ace if you gave it to the Labour Party". So what if they did? It hardly matters does it. If the bloke wanted to keep his anonymity, that's up to him. It's just giving the Tories another stick to belt Gordie B with. Anyway, my point is this; if donations of £5000 or more have to be declared, why didn't he just write loads of cheques for £4,999?
Wednesday, 28 November 2007
Monday, 19 November 2007
Stuff what's cack
Right, paying tribute to sadly passed landlords is a worthy use of this blog, but we both know that's not why I'm doing this. I'm here to teach you oiks about what's rubbish in this world. Such as:
1) Highschool Musical. The worst idea for a programme in the history of mankind. I know two men in their late 20's who absolutely love this programme, which asks more questions than it answers. Pointless drivel.
2) Personalised spare wheel covers on 4x4's which depict the owners dog. Shite.
3) Every ringtone that's ever been made. Ever. It seems every new song that comes out has a ringtone to go with it, regardless of whether it actually sounds owt like the song. My dislike of R 'n' B doesn't need further airing here, but the fact that all you see advertised on these tin-pot music channels is more guns and ho's claptrap in ringtone form just exacerbates things.
4) The British press. Especially the right-wing barely-concealed racist hate spreading ones. If they had their way we'd all be indoors cowering under the illusion that immigrants are eating our babies. The fact that a decent proportion of the population swallow this cobblers fills me with genuine fear for the future.
5) All reality TV. When that Driving School was on about 10 years ago who'd have thought that the plethora of cack that has made it onto TV would happen? It's a little-known fact that 45% of all TV programmes now have the word 'Celebrity' somewhere in their title. Possibly. Either way it's saturation on a ridiculous scale. Think up some proper ideas for programmes you gimps.
All the best. Don't forget to send your Christmas cards.
1) Highschool Musical. The worst idea for a programme in the history of mankind. I know two men in their late 20's who absolutely love this programme, which asks more questions than it answers. Pointless drivel.
2) Personalised spare wheel covers on 4x4's which depict the owners dog. Shite.
3) Every ringtone that's ever been made. Ever. It seems every new song that comes out has a ringtone to go with it, regardless of whether it actually sounds owt like the song. My dislike of R 'n' B doesn't need further airing here, but the fact that all you see advertised on these tin-pot music channels is more guns and ho's claptrap in ringtone form just exacerbates things.
4) The British press. Especially the right-wing barely-concealed racist hate spreading ones. If they had their way we'd all be indoors cowering under the illusion that immigrants are eating our babies. The fact that a decent proportion of the population swallow this cobblers fills me with genuine fear for the future.
5) All reality TV. When that Driving School was on about 10 years ago who'd have thought that the plethora of cack that has made it onto TV would happen? It's a little-known fact that 45% of all TV programmes now have the word 'Celebrity' somewhere in their title. Possibly. Either way it's saturation on a ridiculous scale. Think up some proper ideas for programmes you gimps.
All the best. Don't forget to send your Christmas cards.
Wednesday, 14 November 2007
Tribute to a legend
Today I’m going to break tradition and write a blog that every single reader (all 2 of you) will agree with from top to bottom. It won’t be controversial or aggressive or funny for the sake of it. It makes me feel dirty just writing like this.
No, today I’m paying tribute to a legend. I found out earlier this week that Mark “Larry Landlord” Heron from our local pub was killed in a motorbike crash earlier this year. Having not frequented the pub for some time the news came as a bolt from the blue. This is my small tribute to the man with the 70’s laugh.
I’m not going to pretend I was a friend or that I knew him inside out, but in the (numerous) late nights we spent at his bar we became very friendly with him and found him to be a warm, funny man. He had a laugh you could plane a doorframe with, and he never had a smile off his face. Many is the time that he would say “I’ve got a joke” and you’d have to get the calendar out to work out when you were likely to be able to return to work, such was the length and intricacy of even the simplest joke. The punchline “And two were brown” will forever be with me, but I’m buggered if I can remember any of the joke.
He and his wife Judy kept the pub as family-orientated as possible, which was quite an achievement given the amount of specialists who frequented it. We were always made to feel welcome, and despite being outsiders were never treated as such by them.
Perhaps his finest moment came when a friend of mine (you know who you are) had recently been in Scotland, and as a result had a pocketful of Jock notes. He bought a round and handed over a twenty. Larry took one look at it before ripping it up and throwing it on the floor. My mate squealed like a girl at the sight, only to be greeted by Larry’s enormous laugh seconds later as he stuck it back together and put it in the till. To this day that’s the greatest practical joke I’ve ever seen played – simple but perfectly executed.
His wake was unsurprisingly heavily attended, and I’m a little sad that I didn’t go (I obviously had no idea). I bet it was a proper shindig worthy of him. His wife and daughter have subsequently sold the pubs and moved away, and I don’t blame them. For a man as well known in the village, there must have been reminders of him everywhere.
In conclusion I can say only this: He was a Leeds fan, yet I liked him. God rest you Larry.
No, today I’m paying tribute to a legend. I found out earlier this week that Mark “Larry Landlord” Heron from our local pub was killed in a motorbike crash earlier this year. Having not frequented the pub for some time the news came as a bolt from the blue. This is my small tribute to the man with the 70’s laugh.
I’m not going to pretend I was a friend or that I knew him inside out, but in the (numerous) late nights we spent at his bar we became very friendly with him and found him to be a warm, funny man. He had a laugh you could plane a doorframe with, and he never had a smile off his face. Many is the time that he would say “I’ve got a joke” and you’d have to get the calendar out to work out when you were likely to be able to return to work, such was the length and intricacy of even the simplest joke. The punchline “And two were brown” will forever be with me, but I’m buggered if I can remember any of the joke.
He and his wife Judy kept the pub as family-orientated as possible, which was quite an achievement given the amount of specialists who frequented it. We were always made to feel welcome, and despite being outsiders were never treated as such by them.
Perhaps his finest moment came when a friend of mine (you know who you are) had recently been in Scotland, and as a result had a pocketful of Jock notes. He bought a round and handed over a twenty. Larry took one look at it before ripping it up and throwing it on the floor. My mate squealed like a girl at the sight, only to be greeted by Larry’s enormous laugh seconds later as he stuck it back together and put it in the till. To this day that’s the greatest practical joke I’ve ever seen played – simple but perfectly executed.
His wake was unsurprisingly heavily attended, and I’m a little sad that I didn’t go (I obviously had no idea). I bet it was a proper shindig worthy of him. His wife and daughter have subsequently sold the pubs and moved away, and I don’t blame them. For a man as well known in the village, there must have been reminders of him everywhere.
In conclusion I can say only this: He was a Leeds fan, yet I liked him. God rest you Larry.
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