I consider myself a genial kind of guy. Apart from a reasonably high-profile falling out with a friend of a friend recently, my record for getting on with people is practically blemish-free. In addition, I tend to find that I get on with people from all walks of life very quickly, and often find myself talking about all manner of personal and unusual subjects with people I’ve only known a few minutes.
However, it also appears that I have the kind of face and/or personality which says to people “This guy clearly loves to hear lots of incredibly aggressive swear words shortly after meeting someone, so let’s say some. Immediately”
You’ll be surprised to learn that bad language doesn’t exactly upset me. I’m not the most frequent exponent of its use in my group of friends, but I’m all for a bit of ‘industrial’ language to get my point across rather than that flowery nonsense most people go for. Indeed, if I could guarantee that such prose wouldn’t upset readers, I would in all likelihood sprinkle massively inappropriate words throughout my blogs, simply because I can. However, given that I can’t guarantee non-friends won’t read this, I have to keep it clean and ultimately avoid any potential legal wranglings.
The reason I mention this skill of drawing bad language out of people came about after a recent trip to Dublin. To and from the airport I unsurprisingly used local taxi drivers. Both were chirpy salt-of-the-earth types who had opinions on everything from traffic police to the state of the economy. I was happy to join in with my opinions and thoughts on many subjects, but out of respect and a lack of knowledge of the drivers’ tolerances to swearing, kept it clean.
The same cannot be said of the drivers.
Bear in mind I was in the company of both drivers for less that 20 minutes combined, yet I heard 30-plus f-words, multiple ‘bastards’ and even a couple of the ‘bad’ swear word. You know, the one that starts with ‘c’ and isn’t ‘cock’ or ‘compass’. Yeah, that one.
Now, like I said, such language doesn’t bother me (in fact, given the Irish accent, the word ‘cont’ actually made me laugh, which may or may not be racist), but surely these guys must come into contact with people from all parts of the social spectrum on a daily basis, so liberal use of the c-bomb shouldn’t be encouraged? Assuming these guys are aware of the fact they’re being paid for their driving service, they have to be very careful not to offend people and jeopardise their pay day. I can therefore only assume that within a few seconds of meeting me, people think “This guy clearly likes a bit of blue language. It would be rude to disappoint”. Either that or such language is as clean as the proverbial baby’s bottom in Ireland, so it isn’t deemed offensive to lob it into every other sentence.
I’m still not sure if I’m proud or not. I probably am though.
Monday 18 May 2009
Thursday 14 May 2009
£150 for a glass dildo?!
Let’s have a quick show of hands; who actually, genuinely cares about the expenses ‘scandal’ currently engulfing anyone who’s ever set foot inside Westminster?
If you do, then kudos to you for having the time and inclination to get worked up about something that literally has no effect on us. We don’t have to pay any extra for their claims, so it doesn’t matter one iota what they get up to.
Don’t get me wrong, I think they’re taking the piss. £100 to get some blokes to change a few light bulbs or having the audacity to claim for the repair of a pipe under your tennis court is OTT in anyone’s book. The expenses system was implemented because it was deemed bad form to be giving MP’s pay rises, so they give them a basic wage and let them claim for other, legitimate expenses that occur in their normal political business. I didn’t realise tennis featured so highly on their political agenda.
When I accrue expenditure as part of my job, I claim it back as any normal person would. However, I only claim for the food/fuel/prostitutes I’ve used carrying out the work. You won’t see car washes or a round of tequilas at Hooters mentioned on the form, because it had nothing to do with it. To me that’s the point; if it emerged that an MP had claimed shitloads, but they countered with a pile of receipts that explained every penny spent was for their job, you’d hold your hands up and say ‘fair enough, guv’. Quite why you’d say that, I’m not sure, but you get my point.
The thing is, anybody put in the same position would do exactly the same thing. I would; I don’t because I know I can’t get away with it. It’s not actually against the rules for them to claim for all the guff they do end up claiming for, so there’s not really a scandal after all. They’re just a shower of greedy bastards manipulating a pathetically-governed scheme.
As you would imagine, the leaders have been falling over themselves to apologise and promise change (and my favourite – order an independent review) but the simple fact is anything they do is a direct result of being caught. If somebody had come out a few months ago and said that they thought it was a bid naughty to claim for a housemaid and they were going to sort it out now, fair play to them. In the event, The Telegraph has pulled everyone’s pants down and the public have been treated to the display of general-election-later-this-year panic from anyone with ‘MP’ in their name. Like I said earlier, it has cost us nothing more than we would already have paid, so I’m quite enjoying the playground level one-upmanship being served up by Brown and Cameron as they each pretend they thought of sorting this out first. If they just said “you know what – fair’s fair. We’ve been taking the piss for yonks now, but it’s about time we knocked it on the head” at least we’d think there was an element of humility within them. But they didn’t, and we don’t.
Right, the company’s paying – who wants an Castlemaine XXXX?
If you do, then kudos to you for having the time and inclination to get worked up about something that literally has no effect on us. We don’t have to pay any extra for their claims, so it doesn’t matter one iota what they get up to.
Don’t get me wrong, I think they’re taking the piss. £100 to get some blokes to change a few light bulbs or having the audacity to claim for the repair of a pipe under your tennis court is OTT in anyone’s book. The expenses system was implemented because it was deemed bad form to be giving MP’s pay rises, so they give them a basic wage and let them claim for other, legitimate expenses that occur in their normal political business. I didn’t realise tennis featured so highly on their political agenda.
When I accrue expenditure as part of my job, I claim it back as any normal person would. However, I only claim for the food/fuel/prostitutes I’ve used carrying out the work. You won’t see car washes or a round of tequilas at Hooters mentioned on the form, because it had nothing to do with it. To me that’s the point; if it emerged that an MP had claimed shitloads, but they countered with a pile of receipts that explained every penny spent was for their job, you’d hold your hands up and say ‘fair enough, guv’. Quite why you’d say that, I’m not sure, but you get my point.
The thing is, anybody put in the same position would do exactly the same thing. I would; I don’t because I know I can’t get away with it. It’s not actually against the rules for them to claim for all the guff they do end up claiming for, so there’s not really a scandal after all. They’re just a shower of greedy bastards manipulating a pathetically-governed scheme.
As you would imagine, the leaders have been falling over themselves to apologise and promise change (and my favourite – order an independent review) but the simple fact is anything they do is a direct result of being caught. If somebody had come out a few months ago and said that they thought it was a bid naughty to claim for a housemaid and they were going to sort it out now, fair play to them. In the event, The Telegraph has pulled everyone’s pants down and the public have been treated to the display of general-election-later-this-year panic from anyone with ‘MP’ in their name. Like I said earlier, it has cost us nothing more than we would already have paid, so I’m quite enjoying the playground level one-upmanship being served up by Brown and Cameron as they each pretend they thought of sorting this out first. If they just said “you know what – fair’s fair. We’ve been taking the piss for yonks now, but it’s about time we knocked it on the head” at least we’d think there was an element of humility within them. But they didn’t, and we don’t.
Right, the company’s paying – who wants an Castlemaine XXXX?
A tale of 4 tits
Many moons ago, when I still held onto the thought that people actually read this, I wrote about the pending divorce of him from The Ordinary Boys and her off Big Brother. You know, the blonde one who reckoned she was like Paris Hilton. Got her cans out in a swimming pool. Yeah, that’s her.
Anyway, that blog was notable for 2 reasons; I was poking well-thought out fun at another celebrity-driven defamation of the sanctity of marriage, but more importantly because I used the c-word uncensored for the first time online. I felt that strongly about it at the time, as I surmised that it was nothing more than a cheap publicity stunt to keep them in the public eye, and they would be back together quicker than you could say “centre-spread”.
Alas, I were wrong.
I recall my younger, swearier self here because this week, the nation’s favourite celebrity chavs, Andre and Price, have decided time’s time and are to divorce after 4-and-a-half years or wedded bliss.
Perhaps blunted by the sheer volume of stories of this ilk you read these days, I find myself more amused than angry. I think a lot of that has to do with the simple fact that they’re both massively cretinous and unlikely to be taken seriously apart from by those orange lasses who wear pink tracksuits and furry boots. The right-thinking of this nation ceased to give a shite – shiny or otherwise – about these two ages ago.
Now, I don’t begrudge them a minute of their fame or a penny of their fortune. It is widely noted that Price is a businesswoman of some repute; cashing in on the ‘Jordan’ persona to feather her nest. The way she’s brought up her lad is an inspiration to parents in the same situation as well. And let’s face it, not many red-blooded males would have passed up the chance for half an hour in her pre-silicone company, surely? Either way, she’s a bit of a dick, but she’s harmless and if people want to read about her, why shouldn’t she make as much brass out of it as she can? I know I would. Compare and contrast to Captain CarCrash herself, Jodie Marsh. Same sort of idea to Jordan, but now looks like Pete Burns and has the bedroom morals of a French whore. Well played there.
Andre on the other hand is a different kettle of shrimp. Reasonably popular in his pomp, he used “I’m a celebrity” the same way the other Timmy Malletts of this world do; to get their mug on telly when people think they’re dead. The only difference here was that he bagged himself a glamour model at the same time, and if memory serves me correctly, he re-released “Mysterious Girl” into the bargain. A good era for Great Britain, I’m sure you’ll agree.
I never doubted for a minute that it wouldn’t go tits-skywards from the word go. Given the way they lived their lives through the pages of ‘glossy’ magazines, it’s clear their agenda is far from being man and wife. The genuine tragedy is the poor kids stuck in this. They’ve had 2 together I believe who don’t need this, and poor Harvey’s got enough on his plate without being the victim of a broken home.
As you would expect, they’ve managed to overshadow this entire sorry charade with a beautiful piece of comedy. Having spent their entire married life in the public eye, with more programmes about them that there is about property, one of the first lines of their divorce statement read thus:
“We would appreciate it if the press left us alone during this difficult time”
For once, words fail me.
Anyway, that blog was notable for 2 reasons; I was poking well-thought out fun at another celebrity-driven defamation of the sanctity of marriage, but more importantly because I used the c-word uncensored for the first time online. I felt that strongly about it at the time, as I surmised that it was nothing more than a cheap publicity stunt to keep them in the public eye, and they would be back together quicker than you could say “centre-spread”.
Alas, I were wrong.
I recall my younger, swearier self here because this week, the nation’s favourite celebrity chavs, Andre and Price, have decided time’s time and are to divorce after 4-and-a-half years or wedded bliss.
Perhaps blunted by the sheer volume of stories of this ilk you read these days, I find myself more amused than angry. I think a lot of that has to do with the simple fact that they’re both massively cretinous and unlikely to be taken seriously apart from by those orange lasses who wear pink tracksuits and furry boots. The right-thinking of this nation ceased to give a shite – shiny or otherwise – about these two ages ago.
Now, I don’t begrudge them a minute of their fame or a penny of their fortune. It is widely noted that Price is a businesswoman of some repute; cashing in on the ‘Jordan’ persona to feather her nest. The way she’s brought up her lad is an inspiration to parents in the same situation as well. And let’s face it, not many red-blooded males would have passed up the chance for half an hour in her pre-silicone company, surely? Either way, she’s a bit of a dick, but she’s harmless and if people want to read about her, why shouldn’t she make as much brass out of it as she can? I know I would. Compare and contrast to Captain CarCrash herself, Jodie Marsh. Same sort of idea to Jordan, but now looks like Pete Burns and has the bedroom morals of a French whore. Well played there.
Andre on the other hand is a different kettle of shrimp. Reasonably popular in his pomp, he used “I’m a celebrity” the same way the other Timmy Malletts of this world do; to get their mug on telly when people think they’re dead. The only difference here was that he bagged himself a glamour model at the same time, and if memory serves me correctly, he re-released “Mysterious Girl” into the bargain. A good era for Great Britain, I’m sure you’ll agree.
I never doubted for a minute that it wouldn’t go tits-skywards from the word go. Given the way they lived their lives through the pages of ‘glossy’ magazines, it’s clear their agenda is far from being man and wife. The genuine tragedy is the poor kids stuck in this. They’ve had 2 together I believe who don’t need this, and poor Harvey’s got enough on his plate without being the victim of a broken home.
As you would expect, they’ve managed to overshadow this entire sorry charade with a beautiful piece of comedy. Having spent their entire married life in the public eye, with more programmes about them that there is about property, one of the first lines of their divorce statement read thus:
“We would appreciate it if the press left us alone during this difficult time”
For once, words fail me.
Wednesday 6 May 2009
Forgive me Jebus for I have sinned...
God bless Karen Matthews. Where would we be without her?
For a kick-off, she makes every parent in the country look like some kind of SuperMum or Dad, given her vomit-inducing attempt to blag money from well-wishers by conspiring to kidnap, sedate and tether her own daughter for an extended length of time in a relative's house. If there's a worse act that doesn't involve killing or interefering with a child, I don't want to know about it.
Lest we forget the service she provided to her special boyfriend Craig "I dunno, officer - the PC was like that when I bought it" Meehan. Let's face it, he's not exactly dealing from the top of the deck looks- or brains-wise, so the fact that Matthews was prepared to have carnal knowledge of him, let alone tolerate his dinner-plate glasses gawping at her all day is a cause for credit in anyone's book.
She's trumped the lot this week though, with an article in the press giving the nation a chance to catch up with its favourite dole scum, where she puts herself across as a humble, apologetic reformed character, trying to repair the emotional damage she's done to her daughter, whilst convincing the public that she's a changed woman. Read her testimony; it details how she came to terms with her own actions and vowed not to rest until she's proven that she's turned over a new leaf, and gets her children back where they rightfully belong - with their loving mother.
She also talks of finding religion, and how The Good Book has taught her more about herself than she ever thought possible. She reveals how since finding God, she's cleansed her soul, cleaned up her act and realised the sheer debt she owes to her family and to herself. "With the Lord's guidance", she said, "I WILL become a better person"
Not really - this is what she actually said:
"It wasn't me guv - it were a fit up"
and
"The things I miss most in jail are sex and shopping"
What a prick.
For a kick-off, she makes every parent in the country look like some kind of SuperMum or Dad, given her vomit-inducing attempt to blag money from well-wishers by conspiring to kidnap, sedate and tether her own daughter for an extended length of time in a relative's house. If there's a worse act that doesn't involve killing or interefering with a child, I don't want to know about it.
Lest we forget the service she provided to her special boyfriend Craig "I dunno, officer - the PC was like that when I bought it" Meehan. Let's face it, he's not exactly dealing from the top of the deck looks- or brains-wise, so the fact that Matthews was prepared to have carnal knowledge of him, let alone tolerate his dinner-plate glasses gawping at her all day is a cause for credit in anyone's book.
She's trumped the lot this week though, with an article in the press giving the nation a chance to catch up with its favourite dole scum, where she puts herself across as a humble, apologetic reformed character, trying to repair the emotional damage she's done to her daughter, whilst convincing the public that she's a changed woman. Read her testimony; it details how she came to terms with her own actions and vowed not to rest until she's proven that she's turned over a new leaf, and gets her children back where they rightfully belong - with their loving mother.
She also talks of finding religion, and how The Good Book has taught her more about herself than she ever thought possible. She reveals how since finding God, she's cleansed her soul, cleaned up her act and realised the sheer debt she owes to her family and to herself. "With the Lord's guidance", she said, "I WILL become a better person"
Not really - this is what she actually said:
"It wasn't me guv - it were a fit up"
and
"The things I miss most in jail are sex and shopping"
What a prick.
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