27 Jun 2014

Life grates but life's great.

"Take a jumbo across the water
Like to see America
See the girls in California
I'm hoping it's going to come true
But there's not a lot I can do"

Well it's on a hiatus for the moment. But this world cup is turning out to be fantastic.... unless you are Spain or England.  Yards better than the last dull affair in South Africa and with less annoying Vuvuzela too.  I am glad to say that my (Adopted) team, Brazil, are still in as I write.  Here's to the next couple of weeks of footy being as good if not better.  I'm predicting either Brazil, Germany or Holland to be in the last few deciding games although it's been quite hard to predict this time.  Just the way I like it.

I posted the above heading ass I heard it on an old edition of Top of the  Pops that my Tivo recorded from 1979, which are currently being shown on BBC 4HD.  It reminded me of the strange dream I had about, of all people, Hannah Hart.  The only bit I remember is the tastefully naked 'American Beauty' bit, which is odd as she is a lesbian ....and I'm a male Lesbian... so I suppose it evens out.   I like her videos for the terrible puns and the fact that she is always positive but, not in an annoying way that you get sometimes with media personalities.  My main bug about that at the moment is Zooey Deschanel who constantly posts things about feeling positive and 'accept body your image' even if you are all lumpy like (I paraphrase).  I have no bones about being positive and all but try being all fluffy kittens and puppies when you have to deal with the DWP who berate you for not using their website to find work.  Even though you do and the website redirects you to umpteen other agencies anyway.  Now, I apply for several jobs a week and go on the site daily but the woman said they'd stop my money if they considered that I wasn't looking for work.  To which my reply was "What, they'll fucking stop it twice in one go?  they'll double stop my money?"  To which she tapped on her windows 95 computer, humphed and said nothing.

I'd like to remain positive but then I'm not a gorgeous actress/singer/songwriter with a bank account that has commas in the total column.  Whereas I am a somewhat lumpy middle aged grumpy bastard slowly realising that life hasn't finished kicking me in the face until I sell all my belongings on ebay.  It will probably continue to do so for a while too.

But I don't want you to think that I'm a negative person, I'm not.... not really, despite what some dumb ass former manager may think.  I am a realist, but I live for the small islands and archipelagos of happiness in the vast Pacific ocean of life.  Like, for example, when I was knee deep in swamp water whilst in the Army.   We had spent all day digging this fire trench through thick orange clay only to have the roof canopy collapse thanks to the mouthy Mancunian in our detachment.  There we were with thick clay clinging to my, by the morning, orange combat uniform with the freezing November rain pouring down my neck and even at three in the morning trying to clean my L1A1 FN Fal  firearm in the dark I knew that nothing bad lasts for ever.

So this is what keeps me going.  It's not negative, it's not exactly positive I'll grant you but to go through life with an attitude that 'nothing bad lasts for ever' is better than having the unrealistic attitude that life is all candy, fireworks and puppies if you just think positively.   Always expect the worst to happen that way you'll be happier when it doesn't and prepared when it does.

Is anyone there BTW?

13 Jun 2014

World cup fever

All the booze is free, airline going broke,
Here come the lady with another jack and coke,
Wanna watch the movie, can't sit still,
Flying down to Rio, going to Brazil,


It's here again the world cup or, if you are a gangsta, Da world cup yo.  But I am not so let's speak properly shall we?  For the first time ever I own a Brazil shirt, this will be an indication of their demise.  They will now do a Scotland and go out in the first round.  Although unlike Scotland they wouldn't have bought return tickets. How do I know this?  Simple I bought one Norwich shirt in my life and almost immediately they got relegated after a three year stretch in the premiership.

I heard Pele described by a journo the other day as immortal and after seeing him in an interview recently I can well imagine that he is, he looks exactly the same as he did in the 1970's.  Maybe I should go and live in Brazil?  Although having seen the size of the white knee tarantula in that Kate Humble documentary the other night, thank you HDTV, I'm not so sure.  I mean the angry monkeys, the people stealing your wallet and the unbearable heat I could cope with but a spider the size of a dinner plate? Nope.  I mean it's not like I'm going to crap myself at the sight of a house spider or anything but somethings should be small.  Still Kate Humble in swimwear soon took my mind off the gigantinormous arachnid.

I would like to bugger off to another country though, maybe even stay there.  I'm too old an lazy to learn a language now so I'm limited to Canada, Antipodes or the U.S of A.  I can't say that I'm enamoured with Britain at the moment after they stopped my rock and roll recently.  Although I do keep getting emails from Reed.co.uk who seemingly want me to apply for a job with M.I.6.  So disgruntled man with money troubles works for M.I.6.  Who am I Alec Leamas?  Now I don't wish my country or any of it's inhabitants ill.... with the exception of maybe oooh I dunno, Russel Brand, Robbie Williams, Andy Parsons or Wayne Rooney.  Incidentally Wayne Rooney in our house is known affectionately as The Rootard. But I digress, which as previous readers will no doubt remember is a female digre, if I were offered a way out of the U.K. I would take it.

But as I'm not likely to be whisked off to foreign shores by some brunette super model, sadly, I'll await the morning post for another email rejection letter.


9 Jun 2014

Rik's dead, the utter bastard.

Sad, sad news that Rik Mayall has died today.  Comedic genius I will miss his shouty characters.

Enjoy these clips of the man's work.


7 Jun 2014

"Guess who's back, back again?"

"I was dreaming when I wrote this,
Forgive me if it goes astray.
But when I woke up there this mornin',
Could've sworn it was judgement day.
The sky was all purple,
There were people running everywhere,
Tryin' to run from the destruction,
You know I didn't even care."

Arrrr mateys. It's been a while since I at posted to you.  But, to be honest I thought that everyone had abandoned blogging.  But here I am tapping away on a wireless keyboard whilst sat on my secondhand sofa and the pc connected to my 42" tv... ooh posh. 
The world cup is almost upon us again and at which point any older readers will know I switch my allegiances to  Brazil.  I say switch my allegiances but I never really follow England, never have really.  When I used to do the commentary to my own football playing we all did as kids, it was never " Emlyn Hughes, Paul Mariner, McDermot, Coppell, Keegan or Brooking. Showing my age there. It was always Socrates, Pele or Zico.  I've always been attracted to the far away and exotic.  Hence the reason I wore a New York Cosmos shirt for most of my P.E. Lessons, again a club with Pele in it not to mention Beckenbauer, Chinaglia etc. would be invoked as I strode past people like Podge, Gavin or Paul Howard on the school football pitch.  I suspect that most of my contemporaries were unaware, or at the very least, uncaring that there was even a league in the U.S.A.  Happy as they were in their Norwich, Ipswich, Liverpool or even Manchester United shirts.  Me?  I always tended to scour the World of Sport for the less well known sports like I did with my music.
I've been interested in watching England but my heart has always been with Brazil, the better football, the brightly coloured kit... the really attractive women in the crowd.  Coming as I did when the football crowd was predominantly males stood in the terraces you could see the attraction. Another reason would possibly be that I was growing up at the time of the casuals beating the shit out of each other on the terraces or often the pitch for no good reason other than they were mindless morons.
Maybe it all stems from the fact I've always wanted to escape to other parts of the world but somehow have never managed?  I don't know maybe a trick cyclist would be able to tell me? 
In other news the world is pissing me off lately, (when doesn't it?)  In particular the job I hated is thankfully a thing of the past.  They tried to sack me over things I said about the company in previous blogs, so much for freedom of speech in one of the world's oldest democracies. The company backtracked when I pointed out the posts all dated prior to the date at which my agreement was signed and therefore actions taken would be illegal and result in my winning an unfair dismissal tribunal.  So basically the manager kept pushing my buttons for 6 to 8 months until I finally gave my notice of six weeks.  Now after two months of giving me job seeker's allowance the DWP have decided that my reasons for leaving weren't good enough and have stopped the pittance.  Luckily I have a good, not great, zombie landlord who knows that he'll get his money back once I'm gainfully employed again.  Still, I really do want to escape now.  In my dreams I would win the lottery, pay my zombie landlord a lot of money, take a giant shit on the desk at the local job centre and fuck off to sunnier climes with my camera and telescope and settle down with Grace Helbig (I wish).
Failing that I would settle for a few great Brazil moments this world cup. 

7 May 2013

More dreaming on my behalf.

"It does one's heart good
I'm in a happy mood
There's something that I can't deny
I like to have you by my side
It might well be that we will see more of each other
We will see more of each other NOW" 

I'm in a fantastic mood just lately, no I don't have either Cameron Diaz or an Aston Martin in my life, but hey I'm on a week's holiday from work the sun is out and it's just gone pay day.  What's not to be happy about?  Later in the month I'm off to the smoke to see my favourite people and treat them in all of my favourite places in London or as many as I can fit into the one day.
Of course Hamley's will have to be frequented again despite the fact that the place gives me a headache and I nearly punched a store assistant there the last time for snatching something from my Nephew's hands.  The guy shouldn't have left it sitting on the shelf if it wasn't to be played with and I told him so mixed with some choice Anglo Saxon words which my Nephew didn't hear but probably knows anyway as he attends my old school.  I have to go to Camden Town, my Mecca thanks to Madness, and hopefully the kids will love all the stuff on the markets although the place isn't as good as it used to be.

I really need to get on with my creative stuff I've been meaning to do.  Instead I find myself sat on my sofa eating biscuits and playing several PS3 and Xbox games.  Been on a bit of a 007 James Bond kick at the moment.  I decided that watching all the movies in order from start to finish was a good idea.  All that has done is make me decide that I don't like the Roger Moore stuff  after  Live & Let Die, too slapstick.  Still I persevered and made it through to Bond #14 A View to a Kill, the last Bond I saw at the cinema. Thankfully I'm onto the Timothy Dalton films now then I get to reappraise Goldeneye. Speaking of which that's a game I've been addicted to along with Bloodstone and Quantum of Solace.  All three have entertained me and I was looking forwards to playing 007 Legends until I actually did.  For some reason and I can't be the only one to notice this when you pick up a new weapon you go all Zoolander and have the unfortunate affliction of not being able to turn left albeit for a few seconds.  In the meantime Goldfinger's minions take it upon themselves to give you high velocity lead poisoning.
Instead of all this I really should be working on my second or third story wot I ritted, depending on which story I am in the mood to write further.  I also have a great idea for a console game knocking around my head and have spent a small fortune on ebay getting period research material.  A couple of guys at work whom I get on with greatly and are doing a computer games course at Uni are going to collaborate on the project.  We can only try.  We think it's a quite interesting story and would hold a place in gaming that is overlooked.  As usual though it does have a large part of my humour and cynicism so if it ever does get published then expect it to be dark with a capital 'dar'.
I may even forget the game and make it a novel if I like it once I fill out the story a bit.  We shall see what we shall see, it may just transpire that I finish the self inflicted Bond season and eat more biscuits.  I need motivation I need a muse.... Cameron Diaz where are you when I need you?

10 Apr 2013


"I've never been closer
I've tried to understand
That certain feeling
Carved by another's hand"

Well it is fast approaching that time of year again, the part of the year where I fill up my Tivo box with coverage of Le mans.  I have always had a fascination with this race although I've struggled with a lack of source material back in the day I now can satiate my need for speed with the main reason I went for a Virgin media account.  
Mind you it's not just Le Mans, BTCC, WTCC, WRC, Formula 1, Rally Cross even banger racing if they'd show it. would all get my attention.  I buy car mags and up until other games came out where I could shoot things in the face, I was obsessed with Forza4 as older posts will testify.  When my Saturday mornings consisted of Tiswas followed by World of Sport I used to find myself waiting to see if they had either truck racing, swamp buggy racing, drag racing or tractor pulling.  Quite often I would leave the house after I found out it was all cricket and/or horse racing and play around Simon's house.
I watch Top gear almost religiously, closest thing to a religion that I will subscribe to. I will watch hours of YouTube footage of highly expensive and highly tuned cars make loud noises.  This will give me what James May has described as a 'tingle' behind the gentleman's area. I love the noise of motors, although not that power tool my neighbour is using at this precise moment which is boring it's way through both the concrete and my headache, I even stoop so low as to sometimes occasionally watch Motorbike racing, mainly to see dumbasses* in leather skid across tarmac on their arses or head.  Although, strangely, the TT races have never captured my imagination or interest.
With all this in mind I still wonder at why I have never learnt  to drive?  It's not as though I could afford it, although I doubt I would own a car.  I think it is the fact that I would have to constantly give mo9ney away to the Government and Oil companies not to mention having to fork out for road tax, parking etc.  Driving friends have tried to talk me into it the way those annoying born again Christians try to talk you into opening your heart to Jeebus.
I suppose once again I'll not actually go to Le Mans or my other favourite race in the world, Monaco GP, mainly because again I begrudge paying for a passport...and tickets...and hotels and I am too damn lazy to learn French.  I could go to Thruxton or Donnington or Silverstone or Brands Hatch but these places are out of the way if you are a non driver.  The same goes for the Beaulieu motor museum or the one I really want to go to is the Aston Martin Museum.  
So the plan is either learn to drive or win the lottery and hire a chauffeur.  Hmmm lottery ticket is only two pounds. 
I think I need to reacquaint  myself with Forza 4.

*= I call them dumbasses due to the fact I subscribe to the semi Orwellian maxim "Four wheels good, two wheels bad." 

31 Jan 2013

More of the inane bollocks you've come to expect

"Well I'll try not to hold you
And I'll try not to kiss you
And I won't even touch you
All I want to do is see you
Don't you know that it's true."

I have decided that I want to be a scientist, it's easy money.  Quite often during the slower news days you'll read reports about scientists have discovered this that or the other and usually it's pretty darn interesting, such as a new planet they've discovered that is Earth like, but it's so far away it would take us eleventy billion years away to get there.  This is to my mind a bit of a gyp, let's face it none of us are ever going to find it even if we had a really big telescope. I often think that scientists don't do any work and cobble something together annually to give to the press.  Once printed in a paper so long as it looks good and anyway it'll be disproved sooner or later as some other scientist wakes up from a slumber and writes a different paper saying "oh no it isn't".  Some other scientist will add his or her weight to the argument and a soon as the world stops looking they go back to sleep.
Another reason for me being a scientist, if the Big Bang Theory is to be held up as a true representation of the world of lab coats and white boards,  is that all you do all day is eat in the cafeteria, chase and get extremely attractive women, go to the comic book store and not to actually do any work.  Seems good to me, certainly it beats my job of selling stuff I hate to people I hate and manhandling shoplifters into the wall.  Don't get me wrong I enjoy the Kaley Cuoco show as I call it and it's extremely funny but why has no one printed a paper saying there's "a planet made from white chocolate with a rich deep vein of pistachio nuts and at some point in the past it had been bombarded by a coconut cookie meteor shower but it's over twenty five to the power of twelvety four zillion miles away so you shouldn't go looking for it" yet?
But the real reason I would love to be a scientist is that I could do a study with loads of cash as to why pets like being stroked (note, whilst writing this I slipped on the keyboard and it originally read why poets like being stroked. I'm sure they do but that wasn't the original study).
No, the paper read that;  
"Scientists may have discovered why cats and dogs never seem to tire of being petted.  Areas of hairy skin contain specialised nerve cells that send 'pleasure pulses' to the brain when stimulated. A study of laboratory mice showed that the nerve endings in their hairy back legs respond well to rubbing, but not to pain".  

Well surely that goes for all of us? I'm sure I remember that I like to be stroked on my hairy legs but not quite so fond of being stabbed.  Watch the science journals in the near future for my paper entitled "A study on why cats like to be stroked but aren't that fond of being hit in the face with a hammer".