tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85762616774392541832024-03-07T07:13:41.307+00:00The Hundredth IdiotOne hundred idiots make idiotic plans and carry them out. All but one justly fail. The hundredth idiot, whose plan succeeded through pure luck, is immediately convinced he's a genius.
Iain M. BanksAn Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8576261677439254183.post-12687384030794279602012-08-14T12:09:00.002+01:002012-08-14T12:12:03.775+01:00My Olympic legacy is to start playing the lottery...I've always been against the National Lottery. I called it a "tax on the poor"(justifiably). I have smugly felt superior to people who played it. As a (more or less) socialist, I've always thought that things that most people in the country want, such as support for elite athletes whose sport doesn't generate sufficient revenue to sustain the cost of elite training, should be paid for out of general taxation.<br />
<br />
But you know what? The joke's on me. Lottery players have supported the athletes I have cheered so loudly for last week. Just cos I would prefer to be taxed to support them, I have not supported them, even though I love what they do.
So yes, I still don't agree with the lottery, but it's just a tax I have to chose to pay and from today, I am choosing to do so.<br />
<br />
(btw - I know there's tonnes of other factors covering the lottery good/bad debate, but I'm in a rush, so you know, fill in the other stuff based on what you think I'd probably think. ta)<br />
<br />
IdiotAn Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8576261677439254183.post-35838701161460578142011-08-18T08:07:00.002+01:002011-08-19T01:19:30.696+01:00on the playing fields of North London....In the annals of Gentleman’s Relish there are some games that, for a variety of reasons, it is likely very few of the protagonists remember playing in. Similarly, there are some games no-one involved will ever forget. Our first match against the Hawksmoor Cricket Club will almost certainly fall in the latter category. <br />
<br />
Scheduled for 1pm at Parliament Hill Fields, a delightful ground, we arrived to find an altogether different team awaiting their opponents. Presently, the Relishers' Match Captain Chappers arrived with some very smartly dressed but decidedly confused chaps in tow who turned out to be our opposition. After some negotiation it became apparent that the pitch was not booked for our match and that in all likelihood, our game was due to be played on the Hampstead Heath Extension nearly 2 miles away. Your correspondent cannot be too harsh about this, having done exactly the same thing to the Relishers some years ago.<br />
<br />
So, on a hot and sunny day we set off across the heath in search of a venue. This involved a fair amount of getting lost and gave the teams an opportunity to get to know one another. It cannot be described as a bonding experience.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiHIFfEUr_fQ5RQF8cCobdgWbI8Bj5dvWBX1zaQf0beS9fLpXIexxLSDZoC4cjpIEmG1RCUTy_0GPP0TjnAD7SIYFQPv0cq92dd0u67qqQ4pqb59YzWFmTeQPHLVVsAXQGCIrNyah_Ir4Y/s1600/image002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiHIFfEUr_fQ5RQF8cCobdgWbI8Bj5dvWBX1zaQf0beS9fLpXIexxLSDZoC4cjpIEmG1RCUTy_0GPP0TjnAD7SIYFQPv0cq92dd0u67qqQ4pqb59YzWFmTeQPHLVVsAXQGCIrNyah_Ir4Y/s320/image002.jpg" /></a></div><br />
After some time walking and with a stop for an ice-cream for the especially alert, We eventually happened upon the promised oval. After further discussions, a pitch was decided upon and the toss made. Auspiciously Captain Chappers called correctly and the Relishers went in to bat. The wicket was dry, green, slow and with a bit of a slope. The outfield however was glorious and, with the sun shining, conditions for batting looked good. Unfortunately, our youthful opponents, with techniques honed at extremely reputable schools, set about proving otherwise.<br />
<br />
Roger and I were both off the mark quickly with leg-side nurdles. However, with plenty of free runs in the form of byes (inexperienced keeper, later replaced) and wides (rusty bowlers) our stroke play remained circumspect. We moved along at a very reasonable 4 an over for a while until it became apparent that one of their bowlers was indeed rusty rather than rubbish and the quality of the deliveries began to improve markedly. Scoring faltered and eventually the inevitable happened: forced back by a quickish back of a length ball, I failed to defend a slower ball yorker and departed. <br />
<br />
We sent our borrowed player Benny in at number 3. He seemed to have been exiled to us for some transgression and was mercilessly targeted by his own side. However it was Roger, now set and becoming more fluent that fell first. The less threatening of the two opening bowlers sent down a fullish ball on middle and leg which stopped in the pitch. Roger, conscious of the need to up the rate saw the chance to drive but was defeated by the slowness off the wicket and sent back a creditable return catch for 24<br />
<br />
The first change bowlers at either end turned out to be no slouches either. Benny was lbw for 5. Salman, normally the among most unflappable of Relishers’ batmen was kept hopping around with some accurate short pitched stuff and then spliced one to square leg for 7. Scoring slowed further and at one point the 1st change Lloyd-Thomas had figures of 2 for 0 off 3 overs. Suresh offered the brightest resistance, hitting some lovely shots square of both sides of the wicket and counter-attacking with considerable success until a moment of class ended his innings. A little too much air on an attempt to clear mid-on gave mid-wicket just enough time to run round and complete a spectacular catch. Dan followed quickly courtesy of another good catch by the same fielder.<br />
<br />
We took drinks in some disarray at 91 for 6 and wickets continued to tumble after the break. The opposing captain brought himself on to bowl some pretty handy and delightfully orthodox leg-spin which bamboozled John when one failed to turn and bowled him. Chappers dispatched a full-toss to the square-leg boundary but then chipped to mid-on shortly after. Bod was struck in front before he’d had a chance to gauge the bowling and the innings threatened to subside meekly.<br />
<br />
Thank heavens then for the final pair of Nikhil and Siva, who, with our blushes to spare, set about the bowling with gusto. A quickfire stand of 33, including a wonderful hooked 6 by Siva and flurry of well-struck boundaries from Nikhil’s bat took us to 132 off 21 of the allotted 35 overs. <br />
<br />
This looked, charitably, 50-60 runs short. But as the Relish ate their tea there was a general feeling that this was not a game any of us wished to lose. Some of the chat during our innings had been a little irritating and there was a sense that here were group of young men who were not likely to do much losing in their lives and it fell to us to remind them that it happens to everyone sometimes. So, it was a resolute side that took the field after the break. Buoyed by a calm and determined talk from Captain Chappers we set about our defence.<br />
<br />
Siva hit his lengths immediately and the openers, unconcerned by the required rate, took the hint and played defensively. Even so the bat was beaten frequently, but when the ball was straight they were good enough to keep it out. Salman also demanded respect with some nice away movement and a consistent off stump line and it was he who, in the fourth over made the first breakthrough when Bruce spooned a catch to Nikhil in the leg side. Siva was then rewarded for his excellent spell when he found a beautiful inswinger that pierced the defenses of the other opener Robinson and took out middle. <br />
<br />
Sensing a chance to make serious in-roads Chappers kept the field in and was rewarded with some excellent stops as numbers 3 (Hobbs) and 4 (Captain Tom) tried to play themselves in. John and Dan came on as first change bowlers and though they too were accurate, the reduction in pace made the batsmen more comfortable and soon the Hawksmoor score began to tick over. Some unorthodox umpiring raised the tension levels a little as we strove to break what was starting to become an ominous partnership. It eventually gave in unfortunate circumstances as Captain Tom, turning for a second, aggravated an old neck injury and was run out by a yard. <br />
<br />
This proved only a temporary setback for Hawksmoor as Hobbs formed a new partnership with the incoming Lloyd-Thomas and runs kept flowing despite some really good fielding. Chappers turned to Nikhil to present a different challenge and it nearly worked as Hobbs skied a drive to extra cover only for the bowler and John to get in each other's way in their eagerness to take the catch and the chance went down. Had we missed our opportunity?<br />
<br />
Drinks came in the 17th over with the score at 75 for 3. With only 58 more required at less than 3.5 an over, two set batsmen and wickets in hand, things looked bleak for the Relish. The decision was made to bring back Siva and Salman to try and get through to the lower order who may find it harder to judge the chase. The first two overs after the break went wicketless but the intensity levels rose and in the 2nd over of Siva's 2nd spell came what might have been the turning point. Hobbs, unwilling to be kept quiet, tried to smash a good length ball over a deep-set mid off. Beaten for pace it flew high in the air, our substitue Benny settled under it and, to his credit, held on.<br />
<br />
Immediately Chappers brought in the field. Siva and Salman bowled out without further scalps but the tenor of the match had changed somehow. John and Dan came back for their second spells and immediately looked threatening - particularly Dan who's left arm round line troubled both batters and he soon pinned the incoming Redout in front. This precipitated a minor collapse as Suresh came on, immediately settled despite the tension and in a fantastic over, bowled Varma and then also caught Lloyd-Hughes on the crease. The umpire had no doubt and Hawksmoor were 7 down for 105. <br />
<br />
The dangerous Lloyd-Thomas was still there, but with so few runs to play with we tried to deprive him of the strike and eventually, sensing trouble at the other end, he tried to attack the wrong ball and got a leading edge off Dan which Suresh made no mistake with running round from point. 8 down but with only 16 runs to get in 8 overs the match was impossible to call. A maiden from John swung the momentum our way only for the incoming De Boreman to grasp it back with a boundary in the next over.<br />
<br />
Thankfully John got rid of De Boreman with a slower ball that he tried to thrash to the boundary, but could only poke to Chappers at mid on and suddenly Hawksmoor were 9 down with 9 runs to get. Kaufman tried to get the deficit to within a single hit with a slog to cover but an alert Siva managed to keep him to a single. Then came the moment that will live long in the memories of all who witnessed it. Nikhil, bowling at the death under intense pressure sent down a good delivery that Kaufman hoicked from outside off towards deep midwicket. Feeling he'd struck it well enough he turned for a second only to be sent back by his partner who saw Salman closing in on the ball. Attempting to arrest his momentum Kaufman ended up in a heap, a yard and a half short of his ground but with time to get back had it not been for an outrageously excellent throw from Salman that Nikhil had the prescence of mind to divert onto the stumps. A single bail dislodged and the Relish ran to a delirious huddle as the realisation of our achievement set in. <br />
<br />
An amazing match that both sides thoroughly enjoyed playing in. A wily and experienced team performance from the Relish saw us just over the line. With the match over, the slight needle that had permeated some of the game dissipated and we all went to the pub for a heartfelt celebration/commiseration. Many thanks to all involved, particularly Chappers for marshalling the team so well. I look forward to a repeat fixture next year. We might book the pitch though.<br />
<br />
<br />
Man of the Match<br />
<br />
Nikhil - An excellent all round performance. Without his runs at the end of our innings, we'd have had nothing to defend and his nerveless bowling and fielding at the death saw us over the line.<br />
<br />
NB: This report was contructed from my own deeply limited memory and from a potentially highly inaccurate scorecard. any corrections/omissions please let me know.<br />
<br />
Match: 35 overs<br />
<br />
G.R.A.C.C 132 All Out in 21 overs<br />
Hawksmoor 125 All Out in 32.4 overs<br />
<br />
G.R.A.C.C won by 7 runs<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
An Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8576261677439254183.post-13151254175146521082011-04-30T16:13:00.000+01:002011-04-30T16:13:38.550+01:00Spicy Tiger Prawn and Tomato...what? I was hungry ok?<div style="text-align: center;">Spicy Tiger Prawn and Tomato Soup</div><br />
I've had the prawns in the freezer for ages and couldn't decide what to do with them. This is what i came up with. Turned out way beyond my expectations. I meant to take a photo but this happened before i could.<br />
<br />
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Serves 2. Or me when hungry.<br />
<br />
1tbsp Olive Oil<br />
1 Large onion diced<br />
3 Large cloves of garlic thinly sliced<br />
2tsp Paprika<br />
1tsp heaped Garam Masala<br />
1tsp dried thyme<br />
1tsp dried chilli flakes<br />
200-250g Tiger Prawns (frozen)<br />
3-4 Ripe Vine Tomatoes seeded and diced<br />
400ml chicken stock (hot)<br />
1tbsp tomato puree<br />
Fresh basil finely chopped (thai basil even better of you've got it)<br />
<br />
Method:<br />
Soften the onion on a medium/low heat and season with salt and pepper. Just as the onion starts to brown, turn the heat right down and add the chilli, garam masala, paprika and thyme. Fry for two minutes and then add the garlic and fry gently for a further minute. Turn back up to a medium heat and add the prawns. Stir thoroughly to coat them in the onions and spices. As they start to colour add the tomatoes. Fry for 3 minutes, stirring regularly, until the prawns are almost cooked. Pour in the stock, bring to the boil then turn down to a low heat. Stir in the tomato puree and the basil and simmer for a minute or two to let the flavours combine. Serve with whatever you like.An Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8576261677439254183.post-29668301109272080982010-05-21T10:59:00.001+01:002010-05-21T11:00:57.294+01:00Cutting Off Your Nose to Spite Your FacebookThis post is one of countless thousands generated in the last few weeks about the changes to facebook's privacy settings. Generally, the tone of these has ranged from "concerned" to "haylp haylp somebody sayve me" with the occasional "we're all going to die" thrown in to make the soup of hysteria a little bit spicier. This post is going to be more "DUH!"<br />
<br />
The hand-wringing has generally centred around the feeling that at first Facebook was a wonderful benign entity that allowed people particpate in the manifold joys of social networking and now that it's got us all hooked, it has suddenly morphed in to some evil cackling renegade that wants to sell our babies to ICI for recycling. This anger comes about because people thought that because all the content came from the users this wouldn't be possible - if people stopped trusting facebook, they would go somewhere else and the world would spin serenely on. <br />
<br />
This is about as naive as the Incas thinking that the Spanish weren't just interested in all the yellow shiny stuff they had lying around. <br />
<br />
Whatever its origins, Facebook is a company. A company that has had *MAHOOOOOOSIVE* injections of VC money. A company that has to run an insanely huge infrastructure, serving a gazillion page impressions a second or people start to panic that the world is ending. I'm too lazy to find out, but i bet the amount of energy used to keep everyone up to date on their current rank in Farmville is roughly equivalent to a medium-sized european town. The costs involved are staggering. <br />
<br />
In order to recoup the investment and pay its bills, Facebook has to make money (see? i worked this out all on my own). It'll probably never be able to charge directly for its service, so it must make money out of the one thing it has in spades: our personal information. The equation is simple. Sell as much of the info as it can without alienating the majority of its users. Because of the shear number of users Facebook has a monopoly of sorts. It is the only place you can have the kind of interactions you want with *all* the people you want. Monopolies are always bad for the consumer. <br />
<br />
So you may think that i am adding my tiny, irrelevant voice to the growing clamour saying that people should delete their facebook accounts, that they shouldn't stand for this treatment etc etc yawn. I am not. Facebook is useful. That is why it is successful. In a few small and boring ways it enhances my life signficantly. Mostly it tells me when parties are on. It also points out when a friend has discovered a new band i might like. It allows me to keep in occasional contact with people who live in other countries who i might not otherwise talk to from year to year. Useful. But if it wants my detailed personal info it can fuck off. All Facebook knows about me is what i am happy for it to know. It knows my name, that i live in london and that i like some obscure bands. It can probably infer a few more things, but nothing particularly interesting or marketable. I don't use apps and whenever i hear about a change to the privacy settings i set them as tight as possible. The key point here is that if you don't want the whole world to know something about you DON'T PUT IT ON THE FUCKING INTERNET. And, if you do DON'T WHINE WHEN THEY TRY TO SELL IT TO ADVERTISERS. Don't expect *anyone* online to have your best interests at heart. They might, they might not. You don't know. <br />
<br />
Ultimately, it is for governments to legislate what companies are allowed to do with our data online. The idea that the market will somehow keep us all safe is ridiculous. The market doesn't care a flake of sick about you. The market wants as much of your paycheck as it can get for the least amount of effort/investment. This may sound worryingly communist to some of you, but it is self-evident. <br />
<br />
The current controversy around privacy on Facebook is potentially a very good thing. It is perhaps where we become more enlightened consumers, more aware of the deal we are making between ourselves and the companies who's services we use. <br />
<br />
Don't stop using a service that makes your life better. Just make sure the price you're paying is not too high.An Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8576261677439254183.post-11729175517331261522010-01-18T12:33:00.000+00:002010-01-18T12:25:34.496+00:00Snooker, Sneering and Shadrack in South LondonLast week someone sent me a video that inadvertently reminded me of one of the oddest nights that London, in all its infinte silliness, has ever provided me with. With the benefit of 2 years of hindsight I now realise the tale says quite a lot about London and why I love it and why i still haven't gotten sick of living here about 5 yrs after I thought I would. Telling it might also involve talking a bit about race, class and sexuality, every self-respecting Englishman's most feared topics, so I shall try my utmost not to offend, but I'm not making any guarantees.<br /><br />The snooker club that N and I used to go to in Brixton closed - a casualty of the smoking ban and a couple of illegal poker games getting out of hand. After a few weeks of our cue arms rusting up we decided something had to be done and I consulted the internet for a replacement. As the pint glass flies, the nearest, google-indexed club was in West Norwood so we hopped on the bus one evening. We walked down an alleyway and up some stairs and were confronted by a very locked door and an iron bar-covered window with no-one behind it. After some knocking, buzzing and quite a bit of "well this isn't happening then" a straggly-haired and monumentally grumpy middle-aged woman appeared, cradling an evil-looking jack russell and demanded we explain ourselves. on being told we wanted to play snooker she said <br /><br />"well we're open, but you can't play snooker cos it's roller-disco night"<br /><br />N and I said nothing as were clearly in the presence of an weapons-grade lunatic. Roller-disco night? in a snooker club? W...T.......F?<br /><br />"you can play pool tho." <br /><br />as this seemed to be the best offer we were likely to get, we said that sounded fine. Without making any sudden movements.<br /><br />We were let in to an open plan, low-polystyrene-ceilinged, dingy and totally empty bar where some extremely desultry pies sat behind filthiest glass counter you have ever seen. I got a cue, paid a deposit (mostly to show that yes I did have a wallet and I was willing to use it) and negotiated the fee. We were then directed to the pool tables, separated from the main part of the club by some more semi-opaque is-it-*really*-glass? glass with a stern warning to replace the table cover when we were done, rattling in our ears. Our ears were already rattling, because somewhere in the place, the most stupidly tinny music - tinny to the point of un-identifiability - was being played. very loudly. It could have been Coldplay or a Brahms Concerto. If Brahms wrote concertos. I imagine he <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w0e4I9_QFkE">did</a>.<br /><br />Anyway, as we got to the pool area, we got our first look into the main snooker hall. It was immediately apparent that all the tables had indeed been moved to one end of the moderately large, lino-floored space. This was further evidence of a serious madness somewhere at work in the place. You don't move snooker tables. For starters they're huge and monstrously heavy, but mostly you don't do it cos it completely fucks them up. They take hours of rebalancing by people with thick glasses and spirit levels. No one who cared much about snooker would have performed such an act vandalism. Though admittedly that does leave about 95% of the UK population, I wouldn't have expected it to include the owners of a snooker club.<br /><br />Looking in, we also located the source of the music, which was a DJ playing on some worryingly antiquated equipment through a soundsystem that had long since had every bass frequency pummelled out of it by inconsiderately played ragga. Close up, it was possible to discern that the music was in fact some pretty standard off-the-shelf, medium-insipid r&b. But only cos the predominant identifiable sound was the evil that is the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vocoder">vocoder</a>.<br /><br />We pulled the cover off the pool table which, other than a damp patch in one corner, didn't look too bad. If you've ever played pool in a pub, you've probably played on worse. After a bit of baize-brushing we got down to play. Almost immediately a buzzer sounded somewhere and the main door was opened by a humungous black guy. Think <a href="http://www.nndb.com/people/632/000025557/ving5-sized.jpg">Marcellus Wallis</a> in Pulp Fiction. Only carrying roller boots. Not blades, boots. Proper, 80's rollerboots. Not saying a word to the proprietress he moved to the middle of the bar and began stripping off his Evisu shell suit and limbering up. Over the next hour or so he was joined by about another 25 or so properly hard-looking Jamaicans, similarly equipped and attired, all of whom, when they noticed N and I, regarded us with undiguised contempt.<br /><br />We weren't much concerned about this. For many years N and I were customers at a Brixton speakeasy that was gradually taken over by West Indian crack dealers. Eventually we were the only white people who went, but we were tolerated, partly cos the guy who ran it, a wonderful wise Jamaican guy, had become our good friend and vouched for us, partly because we were there first but mostly because we weren't intimidated by them and also as a couple of skinny white guys we weren't any sort of threat to them either. The only problem they ever really had with us, apart from not being able to beat us at pool, was the lingering suspicion that we must be gay. And to your average red-blooded yardie, gay is a about as bad a thing as you can be. Even the most enlightened and liberal of them, some of whom I would happily call friends, would no more tolerate a "batty man" than they would a paedophile. This prejudice is cultural, rather than religious, for though it has its roots in evangelical christianity, these were not men who's christian faith in anyway guided their actions. It is something they grew up with, are surrounded by and when pressed are completely unable to justify. N and I teased them mercilessly about it as in many other respects these were nice, reasonable, clever guys but they were completely unable to equate their homophobia with the racism they regularly suffered.<br /><br />I mention all of this because once the assembled company at the snooker club had got themselves changed, they very closely resembled a monstrous hybrid of the casts of Fame and Starlight Express and looked, frankly, as camp as a caravan site the size of Florida. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8yLq4ckZabUKB9Ij8uWOH0C4vmYIC3hW7bOOIC-OlFyXjOnruWy2vhj8h1r6guuI0kqMs5VzOBvKl8YLSqnxvsKurxNTt7HIGmW7EG2At1Jt5MGvde-VWdqMELHTBmi6oLXXGwBghsrZs/s1600-h/best+cast+pic+FAME.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8yLq4ckZabUKB9Ij8uWOH0C4vmYIC3hW7bOOIC-OlFyXjOnruWy2vhj8h1r6guuI0kqMs5VzOBvKl8YLSqnxvsKurxNTt7HIGmW7EG2At1Jt5MGvde-VWdqMELHTBmi6oLXXGwBghsrZs/s320/best+cast+pic+FAME.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427520027437434818" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgia33dfA_HIa0YUtNmg71NK9i0OmEhbbzXnDA9XY6Sa9H0kwTRNwVt1w_zggpUVS4n2-ljFsHIRkYq5Sgez7N-rW2X3Zii3_CH3GITfU_G5wV3IRPk_uNy6iWFCfOe7oGANPsKT4cZRU73/s1600-h/express.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 238px; height: 286px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgia33dfA_HIa0YUtNmg71NK9i0OmEhbbzXnDA9XY6Sa9H0kwTRNwVt1w_zggpUVS4n2-ljFsHIRkYq5Sgez7N-rW2X3Zii3_CH3GITfU_G5wV3IRPk_uNy6iWFCfOe7oGANPsKT4cZRU73/s320/express.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427521120972803026" /></a><br /><br />This effect was heightened by a display of stretching and posing that wouldn't have looked out of place at a regional ice dance championship. Now don't suspect that we had stumbled across some underground persecuted gay sub-minority of black culture, forced to practise their art away from an un-understanding world. A couple of spectacularly bored-looking girlfriends had been bought along to witness, but certainly not to participate in, the show. There was an undercurrent of aggressive alpha male competition firmly suffusing the entire atmosphere. And as someone who would categorise themselves firmly as a beta male, I can taste one part of that shit in a million.<br /><br />At this point we did begin to get a bit concerned because the main event seemed to be about to start and it was now clear what this was going to involve. And the sheer incongruity of that was going to make us laugh. A lot. An outbreak of totally un-ironic disco pointing a few minutes earlier had already provoked some serious giggles we had risked major internal injuries to suppress. Laughing at any of these guys was going to get us properly beaten up, at the very least.<br /><br />Then, I had to take a shot that required me to put my hand in the wet patch on the table. After I'd safely missed it and took my hand away I was overjoyed to discover that the wet patch was urine. Dog urine specifically. That was it. It was really time to go. Leaving the cover off the table, to allow it to dry out, we went to pay our bill and make our escape.<br /><br />The lady at the counter had sunk to new depths of grumpiness,<br /><br />"you've left the cover off"<br />"yes. you see...the thing is...I think your dog might have had a little accident on the table...so we left it off to..."<br />"it wasn't him. he's housetrained."<br />"ok...but there's definitely wee on the table"<br />"it can't have been him. he's 18 months old."<br /><br />There is no arguing with logic like that. We paid up and left meekly. As we walked out another party of rollers was entering. One of them took the trouble to give me a stiff thud to the shoulder with his own as we passed each other on the stairs. At the time it annoyed me, but looking back, he was right. We weren't welcome. Not because we were white, or middle-class or anything like that - though it probably didn't help. We weren't rollerbooters. And people have the right do the thing makes them happy in private, without being sneered at or mocked. As long as it's not at anyone else's expense of course. And that is a lesson that London tries to teach me all the time and occasionally on nights like that I remember to listen. An infinite variety of peccadilloes and pastimes are available and participated in all the time in the capital, a sizeable chunk of which we have no knowledge of or interest in, but London gives us the chance to experience them anyway and consequently broaden our horizons. Even long after we're safely tucked up in our own predilictions and prejudices.<br /><br />All that having been said, once you're up on youtube, you are pretty much fair game so watch the video that inspired this post. *ALL* the way through. The end is hilarious.<br /><br /> <object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/P_thFIwpUCQ&hl=en_GB&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/P_thFIwpUCQ&hl=en_GB&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>An Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8576261677439254183.post-59948301802154932752009-06-01T09:32:00.003+01:002009-06-01T09:40:39.715+01:00pregnant women are smugi tweeted this over the weekend, but having been singing it to myself since i discovered it, i felt it deserved a wider airing:<br /><br /><br /><object width="400" height="267"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=4085920&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" /><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=4085920&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="267"></embed></object><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/4085920">Pregnant Women are Smug</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user853965">Erika Lindhome</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p><br /><br /><br />It's the work of <a href="http://garfunkelandoates.com/">garfunkel and oates</a> who are a couple of jobbing actresses united by a sense of a humour. Their <a href="http://garfunkelandoates.com/music/clips/5/worst-song-medley/">Worst song medley</a> is also worth a listen. enjoy.An Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8576261677439254183.post-34180694528677877032009-02-09T22:29:00.005+00:002009-02-10T08:49:46.183+00:00someone make me stop watching this crapI have become transfixed by a spectacle of such hideousness that i am now unable to go bed for fear of missing the next gawp-worthy atrocity. I feel like a cctv operator forced to stare at a fog bound motorway across which someone has constructed particularly spikey brick wall. I'd always assumed <a href="http://www.grammy.com/">the Grammys</a> would be an essentially harmless musical circle-jerk: dull speeches, robotic, monochrome versions of the year's most inoffensive hits and a few quick cuts as members of linkin park are forcibly removed by security. Internet, i have been hopelessly naive. They are actually trying to destroy the fabric of music.<br /><br />Where do you start? The announcer sounds like a live version of my bank's automated phone system, calling out the names of musical luminaries with all the passion of an autistic belgian accountant. Then there's the insistence on shoe-horning wildly dissonant artists into blood-curdling collaborations: Justin Timberlake dragging Al Green down to his level? ghastly. not painful enough for you? how about Stevie Wonder accompanied by the Jonas Brothers? i had to break one of my own fingers just to get through that one. I was still reeling from the vindictive cluelessness that led to Coldplay being nominated for best rock album when they ACTUALLY FUCKING WON IT! Rock? Coldplay? Awesome. Seriously, well done guys. The stage set for Katy Perry's shambolic rendition of her record executive erection maintenance device consisted of various giant plastic versions of pretty much every type of fruit. except oranges. that's a subtle as the evening has got so far.<br /><br />Then there's the sheer, crushing, stilted ineptitude of the whole thing. OK the Rock is never going win a prize for Best Reading of an Autocue on a Large Translucent Plastic Island, so perhaps don't make him do a two and a half minute comedy routine containing precisely one joke. don't let mily cyrus sing live, particularly not alongside someone who can actually sing. when introducing ESTELLE, singing ESTELLE'S song American Boy with Kanye West rapping away alongside, try say, introducing ESTELLE the person who's song it is rather than the idiot with Thriller hair and a god delusion.<br /><br />There has been one good bit, Radiohead playing with a marching band. but you could see the embarrassment seeping through Thom Yorke's spasmodic, "i actually have talent so don't care" dancing. <br /><br />I expect my pointless self-congratulatory schmaltz to at least be effectively stage managed even if the music itself is cock. that the Grammys couldn't even manage that frankly comes as a bit of a shock. and we're expecting the music industry to sort out such complex issues as copyright and file-sharing? not to mention nurturing the next generation of genuine artists? dear christ.<br /><br />I'm looking forward to next year's ceremony already. if they can top this they might actually generate some kind of musical black hole, sucking the entire monstrous edifice into itself, crushing it to the size of a higgs boson and then hurling it across the dimensions never to be seen again. and i wouldn't want to miss that.An Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8576261677439254183.post-84835153219342746672008-07-30T10:12:00.005+01:002008-07-30T13:54:07.054+01:00signposts to a summeryes it is time. we have now reached the 3 weeks of the british summer where the sun breaks through and the rest of the british public, when pushed, would say that they thought cricket was really rather jolly and wasn't it a nice day out with the kids and isn't Pimm's lovely. as opposed to the rest of the time when the focus groups consistently come back with: boring, incomprehensible, elitist and rained off.<br /><br />So what are the england team doing to cash in on this fleeting ambivalence? yes they're carrying on their relentless search for top-class mediocrity and "the right areas" against the South Africans. so thank god for Roots Manuva who, in releasing this video has probably done more for English cricket than Wisden has managed in 10 years. tune too.<br /><br />via <a href="http://www.musiclikedirt.com">musiclikedirt</a><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/FRxYNTH-5Go&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/FRxYNTH-5Go&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><br />the other event happening around now, is the annual UK Drug Policy Commission Report. This is the yearly reminder to the government that they would generally cause a lot less pain for all of us if they just gave the fuck up, had some Pimm's on the terrace and watched the cricket. i was pleased to note that so eye-stabbingly obvious are the conclusions of this report that the bbc have simply recycled last year's article with a couple of powerpoint slides tacked on the end. i expect next year's to just read: drug. policy. pointless.<br /><br /><a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/6566369.stm">last year</a><br /><br /><a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/7531860.stm">this year</a><br /><br />pass the smack, blowers.An Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8576261677439254183.post-61335094585672780142008-01-12T17:06:00.000+00:002008-01-12T17:52:33.757+00:00how not to make a formulaic hip-hop videohello - yes, still here. more or less anyway, but it takes something pretty awe-inspiring to drive me to the keyboard these days. in fact, this video thoroughly justifies me not posting all the weak shit i would doubtless have sent your way since september.<br /><br />dj format should be absolutely my cup of my tea: clever, old school, uk hip hop with plenty of up to date references and samples, great beats and no guns, hos, obscure types of brandy or attempts by the rapper to make comparisons between themselves and god (yes kanye - you can still fuck off - daft punk sample or not).<br /><br />but tho i love Music for the Mature B-Boy, i've never had it on quite as heavy rotation as you might expect and i haven't sought out too much of his other stuff (tho i have now got <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/FABRICLIVE27-DJ-Format/dp/B000CNFBL8/ref=pd_bbs_sr_3?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1200158594&sr=8-3">this</a> on order). it'd certainly never occured to me to wonder what the videos for the tracks were like. so, during a mid morning musical wilf i was frankly stunned to find this:<br /><br /><object width="425" height="355"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pkjTM4AfYdU&rel=1"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pkjTM4AfYdU&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br />i've already sent this to most ppl i know but it makes me smile so much i felt i needed to share the joy. and it's good to know that bungle hasn't rested on his laurels after the success of rainbow.<br /><br />it's the work of ruben fleischer, about whom i can do no more (cos i know piss all about film) than to direct you to his rather excellent <a href="http://www.ruben.fm/">website</a>. where you will find several squillion brilliant films and photos to amuse yourseves with.<br /><br />happy new thing to you all. see you in... well, march probably.An Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8576261677439254183.post-46791958704476817512007-09-13T20:13:00.000+01:002007-09-13T21:45:44.157+01:00a simple marital medieval knees-up in north wales<div align="center"><br /><br /></div><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109772567936059042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaMk0NyjCSl4K63vA_Dem3mLUxiBBBbhZb7BfOcsYjdpUIieDp71zDiTBtjI2AahBfJwmhsiZB0bg7Bn1RUOOnoRInVF47oM7Q9A3wXREHBS80zedUOCKcSQGJQsOWKifa5Lagg_lChgtF/s400/usedited.JPG" border="0" /> how cool did you say we looked again?</p><div align="center"><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109791912468760354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghhNAny90yGjl359l_ixpT4eatLIqI1_ihuKfyrcgmDf4Xj0T6JRgqQpy27XoyB9pB32vXK3AAw5lGRNYAjyK5UpM1vch0a4idIu1AJZyOYvFTmJPMyyA0cuNCJxfoMwdMzKeQj1ptO-hI/s400/banquetedit.JPG" border="0" /><br /><p align="center">where's the fucking mead?<br /><br /></p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkdQAFCNxLO11VjB7muoiA76FFYrokVXvrDpFhenA088MBTL_J1M_8gCgn593MVzO-oPrAKYB_RMlGxPdkPsw9rEMlIjRug_J6kxA_OjelWpVSC74vslV-MedzC2-_F10W1dNQTsvoWaYm/s1600-h/ChristianBaleedited.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109772572231026354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkdQAFCNxLO11VjB7muoiA76FFYrokVXvrDpFhenA088MBTL_J1M_8gCgn593MVzO-oPrAKYB_RMlGxPdkPsw9rEMlIjRug_J6kxA_OjelWpVSC74vslV-MedzC2-_F10W1dNQTsvoWaYm/s400/ChristianBaleedited.JPG" border="0" /></a>look! look! it's Christian Bale!<br /></p><p align="center"><br /></p><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhash1K5-2csJZj8Zi4NVXgrPADU0OSIDSOt5Hqtyfis35B4z9xpw5jyqtnK6yo_hBtssiu7v0WIdGyKgHh6PMfhsopSxZCGkxD9-6ZBJBZKRgsdjemNFoTAmd7IBbL1yk2o9DIWwGHI4eQ/s1600-h/Rob&Gidfireedited.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109772576525993666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhash1K5-2csJZj8Zi4NVXgrPADU0OSIDSOt5Hqtyfis35B4z9xpw5jyqtnK6yo_hBtssiu7v0WIdGyKgHh6PMfhsopSxZCGkxD9-6ZBJBZKRgsdjemNFoTAmd7IBbL1yk2o9DIWwGHI4eQ/s400/Rob&Gidfireedited.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><p align="center">bloody hippies</p><br /><br /><p></p><br /><p></p><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109772580820960978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFC7xWopsEaSRNY-yRnia7T_-dkruEwgsd_UkduvNlXnkcOidPTLyhseo91uWqb8romqPsFQdG391oXRwsajt_RyhXHtjJlixku1Jadg785P6xFafeyaVVvtpywaKytZbnI3PzXpD5UCHN/s400/swordfightedit.JPG" border="0" />fuck off with your comfy chair.<br /><br /></p><p align="center"> </p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ5TFQF2392vAHRp15hU0qQF3G9Kaud5BRJ2png6nGSIQI4LzFmLI_57D4ufZCxquy9nc4IMNmpcsL9hHZACA-WzFX3wG3pHvUxuFsQ7zuPxLX9pG8O-iUIDPd4m8SwACRw2i793aqRTML/s1600-h/brideedited.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109772580820960994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ5TFQF2392vAHRp15hU0qQF3G9Kaud5BRJ2png6nGSIQI4LzFmLI_57D4ufZCxquy9nc4IMNmpcsL9hHZACA-WzFX3wG3pHvUxuFsQ7zuPxLX9pG8O-iUIDPd4m8SwACRw2i793aqRTML/s400/brideedited.JPG" border="0" /></a>she's married you know. </p><br /><br /><p align="center"></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109787295378917122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT6HCFEDJfJQOrybMRHDViV3U8fahyf58klnmpbx_ON289ZCs8C1Fws3PX1jlO7qVkBEDf83QJNTdXWXULTzChV2qa487IrZX9QE1msLLz0-BHF5Ou2Z5j7SuZKCFGqx6kZ29MvH4mJr_k/s400/happycoupleedit.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><p align="center">ok, they do look quite cool actually.</p><br /><br /><p><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109772902943508210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvQUwkeFuBYPNwAWbP7pFuEpvtwYPKLWxUkVVeaUPMcFEoJgecK-T303yIKWvGFpXz2dD04EO72G7n8VYqOgdLcb_rfYSRDkXF7I3OfmuKVOdmhBybw47B9ffhacIh_Zphg1wcqE1VG4CR/s400/cannibalismedit.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"> rob, experimenting in the kitchen.<br /></p><p align="center"><br /> </p><p align="center">i very badly want the footage of the bmx-jousting. priceless entertainment. good wedding.<br /><br /></p><p align="center"></p>An Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8576261677439254183.post-21497270873819791112007-06-26T17:25:00.000+01:002007-06-26T17:27:41.828+01:00look. over there...you ain't sin me. right?<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/C9_yv1m9jN8"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/C9_yv1m9jN8" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br /><br />carry on.<br /><br />;)An Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8576261677439254183.post-74945955906705541692007-03-09T14:23:00.000+00:002007-03-09T17:30:36.879+00:00miscellany bitessomething of a pot pourri today. which is a nice way of saying i'm a bit all over the place. first up <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2007/03/04/magazine/04evolution.t.html?pagewanted=1&ei=5087%0A&em&en=12cf17af87d5001d&ex=1173589200">here's</a> a very interesting (and long) article from the New York Times about the whether man is predisposed to belief in the supernatural and how this could have occurred from an evolutionary perspective. lots of juicy stuff about what "benefits" shared religious belief could have given early man and the evolution of human cognition. not exactly friday afternoon fodder i'll admit.<br /><br />which is why item 2 concerns the inventive pop stylings of harlem milkshake maestress kelis. for me she veers too unpredictably between zeitgeist-nailing genius and dull as socks sub-r'n'b noodling depending on who she's working with. this is possibly a factor in her album bombing mightily in the US last year. however, the once thing she seems to have done well is to avoid "the mike skinner trap" (i.e moaning on and on about how hard it is being famous and thinking people will indentify with that as much as they did your early stuff). the single she's just released over here (lil' star) has latched itself firmly onto my consciousness. it's very simple has some great instrumentation and is just a very cheery 3 minutes of pop music.<br /><br /><div><object width="425" height="250"><param name="movie" value="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/4aSGqlSyqOM7s79If"></param><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/4aSGqlSyqOM7s79If" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="334" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object><br /><b><a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x10k2r_kelis-ft-cee-lo-lil-star">Kelis ft Cee Lo - Lil Star</a></b><br /><i>Uploaded by <a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/eusebiu">eusebiu</a></i></div><br />in another time i'd have had myself beaten up for listening to such lightweight guff, but there you go. i blame <a href="http://www.adrian.tk/2007/02/alright-steal.html">lily allen</a>.<br /><br />and finally, just to ensure that i've annoyed as many ppl as possible in this post, it appears that if we make it past PSV, (and we beat them 2-0 earlier in the competition), liverpool have another <a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/football/europe/6429641.stm">semi-final</a> against chelsea to look forward to (i'm assuming they'll get past valencia). bet that'll be a boring, controversy-free match. can we play someone else now please?An Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8576261677439254183.post-44143016764666507492007-03-06T12:39:00.000+00:002007-03-07T09:46:19.540+00:00don't i hate you from somewhere?i rather like crowds. not the back-of-the-stadium-watching-bon-jovi kind of crowd, more the bustling street of busy, purposeful types weaving in and out of each other in a complex ballet of lunchtime errands, shouted mobile-phone conversations and lateness. it gives you an opportunity to people-watch more surreptitiously than in bars and restaurants where people know they're being looked at and are consequently more guarded in their expressions. plus, in the shifting maelstrom of a thousand ppl with 'somewhere to go', your chances of seeing someone you know/recognise go up massively.<br /><br />now i work in Oxford Circus, haven for out-of-town shoppers, office workers and anyone else too dumb to avoid it without good reason. however, due to it's proximity to Broadcasting House, if you're sharp, and have a good memory for faces, in amongst the burberry-clad spend-monkeys, you can quite often get a "ooh - it's that bird off X" moment, which i rather enjoy as whilst it proves i watch too much telly, it means the rest of my pattern-recognising, simian brain is functioning ok. also, in these paparazzi obssessed days i think it is important for the public to hassle even the most minutely well-known person to such a degree that it becomes thoroughly undesirable to be even marginally famous. <br /><br />so i now present for your delectation, all my recent crap spots, rated according to my own, arbitrary criteria. basically - the more famous they are, the fewer points as even my hypothetical dead grandmother would recognise noel edmonds, for example. also additional points if they look particularly different from their onscreen persona or if i think the thing they are famous for is in any way cool. no blurry stalker photos yet - still working past shame issues, just lots of low rent comedy goodness:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIiEwd_DzQY9P1Fqlh2ov0q5fGMsQkbBuZwvXN3aDZ863NN3IFJvx0Aj-3bkjbm4OyXMw3f5LxWSXVDWqfzWjUIatkS-VBRilA-A-O4ctIp23l3z35Q9qZwpOCIUO9EUSC4OqZ3mAy6cRC/s1600-h/200px-MatthewHolness.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIiEwd_DzQY9P1Fqlh2ov0q5fGMsQkbBuZwvXN3aDZ863NN3IFJvx0Aj-3bkjbm4OyXMw3f5LxWSXVDWqfzWjUIatkS-VBRilA-A-O4ctIp23l3z35Q9qZwpOCIUO9EUSC4OqZ3mAy6cRC/s400/200px-MatthewHolness.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038774494455844050" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://imdb.com/name/nm1478358/">matthew holness</a> aka <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Garth_Marenghi's_Darkplace">garth marenghi</a>: like whoa. is so hardly famous he was actually glad when i told him i liked <a href="http://www.channel4.com/entertainment/tv/microsites/G/garth_marenghi/">Dark Place</a>. frankly, he looked amazed that i'd seen it. 5.32<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAwrCCdT5f4s2oCuWMlAGg4dTOoiBCU4cSJO5Vzv01xPNVORaLHcesI_Dw_1ob9q-oAzfLDsg6jQAu0zxKY1qjdBlh3QuqOaxt3aaT932IyFFYuxff__SmbIUkjV9GdmNl0t9Stg7mTCuy/s1600-h/char_michelle.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAwrCCdT5f4s2oCuWMlAGg4dTOoiBCU4cSJO5Vzv01xPNVORaLHcesI_Dw_1ob9q-oAzfLDsg6jQAu0zxKY1qjdBlh3QuqOaxt3aaT932IyFFYuxff__SmbIUkjV9GdmNl0t9Stg7mTCuy/s400/char_michelle.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038782045008350434" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://imdb.com/name/nm0327056/">michelle gomez</a> aka <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sue_White">Sue White off Green Wing</a>: this is as close as i've come to seeing someone even vaguely impressive. excellent dealing with public skills - completely ignored my attempts to congratulate her (disappointingly normal-sized arms tho). 7 easily.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio2/shows/vine/biography.shtml">jeremy vine</a> aka er...jeremy vine: bbc radio non-entity with a great nose for radio. can been seen every morning hiding in EAT quizzing his assistant on the phone about the days events. tall. 2.43<br /><br /><a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio4/presenters/mark_lawson.shtml">mark lawson</a> aka the fat bloke off newsnight review: and there was me thinking the bbc costume dept gave him those jumpers for a laugh. another illusion shattered. 2.42<br /><br /><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1551931/">samantha siddall</a> aka Mandy Macguire off <a href="http://www.channel4.com/entertainment/tv/microsites/S/shameless/index.html">Shameless</a>: i'm quite impressed with this one seeing as i've not seen more than 30 seconds of Shameless since the first series. nice beret. 6.2<br /><br />grace strumpet off <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Big_Brother_2006_%28UK%29">BB7</a> aka the poisonous twiglet: the least impressive (due to her high recognisability and low kudos score) and let me assure you, most unimpressive. so shit she doesn't even rate a page in wikipedia. oh for a ricin-tipped umbrella. 0.2361<br /> <br /><a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio2/shows/wright/">steve wright</a> - radio 2 deejay: i'd say he'd let himself go, were it not for the fact that he never really had himself in hand to start off with. a potential food resource in a post-apocalyptic london. 3<br /><br /><a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/fivelive/presenters/mayo_thisthat.shtml">simon mayo</a> aka god-bothering BBC stalwart: if the bags under his eyes are anything to go by, hasn't slept for at least 10 years. bet he fucking hates ben fogle. 2.54<br /><br />right - i'm off to bask in the early spring pollution with a sandwich. avanti!An Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8576261677439254183.post-49829037543335314942007-02-21T12:39:00.000+00:002007-02-21T12:54:00.544+00:00analyse this...yourselfi've spent several days trying to finish a long and worthy post about this cartoon and how it highlights some shit or other. i give up. it made me laugh anyway:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0KgAfIomkjBMVrU8R9NocR5Hcmt46rokMhtupm6VU0YvZNnEXgZxib111IvqaQJmVFY1IqsolbtmIBGyLTSNIVE8o55RSnVB2HsNYlBxNpxT3SAhuz1iWP9_5DZCjEWTwii2cmHI1YlMR/s1600-h/gywo_libby.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0KgAfIomkjBMVrU8R9NocR5Hcmt46rokMhtupm6VU0YvZNnEXgZxib111IvqaQJmVFY1IqsolbtmIBGyLTSNIVE8o55RSnVB2HsNYlBxNpxT3SAhuz1iWP9_5DZCjEWTwii2cmHI1YlMR/s400/gywo_libby.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033584591081730306" /></a><br /><br />from <a href="http://www.mnftiu.cc/mnftiu.cc/war62.html">GYWO</a>An Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8576261677439254183.post-62843237132453133842007-02-07T11:52:00.000+00:002007-02-07T14:15:25.570+00:00did you leave your basket unattended at any time, sir?there can't be many perks to working in brixton sainsbury's local. not because its a particularly rubbish job - lots of jobs are rubbish. you just ask <a href="http://dancingonice.itv.com/page.asp?partid=1">phillip schofield</a>. but it's very busy, everyone is extremely grumpy and it's blatantly only there to stop people going to the market, which sells much nicer, more interesting food but is fractionally more inconvenient. i don't imagine you get many free tickets to film premieres for example. or xbox360s. or respect from the local community for your frankly vital pasta selling work. but if it were me, there'd be one thing i would definitely enjoy and that's psychoanalysing your customers based on the contents of their shopping baskets.<br /><br />this is obviously a game you can play without working in the shop. and it works in any shop of course, but i suspect there is a richer soup of human diversity in brixton sainsbury's than almost anywhere else i can think of. on my way home. where i regularly shop. (that's enough qualification. ed)<br /><br />the joy of casually ascribing wildly inaccurate backstories to ppl based on the particular brand of tinned tuna they have purchased. the horror of seeing what groups of flat-sharing girls will actually call a meal in order to competitively out-under-eat each other. the record so far - 1 x pack of rice cakes 1 x small tub of low fat cottage cheese. for 3 of them. the nervous boyfriend trying to impress his bird with a "taste the difference" ready-meal, some salad, a "gu" pudding and a fearsomely expensive bottle of white wine. what better way to have your prejudices confirmed than by assigning them to random ppl based on the fractionally different configuration of the same old sainsburys rubbish you yourself have bought. what larks, pip.<br /><br />but then, sometimes, someone comes along who makes you stop and take a good long hard look at them and yourself:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh53-0fPAhMmiy4hNJSenRdcO0skrpC2uJ9vht-3s43pb9ODjNVYXPYLOw5FCC6fRCL6EhQqw6I3Xnsc7t1QpFZG5bqsf1YGAlUJ51uyt_uFfwkAA_N-1vfyjE6-nq-bLggzPS0-bNunEwu/s1600-h/IMAGE_020.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh53-0fPAhMmiy4hNJSenRdcO0skrpC2uJ9vht-3s43pb9ODjNVYXPYLOw5FCC6fRCL6EhQqw6I3Xnsc7t1QpFZG5bqsf1YGAlUJ51uyt_uFfwkAA_N-1vfyjE6-nq-bLggzPS0-bNunEwu/s400/IMAGE_020.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028759886433549362" /></a><br />a squeezy bottle of tomato sauce and a bottle of martini cinzano bianco. WTF? what kind of meal could you have possibly prepared where those are the only 2 items you are missing?<br /><br />is this some new cocktail? am i hopelessly out of touch for not regarding this as a normal combination? what's in the suspicious white bag?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig39kuuKbbpB1yDm-PhewViu34jsS5DMIIoDmx6RSsRpaJct-c-uPrfuHnnz_FLnCnEEbesI9fzV1aEZupjYgspHFRbk0rwazFjXF-xivhwHLN-uR1Cyb4jtThYeug1F3zBjnKZxNBtT4R/s1600-h/IMAGE_021.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig39kuuKbbpB1yDm-PhewViu34jsS5DMIIoDmx6RSsRpaJct-c-uPrfuHnnz_FLnCnEEbesI9fzV1aEZupjYgspHFRbk0rwazFjXF-xivhwHLN-uR1Cyb4jtThYeug1F3zBjnKZxNBtT4R/s400/IMAGE_021.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028776409172737090" /></a><br />to give you something to go on, this guy was heavily southern european, bordering on native american. fashionable jeans, ubiquitous but expensive "racing-style" motorbike jacket, large but also fashionable woolly hat and fake ray-ban aviators. i am fresh out of ideas. answers on generic supermarket receipt to this address, please.<br /><br />as an aside, whilst finding a link for martini cinzano i found this fantastic <a href="http://www.leonardrossiter.com/Videos.html#Cinzano">archive</a> of lots of leonard rossiter stuff including the cinzano adverts he did with joan collins. advertising as telling social commentary. with gags. those were the days. hurrah.An Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8576261677439254183.post-12659320333583718932007-02-06T11:57:00.000+00:002007-02-06T21:43:25.494+00:00i am a weak-minded foolgoodness me, it's been 2 weeks already. i'm probably taking self-censorship to unnecessary levels here. however i spent much of last week recovering from various hang-overs and i believe all evidence suggests that if you're not safe to drive, you're not safe to post.<br /><br />however, sobered as i am by all the <a href="http://today.reuters.co.uk/news/articlenews.aspx?storyid=2007-02-06T103043Z_01_L05567138_RTRUKOC_0_UK-BRITAIN-PAEDOPHILES.xml&type=topNews&WTmodLoc=Top+News-C3-More-9">salacious</a> <a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/6334239.stm">carnage</a> the world has conjured up in the last few days, it is my skills as a rat catcher that has inspired me to post.<br /><br />according to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Desmond_Morris">Desmond Morris</a>, who knows a thing or two about cat behaviour, the little dears have a few problems dealing with the complexity of human/cat relationships. as domestic cats are descended from mostly solitary cat species, their little catty brains only really have 3 templates to base their relationships on: parent to child, child to parent and competitor to competitor.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZehlYpal4kpKhclotUb9YJbP71v-Zu-KICpj05RLzw8lgOD9G4cl75qQqNW1OZ8zI469CsUGEUCGmJNUAAntvOod4D_-owbiewa92NTOFeM9_byyaXJubmZors0vn9jVojzFhcE8m-WGw/s1600-h/jahfrolickcropped.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZehlYpal4kpKhclotUb9YJbP71v-Zu-KICpj05RLzw8lgOD9G4cl75qQqNW1OZ8zI469CsUGEUCGmJNUAAntvOod4D_-owbiewa92NTOFeM9_byyaXJubmZors0vn9jVojzFhcE8m-WGw/s400/jahfrolickcropped.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028537398537681938" /></a><br /><br />so jah is very happy to be a kitten sometimes in order to get fed and have her tummy tickled, but there are times when the fact that she is a rock-hard mother of 9 takes over and she attempts to address the fact that, tho perfect in almost every other respect as one of her offspring, i do not catch rodents.<br /><br />this is obviously a serious failing on my part. how can i be expected to survive in the real world without this elementary skill? jah frets. and wonders if maybe i'm a bit thick. so she responds in the only way she knows how.<br /><br />cue screaming rodent dropped at your feet and a look of encouragement bordering on the patronising from jah.<br /><br />now i have laughed in a smug, human sort of way at this behaviour. silly cat i have thought to myself. trying to teach me to catch mice. ridiculous. but until last night i had not perceived the subtlety of her scheme.<br /><br />small mice don't present much of a challenge as they are far too much fun for jah not to bat around for a good forty minutes. consequently by the time they are presented to me for training purposes all that is required is that they be taken to an outside bin. this however is but the first step in my indoctrination.<br /><br />next a very large rat will be brought in and dispatched with terrifying ruthlessness. again my job is purely to dispose of the corpse. jah hides her disappointment that i didn't take the opportunity to practice some neck bites or even a two handed pounce. but she knows what she is doing.<br /><br />finally a medium sized rat is recruited to the cause. this, jah brings in and then "accidentally" lets go of it for a second. rat, sensing it's fate might not be as tightly sealed as it thought, makes a bee-line for cover. jah feigns indifference. "rat? what rat?". "that fucking rat, jah - the one behind the stereo. get rid of it!"<br /><br />we then spend ten minutes as i flush the rat towards jah in the hope of her dealing with it. H informs me this is an exceptional spectator sport. sometimes jah can be persuaded to remove the interloper and sometimes she'll pop outside to lick flowerpots importantly and this is where her trap is set.<br /><br />left with a decent-sized, uninjured rat in the house the only course of action is to don a gardening glove and go after the fucker. after some swearing, furniture recalibration and comical, high-speed twister-style manoeuvres, the rat can then be hurled through the cat flap to make it's merry way off to wherever it likes. prolly the nearest rat bar to relate this tale to some slinky lady rats in the hope of getting laid.<br /><br />now this has happened a few times without me making the connection. then, last night, the same drill: medium sized rat makes a break for the back of the chest in the living room. i take a look at jah and, realizing help is unlikely to be forthcoming, trudge to the kitchen, retrieve my glove, and catch the rat by it's tail within 30 secs or so. hurl rat as far as possible down the garden in the hope of killing it without having to watch it at the same time. as i walked back up the garden, i registered the expression of pride on her catty face and i knew.<br /><br />i have been trained to catch rodents by my cat.<br /><br />the shame. me - top of the food chain and everything. still, good rat eh? still wriggling too.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXHyrGmAjOZnenZG3OnSzV2HO4p7JOOqK-ixP8rrXZ_RzSqdorCuOy8J1G-l_xTBCpDVcrAe5oY8zZixCAIWIqL7xfb2OxwsSSp41BLp-fNio70RdC2V0AVP3V59LoGEuYpZc0pdc6eIJP/s1600-h/liverat.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXHyrGmAjOZnenZG3OnSzV2HO4p7JOOqK-ixP8rrXZ_RzSqdorCuOy8J1G-l_xTBCpDVcrAe5oY8zZixCAIWIqL7xfb2OxwsSSp41BLp-fNio70RdC2V0AVP3V59LoGEuYpZc0pdc6eIJP/s400/liverat.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028538575358721058" /></a><br /><br />next week H teaches me to clean the cooker using subliminal messaging.An Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8576261677439254183.post-31635121283428957892007-01-23T20:05:00.000+00:002007-01-24T13:14:43.779+00:00full of the joys of schadenfreudeit's funny what can cheer you up isn't it? i mean, there are so many wonderful, heartening, warm-glow inducing things in the world: the news that your friend's long awaited baby has arrived, being given an extra couple of slices of chorizo by the cheery lady who made your lunchtime sandwich, an amusing anecdote in David Niven's autobiography. any of these things could be enough to stop you feeling sorry for yourself and remind you of the quixotic joy of life here on earth.<br /><br />so, it is a sad reflection of the depths my black, heathen, smug-bastard soul has sunk to, that it was none of these things that made stop my self-absorbed strop.<br /><br />it was Richard Dawkins being rude to creationists.<br /><br />70 life-enhancing minutes of it. priceless. via <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/">the Guardian</a><br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qR_z85O0P2M"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qR_z85O0P2M" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br /><br />as bill hicks would say, sit down and strap in.<br /><br />you can see talk he actually gave <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xe7yf9GJUfU&eurl=">here</a> but that's just a boring mix of rational philosophy and science. nowhere near as fun as watching as his responses become terser and terser till he can eventually stand it no more and transmogrifies into a giant, raging, axe-wielding yeti and slaughters half of lynchburg in a bewildering orgy of atheistic destruction.<br /><br />fantastic.<br /><br />i was further gladdened by the cursory research i did into <a href="http://www.liberty.edu/">Liberty University</a>, the source of all these imaginary-friend sharing lunatics. check out their <a href="http://www.liberty.edu/index.cfm?PID=6899">statement of purpose</a>. aside from some jolly reasonable stuff about contributing to a knowledge and understanding of other cultures, it contains this gem:<br /><br />2. Promote an understanding of the Western tradition and the diverse elements of American cultural history, especially the importance of the individual in maintaining democratic and free market processes. <br /><br />yeah, i remember Jesus being really hot on the free-market.<br /><br />Matthew 12 vs 34: "Jesus sat down with the temple money changers and discussed the possibility of increasing their margin by introducing a traded exchange for sacrificial currency and perhaps diversifying their portfolio to include sacrificial property."<br /><br />this venerable institution was setup by none other than <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jerry_Falwell">Jerry Falwell</a>, baptist bible-thumper extraordinaire. after the September 11 attacks he came out with the now classic, "I really believe that the pagans, and the abortionists, and the feminists, and the gays and the lesbians who are actively trying to make that an alternative lifestyle, the ACLU, People For the American Way, all of them who have tried to secularize America. I point the finger in their face and say 'you helped this happen." <br /><br />thanks jerry. we are feeling the love.<br /><br />one of the other purposes of this bastion of educational rigour has been to provide academic justification for intelligent design. and they even have some "3000 year old" dinosaur (or as they call them: dragon) fossils dug up by this <a href="http://www.answersingenesis.org/creation/v14/i1/fossil.asp">joker</a> to help prove their point. to give you an idea of the strength of his argument, here's a sample quote:<br /><br />"There is just no way that the theory of evolution can be reconciled with the truth of creation as recorded in the Bible."<br /><br />well that's that dealt with then.<br /><br />so yes, i'm a lot happier now. there's nothing like a load of intelligent, educated people spending millions of pounds, willfully disregarding logic and the accumulated knowledge of the panoply of human scientific endeavour in order to create a scientific basis for a bronze age creation myth they had the dumb luck to be brought up believing, having the piss ripped out of them to put a smile on my face.<br /><br />hurrah!<br /><br />now coffee...An Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8576261677439254183.post-31911124725927276342007-01-22T16:58:00.000+00:002007-01-23T08:17:14.582+00:00still grumpy...well wrap me in magnesium foil and set fire to me with a blowtorch if i am not the grumpiest bastard alive. i have been moping around since my last post making <a href="http://inkandsinks.blogspot.com">H's</a> life hell and generally finding the glass not just half empty, but with the wrong pissing stuff in it to start off with so take it back and give it to someone who gives a haemorrhaging fuck. the reason for this stream of super-heated, petulant man-bile? anyone? bueller? exactly. nothing. not the slightest genuine ripple in the smooth-flowing stream that is my life. and yet. and yet.<br /><br />i've been tagged to tell you 5 things you probably didn't know about me and i will once i've calmed down enough to type past the glowing red mist that currently envelopes me. however, in the meantime, i will treat you all to 5 things that have absolutely made my blood boil last week:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1IzaCKkdNRhJAwqb2EM7LFazLEB9J-RYkT_BsVkMaSq1HLHRl04gNtdcHdiUYa450iChBYnl-ckVcy4DjfJzxZBJAk3WFl-rpk_hMgpDMOraiOwF6iG2VLZGczJwoqTynnbp2ADXViF6Q/s1600-h/kidz.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1IzaCKkdNRhJAwqb2EM7LFazLEB9J-RYkT_BsVkMaSq1HLHRl04gNtdcHdiUYa450iChBYnl-ckVcy4DjfJzxZBJAk3WFl-rpk_hMgpDMOraiOwF6iG2VLZGczJwoqTynnbp2ADXViF6Q/s400/kidz.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5022966216069413874" /></a><br /><br />1. these 3 prematurely louche, denim-ridden cock monkeys were about 14 weeks old. dressed to a man as if they were speed-tottin', hard-livin', groupie-fuckin' roadies with no conception of anything beyond summer 1982, they were walking down regent street in a manner that suggested their band had just scored a 24 date world tour supporting the Ramones. feet at 90 degrees to each other. shoulders rolling like someone with dentures eating a caramel baguette. conversation so drawn out that any normal person would have had to have recorded it and then replayed it at twice the speed in order to catch anything vaguely intelligible, let alone comprehensible.<br /><br />then they went into macdonald's. and one of them's mum rang. presumably to remind him to drink his breast milk. god i hated them. so much i could hardly hold the phone steady as i chased them down the street.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-BdX6u9HM7YQnplSm8_5ELcxfbk5-f3A1h3Pq1iGnsKIorFlelcPzXv-4uNCaJaIkvwr_1dmy3uJNCE2SWaMztpUSZjAtJzMbBCngVKEH-dkA4UbfxesF3e7oJbvFhrwjk0CoIeIGbQ3Y/s1600-h/7503.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-BdX6u9HM7YQnplSm8_5ELcxfbk5-f3A1h3Pq1iGnsKIorFlelcPzXv-4uNCaJaIkvwr_1dmy3uJNCE2SWaMztpUSZjAtJzMbBCngVKEH-dkA4UbfxesF3e7oJbvFhrwjk0CoIeIGbQ3Y/s400/7503.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5022966718580587522" /></a><br /><br />2. Ruth Kelly. i mean. really. never mind the fact she looks like <a href="http://www.tv-am.org.uk/uploadedfiles/henrykelly.JPG">henry kelly's</a> lesbian sister, this woman is responsible for our govt's flagship made-up <a href="http://www.communities.gov.uk/">Dept for Communities and Local Govt</a>. to quote from the number 10 website: "DCLG will be the successor department to the Office of the Deputy Prime Minister (that's the one they had to take back off John "Moronic Fat Twat" Prescott for being an incomprehensible philandering knob-jockey). It is an expanded department with a powerful new remit to promote community cohesion and equality." the irony of her being a member of cartoon-villain catholic sect <a href="http://www.opusdei.org/">Opus</a> <a href="http://www.odan.org/index.htm">Dei</a> was presumably lost on our dear leader when he gave her the job, seeing as Opus Dei are as much about promoting ecumenical understanding and community cohesion as they are about handing out free condoms and smoking crack. now she's <a href="http://news.independent.co.uk/uk/politics/article2171677.ece">undermining</a> some pretty reasonable <a href="http://www.opsi.gov.uk/ACTS/acts2006/ukpga_20060003_en.pdf">legislation</a> on gay equality by lobbying for her catholic chums to be exempt from bits of it they don't like. THE POINT OF EQUALITY LEGISLATION IS THAT EVERYONE HAS TO ABIDE BY IT OR THEY'RE BEING DISCRIMINATORY YOU CLUELESS HARPY. AND YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO LET YOUR PERSONAL RELIGIOUS VIEWS EFFECT THE IMPLEMENTATION OF GOVT POLICY. aaarrrgh. matron! bring me laudanum, a pint of absinthe and an illustrated copy of the Da Vinci Code.<br /><br />3. anyone living in London who complains about it being cold. if you are cold in london, either you are not wearing enough clothes or you're dying slowly of blood loss. with 10 million ppl all smoking marmoset and cranberry frappacinos, carrying round their own personal patio heaters and burning 4x4s to keep warm, even on the rare occasions when some vaguely less than warm air heads our way, it's still only about as cold as a chain-store coffee about 30 seconds after you get it. shut up.<br /><br />4. the coaching Jade Goody received for her CBB exit <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g3HkdL3qn5M">interview</a>. yes i know, but by this point my rage was such that i was deliberately seeking out sources of annoyance in order to fuel my fires of hate. i am not so naive that i think the whole thing isn't a massive pile of hastily pre-arranged cock, but at least, C4, try and maintain the illusion. try and carry out the whole thing with a teensy amount of skill or forethought. remind the bigoted, kebab-flashing bimbo you're exploiting to not start sentences with "when they told me, i mean when i just saw..." or edit it better. or just fuck off.<br /><br />5. my inability to write blog posts i am in anyway happy with.<br /><br /><br />there. i feel better now. oh. no i don't. grrr.An Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8576261677439254183.post-35776885421303904562007-01-18T19:47:00.000+00:002007-01-18T21:49:25.852+00:00big, hairy arsecakes.today, i am powerful with the grumpy side of the force. fear my peevishness. however, H has put a smile on my face by doing an excellent impression of dennis the menace given female form and promoted to wicked witch of the south-east. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMRndzm0os1ey3ZYc6ijvPBWYXatNt_INjBWJzobM74iYBj5n7WEaD58jJOWy1uv5-y_-fNEE0GHwONKnf_JsB5AJXNLg2pjXL8PVct3raXEHI2pUMUVskkWp2er0bgCHpp_WVZaJWpq79/s1600-h/h.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMRndzm0os1ey3ZYc6ijvPBWYXatNt_INjBWJzobM74iYBj5n7WEaD58jJOWy1uv5-y_-fNEE0GHwONKnf_JsB5AJXNLg2pjXL8PVct3raXEHI2pUMUVskkWp2er0bgCHpp_WVZaJWpq79/s400/h.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021462021440696802" /></a><br /><br />check these puppies out:<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxvinVRDw8D0Fw8h56j-HL37l2eQRvUc1PLloR1A838JY-e9t4FuJSY2G-dyuYe5WBdxLtXXnFovk2zOUhL8s6ynXwRomPZYY2FzzjKzWKTjcDXl0yq8OuokdqZTXnPm-N15Im4S-17BoF/s1600-h/witches+shoes.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxvinVRDw8D0Fw8h56j-HL37l2eQRvUc1PLloR1A838JY-e9t4FuJSY2G-dyuYe5WBdxLtXXnFovk2zOUhL8s6ynXwRomPZYY2FzzjKzWKTjcDXl0yq8OuokdqZTXnPm-N15Im4S-17BoF/s400/witches+shoes.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021485106889912818" /></a><br /><br />for the record, she has asked that her hair is not included in order that any girls reading are not instantly driven into a frenzy of jealousy that casues them to damage their computers. in some way. <br /><br />anyway, i'm so angry i nearly did an overly long and doubtless unnecessary post about the deeply unfunny slabrity <a href="http://www.channel4.com/bigbrother/index.jsp">big brother</a> <a href="http://media.guardian.co.uk/site/story/0,,1993792,00.html">racism</a> <a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/6274881.stm">controversy</a>. thankfully (for you that is dear reader), as i do so often in these situations, it thought, "what would <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Linda_Smith_(comedian)">linda smith</a> do?" and the answer was painfully obvious.<br /><br />she once said: "i don't really want to talk about <a href="http://www.jeffreyarcher.co.uk/">jeffrey</a> <a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/1424501.stm">archer</a> because i don't want to give him the oxygen of publicity. in fact, i'm not really certain i'm happy with him having the oxygen of oxygen."<br /><br />this sums up my feelings on the whole matter so well, that i am relieved from commenting further.<br /><br />it does, however, suggest an incredibly satisfying solution to the whole affair.An Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8576261677439254183.post-64382514909054189502007-01-16T14:30:00.000+00:002007-01-16T15:07:32.213+00:00i'm not angry - you're just thickchris (to printer): <br /> mutter...come on you crappy thing. your mother was telex.<br /><br />printer (cheerfully): chunter chunter printy noise printy noise collate collate<br /><br />user (getting up and walking over at least 3 km from far side of the office):<br /> is this printer not working?<br /><br />chris (to user):<br /> why? can't you print to it?<br /><br />user (with expression that suggests his poor brain might just explode from the pressure of all this conversation):<br /> i don't know.<br /><br />chris (with impressively straight face):<br /> have you tried printing to it?<br /><br />user (he's going to cry soon i can tell):<br /> no.<br /><br />chris (who can see where this is going and is slowly reaching for a <a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/LART">LART</a>):<br /> so why do you think you can't print to it?<br /><br />user (picking up on the "if you're being as dumb as i think you are i am going to be mildly withering" vibes, meekly, and with annoying <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/High_rising_terminal">AQI</a>.):<br /> because you're standing here?<br /><br />chris (admirably holding back the images of violence and office-based slaughter):<br /> i am doing some printing.<br /><br />grrr. twitch. grrrrAn Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8576261677439254183.post-88860710841600722192007-01-16T10:20:00.000+00:002007-01-16T11:59:23.332+00:00Puffin Chunks...mmm<object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kG3p5KHySMg"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kG3p5KHySMg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br /><br />today's post is really a thinly veiled and unnecessary attempt to boost BBC DVD sales. If you never heard 15 Storeys High on <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio4/">radio4</a>, then there was absolutely no chance of you having seen it on telly, due to the BBC's policy of hiding anything with an microgram of originality between repeats of FUCKING <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/comedy/coupling/">COUPLING</a> WITH JACK KILL-ME-NOW <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jack_Davenport">DAVENPORT</a> (this might not be it's real name - i forget) and programmes for schools.<br /><br />Apparently, the corporation in it's inestimable wisdom has finally scheduled both series to be released on the 19th Feb 07. which is lucky for them, cos what they don't know is my office window is the perfect sniper's nest for their building. so commissioning editors and schedulers beware. i am watching you. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeg30yZfNI868KEl5Pt-Qg4fwTK_mWfLPVKqm-INa2T9SUNuAxaboW34cjMlcaCPhKY8trk5bqhqVMsjblpGa9W9hniOI8XMfVUc3mWR6SaBJgAn-_I50e_rmtq8fr9-mENxg11TNacn9r/s1600-h/beeb.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeg30yZfNI868KEl5Pt-Qg4fwTK_mWfLPVKqm-INa2T9SUNuAxaboW34cjMlcaCPhKY8trk5bqhqVMsjblpGa9W9hniOI8XMfVUc3mWR6SaBJgAn-_I50e_rmtq8fr9-mENxg11TNacn9r/s320/beeb.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5020594261953245650" /></a><br /><br />and i have a can of blue rat to hand.An Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8576261677439254183.post-50101916437806294942007-01-15T11:12:00.000+00:002007-01-15T13:17:38.755+00:00time for an admissioni am about as far as you can get from the stereotypical image of the football-shirted, lager-spilling, monomaniacal sports fan as it is possible for me to get, without actively wearing a ball-gown with "i really hate sport" printed on it.<br /><br />my sporting prowess can be summed up in this photograph:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.brownlow-davies.com/albums/cricket/chris_batting.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.brownlow-davies.com/albums/cricket/chris_batting.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />which will have any of you familiar with the game of cricket crying into your MCC coaching manuals and casting aspersions about me "batting for the other side".<br /><br />i am fine with this. but i love sport. not just some sports, but sport. from late-night thai-boxing on espn to the UK Windsurfing Championships from Windermere. even sports i think are rubbish like golf. i love it.<br /><br />now this is something of an admission given H's attitude to sport (if it hates her - she's going to hate it right back). but it's the whole "triumph of human endeavour" thing that gets me every time.<br /><br />it doesn't matter if it's 2 OAP's trying get a lop-sided black orb marginally closer to small white ball than each other, or 2 teams of brain-dead jocks trying to get a ball into some brightly coloured advertising space at either end of a field. if it matters to them - it can matter to me.<br /><br />so it was with great pleasure, with H out of the house yesterday afternoon, that i sat down to indulge, my 2 guiltiest pleasures. yes, the 2 sports that other sports would push into a corner and laugh at with pointy fingers and would then have a heart-attack if they tried to run away: <a href="http://www.bdodarts.com/">darts</a> and <a href="http://www.worldsnooker.com/">snooker</a><br /><br />and was rewarded with an <a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/other_sports/snooker/6260923.stm">unbelievably</a> <a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/other_sports/darts/6261589.stm">exciting</a> afternoon's entertainment.<br /><br />H laughed at my joy. yes. i am that sad.An Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8576261677439254183.post-24687647276477914772007-01-13T18:21:00.000+00:002007-01-14T12:06:28.231+00:00and now, for my next trick....ahh, the safe paralysis of indecision. it's that difficult second post you see. which of a billion directions to take? and, instead of the tawdry scrabble for ideas that will doubtless characterise my 2000th post, my mind is leaping between options like a dubious, thin-faced fairground worker between tea-cups on a waltzer.<br /><br />initally my seething outrage at <a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk_politics/6254253.stm">this</a> <a href="http://www.number10.gov.uk/output/Page10735.asp">speech</a> by our dear <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/cartoons/stevebell/0,,1925906,00.html">leader</a> seemed like a good way to go, but was quickly discarded as too way too political/dull.<br /><br />then, a random conversation last night drew me towards the <a href="http://www.ukuleleorchestra.com/main/home.aspx">ukulele</a> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VXVdNKciP94">orchestra</a> of <a href="http://www.ukuleleorchestra.com/samples/Miss_Dynamitee.MP3">great</a> britain who are nowhere near as famous as people as witty and skillful as they are should be (even for a jokey covers act). but ultimately there's not much you can say apart from "check these guys out - they're skill" and i seem to have just done that. <br /><br />so i was forced to head on, deeper in to the tangenital recesses of my mind. which, duly came up with the fact that at some stage i need to do a meet the family post. but i'm enjoying the paper-thin sense of mystery for now and there's plenty of time for all that.<br /><br />then, salvation arrived in the form of <a href="http://www.adrian.tk/">adrian</a>, <a href="http://www.solveig.co.uk/">solveig</a> and, of course, the ever fashionable <a href="http://www.adrian.tk/gallery/freyja/freyja_1y_poncho">freyja</a>, who came over for lunch today and gave me plenty of tasty food for thought. H and I are not yet "babied up", but increasing numbers of our friends are (interestingly coinciding with them developing a hitherto unexplored interest in blogging) and this has inevitably led to some shifts in everyone's relationships. for years, the social currency of my friendships has been the drunken, rambling, late night conversation, often after a club or some such music-heavy, conversation-light entertainment. you know the sort of thing - somewhere between:<br /><br />"ish fickin great to see you, man. you're my mate, yeah. s'really good to see you."<br />(repeat ad infinitum, occasionally throwing in a reference to the previous night's music)<br /><br />and<br /><br />"i think what Perec was trying emphasise was the richness of human existance evident even within the banal, bourgeois, confines of a Paris apartment block, yer cnut"<br />(veer wildy between highbrow erudtion and scatological abuse)<br /><br />and then, once kids come along, you have to come up with a whole new set of social situations to get the love, admiration and sense of self-satifaction when ppl laugh at your jokes, you previously regarded as yours by right. cos babies and warehouse parties just don't mix. of course, the more organised ones amongst us started this process early and if you've actually got kids i think hormones and playgroups just take care of the whole thing for you.<br /><br />but, if you're a bit rubbish like me, it comes as a massive relief to remember that friendships forged in the white-hot crucible of the fashionable dance music scene are just as rewarding in the warm afterglow of a shared meal and a walk round the park with the little'un. ultimately, having children only puts time-constraints in the way of your friendships, it's not a brain-transplant or anything and that's something us smug, childless, dinkies would do well to remember.<br /><br />but if any of you tell me "of course, you've got all this to look forward to." i will have you fucking killed.<br /><br />which they didn't, and i love them for it.<br /><br />so there. that was pretty long for a second post and just in case you got bored halfway through, your reward is this mind-boggling fantasic clip, also from Jools Hollands show, that H insisted i put in:<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/s8-dorvHHz8"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/s8-dorvHHz8" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br /><br />thangyewvermuch, goodnight.An Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8576261677439254183.post-10094061145561337552007-01-11T17:21:00.000+00:002007-01-12T12:57:31.933+00:00well Chris, here are the keys to your shiny new blog...*click*<br /><br />hmmm. bit dark in here. still, once we've got the place decorated it'll be quite nice, i think. have to rip out all this naff 70's html tho. smells of chinese food and dog wee. i think ikea have got a formatting sale on. it'll look like everyone else's blog, but at least it's cheap and re-sale value is so important these days.<br /><br />anyway, hello. this is where it starts. bloggety-bloggety-blog-blog. it's been coming for a while, if i'm honest. if you can't beat 'em, bitch about them on your own blog that's what i say. there'll be tears, there'll be wry observations, there'll be coruscating satire, but for now there'll just be a cup of earl grey and some supper for the lovely H who'll be home soon and'll need sustenance. So i'll leave you with:<br /><br /><object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/od-BLV1pHjk"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/od-BLV1pHjk" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br /><br />which cheered me up no end when i found it the other day and say hello and goodnight.<br /><br />*click*<br /><br /><br />/me bangs his head on a headline banner on the way out.An Idiothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11473582343557372675noreply@blogger.com