There are loads of examples of halfwits and twats making stupid comments in the media. One almost expects a spokesperson to come up with a half-soaked contribution on the back of some or other incident. I have picked two completely pointless and pathetic quotes from the many that circulate, on very different topics.
A week ago we had a contribution to an article in the newspaper from Dr Paula Franklin. She is the medical director of the sexual health organisation Marie Stopes International. The article was on unwanted pregnancies, birth control and the spread of infections - lovely reading then! Her marvellous contribution was not quite the revelation that it could have been. The glimpse of the blinding obvious we got was:
"If you have sex without a condom and you are not using any other form of contraception, you run the risk of catching an STI and/or getting pregnant."
Well, Ave Maria, and fuck me! You patronising and pointless individual; you really are earning your money, aren't you!
On Saturday, we received information on an apparent crackdown that's about to get underway. Yes, the Office of Fair Trading is launching a probe (into space, I wonder?). The target of its various attentions is the approach adopted by loan firms, which are charging a lot for their services. This so called 'crackdown' is hardly a progressive step - it's not like these companies aren't known to us all. There are 'concerns' that people are given loans without proper checks, and that debts are allowed to roll over. Get real, you twats! We all know the score, and interest rates are amazing. A check of the costs for borrowing £100 for ten days revealed the following interest applicable:
1 - Peachy.co.uk 16,381%
2 - Capital Finance 5,410%
3 - Txt Loan 4,474%
4 - Wonga 4,214%
5 - Ferratum 3,113%
Now, I reckon these APR levels are extortionate, and you'd have to be a thick cunt not to agree. These companies love it when people get into difficulties and need money from them; they are licensed to rip off the needy. Bring on David Fisher, OFT director of consumer credit, who said:
"We are concerned that some payday lenders are taking advantage of people in financial difficulty."
You pointless arse - where have you been hiding for the last couple of years while these companies have been lining their pockets, and spreading their tentacles?
...
Tuesday 28 February 2012
Monday 27 February 2012
27.2.12 Twenty Random Questions and General Pondering
1 - Who was it who came up with the wonderful product name and strapline? I saw an advert last week on TV, for Vagisil - fast relief from feminine itching
2 - If Wayne Rooney was so desperate to get his hair to grow, and spent a fortune on a complicated transplant treatment, why has he upon arrival of hair on top, proceeded to shave the sides of his head?
3 - If Walkers now sells crisps in multipacks of 6 with a big question mark on the packaging, to denote that two of the packs within are of a mystery flavour, should the packaging not also be marked with the http://www.gambleaware.co.uk/ details, to support the gambling on 1/3 of the contents being inedible?
4 - On the Jonathan Ross Show, I saw within the end credits, mention of someone whose job title is "Head of Talent". What the fuck is all that about, and what does the person actually do?
5 - On what date did it become illegal for pundits, commentators and presenters to avoid use of the words "in a row", "on the trot" and "consecutively", in favour of either "on the bounce" or "on the spin"?
6 - Which cunt came up with "Threevolution" as used in the new advert for Ambi Pur, and the plug-in [fucking fire hazard] contraption with three scents?
7 - Can Andy Townsend stop using the term 'tempo' without understanding its meaning, because saying "the game's got tempo" is like saying I've got body temperature!
8 - How the fuck did Subway get to be the sponsor of the Biggest Loser on ITV? This fodder is far from healthy, as proven by numerous surveys, and it's a joke that someone looking to lose weight and become more healthy is doing so "in association with" (as the advertising bollocks goes) Subway.
9 - Calling those who campaign for the rights of women who want to express milk pictorially (those currently ranting about Facebook's ban on such images) as "Lactivists" is in poor taste, and all rather hippy-like.
10 - Why is Regaine For Men in need of the 'e' at the end of Regain?
11 - Has anyone measured the strength of the average ox, and thus determined whether it's a suitable unit to apply to those apparently as strong as one?
12 - Could some or other fucker on television please provide the results of an elimination contest in some fucking order rather than no particular one, for a change!
13 - Does anything ever happen that isn't in daylight that is of a "broad" nature?
14 - Why the fuck do we need a 'Health Lottery' when we have the National Lottery? It just means the prize money is spread out in more areas, so it's less of an incentive to participate, and anything that is paid for by the Health Lottery is a saving for the government!
15 - Why on earth is it the responsibility of supermarkets to pay for all sorts of cuntin' crap for schools, rather than the government's? As a follow on question - "Why am I looked at as a raving lunatic and heathen by a checkout operator, when I say I'm not collecting the vouchers for schools!
16 - Why do fizzy drinks manufacturers think that they need to endorse the dispensation of vouchers via supermarkets to turn run-down areas into skateboard parks?
17 - Christine Bleakley - why?
18 - Is there any link between smoking and Olay, bearing in mind that Invisipatches apparently tackle seven symptoms of giving up smoking (including moods swings and irritability) while Olay claims to have seven age-defying effects?
19 - Why is Bulmers Original in need of its second word, as a brand name? Surely Bulmers Fake or Bulmers Good Copy But Not The Real Thing is unlikely as an alternative, so we don't need to be told the fucking obvious (?)
20 - Why are there on sale so many supposed 3-seater sofas which have just two cushions?
...
2 - If Wayne Rooney was so desperate to get his hair to grow, and spent a fortune on a complicated transplant treatment, why has he upon arrival of hair on top, proceeded to shave the sides of his head?
3 - If Walkers now sells crisps in multipacks of 6 with a big question mark on the packaging, to denote that two of the packs within are of a mystery flavour, should the packaging not also be marked with the http://www.gambleaware.co.uk/ details, to support the gambling on 1/3 of the contents being inedible?
4 - On the Jonathan Ross Show, I saw within the end credits, mention of someone whose job title is "Head of Talent". What the fuck is all that about, and what does the person actually do?
5 - On what date did it become illegal for pundits, commentators and presenters to avoid use of the words "in a row", "on the trot" and "consecutively", in favour of either "on the bounce" or "on the spin"?
6 - Which cunt came up with "Threevolution" as used in the new advert for Ambi Pur, and the plug-in [fucking fire hazard] contraption with three scents?
7 - Can Andy Townsend stop using the term 'tempo' without understanding its meaning, because saying "the game's got tempo" is like saying I've got body temperature!
8 - How the fuck did Subway get to be the sponsor of the Biggest Loser on ITV? This fodder is far from healthy, as proven by numerous surveys, and it's a joke that someone looking to lose weight and become more healthy is doing so "in association with" (as the advertising bollocks goes) Subway.
9 - Calling those who campaign for the rights of women who want to express milk pictorially (those currently ranting about Facebook's ban on such images) as "Lactivists" is in poor taste, and all rather hippy-like.
10 - Why is Regaine For Men in need of the 'e' at the end of Regain?
11 - Has anyone measured the strength of the average ox, and thus determined whether it's a suitable unit to apply to those apparently as strong as one?
12 - Could some or other fucker on television please provide the results of an elimination contest in some fucking order rather than no particular one, for a change!
13 - Does anything ever happen that isn't in daylight that is of a "broad" nature?
14 - Why the fuck do we need a 'Health Lottery' when we have the National Lottery? It just means the prize money is spread out in more areas, so it's less of an incentive to participate, and anything that is paid for by the Health Lottery is a saving for the government!
15 - Why on earth is it the responsibility of supermarkets to pay for all sorts of cuntin' crap for schools, rather than the government's? As a follow on question - "Why am I looked at as a raving lunatic and heathen by a checkout operator, when I say I'm not collecting the vouchers for schools!
16 - Why do fizzy drinks manufacturers think that they need to endorse the dispensation of vouchers via supermarkets to turn run-down areas into skateboard parks?
17 - Christine Bleakley - why?
18 - Is there any link between smoking and Olay, bearing in mind that Invisipatches apparently tackle seven symptoms of giving up smoking (including moods swings and irritability) while Olay claims to have seven age-defying effects?
19 - Why is Bulmers Original in need of its second word, as a brand name? Surely Bulmers Fake or Bulmers Good Copy But Not The Real Thing is unlikely as an alternative, so we don't need to be told the fucking obvious (?)
20 - Why are there on sale so many supposed 3-seater sofas which have just two cushions?
...
27.2.12 This Country Is Screwed
Is there a limit on how fucking useless the establishment can be? "No" is the answer. Week by week, layer by layer, we discover how absolutely fucking useless the UK is at managing itself. Politicians are complete dimwits, most self-serving, and all are useless at having any effect whatsoever on the challenges that face the country. Institutions and systems are utterly fucked.
Just over a week ago, I read how the police were involved in providing an escort for a massive caravan that was being delivered to an illegal site in the South Downs National Park. Yes, the police have been instrumental in helping "travellers" (an ironic name considering the avoidance of actual travelling for most of those so described) take an oversized caravan through residential street in West Sussex, after sending out warning notices to car owners about causing an obstruction! How can it be right that we are condoning the breaking of rules by assisting those intent on ignoring them? This country is fucking screwed.
Next, we find that the courts are equally fucked up. Romanian gypsy families have apparently conned the country out of over £800,000 by claiming benefits to which they were not entitled, flying in on cheap airline tickets to make the fraudulent claims. Having been caught, the guilty were ordered by the UK courts to repay some of the money. How much? I will tell you, but first ask that you sit down because the level of repayment is astounding.
Ramona managed to rake in £81,000 but was ordered to pay back £16.65. Dorina was ordered to pay back £1 against a fraudulent haul of £101,000. This country is fucking screwed.
Justice is totally absent from the UK, in some parts of the country. Take the following as an example of the completely useless system, and judges who are also useless cunts. In today's paper we learn of a thug who has walked free despite having 382 previous convictions! He has been convicted of his 383rd offence and guess what . . . . . he is still free. This CUNT-ry is fucking screwed!
The Sun has today decided that the most pressing story, one which warrants 90% of its front page and a further double page spread on pages 4 and 5, is about Amanda Holden, who has decided she does not want any more children. Okay, she recently had a very scary experience, but come on! This country is fucking screwed.
Two-and-a-half years after it was finished, a cancer unit costing taxpayers £1.5million remains shut. Apparently the running costs were too high for the facility to actually become operational! I am completely dumbfounded and appalled. This cuntin' country is fuckin' screwed.
...
Just over a week ago, I read how the police were involved in providing an escort for a massive caravan that was being delivered to an illegal site in the South Downs National Park. Yes, the police have been instrumental in helping "travellers" (an ironic name considering the avoidance of actual travelling for most of those so described) take an oversized caravan through residential street in West Sussex, after sending out warning notices to car owners about causing an obstruction! How can it be right that we are condoning the breaking of rules by assisting those intent on ignoring them? This country is fucking screwed.
Next, we find that the courts are equally fucked up. Romanian gypsy families have apparently conned the country out of over £800,000 by claiming benefits to which they were not entitled, flying in on cheap airline tickets to make the fraudulent claims. Having been caught, the guilty were ordered by the UK courts to repay some of the money. How much? I will tell you, but first ask that you sit down because the level of repayment is astounding.
Ramona managed to rake in £81,000 but was ordered to pay back £16.65. Dorina was ordered to pay back £1 against a fraudulent haul of £101,000. This country is fucking screwed.
Justice is totally absent from the UK, in some parts of the country. Take the following as an example of the completely useless system, and judges who are also useless cunts. In today's paper we learn of a thug who has walked free despite having 382 previous convictions! He has been convicted of his 383rd offence and guess what . . . . . he is still free. This CUNT-ry is fucking screwed!
The Sun has today decided that the most pressing story, one which warrants 90% of its front page and a further double page spread on pages 4 and 5, is about Amanda Holden, who has decided she does not want any more children. Okay, she recently had a very scary experience, but come on! This country is fucking screwed.
Two-and-a-half years after it was finished, a cancer unit costing taxpayers £1.5million remains shut. Apparently the running costs were too high for the facility to actually become operational! I am completely dumbfounded and appalled. This cuntin' country is fuckin' screwed.
...
Sunday 26 February 2012
26 2.12 Cardiff v Liverpool
A thoroughly entertaining game, and filled with drama. I was hoping Cardiff (as the underdog) would triumph, and was pleased to see it almost come off. What struck me about the first Liverpool goal, bringing the score to 1 - 1 was the ugliness about the participants. The second ugliest Premier League player (Suarez) hit the post, and the rebound was knocked in by the third ugliest player in the Premier League (Skrtel). After Kuyt's goal, the Cardiff equaliser two minutes from time, to force extra time, was fantastic.
The performance by the various penalty kick takers was dire, and so the result could have gone either way. I find it mad that Cardiff missed three where the ball hit the post (on two) and completely missed on another. Professional footballers get paid loads to kick a ball. To place it 12 yards from the goal, and then be unable to kick it so that it goes somewhere between two posts that are 24ft apart is shite.
Anyway, at least these two teams each had a massive contingent of players from the home leagues. I was amazed earlier in the week when the commentator on a Champions League match referred to Inter Milan as "the Italians" when there was not a single Italian amongst the starting eleven!
[NB: The ugliest player is of course Carlos Tevez]
...
The performance by the various penalty kick takers was dire, and so the result could have gone either way. I find it mad that Cardiff missed three where the ball hit the post (on two) and completely missed on another. Professional footballers get paid loads to kick a ball. To place it 12 yards from the goal, and then be unable to kick it so that it goes somewhere between two posts that are 24ft apart is shite.
Anyway, at least these two teams each had a massive contingent of players from the home leagues. I was amazed earlier in the week when the commentator on a Champions League match referred to Inter Milan as "the Italians" when there was not a single Italian amongst the starting eleven!
[NB: The ugliest player is of course Carlos Tevez]
...
26.2.12 Chip Week
Did anyone know it was 'Chip Week' from 20th February until today? I must confess that the existence of Chip Week was unknown to me until I saw in Friday's newspaper ['Fryday' as it was referred to by the Sun] along with an offer of, and I quote, "Free Chips for Every Reader".
Actually, this was a gross misrepresentation of the offer, as a quick look at the terms and conditions revealed. Apparently, the offer was available to UK residents aged 16+. Now, in my opinion that does not at all include every reader. This is quite clearly bollocks on various counts:
1 - Are we supposed to believe that there are weird legal reasons for the offer of a free bag of chips being available only to those aged 16 and over? What possible issue could there be in allowing younger readers to benefit?
2 - Considering the reading age of the Sun is in fact no more than 14, it is baffling why everyone who reads the comic is adopting a 14-year-old's abilities and outlook, but is then denied chips for their efforts. Surely this gives rather more reason to give readers a taste of what a typical 14-year-old might like to eat - some chips.
3 - There is further gross misrepresentation, as the offer is completely flawed. A free bag for every reader is not at all the offer. In fact, the availability of free chips, aside from the age restriction, is limited to purchasers/owners of newspapers who retain all rights to it and decide to remove the coupon in order to present it at the chip shop. A 'subsequent reader' of the comic would see a space in the paper on page 29 where the coupon once was. With the terms and conditions clearly barring all photocopies, the only way to get chips means owning a copy of the paper; reading it is simply not enough to qualify, whatever the claims made by the heading.
4 - Are we to assume that chip shops (participating ones, at least, but more of that in a moment) will be contesting their obligations to offer a free bag of chips in exchange for a coupon? I am certain that with the offer being available to those aged 16+, there will be instances where refusals to serve have come about through lack of ID. It is a sad cuntin' day when to get some chips, a youthful (or youthful looking) person has to carry ID for potatoes! What is the policy, though, at chip shop level? Does a check of age come about for all those who don't look 25? This is the general rule for other so-called 'restricted' items. If one has to be 16 to buy a lottery tickets, then I suppose there's some parity between the two transactions and requirements, but gambling is a bit more serious than chip-eating, surely? I have seen the 'gamble-aware' website being promoted a lot, but I've not yet seen http://www.chipaware.co.uk/
5 - The portion of chips available (if indeed one is made available) is classed as "small". I have no idea what that is, not least because every cunt in the catering industry does not recognise such a size, albeit this size most definitely should be recognised. No, the once perfectly acceptable denominations of small, medium and large have been superseded (or should that be supersized?) so that we now have to operate within environments that provide stuff in formats and quantities under the headings of regular, medium, large, extra large and super size. So just how many chips would one (small) coupon qualify the bearer for, if he/she were over 16, living in the UK (but not Northern Ireland??) and standing in a participating chip shop, making sure that the coupon was not in any way defaced, amended, altered or damaged? I have less idea on the answer to that than I have an idea on the difference between 'altered' and 'amended', as declared in the terms and conditions, regarding the state of any coupon.
6 - The coupon has on it "Free Bag of Chips". I therefore see little point in the terms and conditions stating that the coupon cannot be used against beverages or any other food available.
So, there you have it, a pretty flawed offer. I had no inclination to go on to the stated website to check on which chip shops in the area might be 'participating'. In my neck of the woods, retailers would not engage with technology. The terms state that chip shops can refuse entry or service at their sole discretion [the pun was probably not even recognised by the person drawing up the conditions, let alone intended]. In this area, even a shop participating is likely to suit itself and tell you to piss off rather than serve you.
In summary, I did not cut out the coupon, and was puzzled as to why it appeared in the paper on Friday, denying those who might be keen to eat chips earlier in the week. It's not as if there's a mad rush for chips on a Friday only, and I suspect some twat got muddled up with the demands placed on the industry by the three-dozen remaining Catholics in the UK (excluding Northern Ireland) who still eat fish on Fridays, though who knows how many chips may or may not accompany a portion of sole. It is now Sunday and just passing the 3.00pm mark. The coupon runs out today, and I feel I have perhaps overlooked an opportunity to hand my unused (undefaced, unaltered, unamended, undamaged and original) coupon to a Sun reader who may not have owned the paper, and found the coupon missing in his/her borrowed copy of the paper. Oh well.
I will mention just one more thing - the introduction which rather 'talks up' the whole thing.
Tuck in to some FREE chips courtesy of The Sun. To celebrate Chip Week (February 20-26) we are offering readers a portion of the nation's favourite potato preparation. For your mouth-watering bag of chips, cut out the voucher on the right and take it to your nearest participating chippy.
It seems as if I should have included a point number seven above, as I had no idea that the coupon was to be presented to my nearest chippy. I will now have to consider whether those wanting chips ought to have three utility bills with them to confirm residence and allow the chip shop owner to check on Google Earth whether his or her establishment can be classified as the 'nearest' and thus avoid abuse of the offer. As for the blurb itself, "favourite potato preparation" ??? !!! Ha!
...
Actually, this was a gross misrepresentation of the offer, as a quick look at the terms and conditions revealed. Apparently, the offer was available to UK residents aged 16+. Now, in my opinion that does not at all include every reader. This is quite clearly bollocks on various counts:
1 - Are we supposed to believe that there are weird legal reasons for the offer of a free bag of chips being available only to those aged 16 and over? What possible issue could there be in allowing younger readers to benefit?
2 - Considering the reading age of the Sun is in fact no more than 14, it is baffling why everyone who reads the comic is adopting a 14-year-old's abilities and outlook, but is then denied chips for their efforts. Surely this gives rather more reason to give readers a taste of what a typical 14-year-old might like to eat - some chips.
3 - There is further gross misrepresentation, as the offer is completely flawed. A free bag for every reader is not at all the offer. In fact, the availability of free chips, aside from the age restriction, is limited to purchasers/owners of newspapers who retain all rights to it and decide to remove the coupon in order to present it at the chip shop. A 'subsequent reader' of the comic would see a space in the paper on page 29 where the coupon once was. With the terms and conditions clearly barring all photocopies, the only way to get chips means owning a copy of the paper; reading it is simply not enough to qualify, whatever the claims made by the heading.
4 - Are we to assume that chip shops (participating ones, at least, but more of that in a moment) will be contesting their obligations to offer a free bag of chips in exchange for a coupon? I am certain that with the offer being available to those aged 16+, there will be instances where refusals to serve have come about through lack of ID. It is a sad cuntin' day when to get some chips, a youthful (or youthful looking) person has to carry ID for potatoes! What is the policy, though, at chip shop level? Does a check of age come about for all those who don't look 25? This is the general rule for other so-called 'restricted' items. If one has to be 16 to buy a lottery tickets, then I suppose there's some parity between the two transactions and requirements, but gambling is a bit more serious than chip-eating, surely? I have seen the 'gamble-aware' website being promoted a lot, but I've not yet seen http://www.chipaware.co.uk/
5 - The portion of chips available (if indeed one is made available) is classed as "small". I have no idea what that is, not least because every cunt in the catering industry does not recognise such a size, albeit this size most definitely should be recognised. No, the once perfectly acceptable denominations of small, medium and large have been superseded (or should that be supersized?) so that we now have to operate within environments that provide stuff in formats and quantities under the headings of regular, medium, large, extra large and super size. So just how many chips would one (small) coupon qualify the bearer for, if he/she were over 16, living in the UK (but not Northern Ireland??) and standing in a participating chip shop, making sure that the coupon was not in any way defaced, amended, altered or damaged? I have less idea on the answer to that than I have an idea on the difference between 'altered' and 'amended', as declared in the terms and conditions, regarding the state of any coupon.
6 - The coupon has on it "Free Bag of Chips". I therefore see little point in the terms and conditions stating that the coupon cannot be used against beverages or any other food available.
So, there you have it, a pretty flawed offer. I had no inclination to go on to the stated website to check on which chip shops in the area might be 'participating'. In my neck of the woods, retailers would not engage with technology. The terms state that chip shops can refuse entry or service at their sole discretion [the pun was probably not even recognised by the person drawing up the conditions, let alone intended]. In this area, even a shop participating is likely to suit itself and tell you to piss off rather than serve you.
In summary, I did not cut out the coupon, and was puzzled as to why it appeared in the paper on Friday, denying those who might be keen to eat chips earlier in the week. It's not as if there's a mad rush for chips on a Friday only, and I suspect some twat got muddled up with the demands placed on the industry by the three-dozen remaining Catholics in the UK (excluding Northern Ireland) who still eat fish on Fridays, though who knows how many chips may or may not accompany a portion of sole. It is now Sunday and just passing the 3.00pm mark. The coupon runs out today, and I feel I have perhaps overlooked an opportunity to hand my unused (undefaced, unaltered, unamended, undamaged and original) coupon to a Sun reader who may not have owned the paper, and found the coupon missing in his/her borrowed copy of the paper. Oh well.
I will mention just one more thing - the introduction which rather 'talks up' the whole thing.
Tuck in to some FREE chips courtesy of The Sun. To celebrate Chip Week (February 20-26) we are offering readers a portion of the nation's favourite potato preparation. For your mouth-watering bag of chips, cut out the voucher on the right and take it to your nearest participating chippy.
It seems as if I should have included a point number seven above, as I had no idea that the coupon was to be presented to my nearest chippy. I will now have to consider whether those wanting chips ought to have three utility bills with them to confirm residence and allow the chip shop owner to check on Google Earth whether his or her establishment can be classified as the 'nearest' and thus avoid abuse of the offer. As for the blurb itself, "favourite potato preparation" ??? !!! Ha!
...
Friday 24 February 2012
24.2.12 Herman The German
I left the house yesterday for a total of ten minutes, and between 5.41pm and 5.51pm I managed to:
1 - Become infuriated at the Co-op / Cunt-op, queuing to pay for a newspaper. What should have been a simple and speedy transaction was delayed by the cunts who need to queue at the kiosk rather than the main till, on the basis that they need a lottery ticket or scratchcard, or a mobile phone top-up via the Paypoint Till. So, while cuntin' Maud pissed about, I had to wait ages for my paper to be scanned before I was allowed to leave the exact money for the paper. Cuntin' Co-op.
2 - Miss a phone call that I could have received at any time in the whole day, but it arrived in the 10 minutes I was out.
3 - Miss a visit (as rare as an active clit in a nunnery) from my neighbour.
The neighbour's fleeting visit was one with very good intentions, as I discovered upon my return. On the worktop in the kitchen was a small container akin to that in which a portion of rice might arrive from a Chinese takeaway. However, the container contained (for that is what it was designed to do) a strange looking mixture.
I was perplexed until Junior MWSC showed me a sheet of paper which was delivered along with the container of whatever it was (I considered tapioca, flour and water - ie. glue - and old porridge as contenders) and I was intrigued. My intrigue did not last very long, but it was certainly there for a few minutes as I read the A4 sheet, starting with the main heading -
Herman The German Friendship Cake
The opening statement was amusing, and I realised that the substance (and thus the author of this note) was animate (with the name of Herman) despite being a weird substance in a tub.
Hello, my name is Herman.
I am a sourdough cake. I'm supposed to sit on your worktop for 10 days without a lid on. You CANNOT put me in the fridge or I will die. If I stop bubbling, I am dead.
Now, as opening gambits go, this was fairly forthright. I felt suitably told, and was somewhat relieved to find that Junior has placed Herman on the worktop - the exact place Herman dictated that he ought to live. I'd never been instructed by a sourdough cake before, and was not at all sure what the fuck a sourdough cake was - and a day later I am still none the wiser. I do however have the feeling that I would not like the taste one little bit. The next section on the sheet detailed what was to happen over a nine day period. In some ways, it was like reading a ransom note.
Day 1: Put me in a large mixing bowl and cover loosely with a tea towel.
Day 2: Stir well
Day 3: Stir well
Day 4: Herman is hungry. Add 1 cup each of plain flour, sugar and milk. Stir well.
Day 5: Stir well
Day 6: Stir well
Day 7: Stir well
Day 8: Stir well
Day 9: Add the same as day 4 and stir well. Divide into 4 equal portions and give away to friends with a copy of these instructions. Keep the fourth portion.
Now, this schedule was to my mind quite onerous. I was now being told I'd need to supply flour, sugar and milk on days 4 and 9, and do a lot of stirring. To what end? So that I can divide by four and give three-quarters away to other people. This raised an issue; I know not of three people to whom I could hand over a dollop of splodge, and don't have three disposable containers to contain dollops of splodge to give away (or is that force upon targets in the guise of friendship?). Further, I decided that it was a lot of effort to go to, when the end result was no advancement in the cake-making department, but simply a process to increase the mass of the stodge before apportioning it to other parties. So, at this stage, short of friends, containers, a will to introduce ingredients, enthusiasm or a like of something called 'sourdough cake', I was less than enthusiastic.
The next part was worrying; especially so, considering the narrator of this guide was a cuntin' cake!
Day 10: Now you are ready to make the cake. Stir well and add the following:
I stood in the kitchen. leaning on the worktop, looking at Herman, thinking - 'Cunt'.
I read the final paragraph, and struggled to comprehend the utter madness that had arrived between 5.41pm and 5.51pm that evening.
Mix everything together and put into a large greased baking tin. Sprinkle with a quarter of a cup of brown sugar and a quarter of a cup of melted butter. Bake for 45 minutes at 170-180C. When cold, cut into finger pieces. The cake freezes well and is also delicious warm with cream or ice cream.
What the fuck - I stood no chance. No butter to melt (we use Clover) and no brown sugar in the house. My cooker has no way of knowing (let alone advising) whether it's at 170 or 180 degrees; instead, I have just 5 settings: Cold/Off; warm; hot; fucking hot; cuntin' fan-fuckin'-assisted hot! I was not sure whether the "when cold" instruction referred to me or the cake, as a prerequisite to cutting into fingers. This Herman geezer was turning out to be fucking hard work, in my humble cuntin' opinion.
I looked at the cost. Excluding the cost of the gas for cooking, I reckoned on about £4 plus a cup-full of inconvenience. Then I'd need cream or ice cream as well. Herman was pissing me off.
The gesture from the neighbours was lovely, but having been out during the time of Herman's arrival, I feel I have a reason to claim a strange dis-association from the chain-letter style approach that Herman has got people working to. Today, which was Day 1, Herman has not been residing in a large mixing bowl, and tea towels are nowhere near him. He has struggled a bit, in the takeaway tub (albeit without a lid) and has gurgled quietly. The slight bubbling has served to increase his mass slightly, but I have stunted his growth. I am now faced with the task of disposing of Herman.
I have considered a few things today:
1 - I have no idea whether I even like sourdough cake
2 - I have every reason to believe I won't fuckin' like sourdough cake
3 - I am fucked if I'm producing any sourdough cake, let alone sharing with three other cunts
4 - I cannot be bothered, nor do I have the ingredients
5 - If I want sourdough cake, I'll go and buy some
6 - Who created this complete bollocks of a way to waste time and money?
7 - If I bin it now, will it keep growing before bin collection day, next Friday?
8 - What do I say to the neighbour?
This is a mixture of shit, money, friendship, blackmail, bollocks, chain letters, embarrassment, cookery, coercion, madness, glue, cake, tapioca, containers, tea towels, cuntin' annoyance, worktops and flour!
Sorry, Herman - no offence, but this cake lark is shite!
...
1 - Become infuriated at the Co-op / Cunt-op, queuing to pay for a newspaper. What should have been a simple and speedy transaction was delayed by the cunts who need to queue at the kiosk rather than the main till, on the basis that they need a lottery ticket or scratchcard, or a mobile phone top-up via the Paypoint Till. So, while cuntin' Maud pissed about, I had to wait ages for my paper to be scanned before I was allowed to leave the exact money for the paper. Cuntin' Co-op.
2 - Miss a phone call that I could have received at any time in the whole day, but it arrived in the 10 minutes I was out.
3 - Miss a visit (as rare as an active clit in a nunnery) from my neighbour.
The neighbour's fleeting visit was one with very good intentions, as I discovered upon my return. On the worktop in the kitchen was a small container akin to that in which a portion of rice might arrive from a Chinese takeaway. However, the container contained (for that is what it was designed to do) a strange looking mixture.
I was perplexed until Junior MWSC showed me a sheet of paper which was delivered along with the container of whatever it was (I considered tapioca, flour and water - ie. glue - and old porridge as contenders) and I was intrigued. My intrigue did not last very long, but it was certainly there for a few minutes as I read the A4 sheet, starting with the main heading -
Herman The German Friendship Cake
The opening statement was amusing, and I realised that the substance (and thus the author of this note) was animate (with the name of Herman) despite being a weird substance in a tub.
Hello, my name is Herman.
I am a sourdough cake. I'm supposed to sit on your worktop for 10 days without a lid on. You CANNOT put me in the fridge or I will die. If I stop bubbling, I am dead.
Now, as opening gambits go, this was fairly forthright. I felt suitably told, and was somewhat relieved to find that Junior has placed Herman on the worktop - the exact place Herman dictated that he ought to live. I'd never been instructed by a sourdough cake before, and was not at all sure what the fuck a sourdough cake was - and a day later I am still none the wiser. I do however have the feeling that I would not like the taste one little bit. The next section on the sheet detailed what was to happen over a nine day period. In some ways, it was like reading a ransom note.
Day 1: Put me in a large mixing bowl and cover loosely with a tea towel.
Day 2: Stir well
Day 3: Stir well
Day 4: Herman is hungry. Add 1 cup each of plain flour, sugar and milk. Stir well.
Day 5: Stir well
Day 6: Stir well
Day 7: Stir well
Day 8: Stir well
Day 9: Add the same as day 4 and stir well. Divide into 4 equal portions and give away to friends with a copy of these instructions. Keep the fourth portion.
Now, this schedule was to my mind quite onerous. I was now being told I'd need to supply flour, sugar and milk on days 4 and 9, and do a lot of stirring. To what end? So that I can divide by four and give three-quarters away to other people. This raised an issue; I know not of three people to whom I could hand over a dollop of splodge, and don't have three disposable containers to contain dollops of splodge to give away (or is that force upon targets in the guise of friendship?). Further, I decided that it was a lot of effort to go to, when the end result was no advancement in the cake-making department, but simply a process to increase the mass of the stodge before apportioning it to other parties. So, at this stage, short of friends, containers, a will to introduce ingredients, enthusiasm or a like of something called 'sourdough cake', I was less than enthusiastic.
The next part was worrying; especially so, considering the narrator of this guide was a cuntin' cake!
Day 10: Now you are ready to make the cake. Stir well and add the following:
- 1 cup sugar
- half teaspoon salt
- 2 cups plain flour
- Two thirds cup of cooking oil
- 2 eggs
- 2 teaspoons vanilla essence
- 2 cooking apples cut into chunks
- 1 cup raisins
- 2 heaped teaspoons cinnamon
- 2 heaped teaspoons baking powder
I stood in the kitchen. leaning on the worktop, looking at Herman, thinking - 'Cunt'.
I read the final paragraph, and struggled to comprehend the utter madness that had arrived between 5.41pm and 5.51pm that evening.
Mix everything together and put into a large greased baking tin. Sprinkle with a quarter of a cup of brown sugar and a quarter of a cup of melted butter. Bake for 45 minutes at 170-180C. When cold, cut into finger pieces. The cake freezes well and is also delicious warm with cream or ice cream.
What the fuck - I stood no chance. No butter to melt (we use Clover) and no brown sugar in the house. My cooker has no way of knowing (let alone advising) whether it's at 170 or 180 degrees; instead, I have just 5 settings: Cold/Off; warm; hot; fucking hot; cuntin' fan-fuckin'-assisted hot! I was not sure whether the "when cold" instruction referred to me or the cake, as a prerequisite to cutting into fingers. This Herman geezer was turning out to be fucking hard work, in my humble cuntin' opinion.
I looked at the cost. Excluding the cost of the gas for cooking, I reckoned on about £4 plus a cup-full of inconvenience. Then I'd need cream or ice cream as well. Herman was pissing me off.
The gesture from the neighbours was lovely, but having been out during the time of Herman's arrival, I feel I have a reason to claim a strange dis-association from the chain-letter style approach that Herman has got people working to. Today, which was Day 1, Herman has not been residing in a large mixing bowl, and tea towels are nowhere near him. He has struggled a bit, in the takeaway tub (albeit without a lid) and has gurgled quietly. The slight bubbling has served to increase his mass slightly, but I have stunted his growth. I am now faced with the task of disposing of Herman.
I have considered a few things today:
1 - I have no idea whether I even like sourdough cake
2 - I have every reason to believe I won't fuckin' like sourdough cake
3 - I am fucked if I'm producing any sourdough cake, let alone sharing with three other cunts
4 - I cannot be bothered, nor do I have the ingredients
5 - If I want sourdough cake, I'll go and buy some
6 - Who created this complete bollocks of a way to waste time and money?
7 - If I bin it now, will it keep growing before bin collection day, next Friday?
8 - What do I say to the neighbour?
This is a mixture of shit, money, friendship, blackmail, bollocks, chain letters, embarrassment, cookery, coercion, madness, glue, cake, tapioca, containers, tea towels, cuntin' annoyance, worktops and flour!
Sorry, Herman - no offence, but this cake lark is shite!
...
24.2.12 The Brits - Epilogue
Well, what a farce, then. Upon reflection, there seems to have been little that either went properly or successfully, with various parties being dissatisfied. In no particular order (as per the mind-numbing fucking cliché that prevails in this century) I will highlight some of the 'issues'.
Adele is furious with the organisers, because having won what is considered to be pretty much the best award, for her album 21, she was denied the opportunity of giving proper acknowledgement to those who mattered to her. So, in the USA she picked up six Grammy Awards, won significant praise, and was allowed to thank whomever she wanted, but in the UK she was cut short! Yes, after fifteen seconds, she was cut off so that the viewing public could listen to some old shit from Blur. Now, as per my earlier blog post, I switched channels after the first of the two hours, not least because the padding on the Brit Awards was dire. It was really more of a set of performances from singers and bands, with a couple of gongs handed out whilst everyone was gathered together. Yes, the priority of the night should have been the awards . . . . the clue is in the cuntin' name!!! So the producers told the compere to cut off Adele because the programme was overrunning. Earlier shit had in effect taken away time needed for something that was the fucking reason for the event in the first place! Adele sticks up a finger at the CIC and I for one don't blame her one bit. What a fuck-up.
James Corden is apparently fuming too, after being asked to cut off Adele's acceptance speech. He delayed for fifteen seconds, but had little choice. He is amazed that he was put in such an awful position. So, he is far from happy and this has taken all the shine off the event. The CIC had no organisational skills, seeing as they did not ask James to step in and cut off a rambling speech by Damon Albarn. What a fuck-up.
Emeli Sande is not at all happy, after her success was belittled by the CIC. She won the Critics' Choice Award but again, as there were supposed pressures to do with the TV timing and schedule, she found herself not getting the proper acknowledgement. Instead of time on camera, her special moment was stolen, and James Corden instead interviewed last year's winner, Jessie J, about the award. What a cuntin' fuck-up and disgrace.
One Direction managed to fuck up while accepting the Best Single award. Listeners of Capital FM had wasted time and money voting for this rabble, but in accepting the gong, the band chose to thank the listeners of Radio 1 instead. I don't blame Capital FM for responding with a snub, refusing to mention the band's tour dates and not playing the band's songs. What a pathetic lack of awareness, to be so ignorant of the award they were in the running for. Surely one of the five schoolkids could have fired up a brain cell to clock that they were in with a chance of an award. Now, I know that multiple choice questions usually have four alternatives from which to choose, and that there were more Brit Awards on offer, but surely one of them would realise the odds were not that bad. A simple process of elimination might have gone like this -
International Female Artist - no, that can't be us, we're not quite feminine enough.
International Male Artist - no, cos five of us try to sing, not one.
International Group - no, we don't play instruments, and we're not foreign.
International Breakthrough Act - No, we're from here, not abroad where we go for holidays.
Album of the Year - Can't be us; someone only released ours in November.
Critics' Choice - No, we don't want to be criticised; we've only just started singing.
Outstanding Contribution - but we haven't contributed anything, let alone been outstanding.
British Male - Nope, too many of us, even though we're going in one direction (ha, geddit?)
British Female - Nope, five is too many.
British Breakthrough Act - Hey, that might be us!
British Single - And that one; that's two all together.
British Group - Now that's three we could be in the running for!
So out of the 12 awards, One Direction could only ever have qualified for three. When selected as a contender for the Capital Radio sponsored British Single Award, the chaps only had to concentrate on that one.
Apparently George Michael didn't do very well when presenting a gong. Reports describe how he had a 'shambolic Brits outing'. Now, I thought he was 'out' a long long time ago? Anyway, he mumbled and slurred. Surely he could have practised a bit before being in the limelight to present Adele with an award?
All in all, then, a rather poor advert for the UK. Still, we can all look forward to the Olympics in a few months - there's no way anything can go wrong with that tiny affair . . . . surely?
[ CIC = Cunts In Charge ]
...
Adele is furious with the organisers, because having won what is considered to be pretty much the best award, for her album 21, she was denied the opportunity of giving proper acknowledgement to those who mattered to her. So, in the USA she picked up six Grammy Awards, won significant praise, and was allowed to thank whomever she wanted, but in the UK she was cut short! Yes, after fifteen seconds, she was cut off so that the viewing public could listen to some old shit from Blur. Now, as per my earlier blog post, I switched channels after the first of the two hours, not least because the padding on the Brit Awards was dire. It was really more of a set of performances from singers and bands, with a couple of gongs handed out whilst everyone was gathered together. Yes, the priority of the night should have been the awards . . . . the clue is in the cuntin' name!!! So the producers told the compere to cut off Adele because the programme was overrunning. Earlier shit had in effect taken away time needed for something that was the fucking reason for the event in the first place! Adele sticks up a finger at the CIC and I for one don't blame her one bit. What a fuck-up.
James Corden is apparently fuming too, after being asked to cut off Adele's acceptance speech. He delayed for fifteen seconds, but had little choice. He is amazed that he was put in such an awful position. So, he is far from happy and this has taken all the shine off the event. The CIC had no organisational skills, seeing as they did not ask James to step in and cut off a rambling speech by Damon Albarn. What a fuck-up.
Emeli Sande is not at all happy, after her success was belittled by the CIC. She won the Critics' Choice Award but again, as there were supposed pressures to do with the TV timing and schedule, she found herself not getting the proper acknowledgement. Instead of time on camera, her special moment was stolen, and James Corden instead interviewed last year's winner, Jessie J, about the award. What a cuntin' fuck-up and disgrace.
One Direction managed to fuck up while accepting the Best Single award. Listeners of Capital FM had wasted time and money voting for this rabble, but in accepting the gong, the band chose to thank the listeners of Radio 1 instead. I don't blame Capital FM for responding with a snub, refusing to mention the band's tour dates and not playing the band's songs. What a pathetic lack of awareness, to be so ignorant of the award they were in the running for. Surely one of the five schoolkids could have fired up a brain cell to clock that they were in with a chance of an award. Now, I know that multiple choice questions usually have four alternatives from which to choose, and that there were more Brit Awards on offer, but surely one of them would realise the odds were not that bad. A simple process of elimination might have gone like this -
International Female Artist - no, that can't be us, we're not quite feminine enough.
International Male Artist - no, cos five of us try to sing, not one.
International Group - no, we don't play instruments, and we're not foreign.
International Breakthrough Act - No, we're from here, not abroad where we go for holidays.
Album of the Year - Can't be us; someone only released ours in November.
Critics' Choice - No, we don't want to be criticised; we've only just started singing.
Outstanding Contribution - but we haven't contributed anything, let alone been outstanding.
British Male - Nope, too many of us, even though we're going in one direction (ha, geddit?)
British Female - Nope, five is too many.
British Breakthrough Act - Hey, that might be us!
British Single - And that one; that's two all together.
British Group - Now that's three we could be in the running for!
So out of the 12 awards, One Direction could only ever have qualified for three. When selected as a contender for the Capital Radio sponsored British Single Award, the chaps only had to concentrate on that one.
Apparently George Michael didn't do very well when presenting a gong. Reports describe how he had a 'shambolic Brits outing'. Now, I thought he was 'out' a long long time ago? Anyway, he mumbled and slurred. Surely he could have practised a bit before being in the limelight to present Adele with an award?
All in all, then, a rather poor advert for the UK. Still, we can all look forward to the Olympics in a few months - there's no way anything can go wrong with that tiny affair . . . . surely?
[ CIC = Cunts In Charge ]
...
Wednesday 22 February 2012
22.2.12 Winterwatch & Other Bollocks
This week's TV Guide provides a wealth of information, and a source of amusement mixed with annoyance. The listings in my Daily Mail 'Weekend' Supplement (strangely named, considering it has the week's viewing on all channels) show that tonight I could, if I wanted to, watch Winterwatch. This programme (on at 9pm, so it started a few minutes ago then) will not be watched on any TV in this household. The comments in the TV Guide 'Pick of the Day' section are pathetic, with the first sentence being less of a revelation than the writer obviously thought when constructing the opening words.
Winterwatch
9pm BBC2
Bridging the gap between Autumnwatch and Springwatch, blah blah blah fucking blah . . . .
How dire. The alternative [please note, American readers, that it is not alternate] on BBC1 is Masterchef. Greg and John are challenging the contestants to "rustle up an exquisite three-course meal for some of the bigwigs of the British legal system." Now, there are a few issues with this. First, there is far too much cooking on TV. Second, I would have thought that exquisite meals are not often rustled up. Maybe an omelette is something capable of being rustled up, but not anything classified as exquisite, I contest. Third, Britain has such a pathetically shit legal system that anyone purporting to be a 'bigwig' ought to be poisoned.
I see on Channel 5 at 7pm, a programme for which there's a fantastically interesting sentence by way of a description. I quote:
Melinda Messenger and Dominic Littlewood help a single mother from Camberley whose dreams of a career change were left in tatters following a botched conversion.
This all sounds quite entertaining, what with a botched conversion, and I wondered what switch of religion the Camberley female had undergone. Turns out the programme is called "Cowboy Builders" - shame, and a letdown.
10.55 Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. Benson receives an alarming call from an abducted girl. I am struggling with this news, and doubt I will be watching later. First, I suspect that any call from someone who has been abducted could be in the 'alarming' category. However, closer inspection of this sentence reveals a level of confusion on my part. It says the call is alarming, not that the person making the call is alarmed. That means the abducted girl is relaying information in a call that causes alarm for the receiver of the call. I think it would perhaps be alarming if the abducted girl was not alarmed at her predicament, and proceeded to give any news or information, whether itself alarming in its nature or just rather mundane. So, we don't know anything actually regarding the state of the abducted girl, other than she makes a call which Benson answers, and the call is 'alarming' - but in what way is not clear. I am somewhat intrigued now, and might just tune in for the first few minutes, to see whether there's some clarity revealed to me on the alarm aspect of the call.
Monday night's viewing included a programme on Channel 4 called My Social Network Stalker. It was not clear whether this was about a network stalker who was quite social, or a stalker who confined his efforts to doing so on a social network. What was very clear, though, was the suspense that was trying to be generated both in the Pick of the Day section of the TV Guide, and via the numerous trailers on TV ahead of the screening. In all areas, the identity of the woman's stalker was supposed to be shocking. In all the trailers, we were left with the line, "but the one doing it was the last person she would have suspected". The Guide piece reads: "In this shocking True Stories documentary, she talks of her horror at finally discovering the culprit's identity - the last person she would have suspected." What a shame then (or a faux fucking pas) that the other line elsewhere on the page, in the Channel 4 column says: "A woman is subjected to online abuse by her boyfriend." Rather takes the surprise out of it, eh?
Excellent news arrived last Monday, via the TV Guide, with the note next to Cornwall with Caroline Quentin that it was the last in the series. Hooray; bloody woman ought to investigate a tin mine while I close off the access/exit tunnel [fucking great rock and some concrete should do the trick].
Tuesday revealed two things worthy of comment. Hey, I have just thought to myself that I sound rather like Michael Portillo, quoting from his Bradshaw's Guide. Anyway, back to Tuesday, and River Monsters. Talk about manufactured (non-existent) suspense, drama and shite TV. Jeremy Wade decides to go on an expensive journey and annoy the fuck out of some hard-to-find dangerous fish, in the Amazon. The programme is narrated by him, and it's like he's reading out entries in the shittiest diary ever written, with his exploits in catching a fish - one that we don't give a cuntin' fuck about him finding. I felt sorry for the fish. It lives in the fucking tributaries of the Amazon, in Suriname, away from humans because we fuck up its habitat. It's got sharp teeth and manages quite well, enjoying being left alone. However, Jeremy wants to catch one and after a painful hour of crap TV, he does so. Twat! Arghhhhhh!!! He is the river monster!
Later, on BBC1, there was an entry for a programme that I didn't watch, as it didn't really need watching after the TV Guide input.
10.35 Death Unexplained
Investigating the death of a man hit by an underground train.
Now, apologies for being thick, but something's not adding up here - it's not unexplained, if he was hit by a train . . . .
Thanks for watching/listening/reading - happy viewing, whatever you select.
...
Winterwatch
9pm BBC2
Bridging the gap between Autumnwatch and Springwatch, blah blah blah fucking blah . . . .
How dire. The alternative [please note, American readers, that it is not alternate] on BBC1 is Masterchef. Greg and John are challenging the contestants to "rustle up an exquisite three-course meal for some of the bigwigs of the British legal system." Now, there are a few issues with this. First, there is far too much cooking on TV. Second, I would have thought that exquisite meals are not often rustled up. Maybe an omelette is something capable of being rustled up, but not anything classified as exquisite, I contest. Third, Britain has such a pathetically shit legal system that anyone purporting to be a 'bigwig' ought to be poisoned.
I see on Channel 5 at 7pm, a programme for which there's a fantastically interesting sentence by way of a description. I quote:
Melinda Messenger and Dominic Littlewood help a single mother from Camberley whose dreams of a career change were left in tatters following a botched conversion.
This all sounds quite entertaining, what with a botched conversion, and I wondered what switch of religion the Camberley female had undergone. Turns out the programme is called "Cowboy Builders" - shame, and a letdown.
10.55 Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. Benson receives an alarming call from an abducted girl. I am struggling with this news, and doubt I will be watching later. First, I suspect that any call from someone who has been abducted could be in the 'alarming' category. However, closer inspection of this sentence reveals a level of confusion on my part. It says the call is alarming, not that the person making the call is alarmed. That means the abducted girl is relaying information in a call that causes alarm for the receiver of the call. I think it would perhaps be alarming if the abducted girl was not alarmed at her predicament, and proceeded to give any news or information, whether itself alarming in its nature or just rather mundane. So, we don't know anything actually regarding the state of the abducted girl, other than she makes a call which Benson answers, and the call is 'alarming' - but in what way is not clear. I am somewhat intrigued now, and might just tune in for the first few minutes, to see whether there's some clarity revealed to me on the alarm aspect of the call.
Monday night's viewing included a programme on Channel 4 called My Social Network Stalker. It was not clear whether this was about a network stalker who was quite social, or a stalker who confined his efforts to doing so on a social network. What was very clear, though, was the suspense that was trying to be generated both in the Pick of the Day section of the TV Guide, and via the numerous trailers on TV ahead of the screening. In all areas, the identity of the woman's stalker was supposed to be shocking. In all the trailers, we were left with the line, "but the one doing it was the last person she would have suspected". The Guide piece reads: "In this shocking True Stories documentary, she talks of her horror at finally discovering the culprit's identity - the last person she would have suspected." What a shame then (or a faux fucking pas) that the other line elsewhere on the page, in the Channel 4 column says: "A woman is subjected to online abuse by her boyfriend." Rather takes the surprise out of it, eh?
Excellent news arrived last Monday, via the TV Guide, with the note next to Cornwall with Caroline Quentin that it was the last in the series. Hooray; bloody woman ought to investigate a tin mine while I close off the access/exit tunnel [fucking great rock and some concrete should do the trick].
Tuesday revealed two things worthy of comment. Hey, I have just thought to myself that I sound rather like Michael Portillo, quoting from his Bradshaw's Guide. Anyway, back to Tuesday, and River Monsters. Talk about manufactured (non-existent) suspense, drama and shite TV. Jeremy Wade decides to go on an expensive journey and annoy the fuck out of some hard-to-find dangerous fish, in the Amazon. The programme is narrated by him, and it's like he's reading out entries in the shittiest diary ever written, with his exploits in catching a fish - one that we don't give a cuntin' fuck about him finding. I felt sorry for the fish. It lives in the fucking tributaries of the Amazon, in Suriname, away from humans because we fuck up its habitat. It's got sharp teeth and manages quite well, enjoying being left alone. However, Jeremy wants to catch one and after a painful hour of crap TV, he does so. Twat! Arghhhhhh!!! He is the river monster!
Later, on BBC1, there was an entry for a programme that I didn't watch, as it didn't really need watching after the TV Guide input.
10.35 Death Unexplained
Investigating the death of a man hit by an underground train.
Now, apologies for being thick, but something's not adding up here - it's not unexplained, if he was hit by a train . . . .
Thanks for watching/listening/reading - happy viewing, whatever you select.
...
Tuesday 21 February 2012
21.2.12 The Brit Awards 2012
The Shits 2012 is exactly that - Shit. Coldplay opened the show with a portion of noise which was shit. Performers should be applauded if they do something that deserves applause. However, if the adulation is simply because of notoriety, then it's a sad fucking world. Coldplay got applause for 'being Coldplay', and not because there was anything offered above the level of mediocre and boring.
Florence and the Machine took to the stage, although I prefer the name Bloke In Drag Who Shouts. What a dire noise served up in a manner that was supposed to create in us all a sense of awe and wonderment. Sorry, luv but you can't sing.
Adele won something - no real surprise there. Then we were annoyed to fuck by the preferment of an award upon Bruno Mars. What a travesty - I know where I'd throw a grenade !!!
Olly Murs, WTF? A joke of a song/performance; please stick to being a presenter, and not a lightweight performer at kids' parties whose been roped into a performance at a big event. I am now listening to Ed Shearan thinking 'all right', and then the announcer decides at the end that I ought to "stand by for performances by Rihanna, Noel Gallagher and Blur". Well all of that, together with a further Coldplay dirge planned as the finale to this inflated-shit-of-an-awards-ceremony, I have been given every reason to switch over! I don't want to hear anyone more singers thanking their record companies.
British Single 2012 - One Fucking Direction for That's What Makes It Beautiful. How sad that this mob has won a Brit Award.
International Female 2012 - Yet more exposure /overexposure / criminallyinsaneexposure for Rihanna. Tonight she didn't have "Fuck Off" written on her footwear. James Corden, you are a bore.
Cut to a VT about Ed Shearan and his album "+". I lose the will to breathe, but my body seems to manage on autopilot and I cannot seem to die, despite losing the actual will to live. Oh hell - here comes more fucking padding, with Noel Gallagher whining into a microphone. I do not know how much more of this shit I can take. Shit, shit, shit, bollocks, hype, shit. If I kicked a cuntin' cat in the bollocks, it would squeal more tunefully than the noise made by NG. Pretentious.
Plan B came on to announce the winner of Best Solo Male Artist. He sounded like a twat, and suggested that he wouldn't know how to order the letters GCSE properly, let alone be aware enough to pass one. Fortunately the winner of the Shit Award, Ed Shearan, is rather more deserving.
Jo Wally (or something similar) came on with a bloke, to give the Radio 2 award for a band to Cuntin' Coldplay. Yawn, yawn, yaw . . y . . .
Sorry, went into a coma (but still couldn't appreciate the formulaic Shit represented by Coldplay) and it is a sad truth that most bands eventually lose everything good that they once had.
So sorry, but Prisoners' Wives on BBC1 is looking a whole lot more inviting, so the Shits will be one viewer down for its second half. If we'd dispensed with the padding and bollocks, the eight or so awards could have been doled out in the first hour, and not need a second hour of my life (which they are not now getting).
...
Florence and the Machine took to the stage, although I prefer the name Bloke In Drag Who Shouts. What a dire noise served up in a manner that was supposed to create in us all a sense of awe and wonderment. Sorry, luv but you can't sing.
Adele won something - no real surprise there. Then we were annoyed to fuck by the preferment of an award upon Bruno Mars. What a travesty - I know where I'd throw a grenade !!!
Olly Murs, WTF? A joke of a song/performance; please stick to being a presenter, and not a lightweight performer at kids' parties whose been roped into a performance at a big event. I am now listening to Ed Shearan thinking 'all right', and then the announcer decides at the end that I ought to "stand by for performances by Rihanna, Noel Gallagher and Blur". Well all of that, together with a further Coldplay dirge planned as the finale to this inflated-shit-of-an-awards-ceremony, I have been given every reason to switch over! I don't want to hear anyone more singers thanking their record companies.
British Single 2012 - One Fucking Direction for That's What Makes It Beautiful. How sad that this mob has won a Brit Award.
International Female 2012 - Yet more exposure /overexposure / criminallyinsaneexposure for Rihanna. Tonight she didn't have "Fuck Off" written on her footwear. James Corden, you are a bore.
Cut to a VT about Ed Shearan and his album "+". I lose the will to breathe, but my body seems to manage on autopilot and I cannot seem to die, despite losing the actual will to live. Oh hell - here comes more fucking padding, with Noel Gallagher whining into a microphone. I do not know how much more of this shit I can take. Shit, shit, shit, bollocks, hype, shit. If I kicked a cuntin' cat in the bollocks, it would squeal more tunefully than the noise made by NG. Pretentious.
Plan B came on to announce the winner of Best Solo Male Artist. He sounded like a twat, and suggested that he wouldn't know how to order the letters GCSE properly, let alone be aware enough to pass one. Fortunately the winner of the Shit Award, Ed Shearan, is rather more deserving.
Jo Wally (or something similar) came on with a bloke, to give the Radio 2 award for a band to Cuntin' Coldplay. Yawn, yawn, yaw . . y . . .
Sorry, went into a coma (but still couldn't appreciate the formulaic Shit represented by Coldplay) and it is a sad truth that most bands eventually lose everything good that they once had.
So sorry, but Prisoners' Wives on BBC1 is looking a whole lot more inviting, so the Shits will be one viewer down for its second half. If we'd dispensed with the padding and bollocks, the eight or so awards could have been doled out in the first hour, and not need a second hour of my life (which they are not now getting).
...
Sunday 19 February 2012
19.2.12 Smart Price Scandal
I have already posted details of the abuse by supermarkets of the pricing of 'value' items. As the economy struggles, hard-up shoppers continue to switch to lower priced items on supermarket shelves. However, the lower priced items are not as low as they once were. In fact, the cheapest items in supermarkets are going up in price much more rapidly and the general rate of inflation. This was fantastically confirmed by Sainsbury's this weekend. It is nothing short of a fucking scandal!
The 'Basics' range at Sainsbury's includes a 300g packet of Milk Chocolate Digestives, at 49p. This is the exact same packet of biscuits that I purchased from the same fucking shop not six months ago for 39p. Within six months, there has been a 25.6% increase, about 52% per annum then . . . . slightly more than inflation, I think. However, this was trumped by the shocking increase in the price of the 'Basics' Baby Wipes, which have in the last 12 months (again in the same shop) jumped from 18p to 51p. I make that an increase of 183.3%. Criminal, don't you think?
But Sainsbury's has surpassed this ludicrous level of increase on its 'Basics' Nappy Sacks, with a rise in 12 months from 9p to 29p. This means an increase of -
222%
Sainsbury's ought to be ashamed of itself, but I know it won't be. All supermarkets are at it; conning us. Fuck off, all of you, especially Sainsbury's.
Note: I scored a fantastic result at Morrisons in the week, with the purchase of Schwartz Pepper Sauce which was on offer. Yes, Morrisons had printed some massive shelve labels to announce the amazing discount being applied to the product, taking the previous 50p to the new temporary low level of 49p. Fucking madness and bollocks.
Finally: Price fixing is rife - the 'smart / value price' toothpaste has, until four weeks ago, been steady at 17p or 18p, in all four main supermarkets. However, four weeks ago, the going rate for the cheapest stuff suddenly jumped to 30p. Yes, at Sainsbury's, Morrisons, Asda and Tesco, the 75ml budget toothpaste is now 30p across the board - that's price fixing.
Hats off to Wilkinson, whose own brand budget offering is still at 17p, although I wonder if there will eventually be a move towards conformity in the market (?) which would be a shame.
...
The 'Basics' range at Sainsbury's includes a 300g packet of Milk Chocolate Digestives, at 49p. This is the exact same packet of biscuits that I purchased from the same fucking shop not six months ago for 39p. Within six months, there has been a 25.6% increase, about 52% per annum then . . . . slightly more than inflation, I think. However, this was trumped by the shocking increase in the price of the 'Basics' Baby Wipes, which have in the last 12 months (again in the same shop) jumped from 18p to 51p. I make that an increase of 183.3%. Criminal, don't you think?
But Sainsbury's has surpassed this ludicrous level of increase on its 'Basics' Nappy Sacks, with a rise in 12 months from 9p to 29p. This means an increase of -
222%
Sainsbury's ought to be ashamed of itself, but I know it won't be. All supermarkets are at it; conning us. Fuck off, all of you, especially Sainsbury's.
Note: I scored a fantastic result at Morrisons in the week, with the purchase of Schwartz Pepper Sauce which was on offer. Yes, Morrisons had printed some massive shelve labels to announce the amazing discount being applied to the product, taking the previous 50p to the new temporary low level of 49p. Fucking madness and bollocks.
Finally: Price fixing is rife - the 'smart / value price' toothpaste has, until four weeks ago, been steady at 17p or 18p, in all four main supermarkets. However, four weeks ago, the going rate for the cheapest stuff suddenly jumped to 30p. Yes, at Sainsbury's, Morrisons, Asda and Tesco, the 75ml budget toothpaste is now 30p across the board - that's price fixing.
Hats off to Wilkinson, whose own brand budget offering is still at 17p, although I wonder if there will eventually be a move towards conformity in the market (?) which would be a shame.
...
Saturday 18 February 2012
18.2.12 Clichés On Ice
Well, there are just over 42 hours to go before we are all hit with more clichés from the world of dance and ice. There will be the usual assortment of Gubba comments, and a sprinkling of advice on how to skate and/or dance better. However, the programme will be held together by the inordinate number of tired phrases that seem to leave people's mouths each week. You could actually make up your own programme, creating a script by selecting some of the following - have a go.
The Presenter, plus Christine Blokey
What are you looking for this week, judges? How do you think he/she did? How did that compare with the first time? In no particular order. Let's have a look at the leaderboard. The nth couple safe and skating next week is . . . . . . . . [painful wait]. Are you happy with that score? But you may still be charged [this one was massively abbreviated]. So if you think xxxx should be here next week, vote for him/her when the lines open. But at the dress rehearsals, xxxx was still having problems.
The Judges
You need more fluidity. You have good strength in your upper core. You had great speed over the ice. You need to work on your transitions. You have floppy fingers. I want to see more personality. You need to push on, and go for it. You need to connect more. You really showed emotion.
Skaters
This is the hardest thing I've ever done. I need to take it to the next level. I am working so hard. I'm having so much fun. I just went for it. Chris and Jayne are an inspiration. I'm happy with that. I don't want this to end. If I don't get it right, I could be going home. This is the best experience of my life. I don't want to be in the skate off. Perhaps it's a good thing that I've been in the skate off before.
The Professionals
He/she has worked so hard. I am really proud of him/her. We've had so much fun.
Chris & Jayne
That was so much better than the first time. You bring so much fun to the ice. He/she has worked so hard. I could see you really enjoyed it. You were so much more relaxed. That was your best performance so far.
Tony Gubba
Not many clichés because he is forever inventing shit. I don't want to repeat what's already been posted on this site, by way of 'Gubba Quotes'.
...
The Presenter, plus Christine Blokey
What are you looking for this week, judges? How do you think he/she did? How did that compare with the first time? In no particular order. Let's have a look at the leaderboard. The nth couple safe and skating next week is . . . . . . . . [painful wait]. Are you happy with that score? But you may still be charged [this one was massively abbreviated]. So if you think xxxx should be here next week, vote for him/her when the lines open. But at the dress rehearsals, xxxx was still having problems.
The Judges
You need more fluidity. You have good strength in your upper core. You had great speed over the ice. You need to work on your transitions. You have floppy fingers. I want to see more personality. You need to push on, and go for it. You need to connect more. You really showed emotion.
Skaters
This is the hardest thing I've ever done. I need to take it to the next level. I am working so hard. I'm having so much fun. I just went for it. Chris and Jayne are an inspiration. I'm happy with that. I don't want this to end. If I don't get it right, I could be going home. This is the best experience of my life. I don't want to be in the skate off. Perhaps it's a good thing that I've been in the skate off before.
The Professionals
He/she has worked so hard. I am really proud of him/her. We've had so much fun.
Chris & Jayne
That was so much better than the first time. You bring so much fun to the ice. He/she has worked so hard. I could see you really enjoyed it. You were so much more relaxed. That was your best performance so far.
Tony Gubba
Not many clichés because he is forever inventing shit. I don't want to repeat what's already been posted on this site, by way of 'Gubba Quotes'.
...
Wednesday 15 February 2012
15.2.12 Gok's Teens
As ever, "It's all about the confidence", we hear. I am fully in support of Gok's intentions with this project, but the programme being offered up to viewers is disappointing in its format. Can Gok ever do a programme that isn't split into sections, so that we get shit recaps every time? 'No' is the simple answer. The programme style, format, content, and delivery is so, so so, so predictable! Of course we want to get rid of bullying, and support those who have been victims. However, there are people far more watchable than Gok to relay this stuff.
His 'preciousness' had a busy day in this week's programme. We saw him on the radio in the morning, with Fearne Cotton, before he set off on a completely pointless whirlwind tour, to deliver a handful of DVDs to schools. First Manchester, then Birmingham, then Bristol and finally Guildford. At each site, he landed in his helicopter, stood in a playground/field to hand over half a dozen discs, and then announced he had to dash. These are the fucking kids that were that very morning learning how to reduce emissions and save the planet. Perhaps Gok should have simply posted them first class ??? It would have saved a lot of fuel, money, damage to the environment from an unnecessary journey, and ten minutes of shit in the programme.
This is lazy television, painful to endure, and a disservice to the cause; it would be possible to achieve rather more, and a better televisual result, if there was some proper thought to the presentation, content, format and prioritisation. This should not be a programme that focuses on Gok, but unfortunately Gok's Teens is more about Gok than the Teens.
...
His 'preciousness' had a busy day in this week's programme. We saw him on the radio in the morning, with Fearne Cotton, before he set off on a completely pointless whirlwind tour, to deliver a handful of DVDs to schools. First Manchester, then Birmingham, then Bristol and finally Guildford. At each site, he landed in his helicopter, stood in a playground/field to hand over half a dozen discs, and then announced he had to dash. These are the fucking kids that were that very morning learning how to reduce emissions and save the planet. Perhaps Gok should have simply posted them first class ??? It would have saved a lot of fuel, money, damage to the environment from an unnecessary journey, and ten minutes of shit in the programme.
This is lazy television, painful to endure, and a disservice to the cause; it would be possible to achieve rather more, and a better televisual result, if there was some proper thought to the presentation, content, format and prioritisation. This should not be a programme that focuses on Gok, but unfortunately Gok's Teens is more about Gok than the Teens.
...
15.2.12 Whitney Circus
After a terrible and tragic end to her life, there now follows mayhem and tackiness that would distress Whitney Houston if she could see it. It is clear to everyone that her life was a mess in the latter stages, and she needed help. Unfortunately those who might have been able to help were, in the main, getting on with their own lives and not interested - until it was time to praise her and lay a flower outside the hotel where she died.
Tributes count for shit, when they are expressed by people whose main intention in making tributes is to be recognised themselves! Celebrities now want to be seen paying respects to the singer; most would not have been in touch with her at all for ages (or ever) despite her 'issues', and it's two-faced to flounce around now with kind words that will do no good to Whitney.
The 'Circus' is of course run by the media, hungry as fuck for every last detail about the last weeks, days, hours of her life, the details of who, how, when, why, and there will be a ton of speculative press space given to needless padding of a story. There have been and will continue to be photos obtained (probably taken on mobile phones) showing who-knows-what. Today in the newspaper there's a picture of the bath in which she was found dead, under the headline: "Whitney's Death Bath". Disgusting 'journalism'.
Family arguments are all up and running, and someone thought it appropriate to move her body in a hearse that was gold! No taste is afforded in these situations. There will be fuel enough for 1000 chat shows for the next few weeks, and many thousands of 'articles' in newspapers and magazines. Some will ask searching questions, to which there are no answers, and they will adopt various stances; most will be pompous, superior and damning in their editorial lines, but few will properly acknowledge the complete failure of everyone involved - and those who should have been involved but were not. We will have the inside stories, the scandals, the tangential stories on drugs with links to so many others whose lives have ended ahead of time. Doctors will be interrogated, and asked to explain how so many prescription drugs are filling celebrities' handbags these days.
There will in simple terms be an undesirable circus around the death of Whitney Houston. It's the way things are done, particularly in the USA, although it's perhaps unfair to criticise the country when it's the stars themselves who, if they don't live there already, flock to the country for opportunity and fame. I am so glad that my own death will not inspire thousands to claim some link to me and litter the place with flowers outside a hotel, and I am happier knowing that there will not be a Spanish Inquisition after my death, or a 'media frenzy' - or a Circus in the worst possible taste.
...
Tributes count for shit, when they are expressed by people whose main intention in making tributes is to be recognised themselves! Celebrities now want to be seen paying respects to the singer; most would not have been in touch with her at all for ages (or ever) despite her 'issues', and it's two-faced to flounce around now with kind words that will do no good to Whitney.
The 'Circus' is of course run by the media, hungry as fuck for every last detail about the last weeks, days, hours of her life, the details of who, how, when, why, and there will be a ton of speculative press space given to needless padding of a story. There have been and will continue to be photos obtained (probably taken on mobile phones) showing who-knows-what. Today in the newspaper there's a picture of the bath in which she was found dead, under the headline: "Whitney's Death Bath". Disgusting 'journalism'.
Family arguments are all up and running, and someone thought it appropriate to move her body in a hearse that was gold! No taste is afforded in these situations. There will be fuel enough for 1000 chat shows for the next few weeks, and many thousands of 'articles' in newspapers and magazines. Some will ask searching questions, to which there are no answers, and they will adopt various stances; most will be pompous, superior and damning in their editorial lines, but few will properly acknowledge the complete failure of everyone involved - and those who should have been involved but were not. We will have the inside stories, the scandals, the tangential stories on drugs with links to so many others whose lives have ended ahead of time. Doctors will be interrogated, and asked to explain how so many prescription drugs are filling celebrities' handbags these days.
There will in simple terms be an undesirable circus around the death of Whitney Houston. It's the way things are done, particularly in the USA, although it's perhaps unfair to criticise the country when it's the stars themselves who, if they don't live there already, flock to the country for opportunity and fame. I am so glad that my own death will not inspire thousands to claim some link to me and litter the place with flowers outside a hotel, and I am happier knowing that there will not be a Spanish Inquisition after my death, or a 'media frenzy' - or a Circus in the worst possible taste.
...
15.2.12 Sean Penn Out Of Order
What a fucking cheek! Sean Penn has decided he is qualified to attack Britain over its stance on the Falkland Islands.
"I hope the diplomats can establish true dialogue in order to solve the conflict."
Fuck off, Sean - the conflict was sorted almost 20 years ago, and nothing has changed. The Falklands are British, and until the inhabitants decide they want to switch allegiance to Argentina, then the matter is closed - unlike your gob. It's got fuck all to do with you, so please will you go and get involved in something else, or maybe make a film? Apparently that's something you're supposed to be qualified for, although I am not sure that henceforth I'll be keen to see you in anything.
...
"I hope the diplomats can establish true dialogue in order to solve the conflict."
Fuck off, Sean - the conflict was sorted almost 20 years ago, and nothing has changed. The Falklands are British, and until the inhabitants decide they want to switch allegiance to Argentina, then the matter is closed - unlike your gob. It's got fuck all to do with you, so please will you go and get involved in something else, or maybe make a film? Apparently that's something you're supposed to be qualified for, although I am not sure that henceforth I'll be keen to see you in anything.
...
Sunday 12 February 2012
12.2.12 Wild At Heart
Block of Wood
The acting on Wild At Heart leaves a lot to be desired, and I cannot bring myself to watch/endure the programme these days.
Stephen Tompkinson
...
12.2.12 Shearer Shocker
We all know Alan Shearer talks fluent gibberish (if that isn't an oxymoron, he certainly is). Tonight on Match of the Day, he managed a classic contribution, when talking about Thierry Henry.
"I know there was one or two question marks asked."
I really don't know where to start with this one, so I simply won't. I am sure that my skirting boards are more articulate than Alan Shearer, although they of course contain less wood.
PS: I also think I've seen more hair on a hard boiled egg - what's going on Alan? The little he has got resembles the picture in Saturday's paper, showing a guy having a tattoo to replicate hair, albeit a 'No.1'
...
"I know there was one or two question marks asked."
I really don't know where to start with this one, so I simply won't. I am sure that my skirting boards are more articulate than Alan Shearer, although they of course contain less wood.
PS: I also think I've seen more hair on a hard boiled egg - what's going on Alan? The little he has got resembles the picture in Saturday's paper, showing a guy having a tattoo to replicate hair, albeit a 'No.1'
...
Saturday 11 February 2012
11.2.12 Saturday Rant-and-a-Half
The complete dumbing down of the language is disgraceful, and whether written or spoken, English is generally in a mess. The biggest disgrace is reserved for journalists and presenters on TV. Media people have a responsibility to use correct grammar, and not to confirm (as they often do) that there are amongst their ranks cunts who are thick.
On the radio, I heard a report that included the line: "When the jury consider their verdict . . ." which clearly makes 'Jury' plural! This type of error litters newspapers and broadcasting, and is the most blatant example of ignorance being promoted. A newspaper report a while ago said: "A set of 100 Picasso etchings have been bought by the British Museum." Can a day go by without hearing phrases like "The FA are . . ." or "The Football Club are . . ."? I watched A Question of Sport on BBC1 a few days ago, and Sue Barker asked: "Which team play their games at . . .?" Me shouting "Plays its" at the screen achieves nothing, sadly. On another TV programme, I noted the narrator saying "erode away". Erode is a word that is fine on its own and means 'wear away'. So, the 'away' part of 'erode away' is pointless. 'Send back' or 'return', not 'return back'. There are hundreds of fucking examples: reduce down; focus in; rise up . . . . . .
In Wednesday's Sun there was an article by author Adele Parks - the piece itself was not the problem, it was the title that fucked me off.
Books or eBooks?
Who cares long as
people are reading
"Long as" ??? 'As long as', you plonker! Everywhere you look, there's a fuck up, but as every day goes by, fewer and fewer people notice the slide in standards. Cunts who argue that language is always changing can fuck off - I don't mind language slowly changing, but wide scale abandoning of all standards, grammar and logic is not on. All those whose attention to detail is useless will be pleased they can get away with murder now. The 'anything goes' approach is deplorable.
Meanwhile, we have arseholes like Louisa Mason, featured in the paper during the week. She's the twat who is planning to marry a rich man, so she's secure. She has said that the easiest way to catch her man is to get pregnant. She says: "Surely all women should have a choice. I choose to find a wealthy man and make him marry me." With warped people like her on the loose, men are not safe.
Elsewhere, I have been bored to death by Denise Welch, stories about wild cats and leopards on the loose in Britain, and Abu Cuntada/Qatada. This country is truly fucked, and to underline the point, not only can we do nothing about undesirables fleecing the system and living here because to get rid of them would deny them their rights to family life, we now have newspaper reports giving details of a mother fighting with her 11-year-old son over who gets the last can of lager!
The snow has caught us out yet again. Actually, more annoying than the snow is the cuntin' obsession with calling the change in the weather a 'Cold Snap'. For decades, the well-established and perfectly adequate "Cold Spell" was good enough, but just three years ago, the 'snap' reference was born, and it's now applied to every fucking event that involves any snow at all, and at any time a shitty weather presenter decides to chuck it into the blurb doled out as he/she stands looking at the camera, trying to be all pally-pally, and pissing winking at us with a 'na-night' at the end. Actually, the weather presenters seem to include in their useless updates advice on 'taking care', 'driving carefully', 'watching out' and 'wrapping up warm'. Just tell us about the fucking weather, please! Notice, I do not refer to them as 'forecasters' because they rarely stick to that. In fact, most of them begin by telling us what the weather has been like for the last 24hrs; that's got no fucking place on the weather forecast slot!
It's mad. The country struggles with snow/ice/leaves/fog/rain/frost/winds and the infrastructure collapses. Yet, I am asked (by way of an overhead gantry on the motorway) "Is Your Vehicle Ready For Winter". Fucking cheek - it's more ready than the salt/grit lorries, the councils, the emergency services and the government. To rub salt into the wound (pun intended) the cunts omit the question marks on the signs!
In the rugby that's just finished, with England beating Italy, the commentator said: "There were question marks coming into this game about . . . " which is clearly yet another faux fuckin' pas. There were, I believe questions, but not question marks!
Will I survive today? I am not sure, as there are so many things that bombard and annoy. Suarez is a fucking nob and a cunt, and Liverpool FC ought to wake up and act a damn sight better as well!
By the way, and before I finish moaning, I need to register one more bone of contention. In the Sun last week, there were a couple of small stories within the TV section. One was not of any interest, but did provide an indication of the level of offence caused by programmes on television. Apparently Ofcom is not going to conduct an investigation of the Alan Carr New Year's Eve Show. Fortunately it has seen sense, after establishing that 57 people complained about the language. Fifty-fucking-seven! Programmes are watched by millions, yet millions of us are usually dictated to by these cunts who phone in and complain, instead of reading a fucking book. On this occasion, the wishes and views of 57 have not superseded the views and enjoyment of three million.
Next to this story, there was a piece that was grossly inaccurate, and if the Sun had any moral fibre, it would arrange for an apology to be issued immediately. Under the heading of "Dawn has blast laugh", the piece opened with: "Funny girl Dawn French wants to be blasted into the sky in a firework display after she dies." Now, I am quite happy for DF to be blasted into the sky, and whether it's before or after her death is of no consequence to me. However, I strongly object to the opening statement, and the misleading information. Dawn French is not a girl and she is not funny.
...
On the radio, I heard a report that included the line: "When the jury consider their verdict . . ." which clearly makes 'Jury' plural! This type of error litters newspapers and broadcasting, and is the most blatant example of ignorance being promoted. A newspaper report a while ago said: "A set of 100 Picasso etchings have been bought by the British Museum." Can a day go by without hearing phrases like "The FA are . . ." or "The Football Club are . . ."? I watched A Question of Sport on BBC1 a few days ago, and Sue Barker asked: "Which team play their games at . . .?" Me shouting "Plays its" at the screen achieves nothing, sadly. On another TV programme, I noted the narrator saying "erode away". Erode is a word that is fine on its own and means 'wear away'. So, the 'away' part of 'erode away' is pointless. 'Send back' or 'return', not 'return back'. There are hundreds of fucking examples: reduce down; focus in; rise up . . . . . .
In Wednesday's Sun there was an article by author Adele Parks - the piece itself was not the problem, it was the title that fucked me off.
Books or eBooks?
Who cares long as
people are reading
"Long as" ??? 'As long as', you plonker! Everywhere you look, there's a fuck up, but as every day goes by, fewer and fewer people notice the slide in standards. Cunts who argue that language is always changing can fuck off - I don't mind language slowly changing, but wide scale abandoning of all standards, grammar and logic is not on. All those whose attention to detail is useless will be pleased they can get away with murder now. The 'anything goes' approach is deplorable.
Meanwhile, we have arseholes like Louisa Mason, featured in the paper during the week. She's the twat who is planning to marry a rich man, so she's secure. She has said that the easiest way to catch her man is to get pregnant. She says: "Surely all women should have a choice. I choose to find a wealthy man and make him marry me." With warped people like her on the loose, men are not safe.
Elsewhere, I have been bored to death by Denise Welch, stories about wild cats and leopards on the loose in Britain, and Abu Cuntada/Qatada. This country is truly fucked, and to underline the point, not only can we do nothing about undesirables fleecing the system and living here because to get rid of them would deny them their rights to family life, we now have newspaper reports giving details of a mother fighting with her 11-year-old son over who gets the last can of lager!
The snow has caught us out yet again. Actually, more annoying than the snow is the cuntin' obsession with calling the change in the weather a 'Cold Snap'. For decades, the well-established and perfectly adequate "Cold Spell" was good enough, but just three years ago, the 'snap' reference was born, and it's now applied to every fucking event that involves any snow at all, and at any time a shitty weather presenter decides to chuck it into the blurb doled out as he/she stands looking at the camera, trying to be all pally-pally, and pissing winking at us with a 'na-night' at the end. Actually, the weather presenters seem to include in their useless updates advice on 'taking care', 'driving carefully', 'watching out' and 'wrapping up warm'. Just tell us about the fucking weather, please! Notice, I do not refer to them as 'forecasters' because they rarely stick to that. In fact, most of them begin by telling us what the weather has been like for the last 24hrs; that's got no fucking place on the weather forecast slot!
It's mad. The country struggles with snow/ice/leaves/fog/rain/frost/winds and the infrastructure collapses. Yet, I am asked (by way of an overhead gantry on the motorway) "Is Your Vehicle Ready For Winter". Fucking cheek - it's more ready than the salt/grit lorries, the councils, the emergency services and the government. To rub salt into the wound (pun intended) the cunts omit the question marks on the signs!
In the rugby that's just finished, with England beating Italy, the commentator said: "There were question marks coming into this game about . . . " which is clearly yet another faux fuckin' pas. There were, I believe questions, but not question marks!
Will I survive today? I am not sure, as there are so many things that bombard and annoy. Suarez is a fucking nob and a cunt, and Liverpool FC ought to wake up and act a damn sight better as well!
By the way, and before I finish moaning, I need to register one more bone of contention. In the Sun last week, there were a couple of small stories within the TV section. One was not of any interest, but did provide an indication of the level of offence caused by programmes on television. Apparently Ofcom is not going to conduct an investigation of the Alan Carr New Year's Eve Show. Fortunately it has seen sense, after establishing that 57 people complained about the language. Fifty-fucking-seven! Programmes are watched by millions, yet millions of us are usually dictated to by these cunts who phone in and complain, instead of reading a fucking book. On this occasion, the wishes and views of 57 have not superseded the views and enjoyment of three million.
Next to this story, there was a piece that was grossly inaccurate, and if the Sun had any moral fibre, it would arrange for an apology to be issued immediately. Under the heading of "Dawn has blast laugh", the piece opened with: "Funny girl Dawn French wants to be blasted into the sky in a firework display after she dies." Now, I am quite happy for DF to be blasted into the sky, and whether it's before or after her death is of no consequence to me. However, I strongly object to the opening statement, and the misleading information. Dawn French is not a girl and she is not funny.
...
Friday 10 February 2012
10.2.12 No Hidden Extras
I have just seen an advert on TV, with a preposterous offer. The company is PayDayUK, and it is apparently possible to borrow money from them at the fantastically competitive rate of -
1737% APR
What's more, as the chap in the advert confirms, there are "No Hidden Extras" - as if there need to be any at that rate! 'No Extras' makes it all the more inviting then - HA! If you are completely desperate and stupid, get in touch, then, via http://www.paydayuk.co.uk/
What a mad world we live in.
...
1737% APR
What's more, as the chap in the advert confirms, there are "No Hidden Extras" - as if there need to be any at that rate! 'No Extras' makes it all the more inviting then - HA! If you are completely desperate and stupid, get in touch, then, via http://www.paydayuk.co.uk/
What a mad world we live in.
...
Thursday 9 February 2012
9.2.12 Olympic Merchandise & Tickets
We all know this country is fucked, and further proof of the UK's ability not just to shoot itself in the foot but to amputate it as well has come following revelations about contracts for the Olympics. Last week, we read about the sorry state of affairs that exists regarding official merchandise available to order online. 91% of the items available are NOT manufactured in the UK. How fucking stupid are we!
Weldon, Williams & Lick has now been awarded the contract to print the tickets. I have nothing against this company, and rather like its name. However, it is in the United States of America. As a result, the company will be flying (from Arkansas) a 16-ton order of 11million tickets 4,500 miles to a warehouse in London - from where they will be posted out to UK addresses at £6 per time. How fucking stupid are we!
There are no question marks at the end of the last sentences, as "How fucking stupid are we" is most definitely not a question - more of a declaration, for we most certainly are fucking stupid in this country.
...
Weldon, Williams & Lick has now been awarded the contract to print the tickets. I have nothing against this company, and rather like its name. However, it is in the United States of America. As a result, the company will be flying (from Arkansas) a 16-ton order of 11million tickets 4,500 miles to a warehouse in London - from where they will be posted out to UK addresses at £6 per time. How fucking stupid are we!
There are no question marks at the end of the last sentences, as "How fucking stupid are we" is most definitely not a question - more of a declaration, for we most certainly are fucking stupid in this country.
...
9.2.12 Exchanges (No.3)
Baxter's Soup
It's late in the evening, around 11pm, and before the late film starts, hunger pangs arrive.
Mrs MWSC: "Ooh, I fancy some soup; do you want some?"
TMWSC: "Yes please."
Mrs MWSC: "Game?"
TMWSC: "I am if you are!"
Much laughter ensues
Physique
At a private party, the music is playing and dancing is in progress. Daughter-in-law and TMWSC look on.
JESS: "My rule is you don't wear a dress like that if you're that shape."
TMWSC: "My rule is if you're that shape, you don't leave the house."
Beards
TMWSC is in the kitchen, drinking Bulmers Cider from a bottle. Mrs MWSC instantly responds to the comment in a completely matter-of-fact way.
TMWSC: "The trouble with having hair on your face is it gets in the way."
Mrs MWSC: "It's why I shave, luv."
Argos Pointless Question
TMWSC is in the queue, ready to approach the till at Argos, and order some lights.
TMWSC: "Treble zero, nine hundred, please."
Till Operator: "Is that a reservation number?"
TMWSC: "Yes." *
* TMWSC resists the urge to say to the woman: "It is quite clearly a reservation number, you numbskull, because reservation numbers are six digits long, whereas every fucking item in the catalogue is given a unique seven digit reference number, with the first three denoting the department, which is never treble zero" and instead waits for her to ring up the sale.
Till Operator: "Two ceiling lights at £9.99?"
TMWSC: "That's right" (holding out a Twenty-Pound note)
Till Operator: "Do you want to put that on an Argos Card today?"
TMWSC: An incredulous shake-of-the-head is given
TMWSC leaves the till, trying to work out why the thick twat asked if he wanted to put the £19.98 on to an Argos Credit Card when he was waving a £20 note.
Poundland
At the till, TMWSC has presented a basket containing six items, each for sale at £1.
Till Operator: "Can I interest you in a multipack of Kit-Kat bars today?"
TMWSC: "No!"
What the fuck is it with people upselling?
...
It's late in the evening, around 11pm, and before the late film starts, hunger pangs arrive.
Mrs MWSC: "Ooh, I fancy some soup; do you want some?"
TMWSC: "Yes please."
Mrs MWSC: "Game?"
TMWSC: "I am if you are!"
Much laughter ensues
Physique
At a private party, the music is playing and dancing is in progress. Daughter-in-law and TMWSC look on.
JESS: "My rule is you don't wear a dress like that if you're that shape."
TMWSC: "My rule is if you're that shape, you don't leave the house."
Beards
TMWSC is in the kitchen, drinking Bulmers Cider from a bottle. Mrs MWSC instantly responds to the comment in a completely matter-of-fact way.
TMWSC: "The trouble with having hair on your face is it gets in the way."
Mrs MWSC: "It's why I shave, luv."
Argos Pointless Question
TMWSC is in the queue, ready to approach the till at Argos, and order some lights.
TMWSC: "Treble zero, nine hundred, please."
Till Operator: "Is that a reservation number?"
TMWSC: "Yes." *
* TMWSC resists the urge to say to the woman: "It is quite clearly a reservation number, you numbskull, because reservation numbers are six digits long, whereas every fucking item in the catalogue is given a unique seven digit reference number, with the first three denoting the department, which is never treble zero" and instead waits for her to ring up the sale.
Till Operator: "Two ceiling lights at £9.99?"
TMWSC: "That's right" (holding out a Twenty-Pound note)
Till Operator: "Do you want to put that on an Argos Card today?"
TMWSC: An incredulous shake-of-the-head is given
TMWSC leaves the till, trying to work out why the thick twat asked if he wanted to put the £19.98 on to an Argos Credit Card when he was waving a £20 note.
Poundland
At the till, TMWSC has presented a basket containing six items, each for sale at £1.
Till Operator: "Can I interest you in a multipack of Kit-Kat bars today?"
TMWSC: "No!"
What the fuck is it with people upselling?
...
Wednesday 8 February 2012
8.2.12 Any Sensible Person Would . . .
Any sensible person would most certainly -
1 Demand that the UK gets rid of stupid 'Human Rights' legislation that is used by cunts to escape proper punishment.
2 Deport Abu Qatada, or leave him in jail.
3 Smother Fabio Capello.
4 Ban windfarms; they do not provide a viable means of producing enough energy to be worth the cost of manufacturing, installing and maintaining the turbines.
5 Stop giving aid to countries that do not need (let alone want) the payments.
6 Send John Prescott to live out his days at a sanctuary with the donkeys.
7 Ban adverts for sofas on British television.
8 Question what the "plus" means, with regard to the numerous premises across the country which are labelled jobcentreplus
9 Ban the term "5-a-day" from all communications, written, spoken and visual.
10 Take Greece out of the Eurozone
...
1 Demand that the UK gets rid of stupid 'Human Rights' legislation that is used by cunts to escape proper punishment.
2 Deport Abu Qatada, or leave him in jail.
3 Smother Fabio Capello.
4 Ban windfarms; they do not provide a viable means of producing enough energy to be worth the cost of manufacturing, installing and maintaining the turbines.
5 Stop giving aid to countries that do not need (let alone want) the payments.
6 Send John Prescott to live out his days at a sanctuary with the donkeys.
7 Ban adverts for sofas on British television.
8 Question what the "plus" means, with regard to the numerous premises across the country which are labelled jobcentreplus
9 Ban the term "5-a-day" from all communications, written, spoken and visual.
10 Take Greece out of the Eurozone
...
Monday 6 February 2012
6.2.12 Capello Deserves FA
Fabio Capello is in a ludicrous position, being free to openly question a decision made by his employers, yet carry no risk of punishment. Indeed, this idiot seems free to do whatever he likes and collect £6million per year. Now, it is surely the fault of the Football Association that he is collecting such a high sum, after it fucked up big time when it extended Fabio's contract just before the World Cup. That institutional idiocy has left England lumbered with a choice muppet. That does not mean, however, that Capello has any excuse for being a useless twat, and so out of touch with the mood of the nation whose national team he's supposed to be managing.
He is standing by John Terry. Sorry, Crapello, but to summon up a teaspoon's worth of loyalty for the likes of JT shows absurd judgement. The decision has been made by the FA, and you choose to relay via the press a grievance which amounts to a pissing tantrum! Grievance? The whole country has got a grievance with you, and surely you must recognise that people think you're crap? Or are you so cuntin' dozy that you haven't got a clue?
You are now, by default, declaring that John Terry is fit to captain the England side - a man who if he didn't call Anton Ferdinand a "fucking black cunt" referred to him instead as the totally acceptable (?) "fucking blind cunt". I see; if he escapes the charge of the former, then his credentials to lead are fully endorsed by his utterance of the latter . . . . . hmmmmm. Fabio, you are a bigger twat than I thought possible. As for JT's own approach to the situation, he is once again showing his own total lack of judgement. His past endeavours have seen him embroiled in dodgy dealing over cash for visitor tours at Stamford Bridge, dishonest dealings with the other sex - we all recall the scandal ref Wayne Bridge's ex - and any person in his current position would step down whilst the matter is being dealt with (belatedly, at the request of his own legal team). But no, he thought it better to offer no sensible or easy solution, and hang on instead. A proper 'Captain' would think of the good of the team, not personal position - especially after a personal display of behaviour that brings the game into disrepute, whether or not on racial grounds.
The paper today notes that so far, Fabio has not given any hint of resigning. I am hardly surprised, because he earns £685 per hour. I suspect that has something to do with why the arse has clung to the position, unwanted as he is, for so fucking long. Integrity? Judgement? Ability? I've seen more of all this displayed by Basil Brush.
...
He is standing by John Terry. Sorry, Crapello, but to summon up a teaspoon's worth of loyalty for the likes of JT shows absurd judgement. The decision has been made by the FA, and you choose to relay via the press a grievance which amounts to a pissing tantrum! Grievance? The whole country has got a grievance with you, and surely you must recognise that people think you're crap? Or are you so cuntin' dozy that you haven't got a clue?
You are now, by default, declaring that John Terry is fit to captain the England side - a man who if he didn't call Anton Ferdinand a "fucking black cunt" referred to him instead as the totally acceptable (?) "fucking blind cunt". I see; if he escapes the charge of the former, then his credentials to lead are fully endorsed by his utterance of the latter . . . . . hmmmmm. Fabio, you are a bigger twat than I thought possible. As for JT's own approach to the situation, he is once again showing his own total lack of judgement. His past endeavours have seen him embroiled in dodgy dealing over cash for visitor tours at Stamford Bridge, dishonest dealings with the other sex - we all recall the scandal ref Wayne Bridge's ex - and any person in his current position would step down whilst the matter is being dealt with (belatedly, at the request of his own legal team). But no, he thought it better to offer no sensible or easy solution, and hang on instead. A proper 'Captain' would think of the good of the team, not personal position - especially after a personal display of behaviour that brings the game into disrepute, whether or not on racial grounds.
The paper today notes that so far, Fabio has not given any hint of resigning. I am hardly surprised, because he earns £685 per hour. I suspect that has something to do with why the arse has clung to the position, unwanted as he is, for so fucking long. Integrity? Judgement? Ability? I've seen more of all this displayed by Basil Brush.
...
Sunday 5 February 2012
5.2.12 "The Man Who Says" Audience
Thanks to viewers from various countries around the world. The countries which make up the top ten for viewing are:
1 United Kingdom
2 United States
3 Russia
4 Germany
5 Singapore
6 Australia
7 Spain
8 Netherlands
9 Canada
10 Japan
Other interest has come from (in no particular order):
France
Poland
Italy
Denmark
Sweden
Switzerland
Thailand
Croatia
Bulgaria
India
Mexico
Iraq
Colombia
China
South Africa
Philippines
Latvia
Ireland
Serbia
Greece
Ukraine
Egypt
Taiwan
Bosnia and Herzegovina
...
1 United Kingdom
2 United States
3 Russia
4 Germany
5 Singapore
6 Australia
7 Spain
8 Netherlands
9 Canada
10 Japan
Other interest has come from (in no particular order):
France
Poland
Italy
Denmark
Sweden
Switzerland
Thailand
Croatia
Bulgaria
India
Mexico
Iraq
Colombia
China
South Africa
Philippines
Latvia
Ireland
Serbia
Greece
Ukraine
Egypt
Taiwan
Bosnia and Herzegovina
...
5.2.12 Dancing On Ice Week 5
A serious lack of entertainment this week - all rather subdued. There were just a few Tony Gubba comments worth mentioning, and they didn't rival the quote from Daniel, talking about his partner Jennifer Ellison.
Gubba Comments
"A boxer split lift, amazing before the nine o'clock watershed" [Ref Jennifer Ellison]
"At least he skates better than George drives" [Ref Sam dressed as George Michael]
"She's got vitality and vigour" [Ref Chemmy - apparently her coat shines too, because of the Winalot diet]
Gubba Lifts
Upside Down Box Split Lift
The Card Trick Splits Lift
Banana Split Lift
The competition question was laughable: What was the name of the Vanilla Ice hit?
A: Sleet Sleet Baby
B: Ice Ice Baby
C: Fog Fog Baby
Oh yes, the Daniel Whiston quote, ref his partner Jennifer Ellison:
"I just get behind her and give her everything I've got."
The results programme baffles me because the first half of it comprises a repeat of the recap (which is pointless) and a 'performance' from someone or other. This week we had Miming On Ice from One Direction. I did not notice that the audience was solely girls aged 7-16, so I am confused about all the squealing and whooping . . . . . perhaps Caroline Flack's pals were all in for the night, trying to nab one of the
other four (Harry having seen sense and moved on from those who are almost old enough to be 'mum').
The results were delivered in no particular order - something Schofield pointed out on a number of occasions, in case we were in any fucking doubt. The point is, though, that as expected, Stilton went out, She was always going to be the casualty, bearing in mind that it's unfortunately not possible to vote off the pointless Christine Bleakness. Why Zara Phillips had to get involved by commenting on Alchemy is beyond me. Al-Chemmy was the one in red who could hold her own with Hulk Hogan.
Desperation On Ice continues next Sunday
...
Gubba Comments
"A boxer split lift, amazing before the nine o'clock watershed" [Ref Jennifer Ellison]
"At least he skates better than George drives" [Ref Sam dressed as George Michael]
"She's got vitality and vigour" [Ref Chemmy - apparently her coat shines too, because of the Winalot diet]
Gubba Lifts
Upside Down Box Split Lift
The Card Trick Splits Lift
Banana Split Lift
The competition question was laughable: What was the name of the Vanilla Ice hit?
A: Sleet Sleet Baby
B: Ice Ice Baby
C: Fog Fog Baby
Oh yes, the Daniel Whiston quote, ref his partner Jennifer Ellison:
"I just get behind her and give her everything I've got."
The results programme baffles me because the first half of it comprises a repeat of the recap (which is pointless) and a 'performance' from someone or other. This week we had Miming On Ice from One Direction. I did not notice that the audience was solely girls aged 7-16, so I am confused about all the squealing and whooping . . . . . perhaps Caroline Flack's pals were all in for the night, trying to nab one of the
other four (Harry having seen sense and moved on from those who are almost old enough to be 'mum').
The results were delivered in no particular order - something Schofield pointed out on a number of occasions, in case we were in any fucking doubt. The point is, though, that as expected, Stilton went out, She was always going to be the casualty, bearing in mind that it's unfortunately not possible to vote off the pointless Christine Bleakness. Why Zara Phillips had to get involved by commenting on Alchemy is beyond me. Al-Chemmy was the one in red who could hold her own with Hulk Hogan.
Desperation On Ice continues next Sunday
...
5.2.12 EuroMillions Bastard
Every system has its weaknesses and flaws. Systems are generally okay, and aim to cater for whatever the requirement, but there are exceptions ot the periphery. There are naturally winners and losers at the margins, and it's a sad fact that no system is perfect.
The UK makes sure that the disabled (through Disability Living Allowance) are helped, and the Motability scheme helps those who are potentially unable to get about. Both approaches are there to ensure that disabled people get a helping hand. There are two problems with all of this. The first is that there are numerous people who con the system and qualify for these benefits when they should really be told to fuck off. Tempting as it is, am not going to moan about them. Belatedly, the government is trying to re-evaluate claimants and see who's telling porkies. No, my beef is with another set of people - those who have absolutely no fucking need of the benefits they get, but are adamant that they will continue to claim them. This set of people is a rather small one - minute in comparison to the people falsely claiming. Nevertheless, it is abhorrent that there are cunts in society who think that their rights to benefits outweigh the moral responsibility to forego benefits.
Take the case of Mick O'Shea. He gets DLA and a car through the Motability scheme. He won £10.2million on the lottery. That's right, on EuroMillions, he pocketed over ten million quid. How the fucking hell does he think it's okay to carry on claiming? WORSE, when challenged, he manages to create a pathetic argument that he is in the right!
He says "I'm entitled to it". I say, "You are a complete cunt of a human being". I do not care what claims you make about having given some money away, helped good causes or helped family. It is morally reprehensible that you decide to claim £6000 per year DLA and a new car every three years. You are a shit for trying to justify your warped-to-fuck stance.
Ask not what you can do for your country, but act like a cunt and see what you can screw from your country.
...
The UK makes sure that the disabled (through Disability Living Allowance) are helped, and the Motability scheme helps those who are potentially unable to get about. Both approaches are there to ensure that disabled people get a helping hand. There are two problems with all of this. The first is that there are numerous people who con the system and qualify for these benefits when they should really be told to fuck off. Tempting as it is, am not going to moan about them. Belatedly, the government is trying to re-evaluate claimants and see who's telling porkies. No, my beef is with another set of people - those who have absolutely no fucking need of the benefits they get, but are adamant that they will continue to claim them. This set of people is a rather small one - minute in comparison to the people falsely claiming. Nevertheless, it is abhorrent that there are cunts in society who think that their rights to benefits outweigh the moral responsibility to forego benefits.
Take the case of Mick O'Shea. He gets DLA and a car through the Motability scheme. He won £10.2million on the lottery. That's right, on EuroMillions, he pocketed over ten million quid. How the fucking hell does he think it's okay to carry on claiming? WORSE, when challenged, he manages to create a pathetic argument that he is in the right!
He says "I'm entitled to it". I say, "You are a complete cunt of a human being". I do not care what claims you make about having given some money away, helped good causes or helped family. It is morally reprehensible that you decide to claim £6000 per year DLA and a new car every three years. You are a shit for trying to justify your warped-to-fuck stance.
Ask not what you can do for your country, but act like a cunt and see what you can screw from your country.
...
Saturday 4 February 2012
4.2.12 Daily Mail Advert Quota
I am not sure who decides on the make-up of the 120 pages branded as today's Daily Mail, but somehow the person responsible has had a breakdown. How else can one explain the ludicrously low level of actual content?
A scan of the 120 pages to establish the space taken up by adverts reveals that there are in fact no more than 63.6 pages of actual stories, news and features - including competitions, crosswords and over-sized headings. 63.6 / 120 means an astonishingly low 53% of worthwhile information is presented for the 90p charge.
47% is shitty adverts, holiday flights, stuff for old people at rip-off prices and general bollocks does not make this a paper of value. The 90p cost of the paper should really be lowered to 48p. Okay, I accept some adverts are necessary, but from pages 62 to 97 inclusive (36 in a row!) the only non-adverts are a half page gardening feature, and a half page report on a test drive of a car.
Please could the Editor of the Daily Mail consider a revised approach for the Saturday edition. I don't want elasticated trousers, shit shoes you can balance on a finger, aids to help me kneel on the lawn, climb on to my roof, or get in a bath. I do not want to buy seeds, transfer old photos on to any other format, protect myself from DVT, or sit like a cunt in a wingback chair. My sofas do not need recovering, I don't fancy a fucking scooter or a stairlift. Support tights are not my thing, nor are thermal socks, Scandinavian slippers, braces or plant pots. I think I will pass on solar panels, conservatories, replacement kitchen doors. I fear that despite all of this detail, you'll publish the exact same shit next week as well.
...
A scan of the 120 pages to establish the space taken up by adverts reveals that there are in fact no more than 63.6 pages of actual stories, news and features - including competitions, crosswords and over-sized headings. 63.6 / 120 means an astonishingly low 53% of worthwhile information is presented for the 90p charge.
47% is shitty adverts, holiday flights, stuff for old people at rip-off prices and general bollocks does not make this a paper of value. The 90p cost of the paper should really be lowered to 48p. Okay, I accept some adverts are necessary, but from pages 62 to 97 inclusive (36 in a row!) the only non-adverts are a half page gardening feature, and a half page report on a test drive of a car.
Please could the Editor of the Daily Mail consider a revised approach for the Saturday edition. I don't want elasticated trousers, shit shoes you can balance on a finger, aids to help me kneel on the lawn, climb on to my roof, or get in a bath. I do not want to buy seeds, transfer old photos on to any other format, protect myself from DVT, or sit like a cunt in a wingback chair. My sofas do not need recovering, I don't fancy a fucking scooter or a stairlift. Support tights are not my thing, nor are thermal socks, Scandinavian slippers, braces or plant pots. I think I will pass on solar panels, conservatories, replacement kitchen doors. I fear that despite all of this detail, you'll publish the exact same shit next week as well.
...
4.2.12 HMV - Shame On You!
Apparently there's a policy at HMV that should delight all the shoplifters in the UK. It states that security guards should avoid all confrontations with suspects that have the potential to escalate into something more serious. This includes trying to catch thieves once they have carried their stolen goods through the exit doors. So, just to clarify, then, shoplifters should be left to escape if they can get past the door. I suggest tactics of pretending to shop for a while and getting hold of a number of CDs and DVDs; then, after loitering near the front door, making a dash for it. The HMV policy is that you'll not be chased.
What is pathetic about this cunt of a policy is that until someone leaves a store without having paid for the goods, he/she cannot be accused of theft. This is barmy; inside the store you're a legitimate shopper and valued customer, but over the threshold, you're a thief who's allowed to fuck off with the goods! I think HMV twats took some sort of direction from the Middle Ages system of justice. You know - if you drown, you're innocent, but if you come out of the water, you're guilty.
So, here we have a company that's on its knees, struggling not to go bust, but deciding that it ought to reward non-paying visitors. I know the people running the company are serious about this policy because they have just sacked a security guard for breaching the policy. That's right - a security guard chased a shoplifter and caught the bloke (and the 20 stolen DVDs) just 30ft away from the shop. Mr Oloro should have been commended for doing a good job, but no - apparently he would have been better mumbling "Oh, bother" whilst standing by the door after the bloke walked outside the shop. There is no cuntin' point in having a security guard if the policy is not to allow any guard to apprehend a shoplifter! Duhhhh !!!!!
Mr Oloro has worked for HMV for 14 years, and clearly loyalty is not taken into account for anything. Shame on you, HMV - this behaviour is corporate cuntism! I suggest that Mr Oloro offers his services to shops in the vicinity; I am sure that one of them would be pleased to employ an on-the-ball person to guard their wares.
This story remind me of another recent incident, where a traffic warden was sacked for refusing to issue large numbers of tickets to "extract as much cash as possible" from motorists. Mr Hakim Berkani was in a tribunal, explaining the severe pressure he was under, tasked with issuing at least ten tickets per shift. NSL was the parking firm used by Kensington and Chelsea Council, and both parties would seem to be morally fucked if they are enforcing and condoning (respectively) such tactics to raise money.
So, employers are dodgy as fuck, or stupid as fuck. Either way, everyone ends up being fucked - the employees, the companies that lose money, motorists who are victimised and the shoppers who pay higher prices to cover losses through theft.
...
What is pathetic about this cunt of a policy is that until someone leaves a store without having paid for the goods, he/she cannot be accused of theft. This is barmy; inside the store you're a legitimate shopper and valued customer, but over the threshold, you're a thief who's allowed to fuck off with the goods! I think HMV twats took some sort of direction from the Middle Ages system of justice. You know - if you drown, you're innocent, but if you come out of the water, you're guilty.
So, here we have a company that's on its knees, struggling not to go bust, but deciding that it ought to reward non-paying visitors. I know the people running the company are serious about this policy because they have just sacked a security guard for breaching the policy. That's right - a security guard chased a shoplifter and caught the bloke (and the 20 stolen DVDs) just 30ft away from the shop. Mr Oloro should have been commended for doing a good job, but no - apparently he would have been better mumbling "Oh, bother" whilst standing by the door after the bloke walked outside the shop. There is no cuntin' point in having a security guard if the policy is not to allow any guard to apprehend a shoplifter! Duhhhh !!!!!
Mr Oloro has worked for HMV for 14 years, and clearly loyalty is not taken into account for anything. Shame on you, HMV - this behaviour is corporate cuntism! I suggest that Mr Oloro offers his services to shops in the vicinity; I am sure that one of them would be pleased to employ an on-the-ball person to guard their wares.
This story remind me of another recent incident, where a traffic warden was sacked for refusing to issue large numbers of tickets to "extract as much cash as possible" from motorists. Mr Hakim Berkani was in a tribunal, explaining the severe pressure he was under, tasked with issuing at least ten tickets per shift. NSL was the parking firm used by Kensington and Chelsea Council, and both parties would seem to be morally fucked if they are enforcing and condoning (respectively) such tactics to raise money.
So, employers are dodgy as fuck, or stupid as fuck. Either way, everyone ends up being fucked - the employees, the companies that lose money, motorists who are victimised and the shoppers who pay higher prices to cover losses through theft.
...
Friday 3 February 2012
3.2.12 Harveys Sponsors Coronation Street
Harveys used to have reasonable (tolerable) mini-adverts, as the sponsor of Coronation Street. "Harveys - bringing your home to life" was perfectly acceptable and did not cause any issues. However, things have changed - and NOT for the better!
Now we have two twats poncing about, acting like complete cunts. These two women are totally thick and treat the bloke like an arsehole. They are condescending to such an outrageous degree that it must mean a breach of some fucking code or other. If this was two blokes on a couch treating a woman in such a way, there would be an outcry that would lift the roof off the O2. However, just like in "Loose Women", it seems it's okay for females to be cunts if it's a male getting the poor deal.
So, who's at fault for this sorry state of affairs? Is it the two fuckers who treat the bloke like a doormat, or is it the bloke himself for being so pissing spineless in the face of their nauseating behaviour? It's neither! The party at fault is most definitely Harveys!!! How on earth anyone thought this was a good basis for portraying the company I cannot fathom. For Harveys to endorse such shitty interaction and believe it suggests to people some sort of positive vibe that might lead to them buying furniture is LAUGHABLE, and sad.
Do something about it, Harveys. Fucking warped and pathetic, and so cuntin' annoying to watch as well. Granada TV - I suggest you have a word in the Harveys shell-like, and convince some twat with a degree in marketing that he needs to sharpen his pencil, place it in his pencil case and then fuck off and empty the bins.
...
Now we have two twats poncing about, acting like complete cunts. These two women are totally thick and treat the bloke like an arsehole. They are condescending to such an outrageous degree that it must mean a breach of some fucking code or other. If this was two blokes on a couch treating a woman in such a way, there would be an outcry that would lift the roof off the O2. However, just like in "Loose Women", it seems it's okay for females to be cunts if it's a male getting the poor deal.
So, who's at fault for this sorry state of affairs? Is it the two fuckers who treat the bloke like a doormat, or is it the bloke himself for being so pissing spineless in the face of their nauseating behaviour? It's neither! The party at fault is most definitely Harveys!!! How on earth anyone thought this was a good basis for portraying the company I cannot fathom. For Harveys to endorse such shitty interaction and believe it suggests to people some sort of positive vibe that might lead to them buying furniture is LAUGHABLE, and sad.
Do something about it, Harveys. Fucking warped and pathetic, and so cuntin' annoying to watch as well. Granada TV - I suggest you have a word in the Harveys shell-like, and convince some twat with a degree in marketing that he needs to sharpen his pencil, place it in his pencil case and then fuck off and empty the bins.
...
3.2.12 Top Totty
The House of Commons bar has had one of its beers removed from sale, after a complaint from Kate Green. She is the 'shadow equalities' minister, and clearly takes her role of pain-in-the-arse quite seriously. She protested, and demanded that the beer be taken off the shelves, and apparently called for a debate on "dignity at work in Parliament". Get a life, you sour twat.
The Top Totty ale is described as a "stunning blonde beer, full bodied with a voluptuous hop aroma". It lasted just three days on sale in Strangers Bar, before the over-reaction of Ms Green led to its removal. If this woman is so fucking up tight, then I dare say that it is hell having anything to do with her. As the local UKIP MP said: "This suggests that to be in favour of equality you must be sour-faced insult-searching misery". What a fucking excellent quote, Mr Nattrass - well done!
Meanwhile, I would like to advocate my own rather daring ale, which has a rather more offensive name, one that I am quite sure Ms Green will not fully appreciate!
Apologies for reposting a photo or two, but it rather fits the story, and whilst the Strangers Bar at the Houses of Parliament might not be too keen to sell this brand and incur the wrath of Ms Green, I am quite sure another establishment would be up for it . . . .
...
The Top Totty ale is described as a "stunning blonde beer, full bodied with a voluptuous hop aroma". It lasted just three days on sale in Strangers Bar, before the over-reaction of Ms Green led to its removal. If this woman is so fucking up tight, then I dare say that it is hell having anything to do with her. As the local UKIP MP said: "This suggests that to be in favour of equality you must be sour-faced insult-searching misery". What a fucking excellent quote, Mr Nattrass - well done!
Meanwhile, I would like to advocate my own rather daring ale, which has a rather more offensive name, one that I am quite sure Ms Green will not fully appreciate!
Apologies for reposting a photo or two, but it rather fits the story, and whilst the Strangers Bar at the Houses of Parliament might not be too keen to sell this brand and incur the wrath of Ms Green, I am quite sure another establishment would be up for it . . . .
...
Thursday 2 February 2012
2.2.12 John Terry Trial Farce
Fucking criminal! No, I haven't even got to John Terry, yet. I am talking about the 'decision' to postpone the trial until July. WTF? I rather think that anyone else calling someone a "Fucking Black Cunt" [sorry, I mean allegedly, as there is some dispute apparently, as to whether he said this or the oh-so-much-better "Fucking Blind Cunt"] would be dealt with rather more quickly and severely.
The fine, if he is eventually convicted, is one of "up to £2500" - a stupid level of punishment for someone who earns that much (pre-tax) in three hours! What would be a whole lot more interesting is some inside knowledge of what the FA might decide to do if/when JT is found guilty. Surely if Suarez is given an eight match ban, JT should be up for rather more, considering the overtness of the attack on Anton Ferdinand, caught on camera.
I don't give a donkey's cunt whether we suffer at the Euro Championships through JT being missing. He is actually becoming a donkey, and to my mind is not now up to the job of stopping fast attackers - without nudging, kicking, holding and of course abusing, allegedly. Should England take JT to Poland, and should England do well (I know, I know, fat chance) I would be disgusted that JT had been allowed to play a part in the tournament anyway. What would the general view be if he contributed to a good result, and was found guilty of being a cunt afterwards? That would make England's achievement look rather tarnished. To have delayed on the basis that it would do harm to the national interests at the Euro Championships would be the most awful basis for postponement. The FA could be judged hypocritical, if it can't deal properly with racism - something (again, allegedly) it wants to 'stamp out'. It will be a travesty if JT takes his place in the team. The only thing that would be worse is if he is allowed to be Captain. That would really show the world we are not serious about punishing racism, and useless at making decisions: two-faced then.
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The fine, if he is eventually convicted, is one of "up to £2500" - a stupid level of punishment for someone who earns that much (pre-tax) in three hours! What would be a whole lot more interesting is some inside knowledge of what the FA might decide to do if/when JT is found guilty. Surely if Suarez is given an eight match ban, JT should be up for rather more, considering the overtness of the attack on Anton Ferdinand, caught on camera.
I don't give a donkey's cunt whether we suffer at the Euro Championships through JT being missing. He is actually becoming a donkey, and to my mind is not now up to the job of stopping fast attackers - without nudging, kicking, holding and of course abusing, allegedly. Should England take JT to Poland, and should England do well (I know, I know, fat chance) I would be disgusted that JT had been allowed to play a part in the tournament anyway. What would the general view be if he contributed to a good result, and was found guilty of being a cunt afterwards? That would make England's achievement look rather tarnished. To have delayed on the basis that it would do harm to the national interests at the Euro Championships would be the most awful basis for postponement. The FA could be judged hypocritical, if it can't deal properly with racism - something (again, allegedly) it wants to 'stamp out'. It will be a travesty if JT takes his place in the team. The only thing that would be worse is if he is allowed to be Captain. That would really show the world we are not serious about punishing racism, and useless at making decisions: two-faced then.
...
Wednesday 1 February 2012
1.2.12 January Jess of the Month
1st Place - "I have that Eastenders bird as this year's sack of tatties" [Commenting on Laila's inclusion in the line-up for Dancing On Ice]
2nd Place - "Who's Beau Parl?" [Not quite in sync, with no awareness of the Bhopal disaster]
3rd Place - "I can't believe you ever tried a samosa, especially as it's a triangle" [To TMWSC]
4th Place - "If Liam was on Guess Who and someone says 'Does he have a beard?' you wouldn't flick him down" [Arguing over what length of facial hair constitutes having a beard]
5th Place - "It constitutes a beard when it's off the face" [Further clarification]
6th Place - "Men have bladders like camels" [Meaning men can store loads of liquid]
7th Place - "You'd be constantly looking at people's exhausts, you're that low down" [Explaining why she would never want to own a sports car]
8th Place - "Effin boom!" [Text message, after Middlesbrough scored against Sunderland]
9th Place - "You going on a bin run?" [To TMWSC, referring so putting a carrier bag of kitchen waste into the dustbin by the back door - hardly a momentous escapade worthy of being called a 'Bin Run']
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2nd Place - "Who's Beau Parl?" [Not quite in sync, with no awareness of the Bhopal disaster]
3rd Place - "I can't believe you ever tried a samosa, especially as it's a triangle" [To TMWSC]
4th Place - "If Liam was on Guess Who and someone says 'Does he have a beard?' you wouldn't flick him down" [Arguing over what length of facial hair constitutes having a beard]
5th Place - "It constitutes a beard when it's off the face" [Further clarification]
6th Place - "Men have bladders like camels" [Meaning men can store loads of liquid]
7th Place - "You'd be constantly looking at people's exhausts, you're that low down" [Explaining why she would never want to own a sports car]
8th Place - "Effin boom!" [Text message, after Middlesbrough scored against Sunderland]
9th Place - "You going on a bin run?" [To TMWSC, referring so putting a carrier bag of kitchen waste into the dustbin by the back door - hardly a momentous escapade worthy of being called a 'Bin Run']
...
1.2.12 January Quotes of the Month
1st Place - "My father is not a monster, he's a brilliant seafarer" [Daughter of Captain Francesco Schettino, who was in charge of the Costa Concordia]
2nd Place - "People who steal stretches and yawns are absolute fucking criminals" [Liam, after Jess robbed him of an indulgence by prodding him]
3rd Place - "They're not hypocritical, they're just thick" [Ken Morley, remarking on his fellow competitors on Celebrity Five Go To Lanzarote]
4th Place - "Jess's hiccups are the verbal equivalent of throwing a boomerang" [TMWSC, after 'experiencing' a series of sonic booms which turned out to be hiccups]
5th Place - "I've met people I'd never meet before" [Illiterate twat of a woman on Come Dine With Me]
6th Place - "She's always doing something that doesn't involve doing anything" [TMWSC, remarking on the useless shop worker at the Co-op]
7th Place - "I think somebody's just arsed it" [Dave, a work colleague, giving his technical opinion on how a massive invoicing error occurred]
8th Place - "You could fell a camel with that" [TMWSC, commenting on the potency of a third party's fart, trying to go one better than Liam's comment suggesting it could 'stop a marine']
9th Place - "If you look back historically . . . . " [Martin Keown on Match of the Day; thanks, Martin - are you sure you didn't want to add "over your shoulder" to make extra sure?]
10th Place - "The timescales with poo are completely different from the timescales with needing a wee" [TMWSC, in conversation in a car, on the matter of being caught short]
11th Place - "The music industry is great . . . . you get introduced to so much people" [Wretch32]
12th Place - "She looks like a wardrobe with no clothes in it" [TMWSC, after seeing a picture in the paper of Demi Moore with a long hollow face]
13th Place - "One of the things that hold me in good steed is . . . ." [Jason, at work, choosing the wrong word]
14th Place - "It's important to win football matches" [Kenny Dalglish, stating the obvious in an interview after a match (which Liverpool won)]
15th Place - "This unwelcome guest seems to have handcuffed themself to the post" [Commentator on Match of the Day, getting in a grammatical pickle]
16th Place - "People have a lot of misconceptions about California, but none of them are really true" [Channel 4 advert; yes, luv, that's why they're called MISconceptions]
17th Place - "When he was a star of that stellar Middlesbrough youth team" [Commentator, a bit 'star-struck']
18th Place - "The only person they have to compete with is themselves" [Useless and grammatically flawed comment from Robin Cousins on Dancing On Ice]
...
2nd Place - "People who steal stretches and yawns are absolute fucking criminals" [Liam, after Jess robbed him of an indulgence by prodding him]
3rd Place - "They're not hypocritical, they're just thick" [Ken Morley, remarking on his fellow competitors on Celebrity Five Go To Lanzarote]
4th Place - "Jess's hiccups are the verbal equivalent of throwing a boomerang" [TMWSC, after 'experiencing' a series of sonic booms which turned out to be hiccups]
5th Place - "I've met people I'd never meet before" [Illiterate twat of a woman on Come Dine With Me]
6th Place - "She's always doing something that doesn't involve doing anything" [TMWSC, remarking on the useless shop worker at the Co-op]
7th Place - "I think somebody's just arsed it" [Dave, a work colleague, giving his technical opinion on how a massive invoicing error occurred]
8th Place - "You could fell a camel with that" [TMWSC, commenting on the potency of a third party's fart, trying to go one better than Liam's comment suggesting it could 'stop a marine']
9th Place - "If you look back historically . . . . " [Martin Keown on Match of the Day; thanks, Martin - are you sure you didn't want to add "over your shoulder" to make extra sure?]
10th Place - "The timescales with poo are completely different from the timescales with needing a wee" [TMWSC, in conversation in a car, on the matter of being caught short]
11th Place - "The music industry is great . . . . you get introduced to so much people" [Wretch32]
12th Place - "She looks like a wardrobe with no clothes in it" [TMWSC, after seeing a picture in the paper of Demi Moore with a long hollow face]
13th Place - "One of the things that hold me in good steed is . . . ." [Jason, at work, choosing the wrong word]
14th Place - "It's important to win football matches" [Kenny Dalglish, stating the obvious in an interview after a match (which Liverpool won)]
15th Place - "This unwelcome guest seems to have handcuffed themself to the post" [Commentator on Match of the Day, getting in a grammatical pickle]
16th Place - "People have a lot of misconceptions about California, but none of them are really true" [Channel 4 advert; yes, luv, that's why they're called MISconceptions]
17th Place - "When he was a star of that stellar Middlesbrough youth team" [Commentator, a bit 'star-struck']
18th Place - "The only person they have to compete with is themselves" [Useless and grammatically flawed comment from Robin Cousins on Dancing On Ice]
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