The rules are fuckin' stupid, and the (retail) world has gone made. There are cunts everywhere who now seem empowered to dictate how we live our lives, and can call the shots.
Take drinking; totally legal in every way at 18 years old. In fact, I was given to believe that with a family meal, it's not against the law for a parent to condone a drink for a child younger than this(?) Anyway, 18 is simple, and as the whole world has to carry ID now, proving your age is straightforward. The requirement for this is determined by a sales assistant considering that you might be under 25 years old. Considering a large proportion of the twats serving have the intellect and skill of a doughnut, this probably means that some young-looking folk are pestered for ID when they are perhaps 28! - 10 years above the legal age to drink alcohol.
If you're under 25, are asked for ID, and have ID proving you are 18+, then someone at a till will ring up a sale. However, all of the above applies Mon-Thu. For at a (long) weekend, and I think it may be a regional policy rather than a national one, there is an embargo on sales to anyone who's not 21+ and can prove it.
The result of this cuntin shit is quite simple. Picture the scene. After a long week working hard, a twenty-year-old bloke drives back to his own home on a Friday evening and has his tea. He puts his kid to bed, and he and his wife decide that they have enough cash to hire a movie and get a bottle of wine to share. Being 20 years old, a driver, a voter, a mortgage payer and a father, the hard-working chap has no reason to think there will be any problem. However, at the local "convenience" store, he gets to the till holding a bottle of wine, and he has ID with him to show he's 21 the following month. However, staring at him is a cunt.
The till operator, someone less experienced than our chap who operates heavy machinery and computerised testing equipment, is staring through big glasses and trying to assess his age. She demands ID and is handed a driving licence. With complete triumph, the cunt in an apron announces that she's sorry, and she cannot serve him as he is not 21. This is complete fuckin' discrimination and totally out of order. Yet, it happens every week, certainly in this part of the country. Not only is the whole stupid approach flawed and unacceptable, there has somehow been a transference of power from the legitimate customer to a cunt with attitude.
What will we see next? A soldier on leave from Afghanistan who's queued for 5 minutes being denied a beer? He can be shot at and escape death by an inch on the other side of the world, but at the local Tesco Express or Sainsburys, he cannot get a Heineken!
Yet, as long as you have ID, you can of course get a pint in a pub on any day if you're 18 - what inconsistency.
Who are these measures designed to help? Underage drinkers continue to merrily drink, and antisocial behaviour persists - carried out by people who are inherently criminal/antisocial, and more than occasionally a bit pissed, whatever useless policies are in place regarding the sale of alcohol. Meanwhile, innocent citizens and customers who act responsibly are victimised.
Absolutely fuckin' criminal, I say!
Saturday, 30 October 2010
Thursday, 28 October 2010
28.10.10 Coleen
What a useless waste of space she is! A 'pathetic statement' made its way to the tabloids today, in the form of -
"Me and Wayne deserved a break"
What an illiterate female, and how totally inappropriate. 'Wayne and I' would of course have been the correct phrase, but still totally out of order. The two of them do not deserve a break, for fuck's sake. How can they deserve a break? They've done fuck all except milk the sytem for dosh and suit themselves in every respect. Spud-head and his companion are so into money that they have lost all sense of reality, assuming they possessed it in the first place. Without the ability to kick a ball, he would be claiming jobseeker's allowance and she, without her potato-face sweetheart, would be pushing a buggy round an estate, hoping for a flat of her own soon.
What a fuckin' mess the world is in when these two command so much of the space in newspapers!
"Me and Wayne deserved a break"
What an illiterate female, and how totally inappropriate. 'Wayne and I' would of course have been the correct phrase, but still totally out of order. The two of them do not deserve a break, for fuck's sake. How can they deserve a break? They've done fuck all except milk the sytem for dosh and suit themselves in every respect. Spud-head and his companion are so into money that they have lost all sense of reality, assuming they possessed it in the first place. Without the ability to kick a ball, he would be claiming jobseeker's allowance and she, without her potato-face sweetheart, would be pushing a buggy round an estate, hoping for a flat of her own soon.
What a fuckin' mess the world is in when these two command so much of the space in newspapers!
Wednesday, 27 October 2010
27.10.10 Marcel Marceau
Although the most celebrated mime artist Marcel Marceau died in 2007, there is a growing view that he has come back to us, after his spirit latched on to another human. After a relatively subdued initial presence, Marcel's spirit has started to become much more visible in the last 12 months. I can reveal that his spirit now resides within the body/persona of one Cheryl Cole. Anyone who watched X-Factor last Saturday cannot have failed to see Marcel giving his best ever mime performance via the 'efforts' of CC, who stropped about on stage while silently mouthing useless lyrics. She is thus a puppet whose value is nil, but behind her is a true talent - MM.
Cheryl is obviously deluded, and thinks we appreciate her not for having a good right hook in the toilets, but for her 'singing talent', good looks and reported 'National Treasure' status. However, she cannot sing, is not a treasure, and is blatant with her display of double standards. To mime while criticising and judging others who perform live is pathetic; CC could not judge which is the heavier - a kilo of feathers or a kilo of shit!
Cheryl is obviously deluded, and thinks we appreciate her not for having a good right hook in the toilets, but for her 'singing talent', good looks and reported 'National Treasure' status. However, she cannot sing, is not a treasure, and is blatant with her display of double standards. To mime while criticising and judging others who perform live is pathetic; CC could not judge which is the heavier - a kilo of feathers or a kilo of shit!
Tuesday, 26 October 2010
26.10.10 Halloween
It's only 26th October, and I have today seen my first 'Guy'. Bonfire Night is still 10 days away, and we have all yet to get past the awful Halloween shit that's engulfed the fuckin' country. So, on Friday night there will be mayhem nationwide as different factions of the population adopt approaches that fit with their various outlooks. Some will get pissed because it's a special occasion; some will go to a party and get pissed, possibly dressing up as well; some parents will accompany their offspring and knock on doors, annoying occupants but getting away with it; some parents will have no clue where their kids are or why all the eggs have gone missing from the pantry (or the fridge, in households where there remains a mistaken belief that eggs require such an ambience). Some teenage cunts will cause terror and havoc with stunts, threats, criminal activities and thuggery, all convinced that 'trick or treat' night gives them the excuse to interpret things slightly differently, so that they have an opportunity to 'extort and/or punish'.
The majority, who will be at home watching TV, will hope that no one knocks the door, throws eggs at the house, scratches the car, digs up flowers, or breaks a window. If there is a knock at the door, a secondary wish will kick in, relating to a hope that a couple of Quality Street will be enough to make the caller(s) fuck off without reaction and dire consequences in line with the aforementioned.
From Saturday onwards, the shops will be trying to sell off the shitty costumes and props associated with Halloween, but no one will want them. The streets will be littered with fucked-up pumpkins, and egg shells.
All the shelf space will immediately be given over to Christmas shit, to complement the crap that's been on shelves since cuntin' August.
As for today's sighting of a 'Guy', I must highlight the state of the country as reflected in the quality of the 'chap' in question. Two scallies decided to stand outside ASDA in full chav regalia and look like refugees. The 'excuse for a Guy' on the floor in the corner was something the average 3-year-old could knock up in a 30 minute craft lesson at Nursery. I considered walking up to them (for a laugh) and waiting for the standard request - 'Penny for the Guy'. Upon hearing this, I would have proffered quite simply a penny. I am sure the twats would not have got the joke. Whilst it would have been well worth a penny for entertainment value, I had shopping to load into the car, some destined for the freezer, so had no time to waste.
I wonder if this week there might be the first sighting of carol singers, in which case we could all enjoy a melee (or perhaps a medley) of inputs, with calls for "penny for the guy" mingling with "Jingle Bells", under a showers of eggs. Roll on Easter.
The majority, who will be at home watching TV, will hope that no one knocks the door, throws eggs at the house, scratches the car, digs up flowers, or breaks a window. If there is a knock at the door, a secondary wish will kick in, relating to a hope that a couple of Quality Street will be enough to make the caller(s) fuck off without reaction and dire consequences in line with the aforementioned.
From Saturday onwards, the shops will be trying to sell off the shitty costumes and props associated with Halloween, but no one will want them. The streets will be littered with fucked-up pumpkins, and egg shells.
All the shelf space will immediately be given over to Christmas shit, to complement the crap that's been on shelves since cuntin' August.
As for today's sighting of a 'Guy', I must highlight the state of the country as reflected in the quality of the 'chap' in question. Two scallies decided to stand outside ASDA in full chav regalia and look like refugees. The 'excuse for a Guy' on the floor in the corner was something the average 3-year-old could knock up in a 30 minute craft lesson at Nursery. I considered walking up to them (for a laugh) and waiting for the standard request - 'Penny for the Guy'. Upon hearing this, I would have proffered quite simply a penny. I am sure the twats would not have got the joke. Whilst it would have been well worth a penny for entertainment value, I had shopping to load into the car, some destined for the freezer, so had no time to waste.
I wonder if this week there might be the first sighting of carol singers, in which case we could all enjoy a melee (or perhaps a medley) of inputs, with calls for "penny for the guy" mingling with "Jingle Bells", under a showers of eggs. Roll on Easter.
26.10.10 Wife Abuse
Location: Tinned foods aisle in ASDA.
Time/Date: 1.10pm today, 26th October
Background Info:
In full view of hundreds of shoppers, including me, a couple aged about 50 were doing their shopping. While half way along the aisle, I saw and heard the woman, who uttered in what can only be described as a whining, pining voice -
"There you are - you left me all on my own with the trolley, and it was horrible"
The husband clearly deserves to be flogged for this act of supreme selfishness, and causing through absolute neglect of his responsibilities a state of worry and panic in his wife. Her mental anguish brought on my being abandoned in a warm, well-lit environment for just a minute while he attempted to locate something for their joint benefit was truly awful. I was tempted to offer the stupid cunt some advice and details of how to find a 'half-way house' / refuge, but thought better of it. Instead, I moved on, and worked out which boxes of Carlsberg offered the best value in terms of price per can.
Time/Date: 1.10pm today, 26th October
Background Info:
In full view of hundreds of shoppers, including me, a couple aged about 50 were doing their shopping. While half way along the aisle, I saw and heard the woman, who uttered in what can only be described as a whining, pining voice -
"There you are - you left me all on my own with the trolley, and it was horrible"
The husband clearly deserves to be flogged for this act of supreme selfishness, and causing through absolute neglect of his responsibilities a state of worry and panic in his wife. Her mental anguish brought on my being abandoned in a warm, well-lit environment for just a minute while he attempted to locate something for their joint benefit was truly awful. I was tempted to offer the stupid cunt some advice and details of how to find a 'half-way house' / refuge, but thought better of it. Instead, I moved on, and worked out which boxes of Carlsberg offered the best value in terms of price per can.
Sunday, 24 October 2010
24.10.10 Film Credits
I'm so fucked off with the cunts who oversee the links between TV programmes. Most commonly, I find myself fuming at the end of a film. It seems to be something of a mission for channel operators to shrink the rolling credits to a smaller window, bring up details of the following programme, and then waffle about 'what's next'.
So, after sitting through 90 minutes of entertainment, and wanting to ascertain the names of a couple of the cast, I find the cunts denying me this option. Of course, they don't hang on a few minutes until the credits of lesser importance are showing - no, rather than minimise the 'Key Grip' or the 'Gaffer', they reduce to unreadable the names of the key members of the cast in a mad rush to announce some useless detail on the following programme. Cunts.
So, after sitting through 90 minutes of entertainment, and wanting to ascertain the names of a couple of the cast, I find the cunts denying me this option. Of course, they don't hang on a few minutes until the credits of lesser importance are showing - no, rather than minimise the 'Key Grip' or the 'Gaffer', they reduce to unreadable the names of the key members of the cast in a mad rush to announce some useless detail on the following programme. Cunts.
24.10.10 Keown Parlance
What wonderful gibberish was uttered during the commentary yesterday, for the match between Doncaster Rovers and Sheffield United. It typified the 'football-speak' so prevalent these days. The following were all from Martin Keown.
"Let's see if there's something in their locker"
"He showed good quality on his strike"
"He's very calm in the build-up then gets on his bike"
" . . . down the left hand side, and at the end of it, I like his quality"
"Good quality, hasn't he"
"At the moment, Sheffield Utd are not playing football"
"There's no real tempo to their game"
"They're just trying to raise that tempo now"
"Every time you come here to watch them play, it's great to see them play football"
"They've had that philosophy of passing the ball"
The art of better English, as demonstrated by Mr Keown
"Let's see if there's something in their locker"
"He showed good quality on his strike"
"He's very calm in the build-up then gets on his bike"
" . . . down the left hand side, and at the end of it, I like his quality"
"Good quality, hasn't he"
"At the moment, Sheffield Utd are not playing football"
"There's no real tempo to their game"
"They're just trying to raise that tempo now"
"Every time you come here to watch them play, it's great to see them play football"
"They've had that philosophy of passing the ball"
The art of better English, as demonstrated by Mr Keown
Friday, 22 October 2010
22.10.10 Wayne
What a useless, spoilt, ugly, greedy, self-serving, disloyal, selfish waster. Today it was announced that he'd 'kissed and made up', and signed a 5-year contract. All the shenanigans surrounding WR over the last two weeks have been more painful than the X-Factor crap! Nevertheless, reading about Wagner's dissatisfaction and his pension for smoking weed was of more interest than Wayne's pathetic attempts to try and relay details on why he wanted to leave Man Utd, all staged anyway. The whole business was a ploy to get a 100% + increase on his wages, from '£ obscene per week' to '£ downright fucking criminal per week'. His agent clearly managed to train him (by rewarding him with nuts etc.) to grunt and sulk and say things at the right time, before landing a new deal. How we have all rejoiced today! - like fuck we 'ave.
Football is full of thugs demanding money - the game has become corrupt and tarnished. People are so far up their own arses, the whole sport (especially the Premier League) will implode at some point.
Football is full of thugs demanding money - the game has become corrupt and tarnished. People are so far up their own arses, the whole sport (especially the Premier League) will implode at some point.
22.10.10 Wintry Showers
When does a fuckin' shower become 'Wintry'? Does it depend on the date, the temperature, the location or the mood/competence of the forecaster? Before all of this, what about the word itself; it's a shit word.
It can only mean 'like Winter, or associated with Winter', but somehow the 'e' is dropped when adding the 'y'. The media have chosen to adopt this shortened version of Wintery; both are technically acceptable, but the glee with which TV and radio forecasters use 'Wintry' is nauseating. If something is associated with Summer, then the term is 'Summery' (not Summry - thank God). If anyone were to use Summry instead of 'Summery' then in summary, I'd say they ought to be summarily dismissed!
So, back to the adjective concerned. What actually makes a shower 'Wintry'? I contest that water falling from the sky in Winter is not in fact enough to warrant the description. This is because I hear forecasters saying things like " . . and they could turn Wintry on high ground" when referring to showers. So, a shower can apparently become 'Wintry'. I have never heard that a shower falling in July might turn 'Summery'!
We are well into the time when many showers will now be 'Wintry'. The term becomes relevant from September - which was when I heard the first reference, a few weeks ago - and it will continue to be used until the end of April (as was the case this year). So, 'Wintry' showers fall for 8 months of the year, and for the other 4 months, we get ordinary showers that fall in the Summer.
What a load of bollocks!
It can only mean 'like Winter, or associated with Winter', but somehow the 'e' is dropped when adding the 'y'. The media have chosen to adopt this shortened version of Wintery; both are technically acceptable, but the glee with which TV and radio forecasters use 'Wintry' is nauseating. If something is associated with Summer, then the term is 'Summery' (not Summry - thank God). If anyone were to use Summry instead of 'Summery' then in summary, I'd say they ought to be summarily dismissed!
So, back to the adjective concerned. What actually makes a shower 'Wintry'? I contest that water falling from the sky in Winter is not in fact enough to warrant the description. This is because I hear forecasters saying things like " . . and they could turn Wintry on high ground" when referring to showers. So, a shower can apparently become 'Wintry'. I have never heard that a shower falling in July might turn 'Summery'!
We are well into the time when many showers will now be 'Wintry'. The term becomes relevant from September - which was when I heard the first reference, a few weeks ago - and it will continue to be used until the end of April (as was the case this year). So, 'Wintry' showers fall for 8 months of the year, and for the other 4 months, we get ordinary showers that fall in the Summer.
What a load of bollocks!
Thursday, 21 October 2010
21.10.10 Screw The Driver
Everything works against the car driver. The whole conspiracy to rip off anyone with a car starts before anyone passes a test!
First is the need for a provisional licence - it'll cost you. Then it's a case of finding a decent driving instructor (which is often pot luck) and deciding how many hundreds of pounds need to be allocated to pissing about in a Fiesta. Many years ago, it was normal practice for an instructor to confirm an expectation that if things look okay after about 3 lessons, it would be sensible to book a test. The aim was actually to have 10 lessons and then a test. That sensible, helpful and reasonable ethos has been lost. Now, instructors have no incentive to get you to pass quickly. In effect, the better the job they do, the less they will earn. That's a recipe for disaster - for the learner. So, with lessons typically at £15-£20 for just an hour, a slow learner is just what an instructor needs.
The Driving Test, when you eventually take it, will cost you. Obviously you'll first have had to pass the re-re-revised version of the theory test, where you need to display not only some sense of how to spot hazards and be safe on the roads, but confirm you're aware of a whole load of shit that's got fuck all to do with driving a car. On the test itself, your chance of passing is less than the payout rate on a fruit machine, because of the conspiracy to keep the industry fleecing motorists and would-be motorists. The latest revision to the practical test means drivers must know their way around, and be able to drive to some set locations; more grief for the learner, and extra hours needed in preparation.
After hundreds (if not thousands) of pounds, you might have a full licence. Beware; if you fuck-up in the first two years, you'll be penalised heavily, and new drivers are banned after just 6 points are gained - easily done when the cunts are out with cameras etc. If you do get flashed twice at 35mph in a 30 zone, you'll lose your licence - and in effect it's "Go Back To Old Kent Road". You'll need to start all over again, with a provisional licence, etc. More money for the system.
The car you want will have to be one with a very small engine, and even then, the best quote you'll get on insurance is around £1000. So, you're now set to drive, after ensuring you have an MOT and Car Tax. If you have any sort of accident requiring a claim on the insurance, you're fucked for ages. The cost of repair is taken into account by the insurers when they reassess you. The fact that bodyshops/garages charge ludicrous amounts means that your dent may lead to a bill for £600+, and boy you'll pay on the next premium. NB: The excess amount will potentially be crippling for some.
The joys of motoring are all yours - petrol or diesel at very attractive low prices, free parking everywhere, no congestion charges, emission zone charges or tolls to pay, no risks of being hit by uninsured drivers, freedom to speed without fear of being caught and ripped off for money, no restrictions in being able to access town centres and no fear of your vehicle being stolen. Local garages will never charge you much for an MOT, parts will always be cheaper than you expected, and car servicing will be a joy to experience.
What cuntin' shit, eh?
First is the need for a provisional licence - it'll cost you. Then it's a case of finding a decent driving instructor (which is often pot luck) and deciding how many hundreds of pounds need to be allocated to pissing about in a Fiesta. Many years ago, it was normal practice for an instructor to confirm an expectation that if things look okay after about 3 lessons, it would be sensible to book a test. The aim was actually to have 10 lessons and then a test. That sensible, helpful and reasonable ethos has been lost. Now, instructors have no incentive to get you to pass quickly. In effect, the better the job they do, the less they will earn. That's a recipe for disaster - for the learner. So, with lessons typically at £15-£20 for just an hour, a slow learner is just what an instructor needs.
The Driving Test, when you eventually take it, will cost you. Obviously you'll first have had to pass the re-re-revised version of the theory test, where you need to display not only some sense of how to spot hazards and be safe on the roads, but confirm you're aware of a whole load of shit that's got fuck all to do with driving a car. On the test itself, your chance of passing is less than the payout rate on a fruit machine, because of the conspiracy to keep the industry fleecing motorists and would-be motorists. The latest revision to the practical test means drivers must know their way around, and be able to drive to some set locations; more grief for the learner, and extra hours needed in preparation.
After hundreds (if not thousands) of pounds, you might have a full licence. Beware; if you fuck-up in the first two years, you'll be penalised heavily, and new drivers are banned after just 6 points are gained - easily done when the cunts are out with cameras etc. If you do get flashed twice at 35mph in a 30 zone, you'll lose your licence - and in effect it's "Go Back To Old Kent Road". You'll need to start all over again, with a provisional licence, etc. More money for the system.
The car you want will have to be one with a very small engine, and even then, the best quote you'll get on insurance is around £1000. So, you're now set to drive, after ensuring you have an MOT and Car Tax. If you have any sort of accident requiring a claim on the insurance, you're fucked for ages. The cost of repair is taken into account by the insurers when they reassess you. The fact that bodyshops/garages charge ludicrous amounts means that your dent may lead to a bill for £600+, and boy you'll pay on the next premium. NB: The excess amount will potentially be crippling for some.
The joys of motoring are all yours - petrol or diesel at very attractive low prices, free parking everywhere, no congestion charges, emission zone charges or tolls to pay, no risks of being hit by uninsured drivers, freedom to speed without fear of being caught and ripped off for money, no restrictions in being able to access town centres and no fear of your vehicle being stolen. Local garages will never charge you much for an MOT, parts will always be cheaper than you expected, and car servicing will be a joy to experience.
What cuntin' shit, eh?
21.10.10 Mars A Day
Forget the old slogan; the new version is -
A Mars a day . . . is Shit!
Whatever Mars has done to its best selling bar, it was not a move for the good. '45% less saturated fat' accompanied by 'Same great taste' are the two strap lines bandied about, only one of which is true. All I know is they do not now taste like they used to. Removing some of the fat simply makes the thing more like a glorified Milky Way!
So, as ever, tampering with something that was not an issue in the first place has fucked it up. Claiming health grounds as a basis for the change is stupid, because if you're a fat cunt, you shouldn't be eating a Mars Bar. Does this mean that everyone now has to suffer because the manufacturers are pandering to the needs (rather, the hopelessness) of a few? Yes!
The same goes for other products. They fucked about with the sweetness of Fanta and other drinks ages ago, claiming all sorts of shit improvements, but the truth is that it tastes worse. Sugar Puffs, there's another disaster. Years ago, they contained a decent amount of sugar, and the cereal was sticky to the touch, and gorgeous to the taste buds. Now, after the cunts in charge have removed anything inherently nice, we are left with something that hardly conforms to Trading Standards. For my money, the boxes should be labelled "Puffs" (although Cardboard Puffs would be acceptable). Again, it's supposed to be for our own good that these improvements have been made. Crap. And the Honey Monster? He's retired. There's less honey than would fill a bee's cunt in one 750g box of 'Puffs'. Now, there's a strap line for you!
The cunt-in-charge is a 'Cereal' Killer.
A Mars a day . . . is Shit!
Whatever Mars has done to its best selling bar, it was not a move for the good. '45% less saturated fat' accompanied by 'Same great taste' are the two strap lines bandied about, only one of which is true. All I know is they do not now taste like they used to. Removing some of the fat simply makes the thing more like a glorified Milky Way!
So, as ever, tampering with something that was not an issue in the first place has fucked it up. Claiming health grounds as a basis for the change is stupid, because if you're a fat cunt, you shouldn't be eating a Mars Bar. Does this mean that everyone now has to suffer because the manufacturers are pandering to the needs (rather, the hopelessness) of a few? Yes!
The same goes for other products. They fucked about with the sweetness of Fanta and other drinks ages ago, claiming all sorts of shit improvements, but the truth is that it tastes worse. Sugar Puffs, there's another disaster. Years ago, they contained a decent amount of sugar, and the cereal was sticky to the touch, and gorgeous to the taste buds. Now, after the cunts in charge have removed anything inherently nice, we are left with something that hardly conforms to Trading Standards. For my money, the boxes should be labelled "Puffs" (although Cardboard Puffs would be acceptable). Again, it's supposed to be for our own good that these improvements have been made. Crap. And the Honey Monster? He's retired. There's less honey than would fill a bee's cunt in one 750g box of 'Puffs'. Now, there's a strap line for you!
The cunt-in-charge is a 'Cereal' Killer.
Sunday, 17 October 2010
17.10.10 National Sport
It's official - the UK's national sport is . . . . . Sofa Buying. You watched the Olympics in 2008, and you've possibly just watched the odd effort from the Commonwealth Games coverage, so you may have been disappointed not to see what the people of the UK do best - buy sofas. If it were a recognised sport/game/pastime, then there's absolutely no doubt that some cunt in the UK would have won a gold medal! Along with some other dubious enterprises (like nut-tightening with a spanner, lard-smearing on a cross-channel swimmer, and riding a fuckin' bike) Sofa Buying would give us an advantage. What with the national obsession with no interest and four years to pay, it ties in quite nicely; no fuckin' interest in the Games, and four years between events. DFS / SCS / CSL are all recognised sponsors of the sport, pouring millions into the pointless and repeated efforts of the population.
We're now in the 'Winter Season', where we are all guaranteed a pre-Christmas delivery of complete nausea at having to endure shit adverts from cunts who want to shift shit so we can watch Wizard of Cuntin' Oz in comfort!
We're now in the 'Winter Season', where we are all guaranteed a pre-Christmas delivery of complete nausea at having to endure shit adverts from cunts who want to shift shit so we can watch Wizard of Cuntin' Oz in comfort!
17.10.10 Strictly
The BBC is so desperate that it is squeezing every last drop of so-called entertainment out of the programme. I am waiting for the 'John Sergeant' factor to grip us regarding all of Ann Widdecombe's performances and input; how we'll all roll about laughing and metaphorically patting each other on the back to celebrate the 'good sport' aspect of her troll-like efforts. Saturday for the main programme, Sunday for results, and every other day for updates - what the fuck! As far as I am concerned, Strictly Cum Cuntin' is overdoing things.
PS. Bruce, please retire with as much grace as you can salvage.
PS. Bruce, please retire with as much grace as you can salvage.
17.10.10 Carrier Bags
There are numerous ways that supermarkets compete with each other, and market analysts regularly assess things, typically via the 'basket' test. However, the supposed £7 - £9 for a fictitious basket of goods that nobody actually buys is a weak basis for comparison. I prefer the Carrier Bag Test.
***** Excellent
**** Very Good
*** Acceptable
** Rather Shitty
* Cuntin' Useless
Morrisons ****
A good strong bag, with greater capacity than others, and a clear market leader.
Asda ***
Reasonable bag. Slight worry that holes can develop. Uninspiring colours. Standard fare.
Sainsbury **/***
Reasonable although a bit too thin, and a propensity for holes. Distinctive orange, with average capacity. Standard fare.
Lidl **
Overlooking the fact that they cost 3p, the design is flawed. Strength is good but the 'sideways' handle limits capacity significantly. Good logo print, if you like it.
Co-operative **/***
Rather uninspiring white bag. Average. Acceptable.
Tesco *
Awful. The bags are too thin, split easily, have below average capacity and are an embarrassment to such a major company.
There you have it; if you want decent bags that are strong, large, colourful and hold a lot, shop at Morrisons. If you prefer crap, thin, totally inadequate bags, go to Tesco.
***** Excellent
**** Very Good
*** Acceptable
** Rather Shitty
* Cuntin' Useless
Morrisons ****
A good strong bag, with greater capacity than others, and a clear market leader.
Asda ***
Reasonable bag. Slight worry that holes can develop. Uninspiring colours. Standard fare.
Sainsbury **/***
Reasonable although a bit too thin, and a propensity for holes. Distinctive orange, with average capacity. Standard fare.
Lidl **
Overlooking the fact that they cost 3p, the design is flawed. Strength is good but the 'sideways' handle limits capacity significantly. Good logo print, if you like it.
Co-operative **/***
Rather uninspiring white bag. Average. Acceptable.
Tesco *
Awful. The bags are too thin, split easily, have below average capacity and are an embarrassment to such a major company.
There you have it; if you want decent bags that are strong, large, colourful and hold a lot, shop at Morrisons. If you prefer crap, thin, totally inadequate bags, go to Tesco.
17.10.10 Speak Properly
What a crap example is set by supposedly educated people on TV. On Friday's Mastermind, John Humphreys seemed to lose his ability to speak English, and omitted the letter "s" on more than one occasion. "The club play at . . . ." and "the side play . . . ." were appalling examples of grammar, and he is unworthy to be testing other people in any fashion. Twatmind.
Yesterday on MOTD, Gary Lineker produced a useless statistic, mentioning Danny Murphy of Fulham, and referred to "the amount of passes". He's clearly half way to being as thick and moronic as Alan Shearer, and wouldn't understand the concept of a mass noun. Perhaps I'll ask him a question; "what was the number of smoke created when you burned your script?"
A pointless gadget-themed programme I caught a few minutes of on Saturday morning had a section rounded off with a thumbs up from one of the 'team', and the statement "Now that's science!"
First, it was not in any way science, and second, it was not the most appropriate statement when you consider that of the four team members, the one chosen had a lisp. Now, I'm all for non-discrimination - but - it seems there's a general mission to go overboard in being PC these days. I always thought that an actual ability to do the job as required was a key part of getting the job. If you're colour blind, then you're not best placed to remove the green smarties on a product recall, are you? So, I though there could have been a bit of a pith take going on, when the chap was given the line - "Now that'th thienth".
By the way, will there ever be a series of X-Factor when some cunt doesn't sing Purple Rain?
Yesterday on MOTD, Gary Lineker produced a useless statistic, mentioning Danny Murphy of Fulham, and referred to "the amount of passes". He's clearly half way to being as thick and moronic as Alan Shearer, and wouldn't understand the concept of a mass noun. Perhaps I'll ask him a question; "what was the number of smoke created when you burned your script?"
A pointless gadget-themed programme I caught a few minutes of on Saturday morning had a section rounded off with a thumbs up from one of the 'team', and the statement "Now that's science!"
First, it was not in any way science, and second, it was not the most appropriate statement when you consider that of the four team members, the one chosen had a lisp. Now, I'm all for non-discrimination - but - it seems there's a general mission to go overboard in being PC these days. I always thought that an actual ability to do the job as required was a key part of getting the job. If you're colour blind, then you're not best placed to remove the green smarties on a product recall, are you? So, I though there could have been a bit of a pith take going on, when the chap was given the line - "Now that'th thienth".
By the way, will there ever be a series of X-Factor when some cunt doesn't sing Purple Rain?
Friday, 15 October 2010
15.10.10 Grammar 2
What is it with pretentious commentators and sports people, who try to create a weird and 'impressive' aura around activities.
For example, people who climb things like mountains are generally trying to get to the summit. The summit is the bit at the very top, and the word is a NOUN. So, the cunts climb up towards the summit and some of them get there. In doing this, they have not "summitted' - the word does not exist, and creating a verb is out of order! Summit should be done about it!
This week, in Delhi, the commentator said of a cyclist that in his last race he had "punctured". He meant, of course, that the cyclist had been cycling when one of his tyres got a puncture. The word "puncture" can be a noun and also a verb. However, the transitive verb requires an object (eg. I punctured the ball) and so does not relate to the commentator's use of "punctured". The intransitive verb form (used by the commentator) is equally inappropriate, because it means "to undergo a puncture". So, the commentator was a useless cunt. I should have looked at the TV screen and seen a man on a bike suddenly lose all puffiness/pressure/air and start to deflate! If only . . . . because it would have been a lot more exciting and entertaining.
What next? Will we hear that a rugby player "tried"? I'd fucking hope so; who'd want a lazy, apathetic cunt on the pitch? What about if in show jumping, the horse and rider got over the obstacle; would the commentator (or rider) say he "fenced"? That would be very confusing.
Dumbing Down is rife.
For example, people who climb things like mountains are generally trying to get to the summit. The summit is the bit at the very top, and the word is a NOUN. So, the cunts climb up towards the summit and some of them get there. In doing this, they have not "summitted' - the word does not exist, and creating a verb is out of order! Summit should be done about it!
This week, in Delhi, the commentator said of a cyclist that in his last race he had "punctured". He meant, of course, that the cyclist had been cycling when one of his tyres got a puncture. The word "puncture" can be a noun and also a verb. However, the transitive verb requires an object (eg. I punctured the ball) and so does not relate to the commentator's use of "punctured". The intransitive verb form (used by the commentator) is equally inappropriate, because it means "to undergo a puncture". So, the commentator was a useless cunt. I should have looked at the TV screen and seen a man on a bike suddenly lose all puffiness/pressure/air and start to deflate! If only . . . . because it would have been a lot more exciting and entertaining.
What next? Will we hear that a rugby player "tried"? I'd fucking hope so; who'd want a lazy, apathetic cunt on the pitch? What about if in show jumping, the horse and rider got over the obstacle; would the commentator (or rider) say he "fenced"? That would be very confusing.
Dumbing Down is rife.
15.10.10 Minorities!
Did anyone see in the last few days the reported advice sent to JPs and Magistrates, in the Equal Treatment Bench Book? Un-cuntin' believable!
The book provides a list of people who may be "socially and economically disadvantaged" and need special help to ensure they are treated fairly. These are listed as:
Ethnic minorities
Minority faith groups
People with disabilities
Women
Children
Older people
Gays and lesbians
Transgender people
Those who through poverty or for any other reason are socially or economically marginalised
What a fucking incredible list, don't you think?
I am not qualified to complete a proper analysis as I have insufficient data. However, any fucker can see that the list covers about 90% of the population. Taking out older people and children, and then women as well, leaves about 30% of the population at the most. Then the number can get whittled down by the circa 10% gay contingent, another 10% to cover the two ethnic minority categories, and almost another 10% who are in some way disabled. Taking out the Transgender people (how do they get a category themselves when there are only 5000 maximum out of the 61 million population?) leaves just the last category. This means if you're skint or feel marginalised for any reason, you'll also get special help and consideration by the Bench.
RESULT: There are a handful of cunts left (including me) who have a job, are not skint, are not female, old, young, gay, transgender, in an ethnic minority, in a minority faith group (I've actually lost ALL fuckin' faith!) and are not disabled. However, as I am now in the 10% or normal fuckers, I am by definition feeling rather marginalised, and so qualify in my own right as someone needing special help. I am actually in a minority group smaller than some of those listed above. QED.
This country is a fucking joke; whatever happened to zero tolerance; the establishment is intent on pussy-footing about and being totally ineffective on all levels. JPs and Magistrates couldn't judge an X-Factor audition. The first sob story (my mum's a fat dyke, my granddad limps to his Scientology meetings, I think I should have a cunt but I'm feeling a dick at the moment) and special consideration would be doled out!
The book provides a list of people who may be "socially and economically disadvantaged" and need special help to ensure they are treated fairly. These are listed as:
Ethnic minorities
Minority faith groups
People with disabilities
Women
Children
Older people
Gays and lesbians
Transgender people
Those who through poverty or for any other reason are socially or economically marginalised
What a fucking incredible list, don't you think?
I am not qualified to complete a proper analysis as I have insufficient data. However, any fucker can see that the list covers about 90% of the population. Taking out older people and children, and then women as well, leaves about 30% of the population at the most. Then the number can get whittled down by the circa 10% gay contingent, another 10% to cover the two ethnic minority categories, and almost another 10% who are in some way disabled. Taking out the Transgender people (how do they get a category themselves when there are only 5000 maximum out of the 61 million population?) leaves just the last category. This means if you're skint or feel marginalised for any reason, you'll also get special help and consideration by the Bench.
RESULT: There are a handful of cunts left (including me) who have a job, are not skint, are not female, old, young, gay, transgender, in an ethnic minority, in a minority faith group (I've actually lost ALL fuckin' faith!) and are not disabled. However, as I am now in the 10% or normal fuckers, I am by definition feeling rather marginalised, and so qualify in my own right as someone needing special help. I am actually in a minority group smaller than some of those listed above. QED.
This country is a fucking joke; whatever happened to zero tolerance; the establishment is intent on pussy-footing about and being totally ineffective on all levels. JPs and Magistrates couldn't judge an X-Factor audition. The first sob story (my mum's a fat dyke, my granddad limps to his Scientology meetings, I think I should have a cunt but I'm feeling a dick at the moment) and special consideration would be doled out!
Thursday, 14 October 2010
14.10.10 Asda
I have just returned from Asda with numerous bags of shopping, and some cuntin' chav has deprived me of my Rich Tea! I specifically put a hand into each of the different boxes on the bottom shelf containing biscuits - one for Digestives and one for Rich Tea. I have just discovered I have two packets of Digestives; conclusion - a cunt put back an unwanted packet of Digestives in the Rich Tea box. Cunt.
Asda has for absolutely ages sold 15 cans of Carlsberg for a tenner. Today, there were no 15-can boxes available, but I discovered a single 12-can box for sale at £9. At that rate, I'd be paying £11.25 per 15 cans, so Asda has awarded itself a 12.5% increase! Cunts!
Why does the exit from the fuel station involve the perpetual choice of going to the left, where the person taking the money is on the right - so, perfect for the driver - and choosing to go to the right, where the Asda employee sits next to the passenger window? If you're on your own in the car, you have to get out and walk around. The games that people play crossing from one side of the forecourt to the other are unbelievable, all to engineer an ability to hand over a note or a card through the driver's window. There must be a better way!
Watch out for Fairy Liquid. It used to be 500ml, but now it's 450ml. So, if the price is the same, the cunts have sneaked an increase of around 11% without lifting a finger! This makes the whole saga ref. Washing Up - Gate even worse; two years ago, all the 13p cheap washing-up liquid own brands disappeared from the shelves, forcing us all to pay more. Now, after depriving the masses of cheap cleaning liquid, there's a move to get us to may the conglomerates more than necessary for a clean plate! Conspiracy theories are totally relevant, and price fixing is rife.
Asda has for absolutely ages sold 15 cans of Carlsberg for a tenner. Today, there were no 15-can boxes available, but I discovered a single 12-can box for sale at £9. At that rate, I'd be paying £11.25 per 15 cans, so Asda has awarded itself a 12.5% increase! Cunts!
Why does the exit from the fuel station involve the perpetual choice of going to the left, where the person taking the money is on the right - so, perfect for the driver - and choosing to go to the right, where the Asda employee sits next to the passenger window? If you're on your own in the car, you have to get out and walk around. The games that people play crossing from one side of the forecourt to the other are unbelievable, all to engineer an ability to hand over a note or a card through the driver's window. There must be a better way!
Watch out for Fairy Liquid. It used to be 500ml, but now it's 450ml. So, if the price is the same, the cunts have sneaked an increase of around 11% without lifting a finger! This makes the whole saga ref. Washing Up - Gate even worse; two years ago, all the 13p cheap washing-up liquid own brands disappeared from the shelves, forcing us all to pay more. Now, after depriving the masses of cheap cleaning liquid, there's a move to get us to may the conglomerates more than necessary for a clean plate! Conspiracy theories are totally relevant, and price fixing is rife.
14.10.10 Colour Coding
The Co-operative has for some time adopted a 'colour coded' approach for its range of services, but in my opinion this has gone a step too far.
Colour-coded Co-op
It's Yellow for the Divi card
And Food demands a Green
And for Banking there's a certain shade of Blue
But colour-coded Funerals?
How utterly obscene!
All the worse when tacky Lilac is the hue
For some reason, Lilac has been chosen for the funeral service banner, and it reminds me of the tins of rabbit-flavoured Kattomeat* from many years ago. I accept that some products (such as cat food, or indeed crisps) benefit from easily recognised colour-coding to differentiate flavours etc. However, a shit lilac is not on; unless of course there's a subtle hint from the Co-op that the departed are to become Kattomeat - in which case a different (non-rabbit) colour is needed.
* Kattomeat was a Spillers brand, later renamed "Arthur's", just in case you're not old enough to remember.
Colour-coded Co-op
It's Yellow for the Divi card
And Food demands a Green
And for Banking there's a certain shade of Blue
But colour-coded Funerals?
How utterly obscene!
All the worse when tacky Lilac is the hue
For some reason, Lilac has been chosen for the funeral service banner, and it reminds me of the tins of rabbit-flavoured Kattomeat* from many years ago. I accept that some products (such as cat food, or indeed crisps) benefit from easily recognised colour-coding to differentiate flavours etc. However, a shit lilac is not on; unless of course there's a subtle hint from the Co-op that the departed are to become Kattomeat - in which case a different (non-rabbit) colour is needed.
* Kattomeat was a Spillers brand, later renamed "Arthur's", just in case you're not old enough to remember.
Wednesday, 13 October 2010
13.10.10 Gamu / Cheryl
I have no intention of commenting on the merits of Gamu being allowed to stay in the UK. I simply wish to express dismay at the exceedingly poor abilities of one Cheryl Cole. We have all been assured that Cheryl made her own decision on the finalists, and that the potential 'deportation' issues were not connected. So, it therefore follows that unlike the rest of the UK population, CC could not see that Gamu was the best of the 8 who made it to 'her house'. Further, she could not seem to count Gamu amongst the three best performers to go forward. Then, with a Wild Card available, Gamu was not considered even to be 4th best. Gamu must therefore have been 5th, 6th, 7th or 8th. Unbelievable! CC has therefore demonstrated that in the absence of there being any 'fix', her own judgement is as weak as her voice.
By the way, Ashley might have been (and might still be) a nob, but he seems to have assisted Cheryl with a name that she obviously considers slightly more acceptable/attractive than 'Tweedy'. It's a bit rich (isn't she just) to divorce him but then continue to benefit by retaining his name. Three Words - So Self Serving. I rather think her unofficial role as the nation's sweetheart is coming to an end. Gamu, Set & Match.
TMWSC
By the way, Ashley might have been (and might still be) a nob, but he seems to have assisted Cheryl with a name that she obviously considers slightly more acceptable/attractive than 'Tweedy'. It's a bit rich (isn't she just) to divorce him but then continue to benefit by retaining his name. Three Words - So Self Serving. I rather think her unofficial role as the nation's sweetheart is coming to an end. Gamu, Set & Match.
TMWSC
13.10.10 Easy
I see Sir Stelios Haji-Ioannou was in the news yesterday, regarding a deal he has made for easyJet to make more widespread use of the "easy" brand. The complete operational freedom will now allow new ventures to be considered. If I were on the board, I might well float the idea of legalised brothels under the name "easyCunt". I am sure there would be a demand for such a service, and the normal easyJet procedures could well be adopted. Booking ahead could easily be done online, and the charges would vary depending on the time of day/day of the week/season. Unfortunately there would have to be a surcharge for fat people - a sort of baggage allowance. If customers wanted to turn up and get straight to it without preliminaries etc, then Speedy Boarding could still be offered at a premium. For refreshments etc, easyKiosk could continue to offer a small range of overpriced snacks and drinks, eg. £6 for Minstrels and a Coffee, just like on a plane.
There could well be opportunities for promoting the service by going head-to-head with Virgin. You'll no doubt recognise the wordplay possibilities here.
TMWSC
There could well be opportunities for promoting the service by going head-to-head with Virgin. You'll no doubt recognise the wordplay possibilities here.
TMWSC
Tuesday, 12 October 2010
12.10.10 Grammar
What is the world coming to? I have just groaned through the lowlights of England's 0-0 draw, and then I suffered during the awful advert for a new broadband service from Plusnet. The concluding statement was, and I quote - "Broadband that won't be beat on price". I can only assume that Alan Shearer was brought in as a (thick) consultant/cunt to vet the copy ahead of shooting the advert.
On principle, I could never entertain using Plusnet, and I will not be BEATEN into submission ever.
TMWSC
On principle, I could never entertain using Plusnet, and I will not be BEATEN into submission ever.
TMWSC
12.10.10 Let Play Commence
Hello World
Henceforth, via this non-PC site created this very day, you'll have the chance to encounter the views, opinions and comments of someone who feels slightly at odds with the world for most of the time. Please be under no illusion that I am at all wrong - on the contrary, I am right 99% of the time, and the other 1% is open to debate - but I stand a good chance on that bit as well. In simple terms, I propose to relay all that is quirky, wrong, annoying and maddening, hoping that you may recognise (dare I say 'appreciate') the content as relevant and occasionally amusing.
Finally, a note on language. Anyone who knows me will most likely already appreciate my willingness to use bad language - in fact to some, it may appear that my Mission Statement in life is to swear at every opportunity. If you are reading this, you'll already have logged in and used the C word for the last four letters of the address. This should serve as a filter, because if you've typed the word already, you'll not be offended by my regular use of it. However, the site Name is "The Man Who Says". This should in some way prove that my use of the C word is not in fact gratuitous ! Thanks to Luke D, who first referred to me as TMWSC, which seems now so fitting for my blog.
I have no idea when I will be posting things, or when shopping will ever again be either enjoyable or an experience whereby the pricing policy makes any sense to a living creature with an IQ above 7.
For the time being, all I can say is:
"The Co-operative and Sommerfield - shit with food"
TMWSC
Henceforth, via this non-PC site created this very day, you'll have the chance to encounter the views, opinions and comments of someone who feels slightly at odds with the world for most of the time. Please be under no illusion that I am at all wrong - on the contrary, I am right 99% of the time, and the other 1% is open to debate - but I stand a good chance on that bit as well. In simple terms, I propose to relay all that is quirky, wrong, annoying and maddening, hoping that you may recognise (dare I say 'appreciate') the content as relevant and occasionally amusing.
Finally, a note on language. Anyone who knows me will most likely already appreciate my willingness to use bad language - in fact to some, it may appear that my Mission Statement in life is to swear at every opportunity. If you are reading this, you'll already have logged in and used the C word for the last four letters of the address. This should serve as a filter, because if you've typed the word already, you'll not be offended by my regular use of it. However, the site Name is "The Man Who Says". This should in some way prove that my use of the C word is not in fact gratuitous ! Thanks to Luke D, who first referred to me as TMWSC, which seems now so fitting for my blog.
I have no idea when I will be posting things, or when shopping will ever again be either enjoyable or an experience whereby the pricing policy makes any sense to a living creature with an IQ above 7.
For the time being, all I can say is:
"The Co-operative and Sommerfield - shit with food"
TMWSC
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)