Monday, 28 February 2011

28.2.11 Sheer Lunacy

For over three years, Bertie has been munching on the grass in the churchyard, at Emmanuel Parish Church in Saltburn.  Not the most exciting life for a sheep, but useful in keeping the grass down, and mildly entertaining for onlookers.  But now the end is near.  Apparently the twats at the local church council have identified Bertie as a "health and safety" risk.  As far as I'm concerned, there's more risk to health and sanity by entering the church and listening to the tripe uttered inside and there ever could be from a tethered sheep!

The world's gone cuntin' mad!

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28.2.11 Biggest Loser

I just watched a weight-loss convention, which I have managed to avoid for many weeks until tonight's final show, which was in fact the weigh-in for all.  There were numerous large people on show.  Admittedly they had all lost a lot of weight (a few had lost the equivalent of a small person) but many were still what I'd call large.  Their efforts were commendable, and yes, well done etc.  However, it seems a bit naf for people who have over-eaten for ages to lose weight and then get applauded for getting halfway back to normal.  The top two chaps lost over 30% of their weight in 21 weeks.  The twins (Qashqai & Zafira) lost the equivalent of the missing triplet (Berlingo).

Where's the programme for anorexics, rewarded for putting on weight? 

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28.2.11 Motorway Adverts

Adverts alongside a motorway are not endorsed by local councils and planning committees.  It is apparently the case that they would serve to distract drivers, and that accidents would increase.  This was a commendable notion, but as we are all so aware, the loophole that prevails means we are indeed distracted by signs that are not fixed, and so do not have to comply with planning laws.  These adverts adorn trailers and vehicles on private land alongside motorways across the country.

There has been no claim to my knowledge that accident numbers have risen as a result of this advertising.  I rather suspect that equally, there has been little uptake of the dubious offers on Spectacles, Bathroom Suites, Ebuyer late ordering options etc etc.  Should there ever be such a claim by planners, I think it would be easily discounted on the following basis.

Driving on a motorway requires heightened levels of concentration, and so any distractions could have dire consequences.  Heaven forbid that we should wonder whether a VW Golf might be worth buying, or if Benetton might provide a yellow or blue sweater.  So, how on earth do the planners justify the pompous view when there are already enough distractions and signs for us all to deal with.  Here are some examples.

Slippery Surface, Uneven Surface, Lane Closed, Side Winds, Diverted Traffic, Authorised Vehicles only, No Hard Shoulder For 150yds, Narrow Lanes For 2 Miles, Works Units Only, Works Entrance in 100yds, Keep In Lane, Works Exit, Tiredness Can Kill, Take A Break, Average Speed Check, Roadworks On Slip Road, Roadworks, Services 2 Miles, Keep Your Distance, Check Your Distance, Keep Apart 2 Chevrons, Work Starts Here in 2 Weeks, Traffic Merges Ahead.

On top of these, of course, are the signs at exits giving directions to towns, plus the brown ones that highlight various local attractions and theme parks.  There are the 'countdown' (III / II / I) signs, overhead signs, mileage signs to towns, and the various distractions from brands like Costa Coffee, M&S Food, and adverts on the back and sides of every lorry.  Then there are speed cameras, cones all over the place, and cop cars (plus cars that look like cop cars).

How on earth do we manage not to crash every few minutes.  What with mobile phone calls, texting, emailing and eating/drinking, plus attending to the sat nav, it's impossible to deny that drivers are inundated with information and distractions.  So, not having a few advertising hoardings on show is the least of anyone's problems!

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Sunday, 27 February 2011

27.2.11 Fuck Up On Ice

What a farce!  Shall we rename the programme Fuck Up On Ice, or Fan Base On Ice?  Whatever, it's quite clear that the public in the UK is collectively a 'stupid cunt'.  I suppose this description should only actually apply to the people who bother to vote.  Who is voting for Denise and Johnson?  Perhaps it is armed forces personnel for Johnson, and for Denise it could be viewers of the daytime TV programme that she is on - I think it's called Slack Cunts or something similar.

By the way, Colleen Nolan was this evening described by me as:

A slightly soft bulldozer

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Wednesday, 23 February 2011

23.2.11 Football Speak

As important as physical fitness and skill with a football, is the ability to relay to an interviewer completely banal shit, using tried and tested phrases.  The football world has almost decided to exist on using no more than 500 or so words.  A selection of the key ones, and the terms created by football-types is shown below.

It was a bad day at the office.
We set out our stall.
We're taking each game one at a time.
We're very disappointed.
It's a funny old game.
The lads played well.
We're looking forward to the next game.
We knew it wouldn't be easy.
That's football for you.
We must put this behind us.
I can't fault the players for effort.
He's not a malicious player.
They're a great set of lads.
We dug deep.
They caused us a few problems.
Go out and enjoy yourselves.
We need to dust ourselves down and move on.
That's what the game's all about.
They made it very difficult for us.
I didn't see it.
It was the icing on the cake.
They have strength in depth.
They need a change of personnel.

A favourite of Andy Townsend is the term for being tackled - apparently now better identified by the phrase "he had his pocket picked".  A classic Alan Hansen offering is "the basic fundamentals".

And what's with the fractions.  The only place anything is relevant is seemingly "the final third", and the standard unit of measurement on the football field is now "half a yard".  Alan Shearer's favourite terms are devoid of any notion of grammar, and completely superfluous to human life.

Finally, I was watching TV a couple of weeks ago but wondered if the green rectangle was in fact a snooker table rather than a football pitch, or if it was perhaps a cricket pitch.  This was quite simply a result of the commentator using terms unfamiliar to me.  "Pocket" and "Gulley" are most definitely not areas or positions relating to football!  The "channels" and the "hole" are the two other commonly mentioned oddities that have no basis for being referred to or used in commentary.

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23.2.11 Stupid Bankers

Whoever dreams up slogans and TV adverts for banks is getting overpaid.  The level of imagination is pathetic and the choice of words is awful.  For example:

Lloyds TSB - For the Journey

What a crap expression, and the word "journey" should surely be banned from the public domain for at least three times a murderer's jail sentence, so maybe 12 years then.

Nat West - Helpful Banking

They weren't so fuckin' helpful when the idiots lost billions and became damn near state owned!  And this bank has the nerve to suggest that its staff might be able to help us out.  Keep your hands off our money, Nat West, is probably the best tactic in this regard.

Halifax . . . . Here we have a bank that was previously obsessed with dubious singing in its adverts.  Having finally decided to move away from employees warbling shit and trying to establish awful rhymes, the marketing twats have got two dozy cunts at a sound desk, drinking/spilling tea.  The Lightning Seeds might provide better music but the inventiveness of Halifax is invisible.

Barclays . . . . Watching a crappy "shoe machine", with a voiceover provided by Stephen Merchant, is hardly inspiring, and begs the thought that they've rather blatantly 'put their foot in it'.

Hopeless Stupid Bloody Cunts, the lot of them . . . hang on, that's HSBC!

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Monday, 21 February 2011

21.2.11 Pound World

If I had my way, Poundworld, or Poundland, or any 'Pound' shop should adopt a British approach to retail, and sell stuff by the pound - weight, not coinage!  The 'lb' or 'LB' shop would be a rather good twist on the whole budget approach, selling by weight.  You walk in, and whether it's nails, screws, chocolate, cornflakes or Garibaldi biscuits, you get a pound of them - none of this kilo/gramme shit, where the retailers and manufacturers collude to rip us all off by playing games, reducing pack sizes, and fucking with our minds.

Now, if any commodity could be sold at a "Pound a Pound", that would be perfect!

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21.2.11 Cat Deeley

Get a life, Cat! 

"There's a science to the perfect swish"  !!!! 

Cat Shit!

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21.2.11 BMI Baby

The 'script' used by flight attendants (or are they called stewards/stewardesses?) is crap.  Serving up the standard bollocks via the noisy speakers, the staff highlight two major issues. 

The first is the content; there is no real sense of interest behind the announcements.  Brainwashed cabin staff apparently hope that all is well with our 'onward journey' - what exactly does onward have to do with anything?  We are hardly going to go backwards, all of a sudden!

The second issue is the style of delivery, for useless messages.  The pitch of the woman talking shite last week was horrendous.  She started too high, and got higher.  Come Fly With Me sprang to mind!  If there were any people on board who thought they were deaf, the woman on last week's BMI Baby flight to Malaga would have cured them with her piercing drivel.

I thought the price of water at Birmingham Airport (WH Smith) was awful, recently.  £1.75 for 750ml meant that it was close to twice the price of petrol.  However, I was much more amazed at the cost of Pepsi on board the BMI flight.  £1.60 for 250ml - that's right, £6.40 per litre!  So, 5 times the price of petrol!  Would you seriously buy a 2-litre bottle of Pepsi from a supermarket if at the end of an aisle, you saw it displayed at £12.80?  I think not.  Thieving cunts.

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Saturday, 12 February 2011

12.2.11 Child On Board

Following a Renault Scenic the other day, I was unable to miss the signs in the back window.  These were to indicate that there was something on board, though I could not of course see because of the fucking signs.  Each adopted a different terms for enlightening me, the reader, that the car contained flesh - not necessarily human.

The first diamond shaped piece of card stated Princess On Board.  Immediately this conjured up (as it does now) an image of a spoilt little brat, wearing something pink, who gets ballet lessons on a Saturday morning before stroking a pony.  The fact that there was a 'Princess' (rather subjective, I'd say) on board was irrelevant to me - all I cared about was there being a cunt who could drive, sitting behind the wheel - and a bit faster would have helped!

Next to the diamond was a triangle, stating Child On Board.  Now, this was a potential complication, because I could not be sure if this related to a second child within the confines of the metal shell travelling at a painful 40mph on the bypass.  It may have been a further announcement to confirm that the Princess was in fact a child (rather than of the Princess Anne age group).  Or, it could have related to a second occupant, a mere 'child', and not royalty.  [I was trying to resist the temptation to mention a mere 'cat', but I've given in now - sorry.]  So, I had established the car contained either a girl who was a Princess, or a Princess of indeterminate age accompanied by another child of indeterminate sex, though likely to be a commoner since no reference to royalty/nobility was included in the triangle.

A third sign was occupying space in the rear window - and the shape was unusual; I suspected an attempt at a chimp's head, because the sign said Cheeky Monkey On Board.  I wondered whether the driver was a primate (unable to drive above 40mph) and his/her spouse a human, so that the offspring could conceivably (get it?) be classed as a monkey, but dismissed this as a bit far fetched.  This took me no further forward (bit like following the fucking car) in my assessment of the occupants.  It could be a single person, a child Princess, who was a 'cheeky monkey'.  Three signs for one spoilt brat would fit, but the last sign would have been rejected by her, so on reflection I decided there were multiple occupants.  The cheeky monkey could have been the child of course.  Or, it could have been a third child.  Or, it could have been a pet monkey!  If there were two children aside from the Princess, did each know his or her description, as detailed on the back window?  Monkey or Child - which is best?  No, it was not time for a 'fight' like on Harry Hill's TV Burp.  I suspected that if there were two kids involved, the cheeky monkey actually felt superior, as it is a term of endearment rather than being derogatory.  Being a plain 'Child' in a household that contained a Princess and a Monkey would have been rather grim.  The boy or girl will no doubt grow up with issues.  Maybe the child was a cheeky boy, who had sticky-out-ears, and was on the way to being a 'queen' in older life, so for the time being was a Princess?  Or, there was always the chance, I thought, that the Child and Monkey were one and the same.  Permutations, permutations [ that's not a confusing property programme ].

So, I summarised to myself that apart from the driver, there could be one, two or three other occupants, and I became annoyed at the pointlessness of three signs.  They added nothing to my knowledge, and even less to the driver's ability to see me through the rear view mirror.  I then had a horrible thought - could the signs refer to the driver?  Princess Anne was dressed as a monkey, and driving a child somewhere - unlikely; we all know Princess Anne would drive at more than 40mph.  A child, then, dressed as a monkey was chauffeuring a Princess (never heard it called that before!) to pony club - unlikely.  I was coming to realise that I may never find out the true state of affairs - other than the Scenic route was not the quickest!

As luck would have it, an opportunity arose to overtake the blue Renault.  I was of course careful to avoid ramming the fucking car (something I would surely have done if the signs had not dissuaded me from such a course of action) and I successfully manoeuvred my vehicle past the Princess's carriage.  What did I see?

No one in the back.  Cunt driving.  I considered swerving and pushing it off the road, but thought better of it.  I wished I had a sign in my rear window that said 'A Twat Is Reading This'.

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Friday, 11 February 2011

11.2.11 Particuly Annoying

What the hell's wrong with people.  There seems to be a 'condition' of some sort that affects people's speech, and their ability to retain and use all relevant syllables.  It is particularly annoying.  This word is in fact one of the most commonly mispronounced ones in day to day life, and advocates of the dropped syllable seem to manage very well at getting jobs on radio and television, where they can promote their uselessness.

Yet they don't say simily in place of similarly for some strange reason.  The list of cunted up words includes the following 'variants' -

Vunerable, Reguly, Enviroment, Necessry, Ezagerate, Fith, Sikth, Twelth, Febuary

Of course there's a whole set of cliches that are rattled off these days, all flawed because they are bollocks;

Return back - well you cannot 'return forward' can you! 
Respond back - ditto
Fry off - a favourite in cooking programmes - why the 'off'?
Other alternative - No,  the 'other cunt' or the 'alternative cunt' but not both!
Separate out - cooking again!

Then there's the complete misuse of words, such as -

Alternate ending - common in the DVD world; silly Yanks [alternative]
Less women - meaning less in terms of body weight?  [fewer]

Then there's the complete crap uttered on radio and television, like the following examples -

I recommend to use Sensodyne Pronamel (TV Advert) [recommend using]

It's something I adore to do (Radio Feature)  [like to do OR adore doing]

Sunderland Police will vigorously prosecute anyone who breaches the offences (Policewoman, Radio News)  [Twat!]

People have a lot of misconceptions about California, but none of them are really true (TV Trailer)
This one is interesting.  Aside from the mistake with 'none of them are' instead of 'none of them is', the whole thing's a mess.  I can have a conception that's wrong or untrue, or I can have a misconception, but if my misconception is not true, that's a double negative, so I'm right!

The world's gone mad, and we're dumbing down at an alarming rate

Invasion of the language snatchers

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11.2.11 Cunt-op

I went to buy some bread at the Co-op, you know the place.  Un-cuntin-believable was the pricing policy, matched only by its 'mark-down' policy!

Warburton's Seedless Batch - Price £1.81 - What a complete rip off!  Still, there were a few with a sell by date of tomorrow, and they had an orange sticker on them.  Some twat had gone to the trouble of creating a reduced sticker - Was £1.81, Now £1.75  As I say, unbe-cuntin-lievable!  SIX PENCE

The shelf below had a Warburton's 400g White Loaf.  Was 87p, Now 85p  TWO FUCKIN PENCE

Behind me were lurking some grapes, sat on a shelf looking sorry for themselves - no fuckin wonder, seeing as they were going (well not going as it turned out) for £5.00 per kilo!  ROBBERY!

The Co-operative - On another planet

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Sunday, 6 February 2011

6.2.11 BBC2

Flick to BBC2 and there's a high chance that you'll see one of two things.

1 Portillo on yet another fuckin train
2 Cunts wandering along a coast, and a Scot whose voice is enough to make you want to jump off the White Cliffs

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6.2.11 Fuckaware

The nanny state has crept into more and more aspects of daily life, and we are all dictated to by arseholes.  Even when there's nothing illegal about an activity, we're encouraged to be aware of shit that some fucker has decided we ought to bear in mind.  Apparently it's for our own good, and for the good of the country.  We are also told to be responsible, and act responsibly.  We cannot leave a train without the cunt with power over the tannoy button telling us that we really ought to take our belongings with us.  Twat; unless you're a bomber, why the fuck would you leave shit behind?

A betting related advert I saw in the paper had the caveat "bluesquare encourages responsible gambling".  The company is clearly obliged by legislation to print such a stupid fuckin' tip.  Advice is all around us.  "Enjoy wine responsibly" after an advert from M&S!  Drinkaware.co.uk, Gambleaware.co.uk, what next?  Shitaware.co.uk - shit responsibly, make sure there's loo roll to hand.  Fuckaware.co.uk - be careful and shag responsibly. 

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5.2.11 Domino Effect

Domino's Pizza now has an 'offer' on, but it's not quite as straightforward as you'd hope.

Buy One, Get Two Free! *
Two sides or desserts free with every large pizza

The asterisk denotes quite a few terms for the offer, separate from the headline-grabber making one think that buying one pizza would entitle you to two more pizzas free, rather than side dishes or desserts.

* Not valid with any other offer
* Only valid when you order any large pizza from the menu
* Excludes Ice Cream Combos
* Valid for a limited time only
* Subject to availability
* Valid at participating stores only
* Please mention offer when ordering

It's getting to the stage that the terms of any offer in life are more comprehensive by a clear mile than the offer itself.  I half expected the last asterisk to be:

* Don't call after 11pm - we won't make or deliver your pizza, but you may still be charged!

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5.2.11 Total Wipeout

Let's overlook the fact that "All New" now precedes the name of the original programme.  It's now sadly the case that there are so many repeats, programmes now have to be labelled this way to distinguish them from the regurgitated tosh that fills the schedules.  You've Been Framed if the other very well known example of this phenomenon.  I'm surprised, actually, that politics has not yet embraced this crap, with New Labour becoming All New Labour.

Anyway, as with YBF some years back, surely the time has come to dispense with the frustratingly annoying Richard Hammond, who offers absolutely nothing by way of entertainment or contribution to the show.  Some cunt at the BBC has decided that we ought to like him, and that he's worthy of ungainful employment as an irritant in a studio, while people have a go at an obstacle course in South America.  If ITV recognised that Lisa Riley (who took over from Beadle) was superfluous, surely the same approach can apply for Wipeout?

Total Wipeout (which by default actually means a repeat) and All New Total Wipeout contribute little to life, though very marginally more than RH.  I would even go as far as to say that Mr Bargain Hunt himself, David Dickinson, has a few grammes of worth more than RH.

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Saturday, 5 February 2011

5.2.11 Get Involved

What utter fucking bollocks is "Get Involved" when uttered by twats on the TV!  This phrase is bandied about by idiots who are almost always touting some sort of competition/phone-in/voting scheme.  The common theme for all is that we are being encouraged to 'spend money'.  The "Get Involved" instruction is a euphemism for "waste some money".  We're expected to phone or text your vote / place a bet on the shitty roulette game / pick the obvious answer from A, B or C in our competition"

All I know if that whatever insistence is urged, it does not fuckin' involve me!  Get Involved - my arse!

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