Monday, 27 August 2012

27.8.12 Things That Grate

Toothpaste

I went to buy a tube of what I term 'emergency' toothpaste - the sort that's a supermarket's own brand, and cheap.  At Asda, I picked up the tube (now sold without a cardboard box which is a good thing) for 25p.  So far, so good; minimum packaging, minimal outlay, and it would do the job as a back-up (disposable) tube.  There were no claims at all on the outside of the tube; none of the shit you normally get about sensitivity, what your overpaid twat of a dentist recommends, and no shit science to prove that brushing will stop cancer of the teeth and stop decay.  The single announcement on the tube was - "Contains Fluoride".  I should fucking hope so!  Toothpaste without fluoride would be like beer with no alcohol, ie. pointless.  To try and enhance to any degree the nature of the toothpaste through the announcement that it contains fluoride is pathetic.  I must confess that I have yet to find any toothpaste that doesn't contain fluoride.  I wonder if Walkers will stat putting 'Contains Potato' on the side of its crisp packets?

Joe Pasquale

The adverts for the National Accident Helpline, with an email address of www.underdog.co.uk are nauseating as fuck.  They should come with a warning at the outset that the following 30 seconds will fuck up your head and aural abilities for at least 24hrs, and that sensitive viewers/listeners should temporarily change channel - and that looking away will do nothing to lessen the impact of the awful voice that will squeeze into your bran any second.  Arghhh!

Fashionworld

I saw an advert the other day for more of the unnecessary clothing and so-called fashion that we are force-fed with.  It was an advert so blatantly aimed at women who of course have no purpose in life except to shop, and spend money on awful stuff to satisfy their addictions.  The tactic used in this deplorable farce of a sales pitch was to describe the brand and the items available as "purse friendly".  What a fucking cunting shit expression.  Fuck off, will you!

Beach Activities

Just a quick reference to the recent Olympics, and the need (apparently) to include 'beach' versions of sports.  I watched a perfectly entertaining few games of volleyball - a game that's been going a very long time, and one that's played more than adequately within the confines of an indoor arena.  The space taken up is little more than that for a badminton court, and marginally less than the size of a basketball court.  For this reason, the game/sport finds itself catered for by most sports venues around the world.  All that's needed is a wooden or concrete court, a net and some markings to show the area that counts as 'in play'.  The Olympic Games cannot include just this one version of a straightforward game; no, it has to feature a second version; one that is destined to get all the headlines and pathetic comments, mainly from blokes.  Sorry, but a few women who are wearing bikinis (or more accurately, sports bras and pants) trying to play volleyball on sand is not entertaining to any greater degree than the indoor version.  If I were a volleyball player, I suspect I'd resent like fuck the 'beach' version of the game.  I like a game of badminton, myself.  I would like to challenge the Olympics organisers on why the hell there's no Beach Badminton lined up for Brazil in 2016.

Academies

I recently drove past what used to be a school.  I know it used to be a school because just after three o'clock every Monday to Friday, a thousand little shits would swarm over the roads and surrounding neighbourhood, all carrying backs, and looking like they've been let out of a sin bin.  I was therefore surprised by a sign at the entrance, which stated (and I'll not mention the name of the establishment itself): A Specialist Sports and Drama College.  Oh!  I couldn't help thinking that this grandiose claim is almost certainly one to try and disguise the fact that it is fuck all use at teaching anything, and certainly no good at teaching proper subjects.  If it has undergone some sort of conversion into a glorified 'academy' with the objectives of occupying its attendees with sport and drama, then I fear for the lot of them.  There was once a time when a school was a cunting school.  It taught fucking subjects, had a playing field for weekly exercise and games, and there was a school play every year.  Now, the CIC have lost the fucking plot and started excusing inabilities of both institutions and students by allowing a sidestep, and re-branding.  Fucking madness!

Local News

I listened to a twat on local TV news relaying details of an issue that had caused some grief for various individuals.  The reporter told me that someone was "appealing the decision" and I sat there on the sofa wondering who the fuck had kidnapped the word "against" and stopped this thick cunt from including it in her relaying of the story.  I then considered that despite her deficiency in linguistic ability, she'd managed to get a job which had what I considered to be a significant requirement of being able to speak the cunting language.  Maybe she went to a Specialist Sports and Drama College, did a GCSE in Media Studies, ran the egg and spoon race, and shagged the headmaster (whose brother in in HR at the TV station) behind the bike sheds.

Animals

Last month I was staying with my parents on what was just an overnight stay.  In the morning, I went to get a newspaper and found that I'd have to go to the small M&S store as there wasn't a nearer newsagent.  This was certainly preferable to going anywhere near Asda or the Martins shop opposite, as the whole experience of the parking and queuing in the retail complex was off putting - and complex, actually.  I set off, and managed reasonably well to find and park at the M&S.  As I entered the shop, a tall bloke went through the doors just before me, and went on to the newspaper stand, where he picked up the last copy of the Daily Mail.  I did an about turn, stifled the urge to shout "Cunt" and exited the shop.  As I left, I saw a bloke on the bench touting his Big Issues.  They weren't actually his big issues.  They were his Big Issues, but not issues that were necessarily his, or big.  His issues, probably big, were more likely to be ones relating to having enough money to survive, and whilst the contents of the magazine he was selling were of mild interest and relevance, he was more concerned with who might be handing over £2.50 for the privilege of a quick read.  I decided not to buy one - mainly because a few weeks back I did buy one, not realising it was now £2.50 rather than a pound, and was disappointed to find that the contents were less interesting than The Sun - and that's saying something!  A passer-by handed the bloke a coin, and declined with the wave of a hand any thanks or magazine - which he clearly would not have got anyway - even if the coin had been of the largest commonly used denomination (£2).  I say commonly used, so that you will not call me explain why the coin could not have been a £5 one, of the type minted for commemoration purposes.  I am confident that if the passer-by had handed over a £5 coin showing a Spitfire on its reverse, and the Queen Mother (God rest her soul) on the front, firing a Tommy Gun while chewing on a cigar George Peppard style, to mark the fifty years since the Battle of Britain, he'd have at least wanted the Big Issue.  I rather think it was  £1 coin, and given as an exercise in 'do gooderism'.  That was possibly insulting (I've no idea) because such action demoted the seller's efforts from selling to begging in the wave of an arm.  Still, the fact that the arm had, on the end of it a hand, at the end of which fingers were holding and passing a coin for nothing was probably of more interest and benefit, and so more than likely gratefully received.

Anyway, I digress - I still had no Daily Mail.  I had to drive over to the Asda area.  I decided, after parking and making my way to the mall and entrance to Asda.  As I went into the covered area, I was met with the view of a stall which was pushing for donations to help Dogs.  The Dogs Trust (the apostrophe-less organisation that I have a problem with) was being represented by a bloke who was clearly interested in animals, and free on a Saturday morning to haunt the nall outside Asda.  I passed without a thought of giving money to an organisation that is in fact a business.  Instead of heading for Asda, I, decided to shop at the Martins which was opposite.  It was completely deserted (unlike Asda on a Saturday morning) and the sixteen/seventeen-year-old girl was able enough to break away from the inspection of her nails to ring up the sale on her till, and take my money. It was like playing shops with my sister when we were five and ten (I was older).  She went back to her assessment of nails, Asda stayed stupidly busy, and I went back to my car.  As I left the mall, I saw at the exit a stall which I'd not noticed on my way in - mainly because I'd not looked over my shoulder.  Since I was not the subject of a stalker's attention, nor was I up to no good, I was not in the habit of looking over my shoulder unnecessarily.  Now I could see that there was a stall (opposite/facing the Dogs Trust one) hoping for donations in the plight to help cats.  The Cats Protection woman was of a sort that I instinctively knew to be 'catty'.  Again, I left the area without helping these businesses.

Ironically, I have before me on the desk the Big Issue I bought a few weeks before my experience above.  On page 38 is an 'Urgent Appeal' for the strays of Sri Lanka.  Yes, I was being invited to donate an amount (£100, £50, £25, Other £) so that some dogs on the other side of the world could be helped.  I rather thought that there were people in a worse state than the dogs, who might like first dibs on my money.  Animal SOS Sri Lanka was obviously confident enough to put an advert in the Big Issue to try and get donations.  So too was Care 4 Cats, another charity (too many fucking charities !!!) which wanted online donations or cheques for the work in helping cats on Ibiza.  This world has gone fucking mad.  I bypassed cats and dogs in the mall by Asda, and the Big Issue which is sold by people trying to make a dignified living, included adverts for charities pestering people for money for cats in Ibiza and Dogs in Sri Lanka.  What next?  Guinea Pigs in Peru?

Fish & Chips

I passed a sign last week.  It's still there, so I suppose that could be "I pass a sign every day I leave the house and travel in a north-westerly direction" if I want to be picky.  It says: "Traditional Fish & Chips".  I am struggling with this description.  'Traditional' - as opposed to what?  Bohemian?  Fish & Chips are fucking fish and chips - that's it!  The word 'traditional' is completely misused.  Shall I expect a sign outside a furniture shop claiming 'Genuine Faux Leather' then?

...

Tuesday, 21 August 2012

21.8.12 Dangerous Dogs

This country is so fucked up, it is unbelievable that we manage to avoid civil war.  The news yesterday was full of attention-grabbing headlines about a major change in the law regarding penalties for those failing to control dogs which attack and injure innocent parties.  Why is it all bollocks?  I will explain.

The change is in the maximum sentence that can be awarded to a cunt who allows his dog to bit off half the face of a four-year-old.  Yes, instead of a maximum sentence of 12 months, it's been upped to 18 months.  Let's now review things in a bit more detail.

1 - This is the maximum sentence

We all know that whatever the 'maximum' is, judges let off far too many people with a reduced sentence.  So, the fact that the maximum is now 6 months longer is in most cases irrelevant.

2 - The actual time served

If someone pleaeds guilty, and gets benefit for good behaviour etc, then the time actually served will be (assuming the maximum sentence was dished out) 6-9 months!  Fucking joke!

3 - The deterrent is pathetic at a theoretical 18 months anyway

If a dog severely injures someone, and the owner is either a cunt, or acted like a cunt temporarily, then no sentence of 18 months (reduced to 6-9) will properly reflect the damage done.  The sentence should be upped to a maximum of 5yrs at the very least - possibly ten!  This whole topic is not getting the attention it deserves. 



4 - A dog as a weapon

If a nasty yob decides to keep a dangerous dog, and even uses it as part of a campaign to terrorise others, then that cunt is in effect carrying (on a lead or off a lead) an offensive weapon.  If the yob punched, bit or stabbed someone, he would be sentenced to 5 years at the least, possibly 10.  So what's the difference then if he gets a dog to do the damage?

Changing the top sentence from 12 to 18 months is toying with things at an irrelevant level.  Look at the victim of a viscious dog attack, then imagine it's your own child or a close friend who's ben maimed for life.  Then consider the repurcussions for the dog owner.  There is nothing to celebrate in this change of the law.



...

Saturday, 18 August 2012

18.8.12 X-Factor 2012 1st Programme

Dermot kicked us off with "There's four people they've got to impress" - and there was I, thinking that "There is four people" would only be uttered by an illiterate idiot; I was right, eh?

At an hour-and-a-quarter, X-Factor was shorter than the other Cowell offering [Red or Black, at an hour-and-a-half] but luckily couldn't have been any worse in terms of entertainment.  There were a few notable points.  The chap who works in Asda completed what must surely be one of the best auditions of all time.  Simply wonderful.

The Pink tribute act (Zoe Alexander) who did not want to try and emulate Pink, then sang a Pink song and strutted about the stage shouting out the lyrics with a weak voice.  She was not good, and looked scary/odd and had a worrying attitude.  She sang a second song, and the judges were actually trying to help her prove herself.  This second song proved she couldn't sing.  Her foul-mouthed reaction to being voted off was unbelievable.  Some real issues for this individual!

Perhaps the real talking point of this first show was the absolutely diabolical attitude and performance by one of the judges - the guest judge, Melanie B.  Call her what you will - Scary Spice, Old Spice, Crass Spice, Rude Spice, Up Herself Spice.  She was appallingly behaved and sitting in for Nicole Scherzinger, it was easy to see which one has the full-time role and which one will not be asked every again.  What is it with Spice Girls, because Halliwell was too full of herself as well?  Mel B was simply out of order, cruel and needlessly nasty.  For some reason, I was reminder of a monkfish - maybe it was the shape of her mouth?  If she needed water, I would have thought the producers could have stuck her on the roof of a London taxi and told the driver to drive eastwards for 400 miles (which I think would firmly put her in the North Sea).



The competition 'prize' was some sort of concert to watch Justin Bieber.  I must say, the only reason I'd ever call the number at £1.54 per minute would be if it was the only way to guarantee NOT seeing Bieber.  A better competition, though, would have been -

"What does the 'B' stand for in the Guest Judge's name?
A: Bitchy
B: Bastard
C: Bollocks
D: Beautiful

The sixteen-year-old at the end was great.  So, two outstanding performers over the hour-and-a-quarter.

...

18.8.12 Red or Black

Simply awful


...

18.8.12 More Dialogue

Exchange Number 1 - "Receipt"

Scene - Petrol station shop, at Morrisons.  TMWSC has just filled the car and is about the hand over cash to pay for the fuel dispensed from pump four.

TMWSC:        "Can I have a VAT receipt please?"
Till Operator:  "Is that a VAT receipt you wanted?"
TMWSC:        "Yes, that's why I asked for one."

Turning to leave, TMWSC saw a typed (home-made) sign cellotaped to the side of the counter, which said: 

Police Notice - Please remember to pay for your fuel

TMWSC was perplexed, because the police most certainly would not have put that sign up, and it seemed a pointless sign in any event.  It could of course have been a misprint, and the first 'c' should have been a 't' so it read "Polite Notice".  But why be polite to someone when telling them not to steal fuel? 

Exchange Number 2 - "Coronation Street"

Scene - Roy's Rolls Cafe, with Anna serving behind the counter.

Ryan:  "A pasty to go, please."
Anna:  "That's one-pound-ten altogether."

TMWSC is completely perplexed at the inclusion of the word 'altogether' - it was a single item at a single price (?)



Exchange Number 3 - "Hollyhocks"

Scene - TMWSC is sitting with Mrs MWSC in the garden, visiting mum & dad.  All are sitting at a small table on the patio.

Dad:   "You're Hollyhocks are doing well over in the corner, luv."
Mum:  "That's why I didn't want you to pull them out."

The weird and immediate response was in no way explained, justified or expanded upon, and TMWSC was left to wonder whether there had been the threat of hollyhock-removal at some time in the recent past.

Exchange Number 4 - "Co-op"

Scene - TMWSC is queuing at the kiosk where a single till operator is serving.  There is one woman with a basket in front, being served.  To the left, there is one normal checkout in operation.  TMWSC senses a chap join the queue, behind him.

Checkout Operator:  "Do you want to use this till?"
Customer:                 "I just want some cigarettes."  [He moves across to the empty checkout]
Checkout Operator:  "What would you like?"
Customer:                 "Ten Superkings Smooth Menthol."

The checkout operator leaves her stool and walks around me to the side entrance to the kiosk counter, repeating to herself the complex cigarette order as she goes.  She stoops down just past the kiosk till operator, who is just finishing scanning the contents of the basket for the woman in front.

Checkout Operator:  "Now then, where am I looking . . . ?"
Kiosk Till Operator:   "What are you looking for?"
Checkout Operator:  "Menthol Superkings Smooth, ten."
Kiosk Till Operator:   "Down a bit, there . . . . there . . to the left."

The Till Operator then bends down to take a packet of the shelf, and presents it to her co-worker.

Checkout Operator:  "No, I need ten."

The Till Operator then bends down again, swaps the 20 pack for a smaller one, and presents it to her co-worker.  All the time, TMWSC is watching, and astounded that a customer can avoid joining the queue for the cigarette kiosk till, and use the general checkout, so that the operator can walk to the kiosk, and illicit the help of the kiosk till operator in locating the required cigarette, forcing a delay in the serving of those in a queue for the kiosk till. 

Customer:  "Thanks very much."  [Paying for the cigarettes, at the main checkout]

TMWSC waits as the woman in front produces a credit card to pay for her few items.  He receives an enquiry from the Checkout Operator to his left.

Checkout Operator:  "Do you want to use this till?"
TMWSC:                   "I need the Lottery."
Checkout Operator:  "Oh, I can't do that, sorry.  That's a shame.

TMWSC is left to wait his turn, bemused.  As the checkout operator sits on her stool and does nothing, TMWSC wonders why the fuck she can't go round him and enter the kiosk as she'd done a minute earlier, and tap at the Lottery machine which was also sitting doing nothing.  It would seem that this would be rather too much to expect, and that her limited skills involved slowing down the service at the kiosk while serving people at the back of any queue.  The Co-operative - shit with food, so much worse with service.

...

Wednesday, 15 August 2012

15.8.12 Britain's Greatest Modern Man

I see today that a list has been published, putting the top 25 blokes in order.  For your amusement, here is the list with some additional notes from yours truly.

25th  - Colin Jackson
Sorry, but I really don't care that he's at the lowest position in the table.  How the fuck does a nice guy who's jumped a few hurdles years ago qualify for being in the mix for a vote on the Greatest Modern Man in Britain ?  Absolutely laughable!

24th  - Bob Crow
This is the man who threatened a full strike ahead of the Olympics, in a bid to fuck everything up!  How the hell can a union leader (paid by subscribers to fuck up the country) be deemed worthy of any votes at all in such a list?  Baffling!

23rd  - Alex Salmond
This is the man whose inclusion in the list is the most unbelievable, simply because he's on a mission to get Scotland OUT of Britain!  British?  He doesn't even want to be British!  Fuck off!

22nd  - Gordon Brown
Oh dear, oh cuntin' dear.  How is he even mentioned, after the bollocks of a job he did for the UK?  I despair completely, if he's supposed to in some way represent the ideals in a 'great man'.  Horrendously poor taste is being exercised with his inclusion on the list.

21st  - Alan Sugar
I am not sure what makes a man great, but am reasonably sure that Alan Sugar is not really a perfect example.  Yes, he worked hard and built something significant from scratch.  In that regard, his example is a good one, and others should realise what's achievable with hard work.  Where such a person should be included in a top 25 I do not know.

20th  - Lewis Hamilton
Sorry, but a guy who earns millions of pounds for driving fast round a track is most definitely NOT someone who deserves the accolade of being the 20th greatest modern man.  Nice bloke (seemingly) is one thing, but to be included in this list is just silly.

19th  - Tom Jones
My, My ,My (Delilah).  The definition of 'great' is clearly flawed as fuck.

18th  - Paul McCartney
Ditto the above.  He ponced off John Lennon for recognition forty-odd years ago, and is annoying the fuck out of everyone these days with his woeful 'performances' which prove he should have been put out to pasture at least a decade ago.  Great?  No - deluded and stupidly honoured?  Yes.

17th  - Sam Warburton
Nothing to do with bread.  I had to admit defeat upon seeing the name, as I've never heard of him.  Surely that has some relevance if the honour is supposed to be Greatest Modern Man.  Not hearing of someone rather proves he can't be in the running.  He plays rugby - possibly very well - but to me that is not reason enough to earn such recognition.

16th  - Richard Dawkins
Nothing to say about him really.  Irrelevant.

15th  - Michael Caine
In a weird way, he is in fact a role model of sorts, and the British public has a strange affinity with Mr Caine because he's always been seen as an 'ordinary bloke'.  On that basis, I suggest that he could indeed provide an example to us all of what might be possible from humble beginnings, even though he is no more than an actor.

14th  - Boris Johnson
I am baffled.  Not just by his inclusion in the list, but by the man himself.  He's an enigma, and a buffoon, and yet so popular.  He's managed to mix his privileged background with ordinariness to a perfect degree, and most people laugh, but like him.  I'm not sure that makes him 'great' at all, but he's certainly unique and worth having around.

13th  - Bobby Charlton
I suppose he was always going to feature at some or other position, being a favourite of the nation and a safe bet.

12th  - Jeremy Clarkson
Love or hate him, he's got something.  He speaks for the ordinary bloke, and mostly speaks a lot of common sense.  If there's someone who can cut through the crap, it's Clarkson.

11th  - Rowan Atkinson
I suspect that he's a successful 'export' via his Mr Bean antics, as well as being liked in the UK for his rubberiness.  I don't understand the criteria upon which individuals are judged for inclusion in this list.  I suppose he is talented, unique and funny, so must be of some use.

10th  - Ranulph Fiennes
At last someone who's done something worthwhile, demanding and noble, without embracing capitalism and self projection as the core requirement.

9th  - Bradley Wiggins
Really nice bloke who's worked very hard and set a great example to people.  His reserved and humble nature mean his inclusion in the list is warranted.

8th  - Alex Ferguson
Don't like the bloke or think he's worth inclusion.  However, I suppose his achievements are significant in the world of football - a surreal world where everything is fucked or horrible.

7th  - Duke of Edinburgh
Fair play.  He has steadfastly support HM and provided amusement as well.  Devoted, no doubt.

6th  - Richard Branson
Aside from the antics in which he's engaged over the years, there can be no doubt that he's inspirational and unique with his forward thinking, positivity and enthusiasm.

5th  - Tim Berners-Lee
Apparently he invented the internet, so I suppose he deserves a place in the list more so than most.  I don't know a thing about him though.

4th  - David Beckham
I am the first to say that David Beckham seems a nice bloke, and that he's no doubt a great family man.  However, I refuse to believe that this, together with his ability to relentlessly market himself, is reason enough to receive 4th place in a 'Greatest Modern Man' vote.  He plays football, poses, and makes shitloads of money while smiling.  Dubious credentials, I'd say, for such a high position.

3rd  - David Attenborough
At last a thoroughly decent man who worked for decades in his chosen field, and is loved by all.  Well deserved place.

2nd - Stephen Hawking
I suppose he's in a strong position to be included, so no gripes.  I still haven't worked out what determines people's positions on this list.

1st  - Johnson Beharry
He's the most well-known soldier this country has, and there's no doubt he's been brave to the ultimate degree.  There must, therefore, be numerous other armed forces personnel who've not had the same publicity, but whose efforts have trumped those of some of the idiots on the list (?)  Without awareness, they will go unrecognised, and instead, Johnson ends up being a sort of representative for the combined armed forces.  Deserves - definitiely.  But comparing someone who's been awarded the VC with a union leader who's threatened an all-out strike, or a sports person, is just madness.

...

Tuesday, 14 August 2012

14.8.12 Travelling Takes Its Toll

The UK has become hard work to move around.  In the last ten years, there has been a significant rise in the allowance needed on any journey to get to where one is going.  Pretty much every journey now has to have some sort on contingency for delays arising at one or more points on the way.  Sadly, it is often better simply not to bother, and to spend more time on the phone, or on emails/facebook, or on Skype.  It is now a mug's game to entertain the thought that a trip of 200 miles will take 3-4 hours.  These days, that's 4-5 hours on a regular basis.

Last week, a trip to Leeds was (according to the AA Route Finder) a simple matter of an hour and forty-five minutes in a car.  Bearing in mind that these AA reports assume a rather lowly 50mph, there's often room to make up some time.  How cunting frustrating, then, to be trapped in a transit of three and a quarter hours for this fucking journey.  Yes, that's right!  Why did this happen?  Some cunt decided to shut the A19 last Wednesday.  Now, I've no wish to encourage death or severe injury on anyone, but there is only one acceptable basis for the road being closed - that the carnage and outcome of the accident was horrendous enough to leave both lanes of the carriageway impassable.  If that was not the case, then we have yet another example of the CIC deciding to close a road unnecessarily.  [CIC = Cunts In Charge, if you don't know].  I rather suspect that it was easier all round for the hi-viz festooned cunts in chevron-laden vans to put some cones out and close a road than to work around the problem/accident.

The 'diversion' signed were a fucking joke, and the gridlock that arose at the roundabout (after a painful crawl off the main road lasting ages) was awful.  The signage was pathetic and the diversion options were ludicrously shite.  I ended up taking a road that was a cunt in itself, and then came across further cunts who'd decided to resurface the road.  Even this was a nightmare; far from proper resurfacing input, the useless arses were merrily sprinkling chippings on to hot black glue.  The tailback was simply dire, and the delay significant.  As for the final quality of the road after this useless attempt at resurfacing, I can honestly confirm it will be (and by now fucking well is) cunting shit!  Why does the UK highways agency think that grey chippings is the way forward?  Abysmal cunting input by cunts who fucking delay everyone for no cunting good reason.

I got to Leeds after a journey of three hours and fifteen minutes.  So, an hour and a half extra in my car, sweating, and all for a meeting of 50 minutes, after which I had the return leg.  By now, the mess driving the other way was history and irrelevant to the return route, so just 2 hours more.  Five and a quarter hours in a car to have a 50 minutes face-to-face meeting.  Skype has to be the way forward!

I am sure the insurance companies are now well equipped to haggle over the mess that arose on the A19.  The cost of their knowledge was disruption to the journeys of 2000 fucking motorists who didn't drive like a cunt and/or crash!

Towards the end of the week, I had to travel to Scotland.  I took a different route from that of my previous visit, to add some variety to my experience, and I was rewarded with a trouble-free and relatively traffic-free journey.  I knew I was heading in the right direction when a 4x4 vehicle came towards me from the other direction, and its registration plate was:  K1 LTS .  After a very early start and a long drive before a meeting, it wasn't until gone 2pm that I had anything to eat.  The McDonald's meal was adequate for my needs, although the stupid number of kids in the place was unnecessary.  There ought to be a health warning about excessive consumption of burgers but I suppose they are probably amongst the healthier foodstuffs consumed by the Scots!



The Travelodge was a cunt to find, in the dark.  Oh, I could get within its environs without much issue.  Even my useless Garmin satnav was able to get me close enough.  However, Travelodges are renowned for being not quite where they're supposed to be, and having signs no bigger than a post-it.  This one was no exception.  I knew I was close, but with poor visibility and local lighting, I had to phone the reception for directions for the last few hundred yards.  Needless to say that the girl who answered was of no help.  Not really her fault - it was her first day in the job.  Still, a loitering Jock was able to assist; he came to the phone and after a quick verbal exchange said he come to get me and guide me in.  Turned out he was a taxi/minibus driver who was at the reception, and he'd nothing better to do.  So it was that two minutes later, he flashed his lights and I followed him the 400yds.  The Travelodge did indeed have a small sign at the end of the short road in which it was located.  The sign, though, was visible only from one side of the carriageway (which had a concrete central divide) and you had to be driving in a certain direction to have any chance of seeing it.  I was going to fail on this score before I ever left home!

I checked in, after a day that had included six-and-a-half hours in a car.  I was thus not ready for any unnecessary issues or delays.  The first of them arose upon my attempt to enter the corridor that included rooms 20-40.  The keycard was supposed to make the light turn green and allow the door handle to be turned.  However, I saw no change in colour when I slipped the plastic into the slot.  Fucking unnecessary bollocks.  Annoyed, I returned to the main reception to highlight the deficiency in the card and the system.  I was issued with a replacement card, and walked back to the door from the main foyer and bar area to the corridor.  I slid the keycard in, and waited.

Behind me, an Asian chap appeared, carrying a small carrier bag and a slip of paper.  He hovered before speaking:

"I'm looking for room something-or-other."  [He did not actually say 'something or other' but gave a room number - I just cannot remember what it was.  In fact, I was do disinterested that I never properly registered the number he gave to be able to forget it afterwards.]

"Oh."  I carried on considering whether to kick the door down, or perhaps try the card the other way round in the slot.  The bloke was still there.  I turned around again, and saw he was delivering a take-away.  I did not think this at the time, but have at other times (as well as now) thought it rather odd that it's called a take-away when it is being delivered by the establishment from which it was ordered.  If one does not arrive to collect food and 'take it away', how can the food be deemed a 'take-away' then?

I realised the chap was waiting for me - giving me time to attend to the door entry issue.  I did not appreciate why, but did think it an odd approach, because if the food was for me, and by sheer fucking coincidence he'd happened to approach me and match me to the room from which the order was placed, I'd have fucking said so, paid, and taken the bag.  As it was, I did nothing.  I looked at the door again, so as not to encourage him, but then felt compelled to offer some minor attention.

"I'm looking for room something-or-other."  [ditto the above note]

"What's that got to do with me?  I've only just arrived, and I'm trying to get through this door to my room!"

"Oh, sorry."  Off he went, in search of someone hungry who had a keycard and probable access to room something-or-other.

At reception, I announced my third arrival of the evening with: "I am getting very annoyed now."  It turned out to be more than enough to encourage a flurry of attention, and the issue of a replacement room as well as a new card; I was to use room 119 instead of 30.  I felt this was a substantial enough change to defeat the shortcomings of the card programming system and/or the door to the ground floor corridor.  I left the reception, successfully went to the first floor and found my room at the far end of a long corridor.  Hurrah.

After changing, I headed back to the main area, where I knew I could get some food.  I passed a chap in the corridor, who was putting his plastic card in and out of the slot on the door to his room.  I let him know the machine was fucked, and learnt that after 10 hours driving a lorry, this was all he needed.  As he'd endured a driving stint far longer than my own (53.85% longer in fact) I felt some sympathy for him.  He followed me down, and he went to reception while I went to the bar.

The bar menu was disappointing.  The biggest section was headed "Starters & Nibbles" but I was not in the mood to start nibbling.  I was informed by the woman behind the bar that she had no goujons, and after I took a good look at her, I nodded in agreement.  There were four 'side' options, and a single option for afters - a "Lemon Meringue Ice Cream Cake".  I thought this was taking the piss, as this one entry was trying to overcompensate, with claims to be a Meringue, an Ice Cream and a Cake.  To top it all, the description managed to include a 'biscuit base' as further enticement.  This left the actual menu with just three entries for proper portions.  These were pizzas; Four Cheese, Chicken Supreme and Pepperoni.  With mild enthusiasm, I asked for a pepperoni pizza to go with my pint of lager, and then went to sit and watch some sport on TV.

A couple of minutes later, Morag (I've no idea what her real name was) came over from the direction of the kitchen and announced there was no pepperoni pizza available.  The massively limited choice of food was now being further reduced because some cunt had forgotten to order one of the three pizzas on the menu.

Morag:     "What would you like on it instead?"
TMWSC: "Surprise me, put anything on it, whatever toppings you can rustle up."
Morag:     "I'm sorry, but they come ready made.  There's Cheese or Chicken."

Cheese?  Every cunting pizza has got cheese on it, so this was hardly an option that filled me with glee or hope for the future of mankind!  As for chicken (or 'Chicken Supreme' as I saw, when I looked at the menu after Morag's departure) I have never chosen a chicken pizza in my life.  Chicken does not belong on a fucking pizza.  Still, with no wish to rely solely on cheese, I was forced to go along with the fowl choice.

TMWSC: "I'll have chicken, then."
Morag:     "It's very nice."

I'll be the judge of that, I thought, as Morag made her way to the kitchen to heat a pizza.  When it came, I was not disappointed . . . . . I was fucking gutted.  Gutted that I'd not eaten elsewhere.  I had been of the opinion that chicken should not reside on top of a pizza, and after consumption of 60% of the food, I had that opinion reinforced to the pint where I'll never again place such an order.  Stodge with chicken on it - and certainly NOT fucking 'Supreme'.  Luckily there were seven sachets of ketchup available, and these helped me down the food.  I considered writing to Travelodge to complain.  The small menu card featured a photo on the front of a Pepperoni Pizza, and inside, one photo of a starter - Goujons.  With both unavailable, I wondered whether the third photo was also a tease; it was of the 4-in-1 dessert which would most certainly have been off the menu if I'd bothered to ask for it.

I drove the very short distance the next morning to a meeting which proved less fruitful than it should have, but afterwards, with the collection of information gleaned from three prospective clients, I headed south, sweating in what was turning into a hot day.  I took offence at the overhead signs.  The first stated: Watch Your Speed.  I looked at my dial, decided I was happy with 110mph, but then thought that despite the warning, I really ought to look forward and keep my eyes on the road!  I am joking, of course.  I was actually doing 70mph.  What a pointless fucking sign.  Further on, there was another: Tyre Safety Check Your Tread.  I considered that for this, I'd not manage while moving, and that it would be contrary to the directive in terms of safety anyway.  I felt suitably advised by some cunt who no doubt feels better if he/she send silly messages to drivers.  I expected the next one to say: Don't Crash.  However, I was disappointed, and all I came across was a section of roadworks, at the start of which (on a flyover) was a police van checking speeds.  In Scotland, there must be a nervousness about people getting to where they're going too quickly.  Instead of the standard 50mph limit in the section of road that was reduced to 2 lanes, it was 40mph.  Fortunately I'd slowed enough on seeing the 40mph sign; actually, I simultaneously saw the police van, so I cannot claim to be too good.  I was reminded of another overhead sign I'd seen on the M1 a couple of weeks earlier, which I thought had been put in place by an eighteenth century vicar, because I read it as: PRAY SLOW DOWN.  In fact, there was an 'S' at the beginning.

I stopped at Gretna Green, to make a couple of calls, and see what I could get from the service area by way of drink and food.  The place was fucking mobbed!  I managed to find one of the very few parking spaces, and spent ten minutes on the phone.  A wander into the building was a pointless exercise, as I wandered straight back again.  The queues were ludicrous, for everything.  I aborted.  Back on the motorway, I was pleased to see the illiterate Eddie Stobart was (bewilderingly) still "Delivering Sustainable Solutions", as the big lettering announced down the side of a trailer.  I wondered if the solutions came in plastic drums.

Four and a quarter hours after setting off, I arrived home.  I really must try to find a better alternative to Travelodge for my next stay - but as it's the cheapest option (usually) I may not have much choice.  As for long distance driving, it's a mug's game.  Still, pro-rata, the three calls in Scotland was more efficiently covered than the one in Leeds, in terms of time and driving!

...

Monday, 13 August 2012

13.8.12 Olympic Observations

Let them get their breath back

It defies logic that an interviewer would stick a microphone into the face of a competitor who has just completed an event and is clearly knackered.  However, Phil Jones is certainly not capable of being respectful of the athletes' efforts and managed to prompt the Men's Marathon winner with pointless questions.  The Ugandan bloke was clearly a) Knackered, and b) Struggling with the language.  Phil's persistence did not pay off, and the pathetic need he had to get a formulaic answer to his question was annoying as fuck.  By way of a question, Phil confirmed to us that the runner had sacrificed a lot and moved away from Uganda at the age of 13.  He did not get the response of "It's all been worth it, and it's amazing" because the guy had better things to do than waste a second on Phil after his long run in the hot weather.

Annie Last was snared after her mountain bike exertions to deal with the same old questions from an interviewer before she could deal with what was surely a greater priority - get a drink of fucking water.  Helen Skelton may be enthusiastic, but I think a tad more understanding is called for.

At the end of the last boxing match, it was apparently more important for Anthony Joshua to respond to questions and set out his plans for the rest of his life before getting his breath back and grabbing a drink.  All interviewers have seemed intent on getting the standard answers from the winners, and making sure that we all get reminded just how important the crowd was.

Peculiar turns of phrase

The onward march to slaughter the English language has continued over the last few weeks.  I have no idea when the practice started, but during these Games, the creation of verb forms from nouns has persisted.  Athletes have medalled a lot.  I have no idea whether that is best written as a single 'L' or a double, mainly because it's not a fucking word!  I have also heard a commentator state that the French mountain biker (Julie Bresset) would crest in a moment. The commentator was saying the rider would reach the crest of the hill.  We have also heard that people will podium in an event, and there are other errors starting to become commonplace.

Many athletes do not now run races; instead they execute them (?) for some reason.  I have become sick of the term over-cook now.  Divers, cyclists and many others have all been accused by commentators of over-cooking it; what bollocks.  The wafflers have also suggested that competitors need to dig deep while doing whatever the relevant sport demands - certainly not related to digging.  I hear yesterday someone say that a competitor needed to move up through the gears - but with no bike in sight, I struggled to know how that could be done.  The cliches have been relentlessly provided.

One of the women commentating on the Women's Modern Pentathlon (either Steph Cook or Eleanor Oldroyd) referred this morning THREE times to Samantha Murray's red swim cap.  It's a fucking swimming cap!  This afternoon, the same voice announced: "This is a very tough run course."  It's a cunting running course!  This sort of twisting of the language is closely followed by another form of shit, where it's apparently too much work now to use all the necessary words let alone word endings.  "Followed by a 10km bike" is hardly a comment that makes sense, and it should of course have been "10km bike ride".

Some twat managed to say "Ass" when pronouncing "Asymmetric Bars".  It's always be the letter 'A' for the first syllable!  What the fuck?  Worse, there's a more prevailing fucking trend in speech and in news print to refer to the apparatus as "Uneven Bars".  Is this more evidence of dumbing down for thick cunts?

Finally, athletics commentators and those giving results in diving and swimming, have repeatedly and annoyingly decided that doing so constitutes a tidy up!  For example: "Let's tidy things up now with the results of the second heat."  It's not tidying up, you twats, it's giving us the results!

Dressage

Congratulations are in order, after the win which saw a 28-year domination by Germany finally come to an end.  What I've found mildly amusing/ironic are the various reports on this event.  The first thing to note is that one of the main contributions to the Gold Medal performance came from Laura Bechtolsheimer.  Coincidentally, she was born in Germany (no points for guessing that considering the surname).  The real amusement came from two other aspects.  The first was a report in the newspaper on the dressage team that included Charlotte Dujardin and Carl Hester.  The article included the following: "Afterwards a delighted Dujardin paid glowing tribute to mentor Hester, who spent the last five years grooming her."  Not the best portrayal of his efforts, eh?

The other observation concerns the weird perspective documented, which tried to convince us that the sport is not elitist, and is available to anyone.  Hester said: "It shows that dressage is accessible to everyone," on the back of his assertion that he comes from Sark, and has a remote and rural background which included learning to ride a donkey bareback.  Meanwhile, Charlotte's grandfather happens to be a billionaire.  Okay, Laura was a stable girl who benefited from her links to the world of dressage in a way that has proven wonderful.  I am not sure that Hester's further comment proves she's not fortunate; he said: "Charlotte came through ponies and showjumping which is accessible to everyone."  Sorry, chap, but that's just not true!  Nevertheless, congratulations to all of you for getting a medal.  BUT - Don't try and make out that dressage is available to all.  How many schools or communities have the resources, time, expertise or inclination to provide dressage options - let alone a £5M horse?

Football

Anyone care that GB went out in the first game after the group stage?  Thought not.  Football shouldn't even be in the Olympics, and I am actually glad that the team didn't get far.  Especially as the existence of a GB team has been allowed for the first time in 52 years.  The players won't have to go back to the drawing board - there's nothing to go back to because GB football does not really exist.  Well done Mexico for beating Brazil in the final - a truly excellent result.

Jade Jones

Marvellous.  Well done for the Gold in taekwondo, especially at 19 years old.  As impressive as your upward throwing of your helmet after being announced the winner was your wonderful singing in full of the national anthem!  Have a word with the sulky Ryan Giggs, who apparently is also Welsh but refuses to acknowledge the British national anthem while participating for Great Britain.  Yep, I can't work that one out either.  Super performance, Ms Jones.

Walking

I completely missed the walking.  I don't feel deprived, though, because it's a weird sport.  In fact it's the only one where there's real effort not to go too quick.  In all other competitions, it's advantageous in some way to go more quickly.  However, if walkers go too quickly, they stray into the realms of jogging/running, and will be disqualified.  That means competitors have to move as quickly as they can whilst denying themselves to move too quickly and whilst making sure they look fucking stupid as they move.

VIPs

I saw a newspaper report, the morning after the final of the Men's 200m.  It read as follows:

"But Bolt went one better last night, retaining the crown he won in Beijing in 2008, watched by VIP guests including Prince Harry, Lord Coe and Frank Lampard."

Frank fucking Lampard ??? Ha !!!

...

13.8.12 Olympics 2012 - BBC Overview

What a frantic couple of weeks, and what an amazing result for GB!  Third place for a relatively small country is pretty good going.  I suppose there could be some criticism that most medals for GB depend on competitors sitting down, what with saddles on bikes and horses, and seats in canoes, kayaks and rowing boats.  However, to complement those efforts we've had a haul of medals in other disciplines which require a different position from sitting down, and it's clear we have achieved something wonderful overall.

Woeful, however, has been the input from some of the commentators and pundits that have overloaded us with drivel and bollocks via their microphones, and from the comfort of their sofas.  It's a shame that their performances from a sitting position have not by a long way matched the performances of Team GB.

Commentators and Pundits

Sue Barker

Proficient at little else but gurning, squinting and frowning, this last two-week feast of sport has annoyingly featured Sue at the helm far too often.  Sadly the BBC seems to have decided she's equipped to tell us about all sorts of things sort-related, with the pained expression and annoying tone. 

Gary Lineker

A bit too smug, Gary.  You're under the (mistaken) impression that you can do no wrong and that the public likes you whatever your input and supposed talents.  At one point, I heard him comment in the most dismissive manner about an unsuccessful appeal in the hockey by the Spanish coach, who was very unhappy with a decision.  "Oh well" is NOT sporting at all, and is actually totally unacceptable.  Disrespect and smugness is not funny.  This is in complete contrast to the sporting behaviour displayed by the overwhelming number of participants.  Crass, Gary; go away.  I resent you getting inflated wages via my licence fee.

Jake Humphrey

Here's another 'presenter' who is of mild use in the world of Formula One, but is out of his depth doing anything else.  He is simply annoying as fuck, and I hope that my memories of the excitement in the Velodrome can somehow separate themselves from the stupid shit talked by Humphrey.  Watch out, watch out, there's a Humphrey about is sadly too true.

John Inverdale

'Middle of the road.'  Not just the best place for him, but as a general comment on his input.  Still, he did have the unfortunate job of having to endure (and I use that word advisedly) the nauseating and ego-obsessed Steve Redgrave, who just loved the attention and made most reports directly or indirectly about himself and his associations, glories, medals, input or abilities.  I am not trying to take away from him the successes he achieved in a boat, but that does NOT mean he's got any right to talk at me about anything and everything associated with rowing, and give his opinions on all the other competitors and laud it.

Gabby Yorath

Absolutely fine.  She's never offensive, never obsessed with herself, and is easy to listen to as she lines up something else for us to watch.

Claire Balding

Well, after being harsh on her in the past, she's actually proved herself to be knowledgeable, hard-working and entertaining during her stints on screen.  Well done, luv.

Ian Thorpe

Slightly odd perspective, some odd comments, but all the time engaging and certainly different to listen to.  Good choice.

Hazel Irvine

Unfortunately this is someone who most definitely should be left in a cupboard in Sheffield until it's time for the annual snooker world championship.  There is no place for her anywhere else. 

Michael Johnson

Easy to listen to, intelligent, talks honestly and shows generosity with respect.  Overall, an excellent guest on any show.  Fuck knows why he doesn't get signed up more, at the expense of one or two of the other twats.  I have no idea why we always have to have so many 'experts' to contribute their views.

Denise Lewis

Pointless.  Hopefully never again.  Of less use than the gherkin slices that I discard from any McDonald's burger.

Colin Jackson

For what it's worth, Mrs MWSC thought, when she heard his voice in commentary, that she was listening to a woman.  Colin is pleased to be enthusiastic and to smile a lot.  What extra information I have gleaned from his being included in the BBC team amounts to 'fuck all'.  Still, he's not alone in adding nothing to my life or knowledge.

Christine Still

Her input during the gymnastics caused me on more than one occasion to turn the sound off.  I wish there was a 'mute' button just for her, but sadly it was no sound at all, or her monotonous verbal barrage.  Could someone at the BBC tell her that a commentator does not actually have to be making a noise into a microphone at all times.  The nasal tone and fucking atrocious shit that is fed to us during any gymnast's routine is frighteningly awful.  It makes her sidekick (the bumbling and patronising Mitch Fenner) seem bearable, which is actually a travesty in itself.

Hugh Porter

This guy is amazing, and his velodrome contributions deserve to feature on their own in a post on this site.  I cannot begin to do justice to his faux pas on the commentary front, which is sadly the only reason he was employed by the BBC.  With linguistic abilities akin to a John Prescott on acid, crossed with John Motson's ability to avoid shutting up at all costs, Hugh managed so many clangers he proved himself incapable.  On one particular matter, I went to Google to do some research.  What prompted me to do this?  Hugh's pronunciation of "Trinidadian", which he frequently relayed with an "A" (as in the letter, with a long sound) for the third syllable, rather than it being a short "a", as in the word "dad".  I entered some words, and got links to YouTube, where I was able to listen to a number of clips.  In these, I heard many people from Trinidad refer to themselves as Trinidadians with a short 'a' sound, and not one used a pronunciation that made Trinidadians rhyme with Canadians.  This aspect of his commentary was grating as fuck - in fack, as bad as the pronunciation of 'Vettel' by David Coulthard which was (until last year went he finally relented) not the stress on the first syllable so it rhymed with 'kettle' but with the stress on the second syllable - out of sync with the rest of the world.

Chris Boardman

Chris, along with Ed Leigh managed to present the women's mountain bike event in a way that gave Hugh Porter a run for his money.  Talking shit came naturally to both (as per a post on 11th August).  Chris had of course contributed to the velodrome goings-on, and was well warmed up after mumbling little of interest for a good week or so, when asked to do so by Jake Humphrey.  What with Mark Cavendish mumbling away when pushed into commenting (again) by Humphrey, the velodrome coverage was well below par - ironic considering the input by the cyclists was phenomenal.

John McEnroe

Always fairly amusing.  Once the tennis had finished, I am not sure he should have been relied upon for great input - some might say before the tennis had finished, the same applied.  Still, even if he was talking about some other sport, he generally had a light-hearted stance and was a welcome relief from the many other BBC twats.

Jill Douglas, Rishi Persad & Matt Baker

Okay, but nothing more.  I think 'adequate' was the highest level of achievement, but nothing horrendous.

Sonali Shah

Oh my!  What a disaster.  So out of her depth, although I suspect she'd struggle to manage with a kitchen sink and a plate to wash up.

Barry Davies

Whether it's tennis from Wimbledon, or Hockey, he did what he normally does and he was fine.  It's a shame that the BBC didn't let people do what they're used to doing across the board.  Instead, we've had the wrong people involved.

Phil Jones

During the first few days of the athletics, I though Team GB had been given the interviewing services of one of the Judo team - a bloke called Phil Jones, who was clearly happy to hold a microphone in his right hand, while practising moves with his left hand.  I half expected to see one of his targets in a half nelson.  I suspect that if any of the athletes who went over to talk to him at the side of the track had been wearing a judo suit, he would have grabbed the collar and gone for a 'nippon'.  Phil Jones mauled every interviewee, grabbing shoulders - male and female.  Someone must have said something eventually, as he had stopped doing this by Thursday.

BBC Coverage

Most people agree it's been good.  What has annoyed me a lot, though, has been the time spent (wasted) on the features, build-up discussions, and needless recaps while there's some sport going on.  Watching a VT for five minutes about someone's story is of less interest than something happening in real time. 

Worse, though, has been the weird obsession with making athletes and participants give their views on the crowd, what winning a medal means to them, what was going through their minds, etc etc etc.  Fifty per cent of all questions asked by interviewers during the Olympics have been pointless and/or repetitive.

The best question by an interviewer was posed yesterday morning to Ed McKeever after he collected his Gold Medal for the win in his kayak. 

"What was going through your mind?  When you were up there, there must have been so much going through your mind, about all those hours training, about the help from your coaches and your parents and how you were so pleased they'd bought you your first canoe as a child, and how you overcame all the set-backs and stuck it out over many years, dreaming one day of a medal, and all the preparations coming into the Olympics . . . . . . . (etc)"

"Sorry to disappoint you, but no - I was just enjoying the moment."

Priceless!

...

13.8.12 Olympic Commentary Gold

There has been so much rubbish talked by pundits and commentators in the last two and a half weeks that I cannot begin to claim the details below represent more than a tenth of what ought to be relayed to you.  Nevertheless, and "in no particular order" as they say, here are some of the things we've heard.

1  -  "Every detail is not left unturned."  [Mark Cavendish]
2  -  "She's only eighteen years of old."  [Canoeing commentator]
3  -  "Part of a 3-man team; two men and one woman representing Canada."  [Boxing commentator]
4  -  "It was my ambition to come away with at least one podium."  [Victoria Pendleton admitting a theft habit]
5  -  "There's cross-pollination in the coaching squad."  [Hugh Porter]
6  -  "It ended up much more closer than it came out in the end."  [Denise Lewis]
7  -  "He is possessed with great talent."  [Athletics commentator]
8  -  "Sometimes the best 1500m runner doesn't able to win a tactical race."  [Brendan Foster]
9  -  "Victories always hurt more when you lose."  [Mark Foster]
10 - "He always throws his bike at the line in a wheelie style of finish."  [Cycling commentator]
11 - "He suffered so much of injuries."  [Colin Jackson]
12 - "Shane Archbold is going to do a lone time trial on his own."  [Hugh Porter]
13 - "He gave himself a little margin of error, wasn't it."  [Barry Davies]
14 - "She can smell a silver medal here at Hadleigh Farm."  [Ed Leigh]
15 - "Both the French riders went down in practice."  [Ed Leigh]
16 - "We can just see her start to crest now."  [Ed Leigh]
17 - "We've got a little game of mountain bike musical chairs going on."  [Ed Leigh]
18 - "They're constantly changing direction all the time."  [Chris Boardman]
19 - "This course is so quick and fast."  [Chris Boardman]
20 - "They've broken the world record in the last 6 races they've taken place in."  [Hugh Porter]
21 - "His points tally mean he will not be caught."  [Sailing commentator]
22 - "It's the last night of swimming in the pool."  [Gary Lineker]
23 - "Cycling have got just 14 events."  [Jake Humphrey]
24 - "The distance between the hurdles are further apart."  [Colin Jackson]
25 - "Her coach knows exactly what he is doing."  [Athletics commentator]
26 - "They took it gracefully."  [Daley Thompson, meaning 'graciously']
27 - "This won't tickle if he gets it wrong."  [Diving commentator]
28 - "It was a huge quantum leap."  [As opposed to a small one?  John Inverdale]
29 - "Luke will use those counter-punching ability he's got."  [Boxing commentator]
30 - "With the British providing the book ends of the podium, with 1st and 3rd place at the moment."  [Cycling commentator]
31 - "He's there because he's won the most number of gold medals."  [Jake Humphrey]
32 - "It's 4.1 on the Richter Scale when it comes to diving."  [Diving commentator]
33 - "We haven't really started the competition yet.  That was the hors d'oeuvres - now for the four course meal."  [Diving commentator]
34 - "If she'd gone the other way, it would have been a good penalty."  [Lucy Ward]
35 - "That was a metronomic performance from her."  [Chris Boardman]
36 - "There are certain performances that are forever etched in your mind forever."  [Denise Lewis]

Poor Grammar Section

a)  - "It has been an awful long time."
b)  - "There's less turns on the front."
c)  - "They conquered the competition in an absolute riveting contest."
d)  - "There's only one team so far who's inside that time."
e)  - "These I feel are the team that will take the lead."
f)   - "Men's basketball now, and GB face Spain."
g)  - "GB's hockey team have made a good start."
h)  - "Each of these moves have their own value."
i)   - "His personal fan club are giving him some support."
j)   - "Botswana have never won an Olympic medal."

There were so, so many fuck-ups that it was impossible to note them, but based on what I've seen, the above is representative of things.

...

Saturday, 11 August 2012

11.8.12 Olympic Mountain Bike Women's Final

What an amazing amount of effort needed to participate in this event!  I think that this has to be one of the most challenging events of all; there is simply no let-up in the physical demands, and the participants all need congratulating.

Rather less impressive was the commentary, which at times was as far removed from the excellence of the riders' efforts as it could be.  The two blokes talking drivel were Chris Boardman and Ed Leigh.

Boardman Biking Bollocks 

1 - "This course is so quick and fast."  [So, both then, Chris, eh?]
2 - "They're constantly changing direction all the time."  [Another double-up, Chris!]
3 - "She was bested by the French rider."  [Fuck off with the bollocks; "bettered" would be okay, but please don't be such a twat with "bested".]
4 - "A metronomic performance from her."  [Two or three times this word was used; go back to sleep, Chris.]
5 - "Descent".  [Don't be confused - this is noted for the pronunciation.  Chris, you are not American, so the stress is on the second syllable!  Numerous twattish instances of D-sent provided for our displeasure.]
6 - Uncontrolled use of the word "Technical" which was thrown at us at least fifty times.

Ed Leigh from Hadleigh

1 - "She can smell a silver medal here at Hadleigh Farm."  [Talking shit.]
2 - "A great souvenir for a spectator."  [Ed's idea of a souvenir is a used plastic water bottle discarded by a sweating bike rider!]
3 - "We can just see her start to crest now."  [This is Ed using the word "crest" as a verb - for fuck's sake!]
4 - "Both the French riders went down in practice."  [Hopefully not on you and Chris!]
5 - "We've got a little game of mountain bike musical chairs going on."  [What complete shite.]



We also had the usual repeated references to "overcooking it" and adverbs devoid of the proper "ly" endings.  There was much else to remark upon, but nothing to commend, from the commentators.  The cyclists, however, deserve admiration.

... 

Monday, 6 August 2012

6.8.12 Team GB - Olympic Cycling

Congratulations to Team GB for some really good performances in the Velodrome.  It is quite clear that Britain has got a real affinity for cycling.  I must say, though, that the 'dodgy' basis for the win in the three-man sprint was rather embarrassing.  Chris Hoy, Jason Kenny and Philip Hindes were allowed a second go after Hindes contrived to fall off his bike after starting badly.

Strangely, and unlike any other sport I can think of, it's apparently all right to have another go if there's a mishap at the start of a race.  This unique and 'generous' approach within the world of cycling means it's relatively easy for cyclists to introduce some manipulation when necessary.  This is exactly what Hindes did; he purposely used a loophole in the competition rules to get a second go for the trio.

I think there's a clear case for a change in the rules, which are lax enough to result in this blatant gamesmanship.  Nevertheless, rule deficiencies aside, the unsportsmanlike antics of GB were hardly things to be proud of, and they remove any rights we felt we may have had to criticise other teams, whether for drawing 0-0 on the football pitch to avoid relocating from Cardiff to Glasgow, or in Badminton, where bizzarely a number of competitors in the doubles matches were trying to lose.

What is rather pathetic is the useless 'cover up' engineered by members of the GB team and endorsed wholeheartedly by the BBC.  Philip Hindes admitted most publicly and comprehensively how he fell on purpose, to gain a restart.  He even went so far as to explain how this was discussed the night before the race, as a tactic that could be put into action if the appropriate circumstances arose.  I suspect he admitted this so readily because he knew he was not technically breaking the rules, and felt no need to be coy or embarrassed.  Unfortunately the spirit of the competition had been tainted to fuck.



British Backpedal

The subsequent scurrying around (back-pedalling if you'd like a pun) to try and promote this whole thing as a 'misunderstanding', and that details were 'lost in translation' was so much more reprehensible, damaging and fucking ludicrous than the falling off by Hindes.  Double standards, Team GB.  I am sure that Hoy was, as reported, rather angry because his marvellous achievement (5th Gold) was indeed embroiled in some controversy.  I am not talking of the fact that one of the three in the team was born in Germany [NB: The rules on nationality, and the fickleness of countries who are desperate to attract new citizens is a can of worms far too big to open on this post] but that really the three-man sprint team should not have been given a second chance to start.  We will never know if the Gold Medal would have been won without this manipulation.

The BBC conspired in the cover-up, and is unlikely to re-examine events in any details, let alone with an objective view.  Instead, it will hail the efforts of all British cysclists (with good reason) and hope we'll all forget about the one episode that should have left a bad taste in the mouths of genuine sporting enthusiasts.  I remember a doubles match at Wimbledon a few weeks ago where a player accidently touched the net at the end of a rally; despite not being seen to do so or penalised for it, he owned up, and so voluntarily forfeited the point because it was the right thing to do.  That's sportsmanship and integrity.  There would at least be some integrity if the cyclists and the BBC admitted that there had indeed been some clever use of the rules to gain an advantage.  Everyone knows this to be the case, yet we are now expected to swallow some guff about 'translation issues' and that nothing as distasteful as falling on purpose took place.  This is the only disgraceful thing I have seen by GB in terms of competition.  I obviously have to discount the non-competitive disgrace of certain Team GB members who when it comes to singing/acknowledging the National Anthem are suddently not British, but Welsh or Scottish and anti the team they are representing!

Summary

1 - Unsporting tactics employed
2 - Admission of the tactics employed
3 - Delayed denial of the tactics so obviously used
4 - Cover-up that was a worse display than the tactics employed!

...

6.8.12 Boris Johnson Flying the Flag

Politicians tend often to be useless individuals who are typically more self-serving than interested in doing the best possible job.  So often, their efforts are annoying, pathetic and devoid of any personal responsibility unless things are going well.  In all of this, there is no room for amusement - except for the antics of Boris Johnson. 



I am sure there will be those who are unimpressed with his politics, and who will on principle oppose him because he's a Conservative.  However, I must say I find him thoroughly entertaining, and erratic.  His latest comedy input left him dangling on a zip-wire.



Conkers, or bonkers?  Clever people are quick to create images, as per the above, and this simply adds to the fun.



There are lots more available online, but these photos suitably exemplify the efforts being put in by amateur comedians.



I think he's an asset to the UK - for all the wrong reasons, but still more interesting than the rest of the fuckers.

...

Friday, 3 August 2012

3.8.12 Socks in a Box

It has been a full month since Mrs MWSC placed the box full of socks on the landing.  Since this action, the only attention given has been the removal of the lid to allow the photo below, and in all other respects, the socks have been given free rein to fester.  No efforts have been made by Junior to provide attention by washing the socks, and so for some considerable time, there has been no removal of sweat, algae, smell or other contaminant from the attire.  Nor has there been any benefit to daily living for Junior, through having 82 (extra) socks at his disposal.



Sock-gate

The forced room clearance (I won't go into the background of this) some weeks ago meant progress in our quest to explain the missing socks.  The 'Bermuda Triangle' effect had been frustrating for so long, and Junior was of course the suspect - and the culprit.  The recovered socks from Junior's bedroom raised a number of questions.

1 - Considering I have only ever seen him buy one mutipack of socks, where the hell does he think they are supposed to come from?

Junior is clearly a wearer-of-socks, but is most certainly NOT a buyer-of-socks.  Yes, there are the occasional presentations to him, whether linked to an occasion or simply out of generosity.  It still defies logic that he thinks his pool of socks is so large.

2 - How is it that the eighty-two socks in the box form a collection that is from multiple sources, and that there are many more pairs involved than the mathematical 41 that ought to make up the total?

I suspect that there are over fifty different socks involved.  50 would mean 50 original pairs have dwindled to 32 complete pairs and there are 18 orphans.  This is a guess, though, and I've no intention of undertaking an audit!

3 - Why does Junior think it's okay to steal his younger brother's socks?  NOTE: The answer is not, never was and never can be: Because he couldn't get hold of any more of mine!

Junior Junior's own supply of socks is basically used as a source for Junior's addiction (WOPS) and until he kicks this habit, JJ's socks are being monitored closely.  It's true that some of the socks were once JJ's, and that after 'contamination', they were left with Junior because it would be intolerable to expect JJ to wear them afterwards.  However, that seems to have given Junior the impression that he can add extra JJ socks to his collection at will.

4 - If a box of 82 socks can sit on the landing not attended to for over a month, what the fuck is Junior wearing now?

He clearly has a supply that has satisfied his further need of socks over a 30-35 day period!  I have not seen him buy any, or receive any from kindly benefactors - so where are they coming from?  He must have a further 70 and counting!  If not, he must be re-wearing them, or be secretly washing a smaller number to keep going.  But why, then, would he not wash the 82 in the box, as prompted to by me on more than one occasion?

Confronting the problem

I emptied the large whicker laundry basket earlier this week, and found at the bottom of it, three black socks.  Two matched, and were once upon a time mine.  They were then (after being illicitly worn by Junior) begrudgingly surrendered to him.  The transfer of ownership was accompanied by a directive from me that in relinquishing any claim to the socks of this particular pattern, I was expecting co-operation through his "leaving-the-fuck-alone" of those socks of a different design, and I set out the groups that were out of bounds / out of feet.  The other black sock was instantly recognisable as mine - and one of the designs supposedly still within my ownership.  The reason for there being no possible mistake or possible contention was the embroidered pattern and writing - which said "Dad".  Yes, these were socks that were presented to me just over a year ago, for Father's Day.  Here I now was, looking at one of my socks in a ball, at the bottom of the basket, clearly the worse for wear - pun fucking intended!  It was mullered.  I did not actually want to touch it, let alone unfurl it or transport it to a washing machine.  I would not in any event want to wear it again, and submit myself to the psychological damage that would accompany the further association with what was once a respectable and hygienic sock.

Later on, I raised the subject with Junior.  "How the fuck do you decide it's all right for you to wear a sock that you bought for me, and that had the word "Dad" written on it?  You had to know that it wasn't yours when you put it on, and that it should not have been going on to your foot!  I sounded incredulous, as you'd probably expect.  Junior was unphased, and whilst he was not actually moving, what with us standing in the kitchen, he took it in his stride.  The mild smirk/grin revealed he was bang-to-rights.  "It had "Dad" on it, for fuck's sake!  That should have stopped you!" 

Junior remained unphased, and said:  "So!?  Having "Dad" on it doesn't matter.  A sock is not foot-specific."  Foot-specific !!!!!!!    Arghhhh !!!!!

I have forty-eight intact pairs of socks which are definitely (still) mine.  I know this because I have just counted them; 43 in the drawer, one pair on my feet, and four 'in the wash'.  One might argue that this is excessive, but considering the Schindler's List that's clearly in play, I'll expect heavy losses in the coming weeks and months.  JJ's supply is under greater threat.  I have found seven orphans, and there are just nine pairs in play.  I have a conundrum now - how do I top up JJ's supply without inviting a dawn raid by Junior?

[ Note: WOPS = Wears Other People's Socks ]
...

Wednesday, 1 August 2012

1.8.12 Chinese Olympic Machine

Training from a young age in China doesn't match the expectations of any western view of such input.






How can any parent want this for their child?

...

1.8.12 Olympic Boxing Farce

I watched a referee being a complete nob, disqualifying an Iranian boxer for no good reason.  The Cuban bloke won after the Iranian was warned again for holding, and disqualified.  The supposed offence was so minor that it was not worth commenting upon.  The Cuban had himself already been warned.  I think the Cuban was embarrassed to be declared the winner in these circumstances.

I do not blame the disqualified boxer for refusing to stand next to the ref for the result.  He left the ring having congratulated the people in the Cuban corner.  Pathetic refereeing, and not for the first time, boxing in the Olympics is a bit of a farce.



Next up, an Italian turned up, stepped into the ring, and was then declared the winner.  It was all a formality because his opponent had not attended the weigh-in earlier in the day.  The Italian held his gloves aloft and celebrated the 'walk-through' win.  Olympic entertainment of the highest order.

I've often heard commentators wrongly refer to Ukraine as 'The Ukraine', but was not expecting to hear during the commentary:

"The man from The Ecuador"

Kazakhstan put a six-foot-nine-inch boxer into the ring, against a tiny six-feet-three German, in the Super-heavyweight category.  It was unsurprisingly an uneven contest.

I missed the absurd refereeing that led to a boxer from Azerbaijan being declared the winner in a contest against Japan.  I believe the reports completely, as I cannot see how anyone has much faith in officialdom when it comes to Olympic boxing.

...

1.8.12 Quotes of the Month - July

It was a very close run thing this month, with Jess and Faye matching each other at 4 entries each.

1st - "Between now and Christmas, I'm warming myself up by touching my eyeball."  [Jess - preparing for a switch to contact lenses]

2nd - "Is Cameroon the capital of Africa?"  [Faye]

3rd - "A little small round square box."  [Man on his mobile in Sainsbury's]

4th - "How tall are you in knowledge in your mind?"  [Jess, overly complicating a simple question]

5th - "We're always jumping out at you when we're at home."  [Faye, ref Charlie, aged 3]

6th - "I don't hold anything in, me!"  [Debs]

7th - "I was smacked the length of Manless Terrace."  [Jess, reminiscing]

8th - "I've played with a seven-incher; Bellamy's ten-incher is too big."  [Faye, regarding tablets]

9th - "I've got a threat of indigestion coming on."  [Emma, ref possible arrival of a threat]

10th - "Your own bodily fluids are acceptable, Jess."  [TMWSC - cross ref 1st Quote]

11th - "He looks like a bollock - a shaved bollock!"  [Liam, ref a bald diver with pronounced veins]

12th - "They've certainly dug into the bottom of their diving toybox and pulled that out."  [BBC commentator on Synchronised Diving]

13th - "They were both doing a good impression of a banana."  [Same commentator talking about the Italian pair]

14th - "What do they need that person sat at the end for?  I think they know what they are doing!"  [Jess, annoyed at the cox for free-loading and the other eight rowers doing extra work]

15th - "Yes, when you've done your ace; oh, you forget there's an 'f' at the beginning of 'face', don't you!"  [Faye - who else!]

16th - "Winning this third set could be pivotal."  [Tim Henman stating the obvious, when the Murray v Federer match went to 1-1]

17th - "A monkey's escaped and they're trying to round it up."  [Dad of TMWSC, deciding it's possible to 'round up' a single monkey (?)]

18th - "I've got an exact same similar one."  [Channel 4, The Hoarder Next Door]

19th - "Official cereal bar to the London Olympic Games."  [TV advert with a concept that defies logic and any sense of human values or priorities]

20th - "Engulfed within his own paranoid ideations."  [Channel 5, Born To Kill: The Fred West Story]

Specific Grammar Supplement + Talking Bollocks

21st - "I believe a prison workforce are capable of pulling it off."  [Gordon Ramsay]

22nd - "How is it this question mark got raised?"  [BBC1 - raising marks rather than questions]

23rd - "It ended up okay at the end."  [Diving commentary - ending up in a mess]

24th - "The hospital have decided."  [Have it, indeed.  Narrator on 24hrs in A&E]

25th - "The band are celebrating their 50 years."  [Are it, now?  Radio 2 news report]

26th - "She's been successful on many backhand down the lines today."  [Tracy Austin, struggling with where to put an 's' to make something plural]

27th - "The amount of volume of water."  [David Coulthard talking shite, as ever]

28th - "Psychopathologicalness."  [Channel 5, Born To Kill: The Fred West Story]

29th - "There'll be highs of 22."  [TV weather forecast, giving a single high temperature]

...