Friday, September 29, 2006

Big Ron the Racist

I was just browsing through my good chum's blog Barry's Beef as part of my daily ritual (sad isn't it) and came across a YouTube clip of a rather spectacular football tackle to which I asked why don't they do that these days to which he mentioned that also at the time that ex-football pundit and racist scum pointed out that he said something very unpleasant about the Cameroon fans. The clip incidentally was from quite sometime ago. More recently Ron the Racist make a comment about a international football player over the radio which fro the UK was unheard as there was a commercial break but somewhere in the middle east (Saudi Arabia I think, Barry might fill in the details for me about the incident), led him to be sacked from commentating football. Good riddance to the old fool. Astonishing that he tried justifying his comments by saying that during the 70's he helped many a black player to football stardom. What was he trying to say? That it gives him licence to promote racism in football? Tosser. Anyway so as I thought we'd see the last of him, where does he appear tonight on TV? On a show called "The All Star Talent Show". Having read who appears on tonights show, I think it'll be worth watching the old fool made to look like one too. The star line up includes, Jeremy Beadle, Cheeky Girls, Tamara Beckwithe and Andi Peters (Myleene Klasse, what on earth are you doing on a show for tossers?).

Umm speaking of...

Just a quick thought. I don't know if any of you have trained in public speaking but I have and one of the most important lessons in public speaking is never to pause or hesitate unless to make a point. Tony Blair clearly over exercises this particular exception. Ever played that game where you have to talk for thirty seconds with "umming" or hesitating. The way to win that game was to talk absolute meaningless, bollocks for that length of time......which I'm sure some of you will be muttering under your breath, "but he does that all of the time". Thanks.


I'm having an old whinging man moment. Not that I'm that old but there are times where the little things f**king irritate me. One in particular is that commonly abuse phrase, "um". There is nothing more irritating or insincere about a person who during conversation utters the word "um" after every third word. There was a very serious topic of conversation about violent men in relationships on the Wright Stuff this morning. I have been a witness to a 'so called' friend who hit his long term partner during a drunken argument and frankly, I walloped him in return and told him plainly that I would punch his lights out if he ever did that to her again. I couldn't believe he would do such a thing. Its amazing and shocking when you realise that just when you think you might know someone, you don't at all. I feel sorry for her in that she won't leave him. Back to the story. So after a time where the panel discussed their opinions on the subject, follows a phone in. As you can imagine some pretty traumatic accounts of women being physically abused. Shocking. Unfortunately there was one caller who kept uttering that word "um" after every third or fourth word. I found myself getting more and more irritated rather than listen to her tragic tale which incidentally was a very bad case of abuse. Yes, I did listen. Just. Next time your hear someone abuse the word "um" used too frequently in conversation, see how irritating you might find it.

Hit PC Plod and get £100 ....

Shocking isn't it. Forgot to mention the other bit. That's get £100 fine. Its very disturbing to here that the policy on assault of a police officer has changed from a 6 month jail sentence to a £100 fine. Now is that a on the spot fine? Or does the accused have to stand in court to receive it? In which case it'll cost a lot lot more to the tax payer. Even so, the madness of it all. Are these people stupid or something. By having a £100 fine must surely mean that it undermines the ability of the authorities to be effective in policing. Not only that but if you have the likes of that Chav Lottery Winner, Michael Carol, who clearly has a deep seated loathing of the law would have a field day. Let work it out. If he had a million left in the bank and a copper at £100 each, that would amount to 10,000 of our finest boys in blue looking black and blue. So to the police officer. What incentive does he/she have to go out on the beat knowing that his or her life is only worth £100. Bollocks to that!! I have a friend of mine who's a copper and he has just started the job (2 years in'ish). I, along with the rest of his family and friends are quite proud of what he has achieved and I hope he doesn't stop because of something like this but I wouldn't blame him if he did. Shocking....

What on Earth?

I'm confused. What happened to the Hoff during the TV break? He'd sobered up. What on earth did they give him as a pick me up? Coffee? Red Bull? Lucozade? Cocaine? or all of the above. Very strange. Still all the more entertaining if that was the case.

What has happened to David Hasselhoff?

I had not planned to wake up this morning to GMTV's Entertainment Today's special guest star presenter; David Hasselhoff. But I did. What on earth has happened to the poor man? Its a shame I can't show you a clip. He has clearly walked on set absolutely hammered. It must be the tell tale glazed eyes, the slurred speech and he just can't keep up with the conversation. He's a man who clearly missed his auto cue a couple times along with his bottle of hooch. This performance is surely up there with Oliver Reed and George Best on Parkinson. Well okay perhaps not quite as extreme. It is 8.45am in the morning. I mean how much Jameson's mouthwash can one use at that time of the day? Better still, he's going to sing his new song too. What are the chances of him miming to it?

OK a bit of live commentary, he's chatting up Jennie Falconer on live TV and not letting her getting on with the programme. She's finally asked what he thinks of the new movie 'Click' and he goes on about his life story!!!! Brilliant! The man is Mr Ego in the funniest possible way. It seems like every question he's asked not about himself ends up being about himself. So what do GMTV do but bring out the heavy weight; Richard Arnold. Who you may ask? Exactly!

Despite the intoxicated state (allegdly) that he's in, as the true, out and out professional that is the Hoff, he manages to handle (in the end) the auto cue with style. Go Hoff!!!

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Barry and Cheriegate

I don't know what was in Barry Beef's drink last night but what a brilliant conversation. Not that I can remember too much of it.

Just a word Bazza, Cherie has no business in Tony's business. She gives the impression that Tony's not man enough to fight his own battles/demons. Hiding behind mummy's skirt. Awight son.

Down with Tony Blair and up with Caroline Lucas.

(actually this is a re-edit of the original post as upon reading it, it sounded like I had a touch of the old OCD. Oh and reading Bazza's article about Tony and Cherie, I revoke the above comment).

The Wright Stuff

Is the time for daytime TV as I have a few days off. So as I used to, I watched good old Matthew Wright on Five. One of the topics of conversation was about what would women prefer a "Rich Man or a Good Career?". Suprisingly the end poll ended about even. Bloody typical of a women eh. Want everything! For those who don't don't me. That was (very hastily typed in) a joke. More interestingly was the last caller. A man from Manchester who claimed that he was immensley wealthy and his girlfriend still worked. Matthew responded by asking him how much he was worth to which he replied he had £23 Million in the bank.

A couple of things to note.

1) Why is he watching 'The Wright Stuff'.
2) Anyone in their good mind wouldn't disclose that kind of information; especially if they are from Manchester.
3) The question was how much he was worth and not how much he had in the bank. Dunce!
4) He doesn't really have a girlfriend.
5) He doesn't really have £23 million in the bank or his worth.
6) He's probably like most of the Walter Mitties that watch the loan adverts between daytime TV and pretends that he's a millionaire in waiting.

I did say a couple of things didn't I. If you say points 1 to 3 in one sentence and 4 to 6, then those are my couple of points.

Interestingly, I have noticed how the word 'couple' in the context of 'a couple of minutes', is quite an abused word. When someone says 'a couple of days' for some, like myself, means literally two days. For others it means a small number of days, not less than two but no more than four. I know of a bloke at work who mentions what happened the night before, he refers to a whole nights session as having a couple of beers. Or an invitation for boozing would be, 'a couple of beers'. Or describing a technical problem that happened late at night, "the server went down and the network was playing up so I tried to do the best I could but I'd had a couple of beers so now nothing's working". Idiot.

Assume the Lotus Position

It started with a bizzare request from my little sister to diagnose a problem she had with uploading an mp3 track to her mp3 player. Being of the utmost professional, I diagnosed and provided a solution. My point being that upon listening to this mp3, which incidentally is a mediation sort of thing, I actually found better than rolling a big fat one. Highly recommended. Now where's my comission Sis? or friend of my Sis?

Monday, September 25, 2006

Fantastic Art

Or FART for short. I enjoy FART. It sets my mind (and my bowels) in motion when ever I view FART. My friend ImmenseSpace appreciates my FART as you may have seen in my previous blog entry. Earlier today while tidying up my bookmark of the usual kind of Consistently Rubbish Art Pieces (CRAP) that one accumulates over time I came across someone elses FART while is astoundly fantastic art (A FART). May I present Image Imagine. There are some genuinely creepy and odd FART.


For sale. Black and White cat. Female. Not GSOH. Answers to the name of Poo Girl although recently self-christened, Pee Girl. Doesn't like jumping and all things most normal cats do. Is very affectionate though. Reason for sale? Pee'd on my brand new phone. Any offers welcome.

F**king Cats

F**king Cats. I normally write blog entries first thing in the morning with a cup of tea sitting up in bed. So when it was finally time to get up and contribute something to the world I thought I'd find my mobile to give my mate a call to see what she was up to for the day as she has a week off too. And what do I find? My mobile phone on the foot rest, in a puddle of cat pee!!!!! My new'ish phone too. Never have I felt so pissed off in such a long while. Be gone filthy feline!!!! As cat pee contains ammonia and uric acid, I have absolutely no hope whatsoever of recovering it. It was Poo Girl!! Does gender have any relevance in this matter? Not normally but right now yes!!!!Thankfully I've managed to salvage the SIM card but any contacts on the phone have long disappeared. So to those that I knew, Adieu! So Long! Nice knowing you.....

Non Allergic Pussy

Well I never!!! Scientist have bred a type of cat that doesn't cause an allergic reaction in humans. Hurrah. Now we can all have one of these cute little animals running around. I for one am a cat lover. I have two with very distinctive personalities. Poo Girl and Sick Boy (as they are known on the interweb). Wonderful creatures they are. So for the perecntage of the population that can now have one too, how much does it cost to buy one? Just over two thousand pounds. My moggies in contrast cost me next to nothing incomparison. Anyway, cost is nothing when you have such great companions.

Did anyone ever mention that although the scientists have bred out the allergic reaction it still doesn't stop them from ripping clothes and furniture, coughing up hairballs and pooping occassionally where they shouldn't????

BBC article here.

Sunday, September 24, 2006


My good friend Immense Space appreciates the wonders of angels and fairys so I thought I'd mention an atypical feel good Sunday afternoon movie I finished watching a few moments earlier about a smoking, drinking angel. I have absolutely no idea what the film was about as it was background TV. There came a couple of moments where I did almost shed a tear. You know, you can feel it well up inside but the sensible part of you says its only a movie but then, just a little droplet appears out of the corner of your eye. That moment was when the dog got hit by a truck and the angel had to bring him back to life. Que dramatic music for hope and belief and voila! Sparky (the dog) lives!!!! Hooray!!! If no-one has guessed which movie I'm talking about then its "Michael" with Mr All Dancing If Slightly Chubby John Travolta; incidently doing pretty much the same sort of dance moves in Saturday Night Fever. I did mention one other moment of emotion, and that was when he died, not the dog, the angel.

In the name of Health and Fitness

I am waking up this morning with my left elbow in some considerable pain. Why might you ask? Its not because I did press ups. Not because of the bicep curls. Not because of the shoulder or leg presses. No. No. No. It was from carrying my bike after cycling three (level'ish) miles up one flight of steps! Yes one flight of steps. The only benefit I can see from this this is that bending elbow to a point is so painful that if I were tempted by a beer, it wouldn't reach my mouth. You may say that I still have the use of the other arm but I consider it a reminder for me not to grab that can of Kronenburg. At least I can still wipe my .............

Saturday, September 23, 2006

Medical Care

Just brilliant. If I was as stupid as some people would like to believe or indeed I thought people were as stupid as they are then they would interpret a BBC headline:

"Healthy LunchBox Advice Offered".

For those who don't know why I find this line amusing. Its a euphemism for a man's wedding tackle/meat and two veg/twig and berries (for some)/The family Jewels/plenipotentiary instrument/turkey neck and gizzards.

Clicking on the link though show's that it has absolutely nothing to do with a man's sexual wellbeing but educational/health advice for kids's meals at lunch time.

Pause for Thought

Good Morning. I have had probably one of the most satisfying nights sleep in years. No. I didn't go out on the pull last night and pick up some lady. I'm talking about a couple of days without booze and fags doing wonders for my well being. Waking up happy and positive.

There was something that occured to me yesterday through some slightly difficult moments while resisting the urge to smoke or go for a drink. That was this. On average a man lives until about 79 years old (here in the UK). That's 28835 days. I have lived 11680 of those so far. I still have 17155 left. If I go by this average figure. With the life I had lived so far, it has been quite a thoughtless one. One day rolls into the next without any care or thought about what I am doing to myself or even for myself. I didn't particularly care about how much I was drinking or smoking until the following morning where I would cough and splutter like an old man and then continue the same routine later on the day. What I ate would amount to the same kind of shit that a pig would eat. I'm not about to preach just because I have seen what I have done to be so senseless as people should find out for themselves. So the moment came when doing this counting my days exercise that I thought, hang on a minute what if I set aside just 3 days of total commitment. No preparation. No reserving of 3 special days out in the country or away on holiday or locked in a padded room. Just that day, I decided to do it. No getting rid of ashtrays etc or the can of beer sitting in my fridge. Just do it. After all I'm always going to be surrounded by that sort of thing.

So here I am. Day 3. Lets see how I go.

Oh. One more thing. Some of you might be thinking, "what's the point in doing it for just three days?". Its three days that are the hardest. I read it somewhere. That's really up to me to find out now isn't?

Friday, September 22, 2006

Booze, Fags and Fitness

I mentioned the concept of getting fit. Working off that poundage around my mid portion. Is this what every thirty something thinks of? I can't recall ever, ever wanting to do that in my twenties but then again I was very much on the skinny side. A little too much for my liking but plenty of beer and late night junk food put that right. Too right. I'm in danger of doing completely the opposite by suggesting that I am taking my first tentative steps to stopping smoking. Just about two days and counting. Without forgetting to mention that I haven't drunk alchohol in as many days too. Already I am starting to understand that what I am feeling is not the anxiety of denying myself these pleasures but my bodys first realisation that it feels better and this is what it was like many years ago. To be without all the crap that continually dulled my senses. I am a little concerned that to maintain this way of life, at least for the first few months that I will need to shun the very friends that I would meet in smoky pubs. As long as I can keep up this healthy life style I'll be happy. I'll also be happy if they too can provide me with some of the support I might need should I feel tempted to do either of the two. I hope you understand Blarney (aka Pickle) and the Fox and my mate D.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Crappy movies and even crappier sci-fi movies

I spent a few moments just before writing this article about the number of women I may possibly offend. Then I thought this isn't about gender just about directors who don't know how to make great or even entertaining sci-fi films with the lead character being female. This afternoon I spent the best part of ninety or so minutes watching some of the worse type of sci-fi in a while. The actual worst still belongs to Battlefield 3000 which has a male lead character. Which I suppose is the only time a woman would actually agree in that context. The film I have been watching is "Ultraviolet". What a load of rubbish. There is no point explaining what the film is about except there are Vampires that they choose initially not to call a vampire but something scientific, a family tragedy, a barmy twist and too much testosterone in the lead female character. Milla Jovovich stars as the hero of the story. Frankly she was only ever great in on movie and that ws the Fifth Element. There's a moment where there is a standoff between the good gal and bad guy in which as she faces hundreds of bad guys, the main bad bloke says "Are you mental?". Would they honestly such a thing in the future? What a load of crap. Oh and a boy that just goes a little too far in the way of saying such wise words to the heroine. Utter rubbish. Another scene where a helicopter hovers above the dying boy and he says whats that sound to which she says its just the wind???!!!!! Since when?????? Utter tripe. Do I care whether she lives or dies? Nope. Finally, as for the acting. There was only one kind of acting that Milla Jovovich was good for and that was the ditzy character in the Fifth Element. Every other type of sci-fi she has starred in has not really worked. She just cannot act. Try the Resident Evil films. Same expression and same mannerism. She should've stuck to her day job. Before you ask; as a model.

That time of the Year

So it is with great joy and happiness that I take a moment to mention by once a year bike the local grocery shop about a half mile down the road and back again. To put things in context and make a little more sense. I would like to believe myself to be the reluctant keep fit fanatic. As a younger person I spent most of my spare time keeping fit, either going on hugely long cycle rides, at the gym, playing badminton etc.... Getting on that bike was great. The trouble with the part of London that I live in is that most cyclists take their life in their own pedals. Lets see if I can make cycling more than just a once a year event.....

Saturday, September 16, 2006

Where on Earth....

What a night last night. I managed to virtually defy science and common sense last night with a series of spectacularly embarrassing feats starting with the most variety of drinks that I have ever had. Let me see if I can remember. Lager, red wine, tequila, something green, vodka, gin. How on earth did I manage to do that? I sit on my bed comprehensively hungover pondering what could have been. The night started off well with a beer with my friend Blarney who had been going through some grief at work so we hooked up for a chin wag. Later, I went for a "supposed to be" quick drink with my old boss who wouldn't stop talking about his sexual conquests. Quite depressing considering my circumstances and the fact that he has several on the go. As I was finishing off my glass of wine, my work colleague stopped for a quick drink and offered me a glass of wine which of course I had. Then I hooked up with some other work mates and so off we went to another pub. A quick one there and then off to somewhere in North London. A swanky club of sorts where the celebs hangout. I seem to remember seeing Jimmy Mistry (The bloke from East is East) and Sadie Frost (Jude Law's ex). I'm sure there were plenty more but my vision wasn't up to scratch at that point. I also seem to remember a pretty woman who I talked to for a while but by that stage I was well and truly gone. The last thing I remember was staggering around mumbling down the phone to my ex girlfriend. I wasn't talking english I don't think. I was talking beerglish. So I apologise to her. Is this what singledom amounts to? During the process of drinking, everything seems to be reasonable and justified. Post drinking brings along kebab and chips followed by the passing out ceremony. The morning after is an exercise in self regret and recollections of cringe worthy moments. Another night that I totally ruined for myself. Maybe I should actually follow the advice of my good friends and that is to stop boozing, stop smoking and start getting fit rather than behaving like a right plank.

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Its not what you think.....Honestly.

I found this old bookmark that I originally got from an old university friend of mine.


Pointless Evening

Yesterday like any day. Wake up, feel awful. Do the three S's. For those who don't know. A shit, a shower and a shave. Actually make that two. Shaving is an occasional thing. Get to train station hoping attactive woman is also there. Get to work. Have a dose of coffee and a bottle of Lucozade. Have lunch and work some more. Look forward to finishing work for the day and contemplate what to do with my time afterwards.

I've been a little better of late of resisting the temptation of visiting the local public house for a pint or two. Yesterday however was one of those days where the auto pilot within magically took me to the bar. I order my pint with the intention of leaving soon after that. Instead I struck up a conversation with the barman which meant a few more pints. Smiled at an attractive lady with the thought that she might be interested. Clearly not had enough booze to have the courage to strike up a conversation. A friend came to the bar and we had a conversation, by this time I was running on alchohol. Decided to have a swift drink (by this time had a little too much) at another pub. Realised how pissed I was and not in a fit state to take public transport home, my friend flagged down a cab and poured me into it (to which I am grateful). Grabbed a kebab on the way home and attempted to eat it. Polished off some wine and fell asleep. Woke up this morning and for the first time in a while I realised how extremely pointless it was to have got so drunk and to which I wondered what positive effect drinking so much had on me. The consequence of the previous nights boozing left me in a delicate state so I pursued a cocktail of coffee and lucozade. The thing that got me was ,as I boarded the lift to get to the cafeteria I cursed as the lift stopped one floor down, and in came a rather attractive, mature lady who was extremely friendly. Normally I wouldn't have a problem initiating some flirtation but I felt about as useful as a a fart in a spacesuit. As the day progressed the hangover took its time to disapate. Far too long for my liking. Then I recieved an email from a lady friend who I suspect clearly has the hots for me who invited me for a drink. The brain just couldn't cope anymore. I need to politely put that off for another day. In all honesty I think that relationships in the work place don't work. It wouldn't for me.

A challenge to the bloke who wrote in earlier about dating

Okay Mister dating advisor. I've got one for you. As my recent status as the single man, I have like all single men the idea of dating an attractive lady. Picture this scenario. I wait every morning like so many others at the train station for the train to work. A fine looking lady has recently caught my eye. Obviously I have no idea whether she's married or partnered with someone or single. Instinct says she might be single. So everyday I contemplate the approach to striking up a conversation. But how on earth does one attempt light flirtation with the goal to asking her out on a date? A little while back I went to a friends monthly get together (a party for the intellectuals I think) where I struck up a conversation with a nice person. Exercising my charm and wit I got along with her rather well. At the end of the night I volunteered to make sure she got on the train home safely. At some point of the conversation she commented that I might be a "player" which to me was a leftfield complement. I have never ever been called a player. Somethings just come later in life for some. Anyway, to put you in the picture I think I am reasonably good at charming certain types of the opposite sex. The challenge in this particular scenario is chatting up a complete stranger at 8.45 in the morning which to be completely honest is a little difficult as most people are rather looking forward to a cup of coffee to wake them up than to get chatted up by a stranger. So Mr dating advisor, I put that one on you......

Stupidity and other irritations

Lets get one thing straight. I have in the past done and said some pretty stupid things so with that statement I'd put that down to human nature. Indeed as someone once said, to err is to be human. Actually I have no idea who said that. The other day I went to my local pet store (of dubious practices) and patiently waited for service. There was a pregnant lady (not that it is of any consequence to this story) who was enquiring about kittens.

Stupid remark number one from the customer: "Yeah how much are those kittens? Do they catch mice at that age? I don't like mice. There's one in my house and I need a cat to kill it."

Returning stupid remark from the shop assistant showed no awareness about what the customer had just said and continued talking about what she would need to buy for the kitten.

I was absolutely gobsmacked! It was only the pregnant lady's friend that inject sheer commonsense to the half witted customer that perhaps that shouldn't be the only reason to by a kitten. Even at this point the shop assistant didn't even agree. I was quietly furious. I have been thinking of purchasing my pet food for my cats and fish elsewhere ever since. What a callous attitude towards selling animals responsibly. It still winds me up thinking about it. Come to think of it, Doctors actually advise against pregnant women living in close proximity to cats as a bacterial infection from a scratch could seriously harm the baby. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.


I came home this evening and as per usual check my email hoping to hear from someone interesting. Instead I got an email from some bloke who "read" my blog. "Cool" I thought. Some has taken the time to read it. And quite a nice complement to have been told that he'd booked my blogsite. He even recommended looking at his own. All about internet dating. I smelt something suspicious in his apparently sincere email. Of course I took the time to read a snippet of his blog; which read like a bloody advertising feature for dating. This advise is free and to anyone who wishes to read it then be my guest but I won't bother putting a link or a mention on my site as I don't wish to line someone elses pockets......On the other hand I could be wrong and I will apologise. I think the former is likely. Thanks for the complement though and if whoever you are wishes to put something a little more personalised rather than a lot of self help techniques which to me sound like someone elses work than you own then perhaps I might re-visit your site.

Saturday, September 09, 2006

Getting a little older

Found my first grey chest hair this morning. How depressing.

My friend the Policeman

Its funny how things turn out. I sent an SMS to an old friend of mine who I haven't seen in a while to catch up on the past, present and future. We met at school when we were about twelve/thirteen years old I think and remained the best of friends until about the time I headed off to university where we still stayed in contact; I even became Godfather to his daughter. But as time moved on and obligations like girlfriends, career and ambition took over we saw less of each other until one of us or both had lost contact details. Years went by and I ocassionally wondered what he might be up to. Then thanks to modern technology and a a certain website called Friends Re-united, I found an message from him in my mailbox.

Fast forward to the near present.

After eight years of being out of contact, we met for a couple of beers in Chav city (Croydon). That was great. Nothing really changed apart from a slightly expanded waist and some bad habits (smoking). At the time he was training to be a policeman, which now that I think about it was probably the right move for him. He always had that 'strong arm of the law' about him.

Two years passed. I split up with my lady and all of a sudden there was room in my mind to think about all the people I hadn't seen in a while and the first person I could think of was my friend the policeman. We arranged to meet for a few beers yesterday. Just like old times. Really good fun and great to know that he passed his training and became a proper policeman. There was a sense of pride when I introduced my friend to some of my other friends at the local drinking establishment. Good on you mate!

Thursday, September 07, 2006

My Best Friends Wedding

No not the film. Please! I'm talking about a lovely friend of mine who's getting married at the end of this year. She and I had lunch today and we talked about Hen nights and Stag nights. I'm going to her fiance's stag night which is guaranteed to be a laugh and a half. Having said that she did invite me to her Hen's night out which if I was gay that it would be another matter. Given that they are planning to go to pole dancing lessons I should have taken up the offer. All those women swivelling their hips and shaking their......

The poor lass however near as damned asked me to convince her beloved one not to go to a strip club. Considering where it is we are going, I am certain that may not be on the cards. I've had other mates girlfriends/wifes to be saying pretty much the same thing. Why is that? Traditionally the whole point of a stag night is to keep the future missus guessing how there mates are going to lead him astray! I happened to mention to her that it was his final night as a single man which clearly was not the right thing to say. The thing is, these things never amount to a final night of debauchery. More like a bunch of friends making sure the groom doesn't choke to death on his own vomit. Getting arrest by the police is okay though. :-)

So to my dear lady friend, don't worry. He has only one thing on his mind and that is you.


Just before I embraced being single again, a friend of mine warned me against the pitfalls of being single. I found that bit of advice a little tactless to say the least and a reflection on his own circumstances. Unlike his predicament, my ex-girlfriend and I ended on good terms. Well as good as it gets considering the circumstances. The comment did however do its job. It made me think about it. Something that clearly didn't warrant too much thought initially but as time has come to pass, he might have been partly right. Of course people feel this way when they are alone. I think it was more a way of suggesting something about the kind of person I am. For the people that know me, I am a sociable person. I think it was the sociable person inside me that probably caused problems in the first place. Now that the life is that is singledom, I find it quite fulfilling. More time to reflect, more time to pursue women.....I'm only joking. Sometimes things just don't work out. That's it. No more explaining to do.

There are people in this world that can spend an eternity wondering why. Why? Every failed relationship (if that is the most important thing in ones life) is part of a learning process. It teaches people more about themselves than about others. Some people take an age to find out who they really are and what they really want. I have some friends that have resigned themselves to be single for the rest of their lives. Once upon a time I found that really strange. Why would anyone be happy to be single for the rest of their lives? Then I asked the question, what satisfies them so much so that there isn't any need or any room for anyone else? (Masturbation or a dildo. Only joking). Companionship. Its sounds like something an old person (i.e. over 60) would say. You may gasp in shock and horror at the last comment and so for anyone older than 60 reading this blog, I do apologise. I will look back at my blog in years to come and probably regret saying that. I think the essence of a relationship is not just about the initial physical attraction (am I stating the obvious?) but about feeling some satisfaction of knowing ones self and being happy about it that makes a relationship work. Everything else falls into place. They say that being in your thirties are one of the best times of your life. Indeed there are forty/fifty and beyond, something year olds that can say the same. Does this sound like the rantings of a thirty something year old with an optimistic look on life? Perhaps. But then again, I've always been optimistic.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Blair today, gone tomorrow

So it starts. First it was just the one. Tom (the peoples politician and the one with the tasty missus) Watson handing in his notice. Now five more. At this rate we should have the majority of government ministers handing in their resignation letters with giving Mr Blair a chance to utter the words, in the style of Alan Sugar "YOU'RE FIRED!!!".

Saturday, September 02, 2006

Boxing part 2

Bloody hell, I'd only just finished typing the last entry and the match was already over. It took Amir Khan about one minute and fifty one seconds to demolish him. Money's worth? No. A supreme fighter? Possibly. Most likely. Better than Nasim Hamed? Most definitely. One has to ask a question. Are all the fighters that are put his way just Hoodies or juvenile criminals trying to go straight? I want to give Khan credit for his talents as a boxer. All I'll say is lets see. I think a few more long distance fights under his belt and a good title fight will see him written in history....unlike Nasim Hamed who's poseur mentality destroyed his career against Barrera.

One more thing. He wasn't set for eight rounds. This is his last six rounder. Next time its a nine.

Ok. Testosterone blog entry over.


I'm a fan of boxing and Saturday evening was boxing night. Clinton Woods and Glyn Johnson's light heavy weight match was absolute classic boxing. Unfortunately I missed some of the game because I was watching a DVD. I saw the latter half and what a match! Technically not the best but just like playing a boxing game on the Xbox, an out and out pummelling. I thought round eight Johnson had it. A couple of right hooks followed by some well planted lefts left the champion Woods at the point of no return. From nine onwards Woods had it. Class. Calzaghe for the next one. Can't wait. Lets hope Amir Khan delivers in his usual lightening style. Just don't do a Hamed eh? He's fighting Ryan Barrett from Thamesmead. Barrett reckons like so many others that he's going to win. Really. We'll see. Having said that he is a southpaw so there's are fair chance he could do some damage. Amir's first fight to nine rounds. I'll update after the match........

Friday, September 01, 2006

Out for a Duck

The local shop keeper Mr Shah has been trying to get me to go to this bar with a heavy indian theme to it. Now for the people who know me I am reasonably far removed from indian culture and society with the irony that I am from indian origin. I have had comments such from foolish people saying "you're more white than asian". Bloody idiot. But then again this particular individual was a bit little mutton dressed up as lamb. I.e. a racist bigot who thought as long as he had an asian friend, he could say that he wasn't racist. How stupid is that. He'd say that he doesn't hate indians, just all other races. Idiot.

Anyway, back to the point of this article. So yesterday afternoon I went down to my local paper shop to buy a bus pass for the day to get a super duper filter for my tropical fish tank (it really is super duper!) and Mr Shah mentioned my missus, who unfortunately is now ex-missus (missus can also be a term for long term partner, not necessarily married for those who don't know the term), to which I replied that we were no longer an item. Seeing that I was in need of cheering up (which I wasn't actually, I was in a hurry to get the super duper filter) he mentioned this bar again. Now this bar is a four minute walk away from my house. A real local pub/bar. But as I mentioned before, I tend to shy away from indian cultural events if I can help it. However I'm always the optimist and will always give things another go, and I must admit I was feeling rather sorry for myself. So I agreed to meet him and his mates at an agreed time. I installed the filter and watched it filt with much glee. Certainly the Piranha were much happier. Time ticked away until the 8.15pm time we agreed arrived. So with leadened legs (I felt quite reluctant to go) and a choice between staying at home miserable and enjoying some unfamiliar company, I went. Nothing really suprised me to be honest. It was what I expected. Sitting with a bunch of people that I didn't know, and I'm the sort of person that can mingle quite easily, who I couldn't really converse with. It didn't help that they were all playing an indian version of trumps. So I glugged on my pint, made some small talk, listened to the live band. As I sat there in relative isolation I began to realise something about me. For example about fishkeeping. Piranha, especially Red Bellied Piranha are one of a few species that need to be kept in shoals for safety in numbers but also because it is there natural instinct to do so. In the same way that I too prefer the company of others rather than prolonged periods of solitude. Perhaps that'll change over time.

Later during the night as the possibility of conversation was getting more and more less likely I managed to end up having a game of pool with another strange group of people. Strange not in the weird sense but strangers. I'd consider myself a averagely good player and fancied my chances to whip ass. But how wrong I was. 3-0 down and two pints up, I got into my rythmn and came back to 3-3. He decided to call it a night. So I sat back down and pretty much well did nothing but drink. By this time I was starting to feel a little woosy. So to finish me off I took a vodkka and tonic before waving everyone fairwell and suggesting that I would turn up the following night. They probably shuddered at the thought as I exited the door. I walked home in my version of a straight line and rather than stop off for an unhealthy kebab, I thought I'd eat something at home.

Clearly having to much of the hooch damaged my sense of rational thinking as there was one food item that I was bannned from ever cooking. Not eating but cooking while my dear ex-beloved was with me. A certain indian delicacy by the name of Bombay Duck. Not a duck but a fish, living off the west coast of india usually along shipping lanes and docks feeding off all the crap put into the sea, rather like prawns. These are dried and cured in the hot baking heat of the indian sun and packed off to Blighty. Here until recently it was banned for apparently health reasons. No the actual truth behind it was of the side effects of frying/grilling it. The smell. What a smell!! It was all the rage in 70's Britain. Most Indian restaurants would do it much to the dismay of local residents. Don't get me wrong, it is an aquired taste and just like marmite, you either love it or hate it. I happen to love it. They sell Bombay Duck in limited quantities in this country again to the ban being lifted. I think a politician had something to do with. He'll get my vote next time (what even if he is a member of the BNP I hear you cry? Not likely eh!). I got my supply from Southampton about three years ago. My god you gasp, how on earth could it possibly be edible you might ask? Especially when you consider that it has remained this way for that long in but only a plastic bag. So with 2Dart's boozy wisdom, I put it under the grill, staggered to the toilet, made a mumbling call to the ex and then munched down the bombay duck.

Think of a moderately bad hangover and add the most pungent smell you can think of (if you have never smelt Bombay Duck being cooked) and you are in exactly the same position as I was this morning. To top it off, I seem to remember crunching away at it while wandering around in the bedroom! Whoah! The stench was unbelievable. So earlier this morning it was extreme incense burning with my favorite smell, Opium. Don't worry its not the real deal, its a bit like beef flavoured crisps, there's not really any beef in them.

Don't attempt to cook Bombay Duck when drunk, or at anytime, ever at home.

p.s. further research concludes that it was indeed a business man and not an MP who had the EU ban lifted on the import of the fish in question. Mr David Delany, I thank you.

Making someone feel better

I'd just like to make a quick mention about a friend of mine who has been down in the dumps recently. The most miraculous thing is that she took some advice from me and it worked. I'll tell you something, that normally doesn't happen, someone listening and acting on my advice that is.

At least I have been of some help. So thank know who you are.

A Bush in the Hand is worth two in the Bird

I woke up to the silliest arguement on the news today about a certain TV dramatisation of George W. Bush being assassinated in 2007 during an anti-war rally. It was said by some to be irresponsible. How? For one, I cannot see how Doublya could ever attend or address and anti-war rally. Come on. The man believes he knows what he is doing! Secondly the article states that it may prompt people to carry out an assassination on him. What!!??!! How come I didn't think of that? Wow! Can you imagine all those would be assassins with that thought dawning on them. This programme could be used for educational purposes.

A Typical Scenario

Assassin flicking on the news to a newsreader with a nasally voice

Newsreader: "Today, UK TV channel More4 have been highly criticised and called irresponsible for televising a dramatised mooovie about our President George doublya Bush being assassinated in an anti-war march rally in Chicago 2007. It has been widely condemned by many of his ally (deliberate) Tony Blair and a few other less interesting leaders."

Assassin(1) to other assassin(2): "Jheezesus Bob, will yah check thad oud. Ya know we aint had no jaaaabss recentleeee. Whada great idea."

assassin(2): "Whaddya mean Toniee? That'll nev-voi woirk!"

assassin(1): "Why Bob?"

assassin(2): "What day is it Toniee?"

assassin(1): "Err da foist of September"

assassin(2): "Exactly. Der pullin yoir leg! Its like April fools day but in da Fall"

assassin(1): "Ah oh, okay Bob"

The telephone rings and Tony picks up the phone and listens to the person speaking and puts the phone down again.

assassin(1): "I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT. IT KNEW ALL ALONG!!! Hey Bob. Dat was da Boss. He says we gadda do a hit on the president. I knew it was a good idea."

assassin(2): "Okay, okay Toniee. Calm down. When is this programme on? We gadda learn some stuff off of dat."

The truth of it all is that isn't blindingly obviously that the man (as much as I think is a twat) is constantly under threat from a would be assassination. If anything, fine programmes such as '24' have as much 'damaging potential' as the next film/drama about the assassination of a president. Come to think of it. They should have banned Microsoft's Flight Simulator as it was believed that the suicide hijackers of the planes that hit the WTC and Pentagon used it to train.

Just one more thing. I've realised that my title sounds a little rude. If its doesn't then thats okay. I know of a certain Barrys Beef who would.