Brighton Part II

Great weekend. Especially for the groom. I made lots of friends that weekend and got to know much more about myself. I hope the bride had as much fun considering that she is also one of my best friends too. I usually tend to have nicknames for all the people that I mention in my blog and because she is just my **** (not a rude word I'll have you know), I'll give her a temporary nickname; Sweetie. That is until she approves or disapproves. So I hope Sweetie has had a very enjoyable hen night as much as Charlie Brown (Groom). Or should I say "Big Nut". I can't wait for the wedding. It'll be a moment to remember.

Brighton Part I

My social circle expanded by about seven at least. I will briefly describe the scenario. Beer, fags, shooting and quad biking, strip club and club.....in Brighton. One new found friend in particular said something that clearly escaped my attention about the hippies of Brighton. He described them as middle class hippies. A good observation. What do modern day hippies do? Where did they come from? What happens after the thrill of it passes over? Being a hippy is in a traditional sense, is about being at odds with the commercial way of life. Breaking away from middle-class'ism. But middle class suggests a standard or way of life which tries to a little bit working class and to appease the upper class. So basically an arse licker with no character whatsoever. This observation is not an opinion that I've just pulled out of the hat. No. This is by example of a few people I know. Those people who try far too hard to be both posh and earthy at the same time.....very, very badly. I know of a person who I used to work with that is a shining example of middle-class'ism. Guaranteed to be so predictable to have a suitable accent depending on the company kept. If its a working class group then a cockney accent it is. Further up the chain the posher the accent becomes..........I shall continue tomorrow as frankly the weekend has caught up with me. 2Darts signing off...

Women.

After the last post I'm inclined to stop all female contact. For now. Perhaps's its because i'm in this current, beautiful women everywhere, maelstrom. Would I have found certain people attractive then when I was in a relationship? Yes. Can I justify what I think of them now? Not at all. Because all kind of reason has left me in this hellish place I call Singledom. Is there a Bridget Jones equivilent for a man? Perhaps I'm taking the first tentative steps towards being one. How depressing. And just to feel completely sorry for myself, I announce that nothing will happen this evening. I won't meet anyone. Or even cop a snog. Oh woe Singledom. Oh you silly man you might say. This isn't what its all about. But try telling that to someone who hasn't had a shag in a while! Only kidding. I guess I'm just not cut out being single. A serial relationship'ist perhaps. I don't know.

My most used phrase

Oh dear. Not again.

To top it off this time while having a sensible drink with some pals of mine, who walks into the pub but none other than my two sexy mates, Pickle and Foxy. Not expected and further more Pickle I thought deliberately ignored me. Like I said, so I thought. The reason for this? I won't tell but not to put too fine a point on it, the last time I saw her I ended up having a heated discussion about something. That's as far as it goes.

So I wasn't ignored as such but neither was I spoken to for much of the night. So feeling a little like an unloved dog (queue sad music) I resumed my typical sociable ettiquette by mingling. Its what I do best. Oh and drink a lot of booze. Last night especially a lot of booze. Why? I have a stag party to go to today and I have a hangover. Because of Pickle. I know its not fair to blame someone for ones troubles but if that person is the trouble then that could be just enough cause. I will tell you why in a moment how all of what I am saying makes for a load of old rubbish.

I sat cornered in a busy bar as Pickle and Foxy walked in. It took them a while to register that I was there even all the while I tried to catch Pickles eye. I pondered why for a short while before a prompted hello was greeted. The raced on and the more drunk I got. Then by some miracle I was invited by my two friends Pickle and Foxy) to a rather posh dinner party on the Terrace of the House of Lords. Pickle and Foxy looked simply stunning. In fact a special mention to Pickle as clearly she has no idea how beautiful she is, amazing. I've seen Pickle looking like someone you could only dream of but this time around she look so amazingly stunning that a word hasn't been invented for her yet. As always the unwelcomed guest, and especially when wearing jeans and a denim shirt while others were not, I sipped champagne with the best of them. I certainly got a few funny looks as I made my entrance. As I sipped more champagne and trying very hard to remember that Pickle was my friend and not to be attracted to, I was approached by a woman from Austria/Germany or somewhere from near that part of europe. I have no idea what we were talking about as most of the time as it was Pickle that kept all of my attention. I have no idea where Foxy got to. Clearly hunting some chickens. The lady I spoke to was rather attractive for someone knocking on the door of about late forties. But I felt very out of place for this party so I made my excuse and left. As I walked back to the normality of the Sport and Social (my local drinking establishment) I ponder in the sense of it all. It was kind to have been invited and were I more appropriately dressed I would have enjoyed the occassion more. As it was I looked like a relative tramp compared to all the other people.

The absolute highlight of the night was close to the end of my ability to look sober after a copious amount of the booze. While back in the pub chatting to random persons, I noticed the whole of the party of people that I previously encountered entering en masse. Enter the beautiful Pickle and Foxy. Enter attractive older lady. What happened next was just plain horror and embarrassment and a touch of strangeness. Attractive lady walks up towards me (why does that always happen?) Something was said and the next thing, we kissed and not in the friendly kind of way. I don't know who was confused first but clearly it wasn't the right thing to do. More importantly was a vision that will haunt me for a long long time. It was Pickle's expression as I broke away from said attractive older lady. There were only a few ways I could've interpretted it. Disappointment, shock, a little hurt perhaps? I don't know. But there is something about that expression that gives me a really bad feeling in my heart. I suppose a little like cheating on someone but being caught. Horrible. Terrible. I could try to justify it by suggesting that pre-married Pickle was just about the flirtiest woman alive and had every living man wrapped around her finger as probably can now if she wanted so that she should know better than to pass judgment on me but I can't say that. As my actions were just plain idiotic and suffice to say I took the opportunity to ask a friend to escort me to the nearest cab.

So resultss for the evening. Good chatter with friends. Helpful advice on surviving single life. Annoyance with attractive friend. Flirtation leading to disaster. Help getting a cab by friend. Kebab. Home. Hangover.

Oh dear. Not again.

Stag night in Brighton.

My mate is having a stag night on Saturday where the itinerary is how shall I put it, covers all things blokeyness. Shooting, racing, boozing. Brilliant!

I shall report on the proceedings and after effects sometime after that. I anticipate that it'll be a great one and also probably my best Saturday night out all year.

I did however had to arrange more practical things like someone to look after the cats, so thanks Mum and Dad for doing it. I'd also like to thank my fans and my confidants, my neighbours and my.....God it sounds like a final word before I depart.....I have no idea what the night involves but if you hear from me some time next week then I'll have made it back in one piece.

Stag Night

The last time I went to a stag night I got invited by a friend who knew of a friend's friend who was celebrating his last night as a single person. We arrived as he was pretty much bollocks'ed. The trick was to arrive at his home en masse ready to pin him down and put a load of immac (or what ever its called these days) on his nether regions. Why I found that amusing then I don't know. Anyway as we were waiting for his best man to deliver him to his doom, one of his mates mentioned that he collects weapons of old. Swords, knives, you get my point. At this point working out the maths, pissed bloke+loads of bloke ready to pin him down+immac+stranger (me)=very dangerous place to be. So with that the moment arrives and down the floor he goes while reciting every kind of expletive known to man. Whilst participating in this apparent jovial male bonding (you've got to be kidding), as he continued spitting blood, he said out aloud, "that bloke in the red shirt, he's a dead man!!" Me!! As he took a swing for me as one chap lost his grip on his arm, I smartly or instinctively moved and he ended up lamping his best man! How cool was that! After hearing his screams as he got into the shower I decided to stand outside ready to run anticipating a huge sword of a thing possibly penetrating parts of a man that can only be described as a violation. Twas not the case however and how we laughed and joked afterwards. To tell the truth, it still gives me a cold shiver of what could have happened.

Snooker Part Deux

To the left of the picture is the fittest snooker referee. Ever. Michaela Tabb. Don't know who the odd looking chap is though. More of that in the sport please!

Snooker

I like playing the game and watching the game. So we are at the quarter finals of the Grand Prix. Just watching the snippets of today's play and I noticed Stephen Lee sizable bulk. Is it me or has he turned into the human ball. I know how dedicated these players are to the art of snooker but this is going a little too far. If he holds his breath for long enough his opponent may end up potting him instead!

A quick Joke...

A bloke from Yorkshire has found a new way to take Exstacy.....

E by gum.

Ta Daaaa!!!!

Oh Dear

It was great to spar with my chum Barry's Beef yesterday in preparation for a darts match, not mine , his. Its a little difficult to gauge how good one is when playing constantly with the same person over and over again. Don't get me wrong, my darts partner and I put in some serious practice time for the eventual final next Thursday evening. There seems to be more satisfaction when beating someone you rarely play with. The end score was 2-2. A pleasant result for two left handers with completely unique throwing styles.

The night wears on and Pickle made an appearance. I like Pickle a lot and think the world of her but last night I don't know what got into my head but I was feeling a little frustrated with some of the things that were being said. Pickle is famously nosey and has a knack for remembering the most startling amounts of detail of conversations years ago. If she wasn't so beautiful I'd call her an elephant. Ah and I'll come back to my last comment. Amazingly these talents amount to what could be a prosperous career in journalism. Even more interesting as it dawned on me last night that relative to erm relative, while I have divulged in some intimate conversations about myself, Pickle has the knack of saying absolutely nothing about herself. There a couple of times where I've injected a conversation starter and it only amounts to a three word response sometimes. A true sign of a journo or possibly a dodgy italian politician. Speaking of italians, her mate desccribed her as having an italian look about her. I personally can't see it. So she asked what I thought her theme was. So I said irish. She asked why to which I said she had irish eyes. I can just see her now at home in front of a mirror checking out her eyes. Yes you are.

Oh yes, the most infuriating thing of all is describing her as beautiful. She is stunnning. This not just my opinion, this has been commented to me by every single male friend of mine bar none. Even complete strangers enquire about her to the point where I could wear a placard for everytime I get asked the same questions to which there are the same answers. "No" and "Mate" and "Married". It is a little wearing as it is a little dishearting saying that. I digress. So with my complement to Pickle I find it even more stunning to find that she describes her self as ugly. Not even taking the piss either. I said "you've got to be joking". And as sincere as day, she actually thinks that. How on earth.....don't get me started otherwise I'll just do a repeat of last night minus the booze. Right time to crack on with getting ready for work and doing my same routine of wondering how I chat up that bird at the train station. Is it actually possible to chat someone up first thing in the morning..?

2Darts back again....

I forgot to mention the thing that made me chuckle this weekend. As you know I'm a bit of a grand prix fan and the weekend just gone was a good one. A fabulous ending to the season thanks to Kimi Raikonnen. As the last grand prix of the season as is the last for the career of Michael Schumacher; a presentation was made to the man by no other than Pele. That famous footballer. As the presentation was made, his successor was absent from the proceedings. The commentator asked why he had not unlike the other drivers been present to which the replied "I was taking a shit". Brilliant!! There are not many times on live TV where a prominant figure of motorsport of other kind of sport speaks his mind. The only other time I recall such an embarrassing time was when David Coulthard described the state of Louise Goodmans nipples live on tv.

Sisterhood

I have loads of wonderful girl friends. And many of them (you know who you are) have been great in recent months. I have met a cool chick of a friend recently who (watch this space) may develop into a 2Darts babe. I think that there are two kinds of single blokes in this world. There are blokes who become single who do blokey single things and huddle with similarly single blokes and there are others like my self that too do single blokey things but instead have loads of female friends (mostly married or engaged). My last relationship suffered the problem of me having the sisterhood that I adopted or adopted me that I suppose became a little too much. My friend Pickle said something wonderful a few weeks back that was really nice. She said that she and Foxy were the 2Darts's girls. She meant it in the most nicest of ways, in the most caring of ways. Pickle has known me for a long time and many a person has always said how perceptive she is. Whether a woman is a friend or a lover, there is something most wonderful when a kind hearted compliment is given that makes a bloke feel special. Thanks.

Farewell to F1GP 2006 and Michael Schumacher

I sit here waitng for the final grand prix of this year with great anticipation and celebration for a few reasons. This season has been one of the best for a long time again for a few reasons. Drama, extravegance. Alonso's supposed run away season whittled down to the very end by Shumacher who at times played some under handed tactics and penalised for it; which wasn't the case a few years ago. A close battle with Alonso and Schumacher taking a bite out of each other all season. All grand prix fans celebrate one of the most consistly great drivers retiring is sad and timely. Fantasy F1 would suggest that a marriage of Raikonnen and Shumacher making a great final pairing if only he stayed a year longer but the great man knows when its time to hang up his helmet. Whether or not this Brazilian grand prix is going to be entertaining, it is going to be a race to remember. I put my thanks to Michael for years of entertainment. I am no Schumacher fan but if it wasn't for his talent, F1 in recent years would not be a sport to enjoy. The race is just about to start so I will sign off for the moment.

Average Weekend.

It was the usual Friday after work couple of drinks with some mates. Which was going well. I got a call from my mum for a couple of drinks at their local drinking establishment. Arrived and managed to get plastered (not intentionally) after three there. So the rest of the weekend so far has been an exercise in restraint and feelings of guilt. Some people when they feel either down on their luck or pretty guilty for the over indulgence booze the night before go to church. Could this be why people go to church on a Sunday? To repent for their sins of the Saturday night. It makes sense to me. As I am not religious I seek alternatives to wash away my pangs of guilt of drinking too much by other means. There is a small make shift charity shop just a couple of minutes away from where I live. This cures any ill feeling of the night before as I will buy a couple of books from them knowing that the money goes to charity. A much more favorable alternative than to pay the wage of a holy priest (vicar/monk place your favorite god's representative here..............) so that they too can enjoy some holy booze.

A public announcement

ImmenseSpace, where are you?

Unveil youself

The british people again are facing yet another test in the faith of the multicultural society that we live in.

The news of a prominant government minister speaking his mind about an apparently sensitive subject has caught the attention of the both the tabloids and broadsheets. Generally when news like this hits both types of consumers of current affairs then it makes it indicitive of a real social issue. Not a political one. A politicans opinion adds reasonable and sensible provocation for a debate.

I've spoken to my friends on the subject and have been asked on my views. I am a person with an objective look on life and with this particular subject when I put my reputation in the public domain causes me to think, and think and think again as to how I can involve myself in this predicament. Like many of the people that I share my social status with am unwilling to freely express what I really think. But then what is the point in hiding behind my own deceptive veil that is 2darts if I can't articulate what I think of the situation at hand. The issue is not about religion or politics; it is about a very human instinct to read an individuals facial expression when talking. Only the socially inept would accept that to hide behind a veil or a mask makes no difference to what is said or expressed. Facial expression is a very natural and telling way of what a person thinks or feels. Raising an eyebrow or a slight upturn of the mouth is more effective at expression than any kind of spoken word could describe. The society that we live in expects it. Humour many a time is delivered wholey by the slightest smirk, grin and grimace. As are other expressions of emotion. It is also a gauge of honesty, sincerity, etc....

I recently had a predicament where a telephone conversation about a problem would not have conveyed my reasoning about a subject. By that I mean negotiating a deal would not have worked by a simple phone call. It is impersonal and inappropriate. I'm from an old school of thought that if you need to cut a deal or convince some one of something that it is best done face to face. I did that successfully, recently. If it had been a telephone discussion, it would have been easier for the other party to dismiss my proposal.

Recent events about a muslim woman having the right to wear a veil and the opposing argument about further alienating the faith sounds a little like the inability for a multicultural nation to integrate. Why? Because religion of any kind is very much a mechanism for promoting segregation and intolerance in the wrong mindset. Any train of thought or concept taken too literally causes division and fragmentation of even the most tolerant of societies. Is there a solution to this ? No. I had a good upbringing where to a point religion was the centre point to living. But thanks to my parents they let me decide how I should live my life. Religion is a manual to how to conduct yourself in life. It promotes a framework for making the right moral decisions and to bring together people that share a common belief but is religion so short sighted that another faith or way of life is wrong? Religion played a part when society wasn't as sophisticated as it is now. Religion was a way of uniting mankind's natural tendancy to protect communities from one another. Religion picked up where tribalism found its limitations. Religion now finds its limitations in a world where technology provides a medium for understanding and tolerance and acceptance. Is there a need for religion? No. Not anymore. Perhaps now we should find another word for this new type of integration. Who now are we protecting ourselves from? The so called religous ghettos that are the buzz words of the media only describe a last stand of those faiths that think they are being threatened. In reality its their faiths that adds colour to human kind......and no I've not dropped a load of acid.

Boxing

Why am I talking about what I did last weekend so late in the week. I was cold calling. Bollocks. Now everyone knows its me! Nope I was hosting a swinging party. Er actually nope. Not that either. Infact doing nothing whatsoever as Saturday night was fight night. I bumped into Beefy on Friday night and had a drunken conversation about the Calzaghe/Bika fight amongst others. Not knowing Bika's form or indeed never heard of the man I vaguely recall nodding in the right places about form, historical defeats, chances of winning etc.

Fight night Saturday night and I missed the first seven rounds much to my disappointment. I did however see the other five. Other boxing matches (Ahmed/Harrison) have amounted to nothing more than just a bunch of overhyped british boxers given really shit opponents. Or opponents paid to fall or just box really shit so they get paid a back hander to pay for their crack habit. Round eight and the commentator were singing Joe Calzaghes like he was a champion. Oops he is but his appalling performance quite plain to see didn't reflect the flattering commentary. His opponent Sakio Bika was immensely strong. Joe looked knackered. I could see a fix coming. How wrong I was, no sooner had I resigned myself to yet another show of a fixerer upper than did the man show his expert form. It was a struggle. But Joe won.

Now Calzaghe is to face another hard nut Mikkal Kessler from Denmark. Unbeaten and younger. For the bookies one person who could end Calzaghe's winning run. February is the date. This might just be his last.

Just a point to make about last weekend's fight. The best form of boxing I have seen in a long time. A real brawl. Total aggression. Shades of bruisers of the past. Holyfield, Tyson etc. Its what the sport needs. I'll add that during the match, the rules of boxing were mostly respected. Mostly.

Can I offer you a free.....Mr 2Darts ?

A quick one first. Is there any truth in the tale that once a potato starts to go green then it becomes poisonous?

Today was an exercise in hard working and uncharacteristically a march straight to the train station with no temptation to meet my fellow boozing chums. Why? No particular reason. I got an email from an old boozing chum who recently got married. She sent the link to pictures of her big day and she looked amazing. Pause. Another one to add to my all time famous babe list. Winona Ryder. I'm watching Mr Deeds. Play....and she probably looked even better in real life. She reminded me of how life moves on and people get married and have kids etc. Its people like that that remind me that life doesn't have to stand still and its really about what you make of it. Being in the land that is single isn't all that bad. Its an adventure especially for someone like me who is a serial monogamous relationship person. The trouble is I've done it for too long and never gave myself a chance to explore me. I'm at home feeling content. For the moment.

So armed with the feel good factor, I settled down after feeding Poo Girl and Sick Boy. Just moments into settling down. Pause. I've just spent two minutes talking to my cat who keeps meowing and making general cat type noises. Strange. Play. The phone rings. In the land of relationship I'd anticipate some tosser of a cold caller calling at this time of the evening. In the land of singledom there is a sense of hope and anticipation that it might be a friend or family member and filled with confidence I answer. The pregnant pause is a dead give away to the fact that somewhere in India is a poor bastard who wants to sell me something so that he can feed the family (at this point I suspect that the politically correct brigade are up in arms and are hunting me down). But I'm in the land of singledom and also not in a particularly bastard mode. So entertaining this chap who actually had a good mobile phone deal going I decided to play ball. That is until he started telling me where I live, how long I've live here and who I am. At this point I stopped him and said that there was no need to tell me who I am. Armed with no sense of humour he continued about the offer; three times. Fast forward. I tried as I may to explain that I wouldn't give my financial details over the phone despite the fact that the deal was pretty good. Another five minutes afterwards I told the man that no way and the deal is off. And the great thing about the ending was unlike some UK call centres, the man was very pleasant in politely ending the conversation. No pressure selling and no stroppiness. There are plenty of arguments about call centres relocating to places in India but given the sheer politeness of every person doing such a tough job (I used to work for Kirby Vacuum cleaners) when they've not made the sale is just what we need. When was the last time you experienced politeness and courtesy? In London it is a very rare thing.

Addicted to...

One of the part time regulars at my local drinking establishment is a friend called Frosty. Frosty gave up smoking some months ago or perhaps just over a year. Well done to him for going for it. I think his technique and there are a few notably popular methods. The cold turkey, patches, lozenges, mints, chewing gum, hypnotherapy, eating, solitary confinement etc. So he chose the Allen Carr method which for those who don't know involves reading his book from beginning to end and magically you give up smoking. I have read it twice and am still in the process of stopping. I actually did quite well recently. I managed two weeks and a half weeks without using a combination of the cold turkey, eating and solitary confinement method. I took two weeks off work and stayed at home and rarely ventured out except to buy loadsa junk food. So Thursday night we spoke about addiction and the general opinion was that addiction anything is bad. How can being addicted to sex (as an example) be bad? 99% of blokes would agree that its no bad thing unless it becomes a devient thing to do and they end up commiting a terrible crime to fulfill the addiction. Or is addiction exactly that. Is it a definition of something pleasurable that has turned itself into self harm, harm to others or both? Or does it describe something that is repeated with little or no thought to it? Or perhaps something that once a person would recognise as being pleasurable to an extent so much so that he/she has become desensitised to it and needs a great or more intense sensation to fulfill the need. So Frosty likes cheese. He said that he is addicted to cheese. Weird fetish if you ask me. But could I apply what I've said earlier to his particular addiction? At which point does the life of this man become consumed by his desire for a cheese fix? At what point will he stop washing and shaving himself in the mornings. Not put out the rubbish or clean his teeth for a cheese fix? Will he steal to fund his habit? Sell his body to men and women for a nibble of stilton? Every one has an addiction. No one person lives a moderate life. For some its cigarettes or booze, for others its sex and drugs or a combination of all four. Other people are addicted to keeping fit which ironically can kill if my theory of addiction is correct. Perhaps it is everyone addiction to something that in the end kills us. But death by cheese?

Commitments

Its not that I couldn't be bothered to blog all this week. I can only say that work and social commitments have taken priority. Many of my friends have returned from a three month break and its good to see them all again. With regards to work; it has certainly been busy. Quite fulfilling and yesterday just about topped the busy end of the working life scale. The problem is with remembering it all for Monday. I must admit though the evening turned out to be quite the most pleasant for some time. I entered by unsually busy drinking establishment with the thought of having just a couple and knowing full well that was never going to be the case. I listened to stories about the croatian war from my Slavian friend who after his service ended up a chef (how that works out I don't know but I wouldn't complain about his food!). Amazing stuff that he recounted that I can only imagine what it may have been like. My friend Pickle turned up which was a suprise as she'd never turn up with out her right hand woman Foxy. After a brief moment to convince Pickle that she did indeed need a quick drink we spent most of the night talking. The context of which was frank and honest and I must admit a well need talk. Mostly for my benefit though as I was feeling a little down in the dumps and it wasn't the booze talking either for once. The great thing about being around Pickle is she is one of a few very attractive female friends that I regard as friends. I also get great satisfaction about telling my male friends who she is whenever they ask who that hot chick I'm with is. Brilliant for my self esteem. And even better that I tell them that she my mate. The downside is that is all it will be. ...Que Sera Sera!

Your 'avin aiee larf!!

Joke (It helps if you can impersonate Sean Connery):

Sean Connery's career had taken a recent downward turn and jobs were scarce. His agent desperate to find him any part for him was approached by a TV advertising company to star in a commercial. After a brief discussion the agent puts down the phone rather happy that his comission would roll with job offered to the fading actor. So with that he calls Sean early that morning.

Agent: "Sean, I have good news for you."

Sean: "Well that's fantastic my good man. Tell me, what is it?"

Agent: "Well its for a commercial advert"

Sean: "What sort of advert?"

Agent: "It's for a Martini drink. There is one catch however..."

Sean: "Yes?"

Agent: "You'll have to be there for 10'ish."

Sean: "Why my good man. I don't even have a racket."

Ta daaa!!!!!

A Little Harsh

Just reading over today's entries this afternoon, I realise that some of my moodiness has rubbed off on to my blog. Sorry. Hangovers! Who needs 'em. Its a good thing UKTV Gold is doing a run of "Carry on" films. There's nothing like a good bit of innuendo to brighten up the day. Just like Laurel and Hardy and Norman Wisdom films, Carry on up the Khyber is one of my all time favorites. Do they do comedy as good as that now? Not really. British sitcom? Died a death some time ago. What a shame that now all we have is the likes of My Family, and the one with the twat who thinks he's a superhero. So insignificant that I can't even remember it. I think political correctness killed many of the quality comedy writers and their shows. Admittedly anything that encourages racism is still a no no. But when you had the likes of the Carry On films and even Benny Hill, what a laugh. It doesn't encourage me to slap a womans arse and these are the comedies that I used to grow up with. I doubt very much that kids today are any more suseptible to that sort of thing than in my youth.

Chefs and Cooks part Deux

And another thing about TV chefs. Why are most of them blokes? From memory, I can only recall a few. But of the few notable ones are the ladies from the "Two Fat Ladies", Sophie Grigson (the mumsy looking one), my mum and my ex-girlfriend. Nigella Lawson doesn't count as she has someone to do the cooking for her. She is afterall just a pretty face. Although the hips kind of some add credibility to her talents. Having said that, quite recently there have been some top chef totty notably Jo Pratt as seen to your left. A fine figure of a female chef. Shame about the surname but I suppose you can't have everything. In particular I'd recommend one her recipes, Greek Lamb Salad and Red Pepper Hummus.

Chefs and Cooks

I love cooking. Or I used to anyway. When there was a time I had a laydee I used to enjoy creating wonderfful dishes for her to savour. Alas those days are gone. So I am confined currently to watching the UKTV Food channel for inspiration. Now I rate Gordon Ramsay and that twirp Jamie Oliver quite highly as well any indian chef :-) and my Mum. They are producers of some of the finest culinary delights to hit my taste buds. There is one chef however who consistently makes me want to not eat food. That man is Gary Rhodes. Stupid haircut, irritating voice and very much an insincere TV personality. Oh and shit food. The reason why I am saying this is how can anyone who starts making something that looks like its going to taste fantastic end up at ballsing it up with an addition to the meal that is more at home in a completely different meal. "But you've never tried it!" I hear you cry! I couldn't give a toss.

One of Lifes Mysteries

Like the impossible feat of trying to lick ones elbow. I had a moment this morning. How on earth did an eyelash come to place itself in the back of my throat?

Blunket you fool

Politician David Blunkett admits that he nearly had a nervous breakdown following the the affair he had when he was home secretary. I can't believe he didn't see it coming. Ouch!

This Towns Gotta Bad Reputation

I'm a firm believer of never criticising someone elses home town as you never actually know the area until you've lived there so in the true tradition of irony I give you my top ten Chav towns. Oh and for all of you who don't know the term 'chav'. Here is a definition:

"Chav is a derogatory slang term in popular usage throughout the UK. It refers to a subculture stereotype of a person who is uneducated, uncultured and prone to antisocial or immoral behaviour. The label is typically, though not exclusively, applied to teenagers and young adults of white working-class or lower-middle class origin. Chav is used for both sexes, where a male chav is sometimes referred to as a chavster and a female as a chavette. ..."



Luton
Mitcham
Croydon
Sutton
New Addington
Harlesden
Thamesmead
Burnley
Bedford
Most areas in Essex

For those who won't understand the irony. Half of those areas on my list I've never actually lived in.

Quite irritating and amusing because its partly true is a description of my town on a fabulous website called Chavtowns.

South London Invasion

Proud to be South London. Sorry but I just had to make the statement. In the finest tradition of celebrations and indeed having started this new regime of a healthier diet and cycling, I used the opportunity of my friend Foxy's birthday to let it all hangout. Yes boozing and smoking. Terrible now that I wake up this morning with some regret. So as was the traditional way after a night of boozing and womanising. Ok forget the last part. Lets face it. I'm no John Wayne. Hang on a minute, his real name was Marion. Pansy. Anyway, I made my way as ever to my local kebab shop for a spot of heart attack in a pitta bread and for the first time ever I was refused. What was this? Divine intervention? They'd run out of kebab meat.....and they would let me use their toilet. So with a heavy heart I turned to the only place left. Next door. Many of you will have heard of KFC formerly known as Kentucky Fried Chicken. In my day it was called exactly that, not this modern age of abbreviations. Its abbreviations for everything. For example, "Would you like a cup of T?". Erm. Hang on. Ok. I'll think of another one. South London has its own mini empire of fast greasy fried chicken and chip shops callled Morleys. I will simply not accept anyone from North London saying its a their invention. I seem to remember seeing this chain of shops first starting out somewhere in Brixton. From there, this chain of shops has spread. I was a hardcore faithful of the KFC until I must admit that for the first time ever, late last night I experienced what a Morleys tasted like. And just like a kebab after a cocktail of beverages, it tasted sublime. Highly recommended when hammered.

Oh and just to set my opinion in concrete, I found a good blog article at this site.

What is a Blog?

A friend of mine who I think is absolutely amazingly hilarious and wonderful and has this uncanny knack of impersonating just about everybody. She does a great characature of her nearest and dearest friends. Last night while celebrating Foxy's birthday, she commented on my blog. She exclamed that it was all me,me,me and blogsters are so self obsessed. Naive woman! Of course they aren't. I tried to define what a blog was but the very words that passed my lips were nothing but hollow ones as they travelled across the busy pub atmosphere and hit her ears. So this morning, feeling slightly hungover I thought I'd find a definition from a definitive source (Google).

"Blog is short for weblog. A weblog is a journal (or newsletter) that is frequently updated and intended for general public consumption. Blogs generally represent the personality of the author or the Web site." - Google definitions.

So there you go Blarney Pickle.

At last, the truth.....

At last, the truth once and for all about kebabs of the meaty kind and not the chicken kind. A few years back I was told by a newly converted vegetarian that the "cow thigh" spinning around on a spit was made from the scraps of an animal carcass including such fine cuts like testicles, nose and lips etc. Did that put me off? Nope. Mad cows disease? Nope. I didn't really know what to think to be honest. I didn't think that kebabs traditionally were made of that kind of stuff. Bring on a programme called the 'F-Word' with Gordon Ramsey. Apart from the main feature of the show and in particular one episode there was a report on how the meat from kebabs are made. Burton on Trent has a sizeable factory that produces both lamb and beef kebabs. For coniseurs of kebabs, it is quite easy to tell the difference. For those not in the know, if the menu says 'Doner Kebab' then it is lamb, if it just says 'Kebab' then we're looking at beef. The crew filmed the source meat used before it turns into 'the thigh'. And despite the bullshit stories people have heard as described above, they are indeed made from proper lumps of flesh from a cow or lamb. Hoorah!! Tuck in boys and girls, the only thing you need to fear is a heart attack.

Bread and other food gripes...

Am I getting grumpier the older I get? I'm sure I've said this before. Hovis are advertising a bread without crusts for kids (or childish adults). What the hell for? Any parent that panders to their child's every wish, including cutting off crusts for kids is setting themselves up for the teenager from hell who expects everything. For everytime I got what I wanted when I was a kid, I'd be the biggest snob in the world. What's more, I bet you'd have to pay a premium for the bread manufacturer to cut the crusts off for you. This leads me on to ready grated cheese. Why? Packaged uncooked baked potato. Why? Ready made salads? Microwave kebabs? Microwave burgers? What's wrong with these people and the people who buy them?

Books

The other day I popped into my local charity shop to hand myself in. Just kidding. I popped into the charity shop to browse as these places are full of overlooked treasures. I in particular always look out for books of a certain age. My last treasure find was some years ago at an old book shop in Streatham (or St. Reatham for those traditionalists) in South London. In fact come to think of it, it was called the South London Book Shop. I'm sure of it. Browsing through the Sci-Fi section as I always did, I came across a book called the Time Machine naturally by H.G. Wells. The really interesting thing about it was when it was published. 1920. This book is priceless to me in everyway but in the monetary value of it. Why? When I hold the book, it feels like no other. Every page I turn makes me feel privelaged to do so like I hold something very very special. It goes without saying that it is his finest book written. For a book to make its way into my hands after seventy years or so handed on person to person, surviving all those years relatively unscathed is remarkable. There doesn't seem anything quite so special in the f limsy mass produced quality of the same book in modern times. So my advice to people is, if you really enjoy reading and have time to go hunting, find that favourite of yours (if it is a classic) of the earliest possible edition printed. It really does make all the difference.

The High's and Low's of Highs

A long time ago back in the misty haze that were my student days, I like a percentage of the population of students got introduced to a variety illegal substances. Experimentation was on the agenda of many a student back then. Each encounter was fulfilling in some ways and for the large part the majority of the experimentation was a once only. Once was definitely enough. This was down to education, commonsense and self awareness. Anything that is pleasurable is surely good for you right? Wrong. Not always. My parents taught me to be self aware and aware of others. They equipped me with enough commonsense not to fall into the traps that I saw others fall into.

Modern society as much as it struggles to accept modern day illegal drugs can never get past the barrier of the harm it does to people. Cocaine/Heroin/Acid/Cannabis/Ecstacy addicts. These people cannot stop the self abuse. Why? Because no one ever taught them how to use it responsibly. What about alchohol? Yes that too. But the government doesn't seem to recognise this substance as harmful enough to ban it. As much as the aforementioned drugs drive some people to self neglect, neglect of their friends, family members and children, so does alchohol. I won't linger on this subject for too much longer as I'm straying from my point. The drugs I have mentioned are highly potent. The effects are in the extreme. While at the time they are pleasurable when taken in moderation, they are addictive.

Nicotine too is addictive but the dependency on the revenue through taxation makes it acceptable to the government to fuel peoples addiction to it. The government only takes a very flimsy, insincere moral high ground toward tobacco by advertising the dangers of smoking. If they really cared, then surely a ban is the only way to go. Ask a smoker if they really enjoy smoking. Most of the time they are miserable and resentful for being dependent on the weed.

The people I knew and indeed the people I used to join in with all the fun of taking this that and the other have long since vanished out of my life the moment I stopped taking those subtances and like dark shadows receded away everytime I saw them. They saw me as someone to harm them, someone who looked down at them. There were times when they resented me leaving their circle so much that they often used to give the impression to other people that I infact still did it to deflect any attention away from their alter-ego existence, befriending policemen hoping that it would somehow provide them with credibility. What a joke. This is the extent they would go to. to protect the addiction and circle. What a shame.

Illegal drugs are soul destroying. I have met people who have even been addicted to cannabis. One drug that I thought couldn't possibly be addictive. But true it is. I had a friend of mine who was and probably still is, a car mechanic. A man working with dangerous machinery and on parts of a car such as brakes and fuel lines. Things vital to the safety of a car while smoking skunk. Amazingly stupid. Ironically he used to lecture about the evils of drink driving which of course is true. But getting stoned on skunk, working on a customers car and then finally driving the ten mile journey across London home? I never knew quite how he managed it. I suppose just like a drink driver who somehow manages to get away by driving home without crashing.

Finally, I get to the really interesting developments that have recently come to light in the newspapers and a certain scientific publication. Legal Highs. What? Yes. Legal herbal mixtures in pill form or dried leaf extract. All those hardcore stone heads out there are thinking "what a waste of money. You want the real thing mate." Yes these are the kind of people who are too hooked on the illegal stuff to even want to bother trying it. I came across an article in New Scientist magazine which caught my attention about legal highs. There is talk of a plant called Salvia D. which provides short bursts of hallucigenic feelings. I'd never heard of the thing by it is legal (at the moment). It is not addictive and there is no chance of an overdose. There are pills with combinations of herbal extracts and synthetic chemicals which produce the same kind of effects as magic mushrooms and ecstasy and acid without the terrible paranoia, addiction and feeling of general crappiness the following day. To me this all sounded a load of marketing rubbish. Now I am normally quite the optimist about the world but this brought out the cynic in me. A family relative once told me how they tried cannabis once and said that it didn't to anything for them to which I immediately thought they weren't smoking the real deal and infact it was probably po-purri. I decided after reading the article to research some more on the wonderful invention they call "the internet". I came across website upon website selling all kinds of magic pills from party pills to purple ohms to strawberry fields (how original) and Salvia D. Still no personal accounts of people who have taken these so called magic pills. This began to reinforce the cynic in me. Finally after fine tuning my google search field did I uncover a couple of sites where people have written in about there experiences. One writer described Purple Ohms. I read that one and then another and another. Mr Cynical kicked in and again I thought nothing more that a marketing ploy. Another way to rip off people to wanted to follow the legal road to getting high.

The scientific mind in me decided not to dismiss it outright. After all it was legal and I could quite happily dangle a couple of packets of this stuff from my ears and nobody including the police would give a damn. So I emailed my local "Head Shop" to enquire about the availability of a couple of the interesting sounding things that I'd read about. A reply came so down to the head shop I went. The gentleman behind the counter was a very helpful pleasant chap and after a conversation about the how's and what's I decided on my selection and waved goodbye. After much house work (to clear my mind of any guilt should this stuff actually work) I settled down for the evening and followed the instructions.......

......What a load of crap. They didn't work (one hour in). I decided to go back to the Head Shop the next day and complain. Half and hour later, I changed my mind. Can it really be legal? The whole of the night was amazing. I'd recommend some good music. Lights low. Nothing else beats it.

This brings me to my final point. What are the decisions behind legalizing or illegalizing recreational drugs? Is it a moral judgement? No. If that were so then perhaps alchohol and tobacco should be instantly banned (which I think is no bad thing). Is it a medical judgement? No. If that were so then perhaps alchohol and tobacco should be banned. A combination of the two? Maybe. The truth of the matter is that alchohol, tobacco and legal highs are all subject to taxation. This is what makes them legal. What are we suggesting here? The only difference between legal and illegal is revenue from tax. No not quite. If it weren't for the criminal association with current illegal drugs then I think one by one some of the illegal drugs mentioned earlier would then be de-classified. The argument against legalisation? Damaging to mental and physical health. There are many more people who die of alchohol and tobacco related illnesses than of drugs. The difference is that one alchohol and tobacco prolong the agony while drugs takes a shorter time for addiction or death. My Dad said to me that too much of anything is bad for you. Indeed, it is possible to kill yourself by drinking too much water.

I am in no way condoning the taking of drugs but I am reinforcing the irony that exists today. Like alchohol addiction doesn't effect everyone, neither does drug addiction to the majority of sensible people out there. But there is a problem. Addiction. Address why some people are more prone to addiction then you many have an answer or part of one.


CLICK HERE for the New Scientist Article.

Something to worry your wives and girlfriends

A quick glance at my portal to world that is the BBC news website and I noticed an article about men who pay for sex in the health section. Interestingly it was the mention that fifty percent of men who pay for sex actually have a partner. The poor woman. Two things are probably happening here for men to do this. Not enough sex at home. No sex at home. Okay three things, not enough variety sex at home. My response to this are three things. Dump her, use porn or talk to her about why there's no horizontal gymnastics in the bedroom anymore. Jeeze!

There's a line in the article that says:

"What some do instead is seek respite through alchohol, drugs or sex".

Umm I would have though that it would be a combination of either of the first two with the third or all three that ends up in shagging a lady of the night.

The other thought that crossed my mind was is this really new news? I mean surely this has remained in the relm of the unsaid word amongst fellow men. I personally have never done such a thing. I'd rather spend money on something else. Like a vibrator for my girlfriend for example. Or even a slap up meal and a bunch of flowers. Still does the trick and you get your clothes washed for you in the morning. (I'm just joking).

Here's the article.

Food Glorious Food.

As some of you may know, I enjoy cooking. Its one of the very few things in life where putting in some effort into something results in something satisfying. There isn't really many things in life that you could say the same about. So a word of warning to anyone hoping to try out 'Dunn Rivers Jerk Paste' to make Jerk Chicken. Don't use too much of it like I did last night. You'll be blowing rings of fire the following morning.

Showbiz Darts

Here's one for Barry's Beef. Showbiz Darts on Challenge TV Monday at 10.30pm.

Life Stands Still

"Its a funny old game". The phrase usually applies to football rather than Formula One grand prix. Today's Chinese grand prix is a race that I would apply that phrase to. A spectacular combination of unpredictable weather, tires, talent and crapidity (I think I've invented a new word). All appointments and obligations stand still for the final three grand prixs and after todays race validly so.


I'm no Shumacher fan but then I'm not an Alonso fan either. And true to the brit spirit, I always had some hope of Jense Button slipping past the warring front runners to claim his second win. Unfortunately it was not to be and at one point, there was no chance of a points finish due to crap tyres on his Honda. Amazingly from fourth to tenth to fourth position on the last lap over taking De La Rosa and team mate Barichello was genius. How he read the other drivers and the track condition to salvage some good points was frankly amazing especially when there were five cars in the mix on the second to last turn of the final lap. Superb! So now its down to the wire for Shumacher and Alonso with only Japan and Brazil to go. Japan being a traditional Schumacher favorite and Brazil being a fast and dry circuit usually favoring Renault (looking at the form for this season). Should I put money on it (bearing in mind that in a previous blog post, I'm not a betting man) ? I'll be brave and say Schumacher...just.