Saturday, 31 May 2008
Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now : Why would anyone ever get rid of this ever ever, not only because the song's great but the picture is just plain great. All that money most of it going on her "DO"...
The Tom Boy with the Thorn in Her Side: I should have bought this but my main fear in life isn't being found dead being eaten by the cat ,no it's being found under a mound of tat clutching the movie adaptation novel to "Digby the biggest dog in world"......
Suffer the little children: The same goes for this except whilst I'm slowly get crushed by my Tat hillock, I don't want the scary F**kin' clown to come alive and cackle in my ear and do what scary clowns do.
Apart from this stuff I got a got some top tunes more of which soon .
I found another one, I'm sure some of you think I make these up, but in the market today I found the king of Diamonds. I'm sure the elderly Rastafarian looking guy will testify to it being true, as he gave me a very WTF look as I picked it up.
I've got unselfconscious about it now after all I might never see this particular one ever again.
Anyway only 40 plus to find!
Friday, 30 May 2008
I’ve always found lots of things other people like confusing, I worry I just don’t get stuff a lot people do, you know like putting mayonnaise in every sandwich, or wearing nothing but denim, or watching Eastenders for pleasure, or the English patient, or the Eden project, I could go on but the most perplexing one is people who don’t like music.
Picture the scene I was on the way home listening to the radio (I need to refresh the songs on my phone) it’s Chris Evan’s request show and this woman rings in, she seems nice has a friendly chat about her weekend and then after hanging on the line waiting to get through for 20mins(?) (plus all the times before when she was unsuccessful) she has a moment in the sun, a time to share, how is she going to make our lives better, it’s a sunny evening she could really improve our day with some great pop gem. But no out of all the songs ever made, the song that says most about her life that she wants to be identified with at least for short while is:
“I cocking almost bastard died in your bleeding arms last kill me now night” by the Cutting “deaths to good for them” Crew. For those who want to sap your will further go here but please don’t
I don’t think Mrs Tone deaf from Rugby is a bad person she’s probably far nicer than me that’s for sure but how can that be your favourite song, she simply can’t like music.
Look she could have chosen this.
Or got the pulse racing with this
or moved us with this
Or something marvellously weird like this
This is even new and I can’t stop playing it, it’s ace and sounds a bit like the Mondays
This would have brought some serenity to us all
or she could have just not bothered and just asked us to turn of the radio sets and listen to the sound of silence
Like I say I’m sure it’s me who’s the weirdo but them normal folk are just plain weird?
Thursday, 29 May 2008
Now our town when I was a young lacked many things; jobs! A swimming pool! A MacDonald’s! (this was a good thing) but one thing we had in excessive was tennis balls. This wasn’t because our lanky mate Soggy (a ginner) looked like Boris Becker, no the reason was Dunlop/Slazenger had factory on the other side of Barnsley making the things. Every school had at least one dad who worked there and got “seconds”, I don’t ever remember buying a new one.
Now I don’t know if these games are particularly local but we use to play a number of tennessy based games as well as the usual footy etc.
One game was called pegs (yes, this makes me sound like a Victorian street urchin but it was only 1982 Honest!) In pegs you made a tiny goal out of 3 pegs placed against the wall and then one of you threw a ball at the pegs and I can’t remember what happened next but throwing a soggy tennis ball at your best mate was involved.
No the main game I wanted to record was called Hot Rice!
How to play!
Kit: one tarmac play ground (it doesn’t work grass)
One manky hairy tennis knackered ball.
Players: at least 4 up to 10-12. (but not any “mucky binner’s or dodgy types from Woolley or Pye Ave)
Rules: Bearing in mind that games of hot Rice! have been going on centuries we must assume this isn’t the first game.
Aim of the game: Hot Rice! is a running game similar to tag, tig or dobby but using ball to catch players not your hand.
To start the game an elaborate circle was formed. See diagram.
1.The group stands in circle facing inwards.
2.The Kingey “(a lead player chosen during, either from the previous game or possibly the owner of the ball) bounces the ball in the centre of circle.
3.The ball is bounced 2 times the group chant “hot rice! bounce twice” “once” “twice” as the ball bounces.
4. On the last bounce the ball is set free and careers round the ring of legs, the players try to deflect the ball to make it go through the legs of another player who will be “ON” if it happens. To do this, players flick their legs like pin ball flippers hitting the ball with their heals. If they move their toes it counts as cheating or “ chaytin” as we would have said.
5. As the ball passes through the legs of the player who is “ON” the Kingey can choose to shout “sticky pudding” whilst holding their fists in front of them thumbs aloftC .
6. This is all happening all at once remember so one kid is now “ON”, the Kingey is claiming “sticky pudding” this allows him to stay where he is and not be take part in the first phase of the game. Other players can also claim “sticky pudding” but only if the kingey has already proclaimed it first. Players can’t claim “sticky pudding” if they have moved their feet or attempted to leave the circle .
7. If the kingey doesn’t say “sticky pudding” everybody has to break from the circle and the game begins. Even if “sticky pudding” is called one player has to run this player is the “bucket” or as we would say “ oy johnsey tha bucket from furst brek thy is”. Johnsey or whomever became “bucket” by being the first person caught in the last game. The bucket has to run whatever happens and is in danger of being bucket again if all the other players stay in the circle.
8. While everyone else is “sticky puddinging” the kid who’s On has run off and retrieved the ball.
9. The ON player now searches out players to throw the ball at. If they hit a player the player joins the ON side and hunts down the other players until they all caught. The last player becomes the Kingey and the game restarts.
10.The moment the first running player is hit the immunity of “sticky pudding” is broken and all the players join the running game and are eligible to be thrown at and caught even the Kingey.
11.Now the aim of the running game is to avoid being hit so players would twist and turn, feint right and left, duck and jump. The player who is On doesn’t want to throw until they were ready otherwise they may have to retrieve the wall from the other end of the playground.
12. The hunted can protect themselves by hitting the ball with their fists but not the open hand and could even pick the loose ball up with their knuckles but not palms. If the ball touched you anywhere else you where ON.
13. The running game could last for 5 plus minutes with the hunted taunting the kids who where ON or the ball could be thrown between the hunters making the hunted weave like piggy in the middle.
The old tennis balls where generally hairy and knadgered with beards of cloth hanging from them, that if dipped in a puddle made a delightful splatter on your mates clothes.
Anyway that is as far as I can remember the rules to hot rice! I’ve never met anyone not from Barnsley, who played it, I’m not sure kids play it today. It was a cracking game, very energetic and because of its repetitive nature strangely uncompetitive at least not in the crowing modern shirts over heads way. It did occasion the odd stung cheek from a fast thrown ball or grazed knee from hitting the tarmac but not much else. Good players could evade capture by running through the girls skipping ropes or behind teachers.
I thought I’d post it here as these sort of things go un-noticed and unrecorded. I’m not one for the Hovis ad view of the past but it would nice to know that somewhere 6 lads are chanting their version of the rhyme, laughing at the bucket and dipping a Slazenger in a puddle ready to christen their best mate’s tracky top.
Monday, 26 May 2008
Woollies is to stop selling singles which looks like the on going story of the slow decline of record selling on the high street.
However it was only after researching a recent flea market find did I find out that for a time woollies not only sold but also made records. Their label (as some of you probably) know as Embassy it seemed to specialise in covers or transatlantic knock offs.
Anyway apart from their own label I’m sure many people here bought stuff from woollies; I know I use have it on my tour of the records shops on Saturday morning and if the price was right I would buy stuff there.
What did people get amongst the pick and mix?
Here’s an good site for more on Embassy records
My find was by Jaybirds it’s sub “that’ll be the day” fare but interesting none the less.
Last Saturday though it was just rotten, I watched about 30 mins of it and it was total rubbish. My mood wasn’t enhanced by injuring myself in the most English of ways (no I wasn’t choking on orange wearing the missus’ draws) no I dropped a knife on my foot making a G 'n' T! So I was on the sofa quelling the bleeding, cursing the telly.
What stood out was that the songs were so bland and poor, you could mix them up and have no idea where they came from. They didn’t even have any daft camp joy about them .
The fact that Vladimir Putin the man who puts the robbin’ lyin’ steelin’ and Murderin’ in reactionary totalitarian dictator, thinks it’s a good thing has really up put me off it.
The block voting reminds of the story that Kruschev once sent a telegram to the Czech president the day after the Czechs had lost to the Americans at ice hockey.
It went something like this:
RE: Loss ot Match night
The UK song was rank 3rd rate 2nd division middle of the road soul album filler of the worst kind. Next year I’ll leave ‘em to it.
If you want spunky punky funky (sort of) music that’s not from round ‘ere , here’s some that’s kept getting played on me Nokia ipoddy phone doo dah for several months now….
They/She are called Sakёrt! It’s a Swedish language off shoot of the poptastic Hello saferide. It won’t win the cocking Eurovision because it’s got more spirit than Putin’s drinks cabinet but that’s not the point, pop music should make you heart beat faster, should make you want to dance, to smile, or make you want to cry (but not because you’ve got a chopping knife in your foot) it’s about being alive.
So here’s a video/slide play back thing.
Or if you can be arsed you can sign into myface and download the demo it’s called “Faller Isär” which I think means “Falling Girl” but needn’t detain us too much. Enjoy!
"Rain fails to dampen cheese rolling "
“I’m going to let my new Swiss army knife answer to that” By speed market avenue
International peace keeper with the toppermost name of the decade (1960’s)
General Odd Bull
Saturday, 24 May 2008
Friday, 23 May 2008
Wednesday, 21 May 2008
These chaps on these marvellous machines harvested my tea. I had some excellent English asparagus and the last of the granita how flash am I? It’s good to know where your snap comes from, here in fact.
There was an old school Chelsea fan on the train just now, you know bald head, thick neck, footy shirt, tatts and Sov rings. He was being obnoxiously loud on the train having an expletive thick boorish phone call with his mate. He got off and as I followed him I could see his plastic bag of booze was starting bulge dangerous. I should have said something but before I could say owt it split and all his Stella, every last bottle bit the dust in a foamy explosion. Cue more swearing and over top dramatics tee hee. I probably saved him from another drunken tatt and anyway if his club wasn’t awash with money stolen from the poor of Russia I might have had some sympathy; what am I saying, no one has ever liked Chelsea, I do hope they loose. oh and Man U have just scored.
Tee hee Rays Mears has tried to slap down his channel 4 competitor Teddy "Bear" Gryll. The papers has tried to settle the debate as to who's hardest and had come down on the the side of Teddy.
This proves 2 things firstly this doffing the forelock to toffs is getting out hand as t'old Teddy is the son of some high ranking Tory and that with the best will in world they shouldn't have got women to decide on this. Firstly she's impressed by Teddy's SAS credentials well if everyone who say's he was in SAS was in SAS it wouldn't be a squadron it be an entire army in itself. It's like every scouser over age 50 saw the Beatles anyone over 40 saw the Pistols at the 100 club. She's also impressed by his name which as we've seen is really quite soft/posh he's called Edward .
It's not a shame about Ray
T'old Teddy would be off to his mum the moment the poor boys nicked his sweets.
It's hardly a question Ray's the king of the mountains,and bogs, and outback, and forests and desert and cosy woodlands in Surrey.
ps I bet Teddy doesn't even sh*t in woods.
pps. Also Ray had that slightly mad Botany Professor on his last show who used eat weeds like a small mammal and was slightly loopy.
To quote evan dando "what if there's something good on tv and it's never shown again" but this time it is ,
oh shut up and get to the point....the excellent edwyn collins bbc documentary is on I player I missed it the first time and on BBC2 last night but hurrah it's appeared in webspace.
Monday, 19 May 2008
Why go west when you can go east? Why go to the Chelsea Flower show when we can have one here in SE London, all that was lacking was tasteful tv coverage with an even more tasteful indie soundtrack, so I made a film. Gorilla Gardeners of the world unite you have nothing to lose but your bananas plants!
Late night update: the music is by the unlikely named "speck mountain" who i like great deal, i heard it in q record shop and bought it there then, the tracks called "summer above" . I really like them they are a touch scandnavian but from the states I think
Sunday, 18 May 2008
I went out to eat the other day and had some very good food; well the starter and the main course were good. Unusually I had a pudding and as usual I was disappointed. The desert was so ridiculously sweet it could have come with squirty cream, 100’s and 1000’s, white chocolate buttons and in a sugar bowl and you wouldn’t have noticed. So I decided to try something a bit more grown up or perhaps just not as sweet.
Campari & Grapefruit Granita.
Campari like anchovies, olives, capers et al is one of those tastes you grow into but once you get it you can’t go back, maybe you do get bitter in your old age after all!
I’m not sure I actually made a granita as it was closer to sorbet but it was jolly nice and crucially not too sweet, I think even people who don’t like Campari might like it. Its wonderfully pink and sharp tasting. Its best eaten on the day but can be frozen for few days and left to melt a little and broken up with a fork before eating.
Weights and measures:
I got the basic recipe from here, I’ve never bothered to find the conversion table for American cups so I just used a mug. It made about enough for 6-8 to have a tasteful amount, I would just treat the amounts as proportions. I use boxed juice as I couldn’t be bothered to clean my juicer after squeezing a few grapefruits, I’m sure it would even better made from fresh. Using blood grapefruit would add to the pinkness!
1/2 mug sugar
3 &1/2 mugs of Grapefruit juice
1/3 mug Campari (depending on how strong you like it)
Flat plastic box with lid
Method and changes:
The difference I made to the recipe was to use all juice, I didn’t heat up the liquid just stirred the sugar till it dissolved. Then pour in the Campari. I tasted it before freezing and added a splash more Campari for good measure. Bear in mind that it will taste sweeter before freezing, as cold food in general needs more seasoning; don’t add too much booze as the alcohol may stop the thing freezing at all! Then after 40 mins. you stir it to break up the ice crystals, keep doing this until it looks like frozen rice or grains hence the name.
As to prep time it took 10 mins. to make and about 4-5 hrs in fridge to freeze to the loose texture I needed, I used a deep dish for space reasons; use a shallow bowl and it will take less time.
After a recent spot of crate diving I found the Barry Ryan below and also this 7” which I knew nothing about except one of the titles was in French and I hoped it might be “Yeh-Yeh girl track”. It turns out that Vickki Carr isn’t a Yorkshire beauty spot but is in fact Texan born singer originally called Florencia Bisenta de Casillas Martinez Cardona which is fancockingtastic name and another sad sign of the blandification of American life in 50-60’s . Go here for more name change fun. ,
I think after a time she went back to her roots and now sings in Latin idioms. I like these two songs; they were never anything more than mainstream pop but worth a listen because of that.
The first “It must be him (seul son son etoile)” is more apt today with all our crackberries, twitter sites myface pages, the opportunity to be “hanging on the telephone” waiting for your latest (potential) squeeze to ring is endless. The song reads like an episode of “sex and the city” all in 2 and a bit minutes and thankfully without all the shoes and cod philosophy. It’s over wrought in a good way (probably due to its Gallic roots) and tip toes into camp sounding like Liza with twist of Eartha kit in the spoken bits. Have a listen and maybe turn your phone off for a few minutes.
Next up is just a great summer tune “So nice (Summer Samba)”. “Bossa nova” being one of the definitive sounds of the summer. This is a little bitter sweet treat like a well made Caipirinha it has a hint of Iberian sadness about it but swings along safe in the knowledge that it’s hard to be down on such a lovely day.
The sound on these tracks is poor I didn’t want to play around with them too much, so maybe have a listen and then track down better versions, that or put it on in the other room for that late afternoon breezy dreamy curtains gently stirring summer time feel.
Have we got any limes left and did you refill the ice cube tray?
Saturday, 17 May 2008
Adults who drink strawberry Ribena.
That's it I don't have to explain anything more as it's obvious just stop it, it's wrong.
Yes, that means you and you and you at the back of the bus and especially not with chips just stop it!
Tuesday, 13 May 2008
I’m at risk of sounding like a professional Northerner but here are some tunes from Leeds. Now having talked a lot about the charms of gods own county, Leeds isn’t exactly a music city with the honourable exception the Mighty CUD, the weddoes, Soft Cell (sort of) you are getting to the end of Leed’s contribution to popular music. A poor showing compared with Mancfester and d’pool, even Sheff fares much better.
Anyway battling for West Yorkshire for few years in d’60’s came twin brothers Barry and Paul Ryan with possibly the maddest 7 inch ever made. The A is the marvellous Eloise which is so over the top it’s almost in Lancashire followed 5mins later by “Love I almost found” which is my current fave. I can’t believe the strings have not ended up on some young persons dance housey housey record by Jeyes fluid or snoopy snoopy dog dog.
My copy been used as pit prop so it is a tad sibilant but enjoy it anyway.
By the way Paul wrote the songs and wrote this
Love I almost found you
Aside from him being my celebrity stalker a while ago out and about in Camden he’d follow me about and I couldn’t get on train to Leeds without our Alan spying on me from his 1st class seat!
Whilst reading his diaries (getting my own back for all his prying!) I remembered that it’s around now that’s it’s his birthday; so in the way of a birthday tribute I offer you my sub Bennettian AB anecdotes in the form of diary entries.
Nov 6th 1991
To the Playhouse in Leeds with G, L, M and co to the revival of Alan Bennett’s’ “40 years on”. The plays excellent although not sure my literary knowledge is up to his spoofs.
In the bar afterwards I see AB and decided quite out of characters to go and quickly tell him how much I love his work and thank him in general. I sidle up to him at the counter and am about to blurt out my thanks when one of the actors swings him away to join the rest of the cast.
Later I see him leaving and make my way out to try to catch him, but he’s saying his goodbyes and so I don’t disturb him and head for my bus. The stop is at the foot of long flight of steps and as I wait at the bottom. I see AB making his way down the steps. So I screw up my courage and wait the excruciating long time it takes for the Mac clad author to make his way down the ill lit steps. As he reaches the bottom and steps into the sodium light, it’s too late for me to stop myself saying “excuse me Mr Bennett I loved the play”. Only to realise it’s a tramp, who taking me for a friendly sort pesters me for the age it takes for my bus to come, for the price of a drink, I pay up and sit chastened on the bus all the way home.
Aug 12th 1998
To Salt Aire with S and G to visit Titus Salt’s model worker’s village and also to see the Hockney exhibition. After we’ve been round the gallery we are in the bookshop which also houses some DH prints and paintings. It’s a grand affair thick with the smell of lilies in large vases surrounding glossy art books on antique tables.
Now because of their age, looks, sensibility and having been born less than 10 miles apart Bennett and Hockney are often confused for each other. In fact AB writes about this in one of his diaries; to show the similarities and make a joke of all this in gallery there is large photo of David and Alan sat next each other. Well while I was looking at the picture two retired ladies amble up and in a stage whisper one of them says to other
“Ooh look he’s there with that Alan Bennett, ya do know he’s one of those gays as well?”
“Ooh, his not is he? How d’ya know “ her friend replies
“Ooh, int it obvious, haven’t ya heard him talk”.
So there you go Alan mistaken for a tramp and a lisping Larry Grayson clone in your own home county!
Have a Happy birthday and thanks for all your work (there I said it at last)
There’s a “down and out” in the Merrion Centre who owes you a drink.
Sunday, 11 May 2008
I been travelling on the east coast line for it seems like forever barring a few years after college when I found out what paying full fare meant and spent hours in purgatory on the National Express. I know the songs great but the reality was rubbish.
9 hours from London to Leeds next to a mad drunk, or some obsessive chubby gothish morrissey fan who kept stopping my tape walkman and forcing me to listen to her tapes, she seemed a little tightly wrapped so I let her until she wanted to share the gum I was already chewing…..
Or another time falling a sleep on the motorway and waking up an hour and half later in the same place. The worst time was coming down to London to live for the first time in my twenties suffering from I found later measles. It was high summer I was sweating more than the cheese sarnies and could hardly walk from the bus to Victoria train station so never again.
Now the train can be bad if like on Tuesday it’s late you’ve read the paper already, left your head phones at home but staring out the window proved enjoyable. The view changes with the years, in times past in mid summer England was clouded in stubble fires, last winter a haw frost turned it black and white; today it was primary colours in Yorkshire the woods on reclaimed mucks stacks were bright green like the freshest lettuce, blue bells blazed in the understory.
On the lowlands every other field was bright yellow with rape seed flowers. Other fields with charcoal black fresh from ploughing. Fields so large they could contain all of Deptford except not a soul was in sight. This does make the choice of a negative film a little perverse but I thought it looked good.
The music is by July Skies who are great an off shoot of the more folky epic 45 check them out you won’t regret it.
The train was mostly pleasant except for the incredibly posh girl across from me, she alternated reading the Mail in dramatic flicky way, with head tossing, ringing her boyfriend Simon or playing with her Jackie O sun glasses. She was most striking the scary symmetry of her face marred only by a large mole/spot on the end of her up swept nose; which probably plagued her more than it should. It would have been good to make a film of her but it would have been super super creepy, so I starred out the window. In the end we all got off the train at Kings Cross not quit like Whitsun Brides not even like Stephen Patrick but thankfully not like Bowie. No I got of the National Express train (oh the irony!) wandered down to the tube recharged my oyster and headed south.
Front cover picture of bold bloke with mobile phone something about bono and Africa
1st page Advert for a garden kids slide for £549.
Contents page picture of crap banksy graph plus funny cartoon about Dr who
Advert for a printer
Kathryn Flett talks about herself sorry Myleen Klaas I saw her (Ms Flett) the other day she was drinking gin and tonic probably.
Barry Humphries because he’s in that extended advert for Oliver on bbc1 plus something about royal girlfriends
Advert from a watch £235 with a potter’s wheel in it
Alan Cummings and his potty mouth x2
Advert for a car £28,985
Long piece about the bald bloke with Bono , Bono is starting to look rough like he’s been on bonfire. Not read the piece good luck to them if they get rid of 3rd world debt.
Ad for Boots half price deal
Advert for camera with picture of Taj Mahal which probably looks good on your camera phone mind
Pretentious kitchen ad no price if you have to ask….
Mobile broad band for £15 a month
Ad for shoes sold by someone I use to know who was a really good bloke who worked with bad lads and hopefully has made a killing from fancy shoes
Ad for Ireland
Ad for off road car £24,305 + £400 metallic paint
Long piece of tedious art by Banksy and mates whoop de doo
In middle of Banksy ad fro Beijing Olympics by credit card main selling point the exquisite body of a beach volley ball player
Some Chelsea donkeys selling a telly
An ad for blond people in Australia
A long piece on food being dead expensive picture makes food look grim
A bed ad no price if you have to ask….
Ad for lemon ice cream
Fashion spread for denim blond model in faded lomoesque polaroidy pics looks at camera in several of them
Multi ad page for sofas and beds, fires and conservatory including the place I got mine from in Camden
The same bloke wearing 5 Macs he looks bored
Ad for lightweight jacket to be worn by people 20 years older than the model who I fancy £14.99
Fashion pages My favourite outfit Erin Mulanney 31 she’s a buying director apparently her first job was strategic consultant how can you consult on something when you’ve never done owt she looks very happy and buys things all the time she’s wearing a white hat that if I wore it would make me look like a out of work wine critic,
James May from top gear’s garage it’s hard not to like some who likes London pride and folding bikes.
Joint ad car polish £12.95 window cleaner £12.95 (use just once a year!)
Feature on 9 decks chairs £43.50 -£3,147
Nigel Slater talks about himself sorry food this week makes a chervil omelette and doesn’t eat it ,eats nettles which I’ve done he likes them more than me.
Picture of cat to sell cat food free
Advert for my favourite brand of yogurt
Jay Rayner talks about himself sorry looks smug and has his dinner with a mate.
Advert for ice cream with unsubtle global warming theme
The usual dull wine page haven’t read it in years
Advert for chinos, floors, sofas and Marquees; what the chuff who wants a marquee I use to put them up and it was shit and a bit scary
Dan Pearson has recruited Nigella and Sarah Brown as his tree planting bitches for a cancer centre garden he’s designed that’ll be talking about himself then.
Ad for folding chairs £24.99
Ad for washing up liquid
Green page Lucy Siegel who dyed her hair brown to look greener; never read this page the worlds problems won’t be solved by shopping.
Car page Polly Vernon continues to talk about herself but always looks uneasy posing in pictures as if she’s not at home drinking and shopping all day. She looks trapped Polly get in the car and drive away you never wanted this life run girl run ,drive back to your granny’s old house back to old house, find your copy of chalet ballet school adventure, write your stories about brainy show jumpers and don’t worry about what the other girls think, drinking isn’t clever….sorry where was I.
Ad for yellow car £29134
Ad for pashmina £39.50 the model looks happy and is 20 years older then the one for jackets early on.
Ad for cushions £23.50!!
Ad for Ladders
Ad Pennine futons now look ‘ere son where I cums from a futon is a direction as in “ ere flower put ya futon on this trailer to stop it running away” that or pallet int back bedroom.
The horoscope: picture of old bloke can’t be bothered to find out who he is, my horoscope says I’m to marry Winona Ryder which is nice.
Dear Mariella talks about herself in the process of helping a deeply messed up person
Ad for Bose clock radio for people who like shopping more than music, I think they are about £300 quid to play tinny mp3 on, they are a bit shit really.
Back page an ad for eBay.
80 pages in total.
here's what sup if you type "observer book of planes" into yahoo picture search, it made me laugh.
Friday, 9 May 2008
I got an email from the latitude festival today, (I’m giving glasto a miss the mud last year sapped my will I’m going to Suffolk where it doesn’t rain!)
Now I know its more lardy dah and there will be some annoying “aspirational” things there that will grate (being told the name of the pig in your hot dog etc). But to use the term “you guys” twice in email isn’t a good start, it’s an annoying phrase especial when used by women. It’s become a sort of chatty collective noun for mixed sex groups, bouncy teethy women in polo shorts use it when you go white water rafting as do waiters in all bar one; it’s meant to be jolly and clubbable but it is just annoying. So bouncy annoying polo shirt wearers and their managers I’m not your friend, we are not all in this together just say “hello” and tell me what today specials are, bring the food quickly and carefully and you may get a tip if the “scampi count”* is high and the vinegar is in bottle not a jug.
Oh and no I don’t want a special eco hut at festival I have marvellous Austrian tent and Italian coffee maker already that I bought from a fancy camping shop so if you guys don’t mind I stick to guy ropes .
ps these myhab things why don’t they say “new for latitude this year special crappy huts for the sort of loud media types who voted for Boris Johnson and will happily talk all the way through Elbow’s set death is too good for them.....”
Definition of “scampi count”
It’s Saturday lunch your first pint is having the right effect washing away the last one from earlier this morning, someone else is having a bloody Mary (“for the vitamins”) your “home cooked” “mind love this ‘uns hot” food comes along, if you’ve done the right thing and ordered Nephrops Norvegicus and you can’t count the number of delish breadcrumbed treats in a quick glance than you have a “high scampi count”. If said young’s finest are in the low teens or even “in the five items or less queue” then the scampi count is very low and your hangover will continue past football focus, past some neurofen and will start to throb by the time David Tennant has done that twinkly thing he does, go home now and lie down oh and change locals.
PPs and down with those chalky peas they sometimes sell
Now on BLTP TV another chance to enjoy this classic post:
This is what I had to say in OCT about all this nothings changed but how sad it is that you fix a vote to get Robbie Williams on to gurn at the viewers. I was also pleased with the punning title. Oh and Michael Grade didn't show his face this morning to own up to the crimes committed.
Original post starts here.
"Michael Grade was having problems with what Fraud actually is on the Today programme, how about this Michael:
An Illegal activity of trying to conceal information intentionally for personal gain. Many frauds involving financial transactions are committed by business professionals, who use their knowledge and gained credibility to deceive customers
Or how about all of these
He was also trying to push the line that ITV weren’t trying to gain financial from running competitions fraudulently. I’m not totally sure but I believe intent only changes the severity of the sentence not the culpability; it’s the difference between manslaughter and murder for instance.
Let’s be clear ITV loved the huge dollops of free cash that came into the channel, they all got rich and didn’t care a jot about doing things properly. They held tens of meetings where editorial decisions were made and no one questioned whether fixing the competitions was wrong. The audience weren’t totally daft most people knew it was a lottery but enjoyed a flutter via text, with distant hope of a win and the chance to meet and Ant and Dec. The also enjoyed voting for their favourite celeb etc. which however vacouous the programme hardly a crime. The execs in charge didn’t care and committed fraud by deliberately fixing things. If your pay is liked to ratings and you take peoples money dishonestly in order to boost ratings it's a crime.
How would Michael Grades defence work at a village fete? How would you feel if you bought a tombola ticket and the organisers decided that the woman next to you might jump up and down that bit more when she won a bottle of pomagne?"
Thursday, 8 May 2008
Wednesday, 7 May 2008
Saturday, 3 May 2008
Thursday, 1 May 2008
Formal council elections are not the only way we can effect change, why not have a look at what Oxfam are doing to help people. Or choose another charity who need your help, maybe a local one or you can help in another way, if you’ve got professional skills these are often more useful than just a pair of hands, or you could ring up about that dumped car down your street, write to your MP about the 10% tax fiasco, plant some bulbs.
We can change the world one action at a time, one in every 100 person in the world is British so think on. You can start by offering to make the tea.