Monthly Archives: February 2006

Unemployed quiz

Are you unemployed, mentally-ill or just a masochist ? If so you probably watch daytime TV, and this quiz is for you:

How many Kitchen Directs are there ?
A> 12
B> 5
C> There’s only one

If you’ve got debts, mortgage arrears and even CCJs is it possible to still get a loan ?
A> No
B> Yes, and at very competative rates of interest

If you hurt yourself at work, maybe by slipping in the foyer or by falling off your lorry when you’re lacing the cover, how difficult is it to get compensation ?
A> You can’t
B> You can, but it’s difficult and probably very expensive
C> Just one phonecall to claims direct is all you need

What is the most annoying thing in the world ?
A> Harry Hastings
B> Barry Scott’s shouty voice
C> The dysfunctional, rubber Dolmio family
D> The theme music from “This Morning”
E> That old puncher who’s going to “do that equity release thing”

The Purple people have helped thousands of people. But how ?
A> Helped them buy new cars
B> Improve their homes
C> Consolidate debts into managable chunks
D> All of the above

Which of the following are a bit like that in life ?
A> A great big onion
B> A piece of shit
C> Tidying up the garden can seem like hard work, but it’s great when it’s all done.

The pop must die

Pop music faded away about 20 years ago. Few noticed because the decline was so slow, but it went. The music (nee record) industry, clearly miffed, did what they could to keep the corpse alive but merely prolonged the agony for a year or so too long.

But despite the rotted, purulent, body of pop being left to decay on the pavement of history, we may still observe the weathered, senile form of the industry blowing just enough air into its lungs to keep the heart going for as long as there are a few coppers to be squeezed from its rancid flesh.

The Brits: an annual celebration by the British music industry of themselves. Realising that pop is dead they made the clever assessment that if they themselves can cling on to the past, so can the rest of the over 30s. Anyone who grew up with a “top 40” or two, and with regular national, weekly, worship, in the form of top of the pops will happily hang onto the dream to keep themselves from feeling old. The BBC have been wondering what Top of the Pops have been doing wrong for the past few years, with the tragic belief that they just haven’t found the new “hip” thing the current generation like. They’re missing the point! There are no valid charts any more, so the entire concept is dead.

The record industry reluctantly acknowledged the truth a while ago and, after a trial period of “stealth marketing”, plumped for the most cunning plan of all: market to the sad old gits that still believe in “the pops”. They listen to a million bands a week and shovel the derivative, safe, ones, that sound like they may have that elusive quality “edge”, off to lucrative record deals tied-in with TV adverts, PA’s and interviews with Richard and Judy, Top of the Pops (now on the menopause slot of Monday evening, BBC2) and even the news! This way they manage to sell them to the sad old farts who still want to think of themselves as “on the scene”.

Everyone over 25 sneakily thinks they’ve discovered something young and cool! They then go out and buy the CD…because, being over 25, they still think you need to buy music…

Punk was supposed to have caused the biggest shift in the pop world ever. But what’s going on at the moment makes it look like skiffle. Sadly, if you’re over 25 you’ll be too busy listening to the modern day versions of Stock, Aitken, and Watercloset, like the Kaiser Cheifs, Franz Ferdinand, Katie Melua, Jack Jackjacksonjack or whatever his fucking name is, and any band with the word “boys” in the title.

Take your David Grey, Coldplay, Stereophonics, K.T.Turnstile. and shove them up your arse with your parents collection of Phil collins and Dire Straights. Don’t worry, we’ll all be dead soon.
Forgot to slag off Hard-Fi and Arctic Monkeys

Bed Fascism

Do you know someone who is a “bed nazi” ? Someone who has dispensed with etiquette, duvet sharing and altruism in the bed in favour of total bed domination ? Michele and I have many discussions about which one of us is the biggest bed fascist, and in the course of these debates we have attempted to list all of the biggest bed nazis in the history of the world:

  • Bedolph Hitler (author of “Mein Bed”)
  • Bedito Mussameanie
  • Papa Doc Duvet
  • Beddam Hussein
  • General Pillowchet
  • Robert Mugabed

If we’ve missed any then please let me know. Occasionally acts of duvet terrorism occur resulting in zero coverage or worse. Some of the worst duvet terrorists include:

  • Abu Bedza
  • Ossama Bed Laden
  • The Talibed

Do you know any more ?

sorry…crap post…

Brutal murder

They say that killing gets easier the more you do it. Well if my recent mouse massacre is anything to go by then that expression is utter bollocks. We’re in a constant battle to keep the mice out of our flat and yes we’ve tried humane traps. Since moving in here we’ve slain five of the furry little things and caught one, which we released and probably killed soon after he returned. If you’ve never had mice then you’re either very lucky or just wrong. They manifest themselves as a tiny flash in your peripheral vision…did I really see anything or was it some fluff in my eye ? The golden rule, as explained my grandmother-in-law, is “if you thought you saw one, you did”.
But these ones have started getting cocky. They slowly walk across the room in front of you while you’re watching the telly. It’s like they call out “Evening! Don’t mind me, I’m just off to the kitchen for a snack. And to be honest I could do with a poo so I’ll kill two birds with one stone.”

Finding one caught in the trap is bad enough, but twice now I’ve heard the trap shut and found the poor, beautiful little thing trapped by his neck, twitching. So what could I do ? Both times I’ve had to smash him with the dust brush to put him out of his misery and it’s doing my head in.

Last night was the second occurence of this and it really bummed me out. But less than two hours later, as I was sitting watching Father Ted, another mouse slowly walked by where I was sitting and I swear I heared him say “Careful mr tough guy, we know where you live” in a squeaky Brooklyn accent.

About a year ago, Zap and I decided to try and write a sitcom about a computer helpdesk. We made a crap start but it never got further than about half an episode. Imagine how overjoyed we were to see The IT crowd….A comedy about an IT support team. Especially as it’s written by Graham Linehan and really funny. Satan pisses in my consommé once again.

Bronchial Mucus

For the last week I have been busy generating mucus, coughing until I puke, and feeling like death. The doc described it as “acute bronchitis”, but I called it a right pain in the bollocks. Being a bloke I knew that I had lung cancer, a brain tumor and beri-beri but dealt with it in a mature and stable way, as my wife will concur.
After four days of being able to do nothing but hurt myself coughing and soak everything within a 10ft radius with sweat, I went to the quack who managed to sort me out with some wonder pills he called “anti-biotics”. Blimey, these things are incredible. Like the rest of my family, including my wife, I am allergic to penicillin. Until recently this has meant not getting any medication to fight infections. Well, that’s not entirely true. The doc used to give me a choice of pills:

  • Little pills that were about as much good as a chocolate teapot.
  • Little pills that were about as much good as a chocolate teapot but also gave me severe stomach cramps and even worse wind than normal

. But these new ones seemed to sort me out in a matter of hours. When you’re really ill it always feels like you’ll never ever feel well again, a feeling which is worsened by the affect of daytime TV, and so when you do perk up it’s quite an uplifting experience.

The news did nothing to lift my spirits either. In the same week that Nick “motherfucker” Griffin and his weasel mate got found not guilty of inciting race-hate (ironically, by getting caught inciting race-hate) the whole of islam has mobilized in a mission to demonstrate that they are in fact the bunch of intolerant fascist psychos that the right had been accusing of them of being for a long while. Well done guys, the membership department of the BNP will have been super busy this week.

You see, it’s not the minority of nutjobs with their “destroy Europe in the name of muslim peace” banners that upset me, it’s the mainstream people who normally provide the acceptable face of Islam. They’re quietly and clamly arguing for a peacful banning of cartoons that may cause offence…

Cartoons are supposed to be offensive!, Over the years I have spent a huge proportion of my time laughing at cartoons that prick the pomposities of politics (right and left), religion and just about everythign else. Many of them criticise me and my beliefs, sometimes making me rethink stuff…although more usually reinforcing my original opinions.

If George Bush attempted to ban political cartoons that may cause offence to god-fearing white nazis I would not be at all surprised…likewise I would be violently angry. But now that Islam has demanded something similar the reaction of the left has been very reserved. Oh dear, our brothers and sisters who opposed the war with us are suggesting things that are a little bit..un PC. There’s no section in the “bluffers guide to middle-class guilt” on this one! What shall we do ?

In a wonderful mixed metaphor on BBC News, some London muslim cleric or other said

“yes, but freedom ends where my nose begins.”

Look, I’m an atheist. I don’t care if you want to believe in Jesus, Mohammed, or the Jolly Green Giant, just don’t try and fuck around with my rights, and I won’t try to fuck around with yours.

The main argument I have for not reprinting those cartoons is that they’re a bit crap and not very funny…but I’m not going to be blowing myself up over it.