31st May 2005
Utterly bloody ridiculous
I have copped an attitude today. Upon returning to the People's Republic of Wigan, I couldn't make out which way my day would go. I'd started looking through the jobs boards again and became severely down about my status. 36, nothing to show for it, unemployed, living with his 80 year grandmother. I looked at a job in Manchester - they wanted a CV and a presentation as to why you were the right candidate for the job. Two years ago, I would have busted out the Powerpoint with a passion. Mad marketing skillz would have been deployed and I'd have been so enthusiastic you would probably have vomitted. Today, I look at the Powerpoint icon and gag. How do sell yourself when your self-esteem has been blown away? You just can't. Whatever you write has loser written in between every line. Since leaving Uni, I appear to have done absolutely nothing right and am now reaping the rewards.
Anyway, once I had decided that today is not a good day to market myself, I went over to Al Beeb where I read a report of a woman who tried to sue Imperial Tobacco because of her husband's death from lung cancer. At the bottom of that report is a reference to the fact that smoking will be banned in public places in Scotland next year. I don't know why, but that was when the attitudenal copping started. For feck's sake people. Get off the smokers. You know what I find offensive? People who chug gallons of Coca Cola day in day out. I don't want to ban it in public places, even though you only need the IQ of a lettuce to know that the stuff is pure evil. Us smokers know that it's bad for us. We're hammered everywhere we go. £5 a pack. Second class citizens. Stand outside. I'm just about bloody sick of it. The PC holier than thou brigade can eat my bloody shorts. If you don't smoke, I won't smoke in your house or car - fair enough. But if I'm paying good money to have a pint, I'll be buggered if you tell me I can't have a smoke with that pint.
To be honest, the West is rapidly disappearing up its own coca-cola inflated backside and I've had enough. The bloody nannying and preaching that goes on by governments is sickening. What the hell is next?
You know what? The exhaust fumes that your fucking car kicks out as you drive the two miles to work are just as lethal, but golly, let's not cite that as a carcenogen because the economy would crumble. Hypocritical twats. If everyone in the UK stopped smoking tomorrow, the economy bloody would crumble and your taxes would spike.
Grrr, I need to step away from the keyboard before I explode.
And the first dickhead who leaves a comment saying that smokers are a drain on the NHS will be 403'd into the next life, complete with a pack of filterless woodbines.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 15:14 BST
Back to reality
Well, I must confess that the weekend was absolutely brilliant. I think I can honestly say that I have not laughed as much since I got back to the UK. One thing that I really missed being in the US was my friends back here, and I didn't really make an effort to keep in touch all that frequently. No matter, as Karen said, it's like we last saw each other a week or so ago, not eight years ago.
There was a bit of a barby broke out yesterday afternoon. It's always a tad problematic when 6 of the eight attendees are vegetarians but the Wart did us proud by supplying one of the best rib-eye steaks I have ever had the pleasure to ingest.
At one point I felt a bit guilty about having a good time. It soon passed when I calibrated it with the rest of my current lot in life. I'll take my laughs where I can get them nowadays.
I'm a bit sad to be back to be honest. The York contingent are top people, but they're a tad addictive too. If you spend a weekend with them, you never ever feel like leaving. And I'm not too sure the Wart's missus would appreciate me moving in. Just kidding Louise.
I'd better check whether I took any photos...it seemed a criminal waste of time to be photographing the event rather than just submerging yourself in utter gastric and Shiraz heaven.
Anyway, 'cos all the cool kids are doing it, you may ask me a question or two. I'll pre-empt the first by stating categorically that I am not a librarian (I love the use of that term.) Oh and I'm not talking to the Sniffer of Cakes anymore. She'd sooner take her sister to watch Tori than take me. Harumph.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 13:12 BST
30th May 2005
Bugger me
I've just discovered that Karen's daughter has a blog too. Apparently you need to be invited to view it. But hell's bells, she's a funny one. To think, prior to my return to the UK, she was all of four when I last saw her. And now she's all clever and adult and stuff. But I have had to lecture her on the perils of blue wicked. Vodka mixers and sixteen year olds do not mix.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 20:02 BST
Les Francais a dit "non"
Oh, the joy. The French have voted "non" to the EU. They can carry on striking now without the rest of Europe telling them to pull their bloody finger out.
One of the journalists on BBC News 24 just used the phrase "France were one of the founding fathers of the EU." I threw up a little. And then a lot. And now Karen's keyboard no longer works.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 12:16 BST
Pictures, at last
As promised, but 24 hours later than anticipated, a few of the piccies from Friday:
The venue, Peckforton Castle in Cheshire
Martin and Debs - very Liam Gallagher n'est-ce pas?
Aren't they lovely?
Debs with her usual tipple
My sister in law and the bride
The Best Man, whose art is currently on display at Leigh Library
Just to prove that I scrub up quite well
And just because it's a great shot, Debs and random sproggage
I'll see what I can do with the other million or so pictures that I have. I may do an album like I did for my brother's wedding.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 11:30 BST
29th May 2005
Where the hell did the weekend go?
Bloody hell. It's Sunday already. Thankfully in the UK we have these random bank holidays that extend the weekend by a day or so. Such is this weekend.
The wedding that I went to on Friday was absolutely fantastic. It was performed in an old castle in Peckforton in Cheshire (I know, a tad South - I got a nose bleed being so far darn Sarf). I must have got a tad carried away with the camera. Yesterday saw me downloading 120 pictures. I'd post a few but Nev's wireless network discriminates against my PC, which is a tad rich really seeing anyone in York could hook up to his network (What can I say? He went to Uni with me; he's not that bright.)
Anyhoo, back to the wedding. Only Deb could pull off getting married in black, and she did it wonderfully. Martin was in black too but somehow he doesn't carry it quite as well. I can say that safe in the knowledge that he is on a plane to Asia at this moment in time. They're going doing some diving gubbins; don't ask me...exercise? Ack. Oscar Wilde summed it up perfectly. I would do anything to regain my youth except get up early and take exercise.
I have some absolutely stunning photos from the wedding. I must have come over all artsy on Friday because I have shocked myself. The LCD on the camera ist gebrocken so I was winging it like we used to have to prior to digital cameras. In fact, there is one picture that is so good, I will do battle with El Nevulus's wireless network so that I can post it here. Check back in a couple of hours...
Ug. Karen's dirty vimto is lethal. Never ever let Karen pour you a drink. I think I might have to go back to bed. And what's worse is that she insists on sleeping in. I expected tea and toast half an hour ago. Instead I have kids jumping on me and I need to make my own God damned tea. You just can't get the hostesses nowadays. Very poor.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 08:37 BST
28th May 2005
Dirty Vimto
This is a guest post...By Karen
Ha - this is really funny I can write what ever I like...........
Did you know when we were teenagers Kenny would borrow my eye liner - I know, what a girl, he also spent so much time doing his hair it fell out.
No really he's a top bloke.....
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 21:11 BST
26th May 2005
Yates breaks Yates's law rule number one
The only kind of gardening I like is pottering around doing window boxes and pots. So why, today, have I been mowing and creosoting? Why?
And why has it taken decades to realise that creasote is feckin' lethal?
I'm off now. I may see you over the weekend, I may not. Have a good un, and if you find yourself caught in a quandry, ask yourself "what would Yatesy do in this situation?" If it's totally self-indulgent, Yatesy would go for it and so should you.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 18:01 BST
I've been a bad, bad boy
Tasked with investigating peer to peer software, by New Co, for the transferral of images and programs around the planet without having to stump up for a dedicated ftp server or oodles of disk space, I set out to see if there was anything I could find. I found a few nice little packages, but they gave you a Gig of free space and thereafter it was moet spondoolies per month for extra disk space. We require literally about 500Gb.
Anyway, as I was firkling around, my attention-deficient mind thought to Kazaa Lite, which literally reminded me of all the good CDs that I left in the US and am now bereft of. So off I went at a tangent trying to track down some Tori Amos that I haven't got here. I remembered that Tina had mentioned being a Tori fan and assaulted her comments demanding that she email me so I could extort some MP3s from her. But having done that, another mind shift occured and it struck me that I could download Kazaa Lite. My missus used to use it on her PC, but it always confused the hell out of me. Not put off by the seemingly daunting user interface, I downloaded it and installed. And hey presto, within minutes, I was in with the cool kids downloading shit like there was no tomorrow. Well, I bet the cool kids don't know what ports to open up on their firewalls, so I must be cooler.
I spent yesterday evening being remarkably organised. I have a wedding to attend tomorrow you see and then I am being whisked up to York chez Henderson for the weekend to see my old Uni mate Nevulus Carrollerus, his missus (the Wart's sister), their extensive collection of offspring and probably the Wart himself (I only go to his for the food.) Anyhow, I polished my shoes like a marine - spit and polish. You could use them in the Hubble telescope they are that bloody spotless. I polished my cufflinks. I ironed and starched my shirt and under-shirt. I even ironed my damned underwear and socks for the occasion. I have yet to decide upon a tie. I apparently left all my favorites in the US along with a lot of my favorite CDs. I was going to get my hair cut but I had a fiver; packet of cigs or haircut? My lack of will-power won and I can smoke whenever I God damned feel like it. Well, at least until I run out. I'm all for the immediate gratification and haircuts just don't do it, no matter how cute the hairdresser is.
Anyway, peer to peer investigation for New Co is now on hold as I download MP3s like a madman. If you want your shoes polishing or ironing done, just wave a pack of Silk Cut Silver in front of me.
I have exactly tuppence in my pocket now. How the hell is that going to get me through a wedding and a weekend? We'll see. Look for rent-boy prosecutions in Chester and York over the weekend.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 13:33 BST
25th May 2005
Scouse victory
I must offer an apology to Liverpool fans. I watched the first half and switched over. I'd done with feeling bad about football for the season, and from the performance in the first half, why would I torture myself with another 45 minutes?
As CSI ended and whatever started, I heard the car-horns start blaring. Over to my beloved laptop, teapot, to check the scores and bugger me sideways with a root vegetable; the buggers had won on penalties.
I'm sorry I didn't hold the faith. But I'm made up that you won. Now the argument as to whether you compete next year. You should do. It's only right.
Here endeth the scouse empathy.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 22:57 BST
Call me prudy McPrude
Off we go again. Pupils study sex in soap operas. The kids in question are aged between 11 and 14.
Interesting soundbites from the enlightened tree-hugger who was interviewed and the commentary:
"We are not collaring kids and making them watch Footballers' Wives or pornography."
One in the same? Very "a la Desperate Housewives".
None of the content dealt with will be that shown after the 9pm watershed, before which excessive swearing, violence or sexually explicit content is banned.
Watershed? Don't make me chortle like a schoolgirl. At 6:30 every night on channel 4 we are subject to Holyoaks. Does it get any more verbally explicit than that? STDs, pregnancies, wanton whoring and general shagging around. We might as well not have a watershed.
If Triple Adverb et al want a "respect" society, we need to start with some standards in the media. In Northern bloke fashion, when I were a lad, at 8:00pm we'd watch The Bill where the police went and caught "villuns" not The Bill as it is now; it's current subtitle should be "less crime, more nooky, just like the Home Secretary likes it". In a battle in which no shot is too low, the BBC, ITV, Sky etc. are battling for how "soap-real" they can make TV, which apparently is a measure directly proportional to ratings. I don't know about you, but if I have a choice of watching Desperate Housewives, Footballer's Wives or a re-run of Frost, I'll take Frost any day. But maybe I'm not the average viewer.
Given this little project, let's see how long it is before kids are expected to study the tabloids in order to hone them into interpreting the media.
"Billy, what did you learn from yesterday's press?"
"Well sir, I learned that some tits are saggier than others (ref pages 3 and 7) and that some ho-bag from one of the reality TV shows wants to get it on with Britney and her husband (ref page 15 - center spread)."
"Well done Billy. I see you picked up on what the paper uses to sell its wares. Advanced marketing for you next semester."
Jesus H Christ.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 16:45 BST
Yates muscles in on ID card debate
I'm a bit bemused by the backlash against compulsory ID cards. While I'm sure the Tories disagree with their introduction to attract the dissenters, why the average man in the street disagrees is beyond my ken.
I think they are a damned fine idea. In the US, you need to have a driver's license or state ID card. Do the Americans find that too much? No, even the rabid ACLU don't kick up a fuss. Here in the UK, if you drive you need a license, if you look too young to be served alcohol you need an ID card. It really was only a matter of time before the advent of a nationally recognised, government sanctioned ID card.
I've been baiting one of the local clowns councellors on the Ashton BBS. As far as I am concerned, this chap falls nicely into my category for paranoid black-helicopter fearing conspiracy theorists. I call this category fuckwits.
If national government really is a masonic institution with a secret agenda, then they're a pretty crap organization. They've had years to accomplish their evil plan (whatever it may be) and presumably failed, so are they continuing with their next strategy to inflict whatever it is they want to inflict on us, the mere mortal man in the street? Are they hell.
Freedom is relative. In the West, we flaunt the idealogy that "better ten guilty men go free than one innocent be convicted" -- bollocks. A noble aim, no doubt but entirely idealistic. There are people sat in prison cells right now across the world who are innocent, some who probably would be free had DNA testing been available at the time of their conviction. The world is not perfect and we need to mitigate against wrongful conviction as much as we need to track potential threats. What better way than to have an ID card? People with nothing to fear will carry theirs without a problem. Criminals probably will not.
I have absolutely no objection to having my biometrics stored on a chip. What earthly use is a scan of my iris or fingerprint to the government other than to verify my identity? Given I'm not planning on robbing a bank in the near future (although if the job market stays the way it is, I might have to revisit that) or become a radical fundamentalist religious fanatic, I'm comfortable that my iris scan will sit occupying some disk space somewhere in Whitehall, only to be accessed when back-ups are done.
Now my good friend Peter Franzen over on the Ashton BBS has listed all his concerns and were I a paranoid axe-murderer, I might sympathise with him. I can't say that any of the points he lists make me want to run for my security blanket and start sucking dummies again. It's life Peter; get over it.
If there's anyone prepared to own up to being a moonbat, by all means tell me in my comments why an ID card is such a threat to your life and liberty. I look forward to an educated discourse on the subject, although if you read this muck...
Damn, I woke up with an opinion. I will now go lay back down and pretend it's breakfast time again.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 10:20 BST
24th May 2005
<rant>
Well I have spent yet another day multi-tasking, swapping twixt working on New Co's website and applying for more conventional jobs. My toll for the last week is close to 200 applications, from working at the local bakery to business development roles for multi-nationals. The sum total of all my travaille? One rejection email, two phone calls from agencies (only one of which who knew their arse from their elbow) and a couple of requests for more information. Were I running a marketing campaign, I would herald it the worst ever in the history of crappy marketing campaigns and commit ritual suicide.
I have been networking comme un mo-fo too. I have emailed virtually every contact I have ever made in business with a custom template communication requesting any leads that they might have while trying hard not to sound like desperation personified.
I feel like Yozzer.
I am so zapped, I can hardly even be bothered looking at the computer. But I will persevere as the alternative is Holby City which would surely drive me over the edge.
I may do some cleaning up on my links until I can become lecherous at nine, when CSI graces the TV. Feel free to go about your business. If I am still this powfagged tomorrow morning, I may take up coffee again. And after that, it's onto the hard stuff. Bye bye Silk Cut, hello Capstain Full Strength.
I promise I won't say any more until I get the mojo back.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 19:57 BST
Camera phone confusion
I am currently using a borrowed Nokia 7250i as my cell phone. I took this photo the other night...
Jumping turd or stationary frog?And before anyone starts telling me about the holes in the session control stuff down there, I know them. I told you it was cheap and cheerful.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 10:00 BST
23rd May 2005
Not so young, not so gifted but definitely skint
One of two things happens to me without a decent sedative at this time of night. I either retire with my beloved cryptic crossword book or novel and don't sleep. Or, I start thinking and then sleep.
For example, I got bored with writing code today and decided to read some academic papers on vision. The idea was that it was background reading so I could frame a technical white paper that I will need to write in the not so distant future. Unfortunately, such is my self-discipline, I ended up spending hours reading all there was to be read in the public domain.
I can guarantee that as I lay down this evening, my head will be spinning, working on ways to improve what I have read today, and contrasting it to what we are doing with New Co. Sad. I may share my thoughts with you, unless you behave.
Listen up peeps. I have at least a couple of more days of deep concentration prior to Thursday night's Murphy's Law (huzzah!) and Friday's wedding (huzzah!). You don't want me to start giving tutorials on PHP do you? Or image analysis? No. I thought not. So send me Shiraz. You can email me for delivery details. Or just tell me when to pitch up in th'Oddies.
I promise I'll try tomorrow. Honest guv.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 23:21 BST
Small technical aside
I've been working on the website for the start-up I hope to be joining today. I'd put it temporarily on a subdomain of yatescentral as the current hosting service for the company domain don't provide PHP or MySQL. At the request of the boys, I put password protection on the site while it's under development so only the relevant parties could see what was happening as it evolves.
My first thought was that I would use session control to authenticate. Off I went to knock something up.
It's dead simple, but as the releases of PHP have come and gone, session_register has been depracated. It has been replaced with the use of $_SESSION['varname']="value"; -- this enables the use of global variables.
So in order to authenticate, your login form script would look something like this:
session_start();
while (list($key, $val) = each($HTTP_POST_VARS))
{
$$key = $val
}
// Check username against password
if ( $user.isright && $password.isright )
{
$_SESSION["user"]=$user;
}
else
{
// Throw error
}
Now, we have a session variable that is available.
So for each protected page, you would include the following lines at the top of the file:
session_start();
include "auth.php";
And have a simple file that checks that the session is still current:
// auth.php
if ( ! $_SESSION["user"] )
{
echo "Error - You've been 403'd";
exit(1);
}
Simple eh? Well it is and it's cheap and cheerful.
The problem with this solution is that PHP sessions timeout depending on what your PHP config files say, and there's little you can do to over-ride those settings if you use a hosting company.
As it happens, my security problem is only a temporary one. When I start implementing security in a more serious manner, this method will be useless because of the timeout. The way to do it is using a cookie where you can set your own timeouts. I know you'll be peeing yourself waiting for how to use the cookie method; I'll post it here when I get around to doing it.
Ah well, we live and learn.
Sorry for the formatting - the indents are hard to get right...you get the picture don't you? Of course you do.
Normal blogging will now resume.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 20:30 BST
22nd May 2005
The welfare state
It's a god damned marvel it is. I was going to take a picture of my literal last penny alongside my literal last cigarette but decided it would make my computer die with salt-water. And I'd probably have an inclination to burgle next door, which is never a good thing. So I didn't.
The great British welfare state is serving me well. Not. Being a native, I cannot claim anything even though I have years of stamp payments. I cannot access my pension funds to offset the fact that I cannot claim any benefits. I couldn't claim anything in America, having paid into their system for years.
I really do wish that I was an asylum seeker. Hell, if I'd produced a Croatian passport, I'd have been kitted up with a house, benefits and an invite to the local CAP surgery within seconds. But no. Too British. The system isn't geared up to help those that have worked for the majority of their lives.
I'm off to smoke my last cigarette, covet my last penny and wish plagues on all the European bastards who are now subsidised quite nicely through the money that I paid during the years I lived here, paying the highest tax rate there is/was. And America, I hope you can find it in my tax returns to give my missus something of what I paid into your system.
Socialism my arse.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 23:42 BST
Underwhelmed
I take it you weren't blown away by the pictures of the boys soldering things? I know it was a camera phone, but gees people, that is excitement at its very best.
Maybe if we started a product naming contest? Or a catchy tag line?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 11:26 BST
21st May 2005
Ob - FA Cup
Robbed. We outclassed, we outplayed, we lost.
Anyone who leaves any gloating comments to this will have their IP banned. And I mean it.
And my good Christ, what the hell is up with British TV? The bloody Eurovision Song (sic) Contest, The frickin' Systine Chapel (or however you spell it), some shite about the the national lottery and a load of old other bollocks. I fucking hate Saturdays, especially this one.
I'd give my left bollock for a bottle of wine and a CSI DVD.
Remember, there is a deadly serious IP ban ready for the first dickhead who thinks they're funny.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 19:45 BST
20th May 2005
Memes R US (again)
Dang.
Trillion just had to pass this vile infection on to me. Go read her post for the rules, my cutting and pasting days are long behind me. That said, here goes...
If I could be an innkeeper...I'd keep the inn all to myself.
If I could be a fighter-pilot...Skelmersdale would have had it by now.
If I could be a domestic engineer...pigs would be seen soaring at 30,000 feet.
If I could be a research scientist...I'd have to know way more chemistry than I do. Ain't happening.
If I could be a librarian...I'd wear my hair up in a bun and then provocatively release my glossy curly locks once an hour. I have a few logistical problems with this; wrong sex, no hair etc. but I like the image.
My additions...
If I could be a diva...
If I could start a war...
If I could snog an actress...
Hell, I have to nominate now. When did we start playing University Challenge? OK. Tag. Karen, Pam and Luminary one, you're it(s).
I consider my duty discharged.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 14:12 BST
Never, ever let techies run a business
Planning session from yesterday:
Preliminary discussions. Actions:
CBJ to complete plan and do financials.
AY to complete marketing materials, branding, website, distributed IT infrastructure.
(90 mins)
"Now, shall we get this thing reassembled then? Is that aroldite and blue tac? Excellent, but it needs to function upside down. Rubber band anyone? Should be working in about 20 minutes."
We set about reassembling the thing, only it wouldn't work. If I never see a "Error 06" again in my life it will be too soon.
First off, the connector on the PCB seemed a bit dodgy:
Take it to bits.
Have a quick butcher's.
Touch up solder.
Reassemble.
Bugger. Error 06.
What about that cable?
A ground short? Whodathunkit?
After many hours of scratching our heads, soldering, multi-metering, soldering pins, inspecting joints, rewiring cables, filing things, things dropping off and being reattached, and the threat of breaking out the oscilliscope the display said:
Error 06.
"I think we've broken it lads. We'd better buy another one. We can probably get one by Tuesday."
The most fun you can have with your clothes on.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 12:28 BST
18th May 2005
It's official
Operation Kerching begins tomorrow. Have you noticed how all operations are named after the goal? Infinite Justice? Desert Storm?
Anyway, I'll be out of blogging commission for at least a day if not more.
Kerching.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 17:14 BST
Question
If you're being held at gun-point, and you have a choice of the police arriving at 159mph or at 99mph, I wonder which one you would choose?
I thought so.
Idiots.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 16:01 BST
It's like waiting for a bus
I don't think I have mentioned this before. Many moons ago, back in the days where I had a job, a home, a family around me etc., me and the boys who started our last company were tinkering around with an idea. Upon the demise of our previous positions, we resurrected that idea and started working to bring it into reality. I say "we" - I mean two were working on development, and I did some applications work and wrote a bit of code to generate reports. We've had our prototype installed in a factory in Birmingham for a while. It proved a big hit.
The problems that we had were the usual insurance and contractual problems. Well, it appears that we will have ink on paper in the next couple of days and the time has come to put the band back together in some form. We'll meet in the next couple of days and map out a plan. Yee-ha. A British plan. Not a corporate US bullshitathon. A proper plan that assumes people will do their jobs and then some. Where people are not boxed into a single function. Where you are as likely to see the developers selling a system as you are to see the marketing people writing code. An empowered organization with gritty determination and thirst for success. An organization that prides itself on customer service and will pull out all the stops to make sure they are satisfied. In short, not an American public company. A limited English company, privately held for as long as we want it to be.
We've yet to get anywhere near a plan. I'm not even sure we can be paid yet (I hate accounting and haven't seen the whole financial model yet) and if not, when we will be paid. But I don't care.
If this is like waiting for a bus, I can take the first one that comes along and then maybe get off half way as the desired bus catches up. I can work infrastructure and/or code in the evenings and hold down a job as well until the time is right.
I'm literally bouncing off the walls with energy at the prospect of working with these people again. I'm salivating at the thought of getting stuck in and doing those 20+ hour days that start-ups demand. Screw you EU and your 48 hour weeks. You do what it takes.
Roll on the inaugoral meeting of the next generation. You can keep a good man down, but you can't keep four good men down. I tell ya, you could put us on the pitch at the Millenium Stadium against an eleven man Arsenal and we'd at least force a draw.
Did I mention I was excited? Oh, okay, I did. Well I am.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 12:39 BST
17th May 2005
More blogrolliciousness
A couple more to add to the increasing number of UK bloggers.
Trillion who has finally got to grips with the shite that is blogger.
Blighty Blog who has a peculiarly clear insight into the condition that is known as being British.
I'm off out for lunch with Alfred the OK in a few minutes. If your ears are burning, yes you did inappropriately use a semi-colon.
Update: And April now she's switched from that crap MSN thing. And she's being given honorary Brit status, even though I'm spelling like a yank for some reason today.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 11:15 BST
Galloway to be probed by senate
That paragon of British politics, George Galloway, will today face the senate over allegations that he took options to buy oil from Iraq at reduced prices in return for backing the relaxation of sanctions on Iraq.
Recently he sued the Telegraph and won £500,000 for similar allegations.
Not so fast ya slimeball. First off, the Telegraph have been given permission to appeal the ruling. Secondly, the senate will be a completely different kettle of fish. You may arrive in Washington with a smile on your face lauding the fact that you will be turned from accused to accuser within nanoseconds, but I suspect you'll leave with your tail between your legs and a wounded spaniel demeanor. You see, in George Galloway's perverted mind, he honestly believes that he will turn the tables on the senate and suddenly convince them that it is the US and UK governments who were in the wrong with respect to the invasion of Iraq. It strikes me that playing switch and bait with the US government is a pretty stupid thing to do.
A couple of things Georgie-boy. The vast majority of the US population will never have heard of you so will care not a jot if you get ripped a new one. For the same reason, the US population will not listen to a word you say (and well they shouldn't.)
George Galloway is an obsequious, immoral, unprincipled bounder. And a cad. I hope he ends up in Gitmo. Shame on the idiot Southerners who elected him and his ridiculous party in whatever hovel in London in which he stood.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 09:25 BST
16th May 2005
You couldn't make this up
I can identify Piano man. It's my old mate Steve Power. London must have taken its toll on him. I'm surprised about the music though. I would have thought he would have been thrashing out C++ to a Kylie beat.
Steve Power, yesterday
Pianoman, Skipton
And while we're on the subject of doppel-gangers. I have another. Which of these is Conners and which is John O'Shea?
O'Shea, yesterday
Conners, today
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 18:09 BST
Gloom, thy residence is Bryn
To add to what is transpiring to be a spectacularly shite day, I have just snapped a tooth in half. "Ouch - that must have hurt?" you say. "No it didn't." It just so happens it is the tooth that I had a root canal done on a few years ago, so the nerve endings long ago died.
Beam me up.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 15:02 BST
To Charles Dunstone (Carphone Warehouse)
Dear Sir,
I purchased a Nokia 1100 from your store in Warrington in early February. At the start of this month, the battery failed to charge so I returned it on May 5th.
I expected to be issued with a new a battery, however the sales clerk insisted that it needed to be sent away to be "repaired." I enquired about a loan phone and was told that I would be required to pay a deposit of £50. No chance.
The clerk then took all my details and explained that the phone would be away for 14 days. As she was doing this, she asked for my mobile number at which point I pointed at the dead phone she was boxing. When I told her my land line number, she asked me whether it was a BT number and went into a sales spiel. Shameless.
Finally, just before I left the shop, I asked her to put in a good battery. She did so and hey presto, the phone worked. But it still needed to be sent away for "repair" since if I was given a battery, she would have had a phone she could not sell.
Today, the 16th, I called to find out the status of the "repair" and was told that it had been sent to Nokia today (11 days sat on a shelf.)
I called the customer care line who agreed with all the sales clerk's actions, calling them "policy."
Finally, I asked why it was that I was not just given a new battery or phone. The answer was that it might not be the battery, it might be the charging mechanism on the phone.
I have worked in the SMT industry for many years. If the charging mechanism was going to fail, it would typically be an early life failure. And contrary to your customer advice line, Nokia would not "repair" such a fault as it is not cost-effective. The phone would be scrapped - have you ever tried to rework 0201s?
All in all, I have been totally underwhelmed by the shoddy business practices, flagrant salesmanship, lack of customer service and, for the most part, utter lies about how phones are "repaired."
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 14:22 BST
Spleen meet blog
There's nothing quite so cathartic as pathos. I rarely vent my spleen on here with anything other than a dose of acerbity or a teaspoon of sarcasm, but this is coming right from the gut.
If you have worked exactly one month in your span of nearly eighty years on the planet and then stopped because you didn't like it, you have no fucking right to give me careers advice.
When asked whether I had any interesting email this morning, I started to respond "Yes, but" but was interrupted with "beggars can't be choosers." Cue fusion at room temperature. If you'd have fucking listened to what I was about to say, you would not have uttered those words. What the caveat was, was this: "but I'm not sure I have the confidence to apply for that kind of role."
And if you and your world experience tell me I should retrain just once more, I swear I will kill every cat in neighborhood with fireworks inserted anally. Do you want that on your conscience? I have a fucking degree in mathematics, years of development experience, years of man management, years of product marketing. What exactly do I fucking retrain to do?
Beggars can't be choosers. The fucking Co-op won't entertain hiring me because I am fucking over-qualified.
I am on the brink of losing it big time. I fear for how pent up my anger with my situation is. At some point, I will snap, and I have no idea how that will manifest itself. I just checked myself in time on Saturday where some twat was being verbally abusive to his wife. I was just about to lay into him when F pulled me back and calmed me down.
This fuse is short people. If you're of a delicate nature, stay out of my way for a while. And if I disappear, it is because I have disappeared or I have been forced to disappear. Whatever, things are about to change. As with Gary Lineker, no more Mr Nice Guy.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 12:23 BST
15th May 2005
Thank God for Al-Beeb
What would I do without it?
According to the Observer one successful scheme in her constituency of Salford involved youths being forced to make floral hanging baskets.
...
It will also provide some measures to deal with binge drinking, give schools the right to search pupils for weapons, and propose giving community groups and parish councils the power to apply for Anti-Social Behaviour Orders (Asbos).
Great for me! I love both a good binge and making floral hanging baskets. But plants and pots are expensive. I can now do what I would normally do anyway and then have the nanny state provide the resources required for me to indulge in a little faux gardening.
Tony Blair for president.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 11:36 BST
Surprise visit to Iraq for Rice
Via the BBC...
Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice today paid a surprise visit to Iraq. Rice, who had boarded a plane in Qatar, had expected to be flown to Cuba for a couple of days worth of benders and muchos cigaros.
Upon landing in Explodistan, Rice commented "Well, isn't this a surprise?"
Local well-wishers who had been expecting her since last Tuesday were said to be underwhelmed at the quality of her sneakers and line of her calf.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 10:45 BST
14th May 2005
Ooh, Google maps
Just in case you want to buy me a pint or discuss business with one of my many agents...
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 11:36 BST
Could we be anymore anal?
Who knew that public opinion was so strong when it comes to hoodies?
Stuff this PC nonsense. Let them wear what they like, and if they are arseholes, let t'Bobby give 'em a t'clip round t'ear.
Cue one of Yates's four Yorkshireman rants.
When I were a lad...
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 10:51 BST
Come rain friendly clouds on Bryn
It is my God-given right to bitch about weather. Wherever I am, I will point out the inherent flaws in the climate.
Case in point: now. I haven't had hay fever all year. Up until Wednesday night, when I popped up to the parental units' abode to watch the small matter of Arsenal drumming Everton into the ground. My mother, being the damned hippy that she is, had cut some lovely fresh lilacs and positioned them for maximum pollen exposure. Oh yes.
Since then, I have done nothing but sneeze, water and pleb everywhere. Incessantly. I tried an anti-hystamine but, to be honest, all the things do is dry you up. The itching doesn't fade and your sinuses still burn. Still, it allowed me sleep up until about 5:30 this morning, whence I laid in state praying for rain.
It's been at least three days since it rained, which must be some kind of record for here. And the winds are strong thereby enabling the inhalation of pollen.
Just bloody rain already would you? I was thinking of nuking Skelmersdale again this morning, but then I remembered that Alfred the OK is going to a party there today. I will have to take my aggression out on an alternative hell-hole. I'm looking at you Leigh.
Update: Check this. I am in the North West for those of a geographically challenged nature.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 09:37 BST
13th May 2005
Sausages
If there is one thing that no other country in the world can do as well as the Brits, it's sausages. (Oh, and bacon.)
And it is a testament to The Man keeping the Brits down that Google's image search came back with not a single acceptable photograph of a well cooked English pork sausage.
I've just eaten four of the bastards otherwise I could have taken a picture myself. But how was I to know that Google would let me down?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 14:55 BST
12th May 2005
Johnny goes for it
Deputy Prime Minister doing what he does best, last year
I want jowls, if they mean you can randomly punch members of the public like Dear John here.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 17:02 BST
Arse buys control of Man U
The well-oiled wheels of commerce have turned. As is always the case, fat-cat businessmen get their own way by greasing the palms of other fat-cat businessmen. In keeping with the lube theme, it's the start of the slippery slope that takes the sport out of football and the team away from the fans.
Malcolm Glazer wouldn't know a football if it arrived in his face fresh from the boot of Wayne Rooney. Sorry US peeps, but this is too much. I know you like your American sports, but they are all pants in comparison to the beautiful game, and this bloody red-neck has no right to be messing with an institution as great as Manchester United. It's an outrage.
The board have given the fat bastard until May 17th to come up with a formal offer. So what has he done? Gone in with a hostile takeover plan. This could be the start of the end of the greatest club in the world. Someone needs to shoot the fecker.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 16:19 BST
Be afraid
The Right Honourable Member for Hull East, tomorrow
I think I might start a collection.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 15:51 BST
Is it April 1st?
Prescott backing hooded tops ban.
The nanny state gets uglier.
The Right Honourable Member for Hull East, yesterday
I love the fact that he accepts he has a miserable face.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 12:37 BST
11th May 2005
Another reason why you can't export Jon Stewart
Via Jack...
It's a little emotional to see democracy flourish in England. I'm not saying that it's because of the Iraqi war - but it happened after. They said that you couldn't bring democracy to those scone-eating, tea-drinking bastards and I said 'No, everyone yearns to be free.' -- Jon Stewart
God, call me dull, but this is why I can't stand the bloke. He wouldn't know the definition of humour if it slapped him.
Jon Stewart = Unfunny. Q.E.D.
In fact, Jon Stewart = Complete and Utter Twat.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 12:39 BST
Reincarnation proven a fact, by mistake
MinneapolisWigan -- via yateswire -- Scientists from Egypt and America have inadvertently solved one of life's biggest mysteries. Reincarnation is a fact.
The teams, who were alleged to have had some French help (ed - French scientists is an oxymoron), set out to reconstruct the face of the ladyboy king, Tutankhamun. Upon completion of the reconstruction they were faced with a reality no-one could dispute:
King Tut, thousands of years ago
One of the cool American scientists, who was formerly a Goth, spotted something truly astounding:
Marc Almond, yesterday
The likeness was so uncanny that the team kept it under wraps for fear of reprisals from The Ritzy Ratzy Pope.
A spokesman for the Hindu organization Headspot, upon viewing the 20 page paper detailing the 20 point match between these two photos, commented "We told you so" and ran to ring the Daily Sport.
The sure-to-be Nobel prize winners were said to be in hiding.
Marc Almond is alleged to be suing King Tut's estate for back royalties and infringement of copyright. Ed Lawyer, who is ironically a solicitor for Almond, commented "While Marc is sniffling like a school-girl that someone as beautiful as King Tut died so young, he also has a right to defend his legendary rock-star image. We will be seeking reparations from Tutty's descendents, once we find them."
Upon being accused of blatant publicity seeking, Almond sobbed, stamped his feet and flounced away to re-apply his smudged eye-liner.
Debbie Harry could not be reached for comment. Upon publication of the findings a number of lawsuits were filed including one from Patrick Stewart on William Shakespeare, one from Kate Bush on Cleopatra and one from Rod Stewart on Louise Brooks.
None of the people filing suit picked up on the fact that they are effectively suing themselves. Except Rod Stewart who is craftier than your average rabbit.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 11:07 BST
10th May 2005
Bum Sticks R US
As usual, I have stripped the IP to protect the guilty:
mswwwemm01.westminster.gov.uk 06:43, 10th May 2005 Mozilla/4.0 (compatible; MSIE 6.0; Windows NT 5.0; Cow1.2a; Cow1.3) http://www.google.co.uk/search?hl=en&amo;q=
eeh+by+gum+bum+stick
You know that Westminster place? Who would use that phrase do you think? It wouldn't be the Right Honourable Member for Hull East would it?
All together now...
Who ate all the pies?
Who ate all the pies?
You fat bastard!
You fat bastard!
You ate all the pies!
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 11:51 BST
9th May 2005
Weekend round-up
Go-carting hurts. The last time I did it was in my early twenties. Apparently the years have taken their toll. No longer am I the race winning demon of yonder year. After four heats and a semi-final, I was close to death. My anorexic string-bean upper torso had given up. My head was exploding with the heat inside the crash-helmet. My lungs were on fire, desperate for air. I threw the semi. I couldn't face another 15 laps in the final so I started driving like an old man, waving people by and getting the hell out of the way.
As a result of this exercise, I now have severely sore pectorals and arms, and a pulled muscle in my leg. Guess I'm out of the FA Cup final.
I will gloss over the evening as it did not really go to plan so is best left undocumented.
Sunday morning arrived and there was a juicy football game to watch. Wigan vs Reading. Wigan absolutely had to win to ensure promotion. Wigan hadn't beaten Reading in forever. After a gutsy show, the Latics are now a Premiership side...I'm sure there was a street party somewhere but I didn't see it. Perhaps I should have started one?
I spent yesterday afternoon wishing that I could be elsewhere other than in my own head. I was tired, narky and very, very irritable. Things that I would normally ignore as being quirky traits suddenly took on mammoth proportions and burrowed to the cortex:
My parents' old dog, bless her, is suffering from what all old dogs suffer from; absolutely foul breath. Trouble is she pants all the time now so if you're down-wind from her, you get a vile blast of rancid hot air. As I watched the footie yesterday, the dog moved in towards me and I inhaled the most disgusting stench I have experienced in a long while. My gag reflex was immediately awoken and I rushed off to the bathroom fearing the worst. I am very sensitive to smell, which is strange being a smoker. Anyway, maternal grandparent issued one of those statements that make you want to nuke Skelmersdale: "Breathe through your mouth - that's what pathologists do." I politely said nothing as I cursed mentally. The advice was re-iterated. I could hold back no longer. "Bully for bloody pathologists. It doesn't help." I held back the rest which was a rant of such vitriol that it may well have melted the TV down.
From that moment on, all the usual pieces of "oh, aren't grandmas sweet" advice became intensely annoying. I cite:
"You never drink when you eat. You should drink when you eat. Animals do it." -- Bully for bloody animals.
"You've not been for a walk today. You should go for a walk." -- I am in intense pain with a pulled muscle. Why the hell would I want to walk on it?
"Taste this pear. Isn't it lovely?" -- You know what? I eat to live not live to eat. Occasionally I may rave over a food or dish, but in general I find food to be intensly boring.
"You've stopped coming out with me and the dog." -- The dog is 11. You are nearly 80. Walking with you two is not exercise to me, unless testing my patience qualifies as exercise.
"You drink too much tea." -- I know. I also smoke and drink. I think tea is the lesser of the sins. Oh, and I happen to like it.
"You should put honey in your tea, not sugar." -- Listen, if I want to pile 10 sugars into a cup of tea, I will do. It's how I like it.
"You've not had any cake." -- I do not feel compelled to eat sweet things because they are there. I occasionally take a desert but it is not de riguer. In female speak, no means no.
"You're getting out of your routine." -- I have spent most of my adult life on a plane, swapping time-zones, the epitome of not having a routine. When did I suddenly develop a routine? I am incapable of routine. The only routine I am happy with is sleep, get up, go to work. Anything else is superfluous.
So you can see...I love her to bits, but Lordy, Lordy...
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 17:20 BST
7th May 2005
Perkin Cactii must die
It is a fluke of nature that bastard Cactii exist. Last night, for some unexplained reason, the cactii that adorn my bedroom window ledge had magically moved themselves to the bedside table situated barely inches away from where I sleep. Given my propensity for thrashing around at night, my spidey senses told me to move the bastard or risk awaking with spines in places where spines have no business being.
Concentrate Kenny. They're spikey little buggers. Must not let them fall over.
Of course, being the stupid things they are, cactii are top heavy. The predictable happened and I spent half an hour with a pair of tweezers pulling bloody spines out of my left hand and arm. I still have a few left in there that I cannot get at.
There is a reason that I never allow a cactus in my house. I have proven it yet again.
--
Today's excitement comes in the form of an unconventional stag-do. This afternoon, M and the boys are going go-cart racing. This evening, we are meeting up with the hen-party for a joint stag-hen do in the form of that most English of meals, a good old curry. Lager is optional.
So you probably won't hear from me until tomorrow or even Monday depending on where my gypsy flight of fancy takes me. If not, have a fine weekend and go easy on the mashed potatoes.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 10:48 BST
6th May 2005
Because I can...
I never get tired of this...
It's like a Jackson Pollock but with finesse.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 16:46 BST
Bloody Countdown
Watching Countdown with a non-mathematician is a nightmare. Just because the the thinking man's crumpet Carol Vorderman has a degree in mathematics, does not mean that your average mathematician has any better mental arithmetic capabilities than the next bozo in the street.
Vorderman, yesterday
Most mathematicians haven't seen a number since they were 16. Get over it. If, as an alleged mathematician, I fail to get the damned number, it is not because I'm not much of a mathematician; it's because I'm just not all that good at mental arithmetic.
Yates out.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 15:57 BST
Safely back in TB's hands
First and foremost, a hearty slap on the back for Alfred the OK and his bid for Parliament. Claiming 1.2% of the vote with a last minute campaign is no small feat. Especially in a strong Labour seat.
Yatescentral voted to keep the red flag flying (Makerfield). Result, even if Ian McCartney is a fat slimey bastard with all the allure of Kylie Minogue after a night on the town.
And my dad's new found best mate held his seat (Leigh).
While the number of Labour seats fell dramatically, the most worrying number from my perspective is the overall percentage of the vote. For the first time in ages, the mandated Labour government has been elected into office with less than 40% of the vote. And it's easy to see why. This has been a one issue election. One word: Iraq. If you are daft enough to protest vote, don't start dribbling over your blog about the fact that the Tories have increased their seats in the Commons or whining that Tony Blair is still in power.
I now vow to shut up about politics for the foreseeable future, on pain of something very painful.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 12:00 BST
5th May 2005
I'm so lame
I did myself a card a la S.
Very poor indeed.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 17:48 BST
A trilogy in three parts
Part one: Doing my bit
As I did my bit for democracy this morning, I was filled with a very uncharacteristic sense of pride in the UK. Can you imagine not living in a democracy? Tell you what; Iraqis can.
--
Part two: Customer (dis)service
I took my phone back to the shop it was purchased at this morning. It wasn't taking a charge. The logical conclusion was that the battery was a duffer. Here follows the conversation with S whom has been so named for being Stupid:
A: My battery appears to be dead.
S: Well we'll need to send your phone off to be repaired. It will be back in 14 working days.
A: Can you not just check it here?
S: We used to be able to, but the lad who did quit a couple of weeks ago. Do you have a mobile number we can call you on when it's fixed?
A: (points at dead phone)
S: Landline?
A: (gives number) Do you do loaner phones?
S: Yes - £50 deposit required though. Is that land line a BT line?
A: I'm not paying £50 -- that is outrageous. Yes it is a BT line.
S: I can do you a really good deal on.....(spiel here)
A: No. How about my phone? Why don't you just get another battery and try it to see if it is the battery or not?
S: I could do that. (shuffles off, finds battery, switches phone on and all works ergo battery is problem)
A: So, can't you just give me another battery?
S: That means I have a phone with no battery.
A: I give up -- call me when you have it "fixed."
WTF? Do not buy anything from Carphone Warehouse. I intend calling and complaining.
--
Part three: You have to love it
Finally, S, our local comedian showed me his business card last night. He had these printed about thirty years ago. I have no scanner so have reproduced it by hand.
He's a car mechanic. "Revolutions started" and "Uprisings quelled" -- class.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 13:33 BST
4th May 2005
Shout outs
It has been a long time since I added anyone to my blogroll. In fact, I've deleted quite a few that have died or dried up or offended me in any way shape or form, so my reading list has dwindled. I've also consolidated the Minnesota blogs into All That Jazz, as I can no longer claim to be a Minnesota blogger.
To offset the diminishing, I have added two new blogs that I happened upon earlier today. The first is Tina in Bolton over at Cakesniffers. And following Herge's comments and having read his celebrity obituaries, Angry Chimp had to be added too.
If you do nothing else today, go read Dido's and Carol Vorderman's obits. Class.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 18:22 BST
Things have I have never understood
There are a lot of them, I know. But today's mystery is what the hell is a BB Gun?
Is it an air-gun or what? Answers on a postcard, or in the comments.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 16:04 BST
New lows
Granny farming is apparently legal. Our trusted Conservative Party say so.
Could this be any uglier? I thought the US elections were distasteful. This is utterly repugnant.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 10:21 BST
3rd May 2005
Oi, America
Anything you can do, we can do better.
By 'eck. It's grim up North.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 11:54 BST
T-2
We are now under two days away from not having to listen to Michael Howard slime his way from interview to interview. I, for one, will be happy when we take the smile off his face; punching walls is not something I am prone to, but by God, does he make me do it. Self-important gutter-snipe with all the intellectual prowess of Michael Owen. Eejit.
All is not guaranteed though. Amongst those yatescentral has polled, the safe labour seat that this was may not be so safe. There's a lot of talk of voting Lib Dem in protest. Dangerous. There's also a strong feeling that is very anti-immigration. And then there's lethargy. I've not polled too many people who are Blair advocates. In fact, there's me and a Scouse Cypriot who maintain that he's the man for the job.
In the local elections, there's a guy standing for the Community Action Party. From reading their website, they are very active in local issues but appear not to have a vision; at least if they do, it's that of ousting Tony Blair. Sound familiar? Thought so. The guy who wrote that will be on my ballot sheet on Thursday. Hmmm. Lost himself a vote just for that one post.
All the furore about the elections did get me thinking though. The whole process is now archaic. We live in an age where the division of distance is pretty much non-existent. The UK isn't really big enough to merit huge great masses of local government in addition to national government and the berks in Brussels.
I've never been a fan of the first past the post doctrine. The one thing that could (but never will) swing me to the Lib Dems is a switch to proportional representation. If such a thing could be guaranteed, I'd take one for the team and give them my vote.
Anyway, I'll be glad when it's all over with and TB is safely ensconsed in number 10 for another term or until such a time as Gordon Brown takes over.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 11:32 BST
2nd May 2005
Bees release me, let me go
Groan.
I've had the back door open. Bad move. A helicopter bumble bee has invited itself in and who am I to deny it entrance? It is currently stealth bombing me and the window alternately. It is about two inches long and madder than mad Jack McMad.
I have never been stung by a bee. And being of a disposition that avoids all pain at all costs, I have no desire to change my virginal bee status.
Trouble is, this being the UK, it has decided that not raining for 24 hours is a luxury that we can no longer afford so the heavens have opened. Which means windows and doors are now shut. Ergo I am now trapped in a room with one of God's most pissed off creatures. Pray for me.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 14:41 BST
1st May 2005
Bitter, me?
So Chelsea finally have their grimey paws on the Premiership title. Had it been City or Boro or Everton or even Liverpool, I would doff my cap. But I cannot bring myself to applaud Chelsea. I despise their coach, I hate their owner and they just ooze all that is wrong with modern football. They're not even an entertaining team to watch.
I know, I know. I'm a Man U fan and some of you might argue that Man U started the rot. But I'll refer you to a comment I made a number of months ago -- Man U got to where they are through organic growth, not through a massive cash injection. Same with Arsenal.
There's no pride in buying a title.
To be honest, I am much more interested in the race for the Championship than I am in the top four in the Premier League. Wigan threw their chance yesterday and now absolutely must win to guarantee promotion. Otherwise it's the play-offs and I'm not sure they have the nerve for that.
And while I'm feeling all maudling, what the hell do English weather forecasters smoke? On Thursday they were talking about Sunday being a scorcher (by English standards). And what do we have? Yup. Same as any other day -- overcast, damp and on the brighter side of utter gloom.
I wish I hadn't got up. And I am certainly not buying a paper today. Mourinho's smug-arsed face reminds me why I hate all cheating, lying Portuguese, Spanish and Argentinian tossers. It's a damn good job I am not a nuclear power today.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 10:19 BST
