The Oliver Cromwell dedication Society

Customer services announcement.

2009-05-09T08:41:42Z

Good morning folks. Due to technical and mental difficulties Ive relocated here:

http://ocdpm.blogspot.com/

Saint Gorenzio, Ahmed, Menshivic, Wolfgang 'George'.

2009-04-23T14:48:19Z

The 23rd April signifies the celebration of the English Patron saint - St George.

Or rather him:-

The above illustration raises 3 significant issues.

Firstly, George is famous for being a knight across the water over in sunny Cappadocia. One fine day, minding his own business, he came across a little villlage called Silene. Within the village there lived a rather irritable and not entirely welcome dragon. Although the name of the dragon is unknow Im sure it was something evil like satan, or doom bringer or brimstone. Anywho, George stepped up the the plate and fucked him good and proper with a lance the size of mount etna.

Yay george. At which point, the knight won the x factor and began his meteroric rise to fame and fortune.

Little is mentioned about the dragon. Other than the fact that he was probably one of the last of his kind and was slaughtered for glory and spin, and to save the local famers a couple of fucking lambs.

Which brings us back to the picture above.

Regardless of its wonderful technicolour appearance, it can not be considered a photograph now can it. At the risk of being sceptical with an eeency wheency bit of cynicism chucked in for good measure - this again perhaps casts further doubt on the historical integrity of the St George 'story'. Moreso when we look at the caped crusaders wrap around blowing wonderously in the breeze, yet, georgio's barnet hasnt moved a jot.

Secondly, if thats a village consuming dragon Im a fucking hero.

Finally, and equally significant we have the name. It doesnt say george now does it. And it wasnt paitned by one john smith of ye-olde Cambrige town either. Was it now.

The sad fact of the matter is that our patron saint, associated with that good ole british bravery and stiff upperlipness. Wasnt british,

He was simply a christian sympathiser that endured brutal torture for this belief.

So why mention it?

Because it explains oh so much,

Yesterdays budget reminded me of this story. Ok, so the charachters are different bu the story remains the same. The chancellor is the white knight seeking to rid the land of the old evil.

But its not is it. Unpack the budget and all you get is the rich fat fuckers getting richer and fatter. Those good innocent under 25's have been promised either access to full time education (even though universitys, colleges and poly's have predicted that there will be no room at the inn due to the volume of applicantsanticipated for 2010/2011) or alternatively, have been assured a job. Perhaps in social care. Where nobody wants to work because the money is shit and unsustainable unless your prepared to work 25 hrs each day.

I love this country and everything it stands for.

The Cat shat on the mat....

2009-04-18T19:56:27Z

But why.

It is with heavy heart I write this post.

I have been observing the cat for some time now. Although intitially playful - appearing happy and content - some disconcerting behavioural patterns are begining to emerge. I assumed its steely gaze and nocturnal prowls were but 'habbits'. Genetically pre-determined habbits yes - but dating back to a far away time - heralding from a predatorial feline ancestry.

But this is more; much more.

In a semiconscious state, I awoke - blood-shot eyes betraying a troubled night of haunted thoughts.There, in the dim distance. Those now un-familiar, unflinching, unblinking yellow-greens.

Everpresent.

Sinister. Not mirrors to the soul but a gate to the unknown and irrational.

A mirror to a mirror?

Swinging my legs to the side of the bed I held that focus. The pounding rush deafening out silence.

Chancing a glance to the floor - one slipper was missing.

Where. For the love of god Where? But more importantly why.

Strange things are afoot.

Study One. The Cat.

2009-04-10T12:51:57Z

There are three groups of people.

Those that hate cats. Those that love cats. And the rest who havent really taken the time or trouble to consider their feline preference either way.

No real suprises there then.

There are some that consider the modern cat a pest. With little beneficial function other than to provide a cheap alternative to an ornate back scratcher.

There are those that unconditionally idolise cats. Their gait, posture, relaxed and fancy free manner. Their little idiosyncracies and individuality, which means no two cats are the same. Unless they are Conjoined siamese (or long haired) twins.

For me, the judge jury and taxidermist is still out.

The interesting anthropological thing here, is that if you spend just a little time observing the cat and their associated behaviour - it occasionally makes fuck all sense.

Yet there are other times when, well, I genuinly think Darwin got it wrong yet Adams got it right.

As a species, humans are clearly well below par in the evoloutionary pecking order.

Documented and highly empirical evidence to follow.

and the cats nap in the slant corners or lope sly, streaking and needling, on the one cloud....

2009-04-09T13:17:30Z

To begin at the begining. Without consultation, 'we' adopted a cat recently.

I suppose the idea was to give me something to focus on. A cure?A distraction? Owt.

Miss Whiplash claimed it was 'something' she wanted for some time.

Clearly seeing this charade for what it was, yet at the same time recognising the sentiments and reasoning behind it, Ive kept schtum.

SO the cat. Or rather, Dylan. Named, as Im sure you'll be aware, after Dyan Thomas.

No. Not the fucking fruity milkman from aberygammy The taffy writer.

Or more accurately, this:-

As I've said in the past, I am more of a dog person. But I'm becoming a convert. A beutiful semi-long haired with a grey coat complimented with white whiskers, and further white markings on the paws , around the mouth and under chin.

Yet if the cat continues to claw at the carpet and shred the lounge curtains - the love shall be lost and death will remain (not domain).

And its into the sea, you and me.

Thats pretty much the cure.

Horses for courses.

2009-04-04T10:18:25Z

The grand national for me, conjours up a variety of mixed emotions.

Clearly, although not an active member of the RSPCA I think that horse racing, generally, can be a tad barbaric. I recall years ago the media hysteria over a jockeys excess use of the whip. If memory serves correct it wasnt just the occasional gentle swipe of encouragement, it was the rider battering the fuck out of the poor horseys left side.

Similarly, historic discourse over the jump size of certain hedges has been well documented due to the number of equestrian related fatalities.

However, If perpetually battered and bruised and exploited and ridden to the brink of exhasution, does common sense not dictate that as soon as the mount approaches a particularly high jump it should really stop in mid stride - throw the jockey arse over, and then proceed to stomp on its former rider accordingly? In fact, why do all the horseys not concoct some masterplan of retribution prior to the start? I really think horses should re-enter the education system and go back to school.

**Baddum**

Home and (or) away or complete tosh?

2009-02-27T10:50:31Z

This morning I found myself confronted with this:

Not an upside down viking sticking his semi-nordic tounge out as I assumed, the headlineline soon revelaled the true origin of the meaning:

Earliest 'human footprints' found

The article continued by suggesting that these 1.5million year old foot prints located in Kenya confirm that the apparent spacing between digits and heel substantiated the gate and upright posture of the early homosapian.

However, its apparently clear to see from the well preserved imprint that the foot was, at that time, still capable of grasping trees and other woodland-type debris. Accordingly, the archeolhistorigeologist that unearthed this find, maintains you can clearly see the eveloutionary transition taking place those many moons ago. Hence - they can say with complete uncertainty that this is truly the oldest human foot print ever found.

This - I find a load of old shit.

Firstly, its clear to see from the picture that humans only had one leg confirming that we probably descended from the humble ostrich rather than the ape.

Equally, and not forgetting, today, there are many born with foot/feet disfigurements. This may range from an unsightly bunyon to having a solitary large obtrusive big toe through to having strange deformed webbed toes. Either way - these freaks do not represent the majority of the modern human population.

Should alian investigators pop across to planet ostrich-ape when human life has finally become extingushed, and locate prints made from these strange lot - will they then conclude we were some form of strange amphibian lifeform?

"Get your coat love - you've pulled."

Its tuly possible.

Returning back to the fossilised prints where we came in - was this individual assuredly a representative sample of the other bipeds roaming around vast quantities of untainted land? Or was it just some old dear with a gammy foot.

History - lets be frank, is purely complete speculation with a few kinks and a bit of poetic license chucked in for good measure.

However. I then had the unfortunate experience of watching one of these fuck off abroad or rather escape to the country type programs on bbc one.,

FOr those unfamilar with the formatt, you take an unhappy british family (there's lots to chose from) and then pay them to spend a week in australia to decide if they feel the urge to up sticks and emmigrate.

BASically, this 'make a new lif abroad' visual extravaganza see's a couple seek exactly the same type of job oversea's as they already have at home. It then enables them to find a house oversea's, thats exactly the same as the one they already have at home, Finally, it encourages them to embrace a life-style overseas with the same husband or wife or child that they currently have at home- thats exactly the same as they have at home.

Incredible idea and I can see the attraction.

Regardless, the thing here is that from watching this program on two seperate occasions - there appears to be a growing trend. Not in terms of emmigration, but of both women and men uniting and wearing more and more and larger and larger necklaces.

No longer is fine craftsmanship and understaed chic the aim of the game the sole aspiration seems to be to wear a necklace thats the size of a fucking australian house.

This raises two relevant points. Firsly, the wearing of such wieghty items could alter the next stage of the human eveloutionary process - returning us back to the stooping homo-not-so-erectus of yesteryear - or alternatively, the sheer weight of said costume jewellry could sink the land further into the rapidly rising sea levels. Effectively, speeding up the sinking of all remaining land mass with the final effect being the erradication of all lie on earth.

Perhas then, footprints mean fuck all.

Take what you want from this - Im currently hungover with a wolley mammoth the size of a planet cavorting inside my head and mouth.

"I hate that mirror it makes me feel so worthless"

2009-02-24T13:29:26Z

1. WIth few remaining shifts before the start of the new job - this week is providing the perfect opportunity to catch up on all those important little bits and pieces that you keep putting off until the right moments presents itself.

So, having fully caught up with my sleep and associated power naps I was able yesterday to joyfully slaughter innocent cartheginian women, children and senior citizens on my currently favored computer game of choice.

Dont you love no consequence mayhem.

2. Today - on a rather unpleasent and highly subjective personal note - I have spent the day 'constructively'. Did stuff around the house and made a few notes for the guy thats taking over my role with the soon-to-be-no-longer-employer.

This gave food for thought. Leaving a job we know we can do well - to enter the land of the unknown. makes you a little pensive with an ounce of trepedation I suppose. Gazing in the mirror having a shave a wave of insecurity did wash over me. Hope this time the self doubt is a passing phase.

3. The artist occasionally known as Reaper has come to my wirelessly problematic routers aid. Cheers - think things are now working in a safe and identity protecting manner in which I hope to become accustomed. I was able to reset the password I forgot like an amnesia orientated twat.

Quatre. This has caused me no end of fucking anguish:

Sloping around in nothing but my holy y-fronts carressing lovingly my middle age love handles like a proud expectant mother - I considered yesterday how I am a gourmet of style and sophistication - without actually having any.

Thus, I decided to build on my socially inept skills and prepare myself a caffafuckingfrenchywhatdoyacallit full of coffe. I produced the coffe stuff from the fridge- deciding to ignore the roman numerals that Im sure represented a best before date some time past - and chucked it in the glass jar. Added hot water, and in accordance with instructions Im sure I read at some point, depressed the plunger slowly and purposefully.

I vagouly recall that if you go down to quickly, there can be all manner of liquid spraying problems.

Anyway, I plunged and waited. And all I got was a boat load of washing up and coffe that tasted like shit.
In fact shit with bits in.

So stick to instant. Its cheap, its cheerful and its ready in a - well - instant.

Or go to starbucks. Unless your British. In which case go to Starbucks. And burn it.

It's not all work, work work.

2009-02-20T11:21:27Z

Morning folks - hope we're all equally well.

Im currently working stupid shifts - not in terms of lenghty hrs - but due to work shafting me with fucking stupid calls. I may be allocated a mere 4 hrs - but they are spread unevenly and irritatingly throughout the course of the full day. First call may be starting at 6 - then nothing until lunch.

Then, after a not in the slightest needed break - I'm out and about at 9pm ish.

I wont miss this one-fucking-Iota.

That said, one of the older gentleman I visit has just started opening up to me about his wife and the problems she/they face. Quite an emotional moment for both of us actually.

I hope they will both be ok. And I will miss finding out how they both get on through life.

Then there are the others, some I like, some I find fucking infuriating - and some that you dont have feelings for either way.

Regarding the ones I find 'challanging' - I try and ask myself how I would feel if forced to endure their enforced quality of life.

I think I'd probably be damn sight worse than they are.

But thats that.

As iv'e said in the past, its the worst paid job in the world. Those that work in the lower eschelons of the fast food industry or those that clean are paid more than most in the care industry.Yet its the most important job in the world.

You can be treated like shit and sometimes feel like an extra from upstairs downstairs - yet when you have brought an ounce of pleasure to someone or induced a smile or a laugh - those are the things that you take away and store inside.

Right, Im away to Lidl to buy some kitchen roll and sponges.

Give a little love, Mr Jones.

2009-02-07T09:28:02Z

1) Its snowing outside.

2) I recieved x 3 job rejections last week.

3) I love this song and think I may buy a gold necklace and some rings like Tom. Crank up your volume - its fucking good actually.

4) Proper post after squash.

The importance of being idle?

2009-01-24T12:22:39Z

If you were feeling a tad bored one monring, and decided to pop across to Ethiopia, heading south along the Omo river - you may eventually stumble across a bunch of folk aptly termed 'The Hamar'.

Should you time this jaunt well, you may also have the fortune to experience one of the local ceremonies whereby young uninitiated males reffered to as 'Okuli' are exposed to a tradition of cattle jumping. Smeared from head to toe with the effluence pruduced by said walking,talking, mooing pommel horses, the young males prepare themsleves to nip across the backs of the local heard.

This is a time of excitement and joy, apparently, signifying a transtion into manhood.

In honour of the occasion, the young man's female relatives all form an orderley que to be whipped.

When reading the account of this, the young women were apparently excited and indeed enthusiastic with many physically jockeying for a position to be first in line for a good hard flogging.

When the main event takes place, the Okuli has to run over the backs of the herd a number of times. Should the sprightly youth go arse over and fall between the cattle - not only is there potential to recieve a bit of a kicking from a batch of angry heffers, but equally and in accordance with local law, the women then get their opportunity to flog the inept youngster.

However, the one thing that struck me when reading this account was that, apparently, all the participants and indeed wider communty really fucking enjoyed the occasion.

Call it tradition, call it entertainment, call it confirmation of a more senior place within the Hamar society. Call it what you want. They loved it.

I'd forgotton about this.

Until today, when a BBC New report suggests that although the British work some of the longest hours in england (excluding myself, obviously) they are apparently one of the more happier nations of the world.Regardless of GDP figures, economic slowdown, high inflation or low employment - as far as individuals go - we are a jolly bunch.

This statement, I feel, alas, is a pile of rather hefty dogs bollocks.

Serious crime is apparently on the up. Home repossession is apparently up. Energy bills are certainly up. Ecologically friendly lightbulbs (its announced today) are not only unhelpful to those with vision impairment - but also to those that can, under normal circumstances, see perfectly well. (They are simply shit. No real revelation there).

So, for the Beeb and its team of inept researchers - how can you say that native english folk are all happy even in the face of economic, social and political insecurity. Its fucking bollocks. Anyone regardless of culture or nationality has moments of happiness. I'm sure that those that are at the end of their cattle free tether have good moments and bad. It's the generic association that following alledged in-depth hi tech research determined by interviewing 7 people at 11.00am on a monday, outside the fucking Chesterfield, that everyone is quite upbeat and genreally jovial. God bless the bulldog british spirit and our die-hard elated persona.

Well its shit.

Im relatively sure that should the same research be undertaken at the same time outside here, feedback and conclusions may differ slightly. Knob jockeys.

Although perhaps there is a different answer to all this are we happy, are we suicidal, are we on the very of cracking up discourse.

Perhaps Im wrong for the first time in my life.

If we accept, as a nation, we work long unpleasent hours with little prospect of quality time with loved ones or wives - then perhaps another solution presents itself. Geater redundancy = less time at work and less time required swallowing the corporate cock.

There's a fucking moral for you.

Jesus was a carpenter but I never read about her (or him) working 24/7.

It's not so bad?

2009-01-23T13:26:19Z

Last night I watched the itv news. Not by choice you understand - I didnt have the controller.

The report in question discussed how the current economic climate effects crime rates within English society.

Apparently, and if we are to believe this questionable news source, those that are paid for establishing trends maintain that as recession hits home, violent crime and petty crime both normally reduce. The explanation offered was that people spend more time at home due to less disposable income. Thus - there is less chance for the enthusiastic opportunist to either ransack your house or beat you over the head with a huge fuck-off iron bar to nick your wallet or purse or both.

The item then continued by stressing how this particular recession differed in terms of crime rates compared to previous years. Although, and in accordance with the news reports opening pitch, petty crime and burglary have reduced, serious crime has apparently increased. Thus bucking the historic trend.

The conclusion offered (albeit without any empirical findings, research or data offered In support) was that society is a more violent place than it used to be.

This I find a crock of shit.

In light of the current recession people have less money. This is generally agreed. However, less money = less good quality food = less mental energy due to a lack of food stuffs rife with vitamines a,b and c. (and B12) = less ability to concoct criminal plans. Those habitual offenders that account for a large proportion of serious crimes will simply not have the capacity or energy levels to devise ingenious ways of fleecing us tax payers.

Thus crime will drop. Can you imagine the art heist undertaken within the Thomas Crown affair working if all the evil henchman involved had significant pay reductions? They would be forced into wolfing down inexpensive mars bars and pot noodles and would therefore be running around in a rabid state due to overdosing on artificial preservatives. Not , strolling around in elegenat suites spending their well considered yet ill gotton gains on million pound boats

Moreover, the economic climate has currently seen the manufacturing industry hit significantly, with redundancies and closures common place across all the compass pointed towns and cities of england. One of the key industries hit is crockery and culterly makers. Not only can you no longer buy a glorified hand painted with pink flowererd porcelin piss pan - but I'd imagine the availability of good quality sheffield steel has now also reduced significantly.

WIth this in mind, the governments obsession over esculating levels of knife crime is also bollocks. Less quality materials due to rising costs of raw meterials will probably see steel replaced by a hard plastic. Instead of therefore being stuck with a pristine razor sharp implement you'll instead recieve a slight itching sensation where a volitile teenager nips your skin with a retractable rubber hammer (similar to those that are widely available from the retailer Fisher Price to be used in conjuncture with the rather fun game 'hungry hippoes. With an age appropriate recomendation of 3 months +)

OK - a light hearted look at a serious issue. All Im sayign here is somtimes, ITV, CNN, BBC, whichever. Don't fucking take it all as gospel.

The worm that (was) turned (and then eaten)

2009-01-21T11:37:59Z

Scanning the morning news I read this:

'Little dung beetle is big chopper'

Accompanied by this:-

The report continues by suggesting that the humble dung beetle (synonimous for eating shit) is no longer content with its excrement endeavors. Instead, and as not really highlighted by the picture above, it has turned its attention towards the slightly less humbled millipede. Although sounding not really fascinating in any shape or form we have to consider 2 things here:

1) The milipede is 10 times the size of said beetle

2) The dung beetle has survived for millions of years living off the product produced from living off the land.

This, for me, has serious implications. If animals that have prospered and been mildly successful in terms of survival begin to try a bit of 'oneupmanship' over rival food chain species - where will it all end?

Will the aparently mild mannered sparrow begin to work in flocks and start to attack the even more laid back common cow? Could we begin to see non-turf wars involving gangs of disillusioned sea bass beating the living fuck out of the fresh water carp? Probably not.

But does this change in beetle life-style herald in some impeding global catastrophe or fundamental change in birdless pecking order that has far reaching consequences for mankind?

No. It's the just the animal anrthropologist trying to legitimise her £50k salary recieved whilst the bbc attempt to prove that the 50k salary they pay her is money well spent.

Update.

2009-01-18T20:50:38Z

1) Call me an old fashioned trraditionalist - but I fucking hate snooker and darts. I have never understood the appeal and place these 'apparent' sports on the same entertainment level as inserting my own cock within a meat grinder.

2) I sat through 90 minutes of mama mia last night. And now recgnise how truly exciting and enjoyable 19 solid frames of snooker really can be.

3) I feel physically tired today. I have been excersising a lot recently. However, it also dawned on me this morning that I am feeling very mentally strong. And I like it. Not arragonce. Sef belief? Perhaps self acceptance.

Rag and Bones.

2009-01-16T12:38:54Z

1) In the space of 2 hrs I have heard 4 government messages on the radio highlighting Gordon Brown's desire to "Crack down on benefit fraud" thats (allegedly) draining the country of well needed dosh. According to the campaigns menacing darth vadian tones, every effort and required resource is being made and injected respectively into seeking out these melingering bastards. In response to the right-honourable Pm I would suggest:

i) Although not condoning claiments abusing the system - perhaps less time and money frittered away on this witchhunt, and instead, more time and money strategically invested into kick starting the economy and supporting families on low incomes would be a more useful venture.

ii) We're not fucking stupid. Don't try telling us that the current economic climate is purely the fault of those skimming from the state. Equally, distraction techniques won't make us forget how you have impressively made an arse out of the economy.

iii) Benefit fraud v's MP expenses et al. Glass houses Gordey boy. Do you really want to open that can of worms.

2) After a few episodes I became a convert to 6 feet under. The writing, the acting, the dark humour. Very entertaining. You were right Reaper.

Michael Hall, for me , is one of more able american actors. Flexible, charasmatic - with an unexpected innocense that draws you into his acting world. Last night I watched my first full 'Dexter' episode. And although recognising he is a murderous wretch that gets his jollies from some really nasty torturous stuff, you cant help but admire the man. Now I'm not suggesting that mutilation and targeted killing is the way forward here - all Im suggesting is that none of us are perfect. THe only spoiler for me - is that the theme tune (imbeded below for your convenience) reminds me of the old Steptoe and Sun sound track. Spoils the moment a tad.

Do-duh do-do doooo, do-do-do?

3) I'm not one really for reading socially under normal circumstances. As I hope we all realise the written word is a dangerous thing that should be treated with susupician and distrust. Look at labours maifesto for example **que clock chime and tumbleweed**
However, I have just realised I have read 3 books in the space of the equivilent number of months. The books were by no means classics and were even a bit shit if the truth be known. But my choice of reading intrigues me a touch.:

i) First contact
ii) Long way down
iii) Tribe.

Either I have some kinky peversion for grass skirts and blood disease - or by subconscious wants me to fuck off abroad for an indefinate period.

More reflection on this necesary.

No business as usual.

2009-01-15T16:10:56Z

1)Thoughts go with Ww today - who I believe is having something rather large, stiff and unpleasent inserted into her mouth/ jaw today. No laughing Ww - in your current disposition the bite reflex could have serious consequences.

Jokes aside, hope it all goes well.

2) Overcast and rain today mostly outside.

Regrettably, I have not had chance to expose myself to this welcome inclement weather as I have had the even greater misfortune of completing a fucking mamoth application form.

This use of the word mamoth here - indicates clearly the sheer scale of the twatting document. 15 Pages of job requirements and a further 15 highlighting the person spec. It would be around a gazillion steps up the ladder compared to previous roles - but I think I can nail the job.

After all todays hard work - I better get something back from this one- even if its just a rejection letter.

3) This morning, and I'm sure nothing to do with my recent facebok discovery of past love - i decided to exfoliate and clean my appearance up a tad. I therefore shaved, disrobed, did a few excersise and wheezed. Elevated my foot above the rim of the bath and with the grace of a pregnant gazelle thats lots all hooves due to global warming swung myself into the shower. Long hooottttt shower. The hot jets hit the spot, and the smell of the new envigorating shampoo abundent in vitamins a,b and something else revived my flagging will power. The exfoliator stuff - I applied to my face and left for a few minutes to work its wonders. LIke all good clean men it was then time to ensure all the relevant pieces of anatomy were cleaned to the hilt so to speak. Unfortunately, I forgot that I still had exfoliator on my hands.

So yes, I think I must be the only man in the world to have exfoliated their cock. And I dont recomend it.

4) There is something about female operatic stars I really find significantly horny. The vocal training, style, pinache, ability to go for in excess of 6 minutes without the need to take a breath? Hell yes.

Grab your coat love - with you i'd leave.

"Red from the night before the night before".

2009-01-10T10:32:00Z

1) Last night I sat down to watch 'The untouchables' starring Kevin Costner, Sean Connory and thingey Garcia. Ive seen this film before - but enjoying it the last time I tunned in to film 4 feeling the urge to familiarse myself with the joys of prohibition and the associated under world blood fest that ensued.

Before the film started, there was a government backed advert. It's one of these new anti-drug flyers whereby, recognising scare mongering makes fuck all difference to class a,b or c take-up they have chosen now to appeal to an individuals more logical side.

To be fair - it did appear a more appropriate method of discouraging useage. Instead of sanctamonious preaching with a sinister use of black and white - it made it almost humerous. It's pitched at reiterating the financial impact and more importantly the fact that certain substances are cut with all sorts of shit. In that respect, not only are you not reciecing good illicit value for money , but there's potential to die horribly in excrutiating pain and agony - potentially whilst thrashing around within a pool of your own urine, spittle and shit.

Again, it wasnt as melodramtic as perhaps my explanation - but that was the underlying message.

Finally, I thought to myself - common sense prevails.

The next advert was something to do with washing powder (ironically) but it was the next that made me smile. It was something like film 4 - enjoy it with vodka and coke. The scene was a couple seemingly happy, warm and well dressed - with a relatively large bottle to share from.

I contined my viewing and thought no more about this. The next set of advertisements arrived, and in the absence of a attendent flogging ice creams I grabbed myself a cherry brandy and coke and had a ciggie outside.

Returned in - just in time for a message from the films sponsers. This time, a different couple although equally well presented - with the message suggesting drink gin and tonnic!!!! Again - camera pans back - bottle of some famous brand of gin.

The next adverts - baileys.

Some-things a laughably fucking stupid

The best anti-drink message is below. Looks at Paul Heatons hair. Not big nor clever.

Thats amazing mate!!!!

2009-01-09T14:05:49Z

Im feeling slightly retro today.

Moderately bright day today both in terms of climate and mental outlook. Surfaced early - and spent 30 minutes sweating out the festive excess on the bath robe rail/ clothes storage device - or rather excerise bike - as it is now returning to.

Light breakfast of kellogs crunchy nut flakes accompanied by a boat load of blueberries and rasberries - my current fruit of choice. Stood at the back-door smoking a ciggie - I reflected on how healthy I truly am. Continueing my day of health and distraction I booked a court and played a friend at squash - taking his game apart with the skill, agility and refinement demonstrated infrequently. Good confidence boost.

Grabbing a shower - Ihad the misfortune to be stood next to a guy with a knob the size of house. I hastily left. Confidence lost.

On the return leg I nipped into b and q and bought some weathershield for the storage door outside and some antique brass plated hooks to stick in the cupboad within the kitchen. Its a good storage space but we aren't really exploiting its true potential. Inside is currently resting the borrowed dehumidifyer we utilised to dry the walls once the plasterer had finished turning what was once a tidy room into a shit tip.

Note to self: I must remember to drop that off later this afternoon.

Further, Ive found 3 or 4 jobs that appeal. 1 is really local and is the perfect job - but I dont quite meet all the desireable spec.Ill give it a try though and see how things pan out. 2 of the others would require either a significant commute or alternatively, would need me to consider finding a shitty b and b, or bedsit to crash in during the week and then return home on a weekend. Not sure yet. Ive had this dilema before a year or so ago.

So thats pretty much it. Jobby applications, get rid of the dehumidity thang, stick the hoover in its place and put up these hooks to hang coats and bits and pieces. Exciting.

Finally, followng Miss Wyoming's comment in a prev post (if you havent said hi to her prev - a) shame on you all; and b) mosey over to her blog, have a look and say hi - v funny and v honest. Nice lass.

Anyway, the point she made was about lemmings and the fact that they dont actually jump off cliffs to their inevitable demise. It was a fabrication by walt disney who was having a jape.

This got me thinking. Why would they do this? If eveloution is accepted and social darwinism really does determine which species survive and prosper and which don't- there would be no logic in a creature thats been around for a bit - seeking to end its own life. Unless they were performing a self cull due to dwindling food, resources or whatever. But thats not the case.

So now - in true david attemborough style - Im pondering over all the wildlife that has got skills that are really shit and not really of any benefit to man or more appropriately beast.

1) The flying fish. Deriving its name from its abillity to fly (or rather hover) I really do know fuck all about this aquatic show-off. However, I do know that the term fly is slightly misleading. You dont find thisglorified finney haddock swooping and cavorting up high frequently. What it can probably do is jump a bit - leaving the water for around 4 seconds. And this help the animal how?Pre-fucking-cisely.

2) The Aligator.

Unchanged for millions of years, this predator is percieved to be one of the worlds ultimate hunters/survivors. Razor sharp teeth surrounded by an outershell thats more similar to body armour than skin - the gator has a well respected reputation. But is it really justified? Can it drive? Can it floss? Can it count to 5. No it fucking can not. Simply look at the picture below - not as highly evolved as it assumes me-thinks. Serves it right the smart arse.

For more info on this fascinating pick go here:http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/4313978.stm

I cant think of anymore - have you got any animals with skills you find completely useless?

On the buses!!!

2009-01-08T15:43:15Z

Over and above the dire food delivery that would make the red cross air drops appear like a well considered Harrods hamper - Im feeling a tad dispondent today. The reasons for this mentally distressed slump are numerous-fold including....(but not withstanding):

1) Recived a text from one of my course(ex-course) mates confirming that when the news was broke to the rest of the group - they all appeared generally suprised suggesting I would potentially make a decent social worker. Goes to show what their judgement is.

2) I have just spent 7 hrs with one client. And the day oh so dragged I actually felt the urge to poke my own eyes out with the ladies well-groomed cats tail.

3) I have just recived my wage credited to my account which provides woefully worrying reading.

4) I have dropped 17 places in my squash league over a period of 3 months.

5) I need a job. One that offers a challange and provides variety. And yes. Stability and money. With fast cars and loose women being an optional, yet preffered fringe benefit.

6) I have a head ache which perhaps arises from the gazillion or so cups of luke warm horrible tea I have been forced to endure drank from a cup which potentially doubles as the cats litter tray.

7) Yesterday I read an article yapping on about this:

For those of you with impaired vision the British humanist campagin, which has raised in excess of £140,000, has shelled out for a variety of logos suggesting:- "There's probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life".

At the time I laughed at this and imagined the look on a jehova's face that's so shocked with this athiestic properganda that they are plowed down by said bus. Now there's a moral dilema. Transplant or not? Struck down by the hand of an anti-god really would make you have a quick rethink surely.

Anway, although being mildly agnostic as Ive said in the past - ive been pondering about the futility of it all if we are to believe this slogan. If I wasnt worrying before - Im probably a bit worried now.

Whats the point? Work every hr a godless world can send purely to make our brief stay here a little more tolerable. Perhps lemmings got it right afterall.

Cheerfull days are here again.Time to lighten the mood!!

The hills were once alive - with dairy producing cattle.

2009-01-07T12:01:16Z

Not sure if this music imbed will work - but Ill try. This is for you reaper. YOu remined about U2 with your prev comments.

Fundamentally, Iv'e always been a lazy bastard. This I enjoy.

I use my car as it enables me not to use my lower limbs. **coughs**. I use drive-in foodey places as it enables me to eat my chosen artery clogging fast-ish scoff without losing the calories ive paid over the odds to consume.

I therefore decided to continue this trend and indeed take this layzness to a new un-energetic level. Surfing the net I decided to check out the supermarket asda's web site. Like all good wholesome stores it provides all your necessary essential living items under one ergenometry considered roof i.e flowers, video-games, fake porcelin ashtrays and crayons. It also sells food.

Hating shopping as I truly do, I thought Id therefore have a quick squizz at their produce. Not bad. Stroking my chin whitsfully, I then registered and established an account.

15 cans coke, (not the diet shit), and bit of seasonal veg and locally farmed fruit just for good measure (cocanut, porteguese peaches etc)

Free lanced culled meat - pastries and cakes,
a few cans of guiness and a couple of steaks.
Dairy free milk, butter, eggs and flower
Imperial soap gel - obviously for the shower.

A light bulb, a plug not forgetting some fresh smelling flowers,
to erradicate the smell left from me bowel.

Anyway, auditions for strictly 'xxxx-all' talent aside - the list all in equated about £50 quid or rather 0.062 of a euro.

I merrily skipped to the chechout options and looked for the cash back facility. Alas, visions of money cascading from my not so hard drive never developed with this options not currently being provided. Equally, the busty check out girl synonimous with isle 8 and more importantly a brace of perky top-bollocks - was also conspicious by her ample absence.

Still - the order was placed and I plummed for a mutually convenient deliver date and time.

Proud of myself for this productive hour - I sat back and awaited the delivery. Well I would have done if the delivery date was the same day which it wasnt.

Anyway, when the van approached the house I had visions of this:

Delivered by her:

In actualllity I got the equivilent of this:

Delivered by him:

And no - thats not my father.

Perhaps I exaggerate - but rest assured - the produce wasnt quite as meticulously chosen as one may have hoped. The lazy melingering fuckers.

Hey-ho.

I wish it could be christmas everyday.

2008-12-19T14:04:49Z

1) Yesterday - having had a particularly grueling and generally shit day at work - I decided to head for the local KFC for some comfort food. Pondering over the choices available - I eventually plummed for the boneless bucket. My reasoning being the staff that work in this particular franchise are fucking stupid. From the last 5 visits I have made to their establishment (KFC gateshead) - they have impressively made a dogs cock of every order. They either create the completely wrong burger, or ommit the container of gravy - or add all the relish, ketchup, even when I beg them not to. So I assumed - boneless bucket, - simple fucking fillets in breadcrumbs. Not technical or fucking rocket science.Just chicken in a basket.
The gimp that served me managed to make an arse of that.

2) I hate christmas music. This is not an exaggeration. I hate it. I hate Slade. I hate all of them. It's shit. Stop playing this constant rendition of wank.

3) For the past few months we have recieved a torrent of telephone calls attempting to encourage us to change electric and gas provider. Having done the compare.com thing a couple of years back - I went with southern electric. They were competitive, efficient and I liked the green coloured paper the bills arrive on. They still remain competitive to this day - and as such - I have no intention of changing. However, bearing in mind the transitional time Im currently experiencing, added to this the joys of the chritmas build-up - I have not really been fully focussed of late. As such, Peter the salesman caught me unawares last week. Now I dont quite recall the full conversation - although do vaguley remember saying yes thats fine to something. Arriving home at 8 last night to find Peter sat on my fave sofa drinking from my fave 'dont panic' cup - with t'other half glareing at me - the full conversation suddenly came right back.

It appears Peter had been there for the last hour and had been explaining how 'he' can save us a boat load of cash on energy bills. If, we we're prepared to change to British Gas for a minimun period of 14 months. Peter continued his well reherased pitch with well constructed sentences including words such as capped, fixed, flexible and unbeatable. Appologising for not being there when he arrived - I then ascended the stairs for a shower. Recognising Miss Whiplash was left alone downstairs with this electrical predator I loitered in the shower for 20 mins. I got out, got dried and his fucking incessant drone could still be heard. I played oblivion on the x box for 20 mins and yep, sure as shit xmas music - still there. Feeling particularly guilty about this - I eventually succumbed and went to join them. I went downstairs and explained we were not interested. Full stop. No seing the best in the person or looking to empathise with the ground work he'd done and time he'd spent. No smiling and open body language -simply 'we're not interested'. I loved it.
I'd bet he and his colleagues wont be calling again. Best way to disuade cold calls and impromtu visits. Waste their time and then tell them to fuck off.

Importing, reading & thigh rubbing..

2008-12-06T09:45:42Z

Nothin else to really say. Although just time for a bit of an ogle.oogle? You know what I mean.

Cooking.

2008-12-06T09:33:04Z

Two items of little to no interest today.

1) Slow cookers: This morning, in an unusual fit of organisation I managed to prepare the ingredients necessary for a make-shift cassarole.

Cooking made easy? Really.

Following my orders to the letter - (jotted down on a post-it - funnily enough)I peeled and scrapped, sliced and diced and basically chucked all the bits and pieces into this large fuck-off pot. Plug - on, temperature - low - and before you could say 'hey - bisto' (in the genre of harry potter) - my work was done.

According to the instructions - a meal fit for a peruvian king should be ready and waiting by close of play.

So I'm sure you'll join in my suprise when 10 hrs later - the potatos could still be used as a fucking shot-put. Putt's. Plural.

As hard as nails in a (coco)nut shell.

So whats the point? Technology is surely important to free up time and allow us to focus on more pressing concerns. Why buy a slow cooker? What is it's function if not to cook? Why have a 'high' temperature option on a slow cooker? Funny - in a non-humerous way.

2) For many years Ive had a fascination with history. Romans and saxons and normans and vikings. Be it 1066 and harold try-harder from tapestry making to the spanish armada.

All of it. Fascinating.

But then you do have to draw a line really. Today's bit of news from the bbc..

"A team of international archaeologists is working round the clock to rescue the wreck of what is thought to be a 16th Century Portuguese trading ship that lay undisturbed for hundreds of years off Namibia's Atlantic coast. "

I'm sorry but spending hundreads of thousands of tax payers hard earned dosh to salvage a used medieval durex or a piece of preserved rotton fruit is not my idea of money well spent. Still, if we're lucky the divers may unearth the first ever portuguse slow cooker. 5oo years later, still probably working and the food inside still fucking inedible. Things dont change.

Recession. Economical collapse. And slow cookers working but at the same time not working.

We deserve it.

Thank god mums gone to iceland?

2008-12-06T09:31:34Z

1) " I kissed a girl and I think I liked it". This song I have heard for the first time today. And it's shit. I wonder if the artist has genuinly played tonsil tennis with the raunchy sumptuous housewife next door or if instead it is a lyrical gimic soley focussed on selling songs by targetting the fantasies of the young and impressionable.

Perhaps thats it. A new career for me.

My debut song " I took a brighton donkey up the old winding tradesman and I think I liked it".

Will it sell millions and transform me into an immidiate overnight success with the likes of angelina joline cueing up to kiss me quick? No.

Arse of a song.

2) Apparently local authorities have invested tax payers hard earned money in some icelandic financial institution. With the economic global down turn hitting our cousins across the water - this appears to have landed our local government in the shit. How unfortunate. However, this does beg the question have people not heard of iceland the forzen food shop? Had they of - and then ventured to the food store - they would assuredly be a little more reticent to invest in this country, The food is shit and it's comprised of the a-z of e numbers. Don't get me wrong - Ive shopped there on occasion myself. But - if I had x billion pounds to fritter away I probably wouldnt.

I want my hard earned tax back. Bankers and civil servants. Thats a poem in the making.

Tosh.

2008-12-06T09:30:11Z

A number of concerns today.

1) My newly acquired preference to sundays over saturdays,

ii) my toe tapping enjoyment of the new girls aloud song.

ii) my empathy and enjoyment of john sergant in strictly nice women in tight shiny lycra dresses. I mean strictly come dancing.

2)I have just read an article of news re: speed of eating and a potential link to obesity. This is decidely worrying. First, what the fuck am I doing reading a news article on a satuday evening. That speaks inaudible volumes. The second, is that it genuinly seems a little flawed in its hypothesis. For instance, what weighs heavier - a tonne of feathers or a tonne of fucking burger meat?

Surely, its of no significance the speed of eating its purely down to the quantity and type of food. If your a gannit and you wolf your dinner down (similar to myself) the only medical impact (in my non-clinically educated opinion) is twofold. Wind and indegestion. Not perhaps the key to obesity as suggested.

3) The third thing is this news artricle, "If you want someone to warm to you give them a steaming hot drink, say US researchers.

People are more likely to judge strangers as welcoming and trustworthy when they are holding a hot cup of coffee, experiments show"

What a load of old tosh.

Seriously though - I thought we were in the middle of a credit crunch.
Who pays for this sort of research. Jesus.