Do I have to get interested in football now?

It would appear that the town where I was fledged¹ appears to have won some sort of football competition and, apparently, gets to play with the big boys next year before presumably crashing ignominiously back into the Coca-Cola-Everest-Double-Glazing Conference League where I assume they have been since I upped sticks and buggered off to somewhere where I could (a) get an education and (b) a job. So congratulations I suppose to Burnley footy club but please don't for a microsecond think that anything on this earth could induce me to stand on the terraces (do they still have those) of Turf Moor again or, to be honest, express any interest in your success or failure at kicking a pigs' bladder around.

Look it's like this. I really could not give a flying fuck about football. The game bores me rigid. I was utterly crap at it at school and always ended up just arseing about in "defence" which meant you got to stand at the back and only had to run about when the other lot ran towards you as far as I could tell. On the rare occasions when some misguided sense of loyalty to my mates in the band I was in lead me to actually attend a match at the aforementioned Turf Moor I never really understood what was going on, didn't know the words to the songs and usually had gone to the bogs or in search of a Bovril when anyone actually scored a goal. So I'm not going to be going out and buying a claret and blue scarf and actually learning the names of the overpaid dicks who actually do the ball kicking stuff if that's OK with you.

Speaking of refreshments I happened to notice that the club sponsor was Hollands Pies who may be the makers of the finest steak puddings on the planet but I doubt lack the financial wherewithal to fund a premier league side.

Mind you finance being what it is you're lucky to have a sponsor and next year we might see you sponsored by the man who sells the pies at the ground.

Mine's a meat and potato, thanks. I'll pass on the Bovril.










¹ Do dragons fledge, not having any feathers and all that?

On y va... on y va... on y va...

Live(ish) blogging Eurovision


Lithuania:
You are not Freddy fucking Mercury. Go away.

Israel:
"There must be another way" goes the song sung by the palestinian and jewish woman. Well as your people have been trying to annailate each other for the past four thousand years maybe you should have fucking found it by now.

France:
Zzzzzz... oh have you finished? Christ that was crap. Fucking hell people in the hall liked that one.

Sweden:
Well I think her dress is stuck to the floor and she is moving around behing it. She looks for all the world like Ulrika Johnson's mum and alternates between spitting her lyrics and screeching in a semi-operatic manner. I think someone from a concrete fabrication company did her teeth. That's one that will sink without trace.

Croatia:
Are not sure if they want to be Greece or Turkey and instead have settled on the little island of Mediocre which sits in the Med between the two countries. A costume change is not going to save this song guys.


Portugal:
First accodion of the evening. She's a big girl, wonder if she has Madelene hidden under her dress. Pleasant enough in a folky sort of way.

Iceland:
Guess Bjork was busy. The staging is great with a big ship floating past in the background but the song is, well, it's just noise. Sure she's cute but so what?


Side note... Graham "Does this cock up my arse make me look gay" Norton who is hosting this year as Terry Wogan has gone home to sulk because we got all those nul points sounds like he is pissed. Word is he fell of a horse and bust a couple of ribs and is on the same painkillers I was on a couple of years ago whick would account for that. Will be interesting if he has a couple of drinks later

Greece: Performed a techno tune on a big stapler. Dull, predictable, will probably win.

Armenia: Just seem to have sent a mess. At least they remembered to put in a key change

Russia: Home field advantage so they get the best graphics with the singer aging on the monster LEDs as she does the song. Shame the singer decided to start sceaming at the end of the song.

Azerbaijan: Aha, we are finally into doubek territory. And like any doubek based song, it's cack.

Bosnia and the other place: Have decided to go for a Napoleonic theme or have heard Andrew Lloyd Uglysod has written our tune and gone for a rip-off Les Misrables. Either way it was pants.

Moldova: First serious folky tune of the night. Bit whacky, silly trumpets, guys in crazy trousers... this is why we watch this competition! There also appears to be a man with a pole.

Malta: Lardarse

Estona: Now this is a good song. The title means "Pikey" but what the hell. The fiddle player can (a) sing and (b) is cute and the song is cleverly structured around what sounds to me like a decending major seventh pattern (proper musicians please feel free to correct me). As my mrs just said "At last, a song". Nice, deserves to win. Won't.

Denmark: Have sent Ronan Keating, kind of. Well at least he wrote the tune and the singer is doing his best to sound Irish. Guys the paddies have failed to fucking qualify for the last two years so maybe you might be better getting someone from somewere ending on "oldova" to write your tune as this is instantly unforgettable radio pap.

Germany: Good job you got a bye to the final song as a D-class Ricky Martin in Bacofoil pants really does not pass muster. Even up-market stripper Dita Von Teese cracking a horsewhip is not going to save you. Quite the opposite in fact.

Turkey: You know how this song is going to sound before they even hit the first note don't you. And Turkey, true to form do not dissapoint with the same doubek and ney flute heavy belly dance tune they have sent to this competition since the fall of the Ottoman empire.

Albania: Hang on didn't Turkey just play this song? Accompanied by a thing that looks like a lump of green putty for some reason known only to the Albanians, presumably.

Norway: Yelly pseudo-folk tune performed by a squirrel on crack playing a fiddle. Why the fuck is this the favourite to win? Did I fall into a parallel universe of shite or something? Oh and fraying a bit of your bow does not make you look more homely, it makes you look like someone who can't maintain his instrument you knob end.


Ukraine: Trojans in bacofoil. Nuff said.

Romania: This one isn't too awful. Gone for a wood nymph theme but if you cast your eyes stage right there is the woman in the six piece (you can only have six people on stage according to the rules) who is just stood there not being filmed. She's the one actually doing the fucking singing. That said by the end of this one there was a little bit of claw tapping happening.

UK: Well here we go. You know I have heard this a few times now and given the standard of entries we might just do well. Just so long as uglysod stays out of shot. Well she impacted the fiddle player, that was sloppy but her voice is holding up. For fucks sake sing the rest don't scream it... Hell she did it! Slight flat note as she wandered away from mr uglysod, and she... cacked up the ending. Oh well. Maybe a top 5.

Finland: Booo... bring back Lordi.

Spain: Appears to have moved a thousand or so miles east and done about the ninth Turkish sounding song of the night. Go away.



Well that has got to be the weakest like up for ages. I think I can say there was not a single song that made my tail wobble tonight. Estonia was to be honest the only one I would give room on the Ipod to and then it wouldn't get onto a playlist. We might just win by default. Mrs D says that as this cost the russkies umpty odd million maybe everyone is trying to lose by default.



Now that is cool... they have got two Cosmonauts on the ISS to start the voting. Nice touch.

So, are we going to try and upstage Riverdance or are we just going to stuff a folk band on?


...no, just some people in paddling pools suspended from the celing.


And the chipmunk on crack won. Why?

Maybe a vodka or two will help me understand...

... no, that didn't work. Night all.

It's that time again

I know I'm not blogging as much as I used to but even I can't let Eurovision pass without a bit of comment.

As you probably know if you're remotely interested in the pan-continental warble-fest that is the ESC this year the UK has decided to, well, try and not come last to be fair. So we have Mr Ugly himself Lloyd Webber knock together a tune and some yank who penned the words to and Aerosmith tune do the lyrics and we ended up with something that sounded like it's a filler song from Les Miserables. Of course we had to have a sort of mini talent contest to pick a singer and ideally this time someone who could (a) sing and (b) wasn't black (as the Eastern Europeans are rumoured to be just a teensy little bit racist). Regrettably (b) excluded the best act in the contest who were a soul vocal outfit who were easily the best so we've ended up with someone who's a bit coffee coloured and can yell but yells in tune.

To be honest the moment I heard the song I thought "Well there's a null pointer and no mistake" but I've managed to catch most of the semis and you know it might just not be. All the "silly" songs have gone apart from one that features some dancers in bacofoil trojan helmets and most folk have gone for ballads or the occasional folk song / predictable belly dance tune (guess what Turkey have sent). Tunewise I'm going for Estonia, a string quintet with a song sung entirely in Estonian.

Apparently the favourite is Norway though fuck knows why as it sounds crap and the singer looks like a gerbil on crack.

I'll be liveblogging it, probably. Depends how drunk I get.

The new prudery

Apparently one of the top 10 complained about advertisments was one for a fizzy french orange drink with 286 complaints. So what was so distressing about the frogs pimping sugary water that tastes like sick¹. People apparenty "complained about the overly sexual nature of the scene."

Yeah, ok. But the advert featured CARTOON ANIMALS for fucks sake.

Here it is, take a look...



Actually that antelope is pretty hot, nearly as good as the Cadbury Caramel bunny.

OK so rather amusing, couple of film references in there to American Beauty and that one with the woman doing the shower thing on stage and it's all a bit tongue in cheek and a bit of fun - mind you the squid thing is a bit creepy. So what is wrong with these 280 odd people that they could be so bothered by that that they got off their wobbly arses and took time to write a letter of complaint! Hell what you just saw was the unexpurgated French version so I bet the 30 second UK one was a hell of a lot tamer.

I'm seeing more and more of this. It's the new prudery and we need to fight back people. I say more furry boobs and sexually provocative jungle creatures straddling bottles and dancing to salsa tunes.


PS: Second zebra from the left... anyone have her phone number?

¹ Actually it doesn't, I rather like it

Mathematics for Dragons

I can has a new blog.

I'm keeping this one of course but I've started a new blog called Mathematics for Dragons where I'm going to post all my adding up related witterings and musings on sums, kicking off with what actually happens when you try and divide by zero.

Probably not a lot of swearing, well not until the course get to calculus anyway.

It's the end of the world as we know it...

... and I feel a touch of flu coming on.

And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death,
and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part
of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the
beasts of the earth.

I have a couple of ponies... maybe they have a vacancy for a fifth horseman:

And I looked and behold a small black Dartmoor pony; and his name that sat on
her was Dragon and a scooter from the indian take-away carrying a chicken
jalfrezi followed with him. And power was given unto Dragon over ye interweb so
that he might stomp around and curse and drink beer.

Well so far I think more people have died from bizarre bathplug related injuries than have died of the flu. Sure I know that this could become a pandemic but after H5N1, Ebola, Marburg and that one that made you think you were a marmoset¹ you can forgive me if I think I can hear someone shouting Canis Lupus here.

For the best commentary though you have to turn to the intarwebs and in particularly that paragon of sensible and mature debate "Have Your Say" on the BBC news website.

Despite being a moderated forum moderation seems to go as far as someone making sure not too many instances of the word "fuck" get through because every conspiracy theorist and loon from here to Timbuctoo has sprung up here. The best examples so far are:

• This is Allah's punishment on infidels for eating pork, as muslims don't eat pork then muslims won't catch swine flu
• This is a genetically engineered virus that has been deliberately released by the CIA / Mossad / Illuminati / Tufty Club to cull the human population
• Aliens did it
• If you are vegetarian you won't catch it
• The "Case Zero" pig needs to be found and the owner punished
• Its because of Climate Change

I was going to weigh in with "It's Gordon Brown's fault" but I notice the moderation queue is currently standing at over 1000 posts.

Just to be on the safe side if anyone approaches me who has a slight sniffle I'll set them alight. Can't be too careful.

¹ I think I might have dreamed that one.

Yeah, that should work.

It would seem that later on this week the City of London is going to be invaded by a rag-tag collection of the great unwashed, eco-nazis, trustafarians and other sundry wastes of DNA all no doubt scrounging the dole (well they are not earning a living or they would be at work on Wednesday wouldn't they?). Naturally as the paedophiles de jour they will be coming to the banks and no doubt shouting at us for daring to have made some money and then, well, losing it.

We have been told that we should not "engage with" the protesters, which is a shame as I was looking forward to getting stuck in and should "call the police if we feel threatened." Yeah, right.

But the best bit is that we have been instructed that in order to keep a low profile we should all dress "casually" for the next few days. Now nobody in The City has worn a tie for years and so being pretty casual its hard to see how much more scruffy we can get. However some of my colleagues in "distressed" jeans and t-shirts were making a fair fist of it this morning.

Quite how this wizard wheeze is supposed to help us avoid the protesters bent on the destruction of capitalism has not really been explained to us, especially when the awkward little green dragon pointed out that we would be walking out of a building with "Banko Di Haggis" written on the front in 20 foot high illuminated letters.

That, combined with our front-of-house security team consisting of Wilf and Albert who have a combined age of 160 and who look like they would have trouble remaining perpendicular to the floor in a modest breeze are not exactly filling me with confidence so I'm planning on bringing in my nunchuks in on Wednesday.

Condoms or USB Sticks

I got a couple of cheapie USB memory sticks at the weekend off Ebay. This is the packet they came in...



Can't help thinking that Whang Whang Print And Box Co. of Shenzen happened to have been packaging condoms just prior to packaging these and just went "ah fuck it, keep the picture, just change the words"

Princess of Fucking Hearts II

OK so Jade fucking Goody has finally shuffled off this mortal coil and joined the Choir Invisible.

Now can we all try very fucking hard not to turn her into the next pissing Princess Diana. I'm watching the BBC News and every twat on the programme is going on about what a marvellous person she was, what a wonderful mother she was, honestly she was not a racist even though there was all that business with that woman from India and, icing on the cake, we have had some bishop saying what a deep and spiritual person she was who has "captured the hearts of the nation" or some such fucking platitude.

Let's get a grip here. This is someone who is famous for being famous and who made pig shit look like it had a PhD. Sure she died of cancer which sucks but how many other people died of cancer today... let me tell you, based on the 2006 statistics over 420 people will die of various cancers today. 419 of them will not have Max Clifford raking in thousands for the people they leave behind, they won't have some kiddy fiddling bishop eulogising them on national television, they won't be a candidate for the next fucking Princess of Hearts.

Well she has got one thing in common with Princess D, they have about the same IQ.

Desperate Voices

You know I think that you must be able to get hold of a satellite channel for thruppence and a pickled egg these days. Having an arse about on a mate's satellite rig I managed to get hold of a channel called "Gay Chat". The premise of this channel seems to be if you are terminally shy with a lousy phone manner and you would like to get some botty action you ring up at 25p a minute, leave a message and presumably people ring in and ask to talk to "Barry in Stoke who likes dressing up and is flexible".

I sat there transfixed for ages. A parade of the lost and lonely, you could hear the desperation in the voices, "I'm Frances," said a chap probably called Sidney putting on his best husky female voice, "please come and dress me up." Then there were the poor sods who straight after saying "I'm Mike", probably then said "I like horsecock" and they edited it so all you got was "I'm Mike" which I'm guessing isn't going to get him many responses and the funniest one had to be the guy who came on and in a tired, bored voice simply said "I'm Pete and I'm in Derby".

I've been to Derby. I sympathise.

Call after call emphasising how they were not a timewaster, that they were "genuine", that they "could accomodate, looking for a meet tonight" which I am assuming for "I am alone in my little flat and I need some human company, please don't fuck me over like so many tossers have done before"

And the cruellest irony came after a few minutes when I heard "I'll be in Barnstaple this Friday, January the 9th"... the fucking calls weren't even current! Somebody somewhere was rolling around in fivers culled from the 10p a minute he got from every desperate twat who rang his 0898 number to be dissapointed yet again. I guess if worst comes to worst he can always pay for the company.

A couple of channels down were about thirty similar channels for heterosexuals, all the same, all just as desperate.