Rant of the Week: Bobby

Less of a rant this week, more of a lament.

Football is shite.

Fact.

I loathe myself for liking it. I loathe myself for paying attention to the antics of people who behave slightly less well than Michael Moore would do if given five minutes alone with George Bush and a baseball bat.

The fact is that football as I grew up with it doesn't exist any more. The Premiership has destroyed any possibility of teams such as my "beloved" Blackpool getting to the pinacle of footballing achievement. The money circulating in the Premiership could help sort out the debts of several small countries. And increasingly the football itself is an irrelevence. People are more concerned with the fact that Wayne Rooney has been tied up and spanked by a 60 year old in leather than the fact that he hasn't kicked a football in four months, yet is still worth £25 million.

Actually, the Wayne Rooney thing is a good example of what winds me up. Firstly, who actually gives a shit that he's been sleeping with prostitutes, apart from his fiancée (who is understandably a tad peeved)? You give a 17 year old lad £20 000 a week - what's he going to spend it on? Copies of the Bible?

Secondly, in what world is it deemed proper to put a picture of a middle-aged prostitute on the front cover of a newspaper with the headline "Don't Fancy Yours Much, Wayne"? This woman probably isn't too pleased about the fact that she earns a living by spanking teenage lads who earn more in a week than she does in a year. Yet in addition to this, she has to put up with a national newspaper saying "Hey! You're a Boot!" on its front page. Wankers.

Basically, football is the equivalent of "Coronation Street" for lads. Few people care that much about the result, they just want to find out about who Keiron Dyer is shagging this week.

I am generalising here a bit. I have a good friend who is a Torquay fan. He lives and breathes his team, and despite living in Windsor, he drives to see them most weekends. He cares about how well they does. It upsets him when they lose, but not so much that it affects his life. He only gets upset if there wasn't an enjoyable game played - even if the majority of the good play was done by the opposing team.

On the other hand, I have an acquaintance who thinks this attitude of giving plaudits to the other team is an example of weak minded-ness. He claims to support Arsenal but has never seen them play. And every week, his mood changes depending on the weekend's result. You'd think, given Arsenal's recent form, he'd be happy, but no. In fact, in the middle of last season,. when Arsenal were unbeaten in the English league, but not doing so well in Europe, he was calling for Wenger to be sacked, because "'e's French, in'e? 'e don't understand the European game."

And it's attitudes like this that make me hate football. Yet the bald truth is that, however much I hate it, if I stop following it, that means there's a whole section of society who I can't communicate with. As loathsome as it is, football is a great ice breaker in conversation, and particularly when moving around with a job, it's useful to have something like this which can be used to build bridges. Not many people want to discourse on my favourite subject, music, but there'll be plenty of people wishing to pass comment on the big non-event of football this week.

Anyway, this whole rant was sparked by what happened to Sir Bobby Robson. The Guardian has some good comment on this, in particular, a decent article by Gordon Strachan last week. It's a shame when someone who loves their club so much can't bring them the success he and they so desperately want. But sentimentality doesn't balance the books unfortunately. And similarly, the manager is fairly unimportant today when placed next to the gigantic egos of some players (Dyer and Bellamy - stand up you worthless scum).

I just hope he doesn't get too downhearted and realises the important thing behind this.

It's only a game.

"I'm not doing anything tonight, and I'm not doing anything tomorrow morning..."

Well, the boys did it. They talked the talk, and now they've walked the walk (I'm sorry, that's utterly lame. Please kill me now).

Yes, my beloved friends have completed the Coast to Coast walk, and they even seem to be fairly sane after it. At least, as sane as they ever were. The G-Man has already been in contact, and given my blog some free publicity, which is handy. It seems that the final leg was the hardest, as many traps befell our party. It seems there were various temptations that lay in wait...alcohol, curly-haired temptresses...luckily, there were some calm heads who guided them through the traps and on to Mount Doom...well, nude swimming at any rate.

So congrats boys on a job well done.

They've all gone mad!!!

Well, after a day of inactivity from the walkers, where I became convinced Rich had led them to some hideous end (possibly involving Sirens in an "Odyssey"-esque manner), they have spluttered back to life. And it's not looking good. Ibs appears to have cracked and is brandishing lethal sticks, while the G-man's feet look like they're doomed. I think conclusive proof is provided however, by the fact that they were pleased to have found a Weatherspoons...

Will they make it to the end alive? I don't know about you, but I'm on tenterhooks.

On a different note, isn't it nice to see what's happening to "Sir" Mark Thatcher? Quite what he did to deserve his knighthood no-one seems to know, but we know that he specialised in f*cking over small foreign countries (unlike his mum, who just vigourously shafted our pleasant land). But seeing what's happening now to him, you just feel that there is something like karma that exists in the universe...

Bobbins

As you can see form the right hand side of the page, I've added a new thingy listing what I'm listening to this week. Mostly today, it's been The Doors "Strange Days". It's a very good album, worth buying for "Love me Two Times", "Strange Days", and "People are Strange" alone.

But there's one fly in the ointment. One misjudgement. One turd floating in the clear blue waters.

Horse Latitudes.

Anyone who knows this album will know what I mean. If you DON'T know the album, I urge you to go out and listen to it, simply because I want to share my pain with people.

It's AWFUL.

It's at the very beginning of Jim Morrison's pretentious "I Am A Poet" phase - I think the praise for the compelling (if slightly juvenile) lyrics of "The End" had gone to his head.

"When the still sea conspires an armour
And her sullen and aborted currents breed tiny monsters
True sailing is dead
Awkward instant
And the first animal is jettisoned
Legs furiously pumping their stiff green gallop
And heads bob up
Poise
Delicate
Pause
Consent
In mute nostril agony
Carefully refined
And sealed over."

Total and utter arse. And that's just the lyrics. His delivery of them rivals The Shat at his very best / worst (delet as applicable).

Just felt the need to share that with you...

P.S. Girish's blog is down and there's no word from the kiddies. I truly believe Rich has led them all to their Doom.

The road goes ever on

A further update last night from the quest for the East Coast:

"Good day today. Was let loose with the map...."

Now this is a bad thing, given that Rich (who is the kind gent keeping me updated) is not the most reliable of people with a map. It's not that he can't read them - he can - but he's convinced he can find quicker routes between places than any map. And also, as can be guaged from his previous messages, if he sees an attractive lady, then he's lost to us...

"...Found I'm a little more direct in my route planning than Mr Wainwright. Got charged by some hungry cows. Jumped the nearest wall I could find. Fastest I'd moved all day."

The omens do not look good while Richie-boy is at the helm...

Rant of the Week: Stupid People (pt. I)

A bonus rant this week, simply because I need to bring someone's utter and complete STUPIDITY to peoples' attention.

I was listening to the Radio last night ("Face the Facts", Radio 4, 21:00 - yes, I know I'm a pretentious arse). The programme was about persecution of innocent people by extreme animal rights groups. Now, obviously this programme is not going to present the most balanced of views, and anyone they interview from the animal rights side of things will probably be chosen from the more insane side of the spectrum. But one guy on there REALLY took things too far. I won't name him (mainly because I've tried to forget he exists, in the same way that if you ignore the madmen on the street they go away). But this individual went on radio saying:

"We're dealing with the animal holocaust here."

WHAT?!!!!!!!!!!!!

Right, backtrack a bit. What we're dealing with here is experimentation on animals, for medical or other purposes. What we are NOT dealing with is the decision of a group of people to systematically exterminate an entire section of society across the globe. The term "holocaust" is being malappropriated on a worryingly increasing scale.

IT'S NOT APPROPRIATE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The holocaust was a singularly disgusting act in our history and applying it to something which (let's be fair) is not on the same scale is wrong and deeply disrespectful to the many thousands of people still alive today who were related to people who suffered and perished during the purges. Yet this incompetent little tw*t said this three times during his interview. You know, sod animal experiments, let's just experiment on this little ape! He clearly has no advanced cognitive functions. He is trying to compare the mass extermination of a people based on little more foundation than the fact that they follow a different form of religion, to the experimentation on, ooh, maybe 200 fluffy little animals. THIS MAN IS A CRETIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now of course, if he were ever to read this he'd think "Ah, sympathiser, let's burn him!". And, no doubt like in the rest of his life, he'd be wrong. I don't agree with animal testing. Or at least certain aspects of it. I certainly think there has to be a better way of testing out deodorants, make-up etc. than brutalising creatures. But if an experiment on an animal will help find a cure to save someone the life of someone close to me, or even me, then I will not object. This is a case of double standards, I know, but I think some testing is justified, when the benefits and outcome of said testing will result in the prevention of human suffering.

I think that the whole animal rights movement would do well to disassociate itself from the rants of little oiks like that buffoon last night. He gives an organisation which has some valid points and arguments, (and which does a lot of good) a bad name, and does far more harm than good.

Quest for the East Coast...

The wandering band of fools were ominously silent on Friday and Saturday. Then lo-and-behold, I received the following on Sunday evening...

"Presently in Shap. We are tired, but content. There are foxy women in Shap."

Glad to see they have their priorities straight. I have also discovered that, when not chasing ladies, they are posting on Girish's blog. Complete with gruesome pictures. I'm so happy it's raining...

More brownie points for my physio, following more helpful advice and machinations on my behalf - she really does rock.

Free advertising service

My beloved compadre and fellow musical terrorist Andy is commencing his career as a solo performer this weekend, having the opening and closing slots at the "Unsigned and Unplugged Festival" at SpaceTwoTenTwo in Whitechapel (that's him in the picture at the bottom left on the web link). He's got a rather special talent on acoustic guitar, and rather a nice voice. So people should go and hear him. Even if he is appearing in a too-trendy part of the world...

By the way, no update from the intrepid wanderers today. Therefore I assume that one of the following will have happened to them:

1) They've been stranded halfway up a mountain

2) They've fallen off a cliff to their doom

3) Girish has gone mad and killed them all in a fit of whiskey-fuelled rage

4) They've inconsiderately chosen to hike up somewhere where there's no mobile reception...

Rant of the Week: The A-Level "fiasco"

And now we have a special new feature on my blog...a rant of the week entry!

Oh yes, finally I can vent my spleen in public. And what better way to kick this new chapter off than on the subject of A-level results.

I remember one day in 1997, the trepidation with which my intrepid group of friends and I ventured out of the deathtrap known as "Bob" (a green Y-reg Triumph Acclaim) and into College, knowing that when we came out, our lives would be changed forever...OK, that's a bit overdramatic, I know, but it was pretty important for us - our A-level results were going to determine whether we ended up at the Uni or job of our choice, or instead plunged us into St Bobbins' School of Needlework for the Terminally Dim. It meant a lot to us. And certain newspapers and commentators conspired to dump copiously over our achievements.

To come out and see the "outraged" headlines of certain rags that "A-Levels are too easy", and that there was a Government conspiracy to ensure the "Dumbing down of our youth" left me foaming at the mouth. Do we sense a bitterness from them? How many of the people writing these articles did badly at school? How many missed out on their A grades because they were too cool to study? I cannot believe they are STILL persisting with this pathetic and irritating denigration of the achievements of school children.

What kind of country do we live in when we complain because people are too bright? You cna bet all the money you've got that if the A-level pass rates started to fall, these same venemous little sh*ts would be up in arms claiming "Teaching Standards are Plummeting", and "Schools Failing". It's utterly pathetic, outrageous and wrong.

There may BE a case for A-levels getting easier. Certainly teaching nowadays is more geared towards getting results and focussing purely on exam syllabus material rather than subject-wide analysis. But I think it's a little childish and cruel to trumpet this on the front pages of our newspapers for all the world to see in the most lurid way possible. As usual, our press has failed to be socially responsible in the search for sales and shock value, and has ended up being utterly reprehensible.

There we go. A bit of a brief rant, as it's late and I need to get out of here. But hope you like it and agree with it.

Bone-crunching...

Hello one and all

I feel the need today to praise a group of people who work for that much-maligned institute, the NHS.

Yes, my favourite people in the world today are physiotherapists. I've had two lengthy experiences of NHS Physio over the past couple of years, and on both occasions they've been friendly, knowledgeable, helpful, and tireless. I guess there are some perks of the job - if anyone's rude to you, you can make sure they get a REALLY painful work out that week - but they must see so many middling cases (of which I no doubt am one) and yet still seem to remain upbeat and positive, and give each person a thorough examination and work out.

Basically, this is a bit of a waffle really, but I just wanted to acknowledge these lovely, lovely people - I'm looking forward to my upcoming sessions...

I've lied already...

I'm back sooner than I expected...

A few of my beloved and closest friends have decided to do the Coast-to-Coast this year (I wimped out and am doing it next year. Possibly with the same people. Mad, crazy fools).

I thought it's only fair to publish the regular updates I get throughout the course of the ordeal.

"Day 1:

Aha, top of the first peak. A small hill named Dent. It is windy. Which is fortunate as it's dried us off from this morning's soaking."

Doesn't it make you feel glad to be a lazy sod?

Argh! I've finally done it!

Bugger.

I've finally done it. I've got myself one of these blog thingies.

I've been meaning to for ages, even though a) I've got nothing interesting to say (unlike Tom Reynolds, author of the blog "Random Acts of Reality", which is required reading every day) and b) I'm not (officially) insane (unlike "Scaryduck". The name says it all). But this is response really to my beloved friend Jon's comment that "You have to be a bit odd and narcissistic to do one of these". It's pretty much true, especially at the moment when you think that no-one except me is going to read this, but hey!

Anyway, I'm going to go, after this pointless introduction. I have decided that tomorrow will be the start of my blogging life...procrastination is the finest of arts...