The Ill Man's New Year Message

I am hungover. I am tired. I am trying to watch Chewin' The Fat............... So without further ado, the final two entries in my ALBUM OF THE YEAR countdown. 2- Funeral: Arcade Fire 1- Confessions On A Dancefloor: Madonna There. Now sod off.

Someone Save Me From Hogmanay!!

I hate it. More than I hate Christmas. All that fake bonhomie, all that nostalgic pish, the dull relatives..............A few drinks then early to bed I think. Well, woke up at 9.30 this morning. Combined with the previous nights snow turning to slush and making it almost impossible to get to work, it made for the most distressing morning possible. Supervisor took it well. Can't keep doing it though. Thats three times in about two months i've been hugely late. Over at Clairwil meanwhile, one can find out some interesting things about Uzbekistan, just on the off chance you fancied a wee winter break there...... Check the comments for the wit and wisdom of David Duff too. A man of unparalled insight and intelligence I think you'll find....... ALBUM OF THE YEAR (Cont) Yes, It's still going........... 4- Elevator by Hot Hot Heat: Canadas Hot Hot Heat are more than just a tad underrated. Appearing roughly around the same time as The Strokes, they sounded a tad too much like The Cure in places, but their debut Make Up To Break Up was still the sort of thing you would stick on at a party before shouting at people for not dancing to it (the ignorant pricks). Elevator irons out the rough edges and presents a band who know they are fucking awesome but the rest of the planet are still asleep(or listening to Franz Ferdinand to put it less politely) Highlights? All of it, but Island Of The Honest Men, Running Out Of Time and Pickin' It Up should all convince you of their genius without any trouble. 3- Capture/Release by The Rakes: They sound like The Futureheads do The Rakes. No bad thing. Lyrically i'm reminded of Wire, Buzzcocks and The Jam. This short and sweet offering is highly addictive and acts as a sort of hymn to the weekly work/party/shag/drop dead routine of a million hollow eyed twenty something office scrotes across the nation. Fine stuff. Final two tomorrow folks, if you can wait that long................ aloha!

Christ It's Freezing!!

It took ten minutes for the feeling to return to my legs this morning. Not nice. Now it's started snowing. Shite! Had hoped to put some of my own photos up tonight but Blogger is playing silly bastards with me so it'll have to be another "stockshot". Sorry. My rule with snow is the same as my rule with bodies of water. Lovely to look at as long as you don't expect me to go out in the stuff. I do hope the worst has past. We've had a light dusting out here in the west end. It's a pity the private school down the road isn't back yet or I would almost certainly see some hopeless cunt in a 4x4 come a cropper at some point. These are the little things that make life worth living, don't you think? Albums Of The Year - Ok, boring stuff, but I feel I can't let the year pass without selecting six of the best. Two tonight, two on Friday and the final two on saturday if I haven't lost the will to live............... 6- Bloc Party: Silent Alarm One of those records that unravels itself slowly in front of you and leaves you wondering how you lived without it. Obtuse but distinctive guitars, a genius drummer, delicate vocals and discreet but effective backing vocals are the base elements, all cut through with a world weary sadness that seems to be utterly genuine. 5- Eugene Kelly: Man Alive Eugene Kelly has been about as long as I can remember. His band was called Captain America until someone at DC(or is it Marvel?) decided otherwise. The band became Eugenius and released a rather fine record called Oomalama. Kelly had previously been in The Vaselines, a sort of c86 indie band. Their claim to fame was having three of their songs covered by Nirvana. One would have been forgiven for assuming that the big time was beckoning, but instead Kelly rumbled through the nineties in virtual annonymity. I will admit to losing touch with the great man since Oomalama and i'm not sure what he's released in the past five to ten years but this is an unexpectedly good record. As good as the last Teenage Fanclub Album. It's certainly varied, ranging from country ballads and Dylan-esque acoustic tracks to genuinely inspired moments of poptastic genius, the lyrics both caustic and heartbroken. To Be Continued.....................

Is That All There Is?

Evening all. Normality returns, and with it my good cheer. Almost. I really must do better next year. A week in the highlands at a remote B+B, or maybe a week in Prague....(Yes!!Yes!!) Boxing day was utterly ruined by the fact I spent two hours in baltic conditions watching Partick Thistle. I was never taken to the circus as a child but thanks to our very own ringmaster Dangerous Dick Campbell I got to see what I may have missed. There were no elephants, lions or ball juggling sea lions, though there were eleven brightly clad clowns masquerading as footballers. All they needed at full time was a car for them all to pile into so that the wheels and doors could fall off................. If you have quicktime you can have a bit of a laugh here. SPIELBERGS PRAYER FOR PEACE Couldn't help noticing that Steven Spielberg has made a film about the 1972 Munich Olympics murders and the reprisals meted out by Mossad. It's been slagged a bit by Israeli critics anyway, but it would seem that one of the masterminds behind the Black September group who murdered eleven Israeli athletes, Mohammed Daoud, has stuck his boot into it as well. To be honest, his problem was more to do with not getting a call to act as a consultant than anything else. He's unrepentant about his actions, which is to be expected. He may well have made a decent contribution to the film had he been asked but this is Spielberg and Hollywood, and the outrage that would have ensued had he taken part in the making of the film would have been commercial suicide. Ironically, it would have made me want to see the film even more...............Filthy terrorist lover that I am. As it is, i'll wait for full reviews before I decide to see this one. Interesting Viewpoint. Arabic Uncle Tom or the painfull truth? Une Bonne Nuit À Vous Toute!

If You Must

Happy Christmas. Awoken rudely by my grandfather this morning on an insane mission to hand his christmas present to me personally. He got as far as tripping over my amp and considering he's a ninety year old man of limited mobility, he did a damn fine job of staying on his feet. Must be some sort of death wish. Anyway, it all trundled by with little or no excitement. Eric babbled on about everything and nothing. At one point I wondered aloud how Lennoxtown would cope in his abscence. To hear Eric, you'd think he ran the place. Maybe he does.............. Marion, my fathers step sister arrived at about four and was unbearably nice, as she always is........In the only real action of the day my father had a shouting match over the Turkey with Grandpa about personal freedom and whether or not people should be protected from their own stupidity. Both sides made salient points but ultimately I couldn't give a fuck, so I went back to annoying people by pointing my new digital camera at them and firing off random pictures. Which leaves me here, fat as a fucking cow, slightly drunk and truly hoping they ban the whole pointless charade by next year. So There..............!

Sweet Christ, I Am So Tired.............................

Continuing my inexplicable fetish for snow scenes, todays picture is of a train somewhere south of the Ayrshire town of Maybole. It's by a chap called Brian Wotherspoon and I think it's a damn fine image. Todays All-In-One Christmas shop did for me. All bar a few items were purchased in one mad dash from Glasgow Cross, along Argyll Street, up Buchanan Street and onto Sauchiehall Street. Feeling a tad weary from the night before didn't help........ Having to swim against a tide of disgusting human detritous didn't help....... Not being able to figure out what to get for my brother didn't help............ I could go on, but I have neither the energy nor inclination. Let's just say that i'd sooner kill myself than endure that ever again. Goodnight my lovelies

More Snow Scene Bollocks

A little less urban this time. This was taken somewhere in the Eiffel Mountains in Germany. Nothing as such to report tonight. Clairwils latest missive is worth a look if you give a damn about skilled and intelligent people being kicked out of a country with a declining population to satisfy the percieved pathological xenophobia of Sun and Daily Mail readers that the labour party are banking on to get them in for another term. hasta la vez próxima............

I'm A What?

Having failed to write a single Christmas card this year(And why the fuck should I?), I have decided instead to dig out some festive looking nonsense from my archive in the lead up to Christmas and New Year. Todays offering is four badly dressed Mancs wandering up a picturesque snow lined avenue somewhere in the last century. That apart, I have Thieved a quiz shamelessly from the vaults of Tampon Teabag. Too good to miss really. What Kind Of Humanist Are You? To give you all a hoot, i'm what's known as a Haymaker..... "You are one of life’s enjoyers, determined to get the most you can out of your brief spell on Earth. Probably what first attracted you to atheism was the prospect of liberation from the Ten Commandments, few of which are compatible with a life of pleasure. You play hard and work quite hard, have a strong sense of loyalty and a relaxed but consistent approach to your philosophy. You can’t see the point of abstract principles and probably wouldn’t lay down your life for a concept though you might for a friend. Something of a champagne humanist, you admire George Bernard Shaw for his cheerful agnosticism and pursuit of sensual rewards and your Hollywood hero is Marlon Brando, who was beautiful, irascible and aimed for goodness in his own tortured way. Sometimes you might be tempted to allow your own pleasures to take precedence over your ethics. But everyone is striving for that elusive balance between the good and the happy life. You’d probably open another bottle and say there’s no contest." Total bollocks and unnervingly accurate in equal measures. fino a domani

You Smooth Talkin' Devil You...................

Evenin' all............ All fuckin four of you........................ I wish i'd never installed that bloody tracker. I remember a time when I was blissfully unaware of who was or was not accessing my blog. Only kidding. I love you all. Every person that's accessed this journal of banality, outrage-by-rote and the odd nice photo. Happy Christmas to ye all....................... Someone said a bizarre thing to me the other day. I was doing what I do at work, in this case, a bit of filing. Some bloke asked me one of those cretinous questions about my haircut(very short), you know, "Does your head not get cold................?", that sort of thing. Anyway, I said something dull that doesn't bear repeating. The girl sitting opposite said bloke then says something that i'm only just getting to grips with.................... "You've got a very soothing voice" I KID YOU NOT!!!!!!!! I didn't quite know what to say or where to put myself. I mumbled something, I think I said "Oh, I know". Obviously I didn't know, but it was all my helpless brain could muster in the circumstances. I made my exit and wandered back to my seat. Needless to say I now have my sights set on a position as a Radio 3 continuity announcer. Failing that she was taking the piss................I just wish people wouldn't.

Random Stuff

I see that the attempt to impose a speed limit on Loch Lomond has fallen through. Am I missing something? You want to go up and down aimlessly on your speedboat/jetski etc? Well do it somewhere else. Try the sea. Windsurfers canoe-ists and sailors are fine, as are others who use the Loch, but it would seem that the economy of the area would die without rich, stupid cunts coming up from the Glasgow suburbs with their glorified bath toys. Why? They bring their own bloody fuel anyway.....................Can anyone inform me of what these people bring to a local economy that other loch visitors don't? In other news, I discovered today that my workmate is a bit mad. We had an interesting discussion about abortion and euthanasia. he's opposed to both. Fine. I told him I was in favour of choice. he couldn't believe what I was saying. Amused me no end that. He's not religous, not particularly moral etc, but his biggest problem was with turning off life support machines or withdrawing feeding tubes from the severely brain damaged, even at the behest of the family. He tried unsuccessfully to convince me that to do such a thing is morally repugnant. He couldn't believe I was so cold. I prefer rational to be honest. I was saved from further interrogation by a trip to the Koh I Noor curry house along the road for "Christmas Lunch". Well, it was a cheap common or garden buffet curry, but the change was welcome. Very nice interior too, which was rounded of with a fountain of all things, in the centre of the restaurant. Right I'm off to watch 24 Hour Party People, the rather fine, if utterly apocryphal biopic about Factory Records, The Hacienda and Tony Wilson. Goodnight!

Search Engines Say The FUNNIEST THINGS!!!!!!

.........Depends on what you define as "Funny". Hello. I'm changing the name of this blog. There have been some distinctly unappealing search engine entries appearing in my tracker and I want this to stop. This blog will be known in the interim as "The Ill Man". I hope this is not too big a problem for those who link to me. I'd just keep the links as they are if I were you............ On an lighter note... a big up for The Chambers Twentieth Century Dictionary. I have just realised that I cannot fucking spell and probably never could. This big red beastie has been lying beside my pc for months and has aided me a great deal in my blogging, ensuring I don't end up looking like the illiterate bozo I'm beginning to realise I am. It's also a majestic read, if you take a moment to read a page or two. Gute nacht meine freunde

Give It Up Audley...................

Not being the worlds biggest boxing fan, I missed most of tonights Commonwealth title bout between Audley Harrison and DannyWilliams. To be honest, I wished I hadn't bothered. I flicked over in round eight to see two chaps lumbering about the ring, Williams making some effort to instigate a bit of a scrap, Harrison merely using his height advantage and superior reach to palm off the attentions of his opponent. It would seem that this was how the fight had been going for most of it's duration. Harrisons somnambulant approach failed to pay off and Williams had him on the deck in round ten and then looked to have taken the final round. Two of the three judges agreed that Harrison was shite and gave the decision to Williams. The point? Why the Fuck do boxing crowds get all wet in the nether regions over heavyweights? They're shite. They're unfit, sloppy, and most of all they're boring. I missed the Amir Khan bout, but by all accounts he produced some fireworks. Typical of the little guys. Khan's fight was only four rounds and was merely warm up to the real thing. The real thing turned out to be two fat old ladies swinging their handbags at each other. I have a novel idea. Make Heavyweight bouts six rounders. Theres nothing sadder than watching these bloaters dead on their feet by round ten after having done nothing more than throw a few tentative jabs at each other for half an hour. If these two are the best the UK can come up with in the heavyweight division, then surely it falls to young Mr Khan to show what entertaining boxing is all about. Heres hoping.......................

Reeves, You Workshy Fop...................

As a cursory glance at my tracker tells me, an abscence of a few days will lead to a dramatic and rather depressing drop off in visitors to this here blog. So, in the abscence of anything worth posting I shall take this opportunity to flash up a picture of Bob Mortimer as the fabulous Graham Lister. Further links to Big Night Out lore here and here. I feel like a very, very old man now...................... Goodnight.

Mainly Football I'm Afraid...................

Hello............ Oh dear. It's been a while hasn't it? I have to get my posting here into some sort of routine. I've had a few things to attend to to over the past few days but really it's no excuse. First of all, congratulations to David Cameron on winning the race for the leadership of the Tory party. I look forward to New Labour and New Tory biffing it out over that prized piece of centre right political territory that the voters of this fair isle seem to go completely crazy for. It would seem the unfortunate Paul Gascoigne has had a torrid few days. Sacked from his job at non league Kettering Town and now behind bars for an assault on a photographer. I know nothing of the situation to be honest, except what the owner of Kettering has stated to the media. On one hand it's possible that poor old Gazza simply couldnt lay off the sauce. On the other, it's entirely possible that the chairman decided Gascoigne was a bit of a lemon as far as management was concerned and realised he'd made a mistake in employing him. Gazza should console himself with the fact that better coaches have been fired for little or no reason. John McCormack and George Burley could testify to that....................... Also a big shout to Rangers for getting into the last sixteen of the Champions League(European Cup in old money) Final proof, as if any were needed, that Falkirk, Livingston and Dundee United are every bit as good as Inter Milan and the Italian superstars have some way to go before they can consider themselves the equal of the likes of the mighty Hibernian and Aberdeen. Clairwil did a rather fine piece a few days ago on the great Jose Mourinho. I must say I agreed wholeheartedly with her assessment of the man, but tonights tie against Liverpool showed the flipside of this genius. An inability to admit that one of his players couldnt tackle a fish supper and should have been sent off for a knee high, studs up tackle that on another day would have snapped his opponents leg in two. No, oor Jose "Didn't see it". Funny, he see's just about everything else............

ill man Seeks Some Consumer Advice

Hello folks. Just a short post tonight. I was wondering if any of you could recommend an MP3 player to me. I'm looking for something cheap(ish) and easy to use. About half to one Gig would be ideal. The reason I ask is that I have barely a fucking clue what to buy. I know that anything under sixty quid will be shite, but betond that............. Failing that i'll just have to stick with me trusty old Walkman. I'm quite attatched to it actually. Still works after all these years and should do for a fair few more. Anyway, that's all for now.

About Ruddy Time!!!

Black Sabbath to enter Rock'n'Roll Hall Of Fame. Whit? It's taken until 2006 for the Sab to gain entry to that old dump? These four Brummie gents, without whom generations of American youth would have grown up listening to Perry Como or something, have only just set foot in what is meant to be the pantheon of modern popular music. I know they only have a handfull of inductees a year, but surely Sabbath would have been a no brainer at least ten years ago? no? Ok, maybe it's me........ I see that The Sex Pistols are to be inducted too............I'd love to see Mr Lydon on hand to accept this accolde but something tells me it'll be Fatty Jones and Glen Matlock. Matlock incidentaly appeared recently with comedy punk band The Paddingtons at the opening of a plaque commemorating something or other to do with "Punk". Maybe it commemorated the time Steve Jones...

BOO!!!

Good Evening. Long time since the last post. Hope you're all well. Not a lot to tell about the last week or so it has to be said, though I do keep getting visits from strange cats. One keeps coming into the close and finding it's way into the house. The other, a gorgeous white, black and brown chap appeared at my kitchen window sill last night, stared in for a while, then promptly turned his back on us. Effortlessly rude and charming in equal measures.............. Other news: A Mischief Of Magpies has just flung it's doors open to the masses. It's either a genius idea or an act of madness. Maybe a bit of both. So what are you waiting for.................?

Blogging Blind

Just a quickie tonight. For the second month in a row, i'm running low on time on my flat rate connection.The alternative is a pay per minute connection which can't be used for any more than about ten minutes without racking up a monstrous bill. The result of this is that I have roughly 14 hours of internet time to last until the third of December. As a result i'm blogging on a text document on my desktop. I then copy and paste to the template and voila!, my latest dribblings.....Then I run away and hide. The reason for running short on time is probably due to my blogging. losing track of time at your template, bashing things out, editing them meticulously for the entertainment and indifference of my readers. They're an ill defined shower on the whole(you don't want to know what comes up on my tracker....), but I'm happy to report that I have a couple of new correspondents. The nocturnal and ever wise Professor Smile and Croila, the bagpiping scourge of shit neighbours the world over. Thanks for popping in and do come again..... aloha.

Political Bloggers:Try A Splash Of Colour You Tedious Sods

I'm not going to link to the multitude of US political commentary blogs out there, but I suggest you take a wee trip on the Blogger hyperspace ride that is the "Next Blog" button. What you ought to find is that every one of them uses the same template(grey, sometimes parchment) and are only worth the most cursory of glances. No humour, no profanity, no sense in which you feel like you would ever want to share breathing space with the individual responsible. Theres no connection at all, unless you happen to wholeheartedly endorse the views of the particular blogger. Problem is, old lefty that I am, the Democrat blogs should appeal to me. Instead they bore me with their banal prose, parochialism and blindly partisan bullishness. Just like their Republican bretheren. Ok, can't blame them for being parochial, but how about the odd "Who's your ideal celebrity partner?" quiz, maybe a bit of banter about life in general, a few jokes, something to show theres a human being behind the spoonfed cynicism and news group links. Lifes too important to take seriously.

Autumn Breaks And Back To Winter

Theres something about this cold, dry weather that makes me cheerful. No pissing rain, no galeforce winds...........just a sharp chill that can be fended off with an extra layer under your jacket, a scarf and a hat to cover your ears. Purely from an aesthetic point of view, it's a fantastic time of year. Only a matter of time before the monsoon conditions return............

West Enders Are A Godless Bunch

Amen to that brother............ The 2001 Census turned up some interesting figures for the way in which Glasgow as whole worships. Todays Herald has the full story here. It would seem that the West End is a hotbed of non belief, with most of the city's 131,000 atheists living there. Lovely. Depends on what you regard as the West End. Different people see it in different ways. To some it's everything west of the M8, to others it's Byres Road, the Uni and the BBC. To sign off tonight I leave you this; Apparently Britains first Temperance Society found it's home in Maryhill according to Andy T of the ptfc.net forum. As he dryly notes "I would say as an organisation, they failed......." I feel another "Amen" coming on..................

Foucaults Pendulum

Foucaults Pendulum proves that the earth does indeed rotate on it's axis as opposed to the heavens revolving around us. An ingenious and rather beautiful device it is too. Here is a simple guide to the pendulum. From Umberto Eco's novel Foucaults Pendulum; "I knew the earth was rotating, and I with it, and Saint Martin-des-Champs and all Paris with me, and that together we were rotating beneath the pendulum, whose own plane never changed direction, because up there, along the infinite extrapolation of it's wire beyond the choir ceiling, up towards the most distant galaxies, lay the only fixed point in the universe, eternally unmoving. So it was not so much the earth to which I addressed my gaze but the heavens, where the mystery of absolute immobility was celebrated. The Pendulum told me that everything moved - earth, solar system, nebulae and black holes, all the children of the great cosmic expansion - one single point stood still: a pivot, bolt, or hook around which the universe could move" Thats it. No rants. No amusing tales of quixotic football teams or nocturnal encounters with local wildlife. Just the pendulum....................

No Title

The following is a reply I made to a post on A Mischief Of Magpies(linked below). It has been re-touched a bit, but the essence of the original rant remains. Ill Man. Something approaching the wave of gut wrenching emotion that overtook me a year ago in a small war cemetery on the outskirts of Ypres hit me when I read this post. Theres something about standing before the final resting place of someone who's remains could never be identified or standing in the room where deserters, some as young as fourteen, driven mad by the lunacy of the trenches were shot. It hits you for six and crashes through your emotional defences. It hit me a day later at the massive Tyne Cot cemetery, though not with quite the same intensity for some reason. Maybe once you've seen one unknown soldier you've seen 'em all eh?..... Gordon Gentle, through the actions of his mother will not be forgotten. Another name to add to the list of those who died defending our way of life. Thing is Gordon Gentle died for nothing, as did every other soldier and civillian trapped in this blood soaked folly. His mother would like the whole world to know this. He didn't die to make our lives better or safer. He did not die to defend all that we hold dear. The exact opposite. He died to sate the vulgar hunger of corporations and further the vainglorious posturings of ludicrous men, men who's ego's far outstrip their intellectual capacity. Rightly, she will not let this drop. I defy anyone to tell me exactly how many have died in Iraq. Nobody really wants to know, myself included. We all indulge in the western patented solipsism that keeps us all fat, sane and safe. As long as yer just a statistic pal......... Collective amnesia sets in, nobody cares............Numbers are so much more comforting than blood, guts and death, all of which is tastefully hidden from us by our media. Unless you have a link to Al Jazeera or something. So here's to Gordon Gentle. Here's to every lost life in Iraq. Here's to the lost souls of Flanders Field who's memories are mocked by Mr Blair and his apologistas with every ludicrous excuse and lie used to justify the invasion of Iraq.

Madness In Maryhill

Evening all. Received my first letter from my MP today. Ann McKechin, Labour MP sent me a delightful little note to explain her position on the recent terror legislation her party are in the process of introducing. In particular she was at pains to explain her position on the proposed 90 day detention proposals. She did not support the government, but considers the 28 days compromise to be too low. No, I don't know exactly what her preferred option was. 45 days? 60 days? Who knows.................The irony is that I did not send her an email. Is someone out there making complaints to my MP using my name? Or has there been a bit of a balls up at the constituency office? Failing that Ann McKechin reads Dirty Notes. Very clever but She's still not getting my vote...................... After that faintly surreal start to the day I made my way to the football at Firhill. Thistle were playing hosts to Gretna, runaway leaders of the Scottish Second Division. Gretna are owned by millionaire business man Brookes Mileson and are currently sweeping all before them. You would expect them to. They pay four figure weekly wages to their players, Thistle have to make do with rigid wage restrictions and a generous rolling win bonus system. Anyway, by half past four I was in something of a pickle. Thistle had gifted Gretna a slightly flattering 3-0 lead and looked like they couldnt tell up from down. By 4.35, I had decided to call it a day and headed home. I took a detour to Lidl, and on returning was informed by my father, who had stayed to the end(as he always does) that we had scored three times in the last ten minutes to take take a point. That is the last time I ever leave a Thistle match early. The likeliehood of such a return from the dead happening again any time soon is obviously slim, but I shall now sit and wait until the end, no matter what the defecit is. Lesson learned. God Is A Jags Fan!!!!! Well, he was yesterday...................

Anger And Frustration

Evening. An assortment of stuff tonight, so strap in. First a plea to fellow bloggers. A Mischief Of Magpies, the group blog I contribute to is in need of new blood. If you want a place to get things off your chest, indulge in intelligent debate and show everyone what a witty, well read and clever sod you are then you are most welcome. Just email me and i'll arrange to have an invitation sent to you. For those without a blog, i'm not 100% sure what the script is for getting you on board, but I can honestly say that you could do worse than get your own blog going. It's a piece of piss. Your prescence on A Mischief Of Magpies will also provide a link to your own site allowing an increase in traffic to the wonders(or horrors) of your personal blog. Ok, sales pitch over with, I shall move on to the cunt who invented that button on my keyboard that when pressed disconnects me, and shuts my PC down. I hate you with every fibre of my being, you perverse, twisted bastard. Twice last night my slightly erratic typing strokes landed on this little grey button whilst making blog entries. The best part of 500 words gone in an instant. I don't touch type and those who do should be burnt as witches. Ok, so the button is up next to the function keys and in theory should not be struck whilst typing, but all it takes is a misplaced bash at the delete button without looking and everything you wrote is gone forever. The only possible purpose for this button is to help middle aged men who skim porno sites while the wifes out shopping switch the pc off in a quick and easy manner when the other half unexpectedly comes in the door with her elderly mother in tow. I see Blair has decided it's 90 days or nowt. Obviously the man is desperate for some quick fixes, hoping that the fear people have of another suicide attack will let him get away with erroding civil rights in the name of some vague threat from international terrorism. These measures will NOT stop another act of terrorism by Muslim fundamentalists on these shores. I don't for a moment trust any country with such laws on detention to remain true to their original premise(locking up nasty men who they think want to kill you). Once the breach of a certain freedom or right has been made by a government, regardless of the caveats made to ensure that the powers will only be used in ceratin circumstances, the mutual trust between public and government that allowed such a liberty in the first place will have started to wither. If you're happy with that.............. well, please yourself. Like that other absurdity and weapon of control the ID card, this issue will inspire the immortal words from the mouths of morons "But if you've nothing to hide......" Ok, enough of the apocalyptic predictions. I'm off for me tea. bye.

Oh Sweet JESUS!!!!

What is wrong with people? Have you ever clicked that little button at the top right hand corner of the blog you happen to be reading? The one that takes you to the "Next Blog"? Of course you have, but you only made it as far as six or seven blogs along the line before you lost the will to live and went back to the online poker page or went looking for some porn. I've just spent about half an hour raking through peoples blogs. Why? Don't ask, you might just get an answer.................. It's not the multitude of Spanish and Scandinavian language blogs that annoyed me(just my inability to understand them), nor the tedious yank Republican/Democrat activist blogs that define new standards in black and white thinking. It's not the god fearers or the home bakery nuts or the people who detail every dull incident that ever happened to them every day............No, the blogs that had me cursing my very existance were the ones written by offensively dull thirty somethings with children, documenting................THEIR CHILDREN!!!!! Have these people any idea how eye wateringly tedious a blog about them, their lives and their children are to anyone other than the mentally enfeebled and their elderly relatives. They are the 21st century equivelent of that couple you or your parents met on holiday one year and who proceeded to send you an annual newsletter detailing whatever zany antics they had got up to in the six months since you had the misfortune to make their aquaintance. How we all wished they would just send an annonymous looking christmas card. It would have got wall space, unlike the newsletter which went straight in the fucking bin.............................. All of which makes my humble little blog look rather amusing and enjoyable. Maybe shite blogs have a purpose after all................

Marc Chagall

Hello Apologies for my abscence, but I refuse to post just for the sake of posting. Not that anyones noticed I suppose........... The mooted new blog will not materialise(sounds of cheering). I'm hard pressed to come up with enough nonsense to fill two blogs, never mind three. Tonights subject is Marc Chagall. A Russian born painter who's work could be as dark and brooding as it could be frivolous and surreal. Many of his paintings also expressed his bottomless love for his wife Bella, and documented their idyllic courtship. Expressions of complete love for ones significant other don't come much more explicit than the painting shown above, which is called 'The Birthday'. In it, the male figure seemingly contorts and defies the laws of physics to make physical contact with his lover. This is a common motif in Chagalls paintings, flying or floating figures used to convey the sheer joy of being in love. Anyway, have a look at his work and read about the man here and here. Other matters; For the record, Partick Thistle recorded another victory at the weekend and went into second place in SFL division 2. Not that some of the grumpy cunts surrounding me at Firhill seemed to notice. I suppose they pays their cash and are entitled to abuse particular players before they even touch a ball, but it all becomes a bit soul crushing. A bit of joy in victory chaps, otherwise we just end up turning into a lower division version of those mirthless old firm pricks. We play teams off the park every so often, but on the whole, the games are tight and competitive, so I generally don't expect much more than one goal victories. Anyway, how was your weekend.....................?

Fuck The Football, Check That View

Greetings Just a short post to keep things rolling. Considering the best thing i've posted anywhere recently was a reply to something on A Mischief Of Magpies, you can probably understand the fairly low ebb i'm at at the moment. I'm thinking of a new blog, along the lines of personal heroes, though clairwils excellent "This Tickled Me" blog covers this area adequately. So, I'm thinking in terms of that typically bloke-centric notion of the sporting hero. Though i'll be doing most of the posting, I'm opening it up to the odd contributer, so let me know if you are interested. I'll let you know when I get around to it of course......Next few days or so. The image above is the view towards Glasgow City Centre from the back of The Jackie Husband stand at Firhill, and a rather fine one it is too. Pity it was too dark tonight or i'd quite happily have spent most of tonights game against Peterhead staring out across this wonderful skyline. It was that bad. A 3-1 defeat after a run of four victories, and a performance befitting a group of disorganised schoolboys. It was so bad in fact, that i'm convinced we'll hound Ayr United on saturday. That seems to be how football works. Bye!

Like Putting Your Head In The Total Perspective Vortex

"There Is Something Hugely Comforting About Realising You Are Just A Tiny Dot In A Vast Universe" (Claire Gemson, from an article in The Herald Weekend Living supplement about Steve Owens astronomy lectures at The Glasgow Science Centre.) For a lot of people, such a thought is utterly terrifying. As an atheist i've always felt fairly happy with the utterly mind buggering vastness of the universe. It leaves me with much the same serene reverie as our stargazing chum quoted above. Now, the idea that there might be such a thing as "God" out there................ That really gives me the creeps. One more thing before I go. To passers by and regular readers alike, pay a visit to clairwil and lend some support to the campaign to return the Vucaj family to Glasgow. They were deported with unecessary force some month and a half ago to the remote Albanian highlands to live in a village to which the children have no attatchment or understanding and especially in the case of the daughter, is an extremely dangerous place to be. They simply do not belong there, have no future there and in terms of human potential are wasting away when they could be contributing to the society they lived in for five years and in the case of the three children, spent their formative years in. Anyway, clairwil articulates it better than I ever could, so please, use the link.

To Springburn And Beyond................

Looks like Petershill Juniors have a new ground in the pipeline. Their old ground, though large for a Junior side is more than a little run down. This on the other paw is superb. This is how the ground looks just now. I somehow don't think the chap who wrote the piece would approve of the new proposals.... I would provide a link to the official site, but it's under construction just now, and seems to have been since 2004. Hmm! Instead, I shall give you this. Far more interesting. Aloha!

The Wanderer Returns

Ok, i'm back. The Mischief has taken up a wee bit of my time, but ultimately i've just been a lazy old cunt. After a brilliant victory for Thistle yesterday and a , shall we say, "Interesting" ptfc.net forum night out in Munns Vaults, i've been a little distracted this weekend. Last I posted, I was regaling you all with tales of fox sightings. In hindsight, I feel it was a bad move to name the post Fuck Me! A Fox!!! Even with the exclamation marks its dangerously close to a rallying call to every bestiality fiend on the internet. Is anyone, like me, watching channel four's 100 sexiest moments bore show? Please, spare me all that "Isnt Last Tango In Paris sooo erotic?" crap. Buy fucking porn. Maybe i'm jaded but film and tv sex is just so dull, unerotic and twee I could fucking puke. Someone at the start of the show pompously opined that good cinema sex was erotic whilst porn was just gynaecological. Fuck you. Of course, Its all an excuse for the usual litany of mindless hacks, past it movie stars and nanocelebs like Tara Palmer Tompkinson to grab a hold of the passing porn bandwagon (Isnt Ron Jeremy brilliant!! I've seen Deep Throat you know....) and act all smug and knowing about the seedy world of sex on the screen. Or maybe i've no imagination and I should be locked up as the disgusting porn fiend I am.........................You decide, i'm too tired to care anymore. nightnight............

Fuck Me! A Fox!

Ambling home in the drizzle tonight from a night at the pub, I caught sight of something wonderful. It was on Woodlands Road, just at the Presbyterian church. Out of the corner of my eye I saw something much larger than just a scabby tomcat, and certainly more graceful than any stray mutt. At a distance and in the murky darkness I was about 98% sure it was a fox. It went up a cobbled alley, at which point I decided to follow at a respectful distance. It darted into the church grounds before I got near it, but I got an excellent, if fleeting view of this beast as it headed for a bit of privacy from half cut nosy bastards like me. We eyeballed at a distance of maybe 25-30 feet, through a fence before it made it's way into the foliage and out of sight. Needless to say I walked home with a big old grin and a feeling that the day had'nt been a total waste of time. In other news, I see Archies Bar on the corner of Wellington and Waterloo streets has burnt to a cinder. This was the venue for The Goat Club, who were kind eneough to allow me to perform every so often at their acoustic nights. No longer it would seem. I won't miss their rancid draft beer but I will miss the laid back atmosphere the place generated for customer and performer alike. Looks like I can't fall back on the benevolence of uncle Travis for my forays into live performance anymore........................Time to get out and do it properly.

Can You Have Too Many Blogs?

First of all, clairwils new All Star Tag Team Blog A Mischief Of Magpies is now well and truly up and running, featuring contributions from some of the sharpest and most articulate bloggers on the net..................and me. That's nothing. This months award for spreading yourself a little too thinly goes to Savanna whose slew of self prommotions on the comments section of this page should put us all to shame. She seems to have a blog for every occassion. Of course, I'm too scared to visit any of them. It's late now and I need to be turning in. Heres a prayer for NO FUCKING RAIN TOMORROW!!!!! You hear me up there? All this from an card carrying atheist. Pathetic!

I'm Falling Apart!!!!

A rare mid afternoon post today. Truth be told, it's best I do this, as I seem to be completely fucked by mid evening and lack the will to post even the most desultory thoughts, hence the lack of input in the last few days. I have discovered that there are not one but two people on the net posting under 'Notes Of A Dirty Young Man'. Draw Your Own Conclusions................ Other news is that my eyesight is perceptably getting worse. I now sit in the front rows at Firhill. Partly to get away from the mental cases at the back of the stand, but also because I can no longer identify players from such a distance. I had to leave a sandwich shop on friday simply because I couldnt read their menu board. I'm terrified at what my eye tests might reveal. My glasses can't get much thicker and still look good........ 'well sir, we feel you might be better served with our special range of white sticks.......................' Anyway, i'm off to try my new box of Twinnings 'Everyday' tea. Begone!!!

Bury My Heart At Taliesin West

Hey. Another night of tedium without a drink. I've stopped. It's just making me feel like shit. I've not been consuming vast amounts, but still far more than is healthy. I'm feeling pretty sluggish and depressed at the moment. It seems to descend on me when I get home from work. I've had worse. I wear the scars, physically and mentally of OTT drinking and i've decided to stop it before it escalates again. I'm ten years older and i'm not as able to handle it as I used to be. I've been trawling about for some Frank Lloyd Wright stuff on the net. I'm far from an expert on architecture, but FLW had something. Regarded as much as an artist as an architect by some, and I understand why. Aesthetic genius. His interiors are also something to behold. Here are his most recognisable designs. Just click right to go to the main page. Enjoy.

VOTE KEN CLARKE!!!!!!

There, that should get them rolling in........................... I see Jack Vettriano is getting a bit of a kicking just now. Sounds like a vendetta to me. Ok, so lacking imagination is an artistic crime in itself, and his paintings are naff but the actual compositions are his, even if the postures of the figures in his paintings came from a reference book. There are bigger and more critically lauded charlatans in the art world than Vettriano. Sad to mark the passing of Ronnie Barker. Fletcher and Arkwright will live on............ Finally, I found this. Hope you like it.

Too Tired To Type

This is what happens when you spend an evening drinking like a man with three heads. Anyway, like a child with a new toy, I shall link you to These Moments and Alans fine fishing trip report. Big Things be here Also, a link to Undiscovered Scotland. If you like mountains and stuff........... Anyway, off to bed and hopefully in better form tomorrow night

html: Fun For The Whole Family

Hi all Sunday came and went with barely a bye-your-leave and left me typing this nonsense. I did spend an infuriating hour wandering around the various Blogger sites in search of something remotely interesting. One site took my eye, but the rest of it was either in a foreign language or dull rubbish about basket ball or the banal lives of middle aged couples. I have also just spent an infuriating hour trying to work out how to put neat little one word links into the body of my blog with little or no success. I'll get it eventually, but intil I do......................... I've provided a link to Dan Allan's more often than not amusing site. Not that he needs the publicity, being a comedy writer and stand up of some repute. Also, a link to Lilly's site Supastar#1. Lilly seems to be having trouble getting her blog going, so a visit wouldnt go amiss, even if it's just to tell her to type in plain bleedin English so us old bastards can understand what she's saying. Besides, I found her lack of familiarity with ANYTHING in my profile quite charming. Anyway, go to clairwil to see the pictures of Giant Lobsters, Rams, Elephants, Beagles and Ned Kelly's. They're mighty fine. Go on then!!!!! The links are just over there you lazy sods>>> I've had eneough html bollocks for one night.

I remember when saturdays were really shite..........

Another slow weekend. Not complaining, just means i've less than usual to pass comment on. Just a couple of new links and a request for the human race in general to aquire some spatial awareness. In Sommerfield, Fopp and Peckhams today, I had to negotiate human roadblocks and mobile chicanes as the good citizens of the West End of Glasgow decided it was their duty to get in the way of your correspondent at every opportunity. I could and should have been in sunny Alloa today to watch Partick Thistle stick six past Alloa Athletic, but chose to sleep in to half one, float about the house then take a late afternoon promenade around the west end. Both would have been fine ways to spend my day, so i'm not too bothered.

Subbeuteo, Jock Stein and Broke Channel Islanders

I remember Subbeuteo. I got a set for christmas one year. Not from my parents either, a friend of the family got it for me. Whatever i'd asked for that year lay rusting in a corner i'm afraid. What has this got to do with anything I hear almost nobody ask...Well, taking a wander round Borders after work today, I stumbled upon the new Subbeuteo sets. They used to be works of art. Painted figurines on little lead ballasted bases. Now? A piece of laminated cardboard with the image of some overpaid hit and hope merchant from the Premiership. Imagination used to be a big part of the game, imagining that the scruffy Bradford City team you had was really Partick Thistle.....or somesuch. It's now just a cheap and tacky botch job aimed at a generation who could'nt give a fuck about such a concept as they all have video games that make Subbeuteo look utterly laughable. The moment I ditched Subbeuteo was the moment I discovered Sensible Soccer on the C64 back in 1989, so what chance has it got now with the latest generation of console footy games........................JUST LET IT DIE YOU BASTARDS!!!!!!! More footy related shenanigans...................Having watched the Ricky Tomlinson vehicle 'Mike Basset, Manager' last night and found the laughs to be few and far between, I have to hold my hand up and say that one of the few funny bits seems to have, according to the Daily Record, outraged a nation. The joke in question involved the elderly club chairman croaking after 'Wirral County' go a goal down after five seconds. As the old man slumps over in his seat, Tomlinson, as Basset exclaims "Bloody Hell, He's Done A Jock Stein On Me" I'm not going to justify the gag with some convoluted explanation, as i'd be the first to admit it was in bad taste. I did however laugh like a fool.... Look, if it annoys the overly precious and usually thick as shit average Scottish footy fan, then it's obviously done its job. Lastly, spare a thought for poor Steven who works alongside me. He's a decent chap, if rather prone to arcane speech ('Cool For Cats', 'Alright Dude') Anyway, he's broke as they come this weekend, and thats after being paid. At one point I was worried he'd jumped out of the rather large toilet window when he took an inordinately long comfort break. I'm not entirely sure he's joking when he says he's thinking of becoming a male escort. Ladies and Gents, I give you.................The Jersey Gigolo...... With that awful thought I shall leave you.

I'm Amazed!!!!

I see they seem to have made being an annoying prick a crime punishable by imprisonment. I refer to the young chap imprisoned for two months for the awful crime of downloading a beheading onto his mobile phone and showing it to a colleague at work. What a farce. It would appear the poor dear he showed the video to called the police. I would have imagined a wee word with the office manager would have done the trick............Out on his erse in an instant. Sadly, this is what happens when you allow halfwits access to technology that by rights ought not to be available to people with a mental age of 13. If, as I have a wee suspicion, the video was of the unfortunate Ken Bigley's execution, then I understand fully the womans distress and desire to call the police. I just feel that a prison sentence for acting like a retarded child is not an appropriate punishment. I could think of a few things you could do to make him realise his behaviour was not considered fitting for a grown adult. Also in trouble with the law is our dearly beloved PM, alledgedly for making derogatory comments about the Welsh. The rather insane Welsh Police have caught wind of these revelations and Maggies Lovechild is now under investigation. Funny that. You start a war that will claim the lives of thousands of people but theres no rozzers to be seen, except the one that stands like a twat outside yer gaff every day. Make a few jibes at the Welsh because they seem distinctly underwhelmed by your pathetic and tokenistic attempt to give their country some autonomy and suddenly the full force of the law will come down on you. Or, as is more likely, annoy you for a bit then get bored and go back to the real criminals like Anne Robinson.................... Lastly, I see Alex Kapranos of Les Ferdinand fame has been making himself useful selling The Big Issue. http://www.franzferdinand.co.uk/blog.php Good man. Not sure how long he can keep up the 'humble man of the people' act. A hell of a lot longer than I could probably. Bye

A Post Of No Importance

I feel like I have no business posting at the moment. I set this blog up purely to moan like an old man about things that annoyed me. The rather pleasant irony is that barring a few jibes at some easy targets, there is nothing in my life right now I hate eneough to live up to my banner. Maybe I should change it..... Onto the Bob Dylan documentary which continued tonight. Maybe it's the filmed footage.........I enjoyed it. Loved the press conference footage. Bob with his best 'getmeouttahere' face as some beatnick spod asks him the symbolic significance of the Triumph Motorcycle T-shirt he wore on the cover of the Highway 61 album..... It still goes on, the same old hackery and banality, but the artiste, with a few noteable exceptions, just goes along with the schtick. The result is a mutual masturbation session and a waste of paper and the reason I no longer buy music papers or magazines. You'd be as well buying the Mirror and reading their pop pages as buying the NME. In fact, take a jaunt into Virgin, pick up a bunch of new cd's you might like and use their bar code scanner/listening post. Suddenly you've put a hundred pointless rock bores out of a job. How can you not feel good about that? Thanks to Dr Feelgood for linking to my site and for confirming that yes, Alan Green is a flatulent, talentless waste of airspace. Also to Alan at 'This Moment' for the Chic Murray and Tommy Cooper gags. Much appreciated. That'll be all....................

Late Again

Hello Got caught up in the Bob Dylan documentary on BBC2. Not really a fan of Dylan, but I recognise and have some interest in his iconic status, his history. It's the history of many other things too, the Greenwich Village folk scene, their promotion of the Civil Rights movement, the burgeoning counter culture........usual shit that I watch with interest but a certain casual detatchedness that may betray my age. Good programme though. Loved the intercutting of scenes from Dylans tour of Britain in 1966(I think) Missed the "Judas!" moment. Or is that coming in the concluding part tomorrow? Plenty of puffed up, disgusted folkies being politely outraged at Dylans use of a "Pop Group" as a backing band. I have nothing against Luddites, but dogmatists are generally arseholes to a man and woman. Anyway, Apologies to Clairwil, who's brilliant blogs I failed to link to before tonight. A good friend who generously conferred guest blogger status upon me on her own site for a few months until I got off my arse and got my own place. To anyone stumbling through here, have a look in all my links, but especially clairwil and This Tickled Me. Funny, enlightening and more than just a little brutal at times. Lovely. It's late, and I have some porn to watch. bye!

Floating listlessly towards the coming week.

Good Evening Feeling chipper again tonite and I don't know why. Slightly disturbing, but I'll go with it....... It's been a bit of a hermetically sealed weekend. Out for the football yesterday and out for a curry tonite(thankyou Cafe India, a little too much chilli in the garlic chicken) That apart, it's been loafing about watching DVD's and eating chocolate biscuits. No papers, so I know nothing that went on in the past48 hours and nor do I have any desire to. A bit of solipsism never did any harm............. Anyway, maybe i'll go watch the programme about some goons who think the Da Vinci code is REAL!!!!! Oh the desire to believe in SOMETHING.......... Dan Brown is of course a very clever man, but nowhere near as clever as Umberto Eco who wrote Foucaults Pendulum, to which The Da Vinci code obviously owes much. On the other hand, an hour of four retards stumbling on circumstantial evidence and making various ad-hoc hypotheses to fit with their literal interpretation of a piece of historical fiction doesnt seem like the best way to waste wjhats left of my weekend. If this is how people react when they read some pulp thriller, is it any wonder people get all worked up over The Bible, the worlds greatest piece of historical fiction.................... Bye!

Late Call

It's been a good day. My team won and probably due mainly to an unusual chemical blance in my brain at this moment in time, i'm in a great mood. A few things regarding Kate Moss and her recent tribulations. Kate, yr alright. Yr a bit F**ked up, but i've seen worse....... The cant and hypocrisy of the tabloid vermin is vomit inducing. A great man once said "Before a metropolitan daily exposes an evil, it takes it's own pulse" Your average tabloid hack is either an alky or a cokehead. Usually both. The thing that had me laughing like a moron was the explanation for the benefit of Sun readers that cocaine use was rife in the fashion world. There it was, in language a 7yr old would regard as insulting, telling their readership something that Ab-Fab made jokes out of about eight years ago.......................something that has always been. By this reasoning, I had assumed Kate Moss was a regular consumer of the stuff anyway........................ Ok, maybe it's a ploy to justify the extra few chapters the publisher wants her to add to her biography. Even so, as an exercise in demonisation, it stands as something of a classic. Nice to see that Hurricane Rita(Can't wait for Mavis and Derek) didnt cause as much damage as Katrina, but then, New Orleans will be a bit of a mess again as it's just along the coast from the hurricane's landfall. Anyway, bye for now

Another Blog won't hurt, will it?

Evening all. First posts will always be problematic, so nothing more than a cursory greeting and the hope that I don't poison yr lives too much in the coming months and years. God that sounds horribly permanant. Bye for now................