Saturday, June 30, 2007

Dear God! Why Won't It Stop Fucking Raining?

First of all, this is last nights post today. I was round at Clairwil's necking the booze and as such, was unable to perform my duties as a blogger. Better late than never as one of my old teachers used to mutter. Like most of my posts, it has little or no cohesion and is naught but the random grizzlings of a 31 year old man-child.

Anyway, fucking rain!!!I realise that in Scotland we've not had it even a fraction as bad as some parts of England, but dammit!, I'm gonna have a whinge about it anyway. When I rant about this at work, I get nothing but blank stares, and quite rightly you might say. Complaining about the weather is probably the most futile waste of energy and breath known to man, with the possible exception of engaging in an arguement with Terry Kelly. Doesn't stop me raging silently at the skies and wishing a plague upon the sod who coined the phrase 'British Summertime'. The Fucker.

Welcome To The Job Gordon. Good to see he's handling it well............. Puff the chest out, throw out a few "We'll Fight Them On The Beaches" type lines, let everyone know they're in safe hands..................

Continue as normal................

I shouldn't mock, someone could have had their eye out you know............

On a more personal level, I seem to have got myself a house. Ten days ago, I got a letter from the local housing association, offering me a percentage in one of their 'Shared Ownership' properties. Seeing the size of the mortgage I'd be paying, I jumped at it, and now find myself almost in possession of the keys for a rather spacious one bedroom flat with it's own wee private bit of garden. It also has a great big kitchen, high ceilings, loads of cupboard space to stash the bodies of my vanquished foes.........Perfect. It'll be an utter cunt for the first few months while I come to terms with not being able to buy anything, but fuck it, I'm game........... I'd like to say thanks to Clairwil for the advice, suggestions and general helpfulness in what has been something of an unfamiliar territory for me. Also a big thankyou to Diane for offering me various bits and pieces of furniture and utensils, it's all very much appreciated. I should also mention my folks, without whom the whole deal would have been a non-starter.

Thankyou all................

Over to Sir Jimmy Saville for this weeks Youtube. Take it away Jim............

Ok boys-and-girls, nowthen, nowthen, as-it-'appens..........

Thursday, June 28, 2007

June in Photographs

West End Festival Samba Dancers
Great Western Road, 4.30AM
Heron in Kelvingrove Park
Mountaineering Squirrel
Waiting for the tapes to go up, Ashfield Stadium.

Monday, June 25, 2007

Stalked By Seagulls

I kid you not........

It started (or so I thought) tonight on my way back from the shop. As I entered my street I noticed a couple of noisy gulls above me, but thought nothing of it until I noticed one of them hovering, then swooping down towards me. At first I thought it was after something on the ground, but it soon became apparent that I was the target and it only got worse when I stopped moving. By this time I had the camera out (fearlessly putting myself in the firing line for your entertainment!!) and the gull now seemed to have a static target to divebomb. Anyway, I got the above shot before deciding discretion was the better part of valour and made for the entry door before the fucker could start his next swoop.........To be honest, I was more frightened the bastard would shit on me than anything else...............

It was only later on I started to put things together. Staggering home at 4am on Sunday morning, I took this shot of a seagull sitting on a street light. Yes, I know there are thousands of the buggers scavenging the streets of the city, but I wouldn't put it past the fiends to be watching my every move.........

I'll soon know if I get chased again on the way to work..............

Sunset over Great Western Road

All I can say is..............Watch The Skies!!

Saturday, June 23, 2007

Guided By Voices

Probably the greatest band of the 90's......Anyone who disagrees is a tone deaf philistine!!

They did way more tuneful stuff than this, but you can find all that on Youtube anyway. This is them in their true essence............Live, pissed up and wondering where the next beers coming from. Genius.


Friday, June 22, 2007

Keeping Burt Bacharach In A Job

Normally rain is an utter bastard. A case in point being the other morning there when it chucked it down all the way to work. Add to this the ridiculous situation I found myself in whereby I'd had to return home to get my entry card for the office and you have a recipe for misery . Power walking to work through the pissing rain, on the muggiest day ever with an umbrella that keeps yr head dry, but ensures the rest of you gets drenched is something that would make even the most staunch welly boot fanatic re-assess their attitude towards inclement weather.
Today I got caught in what I would describe as 'good rain'. You know those symbols on weather forecasts with the sun/white cloud/rain all in one? Well, that's what it was like. It was pretty fair as I wandered through the park, pausing only to say hello to the coots and ducks as I headed home. I'd just passed some guy in a vest and comedy trousers, who'd got off his bike and started juggling on the pathway when it started to spit with rain. The spit soon turned into a full blown shower and the juggler (he was crap, kept dropping them) headed back past me again. No pleasing some folk.
Anyhow, it was that sort of shower where you have to make a quick search of the heavens to find out where the rain is coming from, as your senses are busy telling you "It's bright and warm with puffy white clouds in the sky, why are we getting wet?". A dirty great grey slab had started to move over the park unbeknownst to me (and many others) and was in the process of dumping it's load on various joggers (Yay!), cyclists (Double Yay!) and of course, the cycling juggler (Triple Yay!...... with bells on). For some it was a cue to scarper under some trees. for me it was a cue to get my trusty wee X-710 out and take some snaps. The things I do in the name of art........................
I was quite happy to get slightly wet, I knew it would pass in the space of a few minutes. Theres also nothing quite like a wee bit of rain on a bright sunny day. The strange metallic smell as the previously dry atmosphere suddenly turns moist, the way the world around you shifts up a gear as you change down and come to a halt. Yr gonna get wet anyway, might as well enjoy it...............

Monday, June 18, 2007

The Wonderful World Of Chic Murray

It's always vexed me that the peerless Chick Murray's few existing tv appearances haven't been uploaded by some clever sod to YouTube. So, that being the case, I present you with a wee selection of his finest lines.

If you find none of these funny, I suggest you check your pulse.........

What use is happiness? It can't buy you money.

I met this cowboy with a brown paper hat, paper waistcoat and paper trousers. He was wanted for rustling.

I had a tragic childhood. My parents never understood me. They were Japanese.

I won't say I was slow developer, but our teacher was quite pleased to have someone her own age in the class to talk to.

If it weren't for marriage, husbands and wives would have to fight with strangers.

After I told my wife that black underwear turned me on, she didn't wash my Y-fronts for a month.

I felt as out of place as a left-handed violinist in a crowded string section.

Get into yourself to get yourself out of yourself. Then try to lose yourself.

I drew a gun. He drew a gun. I drew another gun. Soon we were surrounded by lovely drawings of guns.

The police stopped me when I was out in my car. They told me it was a spot check. I admitted to two pimples and a boil.

I first met my wife in the tunnel of love. She was digging it at the time.

My girlfriends a redhead, no hair, just a red head.

I admit to spending a fortune on women, booze and gambling. The rest I spend foolishly.

My parents were wonderful, always there with a ready compromise. My sister wanted a cat for a pet I wanted a dog, so they bought a cat and taught it to bark.

I got up this morning. I like to get up in the morning; it gives me the rest of the day to myself. I crossed the landing and went down stairs. Mind you, if there had been no stairs, I wouldn't even have attempted it.

She had been married so often she bought a drip-dry wedding dress.

My mother was so house proud that when my father got up to sleepwalk she had the bed made by the time he got back.

I went to the butchers to buy a leg of lamb. "Is it Scotch?", I asked. "Why?" the butcher said in reply. Are you going to talk to it or eat it?". "In that case, have you got any wild duck?". "No", he responded, "but I've got one I could aggravate for you".

I rang the bell of this small bed-and breakfast place, whereupon a lady appeared at an outside window. "What do you want?", she asked. "I want to stay here", I replied. "Well, stay there then", she said and closed the window.

A Scot is a man who keeps the Sabbath, and everything else he can lay his hands on.

I was in London the other day and this man came up to me and asked me if I knew the Battersea dog's home. I said that I didn't know it had been away.

There are two rules for drinking whisky. First, never take whisky without water, and second, never take water without whisky.

My wife went to a beauty parlour and got a mudpack. For two days she looked nice, then the mud fell off.

I don't swim. I can swim. I just don't have much cause to do so in the normal run of things.

So there I was lying in the gutter. A man stopped and asked '"What's the matter? Did you fall over?" So I said "No. I've a bar of toffee in my back pocket and I was just trying to break it."

This chap started talking to me about this and that - about which I know very little.

My father was from Aberdeen, and a more generous man you couldn't wish to meet. I have a gold watch that belonged to him. He sold it to me on his deathbed. I wrote him a cheque for it, post dated of course.

I was out walking the other evening. This fellow accosted me, and asked if that was the moon up there in the sky. I replied that I had no idea as I was a stranger there myself.

I was taking my dog out the other day and I met this chap who asked me where I was going. The dog is foaming at the mouth, so I explained that I was on my way to the vet to have it put down. He asked if it was mad, to which I replied that it wasn't exactly pleased about it.

This chap said to me, "If you look over there, you'll see Dumbarton Rock". Well, I looked for 20 minutes and the thing never moved an inch.

I met this chap at the Olympics. I said to him, "Excuse me but are you a pole vaulter?", he replied,"No, I'm German, but how did you know my name was Walter."

I went to the doctor and he told me I only had three minutes to live. I immediately asked if there was anything he could do for me, to which he replied, that he could boil me an egg.

I knocked and the woman opened the door in her night dress. I thought to myself at the time what a strange place to have a door.

If you have yr own favourite, please feel free to suggest it in the comments, theres tonnes of them........
Ok, so no Chic Murray clip, but I did find my favourite Monty Python sketch.


Saturday, June 16, 2007

Defolosing It

................And so the Mothership brought me back to Earth and I was able to resume my duties as Scotlands premier comedy sex god/housewives choice and blogger of little note...........

I've now promised myself that I shall only blog when drunk, this is about entertainment folks. Just ask The Hoff.............

Anyway, on the subject of getting ripped to the fucking tits, getting absolutely mortal, finding ones self 'Too Drunk to Fuck'.................I love the Russians!! A more shamelessly pissed up nation you couldn't imagine. Oh, I'm sure many's the Scotsman that could keep up with them in a Vodka marathon, but who would be feeling guilt ridden and peely wally in the morning?


I don't mean to glamourise the excessive consumption of the booze, but................Actually, fuck that, I do. Old Bozzer Yeltsin spannered on hisprivate jet? The single greatest image of the nineties. Fuck off with yr Madonna videyos and L7 on The Word. One man NOT appearing from a stationary airliner cos he was three sheets to the wind, now that's classy. That's the thing, Bush had to get sober to become US prez. Yeltsin got the top job and continued to neck the Smirnoff like a man with two heads. Guess what situation I'm most comfortable with...........?

Sober people lack perspective and take things far too seriously. I'm more comfortable with a drunk in charge of a nuclear arsenal than some ex pisshead who found God and who would have no second thoughts about launching something naughty into the night sky if he thought his particular brand of deity might approve of it. After all, why would a partying prez possibly want to endanger the known Universe? Where would he get more distilled potato juice from if he did that?

This of course is why I'm scared of Putin. Looks like he hasn't had a days fun in about twenty years. He could almost pass for a Firhill season ticket holder.
Anyway, it would seem that along with the Irish, the English, the Norwegians, Swedes, Danes, Finns and Russians, not to mention the Germans, The Scots are still defying the notion of 'cafe culture' and deciding to die young and leave a rather unpleasant corpses. It's the least we can do.

That said, and all racial/cultural stereotypes aside, it would seem that the current mania amongst poverty stricken Russians is for a good old whack of turps/aftershave/windo-lene....Pretty harrowing stuff really. There has to be something wrong when seemingly normal people have to buy instantly lethal moonshine because a bottle of Vodka is outwith their price range.


Hanni's Barber - 180 Woodlands Road - Usual prices for usual haircuts...........

Special Offer - Hot Towel Shave, Haircut and blow dry and head massage.....

£14? Not bad. Booking myself in for the head massage bit every day for the foreseeable future.........

Lastly, has anyone ever seen someone 'cross' themselves when an amulance passes by? I like to think it helped whatever poor bastard was in the back but I get the feeling it's a gesture made to make the living feel a little better. 'Thank fuck it's not me' is all I hear when I see people do that.

Saturday, June 09, 2007

4.25AM Blues

These are getting later and later.............and less frequent too. I remember a time I posted almost every day with the greatest of ease, I also remember a time when Mars bars cost 20p, cans of Coke 25p and and you could leave your front door slightly ajar of an evening............

Or something...........

Bring back ritual sacrifice, that's what I say. The world hasn't been right since they stopped serving up virgins to the Gods..........

...........sorry, where was I?

Here maybe?

I like Canadians, they're fun! Don't believe me? Try this one

A man who wants you to kick him in the nuts!!!
How's this one.....It's not me, it's my dog!!!

Of course, theres the disabled guy who got stuck to the front of a MAC Truck? Fucking thrill rider if you ask me. Don't tell me he didn't have the time of his fuckin life...............I would have.

You want more crazy shit? Try here..........

Saw a fox tonight. I swear, it walked past me in much the same way as a stray dog would. It had something in it's gob, a piece of meat I think, which it then proceeded to bury it in a plant pot for (not so) safe keeping. I think I spooked it a bit, and maybe some of the well heeled residents of the area too. I can just see my e-fit image staring out at me from a copy of the local free sheet in a weeks time.

Have You Seen This Man?
Last seen prowling around the front gardens of some posh houses with a camera. Do not approach as he may ask you to pose for photos.........

Maybe I got a bit carried away. Thing is, what would you do if you had a camera on you and a fox crossed yr path?

The results weren't too good, but I've lobbed one of them up anyway........

Just had a weird thought. Smallish debate over at Clairwil about the armed forces recruiting in schools and whether they should be allowed to or not. I've just realised that Glasgow Tigers Speedway Club have been getting their dirty kevlar mits into local school kids by getting them along to meetings, introducing them to the sport, giving them cameras to take photos and making it an educational tool and focal point for various exercises and presentations. Keep it under yr hats, but that's one rider paralysed and one dead in the space of a month. How long until this barbaric activity is hoofed into touch by the EIS?

Tonights YouTube provided by Stereolab. We live in a world in which absolute cretins reign supreme on Youtube comments threads. Hateful, ignorant, creepy little scrotums the lot of them. Except for people who comment on Stereolab clips. They all seem, well, normal......... Pretentious maybe, but normal. Cheered me up no end...........

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

I Was Going To Make A Proper Blog Post Tonight...........

.....................But I couldn't be arsed.

You'll just have to look at these instead. The month of May in photographs

Third Lanark Amateur XI take on Queens Park U19 team at Cathkin Park. Thirds win 4-3
Snails on a walldown the street. Much nicer and more colourful than the ones that populate out front wall. Or did until my old man put pellets down, the bastard!!!
Glasgow Tigers Captain Shane Parker heading for another heat win.......
Squirrel Crossing.
Airborne at Kelvingrove Skatepark.

You could also check out this new blog. It's the work of an old aquaintance and it's already looking a bit good.

Go on then!!!!!

Saturday, June 02, 2007

The End Of The World

Don't you just hate it when people start talking to you when you've got earphones in? What other indication that I do not wish to converse with you (or anyone for that matter) do you need? How fucking rude! Of course, plain old curiosity gets the better of me and I unplug for the slightly scruffy gent beside me. I'm resigned to the fact that he wants either loose change or directions, but no, he's got something rather more pressing in mind.

"What are we gonnae dae? The worlds gonnae end!!"

"Curl up in a ball and pray to Jesus?"

Ok, so I didn't say that. I shrugged and said "Cool!", put Iggy back on and wandered off............Bloody urban attention seekers.

There are a multitude of smart arse answers to the above question.

"Good, about fucking time!"

"Can it wait until I've had my tea?, I'm starvin"

"You can do what you want my good man, but I intend to spend what little time I have left masturbating. Now, if you'll excuse me......."

"We? Who's 'We'? You got a mouse in yer pocket?

"Could you not have told me that a week ago....?"

"I suggest we all get naked, gather in George Square and fuck like rabbits"

"No, they said sunny with light showers"

"You're a week late pal"

"Are you from the Digger?"

My favourite................

"Voluntad usted me dirige por favor terminal del tothe de los autobúses?"

You could always tell him to fuck off, but that would be rude............