Saturday, September 29, 2007

"Haw! This Yin's Takin A Photie Of His Pie!!"

Apparently that's what the old lad in the cap and dirty raincoat standing by the red railing in the photo above thought I was doing. Alas, it wasn't the case. It's a tempting notion, but somehow I don't think theres much call for photographs of meat savoury products, no matter how good they are. I think the confusion came about because he saw me holding the camera downwards to look at the back-screen. The pie was in the other hand and it must have looked like I was going for a close-up on my lunch. Silly old buffer!

Still, it's not his fault, they just got colour tv in Kirkintilloch a month ago, digital cameras are bound to be a bit confusing...................*

The iLL Man is available to be lynched by people from small towns on most weekday nights, except Fridays. Thankyou.

*Just kidding. It was the internet they got last month. They've had colour tv since March.....

Friday, September 28, 2007

No!! Not Me House!!!

Not the most pleasing sight to meet my eyes as I walked back from the shops the other day. Fire engines. A ruddy squad of them, and more concerning to this new home-owner, a dirty big plume of smoke rising into the air. My first thought was "Fuck! What have I left on?".

Nothing as it turns out. There's a row of old council flats behind the house which have been boarded up for quite some time, waiting on the last tenant to move out (obviously hanging on for something a bit more salubrious) They're empty now, but it seems to have been a green light for some local cheeky chappies to find a way in and torch the place. Ah yes, the local wildlife........

Had no problems as such yet, though someone did decide to give the piece of board covering the broken pane on the entry door a good booting last night. Obviously took offence to someone covering up their previous handiwork.

Here I am making out I live in Beirut or something.....

I've got one of these things up now. Cheers to Clairwil for bringing it to my attention. Not quite sure what it's for (I'm not the only one), but I'm sure it'll come in handy.

The Sensational Alex Harvey Band had many mad moods. Too many actually. I think in the world of seventies rock they were seen as a great live band, but ultimately, neither fish nor fowl in a musical sense. Which is a shame, because they made some jaw dropping recordings, if maybe not all on the same album...........Anyway, these clips should give you an idea of how they could go from deranged prog rock to Vaudville to cheesy pop to grinding blues rock and back again. They also had a theatricality that maybe only Marilyn Manson has topped and the rabid looking Harvey whose style was a definite influence on a young John Lydon. Harvey died in 1982 and the remnants of the band were sent to serve their time in 80's stadium rock supergroups before returning to reform the band. I've not bothered to bend an ear. I hear they're not bad at all, but without Alex, it's just another band.

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

I've Got God In My Earpiece And He Sounds Like Private Fraser

via Seven Days

Just back from the football and I've suddenly remembered one of the reasons I'd stopped going. It was like having Statler and Waldorf from the Muppets behind me. Grizzling, moany faced old cunts.............
They were actually correct in a few of their observations, but their unrelenting dourness had me wishing I'd brought a gun with me.
I shouldn't moan, it only cost me a fiver......

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

The Horror! The Horror!

Here are a selection of things that made me want to pull my brain out through my nose with a fishhook.

Get Gwen Stefani's Stunning Celebrity Look - "So Much More Than A Popstar" (gag!)

Watch a brilliant performance from James Blunt in concert. - Dinner loss guaranteed

Wendy reports to the headmaster - The art of grovelling taken to new heights.

Dutch Moped Fetishist - I actually quite like this guy. The bit where Anarchy In The UK comes on is priceless........

Whingeing Cyclists - Don't get me started!!! Try obeying the laws of the road before you get all uppity and superior about yr carbon arse print and how hard done by you are by evil motorists.

I shall be back on Thursday with something proper to read.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

I May Be Some Time...........

Well, that seems to be the final upheaval over with. The house is a mess of Lidl bags and dismantled furniture, but it should scrub up nicely in the end. My blogging activities will be regulated by how often I can be bothered to make the ten minute journey back to the old gaff to use the PC. Until I get connected and the PC makes it way down to Hopehill Road, I think I'll be a little infrequent with the posting. Seven Days will be updated every three or four days.

Ok, that's me. See y'all on the other side............

Oh, one more thing.............

Go see these guys: The brilliantly named Curlews In The Goyt and Derfen

Ah Fuck!

........It's far too late and I'm a bit drunk, so I can't really think of anything witty or interesting to say...

{Greek Chorus} Why Break The Habits Of A Lifetime?

Anyway, I move into the flat tomorrow. It's felt like a fucking eternity right enough, but the transition from not having a clue what's going on, to 'Ok, you can move in' has taken me by surprise and I spent most of the early evening packing the crap in my room into bags and boxes for removal. Then there's a couch to be uplifted from a top floor flat. Busy old day ahead....

I'm also off work for the next week or so, which prevents me from throttling the life out of one of my colleagues. Is this a good or bad thing? Apart from being an unctious, nasal, supercillious wee prick, this guy is also the sort of arsehole who thinks nobody can see him when he's ramming filing back in at random. The job is indeed shit, but for fucks sake, do it properly, even if it's just to make everyone elses life that little bit easier. Yeah, I know, get the fuck out..............

Soon my dears, soon...........


Thursday, September 20, 2007

Raiding The Cereal Beds

Botanic Gardens, Glasgow.


When I were a lad, a 'Roadshow' was a live broadcast on Radio 1, usually from some scrutty seaside town in the pissing rain, hosted by the likes of Bruno Brookes and Liz Kershaw, featuring top tunes from the Hit Parade and Dave Lee Travis scaring children with his facial hair. Or something. To top it all off, you'd have an array of the days biggest pop stars (and Pete Burns) lip synching along to their latest hits. Peerlessly naff, and as popular as a public hanging. The product of a more innocent age.

Now it would seem that the term 'Roadshow' has been appropriated for altogether darker purposes. Basically a 'Roadshow' in business terms is a couple of middle management types with a big screen, a laptop, a microphone and a Powerpoint Presentation, trying gamely to generate some excitement amongst their employees about the company's new 'three year plan' and their projected profits. The half hearted gags, the the half arsed 'Pre-Roadshow' music, the utterly meaningless glossy pamphlets, the hour of my life I'd have sooner spent drilling holes in my head.................

Anyway, some suggestions for improving the 'Roadshow' product;

Dry ice.

Strippers (male & female if you want)

Free bar

Babyshambles live performance

I think it's a winner.

That wasn't the best of it. Apparently the company have a commitment to the environment. I was instructed to go to and from the venue for the 'Roadshow' via a specially chartered bus, even though said venue is actually only five minutes walk from my office. I was quite happy to oblige as it meant I returned to the office a good half hour later than I would have if I'd just walked.

Nice to see my Carbon Footprint is as big as ever

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Here Is The News

I see someone is Suing God. One for the small claims courts, surely................

Of course, further reading tells us that it's just some Senator in Nebraska being a smart arse.

Now this guy, he's really got a case. Free will doesn't exist you see. I can see how he feels cheated...............

I love Hugo Chavez. Not for his Socialist beliefs, I can take or leave those. Not for his hilarious 'book of the month' recommendations, Chomsky gives me indigestion. No, I love him cos he's just decided to turn the clocks back in Venezuela by half an hour.

Ace! It would seem that the reasoning behind the move is to allow children to wake up for school in daylight. A fine notion, except I'm sure the practicalities of the situation are far less important to old Shug than the kudos gained from Venezuela having it's very own timezone.

Reports that Cuba is looking at the possibility of re-locating to the 5th Dimension are as yet unconfirmed.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

One Mustn't Mock The Afflicted.......

Danny Dyer is a twat and this is a genius piss take. All hail!!

'Avin It!!

Saturday, September 15, 2007

Look Into My Eyes

............No, better not come to think of it. Anyway, it's my new invention (Patent Pending.......) Ideal for those hideous conferences and 'roadshows' one is periodically asked to attend by the arseholes in charge of the company one works for.

Hello! It has come to my notice that there is a Paddington Bear movie in the pipeline. Hurrah! On the downside, it turns out it's live action. How the flying fuck will that work? A man in a bear suit? Tame bear cub on a leash? (No you twat! They'll use CGI!)
C'mon, it's either the Ivor Wood style 'stop motion' or nothing at all. Sacreligious cunts! Adding insult to injury, they've got everyones favourite Kodiak Peruvian eating Marmite sandwiches in a new advert. What the fuck is that about? Can I please have the waste of sperm and eggs that came up with that wheeze delivered to my door at some point this weekend so I can hoof him/her in the arse with my steel toe-capped winkle pickers. Paddington Fucking Bear does not eat vegetable extract butties! The bear I grew up with has impeccable tastes and eats marmalade sarnies and I'm sure would rather starve than sponsor what has to be the the most repulsive foodstuff in existance. You're fooling nobody you cunts! Fuck off and take your grot with you. You never know, it might come in handy if someone runs out of Polyfilla.

I hear the human mind is a wondrous thing, though I'm given to wonder otherwise at times. Apparently a good old fashioned smack upside the head is all you need to become something of a polyglot. It happened to Matej Kus, a Czech speedway rider. I was at the match and was witness to his accident. He lost control on the first bend and the guy behind him had no time to take avoiding action, so ended up running over the top of him. the resultant concussion saw Matej out for a fair while, and when he came round it was discovered that he was speaking perfect Queens English, as opposed to the few broken phrases he had demonstrated to the Berwick Bandits team manager beforehand. Now, one could argue that whatever English he had learned was locked away in his subconscious and the concussion 'un-locked it', allowing him to communicate in a language hitherto completely alien to him.

Failing that, he has pretty good English and he's decided not to let on for whatever reason, only to forget his deception when he came round from his knock. I think I'll be credulous in this one, if only because it's such a strange and wonderful story. Apparently he's forgotten his new language already and now needs an interpreter to communicate once more.

It seems the condition is known as 'Xenoglossy' and is extraordinarily rare. I'll let you make your own mind up.

The funniest thing is that my blog publishing page seems to be in German now. Needless to say, I'm a bit worried..........

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Hooray For Auntie

'The Berries' @ Seven Days

It's only in the past few months, as my job becomes ever more tedious and worthless that I have come to truly appreciate the BBC website for the goldmine of info it truly is. At my place of employment, it's the only thing we're allowed to look at on the net during working hours. I have to say, I understand their rationale. I mean, it's 'just the BBC!', who would give that any more than five minutes..........?

Yeah, more than half the department it seems.............Maybe it says more about the lack of intellectual stimulus provided by the job, but I'm not so sure. For instance, without the BBC Online, I'd know nothing about a certain region of Russia promoting a 'Sex Day' in an attempt to boost the falling population. Nor would I know that female joggers risk 'boob sag' if they don't use a decent sports bra. Oh, and it seems that the skins of tangerines contain a compound that kills cancer cells. It seems you should be eating the stuff, not throwing it away.............

Not the most important or eye opening tidings one will ever read, but obscure nonsense will always be welcome in my world.

Recently it was discovered that someone in IT had forgotten to put the work-time restrictions back after lunch and while it did allow me time to fanny about on Wikipedia for a while, I just ended up back at 'Auntie Beeb' devouring their science section and checking out the previous nights speedway results amongst other things. Theres a strange allure to it. The feeling that theres still something of deep interest to be read somewhere. Anything to kill the time I suppose. They also store archive stuff going back to the dawn of time (1998)

I'm sure there are more than enough out there who believe I'm just poisoning my mind with the brain raping evil that is BBC mis-information, foolishly believing it to be educational or useful. As opposed to the eternal spring of truth Murdoch churns out of course............

Yeah, well, long may their apoplexy continue. I rather like the BBC and I love that they're loathed by people whose sensibilities are so obviously fragile that they interpret every action of the company as being hostile/Socialist/Stalinist/whatever..........

I'm never happier than when I lose myself in something, and frankly, BBC online allows me to do just that....................

Oedipous Is Alive And Well And Living In A Loft Conversion In Manhattan

Crimson Statue

A big thankyou to Observer Woman Makes Me Spit for providing this very amusing article in The Guardian. Frankly, I'm not that surprised such wretched entities exist. Nor am I surprised that women sent to interview them don't understand the underlying reason for their general cuntishness. I shall return to that one.

Basically what we're talking about here is the minor phenomenon of educated, middle class and very high profile male bloggers whose attitude towards women is a weird combination of loathing, contempt and insecurity(please, read the article, it's worth it). They're looking for love basically, but every woman that crosses their path fails utterly to be anything other than another troublesome chore, a target for their brooding, internal rage, or at best a mild distraction to be discarded when they get bored. So far, so predictable. The biggest problem is that they then go and write candid online memoirs about their disappointments and bizarre behaviour disorders. Un-burdened by a need to self censor, they bask in their own their own alpha male smugness, yet wonder why they aren't hitched to the only woman who can satisfy them. I don't doubt they love women, but they hate that the 'perfect woman' doesn't exist and probably never did. The resulting disgust and self loathing is manifested in their relationships and then set out for a small but influencial audience to chatter over it, giving it a kind of soap opera status.

I've always wondered if I should go 'confessional'. It might not be a great idea though. Can you imagine a blog in which I let you know my deepest, darkest secrets? Told you things you didn't really need to know? Ok, so I might get a few more hits (Ha!), but quite frankly, I'd get about three blog posts out of it before I ran out of material. Also, I don't get much 'action', so it would be a toss up between talking about self abuse or my porn collection. Neither are subjects I feel able to write entertainingly about. Athletes foot on the other hand.............

Anyway. In answer to my original point. Why do these 'neo-mysoginists' seemingly have such loathing for most women, yet cling like desperate puppies to the notion of love and marriage?

Simple really. They all want to marry their mother.

This sample of bullshit pop psychology was brought to you by the letters A R S & E and the No 5. The iLL Man is a product of the Mentally Subnormal Bloggers Workshop............

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Thieving Fuckers!

Bjork at Connect festival, Sunday Night

Well, it had to happen sometime............

I've had my wallet nicked. I was in Lidl, I'd just payed for my messages and was transfering a few things to my satchel at the counter behind the checkout. Rather than putting my wallet back in my jacket pocket, I've foolishly and left it out on the counter and gone without it. An uncharacteristic mistake, I have to state. I made the forlorn journey back after getting about five minutes up the road and realising I was a bit light in the pocket department. As I had surmised, nobody had handed it in, but someone had almost certainly nicked it. All that was in it was a few quid in loose change, a national insurance card, a bank card that the thief will never be able to use (especially now that it's been cancelled) and various other bits of useless shite.

Cheers mate. I know who you are. You were the trackie wearing dick who made me wait in the queue while you went for something you'd forgotten, you were the wee dobber who was transferring messages to your rucksack as I walked out of the shop and couldn't have helped but notice that fat looking brown leather pouch laying there unattended. You were the cagey looking fucker who suddenly started fumbling for gears on your bike as you came past me as I returned to the shop between five and ten minutes later in the mistaken belief that someone would have had the decency to hand it to one of the staff.

If it was indeed Shellsuit Bob who had away with my wallet, I truly hope he gets raped by his bird with a 12 inch steel dong, or maybe his pet doberman bites his balls off in the night. There are other possibilities, but the circumstantial evidence points one way, and at this moment in time, that's good enough for me...............Guilty!

Apart from that I'm fine. How's everyone else?

For Lism. The Hold Steady say Howdy!