LEAVE ME ALONE!!!

Fuck Me!! What does it take to get through to some people? About a week ago, I cancelled my very brief tenure with Virgin Media as providers of my Broadband and cable TV. I finally thought I'd managed to get the message through to them. Alas................

I hadn't even got as far as installation to be honest. I saw the shambles that passes for one of Britains biggest companies at close quarters and didn't like what I saw. Three times I've cancelled it now. Three Fucking Times! Yet, they still send me packages detailing new installation dates, dates I simply shall not be in the house to keep. Do they fucking think when I call them up to cancel my account, I'm somehow playing a wee game with them? Do they think I'm calling up to cancel the installation date? Are the people who work for Virgin mental retards? I feel we ought to be told. Dickie Branson can go and fellate himself quite frankly. Maybe he could do his shit-witted, feeble minded call centre staff while he's at it, the grimacing minge faced prick.

You'll be glad to know that I tried to set something up with the Post Office, but they seem to have proved themselves to be nearly as incompetent. At this rate I shall have Internet access when Hell freezes over, or when Partick Thistle win the Champions League, whichever comes first...................

Talking of arseholes, it was only a matter of time before this bunch of walking abortions took to the streets. You know what? You could do quite good business if you were to set up an Islamic Fundamentalist Rent-A-Mob Agency. In fact, pick any group of people who think the world revolves around their chosen ideology and you could be onto a winner..................

News Just In

I won something!

Cheers Szelsofa!

It's Stoneybridge!!

Hola!

What's in a name? Rather a lot if you live in Clackmannanshire or Fife. Seems that while the new bridge under construction across the Forth near Kincardine links the Falkirk and Fife regions, it's the neighbouring Clackmannanshire council who want to claim the name of the bridge(check out the clip in the link, it's a hoot!). All very petty of course, it should just be called the 'Upper Forth Crossing' to annoy them both and make it hard to remember. The best bit was the item on last nights Scottish News involving what can only be described as Maigret and Boaby from Stoneybridge Council stating in their own inimitably couthy way, why the bridge should be named after their respective (Fife & Clackmannan) counties. And you thought your local councillors were an embarrassment............

In other news...........Morrissey outrages the nation once more. Andrew Collins takes a sane and rational view of it all. May his soul be damned!! ;D

English school teacher gets off lightly. Or something................

Deeply depressing really, mainly because it gives utterly loathsome 'Culture War' cunts ample ammo to continue boring us all fucking rigid. I'm caught on two minds. On one hand, surely it ought to have struck her that naming an inanimate object 'Muhammed' wasn't going to go down well. On the other, I think it's shown up just how absurd rigid application of religious law is and the deranged, paranoid mind-set of the clerics in these countries. Of course, our Sudanese chums aren't the only ones who like to get 'a tad medieval'. I'm just an old softy though. Human rights abuses don't suddenly disappear because the person in question happens to be a citizen of the country they're detained in. Anyway, hope Miss Gibbons is home soon and able to get over what must rank as a deeply confusing, distressing and ultimately futile ordeal. Maybe it pays for visitors to tread very carefully and learn the 'ins and outs' of local custom when going to such far flung places.

Facebook?

Folks, It's Lowest Common Denominator Night! - Bikes..........

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So, what is it?

What does it do?

I'm led to believe I have a Facebook account but I've never used it in anger. It always seemed to me to be a bit on the prissy side, you know, all that '...and where do I know You from?' rubbish. Bebo is the same, very up itself and cliquey. I do have a few Myspace pages and frankly, I've encountered some genuinely interesting people on it and it seems fairly open. I think the music element helps, many people want you to come to their pages, rather than closing them to outsiders and only responding to their own circle of friends. This is what I don't get though, why not just email yr mates? Want to send them photos? Again, email does that............Ok, a social networking site allows people to communicate with each other on each others sites, but it's not long until the novelty wears off. How many holiday snaps can you bear to look at in one sitting? Social Networking? I thought that was things like Meet-Up and Gumtree, you know, where people actually socialise.................

Of course, there can be problems with being too open. I've been 'Phished' at least once on Myspace and you get plenty spammers. Ah well, no change there, eh? YouTube is also hellish for that sort of thing. I do believe there is a sub species of humanity who spend their days commenting on Youtube clips. Arty clips are usually fine, but anything involving popular sports, music, movies, tv etc..............Well, it all seems to degenerate into the most ridiculous playground cat-calling. It can be captivating stuff to read, purely from an anthropological standpoint, but it's depressing to know that so many people cannot spell or punctuate.

I'm afraid I agree with Cocktails and Records, nothing beats a blog. It's your own space, you can say what you want, never having to worry about offending people or saying the wrong thing in front of the wrong person. Then again, self expression isn't for everyone, so I suppose leaving impenetrable comments on a friends Bebo and posting blurry pictures of their latest night out is probably the pinnacle of Internet usage for many people.

Ok, so I'm an incurable fucking snob. Can you blame me?

Facebook indeed...........

I hear it's a bit passé now anyway. Bring back Bravenet message boards, that's what I say..............

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...................'Burds' and Beer.

An Announcement

Some of you may be aware that I have a handful of other blogs. Some of them are a little on the neglected side. Derelict for instance is merely waiting for me to get my arse in gear and add photos to it. Fiction Depot is where Clairwil and I attempt to make sense of the Universe through the medium of fiction. Tigerblog is all about speedway, and as such is of limited interest.

One blog however that has consumed a fairly large portion of my time over the past year and is resolutely un-neglected is Seven Days. Except it's now at an end. 365 days ago, I started it as a photo diary and now it's come full circle. To add any more photos to it would be to dilute what effect it may have. Theres only so many locations you can get to going to and from work every day A few heroic types have been following it from the start, and for that I thank them. They know who they are. For the rest of you, please pop over and have a shufty, it's not all pictures of my ugly hairy mush you know................

Finally, visit this blog/website, it's damn fine..........

Cheers!

Ever Had The Feeling You've Been Cheated.............?

No matter how much irony you watch X Factor with, it's still telling you how to think, still making people believe some bint rocketing from one end of the octave range to the other like a Happy Shopper opera singer has 'real talent'. No she fucking hasn't! In terms of pop music, her 'TALENT' is redundant, anodyne, pointless...................

Here is a man who understands. Here is a man who realises the truth of pop music. Here is a man who knows that no matter what you can do with your larynx, if you haven't got a personality or tune or something to make the nations collective arse wiggle on the dance floor, well, you might as well fuck off and leave us all in peace. Here is a man who makes most of what I'm writing here fairly redundant........................

He's also a man who understands that Simon Cowell is a cowardly, tedious, tasteless 'past his sell by' little pederast impersonator, whose 'trick' is wearing decidedly thin. Sadly, there are enough people out there who seem to have bought the X-Factor/PopIdol schtick and have solemnly conceded that pop music needs to 'grow up' and 'real talent' needs to be recognised, ever willing to believe that some egregious talent show can combine the best elements of Eastenders and Top of The Pops AND ensure that the music they will listen to in the future is made by people who can REALLY SING.

My advice? Go listen to the new PJ Harvey album, then buy a ticket to see Take That.

Dichotomy resolved.

As if to prove my point............If Blondie came from Glasgow

Checking On My Flock

Just a quick post tonight. My life looks like it might just be settling down into something approaching a routine and the last step is to get hooked up to broadband after the 'Virgin Saga'. Then you'll be seeing a lot more of my ugly mush.

Condolences to the Scottish National Team who fell heroically at the final hurdle. A couple of defensive lapses, a few missed opportunities and a linesman with a lovely new Ferrari in his garage this morning......... I missed the game due to the fact that the world and it's fucking wife wanted to see it and just about every pub in the city centre was rammed. If I'd gone into town early on I'd have found a pub, but somehow the idea didn't appeal to me. I went to Lochburn Park and took some photos of the Clydebank v Maryhill game instead. After that, I hung about at the folks place, then went home, made my tea and washed the dishes. Ach well, if it worked for Denis Law..................

Looks like we will be playing England next year after all. 2-0 down to Croatia at half time. Wonder who they've got lined up to replace McLaren? Mike Bassett?

Best Of Luck Lads!

We'll fucking need it.................

Haw Pal! I Hope Yer Next Shite's A Hedgehog

On the whole I don't have a huge problem with the human race. A frustrating bunch, yes, but in the words of Douglas Adams, 'Mostly Harmless'. Of course, there are exceptions and I bumped into one today.

It happened on the way back from the football. I crossed a road and as I reached the other side, some old lad and his dogs were walking down to the same bit of pavement as me. I stepped onto the pavement and he halted just to my left. I murmured an apology, as you do when you think you've got in someones way slightly. As I walked off, he called out at me.

"Is it raining?"

It was raining, but I thought nothing of it. Again he called out.

"Aye,it's hard tae see in the rain wi glasses on, i'nt it?"

I looked round at him in askance then continued walking. He was an old jake in a cap and wearing tinted glasses. The irony of his words weren't lost on me. Just before he turned up another street he called out something crude about the umbrella I was carrying, something about a 'Dolly Brolly'. Maybe he was jealous of it, I don't know...........

What got me was that there was absolutely no call for the outburst. I had done nothing more than walk past the stupid old cunt, but there he is, haranguing me in the street. See, that's when I find the human race intolerable. I can't stand bad manners, intentional rudeness. Sure, people can do things that annoy you, but most of the time it's unintentional, most of us understand this issue and simply mutter a few oaths under our breaths and get on with it. Rest assured though, there are always pricks like the 'gent' I encountered today who act like aggressive little fuckers at the slightest provocation, regardless of what age they are.

Round 'em up and send 'em off for 're-programming'...............

Spatchcock!

I've just realised it's been a week since I last posted. Things have been a bit hectic and to be honest and I haven't had the energy to post anything of any substance.

Over at Seven Days, things are winding down to an end on the 27th of November. A full year of photographs, mainly taken in and around Glasgow, interspersed with odd trips to strange new worlds, have been posted on a daily basis. I'm in the process of making the tags clearer to allow navigation of the blog. I'm also adding little bits of annotation to the site to augment the visuals.

Next, as most of you will be aware, I like to swear my little fucking head off on this here blog. Most therapeutic it is too. Clairwil brings to our attention the absurd notion of being taken to task for uttering the odd profanity. On one's own blog!

Apologies to Clairwil if I'm covering the same ground as she did, but I just found the whole thing so deeply amusing. I'll admit that the Devils Kitchen, like Pickled Politics, is one of those places I don't lurk about in, mainly because I'd end up saying something I'd regret or making a total tit of myself. I'm fine if I'm sober, but a few drinks and a shit day behind me and I come perilously close to the sort of belligerence that would make Terry Kelly blush. I find it best if I stick to subjects that no-one really gives a fuck about.

Anyway, it just amuses me the way political bloggers, a generally confrontational and forthright bunch of fellows, can get so touchy when it comes to 'unparliamentary language'. Some of the naughty words on DK seem to be swearing for the sake of it (What better reason can there be?) , though often there seems to be a genuine rage behind it. Been there and done it. Sometimes calling someone the most appalling thing you can imagine is all that stands between you and eating the nearest piece of furniture. If DK is reading this, he's free to come over and use whatever language he wants here. ;D

In all honesty, I could do with a mother hen type to disapprove of my reckless language. Sometimes when I go to my tracker, I see the things people have been entering on Google and they make my hair stand on end, simply because of a preponderance of four letter words on my blog.

Lastly, three cheers for Glasgow and it's successful bid to host the 2014 Shit Olympics.

Sorry, that's the Commonwealth Games................

I shouldn't be so snide. The total cost of hosting the games in Glasgow looks to be less than what London are spending on their main Olympic arena. The infrastructure is all there and it looks like Glasgow's East End is going to get a much needed boost out of it. Hopefully.

Of course, a few of our southern chums are smugly reminding us that we're a bunch of 'Scrounging Jocks' and that they, personally, will be paying for this folly via their tax money. Sadly, this isn't entirely true, as most of the funds will come from money raised by the Scottish Government*. I can't help feeling deprived of the chance to watch the Kelvin McKenzies of this world turn purple as we spend their pennies on Velodromes and Swimming Pools and other such frivolities.

I really do feel a sense of loss in that regard................

Ok, I should be back on Friday, God willing...................

*Yes Yes, I do realise Westminster subsidised our parliament and our little dry run at self government. It's very nice, cheers!

Reading through the BBC 'Have Your Say' link, it's plain that there are as many, if not more English people who are happy enough about the Commonwealth Games coming to Scotland than those who want to use it as an excuse for a bit of Jock Bashing.

Remember, Remember.............To Sellotape Your Letterbox Shut

Let's face it, when it comes to lobbing exploding things about, the human race really doesn't need much in the way of an excuse. Why the fuck do you think we like going to war? Why the fuck did they invent the nuclear bomb?

We like things that go BANG!! It's that simple

Guy Fawkes is just such an excuse, and along with New Year (ask a Dutch friend...) it's the pinnacle of our race's achievements with regard to making a fucking racket and scaring pensioners and household pets. I must say, I do like fireworks, but I have to confess that I find the idea of them being so easy to buy slightly disturbing. The average back yard fireworks show is a rather dreary affair all told. Dad buys about thirty quids worth of cheapo fireworks, sets them off and then everyone wanders back inside out of the cold. Pure anti-climax. Take it from one who, as a kid, saw one too many rockets tip over and fly into the neighbours pot plants or had to yawn through yet another malfunctioning Catherine Wheel as my Dad tried set off a Roman Candle without giving himself third degree burns. (I think I covered all this last year now I think of it..........)

Of course, the feral kids and wee hardnuts get to run riot in the backstreets with them. Bangers seem to be the weapon of choice. Easy to throw and loud as fuck. If acting like an obnoxious prick for most of the year doesn't quite do it for you, Guy Fawkes is a rare treat, as you can then upgrade yourself briefly to 'Evil Little Cunt' status.

Anyway, have a nice night and hope you enjoyed the whizzbangs. Me, I'm off to see if my flat is still there.............

Heroes Of Indy Rock: No1 - Brian Molko/Placebo

Brian Molko, yesterday

Top Single Chart Position - No2
Number of Albums - Four. Maybe five, can't remember.
Signature Songs - 'Nancy Boy', 'Pure Morning', 'Anyone Can Fall In Love', 'Wig Wam Bam'
Weeks In Charts - Too many
No. of Band Members - 3+
No. of Tedious Pseudo-Sexual Deviant Dwarves With High Pitched Voices in Band - 1
No. of Dull Looking Potato Men in Band - 2+
Tales of Hedonism - The night Brian did Crystal Meth & Lemsip in an old folks home in Doncaster.
Last Seen - Leaving a trail of blood & spunk around the country, to general public indifference.

Current Prospects - meh!

Placebo arrive for the 2nd leg of their US tour at the Caerphilly Masons Arms.

Further reading here

and here