One Last Scream In The Dark

Sunrise on New Year's Eve

The year is done and so am I. I feel a bit lethargic to be honest and won't be going full tilt at the finishing line like many of my fellow countrymen. It's been a strange 12 months and I'm not sure if I'm sad to see it go or glad to see the back of it. A bit of both. As usual.

This year I discovered the joys of Speedway, bought a house (or part of a house), finished my year long photo blog Seven Days, started a fiction blog, became an 'Idler', briefly 'fell in lurve' and became unofficial match photographer of Maryhill FC. I may have done other more exciting or interesting things somewhere along the way, but I can't for the life ofme remember what they were, so you'll have to use your imaginations.

As for tonight, I'll have my slippers on and my feet up after a nice wee curry from Adeel on Maryhill Road. Maybe a bit of 'First Footing' after the bells. As for you lot........have a happy and safe evening, whatever you're up to.

See you all on the other side..................

A misty haze floats just above the river Kelvin.

Every Ruddy Year...............

...........at around this time, I get the same shit-miserable cold. Last year it was New Year in Amsterdam, this year it was Christmas at home...........Without fail it comes round and belts me one just when I want to be eating, drinking and being merry. Bugger!

It's also why I haven't been blogging. Every cloud has a silver lining I suppose.................

I'll be back to rage at cyclists soon. The fuckers!

Christmas Elsewhere

I'm always fascinated as to how they do things in other countries. Christmas is no exception. I suppose it's that 'same but different' thing that I like. This is Christmas in Hungary

Cheers to Szelsofa for a wonderful post.

Thanks!

Christmas Means..................

.....................Four ageing Teddy Boy brickies in sequins, doing an Elvis pastiche. Still the only Christmas song I can listen towithout puking through my eyelids.

Cheers! Mines a glass of sherry and a mince pie mother!

Happy Christmas to all of you!

Welcome To My Grotto

In a moment of delusional madness, I have dubbed myself the Santa Claus of Blogland, dispensing joy and happiness to all.

Leave your requests below please.

Requests for Hard-Core Porn will be considered.

Requests for World Peace will be passed on to someone who deals with that sort of thing................

I must go now, I'm off to beat up some fucking elves.

Fog On The Clyde

Hello, Good Evening & Fuck You!

Is it just me, or are bus drivers some the least pleasant members of the human race? I hate to tar a whole group of people with the same shitty brush, but I'm not in the mood to be conciliatory right now, having just had a brush with one of 'Glasgows Finest'............

So, there I am, making my way through town to get some Christmas shopping done. I stop at a pedestrian crossing and wait for the green man. In this instance, I forego the traditional Glasgow pastime of ignoring the lights and bolting across in front of approaching traffic, in favour of, well, staying alive..... Anyway, as I wait for the lights to change, a bus driver proceeds to commit what would, in any sane world, be a capital offence. He moves his bus into a space on the road and in the process straddles the crossing. I roll my eyes and think 'If that light changes, I'm going to have to walk round this fucker. If I can see the light through the bloody bus..............'

This thought takes about two seconds to cross my mind, but the fat bald cunt behind the wheel of the bus has seen me pulling a face and he's virtually chewing the dashboard with rage. Helpfully, he's pointing upwards at something, his cheeky wee face twisted with hate.........I look up and see a traffic light. Oh, I see............! He's pointing out to me that the pedestrian crossing signal is still red, and indeed he has the right of way. Not content that he's fully conveyed the gravity of the situation to me he rolls down the window and continues to verbally abuse me, for which I'm eternally indebted to him. How else would I have known just what a shit-witted and vile little gonad he really was............

I didn't get the licence plate, but with a little luck one of his passengers will report him for acting like an irate baboon whilst in charge of a motor vehicle. Failing that, I hope some wee shite on a scheme somewhere lobs a half brick through the cab window and gives him the lobotomy he so desperately needs.

Mentalist of the Year Awards

Nominee No1 - This guy. In fact, anyone who does this for fun...............

I've seen wider (and better surfaced) garden paths.

Behold! The Boosh!

Just for starters, it's the only one you seem to be able to embed............

Am I alone in feeling like the only person in the world that watches this show? Being stuck out in the limbo of BBC 3 doesn't help I suppose. To think the truly fetid 'My Family' gets continuous prime time, year in, year out..............and quite what the BBC were thinking of when they decided that John Sullivans 'Boycie' spin off was worth another series I'll never know..........

Anyway, Thursdays, BBC 3, 10.30pm.................

The Camden Leisure Pirate

All I Want For Christmas............pt1

Actually, all I want is peace and quiet.

Ok, maybe one of those joystick thingies with old video games on that you plug into the telly. Lovelyjubbly!

You can fuck off with yer 'Nintendo Wee's' as well, ludicrous shiteboxes that they are. You can tell that every wanker in the universe will be getting one and then boring you tearless about it in the New Year, to the extent that you'll be forced to cram sharpened pencils into your ears and staple your eyelids shut, just to escape from the horror.

I know people who think video games are real. People who would marry their X-Boxes if they could.

It's got me thinking though. I've been trying to remember all the Christmas presents I got when I was a kid. Some were life altering, like my first bike or first computer. Some simply provided hours of fun like the Subbeuteo set, the Scalextric and the train set. A few were utterly ridiculous though, like the BMX add-ons I got one year to make my poxy single gear mountain bike look good. This would have been about 1984 or so and my father, for reasons best known to himself, managed to source a bike with a gear so low, that it was only any fucking use for climbing near vertical gradients. All very well if you're into that sort of thing, but I was eight years old and just wanted to race my mates along the pavement and knock little old ladies over as they came out their front door. This became impossible, mainly because my legs couldn't pedal fast enough to go at even half the speed of some guy riding a Raleigh Bloody Grifter. My pensioner skittling days were at an end, mainly because I wasn't going fast enough to be a danger to anyone (I think I'm beginning to understand.......). I also looked ridiculous, my legs flailing impotently in thin air, which meant most people got a good laugh at me to boot.................

Somehow or other, I must have thought a number plate and foam pads for the crossbar and handlebars would make things better. They didn't.

From one deluded Santa request to another. As a nipper, I had a bit of a thing for Astronomy. I'd read books, memorise the planets and pester my dad to go up the hill at the back of the house with some binoculars to look at the moon. It stood to reason that I'd want a telescope eventually. Thing is, instead of getting it out at every opportunity (Easy!), it lay virtually dis-used on top of a cupboard for years until it finally made it's way to the charity shop. Quite sad really, wonder who's got it now..................

Strange things Christmas presents. Massively over-priced gifts given to undeserving brats on one special day every year, sure, but they also sort of demarcate the process of growing up. They give annual insights into the strange thought processes and odd whims that kids harbour, just before the world turns ugly and Christmas becomes a tedious and empty ritual involving banal rubbish like money, gift vouchers, cheap perfume, Hai Karate toiletry packs and disappointing packages containing socks and comedy ties.

Still, at least theres the food......................

Turning Tricks In Chad

Boo!

Bet that scared ya! In accordance with my readers wishes (or those who chose to vote) I have lost the beard. For the time being at least. Larry's suggestion that I grow a Hitler tash was considered for a nano-second, but ultimately bowed to the practicalities of the job. As I needed a machete to get through it, I decided against any type of styling. I'm not ready to get fanmail from budding Unity Mitfords just yet............

Anyway, as I said, it was quite a job and it wasn't helped by the fact that the beard trimmer I had borrowed from my father was, unbeknownst to me, very low on battery power. It ground to a halt midway through one of the thicker parts of my beard, resulting in more than a little pain. I had visions of walking back up to the folks house with a half shaved face, looking like an escapee from a mental home to put the thing on charge. Or even worse, having to walk into a shop and shell out about seven quid for a new hand-held razor to finish the job.

I was rescued by an old and well used Gillette Mach III razor I had kicking about in the bathroom cabinet. After much face soaking and with a heavy heart, I set about hacking the rest of the beard off. I had expected the razor to be as effective as a rusty single blade Bic in the face of such a mountain of hair, but it stood up to the task valiantly, and now has pride of place in the cabinet for a few shaves yet.

You'll have noticed that I did 'the double' and got my head razored. Don't be alarmed by this, it's an annual occurance and you'll get used to it.

Finally, a warning to be heeded by all cabbies..............

So, a taxi driver bangs on about 'Paki's', 'darkies' and 'Chinks' . While I've never personally experienced it in Glasgow, the dribblings of middle aged or elderly men who drive cabs is the stuff of legend. I suppose if it stops them holding forth at will on any topic they've half understood to a captive audience, then I'd say 'fine and dandy!'

On the other hand, being arrested for having an opinion about something, no matter how ignorant and ridiculous is something that doesn't sit well with me. Why in the name of God could the occupants of the cab not have asked that he concentrate on the road and cease interrupting what was, after all, a private conversation? If they had actually bothered to challenge him on the subject(he claimed that all the school places were being 'taken by Paki's') ,instead of getting all pissy at his use of certain words (a semantic dead end which was exposed in court), they could probably have had him contradicting himself in about two minutes flat. I find it to be the way with most numpties.

What a waste of fucking time and money!

Wireless Headphones...........Brilliant!!!!

I cannot over-emphasise just how much a pair of wireless headphones have revolutionised my life. Honestly, I have no idea how I made it through 31 years of my life without them. Music at full blast as I cook the dinner or wash the dishes gets the serratonin levels up a treat and after a while you forget you have them on. Bathing, with the correct choice of music, has become an altogether otherworldly experience and is a fine way to block out the dirigable like hum of the extractor fan that kicks in when I turn the bathroom light on. It also means I can conveniently blank out the infernal racket made by the other residents in my block as they enter and exit the close. I had no idea you got a herd of fucking Rhino to yourself when you moved in. Do you think it's something they give you after six months tennancy, or have I just not been looking in the right cupboards?

I'll be updating Tigerblog later on with a few bits and bobs regarding the new season and some sad news regardingone of the Tigers riders.

Cheers!

Consenting Otters

It's never been my desire to pry beyond the banal day-to-day existances of people who work in the law racket. Lawyers, solicitors, para-legals, their lives have never exited or interested me in the slightest. Until now.............

On Thursday, I witnessed someone wandering obliviously around the office with a large, white streak of 'something' on his shirt, just at the shoulder. It looked like it had encrusted somewhat................. Far be it for me to suggest a possible explanation, but peurile, pornographic imaginations were exercised without mercy.

All very unfair it has to be said. Maybe he spilt cappucino on it (How do you spill cappucino on your shoulder? I believe an experiment would need to be done) Maybe it was just one of many house-hold spillages that go undetected...................

Neither of which provides an answer to the question "How did it get up there?"

I'll leave you with an idea that I believe could revolutionise the lives of every office worker in the land.

Do you like crisps?

Do you hate it when your fingers get all greasy from eating them and cover your mouse and keyboard in a shiny film of saturated fat and artificial flavourings?

Your woes could be at an end, for 'iLL Man Enterprises' is proud to bring you................

'Crisp Tongs'

Ok, so you'll look a bit of a tit using them, but I see a bright future for such a simple product.

Bye!

One From My Gramaphone Collection

A long, long time ago, I bought this single and fell in love with Therapy? One perfect album and a shitload of great songs hasn't saved them from relative obscurity though. In fact, I was asked who they were and what kind of music they made by an urchin serving behind the counter in HMV last week. I couldn't come up with an adequate comparison at the time, though I told him their early stuff was 'Industrial'. He looked at me like a teenager might look at an uncle trying to tell him about the good old days when Mud and Showaddywaddy walked the earth. It occurred to me later that what they sound like is a cross between Metallica and The Buzzcocks, though the clip above demonstrates more than just a passing fancy for Nine Inch Nails and Front 242. It should be noted that it seems fair to say that Liam Howlett of The Prodigy probably cocked an ear to this one on hisway to making stuff like Firestarter and Breathe.

Also, just tolet youknow, I'm back to using Fotothing to upload photos online. Theres a slideshow somewhere at the bottom of this very blog which I shall try to update every day.

Cheers!

The Answer To A Maidens Prayer.............?

'The Beard' is at critical mass. Either it goes now or it stays in the family until after Christmas. I'm throwing this one open to the floor and I promise to abide by your decision..........

The poll in the sidebar awaits you..............

Further to that, can anyone tell me which member of mid seventies period Beach Boys I most resemble.

Sunday Silence 1