Friday, February 29, 2008
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
I've entered a short story competition. It's No.42 on the list.
Basically one has to write no more than 250 words using a picture of a bare tree on a hillside as a form of 'inspiration'. I'm not at my best in those situations, but it's a good exercise. With some punctuation corrections, it'll pass muster though. I think I'll need to do better next time, there are some pretty good writers in there.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Anyway, it came to my notice recently that the Inland Revenue have no idea that I'm working.
Spinny wind vane thingy at North Berwick.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Just trying out the Blogger Video option. Not bad, as long as the file isn't too big. This was taken coming back from a football game at Livingston on the Partick Thistle Supporters Bus. It's not meant to be anything, just me farting about with my camera to relieve the boredom, pointing it out the window at the street lights. It was the shortest thing I could find. It has a sort of hypnotic feel to it I suppose..........
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Did they jump or did they just leave a banner asking a question none of us can answer?
Boy does it hurt.........
I became embroiled in something about ten months ago and, well, I'm still none the wiser to be honest. Maybe that's why it ended. I have a vague feeling I was meant to do certain things and act in certain ways, but it just never occurred to me. No surer way to destroy the illusion of love than acting all absent and detached. Funny old world. A prior relationship to this one ended because I lapsed into the 'desperate puppy dog' act. I got it the wrong fucking way around, didn't I? It seems that whatever the situation, I'll mis-read it and apply the wrong behaviour mode.
Of course, you might argue that acting like a lovesick goon just to keep an affair rolling is no way to be. Sure, but if I'd held myself together in the prior relationship, well, things might have been a bit different. Look, these things don't come along very often for me. I need to get them right first time..............
I don't mind admitting that I get pangs of regret now. Is it love when you feel regret? Is it love when you pine like the proverbial Norwegian Blue? Or is it just missing the tactile, the touch, the sheer contact? The lost boy looking eternally for assurance and validity?
Does anyone care?
Nah! and nor should you..........
So, to all who feed the machine with bunches of flowers that will be dead by Tuesday and cards that can never adequately express the things you feel and boxes of cheap chocolate to be half eaten and surreptitiously stuck in the bin, I say this..................
Take two days off work. If it helps to be around the 14th of February, fine! If not, then also fine. Fuck each other senseless, go to the pub, or the park, or whatever it is you both like doing (Bungee Scuba Diving, Naked Potholing, Transcribing Das Kapital into Swahili), come home, eat like gluttons, drink like fools.................etc
For the rest of you? It's not your day, sorry..........
The day they find and recognise the Patron Saint of Jilted Lovers, or the Patron Saint of Misanthropic Singletons, then sure, fill yr boots................
Until then, chin up, chest out and thank yr lucky stars you don't have some fucker stealing the sheets off you tonight.*
* Shit! Sorry, some people like that sort of stuff.........
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Sad but true. An unfashionable provincial club from a footballing backwater like Scotland, beating what was even then, the most expensive team in Europe. I'm a Partick Thistle fan and as such I have little time for Dundee Utd, but as an eleven year old kid in 1987, I was extremely fond of them. It was my form of glory hunting I suppose. Everyone else I knew was a Liverpool or Rangers or Celtic fan, I went for The Arabs. United Manager, Jim McLean, was a madman who knew talent when he saw it and ensured it was tied down with a five year contract at all times. This was how he built his side without losing players to bigger clubs all the time.
I still get goosebumps watching this clip.
I have known the inexorable sadness of pencils,
Neat in their boxes, dolor of pad and paper weight,
All the misery of manilla folders and mucilage,
Desolation in immaculate public places,
Lonely reception room, lavatory, switchboard,
The unalterable pathos of basin and pitcher,
Ritual of multigraph, paper-clip, comma,
Endless duplicaton of lives and objects.
And I have seen dust from the walls of institutions,
Finer than flour, alive, more dangerous than silica,
Sift, almost invisible, through long afternoons of tedium,
Dropping a fine film on nails and delicate eyebrows,
Glazing the pale hair, the duplicate grey standard faces.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
I'll still be about, just not here.
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Friday, February 08, 2008
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Most people are hateful
Spiteful and ungrateful
Most people are a pain in the arse
Most people wouldn't care
But they will stop and stare
When your life becomes a sad and tragic farce
Life Mrs Jones
It's one long kick in the stones
And if you happen to passing and look this way
Please don't be alarmed
Affronted or dis-armed
If I completely fail in my attempt to say 'Good Day!'
So Fuck Off!, Yes Please, Fuck Off!
Yes, You Heard It Right The First Time
Fuck Off!, Oh Do Please Fuck Off!
Otherwise I'm Feeling Rather Fine
A rough transaltion of the legend inscribed above in felt tip pen would possibly be 'Dear Sir/Madam, We would be most grateful if you could refrain from allowing your walking piss machine to micturate at will all over our little sign. We suggest you take Fido to the nearest lamp-post to perform his territorial duties, or better still, take him to the vet and have the fucker neutered. Thankyou.
Friday, February 01, 2008
Ok, I had a big list of stuff I was gonna blog about, but frankly, a lot of it has lost it's appeal since I jotted it down. Blogging topics have to be fresh, though theres no reason why some of them shouldn't crop up again.
We're all familiar with the term 'Jump The Shark', right? That defining moment in a tv show where the scripts take a terminal turn for the worse, the watershed moment after which the whole point and credibility of the programme is lost. Like Arthur Fonzerelli in 'Happy Days' strapping on water-ski's and jumping over a shark. Whilst wearing his leather jacket.
Ok, fine. Except it seems that actual the use of the term goes a long way beyond that. Check the Wikipedia definition of the term, or the jumptheshark.com site. It seems to me that just about any situation regarding a tv show can be categorised as some form of 'Shark Jumping'. Problems arise of course when the very premise of the show in question is a 'Shark Jump' and in some ways, to not jump the shark would indeed be an act of 'Shark Jumping'. Are you with me? No?
I say we do away with these phony categories and get back to the original point of the phrase. It was originated as an easy, catchy, shorthand way of denoting the exact point at which the network bosses got their talons into the script-writing team, or the precise point at which the premise of a particular show had outlived it's purpose, leading the script writers to go to ever more ludicrous lengths to avoid repeating themselves. Shit TV shows DO NOT COUNT!!! Diff'rnt Strokes jumped several super-sized Great Whites the very moment it aired. Accusing it of 'Jumping The Shark' is like accusing Britney Spears of being a Pop Star. On the other hand, Happy Days, whilst being nothing more than a cheap, fairly well written nostalgia vehicle, managed to retain a thread of continuity, enough to traumatise a nation with this image.
My personal nominations are.........
Monty Python - Most of series 4
Still Game - Series whatever - When pensioners give birth
My Family - Die! Die! Die Now!