Iz It Coz I Is Michael Fish?

"32 degrees, 31, We're Talking Numbers Right Now!" Indeed Mr Westwood, Indeed........... Everybody's favourite jiving grandad tells it like it is. Oh dear!

Rick Rolling Rights And Wrongs

Just how much mileage can you get out of a video of an adenoidal, badly dressed man with a mountainous quiff?


If you've never had the pleasure of being 'Rick Rolled', it's a recent internet phenomenon whereby you click on a link to something you want to see, but instead you're rewarded with something you resolutely didn't want to see, i.e, the worst pop song of 1987.

It has to be said, the link that Blogger stuck in their updates page promising a rundown of a new feature, was, if anything, even more horrific. If you've never experienced the baritone bullshit of Tay Zonday, then count yourselves lucky.
For those with strong stomachs, check out his 'internet hit' Chocolate Rain. The guy's like a Sesame Street Jas Mann

I suppose 'Rick Rolling' it's one of those things that can be done when posting any link, it needn't be Rick Astley, but it seems nobody has gotten round to more extreme takes on the theme. I await the day someone links to a live trepanning video in lieu of some celebrity porn. The Rick Astley gag probably wore thin worldwide after about a month, but somehow or other people always seem to take time to have a good old chortle over it. It's a bit like humouring the office wanker I suppose...........

My theory is that someone put in the wrong link on a mass consumption website by accident and forget about it. Suddenly, instead of people saying 'Ha! You listen to shit music!', the mistake is instead being hailed as the work of an online situationist prankster genius. I mean, it could just as easily have been a link to the web masters favourite animal porn site. 'Yeah! You been Doggy Rolled!!' doesn't quite have the same ring to it, though 'Urgh! You fucking sick cunt' certainly does..........

Anyway, In my own haphazard little way, I've probably led, oh, dozens of people to websites they have little or no interest in..........................

Including this one.



Athlete Cured by The Fall

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!

Quick Everyone, Pretend We're Not At Home.........

It's the night every urban attention seeker looks forward to all year. That chance, so rudely denied in everyday life and seized this once with feverish enthusiasm, to dress up (and act like) a twat.

This evening I'm round at my folks house to hide from the local wildlife and their take on 'trick or treat'. Not sure what they get up to in Woodside, but I'm not really into finding out.

Do kids still go guising? Maybe they don't bother. Maybe it's the same routine of getting up to no good as any other night, but with a cheap plastic horror mask on as a concession to Halloween. Or are they busy playing with fireworks? Sounds far more fun than trying to threaten pennies out of students and OAP's.

I won't bang on about the evils of 'Trick or Treat', if only because it seems so Pavlovian and predictable to do so. Needless to say, a fair amount of kids are escorted around neighbourhoods by adults and shout the term without any intent, satisfied with a few pennies and a handful of Mini Heroes. It's when they're five foot five with bumfluff 'taches and broken voices that you need to be mindful.

For my own part, I recall Halloween with a mixture of fondness and embarrassment. The dressing up bit was always something to look forward to, but having to remember jokes that weren't too rude to tell the old dear upstairs was something of a chore. Costumes? The year I went in drag sticks in my mind for obvious reasons. I could only have been about nine or ten...............I doubt there are any parents who would allow such a thing now. Such parental 'misguidance' in this day and age would be deeply frowned upon, no doubt leading to them being put on the sex offenders register or some such nonsense.

It's funny really, that's the kind of leap of logic you would make when faced with having nothing to wear. Every other kid in the street had something worked up, but coming home from school in a town ten miles away meant that sometimes I had nothing planned out and if you were in any way intending on boosting that weekends pocket money, then you damn well better find something to wear.

Sure as hell beats going as a Blues Brother or Franken Furter or Elvis or sticking on an afro wig and pretending to be from an obscure tv sitcom.

Tonight I'm going out as Phil Collins, circa 'Face Value'/'Something In The Air Tonight'

Now, where are my portable sine drums..............

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

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

'Avin It!!