A Short Intermission

I don't intend to blog for a few days. Be good and don't break the furniture.

Songs Of Summer No9: REM - Gardening At Night

Filth: The Plot Thickens

A note to the binmen and my neighbours: WILL YOU PLEASE SHUT THE FUCKING BIN SHELTER GATE AFTER YOU!!!!! Thankyou.

Well, it looks like a new face has entered the fray with regard to the disgusting shitehole that is my back court. I thought I'd pretty much sussed out the problem with the rubbish build up and the crap strewn bin shelters. I assumed it was to do with lazy tennants, poor quality bin bags, badly desigend bins and opportunistic wildlife. Enter the newest gladiator to the fray, our very own bin men. Yes, the chaps whose wages I fucking pay to lift my refuse. I may well be putting two and two together and getting five, but it does seem like a bit of a coincidence that the garden path was clear of garbage on Tuesday night, yet this morning I was awoken by a bin lorry, and only an hour later looked out my window to see a variety of product wrapping and other detritus strewn across the back path again (see photo)

You really don't want to see the nick of the shelter itself. Not sure what to do other than get obsessive, camouflage up and hide in the communal garden, waiting for the true culprits to present themselves. I have a feeling it's not that simple, and it is indeed an unholy alliance of bad design, tennant negligence, slapdash binmen and scabby pigeons and magpies. I don't know, maybe I'm being too picky. Maybe that's how most people live, happy to ditch their crap any old place, as long as they don't have to look at or enter the 'midgies' for fear of catching something unpleasant. I dread the day I find the first bin bags to be left at the back door of the close. I don't intend to let it get that far...............................

I'm getting on to the GCC and insisting on bigger, covered bins. If this is a problem for them, then all I can say is they have a cheek claiming what they do off me in council tax. Songs of Summer No 8: JC - Sonic Youth

The Meaning Of Life

Hot City Symphony Part 2

That's always the problem with good weather. Yes, it's warm, bright, great to be outside in, but the downside is if you've decided to have a day indoors through lack of funds and general lethargy.................God, It feels like you need to take a bath every couple of hours.......... So, as we all open our windows, draw our blinds shut and consider walking about 'nekkid' (I do apologise for any unpleasant images that might throw up), let us raise a glass to British summertime finally getting it's arse in gear and making us all feel icky and uncomfortable........... Anyway, in keeping with Saturday nights 'hot under the collar' ranting, I'd like to move onto the subject of theft. Now, I'm no copyright law obsessive, all my music, movie clips and photographs are free of copyright. Why? Well, they're not consistently good enough to be worth it. I also make no money off my 'work' and wouldn't expect to. If someone uses one of my better photos for illustrative purposes, I don't mind. It would be nice if they had the manners to name me as the creator of the image, but I'm not gonna get all moist downstairs about it. In most cases, it'll be a case of 'what I don't know won't hurt me'. The problems arise, of course, when some oaf claims your image as their own. This is where I ought to be a little more careful, but beyond defacing what I put up with 'watermarkings', I don't really see what other options are available. Now, I haven't had any problems personally, but an acquaintance through the speedway has found herself in a bit of a pickle. She takes photographs at Ashfield from the terracing, and damn fine they are too. So good in fact that some spotty little herberts with Bebo sites have lifted her photos and put them up on their pages. This wouldn't be a huge problem, but said delinquents seem to have gone to Bebo and complained that it is they who hold copyright on the images, even though it's patently obvious they didn't take a single one of them. The upshot of this is that the photo hosting site this woman uses has blocked her out while it 'investigates' the possibility of copyright violation. It's obvious to a blind man running for a bus who the real offenders are, but seemingly Bebo haven't the wit or intelligence to realise that a couple of their members have been telling porkies. My belief that 75% of those on Faceache or Bebo are total arseholes hasn't been changed by this particular incident. The sheer brass neck of it is shocking. Taking and using someones pictures is one thing, implicitly claiming them as your own another, but complaining to a site host that the person who took the photos has had the nerve to claim copyright on them? It's like something out of Kafka or 1984. I suspect there may be a vendetta at work here. It's something that defies logic and can only conceivably be driven by arrogance and spite. I wish the lady in question well, and can only hope that she enjoys her revenge. Songs of the Summer No 7: Wouldn't It Be Nice - Oldham Brothers

Hot City Symphony (Sweating Like A Kraft Cheese Slice Left Out On A Formica Worktop Remix)

I hope you can forgive the 'hot and bothered' tone of this post, but that's just what I am right now. I can barely move without working up a sweat. It's cooled off as little now that night has fallen, but the haze that has enveloped Glasgow in the past few days seems to be sealing all the heat in. It feels like it anyway.................... I hear ice cream vans in some parts of England are being forced to curtail their 'jolly jingles' to blasts of no more than four seconds at a time. "What a travesty!" I hear the reactionary press holler, hastily reaching for their well thumbed book of heart warming 'This isn't our country anymore' clichés. They seem to be under the impression that these guys tootle about dispensing joy to all and sundry. Sorry folks, this isn't the 'Good Humor' man we're talking about here. Have you ever been served by one of the surly fuckers? Oh, and their jingles aren't 'quaint', they're a fucking earsore! Do I have to hear the fucking bastards at all? Can they not get something done about the coronary inducing volume they play their jingles at? See when some prick in a big yellow van parks outside my front door and lets rip? I'm not thinking of buying ice cream, cheap fags or pirated dvd's off him. No, I'm thinking of gouging out the fat cunts eyeballs with his ice-cream scoop and having them with my spaghetti hoops! Then theres the bins. Like Clairwil, I seem to have utter cunts for neighbours. The bin shelters in my back court are less than ideal, it has to be said. They're open, the bins are too small and have no lids, but how does that prevent anyone from performing simple tasks like putting refuse in the bins and closing the shelter gate behind them? It doesn't, but it seems many human beings are more than happy to inflict their filth on others. One last thing, I know in these days of watching the pennies and cutting ones cloth to fit, that sacrifices need to be made. It's an Aldi microwave curry instead of classy M&S ready meals, it's a packet of gristly looking 'Tesco Value' mince instead of a pound of the butchers finest.............What it doesn't mean is buying 'so thin they're transparent' bin liners. Bin liners are dirt fucking cheap anyway, even good quality ones. If you see a roll of 200 going for about 50p, take it as read that if they don't split half way to the bins, they'll get ripped to shreds by the local wildlife in seconds flat, thus decorating the back gardens, both communal and private, with your unattractive personal detritus. You thick cunt! Anyway, I bought a sunflower plant today, so I have no real right to be so grouchy.

A quick guide to seedbombing and a wee link to the Guerrilla Gardening site., then............ Songs Of The Summer No6: Teardrops Falling by The Versatiles (what a name!)

Seals2

Feeding Time!

Seals1

Mr Seal waits for his brunch. The lazy so and so............