What's New iLL Man?

Things that have been filling my admittedly tiny cranial cavity over the past week, causing mild flooding in the left ear and several nosebleeds................

i - What the fuck has happened to the speaking clock? There I am on Sunday morning, attempting to synchronise my alarm clock and I've got fucking 'Tinkerbell' squeaking away at me. I don't know what they've done with the well spoken bloke that usually does it. Is he on holiday? When is he back? I'm getting lonely here....................

ii - Made a cyclist stop at a traffic light yesterday. Nothing out of the ordinary in that, but hearing his cries of anguish as he was forced to apply the brakes and obey the rules of the road for once in his fuckwitted life was a rare pleasure. As I watched him approach the lights at something approaching 20mph, I could see the brief flicker of indecision on his face as he considered romping through the crossing. Rather cantankerously, he decided not to. Victory!!

iii - Some household tips. I have triumphed over the mildew currently infesting parts of my house. Well, not entirely, but leaving the bedroom window open in the evenings seems to have sorted the problems in that particular room. Also, re-open yr living room curtains before going to bed is helpful. Don't be conned into buying a de-humidifier folks....

iv - My last trip to the speedway was on Sunday there. I had heard tales from a friend at Ashfield about the female residents of Saracen Street in Possilpark and their thing for pyjamas as streetwear, but I only half believed it. I witnessed the phenomenon for the first time on Sunday afternoon. The look seems to be a Berghaus jacket, a pair of Primark silk-look patterned jammies, either slippers or a pair of trainers and a bag of stuff from the local mini-market. From what I've heard, it's also standard evening wear too..........

I just hope it doesn't catch on with the blokes and I get treated to the sight of fat tattooed lads in boxer shorts and curry stained vests and T-shirts.

v - It would seem that the Democratic candidate for the US presidency suffers a little from an identity crisis in the eyes of some voters. I understand entirely their confusion. For a very long time, I was labouring under the misapprehension that his name was Barry O'Bama and that he was of Irish descent.

You have no idea how glad I was when I found out this wasn't true...................(SATIRE!)

vi - A final thought for the Rangers fan at work who's got a massive chip on his shoulder about not being able to sing certain songs at the football:

The Famine Song is over

Why don't you sing something else................?

Winter Warmer No2 With Me Tonight - The Beach Boys from Smiley Smile

Some Observations On Futility And Impotence

Saw someone having some sort of breakdown in Iceland (the supermarket chain, not the country) the other day. Not sure if she was a junkie or an alkie, but she had packed about half a dozen pizzas into her basket and seemed to be manically hunting through the freezer units. I had noticed she didn't look to be in the rudest health, but I figured she was ok. Apparently not..........I was at the checkout when two staff members suddenly looked a bit panicked and raced off in her direction. I get the feeling she had collapsed in one of the isles. Poor sod, it's no way to fucking live.............

Met a stray dog tonight. No collar, just a wee brown dug, sniffing about and picking up scents. May it find a fair few open rubbish bags tonight. You really do want to stop and call these mutts over, clap them, talk to them, give them a scratch behind the ear. Problem is, they're probably full of fleas and other nasty shit. feeling sorry for these guys is one thing, doing something about it is quite another.

Another seminar at work. This time it was broken up into groups, each one informing you of the benefits of working for Company X. Of the five sections, three did their job with minimum fuss, one condescended badly by using a football pitch and 'cut out' football jerseys to illustrate the difference between the benefits available from the new company as opposed to the old one. They even handed out a 'programme' and 'match ticket' for the 'Benefits Trophy'. Oh dear!

The worst was the head of HR who committed the ultimate sin and decided that we, his audience should do the talking. Sadly, he got about five minutes out of my particular group before deciding he'd had enough and went out for a fag. I hadn't the heart to inform the poor fucker that I couldn't care less about the merger, that I really had no thoughts in my head beyond what I was having for tea tonight and in all honesty, I'd rather have heard more from the guy outlining the pension scheme. Sweet Lord!

On the up side, it was a damn sight better than fighting sleep while some director prattles on for an hour and a half about company structure..............



Too Drunk To Fuck by the Dead Kennedys

I Am A Man Of Simple Pleasures...........

.........Like watching a sock puppet 'recite' Bukowski. It could be worse, it could be Bono..........

there is always that space there
just before they get to us
that space
that fine relaxer
the breather
while say
flopping on a bed
thinking of nothing
or say
pouring a glass of water from the
spigot
while entranced by
nothing

that
gentle pure
space

it's worth

centuries of
existence

say

just to scratch your neck
while looking out the window at
a bare branch

that space
there
before they get to us
ensures
that
when they do
they won't
get it all

ever.

charles bukowski

Reasons To Be Cheerful

Good evening!

How are you?

I'm jolly fine now you ask................There are a hundred and one reasons not to be I suppose, but fuck that. For every boot in the nuts, theres a dozen pleasures and delights, such as...........

Tony Blair announcing his departure date for one. Not that I have any more contempt/indifference towards him than the average punter in the street, it's just that I can now count down the days to 'Gordo Broon Day' and learn the words to East Fife Uber Ales.........(Attempt at humour)

John Reid exiting with his tail between his legs has also been a hi-light. Ah yes, the home office rottie, shorn of it's nuts and limping rather badly. Shall we put him out of his misery? or should we text him..........?

'Fck of bwjws pzs of bak 2 lnrkshr lcal poltix U twat!'

The Tigers have Kings Lynn in the semis of the Premier Trophy. To most Glasgow speedway fans this is the kiss of death, the guarantee of defeat before thoughts of a place in the final can be considered. That may be so, but I'm really quite looking forward to it. If the top end riders are on form and the middle order live up to their potential, then hell, who knows................... Kings Lynn could win both legs...................(Another attempt at humour)

I'm not making my case very well here, am I?

Anyway, it's the weekend, I'm a bit drunk and life is essentially a good thing.

It's Youtube ya rube!!!!

Ed Is Dead

Can't believe the poor sap who sits opposite me at work. he seems to have been sucked into being nominated as department rep, yet I've never seen someone so happy to put themselves forward for punnishment. The company I work for is in the middle of a 'merger' as it's being euphemistically referred to and his duties will consist of going to some meetings in which our new overlords go through the motions of liasing with the workforce and listening to our concerns. He reckons it'll look good on his cv, and he may be correct. Thing is, I have doubts about just how much attention companies pay to cv's when they hire people. I think theres an experiment in there......Submit a cv to various companies in which you claim in the 'personal info' section to be sixteen feet tall, possess x-ray vision, speak all known languages and possess the ability to wipe out humanity on a whim. Yes, you may be referred to the psychiatric panel by 95% of the employers you contact, but I'm also sure that there would be someone who would be more than happy to entertain you.

"Well, maybe he gives a good interview......."

On an entirely unrelated note, I was thinking the other day, "who would be my 'holy trinity' of rock'n'roll?" It's a dumb thing to think about, yet it kept me ruminating for most of the walk home yesterday. For me, Brian Wilson would be one element, Iggy Pop another........

Can anyone suggest the final element of this rather perverse 'Godhead'?

Does anyone have their own trio of pop culture genius? I'd be interested to know just how many others out there occupy their time with such useless thoughts.

Cheers!

An Argument With Hitler In Minehead