I love driving, yes even in my 1.4 litre Czech motor which is actually pretty damn good in the corners and accelerates much faster than you might think. But there are certain issues in driving that are slowly eating away at my sanity.
Firstly, indicators. These, my dear children, are for indicating. That's right, they are a signal of intent. The number of times the person in front of me has done an emergency stop, yanked hard on the wheel to turn left WHILE SIMULTANEOUSLY TURNING ON THEIR INDICATOR, honestly it drives you insane! (Drives? eh? see what I did there? wink wink?
Secondly, roundabouts. Now I know these stupid paint blob mini-roundabouts are a pain in the ass, I know, no-one likes them, but on big roundabouts there be rules. The simplest of which is this. If you find you are on the inside lane and are about to miss your turn off, keep fucking going. Do not, and I really mean DO NOT abruptly pull across in front of me while waving apologetically into your rear-view mirror. You will find that if you had continued forward, the road would have miraculously brought you back to the same place. Cool huh?
Thirdly, people who speed. Then don't. Then do. You know the ones that do 40mph in a 40mph zone, until they reach a 30mph zone, where they continue to do 40, then they reach a 60mph zone, and I'll be buggered if they don't just keep on doing 40mph. Now, I have some sympathy if you drive a Toyota, as this may not be a situation that you have chosen so much as something the car had decided to do all on its own, but seriously, one of the hallmarks of a good driver is consistency. Having someone tailgate me through a 30mph area only to disappear into my rear view when I hit a 60 or 70mph zone is bloody irritating, save for the vaguely pleasurable "Knight Rider" feeling you get when you roar away from someone without actually roaring at all.
And for the finale, with reference to what happened to me on the way to pick up my wife last night, if you find yourself on the inside lane when the lanes merge, let the poor buggers stuck on the outside in will you? I know it's irritating when you are stuck there and you have to let someone in who has rocketed past the last half mile of stationery traffic, but consider this. If no-one was letting them in, what choice did they have other than to go looking for a gap? Sure, they could risk an accident by muscling their way in, but even this is not an option when you drive the aformentioned 1.4litre Czech bubble car. I, for one, was out there because the person in front of me had executed an emergency stop at 85mph while towing an overloaded trailer tent. Given the way it started jumping and bucking like a hippo being electricuted, I pulled out. I then found that the next mile of traffic was moving but with stopping distances of about .25 of a second between their bumpers. In fact, so determined were several drivers to strand those poor unfortunates in the outside lane that I saw three, and I mean THREE almost rear end crashes. I did not pull out because I was driving like a dick. I pulled out because the guy in front of me was, and looked like he was going to lose control. As I was being tailgated, an emergency stop of my own was not the safest option.
So to the guy in the Maroon Fiat Stilo, who stuck his fingers up at me when I got to the point I was totally stuck while screaming "FUCK YOU!" out of his window, fuck you right back dear heart. It is people like you who cause the traffic jams, by tailgating and stop-starting and refusing to allow the traffic to flow because you think you are in some sort of race. Pulling out is sometimes the safest thing to do. For example, if your father had pulled out you wouldn't be here at all, and that would have made the road a safer place for us all. I am a sensible and highly competent driver after my only two years experience and acted to avoid what could have been a very nasty accident. You are in your sixties and, quite frankly, if you haven't learnt to reign in your anger by now you shouldn't be driving at all. One day you will do that to someone who will either follow you, or just happen to be going to the same place as you and you will then realise the stupidity of a sixty year old man enfuriating a much larger man in his twenties. Thankfully, that would not be me because, as I said, sensible, competent and not that sort of bloke. But quite a few are.
P.S. the look on your face when, several miles later, you looked in your rear-view mirror and saw me smiling back at you in my most wolfish manner, was worth a million pounds at least. I was not following you, although the colour rapidly draining out of your face made it clear that you thought I was. Think on this, because the next person might not be decent, competent and sensible.
Friday, 28 May 2010
Friday, 21 May 2010
Dangerous stuff eh? Terrorists? Meteorites? Pigeons armed with plasma rifles? Yeah, ok mate, I'd better go over here now.....
Ham. Oh yes, the great beast of legend has returned to eat our souls and fill our nostrils with aids! Mwuhahaha!
Is it just me or does practically everything give you cancer? Or heart disease. Or makes your testicles swell up and take on a life of their own, rampaging down the high street armed with a pair of nuclear powered chopsticks, molesting your children, driving down property prices and stealing your personal information to sell to the highest bidder, a man who runs an Icelandic bank who will then run off to spend your savings on hardcore Vietnamese goat porn?
Makes you think doesn’t it. I’m half tempted to fund scientific research of my own that will conclude with “The X-chromosome gives you cancer. All attempts to treat it will give you cancer. Worrying about it will give you cancer. We are ALL screwed now get on with your lives, you gullible, paranoid, fish brained butt monkeys. PS. Further research in this field will give you cancer”.
Now the average person is fairly smart, but when surrounded by so many health warnings, who wouldn’t become a little paranoid? We are already concerned with our own finances, health, our jobs, our kids education, war, famine, artichokes, the bubonic plague etc without it being constantly added to whenever a piece of flawed, biased and just plain stupid research surfaces from the primordial soup. Can you imagine taking a child that is worried about the monster under their bed and saying “That’s nothing! There’s bird flu, old men that want to touch you in the pants, aids, all manner of shit exploding and endless re-runs of Friends to be scared of too!”
Ethically you shouldn’t scare the living piss out of people unless you either have a very good reason or are a total gimp, and I do have to wonder which category these so called “researchers” fit into.
Take war for example. War is a terrible thing, something to be avoided whenever possible, yet now it is televised. We don’t get radio broadcasts and grainy, black and white pictures of troops neck deep in the dark and brown like in the good old days. We no longer have the comfort of a reasonable degree of detachment so we can all get on with our lives in the meanwhile. We hear the names and circumstances involved in every roadside bomb. We see each individual grieving family, the little girls who have lost their daddy, the heaped flowers outside a soldiers home.
We see each and every Asian guy who is less than satisfied with this country, even if their reasons are legitimate, held up as if he was caught drowning kittens in caustic soda. We then hear the details of his benefit history; as if there aren’t white people out there scrounging for all they’re worth too. Sure, it makes me mad that people who hate this country have the brass balls to sit and claim benefits and make up bullshit claims for why they don’t have to work, but there are far fewer of them than there are perfectly able bodied white people who could work but can’t be bothered. Not to mention women who are quite open with the fact that they don’t see why they should work when the government will fund them to sit at home and knock out children like there is no tomorrow.
All these people steal money from people with genuine disability and people who deserve the help of the benefit system, to prop them up so they can rejoin the workforce later and educate their children properly. But the way the media makes it sound is like all people on benefits are scummers.
Is it true that Polish migrant workers can claim disability benefit for their disabled children who do not live here? Yes it is. Is that a fair reason to hate all the Polish migrants? No it isn’t.
The British media has become a huge, bloated old witch stirring up a cauldron full of misery, throwing in statistics to fool us into believing they have anything of value to tell us.
Is this news to anyone? No, probably not, but that is not what concerns me.
What worries me is that one day, in the wake of the BSE scares, Bird Flu, Bovine TB, SARS, Terrorism, Megan Fox and bras that will rise up and sacrifice you to the Blood God, I am seriously concerned that when something serious actually DOES come along, we will all be so sick of bloody hearing it that no-one will believe it and, in the biggest case of “little boy who cried wolf” in human history we really will all be in deep shit.
But nevermind, I’m sure that when we are all scrabbling for the last few tins of food and murdering each other for the last copy of “What Hi-fi” magazine, there will be an idiot there to film it all for the evening news.
And they will probably blame the Coalition Government.
Is it just me or does practically everything give you cancer? Or heart disease. Or makes your testicles swell up and take on a life of their own, rampaging down the high street armed with a pair of nuclear powered chopsticks, molesting your children, driving down property prices and stealing your personal information to sell to the highest bidder, a man who runs an Icelandic bank who will then run off to spend your savings on hardcore Vietnamese goat porn?
Makes you think doesn’t it. I’m half tempted to fund scientific research of my own that will conclude with “The X-chromosome gives you cancer. All attempts to treat it will give you cancer. Worrying about it will give you cancer. We are ALL screwed now get on with your lives, you gullible, paranoid, fish brained butt monkeys. PS. Further research in this field will give you cancer”.
Now the average person is fairly smart, but when surrounded by so many health warnings, who wouldn’t become a little paranoid? We are already concerned with our own finances, health, our jobs, our kids education, war, famine, artichokes, the bubonic plague etc without it being constantly added to whenever a piece of flawed, biased and just plain stupid research surfaces from the primordial soup. Can you imagine taking a child that is worried about the monster under their bed and saying “That’s nothing! There’s bird flu, old men that want to touch you in the pants, aids, all manner of shit exploding and endless re-runs of Friends to be scared of too!”
Ethically you shouldn’t scare the living piss out of people unless you either have a very good reason or are a total gimp, and I do have to wonder which category these so called “researchers” fit into.
Take war for example. War is a terrible thing, something to be avoided whenever possible, yet now it is televised. We don’t get radio broadcasts and grainy, black and white pictures of troops neck deep in the dark and brown like in the good old days. We no longer have the comfort of a reasonable degree of detachment so we can all get on with our lives in the meanwhile. We hear the names and circumstances involved in every roadside bomb. We see each individual grieving family, the little girls who have lost their daddy, the heaped flowers outside a soldiers home.
We see each and every Asian guy who is less than satisfied with this country, even if their reasons are legitimate, held up as if he was caught drowning kittens in caustic soda. We then hear the details of his benefit history; as if there aren’t white people out there scrounging for all they’re worth too. Sure, it makes me mad that people who hate this country have the brass balls to sit and claim benefits and make up bullshit claims for why they don’t have to work, but there are far fewer of them than there are perfectly able bodied white people who could work but can’t be bothered. Not to mention women who are quite open with the fact that they don’t see why they should work when the government will fund them to sit at home and knock out children like there is no tomorrow.
All these people steal money from people with genuine disability and people who deserve the help of the benefit system, to prop them up so they can rejoin the workforce later and educate their children properly. But the way the media makes it sound is like all people on benefits are scummers.
Is it true that Polish migrant workers can claim disability benefit for their disabled children who do not live here? Yes it is. Is that a fair reason to hate all the Polish migrants? No it isn’t.
The British media has become a huge, bloated old witch stirring up a cauldron full of misery, throwing in statistics to fool us into believing they have anything of value to tell us.
Is this news to anyone? No, probably not, but that is not what concerns me.
What worries me is that one day, in the wake of the BSE scares, Bird Flu, Bovine TB, SARS, Terrorism, Megan Fox and bras that will rise up and sacrifice you to the Blood God, I am seriously concerned that when something serious actually DOES come along, we will all be so sick of bloody hearing it that no-one will believe it and, in the biggest case of “little boy who cried wolf” in human history we really will all be in deep shit.
But nevermind, I’m sure that when we are all scrabbling for the last few tins of food and murdering each other for the last copy of “What Hi-fi” magazine, there will be an idiot there to film it all for the evening news.
And they will probably blame the Coalition Government.
Monday, 17 May 2010
Hung Parliament? We’re not getting everything we want? Right, that’s it. SEND IN THE UNCLEAN!
This is a brief thank you to the group of morons currently camped outside of parliament square in London, in protest at the fact we are not likely to be getting the sort of electoral reform that some of us wanted.
I voted for the Liberal Democrats at the last election and am proud of that fact. I am also proud of the way in which Nick Clegg and his people have conducted themselves after the fact, helping to set up what they would consider the best government we have available at the moment.
I am pleased that when there are issues that are unacceptable there are pressure groups and people who go out onto the streets in protest, waving their banners and placards in safety, given that we live in a country where they are free to do this without being dispersed with tear gas and rubber bullets.
What displeases me is the conduct of the idiots that have been out to buy tents from the favela section in Millets and set up on the lawn outside parliament. Why? Because I believe they are doing much more harm than good and because of the slapdash attitude they have taken to the whole affair.
“We will only leave if we are evicted by force or if our demands are met”. Followed by a laundry list of demands including electoral reform, ending the war in Afghanistan, making Ed Balls change his name to something that doesn’t make me giggle and free machines that go PING! for every hospital in the land.
Now if you want to organise a protest that will garner support from the general public, there are a few simple rules which you should follow.
Firstly, it has to have a permit if it is within one mile of parliament square. Was it too much to ask that you organise the damn thing properly? Now the police are immediately involved and as soon as any of you does anything at all that could be considered nuisance behaviour, it will be shut down and you will be moved on and it will be your own fault. Believe me, they are waiting for this to happen and their response will be well organised and rapid, as if they had been expecting this to happen. Funny that…
Secondly, keep it clean! Nobody will sympathise with you if you dump all your rubbish everywhere making the place look like Glastonbury bloody festival. Nobody takes any notice of stupid people in tents, up to their necks in their own detritus. Remember Swampy? He was a media darling for quite some time when the council wanted to build a motorway across Bambi’s forehead, but nobody really took him seriously. He was a novelty, little more. To get something like electoral reform we need to be taken seriously, not as some bunch of bleeding heart Muppets littering Parliament Square with McDonald’s wrappers.
Lastly, if you want something done, even in the dim hopes of a successful protest, you need to have a clear message for the powers that be. Chants of “What do we want?!?” “Your agreement to implement points one to eighteen, with particular attention to annexes one to fourteen in section two and an end to the war in Afghanistan with reference to the issues raised in the appendices section part four, paragraph two” will not work. You need a clear and concise message or you look like a bunch of whining, far left wing idiots. Ordinarily that would not bother me, but this time you are representing an issue that is of great importance to a great many people and your behaviour is acting in detriment to this cause.
The Lib Dems are in a position to make things better, even if not to make them the way that a lot of us want. But you must remember that those that are against electoral reform are going to hold you up as an example of the kind of people that want this reform. We need to be seen as serious, dedicated and intelligent people in order to be given the time of day and setting up a shanty town next door to the seats of power is not the way to do it.
Please either clean up your act, re-organise this properly or simply get the fuck out of London, because you are damaging the cause and making us all look stupid.
Thanks, disgruntled in Cornwall.
I voted for the Liberal Democrats at the last election and am proud of that fact. I am also proud of the way in which Nick Clegg and his people have conducted themselves after the fact, helping to set up what they would consider the best government we have available at the moment.
I am pleased that when there are issues that are unacceptable there are pressure groups and people who go out onto the streets in protest, waving their banners and placards in safety, given that we live in a country where they are free to do this without being dispersed with tear gas and rubber bullets.
What displeases me is the conduct of the idiots that have been out to buy tents from the favela section in Millets and set up on the lawn outside parliament. Why? Because I believe they are doing much more harm than good and because of the slapdash attitude they have taken to the whole affair.
“We will only leave if we are evicted by force or if our demands are met”. Followed by a laundry list of demands including electoral reform, ending the war in Afghanistan, making Ed Balls change his name to something that doesn’t make me giggle and free machines that go PING! for every hospital in the land.
Now if you want to organise a protest that will garner support from the general public, there are a few simple rules which you should follow.
Firstly, it has to have a permit if it is within one mile of parliament square. Was it too much to ask that you organise the damn thing properly? Now the police are immediately involved and as soon as any of you does anything at all that could be considered nuisance behaviour, it will be shut down and you will be moved on and it will be your own fault. Believe me, they are waiting for this to happen and their response will be well organised and rapid, as if they had been expecting this to happen. Funny that…
Secondly, keep it clean! Nobody will sympathise with you if you dump all your rubbish everywhere making the place look like Glastonbury bloody festival. Nobody takes any notice of stupid people in tents, up to their necks in their own detritus. Remember Swampy? He was a media darling for quite some time when the council wanted to build a motorway across Bambi’s forehead, but nobody really took him seriously. He was a novelty, little more. To get something like electoral reform we need to be taken seriously, not as some bunch of bleeding heart Muppets littering Parliament Square with McDonald’s wrappers.
Lastly, if you want something done, even in the dim hopes of a successful protest, you need to have a clear message for the powers that be. Chants of “What do we want?!?” “Your agreement to implement points one to eighteen, with particular attention to annexes one to fourteen in section two and an end to the war in Afghanistan with reference to the issues raised in the appendices section part four, paragraph two” will not work. You need a clear and concise message or you look like a bunch of whining, far left wing idiots. Ordinarily that would not bother me, but this time you are representing an issue that is of great importance to a great many people and your behaviour is acting in detriment to this cause.
The Lib Dems are in a position to make things better, even if not to make them the way that a lot of us want. But you must remember that those that are against electoral reform are going to hold you up as an example of the kind of people that want this reform. We need to be seen as serious, dedicated and intelligent people in order to be given the time of day and setting up a shanty town next door to the seats of power is not the way to do it.
Please either clean up your act, re-organise this properly or simply get the fuck out of London, because you are damaging the cause and making us all look stupid.
Thanks, disgruntled in Cornwall.
Saturday, 8 May 2010
Come on then! Come on! I'll bite yer ankles ya giant bastard!
Since the first utterances, those first vestigial syllables that came a tumbling out of the mouth of what can just about be called a human being, sat somewhere on the plains, poking their own faeces with a stick, words have had power.
There are words which vent frustration, words that show rage, ones for the expression of love and adoration for another, words that comfort and words that will endure long after those who spoke them are gone.
Then there are words which fill you with an intense mixture of feelings as their foul and pestilential tang disrupts your humours until you want to burst your eardrums with a screwdriver so as to never have to hear them again. And among these, there are two which irk me most of all.
DANNY DYER.
Don't know him? Well it doesn't matter, because you've met him. Yes, you really have. Remember at school the huge kid, the one that had bigger knuckles than brains? Used to beat the living hell out of kids that would have stood no chance had they come armed with a chainsaw? Right, now remember the weedly, smirking little prick that stood behind that kid,goading his trollish master onto further acts of violence and torment? Hid behind him because he was far too chicken shit to ever actually take anyone on himself but loved to hang out with the hard kids and thought he was the dogs back wheels?
That's him, at least it is to all intents and purposes. I cannot fucking stand Danny Dyer, he is a total and utter pussy yet likes to hang around with some thoroughly hard blokes like Jason Statham and Vinnie Jones and bask in the reflective glory of how tough his mates are.
He hosts that show, you know, worlds hardest Ice Cream van drivers etc? Standing there posturing like a fucking peacock, swaggering around like the hardest man in the world, until the tough guy that is the basis for the show inevitably beats the everlasting crap out of him and shows him to be the pansy that he truly is.
Now why do I have a problem with Danny Dyer? Because I hate bullies.
I have been bullied myself and have stood up for people in my life whenever I have been able to and that has a lot to do with why I am the slightly sociopathic, ranting nutjob I am. But I got over it, grew up, got some perspective and learned to take care of myself, no thanks to wankers like Danny Dyer.
His response when asked by a reader of his low-level wankmag column how to deal with a very upsetting breakup from a girl he had been truly in love with?
"You could do A, B, C, or you could just cut her face so no-one else would ever want her".
Charming, you little shithead. And now you are trying to claim you were "miss-quoted". How exactly? Cup her face was it? You didn't want to pie and mash her boat race? Oh right, I forgot, like all bullies you squeal like a little piggy when you are confronted over your actions because you don't even have the balls to back it up.
Mr Dyer, I honestly hope that the next person you annoy takes you to task for the things you do and say. You think there is anything funny about domestic violence? Guess again. I know you will claim that you didn't mean it, or it was out of context or whatever, but you know the truth. You know exactly the kind of man you are and one day, when you open your mouth too far, someone will be waiting for you and your hard mates won't be around to protect you.
Now that is a TV program i would definately tune in for.
There are words which vent frustration, words that show rage, ones for the expression of love and adoration for another, words that comfort and words that will endure long after those who spoke them are gone.
Then there are words which fill you with an intense mixture of feelings as their foul and pestilential tang disrupts your humours until you want to burst your eardrums with a screwdriver so as to never have to hear them again. And among these, there are two which irk me most of all.
DANNY DYER.
Don't know him? Well it doesn't matter, because you've met him. Yes, you really have. Remember at school the huge kid, the one that had bigger knuckles than brains? Used to beat the living hell out of kids that would have stood no chance had they come armed with a chainsaw? Right, now remember the weedly, smirking little prick that stood behind that kid,goading his trollish master onto further acts of violence and torment? Hid behind him because he was far too chicken shit to ever actually take anyone on himself but loved to hang out with the hard kids and thought he was the dogs back wheels?
That's him, at least it is to all intents and purposes. I cannot fucking stand Danny Dyer, he is a total and utter pussy yet likes to hang around with some thoroughly hard blokes like Jason Statham and Vinnie Jones and bask in the reflective glory of how tough his mates are.
He hosts that show, you know, worlds hardest Ice Cream van drivers etc? Standing there posturing like a fucking peacock, swaggering around like the hardest man in the world, until the tough guy that is the basis for the show inevitably beats the everlasting crap out of him and shows him to be the pansy that he truly is.
Now why do I have a problem with Danny Dyer? Because I hate bullies.
I have been bullied myself and have stood up for people in my life whenever I have been able to and that has a lot to do with why I am the slightly sociopathic, ranting nutjob I am. But I got over it, grew up, got some perspective and learned to take care of myself, no thanks to wankers like Danny Dyer.
His response when asked by a reader of his low-level wankmag column how to deal with a very upsetting breakup from a girl he had been truly in love with?
"You could do A, B, C, or you could just cut her face so no-one else would ever want her".
Charming, you little shithead. And now you are trying to claim you were "miss-quoted". How exactly? Cup her face was it? You didn't want to pie and mash her boat race? Oh right, I forgot, like all bullies you squeal like a little piggy when you are confronted over your actions because you don't even have the balls to back it up.
Mr Dyer, I honestly hope that the next person you annoy takes you to task for the things you do and say. You think there is anything funny about domestic violence? Guess again. I know you will claim that you didn't mean it, or it was out of context or whatever, but you know the truth. You know exactly the kind of man you are and one day, when you open your mouth too far, someone will be waiting for you and your hard mates won't be around to protect you.
Now that is a TV program i would definately tune in for.
Thursday, 6 May 2010
A rant in all its pure, simplistic beauty.
Ding dong the iPod's dead! Hooray! Stupid bloody shiny piece of monkey rectum gave up the ghost this morning in response to absolutely nothing whatsoever.
Now the loss of an iPod is one thing, but thanks to how bloody ridiculous and stupid Apples software is, all of the music I have paid for from iTunes cannot be copied directly onto my wifes Creative Zen! I have to now buy a load of blank cd's to copy it onto disc, then back onto the computer so I can play music I have already paid for!
Now I wouldn't mind, but I do not illegally download music, so I have to pay AGAIN a small sum to play music I HAVE ALREADY PAID FOR!
That and iTunes has completely and totally fucked up all of the locations of the music files on my computer, and deleted music from iTunes that I downloaded which I now cannot get back without paying for it again!
Thank you Apple, I sincerely hope you do not fall down the stairs onto a skateboard full of rusty nails that give you tetinus, before rolling down the road with you still stuck to it and rolling in front of a truck which knocks you into the air, where you are sucked into the rapidly twirling blades of a jet engine which shreds you and fires your vaporised remains over a forty square mile radius.
Thank you.
P.s. FUCK YOU APPLE!
PRICKS!
Now the loss of an iPod is one thing, but thanks to how bloody ridiculous and stupid Apples software is, all of the music I have paid for from iTunes cannot be copied directly onto my wifes Creative Zen! I have to now buy a load of blank cd's to copy it onto disc, then back onto the computer so I can play music I have already paid for!
Now I wouldn't mind, but I do not illegally download music, so I have to pay AGAIN a small sum to play music I HAVE ALREADY PAID FOR!
That and iTunes has completely and totally fucked up all of the locations of the music files on my computer, and deleted music from iTunes that I downloaded which I now cannot get back without paying for it again!
Thank you Apple, I sincerely hope you do not fall down the stairs onto a skateboard full of rusty nails that give you tetinus, before rolling down the road with you still stuck to it and rolling in front of a truck which knocks you into the air, where you are sucked into the rapidly twirling blades of a jet engine which shreds you and fires your vaporised remains over a forty square mile radius.
Thank you.
P.s. FUCK YOU APPLE!
PRICKS!
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