Sunday, September 28, 2008

The hawk is howling

I would have spent the weekend listening to the new Mogwai if I hadn't found the new Lambchop.

Oh well.

Apparently we've run out of natural resources this week. Which is ironic I suppose because we've also run out of money too.

It was definitely curtains for me. Lots of new curtains. Where the doors should have been. And very smart they look too. Good to see the folks too.

This is a top idea. So why do I have a nasty feeling inside that some might see the opportunity for a game of human Weebles too much to resist. Maybe it's just me.

Autumn's here, hooray. The gulls are circling and New Labour's just become Old Labour. I'm off to see the Duke Spirit again next week. If you're really really lucky I might just tell you what it was like.





R.I.P. Paul Newman, damn fine actor and top salad topping man

Saturday, September 20, 2008

Tragic croutons floating in a bowl of poo soup

I bet the banking industry is currently wishing the world had ended last week when the boffins turned on their inter-dimensional transmogrifier. It's a shame the banks forgot to read their own small print. Y'know, all that stuff about if you can't pay back what you borrow then they're going to take all your shit away. Still, as a concerned citizen and tax payer, I'm glad to be helping out with the democratic ideal that the sins of the few shall be visited upon (and paid for by) the many. I hate to think of all those highly bonused executives left struggling after the weight of such responsibility. I mean, what else can we do? Take them out and beat them to death with their own wallets live on tv?

Of course not.

I've also been amused as to how the potential VP of Disneyland thought it was a good idea to compare hard-working women to a species best known for being bred for mindless violence by feckless fascist fuckwits. Is that better or worse though than not being able to distinguish the difference between a Pit Bull and a Pig? Regardless, I'm definitely not going round theirs for Sunday lunch. At least she's not a technophobe, unlike her boss, although she may want to read our very own Data Handling Review for some useful tips and pointers. That the old timer doesn't use email is probably a good idea, however, as it's one less thing for the White House to lose if the 'Publicans do get in again.

Equally amusing, but with less global impact was the Madonna Wembley gig. Apparently the Madonna crew refused to hook up the sound to Wembley's own top tier PA, so no wonder no-one could hear. Her spokesperson shrugged it off with a wonderfully modern take on the Koan: "I was at the gig and the sound was fine." In other words, if your fans are having a shit time and can't hear, and you can't tell (because you're in the good seats), are your fans really having a shit time and unable to hear anything? This 'spokesperson' is quite clearly an imbecile of astronomic proportions. Their excuse for the late running of the show was just as good, "stage times are only guidelines". Reminds me of the Zimbabwean train timetable we found that stated the departure times were the times before which the train may not leave. Oh, that was back in '89 btw. So although I'm sooooooooooooo pleased that Madge has adopted London as her physical home - hey neighbour, cup of sugar? - quite clearly someone has forgotten to tell her about our transport system, buses, trains, tubes etc, engineering works, no way out of Wembley after sunset. Never mind.

Perhaps she should hire Mark Owen-Lloyd as her spokesperson, whose only crime was to tell it like it is. Which is of course a bug fucking mistake in these enlightened times. I'll gladly add my name to all those official figures who labelled his comments as "inapproprate", because I truly feel that the potential suffering and possible deaths to some suffering from the rising cost of energy bills is indeed, inappropriate.


Reading: Charlie Brooker's Screenburn

Sunday, September 07, 2008

Send lawyers guns and money

Fuck
Almost 2 months to the day since I last posted
That's bad
The days were once long and drifted by
But it's easy to get distracted
And that thing I was going to do tomorrow is now a month ago
Or maybe two

I remember watching house martins pissing about outside the office window
And coots chasing their young from the nest
(thinking mother nature must look like Anne Robinson)
And the days when Bonnie and Clyde brought the kids round
I remember bbqs on the mooring
And one on top of a boat
I've sat in the sun on Chuffy's roof
And gone a little mad working on the kitchen
(Note to self, I go a little more crazy every time I work on the boat)
But I can wash my clothes again
2 weeks off work well spent
And work's been fun
Busy
Very busy at times
But it's hitting all the buttons I wanted it too
They're a damn fine crew (just in case they ever read this!)
I've caught up with some old friends
But not all
Spent some time with my beautiful monsters
But not all
I've seen some great movies
Some I enjoyed when I didn't think I would
And some class-A putrid stinking piles of time-wasting effluent bollocks
I've picked up some fine new tunes
And rediscovered Warren Zevon
I've seen some great shows
And I'm looking forward to this one
I learned a new chord
And forgot it (but it's something to do with F)

There's probably more
And no matter how much time I may have wasted
I didn't waste one fucking second of it watching Big Brother

All is not lost

Normal service may resume, if I ever figure out what normal is.