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Look, before you start reading this, let's be clear about something. This is your doing. No less than three of you have tagged me to do this (Kate, Marcus and his cowardly mate, Gavin). Well Gavin was going to but settled for goading his big mate, Marcus into doing it instead. What was I meant to do? Ignore them? What! with my ego? Are you kidding?
So, here's where I tell you five things you don't know about me. (Like you know a lot about me already.) Kate? Marcus? Gavin? You didn't really think this through now did you?- I was once very good at Judo. In fact, I was a schoolboy international, Okay, so I was mainly in the reserves, but I did get to fight once. Against Germany. I only managed a draw.
- I once made a feature film. It won several awards around the world and is still shown on Australian TV. It was released in England in 2001 on 3 screens in London's West End. I think 37 people saw it. All family members.
- I have been very, very fortunate in love. Thank you Alison
- I once stole a policeman's cap. Boasted about it to his ex-partner on the force (who was now a bouncer in a night club), got grassed up by said bouncer, arrested and finally dumped in the middle of a field in Bognor, at 3 in the morning.
- I love chillies. I mean, I really love them. I also love the irony that God made them hot so we'd spit them out, but instead we eat them because they're hot. Ha ha, big man.
Now that I've done this I get to tag fve more bloggers to do the same. I don't feel bad about this because they have all, at some time or other PISSED ME OFF, THE BASTARDS
Martin, for being funnier than me
Stefan for being more gifted than the whole of me
Kirsty for having a better idea for a blog than me
Russell for having more energy than 14 mes. (Plus I really want to see who he sends it on to.)
PJ for..., well, hes never pissed me off. He was picked by the hand of fate, as he was just the next site to appear when I pressed the Next Blog Button up at the top, and I thought it interesting to see what would happen and whether there is a real blogging community.
I hate you. Seriously, I really hate you. Please don't misunderstand me, I. FUCKING. HATE. YOU! I hate so much about you. It's why your ring tone is Kelis' I Hate You So Much Right Now.
I hate the way you turn yourself off for no reason. I hate the fact you tell me I have a message when I don't, and then refuse to remove that silly icon at the top. I hate that your touch-screen is unreadable on even a partially sunny day. Partially! For fuck sake!
I hate the fact I can't change the picture on your screen anymore. I hate you for cutting off my calls for no reason. I hate you for ringing other people in the middle of my conversations. I hate that your stupid little pencily thing falls out easily and is impossible to buy anywhere other than on eBay. I hate that I can't change you until April. I hate the fact your menu is only intuitive to Stephen Hawking. I hate that you've stopped telling me when texts arrive.
I hate that sometimes, when it suits you, you selfish bastard, you can't be bothered to ring and so calls go straight to the answerphone. And then I think, is that a message or are you lying again? I hate that you're not compatible with Apples. And let me tell you something, you're not a real computer. You're not even a real phone. In fact, you PISS ME OFF, IN SO, SO MANY WAYS, YOU BASTARD.
Saw this on Sunday in a colour suppliment. No idea why I read it, but read it I did. (Probably something to do with that crazy interest rate) Anyway it goes, blah, blah, blah, blah blah, blah outrageous assumption, weak joke, blah, blah logo.
What got me is the fucking assumption 'I should be able to stretch to it' Do they know my bank balance? Do they know my income? My outgoings? My commitments? My preference? No, beardy jumper boy employee, you don't.
Oh and let me tell you something about this punny line, it's lacking the funny bit. Not that I really care because you've already PISSED ME OFF, YOU BASTARD.
I've just been invited to a wedding. I want to tell you their names, give you their mobile numbers and their email addresses, but I can't, because I don't have many friends.
Like all weddings, this one came with a list. Like most wedding lists it revealed how fucking greedy people can be.
This couple are doing all right, they'd have been called yuppies in a previous decade. And yet, despite living together for a few good years now have still managed to put together a list of stuff you would not believe. Stuff like a fish kettle. (If you don't know what one of these are, that's one up there in the picture.)
And to make it worse, this couple reheat, defrost, order-in or go-out. What they don't do is cook. But seeing as they're not paying, and seeing as they have everything they could want they stick a fish kettle on their wedding list, because, and only because, they don't have one. Well, YOU PISSED ME OFF, YOU GREEDY BASTARDS.
What a wanker. I once knew this guy (no, not Tim Westwood) and he use to boast, I'm a racist when It comes to music. I only like black musicians.
Oh, really? I am impressed. So you're happy to dismiss a whole chunk of music simply because of the colour of the people playing it? As I said, what a wanker.
Sure you can love opera and hate hip-hop, or refuse to whoop and holler to country & western, yet clap enthusiastically to classical. But that wasn't what this dickhead was saying. No, for him, as long as the singer was black, the music was great.
So, that meant a massive thumbs up to Boney M and MC Hammer and Five and So Solid Crew and Johnny Mathis and The Three Degrees but an equally massive thumbs down to The Beatles and REM and The Clash and Mozart and Radiohead and Johnny Cash and David Bowie and U2 and Elvis and and The Beach Boys and Yes and Frank Sinatra and Matt Monro and The Verve on and on and on and on.. and just because they're white.
Now, of course what he was really saying was that he was so insecure he couldn't afford to admit to liking anything that might even remotely be thought of as uncool (and as any white middle-class boy will tell you, black is cool).
I believe great music comes from the heart be it black or white and that is why, YOU PISSED ME OFF, YOU BASTARD
I had some time to kill So I thought, 'Hmmm, coffee'. And off I went to Carluccios, Ealing branch, opposite the green. Sipping said coffee I had another thought, Hmmm, I wonder if i can get online here.
I got out my Mac and it searched for wifi. And what do you know, Carluccios has it. I asked the waitress if I could have the password, thinking they didn't want just anybody using their Internet access, but she said, "Nope, can't have it". Apparently it's not for the likes of us paying customers either. Which, while begging the question who uses it then, does explain why YOU PISS ME OFF, YOU BASTARDS.
Some books seem to me to be better without them. Like cookery books. Like the one above. But this post isn't about cookery books or dust covers, it's about the hardcover underneath.
Say, like me, you've made the decision to remove the cover, what do you find? I'll tell you, you find the same sodding picture as the one you've just taken off - only now you can't remove it.
Oh, sorry, you mean you didn't want our photo cover? WELL TOUGH SHIT, live with it.
If I wanted the picture I'd have kept the dust cover on, wouldn't I? But I didn't. It was because I wanted a plain cover. Any colour, I don't care about the colour, I just want a plain cover. Is that really too much to ask? It's publishers like this that REALLY PISS ME OFF, YOU BASTARDS.
There use to be a time when people were content to just throw their rubbish on the street. Them were the good old days, my friends. Now, they try and shove it through your letterbox. Thompson Local, you PISSED ME OFF YOU BASTARDS