Good evening/morning/afternoon or whatever, depending on what part of the globe you are currently presiding in. I have to do this due to the fact that my readership is such an international affair…….oh alright, some bloke in South Korea got drunk, and stumbled upon my blog by accident, and then had to have counselling, if it’s all the same to you, I’ll pretend that I am globally adored, thank you!
So, talking of the globe, what has been happening in this crazy old world of ours eh? Well I suppose the biggest news of the recent weeks, is that one of the ’Detroit spinners’ is now the president! My anus actually clenched slightly as a tapped that bit out, due to the fact that that could so easily be misconstrued as being racist. It is of course not racist, but Guardian readers would very much like it to be.
Why can’t a Caucasian person make a joke about someone who is of a different racial background to themselves, without being condemned as being a white sheet wearing, cross burning, ‘Jerry Springer show’ frequenting bigot? It is quite ludicrous. We all have to tip toe around each other, apologising for potentially being unintentionally a little bit racist, lets all relax about it, and not let the Guardian readers bully us into submission.
Anyway, he is not black at all is he. He is of mixed race. It’s funny how he is most definitely black now that he has won. If he had lost, he would probably have been of mixed race, and probably mostly white! Don’t get me wrong, I think he is definitely the best choice of the two candidates, and even cynical old me was becoming carried away on the sea of euphoria. It’s just a shame that even though he is now bordering on Messiah status, inevitably in a years time when nothing has changed, he will be deemed to be a wanker like all other politicians. Sad but true.
Thank God John McCain didn’t win. Not that I had anything against him or his policies particularly (barring Sarah Palin of course, Jesus she is frightening), no, but could the leader of the free world really be a man with arms that short? Did you see them? My God they were short. It was like he couldn’t be bothered with forearms, and just stuck his hands directly on to his elbows.
He didn’t help himself by keep flapping them about when he was speaking. I couldn’t take my eyes off them. I have know idea what he was talking about, as all I could think, was that he looked like an uncharismatic penguin in a suit, squawking and flapping away…….”Stand up, stand up and fight”…….fight, I thought to myself, you would be in trouble trying to land a right hook with such miniscule arms mate.
I did to some extent enjoy watching the coverage of the election, and the build up etc. It was a shining example of what seems to be the two extremes of America. Americans seem to fall into two distinct camps. Intelligent, quick witted, creative, productive etc etc on the one hand, and on the other, people who as Jeremy Clarkson put it, will insist on mating with vegetables!
Dear God there are some lonely brain cells rattling around in vast hanger like heads over that side of the pond aren’t there? I saw one bloke from way down in Dixieheadville, or where ever the bloody hell he came from, looking like something from the ‘Duke’s of Hazard’ Saying something like…….”Of course that Obama guy, he’s a socialist, in fact I think he is actually a communist.” He then spat a wad of chewing tobacco into an empty metal bucket, and went off to procreate with his sister, or a marrow if she....... “Had the decorators in”!
In the other camp, I witnessed some McCain fans standing in the street in a circle, hands raised to the heavens, proclaiming that “The good Lord will perform a miracle, and make McCain win.” Of course the miracle was not forthcoming. Even “The good Lord” knows a dead horse when he sees one.
Lets move on, what else caught my eye? Well a woman has divorced her husband, for having a virtual affair, in a virtual world. Yes a couple who spent far too much time in an internet game world called ’Second life’ have gone their separate ways, because she caught him “canoodeling” with a woman made of pixels, on a sofa made of pixels, in a pretend place…….yep, you guessed it, made of pixels! You just couldn’t make this stuff up. There was a picture of the couple in the paper, and boy did they look like you would expect them to! They didn’t disappoint. Not only did he look like the winner of ’Internet nerd 2008’, but I swear he was only six months away from fully fledged membership to the serial killers guild!
Things I am unwittingly paying for this week
Apart from owning most of the banks (But never seeing a penny for it) I am now paying for flip flops that I will never wear.
Yes some police force, I can’t remember where exactly, have decided that I should fork out for thousands of pairs of flip flops, for pissed up bints when they leave night clubs! Apparently when young ladies leave night clubs, they find it painful to walk home if they are wearing six inch heals. It might also have something to do with trying to balance on six inch heals after consuming an unwanted pregnancy inducing twenty-two bottles of ‘Smirnoff ice’ as well, but that seems to have been brushed over.
So ‘PC twat’ has decided that issuing them with a nice comfy pair of flip flops will make their life a lot easier. Why stop there, I don’t think it would be unreasonable to ask me to cough up for a doner kebab as well. As we all know, alcohol reduces blood sugar levels, and therefore tricks your body into thinking it’s hungry, so the doner kebab could therefore be classed as a medical requirement, and so in the interests of public safety, should be paid for by the public…….or ME again.
Fuck it, lets not mess about, lets not do a half hearted job, I tell you what ‘PC cock for a brain’, I’ll remortgage the house, and at great expense to myself will undertake driving lessons, and learn to drive a bus. I will then prostitute myself to be able to raise enough money (Why not ‘PC Wet lettuce’, you seem to be fucking me up the arse already anyway), to buy a big shiny double decker. I will then drive them all home personally, and even cook them a full English in the morning, I can’t say fairer than that can I?
One of the reasons for there being a month between blogs, is that my Victorian PC broke down. There is also the fact that I just couldn’t be arsed lately, but don’t tell anyone that. Yes my five year old computer finally whirred to a halt, and exuded a little puff of smoke as its terminal breath.
When Miss Marple and I wandered into ‘PC World’ all those moons ago, as well as getting the shiny new computer, we were persuaded/hoodwinked/forced/cajoled/ into taking out one of those supa dupa extended warranty things. You know, those bloody things that they try to push on you with everything these days. Pay seventeen quid for a toaster, and twenty-five for a five year warranty, madness. Anyway, for once it came good. Yes, three months before the warranty thing was up, it dies. The right way round for the first time in forty one years.
So off we go to take it back to ‘PC World’. Well as the fork lift truck that I had hired, slowly inched its way towards the doors, the sun was temporarily blocked out by the tower block sized behemoth that is my computer. Things have come along way in five years (apparently), and our arrival was met by shouts of “Where do you put the coal in Grandad”, and “The antiques roadshow is next door.” Ha bleedin’ ha.
So once we had got passed all the hilarity, pointing, nudging and smirking, the little man behind the counter took my ‘Stephenson’s Rocket’ of a PC, and hid it out of view.
Miss Marple and myself decided to have a look round the shop, in case I ever decided to “Upgrade”. After a little browsing, I came to the worrying discovery that none of the computers had an ordinary phone port thing for the internet, just the broadband sized ones. As we are the only house left in the world that cannot get broadband, this was starting to concern me. So I caught the eye of a girl with a ‘PC World’ badge on, and asked her if they still made computers with the old fashioned internet port things on.
She looked at me as if I had asked her where I could purchase some leeches, to try to sort out a bout of herpes, and said “No, it’s all broadband these days.” I explained that we couldn’t get broadband, to which she replied, “My God, where do you live then?” I was tempted to say, “half way up a mountain in the brecon beacons,” when I remembered that Miss Marple has an uncle that does live half way up a mountain in the brecon beacons, and he can get bloody broadband! So I didn’t bother.
We live about eight miles from a city, and the same from a large town, and yet we still can’t get bloody broadband. In fact we can’t get anything. Freeview, mobile broadband, a phone signal, mains sewerage, electricity! I’m thinking of saying to hell with it, and becoming Amish. Bollocks, sell the car, and get a horse and cart, a goatee beard, straw hat, and waistcoat. There are worse looks, my present one in fact. Five foot eight, and rocketing towards fifteen stone. Even Gok Wan would have his work cut out. Perhaps he could do a one off Christmas special just for me…….’How to make people recoil with repulsion when naked’.
Oh well I had better go and blog some more blogs, before Anvilman beats me up (Private joke), so I will annoy you all again soon.
Peace and love, and easy on the mince pies.
Ps. Just before I go, a few quickies…….
Word of the week.
I read this in a magazine, I am assuming it is an amalgamation of “Fuckwit,” and “Retard.” Hence…….”Fucktard.” I like it, and will be trying to shoehorn this little gem into as many sentences as I can in the coming weeks!
Favourite unintentional (I think!) segway from one sentence to another of the week
I heard this one this morning on the BBC breakfast program. Cliff Richard has said that he will be taking his secrets to the grave with him (soon hopefully!) including the main attraction, namely his sexuality. This was followed by the next item which was started by the word “HOMEOWNERS”…….think about it. Perhaps only purile minds like mine will get that.
And lastly…….
Favourite overestimation of the power of a game show moment of the week.
I was watching ‘Golden balls’ (They really needn’t bother with the first fifty-five minutes of the show need they) the other day, and heard a brilliant example of blind optimism. The last two contestants had done all the “I promise I am going to split”, and “Don’t let me down, we have been on such a long journey together!” crap as usual, when it finally came to the crunch. Both swore to split, and Jasper couldn’t drag it out any longer.
He did the 3-2-1 countdown, and low and behold, they both split. For their rare honesty, they both received the princely some of one hundred and seventeen pounds or something, and went away smiling. Then they went to the bit right at the end, where as the credits are rolling up, they say what they think of each other, and the decisions they made. Well the bloke said something like…….”When Amanda revealed her ‘split’ ball, my faith in human nature was restored, and from that moment on, I knew everything was going to be alright with the world!!!” .................Fuck me!
Biff baff boff. X
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