Phones4u

My 12 months contract was up on my cellphone this weekend, so I headed into town first thing on Saturday, armed with utility bills, bank statements, DNA sample etc in order to get a spanking new phone and sign my life away for another 12 months. I went to the same shop that I initially got my deal through, and upgraded my phone last year. I knew the process was going to be a painful one, but knowing that I was going to get a new phone, was quite happy to sit through a bit of sales speak. They make you fill out this form where you put down your current contract, your usage, where you went on holiday, what your job is (I always lie, just to screw them up. This year my holiday was aboard a turbot fishing boat in Antartica, and I am currently employed as a beautician). They tell you they ask these questions to offer you a contract that suits your needs, but we all know it is so they can sell off the details to direct marketing companies.

I was happy with my O2 contract. £25 a month for 100 minutes and 200 texts. In the 12 months I have had this tariff, I have never once gone over my allocated texts or minutes. Anyway, the spotty youth comes back with this latest super duper Orange tariff. £35 a month, 500 texts, 500 minutes, plus the phone I want for only £50. 'Hang on spotty youth' I say 'I have just told you that I am happy with O2, I never use 100 minutes, nor 200 texts. Now you are changing network, increasing what is already too much, and charging me an extra tenner a month, plus I have to pay for the new phone'. Is it just me, or does anyone else think that this guy hasn't listened to a word I said and is trying to rip me off. Sensing that I was getting a little snippy, the young man decides to head out the back to discuss this with his manager (read; have a fag and revert to plan B as the fat bloke at his desk isn't as dumb as first suspected).

He comes back with a big grin on his face. 'Because you are a valued customer, we can offer you the same contract but we'll give you the phone for free'. I explained to him the fundamental issues with the offer. Firstly, I am happy with O2, the contract, the cost etc. All I want is a new phone, I am willing to sign up for another 12 months, just give me the goddamn phone. He then tells me that O2 are notoriously bad at upgrades, and I should consider another network 'This Orange deal is the best you will get'. I just thanked the young lad and walked out of the store, after I called him a bullshitter working for a bullshit shop. Come on, I was under stress, I couldn't think of anything witty to say.

I know you can get better deals online, so when I got home I checked a few out, decided on one (away from O2, if they are going to get arsey about upgrades, then they can shove my business) and proceeded to go through with the order. In order to keep my number, I had to get a code from O2 to release my number, so I ring the helpline and get put through to an operator, ask him for the code which he tells me. He then asks if I wouldn't mind telling him why I would like to leave the network, and I explain (leaving out the swear words). He then tells me that I am due an upgrade and they can offer the phone I want, with the same number, same price as before etc. I tell him what happened at the shop and he says I should come to the network directly as the shops are full of it and will cheat and lie to get you to go onto another network. He also said that what Phones4u said about O2 is a lie and could I give him my permission to log the conversation so they can follow it up. Naturally I said yes, gave him the address of the shop and the name of the youth. I hope something comes of it, as I hate being taken for a ride.

Let this be a lesson to us all, speak to the organ grinder, not the monkey. Phones4u are scum and they lie.

Scabby feet cover up

Flip-flops are sooooo yesterday. A pathetic showing of only one pair today. The in thing now is shorts and trainers, with hidden socks. Things are improving.

Left of the Dial

I downloaded this album about a week ago at home and have been trying to yousendit.com to myself at work. Every day I get into the office to see if the confirmation email has arrived, but no luck. I get home only to see that the web connection has disconnected, or the puter crashed, or the wife was looking for something and closed the browser. I've tried about 8 times to get this thing to the office. Finally this morning, it has arrived. So I download it, took about 2 hours. I started listening to it and thought it sounded a bit familiar. I've just looked in my music folder and I already have the feckin' thing here. What a prat.

Baby scans

The wife is going in for her second scan tomorrow. I'm prepared for it this time, but the first really freaked me out. It looked like the Aphex Twin's Rubber Johnny. I never realised that ultra-sound scans were video, I thought they just did an x-ray or something. To see the little bugger wriggling about was a bit of a shock. I think I upset the wife/nurse when I asked if all babies were so ugly. 'That's your child', coupled with two Paddington hard stares. Oh well, as long as it gets hair and loses the enlarged head I'll be happy.

Hangovers and biking

I have a bit of a hangover today. An old friend from 'back home' and 'way back when' (as the Cosa Nostra would say) was in town so he popped over for a beer and a curry. It was gone midnight before I got to bed which is unusual for me on a schoolnight. I was dreading waking up, and more specifically riding the bike. I had to fill up with petrol and the new guy at the garage (obviously got a bit more confidence now as his name tag was the right way round) started a conversation with me about fuel consumption. It was then that I realised that I had a hangover as I had lost the power of coherent speech. I'm sure he thinks that I have some sort of disability now and will say to his colleagues every time I go in 'You know it's so good that they let retarded people use their own transport'.

The journey was a bit odd, I rode like a crazed man. I managed to overtake a police car on the motorway at about 90mph and only realised when I looked in my mirrors and saw him fade into the distance. He was good about it though, maybe he couldn't find the 'turn on blue light' button. Perhaps in my state my senses were heightened as I noticed that the 3 speed cameras on the stretch between the M3 and Richmond had been turned around to face the other direction. I wonder when they did this, and how many times I have ridden past them. I suspect if this is not something that happened last night, I might receive a few tickets in the post. Oh well. Someone has buggered around with the timings on the lights by Harrods and there are big queues there now. I just chucked the bike into the bus lane and undertook everyone. Out my way, I've got a hangover. I was overtaken by two scooters with roofs. I mean, a scooter is bad enough, but one with a roof? How naff is that. Christ man, it's only a bit of rain, it won't make your body disolve. Then I got held up in Soho by two vans that whose drivers were having an argument. As I was sorting out myself after parking, a man approached me and asked if I knew where Winsley Street was. I had never heard of it, and having regained speech, gave this fella the bad news. As I was about to head off to the office I noticed that we were actually standing on Winsley Street, and I have been parking there nearly every working day for 18 months. This guy must think I am a real idiot.

So I'm in the office and am slowly rehydrating but dreading the day ahead as I think this is a stealth hangover and will start to hurt soon.

Another thought for another day

How can a man hold his new born son in his arms, look deep into his wife's eyes and say 'We will name him Slobodan'?

Da Vinci Code

I watched the Da Vinci Code last night. I really enjoyed the book as I have been reading a lot in that genre over the last few years, albeit the non-fiction versions. Books like The Hiram Key, Holy Blood, Holy Grail, Fingerprints Of The Gods, Sign and the Seal and The Sirius Mystery. So I consider myself well versed in all the theories that are mentioned in the Da Vinci Code. It was nice to read a story tying it all together as well, as the non-fiction stuff can get a bit heavy. The book wasn't that well written, and if I didn't have such an interest in the topic, probably would have given up halfway through. But I enjoyed it nonetheless. I was pretty excited about the propsect of the film, until I heard that Tom Hanks was in it. Ok, he's a good actor, I'm sure it will be fine.

My God, what a waste of celluloid. One thing that worried me about filming the book, was how they would handle all the lectures that happen throughout. This was cleverly done in the film by Audrey saying 'I.Don't.Understand' everytime some theory was introduced. Cue a Tom soliloquy and a lot of transluscent footage of Crusaders trashing villages.

It seems that whenever a film requires a camp old English gent these days, they call upon Ian McKellen, who minced his way half pace throughout. The electricity between Tom and Audrey had about as much spark as a flat battery. Jean Reno and Paul Bettany were ever reliable though and I suspect the only two in the film that took it seriously.

A complete waste of time and has ruined the enjoyment I got from the book now.

Thought for the day

a) Chivalry
b) Equality

Ladies, choose ONE of the above

I was a genius for a day

When I was at school I was often called into the headmaster's office and given a stern talking to about my marks. I was called an underachiever as apparently I had a very high IQ and should have been performing much better. I managed to scrape through school and have to be honest, have continued that trend until the present. I have never considered myself particularly intelligent and I think this reflects in my status.

I had dinner with an old school friend recently, and she reminded me of a particular day at school. We were both called down to the library where we were told that there would be no lessons for us that day, and, together with 4 other students from the school will be writing some tests. Succeeding in these tests would mean getting an offer to attend a school for the gifted.

I have to be honest, I thought they had made a mistake with me as I was barely scraping through school and the other 5 in the room were all academics with A averages. I didn't want to leave my school anyway so I didn't take the tests seriously and made sure I buggered up some of the easier questions. Needless to say, I wasn't offered a position in the propellerhead school. My mum was gutted, but still bought me a goldfish for being 'a clever boy'.

Anyway, after speaking to my friend, a good 20 years after that day, I started wondering. I never did find out what my IQ was. What if I was truly gifted, and all these years I could have been earning millions as a rocket scientist? So I decided to find out.

What better way than to try and get into Mensa. So I applied for their home test which I received, completed (rather easilly) and sent off, together with a cheque for £9.95 for 'admin fees'. A couple of days later I get a letter back from them saying that I am a 'strong candidate' for acceptance, and reading on, am in the top 1% in the country with an IQ of 155. 155, that's good right?

A bit of googling later it would appear that an IQ of 155 is pretty much off the scale, a 'genius'. We are talking Phd stuff, doctors, professors, nobel prize winners. Old Bert Einstein only had an IQ of 160 for goodness sake. Now you can imagine I started to feel a little better with life, and wondering what I should do with my future, what university courses I should do (astrophysics perhaps, and maybe philosophy, as a sideline) and so on. WHEN I get accepted by Mensa, I could meet all these influential people that could give me opportunities I could have only dreamed of.

Then I found this. A scenario of a balloon and a javelin springs to mind.

So I am what I always thought I was, just a regular guy who tries to get through life without breaking too much of a sweat. Still, it was nice to feel like a genius for a day.

The kids today

I was stuck on Chiswick Bridge on the way home the other night. Scorching hot early evening, cars blocking every possible filter so I just gave up and had a bit of a rest. As I was waiting, these two girls walked past. They couldn't have been older than 14. Both had taken off their t-shirts and were walking down the A316 in shorts and bras. Of course vans were tooting, heads were turning, some people were saying things to them as they were walking and giggling and chatting. Now I think most people in this country are like me, good decent folk that would ask these girls 'what are you thinking?'. Unfortunately there are other people that would see this display as an opportunity. For the rest of the journey all I could think about was what if something happened to these girls, I'd hate to read about it on the BBC that a couple of schoolgirls had gone missing in Chiswick, bodies found in Richmond Park etc.

Now in an ideal world, girls could do this and everyone would be jolly, but it isn't an ideal world and there are some sick puppies out there. I'm sure these two were acting perfectly innocently. They were hot and were seeking some attention, but I wonder if they considered the consequences if they attracted attention from the wrong sort of person. I seriously doubt it. But then children today don't consider the consequences of their actions, because generally there are no consequences. You can blame schools that don't discipline children anymore. You can blame parents that aren't at home often enough to punish their children when they have done something wrong. Life has a way of teaching people lessons, I just think that today's children aren't prepared and when they hit life full on, it comes as a bit of a shock. Often that lesson can be extreme.

In my upbringing, there was a line. If I crossed that line there was a reaction. I learnt very early where that line was, and what would happen if I visited the other side of it. I like to think that because I was disciplined at school, and my parents disciplined me at home, that I am a well rounded individual who knows right from wrong and respects those who deserve it. Maybe I sound like an old fart, but with a little one on the way, I am certainly going to try and bring him/her up the way my parents did me.

I hope these two girls were spotted by their parents, bundled into the car and given a bollocking.

Lyrics/HMHB/Personalised Reg plates

I have just listened to Half Man Half Biscuit's 'Paradise Lost (You're The Reason Why)' and it's reminded me of something I've been meaning to make a note of. Personalised reg plates, I mean, what are they all about. Now in the States and South Africa for instance, you can get any word on your car. My mate in SA has GERRY and his wife YVONNE on their cars (they are named Gerry and Yvonne in case you were wondering). Kinda cool, maybe a little cheesey but so be it. My dad wanted to get F-IN-L but they rumbled him.

In the UK, you can't do that. All registration plates are computer generated, so you have to find a combination of letters and numbers from an existing reg plate that look like words. Sure there are some good ones out there, who can fault the guy who has T1 TS or something like that, and the mayor of Coventry drives around in a RR with COV1. (I secretly want to get COV2 and put it on a Robin Reliant).

Now these guys escape my scorn, it's the people that spend £2000 on
FPH 567 that get me. It might be your initials, but hey, DILIGAF? I saw one this morning, G1OFF. Ok, I assume this guy's name is Geoff, and maybe he has dyslexia, but a number plate like that is really, really pathetic. Worst still, I saw a 7 series beamer with BWM 1 on it. You know guys, this is a bit like getting the new England strip before it comes out in the shops, but your version has the badge painted on and is made in Paraguay. You might think you are cool, but we all know you are a fake and, dare I say, a bit of a knobski.

Anyway, in honour of those BWM1 and G1OFF's out there the Biccies sum it up for me:
Well we've all seen your personalised reg plates
And it's not the worst crime I agree
But we both know full well, that it really should spell
T-W-A-T O-N-E

The Dude abides

I had the pleasure of watching a truly brilliant movie on Friday, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang with Bob Downey Jnr and Val Kilmer. Excellent film, great acting, script was quickfire and hilarious. My type of film, I urge thee to watch it.

After that went all retro and watched The Big Lebowski (which never fails to amuse) and the first of 4 disks of G.B.H. The latter is as good as I remember it but I'm appreciating it a bit more now being like, all adult and shit. I didn't realise it was based on the MP Derek Hatton. It's a bit like that film with John Travolta, Primary Colo(u)rs which was loosely based on Bill Clinton. Can't wait for the next 3 disks now.

Ghost Town/happy weekends

It was a little disconcerting coming in this morning as the roads were so clear. I left normal time. Filled up with petrol (prices going up and up) in the normal place, got held up because there was a new guy at the petrol station who couldn't speak English, couldn't work the till, had his name badge upside down, didn't know what to do with my debit card etc. But I still managed to get to work in about 50 minutes, which ain't bad for a journey of 35 miles, 7 of which is through Hammersmith, Kensington and central London. It only dawned on me later that it's because it's school holidays. I wish it was school holidays all year round, would make my life a lot easier. Kids don't need to go to school anyway, they can learn everything they need by watching Teletubbies and Eastenders. If they didn't go to school they wouldn't develop crack habits by the age of 11 either. I think I might petition my local MP about this one.

So it's Monday again and I'm knackered. I think I might add my proposal of a three day weekend in that letter to the MP (must find out who it is, or what colour flag he/she is flying). I had a fairly busy weekend, doing stuff that I used to take the piss out of my dad for doing. We have a huge hedge out the front of our house that has never been cut since before the house was built. I got these industrial sized clipper things from a DIY shop and started hacking away. I was spared briefly by a heavy downpour but the missus made me go out and finish the job pretty much the same time as the last drop had fallen. I was quite proud of myself as I managed to turn the hedge from a relative forest into a few twigs. Trouble was I ended up with a driveway of hedge stuff. Cue another trip to the DIY store to get a garden shredder which is now my favourite toy. I felt a bit like Peter Stormare in Fargo when I was using it.

Other weekend highlights:
- NZ beat SA in the rugby, boring game mind, but the result cheered me up a little
- I did some sealing around the bath (the wife wouldn't use it as the spiders would launch random attacks on her through the gap on the side). The bath is now sealed and I am covered in white chewing gum.
- I got bitten by a mosquito under my chin and now look like a fat elephant man.
- Found a program that turns digital images into a DVD slideshow, played with it for 3 hours creating a beautiful montage of holiday snaps only to find that the trial version only allows you to save 36 images on one DVD. Must add 'shareware' to my shitlist
- At 2:30 am on Sunday, a couple had a fight outside our bedroom window. We were about to phone the police but some guy from down the road came out to stop it. He managed to calm the situation down, and him and the other fella went off for a walk. 20 minutes later we heard them fighting further down the road. Serves me right for buying a house in scumsville I suppose.

Butterfly effect

Well, not really, but I am beginning to suspect that sometimes if I think of something, it will happen. I remember years ago I was talking about footballer's haircuts and I mentioned Kevin Keegan. I got onto talking about KK and the fact that it was years since I heard of him. I swear that the following day there was a news story about him (he got beaten up whilst sleeping in his car or something). Then a little while after that, he became manager of Newcastle. Sorry you got beaten up Kev, but it was because of me talking about you that you got the NUFC job.

Anyway, I joined this DVD online rental thing a little while ago. I was searching for some stuff and had exhausted my list of things-I-would-really-like-to-see-now, and started compiling a list of things-I've-seen-before-but-would-love-to-see-again. I thought of a TV series I saw years ago, starring that guy frm My Family. A bit of googling later, discovered that he is of course Robert Lindsay. A bit more clicking and the series in question was called GBH. I tried to find it on the DVD club site, but they didn't have it. I looked everywhere but it hadn't been released on DVD and is no longer available on video. Bugger. Lo and behold, about 2 days later, I was scanning the channels and what should pop up on the listings? You got it. I did a search yesterday on the new releases section of the DVD club and as if by magic, there it was. It's bloody freaky, I hadn't thought of that series for at least 10 years and then a few days later it's back in my life.

I think I am some sort of link to the subconcious world. Now think hard about winning the lottery...

More office a-holes

I just seen someone on his way to the toilet with a newspaper under his arm. Jesus mate, we all have to go for a shit on occasion, we know it's always best to shit on company time, but please don't be so open about the idea. Having a dump is one of life's private joys. Why not just shit in the dustbin next to your desk and get it out in the open.

The whistler is back. He's going to get my fist in his tits if he's not careful.

People that have meetings around desks, specifically mine. Meeting rooms; the clue is in the name. My desk is my personal space and if you come within a metre of it you automatically put me on edge and I will get agitated and eventually agressive. Multiply the agitation and agression by 8 if this meeting does not include me.

The whistler has developed into plural now. There may be multiple fatalities today.

Meetings bring out the worst in people, they;

- talk louder than is socially accepted without the aid of alcohol
- wave arms about a lot
- bang on tables even more
- when talking about something that invloves multiple aspects, point at the table like they are indentifying 3 apples that they want to purchase at a fruit stall
- do that thing with their arms like they are catching something really heavy
- if they are in possession of a clicky pen, will click it repeatedly whilst waiting to butt in
- when making a major point, or after saying something controversial, will slump back in their chair. This is the human action equivalent of an exclamation mark.

And onto the good stuff

What makes a good lyric(s). Well to me a catchy rhyme can only help. I don't think they have to be clever, just work well. In Donnie Darko, Drew Barrymore's character says that the most beautiful combination of words in the world are 'cellar door'. Well not to me, but what I mean is that some words just work well together.

I love The Clash and some of their lyrics just make brilliant songs even brillianter. 'Death Or Glory' for instance:

Every cheap hood strikes a bargain with the world
and ends up making payments on a sofa or a girl
Love and hate tattooed across the knuckles of his hands
Hands that slap his kids around 'cause they don't understand...

I saw a great advert on boreme.com for some poofter drink called Quinn's. It's all very Disney-like with some catchy toon, but some snappy lyrics:

I don't know but I've been told there's a fever on the mire
There's not a lot of self control there's dicord in the choir

Pure poetry. One that's always stuck with me, a little soppy but lovely stuff from The Psychedelic Furs' 'Pretty In Pink':

Caroline talks to you softly sometimes
she says I love you and too much
She doesn't have anything you'd want to steal
...well... nothing you can touch

(must admit I am not a big fan of using names in songs, but I'll let this one go).

Half Man Half Biscuit could should have a blog on their own, but here's a sample from 'We Built This Village On A Trad.Arr Tune' - the title in itself is genius:

It's a cricketing farce with a thickening plot
Act 1: Scene 1, Brenda Blethyn gets shot

And from 'I Love You Because You Look Like Jim Reeves':

Sold my soul for an Artic Roll
Went to hell on a red skidoo
Did the Shake'n'Vac and broke me F***in' back
and now my library books are 9 weeks overdue

The whole of The Decemberists 'A Cautionary Tale' is marvellous, but:

And they tell her not to say a thing
To cousin, kindred, kith or kin or she'll end up dead
And they throw her thirty dollars and return her to the habour
Where she goes to bed, and this is how you're fed

Got to do some work now but will certainly be adding to this one.

More shit lyrics

I've planted the seed now! What makes lyrics shit? Well I am not one to diss other people's art, it's all a matter of opinion, but there are some which make you wonder 'why?!'. I should set myself some ground rules before I slag off everyone. Firstly, I am not bothered about quirky stuff, or just general lazy lyrics. I'd put The Cult's 'She Sells Sacntuary' in this category:

The heads that turn, make my back burn
Oh the heads that turn, make my back, make my back burn, yeah

I mean, that's just nonsense and a classic example of someone writing a good tune and then slapping in some words. Fair play to 'em, it's a good song.

Nor am I concerned about lyrics in a song that are tongue in cheek or throwaway. It's the songwriters that take themselves very seriously, you can almost imagine them quoting their lyrics like poetry at arty parties and expecting adoration. I can't help but put Weller's lyrics for The Jam in this category. I love The Jam, but he just tries too damn hard.

To be honest I haven't done much research into this so the list isn't going to start today, but I just wanted to jot down some thoughts.

Not just lyrics annoy me. Daft samples or noises that people put into songs really gets my back up. For instance Kylie Minogue's 'Give Me Just A Little More Time' (I associate the song to her because she sang it, I very much doubt that she had anything to do with the writing of it). What's this Brrrrrrrrrrrr bit going on?

Give me just a little more time
And our love will surely grow. Brrrrrrrrrrrr

Maybe they couldn't afford a whistle or something. Very annoying though.

Stuttering is also one of my bug bares. Pay attention The Who and Bachman-Turner Overdrive. Does stuttering make the song any better? I think not. I used to be in a band in me youth and we thought of covering 'You Ain't Seen Nothing Yet' but we had to drop it because the singer insisted on doing the stuttering shit. I just couldn't take it seriously. I have no idea why 'You Ain't Seen Nothing Yet' and 'My Generation' needed all the stuttering. I suspect when The Who were writing theirs, the Why don't you all f-f-f-f-fade away bit was supposed to be risque and tongue in cheek, but they just got carried away. I have no idea why BTO needed some stutter action. Of course both these are good songs, just ruin it for me for the unwanted addition.

This post will run and run, I'm going to make a concerted effort to weed out the bad lyricists out there. (By nature though, 'a concerted effort' cannot be achieved by an individual, so if there is anyone out there - apart from people that link to poker sites - your contributions will be most appreciated.

Of course there are good lyrics as well, which will be posted seperately when I can think of some.

Embryo of a rant

I was on the Transport For London website last night, and took a screengrab of the tube running. This is the embryo of a rant that has been building for some time.

Shit lyrics

I listened to Peter Gabriel's 'Games Without Frontiers' earlier today. You know I've never actually listened to the lyrics, I always thought he sang 'She's so obvious', but I believe it's 'Jeux sans frontiers'. Well there you go. Anyway, I couldn't believe I had never noticed how shit the lyrics were. Cop a load of this:

Hans plays with Lotte, Lotte plays with Jane
Jane plays with Willi, Willi is happy again
Suki plays with Leo, Sacha plays with Britt
Adolf builts a bonfire, Enrico plays with it

Where on earth did he get those names from, am I missing something? Now they have got to be the worst lyrics since, oooo, Peter Sarstedt's 'Where Do You Go To My Lovely':

Your name, it is heard in high places
You know the Aga Khan
He sent you a racehorse for Christmas
And you keep it just for fun, for a laugh, a-ha-ha-ha

... especially the a-ha-ha-ha bit. What was he thinking, the silly man.

I think this is going to be a regular feature on this blog as now I'm going to examine everyone's lyrics and name & shame.

Movies

I saw a really strange film last night, Thumbsucker. I buy the movie magazines every month and the two I buy gave it quite a good write up, and it sounded very interesting. Can't say I thought it was particualarly interesting though, just another run-of-the-mill quirky teenage drama about growing up and troubles of youth blah blah blah. For this genre, you can't get better than Donnie Darko, although it wasn't trying to be weird like DD was. It reminded me a bit of The Secret Lives Of Dentists, which is 2 hours of my life I'll never get back. Man, that was one boring lousy film.

I'm not having much luck with film choices, I saw another (very weird) one called Innocence. Some French film about a junior girl's school where new students turn up in coffins. It was all pretty baffling and couldn't quite work out what it was all about. I suspect there was lots of hidden meaning and symbolism which missed me. There was a lot of child nudity in it as well which I thought was a bit disturbing, and I can see the paedo's lining up to rent this one.

Another really strange one I saw, which I have been meaning to for ages, was Irreversible with Vincent Cassel and Monica Belluci. Really powerful, very shocking. I thought the two main scenes were stunning, the violence in the club (Club Rectum!) and the rape scene. Horrible to watch, but you have to say brilliant acting and bold film making. I have to admit I did skip through the rape scene though, I'm not really into watch some woman getting done for 9 minutes. Trouble is, the film really tailed off after that. It was shot in reverse, like Memento, but the last hour was pretty dull, showing the charcters and build up to the two scenes mentioned earlier. Memento was great, because the story became clearer the longer the film went on and there was a real whammy at the end. With Irreversible, the whammy was at the beginning and the last (first) half of the film was irrelevant.

Finally, saw a beautiful one called Italian For Beginners. It's a Danish Dogme 95 film and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I'm not really into art-farty stuff, but this one really struck a chord. It's basically a love story (which generally I hate) but was quite barbed. Happy ending mind which made me all warm inside. Good performances, nice story, I recommend and will certainly re-watch.

Hot Hot Heat

It's been crazy hot in the UK this week, we're talking mid-thirties every day. I think there might be something to this global warming nonesense. Thankfully the office air-con has decided to work at long last so at least there is some relief when indoors. Whoever thinks that English weather is bad has obviously never spent more than a few days here. Summers are generally very hot now, with temperatures in the early and mid thirties pretty common. Winters are normally mild compared to a lot of places and there is rarely a frost, and snow is extremely unlikely. It's actually a decent place to live (for the weather).

Unlike a lot of places, we definitely do get 4 seasons. Some are longer than others, but at least you know December will be cold, July will be hot etc. What I do miss is extreme weather though. I love snow, frost, fog, baking heat, violent thunderstorms and lightning (the only thing I don't really like is high winds). Unfortunately, we get none of this in England. I can't remember the last time I saw a thunderstorm or heavy snow.

I really miss South Africa for the thunderstorms, you could set your watch by them in the summer. Around lunchtime the fluffly clouds would build up on the horizon and over time would get darker and darker. When the heavens opened the storm would be so violent, heavy rain, lightning, hail. Saw some storms that dumped down golf balls to. I used to live in the place in the north of Johannesburg that was built amongst the rocky side of a mountain. The rocks must have had a high metal content as the lightning would surround you during an electrical storm. Summers were great in Joburg, although the winters were awful. 20° during the day, and plummits to about -3° every night. Most unplesant. The winter lasts from about April to August, without a drop if rain or nary a cloud from about March to September. I can honestly say the coldest I have ever been was in 1996 when I first moved up to Joburg. Even living in the UK for years didn't prepare me for that winter.

Clouding over today mind, we might just get that storm, I just hope I'm indoors when it happens.

Happy Wednesdays

The roads were surprisingly free going home last night, which is really unusal for a Wednesday. I managed to get home in about an hour, which must be close to a record. Very strange indeed. Apart from the heat and sweating like a sumo, it was a very pleasant journey.

This morning I was tearing around a corner in Soho and had to slam on anchors as there were a load of horses trotting down the middle of the road. It looked like the mounties were taking the nags out for a stroll, in central London, peak hour. Great planning. The last thing you expect to see in central London is 30 horse arses. I think I have horse shit in the tread of my tyres now.

One other thing noted, traffic seems to get held up by rubbish trucks every morning and every night now. It's annoying, because at home the bastards always wake me up, and I often miss putting out my rubbish because they come so early. In London, they only seem to operate during peak hours.

London traffic

More mayhem on the way home last night. As with Friday, the A4 was backed up to the tunnel by Harrods. Luckily this time the traffic was moving so at least there were constantly gaps being created that I could filter through. I've got a thermometer on the bike (I wish they had taken the time to make the engine better than faff about with thermos. But there you go) and at one point it got to 45°C. Nice. Anyway, crawled all the way to the Hammersmith Flyover, and there was a broken down truck on the inside lane that was causing the queue. Unbelievable. I thought of two things:
1 - Why do these breakdowns/blockages always happen a few miles into the journey and not at the start?
2 - There wasn't a police car nor recovery van in sight. The truck must have been there for over an hour.

Rereading all my whines about the traffic, I think I might flog the bike and try public transport again. At least I might develop a social life that way. Nice thing about the bike though, I always get a seat.

Last.fm

A great site as it is, I thought that this was a grand idea. They dynamically create an image of your music behaviour. Thought I would experiment and see if it works.

Recent tracks:


Weekly artists


Cool!

Cricket/Flip flop index

Well the cricket looks like it will be ending in a draw today. England didn't do a particularly good job of bowling and after posting a very large total of 528/9 declared (with 3 centurions) they had trouble getting wickets after the first session with Pakistan eventually being bowled out for 445. Currently, with one day to go, we are 258/7 with a lead of 341. I suspect we will give it a bit of welly this morning, and try and get 30 or 40 more on the board and have an hour at Pakistan before lunch. 360 should be a big enough total to defend, but I can't see us bowling them out in 2 ^1/2 sessions. It took us 119 overs to eventually dismiss them and have taken 77 overs to get to 258, so not enough time I don't think. Unless something extraordinary happens, a draw is going to be the outcome. Bluesq have a draw at 1/5, and they are never wrong.

The Flip-flop index is doing well in the office today. I only have to turn my head 15° in either direction to spot 8 scabby feet. And what's the deal with the long shorts/short longs business?

Closures

I had great fun getting home on Friday. It was a lovely warm day, I tailed off badly during the afternoon so thought I would head home nice and early to catch some sun and maybe a beer or two.

Things started out really well, and I sailed through the first mile of the journey. Normally this bit is a pretty hectic and the first 1.1 miles can take up to 20 minutes, but Friday only took about 5 minutes. The smell of beer was closing in! But as soon as I hit the tunnel before Kensington the cars were already queuing. Sometimes this happens as there is a bit of a bottleneck by Harrods. But it wasn't clearing.

I spent the next hour trying to fight my way through the traffic which is particularly difficult on that stretch as the road is too narrow to filter, and the central reservation is concrete curbing and fenced most of the way. Cars everywhere, bikes everywhere, sun scorching down, engine overheating, tempers worsening, driving deteriorating. It was a real nightmare.

Eventually, after some inventive riding I made it to the turn off by Hammersmith Flyover, only to find that the hold up was because the police had shut it. I've never been home any other way that that before, so I had to find an alternative route through Hammersmith. I used the logic that if the sun was in my eyes, I would be going in the correct direction. Luckilly I managed to get back on the A4 the other side of the flyover. How I don't know but at least I ended up back on the right road. Very hot, tired and frustrated. Thankfully the closure had made the traffic thin on the other side of it, so the rest of the journey was a pleasure.

The trouble with London, as soon as there is an accident, traffic light out of order or whatever, it's a nightmare getting through. I really feel sorry for the cars that get stuck. It took me 45 minutes extra to get through the carnage, but I can't imagine how long it would have taken the cars. I've noticed that as soon as there is an accident, the police tend to shut down the entire road. Whereas before they would shut down the lane and try and filter the traffic through, now they just block access. As mentioned before, I really need to find different routes as I really don't want to have to do that again.

As if all that wasn't bad enough, I got blocked in by a car for about 10 minutes who was playing that 'Woo hoo, woo hoo woo hoo hoo. Woo hoo ad nauseam' song at full belt. Guess what I was singing all the way home? And then the icing on the cake, my drinking buddy cancelled (after 2 hours of waiting for him to call) so I didn't even get a beer in.

Biker wars update

I worked out that on average, I spend 1/5 th of my waking hours aboard my bike, hence the amount of posts about it. That said...

I actually got a little nervous when getting back to the parking bay last night. I was expecting that a recently fined scooter boy would have wrecked my bike. Luckilly it was in one piece. I need to see someone about this paranoia.

I sang 'Mariner's Revenge Song' by The Decemberists all the way in this morning, a jolly old tune which kept my spirits up. It seems that the Richmond council have been messing around with the traffic light timings again as there were queues in places that are normally clear, and vice versa. They seem to do this every few months for some reason.

I had a stone in my boot the whole way in which was troubling me, but when I got my boot off I discovered it was a whole peppercorn. I wonder how that got there?

Cricket update

Not a bad first day for England, finishing off at 309/3 with Collingwood 109* and Cook 101*. The latter rode his luck mind, being dropped on 0 and the Pakistani's missing a couple or three other opportunities to get him out. Good batting by the pair of them, they came together at 88/3 and have now put on 221. Let's hope they can keep going and put on another 80 or so runs this morning. If I was a betting man, I would saythat we will get bowled out for less than 400 though, as we never seem to capitalise on a good start. Still, jolly good show chaps, splendid work.

Dick's in the office

Thought of a couple more that wind me up; office flirts. Now not the general day to day flirting which should be actively encouraged, I'm talking about the guy (again, always men) that so clearly fancy the pants of the receptionist/secretary that they might as well get a t-shirt printed with their names inside a big pink heart. The type that says things like 'Well don't say hello then' when she walks past, or 'two sugars please' every time she is in the kitchen, followed by 10 minutes of inane grinning and no doubt imagining what it would be like to take said receptionist/secretary on a date, some light supper then who knows? This man will walk up to her desk and start a very banale conversation at frighteningly frequent intervals, and do a lot of unnecessary printing and faxing. This normally results in lots of eye rolling from the victim, and lots of half-laughs because she can never work out whether he has cracked a joke or not. Potential hunters can be spotted quite easily, they wear designer clothes, probably have a bowl of fruit on their (always tidy) desks and are usually short and not very popular. An early warning sign is they always respond to all staff emails.

You have no chance son, she fancies the guy in the mail room and wouldn't piss on you if you set yourself alight. You are making a tit of yourself, please stop.

Another one; who the hell deemed it acceptable for men to wear flip-flops at work? It's bad enough that they turn up in shorts during the summer, having to see their hairy, spindly, transparent toothpicks is just not on. Now we are all treated to grubby feet with gnarled toenails, corns, blister scars etc. Buy some socks and get a pair of trainers for Christ sake, this isn't Bondi Beach. My only hope is that they get their toes caught in the escalators at Oxford Circus, that'll learn 'em. Next year I half expect some fellas to be wearing their t-shirts around their waists.

And if that bastard doesn't stop clipping his fingernails every few days I'm going to insert the clipper in his eye.

Cricket

It's the first test between England and Pakistan today and I'm not too hopeful of a favourable outcome.

We are missing some key players agains, most notable Andrew Flintoff (please dear God, will people stop calling him 'Freddie') and Vaughan, and long term absentee Simon Jones. Pietersen is fit, and Hoggard has been selected but as he was a doubt for this match, I half expect him to break down 4 balls into his opening over. The rest of the bowling attack looks very weak with Mahmood and Plunkett supporting Harmison and Hoggard. I think this time round we really need to bat as long as we can and it's about time the senior batsmen in the team give us something to bowl at.

I think bowling Pakistan out on this wicket is going to be tough. I heard last night that the groundsman had the covers off* for the whole of yesterday (it was about 28 degrees, and very sunny in the south). Surely this means it will break up after a few days and become a spinner's wicket. Great work if it does considering we only have one in Monty Panesar. Now he has become a bit of a folk hero, but still isn't a particularly good cricketer. Anything but Ashley Giles mind (or the pie chucker as a good friend calls him).

Follow it all on Cricinfo and fivelive online

*Just heard that the pitch was covered all day yesterday. My apologies to the groundsman.

Observations

I noticed a few things this morning on the way into London

- I spend more time thinking about how to resign after my lottery win than about my journey.
- I sing a lot when on the bike and it is usually 'A Cautionary Song' by The Decemberists, or 'American Pie' (definitely the Don MacLean version, not Madonna).
- No matter what speed motorists are doing, they will always brake sharply when they come across a speed camera.
- My journey in the morning is from west to east, in the evening it's east to west. On a sunny day I have the sun in my eyes for every inch of my commute.
- The route I take through the back of London, via Saville Row and New Bond Street has more potholes in the road than an adolescent's face.
- I turn off Picadilly into Albemarle Street. Until this morning, I thought that it was Ablemarch Street.
- Soho smells like roast chicken

More tales of woe

I got back to my bike last night and some scooterist had moved it about 2 foot to the left, right on top of another bike, and wedged his rust heap in the gap he created. My mirror was squashed up on the handlebars of the bike next to me and now has a lovely crack right down the middle (unfortunately only noticed this on the way home or else I would have let his tyres down and removed his engine). There was no way I could get to my bike as there was no space either side, so I returned the favour and moved the scooter so I could get access. I added another 2 foot so I had plenty of space. I unsuccessfully tried to find a pen and paper so I could leave this f***knuckle a love letter. So I just left his scooter outside the parking bay, in the hope that a traffic warden would spot him and ticket the bastard. What is it about these people, have they got a personal vendetta against me?

On the way in this morning the police had blocked the road on the way into London, just past Harrods. So the next 20 minutes was spent wrestling my way through vans/buses/fire engines and trying to find another route past the carnage. I gave up and did a sneaky, going down the wrong side of the road to miss the blockage. Note to self: must try and find different routes around London.

This week's playlist

I thought I would make a note of what's been on the playlist this week. Normally I just listen to The Decemberists, Half Man Half Biscuit and Fiery Furnaces, but have been diversifying a little this week.

Firstly the not so good. Having never listened to the following before, I thought I would give them a go: Hope Of The States, Orson, The Kooks, lostprophets (no capital 'L' according to the web), Love Is All and The Rakes. All fairly dissapointing I must say. It's the type of generic stuff that fringes the charts and is on the cusp of commercial dross and indie. Still, had to listen and give everything a fair chance, then slag it off. The Futureheads new album is a waste of time as well.

Halfway up the Scoville scale I found AFI, Alien Ant Farm, Boy Kill Boy, Cat Power, The Charlatans, Band Of Holy Joy and The Zutons. AFI. and AAF are pretty much the same and a bit 'poor man's' Offspring, but still a jolly good romp and kept me entertained for a while. Zutons nearly made the next batch, but found the album a little samey.

Higher up, in the European slots I found Guillemots (some great tracks, although the albums were a little dull), Psapp (latest isn't a patch on 'Tiger My Friend' though) and The Long Blondes. I reckon the latter might grow on me and become the new Death Cab For Cutie.

The highlights this week have been all the oldies though. I came across a load of old CDs whilst clearing out the baby's room and have been listening to The Police, The Who (Quadrophenia - top album), Spear Of Destiny and This Mortal Coil. TMC were always a band I thought I should like as I was into Cocteau Twins, Throwing Muses, Dead Can Dance etc, but never really got into them. However, thoroughly enjoyed 'Filigree & Shadow' and 'Blood'. Might dust off 'It'll End In Tears' and give that another whirl.

One major dissapointment this week; I've just listened to a load of Bowie songs and was a bit let down. Some of his songs are classics, some really nice but a lot of dross on there as well, especially the later ones. David Bowie, you are no longer on the main table, goodbye.

P.S. I was going to be all funky and add links to band / album names mentioned, but allmusic.com is misbehaving.

P.P.S. Sorry David B, listening to the rest of the CD has changed my mind again, you are restored to Rock Legend status - just ditch the recent stuff.

P.P.P.S. Allmusic behaving again, so in go the links

Bad office habits

Nothing pisses me off more in an office than people with a fake happy nature. Not that being happy at work is a bad thing, let me be more specific; Whistlers. Whistle a tune goddamnit, not just some random noise that sounds like next door's kettle boiling over. Mozart's Eine Kleine Nachtmusik is a good place to start, we all know it, it's pleasant enough ditty. And we all know it is for everyone else's benefit; 'lookee here, I'm so happy because I've had a meeting where everyone laughed at a joke I cracked.' Knobs.

And you get these people that do happy walks as well. You know the gig, bouncing lamb-like from foot to foot, shoulders peaking and troughing like the Pacific during monsoon season. Get three of them in a line and they look like the Snow White's gang on their way to the mine.

There are others that laugh VERY loudly at everything a certain person does, says, or emails. Everytime. Doesn't have to be a boss, but there is always Mr Popular in the office (never me, hence the rant) and for every Mr Popular there is always a Mr In-aweofmrpopular. It doesn't have to be a joke or witty email either, they greet work tasks with the enthusiasm normally reserved for puppies being taken for a walk. Order - 'Could you file this random piece of paper, minion'. Response - 'AbsoLUTEly'. Cue whistling and funny walk.

I'll add more when observed

Hazards

About a year or so ago I decided, whilst stuck on a train outside Waterloo, that I would get a motorbike and ditch the public transport gig. I'd been working in central London for about 4 years, and had probably been delayed for a total of a year for one reason or another. I never had too much of a problem with the Underground, it was the trains that got me. For those that have never experienced the British rail system, boy you are missing a treat. Many a night I have been stuck at some obscure station in the fog waiting in vain for an announcement telling me how the hell I am going to get home. The station announcers even have a scale for delays; if late less than 15 minutes - we are sorry for the delay; if late between 15-30 minutes - we are very sorry...; if late over 30 minutes - we are EXTREMELY sorry; if late over an hour - you just don't get any info and they deny everything. S'all mind games you see. Like the rail-speak they use to make them sound superior to you and to make you think that they know what they are doing. Ticket inspectors are now Revenue Inspectors, you don't get off a train anymore, you 'alight' from the train and so on. And then there's the cost of using this great service: the increases are indexed linked to the Argentinian economy I think. Anyway, I had had enough, so decided to do the motorcycle thing, and opened up a hell of a lot of frustration.

There are 3 main hazards when riding a motorcycle in central London (there are many hazards, but 3 that are like a constant toothache.)

Buses - All buses. Coaches ferrying tourists from Chicago to Hove via Oxford Street, open topped tour buses, public transport buses. Now they have introduced these bendy buses (two buses glued together with a piano accordian.) These things are great, they get stuck around corners and block junctions presumably because the driver actually can't see the end of it. Two major problems with buses, they are too wide for the roads, and they are driven by people that would probably fail an IQ test.

Next up, pedestrians. I don't know what it is about London, but these guys just don't seem to grasp the concept that green man means walk, red man means don't walk, and that if a big metal object with 2, 4 or more wheels hits them, it might sting a bit. There is a junction at Oxford Street that I ride over every night, and I swear to God I have to swerve to miss pedestrians at both ends, every single night. Now I can forgive tourists who are wide eyed and in awe of such manificance as HMV and the shop that sells plastic bobby's helmets, but it's not just them, it's people in suits who obviously work in the area. You think they would know. There is also a mentality that if one person walks, it must be safe. Sheep, the lot of them. Worst is when it rains, you see them all scurrying across the roads for cover like rats in a sewer. Pestilance.

But the biggest problem on the roads, effin scooters. Man these guys get my back up. Typical situation: I manage to filter my way thru the traffic and appear unscathed between two cars at the front of the queue, front wheel over the solid white line to give myself a bit of clearance from the cars ready to pull off when the light turns green (which means GO, take note pedestrians). Next thing a scooter will appear from nowhere, squeeze past me and position himself a few feet ahead of me, F1 grid stylee. Ok whatever. Take a quick glance at said scooterist in the vain hope that he/she/it will see the annoyance on my face. Don't make eye contact as he/she/it eyes my bike, no doubt thinking 'Gee, that's a big one, but what's that stick thing by his right footpeg'. Lights go green and I give it some welly, not because I am a racer, just so I can get some clear tar between me and the cars. Lo and behold, the mosquito is slightly ahead of me because of the sheer power and acceleration of his twin turbo single gear 50cc beast, coupled with the live-fast-die-young-gotta-race-race-race attitude. The race normally lasts about, oooo, as far as the manhole cover mid-junction, then it's a case of trying to find a way past the scooter. If it's a clear road it's easy enough, but if you're in traffic, you have to hope that you get past it before coming across another load of cars, or else your stuck behind it in first gear until the next open stretch. Once past scooter, repeat the above for 15 miles. Frankly guys, I am getting fed up with it. Yes, you can go 0-30 in 2 seconds. Unfortunately, you go 30-35 in about 2 minutes. There are enough obstacles on the road without having to overtake the same bloody scooter after every junction.

I liken them (scooter / scooterist combo) to those annoying kids you get at weddings. You know the type, their single mother has ignored the 'regrets - no children' bit on the invitation, so the little fecker has got no other kids to play with. They spend the entire reception sliding across the polished floor on their knees, pestering every adult trying to have a conversation and then throwing up and wailing because they are tired and 'cross'. You hear people say 'hasn't he got a lot of energy'. Read 'will someone throw that little twat in the river'. The type of kid whose mum doesn't believe in smacking, but talks to him 'like an adult, it's so much better and he respects me for it'. Stop it woman, the brat is a living advert for birth control, and deserves a damn sound thrashing until he's old enough to fight back. Oh, and they are always boys, never girls. Let's take this back to the road. Scooters are annoying, unwelcome and constantly pester.

Think I might start taking the train again.

7/7 update

12 o'clock has come and gone. A crowd from the office went upstairs to the roof terrace to observe the silence and hold hands. They are all back at their desks now chatting about it and no doubt won't think of this for another year.

As yet there are no incidents in London and let's hope there aren't any.

On a lighter note...

My sister-in-law was in London last weekend and rang me to see if we could all meet up. I asked where she was and she said the hotel name, which I had never heard of, there must be hundreds in London. I asked her what she was nearby, and she said 'Prada'. Once a woman...

7/7

Today is one year since the bombings in central London. There have been a few helicopters flying about but doesn't seem like there is much other unusual police activity on the streets. I suspect the train and tube stations will have a bit more presence. Last year was very strange. A lot of people were delayed on their way into work, lots of talk of 'bloody tubes delayed again' and the usual email banter about the usual suspects being late. Then the news drifted in about what had happened and everyone in the office was connected to the BBC website trying to get more information. We were advised to stay in the building but no-one wanted to be here. Of course I had a deadline to meet so there was no way the company would let me go home early - bombs or no bombs, the client needs that HTML email done today, no excuses. I got released along with the rest of us mid-afternoon and headed home, expecting to see carnage and body parts all over the streets, road closures etc. But none of that. The roads were crazy as the underground had been shut and I think the buses had been taken out of action so everyone had to find alternative routes. There were a load of motorcycles with pillion passengers without helmets, but the police did nothing about it, they had enough to worry about.

When I got home the phone never stopped ringing with family all over the world checking if we had been blown up. Most were from my in-laws who were concerned about the wife, although she works in Slough which is a good 30 miles from London (try and tell a foreigner that there are parts of the country that are outside the borders of London city centre and you get met with blank stares.)

I came into work the next day as I travel into London on a motorbike and the public transport shut down didn't affect me. It was very eerie, but strangely busy with all those that showed up just going about their normal business. I suppose a lot of people subscribing to the theory that lightning never strikes twice in the same spot, or like me, work stops for nothing. The office was quiet, but central London seemed to be pretty normal. Come Monday, it was like nothing had ever happened, and it's been like that ever since.

I think the most worrying thing about these attacks, is why? At least 2 of the bombers were British, with English accents and obviously brought up here amongst British natives. What made them hate this place so much? They weren't from London, but their actions could have killed or injured their own friends and family, or friends of friends and so on. Somewhere along the line they got brainwashed by someone. It is a huge problem in this country that we welcome just about anyone, from any creed or culture. That in itself isn't a problem, what is is that once here they are left to their own devices. There is no proper integration here, you have micro-communities of all sorts all over the country. A lot of these communities are very insular, and are pretty much ostracized and certainly not encouraged to become part of the wider community. I can understand why they feel left out, although the blame must lay at their feet as well. If I moved to a foreign country, I would certainly try and find people in the same position as me, but then I would try and fit in as best as I can as well. I know I would because as a Brit, I lived in South Africa for a while. Oh well, race issues are very sensitive and I suppose they will never be sorted out, it just worries me that British people hate other British people enough to do the things they do.

We have a 2 minute silence at 12 o'clock this afternoon, and I'm wondering why, and what difference does it make? We should all remember the dead and the injured and what they went through and should think of them often. I bet no-one that bows their head today has even thought of the London bombings this year. But where does that stop? I don't recall having 2 minute's silence on the 11th of September last year, does that mean we have forgotten about that atrocity? Will we continue to have silence on the 7th of July every year until some other major catastrophe happens? When was the last time we thought about the dead from Heysel, Bradford, Lockerbie, or even the 1st world war. I'm not saying it is wrong to grieve, but we all grieve in our own way and by announcing in an office that at 12 o'clock we all have to keep quiet and think about something doesn't sit well with me. I often think about that day without having to be reminded. But that's the Brits for you, we are so politically correct here you dare not step out of line. Do you remember the furore about the death of (ex) Princess Diana? I was living in South Africa at the time and happened to overhear a conversation in a pub shortly after her accident between two South African's. One was saying that he travelled from Pretoria to Johannesburg (about 40 odd miles) to lay a wreath at the British Embassy. All very nice of him, but I wondered why Diana meant so much to him to do that, or did he do it because that's what everyone else did? It all went a little overboard, they even cancelled the football fixtures the following weekend 'as a mark of respect'. The icing was supplied from our favourite media whore, Elton John, who sang 'Candle In The Wind' at her funeral, re-released it as a single and got a lot of kudos from the public. I thought he wrote that song about Marilyn Monroe, how tacky is that to hijack it and dedicate it to someone else. Maybe the grieving was all about guilt as we did nothing as a nation but slag her off for the few years before her death.

Oh well, cynical old me will bow my head at 12 o'clock like the rest of the office and remember what happened this time last year, like I need reminding. Sorry to be cynical, but it's my blog, my opinion.

Lost, HBO and all things serial

I've developed a slightly unhealthy obsession with Lost. I had avoided these types of programs for so long but now I'm hooked. It all started with seeing a poster for 'Carnivale' on the underground one night. It looked weird enough to be interesting so I rented the first series and the seed was sown. I got right into it and was watching 3-4 episodes every night and got the second series straight away. The ending was a tad dissapointing (as was the fact that the lizard faced man on the poster was just an extra) but the 24 episode journey was pretty special. Next up was Deadwood. I can't praise this show enough and watched series 1 and 2 in about 4 days. I never thought swearing could be so cool. Cocksucker.

I had heard about Lost but never seen it. It was one of those shows that everyone in the office was talking about and one that, to be honest, sounded shit. But by God how wrong was I? Ok, so it is a bit shit and a glorified soap opera and too many questions and not enough answers, but I can't get enough. Now I am one of those bores in the office that keeps going on about it. I like the way that nothing is taken for granted; killing off main characters is especially refreshing (although I was pissed off they ditched Michelle Rodriguez as she was looking surprisingly good. Just leave Evageline alone or else there will be fire and brimstone.) What next? As of now I have 4 episodes of series 2 to watch, I'm not expecting any closure as I heard series 3 is being filmed, but no matter. This one can run and run I reckon.

Seems HBO and that type of production house have got it right with these big budget TV series. I guess I'm going to have to watch stuff like Six Feet Under, The Sopranos, 24 and Nip/Tuck now as I assume they will all be as captivating. I can honestly say I have never seen one episode of any of the above. Time for a change I think.

A couple of good music links

Shedloads of Fiery Furnaces live recordings here

3hive trawl the net for free MP3s released by bands/labels and stick 'em on their blog. Good search facility n'all.

Links that are rocking my world

Musicbrainz - If like me, you are anal about MP3 tagging, then these guys have a couple of great MP3 tag tools which do all the hard work for you.
Last.FM - Builds a profile of the music you listen to with weekly, monthly and overall charts on tracks, albums and musicians. No hiding from the fact you like Kylie with this baby.
Stuffonmycat - Plain silly, simply brilliant.
Cricinfo - Live ball-by-ball text commentaries on pretty much any first class cricket match. Plus other cricket related shit.
Boreme - Funny videos, pics and interactive stuff. Updated daily.
Google Earth - Become an astronaut and fly around the world. Words don't do this app justice - donwload it and be amazed.
Google Maps - The boys at Google do it again updating the AA and Multimap type streetmap site.
Flickr - Online searchable photo album, and it's free.
Allmusic - Searchable DB of all things music with disographies, band profiles/member etc.
Holymoly - Rude and hilarious
Yousendit - Brilliant way of getting large files around t'internet. No more need for floppies.

Hitlist and Shitlist

Maria Sharapova
For making Wimbledon bearable, proving there is life after Kournikova, grunting so and giving me a warm tingley feeling everytime I see her.

Aitkins diet
I love meat. I'm fat. I hate diets. So you can imagine my glee when a diet comes along that demands consumption of 5kg of meat a day. Who cares if I lose weight.

English weather
Any chance we could have something in between bollock vanishing freezing and skin melting boiling please?

UPS/Sound Control/Thieving pikey neighbours
Between these three I've just lost £30 and a lot of patience. Deliver the parcel to someone four doors down, who I have never met and ends up being a thieving bastard, then deny everything and blame Sound Control. Contact Sound Control and they blame UPS. I blame them all and hope that they all die a horrid death.

Scooters/scooterists
Jesus guys, a one day CBT course does not really prepare you for central London at peak hour. In spite of your Alpinestars leathers, you don't look cool, you look like a twat. Whizzing in between my spokes and trying to race me from traffic lights does not impress me, it just makes me want run over your 50cc mosquito. Know your place.

Crouch and Hargreaves
The 2 biggest mistakes Sven made? Nope, got a lot more respect for these boys as they were the only decent England players in the tournament. Sirs, forgive me for getting it wrong, I salute thee.

Christiano Ronaldo/Portugal
Not a bullet wound in sight. Stay on your feet, there's a good little boy. (Match highlights from England v Portgual found here)

St Andrew Murray
For proving that you don't have to be English to be shit at tennis.

St Andrew Murray
For being an arrogant lanky prick from the provinces who thinks making friends involves alienating 40 million people who used to support you and moaning moaning moaning. You're shit, and you know you are.

Half Man Half Biscuit
You have been rocking my world for 20 years and you still have the decency to keep going. I love you and want to have your children.