Wednesday 30 November 2011

SO YES........................ IT'S CHRISTMAS.............YEAH!



HAPPY START OF CHRISTMAS Y'AAL!.............. YEAH!.............. So here we are again its the start of the festive season and even though retailers on the main part will have you think Christmas starts just after Easter it doesn't. If you go by the laws of out dated baby buggering religion it starts on Christmas Eve and ends 13 days later on the 6th of January.

Well it doesn't it starts on the pay day of November and normal people then get successfully pissed as shits with alarming regularity till the start of January when their money runs out, if asked about their actions in this period they will always say, "Yeah it's Christmas." See usually I'm a right miserable bastard, but this time of year gets me giddy as billy-o. It's not anything to do with the festive period it's the fact its proper winter and it drums back memories of wrapping up warm and Halloween half term, saving up me pocket money for fireworks and circling every Scalextric set in the Argos catalogue with a marker just to leave hints to my Parents.

Now my belief in Father Christmas waned a little by the time I was about 7 as he was a complete lie. I think it stemmed from me having a really bad case of tummy flu and wandered down stairs about 3 in the morning on Christmas day seeking attention like an abandoned kitten only to find my Mum frantically wrapping a Bigtrack in the downstairs loo and when I stuck my head in the lounge there was Me Dad asleep it his M&S shortie pyjamas fast asleep with an empty glass of sherry in front of him and a half eaten mice pie on his chest and his false teeth with pie crumbs on 'em .................. In his top pyjama pocket.

I went to bed confused and probably pissed the bed out of protest too! Now think of that scene 12 years later and I bring my new Mrs Cath to meet my folks at Christmas and see pretty much the same thing and get really embarrassed. And forward on a further 17 years and that's all I ever see at Dad's on Christmas Day! I think he still has the same shortie pyjamas.

So what to do with Father Christmas now? Well I think we should have him as a dour hard black man a bit like Samuel L Jackson hence the picture above and he stays around when kids get to their presents and tells them to open the mother fuckers and damn well fuckin' enjoy them even if they think they're shit.

Or you could have this


All Hail Bother Funkmass!



Just so you know I've drank three cans of dark ale while writing this and am a bit pissed!


Who cares it's CHRISTMAS YEAH!

Tuesday 15 November 2011

AAARRGH GOD WHAT'S HAPPENING I'M ONLY IN MY MID TO LATE THIRTIES!



So as I sit here jabbing away on this keyboard I feel in absolute crisis. A mid thirties crisis. Not a mid life crisis I'll hopefully have that to look forward to in a bit. But at 8.30pm on a Saturday night I've just found myself choosing which jacket to wear to work tomorrow; the camo Armani or the Stussy cardigan and putting some pies in the oven for tea. After trying on the look for tomorrow in the mirror I saw my face and what looked back looked like a bloodhounds funeral.

Yeah I'm getting old but I don't really feel it I feel really youthful at the minute, plus I have bought a few jackets for the winter of which my favorite of the lot is a little neat. Now every time I put one on it brings back a little of my youth and I think people fail to see that. Then why should they?

But what does bother me is I'm sounding old, I seem to mention the weather a lot and complain about disrespectful teenagers and burr my annoyance about the increasing amount of dogshit on the pavements. I still think a can of coke costs 20p and a Mars bar the same and why is bacon so much it comes from a pig and that's a filthy animal, every time I pick up the paper the news is 15% worse than it was the day before and the flashing bastard box of lies called a telly is shouting about something else that's BAD. Is this what the end of the world feels like? It never used to bother me before and I used to shrug it away with a simple "Meh!"  but it's giving me a creeping sense of dread I can't seem to shake off.

Time for a change me thinks. First I'll hit me mate Ol up and get some more tattoo's, perhaps a portrait of Maroon 5 on me cock. Then I'm gonna start wearing some jewelery like dookie gold chain with a diamond encrusted fist on it as that's pretty street. Then I'm gonna get me a Mrs, not a dowdy winy English one. This'll be a two hit process, first I'll have it over to Venezuela, Caracas probably as it's fuckin' mental there and it's been a good number of years since I've got up to mischief in a dangerous foreign city and take it from me it really keeps you on your toes. Then pull a new bird who'll be younger than me and look like this

 *

There's method by getting a younger bird too. As I am an old dog and getting a bit tired I think about the old dog we used to have as a kid, we got worried and got a puppy to mither the shit out of it and we got another seven years out of her. So this should do the trick!

In the short term I might get a new phone, I've not long got one but it's a bit boring and I have a line up for renewal so i might go Android again, the new HTC that's endorsed by Beats by Dr Dre. I'm an arsehole for getting drawn in by things like that. 

Plus It'll probably have an app or gizmo on it that will sort out my creeping sense of dread into sort of time table of concern so it can trim things down into bite size flurries of panic instead. Because when my new bird arrives I won't really care about it and when swine flu breaks out again here (remember that one?) I'll take the Mrs and move to San Fransisco or as I like to call it The PeoplesGaypublicOfDuggerfornia. Where we'll just chill by the pool and do 80's style Duran Duran after show party lines of coke through futuristic laser straws!


HEY PRESTO!

* The girl in the picture is a famous jazz model called Gigi Spice, I don't randomly trawl the web looking for Hispanic wives. However I do suggest you google the name as she looks brilliant with fuck all on.


Laters Yeah! I'm off to book some plane tickets and buy some body armour.

Thursday 10 November 2011

SO THE UK IS A DEMOCRACY......... RIGHT?



Yeah so it's been a few weeks since I last wrote anything, but hey I've been pretty busy with stuff which has largely consisted of lying on the couch watching films and buying jackets off EBay, all of which are excellent by the way. I even bled my central heating which was absolutely wizard fun and I can't wait to do it again there was enough air in it to pop the Hindenburg and it also gave the house a beautiful musk of stagnant water with a pinch of metallic in it, it smelled like a tramps oaty choad. That smell only lasted a few hours though which was disappointing but if anyone from Glade is reading if you could get that smell and make it into Plug In you could sell it under the name of "L'eau du squat." Or put it in your Christmas range as "Excuse Grandma I Think She's Been Eating Burnt Grass Again."

So I never usually bother about politics mainly as I have no interest in it and what ever goes on never has really affected me directly. But a few things have been bothering me of late and it's generally based around local government. Now in the UK we have a number of things that I think are a fantastic, the NHS for example, people whinge about it but take it from me it is ace and I've lived in countries that don't have provision for health care and it's expensive and crap. Our armed forces....... But that's about it.

I can't bear to watch the news anymore as all it is filled with is scandal and squabbles of our confused and unwilling compressed two party Government each side of it pulling back on the promises it made in the election race on a daily basis like petulant children trying weedle out of housework after having an extended go on the PS3. Or something else about a party member that's been getting his jolly's in some botting bogs on Clapham Common or some other old shite that just makes me want to shout, " FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK OFF," at the screen continually until I get bored then go out and do it at passing cars.

Democracy is generally defined as a form of government in which all adult citizens have an equal say in the decisions that affect their lives.[1] Ideally, this includes equal (and more or less direct) participation in the proposal, development and passage of legislation into law.[1] It can also encompass social, economic and cultural conditions that enable the free and equal practice of political self-determination.

So back to local councils as they really are as in the wise words of Frank Gallagher, "Right Fucking Shit." And they really are, staffed by spastics, run by spastics and represented by spastics. I have an ongoing issue with my council tax, I paid too much, it was then applied to the wrong account then it was a massive pain in the arse the get put right which climaxed with me sending them a solicitors letter after a bailiff popped round to the house for non payment of said paid council tax, then I got a call a few weeks back to say the matter is in hand and some apologies but as of yet no money back.

Now it isn't this issue that bothers me any more it's the actual amount of council tax that I pay. Never noticed it before as it's just one of those things that you just pay once every few months or once a year and it's never at a time when your short either usually March or after. This year my bill was £1180.00. I've looked everywhere on Carlisle City Councils website and it doesn't give me a definitive answer of where that goes. Now I know everyone says that it goes on local amenities like parks, road sweeping, upkeep of the roads, refuse collection, the police, the fire service, parking enforcement and funeral services and graveyards.

Well that may be true at least partially, the Police and roads and the lions share of the Fire Service is funded through our income tax, road duty and other income sources and the parking enforcement now in our town has been contracted out in the most part to Pirates and Highway men and Guerrillas and other private companies. So I look back through the year and really the only thing I have have used this year is the refuse collection, I haven't been through a park or even died last time I noticed but even if I do die I have a policy that will take care of all that side of it anyway.

Now to me £1180.00 on getting my bins tipped into a wagon once a fortnight I think is a bit steep. That works out at £47.20 a visit taking into account that they only collect them 25 times a year as they get a week off at Christmas and you don't get your rubbish picked up for a month after you've consumed more in that 3 week period than at any other time of the year. That however is not taking into the account the times they haven't taken it when the lid has been slightly ajar on the wheelie bin. Or the time when I rang and asked if there was anything they could do to help me with a large amount of garden waste I had as I had cut some trees down and wouldn't fit in the bin. They said no as if it didn't fit in the bin it's classed as commercial waste but I could take it to the tip, where they turned us away as we went in a van.

Now the way I see it is if I could opt out of that altogether I could rent  a limo for £27.55 an hour once a fortnight and get that to take me to the tip and back. I could get a black stretch one and spend the journey back standing out the sunroof pretending to be a plane or just winding down the blacked out windows at traffic lights and treating pedestrians to a display of my naked genitals. But really I don't think I'll be able to opt out as we as the electing members of our democratic society are not allowed to wince on our "Promise" to pay it like our elected government are seemingly allowed to wince out of their "Promises" on a regular basis ever since they got into office.

But this isn't going to stop me from having a bit of fun with next years bill. When I get it I'll return it with a counter offer written in green crayon and in a child's writing as I deem that to be the recipients intellectual level and await the reply, then I'll carry this on for as long as I can; obviously changing the colour of crayon so it keeps it all happy and light hearted. Then when they get get really pissy send them a legal document agreeing only to pay if they can provide me with a weekly status report of where my tax payment is being spent, which I've been told you apparently can do but could be a load of bollocks but I do have a couple of months to research this.

But if they do agree to that I'd like the report to be hand delivered and written on bog roll in brown crayon.

COR! It's only 6 weeks to Christmas!


SAFE YEAH!.....................