Friday, 18 February 2011

Take a match to these two

I detest those two fuckwits. In fact I don't just detest them, I hate them. Whoever thought this would make a good idea for an advert has obviously never been inside a music shop. For the uninitiated, music shops are even more of an intimidating place than independent record shops. The minute you walk in the door the bloke behind the counter will say "Ay up, mate, can I help?" (cos he's your mate as he knows that you know how to play something. Or not, in my case). You never walk in and just start picking out a tune on an instrument, unless you're the kind of cretin who goes in just to show off his "chops" on an "axe" he could never afford in a month of Sundays by playing Van Halen's Eruption.
And what's all this "I like old movies" bullshit? He likes old movies like the Godfather Pt. 3. That's hardly an "old movie", is it? The first time I saw it I was expecting him to say "I like old movies, like The Battleship Potemkin". The Godfather Pt.3 was released in 1990, oh yeah, very old. Mind you, to these two pillocks 1990 probably was a long time ago considering she looks like she was born when the Poll Tax riots were going off. And isn't it funny how he's a little bit quirky-looking but not exactly ugly while she's got a face like a doll. How come he doesn't look as though he's the bastard love child of Olive off of On the Buses and Plug off of The Bash Street Kids?
Besides, who actually does that? You know just start picking out a tune like that in the hope that this lass might take a shine to him? I can just imagine my song:
"I like fairly new, ugh, 'movies' like Gregory's Girl and Reservoir Dogs...but that's just me. I listen to Radio Nottingham at the weekends but only for the football. I fart in my sleep. I also have an unhealthy interest in the Cold War and I don't like shaving very much as you can probably tell, but that's just me. Oh, and I don't moisturise but I have got a manbag just to prove I'm not a neanderthal, but that's just me"

And while we're on adverts, how come 'Toilet Duck' is now just called 'Duck'? What happened? Didn't Mr Duck and his germ-fighting, bog-cleanser-squirting aeroplane like being associated with human functions? Flaming spoilsport.
And there's two massive flaws in that new Yellow Pages/JR Hartley ad: there aren't that many record shops left any more. And as if his real name's Day V Lately, when he rang to reserve his copy surely he'd have given his real name like Clive Biscuits or Tom Gusset.

I hate ad men. Apart from those in Mad Men.

Friday, 11 February 2011

Gladstone Bag

I watched that documentary about Ronald Reagan this week. Hmm, funny fellow. Anyway, this film featured a bloke whose job it was to persuade American states, counties and towns to name something after the 40th prez. That's his job, can you imagine? And he's not the only one, he was the HEAD of the naming people so he must have underlings.
All of which got me thinking: we don't name things after politicians in the UK, do we? Things are named after Royals (okay, I know that they're head of state like the American presidents but unlike American presidents they're technically politicians) or military leaders from 200 years ago.  I think more things must be named after the Duke of Wellington than anything else (and yes, I know Wellington was PM but surely he's more remembered for Waterloo). This is a country where the only things I can think of named after our greatest leader is a tank and a nodding, monosyllabic insurance bulldog. This is a country where airports are named after selfish singers and alcoholic footballists. How is that allowed to happen?
I think it's time we redressed the balance. For instance, how about the Herbert Asquith public toilets? The Alec Douglas-Home amusement arcade? The Clement Atlee fountain? The Neville Chamberlain airport where everyone steps off a plane saying "I hold in my hand a piece of paper..."? The Ramsay MacDonald dogging spot? I'm sure the ladies out there would love to go for an examination at The Edward Heath Centre for Gynaecological Excellence. How about the James Callaghan Memorial School of Economics? The Margaret Thatcher Museum of Mining? The Gordon Brown Charm School?
Us Brits are missing out here.

Friday, 4 February 2011


Hello. What you've just witnessed was me taking a break from blogs for the month of January. Not only did I take a break from blogs, I also took a break from social networking sites. Oh yes. And I feel much better for it too. I knew that something had to give when I my drumming tutor told me I was becoming obsessed with Facebook. He could tell I was becoming obsessed because I was checking Facebook on my phone in the middle of a drumming lesson.
So come January 1st I deactivated my Facebook account and did the same with Twitter. The trouble with Twitter is that you can't deactivate your account without deleting it. So I did. I have to say that I don't miss it. Twitter is something that I don't feel I've ever really come to grips with. It's okay for finding out about stuff, but it's pretty unokay if you're not particularly interested in X Factor or Question Time as your Thursday and Saturday night Twitter feed will be clogged up with people quacking on about both. I believe this is called, ugh, 'sofalising'. I'd call it 'a bag of wank.' I can't pay attention to TV shows and use my mobile internet device at the same time. Sorry. So I am no longer a Twitterer, which probably comes as a great relief to people who followed me.
As for Facebook, I bumped into a friend at Forest three weeks ago who asked me why I wasn't updating my Facebook profile any more. I told him it was because I was having a break from it. He replied "To be honest, you were getting on my tits a bit." Which I took as meaning that he thought I was a little verbose and gobby. I liked his honesty, it's made me look at how I handle myself on Facebook. Although that friend has now been deleted from my Facebook friends. There's being honest and there's being a honest. If he don't like it, he can fuck himself*, just because he writes about Forest for The Observer....

I have to say it's all been rather freeing. I've watched films, listened to LPs, practised a lot more on the drums and got through tons of stuff on my TV hard drive. You should try it, and I'll definitely do it again.

Anyway, as for the blog I've decided not to blog as much and change what I blog about. I mean who wants to read another bloody blog about the queue at the bank or supermarkets or the neighbours? I don't, especially when others do it so much better than me. I also won't be blogging as much as instead of working for 8 hours a day 5 days a week, I now work 10 hours a day 4 days a week so I won't have so much time.

But have this, it's great. I wonder what they'd have been like if they hadn't spent the mid to late 70s traipsing around the stadiums of America as Aerosmith's support act but doing more stuff like this:

*Not really, yeah I've deleted him but he's still a sound lad.