Supersize quotations to go

I'm not particularly one given for sayings or quotations, but a few have stuck in my head for years now. Quite a few from that great philosopher Lemmy, and quite a few from ordinary people, you know, what Naomi Campbell might call 'civilians'.

One of them is 'When you're alive you ride in buses, when you're dead, you ride in a Rolls Royce.' Which I've never fully worked out - I guess it means something along the lines of being thought of better dead than alive - but I've always kind of liked it.

Another one was said to me when I passed my driving test: 'It's the hardest thing to get and the easiest thing to lose', which is true.

One sticks in my mind more than all the others though, which is: 'Why eat out at McDonald's when you can have steak at home?'. That was told to me by one of my cousin's husbands (I always liked him, growing up in 1970s Leicester he'd seen just about all my favourite bands at the De Montfort Hall at one time or another, and he had great pleasure in telling me about it), and it really struck a chord, I thought it was probably one of the most profound, and true things I'd ever heard. Imagine my dismay, then, when I found out yesterday that it was Paul Newman who said it first. And it was a piece of advice my cousin's husband never really believed, as five years ago he was exposed as having an affair with a member of his staff and left my cousin.

Anyway, I was on the old iPod shuffle yesterday and the following song came up by one of my favourite nineties bands (largely forgotten now, more's the pity. How come the decent bands never reform?). I think it was written about the music industry, but could just have easily been written about the current banking meltdown and sub-prime debacle.

We think you are stupid

We give you money 'cos our assets are fluid yeah

We'll sell you down the river

Just remember that we said we'd deliver

Sign on the line and we'll give you the money

Outraged from Newark

I hate my local newspaper, but sometimes they put a story in there that makes me spit crisps all down my front.
Take this week, there was a story under the heading 'Outraged by alfresco sex'. The gist of it was that a married couple, walking through the park near the castle, at 9.50pm on a Saturday night were 'horrified' at the sight of a couple having a bonk. Apparently the married couple thought there were two people fighting, so decided to go for a closer look. The couple who were at it then finished, had a break on a bench (no doubt with a shared gasper and some 'how was it for you?' banter) and then had sex again, all under the watchful gaze of our concerned Newarkers. Apparently one of the accused had drunk seven pints, but 'wasn't drunk'. I'm surprised after that much ale he was still fit for purpose.
This is the killer bit for me, from Miss Sarah Neale, one of the couple's defending solicitors:
'Miss Neale questioned whether the couple who saw them were truly outraged "the couple who saw them were so outraged that they stayed watching and following them for half an hour" she said'. Clearly a solicitor with a sense of humour.
The case was adjourned until October 13th.

A rare political post - Brown sauce

Sarah Brown's introduction speech yesterday at the Labour Party conference could have been pepped up a bit if she'd introduced him in the same manner that James Brown used to get introduced:
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is what you've been waiting for! Westminster brother no.1! Mr Please Please Please! The Godfather of sustained economic growth and prudence! Mr Gordon Brown!!!"
Ho-hum, never mind...

Please, I beg of you, help me!

I wonder if anyone out there can help me (I knew this blogging lark would have some sort of use), I'm looking for the name of a record. Steve Wright played this record a few weeks ago, and in the infuriating way that Steve Wright is Steve Wright, he didn't give the title. A small snatch of it was also used on the 1968 edition of the Rock 'n' Roll Years, which was shown last night.
Let me describe it: it's an instrumental along the same sort of lines as Eye Level or Classical Gas; it has a harpsichord motif running through it; the main melody is done on strings and sounds a little like a part of Something's Gotten Hold of My Heart; it was obviously from 1968.
Please, someone help me, it's driving me insane. I need it in my life!

Can I have thirty minutes of my life back please?

Of course, it was much simpler when I was a kid, Saturday evening telly followed a simple pattern: Teleprinter, news, Tom and Jerry, Jim'll Fix It/Doctor Who (ugh), Generation Game, All Creatures Great and Small/Fanny by Gaslight/Juliet Bravo.
Just lately though, Saturday telly seems to have taken a turn for the worse. I say this because on Saturday night I was witness to probably the lowest point in British television history, and, yes, I've seen Loose Women. I'm talking about Hole in the Wall. If you didn't see it, it's based on a Japanese game show, which is enough to make you switch off already (a note to BBC commissioning execs: Clive James used to show Japanese game shows for a reason - to highlight that British TV wasn't all that bad). Apparently clips of the Japanese version were popular on the internet, which is yet another reason why the internet needs to stay on the internet.
The basic premise is that some minor celebrities dress in awful silver Lycra outfits and helmets and have to fit through a hole in a wall that's advancing rapidly towards them, if they don't they end up in a kiddies' paddling pool. That's it. No questions to answer, no skill involved.
One of this week's guests was one of the Hairy Bikers, don't ask me which one, it wasn't the Geordie one. The sight of him in skin-tight clothes was enough to scare off any children who may have tuned in by mistake. I say by mistake because surely nobody planned this into their Saturday evening viewing schedule, did they? I caught it by mistake because it was on at my mother's. Honest.
Watching Andi Peters get shoved in the water was mildly amusing though. Mind you, I could think of a lot worse things I'd like to see happen to that little turd, like making sure he never appears on TV again. Especially as he single-handedly ruined Top of the Pops.
Here's a clip of it, miraculously from the BBC's own You Tube channel. I'd would have thought that they wouldn't have wanted to show off about it. And yes, Dale Winton, you left Radio Trent for a career in telly, did you ever think this is what you'd end up doing, a vehicle even worse than Supermarket Sweep or Pets Win Prizes?




Nobody's a winner in this game show, not the contestants, the presenter or the audience. I've never felt like asking for a portion of my licence fee back, but I do now.

Post-It slinkies

This is exactly the reason why I don't work in an office; too many people with far too much time on their hands.
Very clever though, even though I don't really believe it's all done with Post-Its. They aren't stuck together like that, are they?

See more funny videos and TBT Videos at Today's Big Thing.

I didn't write that bottom bit, by the way.

Mad Keen

Quickly scanning my Statcounter keyword results, who'd have thought that Diane Keen and her tits would be so popular? And I don't ever recall Anita Dobson appearing on this blog.

Oh, and another thing, whoever's reading this blog who works for Procter & Gamble, could you identify yourself? You've found me over three different blogs now. You've won a prize.

Term

5 14.29% diane keen

4 11.43% diane keen tits

2 5.71% dianekeen

2 5.71% diane keen with her tits out

2 5.71% diane Keen photo

2 5.71% diane keen's tits

2 5.71% jo whiley daughter

1 2.86% hammond organ

1 2.86% jo whiley

1 2.86% abunch of stiffs

1 2.86% metallica jo whiley

1 2.86% Jo Whiley's house

1 2.86% why did bbc not show full metallica set

1 2.86% This Morning Diane Keen

1 2.86% van der graaf generator

1 2.86% diane keen tv awards

1 2.86% romney hythe railway

1 2.86% when is diane keen's birthday

1 2.86% anita dobson

1 2.86% U Tube romney hythe and dymchurch railway

1 2.86% Jo Whiley's daughter

1 2.86% modern gutnish

1 2.86% jo whiley on metallica

Richard Wright

Please humour me while I go on about a band that nobody who reads this blog probably gives a toss about...
I think I must have had my head stuck up my arse for the past few days because the death of Rick Wright completely passed me by, only hearing about it today on the weekly music news segment on Ken Bruce's show.

I'm not normally one of those people who makes a song and dance over a musician's death - I'm not going to indulge in a Classic Rock mag-style 'he's joined the great band in the sky with Hendrix etc' post - but this one drew me up short as it was completely unexpected. Pink Floyd have for a long time been one of 'my bands', and to have them lose a member so suddenly made me feel especially sad today. I don't know why that should be, I don't recall the death of, say, Kurt Cobain to fill me with shock - probably because his death wasn't exactly unexpected.

Anyway, as a member of Floyd, Wright was completely understated, always letting the others shine while he remained in the background. Even on his most famous composition, the awfully-named Great Gig in the Sky, while all the plaudits go to Claire Torry's orgasmic wailing, Wright's always there with his understated piano and rumbling, but never obtrusive Hammond organ. He is completely responsible for the Hammond organ being my second favourite musical instrument.

From what I saw of him in documentaries and read about him, he was one of the good guys. There have only ever been five members of Pink Floyd, there are now only three left.

I'm the twinkle in her eye, I'm Jeff Goldblum in The Fly

I put The Divine Comedy's Best Of album on my iPod last weekend, and it got me to thinking that Neil Hannon is a fantastic songwriter. What's happened to him? He seems to have completely fallen off the radar. I always got the impression he was born at the wrong time and should have been swapping witticisms with Noel Coward in the 30s and 40s.

He also wrote the greatest song never to be entered into Eurovision.

Anyway, in the spirit of Lazy You Tube Embedding, here's my selected highlights from Hannon's, er, canon. Have it as a weekend treat on me, I'm sure you all deserve it after a shite week at work, right?

We all settled in? Right, we can begin.

Galloping along at a fair old lick...

Simply brilliant

Empathy corner...

Bummer

I notice the Rear of the Year award has been, er, awarded for 2008. And this year's winners are - cue drumroll - Ryan Thomas (Coronation Street) and Jennifer Ellison (Brookside). Hurrah! Not.

I've always wondered who it is that votes for this, and a little Wikipedia research (That'll be reliable then) has me believing that it's organised by a shadowy organisation known as Rear of the Year Ltd. Who are these people? We need to know. And how did Ellison's and Thomas's gluteus maximus get voted over the 56 million other UK residents?And why do Year of the Year Ltd think we're so interested in whose got the best arse?

Quite frankly I've never particularly noticed either Ryan's or Ellison's botty before. Mind you, it's hardly surprising I've never noticed Ellison's on the telly before, in our house she's known as Jennifer 'Quick, Turn Over' Ellison.

If they're looking for a winner in the lady category, then I work with a lovely, 40 year-old, lady called Tina who has a posterior that's better that Kylie's by a mile. Not that I spend all day looking at Tina's backside, mark you...ooh, I'll get me coat.

I plan to start my own contest: Ear of the Year. My first nominations are as follows: Prince Charles, Mr Rumbold, Gary Linekar and a lad at work who glories in the nickname of Wingnut.

Anyway, I know you've been waiting for this, but here's that all important list of every winner in full:

1976 — Barbara Windsor
1981 — Felicity Kendal
1982 — Suzi Quatro
1983 — Lulu
1984 — Elaine Paige
1985 — Lynsey De Paul
1986 — Anneka Rice and Michael Barrymore
1987 — Anita Dobson
1988 — Su Pollard
1989 — Marina Ogilvy
1992 — Ulrika Jonsson
1993 — Sarah Lancashire
1994 — Mandy Smith
1995 — Lisa Riley (as Mandy Dingle)
1996 — Tracy Shaw
1997 — Melinda Messenger and Gary Barlow
1998 — Carol Smillie and Frank Skinner
1999 — Denise van Outen and Robbie Williams
2000 — Jane Danson and Graham Norton
2001 — Claire Sweeney and John Altman
2002 — Charlotte Church and Scott Wright
2003 — Natasha Hamilton and Ronan Keating
2004 — Alex Best and Aled Haydn-Jones
2005 — Nell McAndrew and Will Young
2006 — Javine Hylton and Ian Wright
2007 — Siân Lloyd and Lee Mead
2008 — Jennifer Ellison and Ryan Thomas

Su Pollard? They need help. And who, exactly, is Marina Ogilvy and Scott Wright?

It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine

What if the world had ended at 8am this morning? Any end-of-the-world 'friskiness' I might have had were quashed when I found myself, at 8am, walking around a party favours factory in high-visibility waistcoat and hairnet, clutching a clipboard and biro, doing a stocktake on bhaji spice, ground coriander and ginger puree. Perhaps I should have stayed at home and waited for the end that didn't come.
So that wouldn't have made for a very interesting answer to any grandchildren's enquiry about what I did when some Swiss scientists caused the Earth's destruction, would it? But I wouldn't have had any grandkids anyway because the world would have come to an end. Or something. I've confused myself now...

Divvies Furniture Services

This ad's been running since about May. Constantly. I hate it. DFS sales don't 'rock'. Slayer rock, AC/DC rock, Foo Fighters rock. DFS sales most definitely do not rock. I can remember when, living in the catchment area between Central and Yorkshire TV, it had two different names: DFS and Northern Upholstery. DFS was in Central ('See for yourselves at our stores in Darley Dale and Measham!') and Northern Upholstery was in Yorkshire ('See for yourselves at our stores in Carcroft and Thorpe Arch!'). Four shops. Now the bastards are nationwide and making even shitter ads than the ones where a man in a tuxedo and a woman in a cocktail dress would wander around the stores looking at settees while holding champagne flutes. Yes, really.

I hate every single thing about that ad. The people in it - yeah, even the kid, no, especially the kid. The music, a song by Nickelback, who are to rock music what Stalin was to humanity. The way the blond woman, in another version of the same ad, emphasises the word 'ten' by holding up five fingers. The way the settees are made to look bigger than they actually are. I could go on...

This term 'it rocks' seems to be getting more and more common. I was watching Saturday Kitchen a while back, they had this red-faced public school wine 'expert' on there. He was doing his spiel from the wine department of an M&S somewhere. At the the end of his recommendations he looked at the camera and said 'This wine ROCKS!'. No it doesn't! To make matters worse he made that ridiculous devil's horn sign that only Ronnie James Dio and 15 year-old Slipknot fans make.

Hurry, the DFS sale ends on Sunday. Mind you, it's been ending every Sunday since July 6th.

A bunch of Stiffs

I see there was yet more cock-sucking of Factory Records on BBC4 last night. Don't get me wrong, I love a bit of New Order, but if there's a lesson in how not to run a record company, then that's it. Besides, they only produced three successful bands - two if Ian Curtis hadn't been such a selfish bastard. They made a good film about it though.
Anyway, one record company that's had the full BBC4 treatment (only the once, mark you. Not the annual one Factory gets) is Stiff Records. I can never understand why that record company is never mentioned in the same breath as those other greats: Tamla Motown, Island, Stax and Atlantic. It had the same 'music/artist first' ethos and family vibe of all those others.

In the spirit of Lazy You Tube embedding - which I haven't done much of in this blog - here's some of my favourite Stiff songs.
By the way, there's a great photo of Rush's Geddy Lee in an 'If it ain't Stiff it ain't worth a fuck' t-shirt, but I can't find it on the interweb.

I love Ian Dury. I've always fancied writing my own version of Reasons To Be Cheerful but never got past 'Master of Puppets/Beaker from The Muppets'



The greatest punk song ever.



Not strictly Stiff, but without Dr Feelgood, Stiff wouldn't have existed. Wilko Johnson is God.



If you hear this and don't want to dance, preferably whilst wearing a fez, then there are no egg custards for you at my house.



I always loved this record, but as a kid could never understand why he was in the kitchen at parties. The kitchen was where all the parents hung out, there was no jelly or musical statues in there.



A finer song about song about forbidden and hidden love is yet to be written. Much missed Chez Ambassador.



So many memories attached to this song. The greatest move The Wheatsheaf ever made was to put Pogues albums on their jukebox, this was always timed to come on at closing time on a Saturday, with their take on Dirty Old Town preceding it. I've spilt many drinks and smoked many gaspers to this one.

Stop

Wayne Sleep was on the radio the other day, the guy doing the interview said it was about time those dance troupes you used to get on variety shows were due a comeback. Why is is that everything over twenty years old is 'due a comeback'?

I didn't spend the best part of the 1980s fighting the Comic Strip wars just so a bunch of idiots who'd forgotten how bad stuff was the first time around think it's time it was bought back.

The sight of the Jeff Rogers Dancers on Seaside Special, Name That Tune. Shirley Bassey shows etc. was something that haunted my youth. All those grinning, energetic gits miming to a hit of the day is something that will live with me forever. Even as a seven year-old, a little bit of me died every time I saw it. The thing was, you knew they were miming, because, as my sister always used to say: "How can they jump around like that and sing at the same time?"



So what else do you think isn't due a comeback from 'the good old days?'

Here's a few suggestions:

• The Good Old Days
• The Black and White Minstrel Show
• Scarlet fever
• Banana-flavoured Toffos
• Syphilis
• Kloppa Castle
• The New Schmoo
• The Third Reich
• Roller discos
• Rationing
• 'Confessions' films
• ELP
• The Test Card
• Weekend World
• Bruno Brookes
• Clackers
• Herman's Hermits
• That's My Dog
• That's My Boy!
• The three day week
• Derby County FC

WI like

I read with interest this newspaper report. I'm all for a trendier version of the WI, especially if the ladies look like the yummy mummy in the pic, taken from their obligatory fund raising calender. I mean, who, apart from my Auntie Jean, still makes their own jam? These women are too busy going to see Puppetry of the Penis to be fannying about with preserving sugar, huge pans, and summer fruits (is is just me, or is Puppetry of the Penis a five minute variety act stretched a little too far? Mind you, stretching it too far is the whole point of the show I guess).

But I think some of the aspects of this new club need looking at.

For a start, singing Jammin' instead of Jerusalem at the start of meetings is trying a little too hard. I suggest something like Cornflake Girl by Tori Amos or anything but Sisters Are Doin' It For Themselves.

And the name WI Lite is just wrong, it sounds like an American gnat's piss beer.

Putting on my marketing hat, I suggest one of the following:

WI EXTREME!

minxes @ double-ewe-eye

WI - The Next Generation

They can have any of those ideas for free. With the proviso that they invite me to one of their meetings. Preferably one where they teach burlesque dancing. With the woman on the pic, Fay.

Ian Kilminster

I was reading a review of the new Motorhead album at the weekend. Lemmy is a man never to let political correctness get in the way of his lyric-writing. Here's a few examples:

"If you squeeze my lizard, I'll put my snake on you"

"You're jailbait, and I just can't wait" (a favourite of Gary Glitter's, I believe)

"Going down slowly's the only way to go"

There was a lyric quoted in the review which just made crack out laughing I think it's because it's just so wrong that it's completely right. Here it is:

"Rock out, with your cock out, impress your lady friends"

I love the way he uses the term 'lady friends', it shows respect to 'the ladies', there's a saucy 'Carry On' feel to it. Every time I read it it's me completely gone. No doubt if it was an inferior band, like WASP or Poison, the lyric would read, rather craply:

"Rock out, with your jackhammer out, stick to your bitch"

Of course, if the lyric was written about myself it would read:

"Rock out, with your cock out, amuse your lady friends"

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to download Rock Out.