Wednesday, 20 June 2012

Euro 2012

Has anybody noticed anyone in the media eating humble pie over the appointment of Hodgson yet? Even Russell Howard got in on pillorying the FA for daring to go against the media and not appointing Redknapp. He's helping a team of over-rated millionaires play football in a none showy, dull, but effective way. I have spent years using the failure of England as a rationale for mocking the Sheeple and their slavish obsession with a bunch of thick twats kicking about a spheroid. Now here I am, admiring the down to Earth qualities of a man who appears to be making these self same twats play the game they're supposed to be worth millions for. I even find myself hoping he brings England great success, not as a victory for "our boys" (vomit), but as a victory for the quiet man who cares not a fuck for being some glossy media darling.

Saturday, 16 June 2012

Bring on the Draconian Driving Laws

Drivers face £90 on the spot fine and three points for being in the wrong lane or tailgating

Despite the media slant, I am happy that these laws are being considered.

I am sick of middle-laners, tailgaters, Mad Alan McMad in his supercharged Audi who is weaving through the traffic on the motorway like he is playing Burnout; or Homicidal Harry driving his wagon whilst tucking into his sarnies and piloting 44 tons of metal and rubber through a damp D3M.

I'm all for having whipping triangles erected at every Motorway Service Area, so if you're feeling stressed out by all the poor driving around you, pull in, have a ginsters and a wee; and then enjoy the sight of several Numptys being horsewhipped for your delectation.

Wednesday, 6 June 2012

Spider Bro

There is a spider that lives in the corner of a room downstairs. He is only little at the moment, so I don't feel the need to kill him. But I wonder where his life will lead or what he will do in future.

Also...The corner of the room is a shitty place to have a home surely.

Me: Mr Spider, may I ask you...What are doing in the corner of the room?

Spider: Well, it's warm, dry, cosy and I can see everything that goes on up here with my 8 eyes.

Me: Surely you can see that since I keep the house very clean, that there is nothing to eat in the corner of the room?

Spider: No no, you are mistaken my friend. I make my web in this corner everyday, and one day something will fly into here and I will eat it. It's the perfect location.

Me: But it isn't. I've never seen you eat anything.

Spider: Spiders, like me, don't need to eat as often as you humans do. I can survive for months without a single snack.

Me: But that defies thermodynamics surely? You require energy to exist. The only way you get it is by eating things.

Spider: Indeed, but I just don't bother moving, or growing if I can't find anything to eat.

Me: But, that's crap. Why not move outside, spin your web between a few blades of grass like that fat bugger over by the pond, and you'll be eating mossies all day.

Spider: But, him, out there, he's Steve by the way...That's what he's always wanted. I am happy where I am. I get by, and I'm content. I don't want to spend all my life chasing the mossies around the slack water.

Me: But,

Spider: The candle burns at both ends my friend. Be happy with what you have.

Me: Right. Screw the mystical bullshit. You've chosen a crap place to spin a web, and in an attempt to add meaning  to your failure, you choose to spin a web of deciet around the tragedy that is your life.

Spider: Think what you like, you are merely projecting your anxiety onto a spider who is happy with his lot.

Me: No, don't do this, don't spin this around...I am berating you for your failings and demanding that you move on, and out of my home. Go and see something of the world, make something of yourself before I find you half in and half out of your skin, dead from the effort of shedding.

Spider: Once I saw a wasp flying round the ceiling fan and I thought "I'll have him, if he comes over here!" But he proceeded to kill himself by banging against the window for 8 hours. That taught me something.

Me: What?

Spider: That wasp continued to repeat the same action over and over again, until he died. He couldn't see that, had he merely reversed course and went towards the patio, he could have escaped. He could have set himself free by seeing things differently. Instead, he trapped himself. It was tragic

Me: Enough spider. Enough. I see what you are doing...I cannot do what you will, for I lack the money to do it.

Spider: Is money the answer? Or is it will.

Me: Look, I will not take advice from a creature who, when confronted with a threat, falls to the floor and runs to hide under the nearest dark space. Naturally the dark space is my shadow, thus I kill you in primeval fear.

Spider: I choose not to do this. I choose contemplative inertia.

Me: Fine. I'm going to do to you what you want me to do. I'm going to move you on, and I will move on tomorrow...Deal?

Spider: Deal.

Alas, the spider, who had the voice of Ricardo Montalban, fell to the floor when I attempted to capture him in a glass...Thus I killed him in primeval fear. He looked up at me through his 8 dying eyes and whispered.

Spider: Be the man you know you can be.

Then the orchestra began to play, and it all faded out on me yelling. I awoke several hours later in hospital, the doctor told me that surviving on neat Absinthe and a diet of mint Matchmakers was probably not a good idea.