Friday, 28 December 2012
So in the final week of this the year Twenty Twelve
From January to December I shall plan to delve!
I am going to try and be a little bit more clever
I know you’re sat there thinking "You? Never"!
I will try and discuss events, points and the odd story
And relive my grumpiness and anger in all its techno glory!
Whilst trying to make this damn 2012 year review rhyme
Although my poetry skills could be seen by some as a crime!
So the beginning of the year started with dance and jive,
It continued each week in the Sub Bar and the odd dive!
Carly Rae Jepson was the track of choice for the trio,
Moving around the dance floor like The Matrix’s Neo!
The three amigos spread the dance fever with joy,
It also allowed us to take the piss out of a certain Jew Boy!
I learnt many things about Jew Boy and his lack of tact
He can fall asleep anywhere and that is matter of fact!
He likes to dance with women like he’s making out
And looks like a boiled egg with cress hair about to sprout!
He leaves his empty contact lenses all over my home,
And Ash thinks they’re pods left by a magical gnome!
Speaking of Ash, he is the housemate you know,
He’s been with me for 2012, but we pass and go.
He leaves crumbs and thinks everywhere is north
Travelling around Yorkshire, up, down, back and forth,
Spreading the love for his passion which is boring darts
And sits and eats Chinese whilst releasing vicious farts!
In the news I’ve had child hood TV stars been ousted as paedo’s
Sir Jimmy flashing his golden tracksuit and skimpy speedo’s!
There’s been the announcement of a royal baby on the way,
Column inches dedicated to keeping morning sickness at bay!
The USA also re-elected Obama as President of the Earth
If American I would have voted Obama for what it’s worth!
In the UK we had a year to celebrate with gusto and glee,
It was a year of parties for the Queen’s Diamond jubilee!
She had everything from street parties with plenty to scoff,
My only highlight, however, was the fact we got a day off!
She even had a gig arranged for her by X-Factor’s Gary Barlow.
And boy can that man certainly put on a very camp show!
There were plenty of other reasons for the UK to rejoice,
The entire country came together in one united voice.
The Olympics came to our shores and we wanted to shout,
Look at us, Britain is great, for that the world was in no doubt.
We had gold medals galore for Farah, Adams and Ennis,
And even a victory for the Brit, not a Scot, in the tennis!!
I continued to get angry at cars with lashes and stupid stickers,
People that do that kind of thing are just simple window lickers!
I had two teeth out even though only one was meant to be done,
That was a mistake, the dentist states, think of it as two for one!
But I have found out that I do get comfort from certain stuff,
Like startling babies, coffee lids and running around in the buff!
In 2012 Hollywood ran out of ideas making remakes galore,
Including a childhood fave, Total Recall, I fell to the floor!
The big movies of the year brought comic books to life,
Cutting up the box office records like a hot butter knife!
We even had Bond back on his 50th birthday all moody and mean,
Although Bond’s highlight surely was the sketch with the Queen!
The music scene continued to spit all sorts out to make you smile,
I love the one pound fish man and of course Psy’s Gangnam Style!
Emeli Sande seemed to jump on board everything this year,
And Adele just seemed to simply take over the entire Sphere!!
Personally I went to see Noel Gallagher and the High Flying Birds,
It was loud in Newcastle though and I couldn’t hear the words!
I have also had to put up with many a question asked by my kids,
I’ve had enough so I am willing to sell them so get in your bids!
I also have a Grandma that likes to have a bit of banter with me,
But once she starts, there’s no stopping and I have to just flee!
I have a brother that generally ignores me and parents that just tut,
A sister in a law who’s always right and I’m loved less than the mutt!
I have come to the conclusion I have no patience and a short fuse,
This could be the result of the copious amounts of consumed booze.
I think it is better to be in a drunken daze and happy as a result,
I want to cling on to my childhood; I no longer want to be an adult!
As a child nothing really ever bothered me or got me mad,
Now everything pisses me off and irritates me just a tad!
I am surrounded by moaners, prodders, tappers and nags,
There is no wonder that I go through so many packs of fags!
I know I am a little odd with my likes and dislikes and pet hates,
I know people drive me insane like friends, colleagues and housemates!
The lesson is that if you do not know all the above or even just a few
And you have no nuisances in your life then can only mean it’s you!
So that is it from me for 2012, that was the year that was,
And if you didn’t like my blogs or this rhyme review then soz!
I do have the blog bug however and intend to write more,
So do please continue to visit the site, you know the score!
Remember the blogs are intended to make you smile not frown,
So just go click on that shortcut for One by One They All Fall Down!
Wednesday, 12 December 2012
A few weeks ago I posted a blog stating my current top 11 annoyances. I thought this week I would counter balance that by talking about the little things in life that leave a smile on my face or I have to do in order to feel at peace. These are like my little fetishes, not in the same way a guy would spread peanut butter on his nuts, just normal things that leave a warm glow.
As I was compiling my little list, which took a few days, I realised that more of the little things in life annoy me as oppose to please me, which is a worry as I seem to be on a one way road to hell as a grumpy old man!
The list also served the purpose to make me realise I am a little too OCD, more than I imagined!
This isn’t about the actual jar and I am not really a coffee fan, but I do have coffee in the house. The little thing here that gives me a skip in my jump is the foil lid. Or more specifically breaking the foil lid with a teaspoon. It’s the satisfaction of that first hit on the foil when you take the lid off, the pleasure I get from the little popping noise. In fact if I know there’s a new jar of coffee in the house and I am not the one breaking the foil it can really damage my day. Trust me on this, try it next time, just spend a moment with a light jab with the teaspoon onto the foil and just realise how satisfying that really is!
This isn’t a gushy Dad moment here; generally babies do my head in. Other people’s babies do my head in even more. The thing with babies that I used to get a kick out of, but is a little cruel, is blowing air, from my mouth, like you are cooling something down on top of their head. It makes their hair move, if they have any, but it also makes them gasp really loudly and look stunned! Their eyes widen and they stop wiggling for a second trying to contemplate what is going on. They would look stunned! This worked a trick when my two were younger and thoroughly entertained me! I do not know if it works on all babies though. I am not a weirdo going round blowing on random people’s children! Maybe I should have thought this one out before writing it!
Weird Comfort Foods
People have chocolate as a treat or spicy foods every now and again. Me too in fact, I have the Evans sweet tooth that prevents me from walking past a confectionary without dipping in. However, growing up I also liked three other treats that most people wouldn’t entertain. The first is banana sandwiches, I loved them! I know some others that also like them too, but not many. I used to sprinkle a bit of sugar on there also for good measure, then slap between two slices of bread and away I would chomp. The only problem is that it always made my teeth itch afterwards for some strange reason! The second food choice is raw potato. When my Mum was making tea as a youngster I used to nick a few of the chopped potato pieces to crunch on – my Granddad inspired me with this one! When people see this they always seem to mention the high starch content – meh! The third choice would be buttered Weetabix. There was no better way of watching Quantum Leap on an evening as a kid than with two buttered Weetabix!! My idea of heaven back then, putting right what once went wrong with a dry Weetbix for company! As a side note, how good was Quantum Leap?!?!
Whether it is in the car, on my stereo, the TV or the surround sound I have to have the volume set on an even number. If a mate or family member comes in and plays with the TV or car stereo and turns it up or down and leaves it on an odd number and I can see this then it will play on my mind and I won’t truly relax until I can just knock it up or down a notch so that it’s on an even number. I do not know where this comes from or why I am like that, but it really gets to me. In fact it’s that bad that if I am in someone else’s car or house and notice their sound is on an odd number I have had to get up or lean across and change it! I imagine if people that know me read this now they will be knocking it onto an odd number on purpose – please don’t though, I could combust or go on a rampage like Michael Douglas in Falling Down!
Much like my OCD with the volume I am quite superstitious. For example if I see a single magpie I have to salute and spit - and this is awkward in polite company or close quarters like in a car. I just turn, salute and spit. It isn’t a huge gob of spit, it’s more the noise you make, but others don’t necessarily appreciate that you haven’t spat and think the worst of you. My other superstition is when getting ready for football – I have to put on my left shin guard before my right shin guard, my left boot before my right boot, then put my shirt on, then finish off the ensemble with a Chelsea wristband (sweat band type thing, like tennis players wear) and kiss the badge. Totally bizarre, but I have done it for ten years now and if I do not do it in that order, which rarely happens, I have to start again! I used to not "step on a crack and fall and break my back", but avoiding cracks in pavements nowadays is hazardous and can lead to bone breakage so I quit that one a long time ago!
Feet in Bed
I love a warm bed, but the issue with a warm bed is my feet get overly hot. My feet are strange as they are the first thing to get cold but also the first thing to over heat. So in a warm bed I have to find the cold spot with my feet. When they start getting warm again I have to move them to another cold spot or have them stick out the duvet. Then they get too cold and I bring them back under the duvet again, but then they warm up and I have to find a cold spot once again. This can go on for a while and I imagine I am a nightmare to sleep next to! And that’s if I decide to sleep under the covers as even in winter I get too warm and sleep on top of the covers, then wake up in the early hours shaking like a shiting dog because I am cold!
Labels in Underwear
This used to be a big thing for me, not so much now. All labels in underwear as a kid I used to get my Mum to cut out as it irritated the hell out of me – god help her if she put my name label in any of them! If the label was really well sewn in I used to wear my underpants inside out, all day, no matter if I had PE that day or not. It didn’t bother me that people saw the fact I had them inside out as long as I was comfortable. Luckily I have grown out of this or at least bought better quality underwear!
Senior Managers that make brews
There is something hugely satisfying about a senior manager who is making a brew and asks if you want one. For that instance, that tiny nano-second, they are your bitch for a change and loudly and proudly I always say yes. I never waste this opportunity for Senior Management to run around after me. Even if I have had ten cups of tea I will still fit in that extra one, even if I have one on the go I will risk 3rd degree burns and down it in order for a Senior Manager to make me one. It is one of those little things that on the inside I get great satisfaction from.
The Toilet Seat
My best thinking is reserved for the bathroom where I get to sit and ponder, occasionally writing things down or reading stuff online for inspiration. However, before I sit down to think I thoroughly wipe the toilet seat with reams of tissue. Now this isn’t anything unusual when using public toilets, but I have an en-suite bathroom that only I use and yet still do it. It has become a habit, a ritual almost, of my toilet behaviour. It serves several purposes though. Firstly it wipes away any spillages from the previous user. Secondly it takes that little bit of cold off the first time you sit down and finally the tissue can be put down the toilet and prevents any unwanted splash upon entry! You know what I mean. I will move swiftly on now…
Next week will be the last blog of 2012 and I think at this time of year many in the media do a little review of the year. I think I shall work over the next week on my own little review… but I may do it in a rhyme style…
I am now off to kidnap a dwarf and make them butter my Weetabix!!
Wednesday, 5 December 2012
In the age old battle of the sexes there is one major difference, which for me, always stands out. That is the woman’s need, urge and desire to shop.
The word ‘shopping’ is one that is usually met with fear and dread for a man. It isn’t that men don’t like shopping; hell I don’t mind treating myself or others, it is the fact a man usually has a threshold of around 45 minutes of actual shopping pain.
For a man that is enough time to think about what it is you want, go in the direction of that item and pay for that item and be home in time for the afternoon football results. Bish, bash, bosh!
A woman on the other hand will not know what she wants, but know that she needs to go buy it. They set off to the shops, get lost, struggle to park, then spend hours, sometimes days, moving from store to store, trying on every item of clothing and still, occasionally (although rarely), come away having bought bugger all. Or gone for something specific, spent hours in the shops, not actually bought the item she was going for and come home with bags of other crap that wasn’t needed.
I try and do most of my shopping online now. It is simpler, easier and far less stressful. The whole experience of shopping just puts me right off. Especially at this time of year when Christmas is almost upon us and everyone is panic buying or descending all at the same time in the same place.
As you can imagine I have several bug bears when it comes to shopping. This ranges from the people who shop to the actual shop itself.
A few examples are Primark that looks like a jumble sale, everyman for him/her self… Marks and Spencer’s that is full of middle class old people with their food snobbery… Furniture shops that just employ nob head sales assistants who are constantly in your face all the time until you have bought a 3 piece suite that you didn’t need!
I don’t mind catalogue shops, like Argos and Littlewoods, for nostalgic reasons though. As a youngster I was impressed with these magical stores. They provided reams and reams of paper all containing a manner of things, things you didn’t even know existed or think you wanted, but you had to have it. Like an electronic office pitch and putt golf set.
I didn’t have an office, I didn’t play golf, but I had to have one as it returned the ball to you. The magic was there for all to see!
It was a unique experience thumbing through the catalogue as your Mum looked up the vacuum she was after. As a kid you found a catalogue on the counter, shoved your hand to the back and with every ounce of strength lifted the pages, the majority of the book, so that it landed on the back pages. Because as every kid knows the back pages are where the toys are!!
It was a good job the pages were laminated because as a kid you drooled over the latest He-Man figures or Ninja Turtle play sets! Must haves for any aspiring hero child growing up! Oh and just so you know when I played Ninja Turtles with my friends I was always Leonardo! He wore blue, had big fuck off swords and was the leader!
Stores like Argos entertained me as a kid as there was always something to look at, something to do and, in the case of the small pens, something to steal that really wouldn’t be missed!
Other stores do not hold that same love and affection for me though, especially as now I am all grown up… kind of, in actual years anyway, not mentally.
One particular store the very name strikes fear into me. The iconic logo that looks like it is shouting at you. The whole garish colour scheme… Welcome to Hell on Earth… Otherwise known as IKEA!
This is a store I imagine best represents purgatory. I mean any store that gives you a map when you first walk in has to be bad. And yet people flock to this Swedish house of horror for the day out. You walk through one set up after another from kitchens to living rooms to bedrooms and see something that takes your eye…
"I love that bedroom set…"You muse as you note the numbers down and go see an assistant…
"You will find the bed in aisle 6, shelf 14, the mattress in aisle 56, shelf 12 and the springs in aisle 202,456,001 shelf 1… Please order here and then good luck with finding your way out as you are now doomed to spend eternity wandering from department to department… Muhahahahahaha!!!"
You are handed your print out and realise you were served by Ms. Lucy Fur… have a nice day now!
You wander for days and days, through doors that magically appear and take you to another part of this Narnia hell. These shops are like portals to another realm and exits and entrances disappear at will fucking with your fragile mind.
You see things that you would never be interested in before, but you are that delirious that suddenly it seems a good idea at that point. A knife rack that looks like a man is being stabbed – perfect for the kitchen you think… chocolate soup spoons… towels made out of donkey hair… plastic trays that attach to walls… lamps that look like a monkey’s arse along with the extra bulbs as normal UK bulbs do not work in Swedish house appliances. They all go in the trolley as you do not know if you will find your way back to it so it is best to collect it now…
You get to the warehouse and now have the pleasure of picking your own shit off the shelves – at least at Argos they get it for you! There’s a whole host of different colours and you have to make sure you match what is on your receipt. It is no good getting a brown wood chair and a black ash footstool… There is no turning back if you make this mistake, there is no returns policy as no one wants to go through that again once they get to the end so you make do with mismatched furniture.
By the time you get to the checkout, where you have to queue for a further two days, you have lost 3 stone, can barely stand and have more facial growth than your grandma…
That’s why the evil minds behind IKEA put a food outlet at the exit. They know you have been in the store for that many days and spent that much money on worthless crap that they can squeeze an additional fiver out of you for a hotdog. A hotdog that is full of bits that you wouldn’t feed a dog, but at that moment in time it looks like a gourmet meal!! Everyone comes out of the store thinking it is the best hotdog ever and will tell you so, but that is all part of the plan. The robbing Swedish bastards…
IKEA never leaves you, I mean when you get home you’ve got to build the stuff for a start, but the horrors are engrained in the mind. IKEA still haunts my dreams now and the last time I went was 2007!! I would rather go to Guantanamo Bay prison for a holiday with a t-shirt that says "I’ve shagged your Mum" and take my chances than go back to that store.
Some stores I do not mind at all like supermarkets for the food shop. However the problem with supermarkets is that other people exist. And it is other people that piss me off.
I think there should be some law that is introduced that specifies when people of certain age groups can go shopping – a kind of schedule.
My age group, we’ll call it the 25-35 range, know what they want, zip around the aisles and get the job done. And yes I still ride my trolley down the aisles and skid round corners. I love the wind in my hair and the reckless abandonment it gives me!
Then there’s families, who browse, not sure what they want and have their son/daughter slowly adding to the trolley as they go round to which the parental unit has to empty when he/she is not looking. And the vicious circle here continues and so the pace is much slower and god help you if you get caught behind them.
Finally there is the worst group of people. The OAP’s….
I do not have a problem with old people, but I do get slightly angry at old people in supermarkets. There are several reasons for this.
Firstly, there are tons of them, all shuffling around the planet at a pace slower than the evolution of man. They come out in their big thick coats no matter whether it is 100 degrees outside (I live in the UK, so it is never actually likely to reach that temperature!), their fabric shoes that look like slippers and a pull along shopping bag with a brolly attached (you never know when you may get hit by a sudden shower!).
They do not work during the day as they have served their time and are retired and so have a lot of time on their hands. So why, for the love of god, do they insist on going shopping on days when the actual working population have a day off??? Saturday’s usually, or Friday evenings… They have ALL week, during the day to shop and get whatever biscuits they happen to desire that particular week (Oh, there’s a sale on garibaldi’s).
This then moves into my second issue with OAP’s that shop… They stop! Dead! Right in front of you with no warning whatsoever!! They shuffle along and suddenly change direction and walk across you or stop to look at their watch or have a chat with someone with no consideration for anyone else. Before you know it you are up to your arse in Granny! They call the younger generation rude and inconsiderate, but they are the worst culprits!
I have very nearly clubbed grannies to death with my shopping bags because they have put the brakes on for no apparent reason. They usually stop in door ways too for some inexplicable reason!!
JUST GO SHOPPING ON A TUESDAY MORNING!!!!
It drives me completely insane…
So, whichever government makes it illegal for OAP’s to shop on Saturdays and Friday evenings will get my vote and commitment for life.
And if they do not abide by these rules then they get to spend time in a place far worse than prison or an old people’s home… They are sent to IKEA!