Sunday, 25 May 2008

While I'm on the subject of Chelsea...

Of course most people will have seen this by now but I like the yellow in contrast to the blue on this page:

And if anyone thinks I'm being mean then read this:

I know it's from the Daily Mail but they have worked hard to evidence their claims and I don't see a retort from Terry's agent or, indeed, from his mum. It basically says he parked his big flashy car in a disabled spot for two hours so he could go for a pizza. Arrogant SOB is learning what karma feels like this week. Arrogance will be punished! (for evidence see Ronaldo's missed penalty in same game)


My grandad has supported chelsea all his life. Of course I want him to be happy but I was pleased when John Terry fluffed that penalty in the champ league final on Wednesday. I was pleased too when Drogba got sent off for being a spoilt baby. This isn't because of the rivalry or because:

  • Chelsea are Spurs' second biggest rivals after Ar5ena1
  • Drogba is a cheat
  • it's funny seeing a bloke on 70k a week blub his eyes out wondering why no-one feels sorry for him
  • they have bought recent success
  • their supporters were disgraceful in the Carling Cup, leaving before the end and not making a noise even when 1-0 up
  • I know an ex Blackburn "fan" who has metamorphasised into a a "die hard" Chelsea "fan" coincidentally as Blackburn became shite and Chelsea became good.
Nope, it's because a significant minority are like this bloke:

They have a Jewish owner and, until about 24 hours ago a Jewish coach. Still they didn't see the irony of taunting Spurs with anti semitic chants and this kind of Nazi stuff. The girl in the picture will grow up to be an ignorant snarling chav and the world will continue to be a miserable place. Knowing that this bloke was pissed off on Feb 24th and last Wednesday night makes me feel a bit better about that.
Knowing that there is no-one more decent on this planet than my grandad, that he was part of the fight against Nazism and that he'll have appreciated a good match gives me even more hope.

Fish skeleton

Barring global thermo nuclear war or total collapse of the world economy (neither of which are that unlikely I guess) I am never likely to commune with nature to the point that I am obliged to hunt and prepare the food that I eat. Mr Tesco does more than an adequate job of that thank you very much. But I did buy some mackerel the other day that actually still looked like what it did when it was alive. Except it didn't have a head. I cooked it and on opening it I was actually shocked to find it had a skeleton inside. My fish fingers never had mini fish phalanges or carp carpels. I had experienced bones of course but these were arranged randomly and discretely so as to inflict damage on all those eating with knives and forks rather than tweezers and scalpel. At my age I realise that this is probably a bit embarrassing but I still wanted to share my surprise. I even took a photo of it as a memento. The fish was nice.

Surreal toon

I saw this plaque on the ground when I was in Newcastle last week. Extensive searching eventually found the following newspaper article which, frankly, doesn't shed much light on it. To the shirt sleeve and short skirt stereotype I wish to add the following: People in Newcastle are weirdos.

Northern culture

There are the obvious quirks of northern life familiar to most because of representations on hilarious and much loved soaps and comedies on TV. Who can forget the aged yet cheeky antics of the chaps in Last of the summer wine? Large pinches of salt were needed up here when arrogant southerners accused all and sundry of being flat cap wearing pigeon and ferret lovers. Yesterday though we witnessed a phenomenon in Halifax that disturbed a lot more than it entertained and supplied serious ammunition to those all too ready to malign aspects of life in the north (i.e me). On a slight slope in the centre of town were a group of the most miserable looking marching troop. Bedecked in blue uniforms, topped off with feather dusters from the pound store, this bunch marched around to the the tune of plastic trumpets out of Christmas crackers and someone with some grease proof paper wrapped around a comb. It would have been OK if they'd looked like they were enjoying it but they all seemed utterly miserable. When they put their batons on the ground for a bit of really complex marching, the batons started rolling down the slope. The weirdest bit though was when they all did what can only be described as a fascist salute. What the heck was that all about? I was going to put a shilling in their pot until this point.

Mind you, if they are the new face of British Fascism then I don't think we have much to worry about.

Sunday, 18 May 2008

Sales pitch

Berba selling something. Probably his last appearance on here. I'm guessing S will like this. There's a lot of talk about Eto'o coming to Spurs. he'll have to be damn good to be as good as Berba.

Saturday, 17 May 2008


I may or may not be related to one or more of the people in this video. Still, it's nice they get let out from time to time. In fact I and the boy have one of these things each. I thought it'd be easy to do what they're all doing in this vid but I can't even strum. It's much harder than it looks. I wanted to be like the German guy with Will Smith in the second video but I may have to forever remain the kid at the back of music class with a glockenspiel or a triangle, feilding withering looks from Miss Olmaid because of my utter ineptitude.

Don't worry that some of it is in German.

Thursday, 15 May 2008


I managed to get hold of an old Playstation 1 demo disk this week off e bay. On it are 20 games made by amateur programming nerds. One of them is the brilliant 'Pushy II'. It's a very addictive ball and box sliding puzzle. I'm stuck on the level above. The idea is that you have to use the pink guy (which you can move anywhere) to go behind the balls and push them on to the white crosses. The trouble is though that the balls only stop when they hit something- in this case the walls or the grey squares. I asked my girl to help but she keeps making excuses. If you can work it out, please tell me in a comment. The game's similar to to sokoban which you can play here (if you can be arsed!)

Free Online Flash Games

Brian is also Brianetta

My girl called me as she left work today to tell me that there was a giant snail blocking her way. In my mind I envisaged a grotesque doctor whoesque gastropod as she insisted it was as big as her. Now she's not exactly a giant herself and, to be absolutely clear, there's nothing grotesque or doctor whoesque about her but I thought it was stretching it. She sent me the picture below (the first one). I said that it was difficult to judge scale without a frame of reference. She said that it was OK because she would go back tomorrow and get another picture with her in it.

Anyway, she asked if her snail could feature here so I said yes. Then I thought it'd be interesting to read about snails. That's why I know they're gastropods. I skim read a few interesting things about diet and lifespan then saw the following picture. I learnt from this that snails have both penis and vagina. I don't know why it's interesting; probably because I anthropomorphise everything. Just ask Trevor, my girl's car.

Snail's are actually brilliant when you think about it. Just look at where this guy's/girl's eyes are and where his/ her anus is. They only have one foot though. In my view this is why they can't walk very fast.

Friday, 9 May 2008

Baby food

I didn't see it but this was doing the rounds on e mail saying these babies are made from marzipan. I don't know why someone would pretend that they were marzipan. They're still amazing little sculptures. I wouldn't have one though: apart form the size, they're too realistic. I'm pretty sure real babies are bigger than that. There are more pictures here .

I know this is a bit random but I was bored and saw it on the hoax busting site.

Back seat drover

I have a thing about cows; they freak me out by staring at me when I walk past. It's like they're just pretending to be thick while they bide their time and wait for the day they can conquer the Earth. One of the blogs on the Spurs forum (you can tell it's end of season) posted this today. pparently the car pulled up next to him at a petrol station. You can only see one here but in other pictures you can see there are two cows in the back seat of this car. So cool. Puns on a post card please.

Thursday, 8 May 2008

Luca Modric

On this evidence, looks like he's pretty good. Will be interesting seeing him bossing the midfield next season, especially if Spurs can get hold of Diarra to go with him. The posing stuff at the start of this compilation suggests he might be 'one for the ladies'.

(apologies to Suzanne Vega- no relation to Ramon I think)

His name is Luca /He probably doesn't live on the second floor/he probably lives in a better house than you/Yes, I think you've seen him before/If you hear something Saturday afternoon/ Some kind of trouble/Some kind of fight/Just don't ask me what it was- cos it was Luca putting another one past the scum!

My guess is that my reworking will not catch on as a chant next season.

New Kit

Of course it's a rip off and all that but the new kit's bit of trim adds a certain je ne sais quoi to the home shirt and the stripey socks add a touch of the Bertie Bassett. Apart from that, all I can say is Bleuuuurrrghhh. The light blue looks like a pair of old lady pyjamas and the stupid brown is back. We won't win anything wearing chocolate, AKA shite, brown. They've condemned us to another shocking season away from home.

I did a quick search for photos of it and the first picture below with Woody, Keano and Jenas isn't too bad. Except that Jenas is in it at all. (Berba conspicuous by his absence I think). The second photo scared the crap out of me. I mean, I know Robbie Keane came to us from Leprechaun United but the guy with the giant head looks ill. He is supposedly a hot prospect- Tomas Peckhart. I don't mean to be unkind but he looks like his neck'll snap if he runs too fast.

The only good thing about all this is that for once I am not feeling at all confident about next season. Much less chance of the same bitter disappointments that way.

Berba's last game?

I saw Martin Jol's last game this season (seems like years ago now) and the thought of the whole stadium singing : 'stand up for Martin Jol' still brings a tear to my eye. I wonder what it'll be like on Sunday. All the huffing and puffing, sulking and conniving has left a lot of Spurs fans irritated with Berba. Even so, there's no denying he has a masterful touch. One of the only chants my girl joins in is 'DI-MI-TAR BERBATOV' though it's more like dimitar berbatov as she's a bit shy. I suspect that it's as much his Draculian good looks as much as his dexterous feet mind you. So...probably for the last's a picture of Berba at his best (I am guessing). Sullen, broody and advertising a children's charity. What more could a girl want? A bit of bloody loyalty, that's what.

Marca: Eto'o al Tottenham per 35 milioni di euro


Secondo quanto racconta Marca, Tottenham e Barcellona si starebbero accordando per il trasferimento agli Spurs di Samuel Eto'o. La trattativa per l'attaccante camerunense sarebbe giĆ  stata aperta, ed i negoziati comincerebbero sulla base dei 35 milioni di euro richiesti dagli azulgrana.

According to my online translator this means:

According to how much it tells Marks (Marca- Spanish sports paper), Tottenham and Barcelona would be being been coming to an agreement for the transfer to the Spurs di Samuel Eto' or. The negotiation for the forward camerunense already would have been opened, and it negotiates to you would begin on the base of 35 million euro demands from the azulgrana.

My guess is that's bullshit in any language. It also means that we have a long way to go before machines replace humans in the translation business.

Monday, 5 May 2008

Far out

I had intended spending the whole weekend at home working. Thank God I didn't. If I had I'd have missed the festival in Bishop's Stortford. (I know that sounds sarky but I had a brilliant day yesterday). In the old days I'd have been happy stomping through mud amongst thousands of people at bigger festivals. That's not me any more. The lower key but still impressive folky, jazzy, bluesy, other stuff-y two day event was just right for chatting, chilling and laughing. You could even listen to music if you wanted. There was some good blues and the folk band you can hear in this clip almost made me jig about in an ungainly fashion.

I was surprised at the number of (apparent) hippies in this middle England town. I'm guessing that all the solicitors, teachers and the like have one hemp jumper at the back of the wardrobe and one set of beads that they can fling on for such an event. Or maybe I'm being cynical. Perhaps I should open my eyes more on normal days and see the real people man. See them for what they are; not what the world wants them to be. Yeah.

Anyhow, the people that organised it (whoever they may be) must surely be young, trendy, finger on the pulse types to pull something like this off in what I always considered to be a bit of town for squares. We are proud of you.

Thursday, 1 May 2008


When I was a kid my mates and I would constantly say things like: 'urrgh you stink' to each other. It's that much more surprising then that we're so inhibited by niceness that we rarely find the courage to tell people the same as adults. Chances are that when a kid tells someone that they smell funny it's not true. With adults it's almost the opposite. I once worked with a bloke who had excruciatingly repellent breath. Probably he'd got used to it or never knew. We complained to each other behind his back, left polo mints lying around and only talked to him from across the room or from behind a hand that was positioned to suggest pensiveness but we never took him to one side and said :'Look Bob, your gob smells like my dog's arse'. (but in a nice way)

The reason I mention it is because one of the people at my work always smells badly of fish. What do you do? I don't have an answer but feel like I should have one. Is it better to put up with it, cringing each time you see another person crease up their noses or to take them to one side and ask them if their shower is broken?

This website: offers an anonymous e mail service to inform colleagues of breath and body odour problems and have nasty and friendly versions. I think if received one of these I'd never go to work again.

I looked for etiquette advice and the best there seems to be for bad breath is to have a mint yourself then offer one to the offender. Supposedly they wouldn't know if you were just being friendly or maybe flagging up a problem. Somehow I don't think that walking up the fishy person with a bar of soap and saying: 'I'm just having a shower....' would get me anything but the sack. (from both work and my girl)