It wasn’t until I logged on to write this post that I realised that it is my 150th, so all the more reason to make it a bumper installment. I’ve had quite a busy week so i’ve got plenty of gripes and swipes to make this a lengthy edition… We’ll start with everyone’s favourite subject, alcohol!
Cider has developed a pretty bad reputation over the last 20 years or so, the chosen poison for the extreme lower classes, homeless and dependants alike. But in the last three years, the best bi-product of the apple has had an image boost, firstly from the likes of Magners and Bulmers who had regulars drinking cider from pint glasses with ice rather than from a three-litre plastic bottle in the park. Strongbow even straightened up their act on the back of this and rebranded with some snazzy advertising, and now with the likes of Kopparberg throwing all kinds of fruity flavours into the mix, the street-cred of cider is at an all-time high…
- So drunk that they spelled it wrong…
Until April of this year. Piggy-backing on the cider company’s hard work to rejuvenate their image, Stella Artois has brought its wife-beating reputation to the table with the release of Stella Cidre, which i’d imagine makes you want to beat your wife AND your mother-in-law as well. Cider has to go back to the drawing board. Well done Stella, 20 years hard work wasted. I bet Scrumpy Jack is turning in his grave…
Time for a quiz question now, multiple choice in fact. You are driving down a road at 50mph. The speed limit is 60mph. You see a speed camera ahead. Do you a) maintain the same speed b) slow down to 40mph ”just in case” or c) pull over and GET OUT OF MY FUCKING WAY!
- “Gotcha you mother-humper!”
Dear Bruno Mars, you are a liar. You have not done nothing all day as your “lazy song” suggests. You have been listening to Jack Johnson and Jason Mraz on repeat since you woke up. And then you wrote a song based on what you heard. Go away and try harder, regards, me, p.s you’re a dick…
And just while i’m on music, although it would appear that Will.i.am is at the head of the Black Eyed Peas, I have a different opinion on the situation. He is more like the Ringo Star. Fergie and the other two had planned a beautiful cover of “The Time” but Will kicked up a stink because he wasn’t allowed to play with his AutoTune on the song. So they have him 30 seconds in the middle of the song to “do his thang”… DIRTY BIT! Ruined the whole thing…
- “i spilled korma on my white jacket… DIRTY BIT!”
A few weeks later, in the studio again, Fergie and the other two were making a nice r’n'b lovey-dovey song called “Just can’t get enough”. Again, with no need for AutoTune, Will got his knickers is a twist and, after learning their lesson from last time after he ruined the middle of the song, they gave him the last minute this time to SWITCH UP! and that way, make sure listeners could enjoy at least the first 2.30mins of their song. Basically, Will.i.am should just go away… forever…
Enough of music, films next. I think this is the only non-negative point in this post. 52 days until Transformers: Dark of the Moon. That is an awful long time for me to maintain an erection. There is one man and one man only that can make me horny and that is Michael Bay. Back to regular moaning…
"and a bit of eye candy in the background for good measure..."
Saw the trailer for Priest this week. I can’t tell if its a ”not really a sequel but kind of is a sequel” to the Da Vinci Code or if Paul Bettany is so short of work that he has already been type-cast to play a grouchy assassin vicar for the rest of his life?
- Bettany’s Neo impression was shit…
And to finish on films, it was May the 4th this week which has become better known as “Star Wars Day” after the immortal phrase “May the 4th be with you…” I like Star Wars, I like what it stands for and the story that it paints. But is a 35 year old play-on-words really the best way to honour such an amazing piece of cinematography?
- “May the 4th be… Rory McIlroy’s birthday!”
I’ll finish up entertainment (in the very loosest sense of the term) with what seems to count as reality tv in the absence of Big Brother. Anyone who I spend any real time with doesn’t even have the words The Hills or Jersey Shore in their vocabulary, for one very simple reason…
Watching brainless bell-ends act worse than the most pompous prick you could wish to meet is not something that is worth their time. But for some god-awful reason, UK tv producers have decided that we need The Only Way Is Essex, Made in Chelsea and now Geordie Shore to match up with the US equivalents. Why not just have half-hour shows of people shouting “look at how much of a FUCKING MASSIVE COCK I can make everyone else who is from Chelsea, Essex and Newcastle look!” Fuckery of the very highest calibre…
I was walking through Leeds the other day after H&M had just put their summer collection in the window. For men this season, white linen EVERYTHING and mainly in suit form. Had to pop in just to check my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me and I thought i’d entered the walk-in closet of a bad guy from Miami Vice, and not the cool version with Colin Farrell and Jamie Foxx, the not cool 70s version with nothing cool in it. This will be the sixth year in a row I will be in jeans and a plain tshirt…
- Epitomy of Coolness… oh wait, typo, Cool-less…
And the power of fashion reared its head this week. I am old enough to remember when you wanted to get into a nightclub, you had to be wearing trousers, absolutely no jeans allowed. But the power of fashion now means you can get in wearing jogging bottoms and an undervest…
And in a slightly more serious but very similar situation, the PM and his missus rocked up to the Royal Wedding both hatless, which by regal standards, is an uber no-no. Fashion taking over tradition yet again… I wonder how long it will be until “rock out with your cock out” becomes a literal fashion term…
I’ve talked about the weather before and people’s ridiculous over-reaction to it, but another recent stint of rain has meant the douches are out again, so here is a subtle suggestion/warning. They are called golf umbrellas for a reason. You have the width of a golf course to unleash them. So if you are a four foot woman with an eight foot brolly on a six foot path… all you are going to do is take people’s eyes out… and its barely spitting… and the rain will give your dirty face the wash that it needs… sort your shit out…
- “IT’S SPITTING! Get inside! Save yourselves!”
Last time I checked, advertising was supposed to make people want to buy/use your products, right? So why the fuckery is that twatting Meerkat and that opera singer that the whole world would like to silence on tv? They make me want to NOT use their services in case I have to put up with them on their websites as well! And when I talk about it with other people, i’ve never heard a different opinion…
- Go Fuck Off and Die… horribly…
And i’ll finish with customer service, and this has happened twice to me recently. A twitter companion set to complaining about BT’s dire service, and having been on the end of it myself, I weighed in as well. BT then replied offering assistance to our complaints. Well, if your “out-sourced” customer service team knew enough english past the limited script you supply them, then you wouldn’t need to troll social network sites to find disgruntled customers. The only thing British about British Telecom is their customer’s amazing ability to queue politely for a long time. SwiftCover, that goes for you too, employ dicks, get dicks…
- “TERMINATING THE CALL!”
Oh, and it was my cat’s second birthday this week, so… many happy returns to Dizzee (Rascal) and (Driving Miss) Daisy, two years young!
Happy Birthday!
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