Now, I have just been reading back over some old posts there. The last time I was at this blog, I think this iPad hadn't even been invented. I am sure however, that grammar had been. Socrates, or whoever invented the apostrophe might balk at its uses and misuses in these posts.
Anyway, I have learned all about apostrophes in the intervening period, and hopefully any future posts might cause fewer grimaces.
I'm not correcting the old stuff.
Standby for more.
SAm
2014
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
The latest Must have...
I was driving my kids to school this morning when
I saw a jeep with a designer chicken coop on the trailer.
It was like a fancy doghouse but had a little ramp running up to it, and a picture of a chicken on the front in case you still weren't sure.
I couldnt help but smile to myself as I imagined some cash-rich yuppy who was awaiting delivery of such a thing.
Her kiddies, she vowed, would only eat real eggs from real chickens from now on. No more of those eggs that they made in factories from nuclear waste and E-numbers.
And I remembered cleaning a chicken house for a neighbour as a young lad. I rememebered the filth. Hens are dirty little fuckers. They shit everywhere.
So why go through the pain of keepin Chickens/hens yourself when You can buy a dozen free-range hens eggs for about four quid from the supermarket. . I wonder how long it is before Ms Happy-Clappy is ordering a skip and a meat cleaver,
..and of course the power washer.
I saw a jeep with a designer chicken coop on the trailer.
It was like a fancy doghouse but had a little ramp running up to it, and a picture of a chicken on the front in case you still weren't sure.
I couldnt help but smile to myself as I imagined some cash-rich yuppy who was awaiting delivery of such a thing.
Her kiddies, she vowed, would only eat real eggs from real chickens from now on. No more of those eggs that they made in factories from nuclear waste and E-numbers.
And I remembered cleaning a chicken house for a neighbour as a young lad. I rememebered the filth. Hens are dirty little fuckers. They shit everywhere.
So why go through the pain of keepin Chickens/hens yourself when You can buy a dozen free-range hens eggs for about four quid from the supermarket. . I wonder how long it is before Ms Happy-Clappy is ordering a skip and a meat cleaver,
..and of course the power washer.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Idiot baiting
One wonders about the general fairness of the world. When poor dumb coutry folk decide to entertain themselves with a bit of badger baiting, stag stalking or even
hare hunting it is immediately banned. It is then down to some thin, silver-haired people with grey skin, who are rotting in some office somewhere in the capital, to dream up some severe punishments for any people who decide that its fun or entertaining to mete out cruelty to dumb animals.
Yet when ITV pay somebody millions of pounds to do it to human beings on a saturday night it is deemed OK, the putrescent pencil pushers stand by. Simon Cowel Bullies people who look like they have been bullied their whole lives, while the world watches. They come on and do their bit, be it british talent or The X factor that they claim to possess. Many people lack talent it would seem. Outstanding talent that people will pay to witness is rare, but folks who are willing to go on tv and make fools of themselves are plentiful.
The slimy, sneering Cowel goes into overdrive when the particularly deluded come on stage. He loves to belittle them, the irony of his own absent talent lost on everybody it seems. Instead of professionally and straight-forwardly telling these kids that they are deluded and talentless he turns it into a baiting session, sneering and making fun of them, like a small child pulling the legs from a Gnat.
He talks of one trick ponies but never alludes to his one and only trick. He does it every week with every comment. He points out the bad points of an act and, booooooo...
booooo...
We think he is going to vote someone off....
booooo...
He says he has saw it all before....
bbboooooooooo....
However...
you brought something new......blah...fucking blah
Yes we all thought you hated it. But you tricked us. How foolish we are to have fallen for it again considering you have about 5 different variations of this show on every year and you are a judge on all of them and you use that trick every time...
And everyone loves it. What can we call this sport I wonder? Where a vain sleaseball belittles people who would have been better off born a badger, or maybe a stag.
Well at least then they might have gotten some?
hare hunting it is immediately banned. It is then down to some thin, silver-haired people with grey skin, who are rotting in some office somewhere in the capital, to dream up some severe punishments for any people who decide that its fun or entertaining to mete out cruelty to dumb animals.
Yet when ITV pay somebody millions of pounds to do it to human beings on a saturday night it is deemed OK, the putrescent pencil pushers stand by. Simon Cowel Bullies people who look like they have been bullied their whole lives, while the world watches. They come on and do their bit, be it british talent or The X factor that they claim to possess. Many people lack talent it would seem. Outstanding talent that people will pay to witness is rare, but folks who are willing to go on tv and make fools of themselves are plentiful.
The slimy, sneering Cowel goes into overdrive when the particularly deluded come on stage. He loves to belittle them, the irony of his own absent talent lost on everybody it seems. Instead of professionally and straight-forwardly telling these kids that they are deluded and talentless he turns it into a baiting session, sneering and making fun of them, like a small child pulling the legs from a Gnat.
He talks of one trick ponies but never alludes to his one and only trick. He does it every week with every comment. He points out the bad points of an act and, booooooo...
booooo...
We think he is going to vote someone off....
booooo...
He says he has saw it all before....
bbboooooooooo....
However...
you brought something new......blah...fucking blah
Yes we all thought you hated it. But you tricked us. How foolish we are to have fallen for it again considering you have about 5 different variations of this show on every year and you are a judge on all of them and you use that trick every time...
And everyone loves it. What can we call this sport I wonder? Where a vain sleaseball belittles people who would have been better off born a badger, or maybe a stag.
Well at least then they might have gotten some?
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
GrooveShark
This website is quite simply groovy.
You can find all sorts of music which you can stream live and listen to with out
having to pay.
OK, so maybe some of you dont pay for music nowadays anyway. But it might come in handy in the coming years when the record companies are breaking down your doors and dragging you off to break rocks in some hot desert dressed in pink jump-suits while hill-billies in khaki shirts and aviator shades ride round you on horseback with shot guns and little match sticks in the corner of their mouths....
Well I am told by my source that its legal anyway.
Enjoy it while it lasts...
Grooveshark
You can find all sorts of music which you can stream live and listen to with out
having to pay.
OK, so maybe some of you dont pay for music nowadays anyway. But it might come in handy in the coming years when the record companies are breaking down your doors and dragging you off to break rocks in some hot desert dressed in pink jump-suits while hill-billies in khaki shirts and aviator shades ride round you on horseback with shot guns and little match sticks in the corner of their mouths....
Well I am told by my source that its legal anyway.
Enjoy it while it lasts...
Grooveshark
Monday, April 19, 2010
Volcano exposed!
This little pic caught my attention on Engrish this morning.
The "exposed" volcano in Iceland is causing havoc all over the world.
If you want to see more funny Engrish see the links on the blogroll yonder..
Friday, April 16, 2010
A celebrity online encounter
I just spoke to the Jonas Brothers.
OK. So I need to explain.
Twenty Major told us about Chat Roulette. So I logged onto it for the laugh.
But I got nowhere. So I tried the other version, shuffle something or other. I got the usual stream of men pulling their willies and young ladies grimacing and clicking next.
But all of a sudden I got these three young lads who had no sound only text. ( but they could hear me) They asked me if I had heard of the Jonas Bros. I said I had.
I then pulled a picture of them from the net and realised it was them to whom I was speaking. Nice guys. It was mildly exciting.
So there you go, my celebrity experience....
OK. So I need to explain.
Twenty Major told us about Chat Roulette. So I logged onto it for the laugh.
But I got nowhere. So I tried the other version, shuffle something or other. I got the usual stream of men pulling their willies and young ladies grimacing and clicking next.
But all of a sudden I got these three young lads who had no sound only text. ( but they could hear me) They asked me if I had heard of the Jonas Bros. I said I had.
I then pulled a picture of them from the net and realised it was them to whom I was speaking. Nice guys. It was mildly exciting.
So there you go, my celebrity experience....
Friday, March 26, 2010
Bring on the fear
You wake up suddenly and without warning. There has been no nice warm-up dreams about drinking bottles of gin that taste like chocolate milkshake or swimming comfortably and very warmly in a large pool of icy cool 7up.
The dreams of a normal hangover.
You are just awake.
The natural side effects of alcohol excess are evident. A feeling of your brain being shrinked violently inside your head, the burning in your chest from one after the other cigarettes. Dryness in your throat. Sometimes shaking. But always the fear. An immediate, illogical feeling of dread. It's like your brain knows something you don't, something terrible. A feeling like you are in great danger, or have done something awful. The fear. You immediately begin to counsel yourself, convince yourself there is no need for this fear. You begin to call up memories from the previous night and nothing bad springs to mind, yet still the feelings persist.
What is this sheer anxietey? Will anything cure it? More booze? Probably, but it's not an option as you have to function today, and you're not sure your body can ingest any substances at the moment. You just want to gag.
You tell yourself, it's the fear. It will pass. You try to convince yourself that you have no need for anxiety. But still it persists. You know there is no cure, you will just have to ride it out.
You are warm in your bed, and you curl up tighter in the sheets and flip your pillow over to the cold side and fight to sleep...
When it comes it is soothing. Each time you wake the fear is weakened. When you do get up and do what you have to do, this fear will come with you flashing in and out slowly.
Eventually it passes. You don't always get answers, sometimes there are no answers...
sometimes it just decides to stalk you...
Its all of course a trick. A trick by your body. It wants the booze again. It wants the warm and safe feeling again... so it tries to frighten you, with the fear..
tries to get you back there again...
And it usually works.
I have not had a drink for six weeks. (As a devout Catholic)
The fear at some stage over Easter weekend will be staggering...
I'm looking forward to it...
Might go to Limerick and do it on Good Friday...
Catch a Rubber bandits gig..
wooha..
Cant wait
The dreams of a normal hangover.
You are just awake.
The natural side effects of alcohol excess are evident. A feeling of your brain being shrinked violently inside your head, the burning in your chest from one after the other cigarettes. Dryness in your throat. Sometimes shaking. But always the fear. An immediate, illogical feeling of dread. It's like your brain knows something you don't, something terrible. A feeling like you are in great danger, or have done something awful. The fear. You immediately begin to counsel yourself, convince yourself there is no need for this fear. You begin to call up memories from the previous night and nothing bad springs to mind, yet still the feelings persist.
What is this sheer anxietey? Will anything cure it? More booze? Probably, but it's not an option as you have to function today, and you're not sure your body can ingest any substances at the moment. You just want to gag.
You tell yourself, it's the fear. It will pass. You try to convince yourself that you have no need for anxiety. But still it persists. You know there is no cure, you will just have to ride it out.
You are warm in your bed, and you curl up tighter in the sheets and flip your pillow over to the cold side and fight to sleep...
When it comes it is soothing. Each time you wake the fear is weakened. When you do get up and do what you have to do, this fear will come with you flashing in and out slowly.
Eventually it passes. You don't always get answers, sometimes there are no answers...
sometimes it just decides to stalk you...
Its all of course a trick. A trick by your body. It wants the booze again. It wants the warm and safe feeling again... so it tries to frighten you, with the fear..
tries to get you back there again...
And it usually works.
I have not had a drink for six weeks. (As a devout Catholic)
The fear at some stage over Easter weekend will be staggering...
I'm looking forward to it...
Might go to Limerick and do it on Good Friday...
Catch a Rubber bandits gig..
wooha..
Cant wait
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