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Posts archive for: April, 2008
  • Liverpool Don't Win Again Shock !

    I have to say the unspeakable sayeth-not thingy...

    Maybe it's Raffa who isn't up for the job ?

    The Mighty Reds are not looking very mighty any more, and OK fair enough Chelsea were the better team on the night... but they needn't have been.

    What was Riise doing on the pitch in the first place ?

    Where again was the mayfly Crouch, who should have been in the goalmouth waiting to deliver killer headers with the few opportunities offered ?

    Why was Torres taken off for a 'ham-string injury' that nobody else was aware of, including Torres ?

    That said, Drogba played like a bastard and not the whinging little pantomime-dame he did in the first-leg

    Both Terry and Gerrard were awfully quiet.

    Liverpool sometimes have to have their gobs sewn up and their shoelaces tied together for their own good...but there is something so not right about the team at the moment.

    Perhaps they will never again play the beautiful long game... but they should be allowed to be messy and intuitive on the pitch ... we used to have an insanely burning desire to win

    Raffa ties them down too much and puts lead in their boots.

    Man of the match... Reina.

  • Death or Gory Boys

    Bullfighting guide 'The Bulletpoint Bullfight' warns that bullfighting is not for the squeeeeeeamish...

    Bullfighting is seen as a symbol of Spanish culture.

    There you go then Francophiles...

    Right back at you !!!

    ATT339864

    Spanish-style bullfighting is normally fatal for the bull, and it is very dangerous for the matador.

    Ernest Hemingway (Mr Normal) said of it in his 1932 non-fiction book Death in the Afternoon:

    "Bullfighting is the only art in which the artist is in danger of death and in which the degree of brilliance in the performance is left to the fighter's honour."

    Occasionally, if the bull has fought bravely, and by petition of the public or the matador, the president of the plaza may grant the bull an indulto. This is when the bull’s life is spared and it is allowed to leave the ring alive and return to the ranch where it came from.

    However, few bulls survive the trip back to the ranch. With no veterinarian services at the plaza, most bulls die either while awaiting transportation or days later. Death is due to dehydration, infection of the wounds and loss of blood sustained during the fight.

    Can I tempt anyone to bread and circuses ?

    Go on...Go on...just a little one

    If I cut the bloody crusts off ?

    Make mine a vanilla-slice and footy anyday.

    Talk about penis-envy.

    'Oi !... you, yes you...Macho Bollix !...

    Dare you to wear those pink satin figure-controlling duds to the local pub, you murdering narcissistic slaaag ...

    Hold your wrist out...

    *slap*

  • No Comply

    Oh, what a tangled web we weave
    When first we practice to deceive
    We started young, no thought of it
    And now we're wholly full of shit.
    They have their place and I have mine
    But mine is shit and their's divine.
    They are writing massage-memoirs
    While we are working Abba-ttoirs
    Can you hear the dance Fernando ?
    Was it worth your life, commando ?
    Priests and polititicians lie
    Forgive us if we don't comply.

  • The in Significance of Dreams

    Look Dream...I have to tell you...

    Just because I lend you head and we sleep in the same bed...

    It's not like we're married...

    You don't own me !

  • Clackers

    fads_Clackers(Losangelesphilip)(180)

    Clackers in the 70s were the best... 2 quite hefty plastic balls on loose strings attached to a tab.

    The objective was to get the balls into a gentle occillating rhythm, clacking them together slowly at first, then with increaing speed and force until you could make the leap of faith and whack them so hard that they defied gravity and met above your wrist, then up and down they'd go in a crescendo of noise that sounded like a castrato navvy's road drill.

    You'd keep this going until you felt gravity was getting the better of you, then bring them back to a controlled slow clack, keeping the strings taught at all times.

    If the strings slackened the balls would crash down ferociously onto your carpo-metacarpals, requiring bandages and splints to be worn as an ambiguous badge of honour to school, indicating that you had faught valiantly in the field but had been ultimately overwhelmed by the odds.

    Then they went and replaced the strings with rigid plastic, enabling any Jenny-come-lately to indulge in the benefits of round-the-clock clacking without exposure to any of the risks, and everybody lost interest and resorted to cosh pop-socks instead.

    It was a big girl thing... a rite of passage that passed the time during that long, slow year that fell between hop-scotch and binge-drinking

  • Thumbelina Has A Perfectly Fine Night Out

    Well, how sweet...

    Dinner in a restaurant by invitation of the co-owner

    What could possibly go wrong ?...

    (jd.chaosincarnate.com will fill you in...)

    I had another Terry Waite/Thumbelina moment there.

    It wasn't exactly handbags at midnight.

    Anyhooo...

    Some people in the business community are just so touchy...

    It makes I larrf ! (quite a lot as I recall...)

    (And I got the darlingest tiniest salt and pepper cruets you have ever seen !)

    Somehow...

    They are ultra-itzy and if you tap then together they sound exactly like 70's clackers...

    I'm clacking them now...can you hear them ?

    And that's what counts.

  • We Are Spammerly ,,,( I Got All My Sisters Wi' Me !)

    Apparently we are SPAM...the trailer trash of the Blog community...

    (According to Yahoo and AOL and other Playground Bullies ).

    I hope it gets sorted...

    Otherwise we'll all end up tits-up on Facebook or HolyMoly !!!

    Nooo!!!!

    Nooooooo!!!!

    Noooooooooo!!!

    That was me throwing myself under a lead balloon by the way

    BTW....

    (You wait for one, then three come along at once ...)

  • The M-admen Cometh

    I tried to post the graphics...but look at this logo for OGC anyway !!!

    http://timesonline.typepad.com/comment/2008/04/the-original-lo.html

    And they try so hard...

    Bless !!

  • Mr Ed ( Balls )

    Mr-Ed-The-Talking-Horse-Balls is 'disappointed' that members of the NUT will be walking instead of talking on Thursday.

    Is that 'disappointed ' as in :

    ' Clear your desk , Bollix ' ?

    (With apologies to........

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLR4iZJLgc4

    ....who earned our undying respect for never speaking unless he had something to say ).

  • Sing Hosannas !

    Now that woodcarving and chisels season has come to an end, I have joined a choir.

    I will lift up mine voice and sing Hosanna ! and selected highlights from Les Miserables, and what I lack in skill I shall make up for with unbridled enthusiasm, because bellowing is good for the soul and I can practice and hoover at the same time.

    Some years ago we took the kids to listen to a choral rendition of Joseph and his Technicolour Dreamcoat.

    It went on for a aeons, and every time it looked like it was over they took another deep breath and piped up again. It was Hammer House of Horror material...They were the Choir Who Would Not Stop....

    Until Firstborn slid down his seat in utter despair, shook his fist at the ceiling and howled

    'CURSE THEIR HEAVENLY SINGING'

    Now that really was a showstopper !

  • Time-Team in Liverpool

    This Monday I shall mostly be wearing this :

    http://link.brightcove.com/services/link/bcpid1156034640/bctid1496340218

    Phwooooarrr!!

    Gerraloada that !

    I hope they mention that this is also where slavery came to an end via the Rathbones, and where the Irish found a home during the famine, and where Leverhume worked his nuts off to create good labour-relations, and where the tunnels were dug by Napoleonic veterans for no reason other than for Williamson to give them a wage.....

    When I was a tot going over on the ferry, my cousin told me that the Liver Birds were the pickled remains of the last surviving real ones... because they were both boys and couldn't mate

    What a cow!

    In real life, one looks over the city and one looks out to sea for the returning sailors.

    It's unrelated, but what do you think about Liverpool being 'Self Pity City'?

    Despite, well..

    Everything.

  • Saving The World Part 5

    Civilisations have only to get three things right.

    To parent well and to teach well and to work well.

    Then day will surely follow night...

    We should all get to do what we're good at and what is valued by society (that's us, by the way) whether it's minister for schools, tailor, soldier, sailor, doctor, bin-collector or Indian Chief.

    It's how we spend the majority of our adult lives after all, and I hate to think those years have been pissed up against the wall. (Although I'm so glad my youth was.)

    I 'umbly accept a general criteria of accountability in all areas...

    But

    I do not accept that the i-dotting t-crossing-tossers who are dragged from the womb squawking 'I'm born to serve save lead you' have any juristiction to fuck us up and pretend that it's all for the greater good.

    I also disacceptingly decline the invitation to sway back and blame eveybody else because some disaffected bros are scumtwats who's only contribution to society (us, remember) is again to fuck us up and pretend that it's all our fault.

    I'm just not having it.

    A bugle call to all shit people :

    Dictators, crap parents, abusers, grasping politicians, genocidal scumbags, violent thugs and wankers everywhere...

    You're shite and you know you are...

    Fall on your swords, or feel my fist of twattish death-knitted steel glove-mittens.

    Well...???

    *taps watch*

    I'm waiting...

    Get on with it...

  • Bring Out Yer Dead ( And Yer Branston Pickle)

    Old Mother Hubbard has been at the cupboard again...

    All those jars with those precious yummy last scrapings of Branston, horseradish, gherkin relish and green food dye, all gone. Apart from the tempting little sticky rings left on the shelf...(...mmmm....sticky rings...)...

    23 of Coleman's greatest taste-bud hits forever feng-shui'd out of here.

    More space, less taste.

    3...2...1...

    Gaaaaarghhh !

    (*Rushes out to buy more*)

  • Popcorn Blows

    I've just seen Del Toro's 'The Orphanage'.

    Most excellent...not a 'horror' by Hollywood definition, but a suspenseful supernatural chiller, it put me in mind of my old favourite 'The Haunting of Hill House' and perhaps, (but better than ) 'The Others'.....

    Like 'Pan's Labyrinth' and even 'Hellboy'...it uses formulaic 'BOO !' tricks, but with a such a fine touch, visual sensitivity and great acting that it takes the film out of the humdrum equation.

    See it if you can.

    If anyone has seen 'The Devil's Backbone', would you recommend it, or tell me where I can find it ?

    Popcorn Shock !!!

    10,000 % mark-up.
    55:1 volume ratio of popped to unpopped corn
    387kcal per 100g

    ...and it makes you cough like a pigeon... I'd rather have a tub of overpriced ice-cream any day (because I'm ethical like that)... and it reminds me of the Wall's tubs and Kia-Ora and Orange-Maids I used to buy back in the days of intervals, from the lady with the tray strung round her neck. I think her name was Irene. There was always a big fat tabby cat in the foyer...

    But I digress.

    People tend to avoid subtitled films (a few walked out on this after two minutes, despite it being advertised as subbed and told again when buying their ticket)...

    'Wot's subtitles den Kylie ?'...'Errr, I literally dunno Karl'...

    Multiplexes in shopping outlets are extaordinarily odd little windows on life .

    All that purple neon but nobody's home, apart from the odd pisshead in his sports socks, chucked out of ten-pin bowling for barfing on his rented shoes, and bored teenagers fumbling in dark corners by the bins...a bit like Magaluf out of season.

    Thanks for all your relief parcels during our time of need, Firstborn got sent home from school as well with stern words about sending him in in 'that state'... but he always looks and behaves as though he's on death's doorstep first thing so how was I to know ?...

    Anyway, I'm the last man standing and that's what counts so I can hold my head high and say 'yes I am better than you !', as I do the rounds with hot soup and paracetamol. Or not. Depending on how arsy they are.

    Just call me Florence.

    Oh, and further to J's post which I've just read, I did in real life have an aunty called...

    Violet Fanny !

    TaahDaaah !!

  • Good Morning All !

    I can tell because of all the unecessary joyous chirruping.

    Our little brown birds... what are they like ?

    And there go the seagulls (which the birdspotters amongst us will know are not gulls at all)...

    Crepuscular ?

    Crapiscular ?

  • Trash The Place

    This week I will be mostly putting my house in a skip...

    There are 327 weeping binbags full of crap outside...

    And that was just the tea-towel and Action-Man drawer.

    Tomorrows schedule - (packed lunch optional) :

    Last man standing doesn't get composted -

    Hah !

    That would be so not ME then ...

    I win I win ! (beats chest)...

    I darnce I dooz ...

    Oh dear...

    *feels a bit queasy and falls on compost heap*

    'It's what she would have wanted....sob...to be recycled by the Local Authority'

  • Es Tu Broadband ?

    Even tireless wireless is timing out...

    Back to the stone-age then...

    (Remember Freeserve ?)

    Aahh, those giddy days ...

  • Buffer The Blog Slayer

    Can you st....st...st..opop...op buff..ferfer..er...er....ing on posted videos?

    And if not, why not ?

  • Two Down Two To Go

    Buckets ? Check

    Brillo Pads ? Check

    Bog Roll and Bounty ? ? ? Check

    Bum Thermometer ? Check

    Blue Lights ? (Box Left Open)

    Bastard Buggery ? Check

    Blue Nun ? Check

  • Awareness Test

    http://www.dothetest.co.uk/

  • Bella Donna ?

    I went for a celebratory dinner with freinds at a pensioners hotel, and I must say it was flufferly.

    Lots of space in an airy green room where the furniture and the clientelle looked like pretzels. Clucked over and comforted by two (two soups ?) ladies who fed us for England, with extra chips instead of new-born baby potatoes.

    Really good grub...I had pears and walnuts on grilled goats cheese, and because we're hoping to go to Belgian battlefeilds in the summer, mules and chips.

    We had a bottle or two of wine each and there was always lashings of iced tap-water on the table. And mountains of cauliflowers.

    And there was white proper-farmyard-pepper joy.

    We variously staggered out to light up and stagger back to fall face down cursing in the pudding, and agreed that we really must go there again.

    Nobody had a hidden stick up their arse to beat us with as soon as we had finished eating, there was no chef angst, no chic hovering rictus smiliness.

    It came to £25 each.

    And for dessert I'm still tickling the garlic from under my false fingernails...yum !

    (Yes, there was a finger bowl, but I drank it).

    My only moment of disquiet was when seven faces beamed at me and someone said 'yes she does remind me of

    ,

    now you mention it!'

    What the fuck did I say ????

    I wasn't mindlessly indulgent in the least.

  • High Society

    What happened to society ?

    Well, in my lifetime and on my planet Thatcher dismantled it and hid the nuts and bolts in her knickers. She shot it between the eyes and then declared that there was no such animal. She created a sub-species of the poor and kneecapped the working-class...

    I will tramp the dirt down.

    It's never too late to hate.

  • One Word Meme

    Where is your mobile phone? Pocket
    Your significant other? Flu
    Your hair? Washed
    Your mother? Aaaaargh !
    Your father? Dead
    Your favourite thing? Sunshine
    Your dream last night? Bears
    Your favorite drink? Tea
    Your dream/goal? Painter
    The room you're in? Kitchen
    Your ex? Shrugs
    Your fear? Stopping
    Where do you want to be in 6 years? Elsewhere
    Where were you last night? Waiting
    What you're not? Tall
    One of your wish list items? Paint
    Where you grew up? Seaside
    The last thing you did? Click
    What are you wearing? Perfume
    Your TV? News
    Your pets? Hairy
    Your computer? Busy
    Your life? Rollercoaster
    Your mood? Impatient
    Missing someone? Yes
    Your car? Messy
    Something you're not wearing? Ballgown
    Favourite Store? Poundland
    Your summer? Battlefields
    Like someone? Freinds
    Your favourite colour? Turquoise
    Last time you laughed? Yesterday
    Last time you cried? March

  • 7 Random Facts About Me

    It was harder than I thought to copy the links without consigning the post to the ether every couple of clicks, but I think she's got it.

    Shipscook tagged me for this and there probably aren't too many left who haven't done it but here you go:

    The Rules -
    1. Link to the person's blog who tagged you.
    2. Post these rules on your blog.
    3. List seven random and/or weird facts about yourself
    4. Tag seven random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.
    5. Let each person know that they have been tagged by posting a comment on their blog.

    Tagged by http://www.blog.co.uk/user/Shipscook

    The Bare Facts

    1. I am an aetheist. Blasphemy is a victimless crime.

    2. I had to rescue my dog from drowning. Twice. (Stupid dawg).

    3. I have a dragon tatoo because I was traumatised by 'Puff The Magic Dragon' as a child.
    I had to get him out of the Puff-pound where little Jacky-bastard-Paper left him.

    4. I can draw extremely well, but I hardly ever do. My last proper drawing was in charcoal, of a hunting mermaid. Trout-pout.

    5. I am quite an aggressive Aquarian, for a peace lover.

    6. I had a bubble-and-squeak butty for dinner. (I was a full-on veggie for 20 years, which might explain why I'm only 5'2" and bite my nails...I need the protein).

    7. I have no sense of comic. Timing. (Wait for it....). Whatsoever!

    I tag :

    http://www.blog.co.uk/user/thespian
    http://www.blog.co.uk/user/jackfrost
    http://www.blog.co.uk/user/MissyMouse
    http://www.blog.co.uk/user/GilraenH
    http://www.blog.co.uk/user/adamantixx
    http://www.blog.co.uk/user/NotBob
    http://www.blog.co.uk/user/deana24

  • Ill-Starred Chamber

    All of my horoscopes indicate that I am entering a phase of mesmerising communication skills.

    My morning was spent at a 3 hour meeting in order for 3 people to fill in 1 form, which shall go to review before going to panel.

    My contributions were indeed voluble and voluminous, and perhaps my diplomacy and tact will encourage the crack team of platitude pedlars to get off their arses and change the world for the better.

    They certainly looked mesmerised in their glassy-eyed immobility.

    I hate meetings, but trust that my honeyed words have won the day, because horoscopes never lie...

  • Shameless Yeehaw ! (Rawhided ....Again !)

    Well, if they can do it on Shameless I can certainly run it again...

    It happenchanced at 14 and 15 posts ago....

    I haven't yet captured The Gallagher's version...

    But I will.

    Meanwhile...

    Back at the ranch...

    Roll'em Up, Gerrammin Rawhide ...

    Yeeefuckinhaaa!

  • Scousers Do Die (But Only Of Old Age)

    Just when they thought it was safe to go back in the water !

    The Mighty Reds find their teeth and ...

    Nomnomnom...

    I'm tired now... and wounded !

    Oi !.....

    Stretcher me off !!

    I have to be fit to take Chelsea.

    *LiverpoooolLIVERPOoolLiverpoolLIVERPool !!!*

    (Scousers DIE !....but only of old age !)

  • Back To School !

    Out of the front door by 8.30am in the first clean clothes on their backs for nearly 3 weeks...

    Hip Hip Hooray !

    It may be snowing, but it's sunshine in my heart !

    (Clicks heels smartly and gets the Ajax out).

  • LOLympic Torch

    Get Torchwood on the line.

    A new portal to an alien world has opened in our midst.

    It lies beyond the barricades gates to Downing Street.

    In barly feasible human guise, Tes-Sa has sent a clear message to Terrestial Earth that we are cracking open the bubbly and raising the bunting in a celebration of harmony and goodwill, as police were seen playfully wrestling revellers to the ground before bundling them onto buses to have a bop with the Sugababes.

    And didn't Brown look lovely in his ra-ra skirt rattling his sabres pom-poms ?

  • Hendrix For Beginners

    When you see that the last page up on your beloved's laptop was :

    'Guitar lessons- Jimi Hendrix- Part 1'

    .....and he is busy with his leads and a pair of pliers...

    Then you know the evening is highly unlikely to turn out as well as you might have hoped !!!

  • Happy Boxing Day

    The sun shone

    Liverpool v. Arsenal Premiership match, The Grand National and Doctor Who on the telly...

    And I got me one of these...

    Everlast

    Wahay !

    Oh Happy Day !!

  • Smooth Moves

    This is my favoured dance routine of the moment (reserved for the wee small hours).

  • The Peasant Wedding (Jake The Peg)

    WeddingBruegel

    I do not care about what's going on with the third left leg.

    (Perhaps he wasn't arsed either ?)

    One
    Fantastic
    Painting !

  • All Pollyanna

    I will not question my leader

    I will not question my maker

    I will not be a cynic

    Early to bed and early to rise...

    I don't drink

    I don't smoke

    What do I do ?

    (Subtle innuendo follows...)

    Must be something inside !

    Was it all those greens I swallowed ?

  • Closing Doors

    "If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things through narrow chinks of his cavern."

    ...Blake.

    not Huxely or Jim Morrison,

    Bless their cotton little socks !

    Couldn't hold a guttering candle to Blake...

  • Lateral Horseshit

    The Chief Constable of North Wales police admits to having a bit of a 'thing' with getting speeding motorists (he would be the one with the 'STOP POLICE !' sign at the pearly gates, shouldering St Peter out of the way, then ?).

    The Department of Transport recommends that speed cameras should be highly visible.

    Taking this recommendation on board by the letter (if not in spirit), Llanrwst police parked a large horebox by the side of a road manned by two officers and operating a speed camera.

    Responses from drivers have varied from 'Entrapment!' (that would be bikers then) to 'Bang-to-rights-I-should-co-co!' (Atilla-the-caravan-dragger).

    I think this poses deeply phlosophical questions...

    About our perception of reality.

  • Horny Handed Daughter of Soil

    Oft ha' I walked by Bonny Doon
    To see the rose and woodbine twine...

    It has taken me two hours to dig out a deranged rose from the garden. It was a nasty, vicious critter. If it had been a dog it would have had rabies.

    The monster made a romantic gesture once a year and brought me flowers. This was foolishly akin to having a soft spot for Bluebeard just because he washed behind his ears occaisionally.

    The roots were 4ft down and they looked and behaved like a nest of snakes, but armed with a hacksaw, spade and burrowing dog I eventually got it ... and I got it good.

    Hah....!

    Roses are dead dilly-dilly...

    Now I must retire to the castle to lick my wounds.

    Because it bit me !

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