Anarchy in the UK (part 2 and it's a bit of a rant)

... and not go on until the wee small hours. Tricky last night because of the clocks changing, but I reckon I heard the last firework at about 1 in the morning.

Okay, it's not quite what you'd call anarchy, but it's pretty blatantly ignoring the law, and more to the point, even if they don't know the law has changed, just being damned anti-social. But even if they do know that what they are doing is illegal, they have no reason to be worried. What are the chances of them actually being prosecuted? Next to nothing.

Today's example of Chavdom ignoring the law of the land whilst simultaneously being entirely selfish (or stupid at the very least) is the woman I have just seen driving up the road.

Walking down the road, I see coming towards me a car being thrashed to within an inch of it's life, and only doing about 20 miles an hour. Yes, it was in first gear. Why was it in first gear? Because the chavette driving it was too busy on the phone to change gear. Okay, so it's her car, she can ruin it if she wants, but if she can't manage to change gear you have to wonder how much control she has over the car and how much attention she is paying to what is going on around her.

It would be quite sad for her if she removed herself from the gene pool (though not necessarily for the rest of humanity) but as so often happens when drivers are careless, she's more likely to remove somebody else from the gene pool. The prime candidate being her own small child, who was bouncing around in the back of the car quite clearly without a seat belt on. And chav offspring or not, that's just plain wrong.

Anarchy in the UK

It's 11pm, and it's not either Bonfire Night or New Year's Eve, therefore as per the fireworks regulations (2004), all should be quiet here in Chavsfield - all fireworks should have stopped for the night...

Little People

So, research has shown that recently there actually was a type of tiny human. Apparently, they had brains the size of grapefruits, but still had a good mind. This is not entirely suprising. I have come across plenty of people who probably have quite large brains, but no power of logical thought. In fact I came across two today.

These two individuals had decided that the ashtray on top of a litter bin in a busy shopping area was the ideal thing to use as a table while they ate their McDonalds. Given that ashtrays are normally used to dispose of cigarettes, I can't really understand why they got upset when I used it to dispose of a cigarette...

Peel

A man who truly deserved to be described as having eclectic musical taste.

Formaldehyde

Today I have been continuing with my work on Marc's Den. This has involved considerable use of MDF, so beloved of make over shows on TV. Before I embarked on this project, a few people advised me to make sure I cut the MDF outside while wearing a mask. Today it was raining, and the face masks I had stashed away have gone rotten. So I had to be daring. I cut the MDF in the kitchen, without a face mask. Or a hanky over my mouth or anything.

Caring nothing for my own safety or not, I thought I ought to check (having already completed my cutting) what the health and safety risks actually are of working with MDF without the use of breathing apparatus of some sort. A quick Google later and all was revealed. MDF contains formaldehyde, which, if you breath it in can give you a bit of a dry throat, and maybe a touch of a blocked nose. Much like sawdust itself really - which if it contains hard woods can be carcinogenic (like most of the real world...)

On balance, I actually think the whole process was probably good for me. For several hours I was working away cutting and drilling, during which time I was not chain smoking, didn't have any cups of coffee (apparently it gives you heart disease) and also avoided alcohol! Sounds like the health equivalent of a bargain to me...

DIY

I am currently working on a major DIY project which involves transferring the beasty upon which I am currently typing from my living room to the cupboard under the stairs (henceforth known as "Marc's Den")

Due to the work I am doing to make this possible I have bought a small spirit level (I do already have a small spirit level. It isn't level. Almost every shelf in my house is fitted at the same non-level angle. I like to claim it's part of some kind of clever optical illusion, but it isn't. It's because my old spirit level was shite...) The new level appears to fairly accurate, but better than that, it's magnetic! Fantastic! I love magnets. Although I have discovered that my fridge freezer is wonky.

Mud, sweat and beers

I managed to release my car from it's soggy clay bondage. It was hard physical work. Belch.

Rain, pain and brain

That "pain" and "brain" rhyme always made my poor efforts at songwriting so much easier. Likewise "last breath" and "death". In fact, brain is only mentioned in the title for poetic effect. I was cheered to hear the other day, however, that some lost recordings by us featuring such lyrics have resurfaced. They will no doubt be dire, but hopefully funnily dire...

...unlike the weather, which is merely dire. My car is currently stuck on a waterlogged patch of grass, which now looks more like the Somme after a particularily intense period of fighting and trench digging. This will add to the joy of getting to work tomorrow...

...providing I can actually move myself tomorrow. I have put my back out and I'm suffering: this time not even the therapeutic powers of kebab and extra chili sauce seem to be helping. I've actually been reduced to taking pain killers. Perhaps I should go back to songwriting to take my mind off things...

Ambition

It's terrible. It really is terrible. I can't believe how terrible it is. I just can't think of anything to blog about today. I could rant about how awful my local shopping area is on a Saturday afternoon and how McDonalds was swamped by filthy chavs and therefore unusable, but it's not that suprising given that the area I live in is full of filthy chavs who all go to my local shopping area on a Saturday afternoon. I could talk about how my train was late this morning. But it wasn't, so that's a non starter. I could tell you all about how I put petrol instead of diesel into my car last week, but that's old news, and as the engine didn't explode then it's not terribly exciting old news either.

Perhaps I could do current affairs, like so many other bloggers. I could... but my opinions are probably not terribly contentious, and news is generally, I feel, best left to responsible news gathering organisations. The most exciting piece of news that I could bring you today would be that I saw a burning bus on the way home. And that's not even true, because it had been put out and was really just a smouldering bus when I passed by.

The only thing I can think of to write about today is Mountain Unicycling. This sport genuinely does exist, and clearly is the preserve of mentalists of the highest order... and I find the idea quite appealing. As such, I have resolved to obtain and learn to ride a unicycle, with the eventual aim of careering down the side of the Lickey Hills on only one wheel and without breaking any bones. This probably will not happen, but it's good to have ambition...

Grrrrrrrrrrr....

This morning I stood around for about half an hour waiting for a train (they supposedly run every 8 minutes). I just about made it into work on time so from my point of view there was no damage done (my girlfriend was less lucky, she missed her connecting service and was late for work) but it promps an interesting question:

When using public transport, which of the following would you find more useful -

1. On train TV screens showing an endless loop of old news articles and public service advertisements

or...

2. Announcements at the station informing the travelling public why their train hasn't arrived yet and when it might be likely to arrive?

A tricky question I know, but I have a sneaky suspicion most people would prefer their local train operator to spend money on the second option. Actually, I suspect most people would prefer their local train operator to spend money on reliable trains... Guess which one they actually have spent money on?

Zombies

I've really got to write about something other than food - despite being very tempted to celebrate the healing powers of kebab meat and copious amounts of chilli sauce... (No! Seriously, I had a lovely kebab meat and chips last night, and my cold all but disappeared. Instantly. I had another for lunch today, just to finish the bugger off for good. My cold is gone. I am cured. It's a miracle!)

Anyway, moving from kebab to zombies: I watched "Shaun of the Dead" this evening, and can totally recommend it as a rather spiffing movie. I would say that, as I am a big fan of "Spaced" which was, if you don't know, a brilliant TV show made by and featuring a lot of the same people, but this is in its own right a well written, well made, funny, very worthwhile film. Normally I get bored of films about a quarter of the way through, whereas Shaun of the Dead flew by and before I knew it it was finished. Features an excellent non-cricketing use of a cricket bat as well.

Speaking of the living dead, I have drunk too much, I'm still recovering a bit from my cold (even though the kebabs have killed it), and I'm quite tired, so I suppose I'd better be gone... toodlepip!

Lasagne!

How much better can it get? Last night broccoli, tonight lasagne. And Hitch Hikers Guide on the radio in quarter of an hour or so. The only things that could possibly improve this scenario are my continued cold and the fact I am on call so can't wash the lasagne down with copious amounts of alcohol!

Broccoli

Tonight I am looking forward to broccoli. Not the late famed producer of James Bond movies, but the green stuff. Broccoli (and sprouts, as well) seems to be anathema to some, but I love it. Despite the fact I should be relaxing in my sick-bed due to a stinking cold, I shall be venturing out later to my girlfriend's precisely because broccoli is on offer. Er... I should qualify that statement a little, I'm obviously not just going for the broccoli, I am also going to see her as well...

Now fish, that's a different matter. Broccoli in a nice cheesy white sauce (served with good quality sausages, I hope) is lovely. Fish in a white sauce, however, is, to me, merely a powerful emetic. You might as well mix it with the appropriate extra ingredients (diced carrot, tomato skins, battery acid and in my case, oddly, always sliced mushrooms) and throw it straight down the toilet.

And don't try telling me "fish is brain food." It isn't. I have a perfectly good brain, thank you very much, despite eating a lot of dodgy beef and no fish. Then of course there is fishing. The most dull sport ever invented (excepting perhaps Formula One grand prix). Fair enough if you are one of the deluded fools who eats the stuff, but fishing seems to largely involve catching them and then chucking them back in the water. It's just train spotting with maggots. Pointless.

Fish should be left to swim around, living their happy little watery lives unmolested, and certainly nobody should ever attempt to put any on a plate for me.

My broccoli awaits...

Cold

I am suffering. Terribly. I am surely going to die. Well, I have a bit of a cold. And I don't really want to die, at least not till I've earnt a few brownie points from any higher being there might be, for today I have seen a vision of hell - and I didn't much like it...

And hell is? Safeways/Morrisons at Rubery, Birmingham. I am weak from both my cold and the experience of Safeways, and I'm sure I've covered the subject before, so I won't say too much, other than that I am now even more certain that the entire place is run by the minions of Satan. Possibly as a sort of training scheme for eternal damnation. When you finally get served, the coffee is okay though.

Odd

Why did the passenger side front indicator of my car spontaneously fall out today? And why was it full of water? And oddest of all, why, despite these occurences, was it still working? Questions like this are interesting, baffling, mystifying even, but not as odd as the strange intertwining world of seemingly unconnected people.

In days gone by, the fact that a girlfriend might know an ex-girlfriend was easily explained by the fact that the social groups I moved in were smaller and generally comprised of people from the immediate local area. Time goes on, people move around and social groups disintegrate.... so why should it be that current girly knows of ex-girly from 15 years ago who now lives miles away? Perhaps we're living in a sort of Truman Show world, but cheap, and they can't get enough extras in? Whatever the reason, it's bloody weird.

Toes

Ha! My favourite TV bod Ray Mears is on again... and he's just said quite clearly that he spent his childhood sleeping with badgers. Honest. This explains a lot. I think he is Harry Hill in disguise, and the entire show is a clever spoof.

Meanwhile, back in the real world, or my real world at least, life is good. But my feet aren't. Frankly, they smell. If anybody has any great tips for dealing with excessive foot odour, please feel free to contact me!

Right, from stink to extinct: back to the telly - because yet another dinosaur/meteor/armageddon Horizon is coming up in a few minutes...

Space!

I've finally found something to spend my money on when I win the lottery. Only £112,000 for a trip into space? Bargain. Although it will only last for about 3 minutes. I'm not going to say too much more about the company who are selling this and their other highly successful transport operations as it's better not to bite the hand that in a round about sort of way currently feeds, but as long as they don't use Birmingham New Street as their spaceport it'll be fine.

Fairies Wear Boots

My son is developing into a bit of a headbanger. I mean this in a positive way, as in I refer to his musical taste - he has a liking for heavy metal and hard rock. This is, in my opinion, a good thing, and the fact that he knows all the words to "Iron Man" by Black Sabbath makes me a very proud father.

"Good thing" or not, there's always a little bit of concern in my mind that at the age my kids are (6 and 8) heavy metal might be a bit too adult. I certainly try to avoid any of the more recent stuff which is rammed with adult language, for example, and I'm glad my son doesn't understand any of the double entendres in some of AC/DCs stuff. Nevertheless I do sometimes worry that some of the weighty issues (although perhaps giant robots going on the rampage in Iron Man shouldn't have me worrying too much) aren't ideal for kids.

Turns out I needn't worry. The final track on Black Sabbath's album "Paranoid" is called Fairies Wear Boots. And while it was on, the kids started debating whether or not fairies do wear boots, and then moved on to discussing what sort of boots elves, goblins, gnomes, pixies and dwarves wear. They may like "grown up" music, but they are still kids.

Dog

Too many bottles of good old Newcastle Brown prevented me from writing anything last night. They're still not helping now... but it was a good night. From what I remember...