sometimes you have to question what they are for?
I'm no politician, but to the biggest problem is not that there are so many benefits out there, nor that 'all the foreigners' claim them. (Which is actually a racist urban myth) Non English residents are as entitled to receive benefits as much as you or me, it just so happens that immigrants are often at the bottom of the pile, so are more likely to have no work, or be in the poorest paid jobs. And it's actually notp ossible for asylum seekers to sign on.
My only gripe with the system isn't that money is available, but that once on the benefits money-go-round it's hard to jump off. Take a job & you lose your welfare payments, which is to be expected. BUT you also lose your housing benefit, & things like that, so you have to be in a decently paid job to be able to afford to live and pay the rent/mortgage as well as have a minimum basic lifestyle. A total benefits trap, which I don't have the answer to.
So while I'm one hundred per cent behind the welfare state I'm also supportive of the campaigns for people to shop benefit cheats. Those who sign on, but work in the 'hidden economy'. Not that I'd grass anyone up myself, but there are enough people who will. And if you fiddle your benefits you deserve to get done! The irony being many of those who do cheat are poor white working class, who moan about immigrants taking 'our jobs and houses'! A generalisation from me, but it's true!
As I said I don't know what the answer is, but one deterrent would be to bang people up when they are caught. I have no idea how many cheat are discovered & punished year by year, I'm sure the stats are out there, but it's the stories that make the papers that are the ones that will put people off.
Or give them the green light to go ahead & chance their luck if this story from the 'Croydon Advertiser' is anything to go by.
Tracy Gowlett, a 47 year old mother of three was spared jail after magistrates were reported to have taken pity on her. She had fiddled over ten grand worth of benefits. A combination of income support, housing benefits & council tax benefits, after she failed to tell the authorities that her husband had moved back in with here. He'd apparently moved out in 2001 because of 'extreme financial hardship'. Maybe if they'd been on the fiddle earlier he wouldn't have had to bugger off in the first place...
Because she sobbed in court, & pleaded if she had gone to prison her old man would have had to give up his job to care for their children, she was 'punished' with forty hours community service! That's a whole working week to do! Hardly aa sentence to put you off is it?
She has already paid back £750 of what she bogusly claimed, having got a job in a supermarket. Which sounds all well & good, until you read that before that she hadn't had a job since since she was 24-yes you read that right. A 'mere' twenty three years. Presumably milking the benefits system dry. Suddenly she gets rumbled for being on the fiddle &, hey presto, a convenient job before she's up before a gullible beak!
What odds she stops working, & her repayments go out of the window at the same time, before the year is out?
I have no idea what this woman & her family are like, but I'd bet my last fiver that she would fit in perfectly as a guest on the Jeremy Kyle show!
Tuesday, 21 April 2009
Sunday, 19 April 2009
Darting about on a Sunday
Today I was ashamed of my Football Club. I say ‘my’ Club, I am a mere supporter, it’s no more mine than yours really. But I put a claim in by way of my lifelong stint as a fan.
This afternoon I was a mere bandwagon jumping bystander really, if I’m honest. So it might be a bit rich of me to say I was ‘ashamed’. Perhaps I could downgrade that to ‘saddened’.
For the first time this season I saw one of our many Junior sides, apart from the Under Eighteens, who I watch regularly on a Sunday morning. I ventured over to the far south-eastern edge of London to Bexley Park Sports Club in Darford, for the Selkent League Under Sixteen Challenge Cup Final between our boys & Our Lady Youth.
I didn’t know anything really about either side, but gleaned from the League website that the oppo were undefeated in the league, having only conceded six goals; & that we were second, but a good few points behind, having drawn & lost a few. So they would have been red hot favourites. Which I guess would have scuppered my plan to send in a snap to our local rag. But I’d still go for a team photo afterwards, if we lost. Not so much a happy snap, as maybe a few forced grins.
That was my plan…
In the end we lost 5-3, but what a fucking shock we gave them! We went one up, then got another, before they pulled one back. But restored our two goal advantage, to go three up at by half time. But after the break it was another story. They attacked in waves, although we did have some half decent chances, but they hit back, with a couple of late goals finally doing us.
Now I know these are young lads & they're gutted as losing, but their lack of discipline was awful at the end. After we were looking beaten one of our players walked off the pitch! At the final whistle, after the obligitory begrudged handshakes some of our team threw their shirts on the floor, showing no respect to them. Others got changed on the spot, & at least one left the ground before the medals were presented. The boy who walked off during the game was moaning at how shit all his team were, as if he was a star!
How the manager allows this petulant behaviour is beyond me! It was an embarrassment to watch. So much so that I trudged out of the playing field with a heavy heart, before the presentations. I was embarrassed by their childish reaction. Whatever happened to dignity in defeat & pride in the shirt?
Instead of walking a mile & a half back into Bexley I strolled in the other direction, entirely sure where I was off to, but following my A to Z. Heading to Dartford town centre, not for any reason other than it was a nice sunny spring afternoon, & it was now getting dark later. Why? I wasn't going there to see anything in particular, I just fancied the walk. Part of it along the edge of Dartford Heath, and in the town through Central Park. I 'splashed out' on a large bottle of Pepsi Max , which was on a special offer at only a pound at a little corner shop. When I drank 'proper' soft drinks I was always a Coca Cola man, but since being told I'm diabetic thre months ago, I'll drink either because the low/no sugar ones are as shit as each other!
So I was swigging & walking & strange as it may sound just enjoyed doing that. It wasn't particularly scenic, as 'scenic' what I like. My type of scenic is looking & observing. town centres, buildings, that sort of thing. Much of it was with a wood to my left, & a road to my right. walking by Dartford Heath was pleasant enough, lots of yellow flowers, but roughly wild scrubland, not exactly picture postcard, but still countryfied to me, as a London boy. It was warm, but not baking. And while walking through the Heath I got thinking about how I'd love to strip off & sunbathe-which I never! Naturism is something I've never done, but would actually like to one day somewhere, just to feel the 'freedom' of fresh air on my body. I certainly wouldn't do it in the summer when it was hot as I get sunburnt easily & burn bright red & peel. I wouldn't wish that on my dick! ;-)
I also passed a small football club, Fleetdown United, from the Kent County League, unfortunately the gates were locked, so I couldn't nose in & take some snaps. But at least I know where the ground is now. I've seen a couple of matches in this league recently. At Lewisham Borough & Crockenhill. A very low standard, but pleasantly enjoyable, if you take into account they're keen but not very talented. Plus it's very cheap! Couple of quid at most if they do a programme.
Which helps, as I've really got to save money over the next three months, as I've got three trips planned, & I need every spare penny so I can actually live on them! Today was cheap, and I kept myself lazily busy, So I can't complain. The 'hard bit' starts tomorrow, as it's payday, & money will be in my pocket again. The easiest thing to do is to 'save' money by not spending any when you've none in your pocket. The difficult part is not to spend it when you have it! I really think I will be disciplined enough to do this, as I have no choice if I want to survive on my little break, & f I can get into the habit of spending less money then I can save some more, both for other trips and to pay off more debts.
This afternoon I was a mere bandwagon jumping bystander really, if I’m honest. So it might be a bit rich of me to say I was ‘ashamed’. Perhaps I could downgrade that to ‘saddened’.
For the first time this season I saw one of our many Junior sides, apart from the Under Eighteens, who I watch regularly on a Sunday morning. I ventured over to the far south-eastern edge of London to Bexley Park Sports Club in Darford, for the Selkent League Under Sixteen Challenge Cup Final between our boys & Our Lady Youth.
I didn’t know anything really about either side, but gleaned from the League website that the oppo were undefeated in the league, having only conceded six goals; & that we were second, but a good few points behind, having drawn & lost a few. So they would have been red hot favourites. Which I guess would have scuppered my plan to send in a snap to our local rag. But I’d still go for a team photo afterwards, if we lost. Not so much a happy snap, as maybe a few forced grins.
That was my plan…
In the end we lost 5-3, but what a fucking shock we gave them! We went one up, then got another, before they pulled one back. But restored our two goal advantage, to go three up at by half time. But after the break it was another story. They attacked in waves, although we did have some half decent chances, but they hit back, with a couple of late goals finally doing us.
Now I know these are young lads & they're gutted as losing, but their lack of discipline was awful at the end. After we were looking beaten one of our players walked off the pitch! At the final whistle, after the obligitory begrudged handshakes some of our team threw their shirts on the floor, showing no respect to them. Others got changed on the spot, & at least one left the ground before the medals were presented. The boy who walked off during the game was moaning at how shit all his team were, as if he was a star!
How the manager allows this petulant behaviour is beyond me! It was an embarrassment to watch. So much so that I trudged out of the playing field with a heavy heart, before the presentations. I was embarrassed by their childish reaction. Whatever happened to dignity in defeat & pride in the shirt?
Instead of walking a mile & a half back into Bexley I strolled in the other direction, entirely sure where I was off to, but following my A to Z. Heading to Dartford town centre, not for any reason other than it was a nice sunny spring afternoon, & it was now getting dark later. Why? I wasn't going there to see anything in particular, I just fancied the walk. Part of it along the edge of Dartford Heath, and in the town through Central Park. I 'splashed out' on a large bottle of Pepsi Max , which was on a special offer at only a pound at a little corner shop. When I drank 'proper' soft drinks I was always a Coca Cola man, but since being told I'm diabetic thre months ago, I'll drink either because the low/no sugar ones are as shit as each other!
So I was swigging & walking & strange as it may sound just enjoyed doing that. It wasn't particularly scenic, as 'scenic' what I like. My type of scenic is looking & observing. town centres, buildings, that sort of thing. Much of it was with a wood to my left, & a road to my right. walking by Dartford Heath was pleasant enough, lots of yellow flowers, but roughly wild scrubland, not exactly picture postcard, but still countryfied to me, as a London boy. It was warm, but not baking. And while walking through the Heath I got thinking about how I'd love to strip off & sunbathe-which I never! Naturism is something I've never done, but would actually like to one day somewhere, just to feel the 'freedom' of fresh air on my body. I certainly wouldn't do it in the summer when it was hot as I get sunburnt easily & burn bright red & peel. I wouldn't wish that on my dick! ;-)
I also passed a small football club, Fleetdown United, from the Kent County League, unfortunately the gates were locked, so I couldn't nose in & take some snaps. But at least I know where the ground is now. I've seen a couple of matches in this league recently. At Lewisham Borough & Crockenhill. A very low standard, but pleasantly enjoyable, if you take into account they're keen but not very talented. Plus it's very cheap! Couple of quid at most if they do a programme.
Which helps, as I've really got to save money over the next three months, as I've got three trips planned, & I need every spare penny so I can actually live on them! Today was cheap, and I kept myself lazily busy, So I can't complain. The 'hard bit' starts tomorrow, as it's payday, & money will be in my pocket again. The easiest thing to do is to 'save' money by not spending any when you've none in your pocket. The difficult part is not to spend it when you have it! I really think I will be disciplined enough to do this, as I have no choice if I want to survive on my little break, & f I can get into the habit of spending less money then I can save some more, both for other trips and to pay off more debts.
Thursday, 16 April 2009
Take it down!
Walking down the road I passed a couple of shops that still had one of those 'Happy Easter' posters in the window. You know the ones, they have the days of the break, & you can write in your opening hours over the holiday.
Good Friday. Easter Sunday. Easter Bank Holiday Monday. Fair enough. I can cope with all that. But can anyone tell me what the fuck is 'Holy Saturday'? Just because it's slap bang between the day where Jesus was killed and he did his comeback piece, does not make it a 'Holy' Saturday! Not from where I'm sitting! What a load of old nonsense!
But that wasn't actually what I was going to moan about. That was more my 'supplimentary' gripe. Today is Thursday. Easter was over three days ago. Yet the posters are still up in the window. Which to me is slapdash, lazy, incompetent even. One of theshops was a bakery. And when I see out of date posters in their window that implies to me that they don't really care about much at all. If they can't be bothered to take down aan old poster I start wondering what they can't be arsed to do in their kitchens. Why clean today what you can do tomorrow?
An out of date poster makes me a not very happy Easter bunny. If they can't be arsed to take down an out of date mock goodwill message from their shopfront then I have'nt got much faith in them to sell me fresh goods from a clean kitchen. It's enough to make me stop shopping there. Ot itv would be if ever I was one of their customers in the first place.
But I've never been one for supporting small shops anyway. I'm more than happy to continue to trawl the 'grredy' supermarkets where I can get cheaper stuff at a price that matches the meagre loose change in my not very full pocket. Doesn't stop those posters annoying me though!
Good Friday. Easter Sunday. Easter Bank Holiday Monday. Fair enough. I can cope with all that. But can anyone tell me what the fuck is 'Holy Saturday'? Just because it's slap bang between the day where Jesus was killed and he did his comeback piece, does not make it a 'Holy' Saturday! Not from where I'm sitting! What a load of old nonsense!
But that wasn't actually what I was going to moan about. That was more my 'supplimentary' gripe. Today is Thursday. Easter was over three days ago. Yet the posters are still up in the window. Which to me is slapdash, lazy, incompetent even. One of theshops was a bakery. And when I see out of date posters in their window that implies to me that they don't really care about much at all. If they can't be bothered to take down aan old poster I start wondering what they can't be arsed to do in their kitchens. Why clean today what you can do tomorrow?
An out of date poster makes me a not very happy Easter bunny. If they can't be arsed to take down an out of date mock goodwill message from their shopfront then I have'nt got much faith in them to sell me fresh goods from a clean kitchen. It's enough to make me stop shopping there. Ot itv would be if ever I was one of their customers in the first place.
But I've never been one for supporting small shops anyway. I'm more than happy to continue to trawl the 'grredy' supermarkets where I can get cheaper stuff at a price that matches the meagre loose change in my not very full pocket. Doesn't stop those posters annoying me though!
Saturday, 11 April 2009
I actually ended up enjoying being somewhere I didn't want to be!
Yesterday I went to a wedding!!!
Why the exclamation marks? I know I overuse them in my puntuation generally, but the reason I put some there was because it's so rare I go to one, & I've not been to any at all in my almost seven years of sobriety. So the appeal of a free bar didn't hold much appeal. Truth is I didn't much fancy it at all...
A few weeks ago my 'mate' Cookie gave me a bell & asked if I wanted to pop down to Rochester because his mum was getting married. I've met her a couple of times before & she's a nice lady. But I certainly couldn't say I really know her, or the family.
It was strange, because on the one hand Cookie invited me, but on the other hand I still wasn't sure if I wanted to be in his company for such a personal event. Hard to explain without going over a lot of previous, but I'll give it a go,while trying to be brief at the same time. ...
We've known each other for over a dozen years or more, we got to know each other through football, when he started popping down the Hamlet when he was about sixteen or so. I got to know him quite well, and I'd always support him & back him up when I could, as friends do. In September 2007 he even treated me to a long wekeend in Berlin, which I couldn't afford.
But I also had a habit of taking the piss out of him ,as he did of me. And I posted something on his blog which he took umbrage at. And then it got personal. He attacked me on his, so I responded. He then said some really nasty stuff on his, real hurtful vitriolic stuff. Not just personal but totally evil. I could really have got personal & played 'tit for tat' & verbally stuck the knife into him from the past when we were a lot closer, but chose not to. I didn't need to sink to that nasty level. And the friendship was over.
I was saddened, but not totally upset. For the simple reason was I felt I that I hadn't done too much wrong & my conscience was clear. As far as I was concerned it wasn't me who had problems but him.
Out of the blue, just under six months ago, I got texts from him apologising. I knew he'd been back in prison, what for I've never asked. To be perfectly honest I didn't know what to think. I wasn't sure if I wanted to resume a friendship after what he'd said. I didn't need all this shit, and I like to think I'm loyal to my friends & always will be while they're my friends. That is what friendship is all about. But once that friendship is broken it's over. A bond is gone that can never be joined again. But bridges can be rebuilt, & I am glad he got back in touch, as despite everything, I did miss his friendship & he will always mean a lot to me, no matter what.
I thought long and hard as to whether to speak to him & meet up with him now and again. And I really do mean long and hard. And you know what? I'm glad I did. I don't have many friends, and neither does he. It might be partly selfish on my part, but I still care about him a lot.
He's still the fool, and talks a lot of nonsense, & don't get me started on his religious mumbo jumbo & some of the other company he keeps! Well ok, now I've mentioned it...he's converting to judaism, which is his choice, but.. and this is a BIG BUT.. one of his other mates is Jerry, a nazi white supremacist, who has been to the Fatherland that is Germany to attend right wing festivals! A Jew whose best mate is a Holocaust denier! You couldn't make it up! Someone please knock some sense into him because I can't!
Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, the wedding!
I wore a shirt, which was smart for me, though I didn't go 'suited and booted'. A bit difficult as I don't possess a whistle. But I was assured it would be ok by him. Just as well, because he wasn't wearing one either! As you can see from this snap, as he 'blended in' with everyone else in the front row!-
But, to be fair, it was a smart top he's got on.
He met me at Rochester station, and we popped into Baggins,
And had a quick wander round the Guildhall. ,which includes some of the maritime history on the Medway towns.
Too much information for Cookie, his brain was starting to go into overdrive, so he needed a liedown...
And so, after all that culture, we went to the bar where the ceremony was. A smart bar on the High Street. With the actual ceremony in the basement downstairs, which was an crypt type place, and well smart with old brickwork. There were about fifty people there, and he didn't know many himself! Some relatives he knew, but he hadn't seen them for a while. And his sister was up from London, with a few of her posh 'freeloading' university friends.
We were there about an hour before the nuptuals. And we were in a small bar area, just for the wedding party. Free champagne, or orange juice. Here he is with a glass of champers.
What was funny was he was moaning that his mum had been moaning at him for weeks not to get drunk, and after the serious business was over she was still nagging him, with me assuring her I'd kep an eye on him! He was actually sober when he stepped back & knocked over a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket on a stand, sending ice, water, & the champers across the carpet! Which was hilarious! And he had no shame in claiming the dregs that remained in the bottle as a top up! Which might sound a bit 'pikey', but it's also got a touch of class in my book!
I'd never been to a civil wedding before, and it was quite short and sweet. Also quite amusing, as his mum was clearly very nervous, but she got through it! I sat near the back, as I was only a minor guest, on my own & it was surprisingly emotional. I wasn't so much moved by the event, as realising what I would miss out on. Not the 'wedding' thing. But a 'civil ceremony'. Although I'm a lot more comfortable with being gay than I was, I can't see myself ever finding a partner. I'm not particularly attractive & my teeth are a complete mess, missing & smashed & crooked. I don't have any social skills, and wouldn't know where, or how, to start looking for a boyfriend. I'm totally resigned to never being in a relationship & will only have pick ups fom the internet or sex in toilets. I felt happy for them but also sad for me, and I had to be quite strong to hold back some tears.
After the deed was done, and the marriage register signed,it was back upstairs for the real drinking to commence, with a free bar for the night! Fucking great! Where the bloody hell were they when I was still drinking? Which probably answers itself. Nobody in their right mind would have asked me to such occasions . One time I was it was for the wedding of one of my old friends Runner, who is a Millwall fan, who I knew a an old drinking partner from the Hamlet. I thought it was a great evening, the beer was flowing, I'd caned as much wine as possible during the meal, just because you could, even though I wasn't a wine drinker, & that was it really. Except the next day my brother tried to say I was a bit out of order having a go at the Italian woman, and making her cry. Truth is I haven't a clue what I said, & still don't to this day. And don't have a clue who she was, except she was someone's partner at the bash. That's an alcoholic for you. I am ashamed, but I don't regret, because you can't look back as that will screw you up. The only sorrow I have is that I don't know who she is to make amends.
There was a break before the dancing and celebratory drinking kicked in. The cellar had been relaid out, into two long tables for the meal, which was a sit down buffet, hot food; with the family table at the top. Now for me I prefer a good old fashioned 'working class' buffet. Triangular sandwiches, cheese & pineapple on a stick, bowl of jellied eels, chicken drumsticks, dips, assorted party 'crap' from Iceland...you know the spread! But this was nice. And no chips or even potatoes in site! Pasta, vegetables (which I ignored!), a noodle dish, with crunchy sort of vegetable crap in it (which dare I say it but I don't know what on earth that shit was but it tasted ok!), satay chicken, and slices of roast beef & lamb. Presumably no pork at the insistence of the new-jew Cookie! And there was enough to go up for a second plateful if you wished, which naturally I did. As I say, I'm more at home with a 'council estate platter', but that's for me to say. NOT the posh lot sat by me from the university. They actually expressed genuine surprise that it was acceptable tucker. Muttering, but not too loudly in case anyone heard them, they expected pinapple & cheese on a stick, & lots of sausage rolls. I really had to bite my tongue & count to ten to keep my mouth shut & not create a scene. fucking poncy stuck up toffee nosed twats! But it was good grub, I'd have been happy with sausage rolls, unlike them, but this was actually posh for me! I don't know if they were expecting a delivery from Iceland, or what!
The speeches came next, and they were short and sweet. It was strange because Cabbie, the groom, had his brother in law as the best man, and he'd hardly met Cookie's mum. But he seemed alright. His missus also said a few words at the end, and it really struck a chord with me. She mentioned she saw the true happiness in Cabbie's smile, when she first met them together. And that was just like christmas 2007, when my brother Mook, who had been married for over twenty years had split, and then met his now fiancee Mountie. She came over for the first time that christmas, & we (myself & sisters) all met her for the first time then. A few days after she went home he asked me what I thought, and he was dead nervous about it, which was unusual for him. I had to think carefully about my reply. I had to say I'd honestly never seen him so happy in his entire life! So I could see where the woman at the top table was coming from today.
Even in the midst of middle age people can find happiness, which will be for the beginning of the rest of their lives. I don't think I will ever experience this, but for a brief moment it would be wonderful to imagine, but I shut that out quickly as it's too depressing to contemplate reality.
Before the wedding yesterday I was actually dreading the whole afternoon.Sitting in the small bar, sipping orange juice, not knowing anyone apart from Cookie. Wondering how on earth I'd try to stretch conversation out, as everyone else got progressively drunk around me. I was desperately trying to work out how soon I could sneak out, without appearing rude. With between six or seven my target-at the latest!
But it didn't quite work like that. It actually turned out a pleasant evening! This is how 'normal' people have a good time! Despite almost seven years sobriety I still can't get over how 'slowly' ordinary people drink. And with a 'free bar' too! But then I suppose that's simply another symptom of alcoholism that never goes away. Not being able to consider drink rationally.
After downstairs was set for the evening the happy couple cut the cake.
This was later cut up into small pieces, and put into napkins, for eveyone to take a piece home, which is traditional. Which I did, but maybe one ot two extra 'slipped' into my pockets, and I ended up with a greedy, 'pikey' six pieces! And it was all delicious! Sometimes you can ignore watching your sugar intake with diabetes 2! (I hope) Well I'm not dead, and it was a rare treat!
Then they had the 'first dance'
When that was done it was time to 'disappear'. Not sneak off early as planned, I had surprised myself by enjoying myself, but to avoid getting roped into dancing! I simply can't dance. Never have done & don't know how to! Through my teenage years I avoided the 'teenybop' discos, because all my mates tried to cop off with girls & I didn't fancy them, so didn't like them things. Scared in case my mates got me to talk about & to girls, when I fancied the boys. Then, as I got older, I simply 'fell in love' with drink, instead of going to gay clubs, and besides I can't dance anyway! Excuses, excuses maybe? But another reason I'll always be lonely without a partner...
There was a smoking area outside, not that I smoke. But it was somewhere to 'escape' from the dancing downstairs, to just chill out and chat, it was actually nice to see Cookie talk to some old relatives, and start to relax. He insisted I take a few photos of him with them for for his American friends. I'm not sure if he wanted me to include them all on here, but what the heck!
This one is with his mum & sister.
Here he is with his 'new dad'!
This is a snap with two of his uncles. The one on the left had a jokey syrup with him...
Which Cookie took a shine to! ;-)
There was also a yard behind the bar, below the smoking balcony, which was closed off. In the middle was alone palm tree. no tables, chairs, nothing! Presumably at the beginning of a 'makeover' for the coming summer months. There were wires coming out of the paving stones, I would guess for those great patio heater stands. They are great to stand under at dusk. If ever I had a proper life, and a garden and money, I'd get one for outside! for some reason Cookie wanted his photo taken with it.
I don't know what a 'Freudian' type would have made of this. A lone tree, surrounded by emptiness & Cookie. How would you interpret his life from that? I'm not going to answer my rhetorical question. Those in glass houses & all that...
Thankfully, from my point of view, his nazi mate, who he'd asked along didn't show. I somehow didn't thnk I'd want to be in his company, and would have told him so in no uncertain terms. Which would have been a shame on Cookie, as it might have taken a bit of the shine off of his day. But then he shouldn't be making excuses for cunts like that anyway!
One of his ex-work mates Security did show, and he was actually a decent bloke.
To be honest they did talk '(ex)shop' a bit too much for my liking. But then, if it wasn't for his recent spell in prison Cookie would still be happily employed in that field, rather than currently on the rock & roll. And they didn't rabbit on about work in a boring way, so I didn't mind really.
There was another bloke we chatted to & what a prat he was! Cookie mentioned that he was looking into maybe moving abroad to make a new start, & that set White-Van off! He moaned about all the foreigners, & illegals, caliming all the benefits & sponging off the state, when your Englishmen couldn't get anything. He ranted about Albanians & Kosovans who smoked, drove cars, and all had big screen plasma televisions on their walls! not to mention taking our jobs while signing on. And how did he know this? He owned properties which he rented out to loads of them, & saw their flash lifestyles when he went round to collect their rent! Oh the irony! Just a pity I didn't have the facts to hand! What a tosser!
I dread to think how much I had to drink. I was overdosed on J2O! The funny thing was that whenever I went to the bar and asked for a Becks, vodka, & a J2O the barmaids asked what flavour J2O I wanted. They couldn't quite grasp the fact I couldn't care less and just said that any of them would do!
Beer must make you want to piss more, as it was quite a while before I had a slash. So I thought Cookie had been joking when he said that he had pissed into the sinks, rather than the urinals, before he realised his mistake, as they looked the same!
But you know what..he had a point!
All too soon it was gone half past ten at night, and I had to bid my goodbyes, and say my thank yous,Cookie struggled to get through the cellar bar wothout getting grabbed for a boogie!
He managed to 'escape' their clutches by insisting he had to walk me up to the station, which they fell for!
And as we were strolling up Rochester High Street 'Star Wars' fan Cookie bumped into a Stormtrooper! I kid you not! He wanted his photo taken, but bottled it, I knew he'd regret it & made him ask to pose for a snap!
And on that bizarre note I bade my farewells, ending up on the 23.05 train back to London!
Stuffing my face on bits of wedding cake, happy to know that an old friendship was getting cemented again, though after he reads all this I'm not so sure! ;-)
Why the exclamation marks? I know I overuse them in my puntuation generally, but the reason I put some there was because it's so rare I go to one, & I've not been to any at all in my almost seven years of sobriety. So the appeal of a free bar didn't hold much appeal. Truth is I didn't much fancy it at all...
A few weeks ago my 'mate' Cookie gave me a bell & asked if I wanted to pop down to Rochester because his mum was getting married. I've met her a couple of times before & she's a nice lady. But I certainly couldn't say I really know her, or the family.
It was strange, because on the one hand Cookie invited me, but on the other hand I still wasn't sure if I wanted to be in his company for such a personal event. Hard to explain without going over a lot of previous, but I'll give it a go,while trying to be brief at the same time. ...
We've known each other for over a dozen years or more, we got to know each other through football, when he started popping down the Hamlet when he was about sixteen or so. I got to know him quite well, and I'd always support him & back him up when I could, as friends do. In September 2007 he even treated me to a long wekeend in Berlin, which I couldn't afford.
But I also had a habit of taking the piss out of him ,as he did of me. And I posted something on his blog which he took umbrage at. And then it got personal. He attacked me on his, so I responded. He then said some really nasty stuff on his, real hurtful vitriolic stuff. Not just personal but totally evil. I could really have got personal & played 'tit for tat' & verbally stuck the knife into him from the past when we were a lot closer, but chose not to. I didn't need to sink to that nasty level. And the friendship was over.
I was saddened, but not totally upset. For the simple reason was I felt I that I hadn't done too much wrong & my conscience was clear. As far as I was concerned it wasn't me who had problems but him.
Out of the blue, just under six months ago, I got texts from him apologising. I knew he'd been back in prison, what for I've never asked. To be perfectly honest I didn't know what to think. I wasn't sure if I wanted to resume a friendship after what he'd said. I didn't need all this shit, and I like to think I'm loyal to my friends & always will be while they're my friends. That is what friendship is all about. But once that friendship is broken it's over. A bond is gone that can never be joined again. But bridges can be rebuilt, & I am glad he got back in touch, as despite everything, I did miss his friendship & he will always mean a lot to me, no matter what.
I thought long and hard as to whether to speak to him & meet up with him now and again. And I really do mean long and hard. And you know what? I'm glad I did. I don't have many friends, and neither does he. It might be partly selfish on my part, but I still care about him a lot.
He's still the fool, and talks a lot of nonsense, & don't get me started on his religious mumbo jumbo & some of the other company he keeps! Well ok, now I've mentioned it...he's converting to judaism, which is his choice, but.. and this is a BIG BUT.. one of his other mates is Jerry, a nazi white supremacist, who has been to the Fatherland that is Germany to attend right wing festivals! A Jew whose best mate is a Holocaust denier! You couldn't make it up! Someone please knock some sense into him because I can't!
Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, the wedding!
I wore a shirt, which was smart for me, though I didn't go 'suited and booted'. A bit difficult as I don't possess a whistle. But I was assured it would be ok by him. Just as well, because he wasn't wearing one either! As you can see from this snap, as he 'blended in' with everyone else in the front row!-
But, to be fair, it was a smart top he's got on.
He met me at Rochester station, and we popped into Baggins,
And had a quick wander round the Guildhall. ,which includes some of the maritime history on the Medway towns.
Too much information for Cookie, his brain was starting to go into overdrive, so he needed a liedown...
And so, after all that culture, we went to the bar where the ceremony was. A smart bar on the High Street. With the actual ceremony in the basement downstairs, which was an crypt type place, and well smart with old brickwork. There were about fifty people there, and he didn't know many himself! Some relatives he knew, but he hadn't seen them for a while. And his sister was up from London, with a few of her posh 'freeloading' university friends.
We were there about an hour before the nuptuals. And we were in a small bar area, just for the wedding party. Free champagne, or orange juice. Here he is with a glass of champers.
What was funny was he was moaning that his mum had been moaning at him for weeks not to get drunk, and after the serious business was over she was still nagging him, with me assuring her I'd kep an eye on him! He was actually sober when he stepped back & knocked over a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket on a stand, sending ice, water, & the champers across the carpet! Which was hilarious! And he had no shame in claiming the dregs that remained in the bottle as a top up! Which might sound a bit 'pikey', but it's also got a touch of class in my book!
I'd never been to a civil wedding before, and it was quite short and sweet. Also quite amusing, as his mum was clearly very nervous, but she got through it! I sat near the back, as I was only a minor guest, on my own & it was surprisingly emotional. I wasn't so much moved by the event, as realising what I would miss out on. Not the 'wedding' thing. But a 'civil ceremony'. Although I'm a lot more comfortable with being gay than I was, I can't see myself ever finding a partner. I'm not particularly attractive & my teeth are a complete mess, missing & smashed & crooked. I don't have any social skills, and wouldn't know where, or how, to start looking for a boyfriend. I'm totally resigned to never being in a relationship & will only have pick ups fom the internet or sex in toilets. I felt happy for them but also sad for me, and I had to be quite strong to hold back some tears.
After the deed was done, and the marriage register signed,it was back upstairs for the real drinking to commence, with a free bar for the night! Fucking great! Where the bloody hell were they when I was still drinking? Which probably answers itself. Nobody in their right mind would have asked me to such occasions . One time I was it was for the wedding of one of my old friends Runner, who is a Millwall fan, who I knew a an old drinking partner from the Hamlet. I thought it was a great evening, the beer was flowing, I'd caned as much wine as possible during the meal, just because you could, even though I wasn't a wine drinker, & that was it really. Except the next day my brother tried to say I was a bit out of order having a go at the Italian woman, and making her cry. Truth is I haven't a clue what I said, & still don't to this day. And don't have a clue who she was, except she was someone's partner at the bash. That's an alcoholic for you. I am ashamed, but I don't regret, because you can't look back as that will screw you up. The only sorrow I have is that I don't know who she is to make amends.
There was a break before the dancing and celebratory drinking kicked in. The cellar had been relaid out, into two long tables for the meal, which was a sit down buffet, hot food; with the family table at the top. Now for me I prefer a good old fashioned 'working class' buffet. Triangular sandwiches, cheese & pineapple on a stick, bowl of jellied eels, chicken drumsticks, dips, assorted party 'crap' from Iceland...you know the spread! But this was nice. And no chips or even potatoes in site! Pasta, vegetables (which I ignored!), a noodle dish, with crunchy sort of vegetable crap in it (which dare I say it but I don't know what on earth that shit was but it tasted ok!), satay chicken, and slices of roast beef & lamb. Presumably no pork at the insistence of the new-jew Cookie! And there was enough to go up for a second plateful if you wished, which naturally I did. As I say, I'm more at home with a 'council estate platter', but that's for me to say. NOT the posh lot sat by me from the university. They actually expressed genuine surprise that it was acceptable tucker. Muttering, but not too loudly in case anyone heard them, they expected pinapple & cheese on a stick, & lots of sausage rolls. I really had to bite my tongue & count to ten to keep my mouth shut & not create a scene. fucking poncy stuck up toffee nosed twats! But it was good grub, I'd have been happy with sausage rolls, unlike them, but this was actually posh for me! I don't know if they were expecting a delivery from Iceland, or what!
The speeches came next, and they were short and sweet. It was strange because Cabbie, the groom, had his brother in law as the best man, and he'd hardly met Cookie's mum. But he seemed alright. His missus also said a few words at the end, and it really struck a chord with me. She mentioned she saw the true happiness in Cabbie's smile, when she first met them together. And that was just like christmas 2007, when my brother Mook, who had been married for over twenty years had split, and then met his now fiancee Mountie. She came over for the first time that christmas, & we (myself & sisters) all met her for the first time then. A few days after she went home he asked me what I thought, and he was dead nervous about it, which was unusual for him. I had to think carefully about my reply. I had to say I'd honestly never seen him so happy in his entire life! So I could see where the woman at the top table was coming from today.
Even in the midst of middle age people can find happiness, which will be for the beginning of the rest of their lives. I don't think I will ever experience this, but for a brief moment it would be wonderful to imagine, but I shut that out quickly as it's too depressing to contemplate reality.
Before the wedding yesterday I was actually dreading the whole afternoon.Sitting in the small bar, sipping orange juice, not knowing anyone apart from Cookie. Wondering how on earth I'd try to stretch conversation out, as everyone else got progressively drunk around me. I was desperately trying to work out how soon I could sneak out, without appearing rude. With between six or seven my target-at the latest!
But it didn't quite work like that. It actually turned out a pleasant evening! This is how 'normal' people have a good time! Despite almost seven years sobriety I still can't get over how 'slowly' ordinary people drink. And with a 'free bar' too! But then I suppose that's simply another symptom of alcoholism that never goes away. Not being able to consider drink rationally.
After downstairs was set for the evening the happy couple cut the cake.
This was later cut up into small pieces, and put into napkins, for eveyone to take a piece home, which is traditional. Which I did, but maybe one ot two extra 'slipped' into my pockets, and I ended up with a greedy, 'pikey' six pieces! And it was all delicious! Sometimes you can ignore watching your sugar intake with diabetes 2! (I hope) Well I'm not dead, and it was a rare treat!
Then they had the 'first dance'
When that was done it was time to 'disappear'. Not sneak off early as planned, I had surprised myself by enjoying myself, but to avoid getting roped into dancing! I simply can't dance. Never have done & don't know how to! Through my teenage years I avoided the 'teenybop' discos, because all my mates tried to cop off with girls & I didn't fancy them, so didn't like them things. Scared in case my mates got me to talk about & to girls, when I fancied the boys. Then, as I got older, I simply 'fell in love' with drink, instead of going to gay clubs, and besides I can't dance anyway! Excuses, excuses maybe? But another reason I'll always be lonely without a partner...
There was a smoking area outside, not that I smoke. But it was somewhere to 'escape' from the dancing downstairs, to just chill out and chat, it was actually nice to see Cookie talk to some old relatives, and start to relax. He insisted I take a few photos of him with them for for his American friends. I'm not sure if he wanted me to include them all on here, but what the heck!
This one is with his mum & sister.
Here he is with his 'new dad'!
This is a snap with two of his uncles. The one on the left had a jokey syrup with him...
Which Cookie took a shine to! ;-)
There was also a yard behind the bar, below the smoking balcony, which was closed off. In the middle was alone palm tree. no tables, chairs, nothing! Presumably at the beginning of a 'makeover' for the coming summer months. There were wires coming out of the paving stones, I would guess for those great patio heater stands. They are great to stand under at dusk. If ever I had a proper life, and a garden and money, I'd get one for outside! for some reason Cookie wanted his photo taken with it.
I don't know what a 'Freudian' type would have made of this. A lone tree, surrounded by emptiness & Cookie. How would you interpret his life from that? I'm not going to answer my rhetorical question. Those in glass houses & all that...
Thankfully, from my point of view, his nazi mate, who he'd asked along didn't show. I somehow didn't thnk I'd want to be in his company, and would have told him so in no uncertain terms. Which would have been a shame on Cookie, as it might have taken a bit of the shine off of his day. But then he shouldn't be making excuses for cunts like that anyway!
One of his ex-work mates Security did show, and he was actually a decent bloke.
To be honest they did talk '(ex)shop' a bit too much for my liking. But then, if it wasn't for his recent spell in prison Cookie would still be happily employed in that field, rather than currently on the rock & roll. And they didn't rabbit on about work in a boring way, so I didn't mind really.
There was another bloke we chatted to & what a prat he was! Cookie mentioned that he was looking into maybe moving abroad to make a new start, & that set White-Van off! He moaned about all the foreigners, & illegals, caliming all the benefits & sponging off the state, when your Englishmen couldn't get anything. He ranted about Albanians & Kosovans who smoked, drove cars, and all had big screen plasma televisions on their walls! not to mention taking our jobs while signing on. And how did he know this? He owned properties which he rented out to loads of them, & saw their flash lifestyles when he went round to collect their rent! Oh the irony! Just a pity I didn't have the facts to hand! What a tosser!
I dread to think how much I had to drink. I was overdosed on J2O! The funny thing was that whenever I went to the bar and asked for a Becks, vodka, & a J2O the barmaids asked what flavour J2O I wanted. They couldn't quite grasp the fact I couldn't care less and just said that any of them would do!
Beer must make you want to piss more, as it was quite a while before I had a slash. So I thought Cookie had been joking when he said that he had pissed into the sinks, rather than the urinals, before he realised his mistake, as they looked the same!
But you know what..he had a point!
All too soon it was gone half past ten at night, and I had to bid my goodbyes, and say my thank yous,Cookie struggled to get through the cellar bar wothout getting grabbed for a boogie!
He managed to 'escape' their clutches by insisting he had to walk me up to the station, which they fell for!
And as we were strolling up Rochester High Street 'Star Wars' fan Cookie bumped into a Stormtrooper! I kid you not! He wanted his photo taken, but bottled it, I knew he'd regret it & made him ask to pose for a snap!
And on that bizarre note I bade my farewells, ending up on the 23.05 train back to London!
Stuffing my face on bits of wedding cake, happy to know that an old friendship was getting cemented again, though after he reads all this I'm not so sure! ;-)
Friday, 10 April 2009
Deepest sympathy...
You would expect a substantial minority of the population to be upset this morning, so if you know any of 'their communtiy' please offer a crumb of comfort & sympathy to them.
Don't overdo it mind. That crumb of comfort' is metaphorical. No need to invite them in for tea and biscuits or you'll never get rid of them!
It's those people who are members of christian sects I'm on about. Actually if you know any Jehovahs you can let them through your door, despite their reputation for people even worse 'doorsteppers' than double glazing salemen they are actually the easiest to get rid of. Sit them down, make them welcome, lull them into a false sense of secuirty. Then go out into the kitchen where they can't see you. Stick a finger up your nose, & have a little twizzle. The bogeys are quite nutricious anyway, and then start gushing a nose bleed. Dash back in with the claret flowing & ask them if they've got a tissue. They soon bugger off!
Today is 'Good Friday'. Which I always find a bit strange, as most of the shops are shut, there's no football as the Hamlet are playing tomorrow, and the Easter Eggs aren't half price in the shops until Tuesday. But each to his own I guess, so 'Good' it is.
It's also the day that Jesus dies on the cross 'for our sins'. Yeah right! You go out and go down the bookies, with a banana in a plastic bag, pretending it's a shooter, & demand the takings. I'm sure when the beak sentences you to ten years he'll change his mind when you tell him: "But, your honour, I'm an innocent man! Jesus Christ died for my sins! He's done thepunishment!"
Jesus Rest In Peace eh? Enjoy while you can, as the crafty git pops back on Sunday. Harry Houdini eat your heart out!
But the fact is today until then he is brown bread. So if yo know any genuine, misguided, bona fide, card carrying bible bashers put your arm round them and confort them in their time of need:
"Sorry to hear about your loss mate"
-Quizical looks.
"Deepest sympathy. Was he ill? He was quite young?"
-"erm who? I don't know anyone who's died"
"Yeah that chap you're always talknig about. The decent sort of bloke...."
-"....???????????????...."
"Oh whatsisname? Magician chap? Oh gawblinmey, it's on the tip of my tongue. Jesus Christ, I should know it...JESUS CHRIST! That's the geezer. Sorry about him snuffing it today. At Easter of all times..."
Don't overdo it mind. That crumb of comfort' is metaphorical. No need to invite them in for tea and biscuits or you'll never get rid of them!
It's those people who are members of christian sects I'm on about. Actually if you know any Jehovahs you can let them through your door, despite their reputation for people even worse 'doorsteppers' than double glazing salemen they are actually the easiest to get rid of. Sit them down, make them welcome, lull them into a false sense of secuirty. Then go out into the kitchen where they can't see you. Stick a finger up your nose, & have a little twizzle. The bogeys are quite nutricious anyway, and then start gushing a nose bleed. Dash back in with the claret flowing & ask them if they've got a tissue. They soon bugger off!
Today is 'Good Friday'. Which I always find a bit strange, as most of the shops are shut, there's no football as the Hamlet are playing tomorrow, and the Easter Eggs aren't half price in the shops until Tuesday. But each to his own I guess, so 'Good' it is.
It's also the day that Jesus dies on the cross 'for our sins'. Yeah right! You go out and go down the bookies, with a banana in a plastic bag, pretending it's a shooter, & demand the takings. I'm sure when the beak sentences you to ten years he'll change his mind when you tell him: "But, your honour, I'm an innocent man! Jesus Christ died for my sins! He's done thepunishment!"
Jesus Rest In Peace eh? Enjoy while you can, as the crafty git pops back on Sunday. Harry Houdini eat your heart out!
But the fact is today until then he is brown bread. So if yo know any genuine, misguided, bona fide, card carrying bible bashers put your arm round them and confort them in their time of need:
"Sorry to hear about your loss mate"
-Quizical looks.
"Deepest sympathy. Was he ill? He was quite young?"
-"erm who? I don't know anyone who's died"
"Yeah that chap you're always talknig about. The decent sort of bloke...."
-"....???????????????...."
"Oh whatsisname? Magician chap? Oh gawblinmey, it's on the tip of my tongue. Jesus Christ, I should know it...JESUS CHRIST! That's the geezer. Sorry about him snuffing it today. At Easter of all times..."
Thursday, 9 April 2009
Real football does NOT involve armchairs!
"Did you see the game last night?" I was asked at work this morning.
"Yes, it wasn't bad, for that standard. Got a bit nippy though..." was my response.
Which is where I lost them. Turns out the football to watch was the European Champions League quarter finals between Liverpool & Chelsea, with Barcelona against Bayern Munich on another digital sports channel. Whaddaya mean? You haven't got a Sky dish on the wall? Tough shit you tight fisted git. Down the pub then, surround by 'lifelong fans' who've never been near a football ground in their life. The most opinionated people in the pub, wearing the newest replica shirts, and they're always right! Who treat you with total distain once they find out you follow a lower division club, or even more pitful, a non-league 'amat-uur' side. What is with people that they can't even pronounce the word amateur properly? And it's NOT amateur it's semi fucking professional you ignorant twat!
You may be a quite interesting person, capable of talking sensibly about football for hours on end. But if you don't go to games just fuck off and stop annoying me! Armchair fans just make me switch up. I reach for my own remote & stop listening. Go away. You bore me! And YES, I am full of contempt for you!
Call me old fashioned, but watching football is something you do standing up. Sure, sometimes you have no choice but to sit down, but at least that's at the ground, with lots of the higher Football League grounds being all seaters nowadays.
Don't get me wrong, I love the atmosphere at big games. But that atmosphere is for grounds. Not pubs! I'd rather watch two sides play down the local park, rather than ducking & diving to try and get a glimpse of a screen in a pub full of pillocks, screaming undying love for 'their boys' despite never having been to watch them in the flesh in their lives!
There's nothing better than watching a game, nomatter what level. But sadly it's never 'in the flesh'. What a 'teasing' expression that is! I'd love to see Cristian Ronaldo ' in the flesh ' on television...what a waste of 'talent' while he's playing or Man. United! ;-)
But I digress! I had a choice last night. Watch one of the European games in a bar, or go to a match. I chose the latter. In what was practically a park. A pitch in the middle of a running track, with no terracing or seating. Three rungs BELOW my team Dulwich Hamlet in the non-league pyramid, which makes it eleven below your Arsenals & Chelseas! Local players who have a run out for the love of the game, paying matchday subs to play! Lewisham Borough versus Rusthall, in the Kent County League Premier Division, case you're wondering. Two one to the hosts, and where it lacked in true quality it made up for in keenness & endeavour. They may not have been the best footballers in the world, but they gave their all. And what more can you ask on a football pitch?
I work every other Saturday, & until seven o'clock at night two evenings a week, so I have to miss more games than I would like to. But it's works that pays the bills, and chips away at my debts, so I can't complain. Despite those restrictions last night was my ninetieth of the season!
And I wouldn't have it any other way! Follow your football down the pub, but I'll be a supporter at REAL games!
"Yes, it wasn't bad, for that standard. Got a bit nippy though..." was my response.
Which is where I lost them. Turns out the football to watch was the European Champions League quarter finals between Liverpool & Chelsea, with Barcelona against Bayern Munich on another digital sports channel. Whaddaya mean? You haven't got a Sky dish on the wall? Tough shit you tight fisted git. Down the pub then, surround by 'lifelong fans' who've never been near a football ground in their life. The most opinionated people in the pub, wearing the newest replica shirts, and they're always right! Who treat you with total distain once they find out you follow a lower division club, or even more pitful, a non-league 'amat-uur' side. What is with people that they can't even pronounce the word amateur properly? And it's NOT amateur it's semi fucking professional you ignorant twat!
You may be a quite interesting person, capable of talking sensibly about football for hours on end. But if you don't go to games just fuck off and stop annoying me! Armchair fans just make me switch up. I reach for my own remote & stop listening. Go away. You bore me! And YES, I am full of contempt for you!
Call me old fashioned, but watching football is something you do standing up. Sure, sometimes you have no choice but to sit down, but at least that's at the ground, with lots of the higher Football League grounds being all seaters nowadays.
Don't get me wrong, I love the atmosphere at big games. But that atmosphere is for grounds. Not pubs! I'd rather watch two sides play down the local park, rather than ducking & diving to try and get a glimpse of a screen in a pub full of pillocks, screaming undying love for 'their boys' despite never having been to watch them in the flesh in their lives!
There's nothing better than watching a game, nomatter what level. But sadly it's never 'in the flesh'. What a 'teasing' expression that is! I'd love to see Cristian Ronaldo ' in the flesh ' on television...what a waste of 'talent' while he's playing or Man. United! ;-)
But I digress! I had a choice last night. Watch one of the European games in a bar, or go to a match. I chose the latter. In what was practically a park. A pitch in the middle of a running track, with no terracing or seating. Three rungs BELOW my team Dulwich Hamlet in the non-league pyramid, which makes it eleven below your Arsenals & Chelseas! Local players who have a run out for the love of the game, paying matchday subs to play! Lewisham Borough versus Rusthall, in the Kent County League Premier Division, case you're wondering. Two one to the hosts, and where it lacked in true quality it made up for in keenness & endeavour. They may not have been the best footballers in the world, but they gave their all. And what more can you ask on a football pitch?
I work every other Saturday, & until seven o'clock at night two evenings a week, so I have to miss more games than I would like to. But it's works that pays the bills, and chips away at my debts, so I can't complain. Despite those restrictions last night was my ninetieth of the season!
And I wouldn't have it any other way! Follow your football down the pub, but I'll be a supporter at REAL games!
Tuesday, 7 April 2009
You're worse than Richard & Judy!
With the mass Premiership armchair orientated modern 'footie' world how galling must it be when your team only makes the news because your average crowd is more than the viewing figures for Richard & Judy & their bookclub on some obscure digital channel called Watch, which is ironic as nobody is actually watching it!
Apparently the viewing figures are a mere blip of 5,000. With Northampton Town, nicknamed the Cobblers, even getting more than them! Which sadly isn't even totally true, as although more of Northampton Town had more than five thousand at their last home match-5,025 to be exact-against Swindon Town, they have had ten home gates with less than the Richard & Judy five thousand through the turnstiles.
So you really can sing "You're worse than Richard & Judy!" to the Cobblers! Which doesn't prove anything apart from the fact that tabloid journalism is a load of old cobblers, as they try to make a news story out of Richard & Judy getting so few punters tuning in. When in actual fact it's not a shock at all. Let's face it what the fuck is the Watch TV channel & who actually cares?
And more pertinantly why does it exist? How can they make money? Richard & Judy clearly couldn't care less if anybody tunes in, they're only doing it for the benefit of their wallet. Maybe a bit harsh, but while I don't know their personal bank balances they certainly don't need to 'prostitute' themselves out to obscure digital channels to put food on their dinner tables. Though you can't blame them mind, as they're a bit high profile to try that nipping past the tills trick again I suppose!
The only reason people have digital telly is for access to the pay to watch sports channels and the films. There is freeview type channels now, and with the price of a digibox thingymajig being around fifty quid or so, probably much less, you do get access to the BBC3 & BBC4 type stuff, as well as the Channel Four & Five ones that seem to show repeats of sme, admittedly, half decent American shows. You'll have worked out by now I haven't really got a scooby what all this digital lark is all about. Which shouldn't surprise you.
I've got an ordinary telly, & wasn't planning to get a digital box until forced to, whenever the analogue is switched off in the London area, prior to the whole country going 'modern' by 2012. My telly has five channels. More than enough usually to find something to watch. And if not, when I'm not on my laptop like I am now blogging, I have several hundred unwatched videos & DVDsfor those 'rainy days' when there's crap on all five terrestrial channels. Or as I prefer to call them-'normal television'.
I do actually, believe it or not, possess a digital box receiver for my telly. A mate of mine gave me his old one just before Christmas. And I'm sure there is some decent obscure stuff out there. Documentaries maybe. Crime dramas, & comedy. But when would I have the chance to watch them? Very rarely. So the box, or whatever it is as I haven't even looked at it, still sits in the carrier bag he gave it to me in.
So apologies to you Richard & Judy, it's down to lazy bastards like me that nobody's watching you, not because we can't be bothered, but because we can't be bothered to set up our pikeyed digital receivers!*
* I lied. Give me Paul O'Grady, followed by The Simpsons, for my 'teatime' viewing on a Wednesday when I'm not working anyday! ;-)
Apparently the viewing figures are a mere blip of 5,000. With Northampton Town, nicknamed the Cobblers, even getting more than them! Which sadly isn't even totally true, as although more of Northampton Town had more than five thousand at their last home match-5,025 to be exact-against Swindon Town, they have had ten home gates with less than the Richard & Judy five thousand through the turnstiles.
So you really can sing "You're worse than Richard & Judy!" to the Cobblers! Which doesn't prove anything apart from the fact that tabloid journalism is a load of old cobblers, as they try to make a news story out of Richard & Judy getting so few punters tuning in. When in actual fact it's not a shock at all. Let's face it what the fuck is the Watch TV channel & who actually cares?
And more pertinantly why does it exist? How can they make money? Richard & Judy clearly couldn't care less if anybody tunes in, they're only doing it for the benefit of their wallet. Maybe a bit harsh, but while I don't know their personal bank balances they certainly don't need to 'prostitute' themselves out to obscure digital channels to put food on their dinner tables. Though you can't blame them mind, as they're a bit high profile to try that nipping past the tills trick again I suppose!
The only reason people have digital telly is for access to the pay to watch sports channels and the films. There is freeview type channels now, and with the price of a digibox thingymajig being around fifty quid or so, probably much less, you do get access to the BBC3 & BBC4 type stuff, as well as the Channel Four & Five ones that seem to show repeats of sme, admittedly, half decent American shows. You'll have worked out by now I haven't really got a scooby what all this digital lark is all about. Which shouldn't surprise you.
I've got an ordinary telly, & wasn't planning to get a digital box until forced to, whenever the analogue is switched off in the London area, prior to the whole country going 'modern' by 2012. My telly has five channels. More than enough usually to find something to watch. And if not, when I'm not on my laptop like I am now blogging, I have several hundred unwatched videos & DVDsfor those 'rainy days' when there's crap on all five terrestrial channels. Or as I prefer to call them-'normal television'.
I do actually, believe it or not, possess a digital box receiver for my telly. A mate of mine gave me his old one just before Christmas. And I'm sure there is some decent obscure stuff out there. Documentaries maybe. Crime dramas, & comedy. But when would I have the chance to watch them? Very rarely. So the box, or whatever it is as I haven't even looked at it, still sits in the carrier bag he gave it to me in.
So apologies to you Richard & Judy, it's down to lazy bastards like me that nobody's watching you, not because we can't be bothered, but because we can't be bothered to set up our pikeyed digital receivers!*
* I lied. Give me Paul O'Grady, followed by The Simpsons, for my 'teatime' viewing on a Wednesday when I'm not working anyday! ;-)
Sunday, 5 April 2009
If you think you're Jaded...
And now she's laid to rest. Farewell Princess Jade of Bermondsey-by-East-Angular! If you're sick of the media hype surrounding the death of Jade Goody then spare a thought for those of us who live or work in Bermondsey itself.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not heartless. It was extremely sad that a young mother only 27 years old died of cancer. But to read the papers you'd think she was cross of Mother Teresa, Princess Diana & erm, that's about it, both rolled into one.
So who exactly was she? A dozy cow who got lucky on a reality television programme. And got extremely rich as a result. I don't hold that against her, she happened to be in the right place at the right time. But to hold her up as some latter day saint is an absolute nonsense.
It's said she was extremely brave to go so public on her illness, and that she has saved so many lives by telling young women to go for smear tests. Which isn't really that brave at all if you think it through. Here is a young woman who was let down by her doctors, who failed to spot her cancer in time to give a fighting chance of beating it. By speaking out she is reacting naturally to the 'incompetence' of the quacks who I have no doubt she feels failed her.
And of course she was 'extremely brave' to have the cameras follow her every step closer to death, by having camera crews follow her 24/7. And what a caring woman she was. Doing it 'for the boys'. Well if that gave her a focus who am I to criticise? But I would have more sympathy if she wasn't grabbing the hundreds of thousands, maybe even a million or two, to 'look after them' in their future private school education which is as far a cry from her 'Bermondsey roots' than you ever thought possible. Caring to the end or money grabbing? I know which one I'd go for!
The hypocracy of the press is astounding, having pilloried her in life she's their heroine in death. As is the gullibility of so many people. Not just the lemmings who religiously buy the currant bun every day, & were lapping up the twelve page 'Jade Remembered' pull out in the News of the Screws this morning. Take Stephen Fry, widely acknowledged as one of the funniest & most intelligent persons on our televesions screens. Now either he's being too clever for his own good (translation:Whoosh! That's gone right over my own head) or he's had another breakdown and lost the plot. He came out with bit of verbal dihorria-"A Princess Di from the wrong side of the tracks. All impulsive spirit and smiles." Really?
The only thing she had in common with Diana was that they were both relatively thick. But at least Diana cared about others. Whether it be HIV patients,sick children in Great Ormond Street, or even ploitically campaigning against the use of land mines. Jade? She was happy to mak racist jibes about her fellow contestants on Celebrity Big Brother. The only thing she cared about was her own earning potential. Ignorance is not an excuse for racism. No matter how stupid you may be making 'jokes' by bullying Shilpa Shitty, or whatever her name was on CBB, WAS racism. Even little kids who watch CBeebies rather that 'Celebrity BeeBee' could have told her that.
As I've stated, I'm sorry she's died, but not her personally. Which reads, at first glance, like a nasty attack on her. But it's not. What I mean is it's tragic when ANY person dies that young from cancer. She's not brave. They are all brave. Famous or not famous. I'd actually go to say those ordinary folk who are dying from terminal illnesses are a lot braver as they have to stare death in the eye without the security of knowing they can use their fame to provide for their family.
When Diana died mass hysteria took over the country. Shamefully so. I'm proud to say I took no part of it. In fact I got called into the office at work as I worked in a library at the time, though I'm not there now. All my colleagues knew I had no time for the monarchy. Most of the staff got sucked in by her death caused not just by a drunk driver, but by the fact she thought she didn't have to wear a seat belt. No doubt not ideal if she wanted to give Dodi a blow job as they sped through Paris...
Some colleagues found a couple of books on her & got some flowers, setting up a little remembrance display by the entrance. And seemed surprised and moved when I found some more. And then for some reason took offence when I topically exapanded it. I grabbed some books on car maintenance, first aid, wills & other stuff! Some people are so ungrateful when you try to help!
My mum was a fervent royalist. We always ruined Christmas dinners past when we took the piss during the Queens speech, as she called for silence, & inevitably made the 'Fred Scuttle' Benny Hill type salute during the playing of the national anthem at the end of it! What I didn't realise, until a good few years after my mum had died, was that only a few hours after the crash in the Paris tunnel she was caught on the news cameras at six AM in the morning, one of the first people to lay flowers down at Kensington Palace! Which eventually became a huge carpet of flowers. I'm sure her death is fondly recalled by flower shops up and down the country! In these recession hit times at least the florists of Bermondsey would never have had it so good. Or did they?
I work in Bermondsey, near to the Blue Market. Well they call it a 'market' but it's actually half a dozen stalls if you're lucky. But that's by the by. Apparently Jade's granddad used to run a stall here. And some locals started sitcking bunches of flowers to a tree, once she'd snuffed it. How long before the black and white of the zebra crossing would resemble a multi coloured carpet of flowers as they stretched across the pavement & beyond?
Well despite her being "Bermondsey's Princess" (as appointed by Fleet Street hacks & assorted local nutters) they never quite engulfed the area:
That was it less than twenty four hours before Bermondsey would come to a supposed standstill for her funeral.
Though to be fair there was a note attached:
So being the inquisitive kind I was curious to see exactly how many had taken their tribute to be 'near Jade' (Good grief! Pass the sick bucket per-lease!) to Albins, by Southwark Park. Would part of the park itself act as an 'overspill' for the 'Diana for Dummies'. Hmm...a good working title for an unofficial Jade biography that, but I digress. After work, seeing as it was a nice sunny day coming to an end, I strolled through the park to 'pay my respects' & silently laugh at the crowds gathering & laying flowers. Imagine to my surprise that there were no queues, nor huge lawns of floral tributes. Yes, there were some, but hardly Diana-esque for such a real peoples' Peoples' Princess:
The next morning I was in Bermondsey for work. The funeral cortege was due to stop at the blue at a quarter to nine, & I started work at nine. I'd read that 'her own people' from Bermondsey were going to turn out in their thousands upon thousands. Yeah right! Certainly there were crowds, but only to be nosey. Hundreds there were, but mostly grannies, & their daughters, and their daughters...simply to say they were there, and to show off their snaps on their mobiles. A bit like me actually. Except I just happened to be on my way to work as the hearse had left the Blue & was turning down Southwark Park Road. Abd strangely enough, traffic was still flowing, buses going past, and the pavements weren't ten deep with rivers of tears flowing along the gutters, except when the paparazzi were snapping away as people desperately tried to get their muge etched with mock-grief in the papers.
I thought it rather apt that for a pseudo-celebrity she had a mock copper on a bike to control the traffic. Funny how a dozen protesters in copycat uniforms can be nicked on the anti G20 demo for impersonating the old bill while in an armoured car, but this bloke can do what he likes on his motorbike!
And I hope they never dropped any of those flowers. That'll be an £80 on the spot fine for littering! ;-)
But whom am I to 'mock' ordinary people for paying their respects? When they do a good job of that themselves?
'I came here today because Jade was a great mum.That she was a star is irrelevant, it doesn't come into it. She was a great mother to her kids who she adored.'
Pardon? you mean she was like the vast majority of mothers in Bermondsey, & other inner city areas? In which case how come you don't have a season ticket for every mother who has the same qualities but dies, up at the crematorium at Brenchley Gardens? Nothing to do with her being a star? Bollocks!
To sum up exactly how stupid people are who never met her in their life, how about this?
"I have followed her since she was on Big Brother and she became part of my life. She was a very special human being'. Said the crazy stalker who subscribed to all the obscure cable channels which Jade starred in/padded out.
Now that she's dead a buried, in the ground under the roots of a private wooded burial ground in Essex, far away from her roots in Bermondsey, the talk will be how she might be remembered locally. Already there's suggestions of the council estate where she grew up on, the Dickens Estate, named after some old fshioned writer chap, to be re-named after her! And even a statue erected in her memory! By all means I'd love to see a statue. Paid for by public subscription..then we'd see how much 'her people' loved her, if they had to dip into their own pockets! And where to put it up? The Blue Market Place maybe? Outside her old block of flats? Maybe not. Though i'd be more than happy to have a plaque put on her old block. Maybe have a part of it named after her. How does the 'Jade Goody Rubbish Chute' sound?
I can't believe a permanent memorial hasn't been suggested for her, on the vacant fourth plinth at Trafalgar Square? But why so far. Why not here?
The empty 'first plinth' outside Rotherhithe Library, where it couldn't be safer, as Bermonsey people always look after their own. Just like the previous 'Bermondsey Boy' Tommy Steele statue, which someone 'arf inched & melted down for scrap many years ago! Perfect!
Don't get me wrong. I'm not heartless. It was extremely sad that a young mother only 27 years old died of cancer. But to read the papers you'd think she was cross of Mother Teresa, Princess Diana & erm, that's about it, both rolled into one.
So who exactly was she? A dozy cow who got lucky on a reality television programme. And got extremely rich as a result. I don't hold that against her, she happened to be in the right place at the right time. But to hold her up as some latter day saint is an absolute nonsense.
It's said she was extremely brave to go so public on her illness, and that she has saved so many lives by telling young women to go for smear tests. Which isn't really that brave at all if you think it through. Here is a young woman who was let down by her doctors, who failed to spot her cancer in time to give a fighting chance of beating it. By speaking out she is reacting naturally to the 'incompetence' of the quacks who I have no doubt she feels failed her.
And of course she was 'extremely brave' to have the cameras follow her every step closer to death, by having camera crews follow her 24/7. And what a caring woman she was. Doing it 'for the boys'. Well if that gave her a focus who am I to criticise? But I would have more sympathy if she wasn't grabbing the hundreds of thousands, maybe even a million or two, to 'look after them' in their future private school education which is as far a cry from her 'Bermondsey roots' than you ever thought possible. Caring to the end or money grabbing? I know which one I'd go for!
The hypocracy of the press is astounding, having pilloried her in life she's their heroine in death. As is the gullibility of so many people. Not just the lemmings who religiously buy the currant bun every day, & were lapping up the twelve page 'Jade Remembered' pull out in the News of the Screws this morning. Take Stephen Fry, widely acknowledged as one of the funniest & most intelligent persons on our televesions screens. Now either he's being too clever for his own good (translation:Whoosh! That's gone right over my own head) or he's had another breakdown and lost the plot. He came out with bit of verbal dihorria-"A Princess Di from the wrong side of the tracks. All impulsive spirit and smiles." Really?
The only thing she had in common with Diana was that they were both relatively thick. But at least Diana cared about others. Whether it be HIV patients,sick children in Great Ormond Street, or even ploitically campaigning against the use of land mines. Jade? She was happy to mak racist jibes about her fellow contestants on Celebrity Big Brother. The only thing she cared about was her own earning potential. Ignorance is not an excuse for racism. No matter how stupid you may be making 'jokes' by bullying Shilpa Shitty, or whatever her name was on CBB, WAS racism. Even little kids who watch CBeebies rather that 'Celebrity BeeBee' could have told her that.
As I've stated, I'm sorry she's died, but not her personally. Which reads, at first glance, like a nasty attack on her. But it's not. What I mean is it's tragic when ANY person dies that young from cancer. She's not brave. They are all brave. Famous or not famous. I'd actually go to say those ordinary folk who are dying from terminal illnesses are a lot braver as they have to stare death in the eye without the security of knowing they can use their fame to provide for their family.
When Diana died mass hysteria took over the country. Shamefully so. I'm proud to say I took no part of it. In fact I got called into the office at work as I worked in a library at the time, though I'm not there now. All my colleagues knew I had no time for the monarchy. Most of the staff got sucked in by her death caused not just by a drunk driver, but by the fact she thought she didn't have to wear a seat belt. No doubt not ideal if she wanted to give Dodi a blow job as they sped through Paris...
Some colleagues found a couple of books on her & got some flowers, setting up a little remembrance display by the entrance. And seemed surprised and moved when I found some more. And then for some reason took offence when I topically exapanded it. I grabbed some books on car maintenance, first aid, wills & other stuff! Some people are so ungrateful when you try to help!
My mum was a fervent royalist. We always ruined Christmas dinners past when we took the piss during the Queens speech, as she called for silence, & inevitably made the 'Fred Scuttle' Benny Hill type salute during the playing of the national anthem at the end of it! What I didn't realise, until a good few years after my mum had died, was that only a few hours after the crash in the Paris tunnel she was caught on the news cameras at six AM in the morning, one of the first people to lay flowers down at Kensington Palace! Which eventually became a huge carpet of flowers. I'm sure her death is fondly recalled by flower shops up and down the country! In these recession hit times at least the florists of Bermondsey would never have had it so good. Or did they?
I work in Bermondsey, near to the Blue Market. Well they call it a 'market' but it's actually half a dozen stalls if you're lucky. But that's by the by. Apparently Jade's granddad used to run a stall here. And some locals started sitcking bunches of flowers to a tree, once she'd snuffed it. How long before the black and white of the zebra crossing would resemble a multi coloured carpet of flowers as they stretched across the pavement & beyond?
Well despite her being "Bermondsey's Princess" (as appointed by Fleet Street hacks & assorted local nutters) they never quite engulfed the area:
That was it less than twenty four hours before Bermondsey would come to a supposed standstill for her funeral.
Though to be fair there was a note attached:
So being the inquisitive kind I was curious to see exactly how many had taken their tribute to be 'near Jade' (Good grief! Pass the sick bucket per-lease!) to Albins, by Southwark Park. Would part of the park itself act as an 'overspill' for the 'Diana for Dummies'. Hmm...a good working title for an unofficial Jade biography that, but I digress. After work, seeing as it was a nice sunny day coming to an end, I strolled through the park to 'pay my respects' & silently laugh at the crowds gathering & laying flowers. Imagine to my surprise that there were no queues, nor huge lawns of floral tributes. Yes, there were some, but hardly Diana-esque for such a real peoples' Peoples' Princess:
The next morning I was in Bermondsey for work. The funeral cortege was due to stop at the blue at a quarter to nine, & I started work at nine. I'd read that 'her own people' from Bermondsey were going to turn out in their thousands upon thousands. Yeah right! Certainly there were crowds, but only to be nosey. Hundreds there were, but mostly grannies, & their daughters, and their daughters...simply to say they were there, and to show off their snaps on their mobiles. A bit like me actually. Except I just happened to be on my way to work as the hearse had left the Blue & was turning down Southwark Park Road. Abd strangely enough, traffic was still flowing, buses going past, and the pavements weren't ten deep with rivers of tears flowing along the gutters, except when the paparazzi were snapping away as people desperately tried to get their muge etched with mock-grief in the papers.
I thought it rather apt that for a pseudo-celebrity she had a mock copper on a bike to control the traffic. Funny how a dozen protesters in copycat uniforms can be nicked on the anti G20 demo for impersonating the old bill while in an armoured car, but this bloke can do what he likes on his motorbike!
And I hope they never dropped any of those flowers. That'll be an £80 on the spot fine for littering! ;-)
But whom am I to 'mock' ordinary people for paying their respects? When they do a good job of that themselves?
'I came here today because Jade was a great mum.That she was a star is irrelevant, it doesn't come into it. She was a great mother to her kids who she adored.'
Pardon? you mean she was like the vast majority of mothers in Bermondsey, & other inner city areas? In which case how come you don't have a season ticket for every mother who has the same qualities but dies, up at the crematorium at Brenchley Gardens? Nothing to do with her being a star? Bollocks!
To sum up exactly how stupid people are who never met her in their life, how about this?
"I have followed her since she was on Big Brother and she became part of my life. She was a very special human being'. Said the crazy stalker who subscribed to all the obscure cable channels which Jade starred in/padded out.
Now that she's dead a buried, in the ground under the roots of a private wooded burial ground in Essex, far away from her roots in Bermondsey, the talk will be how she might be remembered locally. Already there's suggestions of the council estate where she grew up on, the Dickens Estate, named after some old fshioned writer chap, to be re-named after her! And even a statue erected in her memory! By all means I'd love to see a statue. Paid for by public subscription..then we'd see how much 'her people' loved her, if they had to dip into their own pockets! And where to put it up? The Blue Market Place maybe? Outside her old block of flats? Maybe not. Though i'd be more than happy to have a plaque put on her old block. Maybe have a part of it named after her. How does the 'Jade Goody Rubbish Chute' sound?
I can't believe a permanent memorial hasn't been suggested for her, on the vacant fourth plinth at Trafalgar Square? But why so far. Why not here?
The empty 'first plinth' outside Rotherhithe Library, where it couldn't be safer, as Bermonsey people always look after their own. Just like the previous 'Bermondsey Boy' Tommy Steele statue, which someone 'arf inched & melted down for scrap many years ago! Perfect!
Friday, 3 April 2009
I'm in bits...
I got home from work tonight, a little tired. Got a bite to eat, and slumped down in the armchair to complete the report & photos from last weeks Supporters' Team game against the Frenchies from Le Bromlei for the team blogsite I do.
After that I planned to do a post on here about Madonna & her failed attempt to buy a sister for her bought for son.
And then I got a text from a mate of mine...
Our good friend Belgian Anorak had contacted him.
B.A. had been trying with his partner, at great expense for them to try to conceive a child through IVF treatment. Many attempts & no success. Then only last Friday I got a wonderful text that they had ben successful & Rocky was pregnant! It put a smile on my face & had a wonderous 'inner warmth' for the rest of the day! They are wonderful people & I was so pleased for them...
But today something has gone wrong, & she is in hospital, their dream is gone, as the pregnancy is over.
I texted my mate back in shock.
Then sent a feeble attempt at a supportive one over the Channel to my friend. What words can you say?
How can I express, or try to comprehend, such sadness? I was in tears as I sent them, real big fuck sobs, more emotional than I thought I could be, & I'm welling up again now as I type this.
Really decent people who would love to be able to have a child.
A gift that Madonna has.
But she is too rich & lazy, to go through the natural cycle of childbirth, instead choosing to buy herself a family, ready made, to hang on her arm like trophies.
She truly makes me sick!
I want to post more & rationally explain with what I think about Madonna.
But right now I can't.
I am sick with sorrow for my Belgian friends.
It's just as well I have no money, or i would be on my way over there now to offer them support. Which is stupid, if you think about it. They have teir families & lots of close friends to support them & certainly don't need me. But that shows how much I care about them . I'm hurting inside at the moment, but not half as much as them, multiply how upset I am by a million & you might get a little bit closer.
Somehow I don't think I'll be sleeping peacefully tonight.
My thoughts are with them.
After that I planned to do a post on here about Madonna & her failed attempt to buy a sister for her bought for son.
And then I got a text from a mate of mine...
Our good friend Belgian Anorak had contacted him.
B.A. had been trying with his partner, at great expense for them to try to conceive a child through IVF treatment. Many attempts & no success. Then only last Friday I got a wonderful text that they had ben successful & Rocky was pregnant! It put a smile on my face & had a wonderous 'inner warmth' for the rest of the day! They are wonderful people & I was so pleased for them...
But today something has gone wrong, & she is in hospital, their dream is gone, as the pregnancy is over.
I texted my mate back in shock.
Then sent a feeble attempt at a supportive one over the Channel to my friend. What words can you say?
How can I express, or try to comprehend, such sadness? I was in tears as I sent them, real big fuck sobs, more emotional than I thought I could be, & I'm welling up again now as I type this.
Really decent people who would love to be able to have a child.
A gift that Madonna has.
But she is too rich & lazy, to go through the natural cycle of childbirth, instead choosing to buy herself a family, ready made, to hang on her arm like trophies.
She truly makes me sick!
I want to post more & rationally explain with what I think about Madonna.
But right now I can't.
I am sick with sorrow for my Belgian friends.
It's just as well I have no money, or i would be on my way over there now to offer them support. Which is stupid, if you think about it. They have teir families & lots of close friends to support them & certainly don't need me. But that shows how much I care about them . I'm hurting inside at the moment, but not half as much as them, multiply how upset I am by a million & you might get a little bit closer.
Somehow I don't think I'll be sleeping peacefully tonight.
My thoughts are with them.
Thursday, 2 April 2009
How times change....
Yesterday the Square Mile that is the City of London was in practical lockdown thanks to the various demos protesting around the G20 Summit.
Now I'm getting on a bit, but I still like a good demonstration, though I don't go on too many nowadays. At the very least, even if they're crap, it's a good photo opportunity, & I do like to take snaps of 'real' people. That is pictures with people in it, not just buildings or scenes, but humans to 'humanise' them.
So a stroll around the City yesterday would have been right down my street. Except I wasn't going to waste a whole day penned in like sheep, with no toilets or water in a small area surrounded by riot police, intent on riding roughshod over any rights people have to hold law-abiding demonstrations in this still supposedly democratic police state. And get away with it.
And that's exactly what happened around the Bank of England. I don't know what time people were 'released' from their demo, I didn't really pay much attention to the news, but it must have been at least six hours, probably a lot more. Of course 'the end justifies the means'. With the actual rampaging being minimal, & certainly nothing like the scale seen against other G20 type junkets in other countries, when they've been held there. Ignore the fact that we are in the grip of a total police state, where they can control everything we do.
Sounds a bit dramatic? Maybe? But look around you. Cameras everywhere. Plastic coppers with no power...except to stop & fine you for minor offences like smoking in the wrong place, drinking alcohol in the street, dropping a sweet wrapper, going one mile an hour over the speed limit, or half an inch onto a yellow line. Don't get me wrong, I don't drive and don't give a fuck about hte 'poor motorists', I'm merely trying to highlight how much of a police state we're in, without even thinking about it.
Another reason not to go to the demo yesterday was the amount of tossers who were on it. The middle class guilt tripping day trippers out on a protest before they cosy down to their exams & start wearing their suits & business skirts to take their rightful place as part of the establishment that their public school education has groomed them to join. Lemmings the lot of them. Let's all march on the Bank of England. Yeah! Ignoring the fact it's surrounded by narrow streets that are easy peasy for the old bill to blockade & contain. Sure you can smash few windows, daub some graffiti...but those cameras are watching. you won't get nicked today, or maybe even tomorrow, but in a couple of weeks time you're gonna get your door kicked in at dawn by two dozen of Scotland Yards finest in quasi-jackboots & you're nicked & going to jail.
Sorry, but that's not for me!
But it wasn't always like that. I've just googled it and am shocked to realise how long ago it was! a quarter of a century ago I was in my prime! I shouldn't be that surprised if I think it through logically. I was in that small adult window of my life when I liked a drink, but wasn't fully dependent on alcohol yet. I was still able to go places & demonstrate, fit & fast enough to stand & fight...or run if need be! I was checking the date of the old 'Stop The City' demonstrations, & they were in 1983 & '84, anarchist led, before they petered out, as the police got on top of them, & the courts handed down enough heavy prison sentences to deter people.
I can't remember much about those 'Stop The City' days, I think I went on two or three of the early ones, when the numbers were higher. Although not an anarchist, or any sort of 'ist', I tended to side with the hard core anarchists. For two reasons. Firstly they tended to be up for it, & but their boot or fist where their mouth was. And that's why I was there. To join in a bit of mayhem & have a laugh! But secondly, and far more importantly the anarchist types stuck out like a sore thumb! They didn't give a shit in their own individual style, so if the old bill came wading in, or had snatch squads, I was wearing ordinary jeans and a t shirt, so could briskly walk away and sort of blend in with ordinary people.
I'm remembering a really funny incident where I was wearing a white t shirt with a large black CND symbol on it, under a sports jacket. I was on my own, but there were plenty of people milling about, & just like 'greedy capitalist' supermarkets nowadays I got 'two for the price of one!' There was a couple of suits taking the piss, and as I walked past I heard one of them mutter: 'That one almost looks normal" after he clocked my t shirt. I stopped and said: "What was that?" & before he could splutter a 'shitting his pants' explanation I clumped him & went for his pal, as he backed off! But even funnier was the attempted intervention of a 'peace maaaaan!' pacifist beardy tried to stop me with a 'no violence!' wail. I'm actually making that up...I'm not sure if he had a beard! But I told him to "fuck off you mug!" & smacked him too! That's what I call 'fghting for peace!'
In another incident there were some pissed off demonstrators just standing around doing nothing, moaning about the 'lack of action'. Don't forget this was a -whisper it!-quarter of a century ago. And the old bill were still naive about crowd containment, meaning they were still pretty much clueless. So if you had half an onze of common sense you could lead them a merry dance. There whingers were some punky types, & as I was clearly in earshot next to them one tried to wind me up by exclaiming that there were 'too many CND wankers for anything to happen'. Well fuck that! I said 'come on mate, there's some shops round the corner!'. And there was. I can't remember where it was now, but there was a parade of shops. And as a result of my 'offer' seven or eight of us went for a stroll. I can't remember what shops we smashed, but we did one or two. I know one was a newsagents, and they wrecked the shop by throwing thigns around, and we put the window through. 'Demonstrating' about the exploitation of women, with them not noticing that I was actually pocketing a few of the top shelf mags to have a wank over when I got home! Yes they were straight porn, not many shops sold gay porn back then, but they still had cocks in them. Just 'ruined' by those disgusting female flappy bits! ;-)
I also remember attacking a family butchers! Why? I still remember their chant: "Human freedom, animal rights! One struggle, one fight!" as the old boy who seemed to be running the shop on his own cowered in the corner. Too frightened to use any of the big fuck cleavers he had on his side of the counter! Chickens & chops were flying all over the place as his stock was wrecked! Which I joined in with, even though I can't stand vegetables & am a proud carnivore. Always have been, always will be. As one of my favourte sayings goes: 'vegetable are what my dinner eats!' I can still see the look on his face as, during all this sixty seconds or so of total mayhem, I took a sheet of some sort of greaseproof paper, & grabed some chops, which I wrapped up in it. simply grinning at him & saying 'cheers mate!'
I'm sure I could remember a lot more if I put my mind to it. This was a period of my life when I was at my most politically active. The miners strike. Anti nazi demonstrations, when we had some real battles with the National Front. Coming off worse on more than one occasion, but usualyy being well on top. Printworkers strikes, shipyard strikes. Have a picket line & I would travel. It really was a mental period of my life.
If I sat down & put my thinking cap on I really coud come up with some tales, & don't even get me started on the football! Although a through & through Hamlet fan I wasn't adverse to going to the odd Millwall or even Chelsea game 'for a bit of a laugh'! But that's all for another posting. I'm not sure where this one is going. I started off moaning about the old bill yesterday, but the liberties we took in yesteryear, maybe it's people like me that are the cause of the modern day police state! ;-)
Now I'm getting on a bit, but I still like a good demonstration, though I don't go on too many nowadays. At the very least, even if they're crap, it's a good photo opportunity, & I do like to take snaps of 'real' people. That is pictures with people in it, not just buildings or scenes, but humans to 'humanise' them.
So a stroll around the City yesterday would have been right down my street. Except I wasn't going to waste a whole day penned in like sheep, with no toilets or water in a small area surrounded by riot police, intent on riding roughshod over any rights people have to hold law-abiding demonstrations in this still supposedly democratic police state. And get away with it.
And that's exactly what happened around the Bank of England. I don't know what time people were 'released' from their demo, I didn't really pay much attention to the news, but it must have been at least six hours, probably a lot more. Of course 'the end justifies the means'. With the actual rampaging being minimal, & certainly nothing like the scale seen against other G20 type junkets in other countries, when they've been held there. Ignore the fact that we are in the grip of a total police state, where they can control everything we do.
Sounds a bit dramatic? Maybe? But look around you. Cameras everywhere. Plastic coppers with no power...except to stop & fine you for minor offences like smoking in the wrong place, drinking alcohol in the street, dropping a sweet wrapper, going one mile an hour over the speed limit, or half an inch onto a yellow line. Don't get me wrong, I don't drive and don't give a fuck about hte 'poor motorists', I'm merely trying to highlight how much of a police state we're in, without even thinking about it.
Another reason not to go to the demo yesterday was the amount of tossers who were on it. The middle class guilt tripping day trippers out on a protest before they cosy down to their exams & start wearing their suits & business skirts to take their rightful place as part of the establishment that their public school education has groomed them to join. Lemmings the lot of them. Let's all march on the Bank of England. Yeah! Ignoring the fact it's surrounded by narrow streets that are easy peasy for the old bill to blockade & contain. Sure you can smash few windows, daub some graffiti...but those cameras are watching. you won't get nicked today, or maybe even tomorrow, but in a couple of weeks time you're gonna get your door kicked in at dawn by two dozen of Scotland Yards finest in quasi-jackboots & you're nicked & going to jail.
Sorry, but that's not for me!
But it wasn't always like that. I've just googled it and am shocked to realise how long ago it was! a quarter of a century ago I was in my prime! I shouldn't be that surprised if I think it through logically. I was in that small adult window of my life when I liked a drink, but wasn't fully dependent on alcohol yet. I was still able to go places & demonstrate, fit & fast enough to stand & fight...or run if need be! I was checking the date of the old 'Stop The City' demonstrations, & they were in 1983 & '84, anarchist led, before they petered out, as the police got on top of them, & the courts handed down enough heavy prison sentences to deter people.
I can't remember much about those 'Stop The City' days, I think I went on two or three of the early ones, when the numbers were higher. Although not an anarchist, or any sort of 'ist', I tended to side with the hard core anarchists. For two reasons. Firstly they tended to be up for it, & but their boot or fist where their mouth was. And that's why I was there. To join in a bit of mayhem & have a laugh! But secondly, and far more importantly the anarchist types stuck out like a sore thumb! They didn't give a shit in their own individual style, so if the old bill came wading in, or had snatch squads, I was wearing ordinary jeans and a t shirt, so could briskly walk away and sort of blend in with ordinary people.
I'm remembering a really funny incident where I was wearing a white t shirt with a large black CND symbol on it, under a sports jacket. I was on my own, but there were plenty of people milling about, & just like 'greedy capitalist' supermarkets nowadays I got 'two for the price of one!' There was a couple of suits taking the piss, and as I walked past I heard one of them mutter: 'That one almost looks normal" after he clocked my t shirt. I stopped and said: "What was that?" & before he could splutter a 'shitting his pants' explanation I clumped him & went for his pal, as he backed off! But even funnier was the attempted intervention of a 'peace maaaaan!' pacifist beardy tried to stop me with a 'no violence!' wail. I'm actually making that up...I'm not sure if he had a beard! But I told him to "fuck off you mug!" & smacked him too! That's what I call 'fghting for peace!'
In another incident there were some pissed off demonstrators just standing around doing nothing, moaning about the 'lack of action'. Don't forget this was a -whisper it!-quarter of a century ago. And the old bill were still naive about crowd containment, meaning they were still pretty much clueless. So if you had half an onze of common sense you could lead them a merry dance. There whingers were some punky types, & as I was clearly in earshot next to them one tried to wind me up by exclaiming that there were 'too many CND wankers for anything to happen'. Well fuck that! I said 'come on mate, there's some shops round the corner!'. And there was. I can't remember where it was now, but there was a parade of shops. And as a result of my 'offer' seven or eight of us went for a stroll. I can't remember what shops we smashed, but we did one or two. I know one was a newsagents, and they wrecked the shop by throwing thigns around, and we put the window through. 'Demonstrating' about the exploitation of women, with them not noticing that I was actually pocketing a few of the top shelf mags to have a wank over when I got home! Yes they were straight porn, not many shops sold gay porn back then, but they still had cocks in them. Just 'ruined' by those disgusting female flappy bits! ;-)
I also remember attacking a family butchers! Why? I still remember their chant: "Human freedom, animal rights! One struggle, one fight!" as the old boy who seemed to be running the shop on his own cowered in the corner. Too frightened to use any of the big fuck cleavers he had on his side of the counter! Chickens & chops were flying all over the place as his stock was wrecked! Which I joined in with, even though I can't stand vegetables & am a proud carnivore. Always have been, always will be. As one of my favourte sayings goes: 'vegetable are what my dinner eats!' I can still see the look on his face as, during all this sixty seconds or so of total mayhem, I took a sheet of some sort of greaseproof paper, & grabed some chops, which I wrapped up in it. simply grinning at him & saying 'cheers mate!'
I'm sure I could remember a lot more if I put my mind to it. This was a period of my life when I was at my most politically active. The miners strike. Anti nazi demonstrations, when we had some real battles with the National Front. Coming off worse on more than one occasion, but usualyy being well on top. Printworkers strikes, shipyard strikes. Have a picket line & I would travel. It really was a mental period of my life.
If I sat down & put my thinking cap on I really coud come up with some tales, & don't even get me started on the football! Although a through & through Hamlet fan I wasn't adverse to going to the odd Millwall or even Chelsea game 'for a bit of a laugh'! But that's all for another posting. I'm not sure where this one is going. I started off moaning about the old bill yesterday, but the liberties we took in yesteryear, maybe it's people like me that are the cause of the modern day police state! ;-)
Wednesday, 1 April 2009
A fiver well spent
What can you get for a five quid nowadays? Not a lot you'd think. But if you go trawling the 'charidee' shops as I do you can get some veritable bargains. Or junk, which you wouldn't othewise buy if it wasn't for the cheap price tag on it!
One thing I've noticed in this 'credit crunch' (such a polite way of saying we're all fucked!) is that the second hand shops are marking down their old videos. Which suits me fine. Unless it's something exceptional that I want, like when I was searching for & eventually got the second series of 'Queer As Folk', I won't pay more than a pound, two quid being a rip off, no matter what the cause, if you're permanently poor like my good self. Now & again you see a bargain bucket where they're 'buy one, get one free', or even some at ten bob each. (That's 50p, if you don't know 'old money' lingo)
But more & more these shops are knocking them down to fifty pence each all over the place. Well I say 'all over' I mainly frequent the ones in Sydenham where I live, Bermondsey where I work, & Eltham every few weeks. Eltham? Don't ask! Well ok then...there's one of the public toilets in thst area which is quite busy for some cock fun, & as a bonus there's a number of charity shops along Eltham High Street!
I was over that way last week, and as well as enjoying a blow job & a wank I picked up some second hand videos. And got some more today at home-videos!- while waiting for my washing to finish its cycle at the local laundrette. That's two lots of washing this week! I've had a bit of a bakclog, & it's sunny & dry out, so no need to 'waste' money in a drier.
It's not stuff I'll watch straight away. Maybe not even this month or even year! It's stacked up in a huge pile for a 'rainy day' when I'm bored. I know I'll enjoy most of them, or even if I don't I've took a 'gamble' to see what they're like. Well at fifty pence each you can afford to splash the cash! So what sort of crap have I picked up exactly?
Here goes, in no particular order:
1) 'The Crying Game'. From 1992, set in both the 'killing fields of Northern Ireland' & 'the seedy yet vibrant underworld of contemporary London'. It's a film I've know of, but not seen before. I think I will enjoy this one.
2) 'Deathwatch'. Made in 2002, never heard of it before! A horror film, set behind the German lines, about the few English survivors from their regiment. I'm quite interested in the First World War, so this could be worth watching. Well what do you expect at that price! ;-) It's worth it because the sexy young scamp Jamie Bell is in it!
3) 'And Now For Something Completely Different'. From the 'Monty Python's Flying Circus' team, in 1971. The Flying Circus was before my time really, & I've never really watched their stuff, so it will be interesting to see if I like this or not.
4) 'The Deerhunter'. Film classic, made in 1978, which lasts for a lengthy three hours, or five minutes shy to be precise. It stars Robert De Niro, & the film won a total of five Oscars.
5) 'Red Scorpion'. 1988 complete action junk from the look of the blurb on the cover. A Soviet agent, last seen fighting in 'Rocky IV', goes undercover fighting a rebel African guerilla uprising. Presumably a spin off from the Rocky film, and made not long after. I dread to think how rubbish this one will be!
6) 'The Missionary', a British comedy from 1983. Set in Edwardian England a missionary man of the cloth returns to London to set up a mision for fallen women. Written by, & starring, the brilliant Michael Palin, of Monty Python fame, but I am a big fan of his travels too.
7) 'Glory', released in 1989. I don't know this one, despite it winning three Academy Awards. It's an American film about the 54th Regiment of Massachusetts, which was the first black regiment to fight for the North in the American Civil War. I've no idea if it's any good, but it sounded interesting enough for me to pick up.
8) 'D3 The Mighty Ducks'. The box doesn't say what year this kids Disney film was released, it's the third in the Mighty Ducks series. To be honest the only reason I've grabbed this is because it's about ice hockey, & I like that sport! I know I've got another video in this series, but not D3. I'll have to dig it out, so I can hunt around for the missing one. Preferably before I watch either of the pair I've got, & realise how crap they are! The unbelievable thing-only in America!-was that this series spawned a genuine team in the NHL!
9) 'Dave Spikey overnight success tour Live'. Not a film, but a stand up comedian. I do like comedy. There's nothing better than escaping into to laughter. Problem is I have no idea who this chap is! This was recorded at the Leeds City Varieties Theatre, which somehow suggests I won't be chuckling that much...
10) A BBC video. Of the 1966 World Cup final. Enough said! (The final was actually just under three months before I was born, though I did see a repeat of it in Battersea in 2005!
They think this post is all over...it is now!
One thing I've noticed in this 'credit crunch' (such a polite way of saying we're all fucked!) is that the second hand shops are marking down their old videos. Which suits me fine. Unless it's something exceptional that I want, like when I was searching for & eventually got the second series of 'Queer As Folk', I won't pay more than a pound, two quid being a rip off, no matter what the cause, if you're permanently poor like my good self. Now & again you see a bargain bucket where they're 'buy one, get one free', or even some at ten bob each. (That's 50p, if you don't know 'old money' lingo)
But more & more these shops are knocking them down to fifty pence each all over the place. Well I say 'all over' I mainly frequent the ones in Sydenham where I live, Bermondsey where I work, & Eltham every few weeks. Eltham? Don't ask! Well ok then...there's one of the public toilets in thst area which is quite busy for some cock fun, & as a bonus there's a number of charity shops along Eltham High Street!
I was over that way last week, and as well as enjoying a blow job & a wank I picked up some second hand videos. And got some more today at home-videos!- while waiting for my washing to finish its cycle at the local laundrette. That's two lots of washing this week! I've had a bit of a bakclog, & it's sunny & dry out, so no need to 'waste' money in a drier.
It's not stuff I'll watch straight away. Maybe not even this month or even year! It's stacked up in a huge pile for a 'rainy day' when I'm bored. I know I'll enjoy most of them, or even if I don't I've took a 'gamble' to see what they're like. Well at fifty pence each you can afford to splash the cash! So what sort of crap have I picked up exactly?
Here goes, in no particular order:
1) 'The Crying Game'. From 1992, set in both the 'killing fields of Northern Ireland' & 'the seedy yet vibrant underworld of contemporary London'. It's a film I've know of, but not seen before. I think I will enjoy this one.
2) 'Deathwatch'. Made in 2002, never heard of it before! A horror film, set behind the German lines, about the few English survivors from their regiment. I'm quite interested in the First World War, so this could be worth watching. Well what do you expect at that price! ;-) It's worth it because the sexy young scamp Jamie Bell is in it!
3) 'And Now For Something Completely Different'. From the 'Monty Python's Flying Circus' team, in 1971. The Flying Circus was before my time really, & I've never really watched their stuff, so it will be interesting to see if I like this or not.
4) 'The Deerhunter'. Film classic, made in 1978, which lasts for a lengthy three hours, or five minutes shy to be precise. It stars Robert De Niro, & the film won a total of five Oscars.
5) 'Red Scorpion'. 1988 complete action junk from the look of the blurb on the cover. A Soviet agent, last seen fighting in 'Rocky IV', goes undercover fighting a rebel African guerilla uprising. Presumably a spin off from the Rocky film, and made not long after. I dread to think how rubbish this one will be!
6) 'The Missionary', a British comedy from 1983. Set in Edwardian England a missionary man of the cloth returns to London to set up a mision for fallen women. Written by, & starring, the brilliant Michael Palin, of Monty Python fame, but I am a big fan of his travels too.
7) 'Glory', released in 1989. I don't know this one, despite it winning three Academy Awards. It's an American film about the 54th Regiment of Massachusetts, which was the first black regiment to fight for the North in the American Civil War. I've no idea if it's any good, but it sounded interesting enough for me to pick up.
8) 'D3 The Mighty Ducks'. The box doesn't say what year this kids Disney film was released, it's the third in the Mighty Ducks series. To be honest the only reason I've grabbed this is because it's about ice hockey, & I like that sport! I know I've got another video in this series, but not D3. I'll have to dig it out, so I can hunt around for the missing one. Preferably before I watch either of the pair I've got, & realise how crap they are! The unbelievable thing-only in America!-was that this series spawned a genuine team in the NHL!
9) 'Dave Spikey overnight success tour Live'. Not a film, but a stand up comedian. I do like comedy. There's nothing better than escaping into to laughter. Problem is I have no idea who this chap is! This was recorded at the Leeds City Varieties Theatre, which somehow suggests I won't be chuckling that much...
10) A BBC video. Of the 1966 World Cup final. Enough said! (The final was actually just under three months before I was born, though I did see a repeat of it in Battersea in 2005!
They think this post is all over...it is now!
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