Wednesday 6th October 2010
IMPORTANT NOTICE: I doubt anyone reads this bit anyway.
WEDNESDAY 6th OCTOBER
Having an opinion and not being afraid to share it does have some downsides. People on occasions get offended. Sometimes I go a bit far and end up editing chunks from the blog for an easy life.
There are times when I genuinely have misread a situation. Usually, though, the person complaining doesn’t have a thick skin and lacks a real sense of perspective.
At the end of the day, there’s a bit of ranting but it’s fairly harmless stuff. The blog is largely for entertainment purposes and it allows me to blow off a bit of steam.
Every week I get a stack of very positive messages which gives me the strength to go on and keep blogging. I’m choosing not to post them here this week because it was suggested to me that it sounds a bit big-headed sharing the praise from others. Perhaps they have a point and, fortunately, I’m blessed to have people around me who give it to me straight.
[OH THE IRONY — THIS SECTION HAS BEEN EDITED BY ME AS SOME PEOPLE CLEARLY HAVE NO SENSE OF HUMOUR OR PERSPECTIVE.)
So you put photos on the internet (harmless photos, really harmless to be honest) and then complain when someone uses them as part of some light hearted banter in a blog ??? Get a grip. It’s like people who write utter crap on their Facebook walls and statuses. They’re in black and white for everyone to see.
I laugh at those who take photos in the mirror because I think they look a bit daft. But it’s completely harmless. I’ve even mocked up pictures of myself doing it and shared them here to show how I don’t mind looking daft.
A bit of perspective please, people.
In The News This Week (1).
West Midlands Ambulance Service have revealed some of the non-emergency calls they’ve received from people dialling 999.
A 32-year-old man from Shropshire called 999 for an ambulance because he “couldn’t walk after dancing too much.”
Well it clearly wasn’t someone listening to the rubbish I play at Pussycats.
Other calls from brain-dead stupid dumb-fucks included…
* A lady who wanted a crew to get her washing in because her footpath was covered in snow and ice.
* A man who said he needed an ambulance because his eyes were hurting, before revealing that he had been playing on his games console for six hours.
* A man requesting an ambulance because he could not find his trousers.
* A man ringing to apologise for being a pest caller the day before, when he called the same number numerous times.
* Staff at a care home requesting an ambulance to take them to a job interview at a hospital.
A spokesman said: “Such ‘reasons’ have included requests to make toast or heat up a Pot Noodle, requests to plump up my pillows or pick up a bar of chocolate and even change the channel on the TV because the home owner can’t be bothered to get up from the chair.”
Stupid, lazy, thick wankers.
Congratulations to the Flintstones – the “modern stone age family from Bedrock” has just celebrated 50 years on the telly.
Flintstones facts (courtesy of the Daily Telegraph):
* Fred and Wilma were the first couple to be shown in bed together on prime-time television when the show first aired in the USA between 1960 and 1966.
* Fred and Barney fronted a TV advertising campaign for Winston cigarettes – a move that would be unthinkable for children’s television characters today.
Now I think this is genuine – Wilma says “bollocks” about 20 seconds into this clip.
Genuine or not – what do you think?
When I was 15, my dad said he wanted to give me The Talk. He pulled me to one side and said:
“Son, there comes a special time in every man’s life – you may have already started doing it. The first time it will hurt. You will be clumsy, you will do things wrong.”
I started blushing.
“Don’t worry, there will be a bit of blood – that’s fine, that’s normal. Your mum can show you a neat trick with rolled up toilet paper.”
I hoped this would be over soon.
“Maybe first time do it in the shower. Once you get the hang of it you’ll be fine. It might even be worth getting me or your mum to watch you doing it just in case things go wrong and we can point you in the right direction.”
I nearly collapsed in shock.
Turned out though he was talking about SHAVING.
(With my dearest apologies to Daniel Sloss, you will be a star my friend. I apologise for stealing part of your routine. Just think of me as the Keith Chegwin of the blogging world. That has hopefully saved me a lawsuit. Or maybe he’ll call the cops and say it’s FRAUD. Nope – don’t think so. Probably because IT’S NOT FRAUD! Theft, maybe…)
In The News This Week (2).
David Milliband announced he wouldn’t be standing for a place in the Labour shadow cabinet after his brother Ed beat him to be leader of the party.
Bitter? You bet he is! Christmas at the Milliband’s parents’ house is going to be fun.
I wonder if the other brother – Glenn – will turn up and get everyone In The Mood?
(I hate having to explain jokes but I suspect the younger readers won’t understand = http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/In_the_Mood )
There’s a programme called My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding on Channel 4.
Can’t wait for the follow up: My Big Fat Inbred Children.
Football news (1)
Former England manager Sven Goran Eriksson has become the new boss of Leicester City.
No, really he has. I’m still coming to terms with it.
A mate texted me: “When I heard an ageing, balding lothario was going to manage the Foxes I thought you’d got the job you always wanted.”
Yeah, right, thanks.
I was there amongst the press pack when he turned up for our game against Scunthorpe. (No sign of Tinie Tempah though. He’s never been to Scunthorpe. Even though the game wasn’t actually IN Scunthorpe, it was at Leicester. Stop being pedantic.)
Separated at birth (1) = Sven and Mr Burns.
Random fact: I have never watched a whole episode of The Simpsons.
In fact I’ve never watched more than a couple of minutes of it.
My dad has mixed feelings about Sven arriving. I think he’s worried that the cool Casanova might try it on with mum.
It’s not just people in Telford who have trouble with spelling – whoever designed this page in the Leicester City match programme didn’t proof read closely enough. We were playing SCUNTHORPE rather than SCUNTHOPRE.
It’s not as if the size of the text wasn’ t big enough to spot.
PS. We won the game 3-1 and are no longer bottom of the table.
I was in the match programme for the previous game with QPR. They ask various journalists for their thoughts on topics relating to the club and who we’re playing. Here’s how my little biog appeared. (Sorry for the poor camera quality.)
Fair play to Tom Meighan, the lead singer from Kasabian. He might be a rock’n’roll God but he’s there pretty much every single home game and sits just in front of the press box. He knows me enough for a nod, a handshake and a brief hello. We have even been known to get slightly animated together when a Leicester goal goes in although, as a working journalist, I am strictly neutral. Well, just about.
I am actually pretty neutral on air and tend to over-criticise Leicester just so no bias comes through in my reports. And trust me, there’s been plenty to criticise this season.
Football news (2)
I don’t wish to make fun of Liverpool’s predicament of being in the bottom three of the Premier League (especially as Ian Rush was a boyhood hero of mine) but they really are a bit rubbish at the moment.
Don’t worry – at least Scousers know how to…
CALM DOWN, CALM DOWN, EH EH EH EH, CALM DOWN.
From left to right: Our Barry, Our Terry, Our Gary, Barry, Terry, Gary, Ba’, Te’, Ga’, Barry, Terry, Gary…..if that means nothing to you, watch this classic moment from Harry Enfield’s Television Programme where the Scousers fall out. (Sadly the clip cuts off just before the end of the sketch but you get the idea.)
And here are the Scousers on Blind Date.
The show was at its peak in the early-mid 1990s. Me and the lads went to Butlins at Minehead (I loved Butlins as a kid, some truly happy memories) for a week of alcohol-fuelled partying.
We all went out in the ‘Scouser’ gear and got the most amazing reaction. It remains one of the funniest nights out boozing in my entire life.
We’d been dicking about for half an hour – doing the calm down, calm down nonsense – when a bloke came up, wearing a tracksuit, draped in too much crap jewellery and with tattoos (probably with incorrect spellings) covering most of his skin.
In a deep Liverpudlian accent (and I remember this word-for-word as clear as day) he said: “Are you lads taking the piss out of Scousers?”
I’ll be honest, we were shitting it, especially as the people on the table where he’d come from looked like the kind who were too rough to be gypsies.
I mumbled nervously: “Erm no well yes – we’re not laughing erm at Scousers, it’s erm the Harry Enfield programme…” My voice sounded like a high-pitched apology as I attempted a reverse ferret and got ready to run for my life.
“Well me and the guys, ” he said, “think you lads are fookin’ brilliant. We want a photo with you.” The air seeped out of our collective lungs. The biggest sigh of relief ever.
Later that night we all went for a slash together – what a sight that must have been, it’s usually only women who use the loo at the same time – and Woody dropped his moustache in the urinal. Ever so slightly inebriated at this point, he sunk his fingers into the stinking trough of piss, picked up his fake ‘tache, ran it under the tap, squeezed it as dry as he could… and attached it back under his nose.
While digging out the above photos, I stumbled across several more from that holiday in 1993 when I 20. Here is Woody, Glen and I showing our support for the mighty Foxes. Woody appears to be wearing hotpants – I don’t think that was the fashion for men back then, or even now come to think of it – while I am wearing shorts a couple of sizes too small and spreading my legs like a slapper from Woodside.
There is also this shameful photo of me playing tonsil hockey with a fellow holiday maker.
She seems a bit on the rough side so I’ll blame the alcohol. Apologies for my horrendous waistcoat. I can’t even use the excuse that I was on the way to the Bad Fashion Snooker Championships.
You can tell how classy this woman is – not only drinking a can of McEwans lager but not letting it out of her grasp while we swapped a bit of romantic phlegm.
Yes, I feel like throwing up too.
(Note for the moaners: See I can take the piss out of myself good and proper.)
In The News This Week (3).
(I would like to thank Chris Lepkowski for alerting me to this story via Twitter.)
“A 35-year-old West Bromwich man was airlifted into the new Queen Elizabeth Hospital Birmingham after suffering a serious penetrating wound. He fell off a platform and landed on a broom handle last Wednesday.”
Please stop laughing. I can see you.
A West Midlands Ambulance Service spokesman said: “Our crews were told that the man had fallen approximately four feet onto what looked like a broom handle.”
“The handle penetrated the man’s groin and went up into his abdomen. Fire crews were called to remove the bottom half of the handle so that the man could be airlifted to the Regional Trauma Centre.”
Trauma? You bet it was!
The spokesman added: “It was important to leave the handle in place until the man was seen by surgeons.”
Not funny for him – but bloody hilarious for everyone else.
The last blog picked up another record breaking set of views – a third week running in excess of 650. It won’t stay that high. (To give you an example of the recent increases, a blog in early June got less than 250 views in a week.) Conventional wisdom suggests people will get bored sooner rather than later. Feel free to spread the word though should you think your mates might enjoy it.
You can see my clubbing photos I take while DJ-ing every weekend in the gallery at www.djwanker.com – this kind of stuff…
As mentioned in previous blogs, there has been a relatively recent trend for women to get their arses out and display a sticker. Ridiculous I know – but I’ve always tried to keep the customers happy. Well that’s my excuse…
This chap got to do what many others would like to do.
He said: “I’m going to blow your brains out.”
“That won’t take long,” I replied.
I’m banned from every casino in the UK.
Apparently I completely misunderstood the crap table.
In The News This Week (4).
A road sign in Telford has remained uncorrected for about 20 years. The sign shows drivers the way to Malinslee – but spells it with three Ls, instead of two.
This is not the only road sign mistake in Telford because I drove into Sutton Hill the other day and the sign should have said…
“CHAV SCUM COUNCIL ESTATE HELLHOLE”
(Just to be fair, the same could be said for Saffron Lane, St Matthews and various other parts of inner-city Leicester. I live nowhere near them, by the way.)
How Relationships Work. (Or don’t, as the case may be.)
Alex Reid got badly beaten up in a cage fight and went to hospital. Instead of tending to her hubby and being by his side, Jordan went out on the piss instead.
Katie Price – you disgust me a little bit more every week.
My mate Paul Berry is raising money for Cancer research. Donate if you have a few quid to spare for a worthwhile cause. Thanks.
The Crazy World Of Facebook.
This was posted as a status by Chad: “As Im Scared Ov U Floaty Ya Joka U Flapped It From Me In The Office Thursday Night N Ma Gyal Had To Stop Me From Hittin U! HaHa Ur Lucky Mi Gyal Stopped Me From Hittin U!! Lmao I Fort U We’re A Decent Lad But I Guess Not N Anova Ting U Wanna Stop Stalkin My Blondey Misst :@ Same Goes To Da Rest Ov U Wasteman Stalkers Stop Being So Desperate N Get Ya Own Gyal FFS”
Here’s a selection of the replies which followed…
Coley: “my mum even laughd in his face bowt 2 week ago he stood wiv no top in post ofice n ma mum pisd n said yer pige ur nufin u rat :)”
Nathan: “Haha gwaan chad bro shud ov jst sparkd man the ova nyt.”
Chad: “Lmao coley n I wud ov nath but he flapped it from me twice n I lowed it den my gyal stopped me da third time OMDZ I’ve let off too many lads now not anymore!! n ye but deres too many ov em”
Lisa: “U awryt chad? Tel ya burd proud o ya a cnt stand the litle cunts tht ge sht ova da keyboard lol. Anyway did use av a gd wkend yeh?x”
Chad: “Ok bruv ya get me itz cuz dey carnt get a gf n hav to try n stalk everyone elses da jokas!! dats y lol”
Calvin: “lmfao haha Floaty is a seriouse wasteman, bops throught town with his top off thinkin he got something to show, let me know when you knock is ass out i wanna be there too laugh at him cuz! He a lil bitch man”
Chad: “Ye enit cuz n ye ill show if he ll probly just flap it again he tried stalkin mi gyal up town again earlier n he tinks I’m scared ov him OMDZ am I fk scared ov floatymanz telford lmao n me n him will see each otha up town soon lol”
Stevo: “Yn mate he a joka dawley bank bois fckd him up bro new years hes a pussy bro i live oppisite the office so anx mre trouble frm this jok strap giv me a shout would lv to fck him safe”
I might be wrong but I think some people in Telford have a beef with some other people. That’s pretty much the top and bottom of it.
You wouldn’t believe the aggravation I get from Microsoft Word when I transcribe this stuff. The automatic spelling and grammar facility goes into absolute meltdown.
Hayley has been strangely quiet on Facebook this week but she did reveal this: “just bort me lil man a dog 4 xmas es guna love it”
Well that’s exactly what a child under 12 months would want for Christmas. Then you factor in the related costs of maintaining the pooch. I would’ve thought a single mum (with the greatest respect, of course) might have more important things to spend money on.
Ooh just found out she’s bort bought a seven-week-old Staff. This really isn’t a good idea and to be fair to her friends they have all advised her against it. (Well I think that’s what they were saying – the Telford translation service takes a while. You know where I’m coming from: “wen u not walkin him cuz u cba cuz its cold hel be chewin up ya house im just warnin u as i did before and speekin from expierience”)
According to Wikipedia: “The Staffordshire Bull Terrier (informally: Staffie, Stafford, Staffross, Staffy or Staff) is a medium-sized, short-coated, old-time breed of dog, originally bred for dog fighting after bull baiting became illegal.”
Perfectly safe then to be around a child under a year old…
Just as I wrote that, another one from her appeared: “u no wot im gettin sik ov hearin fings bout g**** fuckin t***** u no wot i dnt care wot es doin n wot e has dun 2 me ye e fucked ov ppl b hind me bk sooo fuckin wot bt e will neva find another gal like me joker”
You could just stop banging on about how crap your ex is… or you could just carry on with the status updates and keep entertaining us.
Hayley’s younger but seemingly brighter sister posted a link to her Facebook wall – a song by Mariah Carey – and described it as a: “tune ent hurd in yonks”
Karnt reali r-gyew wiv dat eye spose…
Photos In The Mirror.
It’s the gift which just keeps on giving…
I found this on the internet and thought I’d give it a go. I knew someone would fall for it.
I wrote on my status:
“….wow….you can type your Facebook password into a comment and it comes up as stars!! *********** haha that’s so cool :)”
Most people played along with the joke and then – oh yes – and then… we hit the money shot.
Marie wrote: “my password is [I’ve removed it] xxx”
And again: “why didnt it work for me or is it a piss take lol? !!! xxx”
It was pointed out that maybe she’d mis-typed her password: “ha ha i think i should change my password then lolok im trying it again with my new password which is [I’ve removed this as well]“
She replied: “double bugger thats it i give up gotta change bloody password again. oh i give up anyway i cant think of anymore passwords always use my childerens names xx”
I was roaring with laughter at this point.
She continued: “i shouldnt have written that last comment !!!! now gotta think of a password without my childerens names in it bugger any suggestions lmao!!!!”
It was suggested she typed in her bank details and PIN number.
“ok yes i am definateley stupid enough to put on my bank details lol!!! mind you an anonomous deposit would be very welcome, otherwise my account would be a complete letdown as it is always overdrawn !!!!”
And then even more: “bloody hell im just too honest loli give up im going to bed like everything else nothing works for me!!!!!”
After I came clean – as if I really had to, oh come on it was obvious – I messaged her to say it was a wind up.
She said: “i am not completeley as stupid as i look my real password is hornyfuckingbitch lmao (that isnt my real password either lol) xxxx”
After the relative success of that, I tried another one on my status.
Geoff really can’t believe they’ve removed the word GULLIBLE from the dictionary. Go and check if you don’t believe me…
I knew this would confuse some people in Telford because I didn’t explain what a dictionary was. Anyway, it wasn’t long until Keri (from Telford believe it or not) replied.
“No they haven’t! I’ve looked, its in there! Yes, its really there! Why? Shouldn’t it be?”
A little while later she returned: “The definition of ‘gullible’ is me, my Dad just explained your joke to me haha. Well after the third time of explaining he was annoyed, but we got there in the end :) Shameful! I’m glad you like my stupidity.”
Darren Evans chipped in: “Shame on Geoff!! I felt sorry for Keri for a minute there. However the fb password status before hand was genius. I like to try and learn something new every day – today I learn some people have no hope ;)”
Keri replied: “I have hope, just lack in general knowledge now and again :)”
Well it entertained me. I got her hook, line and non-thinker.
I know – I should get out more.
Crap Joke Corner.
I found a Land Rover buried in my back garden…it was a nice Discovery.
In The News This Week (5).
Mark Ronson has revealed that he received death threats after releasing his cover of The Smiths’ classic Stop Me If You Think You’ve Heard This One Before.
Honestly…….. some people should really learn a bit of perspective. I’m a massive fan of The Smiths and while Ronson didn’t do the song any decent justice, it actually alerted younger people to the magic of Morrissey and Marr.
Death threats over a song? For fuck sake.
I am a truly awful golfer. I’ve only played once or twice in the last four years and was so bad I gave it up. (Playing golf on Wii Sports Resort is a different matter. I’m quite handy at that.) I was glued to the Ryder Cup over the weekend. It was an absorbing contest – high quality golf, great sportsmanship, bags of drama and, ultimately, the right result with Europe squeezing through to a tense and narrow victory.
Take a bow Poulter, McDowell, Westwood, Donald, McIlroy et al. It was a superb team performance (against a united, strong and determined USA side) led by the cheeky chubster Colin Montgomerie.
I know golf bores a lot of people but the dramatic last couple of hours on Monday had many going through a rollercoaster of emotions. I love sport – especially when it’s as wonderful as that.
Separated at birth (2) = Miguel Angel Jimenez and Worzel Gummidge.
Jimenez is my kind of golfer – not only brilliant but knows how to celebrate, too. Loves his booze and loves his cigars even more!
My view of golf is that it’s the only acceptable time for a man to use an iron.
In The News This Week (6).
Work and relationship pressures make the mid-30s the start of many British people’s unhappiest decade, a survey suggests.
My 30s have been the best time of my life. Another two or three years and then life begins at 40. That’s brilliant – because in my head I’m still 21.
I was in the book shop this week and asked for a book by Shakespeare.
“Which one?” he asked.
“William” I replied.
It’s the first week of October and already there are adverts for Christmas on the radio (and probably TV too although I haven’t seen them yet) and shops are stocking festive items. I saw these in Sainsbury’s in Wigston on Monday.
I didn’t buy any. Maybe I will after Christmas when they’re about 50p. Bah Humbug.
Searching for the perfect T-shirt for your baby? Well look no more.
And finally… I see that the NHS are cutting back on expenditure at the moment. Apparently thieves are operating in the hospital car park…..
Cheers for now,
Geoff / DJ Wanker
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