Sorry for the lack of posts recently, and I’m orf on me hols now, so it’ll be a while before I do any more. Meanwhile, this was sent to me by The Rev. Many thanks to him., it made me titter.
Thrice.
See you after the cricket.
Category Archives: Misc
Green Army!!
Not a single TV company bothered to bid the rights to cover the match, or if they did, they offered a pittance. The papers have dubbed it a national disgrace. It’s a bloody long way to go to a miserable, bleak corner of the world to watch 90 minutes of football, and few will fork out and endure such a long journey. However, I’m gonna go, and I have a plan so we can all watch it:
I’m taking my camera.
It’s got a pretty decent lens and a video mode, and I have 2 batteries which I reckon should last long enough to cover the whole match, barring long injuries. I’ll post it here just as soon as I get back, if you play it smart and avoid news broadcasts you could watch it as live. Get a few tinnies in, arrange the furniture accordingly, invite a few mates round and sit back and watch Gravesend U13 Girls vrs Dartford U13 Girls, live from Dogshit Park, Gravesham. (Kent Girls/Ladies Football League, U13 Div.2)
Why? Which match did you think I was talking about? England ??? Pah!
Apart from the fact that England have already qualified for next year’s World Cup, did anyone really expect the BBC or ITV to show live coverage of their match vrs Ukraine at the time when, traditionally, the nation sits down in front of Strictly Come Dancing or The X Factor?? Do you honestly expect them to replace Calzaghe for Capello, swap the obvious talents of Cheryl Cole for the unobvious ones of her ex Ashley? Have you not worked out that this country has gone to hell in a handcart? that our collective national taste is shot to pieces??? THAT THE WORLD HAS GONE BLEEDIN MAD!!!!???????? I had a dream the other night that I thought I was playing football with Wayne Rooney, but was really on Strictly with one of the male professional dancers. It all went horribly wrong when I shouted “backdoor, backdoor”.)
Last Sunday 3.2 million people (I shall repeat that THREE POINT TWO MILLION PEOPLE) tuned in to watch a show called Hole in the Wall (“Bring on The Wall”). On this 6 celebrities are pushed into a pool of “ice-cold” water if they fail to take the correct shape or a …er…hole in a wall (the rules are too complicated to go into). Now I say celebrities, but you be the judge: Kelly Dalglish, Lil’Chris, Gemma Bissix, Matthew Chambers, Joe Swash and Austin Healey.
3.2 million people watching a wall, a hole, a pool.
So stuff all that, next weekend you’ll have the chance to sit down and watch a real competition, real sport with a real, meaningful outcome. Dartford have had a great start to their season thus far having beaten Woodpeckers twice (once in the league, once in the cup – and on both occcasions Dartford had ten men…er…players) and smashed home 10 goals in the process. Now the team, led by their stunningly beautiful captain, centre back Kate “Katie” Bealing, (great touch for a tall girl) meet top-or-the-table Gravesend in what the Dartford Times isn’t already calling a ‘six-pointer’. And as a loyal reader to this column, you won’t miss any of the action, well not much anyway.
Go “oooh” as the shots rain in from the Dartford attackers peppering the Gravesend goalie. Go “Aaaah” as the game is held up for three minutes for a dad to wipe away the tears of his daughter who copped a ball straight in the face. Go “shuddup you prat” as you hear an aggressive dad on the touchline scream abuse at the girls on the pitch. Go “to the toilet” as my battery runs out and I have to change for a fresh one to carry on recording.
Yes, there will only be one camera, but as I expect none of the 20 outfield players to be any more than ten feet away from the ball at any time, you won’t miss a thing.
And watch it all in glorious, mono lo-res!
All this and much, much less for 3 easy payments of 2.50* (plus p&p). Please send your payments in unmarked, non-consecutive bills (no cheques) to:
The Bald Bloke in the Suit in the Corner
c/o The Manager
O’Neill’s Public House
Tranquil Vale
Blackheath SE3
…and if you’re not watching low quality video of a high quality local girls soccer match very soon, I’d be most surprised.
(*offer subject to conditions, and whether I can be arsed)
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Low Street Ken
As my pal Shaun and I drove around Kentucky and Tennessee last year, we took every opportunity to sample the great American institutions: Diners, gun shops, rib joints and the like. We popped into Walmart once, and what a treat that was. But we were obviously too busy snapping up cheap stuff to take a look around at our fellow shoppers. Thanks to Trev for pointing me in the direction of this site. Put down hot drinks before you go any further.
And if you can stomach any more, go to http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/
Don’t be so Melancholy, Baby
I’m sure I posted these way back, but as I’m missing Chas n Dave already, here they are again. And for our readers over the pond, this is what English pubs (and wives) still look like. At least mine did.
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She’s coming in for something and it aint a pint of beer
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The Fall of Paris
Franz Reichelt , “The Flying Tailor”. First (and last) attempt to test his new parachute, jumping from Eiffel Tower, February 4, 1912
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I’m All Wrong, Jack
I read with interest that they’re going to let cyclists travel the wrong way up a one-way street. Brilliant! I have enough problems crossing the road and avoid being mowed down by these bastards as it is, never mind getting rammed up the arse by one of them cos I was looking the wrong way. No, I’m not gonna start again, I have nothing more to add to what’s gone before (see previous rants) . Suffice to say I am considering buying a Renault and may be Piquet-ing myself across the road should I see any of the lycra fascists peddling towards me against the traffic. I’m not sure if Lewisham council employs a safety car, perhaps they can buy one out of the cash from all the parking tickets they dish out around Blackheath. Hurrumph.
I don’t know why I am surprised at this news as I have the feeling I’ve been looking the wrong way at life in general for some time. It’s all gone a bit how’s yer father, hasn’t it?: The Tories, if and when they get in, are gonna make massive defence cuts, while the Labour Party are attacking the BBC and wanting to “cut it down to size”. How are we supposed to know who to vote for (or indeed if)? Gordon’s been trying to please all sides for two years now and managed to please no-one. Osbourne enrages his natural allied voters by dropping schemes for aircraft carriers and fighters, while Bob Ainsworth (yes, isn’t he?) wants more nukes.
Under this supposedly socialist (small ‘s’) government, nothing is built without private money sticking it’s snout in, the poorest are still getting a kicking by the tax man and Gordon Brown courts big business and tabloid newspapers for their support next election (small ‘chance’). I was once at a press awards ceremony when the then Chancellor Gordon appeared, live by satellite, to laud praise on Paul Dacre, the editor of The Daily Mail. That’s The Editor of The Daily Mail. I felt distinctly bilious, it nearly put me off my champagne and canapes. The writing was on the wall there-and-then. Blair had already wooed The Sun and here was his McHenchman cuddling up the The Mail. Stone me.
Time was when you knew who was who and where you stood. Tories cut taxes to save their rich mates, Labour upped the rate to pay for schools, health and a cheese sandwich and a warm bottle of light ale for any passing Trades Unionist. Unelected Peers were given seats in Tory Governments, while the honest working man rose up through the (elected) ranks to become a lowly, humble, under-paid Labour MP. What now?:Baroness Mandelson even ran the country for a brief period this summer with four fewer votes than Hamid Karzai raised in Afghanistan (none).
Back in the day public spending soared under a Labour administration and those of us on the right (or is it left) side-of-the-tracks were happy to pay more for the common good. Tories would hack away at the Welfare State and sod anyone who couldn’t afford private hospitals or education. They defended and invested in the military and weaponry and invaded anyone who so much as look at us in a funny way, while Labour cut the Services budget, were the party of Ban The Bomb…and invaded anyone who so much as looked at us in a funny way.
And bikes rode the correct way up the street.
During the war….
Cotton Wool Sales Plummet
I can never play the drums again, says Phil Collins
By Daily Mail Reporter

oh. shame.
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Send Me Victorious, HD and Glorious
I’m back, kicking and screaming, into the 21st Century. I took the decision based on how much I’d missed. I took the decision because I was missing out. I took it because there’s too much coming up which I didn’t want to miss, and because I was drinking too much. And I took it because I’m a gadget-freak and I believed all the hype and the adverts.

Having fallen out with Sky TV (see Lions, Tigers and Beers previously) over the standard of their service, I’ve had a summer of watching my chosen sporting events from the bar of my local. No great hardship, you might think, supping a cold one as the footy, cricket or rugby is on the box? We’ll yes, and no. If the soccer is on, all four tvs in the pub show the match, sound up high and no-one moving off their stools or in front of the screen. A boozer packed with replica-shirted herberts all ooh-ing and ah-ing in unison is a fun place to be. Rugby matches, especially the internationals, are often accorded the same level of respect and attention as is the round-ball game, except on the whole the fans are bigger, drink more and are much better behaved.
Cricket on the other hand, even though it is the nation’s summer game, is often begrudgingly switched on to a couple of screens with the volume either right down or off altogether (though god help you if Man Utd or Chelsea are on the other channel, then cricket doesn’t get a look-in at all). There’s something distinctly unsatisfactory in watching a England vrs the Aussies to the sound of Puff Diddly or Lady Goo Goo blaring out over the sound system, when all you really want to hear is Botham seething in the comm box, or Bumble laughing at the fancy dress costumes in the crowd. No, unless there’s a packed mob whooping en-masse at an Australian collapse, or multilaterally despairing at the ineptitude of the English bowling display, the pub’s not the place to enjoy the great game. It’s also difficult to concentrate on anything when Dan Dan is looking at you.
So enough is enough, and I’ve gone all Cable TV on your ass. Step forward Lord Branson and his Virgin Media TV. Andy the tv engineer has this morning arrived to install it. I get, movies-on-demand, catch-up tv, recordable, pauseable, fast-forwardable tv AND Sky Sports AND much of it in “Glorious HD”, as the Sky advert would have us believe. And this time it’s not Sky equipment which I have to deal with and which will inevitably go down on me, it’s a Virgin Box. It’s a schoolboy dream, nearly. Fnarr fnarr.

So then, HD. How exciting is that? Truth is, I’m not really sure. Yeah yeah, I’m sure sport and movies will be stunningly (or should that be gloriously) enhanced when watched in HD, but surely they can be only as glorious or as stunning as my TV will allow? You’ll be fully aware of my technophobic tendancies and I have no idea how good or bad my telly is. It’s a couple-of-years-old Toshiba and it may well be ( and knowing my luck, it probably is) a bag of old shite, no more likely to give me the full, glorious, HD sensation than one of those wood-clad, 14-inch, 1970’s jobbies on which whole indian villages watch the world cup. Do I need to tramp down to Comet and spend wads of cash on the latest LED/LCD/Plasma box to make my new service worthwhile? Bloody hope not. Maybe I just go and get my eyes tested? I’m long overdue a visit to the opticians and I’m convinced my minces aren’t what they were. Gotta be cheaper than buying a new telly, hasn’t it?
You won’t have missed the fact (especially if you’ve been reading me) that The Beatles back-catalogue has been re-released having been digitally remastered. Will I really notice the difference if I play these CDs on my little mini-system? Granted, if I had a 3 grand, state-of-the-art hi-fi, with speakers the size of Belgium I might well be able to appreciate the cool clean repro on these new discs. But I have a cd player the size of a teasmaid, so I doubt that I’ll feel the benefit. And anyway, my ears need syringing. Poor old sod. Pardon ?
For those of you who feel a bit flush, this new Beatles stereo box set retails at £169.99, mono at a cheeky little £200. That doesn’t Please Please Me either.
Looking down the tv listings, there’s another thing that puzzles me. Do I really care that I now have the capability to watch Friday Night With Jonathan Ross in High Definition? I mean, next week he’s interviewing Ant n Dec. How glorious would HD have to be to make me enjoy that experience?

So while I’ve been tapping away here, Andy the Virgin man has been and gone. I’m hooked up, tuned in and watching a Steven Fry documentary in yes, GLORIOUS HD. It seems (and this will shock you) that I may have to upgrade my subscription if I want to be able to watch all the channels I thought I was getting, but Steven Fry will do for now. He looks pretty good in Hi Def, I suppose. I’m started playing with all the new gadgets and toys on my new cable service because England have just collapsed against the Australians at Lords. HD or LD, they’re still a bunch of wankers.
The Last Night of the Proms is on later. Pomp and Circumstance in crystal clear sound and vision. Try asking to watch that in your local.
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My Girl’s Mad at Me
Things are bad at home, she says she is sick of me. Always football, rugby, cricket…sport, sport, sport. So I booked a quiet table for 2 last night to try and patch things up. By 9 oclock things were 10 times worse… she hadn’t potted a single red.
(Thanks Tezza n Trev)
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Who Says The Camera Never Lies…?

She’s NOT from Deptford




