Monday, 24 December 2012

TV in the Festive Season...

Who knew there were that many Christmas films! Channel 5 is showing at least three a day, five some days, one after another! Still I guess it gives Steven Seagal a couple of weeks off. Elsewhere, on Freeview, we have the usual shit. Six hours of back to back episodes of Dog the Bounty Hunter...
But we've been through that before.
What annoys me, is that in general, no matter how good a TV show is, the Christmas Special is always a bit shit. And yet, year after year after year we are served up those very Christmas Specials as a reminder of how good those old shows used to be. Do you see the problem here?
And why is it that the 1970s is the 'Christmas' decade?
Furthermore, channels like 4 Music are sinking under the weight of three hour special-a-thons where a celebrity chooses their fave Christmas choons. I swear to God that Carol (Rear of the year) Vorderman was doing one yesterday... presumably on the strength of the fact that her name is Carol (geddit!). Fucks sake.
It's not like there's a bottomless pit of Christmas songs to choose from is it? You can guarantee to hear Mistletoe and Wine and Slade at least every 90 minutes.
I wouldn't mind but since I've got a cold I wouldn't mind watching TV this Christmas, but fuck that. yesterday I watched the entire third series of Black Books instead.

Sunday, 4 November 2012

It's only a fucking kettle...

Our kettle is disintegrating, rapidly. Part of the handle fell off yesterday. Well I say it fell off, I actually broke it off in the process of trying to see if it was mendable. It wasn't. Well, perhaps it was, but it was fucked in other ways too. Trouble is, we've bought 4 kettles in the last week and they've all been shit!
Kettle number one, a silver Breville from Argos. I don't know how but the plastic was moulded in such a way that it looked like it had cracks all over it, it didn't it just looked like it was cracked. I don't know if it worked or not because I never tried to use it. When I took it back the woman in Argos got another three kettles out and they were all the same. Shoddy quality control from Breville, frankly if you let them go out looking like that what else could be wrong with them?
Next, a funky looking white and grey Philips kettle which worked fine (albeit a little bit wobbly on it's base) but made the water taste of plastic. I boiled it and boiled it and boiled it, I even tried descaling it, but no, the water still tasted of plastic. So I took that one back too.
Next a black own brand kettle from Sainsbury's, which upon opening I realised was the exact same one that we have at work. The one at work only lasted a few days before the lid stopped opening, and guess what, the lid on this one wouldn't even open straight out of the box. For fucks sake, this was getting beyond a joke.
So now we have a Russell Hobbs brushed silver one, which seems to be okay.... it's a fucking miracle!
In this day and age should it really be necessary to buy four kettles to get one that actually works and doesn't make the water taste disgusting, I mean a kettle is a pretty simple concept. It's a jug that heats water, that's all it has to do to function, and yet it seems so difficult to achieve.
Still I guess at least we should be grateful that there's no iKettle yet, a device which boils water, while simultaneously allowing you to update your status on CuntBook to 'boiling water on my iKettle'. Still it's probably only a matter of time. Apple seem intent on centring people's whole lives around their bloody phones (or personal devices as they will inevitably become known) so an attachment for boiling water seems a fairly rudimentary step.
Was anyone else surprised that an app for accessing your bank account failed spectacularly at launch? Some things shouldn't be too simple, especially accessing your fucking bank account, don't these people realise that there are bad people out there who will misuse new technology, I sometimes wonder...

Sunday, 30 September 2012

Some choice...

Ah, multichannel TV, what a wonderful thing.... well, sometimes, yes it is. But this afternoon I was looking to watch something for a few minutes while I gathered the energy to go clean the bathroom and what a sorry pile of shit I found. Well, that's to be expected after all it is freeview!
Okay, but that's really not what annoys me, it's the laziness of the scheduling. What do we have on Pick TV today? Ten one hour episodes of 'Dog the Bounty Hunter' back to back. Okay so what about Viva? Ten episodes of 'The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air' back to back. What about Dave? Ten episodes of 'Red Dwarf' back to back.
It's not that I have anything particular against any of these shows, but even if they were my favourite shows I wouldn't want to watch it all fucking day, and in the case of 'Prince of Bel-Air' they've been showing this thing for months now, how many episodes are there for fucks sake? Not enough to warrant the amount of rotation they're getting that's for sure.
And another thing, when REALLY launched it showed promise, giving us two series of the excellent Tool Academy US and Tough Love, but now... it's wall to wall Medical Emergency over and over and over and over and over... interspersed with Emergency Room and some other medical shit. Who watches that stuff anyway?

Noisy pub wankers...

There's a pub near here that we really like, it's a ten minute drive but since I don't drink anyway that's not an issue for us. However, recently there's been a problem. This woman has started going there and sitting near our favourite table (the bitch!). Trouble is she seems to be in constant hysterics and she laughs at 150db. And it's really fucking annoying.
Last week we sat around the corner in a little room off the main pub, but it's a bit cold in there and you feel a bit out of the buzz (and one of the lights is a bit dodgy and keeps turning itself on and off), besides you could still hear her yacking away like a fucking.... like a fucking.... well I don't know what really.
How satisfying would it be to just slap her round the face and tell her to shut the fuck up? Oh that would be my idea of paradise, a world where people who are that fucking annoying could just be 'dealt with'. I'm not talking permanent injury or death (though shooting her in the face would be fun...) just you know, a short sharp shock to make them realise what cunts they are. One can dream..

Saturday, 15 September 2012

I helsike du ikea

In their infinite fucking wisdom, furniture giant Ikea have decided to drop all the Swedish food from their Swedish shop and replace it with sub standard (and non-Swedish in some cases) crap instead, under their own label. Truth be told this doesn't bother me for the most part, since a) I hardly ever go to Ikea, and b) most everything in the shop was disgusting anyway.
But... and it is a significant but, the one thing that made a trip to Ikea worthwhile was the chance to purchase the awesome and otherwise very difficult to get hold of Maribou range of chocolate. So when I rocked up at my local store and found that the Maribou range had been replaced I was not best pleased at all. Instead I found some very uninteresting looking bars of 'Ikea' chocolate which the staff insisted tasted 'just the same' as the Maribou stuff.
Now call me a sceptical old bastard, but this own brand shit was half the price of the Maribou range, moreover the packaging was massively shit, and common sense tells me that quality chocolate does not come in shit looking packaging. Think Lindt, think Hotel Chocolat.... and then look at this.

I bet your mouth is watering already huh. I mean who the fuck thought that was good packaging? Supermarkets have better packaging than that on their own brands... still I would be kicking myself if I didn't try it wouldn't I? If it turned out to really taste 'just like the Maribou stuff'.
Well I did, and guess what.... it tastes fuck all like the Maribou stuff, absolutely fuck all. The staff are lying bastards who should all die in hell for their complete bullshittery, though I suspect they may have been instructed to lie by their evil corporate-cocksucking paymasters.
It tastes fucking horrible as a matter of fact, it's bitter and I only ate a couple of squares (believe me, chocolate has to suck for me to spurn it!), it tastes exactly what it is, cheap rubbish.
So disappointing, not least because Maribou seems only to be available through the internet at a vastly inflated price. Well thanks Ikea, thank you for jack shit. 
Not only that, but Mistress R bought some of the 'Ikea' replacement brand chocolate marshmallow thingys and she ate one and chucked the rest in the bin. Well I can only hope that people all over the country are doing exactly the same and soon Ikea, you profit-mongering fuckwads, will realise the error of your ways! 

Saturday, 4 August 2012

BBQ Wankers...

Every year it's the same, the first hint of sunshine and people feel compelled to burn their food in the garden. Why? I just don't get it. And worse still, if you tell people you don't get it, they look at you like you're fucking mental.
"You don't like barbecues?"
No I fucking don't.
It's simple really, I don't like being in the sun and being in the sun kind of goes hand in hand with burning sausages in your back garden.
But everyone likes the sun, surely?
No, they don't.
It's not that I'm worried I'll contract melanoma if I stand in the sun eating a charcoal flavoured sausage, though that isn't a bad reason to stay out of it. I just don't like the sun, it makes me feel a bit sick if I'm out in it for too long.
It's fucking antisocial as well, not only does it stink, and mean that when you really want your windows open you have to shut them because the arsehole next door is burning his dinner and the smoke always blows this fucking way, but of course for some reason cooking outside means you have to invite all your friends round so that if one of you succumbs to food poisoning you can all go to hospital together.
Oh and while you're at it bring your kids too...
Another reason as if one were needed for keeping the windows closed, all that fucking screeching and shouting. And that's just her next door bellowing at the kids to get off of this or that, stay out of the chicken coop (don't even get me started on the fucking chicken coop) or just general shouting for the sake of it.
So what's so great about barbecues (I refuse to call them BBQ's) anyway?
You have an oven in your kitchen which seems to cook food perfectly well the rest of the year and yet for some reason come the summer it's 'necessary' to cook on an open fire. Some people even have gas barbecues..... words fail me. That's just an oven - outside. Cook inside then bring it outside to eat (if you must), what the fuck? Why is it necessary to cook it outside?
Why is it necessary to eat outside either?
Very rarely is it hot and completely still, so even if it's warm you still have to watch your lettuce doesn't blow away, and then you've got flies buzzing around, shitting on everything in sight. I mean what is the point? That is if you have lettuce of course, which most people don't. No, barbecued food generally means crappy white bread rolls with a ridiculously burnt (or possibly scarily undercooked) sausage or burger on a paper plate. Well whoop-de-fucking-do, why didn't you say so.... how could I resist. I was going to have a Marks and Spencer's Woodhouse Chicken with brown mushrooms and spinach, but no, fuck that shit, I'll come round and eat blackened beef in a shitty white roll.
A few years ago our neighbours had their first barbecue and they actually invited us round. I guess we could have made the effort, but the thing is, that would have meant that every time they had a barbecue they would have felt obligated to invite us around again, which wouldn't be such a problem if they didn't have children. Not just children but one child who is surely destined for Olympic standard shouting and bossiness one day, and one child who cries every fucking day for no apparent reason.
The problem is, there's only so much shouting and screaming and running about one can take before one is tempted to leave one's leg out in the hope that a small child trips over it. And that won't endear me to anyone, so instead I steer well clear.
And if that means sitting indoors with my windows closed and a fan on then so be it...
Oh yeah, and barbecue sauce, who the fuck invented that, it's vile!

Friday, 3 August 2012

Commentate properly or STFU!

Olympic fever is well and truly here.... every TV ad is somehow connected to the olympic circus, the official washing powder of London 2012! The offical car wax of London 2012! The official female hygiene product of London 2012... etc etc. It's very wearing, in fact if you want your advert to stand out the last thing you want is anything to do with the olympics.
I have hardly seen any of it to be honest, but I've heard plenty on the radio at work and Jesus Christ the commentators get on my fucking nerves. Especially that arsehole that was commentating on the cycling the other day when Bradley Wiggins was competing.

"And it's Bradley Wiggins, Bradley Wiggins blah blah blah, Bradley Wiggins, Bradley Wiggins blah blah, Bradley Wiggins, Bradley Wiggins, Bradley Wiggin's voracious appetite for medals, Blah blah Bradley Wiggins, Bradley Wiggins Bradley Wiggins, Bradley Wiggins blah blah, Bradley Wiggins Bradley Wiggins Bradley Wiggins Bradley Wiggins Bradley Wiggins, Bradley Wiggins Bradley Wiggins BradleyWiggins BradleyWiggins BradleyWiggins BradleyWiggins BradleyWiggins BradlyWigginsBradlyWigginsBradleyWiggins!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Now, forgive me but that isn't commentating, that's just repeating the guy's name over and over and over again, fuck me, I could have done that! How much is this tit getting paid exactly?

Wednesday, 18 July 2012

Everyone's on a fucking journey...

Enough already. Everyone's on a fucking 'journey'. Be it weight loss, a quest for fame via some lame ass talent show, a quest for anything really.... it's all punctuated with endless references to the 'journey' and I for one am sick of it. Of course the TV love all this shit. No one can just want to be famous, or rich, or want to fuck lots of hot chicks/dudes, you can't even get on a TV show these days unless you have a harrowing back story.
Case in point, we've just started watching series eight of the Biggest Loser, and there is a contestant on there who's mother died a heroin addict, so she's on a 'journey' to overcome this (fine, okay... no quibble with you, I have no idea what shit this poor girl's been through and I'm not belittling it in the slightest) I bet she thought she was on safe ground with that one, but no, she's beaten down into second place by our biggest 'journeyist', the woman who's entire family was wiped out by a speeding driver.
Now that's a fucking journey!!!
Look, I know I sound like a heartless bastard, but believe me I feel for her. But the way the TV portrays it all, constantly flashing back to her heart wrenching story 'reveal' (with instant 'sad' music overlay) you can't help but roll your eyes after the third or fourth time. Not least because no matter what this woman does (and now she's injured so she's gonna be in even greater danger of being up for elimination) no-one can vote her off for fear of vilification from the viewing public.
That poor woman's injured, she only lost a pound and YOU voted for her to go home.... AFTER ALL SHE'S BEEN THROUGH!!!! How do you sleep at night you evil piece of shit?
The thing is, this over-egging the pudding just works against them in the end, at least in my mind...
Last week they were competing to win phone calls from home and I couldn't help but think... well, not such a big deal for her... is it?

Saturday, 30 June 2012


I saw in a local paper the other day that a guy had been jailed for a couple of months for drowning his dog in a bath of water because it failed to bite a burglar. It also said the guy had previously been jailed twice before for violence, including one incident where he assaulted a fifteen yr old (so badly he had to have his face rebuilt with metal plates).
This worthless piece of shit will kill someone one day, mark my words. What the fuck is wrong with society that he is allowed his freedom after a matter of weeks?
A friend of mine has moved to Australia and started working voluntarily at an animal shelter, she said there's a kitten there that had it's ears cut off... that makes me so fucking angry. How could anyone do that to a kitten? I saw a little kid once throw something at one of my cats and I wanted to batter the little cunt.
I actually chased him down the street, but fortunately I didn't do anything more than give him a piece of my mind.
The older I get the more I really can't be doing with people. I know these scum are the minority and there are a lot of good people out there, but I just can't be bothered with most of them.
Sometimes I can really see where Slipknot are coming from with a song like 'People=Shit'.

Tuesday, 26 June 2012

Bulging brides my arse...

Mistress R and I are somewhat obsessed with 'Biggest Loser USA', series seven of which is currently being shown here in the afternoons on a channel called Pick TV. We watch it every single day without fail, we're just hoping that when it finishes we get season eight!
 When the channel 'Really' started, we were treated to the truly epic 'Tool Academy USA' so we were pissed when Really tailed off and just became a 24/7 mishmash of Border Control/Police Camera Bollocks, with only Cheaters (and that's weak!) in it's place. 
So we were really rather chuffed when a new series came on a couple of weeks ago right before 'Biggest Loser', called 'Bridalplasty'... oh yes, now there was epic car crash reality TV that could maybe even play in the big leagues with the likes of Brett Michaels' 'Rock of Love'. Sadly, it was over all too soon... and the memory of a dozen women competing to have their noses splinted, boobs enhanced and chins and arms liposuctioned (not to mention getting the wedding of their dreams) is already fading, so we were excited to see a new show had replaced 'Bridalplasty' called 'Bulging Brides'.
Unfortunately, BB's does not live up to the name. I was expecting a house full of hateful, roly-poly fridge bothers, calling each other 'be-atch' and maybe even throwing each other in a pool. But no, there's none of that, the first bride was under 140lbs... what the fuck! That's not bulging.... that's like the skinniest person you know moaning that they have a fat arse, just fuck off!
Consider that a point against you Pick TV, get your finger out, this is just shit. Why not plunder the Charm School series or give us the first series of Tool Academy that Really omitted to broadcast. And while you're at it make sure you've got the next series of Biggest Loser ready to go, I know there's about another five (plus the five before you started showing them!).
Totally stoked to see Tara kicking Sione's ass in the car pulling challenge after they all ganged up on her to handicap her with extra weight. Awesome job!

Thursday, 31 May 2012

Senior moments...

So annoying. On the drive to work this morning something annoyed me and I thought it would make a perfect rant, but now I can't remember what the fuck it was. I guess this is what comes of getting older, I remember my Grandpa walking into the lounge once with the teapot in his hand... and asking us where the teapot was. I also remember him looking for his glasses when they were on top of his head. He wasn't senile or anything, just old... still I guess it's better than the alternative.

Monday, 30 April 2012

But, she's so beautiful...

I watched one of those '40 Craziest Celebrity Divorces' kind of programmes on Really last night (I know, I can't help it), and the thing that makes me laugh is the way the 'talking head' people are like 'how could you cheat on her, she's so beautiful'. For instance, some guy (I forget his name) was married to Halle Berry, and apparently he cheated on her, and they were just completely unable to compute that this guy cheated on Halle Berry, Halle Fucking Berry for fucks sake! Because she's so gorgeous...
I'm not arguing that Halle Berry is attractive, but maybe she's not a particularly nice person, or maybe she spends so much time at the gym that she's too tired for sex, or maybe she doesn't want to accommodate this blokes kinks, or whatever.... Don't get me wrong I'm not saying that these are justifications for infidelity, because they aren't, but you can't just say 'Halle Berry is gorgeous why would anyone cheat on her', it's a fucking stupid statement.
I mean, this guy lives with her every day, he's not going to be in awe of her every time he sees her naked, it will become 'normal', it has to. He's seen her drunk, or with a cold, or whatever...
Beauty is far too easily confused with sexiness these days, most Hollywood beauties have as much sex appeal as a broken twig as far as I'm concerned, and the chances are that even the most 'normal' of them are probably neurotic to some extent, they don't live a normal life so how can you really expect them to be 'normal'.
A relatively 'plain' looking woman can still be smoking hot, if she's confident and you have the right chemistry together, on the other hand if you don't have the right chemistry then it doesn't matter how good looking you are, looks aren't gonna last you a lifetime.
Besides, would you rather be dating Halle Berry or say, Sasha Grey?

Tuesday, 31 January 2012


Why oh why oh why are you not allowed to buy more than two packets of paracetomol (or products containing the same)? If I was contemplating suicide would it really defeat me to have to go to more than one shop to buy enough to kill myself? And would I really choose to end it all with Lemsip? Come on!!!

Monday, 9 January 2012

I just don't get it...

Why is it that the greatest crime of the 21st century is having a hairy back? When did this happen? And why is it such a big deal? Questions, questions and more questions. I for one have quite a hairy back, and should I ever become single again (Heaven forbid!) I worry that I would have to make a visit to the waxing salon before I even thought about entertaining the idea of a 'date'...
What I don't quite understand is why it's the back that's the problem. If you don't like hairy men, well fair enough, we all have our types, our likes and dislikes and the things that are deal breakers (mine's mainly children or the desire to create them), but why is a hairy back so much worse than a hairy chest? I just don't get it.
Really, if that's the biggest problem you have in a prospective relationship, then either your priorities are all off kilter or you have truly met the perfect man. I have this imaginary scenario running around my head where I am on a date with a hot woman and I keep spewing out all my heinous faults, my huge gambling debts, my inability to stay faithful, my out of control drinking, my 40 a day habit, my sudden unprovoked jealous rages, my uncontrollable letching at inappropriately aged girls in bars... all of these are dismissed with little more than a roll of the eyes and an almost imperceptible shrug. And then I hit her with the big one, the hairy back.
No sooner have the words left my lips then she's on her feet, her wine glass thrust into my face, it's contents soaking slowly into my Armani shirt... "You pig," she screams as she flees the restaurant, only pausing at the door to reveal my terrible secret to the rest of the diners, before hurrying from sight, the cold night air streaming in through the open door until one of the sour faced (and no doubt smooth backed)  waiters crosses the now utterly silent room to close it. I look around the beautifully decorated room but see nothing but dozens of disbelieving eyes starring unblinkingly at me, their expressions somewhere between horror and disgust, until finally I can take it no more and call for the bill.
The smooth backed waiter brings my check immediately, bends close to my ear and whispers in his most disdainful voice 'Don't come back here until you have your affairs in order, your kind make me sick'.


After reading this Mistress R and I discussed this and she said isn't it weird how not that long ago having a hairy chest was a sign of male virility, and if you have a hairy chest you probably have a hairy back too. She went on to point out that she couldn't actually think of a single male 'celebrity' with any hair at all, front or back, which seems incredibly unlikely doesn't it? 

You got served...

This post isn't so much a rant, because the subject doesn't annoy me, more bemused amusement...

Walking through Asda (that's Wal-Mart for our American readers) yesterday I spotted a selection of cheap DVDs. Among them was a DVD called 'You Got Served', a phrase I'd previously heard on South Park. And sure enough the DVD in question appeared to be a 'Dancing' video. Now I don't know about you, but outside of the school of performing arts or possibly the set of 'Glee', has anyone ever had someone come up to them and challenge them to a dance off?
Really? Well, not round these parts, but perhaps since this seems to be an American thing it's more common over the pond?
It's a strangely Pythonesque idea that if I was ever to venture into 'the Hood' (as I believe it's called), that rather than being mugged and shot by drug-dealing Yankees-cap wearing yoofs, I might be challenged to dance for my aggressors. I can see them now, leaping over cars in brightly coloured clothing, brandishing a ghetto blaster (can we still call them that or have the taste police put a stop to that?) and bouncing around me in their unlaced, and again almost inevitably brightly coloured trainers (of course, being English, I have almost certainly no talent for dancing. We Brits are about as stiff as it's possible to be when it comes to that sort of thing).
Or perhaps it's a load of bollocks that only actually happens in films and on TV? I hope not, cos it would be quite funny to watch and a positive step up from drive-by shootings.

Thursday, 5 January 2012

Peach halves...

Fucking peach halves piss me RIGHT off. I like tinned peaches, they are much nicer than proper peaches and healthy and all that jazz (in juice not syrup!). Peach slices are bloody lovely, but peach halves suck. First of all, when you tip them into a bowl they are too big so they splash the juice over the side and onto the worktop. Second of all, you have to cut them up so you can eat them. What's the point of a peach half? Nobody is going to eat them whole so everyone is cutting them up. Thirdly, for some reason known only to Del Monte and the people who make supermarket peaches, peach slices are immune from the curse of the hard red bit where the peach flesh sticks to the stone in the middle. It is ghastly. And peach halves always have a bit of it.
Of course, you could well ask why then, instead of moaning about it, don't I buy peach slices and not peach halves? Well, there's a very simple answer, I would if I could find them. Plenty of peach halves for sale, not so many peach slices, perhaps cos everyone else thinks the same way I do and they've all been snapped up? I wouldn't be at all surprised!