Well it’s hello from me… and hello from him. So nice to have a split personality is it not? Yes? Good, then I have instantly doubled my reader base. Anyway, enough of that shite…
…I have rediscovered two things this week.
Firstly I have been listening to the delightful Brothers In Arms album from one of the all time greats, Mark Knophler and Dire Straits. Released back in 1985 it contained the first CGI video (for the Money for Nothing track) and gave them their highest ever chart hit (Walk of Life). As usual it is the less commercial tracks I focus on and aside from the sublime Brothers in Arms (which almost makes me want to sob for past memories, both my own and imagined, everytime I hear it) it’s Your Latest Trick that bounces in with a wailing saxophone and plenty of soul. Hearing it after a good few years, properly end to end at least, did prick up my ears to a few of the little elements I had never realised were there though. The slap bassline is straight from the mid 80s and familiar to those of you who enjoy the work of Japan (the band not the little dudes blowing up American battleships). Also the unlikely, I think, influence of reggae makes itself known here too…
…maybe that isn’t so odd as the ska movement was just beginning to fade out and reggae was becoming it’s replacement as the 80s moved on. Regardless of my feelings, if you haven’t heard the album for a while, or ever, then go and bloody well hear it.! Try out the other albums as well, plus his solo work.!
Secondly I rediscovered my love of kippers. Smoked fish is bloody marvellous. Not something to be eaten before going out though, unless you desire smelling like a lesbian with a forty a day habit.
The Tropicana deal has failed. Again. Hands up who couldn’t see that coming… *looks around* ah Mr Ap Rees and your other fellow “cunt”cillors, well done. Have this award I have suddenly came up with… it is called the David Blunkett Award For Not Seeing Anything. Ever.
COME OOOOOON, I mean, how bloody obvious does it have to be to these esteemed persons.?? I sent a snotty mail to MACE when they pulled out asking why the hell they bothered, no reply came back, I can only assume it was the faeces smeared across the letter in lieu of a signature. I wanted to know why any respectable company would tit a community around for so long. As soon as Henry Boot (wish we had told them to shoe… sorry) arrived on the scene it was like MACE had run off, put on a false moustache and come back again and what happens…?
…the “cunt”cil bends over, lowers it’s trousers and bellows “MORE PLEASE” through gleeful teeth. How come little old Fluffy Bunny, underpaid, overworked, retail team leader with no real qualifications, can spot the one chilli in the box of chocolates but a group of men and women paid to make decisions and with far more life experience than my tender, young self seem unable to give birth to the concept that a large company that is only interested in filling it’s bulging cheeks with all the nuts in the forest might grab all the nuts and then order a pizza and a curry at the expense of the people “employing” it. I can only assume that the whole band of bloody fools is sat around a table, stoned off their collective tits and the smoke rising from their many reefers, bongs and pipes is obscuring their view. They also seem to forget they are dealing with a development company… and they are generally as honest and truthful as a bag of lawyers covered in a Tony Blair sauce.
It’s bloomin’ crazy.! Maybe now they will build something that WE in Weston actually want and not some 83 story monolithic slab of concrete that would be more at home in Stalingrad during the 1920s that is designed to squeeze out as much revenue as possible for the “cunt”cil like a well baked turd from a dockers backside. Ap Rees (a man who has now taken over the Crockford-Hawley mantra “As welcome as dysentry in a rowing boat”) has said they will now “entertain smaller ideas” in other words ‘I am sorry we couldn’t build a hotel that looked like a multi-story car park, but now we can bulldoze it and replace it with a new building so scag heads and pissed up Londoners who have failed rehab can hang out somewhere new and clear the town centre’.
I am just watching Jeremy Kyle (and talking of the aforementioned ladies who dine at the Y) there is a 17 year old girl who is trapped in a girl’s body and wants to be a boy. I was trapped in a 17 year old’s body once… but a little Vaseline helped me out.
Bye all.!