Due to downloading most of my television these days, I tend not to see too many adverts, however I include one I saw recently below:
The above advert is for Strongbow cider – a drink I haven’t had in a good couple of years.
There are a couple of problems with this advert that I find pretty annoying.
Firstly, the drink is meant to be portrayed as refreshing, however while in the trance after savouring his drink, the guy misses a goal. Surely going down the pub with his mates to watch the football match was the main reason he was there in the first place. Now he’s just missed one of the most important parts of the game...not the best advertising slogan – “Drink Strongbow and you’ll miss all the goals”…
Secondly, his mates are half-way through their pints, while the Strongbow man has had only one sip. This difference in speed of drinking would completely fuck-up any round buying system that you and your mates had going on.
Moral of the story…stick to lager. Or if you fancy cider, drink a nice one – such as Magners.
Sunday 22 April 2007
Saturday 21 April 2007
New Steve & Dave
New Steve & Dave Part 5...
Click on the above image to see it full size.
Remeber a new Steve & Dave will be posted every Saturday - so please check back in the future.
Also, click the underlined Steve & Dave link at the bottom of this post to see all previous Steve & Dave strips.
Friday 20 April 2007
A large gathering
I was walking to university the other day when I passed through Royal Exchange Square and noticed a large group of people standing looking at a group of police officers.
My first thought was there had been a murder and this may be quite exciting to watch. My mind wandered through dozens of possibilities and I started to hope that a Lieutenant Columbo figure would turn up in a battered Peugeot convertible, sucking on a cigar, muttering to himself about tying up loose ends.
This obviously was not going to be the case, and as I looked a little closer I realised that the police were just standing around, waiting outside one of the shops next to some very expensive looking black cars.
There were now two possibilities – one, that a very rich person was out shopping and had hired a squad of policemen to guard his mega-expensive cars when he went about his business. It is the centre of Glasgow after all and you can never be too careful when it comes to car crime.
Or, more likely, that a famous person was visiting the city and the police were there to provide personal protection.
I turned to the guy stood next to me and asked him what was going on. He said that he had no idea. I then asked the two young ladies to his right and again, they had no answer. I then asked the old couple that were behind me and they told me that they had seen a large crowd and joined it to see what was happening – once again, they had no idea.
I started wondering just how large a crowd had to be before people join it without and reason. Obviously one is not enough, or else crowds would form every time someone stopped in the street, but it was an interesting phenomenon.
After asking about ten more people – none of whom could shed any light on the situation – I walked up to one of the policemen and asked him what was going on.
His reply was that it was a Royal visit and Princess Anne was in one of the shops.
I returned to my original position and told the guy, girls and everyone around what I had found out.
The guy’s response was – “Oh fuck that!” and he wandered away, annoyed that he had wasted five minutes on such a trivial matter.
After 30 seconds, the area where I had been previously standing was totally empty.
I guess Royal visits aren’t as special as they used to be. I certainly didn’t hang around for a glimpse of someone I couldn’t care less about.
The initial excitement about who was inside the shop was over and I wondered who would have been exciting enough to hang about to see.
My conclusion was – anyone but Princess Anne.
Fuck it; I’m sure most of the crowd would have stayed if I had told them that it had been one of the Proclaimers...
...though maybe not the idiot Socialist one - the other one...the clever one...
My first thought was there had been a murder and this may be quite exciting to watch. My mind wandered through dozens of possibilities and I started to hope that a Lieutenant Columbo figure would turn up in a battered Peugeot convertible, sucking on a cigar, muttering to himself about tying up loose ends.
This obviously was not going to be the case, and as I looked a little closer I realised that the police were just standing around, waiting outside one of the shops next to some very expensive looking black cars.
There were now two possibilities – one, that a very rich person was out shopping and had hired a squad of policemen to guard his mega-expensive cars when he went about his business. It is the centre of Glasgow after all and you can never be too careful when it comes to car crime.
Or, more likely, that a famous person was visiting the city and the police were there to provide personal protection.
I turned to the guy stood next to me and asked him what was going on. He said that he had no idea. I then asked the two young ladies to his right and again, they had no answer. I then asked the old couple that were behind me and they told me that they had seen a large crowd and joined it to see what was happening – once again, they had no idea.
I started wondering just how large a crowd had to be before people join it without and reason. Obviously one is not enough, or else crowds would form every time someone stopped in the street, but it was an interesting phenomenon.
After asking about ten more people – none of whom could shed any light on the situation – I walked up to one of the policemen and asked him what was going on.
His reply was that it was a Royal visit and Princess Anne was in one of the shops.
I returned to my original position and told the guy, girls and everyone around what I had found out.
The guy’s response was – “Oh fuck that!” and he wandered away, annoyed that he had wasted five minutes on such a trivial matter.
After 30 seconds, the area where I had been previously standing was totally empty.
I guess Royal visits aren’t as special as they used to be. I certainly didn’t hang around for a glimpse of someone I couldn’t care less about.
The initial excitement about who was inside the shop was over and I wondered who would have been exciting enough to hang about to see.
My conclusion was – anyone but Princess Anne.
Fuck it; I’m sure most of the crowd would have stayed if I had told them that it had been one of the Proclaimers...
...though maybe not the idiot Socialist one - the other one...the clever one...
Thursday 19 April 2007
Sunshine
Yesterday I went to the cinema with my girlfriend, Claire, to see Sunshine. The reason for this choice of film was that it was the only film we could see while still being able to make our restaurant reservation in time.
It’s been a long time since I saw a film that I thought was rubbish – but this was one of them.
Nothing about the plot made any sense at all.
A brief synopsis is as follows – The sun is dying and mankind needs to fix it. They have the brilliant plan of flying a nuclear bomb into the middle of the sun and detonating it, thus regenerating the giant star and everyone can continue their lives in peace.
This plot just prompts so many questions – which must have come up when the film-makers originally pitched their ideas to the studio. I imagine the conversation going something like this, (with ‘S’ standing for Studio and ‘F’ for film-makers):
S - So, how will this ship fly that close to the sun without burning up?
F- Well, they have this big shield in front of the craft made of sun-resistant metal…yeah…that should work…
S - Why will one nuclear bomb make any difference, when the sun is the equivalent of a fusion reactor with millions of hydrogen bombs being detonated per second?
F - It just will and we won’t really explain it properly…
S - Surely the bit where the two guys travel through space with no suits is just impossible?
F – Well, we will wrap them in some tin-foil like stuff; the audience will surely let us away with it if we make the material shiny enough…shiny things in sci-fi always works
S – Hmmm, I’m not really sure this film is what we’re looking for. I mean, the idea of the sun exploding and killing everyone in the galaxy just isn’t scary enough…
F – What if we add in a bit about a crazy guy running amok with a scalpel trying to kill everyone…basically we will just copy and merge together the premise from the films Armageddon and Alien very, very poorly.
S – Well, they were very successful movies. Are we talking about just a regular guy with a scalpel? That’s not very scary.
F – What if the guy has no skin?
S – Deal.
And from that, Sunshine was born. Actually it probably didn’t happen that way. I have credited them with having a conversation and thinking about the many plot holes in the movie…this clearly couldn’t have happened.
We should have just stayed in the house and watched some Babylon 5.
It’s been a long time since I saw a film that I thought was rubbish – but this was one of them.
Nothing about the plot made any sense at all.
A brief synopsis is as follows – The sun is dying and mankind needs to fix it. They have the brilliant plan of flying a nuclear bomb into the middle of the sun and detonating it, thus regenerating the giant star and everyone can continue their lives in peace.
This plot just prompts so many questions – which must have come up when the film-makers originally pitched their ideas to the studio. I imagine the conversation going something like this, (with ‘S’ standing for Studio and ‘F’ for film-makers):
S - So, how will this ship fly that close to the sun without burning up?
F- Well, they have this big shield in front of the craft made of sun-resistant metal…yeah…that should work…
S - Why will one nuclear bomb make any difference, when the sun is the equivalent of a fusion reactor with millions of hydrogen bombs being detonated per second?
F - It just will and we won’t really explain it properly…
S - Surely the bit where the two guys travel through space with no suits is just impossible?
F – Well, we will wrap them in some tin-foil like stuff; the audience will surely let us away with it if we make the material shiny enough…shiny things in sci-fi always works
S – Hmmm, I’m not really sure this film is what we’re looking for. I mean, the idea of the sun exploding and killing everyone in the galaxy just isn’t scary enough…
F – What if we add in a bit about a crazy guy running amok with a scalpel trying to kill everyone…basically we will just copy and merge together the premise from the films Armageddon and Alien very, very poorly.
S – Well, they were very successful movies. Are we talking about just a regular guy with a scalpel? That’s not very scary.
F – What if the guy has no skin?
S – Deal.
And from that, Sunshine was born. Actually it probably didn’t happen that way. I have credited them with having a conversation and thinking about the many plot holes in the movie…this clearly couldn’t have happened.
We should have just stayed in the house and watched some Babylon 5.
Wednesday 18 April 2007
Magic...A kind of blog
Last week I went to see a Queen tribute concert at The Eastwood Theatre (a massive venue where all the big people play…such as primary school talent shows and retarded kids doing Shakespeare).
I had seen this band before, about six years ago in The Pavillion Theatre in the centre of Glasgow. I remember this gig being great, with the sell-out crowd constantly on their feet singing along to absolutely every song.
It was therefore a bit of a disappointment when my friend Oliek and I turned up to find the theatre just over half-full. Not only was there a small crowd – but a lot of the audience were young children – probably between the ages of 5 and 12. Perhaps they had mixed up the dates for their tribute acts and turned up to a Queen gig when instead they were here to see Gary Glitter.
The bands name is “Magic…A Kind of Queen”. A very clever name you would have to agree, what with the song, album and tour of 1985 being called “Queen…A Kind Of Magic”.
The same guys also do an E.L.O. (Electric Light Orchestra) tribute where they are called – “Magic…A Kind of E.L.O.”
This doesn’t work at all.
Anyway, the first half of the gig was pretty flat, so when it came to the half-time interval, Oliek and I decided to hit the bar in an attempt to loosen up a bit for the second half.
On bottle of beer and four aftershocks later the show had started again and the audience participation was in full-flow…even if there were only two of us singing along. In reality there might have been – but I was so aftershocked up I didn’t really care.
And who ever said they didn’t need alcohol to have a good time – in this instance it helped immensely!
I had seen this band before, about six years ago in The Pavillion Theatre in the centre of Glasgow. I remember this gig being great, with the sell-out crowd constantly on their feet singing along to absolutely every song.
It was therefore a bit of a disappointment when my friend Oliek and I turned up to find the theatre just over half-full. Not only was there a small crowd – but a lot of the audience were young children – probably between the ages of 5 and 12. Perhaps they had mixed up the dates for their tribute acts and turned up to a Queen gig when instead they were here to see Gary Glitter.
The bands name is “Magic…A Kind of Queen”. A very clever name you would have to agree, what with the song, album and tour of 1985 being called “Queen…A Kind Of Magic”.
The same guys also do an E.L.O. (Electric Light Orchestra) tribute where they are called – “Magic…A Kind of E.L.O.”
This doesn’t work at all.
Anyway, the first half of the gig was pretty flat, so when it came to the half-time interval, Oliek and I decided to hit the bar in an attempt to loosen up a bit for the second half.
On bottle of beer and four aftershocks later the show had started again and the audience participation was in full-flow…even if there were only two of us singing along. In reality there might have been – but I was so aftershocked up I didn’t really care.
And who ever said they didn’t need alcohol to have a good time – in this instance it helped immensely!
Tuesday 17 April 2007
A gap in blogging...
As my introduction states at the top of this page – “I am inherently lazy”.
Those of you that have checked the blog in the last five days will have noticed that I haven’t posted at all. I wish I had a good reason for this. The best I can do is that I had a bit of coursework for uni (this was done in one night) and my Babylon 5 complete collection eventually arrived from Amazon. Not really the sort of stuff that prevents me taking 20 minutes a day to post on the internet…
So firstly, you have my apologies. While I may pretend to be as good as Richard Herring when it comes to posting a blog entry every day, I clearly am not. (Although in fairness, Richard doesn’t always post every single day – I am sure I have seen him post twice in one day…this however is obviously better than the five entries I am back dating at the moment…)
A reasonable amount has happened – which you can now read all about.
One big development is the start of Mark Nelson’s blog. Mark won the Scottish Comedian of the Year contest for 2006/7 and is currently one of the hottest bits of comedy property on the stand-up market. Go check out his blog – if it’s as good as his stand-up (which from the first few entries, I can say it is) then its going to be a great read.
Let’s just hope Mark can do a wee bit better than me when it comes to posting regularly every day.
This won’t happen again…I promise…well, maybe when the next Columbo box-set is released, but extenuating circumstances permitting…
Those of you that have checked the blog in the last five days will have noticed that I haven’t posted at all. I wish I had a good reason for this. The best I can do is that I had a bit of coursework for uni (this was done in one night) and my Babylon 5 complete collection eventually arrived from Amazon. Not really the sort of stuff that prevents me taking 20 minutes a day to post on the internet…
So firstly, you have my apologies. While I may pretend to be as good as Richard Herring when it comes to posting a blog entry every day, I clearly am not. (Although in fairness, Richard doesn’t always post every single day – I am sure I have seen him post twice in one day…this however is obviously better than the five entries I am back dating at the moment…)
A reasonable amount has happened – which you can now read all about.
One big development is the start of Mark Nelson’s blog. Mark won the Scottish Comedian of the Year contest for 2006/7 and is currently one of the hottest bits of comedy property on the stand-up market. Go check out his blog – if it’s as good as his stand-up (which from the first few entries, I can say it is) then its going to be a great read.
Let’s just hope Mark can do a wee bit better than me when it comes to posting regularly every day.
This won’t happen again…I promise…well, maybe when the next Columbo box-set is released, but extenuating circumstances permitting…
Monday 16 April 2007
House Parties
So I was reading the newspaper the other day and came across the excellent story about the girl in Tyne & Wear that had a house party when her parents were away on holiday.
Now this is nothing new – I had the occasional party when I was a teenager, when I had an empty.
However, this girl had a skins party. For those not aware of what a skins party is, it is a gathering of people that have the sole intention of drinking/smoking/shagging while doing as much damage to the venue as possible.
Now while I have attended parties that have transcended into this – the host certainly didn’t start off with the intention of ruining their property.
What makes the story even better is that the girl advertised the party on MYSPACE – basically inviting anyone, anywhere to come round to her home and break some valuables.
If I ever went to one of these parties, I could see myself taking the flat screen TV for my own front room rather than smashing it against the wall…some would say I just am not all that fun anymore…
In the end there was over £20,000 worth of damage done after all items were broken and carpets and walls urinated/defecated upon. I wish I had been there when her parents arrived home and she had tried to explain her way out of it. This situation would be hard to blame on the dog (although not impossible with the correct manipulation of events).
Apparently she has left home and is surprisingly no longer on speaking terms with her mum – who coincidently, wants her arrested.
Now I remember being rebellious as a teenager – but the extent of my rebellion was getting drunk at the weekends, starting smoking and I recall once telling my dad to “fuck off”. Extremely tame in comparison to Rachel Bell.
Looks like even though I’m only just in my twenties, I really am out of touch with the youth of today…
Now this is nothing new – I had the occasional party when I was a teenager, when I had an empty.
However, this girl had a skins party. For those not aware of what a skins party is, it is a gathering of people that have the sole intention of drinking/smoking/shagging while doing as much damage to the venue as possible.
Now while I have attended parties that have transcended into this – the host certainly didn’t start off with the intention of ruining their property.
What makes the story even better is that the girl advertised the party on MYSPACE – basically inviting anyone, anywhere to come round to her home and break some valuables.
If I ever went to one of these parties, I could see myself taking the flat screen TV for my own front room rather than smashing it against the wall…some would say I just am not all that fun anymore…
In the end there was over £20,000 worth of damage done after all items were broken and carpets and walls urinated/defecated upon. I wish I had been there when her parents arrived home and she had tried to explain her way out of it. This situation would be hard to blame on the dog (although not impossible with the correct manipulation of events).
Apparently she has left home and is surprisingly no longer on speaking terms with her mum – who coincidently, wants her arrested.
Now I remember being rebellious as a teenager – but the extent of my rebellion was getting drunk at the weekends, starting smoking and I recall once telling my dad to “fuck off”. Extremely tame in comparison to Rachel Bell.
Looks like even though I’m only just in my twenties, I really am out of touch with the youth of today…
Sunday 15 April 2007
So Bored...(Part II)
Thanks very much to Mark and Cam for their reply to my text message experiment.
I was wondering Cam, if you could analyse Chris’ reply in a similar manner you did to mine? I posted it a couple of days ago, here.
Other responses I had were
“Have you been eating those orange fruit pastilles again?” – Steven D
“No more drugs for you” – Kenny M
“Whats that all about Andy?” – John L
“What the fuck Andy?” – Scott M
“What the fuck was that list?” – Peter A
“You really are bored, eh!?!?” – Hannah B
and
“Your kids names? I’m really looking forward to meeting Tankard!” – Ruth J
This blog entry has taken 2 minutes 6 seconds and has been extremely easy to write – I should get my friends to write my blogs for me more often…
I was wondering Cam, if you could analyse Chris’ reply in a similar manner you did to mine? I posted it a couple of days ago, here.
Other responses I had were
“Have you been eating those orange fruit pastilles again?” – Steven D
“No more drugs for you” – Kenny M
“Whats that all about Andy?” – John L
“What the fuck Andy?” – Scott M
“What the fuck was that list?” – Peter A
“You really are bored, eh!?!?” – Hannah B
and
“Your kids names? I’m really looking forward to meeting Tankard!” – Ruth J
This blog entry has taken 2 minutes 6 seconds and has been extremely easy to write – I should get my friends to write my blogs for me more often…
Saturday 14 April 2007
New Steve & Dave
Today's Steve & Dave
Click in the above image to see it full size
Remeber that a new Steve & Dave will be released every Saturday.
To see all the Steve & Dave's click on the underlined 'Steve & Dave' link at the bottom of this post.
Friday 13 April 2007
Sayings
On stage recently, I have been talking about the sayings that people use and just how stupid they are when looked at literally.
For instance, at school whenever sport’s day came around, the teacher would announce to the class that competing would be compulsory and it was “not the winning, but the taking part that counts.”
By that same logic anyone who knows anything about history would have to agree with me when I say – “Fuck the Swiss, at least the Nazis got into the spirit of things”…
The reason I bring the topic of sayings up is because during a conversation yesterday, someone said to me “the grass is always greener on the other side”.
Now, for me, this saying is the worst metaphor ever that is still constantly used.
The whole point of a metaphor is to make a comparison between one event (the one that is happening) to another that you can easily relate to in order to better understand the situation (the made up scenario).
I have never been interested in the colour of grass.
In fact, when I have a family and home with its own front lawn, I reckon that if I am going to be bitter, it will be because my neighbour has a BMW in his drive way and I have a Volkswagen.
Perhaps it will annoy me that he has a huge widescreen TV with surround sound while I still have the portable TV that used to be in my parents’ kitchen. I can imagine being extremely jealous when looking out the window and seeing that my neighbour’s wife is younger and better looking than mine. There are potentially millions of things that would fill me with envy before I moved to looking at the grass.
In fact, if your number one concern is how green your neighbour’s grass is – I reckon you probably have it pretty good.
Perhaps my opinions will change as I grow older. However, I am fairly confident that I will never longingly look over the fence to the garden next door and feel aggrieved at my lawn’s pitiful chlorophyll definition…
For instance, at school whenever sport’s day came around, the teacher would announce to the class that competing would be compulsory and it was “not the winning, but the taking part that counts.”
By that same logic anyone who knows anything about history would have to agree with me when I say – “Fuck the Swiss, at least the Nazis got into the spirit of things”…
The reason I bring the topic of sayings up is because during a conversation yesterday, someone said to me “the grass is always greener on the other side”.
Now, for me, this saying is the worst metaphor ever that is still constantly used.
The whole point of a metaphor is to make a comparison between one event (the one that is happening) to another that you can easily relate to in order to better understand the situation (the made up scenario).
I have never been interested in the colour of grass.
In fact, when I have a family and home with its own front lawn, I reckon that if I am going to be bitter, it will be because my neighbour has a BMW in his drive way and I have a Volkswagen.
Perhaps it will annoy me that he has a huge widescreen TV with surround sound while I still have the portable TV that used to be in my parents’ kitchen. I can imagine being extremely jealous when looking out the window and seeing that my neighbour’s wife is younger and better looking than mine. There are potentially millions of things that would fill me with envy before I moved to looking at the grass.
In fact, if your number one concern is how green your neighbour’s grass is – I reckon you probably have it pretty good.
Perhaps my opinions will change as I grow older. However, I am fairly confident that I will never longingly look over the fence to the garden next door and feel aggrieved at my lawn’s pitiful chlorophyll definition…
Thursday 12 April 2007
Talking in blogs
Following from yesterday’s post about my text message – the second text I received was from best friend and fellow blogger Chris.
I felt it was slightly scary that he replied in exactly the same way that I would have replied to receiving the text message in question. He wrote:
“Death
Margarine
Egg
Mud
Fart
Card
Is there any reason why we are saying random words?”
Now obviously, when I say that I would have replied exactly the same way – I mean I would have replied with six other random words – not the exact same words that Chris used. That would be frightening.
Perhaps it is a blog thing that causes us to think the same way. Posting every single day does change the way that you live your life.
For instance, whenever in conversation with someone or out in a social situation you are always thinking “maybe I could use this in my blog”.
In fact, I was pointing out to Chris the other day that we managed to have a conversation that was made up almost entirely out of an exchange of monologues. Essentially, we were unwittingly “talking in blogs”. Each of us were basically taking it in turns to do a 45 second spiel and then allowing the other to retort with a similar blog style reply…
What is happening to me?!
I felt it was slightly scary that he replied in exactly the same way that I would have replied to receiving the text message in question. He wrote:
“Death
Margarine
Egg
Mud
Fart
Card
Is there any reason why we are saying random words?”
Now obviously, when I say that I would have replied exactly the same way – I mean I would have replied with six other random words – not the exact same words that Chris used. That would be frightening.
Perhaps it is a blog thing that causes us to think the same way. Posting every single day does change the way that you live your life.
For instance, whenever in conversation with someone or out in a social situation you are always thinking “maybe I could use this in my blog”.
In fact, I was pointing out to Chris the other day that we managed to have a conversation that was made up almost entirely out of an exchange of monologues. Essentially, we were unwittingly “talking in blogs”. Each of us were basically taking it in turns to do a 45 second spiel and then allowing the other to retort with a similar blog style reply…
What is happening to me?!
Wednesday 11 April 2007
So bored...
I don’t think I have ever been as bored in my whole life as I was the other night.
I literally couldn’t find anything to do. I ended up sending the following text message to 20 random members of my phonebook:
“Coal
Badger
Nectarine
Tankard
Violin
Hallibut”
I think part of the reason was I wanted to see what replies I would get – although part of it was just a desperate attempt to get any reply from anyone to alleviate some of the boredom.
I’m going to post some of the replies I got as some of them really did make me laugh.
Thanks to all of you who replied to my random message, I hope you don’t mind me using your reply in this blog.
To those that didn’t reply – I have absolutely no problem of naming and shaming you as rubbish…
Andy R
Emma T
Jo M
Kirsty S
Mark N
Michael A
Molly R
Ross H
Ruth G.
The first person to get back to me was my friend Hannah, who replied:
“Shopping list?”
Leave a comment with how you would have replied (if at all) to this random text. Otherwise I shall add you to the “rubbish list”...
I literally couldn’t find anything to do. I ended up sending the following text message to 20 random members of my phonebook:
“Coal
Badger
Nectarine
Tankard
Violin
Hallibut”
I think part of the reason was I wanted to see what replies I would get – although part of it was just a desperate attempt to get any reply from anyone to alleviate some of the boredom.
I’m going to post some of the replies I got as some of them really did make me laugh.
Thanks to all of you who replied to my random message, I hope you don’t mind me using your reply in this blog.
To those that didn’t reply – I have absolutely no problem of naming and shaming you as rubbish…
Andy R
Emma T
Jo M
Kirsty S
Mark N
Michael A
Molly R
Ross H
Ruth G.
The first person to get back to me was my friend Hannah, who replied:
“Shopping list?”
Leave a comment with how you would have replied (if at all) to this random text. Otherwise I shall add you to the “rubbish list”...
Tuesday 10 April 2007
5-a-side football
Every Monday I play five-a-side football with a bunch of guys down at the local pitches.
This may surprise some of you, as:
a) I haven’t mentioned this before, and
b) Football seems a bit too exertive for me.
To clear this up, the rest of my Mondays have all been exciting enough that a game of football with the same 9 guys every week wasn’t the most exhilarating thing that I did that day…it turns out, however, this Monday, it was. As a result, it is the only thing I have to write about.
And secondly, as far as the question of my fitness goes, I play in goals. I like to think this is because I am good at it, as opposed to just being lazy.
Perhaps the reason I am good at it, is because I am lazy.
It perhaps is a sort of natural self-defence mechanism. Such as a tortoise has a shell to protect itself as it is not very fast, I am good in goals so I don’t have to play outfield and exert myself too much.
Yesterday, however, I decided to play half the game as an outfielder.
I’m now too tired to even complete this post.
This may surprise some of you, as:
a) I haven’t mentioned this before, and
b) Football seems a bit too exertive for me.
To clear this up, the rest of my Mondays have all been exciting enough that a game of football with the same 9 guys every week wasn’t the most exhilarating thing that I did that day…it turns out, however, this Monday, it was. As a result, it is the only thing I have to write about.
And secondly, as far as the question of my fitness goes, I play in goals. I like to think this is because I am good at it, as opposed to just being lazy.
Perhaps the reason I am good at it, is because I am lazy.
It perhaps is a sort of natural self-defence mechanism. Such as a tortoise has a shell to protect itself as it is not very fast, I am good in goals so I don’t have to play outfield and exert myself too much.
Yesterday, however, I decided to play half the game as an outfielder.
I’m now too tired to even complete this post.
Monday 9 April 2007
Watching the Masters
Last night, I watched the U.S. Masters on the BBC.
I have been a fan of golf for some time, being quite a competent player when I was younger, however, I haven’t played in about 3 years now, owing to the fact that I can no longer afford membership fees. I consider this a real shame.
Other sports that I am particularly fond of are snooker and darts.
Yes, all my favourite sports can be played while drinking and smoking.
However, golf had the advantage of being the only sport you can play outside and pretend that you are getting some exercise while also powering your way through cigarettes and alcohol (well I say ‘only’, there’s obviously the high-jump).
To spice up all the major golfing events, I tend to put a few quid on some of my favourite players at the bookies. This year, my selections weren’t doing too well at all, with the exception of Rory Sabbatini.
On the final day, he was playing pretty well and managed to get into the clubhouse with a final score of +3. At the time, this was the best score of any player that had completed the tournament.
There was however one player, Zach Johnson, still on the course at +1, and with every shot he hit I was hoping against hope that the ball went in the water/behind a tree/in a bunker, basically anything that meant he could throw away a two shot lead in 3 holes.
When I look back at this incident, I realise that I wanted some young American man to ruin the biggest moment of his entire life so that I could win £32…
I’m a bastard, ain’t I?...
I have been a fan of golf for some time, being quite a competent player when I was younger, however, I haven’t played in about 3 years now, owing to the fact that I can no longer afford membership fees. I consider this a real shame.
Other sports that I am particularly fond of are snooker and darts.
Yes, all my favourite sports can be played while drinking and smoking.
However, golf had the advantage of being the only sport you can play outside and pretend that you are getting some exercise while also powering your way through cigarettes and alcohol (well I say ‘only’, there’s obviously the high-jump).
To spice up all the major golfing events, I tend to put a few quid on some of my favourite players at the bookies. This year, my selections weren’t doing too well at all, with the exception of Rory Sabbatini.
On the final day, he was playing pretty well and managed to get into the clubhouse with a final score of +3. At the time, this was the best score of any player that had completed the tournament.
There was however one player, Zach Johnson, still on the course at +1, and with every shot he hit I was hoping against hope that the ball went in the water/behind a tree/in a bunker, basically anything that meant he could throw away a two shot lead in 3 holes.
When I look back at this incident, I realise that I wanted some young American man to ruin the biggest moment of his entire life so that I could win £32…
I’m a bastard, ain’t I?...
Sunday 8 April 2007
Comedy At The State
Last night I went to the relaunch of the comedy gig at The State Bar on Holland Street.
It is basically the same set-up as before (ie. a comedy gig in the basement room), however it is now very inventively named 'Comedy At The State'. Wonder how long it took to come up with that?
The reason for this relaunch is that the comedy night's previous organiser, Fran Healey (no, not the guy from Travis) is away off now to play some absolute bitch in River City (yes...River City, who the fuck needs Travis when you have that!)
Obviously I want to wish Fran the best of luck in her new role (she must be a good actress as she is one of the nicest women I know, playing one of the most horrible characters I've ever seen).
Anyway, the crowd last night was small, but they enjoyed the various acts on offer and the whole night can be deemed a success (I was quite glad I wasn't on in front of such a lovely small crowd as no doubt I would not have left the stage until I had offended each and every one of them...if you're like me, this would hav been very entertaining...yet probably not appropriate at what turned out to be such a friendly show).
If you live in Glasgow, there's comedy at The State Bar every Saturday night from around 8.30pm, I think it's a fiver and its certainly worth the money.
If you want to catch me there - I'll be playing The State on the 12th May and 23rd June.
It is basically the same set-up as before (ie. a comedy gig in the basement room), however it is now very inventively named 'Comedy At The State'. Wonder how long it took to come up with that?
The reason for this relaunch is that the comedy night's previous organiser, Fran Healey (no, not the guy from Travis) is away off now to play some absolute bitch in River City (yes...River City, who the fuck needs Travis when you have that!)
Obviously I want to wish Fran the best of luck in her new role (she must be a good actress as she is one of the nicest women I know, playing one of the most horrible characters I've ever seen).
Anyway, the crowd last night was small, but they enjoyed the various acts on offer and the whole night can be deemed a success (I was quite glad I wasn't on in front of such a lovely small crowd as no doubt I would not have left the stage until I had offended each and every one of them...if you're like me, this would hav been very entertaining...yet probably not appropriate at what turned out to be such a friendly show).
If you live in Glasgow, there's comedy at The State Bar every Saturday night from around 8.30pm, I think it's a fiver and its certainly worth the money.
If you want to catch me there - I'll be playing The State on the 12th May and 23rd June.
Saturday 7 April 2007
New Steve & Dave
Today's Steve & Dave,
Click on the above image to see it full size.
The reason Dave is late will be revealed in next week's strip - so check back!
To see all the Steve & Dave's click on the underlined 'Steve & Dave' link at the bottom of this post.
Friday 6 April 2007
Plays - How cultured...
Today I went to The Oran Mor with my friend Hannah to see a play (my God aren’t we just so cultured)…obviously the play wasn’t the only reason I went – there was also a pie and a pint involved. Fuck it; if they throw in a couple of cigars I might even consider the opera.
The play we went to see, was entitled Metrosexual and was written by a friend of mine, Sandy Nelson. I really enjoyed it and if you get the chance to catch it – you really should.
After the play finished, Hannah & I were sat outside in the beer garden, when a Big Issue seller came round the tables looking for some business.
No one felt generous enough to purchase a copy, but everyone was friendly enough to indulge him in some chat. The best of which occurred at the table across from us where there was a large group that had left their shopping and bags on the seats at the table behind them.
The Big Issue guy then advised them not to leave their stuff there as some unscrupulous deviant may decide to procure it for themselves*.
The whole situation struck me as very amusing. I am certain no one else in the vicinity thought for a second that their bags were in danger; however this guy (clearly a seasoned pro when it comes to bag thievery) started warning everyone.
Perhaps this was because he had now turned over a new leaf and didn’t want people getting their goods stolen – or perhaps he didn’t want his bag thieving competitors to benefit from the easy targets he couldn’t touch as he was selling magazines.
I’m sure either is possible, however due to prejudice I’d like to think it’s the latter – it makes a funnier story.
*I think his actual words were “Dinnae leave that shite there, some fucker will be aff wi’ it.”
The play we went to see, was entitled Metrosexual and was written by a friend of mine, Sandy Nelson. I really enjoyed it and if you get the chance to catch it – you really should.
After the play finished, Hannah & I were sat outside in the beer garden, when a Big Issue seller came round the tables looking for some business.
No one felt generous enough to purchase a copy, but everyone was friendly enough to indulge him in some chat. The best of which occurred at the table across from us where there was a large group that had left their shopping and bags on the seats at the table behind them.
The Big Issue guy then advised them not to leave their stuff there as some unscrupulous deviant may decide to procure it for themselves*.
The whole situation struck me as very amusing. I am certain no one else in the vicinity thought for a second that their bags were in danger; however this guy (clearly a seasoned pro when it comes to bag thievery) started warning everyone.
Perhaps this was because he had now turned over a new leaf and didn’t want people getting their goods stolen – or perhaps he didn’t want his bag thieving competitors to benefit from the easy targets he couldn’t touch as he was selling magazines.
I’m sure either is possible, however due to prejudice I’d like to think it’s the latter – it makes a funnier story.
*I think his actual words were “Dinnae leave that shite there, some fucker will be aff wi’ it.”
Thursday 5 April 2007
Reading the papers
I was on the train, going to a gig in Edinburgh last week. Being bit bored and with no signal on my phone to harass my friends with text messages, I found myself a copy of the Metro.
For those that don’t know – The Metro is a free “newspaper” given out on all public transport in Glasgow and Edinburgh. It is basically pretty badly written/laid out and if it had a slogan, would be:
“YESTERDAY’S NEWS (and other uninteresting stories) TODAY”
I have posted an image of the front page, which states
“Doctors: Don’t let under-21s buy drink”
That is terrible advice, how often have you gone to your GP’s for a bottle of wine?
If you’re that drunk you are trying to buy alcohol from a doctor – I reckon you shouldn’t be allowed to buy ANY more drink…whether you’re 21 or not.
For those that don’t know – The Metro is a free “newspaper” given out on all public transport in Glasgow and Edinburgh. It is basically pretty badly written/laid out and if it had a slogan, would be:
“YESTERDAY’S NEWS (and other uninteresting stories) TODAY”
I have posted an image of the front page, which states
“Doctors: Don’t let under-21s buy drink”
That is terrible advice, how often have you gone to your GP’s for a bottle of wine?
If you’re that drunk you are trying to buy alcohol from a doctor – I reckon you shouldn’t be allowed to buy ANY more drink…whether you’re 21 or not.
Wednesday 4 April 2007
A very lazy day
I was out last night for Chris’ birthday. He just turned 22 yesterday.
After a mad night, we ended up back at Chris’ flat watching a Richard Herring DVD, until Chris said he was going to the toilet and never came back downstairs. I like to think he had fallen in the bath…again…
As a result of last night, I’ve been taking today extremely easy. To my absolute delight, I awoke around 1230 to find that there were two episodes of Columbo on that haven’t yet been released on DVD (that doesn’t mean I haven’t seen them before – don’t be ridiculous!) and that took me up nicely to 5.30pm.
My plans for tonight are equally exciting (now you may read that previous sentence and mistake my genuine feeling of exhilaration as a sarcastic comment, I assure it is not) as channel 5’s Baseball is back on our screens (the ‘our’ in that sentence referring to other weird people like me that have their TV on from 1.30am til around 5am to watch a game where people try to hit a ball with a stick).
I first started watching baseball due to the strange hours that result from being a comic, where I frequently get home from a gig in the dead of night, still full of adrenaline and needing something to do.
However, it is now the case that I enjoy it so much I watch it whenever it is on. This really doesn’t help me get up in time for uni, or for work during the summer months.
I curse the damn time-zone thing this world has got going on. Maybe if God had taken his time - maybe taken 8 days instead of rushing the whole creation process in 7 - then I wouldn't have this problem and I could watch baseball at normal hours...
After a mad night, we ended up back at Chris’ flat watching a Richard Herring DVD, until Chris said he was going to the toilet and never came back downstairs. I like to think he had fallen in the bath…again…
As a result of last night, I’ve been taking today extremely easy. To my absolute delight, I awoke around 1230 to find that there were two episodes of Columbo on that haven’t yet been released on DVD (that doesn’t mean I haven’t seen them before – don’t be ridiculous!) and that took me up nicely to 5.30pm.
My plans for tonight are equally exciting (now you may read that previous sentence and mistake my genuine feeling of exhilaration as a sarcastic comment, I assure it is not) as channel 5’s Baseball is back on our screens (the ‘our’ in that sentence referring to other weird people like me that have their TV on from 1.30am til around 5am to watch a game where people try to hit a ball with a stick).
I first started watching baseball due to the strange hours that result from being a comic, where I frequently get home from a gig in the dead of night, still full of adrenaline and needing something to do.
However, it is now the case that I enjoy it so much I watch it whenever it is on. This really doesn’t help me get up in time for uni, or for work during the summer months.
I curse the damn time-zone thing this world has got going on. Maybe if God had taken his time - maybe taken 8 days instead of rushing the whole creation process in 7 - then I wouldn't have this problem and I could watch baseball at normal hours...
Tuesday 3 April 2007
Out With Spike
I have two dogs, Rocky, a one year old Border Terrier and Spike, a five year old Black Labrador.Today’s story is about Spike (pictured), I will chat about Rocky another day.
Spike is a lovely dog – a bit stupid, but so loving and friendly that in a fight, he not only wouldn’t fight back, he also wouldn’t run away for fear of offending his aggressor. He has a heart of gold.
But he is a terrible thief.
I can’t let him off the lead in a park (no matter what its size) if there are kids playing football. Spike will no doubt make a bee-line straight for them, steal the ball and burst it. At which point, the fun seems to be over, so he runs back to me on the other side of the park.
Now for a thief, this isn’t an amazing talent. If only I could teach him to steal handbags or jewellery – then I would have a potentially profitable situation that I could blame on my dog and deny all knowledge of.
Instead all I have is a shed full of footballs. All of which are burst.
Anyway, to my main story that happened the other day…
I was walking with Spike around Newlands Park in the late evening, when we came across a group of youths sitting on one of the benches, drinking cider out of plastic bottles.
Spike, being as friendly as he is, decided to go and say hello (I think he was also angling for some cider), with no reservations about approaching neds in the park.
As Spike approached, one of the females in the group got up and ran towards him, patting him and motioning all her friends over. When I arrived, she told me of her knowledge and love of dogs before proclaiming:
“I know everything about dogs. Is he a Labrador?”
I was quite surprised that she had got this correct and said that he was, to which she looked round at all her friends, quite chuffed at this display of intelligence before then saying:
“Is he a black one?”
Whatever notions had been built up about her broad general knowledge were smashed in seconds, as her pals all started shrieking with laughter and saying:
“Naw, he’s fucking pink ya daftie! Away sit in the corner Chantelle!”
It was at this point Spike and I left, wanting to get as far away as possible before humiliating the poor girl more by laughing in her face. A job that was already being done perfectly by her cider-drinking friends.
Monday 2 April 2007
A question of Etiquette
Last night, I originally intended to go to Box, for a few gins, while listening to the impeccable music played by the resident Sunday night DJ, ‘DQ’.
Instead, I ended up in The Cell in Shawlands, drinking lager and listening to something that can really only be described as “offensive noise”. It was the sort of music, played at the sort of volume that a resident of Basra might put on the CD player to block out the ambient noise of the bloody violence and chaos outside.
Now, for those that haven’t been to The Cell, it is a reasonably small club, with one room – so the music that is being played is more or less thrust upon you. However, when I went into the toilet there was rock music playing on the tiny speakers in there.
I struck up a conversation, while washing my hands, with another guy about this strange situation and the idea of just bringing a few tables and chairs into the gents and enjoying some Led Zeppelin.
Now this was obviously a hypothetical idea, there was no way we would actually do it. Don’t be ridiculous! That would be insane and unhygienic! We were merely using it as a metaphor to point out just how bad the music upstairs was.
As I finished washing my hands, my acquaintance had just finished at the urinal and asked for my name. I told him my name, at which point he replied with his, offering his hand in a friendly gesture.
Now I had a problem. Having just washed my hands, would it be rude for me to reject his hand, seeing as he had not yet been to the sink? Would it be even ruder to shake his hand and then return to the sink and wash my own again? Would he even realise why I would be refusing to shake his hand or would he think I was in some way rejecting him as a person that was beneath me?
There were far too many questions in this 'etiquette debate' that I ended up just shaking his hand and then leaving the washroom as if nothing had happened…
Well I am British and therefore would rather run the risk of contracting Leptospirosis than mildly offending a complete stranger…
Instead, I ended up in The Cell in Shawlands, drinking lager and listening to something that can really only be described as “offensive noise”. It was the sort of music, played at the sort of volume that a resident of Basra might put on the CD player to block out the ambient noise of the bloody violence and chaos outside.
Now, for those that haven’t been to The Cell, it is a reasonably small club, with one room – so the music that is being played is more or less thrust upon you. However, when I went into the toilet there was rock music playing on the tiny speakers in there.
I struck up a conversation, while washing my hands, with another guy about this strange situation and the idea of just bringing a few tables and chairs into the gents and enjoying some Led Zeppelin.
Now this was obviously a hypothetical idea, there was no way we would actually do it. Don’t be ridiculous! That would be insane and unhygienic! We were merely using it as a metaphor to point out just how bad the music upstairs was.
As I finished washing my hands, my acquaintance had just finished at the urinal and asked for my name. I told him my name, at which point he replied with his, offering his hand in a friendly gesture.
Now I had a problem. Having just washed my hands, would it be rude for me to reject his hand, seeing as he had not yet been to the sink? Would it be even ruder to shake his hand and then return to the sink and wash my own again? Would he even realise why I would be refusing to shake his hand or would he think I was in some way rejecting him as a person that was beneath me?
There were far too many questions in this 'etiquette debate' that I ended up just shaking his hand and then leaving the washroom as if nothing had happened…
Well I am British and therefore would rather run the risk of contracting Leptospirosis than mildly offending a complete stranger…
Sunday 1 April 2007
Losing Weight
Over the end of last year and into the New Year period I lost a considerable amount of weight. When I say, “I lost a considerable amount of weight”, I realise that this statement in fact needs an explanation as it is not completely accurate.
I am not a liar. I did not make this up – I just realise that this bold statement needs some clarification.
For starters, the word “considerable” needs to be examined in more depth. Does this mean 20% of my previous body-weight? Does this mean a stone? A few pounds? More than a few stone?
If truth be told – I have no idea.
I have never been one to weigh myself and therefore could not tell you my start weight, my finish weight or the amount of weight I lost. I cannot even say for definite that I actually lost any weight at all – although I did – I just can’t prove it.
Anyway, I can attribute this to the fact that I got an exercise bike at the beginning of December and got quite into using it…until one day a few weeks ago when the batteries that control the LCD screen ran out.
They are size C batteries and these can be a bit of a nuisance to get a hold of – and being as lazy as I am, I haven’t bothered going to get new ones. As a result, I haven’t used my bike in a few weeks and have undone all the good work I had previously accomplished.
If only I had bought a real bike instead, I could have cycled round to the shops to get the batteries. In fact, if only I had bought a real bike, I wouldn’t have this dilemma as it would not need batteries for an LCD screen.
Still, I’m glad I spent so much money on my exercise bike as it doubles as an excellent hat-stand…
I am not a liar. I did not make this up – I just realise that this bold statement needs some clarification.
For starters, the word “considerable” needs to be examined in more depth. Does this mean 20% of my previous body-weight? Does this mean a stone? A few pounds? More than a few stone?
If truth be told – I have no idea.
I have never been one to weigh myself and therefore could not tell you my start weight, my finish weight or the amount of weight I lost. I cannot even say for definite that I actually lost any weight at all – although I did – I just can’t prove it.
Anyway, I can attribute this to the fact that I got an exercise bike at the beginning of December and got quite into using it…until one day a few weeks ago when the batteries that control the LCD screen ran out.
They are size C batteries and these can be a bit of a nuisance to get a hold of – and being as lazy as I am, I haven’t bothered going to get new ones. As a result, I haven’t used my bike in a few weeks and have undone all the good work I had previously accomplished.
If only I had bought a real bike instead, I could have cycled round to the shops to get the batteries. In fact, if only I had bought a real bike, I wouldn’t have this dilemma as it would not need batteries for an LCD screen.
Still, I’m glad I spent so much money on my exercise bike as it doubles as an excellent hat-stand…
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