Sunday, 30 November 2008

A Word on Woolworths

Should established high street tat-sellers Woolworths expire in the coming weeks I will bow my head in sadness. As a boy I remember when my Mum got a job in the cafe and after school going for a doughnut and a coke while I waited for her to finish her shift. It was a shop that had everything, sadly though it was always a place where everything was available elsewhere and better. Still she worked several years in that cafe until she moved to management level in another store and eventually when I reached sixteen I worked for two and a half years part-time at my local. The pay was crap but I look back on my time there fondly.

A routine shift would be to turn up late, have a quick drink, then have a natter with the boss (who was a Liverpool fan which meant he was very lenient with me), then stack a few shelves and wander around chatting to various people. It was a gloriously simple job and such was the size of the place you could just disappear for three hours and nobody would ask where you were. I wasn't a great employee but the only thing I ever stole was time and when I was actually working, I worked hard.

My work ethic has since improved since becoming management myself in another company and I can't say as I really left Woolies having learned or acquired anything useful. I'm sure the world will not miss Woolworths that much and as a consumer I won't either. But just because something's useless doesn't mean it should no longer exist. Just look at wasps, what do they do?

Wednesday, 26 November 2008

Since Jonathan Ross isn't doing much...

I've been a semi-busy bee over the Autumn, slaving away in the cinema watching and reviewing films. It's a part-time job and it doesn't pay at all (last months wage was -£24.98 including refreshments) but it's one I greatly enjoy, even if my level of skill is average at best.

Looking back at my earlier reviews of films they all seem to contain some type of reference or comparison with food and are about as structurally sound as a blancmange (see there I go again) but my thinking is the more reviews I write the better thought out they will become and also the more enjoyable they will be to read and then once I claim Jonathon Ross left me a voicemail of Russell Brand shagging my cat I shall weave my way into the Film 2009 hotseat where I'll get to show disdain for blockbusters and marvel over Cate Blanchett's blank face (she looks like the Oscar statue's mother)

Until then my website is now updated with several reviews of films that are either still just about out or have been and gone including:-





So that's my little bit of whoring done for the day, time for a nap...


Oh no wait just another slice of whore for you

Thursday, 20 November 2008

Being Monte Barrett & Ultimate Fighting

Your opponent is younger, faster, more popular, charismatic and has his home crowd behind him. Put yourself in boxer Monte Barrett's gloves for a second. Now as you enter the ring you'll have 50 Cent blaring, a look on your face like the ice cream had fallen off of your cone and a purposeful stride. But that alone is not enough to phase your rival and silence the fans. That's when Monte Barrett must've thought to himself 'I'm gonna try something..'

He tried to shrug it off like he meant to do it but we all know and he too knows that it didn't turn out like he imagined...

Staying on the subject of pay-per-view violence: UFC stands for ultimate fighting championship. Not boxing, fencing, kickboxing, no, ultimate fighting. It comes across like fighting you can't even imagine, the ring is shaped like an octagon and you can't really get out until you've had your face smashed in or smashed somebody elses. It's like putting two mice in the same cage and leaving one crumb. Add to that the mice don't like each other and only one gets to leave conscious. Let's cast an eye over last Saturday's heavyweight clash between Randy 'looks he's killed before' Couture and Brock 'dude, where's my neck?' Lesnar.

And yet there's something about UFC that just passes me by. You go through the hype and the suspense and 99 times out of 100 the end result looks like two brothers fighting over the remote control. They grapple and unconvincingly tap each other until one of them goes too far and clocks one properly at which point Mum comes in and sends him off to his room. I want UFC to represent something grander, something unruly where the gloves are on fire or they're both given a choice of kitchen utensils and we get to see eye gouging with salad tongs or a meat hammer to the balls. Even a spatula to the face would suffice. Call me inhumane if you like but from my perspective as a child that was what my imagination considered ultimate fighting to be. I don't hate the sport; I'd just prefer a name change that was a little less extreme and a little more realistic. Having said that why the fuck is boxing called boxing?

Thursday, 6 November 2008

The hamster is dead, long live the gerbil!

Last week marked the sad and tragic passing of our house hamster Xabi Alonso. Named after Liverpool's midfield genius he was almost two years old and died of enforced hibernation. I remember the day we got him, he was actually an inconvenience to me at the time since I'd made plans with my then-girlfriend for the day and it was decided we had to go buy a pet instead. So she drove us there and I kept one eye on the animals and another on the clouds, as I prayed for sunshine for our romantic retreat. Rich liked this Syrian hamster and well I thought he was alright. Over time though I grew to love him, he was one of the guys, we would leave the TV on Babestation for him overnight and also he would climb around his cage like a furry Jackie Chan. His favourite things were cucumber and the female anatomy, but not the two combined...

So after that it was decided we should get a new pet. Personally I'm not a fan of replacement pets, I remember as a kid when my budgie died I was upset then the next day when we had two new budgies and I was like what the fuck? You don't rebound on a dead animal, but still we have a new pet and he's pretty cool. He's a gerbil we named Yayo and so far he's spent most of his time scared shitless in the corner of his cage, he'll take a week or two to settle in but he did seem to enjoy watching Demolition Man with Dave and I last night. But then who wouldn't? It's an action gem of the likes they just don't do make anymore.

Wednesday, 5 November 2008


For those who watched British coverage of the US election hahaha loser! Why listen to us stuffy Brits prattling on when CNN had this.

I love American news, I especially love American sports news but whilst watching CNN last night/morning I was absorbed by baffling charts, projections, holograms and a man named Wolf Blitzer. I like how British news makes sense but then again I love how excited Americans are about everything, their enthusiasm and need to vociferously debate minute details and yell at each other in a tightly confined studio. It's great entertainment. I'm pleased Barack Obama won, what I find rare in him is that no matter if it's false or not he seems humble, somebody people can look up to. He has a face you could see on a dollar bill and a when he talks he uses a hand gesture like he's seasoning food. Whether his air cheffing will obstruct his politics remains to be seen but at least he isn't Bush.