Lions and Tigers and Bears! Oh, My !

Okay, someone, anyone, please click on this link and tell me that I haven't dreamt this whole thing up. Clearly, I must be imagining things. Christ almighty, that trip to Holland must have really effed with my head...

More piccies here, BTW...

When hell is full, the stupid shall walk the earth!

What is the point of some people? Should the UK introduce a caste system based on IQ?

Hell yeah!

1-60 = Salt Mines

61-100 = Shelf Stacker

100-123 = Whatever you have made of yourself - well done!

124(+-5 depending on alcohol) = Poker Player

125-140 - Uncle Mex and cronies

140+ = The People who should be in control

For too long greedy men have ruled this world as stumbling demented child-kings long enough! And as this empire crumbles, my precious upper caste shall rise as they're most fitting successor!

Honestly who would you prefer an unctuous politician who has wormed his way into power with the usual trail of sexual scandals and financial misdoings waiting to be revealed or people who have a FUCKING CLUE PEOPLE!

Power corrupts? No it only enables. You were corrupt to begin with.

T' Polis

******* ********* *** *** ***** ******!

Actually no. More power to the Police.

How many times can the Police arrest someone and then arrest them again weeks later as the £? fine hasn't stopped the thief or druggie or Jakie who will happily steal to pay for their fine and next fix.

Remedy? Well funny you should ask..and indeed .

Kick the utter shit out of them.

Fines don't work, Jail doesn't work but I bet you that they would think twice if they have had a severe kicking.

"Haw Shifty" (his brain would scream to itself) "mind last time you nicked those Fusion blades? You couldn't piss without blood coming out...hmm? Maybe you should consider shelf stacking?"

Hopefully after the third time they wouldn't be able to think any more and off to the salt mines they go.

Failing all this the 6x6ft Iso Cube of Judge Dredd is my second option.

Leave you with some happy thoughts;

What's shakin', Bub? (or is it Bob ???)

At 100,000 years, we're not just here for the nasty things in life. Like patronizing the mentally challenged, insulting the world's young folk, slagging off those seal clubbin' Norwegians or even showing gratuitous pictures of good ole Captain Amerikkka "wank"ing...

Oh, no, we can do "nice" as well as anyone. I think. Hmm, I don't know, a gaggle of young Korean lassies singing the theme to "Bubble Bobble" ? Does that count as "nice" ???

How sweet to be an idiot.

Growing up I'm sure that you too had an idiot in your gang or group of friends,(quite hard for me as my friends were all in the chess club with me :) ) but weren't they the happiest of the group?

Ignorance it seems is bliss, intelligent people have so much to worry about simply because they are so aware of things around them, idiots blunder through life and somehow have a shield that protects them from the horrors of modern life. A drunk jacket for the low IQ.

Ignorance of the other kind - not considering other people is one of the few things that will get my dander up such as the moron this morning...

I live in a tower and the description of vertical street is apt as someone who didn't even live here sat in his scrappage candidate crapsmobile blasting out his tunes. Seven flights up it irritated the hell out of me, grudd help those lower down.

What surprised me was the fact his music was very loud....UB40?!? I thought all UB40 fans had died out as there were no breeding stock after '89?

It's like a gag from a rocket scientist...female rocket scientists are rare and hunted to near extinction.

Seriously considering jamming a crayon up my nose like Homer to drop out of having to be a considerate human being. well as much as I can call myself such.

Limited Sympathy

No it's not the band name of one of Uncle Mex's Dutch Electro-pop outfits nor one of those emo pish groups so frequently featured on Kerrang!...I sat with it on all day and the ratio was - Pish 98% Adverts for pish 2%. My brother Danny would turn in his grave... if he were dead.

No the title refers to my recent bugbear, Advertising. Hammond has just been on tv advertising Morrisons butcher counter - The soundbite towards the end says they'll help you find the right cut...oh for the want of a consonant.

After his accident he was the public darling but now I reckon that the Hierarchy of Top Gear is (and remember all those muppets clamouring for Clarkson to be London Mayor) is May, Clarkson and a distant 3rd place for the Hamster.

May, whose rightful catchphrase is "as you'd expect I'd done this properly" is a man who knows the value of a Shed, all great inventions came from men in sheds and he has a deep respect for history and engineering - truely a man's man.

Also on the no sympathy front are the bimbo supreme (Joint winners again this year) Price and Katona. Have it all then manage to turn public opinion against yourself.

I have to give some sympathy to my neighbour, 2 mins before the end of the Celtic - Hearts game and I turn the radio off once again disappointed by yet another lacklustre performance only to be startled by animalistic screaming - I kid you not we are talking primal rage bellowing to an uncaring sky.

Yeah he's a Rangers fan. I take little joy from the 2-1 result as I worry about the fact I have such a fuckwit living near to me and mine.

So there are some ill formed thoughts from me, Rick? your turn!

I'm (not) worth a million in prizes...

Brrr, it's awfy cold in here. Jeepers, posts on this blog are as rare as Accies home wins versus Hibs. Oh, guess that's my cue, then...

Watched the Mercury Music Prize coverage on Beeb Two last week. Not a great selection this year, it has to be said. Or any other bloody year for that matter. Still, I do like that La Roux elpee - it has taken a bit of a caning for being a putative reprise of yon early eighties synthtastic business such as Yazoo and the Human League but it sounds to the big man here much more like the classic burbly, bleepy, beauty of Yamaha AY-8192 8-bit chip music goodness as made by the sainted Follin, Whittaker and Jochen Hippo Hippel...

Anyways, I digress. I hate the fucking Mercury Music Prize. What offends me here about that, the Oscars, the Emmys, the Grammys and any other cringe-making, toe-curling luvvie jolly up is the notion of snooty wanker powered, panel-based prize giving in general. I don't mean the kind of thing for sportsmen, or folk who have earned a direct reward for some quantifiable achievement like winning a grand prix or the British Open or the friggin' Derby or summat. No, what I mean is the back-slapping horseshit served up by judging panels of industry "experts" who get to tell us what we should think about who was the best director, what was the best movie, what was the best album and who has the nicest tits. (shurely shome mishtake - ed)

Who the fuck are these people ? And what gives them the brass balls to think that they have any more insight into the picking of random winners in arbitrary categories than the great unwashed who actually buy (erm...) all the shit ? It wouldn't be quite as bad if the winning selection was based on straight, unbiased opinion. The reality is that practically every award in popular culture is pre-filtered through an ugly stew of favouritism, trend pandering, and a billion sundry hidden agendas...

The choice of Mercury winner this year was emblematic, a heady cocktail of insipid, coffee table hip-hop destined to soundtrack a million white, thirty-something, middle class lives for one year only until consigned to the landfill with all the previous year's detritus. Nae harm to the lassie herself, mind, it's not her fault, it's the corporate suits deciding that it's her turn to get the golden finger (erm...) while the rest get the shaft. Bah, ball-less, soulless, suckers of Satan's cock each and every last fucking one of them.

Anyhoo, here's some "nice" music that won't be winning any Mercury Music prize this or any other year. Yes, I know it sounds like a scalded cat lurching violently across a hideously scratched BBC Radiophonic Workshop elpee, but I like that kind of thing, alright ?

They'll be crying on the streets of Skopje tonight...

Just a short one ahead of Schottland's game versus Macedonia this afternoon. The news that the blessed Faddy is in the starting line-up has given me a wee lift, as has the fact that the weather in Glesga is reassuringly piss-awful. Yup, dull, dour, dreich, and generally very Scottish, here's hoping it'll give the dark-blue warriors a wee bit more of a home advantage as we slalom our way to a glorious victory and are finally rampant on the road to Soot Effrikkka. I fucking wish. At least G. Caldwell isnae playing so we aren't already looking at clawing back from being an own goal down and could well finish with all eleven men on the park...

Anyhoo, I fancy it to be either 1-0 or 2-1 to the bravehearts, no gubbing on the horizon. Though, one way or t'other, I, personally, will be getting absolutely hammered...

Update : At the age of 33, Alexander of Macedonia cried salt tears because his team had just been reamed by the Scots. James McFadden is only 26...

Update II : At the age of *mumble mumble*, Mexy of Massivedongia cried salt tears because his team had just been pumped by the crazschy Dutsch. Uncle Mex is only 26 (okay, okay, give or take a feckin' decade, cheeky bastiches)...

(with due respect to the original from Lord Sidney of Waddell)