Poor Man About Town

It seems that the Albanians communicate with each other in an operatic recitative. This can take place in the early hours of the morning. These buggers have no consideration for others who are trying to sleep. They also enjoy a good bang-about in the kitchen, it sounds as if they are repairing a car down there.

Fuck Bros seems to have taken over the house. I have just seen this cartoon on BBC3, it consists of alien beings coming to earth, they are evil looking little fucks to boot. These alien beings start to fuck around with things like themmachine tools with one of them switching on the machine and the other been transformed into green blobs - this is what Fuck Bros is like - a fucking nuisance - I wonder if he is here courtesy of the Home Office and DSS - Oh fuck. I have to wear earplugs thanks to this little shit.

11.10pm Fuck Bros is relatively quiet tonight, I am not going to hold my breath - Grolly God has yet to come in.

It's nearly 12 and Grolly God has just arrived and Fuck Bros has just put on his music. It seems that they are chatting. Oh fuck, here come the recitatives as well as the Eastern sounding music. Oh fuck, the volume goes up and down. It's time for the earplugs. Bastards, why don't they fuck off. The earplugs can get quite painful.

Why do these buggers want to disturb my peace - am I being paranoid when I think "is it because I am English?"

The Sun shines on Blunkett and Blair. The recent crap on is seen by The Sun as completely scandalous and full of lies (that's rich considering the splendid job they are doing on David Beckham!). I read this extremely sycophantic editorial towards the Government - the editorial made mention of an enquiry (hosted by a glove puppet, no doubt). It emphasised that it would be a public enquiry and therefore honest as the day is long. The editorial offered a bowing and scraping praise for Blunkett for having the guts and integrity at offering to have an enquiry. The Sun is out to mobilise its plebian readership to vote for Blair as it did for Thatcher (do you recall the days when Trade Unions at Labour Party Conference used to vote its membership to determine Labour Party policy, this pissed a lot of people off, well having The Sun in your pocket is like getting a huge block vote). Yes, this is the age of power politics - The Sun reports its line as a form of catechism with the expectation that it is repeated in the pub, the workplace and in front of the telly. The Sun has an awful lot of power in the form of its block vote and it came to pass that New Labour policy was written by the Sun and it was happen and smiled and shone upon the Earth.

Fuck Bros is playing his music really loud. It's a real bloody annoyance, it looks like that there are too many Albanians in this house, I feel outnumbered I shall have to find somewhere else to stay - I now dub this house 'The Albanian Embassy'. The music is so bad, I can hear it through my earplugs.

In post femenist Britain, we have the resurrection of the Housewife (that great protector of the Home, Family-Life, Kitchen, Children and Church). M & S is using the housewife as a vehicle to advertise shopping at Christmas. The basis of this radio ad shows a puffed out woman, apparently content with her slavish lot, cooking for her family, nurturing the kids, providing sexual relief for her man and all that bullshit. After all that crap "mum puts her feet up". Sainsbury's do a similar ad, these ads are so cringe-making. Yeah, I'm all for femenism, I'm all for them creating mayhem in the current order, especially when ads like this are allowed to be broadcast.

I was watching the 'Peoples' Century' on UK History. Programme on African Independence - Nkrumah and Ghana, he was busting everyone left, right and centre for speaking out against his regime. This was not far removed from the current situation in the UK, plans seem to be afoot to shut up the press (and then us) "People were arrested for speaking out against the government, they weren't told why they were arrested" This was happening in Ghana in the 50's and it could happen now in the UK.

C insisted on going to Covent Garden, I did not want to go. C insisted on going - she won. It's a massive tourist trap. It exists solely for the tourist. The shops are only rehashes of the shops found in a shopping mall. I noticed one shop called Sheactive - she swims, she walks etc; it was flogging goods for women, but said goods could be easily found in Millets, the customer were not so much buying the goods but buying into the product - the shopping bag. Then we have the licenced buskers who turn the classics into muzack - a string quartet player crap such as Bocherini, yes we are sophisticated!. Then there are the gold and silver statues, who do nothing apart from stand on a box and just be. One of these bods started to use a swizzle (the thing that is used to make Punch's voice in Punch and Judy) . I noticed that somebody was flogging these things to the public. The result was that every single one of these montrosities was swizzling away with gay abandon. Each silver and gold statue was attempting to outswizzle the other - it was quite pathetic. This scene was made all the more pathetic when one of these gold painted bods became quite disconcerted when someone rung the bell on his bicycle. A rather pathetic irony crossed my mind - gold and silver attracting brown coins.

Then we have the rickshaw drivers - what a bunch of merchants they are - I noticed that they caused much blockage for our bus and the others behind while these idiots were waiting for fares outside Hamleys. Bastards!

Now we come to something quite laughable, as I was returning home, the traffic was murder around London Bridge, it was complete crap. It's all the road works due to the carte blanche property development in the area. The entire city is being vandalised. Property developers priming the city for rickshaw drivers and idiots painted in gold and silver pretending to be artistic.

The whole shebang will be physically serviced by Albanian illegal immigrants who will work for a pittance to send a few brown coins home to feed and provide television for an entire village.

Speaking of Albanians, they woke me up at almost three this morning. It is as if they converse as if they are in singing in an opera - they're bloody noisy.

It was murder returning home from work tonight, there were so many people barging around in their tin boxes, ignoring traffic lights and blocking up box junctions, fucking bastards. They all seem to be celebrating Christmas with attitude. There are lot more cars on the road with Eastern European number plates, the Eastern Hordes are descending upon us, argggghhh! This is one of the reasons why house prices are rocketing, greedy property developers and estate agents are flogging them to the nouveau riche Eastern Europeans - they are swarming in with with a vengance. I guess that most are coming in from mountain regions where electric light is very rare. Television, a must have necessity, must be powered by a water wheel in the nearby river. When the Spanish invaded South America it was seen as the Empire of Gold, the UK to Eastern European Eyes must be seen as likewise. I don't really want to write this shit, but I have seen so much crap that I need to get it off my chest.

Fuck Bros and one of his pals are yapping in the early hours of this morning - kept me awake with that nostropovitch language. All thanks to the west for undermining the politicial systems in Europe and opening up its frontiers to these very noisy buggers. Fuck Bros plays this pop music with modal keys, he plays the music loud and with the door open to his room. I hope that I can get to sleep tonight.

The guy downstairs is doing his laundry by hand and late at night at that!. Loud Albanian language goes throughout the house as well as the steam from his laundry which he boils on the gas cooker. and its existence is designed to keep me awake and disturb my peace. Why can't the bugger take his laundry to the launderette. I guess that it is peasant in him having the desire wash his clothes in the river. In addition to all this, there is a great deal of traffic to the bog tonight. Here is the rich bit, the house is quiet when I have to leave for work in the morning; all the buggers are asleep.

I was watching this programme on New York(BBC4), one commentator pointed out how the entertainment giants have muscled in on the theatre. Small producers have shut up shop - the consquence has been that many big theatres have closed down and lie derelict. Money is talking the language of destruction. One is led to wonder whether people will get anything adventurous or daring in future or will they be fed the usual diet of bread and circuses.

The orgy of Christmas ads has started in earnest. Fucking hell, Santas abound, trying flog us this and flog us that. Santa used to give nice things away, not try to flog us a Lexus! It's quite obscene and ugly really.

Labels: Advertising

There used to be this hardware shop in Greenwich which sold everything imaginable for the house. It's outside display was a fascinating display of household goods, kiddy toys, gardening equipment etc. It was a landmark that added colour to the area, not any more, it's disappeared from the face of the Earth. It has been replaced by an organic restaurant. I went in there to buy a sandwich, a pleasant piped smell (yes, they do this now) wafted through the entire shop. There was bread and oils on sale. The decor could only be described as 'flatpack rusticity'. The place was hardly a cafe, it was more like a studio set for one of those dreadful lifestyle programmes on tv. What got me was the price of the sandwiches, they cost £5+ . I'm not paying that kind of money for two slices of organic bread with some organic filling. You can feed a family of four for a fortnight on that kind of money. I left.

London is being refurbished on quite a grand scale, money is muscling in and muscling out the less well off. This is Blair's Britain giving licence to the rich to do what they fucking like with the environment, community and culture.

Labels: Lifestyle

There this advert on the TV, female Geordie voiceover (Big Brother has a lot to answer for! - Newcastle must be exporting its accents due to fucking silly programme) - the ad was advertising nappies. Gosh! It was cringmaking shit. Irritating shit at that. What is about these adverts when some smug voice comes appealing to all that is conventional - the 2.4 kids, SUV-owning family - it seems that their only raison d'etre is to consume and waste, consume and waste...You can see them in shopping malls like Bluewater burdened with crisp, shiny, cardboard bags filled to the brim with shopping from different stores. The bags may as well contain old newspaper for the actual gratification that they bring. The people who buy into this must be incredibly shallow that they need to fill up their incredibly empty tracts of life with shopping. What is even more amazing is that they want these shit-machines called babies as wel, who will pollute the world with their discarded nappies.

Labels: Lifestyle

I have been nursing a hangover all day long. I feel tired. Drank too much the previous night; this was due to my going out boozing with J, we drank beer, lager and Chablis. Gosh, I feel like shit.

There is this advert on LBC which comes on with irritating regularity. It is flogging shares in flats or apartments (property developers like to call them these days). The advert has the tone of “Zapow! Earn millions, billions, zillions, all for a measly mangy outlay of £175 000” Greedy fuckers - such adverts invite people commit the deadly sin of avarice - it’s barefaced capitalism that lays the countryside and community to waste. Fucking greedy grasping gits!

I do not know whether it is Fuck Bros or Grolly God, but I heard hoovering outside my room at 11.30pm. Grolly God did it around 2.00 one morning. I checked through the keyhole, it was Grolly God!. He must be high on cocaine on her something, hence his persistent need to clear his nostrels and throat.

Some woman was shouting and blackguarding at the new tenant, Albanian - I call him the Fuck Bros for the simple reason that he makes as much noise as two or three of his fellow country men, which is no mean feat. This woman told him to "fuck off" repeatedly. I guess Fuck Bros wanted to have sex with her but she did not want to know.

What the fuck is this programme about?. Indian family interviewing celebs - it's fucking boring - has a supermarket row's worth of canned laughter, the laughter is targetted at the most unfunny bits. The format of the show: Indian Family making shit jokes about the celebs they have invited to come and babble. I can't believe people tune into this crap week after week.

Labels: Television