Poor Man About Town

I was watching BBC London Tonight yesterday. One article One article focussed on the cabbie being the worst job in the country. One cabbie complained about the political interference from Transport for London and how he feels hampered by this "unelected body". The interviewer obviously got messages coming in from his earpiece and he interrupted said cabbie with a non sequiter saying "...it's not as bad as being a lumberjack..." grinning with a well-oiled grin. I got the feeling that this was censorship, a cak handed attempt to shut the guy up, as soon as the cabbie attempted to respond the item ended. What the fuck is going on? Does Transport for London have control over the BBC over the content of the items on its said body. This was not new, Nick Ferrari on LBC had a topic about how bad the driving is on London's buses - many serious contributions - then Nick Ferrari read out a statement that Transport for London have only received 30 000 to 30 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 bus journeys it does each day. Then the discussion degenerated into something quite frivolous. TFL happen to advertise on LBC . I happen to travel on its buses and I maintain that it is a rather dangerous activity. How the fuck is this organisation going to deliver a decent transport system for the Olympic Games, when, in my opinion, it can't even manage a kiddies merry-go-around in a fun fair.

Labels: BBC London, Grumble, transport for london

I find it absolutely hilarious that some flights provide televisual entertainment - what we get is absolute crap. I remember flying out to Greece on my hols and the airline provided back-to-back Parkinson at the princely sum of a fiver, for that you are loaned headphones. Having said that, I could see the fayre on display and it was Michael Parkinson! interviewing the usual suspects - Dame Edna Everidge, Rod Stewart, Maggie Smith etc. I had a bet with myself, wagering a million pounds that Billy Connoly would come next. Yep, he did. I guessed that he went through the same old stuff as he did in 1974 with a handful of updates. It dawned on me that trashy television is not so much supplied for broadcast but for in-flight entertainment. Looking around at my fellow passengers no one had rented a set of head phones. I bought a whisky miniature at 8 fucking euros!

Labels: Entertainment

I poured myself a nice glass of Glenfiddich tonight. I put it on the bedside table for a few minutes, picked up the glass. Felt something against my upper lip - I don't remember putting a roll up butt in the glass. Nope, it was a fucking cockroach stuck up against my lip, I spat the thing out, noted that its movements were quite erratic, moving around in chaotic circles. I had the intention of stamping on the bugger, but decided to leave it alone. Gosh, this life is shit.

ASDA no longer plays that dickhead Deejay over the Tannoy, thank goodness - instead we have the usual kind of supermarket muzak. I bought one of those MP3 adapter that you stick in your cassette player of your car. I attached my MP3 player to it and was quite pleased with the results - no cassette fugginness, all crystal clear sound. I am so pleased that I can access my record collection via this means. This has to be the most positive aspects of the new technology.

I hate going into packed supermarkets. What an earth possesses a person behind a supermarket trolley - their attitude leaves a lot to be desired "got out of my fucking way before I mow you over with this half a ton of my shopping". Not only that, they become so incredibly rude. On saturday, I was helping myself to some croissants; this middle aged / middle class woman was glaring at me - it was as if I was as if I was taking hours and that I would not leave any croissants for her. I only took around thirty seconds. Handed the tongs to her, she did not say "thank you", so said it for her, to which she replied a thank you. Bloody hell, where the fuck have all the manners gone. It's like we are behaving like chimps in the jungle.

Central London has become a nightmare - it is thronged with people, there is so little pavement space, so little legroom. So many people of Eastern Europe origin speaking in languages that sound like faulty power tools.

Fucking hell, is there nowhere sacred from these self-important buggers. ASDA have taken to employing a deejay who pipes crap music throughout all of its stores. Not only are we subject to the likes of Justin Timberlake, but some wankole speech by some cretin who cannot get a proper job such as filling shelves in a supermarket. I have an MP3 player and all my music got blotted out as the shit stuff that was broadcast was designed to circumvent things like mp3 players and personal stereos. I don't know what ASDA is trying to do - trying to introduce a younger and more brainless clientelle than what it has now. Prior to this, I did not mind the place, it was cheap and cheerful, but with this Deejay it has turned into something cheap and nasty. I don't know what is worse having Coldplay piped into B & Q or having this idiot babbling away in ASDA

Labels: ASDA, babble, deejays, dj, Grumble, supermarkets

The lion has been adopted by many nations, companies, football clubs as their logo of choice. It is usually the male that is depicted on the logo.

Now let's do a reality check here. I have yet to see a documentary on tv where you see a male lion doing any actual work, he just dosses around in the scrub. Yes, the reality is that the lion is a really lazy beast. Yet this indolent bugger takes all the credit for all the hunting and hard work which the lioness puts into their relationship. She brings home the meat. Sometimes the lion just can't be arsed to wait and will snack on one of his sprogs (there's plenty more where that came from) while he waits for the missus to bring back the shopping. Even sexual intercourse seems to be such a labour, the lion has the pained expression stating "I am only doing this because nature urges me to do it and not because I get any pleasure from it" - the lioness appears to have a look is considering lesbianism as a very realistic option.

So, why the hell has the lion been used as a symbol of get up and go, virility, sexual prowess etc. Something is wrong here.

LBC keep on churning out these adverts for Galliard Homes, these ads are really getting on my nerves - all they seem to do is to conjure images in my mind of extremely greedy property developers who seem to be on the rampage for every scrap of land and every single brick in London. I have checked out the homes on offer and, in my view, they look really monstrous; the sort of confections one would find in nouveau suburbia rather than a major capital - in fact London is fast becoming just another retail park with luxury apartments thrown in for good measure. Give it another five years or so, London will lose whatever character it possesses thanks to this massive and thoughtless redevelopment of the city. Y'know the economic downturn is imminent, people are already been laid off from jobs etc. Companies like Galliard Homes are going to have an awful lot to lose when the tide comes in - that's one consolation.

When Gerald Ratner declared that he was selling crap he was expressing a sentiment that many property developers keep tightly to themselves. Let's face it, whatever they put up is complete crap and the wierd and wonderful things is that people buy it!

Labels: commercials, Greedy Property Developers, LBC, Radio