Archive for February, 2013


An explanation.

Last October, I marked the 4th anniversary edition of the Sunday Roast by reposting some older pieces which are now, unfortunately, lost in the depths of Myspace. I said, when reposting that I would make it a regular occurrence. Well, I think the time is right to do so again. Most of those posts are impossible to find on the now-useless Myspace and if you did, you’d find my pictures have been wiped by the techno-cretins who administer the thing.

Therefore, I shall keep to my promise of bringing to life once more, those roasts of the past. Or, to put it another way, I have bugger all to write about this week so decided to recycle a load of 4-year-old junk.

February 24 - Recycle Logo

The day after I hit 45 … (Originally Posted 26 October 2008)

I wrote the following pieces the day after my forty-fifth birthday. Now, what wouldn’t I give to be 45 again and not, as is currently the case, approaching a rather more daunting landmark. Looking back, I appear to have had a good time.

I had loads of nice stuff for my birthday, the most amusing being a Doctor Who, toy sonic screwdriver. Look, I am Doctor Who crazy and have been since I was a kid. They never had things like toy sonic screwdrivers in those days, I had to make do with a broken tyre pressure gauge and pretend. Still, all ends well. I have one now. The irony is, I spent over half an hour looking for a tiny screwdriver so that I could put the batteries into the sonic one.

Febriary 24 - Toy Sonic Screwdriver © Antony N Britt

Over four years later, I still have the sonic device.

Also on that birthday …

I went to see one of my favourite groups, The Stranglers at the Carling Academy in Birmingham. I go every time they are in town, which is usually once a year and I really enjoyed myself. I like to go as you never know how long they will keep going before one of them dies. It is quite amusing, however, watching a band which has been around for over thirty years and seeing the ageing audience rock the night away. It used to be that the fans all had hideous comb-overs. Now they go for the shaved look as it seems more trendy. I was there, in the mix, enjoying myself in the centre of the crowd doing the old man’s dance routine of rocking about without moving your legs. Still, I couldn’t help myself. No … you don’t understand. I really couldn’t help myself not being able to move my legs. You see, there was so much spilled beer about the place, my Dr Martens had stuck to the floor.

As the evening wore on, a crowded arena became more spacious as the majority of larger members of the audience tried to find what few seats there were in order to gasp for breath as they searched for an oxygen tank.

Still, it all went off well and even my vehicle was still there when I returned to the car park. I had unfortunately, made the mistake of leaving it in possibly the most frightening and decrepit car park I can ever remember using. However, it was cheap (for Birmingham) and it was really nice of those bums to light a bonfire next to my car so I could find it in the dark.

Bedroom Mess … (Originally posted 26 October 2008).

I got one task out of the way – The horror of cleaning the kids bedroom. This is the one my other kids who live elsewhere, stay in during the nights they are with me. Unfortunately, it had been a while since cleaning and I found some right horrors under the bed. One particular item, and I am not quite sure what it, is now in a cage and I’m feeding it.

Feb 24 - Poltergeist Clown

The possibility of what you might find underneath the bed.

Time management … (Originally posted 2 November 2008)

Arrrgggh! There is so much I want to do these days and I just haven’t got the time. And do you know why? Bloody Spider Solitaire. You know, the cheap free game which comes with windows on the PC. It is the most addictive thing I have ever played. Seven hours the other week I was bloody well on the thing. I could still see cards in my sleep. In fact, I am playing it now while typing, for Christ’s sake. King, Queen, Jack, Ten, Seven … Bugger!

Feb 24 - Spider Solitaire

Anyway, will somebody please come over to my house and remove it from my PC as soon as possible SO I CAN GET SOME FRIGGIN WORK DONE! Six, Five, Four, Ace … Damn!

Let’s abbreviate this … (Originally posted 9 November 2008)

I have been a bit down and tired this week. I found things a struggle and at times, ill as if I was coming down with something. However, it never transpired into a full illness. My nan used to talk about winter weariness and when I was young, I used to make fun of how she constantly went on about it. However, these days, I think I know what she was talking about.

At least two people have actually said to me that I may have SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder). What this basically means, in the winter months, I turn into a right miserable bastard.

What do you mean, just in the winter months?

Great. Now I have SAD on top of OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder). What is this, a case of AB (Abbreviation Syndrome)? Next thing, it’ll be POWGTW (Pissed Off With Going To Work), or even OCIBTCA (Oh Christ, I Burnt The Chips Again). I’ll shut up, before I develop BYTTS (Boring You To Tears Syndrome)

Talking about OCD, I was having a meal recently and was picked up over my peculiar habits. You know the sort of thing … like the fact you there is a method to what order you should eat things off a plate. Look, if I’ve eaten all my vegetables then find one solitary pea under my rump steak, the world will end – okay!

I never actually realised how bad my OCD was until I started talking about it. However, the stupid thing is, I deliberately start doing things which aren’t OCD, just to disprove the theory. I guess what it all boils down to is that it has taken me a number of decades to finally realise, yes, I am strange.

February 24 - CD Collection © Antony N Britt

Look, arranging your CDs in artist order, then sub-sorting them into date of release, is the only way to achieve perfect karma.

That’s all folks, for now, from the best of the Myspace Blogs.

It’s interesting for me to delve into them, if I’m honest. And a bit frightening. It’s been years since I wrote them and now reading back, I’m kind of thinking … this guys on another planet.

Feb 24 - Saturn

Cheers.

Nick

Ode to my valentine …

I felt as if a weight had been lifted off me on Thursday as this was the first Valentine’s Day since 1986 where I didn’t have to buy one. I’d like to say I didn’t receive anything, either, but the cute bear which greeted me on my doorstep will testify, otherwise.

Feb 17 - Cute Bear © Antony N Britt

There he is, warm now after shivering whilst being left in a freezing porch all night. It wouldn’t be too bad and I’d be mildly curious were it not for the fact my cleaning appeared to have been done while I was out and a note left with tips as to which items of clothing somebody thought I should no longer wear and perhaps donate to charity.

Okay, I may have made that last bit up and you will be wondering if Nick, here, has gone soft by speaking nicely about Valentine’s Day. You know, what with his views on Christmas (Bah Humbug!) and other moans. Perhaps, you are thinking, he’s a softy when it comes to matters of the heart?

Well you’d be wrong!

Valentine’s Day. Pah! Load of marketing nonsense by the retailers yet again to get us to part with money we haven’t got. February 14! Why the hell can’t every day be special if you are with somebody you love? I’m just thankful I’ve had a year off. Restaurants double their prices, chocolates are two for the price of three and shareholders in Ann Summer’s shops receive massive dividends.

Still, there are nice gifts to be had … all for the ladies, of course. Cuddly toys, sexy lingerie, perfume, jewellery, the list goes on. You go into an Ann Summer’s shop and what is on offer for men to slip seductively into?

Feb 17 - Novelty Elephant Thong

Before you ask … no, I didn’t model it.

Now some men don’t even like venturing into these shops. Never bothered me in the past, although it did usually get a little awkward when you cannot switch off one or ten vibrators which are hopping around on the shelves because you started messing with them whilst bored when your girlfriend was in the changing room trying on a nice matching two-piece set. Yes … it happened.

And even if the standard range of gifts doesn’t take your fancy, you can always dice with death and buy your loved one a deep fat fryer. In fact, all sorts of kitchen implements may suffice though I’d stay away from the knife sets.

Bath stuff … yes, that too. The girls love it. But what, apart from safari themed g-strings and the obligatory bottle of Blue Stratos, is there for men to receive?

Know what I was once given, as an example of what there is out there for us guys on Valentine’s Day?

Feb 17 - Nasal Hair Remover

A bloody nasal hair remover!

And on the Direct Gov job site this week …

7.5t driver req

Yes, Mr Tyre Ltd, is advertising for a seven and a half ton driver. Let’s hope the suspension on his vehicle will take the strain.

Prank of the Week.

This happened on an American TV network when hackers hijacked the system and broadcast a phony news report about Zombies attacking the neighborhood.

Feb 17 - Dawn of the Dead

Yes, remember that one? It was Dawn of the Dead where decaying corpses spent their days shopping for fashion accessories in the mall. And some people actually believed this was happening for real as a result of the fake broadcast and thus, called the cops.

Ridiculous, as is the prospect of brain-dead folk wandering around a shopping centre.

Having said that, I haven’t been to Westfield Merry Hill, lately.

What is Idiot Duncan Smith going on about now?

Our Welfare and Pensions Secretary was aggrieved this week when a young woman, Cait Reilly, won a landmark case which likened her working for free in Poundland, to that of being a slave. What? The audacity. Fancy her wanting money.

I agree, in principle to doing work for benefits but Poundland is a private company and they’re getting something for nothing. It wouldn’t be so bad if there was useful training and a decent job at the end of it … but Poundland!

Iain Duncan Smith says the slavery jibe was a slur and an insult to people living in oppression. Yes, that would be us under you, Iain, and the rest of your in it for themselves, Tory leeches. Insulting? What I find insulting is a millionaire politician telling people on £71 a week jobseekers allowance that they have enough to live on and they should stop moaning.

Ring any bells, Iain?

Feb 17 - Iain Duncan Smith

Iain Duncan Smith – The day he went to see how poor people live.

And similarly …

Bungling bank, RBS are to give their greedy fat cat chief another bonus.

Feb 17 - Stephen Hester

Yes, there’s Stephen Hester, waiting for his tin of Whiskers Supermeat.

Last year, public pressure forced Stephen to decline his near £1million bonus through gritted teeth. Well, he’s at it again. This time it’s only a paltry £780,000.

The bankers, they really don’t understand it. Nothing more than crooks, the lot of them. Muggers and looters, only this lot hide behind spreadsheets and a suit.

So Hester reckons he deserves his bonus while lesser paid staff at the bank have their money cut to pay for the Libor fine imposed as a result of high-ups in the bank rigging the lending rate.

Nationalise the banks and let them do what they are meant to do – provide a service for the people, not make the rich, richer.

Not such a Dappy chappy, now?

Dappy, the {C}Rap singer of alleged pop group, N-Dubz, walked free from court this week despite being found guilty of a serious assault. Funnily, his two (non-famous) co-defendants were jailed for over a year each after they did the pop ponce’s bidding by beating up some people at a petrol station.

So two unknowns are sent down while the famous one is let off with a slap on the wrist. Amazing what being a star does for you in terms of getting away with things. No doubt it will be the chat shows next, filled with his ugly mug on how he is so misunderstood.

Aww … Bless.

Feb 17 - Dappy

Dappy. Calling him a music star is simply a contradiction in terms.

I was just thinking …

I mentioned it in jest earlier on, but can you even get Blue Stratos these days, or am I showing my age?

Cheers.

Nick

Horsing around.

I’m so blooming hungry, I could eat a horse. However, if I can’t get hold of a Findus Beef Lasagne, a bacon sandwich will have to do.

Feb 10 - Findus Beef Lasagne

You really have to watch what you eat, these days. I like a lasagne. I do a mean one of my own, all made from scratch. However, if I felt a little lazy, I know I could always put my hands on one of those ready meals. Don’t particularly like them, but they serve a purpose. But things are not as they seem. According to mass hysteria, lasagne ready meals, in addition to containing cheese, peppers, pasta and many other unhealthy substances, now come with added, Champion the Wonder Horse.

Neigh, I kid you not. We’ve apparently been eating horse meat for ages. I never realised the reason until now why every time I trotted to the supermarket, I felt this urge to but a packet of oats.

And of course now we have the veggie brigade sitting all smug saying, ‘I told you so.’ Maybe, but I bet there are a few non-meat things which are dodgy. I don’t care. I’m meat eater and beyond redemption. I have every respect for vegetarians, it’s just not me. Mind you, there is one thing which annoys – those people who claim they are vegetarian but eat fish.

Feb 10 - Question Mark

How the blooming hell is that being a vegetarian?

And now for somebody who couldn’t even find a horse.

Feb 10 - Richard III Portrait

So finally, we know it really is Richard III who’s been issuing spiritual parking tickets in a Leicester car park for years. What I want to know is how on earth did people actually forget he was there? I mean, they know the car park was built on the site of an Abbey and presumably records showed it to be his final resting place otherwise how would they have known where to look for him in the first place.

When they decided to build a car park on top of him, was it just an oversight? You can imagine the surveyors and their checklist.

1. Excavate large hole.

2. Lay tarmac and paint white lines.

3. Remove dead King of England.

4. Install pay-by-foot ticket machines.

And why do they call them pay by foot machines? I’ve never seen anybody pay by foot. You use your hands.

Sorry, I digress, but I still don’t see the need for fuss. They spend all that money and effort excavating the site to dig him up, now they’re talking about burying him again. Make your sodding minds up. And please tell me we’re not going to have the prospect of the taxpayer funding a state funeral. Don’t we spend enough on the royal leeches who are living without throwing money at dead ones.

What I found funny was the programme the other day which showed how a specialist has reconstructed the king’s face using scientific skills and technology.

Feb 10 - Richard III Reconstructed Face

Bollocks. They’ve just looked at the portraits of him. It’s not exactly hard to make an accurate reconstruction when you have a head start, if you forgive the pun.

Poor old Richard. I bet he didn’t envisage spending 500 years in a car park. I hope they gave him a disabled bay, what with having that hump.

“A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse.” If Richard said that today, somebody would hand him Findus Beef Lasagne. Still, it could have been worse. They might have built a public lavatory on top of him, then rhyming slang term would have taken on a very literal meaning.

The poor dear.

Posh Spice, Victoria Beckham, the girl whose only talent is the ability to make millions without having any actual talent, posted an interesting tweet this week. She’s a little stressed. Referring to New York Fashion Week, she commented that it was the silly season where everybody goes a little crazy, or words to that effect as seen below.

Feb 10 - Victoria Beckham

No, Victoria, it isn’t the most stressful of times. Living in poverty under Tory Government cuts and not knowing if you’ll have a house this time next month … that’s stress.

We’ll fight them on the beaches.

Can’t remember where I read this but apparently, German schoolkids are studying the British seaside resort of Weston-super-Mere.

Yes, the town which has to be the worst seaside town I have ever visited, is being touted as a good indicator of British holiday fun and is now in German school textbooks.

Feb 10 - Weston-super-Mere

Weston-super-Mere? I mean, the fact the town inserts the word, super into its name should be enough for them to be prosecuted under the trades description act. I went there once and that was enough for me. It has one attraction – the pier, and even that burned down and was out of action for a few years.

So why are we touting Weston as the hotbed of activity? A couple of possibilities. One, is to send the Germans somewhere nobody in the UK wants to go, and if they are there, we won’t have to worry about them nicking our deckchairs on the beaches we do like.

Second reason. They’ve waged war on us twice in the past hundred years. Promote this place as the high spot of summer activity and they’ll turn around and decide it might be better to invade Crete instead.

Just a theory.

Right, enough banter …

I actually write this on a Saturday and having just finished, I realised I need to do a bit of shopping. I’m out of burgers and lasagne. Therefore, I’m going to saddle up, race to the supermarket and gallop along the meat aisle. Fear not, I won’t be there fur-long.

Sorry about the jokes. I admit, they are a bit lame. Hmmm … I think this theme may have run its course.

Cheers.

Nick

Happy Birthday to this site

Feb 3 - Badge

I didn’t realise the website was a year old until writing this roast.

My God, that’s one whole year of opinionated crap, Titanic film jokes and people with bad teeth from the Jeremy Kyle show.

I do have to say though, all the best to Jeremy in his battle against cancer. Let’s face it, without that show I’d have had far fewer visitors in the past year. Still, I am sticking to my New Year promise of no more poking fun at the dentally challenged from the show. However, even into February, it still remains the number one search engine term used to bring traffic to me.

Jeremy Kyle, Jeremy Kyle teeth, Jeremy Kyle bad teeth and even … Ugly people with teeth on Jeremy Kyle.

JK5

Get better soon, Jezza … as they say in the Black Country.

And talking of the Black Country …

Yes, that is where I come from. A right old run-down area in the Midlands which is called the Black Country because of the coal seam most of the land lies upon.

I know over the past year, I have taken several (modest estimation here) swipes at my local town, Walsall for being depressed and going to pot. Well, this has taken years of hard work by local businesses and the council to achieve and I was treated on Friday to a taste of what Walsall has been aspiring to in all this time – neighbouring West Bromwich.

Once a nice little shopping centre, for years West Bromwich has been nothing more than tatty pound-shops, tacky market stalls and empty premises. It is, basically – a hole.

Well, undeterred, Walsall saw West Bromwich as a shining light and have tried, with much success, to emulate it.

As I say, on Friday, I had the delight of going to West Bromwich and found nothing had changed since my last visit. You still feel as if you need to wash your hands on the way out and I did wonder if my car would be there when I returned to it. It was, thankfully, intact. I saw it in the distance as I listened to the piped music in the car park. Then I stopped. Puzzled. Music in the bloody car park … why?

Feb 3 - Music in Car Park

Apologies for the picture, I have a rubbish camera on my phone.

Anyway, I approached my car and saw the speaker. It was blasting Karma Chameleon, distorted at full volume above the bonnet my Ford Focus. Can anybody offer an explanation? I don’t go to West Bromwich very much for a number of reasons but certainly not to listen to music in a filthy car park. I’m much too concerned with getting back to my vehicle before I get mugged.

Still, even though I had to spend two hours there, at 80p to park, it was good value … and at least my car was kept entertained by the music. Stopped it from getting bored.

And still in the suburb of West Bromwich …

West Bromwich Albion is actually the team I support. All my life I’ve had to suffer ridicule and abuse because basically, we’ve been shit. But no more. For the past couple of years, not a bad little team has been assembled at the Hawthorns and for the first time in over 30 years, they can lay claim to be the top team in the region.

With this in mind, you’d think players would be clamouring to be at the club. Not so, Peter Odemwinge.

The want-away striker hoped to further his career by engineering a deadline-day move to … er, bottom of the table, Queens Park Rangers. He says it was ambition and nothing to do with the huge salary on offer. Anyway, refused permission by his club, he took it upon himself to drive down to London and force his way through the door. He was, quite rightly, refused.

Cue the eggs, see the target.

Feb 3 - Peter Odemwinge with Egg on his face

Peter Odemwinge with egg on his face.

Therefore, poor old Peter had to drive back home with his tail between his legs, knowing he has to face his team mates … and the fans, who all know he has stuck two-fingers up at a club who took him in and turned his career around. Good on West Brom for not bowing to him and any other overpaid Charlie.

As for Queens Park Rangers … That name should have an apostrophe in it. Queen’s. It was named after Queen’s Park, not a collective group of queens who happened to have a picnic in the park one day.

The latest thing for Twits to play with.

Mobile phone app, Vine, lets you share six-second video clips on Twitter, apparently.

Feb 3 - Twitter Vine

Six seconds! I wonder if it’s going to be like You Tube? Six seconds of crap video after having to watch a thirty second advertisement.

And the worry by watchdogs is that it will be simply used to spread porn and people will be posting clips of themselves having sex.

Come on … six seconds! Who in this country really only lasts six seconds having sex, apart from those living in … (Last piece edited out when I realised I know somebody who lives there).

You have just been Captcha’d.

As I have been saying, it is the first anniversary of starting on WordPress. I think I made the right choice in defecting from the now useless, Myspace, but do you want to know the real reason I chose WordPress, and not Blogger?

This …

Dec 16 Captcha2

Yes, those bloody irritating Captcha requests.

Don’t you just find them tedious? You can imagine the smarmy voice. ‘Please prove to us you’re not a robot.’

Arrrgghhh! Fuck off! I mean, what the hell is the one above supposed to be? Eatywipt3 or something. What the bloody hell is an eatywipt? They’re just making it up.

Then there’s this one:

Dec 16 Captcha

What? For f….’s sake! So now you people who use Blogger and read me, know why it is I don’t often reciprocate and comment back. I’d love to but I can’t bloody do so without a degree in Mensa and a liking for doing the cryptic crossword. I mean, what do you think that second one is? Sort of, er … Drainpipe, wall of housey ntcyone. It makes no blooming sense.

There, rant over. Mind you, I suppose I could introduce it myself. How about this one to type in before making a comment?

                      Feb 3 - Iain Duncan Smith                Feb 3 - Is a Cock

Yes, childish, I know. But wouldn’t it be funny to get everybody to type that Iain Duncan Smith is one?

Cheers.

Nick