A case of bad teeth.

I spoke the other week about tag lines for this blog and I was looking at my stats the other day and it actually tells you what phrases people type before ending up on my page as a result.

Top of the charts is not, as you may assume from previous weeks, Titanic, Titanic plank, Rose on the plank or they both fit on the bloody plank. This is of course, in response to my ongoing quibble that the silly cow in the film Titanic, took all the space on that raft and left Leo to freeze his nuts off in the Atlantic.

Yep, that’s the one … again. However, as you can see, I am not alone in my gripe. Below is what others have thought of the subject and if two people could have fitted on that piece of wood.

I rest my case.

As I was saying, that lot I previously mentioned, weren’t the most common phrases. In the last month, over a hundred people have searched using Jeremy Kyle Teeth, or Jeremy Kyle bad teeth and even Jeremy Kyle worst teeth. Typing this, they found me as a result of a picture I posted a few weeks back of this horrendous, scary woman.

Remember her? Anyway, seeing as some of you may have arrived here looking for more of the same from The Jeremy Kyle Show, who am I to disappoint …

There … Happy now?

Hey! I’ve achieved notoriety.

I have in the past, poked fun and sometimes criticised a number of local councils and none more so than my own, Walsall Council. I know somebody who works within the council and I was amused to hear from them this week that this site has been blocked to stop staff accessing it.

Yay! I must have struck a nerve. Well done, Walsall Council. You keep making ridiculous decisions, wasting money and giving poor service to the town, and I’ll keep writing about it.

And talking of Walsall …

An example of the strange folk I encounter as I enjoy a breakfast down town in an arcade coffee shop balcony. Two men sit down on a box, then a friend of theirs carrying a red bag, comes to talk to them. However, he doesn’t simply talk, he stands ten feet away then shouts so loud, the entire arcade, shops and customers of the coffee shop above can hear him.

Why don’t you just go and stand next to them?

And this week’s chip shop episode.

Yes, it was back to the regular chip shop this week for yet another meeting with Gothic Girl, the self-styled corpse bride who tried to poison me a few weeks ago. However, when I walked into the shop, I was taken aback because (wait for it) Gothic Girl … wasn’t there. No, there was another young girl in her place who served me with no hitches whatsoever.

Thing is, I’m worried now. Where is Gothic Girl? I mean – seems silly if she’s spent six months there but left when she finally learned how to wrap a bag of chips and charge the correct money.

What if I never see Gothic Girl again?

Then I had a thought. It was Monday – May 1. The festival of Beltane.

That’s it. Gothic Girl and the rest of the Munsters – They’ve all gone on holiday to celebrate.

It’s all a bit too Munch.

So Munch’s The Scream, sold for $120million. Wow!

It is a lot of money I suppose for a sketch using a pastel set. The big question about The Scream has always been what inspired it. I know the answer. The character has been forced to listen to N Dubz.

Nob of the week.

I’m going to say nothing on the subject of tanning addict, Patricia Krentcil apart from one thing.

You look – fucking ridiculous.

Sinking to an all time low.

No … I’m not going on about the bloody Titanic again. Think again. What I am actually moaning about now is the scummy newspaper The Sun. Not being content with tearing new England manager, Roy Hodgson to shreds before he’s even overseen a game, the paper decided to dedicate their major headline to mocking the guy’s speech impediment.

Way to go, you assholes for reaching the gutter of all gutters in terms of journalism. What’s the matter – a little sore the FA picked Roy and not Harry Redknapp, the guy you’ve been telling us for months was 100% certain to be the next manager?

Mind you, speaking of headlines.

It’s not just The Sun who get it wrong. I saw this on Twitter and couldn’t resist a bit of bad taste myself. Mind you, I didn’t print the thing originally and whoever did, should certainly have checked what advert was going to run underneath the main story.

You couldn’t make it up.

On a more serious note.

I would just like to say a huge get well to Toby Craddock, the two-year-old son of Wolverhampton Wanderers star, Jody Craddock. Toby has been diagnosed with leukemia and this, after Craddock lost his first son ten years ago to a cot death.

It just makes me angry at the injustice and even more of an atheist that any fantasy God could be okay with this. There is a world filled with many deadbeat dads who don’t care about their kids on one hand, then you have people like Jody Craddock who have been dealt the most cruelest of blows. How much more heartache should one family have to take? We wish you well, Toby. Safe recovery.

What the hell is my computer doing?

My computer has been running slow all day and making whirring noises. I checked the task manager to see why and found out that 98% of the usage was down to the system idle process.

How can it be idle? I’ve never heard it make so much blooming noise.

Nice weather for ducks?

Or maybe swans?

Apparently, we in Britain are in the middle of a drought and have been warned not to waste water.

Drought? Tell that to those living near the River Severn in Worcester the other day.

Well, I made it in the end.

I managed to the finish the blog without mentioning the film, Titanic again. I feel good for that. In fact, I could describe myself as feeling like I’m the king of the world.

Arrrggghh!

Cheers.

Nick

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