Holy Olympians … I just don’t understand it.

Not a great fan of the Olympics, even with Britain hosting the thing. The Olympics is an event which comers around every four years and suddenly, we watch sports we would never normally be interested in and sit glued to our screens, most of the time, not having a clue what is going on. It’s like the gymnastics. They all look bloody good to me but when you see the scores, I can’t tell the difference between crap and excellent.

Have London 2012 done a good job? Maybe, but I still hark on about the fact that hundreds of charity projects were thrown to the lions when their funding was cut to fund this couple of weeks of glory for one or two. And there have been cock-ups along the way.

What about the swimming pool, designed and built costing millions yet some idiot of an architect thinks a sloping roof will look good but fails to fathom that the 5000 yellow seats will not see the diving board as the view is obscured.

Then we have the fiasco of the lucrative contract awarded to G4S who having failed to attract enough people to work for a minimum wage, now have to turn to our police and the army to make up the shortfall. Why wasn’t a decent wage offered? There are some companies making obscene money out of advertising this event, surely the workers deserve good money too.

Also, with all the traffic, London is going to be a no-go zone for cars. Well, no change there then. I hope it goes well though. However, having seen London’s previous attempts, namely the over inflated cost of Wembley Stadium and even worse, the Millennium Dome, can you blame me for not having much faith in them to deliver?

I saw the other day, people are being victimised for wearing Pepsi logos as it offends sponsor, Coca Cola. Give me strength. People can do what they like. It’s a free country. There was also the mix-up over posting the South Korean flag alongside the pictures of the North Korean football team. Way to go. Just go and upset the nation most likely to have their finger on the nuclear button.

Still, London will say that was at Hampden Park, and blame the Scots. They can get bombed instead.

Life’s a beach.

This week, the sun returned to the UK and everybody headed to the beach. Okay, not so where I spent a day, in Rhyl. It was deserted. Described as a poor man’s Blackpool, Rhyl really lowers the bar in terms of sun destinations but there were a number of people taking in the sun. Costa Del Sol … you have nothing on the UK. Why fly out to experience this …

When you can got to Rhyl and come across this?

Come on. No contest, is there?

Getting shirty.

Wore this t-shirt the other day and being bored, started fiddling with the buttons on the collar.

Hang on, now I know what you’re saying. Why has a t-shirt got buttons on the collar? Well, I don’t know the answer. Obviously some stupid poxy fashion designer thought it a good idea at the time. I mean, what do I need them for? Obviously, somewhere along the line, I may find myself in a situation where somebody I know has lost a button and then I can come to the rescue and say, ‘Here you are, I have a one you can borrow.’

Stupid idea. Not only that, I was sitting down and something was digging into my naval. I looked down, turned the underside of the shirt and there it was – a spare button. WTF? So, not only have I got a useless three buttons that don’t do anything, there is also a spare in case I lose one of the other non-functioning buttons.

Crazy.

Careful where you walk with a camera.

I had to take a trip to a graveyard this week. I have a piece going into a non-fiction anthology and was asked for ideas on illustrations. Seeing as the piece is called, The Death of the Struggling Writer, I thought a shot of me writing by a tombstone would be a great image.

Therefore, I shanghaied my brother with his expensive camera and off we trotted to a local church to make use of some crumbling 200-year-old graves which were surrounded by weeds.

That was one of the shots taken before I reached my favoured choice of location at the back of the church. However, this was not available as it was occupied buy a Gothic couple who appeared to be … erm, copulating.

Right, seeing as it was conspicuous playing peeping tom with myself plus photographer with huge Nikon hanging from neck, I had to make do with the front of the church, in full public view of staring passers-by. Took loads of shots and got them off to the editor. Also, managed to escape the graveyard, without getting arrested.

And another close escape …

Having nearly got arrested over the photos, I had another attempt the next day when I took my daughter to her summer school. She starts year seven soon and some in her year are doing a two-week introduction. I tried to drop her off but the school gates were all locked up. Very badly organised. We walked around the back. Open gates but still no sign of life. Then, we came across two more 11-year-old girls who sort of, tagged along. Then, a third came and before I knew it, I had a trail of pre-teen females following me like the Pied Piper of Walsall.

Eventually, I found a side entrance, wandered in, girls in tow and found a member of staff who looked at me as if it was obvious which of the two hundred doors and corridors we should have been aiming for.

‘These girls all with you?’ the woman asked.

I looked to my unintended entourage. ‘No,’ I replied, ‘Just the one. I seem to have collected the others on the way. I must have a talent for picking up young girls.’

I then looked at the wide-eyed expression on the staff member and thought how that must have sounded to her.

I departed, leaving my daughter for day one of her induction, and drove away as the sirens were getting close.

Looking for an argument?

A German company has started a telephone arguing service, inspired by the Monty Python argument sketch.

For £1 a minute, you can shout, swear and let off steam.

I don’t get it, though. Why pay £1 a minute when you can ring Virgin Media to ask why your internet isn’t working and get an argument for nothing?

Prima donna

Madonna fleeced her fans £200 a head for a 45-minute show and then spent 15 minutes of that spouting her uninteresting views on the world. If folk wanted to hear people talk crap, they can watch a politician, not some over-inflated ego full of self-importance. £200 for half hour’s music. If you can’t be professional and give the customer what they want – retire.

Madonna. Some things are well past their sell-by date.

Let’s see how the Olympics are going.

Apparently, Team GB have blown their chance for a gold in the cycling. They are currently trapped in a pelaton behind the breakaway group. A pelaton? It sounds like something out of Doctor Who. Can’t they just say cluster of bike riders and have done with it?

Cheers.

Nick

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