Tag Archive: Pet Shop Boys

Put that light out.

So it’s all over. The torch has been extinguished and GB athletes can hold their heads high. They did the country proud and not only that, we saw a sight I thought I’d never see.

Yes, Andy Murray and the word winner being used in the same sentence.

Apparently there was some big closing ceremony but did I watch the pretentious rolling out of over the hill artists? No, I was too busy chewing my own arm off. It was slightly preferable. The thought of Russell Brand does the Beatles, turned my stomach. Neither did I want to see Annie Lennox and the bloody Pet Shop Boys. I spent most the 80s having them send me to sleep. At least we didn’t get Coldplay.

I say I didn’t watch it but I did catch a couple of clips later on when I couldn’t avoid them on the news. Therefore, I have one thing to say … Queen – hang your heads in shame. I mean, I love Queen but the bit I saw had a recording of Freddie Mercury followed by three minutes of Brian May, wanking on his guitar. Queen were great, but Freddie died twenty years ago. Stop milking it and leave grave robbery to Burke and Hare. Not only that, after Brian’s pretentious electric solo, some karaoke singer walks on to sing We Will Rock You. I ended the clip – just before my evening meal tried to do a u-turn and choke me to death. The only other bit I saw was some guy doing his best disco dad impression while playing songs on a turntable. Obviously he’d lost his way trying to get to Betty and Bert’s Silver Wedding celebration and wandered into the stadium by mistake.

Come on. Since when did playing records constitute live entertainment?

Not only did we have just half of the band, Queen, we didn’t even have a real Queen, either. No, poor Liz must still be shagged out after the parachute jump during the opening ceremony. After the Bond sketch, you think they’d have done a sequel for the closing event. You only try to die twice? Bearing in mind the opening with Bond and all the golds Team GB have won, wouldn’t it have been apt for Daniel Craig to walk into the Olympic stadium and find the Queen, naked and covered in gold paint?

Evolution of man

I read, the other week that a new and ancient species of human has been found from studying fossils in Kenya. This unknown link is thought to have lived about two million years ago.

I always find this fascinating, particularly due to the fact creationists think the world is only a few thousand years old but mostly, the scientists totally forget about the new breed of species already in the here and now.

Yes. These boffins reckon that in millions of years time, the evolutionary ladder will have climbed again with humanity branched into a division of higher elite and lower sub-human. A bit like H G Wells’ The Time Machine.

Thing is, they’ve got it all wrong. The new breed is already here. I mean … have you not watched the Jeremy Kyle Show?

We don’t have to wait for the far future to see what we’ll become. The future is happening now – walking around with baseball caps, wearing bling, hooded tops and sporting socks tucked into tracksuit bottoms.

Ascent of man? I bloody hope not.

You couldn’t invent such crap.

Just when you thought the sleazy world of banking could get no lower, another slimy cretin springs to the surface. New Barclays chairman, Sir David Walker says banks should charge customers for basic accounts. He also blames free banking for the mis-selling scandals, going on to spout bullshit that it was because of this, his poor misunderstood banking colleagues had to look for other ways to rake in the cash.


The banks are in a mess due to greedy bosses on obscene bonuses and staff who abused their roles by speculating and short-selling on the markets. Not the function of banks at all. I briefly worked in a bank – HFC back in the 90s and the guidelines were to rip off the customer and sell them insurance policies they didn’t need.

Sir David … where did the Sir come from? You used to have to slay dragons or something to get such an honour. Now it seems all you need to be is a sycophantic toady, sucking up to successive governments. Honours and fat-cat bonuses? Most bankers should be in jail.

Sir David ponders why nobody likes him and his banking colleagues.

And talking of whingers …

Our unelected peers in the House of Lords have been moaning. Apparently, they don’t like the food in the posh taxpayer-funded restaurant.

Why not try paying for your food then? It’s what the rest of the working population do at lunchtime.

Big Brother is watching you.

I love Big Brother on TV. For weeks, I get to know these folk and once it’s over, they can bugger off and I never have to see them again. A bit like the awful in-laws when I divorced. However, my daughter likes it too and I have to record it for her. Nothing wrong with that but now, she wants to see the celebrity version, too.

Give me strength. Talk about Z-list. I know there was a big thing with the Olympics, but to have Ashley McKenzie, one of the few who did rubbish at the games is really scraping the barrel. Perhaps his defeat after about 4 minutes into the judo meant he was able to appear because he had little else to do at the time.

Calling some of these people celebrities is stretching it a bit. I only know four out the thirteen and we now have ex reality TV stars … on a reality TV show. Not only that, people from American TV that nobody in this country has ever heard of. What’s the point of that on a UK celebrity show? I mean, there is some plonker on there who goes by the name of The Situation. That’s really what he likes to call himself. I have to feel for him though. After being confronted by Julian Clary and Julie Goodyear, I bet he wished he was back in the US reality world.

Bad taste?

A crazy golf course in a Blackpool gallery has been slammed as one of the features is a likeness of Adolf Hitler.

What’s the problem? Some might get a kick of knocking a golf ball in-between his legs. Anyway, we all know Hitler only had one ball, now’s his chance to have a few more in that area of the body.

So what next?

Now the Olympics are over, what can we do to fulfil our sad lives? Oh yeah, the football season started. Still, there must be something else, something we can watch on TV. Let’s take a look at what’s on tonight, I think a new show, began.




Still scaling the lofty heights.

You may recall last week, I told you I was tackling a 10 years in the waiting job of clearing the clutter in the loft. I’m happy to say, it’s about halfway completed after about six hours work during the week. Can’t do much in one go as it’s so hot up there.

Another stint this week ahead and it should be done. Still got clutter all over the floor up there but at least it’s sorted into perfectly ordered piles of clutter. It’s amazing what you find, though.

Okay. So I have Cybermen and Daleks hiding in my loft, but at least there is one positive. I now know why I’ve not had any rats during the past year. I wondered why that poison hadn’t been touched. The bigger monsters exterminated the rodents.

Back at Olympic Park …

It’s nearly over and GB have done fantastic. As I type, Mo Farah is in the background, going for gold. Now you will know from previous roasts, I know nothing of athletics and have to be honest, I’d not even heard of Mo Farah until this week. Still, he’s GB so let’s give him our support. Now you go and watch the kiss of death from Britt land on Mo Farah. It normally does when I big somebody up.

One of the strangest things I saw this week was when a rider made her horse do the foxtrot and win a Gold for it. Some of these events do stretch the definition of the word, sport. Whatever next – a dancing dog called Pudsey, winning a Gold?

Well, there would be if Simon Cowell ran the Olympics.

Oh … Hang on. Go – Mo!

Yeeeeeesssss! Another Gold.

Breakfast’s gone a bit cold.

Coldplay’s Chris Martin said this week that he plays his new songs to his kids at breakfast to gauge how good the music is. If children, Moses and Apple (Yeah … I know) start singing, then Chris knows he’s onto a winner.

Come on, Chris, you’re playing safe testing it out at breakfast. Kids are wide awake that time in the morning. Test it out just before bedtime, then if the kids fall asleep, you’ll know they think it’s the same load of monotonous dirge the rest of us do.

Chris Martin and Coldplay – Possibly the best cure for insomnia ever created.

And talking of falling asleep …

Fishing enthusiast, Phil Hunt was in the news as it was reported he needs someone to look after him when he partakes in his favourite sport.

Fishing – Sport? Yeah – right. Surprised it’s not an Olympic event. Anyway, Phil suffers from narcolepsy which means he could fall asleep and fall in the river.

There’s a little gift for you, Phil but narcolepsy, come on! Fishing is the most boring pastime ever invented. It’s enough to send anybody to sleep. Has there been in-depth research into the condition? A bit of digging may find most of the sufferers were found to be sitting by the river with a rod in their hands. Either that or they were just listening to Coldplay.

In an unrelated news report, chef Gurpareet Bains has developed a curry which gets people to sleep better. His Insomnia Masala, produces effects similar to sleeping pills.

All well and good, but drifting into a sound sleep after eating a curry is only solving half the problem and very risky. What about when you wake up in the middle of the night and have to rush to the loo due to the volcanic eruption at the other end of the body when said curry, recycles itself to the tune of Ring of Fire?

And then you wake up …

Kay Delany from Cambridgeshire, slipped and banged her head. She was knocked out and when she woke up, found she’d lost twenty years and still thought it was 1990.

Blimey. Can you imagine if that happened? If it was me, I’d still think I was married to my ex-wife and therefore hiding the Kit-Kat bars while dodging flying crockery. Not only that, I’d still have the recent memory of having to listen to the bloody Pet Shop Boys.

Terms of the divorce. I got the house, she got the Pet Shop Boys. Now there’s another musical brand to send you to sleep.

But still … 1990? It took me years to get over the trauma of the Chris Waddle penalty miss during the World Cup in Italy that year. I’d be facing the prospect of waking in a cold sweat again, screaming, ‘Noooooo!’

Yes, Chris. Twenty-two years later, I still close my eyes and wonder … if the ball you put over the bar has come to land, yet?

Probably the sickest stunt I’ve heard in a while.

It was in the news this week that Take That’s Gary Barlow and wife, lost a child in a still-birth. As a father, I can only imagine the hurt and nobody – ever, deserves that. Now you can guess, I’m not a fan of Take That, neither would I know a Gary Barlow song if it was blasted into my ears. However, what little I do know of the man is that he comes across as a decent enough guy. Decent, on the other hand, is not a word which could ever in a million years, be attributed to former Big Brother contestant, Kenneth Tong.

Kenneth thought it really big to jump on the bandwagon and tweet hate-filled jokes, poking fun at the Barlow’s loss. I’m not going to repeat them or even suggest you check them out. Take my word, they come from a sick mind.

Kenneth Tong, as I said, was on Big Brother a few years back and in his six days in the house, showed himself to be the useless excuse for a human being we still know him to be. He once boasted money can buy you anything. Really? Not respect and the only thing it seems to have bought Kenneth is the tag of being a useless low-life scumbag of the highest degree. A complete wanker.

Kenneth stands by his evil tweets and says he only did it for fun and to get noticed.

I wonder, when he dies and nobody attends his funeral for him being the worst kind of slug from beneath a slimy stone, will anybody notice then? Will they care that he’s gone?

Is it safe to venture up the loft now?

Okay, creatures of mass extermination have been obliterated, and there’s still no sign of rats. Therefore, this time next week, I think my work in the loft will be done and I’ll have loads of space. Great, then I can bung all the crap from every other part of the house, up there. Result.

Now then, what’s this lying in the corner? Oh my God! The worst horror of all. Is it rats, or even dead rats? No … worse.

Arrrggghhh! Bloody Pet Shop Boys. How did that get there?

I need therapy.



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