Blogging Bored

Time to kill…

Graphic designers are sad in the UK…

as you are apparently the biggest listeners to the George Lamb show on BBC Radio 6, which was on from 10am til 1pm on weekdays has reached its end. The show has been moved to a 7am slot on Saturdays and Sundays.  The childish gibberings, features, slating of that fat bloke on Radio 1, humour, with a smattering of great tunes that eased most listeners into the lush voice of Cerys Matthews on weekdays will be on at 7am?!  On the weekend?!  That is really asking a lot of your listeners, I think, unless it’s people who have been up all night.  Who’s going to come back from a club and go “What’s perfect for this moment?  I know, I’ll put on the George Lamb show!”  That’ll go down like a shit storm in a chocolate factory and make all the disco biscuit chewing, face munchers well happy!  They wanna hear something more like this!

His ever expanding TV work is apparently the reason why the show has been moved.  In case you hadn’t noticed, George Lamb is shit on TV anyway.  Utter crap, getting himself involved in a programme in its final death throes – Big Brother(‘s Little Brother), furthermore, Make My Body Younger and his latest foray into lowest common denominator television, Young Butcher of the Year and soon to be broadcast Young Mechanic of the Year.  Let’s make everyone a celebrity, there’s enough to go round guys, honest.  You too could be like Dom on the fucking One Show.  What utter pony!!

Sadly, if you are a fan of any of the above mentioned programmes, then you ARE the lowest common denominator backing the funneling of TV license money into SHIT!  Shitting on the grave of John Logie Baird turning in it beneath you as you defecate!

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Filed under: Radio, Television, , , , , , , , , , ,

Lamebook

If you haven’t seen Lamebook already – this site is hilarious!  (Maybe I am not down with the kids enough and you all have seen this already).
It goes to show that, as a friend once said, that tools such as Facebook, lead to an inability to communicate in a REAL way or that think this virtual world of social networking is somehow completely unconnected to reality – BRILLIANT!! Or is it just dumb Americans?!  Some are barely literate – So, let’s poke fun at them like some kind of sideshow at Coney Island, after all other peoples’ ignorance/lameness that brightens up our days…  Amen to that!

Filed under: Funny, , ,

What a jammy f*cker!

I opened up my browser today in the afternoon – I don’t have Google as a homepage because it was so nice to me for many years and then became a portal for cyber rape of my computer by ne’er do wells.  Is MSN now, I know, financial rape by a multinational, before anyone points it out, I know, oooh dirty man Bill Gates.  They’re all bastards, I KNOW!

Anyway, the MSN home page, normally there for decoration i.e. I normally ignore it, don’t even look or glance at it, because it is normally Katie Price’s streaky mascara ravaged face or Peter Andre’s smug mug on it. It’s normally an open browser and move on scenario.  Anyway, a link to a video caught my eye, Stuart Tinner, wins £250,000 for kicking a rugby ball from thirty metres and hitting the horizontal bar on the uprights at last night’s Saracens vs. South Africa match at Wembley Stadium.

I mean really, how does that happen?  A guy who works in a job centre, yes the place that is the bane and scourge of my life, from Welwyn (shit hole) of all places gets a quarter million – on retrospect I suppose he deserves it!  Not only that but the unassuming geeky looking fellow then had all the Saracens’ cheerleaders stop just short of bundling him.  Well Mr. Tinner welcome to the world of minor fame and an abundance of pussy!  Oh yeah and ‘lend us a bag of sand mate’, you’ll be hearing that a lot.

In the words or Rod Stewart Some Guys Have All the Luck….

Filed under: Uncategorized, , , , , , , , ,

What’re the hours

Waking up is hard to do – especially when you have to get up and try to find a purpose to your life.  Knowing that nothing much will happen, not at all really.  You will spend hours sorting shit out, looking through even more shit that probably has nothing to do with improving you life or your situation.  Before this takes a turn for the depressing…

I find myself in the kitchen (sometimes in other peoples’) in afternoon soup making scenarios increasingly often these days.  What makes me wake up (yes I do still find purpose to my life!), spend several hours tirelessly trawling through, mainly unsuitable job vacancies.  It’s never as easy as in the films where you go through the classifieds section of the newspaper with a red marker pen circling things.  Then spending lots of time working on my CV, portfolio and shit online (things aside from Facebook, masturbation and procrastination, I know what you’re thinking!).  That then makes me want to make soup?!  French onion with sliced baguette and gruyere a week ago, winter vegetable a few days ago and carrot, lentil and coriander today.  Maybe it’s because it is the one thing that I have control over, where I get the desired end result and it’s food, comforting food at that.  I get to do something which I feel is rewarding, probably why I write this bloody thing.  Besides I make good soup!  Just in case you were wondering, that’s what people will be getting off me for Xmas.  Just remember – it’s DAMN GOOD soup!

Someone suggested I applied for a job as a receptionist the other day.  I mean really!  Me!  A receptionist?!  Well it isn’t far from my house, virtually no travelling distance.  Erm, maybe, not sure it would suit me though.  Doesn’t sound like such a bad idea after all…  Got me thinking of the closing scenes of Spinal Tap:

Nigel Tufnel: [on what he would do if he couldn’t be a rock star] Well, I suppose I could, uh, work in a shop of some kind, or… or do, uh, freelance, uh, selling of some sort of, uh, product. You know…
Marty DiBergi: A salesman?
Nigel Tufnel: A salesman, like maybe in a, uh, haberdasher, or maybe like a, uh, um… a chapeau shop or something. You know, like, “Would you… what size do you wear, sir?” And then you answer me.
Marty DiBergi: Uh… seven and a quarter.
Nigel Tufnel: “I think we have that.” See, something like that I could do.
Marty DiBergi: Yeah… you think you’d be happy doing something like-…
Nigel Tufnel: “No; we’re all out. Do you wear black?” See, that sort of thing I think I could probably… muster up.
Marty DiBergi: Do you think you’d be happy doing that?
Nigel Tufnel: Well, I don’t know – wh-wh-… what’re the hours?

The receptionist job did leave me thinking though, ‘what’re the hours?’

Filed under: Film, jobs, Music, , , , , ,

Is it just me or…

Filed under: Funny, ,

Boredom b’dum b’dum

What a track from one of my favourite bands of the late 70s. Pre-Shelley Buzzcocks, love this song, with Howard Devoto singing lead vocals b’dum b’dum. It got me thinking…

I have to say it is a defining thing when looking for someone to take you on as an employee.  Boredom, not the I haven’t got anything to do type of boredom, but the doing the same thing and not getting any results for it, type of boredom.  Spinning those tired yarns, about how good I am, how valuable I am (etc etc) in order to try and get someone to pick me. Trying not to be picked last. Things haven’t changed much from those school days on the knee grazingly shiny flecked concrete compound.  Everyone in a line – the two captains stood there, eyeing you up and down.  It doesn’t matter that one of them is your best mate (for that month at least), he still has pride and male competitiveness burning inside him, he still isn’t going to pick you first.

In my mind, the overwhelming concern was not to be chosen last – or even worse, be left over!  Is it a lack of ambition to not want to be picked first?  Can I blame myself for the thoughts at the back of my head today saying that I might not be good enough to be picked first?  Can it be as simple as that?  Will I have to turn myself in to the thing I abhorred the most as a child – the arm in the air when a teacher asks a question.  Face contorted in effort, buttocks raised ever so slightly out of the chair, weird vocalisations in order to be noticed by said teacher, to be chosen to answer whatever question may be asked.  Then when you are chosen to give the correct answer – that look of smugness to your colleagues in class.  Where everybody else just thinks c**t!

This is what it has come down to – where there is a surplus of supply, we the suppliers, are reduced to memories of being stood in that chilly playground to be chosen.  The wind whistling and blowing the leaves around you as you wait, wait for what feels like an eternity.  Would you be the left over one who against all odds becomes the hero for that break time.  Your fancy footwork winning the game thus improving your ranking next time when the torture of picking teams comes around again.  Or you have to become that c**t and they will love you, but you’re still a c**t…

Filed under: jobs, , , , , ,

If you want to vote, hit the red button

From a Blogging Bored guest writer:

Watching Question Time last night, it struck me that if Robert Kilroy-Silk had his way, we would have a referendum on everything. The UK would be the ultimate democracy and any major political decision would go to the public vote. Should we sign the Lisbon Treaty? Yes / No. Should we get out of Europe? Yes / No. Should we ban immigration? (he actually did suggest this as a referendum topic). A simple yes or no answer will suffice.  Unfortunately, Kilroy-Silk’s ‘share or shaft’ debate did not rear its ugly head again.

In the aftermath of the expenses scandal, and in the height of a credit crunch it is not all that surprising that we have so little trust in our politicians. Even if they are our elected political representatives, can we really blame people for wanting to step in and make the big decisions for them? But if we have so little faith in our politicians’ decision-making ability, where do we stop? Should the PM wear the red tie or the blue polka dot tie for Prime Ministers Question Time? Should he have a bourbon or a custard cream with his cup of tea this afternoon? Lets put all these important issues to the public vote.

With a general election coming up in May, it won’t be long until we all do get a chance to say how we want the country to be run. Admittedly it barely feels like a choice at all – like choosing between a Burger King or a McDonalds –both equally rubbish (and just as bad for you); both fairly indistinguishable and in essence a choice between the lesser of two evils. But nonetheless, it is our opportunity to make a choice and have a say, and one that 40% of us couldn’t be bothered to make in the 2005 election.

With this in mind, where does that leave the Killjoy-Silk’s plans for multiple referendums? If people can’t be bothered to show up for a General Election, how will they be bothered to show up for every little thing he wants to vote on?  We’d never get anything done!  The country would be worse than it is now!

The answer is simple – where else have you heard the phrase “public vote” in recent weeks? Yes… X Factor. Thousands of people feel compelled to vote every week for their favourite musical wannabe – they text those numbers, log onto that website, hit that red button on their sky remote.

Picture it now – first a 2 minute slot in which Gordon can show us what he’s made of – what gives him the X Factor. The crowd will whoop, cheer or boo, then he’ll turn to face the panel – what better form of public scrutiny? First Cheryl can tell him that she loved the polka dot tie, and that she thought he made a good effort and had a lovely smile; then Simon will step in to sneer at him over his fiscal policy. Once the “performances” are over, Dermot can give us a little sum up of the issues – a reminder of what we’ve just seen – and then to the public vote. It’s a format that works, it’s foolproof! I think Kilroy-Silk will just be disappointed he didn’t think of it first…

Filed under: Politics, Television, , , , , , , , , ,

I bloody hate CVs

What’s in a CV – a pack of lies? I mean you cannot write what you’re like. What if they did find out what you were really like? What your ‘interests’ or ‘extra-curricular activities’ really were?  “Yes well, I love getting properly mashed up from Friday around 1pm-ish (yes, which will be time that you are paying me for) until Sunday, then I come in for work – a little bit late, sometimes I might even get a full night’s sleep first”.  I don’t think that will curry any favour with future employers. 

I mean my mum, you know, Mum – said I should change my Facebook picture in case any possible employers google my name and see the picture of me with blacked out eyes, and flicking the ‘Vs’ up to all and sundry.  How sneaky is that?!  After I have lied to you about how well versed I am in affordable housing, sustainable homes, using all CS4 packages, you’re gonna go check out my Facebook profile – not fuckin’ likely mate – you don’t even get a picture on my settings now!  Talk about judging a book by its cover!  Although it does demonstrate some skills regarding my use of Photoshop.

Having a CV is like telling an employer how you would like to be or how you have manipulated your skills/talent to fit in with their job criteria.  The height of dishonesty!  I mean there are loads of incompetent people who have jobs – look at the Student Loans Company!

I just finished pimping my CV to suit a job, yes I have resorted to it – I have no choice, might get me a bloody interview.  So, what is a CV?  A foot in a door, forcing your way in to a job interview like a heavy handed bailiff.  Then it’s a case of using my dazzling charm and probably stretching the truth that little bit more to get the job.  So, will you get found out when you start working?  Probably not, in my experience you get handled with kid gloves until you ’settle in’.  I mean they have to, even if you’re not what they expected.  They gotta give you a fair run at it.  They spent all the money on the ads, reading ALL those CVs, whittling them down and paying someone else to do all that; they don’t wanna go through that all again!

So, fingers crossed, I might get it!  HAHA!

Filed under: jobs

Yeah, well

buggy1

the Halloween party was ok. Yes, it was in a strip club, no, there were no strippers. The venue, Metropolis on Cambridge Heath Rd (click the image above for the ‘tour’), was pretty good.  Enough of the customary stainless steel/chrome and faux leather to make it a ‘gentlemen’s venue’; as they like to market themselves.  Although I must admit I did feel a little uneasy at the, otherwise shy and retiring, young women who acted like they never seen a lamp post before writhing and gyrating in my face round the many poles.  The occasional glance as if to say “Oi!  What you lookin’ at yeah!” from them, only made me feel more uneasy.  What do you mean what am I looking at?!  You, YOU are the one swinging round on a pole, incredibly badly I might add (not that I am a connoisseur – but I know good from bad!), checking to see who IS looking – sorry love, but you don’t get to choose who looks at you.  Besides how can you complain when I was sat here, minding my own business, chatting to my mates in this booth and you just launched yourself at the pole like a horny monkey!  Just as I had stared a girl out on one of the poles – did a shriek come out over the PA from an uber camp out of tune male DJ announcing his arrival – What was the first track?  Look at my first blog post – exactly, old Cheryl.  I did not sign up for this!  I thought this was going to be some ultra cool East London party at a strip club, sounded great on paper.  Was not expecting Cheryl Cole or Katie fuckin Perry!  What a let down!  Highlight of the night for me was, imagine the beach buggy pictured above, instead of the funny looking anorexic blonde draped over it, a skinny (a la the old Mr. Muscle) fella dressed in a head to toe flesh coloured lycra suit, gurning his little face of, with his tiny appendage on show for all to see being sprayed with a hand shower by a equally small/weedy Japanese guy dressed as Baron Samedi (equally gurney, I might add) spraying him with water while screaming profanities in Japanese – CLASSIC.  Wish I had my camera to share this moment with you all…

Filed under: nightclubs, , , , , ,

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