Is it just me or is everything shit?

Why yes, yes it is. Particularly the book. If you want to read it, I have a spare copy. (My only copy). Please, take it off me.



It had all the hallmarks of a good read - claiming to be written by two grumpier chaps than I, and after a brief flick through, I paid £3 for it at a charity book stall at work. Which is just as well, since it turned out to be shit.

At first glance, the book seems to do a job of lampooning all political persuasions, but on a closer inspection it looks like their heart is not in it depending on the particular persuasion they are looking at. This is particularly apparent when it comes to things like the new global religion of environMENTALISM. They lampoon almost everything, but it becomes pretty obvious that they are utter hippy bastards

Now clearly, I realise there's a certain irony in the situation of me complaining about some guys complaining about stuff I approve of, and then me complaining about them not complaining about stuff I think they should complain about, but hey, it's my blog and I can.

So anyway, it does indeed turn out that everything is shit.

Holibags

Well, even large angry people get to take holidays. I returned, yesterday, from Durham. It's a small city with a fucking ridiculous number of hills over a short horizontal distance. It's a rather picturesque place, although it seems to be plagued by joggers.



I spent time with friends in the pub - now, I do this in Edinburgh too, but it is a group of friends I don't see often enough, and obviously it was a different pub. A change of scenery, and all that.

One morning I pottered around in the Botanic Gardens, which had a nice soothing effect on me. I came across a giant water lily. Next to which, they had a picture of a small child sitting on a giant lily...

Something like this:



(I gleefully plundered that image from the interwebs). Conveniently, there was a mother with small child sat at the entrance to the hot house where the lilies were, so obviously I asked her if I could borrow her small child to sit on a lily...

Needless to say, this did not go down too well, so this is the best I could do:



Anyway, whilst in that neck of the woods, my friends and I went to Diggerland! (Watch out, there's annoying muzak on that site. Bastards.) I was driving a JCB, which was brilliant.



Well worth a visit - for kids of all ages. One of the gang was doing so well at digging holes, the chap told him to fill it back in... I was amazed at some really small kids being allowed to drive some fairly large plant around the site... Don't tell the Health & Safety fascists.

So, with all this done, I headed back to Embra yesterday morning on the National Express East Coast service, first class, natch. I had to evict someone from my seat, which was a pain, but then, I had gone to the trouble of reserving the seat, and he was clearly a chancer. There's always one. That and there wasn't nearly enough coffee served on the train back home.

Normal angry ranting will resume shortly.

Air show? No show!

I was at Leuchars on Saturday there to see XH558 fly. That's a Vulcan bomber, for the people who don't follow this sort of thing... Possibly the last chance to see her.



Sadly, the weather was shite. As a result, the Vulcan did not fly due to not enough V for VFR. Just as well there wasn't a war on or anything. Bastards. How did this country ever manage to be great?

I did see the Red Arrows though. Again.



And whiles the Red Arrows are great, it's not as if we haven't seen them before - they do get around you know?

I was bitterly disappointed, nay, raging fucking mad, that the Vulcan wasn't allowed to fly. pesky weather and civil rules. Damned uncivil if you ask me. They did at least allow her to taxi up to rotation speed, which was nice, since the noise that the Rolls Royce Olympus engines make would make you think that God was angry.

I was last at Leuchars when I was a wee boy, so this was still a fantastic day out, even with the gash weather, and I'll certainly try to get along again next year.

Wendy Alexander and "Natural Justice"

I was reading the Metro this morning, as I was suffering my daily drag to work on the trains, and read the article on pg 4 about Wendy not being banned from the wee pretendy parliament.

So, the (low) standards committee recommended that she be barred for 1 day for failing to register the donations she received to her leadershit campaign.

The pretendy parliament then voted 70 to 49 to not ban her for 1 day.

Wendy describes the result as "a victory for the law, for natural justice and for common sense".

I can't believe the cheek of it. She's sucking down OUR tax money as a public servant, fucking us by not playing by the rules, and she has the cheek to tell us that was a victory for the law? Common sense in that place has been sorely lacking for a hell of a long time.

In my rather angry opinion, a victory for natural justice would be that cunt swinging from a lamppost.

Edinburgh is a shite place to live...

It's official.

The BBC reports that the happiest places to live have been mapped out.

"Edinburgh, despite its cosmopolitan reputation and internationally acclaimed fringe festival, was bottom of the list."

That would be because there are hardly any locals in the city... And those folk who do live here, have to battle through hordes of tourist filth clogging up the streets for one month of constant fireworks, flyers and irritating cunts talking about how great their show is, would you like a free ticket?

"Staying in an area for five years or longer was an important indicator of well being, said the scientists."

Edinburgh will have a lot of transient student types (the ones I complain about coming here, voting Labour, and second vote green, and fucking off again.) So this will add weight to the <5 years lot. I came here as student filth in 1996, and left (after graduation) for a brief spell of steak, weak beer and guns in Austin, Texas. I came back though.

And here I still am. And I am here because Edinburgh is actually a great place to live. Great socially, great to catch up with pals after work for a pint. Great to wander round the city, soak in the atmosphere, architecture and ambience... (When you can get moving when the tourists are away).

The trouble with living in Edinburgh is continually being bent over and fucked by the cuntcil. Who know better than everyone...

"Objectors ... have claimed it could jeopardise the city's World Heritage site status."

Didn't the chaps who came to visit us from UNESCO say this themselves?

Edinburgh's design champion Sir Terry Farrell told BBC Scotland: "Edinburgh is changing, it is becoming a bigger city in every sense, it's being recognised as a force in urban cities in Europe and in Great Britain."

Edinburgh has always been a great city historically... We know these things, we live here... The question is - do you? Do you use public transport in the city? Do you walk anywhere in the city? Do you talk to people who actually live and work here?

Do you fuck.

"It also has the tram and the waterfront, these are big changes."

Big changes? Big disruptions. Big waste of money.

We don't have trams. We've got fucking massive holes in the road. We have roadworks. We have ambulances delayed at junctions due to shite traffic management in the troubled times. We've got listed buildings being demolished. We've got businesses up in arms due to massive restrictions on loading and unloading - reductions in custom due to these works.

You can shove the trams right up your arse. And if you like the waterfront so much, fuck off and live there yourself. You'll find the bus service is well adequate, no trams necessary, thanks very much. You'll find that the whores like the area too.

It would be nice if the council asked the people what they wanted, rather than taking unilateral decisions on the behalf of the political classes in the city.

Edinburgh defends cycling plans

According to the BBC:

"City of Edinburgh Council has responded to criticism from Chris Hoy by reiterating its desire to create a new cycling facility in Scotland's capital."

O RLY?

"But we do need external assistance to pay for it. The ideal situation would be that a new cycling facility is in place before the Meadowbank track is taken down and that is what we will aim for."

Now here's a novel idea.

Take the money that you're spunking up the wall on trams that are completely fucking useless, and are currently crippling the city, spend it on a velodrome, and do something with the change... Like give us a fucking break.

Really, it's not rocket surgery.

Escalation

I was in my friend's pub last weekend, enjoying a pint and a chat with the delightful barmaids, when in walks in some pished guys.

I was interfering with the jukebox, putting some more Led Zep on, when one of the chaps came over and drunkenly told me not to change the music.

"I put this on, of course I am not going to change it" was my reply. He asks me how tall I am, he asks me some other random stuff. He then asks me if I have ever lost a fight.

*ding* *ding* *ding*

I was somewhat bemused by this, and told him I had never been in a fight before, so didn't know. (Not entirely true, but that doesn't make me a bad person).
He eventually fucked off up the back of the pub with his pal and his pint.

My pint is almost finished, so I order another, and I mention to the barmaid that I would keep an eye on those two, since they're more drunk than I am. (And I am not about to make a cunt of myself in a pal's pub). I return to reading the paper, listening to Led Zep, and drinking my pint.

Jukebox man returns, with half his pint, and starts drunkenly waffling at me. He then starts turning the pages of my paper. I explain that he's being rude, and go back to mostly ignoring him since his patter is pish, and reading the paper. He's blabbering on about something, and then he sticks his finger in my ear.

What the fuck just happened there.

Once is accidental. "Hey hey" said I, and not in a Herschel Krustofsky sort of way.

So I return to drinking and reading, and then I feel this finger in my ear again.

Twice is suspicious. I tell him to behave himself, and that he's not funny.

Fuck me, that's his finger a third time. Three times is enemy action. His arm was up his back and his body twisted forward far enough to have his head be close to the bar before his finger made contact with my ear. (I only held him with one hand, so it wasn't a particularly good wrist lock, but it served its purpose).

"What the fuck is your game. Cut that out forthwith, otherwise I'll break your fucking arm."

He seemed to get the message, his pal, by this time had come down from the back of the pub, and I told him to finish their drinks and take jukebox man away, which he did.

When did it become socially acceptable to stick your finger in a stranger's ear? Particularly when the stranger is the biggest guy in the bar?
Particularly when the stranger is me?
It's just as well for him I am such a happy go-lucky chap.

I think I might have start some classes for people regarding acceptable behaviour in public.