The Great Big Xmas and New Year Blog Entry

Hello all. As it's nearly Christmas, very soon various family members will be arriving to celebrate the birth of Gandhi, or something. And just when I'll be ready to throttle them all and shoo them away, we'll have to put up with them for New Year as well. The upshot of this is that I won't be lingering around on Blogger too much from now until 2010.

SO here's my mega Christmas and New Year blog entry. I'll probably miss stuff out, but whatever. For this blog post, here is my brief and pathetic review of the year:

Man of the Year - Barack Obama

Easy one this, let's be honest. The comparisons with his electoral win and Blair's 1997 win still trouble me, but it truly was remarkable to see the scenes the night Obama was announced as the winner. A win for every African American? Definitely. A win for every Democrat? Obviously. A win for everyone in the rest of the world? We'll wait and see.

Woman of the Year - Joanna Lumley

At the time, the Government was getting a battering from seemingly all corners, and it was never more apparent than Lumley's uprising on behalf of the Gurkha's. I don't think I've cringed so much, watching minister Phil Woolas wilt next to her at that impromptu press conference.

She had an advantage in her campaigning, of course - being a famous personality - but her bloody mindedness and determination eventually won through. I am proud of her, I am proud of the Gurkha's.

Band of the Year - Chew Lips

I bloody love them, even if my friends laugh at me.

Record of the Year - "Deli" by Delorean

Honourable mentions to "Solo" by Chew Lips and Taken By Trees' version of "Sweet Child O' Mine".

Quote of the Year - Mike Wilbon from "Pardon The Interruption"

"I believe Dan Snyder wants to win. I also want to break 70 on the golf course but it's not gonna happen."

Sportsperson of the Year - Valentino Rossi

This guy really needs some more credit from the press. 2009 saw him win his 9th motorcycling Grand Prix World Championship, and he's now 2nd in the list for all-time race wins. Formula One has the glitz and glamour, and attention, but this guy is truly something else, and doesn't deserve to be as shunned as he is.

TV Moment of the Year - Top Gear

The best programme on TV just keeps on getting better.

At this part of the review of the year, I want you to stop reading, and take 5 minutes out to watch that video. The camera work is outstanding. The location is breathtaking. The car is beautiful. The purr of that V12 engine is to die for. The music is haunting. The message is powerful. Just incredible.

Worst TV Show of the Year - "We Need Answers" (BBC4)

Excruciatingly bad. I downloaded an episode of it onto my iPlayer. I like Mark Watson. I like both of the guests (Miranda Hart and Ian McMillan). I like light-hearted quiz shows. I deleted it after about 7 minutes of watching through my fingers.

Honourable mentions to "Big Top" and "The Execution of Gary Glitter".

Sorry To See You Leave Us In 2009

Dave Dee

David Vine

Patrick McGoohan

Tony Hart

John Updike

Bill Frindall

Wendy Richard

Natasha Richardson

Nick Adenhart

Harry Kalas

Sir Clement Freud

Michael Jackson

Farrah Fawcett

Karl Malden

Arturo Gatti

Harry Patch

Sir Bobby Robson

Patrick Swayze

Keith Floyd

David Shepherd

Ewar Woowar

Eddie Fatu

Chris Henry

Brittany Murphy

Best Advert of 2009 - Hugo Boss

(wipes drool off mouth)

Chump of the Year - Tiger Woods

Cheating on a Swedish bikini model? Wow.

Joke:

"What's Elin Nordegren getting for Xmas?"

"Half of everything!"

Most Pointless Letter Writer of the Year - Three Way Tie

Congratulations to J Wendy Slark, Bob Wydell and Allan Tucker.

Best Photo of the Year

Most Homo-Erotic Moment of the Year

Best Blog of the Year - Cynical Ben

http://cynicalben.blogspot.com/

Best Blog Entry of the Year - Dan

http://thiswayfortrouble.blogspot.com/2009/06/ive-tear-in-my-eye.html

Worst Blog Entry of the Year - The Plashing Vole

http://plashingvole.blogspot.com/2009/11/autumnal-friday-conundrum.html

I mean, really.

Best Blog Commenter of the Year

The mysterious "Mr Table", who wishes for a Steve Flack to become President.

Twat of the Year - Phil Brown

Football Moment of the Year - Kiko Macheda

Goal(s) of the Year - Cristiano Ronaldo

Hottie of the Year - Pixie Lott

UK News Story of the Year - MPs Expenses

Which is set to rumble on, and on, and on...

Man Most Nervous About 2010

Gordon Brown....or is it now David Cameron?

Film of the Year

"Up" - at least according to Dan. I don't think I've actually seen a good film this year.

I am sure there are many more categories, but that will do for now. If I've missed out anything glaringly obvious or feel I'm wrong about something - please comment. I'll ignore it, but, you know.

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!

SEE YOU IN 2010!

In The Hot Seat

Let's take a quick look at a letter into last night's Sloppy Star. It's from regular writer, Allan Tucker from Oswestry, and it attempts to tackle an interesting topic:

There has been some controversy about whether global warming is taking place.

Correct. I watched an interesting debate about this a few days ago, and I found myself in agreement with Michael Portillo.

Yes, you read that right. I'm as shocked/surprised/angered as you are. But "Bear With!" as that woman in 'Miranda' says.

Global warming is certainly an interesting debate. I would reckon about 80% of scientists say it's happening, but not ALL are in agreement. At this moment in time, I am sceptical. There is a good argument that Earth has gone through radical temperature differences before, and this is simply happening again and is nothing to do with human hand. That does appeal to my belief that Mother Nature knows what's it doing, I'll admit. And Dennis Miller made a good point the other night, albeit in a humorous way - how accurate were the findings 100 years ago? Accurate enough to really pay attention to them?

However I certainly keep an open mind on this, and would be happy to lose my cynical side. If the clever bods can conclusively prove that we're fucking up the globe, then it's time to act, and act bloody quickly. It won't be nice, but necessary. Whatever your opinion though, an interesting discussion can be had. Let's see what Allan can bring to the table.

PricewaterhouseCoopers says that its research highlighted the need for carbon reduction.

Interesting, what were their findings?

That, together with the fact that most scientists and governments agree, is enough for me. Global warming is taking place.

Oh, that's that then? Fair enough. Let me just go and get some solar panels eh?

2/3

Let's just round this nonsense off before Christmas. You may remember a few weeks back I gave the opportunity for my readers to suggest a topic for me to blog about. I've tackled Dan's suggestion, so let's now have Cynical Ben's:

Benjamin Judge said...

Straw hats. Good or bad?

Short answer - Very good.

Long answer - Straw hats for me are wonderfully English. They bring to my mind a perfect summers day, and an English gentleman enjoying a spot of cricket somewhere beautiful like Arundel. He has a picnic, with the egg sandwiches, scones and Pimms. His wife is wearing a flowery dress. Their son will be sitting quietly, absorbing the cricket, whilst their daughter will be making daisy chains and sipping ginger beer.

His name will be something like Quentin de Forrest, and he'll politely applaud as the opening batsman passes 50. He'll vote Conservative, as he knows he can't trust Labour with his money, which he has plenty of, as he's a high-quality conveyancer. He's the kind of person who Nigel Havers has based his whole acting career on.

But the most important thing about him? The thing that sums up his Englishness? It's the straw hat, my friends. It is the straw hat.

A perfect hat, for the perfect English gentleman. We praise thee, straw hats!

O Happy Day!

Midnight has just passed, meaning it is now Sunday 13th December 2009.

It is my birthday.

I am not dating the girl I wish I could. United lost at home. The weather is cold, wet and horrible. I have to do another sodding WOLF post before midnight tonight.

However, I have a bar of Cadbury's Dairy Milk, and I'm watching pool.

Happy bloody Birthday, me.

A Moral Dilemma

Hello folks,

Earlier today I had a text message discussion with my best friend, which lead to an interesting 20 minute or so debate a bit later on the subject. I've been thinking about it a bit more tonight, and so I've decided to blog about it and see what you guys think.

Let me tell you the full story.

When I was at secondary school, I had a handful of good friends, and then quite a few people who I considered as friends but weren't particularly close to, even though they had been in my friend "circle" throughout school and throughout 6th Form College . One of whom was a lad called Charles, a guy who I sat next to in quite a few classes, shared a love of Afroman with, and generally got on well with. Not best buddies, but friends.

After we finished 6th Form College, and went our separate ways, something happened with Charles. I feel a bit uncomfortable typing it out here, so I'm going to link you to the story itself - as it's out in the public domain, and the court case has finished, I see no problem in doing this:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/wales/north_west/5238482.stm

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/wales/north_west/5324288.stm

I have not spoken to Charles since we left college, and haven't seen him either.

So, here's the moral dilemma. He's popped up on my Facebook home page, under a little box saying "People you may know" and inviting me to add him as a friend. I have no wish to do so, and quite frankly I neither want to see him or talk to him ever again. However this little box also tells me that 3 of my Facebook friends have befriended him (you following this?) ie. We now have "3 mutual friends". One of which is my friend I mentioned earlier.

I sent him a text earlier, telling him I was surprised he added him. When he enquired why, I made the point that I could never forgive him for what he did, and getting in touch with him again would, in a weird way, almost be condoning his actions. My friend texted me back with a very eloquent and intelligent text, and here it is, in full:

"I suppose that's the difference between you and me. Whilst I don't condone what he did, it's not like he raped someone or touched up kids. He has been prosecuted and has to live with that shame for the rest of his life. He has never wronged me, and was a good friend to me at secondary school. As a Catholic, it is not for me to cast judgement on him."

I understand his point, but my response was that by his actions, which were deliberate, calculated and methodical, he has put himself up to be judged. We may not like to judge someone, but if we don't than what happens? No criminal would ever be punished. He was a friend of mine as well, but to me that is now irrelevant. And whilst he did not rape someone, or touch up children, he also committed a crime that has led to him being placed on the Sex Offenders List for 10 years. That should signal to everyone the serious nature of what he did.

I've typed all that up because I would like your thoughts. Whilst I'm not religious, should I be "more Catholic", and be quicker to forgive? Should I get in touch with him, and tell him how I feel - although how would that help any? Or should I just continue to blank him out of my life and carry on regardless?

I'd be interested to see what you think, it's an interesting one.

What. The. Fuck.

People who have completed the internet like me will know that a common abbreviation is WTF, standing for, indeed, "What The Fuck". In light of that, here's a video I've just seen:

WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF

Busy Busy Busy

Sorry I haven't been blogging much lately, but it's all go here at Lovejoy Towers. Over the next few days I have to:

• Contribute to a group presentation and project.
• Organise 'Gary Wilmot's Tablecloth Diary' (don't ask)
• Help Little Ewar with his homework, and his costume for his Nativity play on Wednesday evening.
• Find a new Ana Ivanovic desktop background.
• Complete Lego Indiana Jones on the XBox.
• Play Facebook poker (an addiction, tbf)
• Buy Xmas presents
• Buy birthday presents....for me. (I'm not joking either)
• Try and do some exercise before the late December eating splurge.
• Do a WOLF posting.

Actually, let's do that WOLF posting now, get it out of the way. Let's have the question please!

[De Quincey’s] narrative persists in oscillating uneasily between affirmation and admonition: dreaming itself is seen as both prophetic and Satanic; while Miltonic allusions place the Imagination first in heaven or paradise, then in hell or the fallen world… It plays on the drawing together of imaginative worlds – the paradise within of beatific vision, and the unfathomable hell within of suffering’. – Lucy Newlyn

Yeah, slight problem. The problem being that I understand about TWO FUCKING WORDS of that. And I gave up on the book on Page 20 because it was pompous, pseudo-intellectual shit. I'm off to copy Shaun's posting, and then do other stuff that needs to be done today (watch football). I'll be back soon with a post about straw hats! I haven't forgotten!

Oh God, He's Back

Remember our old friend Alwyn Cox from Oswestry? He's back, kids, and he's even grumpier than usual. Whilst this latest letter into the Sloppy Star isn't particularly interesting, it's made me laugh enough to blog about it. Cynical Ben - fear not! I have not forgotten the straw hats blog. Oh no! But let's have a look at this letter first:

Dear council employees, if any of you find it necessary to contact me by telephone again do not have the temerity to hide behind a withheld number.

Useful letter this. Thanks for writing this in to the local newspaper, and not the council themselves.

If you need to withhold your number for whatever self important reason you have given yourself to justify doing so, then you must tell me who I am speaking to before I tell you if you have contacted the person you wish to speak to.

I have a slight problem here. This Morning has just started, featuring the lovely Holly Willoughby. I currently have man flu, meaning I have a box of tissues next to me. We also have workmen in, and one of them has just walked in to ask me something whilst I'm sitting here in my pyjamas, watching Holly Willoughby with a box of tissues next to me. You do the math.

Don't you dare ever again phone me on my personal phone and expect me to identify myself to an anonymous voice.

Are you still banging on? Jesus, we get the point.

If you phone me, you tell me who you are before I speak to you.

Is it just me, or is this breathtaking arrogance?

The woman that phoned me on Thursday found that she had to identify herself pretty quickly before I cut her off.

That's one way to interact with a woman. Another good one is to kick her in the fanny. Trust me on that one, Alwyn.

Only when I knew who I was speaking to did I tell her that she was speaking to the intended person. It would have been much better if she had identified herself the moment that I answered the call. Better manners also.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Try something like the following - "Good after-noon. I am Mrs So-and-so speaking from Shirehall. Can I please speak to Mr Cox?"

Breath taking. I literally do not know what to say about this anymore.

Good manners do not take a lot of brain power.

End of letter. Wow. The funny thing is Alwyn, I'm half-tempted to agree with you, if you weren't being such a pompous buffoon about it.

Next week in Alwyn's letter - how a waitress should serve him correctly!

1/3

A few days ago I agreed to whore out my blog for you loyal readers, and invited you to leave words/comments/phrases/places/names of anything you wanted, which I then promised to blog about. Many thanks for the people who have commented so far - if you haven't, and wish to, there is still time! Drop me a comment on the blog entry below and I'll endeavour to blog about the subject of your choice.

Anyhow, here's my reaction to the first comment that was left. Let's have a look-see:

Dan said...

Ten reasons why you love that Drinking In LA song by that Bran Flakes 9000 shower so much. Ta.

Aha! Nice and easy. Thanks Dan, although I'll think you'll find you mean Bran Van 3000!

1) First of all, the band name is awesome. I mean, c'mon - Bran Van 3000. That is brilliant. Much better than rubbish names like Snow Patrol. Red Hot Chilli Peppers. Dogs Die in Hot Cars.

2) I'm a huge fan of 'One Hit Wonders', and despite being a huge fan of this song, I cannot name another Bran Van song, nor have I ever listened to one. I don't think they ever had any other hits, which just tickles me.

3) I love the start - the mundane nature of radio phone-in quizzes. "What is Todd's favourite cheese", it sums up the banality of them beautifully.

4) The line "Jackie just called up and said it was a form of Roquefort" always reminds me of my personal tutor, the greatest personal tutor you could ever wish to have. (PLUG - If you have Facebook, please sign up to The Official Jackie Pieterick Appreciation Thread - Dan and I would appreciate that as we're trying to get to 100 fans. Ta.)

5) The song has given me the phrase "Give us a ring-ding-ding!" which I tend to leave on people's answer machines.

6) It references Julie Newmar, a woman who every boy who's watched the TV series of Batman has fantasised over.

7) The chorus pretty much sums up things that we all think, at one point or another - "Why am I here?" "What am I doing?" "Should I be doing something better with my time?" etc. You can relate to the self-reflection and internal questioning.

8) It features the word 'butkis'. C'mon.

9) I like the way at the end of the song, "LA" becomes "Hell-A". Very simple, but pretty accurately sums up what I would make of that city.

10) It's awesome, okay?

That good enough for you Dan?

ADDENDUM - It turns out that blog readers are now not showing my latest blog entries at all. Looking at other blogs, they're all saying my last post was a week ago, which is inaccurate. SO my only advice to you is to keep on popping by and manually check to see if I've blogged. After all, I wouldn't want you missing out on my next blog post, where I debate whether straw hats are good or bad...

Seeing isn't Believing

Morning all. Thanks for the comments in my last blog post, and I'll get round to tackling all of them very soon. If you wish to take part, there's still time! Just leave me a comment.

But for now I wish to look at a letter that was sent into Wednesday's Sloppy Star. Bit of a change of theme here folks - it's not about the EU, nor Afghanistan, nor the BNP. It's about something far more important than those issues, and is something that particularly applies to the people of Shropshire. Let's have a look at the title of your letter, A Harrison from Mucky Wenlock!

X Factor judge Cowell should change name

Are you excited? I'm excited!

Spot on Shirley.

I've no idea what the start to his letter means, but insert your own "Airplane" based joke here.

When X Factor judge Simon Cowell failed to dismiss the twins, John and Edward, after slating them week after week, shows when push comes to shove, he chickens out. Perhaps his name should be changed to Simon Coward.

What you did there - I see it.

In not dismissing the Deadwoods

What you did there - I see it.

he got rid of the best female singer, Lucie Jones (Stacey Solomon has no chance).

YOU HEAR THAT, SOLOMON? Fuck off, yeah? You have literally no chance, you tone-deaf bitch. Forget the fact that Paddy Power, William Hill, Ladbrokes all have you second favourite in the betting. Might as well walk before you're pushed, honey. IT IS OVER.

Could it be that after female singers winning the last two shows there is a vacancy for a male singer this year?

I'll address this in a bit. Mainly because you're stumbling on the point, but you're not quite there.

If one does win I wonder who will sign him up?

No need to wonder anymore Mr Harrison! The answer is Simon Cowell.

It makes you wonder if the whole show is rigged.

It is. Now that you've finished your letter Mr Harrison, make yourself a cup of tea and pull a chair up. I need to explain a few things to you.

When I was at primary school I had a friend who's parents were divorced. He lived with his Mum down on the South Coast, whilst his Dad lived and worked in London. He worked "in TV", and his job was mainly to recruit people to appear on various TV programmes. Most of the time these people were part-time actors looking to make a few quid. I remember having a good laugh with him when Vanessa Feltz got in trouble for having actors on her "agony aunt" show, as he knew more than anyone else that all similar shows at the time were doing exactly the same.

That was late-90s, but the con still goes on. Channel 5 quiz 'Brainteaser' was taken off air after they had a "viewer" phone in to win some cash, who just happened-oops!-to be someone who worked behind the scenes on the show. Even the hallowed 'Blue Peter' got in trouble a few years back for ignoring a public vote and calling their new cat what they wanted it to be called.

What's the point I'm trying to make here, you wonder? Well, the point is that TV is an interesting medium, as most times what you see certainly isn't what you get. And that leads me back onto X-Factor. I absolutely hate the programme, as I can see through it.

It is nothing more than a money spinning machine for Simon Cowell, who preys on young people's hopes and dreams with scant regard for them or their careers. Mr Harrison, you are wrong in thinking that as females have won the show these past few years, it has to be a male this time around. The winner of the X-Factor this year will be the artist who can make Simon Cowell the most money. Male, female, alien, wookie, whoever. Please don't think the phone vote makes any difference either. Simon Cowell will pick the winner, as Simon Cowell does not give a shit about you. And once he's made his money being the producer of the X-Factor, and he's milked the artist for as much as he can, he won't give a shit about them either.

Sad, isn't it? And it won't change until you all do the right thing - turn that shit off.

Opening the Floor

I'll be honest, I have nothing to blog about. Nowt. Nil. Nada. The letters into The Shropshire Star have been dull. I've calmed down a bit. No-one else famous has died (yet).

So, here's an idea. I'm going to whore out my blog to you, my loyal readers. If you want me to blog about something, leave a comment here.

You could possibly choose just one word - ie. "cheese", "love", "confabulation".

Maybe a person - "Biggles", "Joe Cole", "Albrecht von Hohenzollern".

Maybe a place - "New York", "Telford", "Addis Ababa".

Pop a comment down, and I'll blog about it. Promise.

In Memoriam

Oh dear, just when I had stopped thinking about death, another one bites the dust.

What can you say about Edward Woodward? The inspiration behind my username. The star of The Equalizer. The lead actor in the 2nd worst film of all time, The Wicker Man. The amusing little turn he did in Hot Fuzz. The roles in The Bill and Eastenders.

No words can reflect my sorrow at this moment, but luckily, help is at hand. E.J.Thribb stayed over last night to watch the NFL, and he has just awoken. I am passing the baton to him, to have the final word on this splendid man:

So. Farewell then Edward Woodward

He who played The Equalizer

I'm now going to drink in your memory

A lovely can of Tizer

E.J.Thribb 14 1/3

Perspective

After whinging on at you all on Monday night, something happened this morning which has given me pause for thought.

I was finishing off my breakfast (Bovril on toast, as usual) when a helicopter flew over my house. This isn't unusual, but this one sounded like it was about to scrape our roof off, and it was scarily low. Instead of heading over to the hospital, as all the others do, it disappeared below some trees, close by.

I thought no more about it, and packed my bag ready to head into university and finish off the worst essay of all time. I live at the top of a great big hill, and when I began to start the descent downhill I stopped for a moment, as right at the bottom of the hill I could see 3 ambulances and 5 police cars. Oh-oh. I ambled down, managed to duck under the police cordon and surveyed the scene. And then promptly wished that I hadn't.

I've just sat here and wondered if I should tell you the details, as it seems a bit heartless doing it on a blog. But I figure that I've told some people already today, and the details are easily accessible on the internet.

A Peugeot and a motorbike had had a fight, and the guy on the bike clearly hadn't won. The Peugeot had a damaged front, whilst the bike was completely written off. Amongst the glass and the blood sprayed all over the road, ambulance crews were giving CPR to a figure who, luckily, was shaded from my view by a thick blanket that was covering him. I stood in shock for a few moments, than a policeman came and politely moved me on. All the roads had been closed off, so I walked through the park, right past the helicopter. So that's where it landed.

On the train coming over to Wolverhampton I couldn't think of anything else, and even though I tried to remain positive for the man, I knew it was unlikely. A few hours later I read on the internet that he was taken to the hospital, where he was pronounced dead.

Part of me wants to add this to the list of reasons why I want 2009 to end right now. But another part of me thinks that if ever there was a moment to consider your own mortality, seeing a person dying in front of you is pretty much it. I am lucky to be alive. Regardless what happens with essays, girls, finances, sport, family and everything else. We are lucky to be alive.

In case you desperately want to know where I live:

http://www.shropshirestar.com/2009/11/12/accident-motorcyclist-dies/

Going for Gold

Afternoon all. First off, thanks for the nice comments on my last blog entry. I feel fine at the moment, just Monday evening was a particularly horrible Monday evening to conclude a really horrible day. The weather hasn't improved, although my outlook has slightly.

I say slightly, because something else this morning has made me sad, although this time no-one is blaming me for anything. I thought I'd take a moment out from writing the worst essay ever to share it with you.

Cash for Gold. You've seen the adverts on t'tele, and you've scoffed, and wondered who would be stupid enough to send off their gold. Well, this morning in the post we got a Cash for Gold flyer. I was about to put it straight in the bin, when something on it caught my eye, and just made me feel a bit glum:

The irony of this flyer landing in our porch on November 11th is hopefully not lost on you. I'd rather die than hand over any war medals my forefathers earned in battle to these conmen, and I am slightly ashamed that other people do/would consider doing so.

Is this just me, or do others die a little when they see stuff like this?

Fuck My Life

Oh dear readers, it's been a bad day for Ewar today.

In fact, it's been a bad year, and it's only got worse. It seems lately that everybody is shitting on me, and making me out to be a bad guy. I don't think I am, although now I'm doubting myself.

My bad year started in January, funnily enough. After recovering from the noro virus, I had a clear plan in my mind. I had been going crazy over a girl at my uni for a few months, and so I decided to gamble and ask her out. Amazingly, she said yes, and the date went okay-ish. I wasn't great, was too wracked with nerves to be funny or charming, but I didn't feel it had been a disaster.

Once she had departed on her bus, I walked to the train station to get the train home, and on it I sat down across from a former teacher of mine, and someone I admire and respect. He asked me how I was, and suddenly a real burst of happiness hit me, for the first time in a long, long time. I grinned and told him I was doing great. And I was.

I had left a job that, towards the end, I hated. I was loving uni. I had made some decent friends. I had experienced the holiday of a lifetime with a mate in the US. And I had met the girl I thought was perfect for me, and *gasp* had actually spoken to her. Life was good.

And then it all went a bit wrong, and on February 14th she emailed me to say she wasn't interested. Happy Valentine's Day! I know she'll be reading this. It's not your fault I've had a shit year, and please don't think I'm blaming you in any way. I just need to vent tonight.

University lost it's lustre. Essays and reading became a chore, and I stopped going to lectures, a decision partly caused by a German pillock of a lecturer who clearly wishes the Motherland was still being led by that chap with the moustache.

Twitter became a problem. One night some guy who I had become "online friends" with overreacted to something I said and called me a moron. I was pissed off so I and a friend said offensive things about him, and I let him have both barrells. He blocked me. Probably fair, that one. But now tonight, a friend of his thought I had insulted her, after I had jokingly called her "a weirdo" for writing essays on paper and not typed on a computer. She's now blocked me and told me to "fuck off". Not fair, really, that one.

I don't know if you'll read this Helene, but if you do - I meant that in a jokey way, I wasn't trying to insult you at all. I'm sorry if you were offended.

Also tonight I've also had an argument with my parents. I'll be honest, this happens about once a month anyway, but tonight it just seems more raw and more vicious than before. So, as you've probably guessed, I feel very down tonight, and I feel like telling someone to wake me up when 2010 starts, so I can leave this year behind for good.

I've never felt like I'm a bad person. Most of the time I'm placid and quiet, but I have a streak in me that when the red mist comes down, I find it impossible not to lash out, and can't hold my tongue. The rest of the time, I'm horrified if I ever offend anyone, and never look for trouble.

Like I said at the top, I just feel like everyone is ganging up on me, and it's me fighting the tide on my own all the time.

Probably best if I stop now, although I still don't feel much better after typing all this. Thanks for reading, if you do, anyway. If you don't think I'm a dick, thankyou. If you do, I'm tired of arguing. Maybe you are right.

How Can I Stop Watching This?

Hey, Ewar, why bother reading Milton when you can watch this over and over again? Milton sucks!

Why, thankyou Procrastination, I think I will watch this video once again! You're too kind.

Anyone fill in any gaps in terms of where the clips come from? Currently I have:

Freaks

Ghostbusters

School of Rock

The Simpsons

South Park

The Godfather

Robocop

Sesame Street

Back to the Future

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

Silence of the Lambs

Seinfeld

Night at the Museum (?)

2001: A Space Odyssey

Star Wars

The Prisoner

Citizen Kane

Knight Rider

On the Waterfront

Rainbow

Pirates of the Caribbean

Airplane

Top Gun

Family Guy

Moomins

30 Rock (?)

Zoolander

Naked Gun

The Fast Show

Jaws

Anchorman

Cars

WALL-E (?)

Ferris Bueller's Day Off

This is Spinal Tap

Big Lebowski (?)

Adventures in Greendale

I've teased you with this, and despite wanting to give it a few days, I can't resist it any longer. My fingers are literally itching, although that may just be a fungal infection. So, without any more babble, let us look at a letter into Monday's Shropshire Star, penned by the splendid Alwyn Cox from Oswestry. For any new readers (Hannah) - Alwyn's letter will be in a bold font, my responses in this normal font. Let's do this thing.

So now the shopkeepers in Ellesmere are complaining that the arrival of Tesco has damaged their businesses and caused job losses.

This is unfortunate, and is a sign of the times. Whether you like it or not though, it is true.

This is not true.

Oh, okay.

The workers at Tesco do not stand in the high street and kidnap customers and force them to buy Tesco products.

Not true Alwyn! I was once walking past Tesco when an employee rugby tackled me to the ground and demanded that I went in and bought some bananas, a Tweenies DVD and a pack of large condoms. I did what I was told.

The free choice of the public allows them to shop where they want to shop.

I didn't have the heart to tell him I only need small ones.

They obviously choose to shop in Tesco. So it is the public that are damaging the small businesses because they do not want or need them. We live in a world of free markets. The consumer is king, and if they choose to shop in the likes of Tesco and Sainsbury then so be it.

This is not news, Alwyn. Nor is it particularly interesting. I'm going to need you to spice up this letter with something stupid - about anything. Cheese. Paul O'Grady. Post Offices. Whatever!

They have decided that they no longer want to tramp from the greengrocer to the butcher, then onto the grocer and newsagent hauling more and more packages with them as they go from warm to cold to warm moving from one shop to the next.

Get on with it.

They want the convenience of everything in one place, so they go to a supermarket.

I've just suddenly twigged what Alwyn is doing here. Yes, kids, he's read my blog about how to write/bullshit your way through an essay, and now he's practising with this letter! This is precisely what is happening here - there can be no other reason to just type a load of stuff that we all know and is completely unnecessary.

Alwyn, get crazy, and get crazy quick.

Same with the post office.

At last!

Who cares if they are closing? I don't.

Might just be the most egotistical sentence I have ever read, ever. And considering I sometimes read back my old blog entries, that takes some doing Alwyn.

I buy my car tax online. I do not need postal orders - you know, those funny things the post office sells that cost more than the object that they are used to pay for.

It gets worse kids.

If I need other currency I get it from a hole in the wall in the country that I am visiting, it is cheaper and I get it as I need it.

Enjoy being mugged.

I do not write letters on bits of paper, then shove them into other bits of paper, and then stick other bits of paper, that I would have to purchase, on to them only to have to tramp to a red box on the street corner, shove all these bits of paper into this box and hope that a man in uniform will come and collect my bits of paper and deliver them to the address that I have written on the front.

There is so much shit there I wouldn't know where to start. And I'm at university, pretending to be studying John Milton. Currently, I'm not sure who I hate more - Alwyn or Milton. It's a toughie. I particularly enjoy Alwyn taking 5 lines to describe writing a letter and posting it. He really has been reading my essay guide, clearly.

I'm just going to move on, because re-reading that just makes me even more annoyed. Also, I don't want Sue to take too long imagining a man in uniform. Have a sit down Sue!

He will not come, of course, because he has decided not to work as a way of protesting against progress, just like those whingers complaining about Tesco.

I'm tired of this nonsense. I'll leave that sentence for Vole to foam at the mouth about.

I send e-mails like this letter to the Star. I pay all my bills by direct debit or online banking. I buy all my clothes in online shops.

My grandmother is a 70 year old woman who lives on her own, and wouldn't know the internet if www.dutchgirlswithbigboobies.orgy slapped her round the face. For her, her local post office is crucial. And I'm 22, so I'm not one to hark back to "the good old days" but I'd be gutted if all post offices closed down. For many elderly people, they are important, and give them just a little feeling of community, as they go and socialise to the same people every week as they collect their pension. Not everyone has the internet.

If my shopping habits cause the demise of small over-expensive shops, then so be it. Turn them all into bistros, restaurants, pubs and housing.

Alwyn Cox's priorities in life, in order - Food. More food. Drink. Somewhere to live.

Turn the high streets into pedestrian zones with tables and chairs,

Could you not just move to Paris, please?

trees, and roundabouts for the kids to play on. Move with the times and enjoy life, stop harking on about how things used to be and look to how they will be.

I'm starting to get tired of this, and I do really need to do some actual work. I think the main problem here is that I'm not 100% sure who you are attacking, considering you've taken a scatter gun to a few different people and things.

That is what Tesco did. When I did a Saturday job in Tesco as a schoolboy over 40 years ago it was a little corner shop with all its goods still in boxes stacked on the floor. Look at it now. I would say it is doing something right, probably giving the public what it wants.

End of letter. I am dazed and confused.

I know this has been a really long entry, so if you couldn't be bothered to read all of that, I'm now going to provide you with a summary of Alwyn's letter:

I don't

I buy

I do not need

If I need

I get it from

I am visiting

I get it as I need it

I do not write letters

I would have to

I have written

I send e-mails

I pay all my bills

I buy all my clothes

If my shopping habits

I did a Saturday job

I would say

Me me me me me me me me FUCKING ME

Protocol

First of all, thanks for all the nice feedback about my last entry, the essay one. Many of you found it amusing, and thought I was joking. You've never read any of my essays, clearly.

Coming up on my blog over the next week or so will be an awesome video that I can't stop watching, and my analysis of possibly the most offensive, arrogant and ridiculous letter into The Shropshire Star I have ever read. Don't miss that one.

But now folks, it's time for some admin. Long-term readers, all two of you, will know that here at TRAROFTL, I adhere to one very simple rule. That if someone follows my blog, I'll link to their blog and give them a shout-out and a bit of free publicity here. Always have done that, always will.

I've thought for a little while about what to say here. In that time I've cleaned my nails, drank a whole bottle of Buxton water, listened to Alanis (I heart her, tbf. And her rendition of the US National Anthem last night at the baseball was awesome) and ate a bowl of cheese savouries.

And I still don't know what to say. So, just go and follow hltoffy over at:

http://hltoffy.blogspot.com/

Even though most of you reading this already do. I'd like to conclude this blog entry with a video for you. It's my favourite Tindersticks record:

How to Write an Essay

Alright, alright, settle down! Get that gum out of your mouth Sue, the bin is at the front.

Hello folks. For my sins, I've not been able to get to many lectures this academic year, so I thought I'd take the interesting step of taking a lecture myself. As the title shows, I am going to tell you how to write an essay, in the Ewar-style. Are you ready?

Ben and Aidan, stop whispering. If you have something to share, please share it with the class.

Okay, here we go. First of all, you've been slapped with a 2,000 word count. "Impossible!" you cry. "How am I going to write 2,000 words on a book that I don't like/half-read/don't care about Ewar?!"

Thanks for asking! Well A) I did it for "Wise Children", so it can be done, and B) Fuck the 2,000 words thing. Seriously. I'll explain how in due course.

Firstly, create a "header" and put your name and student number. It looks like you actually know what you're doing. You don't, of course, but perception is important.

Next, you're going to copy and paste the essay question you have chosen. You pretend this is so the marker knows easily what question it is you are doing. But of course that's bollocks - it's actually because we'll sneakily add it to the word count at the end. So the question is 83 words, word count is now down to 1,917 words. Lovely.

Daniel, if you don't remove those earphones and that iPod, I'll remove them myself and put them up somewhere you wouldn't like.

We now come to an introduction. You pretend the intro is there to make it clear what you'll be doing later on in the essay. Nah. It's actually just a paragraph of repeating the question in a slightly different way and not actually saying anything. Don't make it more than one paragraph - that will arouse suspicion. You need to keep the marker on your side for as long as you can.

Next. If you have a question that has technical terms in it - define them! Even if everyone knows what they are, define them, and ramble about them for a bit. Again, don't go overboard, but make sure you waste a good few words. That word count is ticking down, and you haven't said anything yet!

Mitchell, I believe that girl has a boyfriend. Please refrain from chatting her up in my time, thankyou.

Now we come to the tricky bit - actually writing about the book. There is no way we can get out of this, sadly. But what we can do is this. Have a maximum of 5 points. Tackle them one by one, and ramble. Not read the book? That's okay. Flick through it, you can find relevant quotes. If you can't, find any quote, and twist it as much as you can to make it relevant. Remember, we're adding those lovely quotes to our word count! Make sure you include academic words, and if desperate, put a quote and then basically just explain what it means, even though it's obvious what it means. Even more desperate? Phone a friend.

We're now going to have a 10 minute break, so if you do need to urinate/eat/masturbate/smoke/drink, now is the time. In appropriate places, obviously, not at your desk. Mitchell, you dirty git.

Welcome back class! Not long left now, don't worry.

So, you've battled your way through the main part of the essay. Congratulations - you've broken the back of it, and you're near the end. One final push okay? And our final push is known as the Conclusion!

For a conclusion, take two paragraphs, and point out what you already mentioned in the introduction, and then re-hash the best points you made. Don't worry about over-egging the pudding, by this time you've lost the marker. He either A) hates you or B) wishes for you to shut up or C) both!

Hoorah! You've almost finished. But, time to do some quick maths. Most lecturers allow you to be either 10% over/under the word limit. 10% of 2,000 is, by my reckoning, 200 words. Take that away from your 1,917, and that makes it 1,717 words. Splendid.

Still under? Go through the text - alter sentences so that you take 3 words instead of 1. Add unnecessary stuff. Maybe drop in another quote to "back up your argument" (add more words). Flesh out your introduction and conclusion. If all else fails - lie. Hell, they don't check.

That's it folks! I want you to all clear off, apart from you. Yes, you, the blonde with the low-cut top. I need you to come back to my office, so I can give you one. *pause* An essay question that is!

Folks, if you've enjoyed this lecture, I've been Ewarwoowar. If you haven't, I've been The Plashing Vole!

EDIT - I've just read that last bit again. That last sentence was a joke I've nicked off a lecturer, and is absolutely no way meaning that Voley would give a lecture like that, or indeed be inappropriate with a student. Don't take it the wrong way please folks!

Step Up to the Plate

That title reminds me that the World Series starts tonight, so much excitement abounds in the Woowar mind. It promises to be the most exciting World Series since I've started watching baseball, and so over the next few days I'll be getting about 3 hours sleep each night and binging on crisps, chocolate and cola.

HOWEVER, this isn't a baseball post, luckily for you. No, the title is a reflection on a comment O Cynical One left me a while back now. After looking at another barmy letter into my local newspaper, he suggested I "go national" and get a hold of The Metro paper. So yesterday, I did - I stole one off a train. I am a disgrace.

I'll be honest, the letters page is a bit disappointing, and in yesterday's edition there's only one letter that's a bit crazy, and it's not very long either. However, we can use it. It's time for Ewarwoowar to go national - step forward Steve from Edinburgh!

The mainstream political parties must love Nick Griffin MEP.

Steven, Steven, Steven. Steven McHaggis. Listen to you. You really think the mainstream political parties like this guy, and what he stands for? Seriously?

Let me assure you, they don't. I can only think that you've said that just because you're about to link it in with something entirely unrelated, say, expenses.

Let's face it, he has single-handedly managed to take the heat off them and the expenses scandal.

I amaze myself sometimes.

Anyone remember that?

Well, yes.

Call him what you will...

Really? Thanks! I think he's an appalling fucking cunt.

...but is he really any worse than those so-called honourable members ripping us off at every turn and continually treating us with contempt?

Yes he is. Can't believe I even have to say it.

Look, I hate to bang on about Jo Swinson, but as she talks to me on Twitter and I quite fancy her, I will. She "tweeted" the other day (how modern!) telling her followers that her 'Legg letter' had arrived, and she was one of the MPs who committed no wrongdoing - in her words, she had got "the all clear". We all know some MPs have been naughty, but it annoys me when people tar them with the same brush. There are lots of MPs who go into the job because they feel they can make a difference. Now, they are stupid thinking that, but their intentions are honest, and they are good, honest, hard-working people. The expenses thing happened - but it's time to cast a line under it and move on.

That's pretty much it for the letters page kids. However, I then thought I would flick through the rest of The Metro, and suddenly I got excited. Because this paper is an absolute goldmine for nonsense. I could barely contain my glee reading it.

I don't have enough space here to analyse all the shit I read, so I'm going to pick just one article I particularly enjoyed. See what you think. Please step forward, Tom Phillips!

And so we enter the inevitable, soul-destroying countdown to Christmas.

I was thinking about the bad moments of my past year. Here's the list so far:

1) Psychological problems.

2) The girl I'm crazy about not being interested in me.

3) Getting the Noro Virus.

4) Gerrard, Torres and company.

5) Failing a Uni module.

103,567) The countdown to Christmas.

Hardly soul-destroying.

It's at this special time when the entire world turns out to remind you that you're rubbish at buying presents for the ones you love - and thus barely qualify as a human being.

Never happened to me, to be honest. Maybe you are just rubbish.

But if you'd like to stave off another Christmas Eve at the petrol station forecourt wondering if Uncle Brian would like a discount CD featuring pan pipe covers of Bee Gee tunes,

He wouldn't. If you are that desperate, he would prefer a Ginsters pastie, I reckon.

you really should have a look at the rather excellent School of Everything.

Tell me about it please!

It's a website that helps match up people who have a skill they can teach with people who want to learn -

Splendid information, thanks.

sort of like a dating website, but for knowledge instead of sex.

But it will end up with sex, let's be honest.

And they've recently introduced a new gift feature that allows you to buy lessons for someone else. Lessons being offered range from improving your memory,

That will end in intercourse.

to bread-making

That will end in intercourse.

to learning how to tango

Particularly that.

to improving your memory.

You've already sai...oh. Tres drole.

And many first lessons are half-price.

And end in sex.

There's even a lesson in how to use Twitter

It's not that difficult.

which is almost certainly exactly what Great Aunt Hilda has been hoping you'll get her.

No it's not. Tom, I can't help thinking that you are actually a bit rubbish when it comes to presents - you don't seem to know your relatives very well anyway. Get Uncle Brian a pastie, get Great Aunt Hilda a warm blanket and some flowers and be done with it.

Note to myself - get hold of a copy of The Metro every day. That shit is awesome.

Facht Off!

'Sup? I love facts. Interesting facts, cool facts, little-known facts, wacky facts. Can't get enough of them, myself.

You want some facts about me? Well, thanks for asking!

• I'm related to The Corrs (apparently, never met them though, which is a shame. Apart from Jim Corr, couldn't give a stuff about him).
• I know every single word (including the dialogue at the start) of Bran Van 3000's "Drinking in L.A." off by heart.
• I wish Bruce Springsteen was my Dad.
• I am mentally ill.

Another fact about me is that apart from sports books and autobiographies, what I love reading the most is when idiots take two completely irrelevant things, compare them for no reason, then send their stupid comparisons into The Shropshire Star's letters page. Isn't that right, Bob Wydell from Oswestry?

We read in the Shropshire Star that the EU was due to renew it's habit of sticking it's nose into other countries' business by calling on the USA to abandon capital punishment, calling it an unacceptable denial of human dignity.

Which it is! Hoorah for the EU!

*Breaks out Party Poppers, stupid hats and unfurls large banner with "I fucking love the EU, I fucking hate capital punishment" written on it*

By the way, I'm listening to B*Witched. "Rollercoaster" = tune, and don't try to deny it.

In the same issue the Star reported that a youth, one of 5 who attacked and killed a 65-year-old man with hammers, was sentenced to 18 months' prison and released on the day he was sentenced, having spent 305 days on remand.

That fucking sucks. One of the things I hate about the UK nowadays - judges giving out stupid sentences. All 5 youths should have got a life sentence - and life should mean life.

As much as I enjoy their single "Blame it on the Weatherman" - I do think that is harsh. The guy is only trying to do his job, whatever the forecast. Who's your favourite weatherman? Mine's Fred from This Morning, I have to be honest.

One wonders what the EU thinks of the poor pensioner dying in this way, hammered to death by feral youths who then walk away with minimal punishment.

They probably feel the same about it as every normal, sane person does.

Is it not a cruel and inhuman practice to kill a man in this manner?

I've just had a quick think, and yes, I think it is cruel and inhumane. Point being?

Where was the victim's "human dignity" assessed?

It wasn't, because the people who carried out this attack are knuckle dragging thugs and not intelligent, rounded, sophisticated humans like me.

People are still murdered because the sentence is absurd and that applies across the whole spectrum of crime in this country.

Wrong. By the way, B*Witched were too sickly sweet for me. I've moved onto The Saturdays, mainly because I'm obsessed with Frankie Sandford.

Capital punishment was not repealed in Britain because it's citizens demanded it.

Sadly, this is true. It is a horrible fact (yay!) of life that here in the UK, if there was a referendum about the death penalty, more people would vote yay than nay. This is pretty much the one example which has influenced my thinking that the majority are not always correct. With love to de Tocqueville and Mill.

It was repealed by soft politicians

Southern jessies. Cowards, the lot of them. I believe Maggie Thatcher was scared by her own shadow. John Reid - cannot physically say boo to a goose. Gordon Brown only drinks shandy.

who are happy to accept the pay and perks of high office but less willing to accept the responsibilities.

I've moved onto The Heartbreakers. Listening to The Saturdays isn't the same as watching their videos, clearly.

Does their spineless repeal of capital punishment make us all safer? I think not.

Nice and topical anyway Bob. The death penalty was only overturned in the UK 11 years ago.

(end of letter)

If you can't be bothered to read all that, here's a quick summary of Bob's letter:

EU

Capital Punishment

Murder of man

B*Witched

Spineless politicians

Killing someone is really shitty behaviour - that's why we should employ people to kill more people!

"An eye for an eye only ends up making the whole world blind." - Gandhi.

Fantasy Football Leaderboard

Before the next round of games begin, and the leaderboard changes once again, let's have a quick peek at the table as it stands currently:

1) FATHEADZ BOYS FC (colby) 252 UP 2

2) Melchester Rovers (Daniel) 250 DOWN 1

3) Clunge FC (Dylan) 239 DOWN 1

4) Crem de la Prem (andy) 235 UP 2

5) Fantasy FC (Rob) 230 UP 2

6) Tommy Tank FC (Mitchell) 227 UP 2

7) Cynical Ben (Ben) 220 DOWN 2

8) Boddy Dazzler FC (Darryl) 214 DOWN 4

=8) IsJohnCarewElectric? (Shaun) 214 UP 4

10) The Lamplight Tandem (Jon) 210 SAME

11) Renford Rejects (Patrick) 204 DOWN 2

12) Warrior's XI (arun) 197 DOWN 1

13) Dynamo Sawyer (Richard) 187 UP 1

14) Miller-Urey XI (Don) 181 DOWN 2

Annoyed

This probably isn't a good idea, considering a) no-one wants to read a rant, and b) a university lecturer is reading this, but fuck it. I'm annoyed at the moment because I'm trying to register my modules for the upcoming university year.

But let's not worry about "registering" just yet. Oh no, we have to actually choose them first.

"What's the problem Ewar? Just choose the modules you want to do, easy!" I hear you cry. But no, that would be too fucking simple wouldn't it? I'm doing a joint degree of Creative Writing and English. Instead of just picking what I want to do, I have to pick modules from Lists A, B and C for each. No-one has ever explained why this is. Than you have to pick "electives" which seems to be "a few other weird things, and a choice of anything else you haven't already picked".

This splendid List system means that in some cases I've had to pick modules I don't paticularly want to do. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure 'Vietnam in the US' is all rather splendid and interesting, but it has zero fucking relevance to either one of my courses. 'Popular Texts' I'm sure is marvellous, but 6-9pm is a bugger for me being able to get home. Never mind Ewar, you HAVE to do it, because it's the only option on List C that is available, as the others clash don't they? Good this, isn't it?

So, I've tentatively chosen a few modules, bearing in mind there's an equal balance between Semester 1 and Semester 2, and that they don't clash. Shall we check them out fully, see what they're all about? Yes, lets! So onto the university website we go. Oh, hang on? Were you expecting a module guide, to tell you what the module is all about? No, you see, we don't have those, anywhere. No, don't panic Ewar, the module guides are on WOLF...except that WOLF is seemingly stuck in last year and for a few modules the module guides are simply not there. Hmph. How about the course guides then?

Let's load up the English course guide...oh, and it's all for 1st year students. There is one page for 2nd year modules, which is the list once again telling us what options we can pick. Any information about these modules? Nah! Why would we, eh?

And now onto Pebblepad...actually, no, let's not even go there.

And now the timetable tells me that one of the modules I want to do does not start in Week 4 like everything else, but Week 6. Is that right? Or is that wrong? Let's e-mail the module leader and find out! I load up my university e-mail, and there's an e-mail from someone with a surname of Egginton (surely not a real surname) about module guides. Rather than selecting "multiple recipients" this pillock has listed every single name she's sent the e-mail to, so to get to the actual e-mail I have to scroll down about three thousand fucking million names. I finally get to the bottom, and there is no text, just an attachment:

winmail.dat

"winmail.dat"? That sounds a bit dubious. Voley, do you know this Egginton character? Is that attachment safe to open? If it is, marvellous, I'm presuming that holds all the module guides.

I've calmed down. Let's register my modules, despite not knowing a great deal about them, or when one of them actually starts! But hang on...how do I actually do that? I enlist the help of Merciless Public, who directs me to where I need to go - deep in the heart of e:vision, and certainly not easily accessible if you didn't know where it was.

I'm going to stop there, because this is actually making me tired. But it was fun to get all of that bile off my chest. And do you know the worst thing of all? The really fucking worst thing? I have to re-take a Level 1 module, because I disliked the lecturer of one module I failed, so I gave up on it. I won't be re-doing that module again, so it looks like the only module available to me is...is...is...poetry.

I'm off to shove a load of "happy pills" down my throat.

A Thursday Joke

It's the 1960s, and the "Swinging Sixties" concept is well underway. Michael Caine is hosting a showbiz house party - and everyone who's anyone is there. There's the highest quality food. Top quality music. The best champagne that money can buy.

Lennon and McCartney are at the bar. Jim Morrison and his band are sitting on the floor in the corner singing "Light My Fire" and on the couch George Peppard is getting very close with Sophia Loren.

Everything is going well, until Jim Morrison decides that he's bored and is off home. "Oi, Jim!" interjects Caine, "the party is just getting started! I tell you what, there's a young filly here who's brilliant at oral sex. How about I get her to entertain you in the spare bedroom?"

"Okay then" nods Jim, "providing she also gives the rest of my band the same satisfaction".

"Not a problem Jim!" says Caine, and goes off to whisper some instructions in the girl's ear.

Half an hour later, the girl is finishing off the last band member when Ringo Starr barges into the bedroom. "Alright luv?" he says, "don't suppose you'll do me next will you?"

The young lass thinks for a second, then says "Okay, what the hell!" and proceeds to unzip Ringo's fly and get down to work. Ringo's having a fantastic time until, mere moments before the end, the door opens and Michael Caine bursts in. He grabs the woman by her hair and then slaps her hard across the face.

"What was that for?!" she whimpers.

"I told you!" Caine snarls.

(wait for it)

"You were only supposed to blow the bloody Doors off!"

(I'm here all week)

Are you ready to be...

...if you've just said the word "heartbroken" out loud after reading that title, congratulations! You win...nothing. Because in this instance, you're wrong. Are you ready to be bored, people? Of course you are, you're reading my blog. We all know this is what you do to pass some time once you've looked at the news, e-mail, all other blogs, pornography, the news from Norwegian elections. I know you, people. I know you.

Anyway, I want you to cast your mind back to a blog entry of mine a few weeks back, the link is handily here. If you can't be bothered to click on the link, a quick summary:

A man called Allan Tucker from Oswestry wrote a letter into The Sloppy Star saying, quite simply, that the Taliban are not "our lot" and that we should just leave them and exit from Afghanistan "pronto". I didn't agree, and I proceeded to make a few lame jokes and gently ridicule him. But I will give him credit though - his letter got across his point of view perfectly. He wants the troops to come home from Afghanistan, and his short, snappy letter left no doubt as to his feelings on this matter.

Congratulations Allan. What this means however is that the last thing you need to do is write another letter into the paper about Afghanistan. Seriously, why bother? There's no point. So you're not going to do that, are you? Are you? Oh, you are? Okay, cool.

What a fiasco the Afghan war is. We have been sucked into an imbroglio. Our part must end.

(end of letter)

You know that phone I have where I can phone anyone in history? I haven't used it for a while - I had to get it repaired after it melted whilst I was having phone sex with Fanny Hill. Anyway, I feel like phoning a Hollywood actor. Let's try.....Bill Murray!

(taps out unnecessarily long phone number)

"Hello?"

"Mr Bill Murray sir! It is I, Ewar!"

"Yes?"

"Are you okay, you sound a bit down?"

"No, I'm not okay. You see, I'm stuck in this weird world where every day seems to be exactly the same as the last. It's just the same old shit and I'm finding it difficult to cope!"

"Goodness Bill! I couldn't imagine anything like tha...(looks at paper) Actually...I hear you brother. Hang in there."

In Memoriam

Goodness, it seems the Grim Reaper has been very busy doing his (grim) rounds. Not only dear old Patrick (great name, btw) Swayze but also that egotistic, brash buffoon Keith Floyd. They say it comes in threes, so who's next? I've got a few quid on it being Norman Wisdom, to be honest.

Anyway, at least this sad news has come at a good time. Because, as luck would have it, E.J.Thribb stopped over last night to watch the tennis with me, so I've asked him to come up with his thoughts on these two losses. Over to you, the Thribbster!

So. Farewell then Patrick Swayze

He who was in Dirty Dancing

You never did visit West Sussex

And so never knew the joys of Lancing

So. Farewell then Keith Floyd

He who loved red wine

You also enjoyed all foodstuffs

From sausages to brine

E.J. Thribb 15 2/3

Follow (not) Friday

May I suggest you all visit/read/follow Cantus over at http://cantus-j-fraggle.blogspot.com/?

We've been twitter pals for a while, and what caught my attention is that this guy can draw. I've always been incredibly jealous of people who can draw - it's just a talent that I simply do not possess yet the ones who can do it make it look so bloody simple.

Anyway, he's just set up a blog which looks ace, and he's offered his take on that chef dickhead. Go and take a look, yeah?

Pathetic

Oh dear, oh dear. "Celebrity" chef James Martin has just confirmed to the world what a massive bell-end he is. Writing for The Daily Nazi, here is his latest offering:

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/home/moslive/article-1211917/JAMES-MARTIN-The-Tesla-Roadster-electric-supercar-thats-fast-Ferrari.html

"But I don't care about any of that, and here's why. Twenty minutes into my test drive I pulled round a leafy bend, enjoying the birdsong - and spotted those damned Spider-Man cyclists. Knowing they wouldn't hear me coming, I stepped on the gas, waited until the split second before I overtook them, then gave them an almighty blast on the horn at the exact same time I passed them at speed.

The look of sheer terror as they tottered into the hedge was the best thing I've ever seen in my rear-view mirror. I think this could be the car for me."

Jesus H Christ, what a fucking moron he is. Many thanks to Robbie McEwen and Brad Wiggins for bringing this to my attention.

This is just too good to forget about, Part 7

Not that I would have forgotten about it already, as it only happened last night. And not that I ever will forget it, ever:

I'm not ashamed to say that watching it live, I went to shout something and all that came out was some unintelligible noise. This dude might very well be the second coming of Jesus.

True to my Word

Regular readers will know that one thing I dislike is bad sports journalism. They might also remember this blog post: http://theriseandriseoftimlovejoy.blogspot.com/2009/08/if-theres-one-thing-i-hate.html

If you can't be bothered to click on that - a quick summary. I was bored and fed up with tennis reporters/interviewers who kept on asking Ana Ivanovic a question along the lines of "How does it feel to be fit?" and I presented two examples. I also said this:

I'm going to make a vow, right here - if I ever see/hear/read a journalist asking Ana Ivanovic a question like that again, I'm going to find an address for them or their employer and write a letter of complaint. It is pathetic journalism, and if it makes me annoyed, God only knows what she must think.

The two people in question in that blog post were Marcus Tennis (he with the awesome surname) and Elie Seckback. Well guess what kids? Seckback just can't help himself...

I'll be fair, the rest of the video isn't too awful. But it's the first 40 seconds we're looking at here people. Because even though he dresses the question up a bit, and focuses on the "fashion" element that does exist in the female tennis world, I still wasn't too impressed, and I still think that a decent interviewer would perhaps ask pertinent questions about her tennis game, or at least tackle a subject that hasn't been widely acknowledged before.

SO....I e-mailed him. To be honest, I didn't complain, I just pointed out my feelings in a nice and professional manner. And I'm pleased to say Elie Seckback replied promptly:

hello patrick

thanks for the e-mail

last month i got over 2 millon hits 87% of them males 18-35

so sometimes some questions make it

interviews are for the most part longer that what you end up seeing

but i'll keep what you said in mind --

thanks again

elie

Well done Elie, and if my e-mail makes sure that you ask proper questions to female athletes, my life will be 0.00001% better off.

Now, another vow. If I see/read/hear anything else about The Beatles this week, I'm going to poke Richard Starkey in the eye.

The Sloppy Star

Shall we just take a look at the sports headline from yesterday's Shropshire Star? Yes, I think we shall!

Fantastic. The real question is though - how is the paper floating over my laptop like that?!

Ewar's HoF Inductee #1

Hello, good morning, and welcome, to a new feature here on TRAROTL - Ewarwoowar's Hall of Fame. Over the coming months I'll be selecting a group of people who deserve to belong in the hallowed kingdom of my Hall of Fame, and tell you a little about them and why I like them. Shall we have Inductee #1? Shall we?

STEP FORWARD MR CHARLES "Charlie" GIBSON!

Who else watches ABC World News on BBC 2 weekdays at about 1:30am?

Only me? Cool. I absolutely love the show, for one reason only - there is never any news on it from outside the US/doesn't impact the US. Now that wouldn't be a problem, but the fact the show is called 'World News' and then blatantly ignores the rest of the world just amuses me greatly. As Bill Bryson once said, "If you want to make the whole of Europe disappear, just open up an American newspaper."

Charles Gibson was born in Illinois in 1943, but moved to Washington DC when he was 12. Charles graduated from Princeton University in New Jersey, and then moved into a media career, starting on RKO Radio. He joined ABC News in 1975, and is perhaps best known in the States for presenting the morning news show from 1987-1998, then 1999-2006. He has anchored the World News show since 2006, but he will be retiring from that at the end of this year. Before long, the majesty of Charlie signing off with "I'm Charles Gibson - I hope you had a good day" will be gone forever, sadly.

In 2008 he was heavily involved in the race to be President - he was the co-moderator of the Democratic debate between Obama and Hilary Clinton, and he conducted the first interview with Sarah Palin after she became the Republican's vice-presidential candidate. Away from his job, he is married with two children, and in 2006 he donated $85,000 to a university in Virginia to establish a music scholarship fund named after his late brother.

Charles Gibson, we salute you!

Fantasy Football Leaderboard

Feels like ages ago this, doesn't it? In case you've forgotten, Gameweek 4 saw the Mighty Mancunians defeat Arsenal 2-1 at OT. Arsenal's misery was compounded by seeing their manager get sent off for kicking a water bottle.

(Just going off tangent for a minute: if any other United fans ever read this - stop it with the whole "Wenger paedophile" chants. Was funny for about 15 minutes in 1997, but ridiculous now, and gives our club a bad name.)

Rant over! Also this Gameweek, Liverpool came from behind twice to beat Bolton, Chelsea crushed Burnley, and Hull managed to get a good point at Molineux. Right, the table!

1) Melchester Rovers (Daniel) 205 SAME

2) Clunge FC (Dylan) 202 DOWN 1

3) FATHEADZ BOYS FC (colby) 193 SAME

4) Boddy Dazzler FC (Darryl) 182 UP 2

5) Cynical Ben (Ben) 179 UP 1

6) Crem de la Prem (andy) 178 UP 2

7) Fantasy FC (Rob) 176 DOWN 2

8) Tommy Tank FC (Mitchell) 174 DOWN 4

9) Renford Rejects (Patrick) 163 SAME

=9) The Lamplight Tandem (Jon) 163 UP 3

11) Warrior's XI (arun) 154 UP 1

12) Miller-Urey XI (Don) 151 UP 2

=12) IsJohnCarewElectric? (formerly IsTonyDaleyElectric) (Shaun) 151 DOWN 2

=12) Dynamo Sawyer (Richard) 151 DOWN 4