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and so it begins...

It must be possible to do animations on my PC without having to spend money on some fancy pants animation programme. The question is how? If you know please add something to the comments section. I want to get into doing some little animations to help improve my You Tube videos.

The above is a rubbish doodle that I did recently on Paintbox. I'm all excited about paintbox as it reminds me of an old animation programme I used to have on the Commodore Amiga called Delux Paint III. However, unlike that application it doesn't animate stuff. Ruined. I was thinking it would be great if the readers of this blog all sent in little pictures that they themselves have done on paintbox and we could have a picture drawing contest. See who can draw the best picture of a man. It'd have to be praises though, not prizes, that you'd win. Glory not gold. Email me a picture you've drawn on paintbox! Brilliant.

My hopes aren't that high though as so far no one has managed to suss out what film I'm pointing towards with this picture:

THE QUESTION: What film is this?

Clue*:It's a film which was done back in 1980! Tea, welly, pants, man. What could that be? The elephant man perhaps? Just f#cking humour me and put The Elephant Man in the comments thing. This whole thing is making me look like a c#nt. Why did no one get it right? That was easy!

Put your answer in the comments section, lets see if anyone gets it right now!


* Highlight the empty space next to the word "clue" to reveal the clue. Drag the cursor over it with the left mouse button depressed.

(Saturday) Screaming out / like a cat caught / by a fox / in a dark car park / at night. Bleed me dry. Sweet honey pie.

I listened to the Take That album this morning and what I heard of it I really enjoyed. It still annoys me that Gary can't sing the word "lost" on the song Patience without it sounding like he's adding a "w". What does "lowst" mean? Silly. I should perhaps illustrate that point with a cheeky video like the Britney one I did* a bit ago. Maybe not. You just need to switch the radio on and I'm sure "Patience" will come on if you just wait long enough. You'll need to be wait for it but I'm sure if you try a little patience**.

Today I went to a bloke's 40th birthday party. He was a nice guy from Australia who had an unnatural interest in Doctor Who. We bonded over his kid's toys. I was totally amazed at how great they were. He had a huge selection of great Doctor Who toys. They were really quality toys as well. I was jealous. Particularly as over New Year someone who stayed over at my house broke my Dalek's eye piece. And then didn't confess to it! I've got my suspicions as to who it was but without a confession I've just got a broken Dalek. And no apology. Most annoying.

Serves me right for Skelletor.

This kid though, he had a classic Dalek, jet black and superbly rendered. He also had a Cyberman mask which altered your voice. It didn't fit my massive head though. I've always had an abnormally large head and over the years I've got used to it. Everyone else though, has to go through the whole polite;

"It'll fit, come on, here, let me try. Oops. Sorry about that. Errm. You really do have an abnormally large head. How odd".

I've learned a trick with party hats though after a mate of mine suggested anyone who doesn't wear them is automatically suspicious.

So, in summary I was amazed by how genuinely his kid loved Dr Who and furthermore his knowledge of classic Dr Who was. He loved "Genesis of The Daleks", one of the best Dr Who stories ever made, and he even liked Tomb Of The Cybermen, an old black and white story which was lost until 1992! Perhaps not all kids are going to be a total waste of space after all. Liking Dr Who is a sign of good character. Just like an appreciation of Winnie The Pooh***.


*Which, if you look at the comments section, is on the verge of going viral. Someone has already ripped it off and put it on the myspace profile. Cool! I like the idea of one of my friends sending it me as an email forward. Unlikely as I don't have many friends and I have even less who send email forwards but you never know. My evil genius will conquer the world! For a bit.

** Sorry. I think we've just sussed why I have so few friends.

*** Not the Disney one. In fact I think genuine love of Disney characters in a child is a bad sign. I'm going to be annoyed if my kid ever tells me sincerely that they really like Mickey Mouse. It'd be like in the olden days if your child were gay, you'd get all unreasonably annoyed about it. Same deal. Disney baad. Dr Who, gooood.

"Strange things are afoot at the Circle K".

Today was an odd day for many reasons.

I went to someone's leaving do at my girlfriend's work. It was nice to see people and go round Manchester with them. We went to a bar called TV21 which was a theme pub. It celebrated classic old TV shows, a bit like The FAB Cafe only bigger and, frankly, nicer. It had a great pinball machine in the corner based on The Simpsons. Being a huge fan of pinball machines as any regular reader will attest I dragged a few of my girlfriend's collegues over and got them involved. I can't help but corrupt others in this respect. We were banging away on the pinball machine, loving it, when suddenly someone said; "oh, Johnny Vegas is outside and the bouncers won't let him in 'cause he's drunk".

Now, I was drunk. And I was playing pinball! But the crowd of people around me were all getting excited and I soon got caught up in it. I'm friends with a bloke called Toby Foster and he knows Johnny Vegas really well so I thought I'd perhaps mention that in conversation. Instead I got caught up in this mad crowd of people who were all having their photos taken with him and pulling at him from every side. It was really surreal. I don't think I've ever been caught up in anything like that.

Then I noticed his face. He looked like he was a mixture of confused, profoundly sad, and gracious. It was really, really strange. His vibe was the oddest I've ever felt. If he'd not have been famous he's the sort of bloke you'd have avoided eye contact with. I didn't know what to make of it. All around him though everyone seemed oblivious to this. They were just excited to be around a famous person.

Now I really am a genuine fan of his stand-up work. I've got his DVD "Who's ready for Ice Cream" which is very odd indeed. There's some good stuff on there, in the extras. But I certainly wasn't the most enthusiastic person in the crowd. I remember whispering to my girlfriend, "let's just leave him alone". So we did. But I can still see the odd expression he had on his face as 30 or so strangers crowded round him in a bar in Manchester.


It's all very exciting. (Thursday)

While waiting in the queue for the bar at the Phil Nichol show me and my girlfried went to over the weekend I witnessed what is known as "a c#ck". What makes the incident play through my mind so frequently is that it was "a c#ck" bumping up against a very droll Manchester lady who'd clearly met his like before.

The woman in question was serving from behind the bar and was using an intercom to request more staff come to help her out. The bloke in question, a chubby odd looking chap with curly locks and thick glasses, decided to make a big scene and shout;

"Ha ha, 'over and out'! Eh? Eh? 'Over and out'. Ha ha!".

He did it in such a way that you'd have thought he was berrating her to a sympathetic audience of like-minded friends but there wasn't one nearby. It might be that he'd been in the company of mates who he didn't realise had f#cked off and left him to his own devices. Or it might be that he just thought everyone else in the crowd stood round the bar would share his incredulity as regarded he use of an intercom.

It was a really odd moment. What did he expect? Everyone who was waiting for this little old lady to serve them, to rally round his crap attempts at boorish humour? It was a really odd silence that followed as everyone either tried their best to ignore his loudly boasted comments or wondered as I did why he'd made them in the first place.

Then came the thick Mancunian drawl of the woman behind the bar, laced with beautiful northern sarcasm and world weary grit; "you should be up on stage luv".

Next thing he knew Matey was being openly and loudly laughed at by pretty much everyone stood at the bar. He'd put so much effort into attracting attention to himself that everyone there was waiting for a conclusion to the narrative he'd begun. That ending was simple; his humiliating defeat and wholesale mockery. He slunk off looking like a total c#ck. It was beautiful. It served him right, he'd been trying to bully the woman behind the bar, she'd taken him up to the top rope and headslammed him into the canvass.

Game set and match.

I keep thinking of it. Very funny. Proof that sometimes in life justice can be served.


Hot chocolate at only 40 calories. What a bonus.

I'm totally hooked on YouTube. It has drawn me right into its dirty clutches. My Britney Spears short has had almost 200 views and the phone in one I did which is frankly a bit sh#t still manages to get more viewers each day. Obviously I'm cheating a little bit by putting direct links up from here to there but it's nice to think that I've got my own little TV channel of sorts which has a very small audience. All of it being done from the comfort of my bedroom. Amazing!

I even have two subscribers! That's two people who get a little reminder when I finish another one of my thrilling creations. YouTube is amazing and I suggest you have a go at it as soon as you can. It's a lot easier than you'd think.

This latest bit of nonsense is an old sketch I wrote a couple of years ago but never got round to recording and finishing properly. There's not really been any place for things like this on Hallam FM these days and I've always felt a bit embarrassed trying to crowbar ideas like this into what I do there. I'm quite pleased with it though. I think my videos are getting better.

I'm sure I've written about this sketch on this blog somewhere but I can't find the right entry. If that's right and you're a long term reader, sorry. To you this is just old material repackaged. Don't worry though, these lot don't know that.

Direct link.


Some cloud cover daily (Tuesday)

My mate Lloyd came over to visit me today. It was great to see him. We chatted about various nonsense. I like to think that a friendship is something you can pick up and carry on with where you left off the last time and Lloyd certainly fits that particular mold. We were soon bumbling away to each other as usual.

It's odd that this blog maintains a nice link between me and my mates. Just as theirs is something I can easily check on if I want to see how they are. Here's a link to his account of his visit on his blog.

We spoke about how dissapointing it is when people don't update thier blogs. Particularly when they start off well. My mate Tom Binns has started doing a blog on the BRMB website. It's a three word blog. Great idea*.

Then we wandered around Sheffield after trying to drive in my car to The Yorkshire Sculpture Park and realising that the steering on it is f#cked and not suitable for the motorway. Ruined. As we went on the road out towards Outibridge the car was shaking like a tractor. I was totally sh#tting my pants but Lloyd seemed perfectly at ease. I'm a really nervous driver/passenger and frankly I thought we were going to die.

Once we were back on the normal 30mph roads we were fine. MOT next week. Not going to make it through that without a bit of a fight.


*He's not replying to my emails at the moment though. Annoying. Perhaps he's the same as me in that he reads them and then thinks, "yeah I'll reply to that in a minute," and then doesn't. Or perhaps he just thinks I'm a c#nt.

Hope it all works out then (Monday)

My mate Jon sent me this picture. I'm guessing it's not his actual dog as he's never mentioned owning one in the past, he must however have seen this picture in his travels and thought of the Monday Dog. Excellent. The whole feature is slowly getting a life of its own. Dogs are brilliant in any context. I'm jealous of my workmate Big John Harrison, he has recently gotten himself a dog. I'll have to ask him to send me the picture so I can display it proudly on the Monday Dog. This blog's most famous feature.

Talking of which I'm very dissapointed that no one has even attempted my amazing quiz question which I did a few days back. It took me ages to get all the pictures together and it looks like the few hundred or so people who have read that entry have rolled their eyes and gone, "f#ck that, who does he think I am?".

I'm sure that's not the case. I'm sure people have read it and tried really hard to answer it but it was just too hard. Although it's not. Ruined.

Now I'm stuck with a dilemma. Do I:

A) re-post the quiz question?
B) pretend the idea of a quiz question never happened?
C) backlink to the quiz question?

I've no idea what the answer to that dilemma is. No idea at all.

Here's the backlink to it. Someone please try and answer it!

No shame in getting it wrong.

Arrgh. I liked the idea of putting quiz questions on my blog!


Make it bleed by accident.

Went to see Phil Nichol in Manchester this weekend. He was f#cking amazing. His act is so high energy you can't imagine it without witnessing him first hand. The climax of the show involves him taking off all his clothes and protesting for peace in Iraq. Brilliant. There's a logic to it which he outlines as he moves towards the end of the show, while telling a story of drugs and nonsense in Amsterdam.
The first time me and the lady saw him he was bouncing around the comedy stage in Glastonbury. That performance became, in my mind, the stuff of legend. He jumped after a bloke who was leaving the show, rugby tackled him to the ground and begged him not to leave "because I'll be real f#cking funny any minute now, sir". Later in the act he tried to stick his unsheathed winky in someone's face who had offered to suck it! Madness, total madness. But at the same time it's that raw f#cking energy that only live comedy can bring. You can't match it in any other context. Try anything like that anywhere else and people would be horrified.

The next time we saw him it was up at the Edingburgh festival; first in the play talk radio and secondly in his own right as a performer, the night he won the "if.comeddies"* award as it happens. Jolly good he was then too, although to be fair this performance in Manchester was better. Probably because he wasn't dealing with the confusion of the fact he'd just won one of the biggest awards in comedy. Certainly a shock to me and my lady. Not the sort of comedian you'd expect to get mainstream approval. He's too good.

I hope it doesn't ruin him.

Seriously, it's an odd pressure to have on you. We were in the stalls during the interval talking to a nice old couple who'd popped out to see some comedy and had got this legend talking about for example, how great the drug Ecstacy is. "He's a stag night comedian though isn't he," they were saying, "we heard about him on Radio 4 and knew he'd won the award so we thought he might be like Ross Nobel". They were nice enough and certainly weren't complaining but I don't think the night was going quite as they'd planned. They looked horrified when I told them the 'sucking the winky' story. Totally f#cking horrified.


*The new Perrier award.

Pulling away the skin on my fingers... not a good idea.

There's a bloke coming up the hill towards me and my mate, he looks like he fancies himself as a bit of a tough guy. He's got all the tough guy gear on. He takes a glance up at us as he walks past us and as casually as he can manage; spits on the floor. Just like that. He's proving what a tough guy he is. I stifled my natural reaction to smirk and wondered why some people do this. It's almost like they can't help it. It's part of the macho image. Tough dudes spit on the floor.

I've always found it disgusting when people spit on the floor. It's dirty. It proves nothing to me other than that you're a dirty little animal. Either that or it suggests you're ill and need to clear your snot filled mouth. You've no choice in the matter. But that suggests weakness and this bloke was trying to be tough.

This is what I've never understood about the gesture. It's such an odd thing to do to prove your tough guy credentials. In my book spitting on the floor to show how hard you are is like deciding to start farting infront of strangers as an act of bravado. People would just laugh at you. Ironic then that it'd be a more hygenic act of agression. Also, it'd make more sense given that it's your 'scent'.

I was in the communal showers in the gym I go to and I noticed on the floor the remnants of someone's spit at the entrance to the cubicle. Why? Why? Why?

I've a good mind to start telling people off about it. Fortunately though I don't have to, I can instead vent on this blog and save getting my head needlessly kicked in by idiots who are on the tough guy trip.


(Friday) Tin sold on the market for five pound a pound

This Jade Goody nonsense has forced me to write a conspiracy theory entry. I believe that the reason I'm a conspiracy theorist sympathiser is because I work on the fringes of the slippery mainstream media world where you can see less important plots unravel before your eyes. Obviously in every industry there is a gap between what you tell your customers and what actually happens. A friend of mine is a Chef and he refuses to eat in resteraunts, if he does he's always insanely fussy about things. He's seen stuff fall on the floor and pass the ten second rule*. He doesn't want to eat it. But I just guzzle it down. I think he's just exaggerating about how bad things are in the kitchen. To me his insistance that he doesn't eat in anyone's resteraunt is an amusing peculiarity. An anecdote almost.

Well, I'm afraid it's the same thing in the media. Work in the kitchen for a bit and you start to question how much of this stuff is true. Less so in the local radio world, as with local newspapers you can actually get away with a lot more there. The bigger the media organisation though the more obstacles you'll face.

Now I'm not saying here that there is as a matter of fact a secret cartel of people who control and manipulate the truth. I have no evidence for that. However I am saying that like my mate who works as a Chef, I'm always dubious of anything that is served up for me by anyone I don't know personally.

That's why I felt like my mate as I watched the whole Jade eviciton episode. I wanted to send my plate back and tell them someone had f#cked about with it. I wasn't the only one who noticed something was, a little wrong. Watch this YouTube clip which highlights some of the interesting editing that occurred during the "live" eviction.

Direct link.

What happened there?

I can't tell you, but I can explain why the interview which proceeded it might have felt a little... "nice". It's probably, in my opinion, down to the fact that Davina McCall and Jade Goody share the same agent, John Noel management. It's the same agent who looks after Russell Brand, whose been playing the whole thing down nicely on Big Brother's Big Mouth, and Dermot O'Leary** who did a very pleasant interview with her later in the week.

The world is about what individual people do and how they interact with each other. These people are all mates. This is what I don't understand. Why don't people see this? Surely everyone knows there's no such thing as "reality" TV. It's not real. It's not your reality. It's someone else's version of the world. Stick anyone in a broadcasting studio for hours on end with a load of strangers there's bound to be a few things in there that will look bad. Why can't people get their heads round that and blame the people who are in the wrong, Channel 4. Oh and me.

You know, for watching it in the first place.

The more interesting question is this; what the f#ck is going on in our world when a reality TV show incites an international incident, questions in Parliament and comment from major politicians in the media?

Here's a great take on the story from an American news channel:

I've taken it from YouTube, the direct link is here.

I don't mean as in, what is wrong with our world? Like I'm ringing my hands, like everyone else is doing. You know, like we've lost all sense of proportion and it's symptomatic of some sort of social cultural thing. I mean what is actually going on? At the same time? While the majority of people are being distracted by purile debates.

I'll tell you; some of the most embarrasing sh#t I've seen in ages. That's what. Like the terrorism trial which is revealing links between MI5 and the so called "hoax" bombers? Click here. I remember when I read that thinking, "ooh, I wonder how they'll cover all that up?". I'm sure all this is a co-incidence though. Right?

Tell you what though, I'd only ever worry about Muslims blowing you up on public transport if they're the sort of Muslim who seems to hang out with a f#cking secret service operative. There's not a single instance in the UK, or in America, where a terrorist attack has ever been perpertrated by a so called "clean skin"***. Ever. And don't even get me started on the recent revelations that there was collusion with the loyalist paramillitaries in Northern Ireland.

That's what's going on. And a whole load of other stuff as well. But the majority, the fat cattle, they're being herded towards nonsense.

I wouldn't mind but it was depressing boring nonsense. I spent the night watching it round at my girlfriend's friend's house. It was nice to go round there and have food**** cooked for us but I found the TV show itself profoundly depressing. The whole thing felt so obviously stage managed. I don't believe all this b#llocks about fears for her personal safety either. They could have vetted all that and still had an audience waiting as she came out, in my opinion.

I felt like my mate eating out at a resteraunt. Only this time it was me who was making a fuss. About nothing.


*Only on the floor for ten seconds? Not long enough to get any germs on it then!

**Oh and, if you look, Matthew Wright as well, whose chatshow Jade appeared on later in the week.

*** "Clean skin": someone who has had no contact whatsoever with the secret services.

**** Special weight watchers food!

Znap out. Totally, znap out.

So I've decided to do a quiz on the blog. Mainly because I like writing quiz questions like this one which I've done at the bottom of this entry. It's a bit like a quiz they do in the Observer or the Independent or something. It's based on my game of radio charades I occasionally do on the late show on Hallam.

Also it's a good way of filling up these blog entries because I'm behind and I want to catch up with myself in real time. So to speak. It's getting tricky to write about what happened a week ago.

When I say it's a good way of filling it up I don't mean that this entry is rushed. Ironicly it's taken me longer than a normal "here's what I did today..." blog entry. So don't feel shortchanged, I've written a really great observational entry which appears right after this one. This is just something a bit different.

THE QUESTION: What film is this?

Clue*:It's a film which was done back in 1980!

Put your answer in the comments section, lets see if anyone gets it right.

*If you need the clue, firstly I'd like to point out that you're a pussy and then I'll just explain that if you just drag your cursor over the empty area next to the clue prompt it should highlight the text which lies next to it.

Here with me. Just get here with me.

I was listening to the song "Everytime" by Britney Spears and as usual the lyrics in it grated on me;

"My weakness caused you pain

And that sucks massively."

What a horrible lyric! How the f#ck could you put something like that down without feeling like an utter twonk? You'd have to be some sort of f#ckwitted fool. Hang on a minute, did Britney co-write this one? Oh dear, yes she did. It amused me so much I loaded up the full lyrics to the tune and it turned out that I'd misheard it.

The official lines are;

"My weakness caused you pain and this song is my sorry."

I don't know whether to be dissapointed or annoyed. I actually feel as though I'm being lied to but simply can't prove it.

Have a listen yourself:

Direct link.

Am I just mishearing it or do you think they recorded one version and then printed another to save face?


Almost catching up now. That first word is the most important.

This is the sight that looked up at me after I'd given in to my primal lusts.

This is the reason I have such problems slimming.

This evil little beast is Marks and Spencers Italian Style Coffee Milk. I love it! It's the nicest drink in the world, better even than Baileys. Just lovely. Can you see how it's an empty bottle? That's 'coz I' just went and gone and drunk it. I went and gone and drunk the whole dang fing.

The only catch is that it's 10 points per bottle. 10 weight watchers points, per bottle! That's a meal. And a dessert. In one! 10 points... I get 30 per day.

To put it into perspective: meatballs, two slices of toast and a bottle of beer all together would be exactly 10 points. So as you can imagine it was a tough call when I was eyeing up this little treat at the train station on the weekend:

"Woo that's a lot of points Nicholarse, you're slimming you can't really have things like that, skip a meal. Sorry, I mean, you can't really have that. Skip a meal. Oops, there I go again. Sorry. Skip a f#cking meal!"

So I did, I skipped a meal and gorged on this baby. Here's the bit where most people usually go ", oh, and I regretted it afterwards," but balls to that! I loved every second of it. And I'd do exactly the same thing again. Seriously, it's nicer than Baileys! If you want to be big and fat like me go and buy some next time you're at Marks and Spencers and guzzle away. Your tastebuds will thank you. It'll serve you right for gloating as well*.


*You were. You're sitting there going, "pah, no wonder he's so fat, serves him right, fatso!". You wait 'til you've had some of that stuff. It's like heroin. I imagine. Only don't inject it. Or smoke it. Drink it. The milk thing, not heroin. Heroin is bad. Drugs are bad. So is that milk thing. Help me.

(Monday) Kick that ball like a good longpig.

Hi Nick

I got this interesting picture of my dogs which I took at night time.
The flash certainly had an amazing effect on their eyes. I've also
attached a picture of how they look in daylight, so you can take your

from Wayne

Loving it. They look like scary dogs! I'm sure they're not but I'd probably sh#t myself if I was dealing with them first hand.

I like it how Wayne has given me and either/or situation with the dog pictures. It's got to be both surely? Also, look at that first picture, one dog has green flashing eyes and the other has red! Sh#t man, those are scary pictures!

Actually, as I write this I've realised that I haven't replied to a sh#tload of emails. That's a bad habit I'm in. I'll read it, then leave it up on my screen and think, "yeah, I'll reply to that in a minute," then forget about it completely. Apparently according to my boss it's because I'm a kinesthetic thinker, one of the traits of which is that I take a while to think things through and work out how I feel about them. This entry from two years ago tells you that.

I'm wary of pop psychology but this idea of a kinesthetic thinker ties in with something called Neuro Linguistic Programming which is a subject I started researching more than a year ago. The idea is that there are supposed to be three different preffered thought methods; visual, audio and kinesthetic. The latter are the less common with visual being the most common and audio somewhere inbetween. Kinesthetic thinkers are actually the ones which are least well understood, due to them being the least common. Originally I'd decided that I was probably a 'visual thinker'. There is a suggestion that you can tell what mode of thinking someone has if you listen out for phrases like "I see what you mean" or "I've heard otherwise" or "I've not got a very good feel for this". The first would be visual, second audio and third kinesthetic. I'm quite often talking about how I see things so I'd decided I was visual.

Although I'm not entirely drawn in by NLP but it is something that I suggest you look into, simply because so many people treat it as gospel. It's a way of improving communication more than anything else but Derren Brown claims to use it in his magic act as a way of controlling people's responses and decisions.

Anyway, I'm back in one piece from London I've been transcribing the Pat Mills interview I did on Saturday and marvelling at how good it is. He's a pretty good ranter, if you can get him going. His words have a way of slowly escalating on a subject which I've never seen in any previous interviews I'm aware of that were done with him. Generally most of the interviews with him that I've found are quite terse, one word answers. This one should be nice and human.


Oh yeah lady baby. Keep looking at me. (Sunday)

Trundling back on the train wrestling with the concept of writing a few jokes I hear the sound of a ticket inspector negotiating with a particularly nasty voice. Hearing only snatches of dialogue without a chance to get an eyeball on what's happening due to the positioning of my seat is a pretty nasty experience. I can hear a really evil drawl going:

"You f#cking c#nt, you've sold me a f#cking ticket to Nottingham and I wanted to go to Sheffield".

While another voice replied:

"Who are you talking to now mate?"

"You, you little c#nt. I'll f#cking have you".

"I'd advise you on thinking of a way to get yourself home if I was you mate".

I sort of realised I was actually listening to three people talking, one of them was being nasty and abusive and the other two were trying to reason with him, sort of. It was really frustrating not to know what exactly was going on.

I never heard a struggle but we did pull up at a station and it seemed to calm down a bit. I couldn't see anyone getting off at the station though.

Later on I heard the ticket inspector say; "yeah there's a transport police officer on every train nowadays mate".

It was an odd fraction of an incident which made all the more of an impression as a consequence of being so incomplete.

At the time I remember thinking that people like the abusive bloke in question should be tasered and treated like the animals they are. Then as the train continued I recalled the following post and pulled into Sheffield station in a really foul mood. The older I get the more I realise I simply do not have the answers to the world's political problems. I'm also becoming more and more suspicious of anyone who claims that they do.


So hot dang go

London is a scary big place but if you play it right it can be great fun. The strange vibe of the place can unsettle you at first; there's no respect for personal space as people scrabble about, very few people seem to speak english*, you have the constant fear of getting mugged and I feel a constant pressure not to just chill out and stand still.

I was pretty nervous about today in London as I was here to interview Pat Mills, the godfather of comics, for the second time after our first hook up last year. It was just as exciting as last time although perhaps a little more nerve wracking given that I felt a bit of a pressure to make sure we covered everything I could think of. In retrospect though there were a few things we missed but to be fair I could talk to him forever about his career, it's one of the longest and most successful in the industry.

Now it's time to turn all the material we've got into the cracking interview it already is. Fans of comics will be totally blown away by some of the stuff we've got on tape. It provides a real insight into his stuff, which I'm enjoying even more now, after talking to him.

Also, I'm very excited about it as it will be my first "real" engagement as a writer. I've been doing this blog for over a year but I'm not sure people would take it seriously on my CV. This article however could shape up to be something I can show to people as proof that I'm a decent scribe as well as broadcaster.

I've always wanted to do some paid written work but have no real idea how to go about it. The REDEYE article I'm sat on will be a good potential springboard. All I need to do now is get writing it up.

After interviewing Pat Mills I went and hooked up with various friends and got tiddly in London. It was a really funny night and it gave me a chance to catch up with some old buddies, all of whom I'd like to see more often.


* Apparently that's racist. Well call me Jade Goody but I really don't have a f#cking clue why, but more than a few people have told me I'm being racist there. I don't think I am. I'm just not cool with the fact I can't understand people who are working in industries where you'd have thought that might be a good idea. For example, you work in Marks And Spencers and you don't speak a word of English? How do I ask you where my favourite coffee drink is? With difficulty, that's how.

(Friday) snort it up like a good little pig.

"ENLIST TODAY - He's happy and satisfied, are you?" That's what the poster says. It was glaring at me as I sat in a London pub with my girlfriend and her mates. I'm here to interview Pat Mills tomorrow, the writer of one of the most famous anti-war comics ever published, Charlie's war. I'm a bit shook up to see this poster sat there like a quaint bit of tat. In reality it's a terrible reminder of how totally f#cked up we are as a race. There will have been people who, as a consequence of that poster, will have signed up to go fight in the war. And they'll have died in terrible circumstances.

That's more than a little bit f#cked up.

But there everyone was buying drinks and being wacky in its shadow. It grated on me so much I couldn't really relax and when someone mentioned that I seemed to be preoccupied with the posters I agreed with them and started taking photos with my camera phone. I knew I'd post them up here in the end. This is of course the place where all my odd musings land.
What surprised me was the sheer number of these posters. There must have been about ten different types of them. As far as I could make out they're all from the 1st world war as well. So they're not even able to claim to have been part of a worthwhile conflict*.

This next one isn't quite as clear but it read "YOUR KING & COUNTRY NEED YOU - TO MAINTAIN THE HONOUR and GLORY of the BRITISH EMPIRE". What the f#ck? It's a totally different world. You wouldn't even consider putting out such a poster nowadays, even the thick c#nts that it's aimed at would laugh at it.

Inevitably I started ranting at my girlfriend and her mates, who I'd just met, and they were polite and agreed with my impotent mumblings. My lady, who writes adverts, laughed at the idea that in reality what will have happened is some poor copywriter will have been given a breif; "do us some adverts for cannon fodder".

It was still amazing to me that these posters were on display rather than being hidden, buried long ago with the rest of our society's shameful secrets, like Keith Harris and Orville. The one that really blew my mind though was this one...

Looming over us in the pub it still retained some of its power. The inscription in full reads: "IT IS FAR BETTER TO FACE THE BULLETS THAN TO BE KILLED AT HOME BY A BOMB - JOIN THE ARMY AT ONCE & HELP TO STOP AN AIR RAID - GOD SAVE THE KING". What's so awful about this is that they knew air raids were not a serious threat in the 1st world war. The few that did happen were not a major success. Nothing like the second world war for example. They're using the psychological fear of someone killing your loved ones to make you go fight 'for the King'. It made my headspin to think of the people who would have been scared witless by that poster. Imagine it in context! It'd have non of the quaint charm back then. It would be telling you that the destruction of civilisation as we know it is just days away unless you grab a gun and go killing people you've never met before!


It put me in a bit of a stinker of a mood. Particularly given that I was in London, the home of it all.


*If there really is such a thing. I know it's not very fashionable but I'm starting to wonder. My grandad fought in the 2nd world war and he never really recovered from it. Ever.

(Thursday) He's not lost it.

I made a massive mistake last night. I took a load of drugs and my mind was f#cked for most of the rest of the day.

In a desperate attempt to reign in my f#cked sleeping times I decided to take some Nytol. It totally screwed me up though. I fell asleep on time but in the morning I couldn't wake up on time at all. Furthermore I felt totally f#cked once I did wake up. My mind was full of cobwebs. Not a good thing when you've got another snoop with the boss. His coaching sessions are first class, easily some of the best I've ever had in radio. He really knows his stuff.

Afterwards I nailed some moves at the gym, bought myself a water bottle and tried to wake the f#ck up.

Tonight is the first night of my weekend so I spent it like I usually do; b#ggering about with Windows Movie Maker.

Here are the results:

Direct link.

I was cutting up some old phone in show audio, it's the bit where I storm out. I've given different celebrities the roles of me, the caller and producer Steve. I'm represented by Nick Nolte, Eddie the caller is represented by wrestling legend, Eddie Guerrero, and Steve is represented by Steve Zodiac, from Fireball XL5.

Listening back to it I'm impressed by how well Eddie holds his own against my argument. He did well as a caller. That was what made the show, it's great callers. They'd have a big barney with you one night and be back on the line the next day. Legends, all of them.


I have to smell my finger after I poke my tummy button?

I can't believe this Government. Apparently there's a rumour that there are plans to merge two schools in Sheffield, just stick the two together like that! Fortunately they're not going to sack the staff and everyone will keep their jobs and positions. The Government has said that they think two heads will be better than one.

I have read that there are fears that this new supercasino they're thinking of building near Don Valley might turn people into gambling addicts though. The odds are 2:1 against.

Apparently globe-trotting Hollywood couple Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt are finally settling down in the city of New Orleans. They were originally looking for a place in London but then Brad discovered what his name stood for in cockney rhyming slang.

I took magic mushrooms to expand my mind then watched MTV and shrunk it again.

I went to weight watchers and lost over 4 pounds. £4.50p to be exact.

.............and relax.

I've been trying my hand at writing jokes recently. The above represent my dabblings with the classic set-up and punchline format. Strangely unsatisfying in places, oddly amusing in others. I actually smirked as I wrote the first one. I'm genuinely proud of it. It's my ambition to slam a pint of beer down on a pub table and go into a big rant which copies that first "joke" word for word, then wait and watch the response. It'll be interesting to see if people notice that I'm joking.

I've often wondered how many times I've thought someone was joking when actually they weren't. Probably more times than I'd be comfortable with.

Feel free to add your own hilarious jokes into the comments section of this entry.


(tuesday) It's impossible to look for a ticket for a train without feeling like you've been caught without one.

According to my myspace site I have three friends. One of them is called Brett and I don't think I know who he is. Hopefully he won't take that the wrong way, if he reads this blog. After all, a stranger is just a friend you haven't met. Unless they're not. He seems alright though. He's got a Thundercats logo as his picture. That's all I know about him.

Quite a few of my friends in real life were dissapointed when I told them I'd got a myspace account. It was something I did in the middle of the night while p#ssing about on the internet. Obviously that's no excuse but I haven't actually used it for anything. I can't really see the point in it. Anything you can do there you can do on a blog but a million times better. The layout of the thing is awful, I've never landed on one that didn't look sh#t. I don't approve of this music that suddenly starts playing when you land on a site either. How tacky! It's like the sort of thing that you used to have to put up with on the net towards the end of 98/99 all the time, I though it had been phased out. There's a sort of implied wackyness to the whole thing that I'm not comfortable with.

The thing about the internet is that it seems to be taking up so much of my time nowadays that I almost feel like I live inside it sometimes. It's not healthy. I was chatting to a mate of mine recently about irratic sleeping hours and reading obscure wikipedia entries* when it struck me that this generation is possibly the first to have the opportunity to so comprehensively waste its own time like that.

It's a worrying state of affairs.

Oh and by the way, here's two sites which will drain hours from your life, click here or click here. Particulalrly the Blackadder Piolet on this one.


*Action comic, an obscure but brilliant entry on wikipedia which I was reading at 5.30am.

Trout... salmon... cod... coy carp... herring...

It's a beauty! This is a picture of Stan. My girlfriend bumped into him around Manchester Market. He's a pretty inquisitive chap from the looks of things. What a great picture. Monday's Dog is without doubt one of the best features I've introduced to this site. Don't forget you can email me your dog pictures to my current work address:

It still pains me to see how far behind I am with this blog! I'm still trying to catch up after all the excitement of Xmas. I'm behind with loads of little chores at the moment. Niggly blo#dy tasks like filling in Tax forms and stuff like that.

On the positive side though I'm really enjoying the snoop sessions* I'm having with my new boss, Simon Monk, at the moment. He's a clever guy and his ideas on how to do a radio show are really pulling my head inside out. I think it's improving my work a great deal, time will tell.


*Radio slang "Snoop: You sit down with the boss once a week and he goes over what you're doing on air as well as giving you a helping hand here and there".

I mean I could go on...

I think I'm going to punch something in a minute!

I'm currently enduring that most peculiar of human problems; I've bitten my bottom lip. I've done so in no less than two eye watering places as well. Everytime I try and chew something I manage to munch deep into the skin again, making it even more likely that I'll be biting it even more in the future. It's a spiral of increasing pain.

It's possibly one of the most annoying experiences in the world. The problem is, it's such a pathetic thing to get annoyed by. No matter what, when you get aggrevated by it, you feel like you're making a big fuss over nothing. Even if a squirt of blood pumped from my mouth as it happened people would still think I was making a bit of a song and dance.

Actually I've no right to speak on everyone else's behalf here. I'm only able to speak for myself. Therefore what I actually mean is; I would think I was making a song and dance. I think that's possibly worse. Your own mind is sat there inside your skull with its arms folded, wearing an indignant and unimpressed look as it says; "here he goes, making a big bloody fuss again, chew more carefully next time, p#be brain!".

It f#cking hurts though.


After all... there's plenty more fish in the sea...

If I saw a UFO coming in to land just outside my house I'd experience a complex mixture of emotions. Maybe it's because I'm English but having thought about this a lot recently I know one of them would be a unique and profound sense of embarrassment. I guess it'd be the sort of feeling you might get if some unexpected guests popped round to your house when you were sat in watching Celebrity Big Brother in your underpants. Only much, much, worse.

Imagine the sheer number of things you'd be ashamed of on planet earth if another group intelligent lifeforms popped round to visit. Nuclear war, global warming, Michael Jackson, social inequality, religion... the list goes on and on and on.

How could you explain Sept 11th? What would you tell them about the holocaust? Like it or not all of these are ideas which members of our species thought were genuinely good ones. I have a real difficulty processing that but those people in those planes thought they were doing a good thing. So did the Nazis. They thought they were the good guys*!

Not to mention all those films we've made about these 'not so unexpected' arrivals. how would you explain things like War Of The Worlds, Independance Day, Invasion Of The Bodysnatchers and E.T.? Not without blushing a little bit I'd expect.

Imagine our appointed representative being sent on board their "mothership" with his list of questions:

"Erm, right, first off The Pyramids, we thought maybe you lot had built these. I know, that all sort of seems a bit silly now but I have to ask. Also, this is a bit embarrassing but, in your spare time like, you lot haven't been secretly popping down here making crop circles and/or b*ggering cattle have you? No? Right. Finally, did you abduct the following nutjobs..."

Obviously this scenario is going to happen at some point. Intelligent life must exist outside the confines of this planet. I honestly am not sure that I want to be around when it makes contact though. I'm not sure I could stand the awkward silences.


*Or did they? This sketch made me laugh because I've though exactly the same thing. Why would people not notice the inhuman iconography of the Nazis?

Direct link.

I love people who get violent for no reason. There's nothing better than seeing them get their a#ses kicked on "COPS".

Ages ago we had a little known comedian on the Hallam FM talkshow who we knew was all set to be "the next big thing". His name was Alan Carr. We lined him up to do an interview on the show and put him on as a 'caller'. Unfortunately as I was "in character" at the time the whole thing went a bit badly and ended up with me arguing with him and then cutting him off. Although my producer at the time rang up and tried to make amends I don't think I really made a new friend that night so I'd get in and publicly congratulate him on his win recently of a South Yorkshire "Grinnie".

The new annual award was given to him after his appearance in last year's Grin Up North – The Sheffield Comedy Festival. It was decided on by a group of audience members who saw every show, and then voted on their favourite. “To win any award is great”, said Alan, “but the fact that this was voted on by members of the public makes it extra special. I’m over the moon!” The award was presented by festival programmer Toby Foster, who said that he was delighted that Alan had won. “The festival was fantastic, with some great shows, and the decision was very close, but I’m dead chuffed for Alan. I was at the gig, and he was wonderful.”

Here's a picture of him getting his award at the ceremony:

I think if I was to ever meet him face to face and the subject of the interview I did with him came up I'd probably lie to him and say he'd got me mixed up with that other Nick Margerrison bloke.


(Thursday) Grinding the wood together and looking forward to the fire.

Recently I did some stand-up comedy where I was totally unable to respond to the heckle: "you're sh#t". Minutes later I was booed off the stage, a humilliated and beaten man. Now the same thing is happening all over again only this time it's online. This morning I discovered that a Swiftian wit has jumped all over one of my YouTube entries with the following brutal line: "your f#ckin retarded".

After a few hours of thinking about it I managed to come up with this clever retort: "I do wish you'd stop posting... Mother". Woo! I think you'll agree, that's pretty hilarious. He's not really my mother at all!

Afterwards I went and checked out his videos and discovered that he was an outstanding guitar player! He'd suffered the same fate as me though, with various posters putting little sarcastic comments like "you rock dude" and "wow - you're amazing" in the comments sections of his videos. In an attempt to redress the balance and jumped to his defence with the following comment - "You two should stop being so sarcastic! I think he's doing really well".

And he is.

See for yourself:

Direct link.

The guy is obviously a genius. Granted, he's playing someone else's music, but when has that ever stopped someone, who looks as cool as he does, from climbing fame's greasy pole? I'd say he's easily up there with Herman's Hermits or Gerry and The Pacemakers.

I preserve this thought because I've just had to delete and re-load the video which he put his "retarded" post onto. It kept b#ggering up. If possible go on his account and tell him how amazing he is at guitar will you?


(Wednesday) Off to see the Lizard, the wonderful Lizard of Oz. There he is, hiding behind a curtain. Controlling everything. It's a plot.

No matter how much weight you put on over the Xmas period it's f#ck all compared to your old pal Nicholarse. I was officially weighed at Weight Watchers today and told I'd put on 10lbs! In two weeks. J#sus f#cking Christ! That's in two weeks? That cannot be healthy! Still it's proof I had a good Christmas right?

Look at the shopping I did afterwards:

All healthy sh#t there man! Just need to crack on at the gym and I reckon I'll shift a good chunk of that over the coming week. I hope so anyway. 10lbs, I swear I'm not making that up, mine was the biggest weight gain there.

Here's a question for you. Why is it that I only ever seem to have my "amazing" ideas at half four in the morning? Does it have something to do with the fact that the next day I can usually never work out what was so groundbreaking about them? I've lost count of the number of times I've stumbled about my room, in the dark, wide awake having just violently split my big toe on the MFI bookshelf I've had since I was 9, looking for a pen and a piece of paper, only to wake up the next day with a crumpled note next to me which says something like "get your hair cut really short". One of these ideas was the following video post I've just made to YouTube. As with all my posts there it's the audio of which I'm most proud but I think I'm slowly getting better at this business of cutting images to go with whatever it is I'm yakking on about. Although it's a news parody thing I've tried to make it as little like a Chris Morris sketch as possible. There's a very vague chance that this might turn into a series which I'd podcast every week or something. The first two words are the most important parts of that last sentence.

Direct link.


"Click, ting, stamps".

Have you ever wondered where those topical jokes come from that people send you as a text message or email? It clearly wasn't actually written by the wacky f#ckers who sent you it, they can't both have written the same joke. Obviously somewhere, just out of the reach of your social circle, there's a hilarious jokester feverishly writing cheap offensive news based humour and then sending it out to everyone in his address book.

Over the past few days I've looked at the brutal and horrific death of Saddam Hussein as a unique, exciting opportunity to become that person.

I started off thinking along the lines of:

Millions of people have seen pictures of Saddam Hussein being killed. It's thought that not all of them got what they expected when requesting pictures of a well hung male.

I was quite proud of that but my mate Dave Henning thought I should rephrase it as a personals ad. As a result I ended up messing about with the idea and confusing it a bit.

At the same time I was working on this angle as well: award for the world's worst New Year's day hangover goes to Saddam Hussein.

Hilarious, I'm sure you'll agree but still lacking that punch needed to turn it into a joke you'd pester someone else with. Other than these two ideas I was dealing with material which was very ropey indeed.

Today though, disaster struck. I got the following text off a mate:

Daryl forwarded me - "Dunno if ur interested but a mate of mine's got some saddam husein t-shirts for sale: bit tight round the neck, but they hang well!"

"Ruined," I thought, "that means other people are on it already I'd best think of one quick before any more come in". Then my phone beeps again this time it's Dave who's been sent one:

"Rang saddam hussein to wish him happy new year. The bastard's hung up."

B#gger. There goes the phone again, it's Daryl and his final one that he's been sent; "You can now play hangman on your phone. I'll start you off with an easy one Sad_m Hus_a_ ". Snotbags! I'm just too slow at writing jokes. I need more practice.

I suppose the question still remains, who is it that writes these things? My mate Anthony thinks they're written by professionals who are hired by the phone companies to generate text traffic. I'm not sure, I like the idea because it involves a conspiracy but it doesn't sound very realistic when you've not had a few pints. The trail of these things could easily stretch out over 100s of different people across many social networks. Maybe they reach all the way to Parliament or The Whitehouse? Those lot must be p#ssing themselves laughing at Saddam's undignified death. I look forward to the presumably ironic statements from all sides about how this isn't how they wanted it to end and so on. Makes me sick.

Here's a f#cking joke for you. At Saddam Hussein's trail they did away with the idea of "reasonable doubt" in favour of people feeling "satisfied" that the man was guilty. Here's another one for you, the trial was condemmned by BOTH the UN and the European Union as being unfair. The chorus of criticism was also added to by various human rights groups including Amnesty International. During the trial three of Saddam's lawyers have been murdered.

And what's he on trial for? Is it the crime for which he is most known? The gassing of the Kurds, the one Tony Blair keeps using as an example of what a c#nt he is? No. No it's not. It's something totally different. In fact now they've killed him, as I understand it, he'll never stand trial for those offences. He's escaped justice entirely on that front.

There's your joke for you. Our taxes paid for this farce. I hope Bloodthirsty Blair is enjoying his holiday. What a waste of time, money and human lives.


(Monday) I just can't believe how far behind I am with this f#cking thing. And, oddly enough it's sent my hit rate through the roof???

Can you remember what it felt like when you were a kid and you broke one of your mate's toys?
"Ars#warts! I've f#cked up Skelletor's left leg good and proper there! Best hide him behind the big wooden toy box underneath that old copy of the Beano... Listen, Danny, I've got to f#ckin' do one mate. Rainbow's on in ten minutes, see you later, right? I'll pop round tomorrow for a game of army or something... And I'm out, home free! Ha ha! Daft f#cker will never know it was me that sh#gged his Skelletor".

Then you get home and feel guilty about it. Or at least I did*.

All those feelings returned to me adult head today as I took the social spotlight at Daryl's party and comandered his blender. Regular readers will know I'm currently hooked on these magical devices. Misplaced excitement filled the room as I started mixing up a magic cocktail of Baileys and ice!

My drunken friends were very dissapointed.

The wackyness started kicking in and a throng of alpha males started bustling about behind me saying things like "duh, it's just f#ckin' Baileys - put something else in as well," and "hey lads, lets put some of these Ferrero Roches in eh? Won't that be wacky!". All the while I'm being a sensible adult using my big body to stop them from getting to the blender and ruining my Baileys and ice that I'm making. "But it's just Baileys and ice," they kept insisting. Put something else in. "No, no, no, you'll only break it," I'm saying as I put another chunk of ice in and switch it on. "It's a nice new blender and if you put things like that in, oh-" I said as it stopped. Just ice in it. Too much. Broken. One of the wacky brigade excitedly took the opportunity to drop a Ferrero Rocche** in and then got upset when I refused to turn it on. I think they thought I was lying when I said it was broken.

However this time I went and confessed to my friend that I'd broken their toy. Poor Daryl seemed geniunely upset that I'd ruined his new blender. I was annoyed that I'd not let the others put a chocolate in and then it would have seemed like they'd broken it. Shame.

I particularly enjoyed wearing my jacket at the party. It's a suit jacket but it's not particularly expensive. What I enjoyed about wearing it is that I think I sort of managed to put a few people's noses out of joint in an odd way. There were quite a few people who went "oh, look at him in his jacket". I liked that reaction. I'm tempted to start wearing it to other occasions where it's not needed.

Happy New Year!


The Monday Dog...

I thought I'd go for a particularly special picture that I have in my camera phone from last year's jaunt up to the Edinburgh comedy festival. This is a monument to Greyfriars Bobby a dog who spent the last 14 years of its life sat waiting on top of the grave of its owner leaving only for food. Its story is used as a testament to the bond between dog and owner. The faithful hound never giving up on its owner. A lovely story eh? A mate of mine told me that it's actually "b#llocks" but I like to think that it's true. Dogs are great. I've no doubt one of them could be this brilliant. Hooray for Greyfriars Bobby***.

*Not so guilty that I admitted to Danny when he found the crippled evil genius during a game of army the next day. And then started crying. Not a good time to 'fess up really. Thought I'd save the revelation 'til now. Then change his name to protect the wimpy sod.

** I refuse to give a sh#t how that is spelt.

***Jebodiah Springfield is also great.

(Sunday) Salmon, Herring, Coy Carp, Kippers, Cod ... I mean I could go on... there's plenty more fish in the sea...

I did my last show of the year today and it was a bit of a stinker. Sunday morning and I was really rusty. No actual mistakes but no sparkle to it either. Shame as I was looking forward to doing the show. I really enjoy work at the moment. The whole thing feels like it's moved into a different league recently. This time last year I was really f#cking misearble about the whole thing,- make of that what you will.

My DVD drive on my computer is being a c#nt. I'm starting to become a little less impressed by the standard of the BT Home IT adviser I'm subscribed to*. They seem largely to presume that you're a total f#cknut when you ring them, then their estimation of your intelligence seems to trickle down from there. Such a shame because the initial standard of service I got from them was fantastic. I was even telling other people they should sign up to it. I got an error message which intrigued me, "your DMA settings are wrong," or something. I'll ring the BT people again later in the week and see if I can't sort it out.

I'm a little bit irked that only forty people have looked at my brilliant new YouTube video compared to the sixty people who looked at the rubbish old one. That doesn't seem fair does it? "No Nick, it doesn't," you reply with your brain. "I'll go and look at it right now and tell everyone I know how f#cking amazing it is," you continue with your imagination. "Excellent," say I as I post up the Direct Link. It's an old sketch I was sort of writing to be performed with a mate but I never quite got it into shape. Fire to Ice!

So, the year rolls to an end. We're throwing a party at Daryl Denham's house tonight. I'm quite excited about it as a mate of mine is coming up as well, I'm to be best man at his wedding later next year. I'm looking forward to polishing off the speech I gave at my mate Stuart Collings's wedding. It got laughs and everything. And it wasn't rude. Excellent.


*All my blog entries have obscure and deliberately irrelevant titles. The one I've linked to here is called "The Enigma Of The Weeping Taxi Driver". They're more for my own amusement than anything else but this particular one is interesting. It's a reference to the fact that some time around that week I got in a black cab where the driver was softly crying as he drove me to my destination. I could see the tears in his eyes through the rear view mirror. Strange eh?

(Saturday) Needing the approval of idiots

Why is there no price for 3 hours parking? Surely that would be the ideal length of time to go round town? I don't understand why they don't tell you how much that would cost. Well actually I think I do understand, and maybe that's the problem*. I pay £6.50? To sit my car in a patch of land? It's everything that's f#cking wrong with the world that people don't see this as a total outrage. I agree with paying for the upkeep of the building but that's not going to cost £6.50 per car. The reason the price is so high is because it's a f#cking great big piece of p#ss scam, charging people to park their cars. Whoever thought of that is a grade "A" c#nt and they will be surrounded by equally loathsome characters, all of whom are keen to claim patronage of the idea.

Notice on the picture it says that VAT is included as well. What the flying b#llock does our Government need to get involved in the game for? How does that one work? VAT - the worst possible form of tax, hitting the poor hardest of all. Why should parking have Value Added Tax? Surely it's a good thing if the cars are parked? Not using all those fumes. What do they want people to do? Drive round and look for somewhere they can afford to park? Ruin the planet even more? Thanks to Tony Bloodthirsty Blair and his mate David Camoron**?

Landownership is the sickness which causes all of our societies social ills. The rich of this world are not the bean counters who have the most shiny baubles but the ones who own huge f#cking vast tracts of land. They let the little lightshow prattle about and watch economies rise and fall, all the while holding onto the one thing which makes them better than you. Land. Lots of land. You're a piece of sh#t on their shoe, you always have been and always will be. If they don't like you they scrape you off with extortionate rents and/or rising mortgages. Then they pull the chain and laugh as you realise that you can't play a fair game of Monopoly with some c#nt who owns the whole board, and the rule book and the house you're in playing it.

Man, I need to get onto the property ladder.


* I always get myself into a f#cking pickle when I think I understand stuff. I prefer sort of knowing but not being entirely sure. Leaving an area of doubt. You never want to totally know the answer to a question becasue then you stop thinking about it. Stopping thinking isn't good.

** Yeah baby. Political satire bites the bottom of our future leader like a hungry hellhound ascending from the chuckling comedy club of Hades! Cam - MORON! Suck on that buddy boy.

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