Fanzone.

Hands up if you love SKY Sports?

Heroes

No, not the BBC2 TV series, I mean real ones. My ones.
It's been a tough old decade for a select group of men. Sportsmen, actors, musicians, who have, at some point, made me think "Legend".

Steve Hislop, Stuart Adamson, Richard Burns, Michael Hutchence, David Jeffries, all gone, but now I have to add Colin McRae to that list. I remember 1995 very well, the year he became world champion. I videotaped every round of the World Rally Championship that year, still have them too.

At some level, I always knew that the motorbike guys were taking their life in their hands racing at places like the Isle of Man, but even though Rallying is a dangerous motorsport, Colin McRae always seemed indestructible to me.
I really didn't need to be proved wrong.

Soraidh leat, Colin.

Is it just me . . . .

. . . or is there something wrong with this photo?

I'll give you a clue, there's a red ring around it.

Yes, it's the 'serving suggestion' part.

Now pizza has been with us since the 50's when the Americans brought it over from The States along with other homegrown treats such as noodles, Guinness, and haggis. So it strikes me as odd that a frozen pizza would require a suggestion on how to serve it. What do they think we're doing with it?

Sticking it on a roll?

Boiling it to make soup?

Freezing it and topping it with hundreds & thousands?

Thar she blows!

This is astonishing!
In a list of 1000 reasons for crashing your car, I bet no one has tried this one!
Just watch it.

Balls.

Balls.

Most companies have a distinct lack of them, some companies have them but never use them, and some companies dangle a huge set of balls you never knew they had!

One such company is Vauxhall. To most people, Vauxhall means cheap, small, slightly crap, shit-box hatchbacks and the rep's favourite, the Vectra.

Imagine getting your girlfriend to drop you off at the local dealer in her three cylinder Corsa, and then following you home in your 540bhp VXR8!

540bhp!

Yes, you can stroll into your local Vauxhall dealer, chat about the merits of a diesel Astra, then calmly walk off in a 6 litre supercharged V8 monster saloon!

I know it's just an imported Holden, but it's cool all the same!

In the words of Aretha Franklin . . .

R.E.S.P.E.C.T.

Money talks, bullshit walks!

Today I had a job interview with the mighty Walmart group at their facility in Falkirk.
Everything was going well until we got the factory tour. One of the 'colleague candidates' was a woman, one of the 'mumsy' type who did nothing but try to be chatty and friendly towards everyone. I wanted to kill her. Within the first minute of meeting her I knew she had 3 kids, her husband (Barry) was a policeman, and that her dog had to get put down on Monday. I bet Barry must be jealous of the dog!

To cut a long story short, I totally aced the interview. I know that makes me sound arrogant, but I just know I did, I'm good at that sort of shit. The chap who interviewed me was around my age, travels about the same distance to work as I do, liked live music gigs like me also, so straight away I could appear relaxed and open with him, talk freely without babbling, etc etc. I'll get a call in a couple of days telling me they want me to start.

Not going to though. The place is spotless, very hi-tech, interesting, and local, but the money is totally shite! I make more now than I would on their highest rate of pay including shift allowance. I'd need to do loads of overtime to make what I make on my basic pay, and as they say "Show me the money!"

That's that idea fecked!

The Sum Of All Fears!

Picture the scene. I shut the front door behind me, lock it, get out my car keys, jump over the wall outside my house, and then I hear it . . . . SSKRSSSSHHH!

I look down.

The iPod that was in my pocket is on the pavement.

In a million pieces.

Option 1 - Panic.
Option 2 - Scream.
Option 3 - Gingerly pick up the pieces, phone your mate to say you won't be coming over after all, get out the tweezers and pray.
Option 4 - All of the above

I went for option 4. Luckily, thanks to my technical skills, I managed to revive the patient, just like Dr House.

(PS - That's not a pic of my actual iPod, but it gets the idea accross)

(PPS - The head is fine today, by the way. Thanks for your concern)

Today . . .

. . . has not been a good day. I felt the first stirrings of the prodrome phase of a migraine attack as soon as I woke up, the fogginess, the irritability, sensitivity to light etc etc. Then aound noon, BANG! Houston, we have a problem!

For those of you who've never suffered from a migraine, it's not JUST a headache. It's totally incapacitating. I've been unable to eat, to sleep, to concentrate, even unable to surf the net. All I've been able to do is lie down in a dark room and try and ignore the nausea and the blinding pain behind my left eye. It's always the fucking left eye!

I've suffered from infrequent migraines most of my adult life, but this one was easily the worst I've had in the past decade. No amount of pain killers will make the slightest dent in it, in fact all you can really do is hope that you'll feel better in the morning. Looks like it's an early night for me then!