Poofters

Just to show you what a bunch of gay-ass poofters some of this nations Premiership football 'stars' are, I've blatantly ripped off Motorcycle News and compiled a small table of injured 'athletes' compared to young Bradley Smith, Britain's up and coming 125cc racer:

Gary Neville (2002) broken 5th metatarsal, predicted 6-8 week recovery, returned 21 weeks later.

Ashley Cole (2005) broken 5th metatarsal, predicted 6-8 week recovery, returned after 12 weeks.

Michael Owen (2006) broken 5th metatarsal, predicted 6-8 week recovery, returned 12 weeks later.

David Beckham (2002) broken 5th metatarsal, predicted 6-8 week recovery, returned after 7 weeks.

Wayne Rooney (2004) 5th metatarsal, predicted 6-8 week recovery, returned 14 weeks later.

Bradley 'I Feel No Pain' Smith (2008) broken 5th metatarsal, predicted 6-8 week recovery, returned 22 HOURS later!

17 years old and he's a legend already!

Summer's here . . .

. . . so what other excuse do you need to enjoy the greatest song ever written?

Enjoy.

Charidee

Charities. They do a lot of good work, I get it. They need pots of cash to do said good work, I get that too, but one of the charities I support, the Whale & Dolphin Conservation Society are really starting to get on my sizeable man tits. Every few months they call me up, hit me with some sob story about how things are particularly difficult right now and could I up my monthly contribution by another £10 a month?

"No."

Then I get yet more sob story followed by a request to up my contribution by another £5 pounds a month?

"No."

This didn't go down too well, neither did my question about why the charity weren't out recruiting new donors instead of begging to their existing ones like a friend with a crack habit.

I support a few other charities, one of which is Riders For Health, a charity set up by the legend that is Randy Mamola to help medical care get into the wilds of Africa. They never call me begging for more cash, they always thank me for my contribution, they send me a quarterly news letter explaining exactly where my cash goes, and rather than play the guilt card, they actually make donating fun.

I got so pissed of with the whale huggers that I cancelled my monthly donation today. I think the woman on the other end of the phone would have had less contempt for me if I'd called up and told her that I'd just had violent reverse cowgirl intercourse with the entire maternity ward at my local hospital!

It looks like Sparta, my adopted Humpback whale, is on her own.

Swim Sparta, swim!
Swim away from men with slanty eyes and Kung Po Chicken, my cetacean friend!!

Black Gold

I hope all the environmentalists out there will be relieved to know that the diesel leak that the Exxon Valdez sprung last week has now been fixed, and all it took was a twist of the wrist and two sharp bangs with a big hammer. Fiscal disaster averted.

Car Sick

This guy really needs to get out more.

Polish My Helmet: Part 2

There's a good chance that even if you've never even so much as looked at a motorcycle, you'll know who Valentino Rossi is. He's the greatest motorcycle racer that's ever walked the face of the earth, he's the 9th highest earning athlete in the world, he has the largest fan club of ANY sportsman or woman, and as far as I'm concerned he's a god that walks amongst us. One of the good things about Rossi is that he is an open book. When things are going bad for him in racing, he keeps to himself and acts like the true professional that he is, but when things go his way, as they very often do, he turns into a teenager again and becomes a comedian.

Tomorrows race at Mugello in Italy is his home race and has one of the longest straights of any track that the MotoGP circus visits, well over 200mph on the straight. With this in mind, the clown prince of bike racing unveiled a new helmet design today, and I pissed myself laughing everytime his gurning mug appeared on the tv screen! Click here to see what I mean.

I've had all I can stands, I can't stands no more!

The cost of fuel in this country is now becoming ridiculous. I filled up yesterday, a task that I carry out three times a month just to get to work, at the exorbitant price of £1.27.9 a litre of Diesel (for those in the US I think this equates to approximately $9.58 a gallon).

This simply cannot continue. I've watched the price of a litre of diesel rise by over 10p in the last three weeks, and only the very naive would believe that this price will ever drop, it's here to stay. Yet the government continues to push for a 2p increase in fuel tax! What the fuck is going on!?

I've been with my current employer now for seven years, and I'm now having to look for a new job closer to home because I can't afford to buy a house nearer my work and I can't afford to stay here and drive the 80 miles a day that I currently commute!

I get the environment message, I get the fact that we need to be weaned off oil, I can see the big picture, but punishing the motorist in the short term is NOT the fucking answer.
I work shifts so there's no public transport available at the times I work, therefore I MUST take my car. I have a car that does over 50mpg, and yet my road tax has went up, my insurance has went up, Diesel has went up. I'm rapidly approaching the point where 1/5 of my net pay goes simply to get me to my place of work.

I try to keep politics out of my blog as I think that ALL politicians are self-obsessed, conniving, egotistical, lying bastards, but this is the final straw. Gordon Brown is fucked. Dead man walking.

Now where did I put that car that runs on water . . .

Indiana Jones and The Milking Of The Golden Cash Cow

Myself and The Demon went to see 'Indiana Jones and the Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull' at the weekend and I have a message for Steven Spielberg. After hearing him pontificating on tv about how this movie was "for the fans", I'm afraid I have to tell him that I'm a fan and I thought it was rubbish.
Don't get me wrong, in isolation it's an ok action/adventure movie, but after watching the original three Indiana Jones movies in the weeks up to the release of the new one, I have to say that it's easily the poorest of the four.
I think the problem lies with the fact that they have deviated from the tried and trusted path that the originals followed, a path worn by the best of the 60's and 70's adventure movies like 'Doc Savage: The Man Of Bronze'. The thing I always enjoyed about the original Indy movies was that you could almost believe the plot, you could stretch your imagination round the Ark of The Covenant, or The Holy Grail, but the new movie is just one great big fantasy CGI festival.
Gone are the days of filming in places that I have actually been to, and hello to pixel manipulation of the highest order. Not even the token gesture of including Karen Allen to reprise her role as 'Marion Ravenwood' or Ray Winstone as the pointless character 'Mac' can lift the rather slow plot, and I have to say that this is the only Indy move where I didn't want to be Indiana Jones. He looks every one of his 65 years, yet is still able to take a beating like Joe Calzaghe!

You'd really think that after 'The Phantom Menace' debacle, George Lucas might have whispered in Steven Spielberg's ear "Hey Steve, you can never go back.", but no, here we are again, flogging the dead horse, milking the cash cow, and pissing off real Indy fans.
Like the dinosaurs, some things are better left dead.

Poor.
6/10

Brains

Genius.

I can think of no other word to describe this.

"Take her in slowly, Sulu"

Sulu is gay?!

Where the fuck did that come from??
All these years watching Star Trek and now Heroes, I didn't see that one coming!


This week I'm liking 'This Is An Emergency' by The Pigeon Detectives.

Good vs Evil

I'm definitely rocking more than I used to. I dunno if it's may age, or maybe some latent anger building up in me, but I've been kneeling at the altar of the great AC/DC all weekend, and verily, a good weekend it has surely been.
Therefore, I'd like to submit what I consider to be the greatest 4 minutes and 20 seconds of guitar based popular music that there has ever been. Enjoy.


PS - See below for blasphemy of the highest magnitude!

Retirement

Its always a bitter-sweet moment when you get a new car. The passing of an old friend and the welcoming of a new one.
So say hello to the new member of the Inch fleet. She's a year 2000 Citroen Xsara 2.0 HDi that I picked up on ebay for the princely sum of £900. She's destined to replace my old Citroen Xantia TD that you can see in the background, which has easily been the best car I've ever had. Over the last 7 years and 130,000 miles I came to love 'The Taxi' as the old girl is affectionately known as, but time moves on. Au revoir, mon ami.

Blade Runner

I was pleased to hear that South African athlete Oscar Pistorius has won his appeal to be allowed to compete against able bodied athletes for a place in the Beijing Olympics. I'm pleased because I think that if he can make the qualifying time, which he so far has been unable to do, then he should definitely be allowed to race. There are others however, who think that it's unfair to people with feet if he runs against them.
The debate seems to revolve around whether he's disabled or augmented.
If he's disabled and his carbon fibre blades are helping him to achieve speeds and times that he may well have achieved had he been born with feet, then fine, he's an elite athlete and has every right to make a bid for Olympic glory.
On the other hand, if he's augmented and his blades improve his performance and give him an advantage against able bodied runners, then no, he shouldn't go to Beijing.

Personally, it seems to me that the IAAF, the body that governs world athletics, are out to get the Blade Runner and stop him competing no matter what. I hope he gets to China and wipes the fucking floor with the competition!

Robert Dunlop

Another hero gone.
Another member of the Dunlop family no longer with us.
Sad times indeed.

Robert Dunlop
1960 - 2008

Halfrauds

"Hi, I have a part to pick up. I ordered it yesterday"
"Yes sir, what's the name?"
"I am The Inchmeister."
"Here you are sir."
"Wait a moment, young metrosexual shop assistant, this thermostat was supposed to come with a gasket!"
"Sorry sir, that's all that came with the order."
"I specifically asked if it came with a gasket. Your other metrosexual shop assistant actually phoned and asked if it came with one. He said it did."
"I'm sorry sir, on my screen it says 'no gasket included'."
"Well we are at an impasse, young man."
"I'm sorry, all I can do is give you your £14.60 as a refund?"
"Please do."

Time passes.

"Hello sir, welcome to Citroen Falkirk, how can I help you?"
"I wish to purchase a thermostat AND gasket for a Xantia Turbo Diesel, please."
"Certainly sir, I have it here, and it includes the gasket. That'll be £12.99 please."

Here endeth the lesson.

I Am Livid! . . . . Again!

I have just discovered that the upcoming JJ Abrams film 'Star Trek' will not, I repeat NOT, feature the considerable acting talents of the Worlds Greatest Living Canadian, William Shatner!

I can hear you all now gasp and say "Inchy, what the fuck is the director thinking about?!"

I know!
The Shatner IS captain James Tiberius Kirk, and always will be!
Not only that, but he's been in the tv show with the greatest ever theme tune (featured above), and his 2004 album 'Has Been' is fucking magnificent. Just check out his interpretation of Pulp's 'Common People' bellow (Joe Jackson on vocals, Ben Folds on keyboard).

Come on Mr Abrams, Starfleet won't be saved without the Shatner. He boldly goes where no other 76 year old, horse breeding, poker playing, Canadian has gone before!

Iron Man

'Iron Man' was a Marvel cartoon character that went largely unnoticed in the UK. Unless you lived up here in Scotland and watched Glen Michael's Cartoon Cavalcade on a Sunday afternoon, the chances are you've never really heard of him, but clearly that's all changed now that the Hollywood blockbuster of the same name has hit our screens.
Myself and The Demon watched it last night and I have to say that I enjoyed it, but for all the wrong reasons.

The bad points:
The plot is the traditional action movie fare, the CGI is as obvious as Karl Malden's nose, the action sequences are as far fetched as The Matrix, the Stars & Stripes is everywhere, it's an Audi product placement festival, and anyone who speaks English with a foreign (i.e. not American) accent is clearly evil and must die.

The good points:
Robert Downey Jnr.

The film is entirely carried by Robert Downey Jnr, he's excellent in it. Without him, it would slide into the septic tank of action movie anonymity that films like Daredevil, Electra, and all the Batman movies up until the last one, have plopped into. I actually struggle to think of many other actors, who could have saved this film, because RDJ (it's easier to type) is actually quite a rare thing in Hollywood these days. He's cheeky but likeable. That's the best way I can describe how I think of him, and I hope that's a description that works internationally. Sure, he's damaged goods, but from doing jail time in 1999 and being fired from Ally McBeal in 2001 for substance abuse, he's made a rather spectacular comeback. It just goes to show that, unlike Rob Lowe, the "public" will forgive almost anything as long as you have a nice smile. By all means, get wasted on drugs, just don't fuck a 16 year old.

Squeeze, don't pull.

I'm developing a rather bizarre obsession with machine guns. Military spec fully automatic assault weapons to be exact, and strangely, there may be one or two others who share my love of big bad bang sticks. I'm not really sure where this desire came from or why, but it's there alright. Just looking above at the Heckler & Koch HK417 assault rifle with 12" barrel, telescopic sight, night vision adapter, folding bipod and a sound moderator (silencer), is enough to make me feel all wobbly in my gentleman's area. I find myself browsing 'Guns & Ammo' or 'World Guns' muttering to myself "If I win the Lotto, I'm having me one of those!"

Now I like to think of myself as a level headed sort of chap. I play ultra-violent video games and watch a lot of Hollywood action movies, but to date I've violently killed no one. Nada. Zilch. Zero.
I haven't really been in a fight since high school, and I think it's fair to say that I don't really have a bad bone in my body, and wish no harm to anyone. Except maybe Lily Allen, but she's just asking for it. Yet I still have this yearning for the smell of gun oil and the feel of a big weapon in my hands! (Behave)

I don't want to shoot anything alive, just some baked bean tins and Budweiser bottles.
It's not too much to ask.

. . . is it?

Batteries Included

Whilst driving home today I heard a debate on the radio regarding potentially 50,000 Police men and women in the UK being armed with Taser guns. For anyone who's been living on a kibbutz for the last decade, a Taser gun, like the X26 mounted under the barrel of this rather sexy assault rifle, is a non-lethal weapon capable of incapacitating the most determined violent criminal by pumping 50,000 volts into them.

"But Tasers have been linked to over 70 deaths in the USA and Canada." says the bleeding-heart, limp wristed, tree hugging, human rights campaigner on the radio.

Wow, really? Over 70 deaths, you say?
Well statistically that's not bad considering that Tasers have been in service since 1993 and that that the Police in the US alone probably pop a cap in double that many people in a few days!

"If you Taser someone, you don't know if that person has a pace maker." adds wet-blanket boy.

True, but The Demon's brother is a cop, and I've seen his truncheon (oo er!). It's the tried and trusted method of incapacitation currently favoured by most UK police officers, and pace maker or not, being fucked over the head by a long steel bar is bad news no matter what physical condition you're in!

All of which is, quite frankly, preamble alongside my main point. If you're doing something that warrants a police officer deploying his Taser, then it's you're own fucking fault if your heart explodes in your chest or your brain turns to haggis.
I do believe it's MY human right not to have my shit stolen.
I do believe it's MY human right not to be assaulted.

Zzapp!
Eat pavement, asshole!

Casa Inchy

Feeling energised by Sky Clearbrook's latest post (nice view Mr C) and with very little else happening at the moment, I thought that I'd purloin his idea and show you the view from the kitchen window of Casa Inchy.

I've labelled the main points of interest.

A - The 'Shed Of Dreams'. This is where the magic happens and where the two-wheeled beasts that take up a major part of my life (and my income) sleep. Currently smelling of chips due to the 200 litres of used cooking oil sitting in the corner.

B - The whirlygig. No garden would be complete without one. Directly behind is the brick flowerbed that The Demon's father, Big Gazza Stevens, built during a fit of DIY and Gin. Immediately behind that is the picnic table that The Demon sat down at last week to study German in the sun. The table gave way instantly, depositing The Demon on her arse. How we laughed.

C - Here you can make out two of the three waste bins we have. I haven't got a fucking clue what goes where, so it all goes in the green one.

D - The Demon's shed. This used to be mine before The Batcave was constructed. It is now full of 'nice things'.

E - The remains of a futon that was kindly donated by Jaggy. I'm holding on to the frame because it's what old men describe as "a good bit of wood".

. . . and yes, I know the grass needs cut, but she's not home yet.

Listening to 'Match Box' by The Kooks.

не вызовите нас, мы вызовет вас

Dasvedanya, sayonara, arrivederci, ciao, au revoir, and goodbye, Ken.

Don't look so glum, we'll be sure to call you the next time we want something fucked up beyond all recognition.

Come and have a go if you think you're hard enough!

It's not often that my wee country can hold it's head up and shout "Look at us!", but from the 6th to the 8th of June that's exactly what we'll be doing when the mountain bike World Cup comes to Fort William.
Now mountain biking is definitely 'my thing' so I'm not trying to convert anyone, but I think I'm entitled to shout about my homeland and about how good a show we can put on.
Mountain biking is big news in Scotland, mostly due to our landscape seemingly custom designed for it. Bizarrely, we also seem to have the right backing, from the right government agencies, all at the right time! (That means you, Forestry Commission!)
Glentress Forest regularly wins awards, indeed it was voted Worlds Best Trail in 2005, and (thank fuck!) it's only an hour from my home.
So if you found that video exciting, and you fancy a weekend away, come and give us a go. We're not all hoodie wearing, Buckfast swilling, knife carrying, thugs. Honest.

Impregnable

"Hello, you're through to ******* Bank, Shamika speaking, how may I help you?"

"Hi Shamika, I've lost my bank card." (Schoolboy error, I know!)

Ok, I just need to ask you some security questions."

"Fire away."

"Ok, what's your postcode?"

"It's ******."

"Correct. What's your date of birth?"

"It's **/**/****."

"Correct. You've passed your security check."

Well there's no way that the hardened identity thief will ever foil that fortress of security! I may as well just hide all my cash and valuables in the toe of my shoe!

Listening to 'Ride' by The Vines.

Engage!

Ooh, the excitement is mounting, can't you feel it? No? You mean you aren't on the edge of your seat, breathless with anticipation, as a team of scientists just outside Geneva fire up the Large Hadron Collider? Have you been hiding under a rock?

For those that don't know what it is:

"The LHC is the latest and most powerful in a series of particle accelerators that, over the last 70 years, have allowed us to penetrate deeper and deeper into the heart of matter and further and further back in time. The next steps in the journey will bring new knowledge about the beginning of our Universe and how it works, as the LHC recreates, on a microscale, conditions that existed billionths of a second after the birth of our Universe."

Sounds exciting, doesn't it!

The only problem is that no one really knows what'll happen when the men in white coats press the on button next month. Some say nothing will happen, some say the fabled Higgs boson will appear, and others claim that we might tear a hole in the fabric of this dimension, letting loose the denizens of hell, opening a black hole, and causing the destruction of the entire solar system!

I hope it's live on Sky!


Listening to 'Club Foot' by Kasabian.

I Love To Hate You

No, not the Erasure song. What's the one thing about your wife/girlfriend/husband/boyfriend/significant other, that really drives you up the wall, that really makes you livid to the point where you'd actually say "I am fucking livid!"?

For me it's The Demon's habit of obsessive tidiness. I don't just mean that she like to do a bit of household cleaning, oh no, if only, no she tidies things constantly. I can't lay something down for 5 minutes bar it's 'tidied'. If I kick my trainers off, as I like to do when lying on the couch, she looks at me like I've taken a shit on the carpet!

. . . but that is only half the problem.

When something is 'tidied' by The Demon, it has maybe a 70% chance of ever being found again. This happens regularly.

"Where's my (insert random object here)?"

"Erm . . . I put it somewhere."

"Where?"

"Somewhere safe."

"At the risk of repeating myself, where?"

"Erm . . . don't know, I'm watching Home & Away right now, I'll find it later."

. . . of course she never does.
This drives me fucking insane. TV remotes, bits for cameras, money, tickets, you name it, they've all found there way into her tidiness netherworld, never to return.

I look forward to finding out that I'm not alone.

Cam for me baby!

Today myself and the rest of the middle aged teenagers headed off to the glory that is Glentress Mountain Bike Centre, but today we took along a new toy, an Oregon Scientific 'Action Cam'.
Now I don't claim to be Martin Scorcese, but I gave it my best shot, and from the 43 minutes I shot, this 4 minute vid is about the only remotely salvageable part.
In this clip is my friend trying to be 17 again, and I have the camera behind him.
It's not the best, granted, and next time I'll mount it on my helmet (oo er!) which should be a bit smoother and with less vibration than on the handlebars, but for a first effort I'm reasonably happy. It's a hefty file so it may take a while to load.

The audio track is the excellent 'Hundred Mile High City' by Ocean Colour Scene.

A better quality copy can be viewed here.

Relax, I'm just being a bloke.

Bright Ambassador got me thinking about FHM's 100 Sexiest Women list, and sadly, I only know who 42 of the ladies in question actually are.

My top 5 would read like this:

5: Claire Forlani.
Sadly now married to the lump of wood that is Dougray Scott.
4: Jo Frost.
Supernanny can potty train me any time she likes!
3: Joanna Lumley.
She had it then and she still has it now.
2: Jane Seymour.
That's her daughter in the pic, who'd get £20 and told to get lost for a few hours.
1: Suzi Perry.
She knows about gadgets and digs bikes. Can't really top that.

If you're offended by the sexist nature of this post, then please don't come crying to me when there's a spider in the bath.

Cujo

I suppose you could call this post a product review, but I'd prefer to call it a warning. As you may remember from an earlier post, The Demon, my 'bidey in' as us Scots would say, did the monthly big shopping all on her lonesome and one of the products she returned brandishing was this, Aquafresh Iso-Active Foaming Gel Toothpaste (fresh mint), which is quite a mouthful in more than one way.
Now I'm sure some of you will be aware of the foam gel soaps that appeard a few years ago. A tiny wee squirt on your hand soon turns in to way more lather than you originally were hoping for, well this is the same except it happens in your gob. I dispensed my usual amount on the end of the brush (an Oral-B Pulsar, the champions choice) and proceeded to brush in a vigorous manner alternating between vertical and horizontal strokes. 10 seconds later I looked like I had Rabies! Minty foam spraying from my gob like some bizarre Von Neumann machine from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory!
I have to tell you, I've looked better.

Retail Therapy

It doesn't take much to put a smile on my face!

Anarchy In The UK

Well in Scotland anyway. This is the view from the Millennium Falcon TDi at Morrisons petrol station in East Kilbride at around 2:30pm today, and what you are seeing is hysteria.

A part of the Grangemouth oil refinery will be going on strike next week for 48 hours, but the media have fuelled the flames (pardon the pun) of the already perpetually scared 'man in the street' to the point where people are panic buying. I had to queue for twenty fucking minutes to get some diesel for the Falcon, and everyone around me were filling their tanks to the brim. One guy was even filling a jerry can! I have a few friends who work at the plant in question, so I spent my waiting time texting them with messages like "You are a really bad person, look what you've done, you selfish highly paid process operator!" It had the desired result.

I can't help wondering how many people have done a u-turn on their anti-war principals.

"Sure the war in Iraq is unlawful and abhorrent, that's why I protested against it, but dude, I ain't giving up my Audi TT for no fucking arabs!"

For anyone who is hard of thinking, relax. Normal service will be resumed in the morning.

Don't ask!

This one's for you, Emma!

In Bruges

Myself and The Demon went to the cinema last night, and unlike Jaggy, we had a very enjoyable cinematic experience. This was largely due to the fact that we went to see 'In Bruges', starring Colin Farrell, Brendan Gleeson, and Ralph Feinnes. It's the story of two Irish hit men who are sent by their boss to lie low in Bruges after a botched hit in London, and I thought it was fantastic.

It's a wee bit difficult to pigeon hole this film. It's a bit dark, a bit comedic, a bit of a thriller. I really enjoyed it and I thought that the three main characters were excellent in their roles, yes, even Colin Farrell.
Ignore Jaggy, go and see it. 10/10


This week I'm liking 'Not Nineteen Forever' by The Courteeners.

"Kiss the the floor, bitch!"

Am I the only one who finds the case of Andrew Ibrahim, the white 19 year old Islamic convert who's had all his shit blown up in controlled explosions, slightly bizarre and just a wee bit funny?

The police raided his house after "covert inquiries prompted by an intelligence tip-off."

A tip off??

His name is Andrew IBRAHIM! That's as good a reason as any for a small chat 'down the station', I reckon.

This is from the BBC News website, it's great!

Next-door-neighbour Rachel Clifford told BBC News that she met the suspect only recently, after she knocked on the door to complain about loud, Islamic-sounding music. She said the man who answered the door had first had to unlock 10 or 12 different bolts and he was wearing white Islamic dress.

"I remember feeling quite unnerved, I just wanted to say my piece and get out of there."

That's the kind of plucky, have-a-go, Dunkirk spirited, local hero that we need in the current 'War On Terror'. If Rachel Clifford had been packing a Brugger & Thomet TP-9 with integrated HK MP5 TL-99 Surefire G2 Tactical Light (standard SAS issue), under her cardigan, then we might not have had this disruption in the first place.

My Inner Child

It's impossible to watch this without smiling and singing along.

Rude Awakening

I'm a bit grumpy today. Lack of sleep generally has that effect on me you see. The lovely Grace, who lives next door, is having a new fitted kitchen installed this week. Now that's not a problem. She came and explained to us last week that there was going to be a lot of work going on and that she was sorry for the noise, but the Poles that are fitting it have started bang on 8 o'clock every day. Again, because of my shifts, there was only a 50/50 chance that I'd be at home to be annoyed by the noise, unfortunately it's the wrong 50. On back shift I get home around 11:45pm and generally head off to bed around 2ish, so being woken up at around 8am has left me in a bit of a mood.

On the plus side, Siegfried & Roy from upstairs have finally disposed of their old shitty toilet that has lain outside the building since last summer, and all it took was a "When the fuck are you going to move that toilet?"

First 5 shuffled tracks from my 80's iPod playlist while I was driving home last night:

1: 'Drowning In Berlin' - The Mobiles

2: 'Big In Japan' - Alphaville

3: 'Eigth Day' - Hazel O'Connor

4: 'The Futures So Bright I Gotta Wear Shades' - Timbuk3

5: 'I'm Falling' - Comsat Angels

Schoolboy Error

"I'm just going to do the shopping tonight when you're at work" said The Demon.

We usually do the food shopping together and in person, not online like some lazy people I could, but won't, mention, but I'm back shift this week so can't be there.

"Ok" says I.

This was my first mistake. My second was not compiling a list of tasty foodstuffs for The Demon to purchase. As a result of my negligence we now have a fridge full of things like humus, feta cheese, and Quorn. I don't even know what Quorn is, no one does. I think it's the food equivalent of a bad cover version.
No steak, no smoked bacon, no pizzas, and she still managed to spend £140!
One is not amused.

I need another weekend

I've had a busy weekend, which is something I usually try to avoid. I like to do as little as possible at weekends, as is my want.

Anyway, the sun was out and MotoGP qualifying had just finished so Saturday afternoon found me tearing off to Edinburgh on the bike where I ordered a new Arai 'Chaser' helmet from the Hein Gericke shop. A slice of carbon fibre loveliness. Upon returning home The Demon said "Would you like to go out for dinner, my treat?" The obvious answer was "Too fucking right I would!" so off to 'Behind The Wall' we headed where I planned to consume as much as was humanly possible. I started my free feast with Haggis Chimmis, which seemed to be haggis wrapped in a flour tortilla and then deep fried, served with salad and a garlic mayonnaise dip. Lovely. The Demon had her default starter, garlic bread with cheese. On to the main course and I plumped for something called Dixie Chicken, which was strips of chicken breast in corn crumbs with a BBQ dip, salad, and mash. It hit the spot. The Demon had penne pasta in a crème cheese sauce, which, as usual, she ate about a third of, I scoffed the rest.
By this point I just wanted to curl up somewhere and have a little nap, but oh no, the fun didn't end there.

We then headed off to see the new Kevin Spacey film '21', which I have to say I really enjoyed. It's a wee bit long at two hours and you can guess the ending after the first 30 minutes, but it's based on an interesting true story, it's filmed well, and has Kate Bosworth (above), who would get it from every possible angle, in it. Kevin Spacey, as he always does, steals the film. His acting skills are hardly challenged, it must be said, but I'm going to go on record as saying that he's probably one of the best actors of the last 15 or 20 years. 8/10

Sunday. All I really wanted to do was lie on the couch and watch the MotoGP from Estoril. Instead I was picked up at 9am by the Cram brothers, mountain bike on the roof of the car, and off to do the Carron Valley mountain bike trails. It's no Glentress, but it's 20 minutes from where I live and has a really good end to the run with high speed berms and some really good jumps. We ended up doing it three times until Young Cram crashed and mashed his elbow. It was hilarious. There's nothing funnier than other peoples misery.

I'm now completely shattered and I'm going to lie on my couch for the rest of the evening. Bliss.

This week I am mostly listening to 'Always where I need to be' by The Kooks, and 'Great DJ' by The Ting Tings.

Minging

Is it just me, or is Renee Zellweger a bit of a minger?
I've just been watching her gush forth on how great it was to work with George Clooney on their new film 'Leatherheads', and all I kept thinking was:

"You really are quite strange looking, and not in a good 'Milla Jovovich' kind of way."

She looks like she's been sitting a bit close to the fire and has just started to melt a little.
She'd still get it though!

Yamelo

For the last few days I have become completely obsessed with a website called Yamelo.
Simply put, it's a timeline of popular music. Select your county, drag the slider to your year of choice, and you're greeted with a huge selection of music videos from that year. It's more addictive than crack!

I guarantee you'll discover gems you'd forgotten all about, gems like 'Love Is A Wonderful Colour' by The Icicle Works from January 1984. You can even create your own playlists of videos, it's fucking excellent.

This is exactly the kind of stuff I want from "Web 2.0". Huge databases of just stuff, stuff that I can access 24/7. Free.

Every episode of Metal Mickey?
Got it.
All of Karel Fialka's albums?
Got it.
The pilot of 'Hardcastle and Mccormack'?
Got it.

That kids tv show on BBC1 that I can't remember the name of, that had kids in a futuristic classroom with their hair all slicked back trying to figure out a mystery?

Got it.

Are you listening Bill Gates?!

Seven Tears

Not much happening right now, so I'll leave you all with 'Seven Tears' by The Goombay Dance Band.

Sing along, y'all! (unless you are Australian)

"God damn you all to hell!"

Charlton Heston

1924 - 2008

“It's been quite a ride. I loved every minute of it.”

It's January 25th, in case you don't know.

It's Tartan Week over the pond in New York, a week long celebration of all things Scottish. This is a good thing. We're an extremely small nation who need all the promotion and marketing that we can get, but we do have a very strong identity and pride, or so I thought.

School kids over here are currently on holiday, or 'spring break' as they are now calling it.
Spring Break?!
This isn't 'The O.C.'
This isn't 'Dawson's Creek'.
They don't have a 'School Disco' any longer, where they'd get on their best clobber and spend the evening trying not to dance with each other. Oh no, we now have a 'Prom Night' where they wear gowns and tuxedos and arrive in stretch limos. I have no problem with American culture, but it's not MY culture. My high school used to have a Burns Supper every year, and it was great. Kilts, haggis, and poetry. I'd be amazed if high school students could even tell me when a Burns Supper was supposed to be held. I find that quite disappointing.

Righteous Kill

The two greatest Hollywood actors of the modern era don't get together very often, in fact I think it's only happened once before in the 1995 Michael Mann movie 'Heat', so it's with some anticipation that I'm looking forward to 'Righteous Kill' later on this year.
The only drawback so far seems to be that 50 Cent is also in it. Still, can't win 'em all.

The Cult of Inchy

After my post the other day about the film 'Cellular' and the fine line between a movie being a shit film and a cult film, I thought I'd give you the top five cult dvd's that I own. Now I'm a bit of a sci-fi geek and as such my dvd collection reflects that. Anyway, in no particular order, here we go.

Films from the IKEA shelving unit.


1. 'Dark Star' - 1974

It's the story of the crew of a ship that protects mankind by blowing up unstable planets, except that one of their bombs thinks it's God. Go figure.

2. 'Real Genius' - 1985

Val Kilmer is a super-genius student duped into designing a weapon by his teacher. He and his fellow students decide to get their own back "with hilarious results!"

3 'Dune' - 1984

David Lynch's adaptation of Frank Herbert's cult novel of a future empire and the galaxy's supreme being. There are at least 3 versions of this film, and I have all of them, but the original Lynch version is by far the best.

4. 'Equilibrium' - 2002

"But it's just like The Matrix!" I hear you cry. Bollocks. This is a superb futureworld movie. Very 1984ish, but the 'Gun Kata' sequences are superb. Cult classic.

5. 'Saturn 3' - 1980

A movie about a killer robot with a hardon, and featuring the most unlikely trio of actors ever seen in a sci-fi film. Harvey Keitel, Kirk Douglas, and Farrah Fawcett.

Anybody got any others?

For the love of God, hang up!

I love shit films. Most of my DVD collection would be regarded by many as being shite of the highest order, but I love them. Films like Dune, Real Genius, and Legend, all of which bombed at the cinema, but in my little world have something redeeming about them. Unfortunately the film 'Cellular' won't be making it into my DVD collection despite meeting the shite criteria, and having William H. Macy, Jessica Biel, and Kim Basinger in it.

This film is beyond bad. It's just shit.

I shall explain.

Kim Basinger, who is just ridiculously sexy throughout, is kidnapped by the lump of mahogany that is Jason Statham and his merry band of thugs. Locked in an attic, she manages to make a smashed phone work, and instead of dialing 911, or the FBI, or even, I dunno, HER HUSBAND, she calls a number at random and gets through to random stranger Chris Evans of Human Torch/Fantastic 4 fame. What then takes place for the next 90 minutes or so is some of the worst acting/dialogue/plot that I have ever come across, and features product placement by Nokia and Porsche that even a blind man could spot. Young Chris, naturally, races to help poor Kim, and, as I'm sure we all would faced with a team of ruthless armed men, decides to 'have a go'.

Dear oh dear.

There's a fine line between 'shite' and 'cult'.