Won't Get Fooled Again

Is it that time already? Not 5 minutes ago I was bragging about my prowess with a bit of dead pig, and now here we are, many weeks later, not so smug, having burnt the turkey. Having burnt the turkey so badly, even the moggies turned their noses up at it. For years I used Delias method, this year I used Jamie Olivers..............disaster. It has taken some getting over.

What else has been happening? Well, the transfer window has opened and closed and Blues,once again,managed to balls up the seemingly simple task of buying a centre half, while at the same time losing two right backs. There are those amongst the Blues brethren who are bit fed up about this. I'm not...........it all adds to lifes rich tapestry.

Carol Thatcher and Jeremy Clarkson displayed their wit for all the world to see and there has been uproar. I can't stand Clarkson, but you know, he is what he is and he appeals to a particular,lumpen demographic, which loves his prosaic take on a complex world. He has a way with a turn of phrase, so, well,let him be. If you don't like it, ignore it.

The loudly braying half wit Thatcher is another matter. She is where she is simply because of who she is. She displays all the worst traits of Clarkson without having the saving grace of a witty way with words. If she cannot see that the use of the word golliwog is offensive she is as daft as she is cabbage looking. I was prompted to renew acquaintance with this little blog after reading loads of accounts by black people of how they find the word offensive, and thinking, I must blog that, with appropriate links. But it doesn't need links. If you cannot understand why that word is so offensive, you are in a privileged position, and I urge you to have a little think about others, who may not be in such a comfortable place.

Anything else? Yes. Blues couldn't score in a barrel of fannies.

I went to see Teddy Thompson, son of Richard. What a chip off the old block he is. Look at the picture on his album cover and read of him being part of a brat pack of famous sons and daughters and you might doubt him, but he is good, and, he has a proper band. It was a great night, made better by the presence of Tift Merrit as support. I acquired a Tift album a couple of years ago, it was OK, but nothing special, and I have thought little of her since. As she played the other night, I didn't know who she was, but kept recognising songs, and drove the people around me mad by insisting that I knew the song, but couldn't place it and asking who did the original.

What else? America has a new pres and the world has fallen in love with him. I say HAH! You don't fool me. Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.

And then? The weather. The motherfucking weather. Here in Wales we have a weatherman.........a personality, no less, much loved by grannies and all those with very little brain. Well, next time I see, I am going to kick his fucking head in. He has ruined my week with his unerring ability to get it completely wrong.

And.......and...............oh, almost forgot, there is my situation at work, but then I don't do that anymore, mores the pity. I'm still trying to be a little Buddhist, still trying to recognise that I am the sole author of my fortunes, mis or otherwise. By Christ it takes a bit of adjusting.

What about the links? I have hundreds, but I can't be arsed. It's late and I'm drunk, plus I am typing this on a tint notebook effort and it's really difficult, so please forgive the typos.

Q: What's the difference between a snow man and a snow woman?

A: Snow balls.