One of my fellow drinkers from local pub had one too many pints of Bulmers this evening. When leaving the pub for a cigarette, my friends and I thought it would be very funny to call the drunkard a taxi, even though he only had one pound and seven pence in his pocket. In our defence, he was incapacitated and needed a ride home!
As time went on, we thought he was going to disappear, and the evil plan would be foiled. However, as he staggered out the pub door into the night, a barman shouted into his face “Taxi for Byron!” The poor, confused soul put his hand into the air and said “I’m Byron”.
He hasn’t been seen since. I don’t know if he made it home, and if he did; how his taxi fare was paid.
Call of Duty 4 dropped through my letterbox today. I have been meaning to buy it for sometime and when I noticed the special edition in the Play.com sale, I couldn’t resist.
My initial impression of COD4 was simply “wow”. I didn’t actually want to play the game at first, instead simply sit back in awe of the amazing design and lush graphics. I was impressed with the predecessor, COD2, a couple of years ago; but I wasn’t expecting such an improvement.
When I was a young child, I was given a Sega Master System for Christmas. Bundled with the console was the war-based shoot-em-up Operation Wolf. My parents didn’t like me playing it, and always insisted I play Alex the Kidd (I had a sheltered upbringing). The few times I did have the pleasure of shooting the soldiers of Bosnia (where the real life war was being held at the time) I remember being amazed at the authenticity of the basic 8-bit console. Looking at COD4 today, it is incredible how technology has improved. It is surely only a matter of time before videogames are on a par, visually, with reality... Grand Theft Auto 5, anyone? :o)
I spent most of yesterday playing Guitar Hero III on the Xbox. By the evening, my fingers were aching from playing the strings (or fret buttons) too much.
Who would have thought that playing with what is effectively a plastic toy guitar in-front of an imaginary crowd could be so much fun? While playing the likes of Paint it Black by The Rolling Stones and The Killers’ When You Were Young, you actually believe, for a short space of time, that you are actually in the band, sending thousands of screaming fans mad, like a rock legend.
I am still a beginner, and am working my way through on the easiest difficulty setting. This setting is played at a slower pace and only uses 3 of the 5 fret keys. The crowd are also a lot more forgiving for the mistakes I seem to make while learning.
Later that night, I got torn away from my Gibson guitar, and taken to the pub for the evening. I only had a few pints, but being the rock legend that I am, I should have drank a bottle of vodka, taken cocaine in the toilet, before hiring and trashing a hotel room.
I will carry on updating my blog with updates about my rock career, although if things keep going as they are, you’ll probably read about my success in Kerrang magazine.
Well, that’s Christmas over with for another year.
I would be lying if I said I joined my family in a wonderful Christmas dinner, comprising of pheasant and luxury champagne; before singing carols around a piano. There was nothing wrong with this years celebrations - just nothing magical, either.
Present highlights: Sony Ericsson K800i – my Nokia phone was as good as dead, so I begged Santa and his elves for this little baby. Guitar Hero III– a cool little game for the Xbox 360, complete with a “lifelike” guitar. I haven’t had much chance to play it yet; but expect me to be appearing on Top of the Pops or (its modern day equivalent) sometime in 2008. The Stig – a remote control car, featuring The Stig from BBC2’s Top Gear. Like with GHIII, I haven’t had much time to play with it; but expect a blog on how I broke it soon.
Christmas dinner: Overrated as always. I hate having a large meal at lunchtime. The turkey was dry - I don’t think the chef reads my blog (luckily). I left most of my dinner, so when the evening came, I was very hungry – I worked my way through Pringles and chocolate.
Christmas telly: Supposedly another Christmas tradition amongst us Brits. I didn’t watch anything. My sister had EastEnders on - what a horrible programme, especially for Christmas. In the space of ten minutes, I watched domestic abuse, a man vomiting in the street, a mother trying to commit suicide in front of her young daughter, before falling down the stairs to her death. Not exactly a nice, festive TV show is it – more like “TV to cut your wrists to”.
Football: Another Crimbo tradition. I went to watch Bath City play Dorchester today. A rubbish game that finished 1-1. City need to buck their ideas up, or I might have to open a can of whoop ass on them. Leeds also drew 1-1. A sporting gesture, I must say. If Leeds wanted, they could win every game 5-0; but that would mean the season would be over in January – how kind they are!
Did anyone where have a bad time this Christmas? Did you receive a terrible knitted jumper from a senile relative? Maybe a young/elderly relative pissed/shat/vomited on you – maybe you did that on yourself? Did Santa not bring you what you wanted?
Whatever happened to you this Crimbo; I am willing to bet that it wasn’t as bad as getting mauled to death by a tiger.
SAN FRANCISCO (AP) - A tiger that mauled a zookeeper last year escaped from its pen at the San Francisco Zoo on Tuesday, killing one man and injuring two others before police shot it dead, authorities said.
The three men were in their 20s; they were together and were not zoo employees, San Francisco Police spokesman Steve Mannina said. They were attacked just after the 5 p.m. closing time, on the east end of the 125-acre grounds.
They suffered ``pretty aggressive bite marks,'' Mannina said.
It was unclear how the tiger escaped or how long it was on the loose. The approximately 300-pound female Siberian tiger, named Tatiana, attacked a zookeeper last December during a public feeding, according to the zoo's director of animal care and conservation.
Robert Jenkins, the zoo's director of animal care and conservation, could not explain how the animal escaped. The tiger's enclosure is surrounded by a 15-foot-wide moat, and 20-foot-high walls.
``There was no way out through the door,'' said Jenkins. ``The animal appears to have climbed or otherwise leapt out of the enclosure.''
The zoo, which is open 365 days a year, was evacuated immediately after the attack was reported.
The two injured men were in critical but stable condition at San Francisco General Hospital, Fire Department spokesman Lt. Ken Smith said. A call to the supervising nurse at San Francisco General was not immediately returned.
``This is a tragic event for San Francisco,'' Smith said. ``We pride ourselves in our zoo, and we pride ourselves in tourists coming and looking at our city.''
Authorities did not believe there were any other people attacked, but because it was dark they could not be certain. Investigators remained on the scene using ladders and flashlights. Smith said a thorough sweep of the grounds would be conducted in the morning.
Investigators working to understand what happened have sketched a chilling picture.
The first attack happened right outside the Siberian's enclosure - the victim died on the scene. A group of four responding officers came across his body when they made their way into the dark zoo grounds, said Mannina.
Then they saw the second victim. He was about 300 yards away, in front of the Terrace Cafe.
The man was sitting on the ground, blood running from gashes in his head. Tatiana sat next to him. Suddenly, the cat attacked the man again, Mannina said.
The officers started approaching the animal, bearing their handguns. Tatiana started moving in their direction. Several of the officers then fired, killing the animal.
Only then did they see the third victim, who had also been mauled.
Although no new visitors were let in after 5 p.m., the grounds were not scheduled to close until an hour later, and there were between 20 and 25 people still on site when the attacks happened, zoo officials said.
There are five tigers at the zoo - three Sumatrans, and two Siberians. Officials initially worried that four tigers had escaped, but they soon learned that only one had left its pen, according to Mannina.
Last December, the animal reached through the cage's iron bars and badly lacerated a zookeeper's arm. The zoo's Lion House was temporarily closed during an investigation.
California's Division of Occupation Safety and Health blamed the zoo for the assault and imposed a $18,000 penalty, the San Francisco Chronicle reported.
San Francisco mayor Gavin Newsom said in a statement that he was deeply saddened by the latest incident and said a thorough investigation is under way.
Following last year's attack, the zoo added customized steel mesh over the bars, built in a feeding shoot and increased the distance between the public and the cats.
Tatiana arrived at the San Francisco Zoo from the Denver Zoo a few years ago, with zoo officials hoping she would mate with a male tiger.
I have now finished for Christmas and New Year. I do not return to work until the second week of 2008.
Today was pointless. There was nothing to do. We kicked a mini-football around the office (broke a few things), before walking down to a local pub to have a Christmas pint.
I have wrapped all my presents, and am now counting down the hours to 6pm when I’ll be going down the pub again. In the meantime, I may go into town and laugh at all the last minute crimbo shoppers; fighting to buy their gifts in time. Then I’ll go to the airport and laugh at all those stranded travellers, stupid enough to book a holiday at Christmas time.
If I was to ever lose my job in IT, and the offer to play for Arsenal becomes unavailable; there is another career path I can take... plumbing.
Yes it is late at night, yes I have work in the morning, and YES I should be in bed; but I noticed my kitchen sink was badly blocked. With the help of a lot of tissues, a screwdriver and a lid from a Biro pen; the blockage has now been cleared. I only made a tiny mistake, which caused the under-sink cupboard to get “a little bit” wet/flooded, but I’m rather proud of myself.
A lesson for footballers all over the world - do not upset your fans by picking up stupid bookings or worse; getting sent off for violence and dissent. Even the best-loved football stars can go from hero to zero in a matter of seconds. Bath City’s Lewis Hogg found this out yesterday.
Yesterday, Hogg was summoned to the Twerton Park tunnel for an early bath, by a red-card brandishing referee, to a chorus of boos and abuse from the Bath City faithful. The fans have been upset with the midfielders poor disciplinary record all season, but Hogg’s stupid sending off yesterday was the straw that broke the camel (or in this case, pig’s) back.
Lewis must now hide away, in fear of a Frankenstein-style mob of Bath City fans, chasing him with torches and pitchforks, baying for blood.
I had the rather unpleasant experience of visiting Sainsbury’s this evening. A trip to the supermarket is nasty at the best of times, and made worse by the fact Christmas is just days away. As the shops are closed for two days over the holiday period, and everyone is confined to their homes; people stock up on excessive quantities of food and drink; as if we were on the brink of a nuclear war, and had to live in bomb shelters for 12 months.
THE CHRISTMAS SHOPPING RUSH CAN ONLY BE LIKENED TO THE THREAT OF WAR
The shelves were depleted, while the aisles were grid-locked with trolleys and annoying customers chatting and browsing aimlessly - getting in my way! I find a sharp bash to the back of the foot with the trolley wheel gets the herd moving (what lovely Christmas spirit).
THE TROLLEY WHEEL. ONLY A GUN MOVES SHOPPERS FASTER.
I managed to get all my shopping done, surprisingly with as little stress as possible (considering the crowded conditions). I do, however, have a few complaints. I will be airing these to my friend, Simon, who works in Sainsbury’s and is a top ambassador to the supermarket.
1) Why was I not allowed to use my trolley at the self-service checkout?
2) I found a number of Coca Cola bottles had some disgusting oil/pig-fat/wax residue on them. Is this normal? The strange fluid went all over my hands. I had to wipe myself on a female store assistant’s uniform - she was fucking livid.
3) When buying bananas, I always check them for spiders. What I didn’t look out for, was quality of fruit. Only when arriving at the checkout did I find them to be as soft as baby shite and inedible. I left them on the floor by the checkout. Did anybody slip on them in a comical manner after I left?
4) I see Sainsbury’s have donation boxes for charities. Why is it that there is more dog food in the animal shelter trolley, than there is “people food” in the collection for tramps? Do shoppers care more about animals than hobos, or is the Pedigree Chum fed to the crusties? As tramps like drugs, I donated a box of Lempsip.
TRAMPS LOVE LEMSIP
5) Why are Pringles so addictive? Should they carry a warning, or be upgraded to a Class B drug?
Last week, I ordered a pair of tickets to see Jimmy Carr in The Pavillion, next February. They dropped through the letterbox this morning. If it’s anything like this years show, it’ll be excellent. Only 66 days to go...
This morning I had to leave the office to care of some other business. When I returned, I noticed a few of my colleagues had sabotaged my desk.
For those who can’t make the picture out; they stuck the picture of “Butters me” onto the desktop fan, a speech-bubble, sellotaped the telephone, put my Leeds United beanie on top, tied my Bath City scarf around the base, and placed my gloves and random items on the table.
Apparently they missed me so much, they wanted to re-build me. I will get them back when they least suspect it...
A little festive tradition of mine since 1999 has been to listen to a very special CD full of Christmas music. You won’t find any Fairytales of New York, or songs about Little Drummer Boys, on my compilation, though.
My favourite Christmas CD is somewhat different - the South Park compilation Mr. Hankey’s Christmas Classics.
Favourite tracks of mine include Merry F**king Christmas, where South Park Elementary’s Mr. Garrison teaches the kids a lesson on religions from across the world.
Another great track is the sick and twisted Dead, Dead, Dead where we are all reminded of our own mortality, in a disturbing festive style.
Fans of the TV series will no doubt be familiar with the classic Lonely Jew at Christmas, as well as the hilarious Christmas Time in Hell.
Eric Cartman is on form with two solo efforts – Oh Holy Night and Swiss Colony Beef Log.
As the saying goes, this CD is available in all good music stockists (and some bad ones). But if you want to avoid the crowds, you could always buy if off the net. If you can’t wait and want it now, there are other ways [hint].
It has been FREEZING this weekend. Despite being wrapped up like an Eskimo, I nearly died of hyperthermia while watching Bath City lose 3-0 away in Newport yesterday; and no amounts of hot coffee and cheesy chips were able to warm the cold blood pumping through my veins.
Bath wasn’t much warmer than Wales, so when I got home, I met Simon and Watkins for visit to Nandos. We hadn’t been in ages, so it was a welcome return. It doesn’t matter if it’s a hot summers day or a Arctic winters night; PeriPeri chicken is still delicious.
While we ate, we were entertained by a group of people who had become trapped in a nearby lift. A crowd had gathered to watch firemen abseiling up and down the shaft to rescue the people presumed trapped in the bowels of the complex. Occasionally we would hear screams from beneath. I don’t think those people will use a lift again in a hurry...
I’m off to Wales this afternoon to watch Bath City play Newport yet again. It is City’s 4th visit to Spytty Park since October. Somehow the cup draws have seen us having to travel to their ground in every possible competition – the league, FA Cup, Setanta Shield, and today, The FA Trophy. I am sure if Newport relocated 50 miles east, we would get them in the Somerset Cup too.
Newport hasn’t been the nicest place to go. A small minority of the locals have taken a dislike to City’s success at their ground, and tried to go all “Italian Ultras” on us. They’re big softies really, and with the Christmas spirit in the Welsh air, hopefully it’ll be an enjoyable match... which City will win :o)
I was disappointed with Bath City not even reaching the 1st Round of FA Cup this year, so a run in the FA Trophy would be nice. In recent years, Bath City have been a bit like a bad teabag – they haven’t stayed in the cup very long.
Simon texted me this evening after noticing the front-page of The Independent newspaper. It looks like Al Gore is losing the plot again and trying to introduce mass panic across the world.
The newspaper reports that there is only one person to blame – Man Bear Pig; a terrible beast which is half man, half pig, half bear (or is it a pig-bear-man?).
A quote from the news story: “We’re doomed; doomed I tell you – I’m super cereal! Manbearpig must be stopped, or we will all die by Christmas. Excelthior!!!”
So, The FA have found the man to lead the England numpties to World Cup glory. Fabio Capello is his name. Fabio, or Fab as he likes to be known, is most famous for collaborating with fellow music DJ, Grooverider, for weddings, childrens parties and funerals.
I hope he can teach Gerrard & co. to spin the ball as well as he spins the decks. I have already copyrighted two possible headlines, which can be used, depending on how poor/well England are performing. If The Sun, Mirror or Daily Star want to buy them, please contact me...
It appears those promoting anti-piracy have given up on the previous campaign of “If you download a pirate film, you are funding terrorism” and instead are accusing those pirates of being tight-fisted so-and-so’s who steals sweets from children (do the quiz on the website).
I can honestly say I have never downloaded a pirate DVD or CD (no, honestly!). I do, however, know people who have. Now I can be safe in the knowledge that those pirates I associate with, are not members of Al Qaeda out to blow me up, but simply out to nick my Fruit Pastilles.
The modern day film pirate is less likely to be doing this...
After the Ricky Hatton shambles, McClaren’s men losing to Croatia, and the rugby team going out of some competition; I have come to the conclusion that England are shit at all sports, and always will be.
In fact, if an Englishman had to face a monkey in a game of “paper/scissors/stone”, the monkey would win – as long as it wasn’t born in the UK.
At least us English are good at one thing – wars. Had our forefathers not been so brave and courageous, we would be speaking German right now; and Sparkster.net would be Sparkster.de.
Oh well. The fat Manc ended up on his arse. What a shame. Not really surprised; us English never win anything. Unlucky Hatton - better luck next time, etc, etc...
Please note the timestamp on my blog. I have surfaced at this crazy time to watch the Ricky Hatton – Floyd Mayweather fight. Two boxers, who in my hazy state, I originally believed to be Ricky and Floyd, are currently scrapping. It looks boring, and had this been the main event, I would have gone back to bed.
I feel weird, and as if I should be asleep rather than writing on my blog. I am finding it hard to concentrate – it is like I am typing while badly drunk. This is obviously down to surfacing in the middle of the night, something I don’t think I have ever done before. The only reason I am blogging, is because, come the daytime, if I don’t see the timestamp, I probably won’t believe it myself that I got up at 4am!
They say Ricky Hatton has got a difficult task tonight; I think getting up at 4am is bad enough in itself!
If you notice any spelling/grammar errors in this blog, please put it down to the fact I am more than half asleep.
Today was the final lesson of my management course. Apart from a small piece of work I need to finish, the project is now fully complete. I can now forget about it all, and await my certificate.
The final lesson on the course was spent performing presentations on the coursework we had written. My project focuses around network security and account management. I was told the whole presentation had to be 5-10 minutes in duration. I managed 6 minutes (3 of which was post-Powerpoint questions). I passed the unit, and the assessor didn’t shout out “Dance for me, Monkeyboy!” so I expect I did something right, and fulfilled enough time and content.
Apparently now, I am qualified to manage people, head meetings and make important decisions. I am, however, yet to receive any of the typical management perks – a lovely secretary, 8-week holidays, a massive salary, and a licence to screw up :o)
On one of his more productive days, my colleague, Karl, spent an afternoon playing around in Microsoft Paint (we can’t afford a licence for Adobe Photoshop). Using a photo of me and a picture of Butters from South Park, he came up with this wonderful piece of graphical design.
“What is the point in this?” I hear you cry. Well according to my colleagues at work; I am the living, real-life Butters, and have inadvertently acquired it as a nickname amongst Karl and Sam. The likeness they see is surely down to the fact Butters and I both have blonde hair; I can't see any personality similarities - Butters is dumb and naive, and I'm...
I wouldn’t normally put such a silly thing on my blog, but Karl spent so much time making this, I thought I would give his work some justice.
I spent the day winding up my colleague Sam at work. Friday night, the whole network team went out to La Flamenca; and while most of us went home after our meal, a few went to a pub where the drinks flowed.
By all accounts, Samuel had one too many shots of Schnapps. I received the news of his drunken escapades, and spent most of today making the poor lad paranoid about what he may, or may not have said while intoxicated.
Good thing Bath City were playing away on Saturday, and I decided to leave at 11pm; otherwise I too may have been regretting a late, drunken Friday night.
A photo (alleged) to have been taken of Sam on Friday
I have just finished wrestling with a Christmas tree I bought from Argos. You really do get what you pay for, and evidentially £7.49 is not enough. I actually had to snap the flimsy plastic tree stands into place and Blu-tack them down. After much swearing and knife stabbing (yes, really), the tree is assembled and is making my living room look very festive (well, kinda). It has however left me tired, stressed and annoyed... please pass the sherry.
On Saturday I travelled the breadth of the country to East Sussex to watch Bath City play Lewes. A dire game played in even worse weather conditions. We lost 1-0, I got soaked, ate some disgusting chips and nearly froze to death on the coach journey home. All in all, a fantastic Saturday of non-league football!
One of the highlights of the day was when I spotting “Reduce to clear” stand in a service station, somewhere between Sussex and Somerset. It was full of England car-flags, novelty hands a mini-footballs; all selling for 25p – by far the cheapest thing EVER to be sold at a service station. Also on sale was Paul Robinson’s goalkeeping gloves, Steve McClaren’s umbrella from the Croatia game, and a signed Frank Lampard shirt – nobody bought them.
