Curbishley

I've said it before and I'll say it again; I don't follow football league and I don't give two hoots who wins.

Why is it then that I actually feel a tiny bit sad that Mr Curbishley is leaving Charlton Ath? I don't know if it's a good thing. Maybe the fans hate the fellow.

All I know is that Charlton were promoted up to the Premiership not so long ago and just by hearing bits on the crystal set that Mr Curbishley has taken the club upwards.

From a non-football fan's point of view, Mr C looks like a nice man and as footballers go, he can string sentences together without resorting to saying, "errr, yeh, like, at the end o' the day, dat game woz good."

That's good enough for me Mr C.

World Cup Fever

Fever..... I'll say.

Yes, Sven and every England fan must be breaking out into a cold sweat now that Sir Gawain Rooney has broken his toe nail.

Don't nancy around man. Stiff upper lip and get on the pitch.

Spring is here

Arriving home yesterday evening, I was overcome by a queer feeling - I had the urge to mow the lawn.

Should I lie down and take an Aspirin, phone the Samaritans or walk in to the light?

The first cut of the season. Ahhh, this is one thing to remind me 'this is England'

Just to quote that English writer bloke,
Here's some lines for Plumsteadshire.
The grass is cut, the deed is done,
That urge is quelled that made me feel queer.

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead.
In peace there's nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
Let pry through the portage of the head
Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it
As fearfully as doth a galled rock
O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest English.
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,
Have in these parts from morn till even fought
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument:
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'

Petrol prices

I noticed that petrol station forecourt totems (you know, the thing with the gasoline price displayed and also hides mobile phone transmitters even though customers have to switch phones off whilst on the premises - practice what you preach), display 2 digits, 1 decimal point and another digit ie

94.9

see this example from many many years ago......


In which case, if/when the price exceeds 99.9p, how do they display 3 digits, 1 decimal point and another digit? ie

110.9

Does this mean that there is a ceiling price of 99.9p to gasoline?

Probably not.

So does it mean the price rise can be endless and that the gas station managers have numbers at differing widths and type-sizes? Do they also have numbers in different fonts? That'll jolly things up.


Flicking around on the interweb, I found the image at the bottom which seems to say it all.....

Voting time again

I'm SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO bored of this pathetic useless government.

My SWOT analysis of these plonkers is weighted so much in the wrong direction. I won't go into any of it, but for starters, all I can say is NHS.

I tried to vote these muppets out in the last election and will do the same again.

Make up your own minds and use your vote. If you love New Labour then make your mark, if you hate them, then make your mark. I was really disgusted how many of my peers didn't bother before.

Apparently, West Ham beat some Northerners

Sometimes, you just have to remind yourself....

Il est tout pour le meilleur dans ce meilleur de tous les mondes possibles.

Ronaldinho & Recycling

I missed the Barcelona match this week, but saw clips of Ronaldinho grinning away as usual.

Yes, he probably gets paid stacks of cash and endorses toothpaste and wet look gel, but it's so refreshing to see a grown man smile on the pitch, looking like he's enjoying his job. I can't stand all these blokes getting all too serious and Neanderthal whilst playing footie.

Imagine that? Being PAID to PLAY. Job's a good 'un.

Well, the reason I missed the game was that I'm enjoying a series on BBC2 all about a family going green in Cornwall. In the same vein as my Ronaldinho observation above, this family have broken from the social stereotype too. This is a HAPPY FAMILY.

Not sure the last time I saw one of those on tv.

They're obviously going the whole hog on the green thing, but I tell you what. I think it's really disgusting how many people don't even recycle.

We've had a few people stay at our house and even though we point out the difference between a recycling bin and a crappy smelly bin, they ignore this and everything goes into the smelly bin. It's not as if these are pikeys at all, they just don't seem to be bothered.

So I asked people at work about their recycling. Most don't bother. These are well educated people.

Dis-affected youth maybe? Crap. I hate that phrase anyway. Lazy buggers that's what I say. You want something sonny? Then work to get it. Kids say they're bored and need yoof clubs? Crap. All you need is a ball, a couple of jumpers for goal-posts and an imagination. People born after 1990 seem to be devoid of imagination.

I digress.

I'm a little bit lost why I seem to be in a minority when it comes to recycling.

What's the difficulty?

Come on Boro!!!

I don't support any football team, nor do I watch football on any regular basis. I just like a good game.

Luckily for me, whilst channel flicking I came across some Northern team playing a foreign team called Basil. Cracking game. Goals galore and great to see players running around the whole time in order to justify their handsome wages.

What I couldn't understand was why Basil's wicket-keeper was allowed to wear an orange jersey, which matched the Northerner's red shirts. In the last few minutes of the game, he was in the Northerner's penalty area and I couldn't tell why two red shirts were fouling each other. I mean, I might as well be watching it on a black and white tv.

Dixons

Last Friday, I happened to put Dixons in a bad light. I must have psychic abilities that I've been unaware of.

Well, no loss to the British High Street, except where are those specky boys who 'work' at Dixons going to work now?

Apple XP

One small step for Apple, one giant leap for Microsoft.

It's sometimes tough for minorities and as a stalwart Mac fan, the tough just got tougher.

We've known for years that Microsoft can squash us under their little finger and have chosen not to. Well, that would bring the monopolies commission into play wouldn't it?

Bringing XP onto a Mac is Apple playing the 'if you can't beat 'em then join 'em card.

I know, why don't we bundle in a crap web browser and a word processor that is too complicated for its' own good as well?