A Rare Message of Optimism

So yesterday I travelled to Twickenham with Leicestershire rugby side in which we defeated Cumbria to win the county championships for 2015.

Unfortunately,I sat on the bench for this one. I didn’t get to play, but was involved in previous rounds and semi finals victories. I was naturally gutted by this!! However, it was admits this huge disappointment that I had one of my most positive experiences to date!! At the end of the game, as I walked up those famous steps to collect my medal, I thought to myself that I would never have dreamed to be doing this at nearly 30 years of age – I was humbled by the whole occasion despite never touching the match ball!!  

So… there is hope for the rest of the idiots out there! Anyone can achieve something if we put ourselves out there and snatch the rare opportunities that life begrudgingly slides our way!

At the top of those steps, even for just a few minutes, I could look out onto the empty stadium (as very few people give a fuck about this level of rugby) and forget about all the shite that life generously heaps onto you – I was immune to the hopeless quest to the grave that is our lifetimes – I understood what life was all about!!

And then as I descended the stairs to the pitch side again, I thought, “fucking hell, I’ve got work in the morning”. 😜

My Problems With Regular Blogging

I rarely have anything of interesting consequence to say, and if I do, I seem to forget!! By the time I remember, it has become irrelevant and renders my existence unnecessary!

It might be time to watch a really shit film and blast it on here… anyone for hot tub time machine 2?

Tangents From The Waiting Room

So, I’ve broken my nose and possibly fractured my cheek bone with it – painful! Maybe not as painful as sitting in doctors and A&E waiting rooms for what seems like an eternity to get sorted out though. Now, I appreciate there is a lot of stress on the NHS, and genuine people are there for more serious injuries than mine, but it’s folk like the likely unemployed Diggsy (tattooed on the back of his neck) and his incredibly attractive girlfriend Amy, that cause the real problems and provoke me to take to the blog again!

It’s 13:56 and the card in my hand says I arrived at 12:36. I’m already pissed off as I’m looking at about £15 to park my car for the next four hours, and despite my patience as other unfortunate members of the local community have their needs tended to, Diggsy, and his rat bastard son Connor, are really starting to test me as he throws magazines and plastic cups around whilst screaming to the neglect of Diggsy and Amy. Both seem to think he’s just “a bit restless today” and don’t see any problem in him shouting and climbing over the waiting room chairs! In fact, it didn’t even interrupt their joint cigarette break out front, as they left staff and general public to mind their child!

Yes, I’m already in a bad mood, but it can’t be just me that thinks people like this need cleansing from the gene pool? If you have your nickname surrounded by stars tattooed on your neck then you have to go! If you are wearing airmax trainers, adidas tracksuit bottoms and several large sovereign rings, but you won’t get poor Connor a Fruit Shoot to keep him quiet… that’s right, you have to go!!

It’s 14:14; Connor and Amy have gone to see the doctor about the bang on his knee. Diggsy said he needed a break and has gone for another fag – what a cunt; he’s done nothing to need a break from! I’d like to point out the I know most of the above from Diggsy’s rather loud phone call from his mate about how the morning had gone. I also learned that Diggsy and his mate were “well battered on Saturday”.

Amongst all of this there is also an old boy in front of me who I think could be dead. He was wheeled in and told to wait for his name; hasn’t moved a muscle since! Shouldn’t he be seen first? Where is the common sense in our country? Are we that much of a ‘Claim Culture’ now that we’d rather let people seriously suffer in case someone complains about being there before them! There’s too much litigation in life these days; someone found out you can get paid for writing shitty rules with no knowledge on the given topic and BANG… life as we know it began the decline!

More and more frequently I see the Diggsy or Amy of this world and I wonder where it all went wrong for society! People before me stood shoulder to shoulder and won two world wars; now we’d have so many people on the disability list that it’d be a short fight and we’d only need one plane to drop the seven willing soldiers off – then they’d probably claim for any injury and illness caused!

Well, I’m out now! Turns out, I did break my nose, the guy in the waiting room that I thought was dead, wasn’t, and surprisingly Connor was absolutely fine and just got a nice plaster on his knee! Glad I had to wait behind him in the queue and that the family got a nice day out. I probably helped contribute to the taxi home as well!

Rich

The Panic Piss!!

How annoying is it when you walk by the toilet to do something like wash your hands, blow your nose, etc… and out of nowhere comes the insatiable urge to use it!!

“I can look at the toilet for days without ever needing it”

– no one, ever!!

I have decided to name this un-heavenly act ‘The Panic Piss’. This may not be a huge issue in the lives of most, but I have progressed so far down the line of panic pissing that the mere sight of the stick man on a toilet door, or even just reading the word toilet gets my urethra wetter than Gary Glitters dreams of Justin Bieber!! Maybe it’s time to look into self control and meditation… on second thoughts I’ll moan my head off and do fuck all to remedy the situation for a change!!

I do like to keep my glass pessimistically half full, but on the bright side I won’t be able to top it up with piss from all the panic pissing I seem to do these days – ironic to finish on an upbeat I know!

Jesus!! Have you seen Taken 3 yet?

Let me start by saying there is no possible spoiler alert for this, as if you were foolish enough to sit through Taken 2 (like me), then you perhaps need to see a counsellor about self harming if you subjected yourself to Taken 3 (like me)! Honestly, this is a stinker, and Olivier Megaton needs his life ‘taken’ away from him for crimes committed against cinema, and for the murder of a promising franchise!

Despite some very decent names in the cast, nothing about this film is remotely acceptable! The script must have been written on a brown McDonalds bag, using a pen from the bookies, after the twat had blown the fortune ‘taken’ from unsuspecting punters who though the original Taken wasn’t too bad! The character development is non existent and the plot is as weak as that last glass of squash you try and squeeze out before you throw the bottle away. They may as well print the entire synopsis on the DVD case as there are no prizes for guessing what happens next! Then we come to the worst crime of all; the editing!! If they do not have an excuse of a two week drink and drugs bender before hitting the cutting room floor, then again, lives need to be taken in payment for this horrible catastrophe of a film. I kid you not, there are so many split second cuts in the first car chase that I was questioning myself as to who was driving which car and which direction they were traveling in. It gets no better from there; it will leave you feeling nauseous if you try and keep up with every action scene with the way the footage has been cut. By the end of the film you feel like the melting nazi from Indiana Jones!

Now, I clearly didn’t like either of this prats efforts and I’m perhaps being a bit damning to something he spent a lot of time putting his visions to screen, but I do have a serious thought involving one basic observation between the original Taken, and the two following abortions from old Olivier. Taken’s most iconic scene; “particular set of skills, I’m really tough, i’ll find you” we all know it right?… Then why has this idiot completely ignored the fact that Liam Neeson is at his best when he is striking the fear of god into people through good dialogue and his gravelly delivery! The old boy is sixty two now! If he wants to dive around in shitty action films then he can get on board for expendables four with the rest of the geriatrics. There is not one scene in the two follow up films that gives any character a chance to flex their acting prowess!

That is where my real gripe with this lies! If I can cogitate such a basic notion lying in my pit feeling short changed by this film, then why is this wanker being given multimillion dollar film budgets when he clearly doesn’t know his arsehole from his elbow! I honestly think there is cause for this man to never be allowed near a camera again!

Take my advice; avoid this one like the plague!

Have faith as there are genuinely good films out there to be found and viewed; there’s just a lot of shite to wade through along the way!

Rich x

Pathetic effort, hopefully I’m back for a bit!

Well, what a short lived blogging career I began with! One post! I was like a virgin who dropped into the fat, spotty mess on a bench outside the kebab house after I’d had one glass too many of chardonnay… tainted for life and scared to go anywhere near it again!

Still, If you fall off the horse, you have to get back on; live by the sword, die by the sword; a picture is worth a thousand words; a penny saved….

Now that’s out of the system, I best add a bit of content to this waffle that literally no one will ever read. Here goes. (deep breathe in) Who the hell decided it was ok for people to start growing ridiculous Captain Birdseye beards? When did it become a sane idea to get a sleeve of stars and cloud tattoos on your arm, grow your hair into a ‘top knot’, and have a beard that will soak up the milk in your cornflakes if you don’t keep your head tilted back from the breakfast table? I’m not talking about the die hard gorillas who have had beards since they were fifteen, or the heavy metal warriors who love long hair wherever they can grow it. I’m talking to those trendy pricks who could be found, only two or three years ago, on the strip in magaluf with no tattoos, toms on their feet, and an all saints v-neck t-shirt on… the kind of cunt that had a wooly hat on in the sun and believed that YOLO was some sort of mantra!

Now I know the band wagon is a tough ride to not buy a ticket for. And I’m sure I have a few crumpled ticket stubs in my pockets from when I’ve hitched a ride in the past, but it’s completely another thing to redesign your entire life and image in a few short months, only to change it again in a years time! When do these clowns finally get off and say “actually, I’m not an artist, these glasses aren’t prescription, I like look a twat, and so do the thousands of other sheep trying to look like Brian Blessed with a ponytail”? Still, at least they can take comfort that when the next trend kicks in, they’ll have a few months to try and add some deluded meaning to those prayer beads, stars, and eagle wings they got tattooed in one rush sitting!

It seems a very warped logic they apply from the offset; I actually think that they start out thinking they’re all individuals and not ‘mainstream conformists’, but the irony is that after six months they are exactly what they thought they weren’t… fucking idiots!

One more thing… who employs these cunts, and what happens when the gaffer says “yeah, we were going to give you that promotion, but you look homeless, you potentially have birds nesting on your face, and you’ve just had ‘self made’ tattooed across your knuckles. The Japanese executives won’t think that’s cool whilst discussing merger plans”.

Unfortunately, time confirms that there is no antidote for the continuous conveyor belt of lemmings, and even as they finally take the plunge into a settled sense of belonging, they will be replaced by the next ‘individual’ that replicates the idiosyncrasies of what no one else is apparently doing.

I just can’t wait for the ‘outdoors trend’ where they all think camping is cool and fuck off to the woods for eighteen months!!

First Post & Inspiration

I’m pretty new to this game and it wasn’t until I watched Will Smiths shocking new film ‘After Earth’, and had a bit of a Facebook vent that I decided to take my ‘lash outs’ and experiment on the blog format! They will probably be irregular in frequency and very much initial reactions with out much deep thought going into anything I write, but it will hopefully keep a few folks entertained (mainly myself) and give me a platform to unjustly scrutinise what are mostly creative products from hardworking folk!

I will debut with the status I posted which, inspired me to look into blogging…. If a shit film is released then keep your eyes out for an outburst….

it’s letter time again… for a change it’s not to tim burton, although on a side note i did turn ‘dark shadows’ off after 10 minutes, stabbed it repeatedly with scissors, soaked it in petrol, set it alight, refused to piss on it and sent it back to love film requesting them to compensate me for the colossal waste of my life that was! 

this formal issue is for you mr smith!! you and you’re over privileged, talentless apple that fell very far from the tree indeed! 

not only were the performances disgusting from all actors concerned in ‘after earth’, but the dialogue, unexplained, convenient plot developments and general lack of imagination all left me with the burning sensation of battery acid in my ears and eyes! 

what troubles me the most is the credits go on to read “story by will smith”, so not only have you subjected me to 2 hours of 6 by 2 planks of wood carelessly fumbling around my screen looking for the directions to a decent film, but I then find out that you penned this disastrous attempt to promote what will inevitably be your sons desperate, pile of shite career!

now, it is with unanimous consent that ‘bad boys’ is the greatest thing to ever happen to hollywood cinematography and for this reason alone I am willing to overlook this particular abortion of a screen play! but may i kindly suggest you step away from the type writer, introduce your son and his acting career to tim burton and get back to cappin’ off miami drug lords and, or saving the planet from alien invasion with jeff goldblum in a knackered out little space craft!

much love

rich x