Well, well, well. After over 15 years since their split The Stone Roses have finally decided to get back together.
In my youth I was a MASSIVE indie kid, Primal Scream, the Charlatans, Happy Mondays, Stone Roses, Ride etc, I loved them all. Then Oasis came and my love for that genre died.
The Stone Roses only released 2 albums. One a groundbreaking guitar/dance record that was influential and still sounds fresh today after over 20 years. The difficult 2nd album, released some 5 years later due to legal issues was slated in the music media, and even Ian Brown and Mani have gone on record as saying it was "a piss poor Led Zeppelin covers band".
So why have they got back together? Do they have something worth saying? Are they that upset with the current blandness of British music? or have they been offered shed loads of money to do some big gigs in a Manchester field?
The ramblings of a pissed off man.
Wednesday, 19 October 2011
Monday, 3 October 2011
Unemployment & Job Agencies.
I have predominantly worked in the construction industry, which in reality means I’ve spent a lot of time getting laid off (3 times in 3 year).
Being unemployed is shit, degrading and lowers yourself worth to the same as that of an annoying house fly.
I am currently into the second week of not working and have so far resisted the temptation of signing on. I’m lucky enough to have a missus who works and providing the house is clean, the tea’s cooked and I’m looking for work she’s happy. The other reason I won’t go and sign on is because I don’t think it’s worth £120 a fortnight to have to suffer the humiliation and indignity of having to justify my existence to some unsympathetic, judgmental bell end, who if they weren’t working in a job centre would be a member of the Hitler Youth, or the Catholic church.
So where do you look for jobs? Internet? Job papers? Well that’s a great start, but be warned. Very rarely do employers advertise job vacancies, for some reason they find it far too tedious for people of their standing, so they go through agencies.
Recruitment agencies one of the biggest parasites to walk this earth. They promise you the world and deliver f**k all.
“Mr Tall Man we have the perfect vacancy for you, it matches your previous skills perfectly”,
“brilliant, is it estimating in the construction industry?”
“Errrrr no its picking peanuts out of shit”.
They send you for interviews that you have no possible chance of getting just to fill the quota they agreed with the employers. And once you get a job, they will take away a percentage of your wage. A friend once told me that his firm paid an agency £12 per hour for an employee, and the employee was paid £5.50 of it. Is that fair?
Recruitment agencies should be forced to close down and the people responsible for them should be tried in a court of law for theft.
When you’re working 40 hours a week unemployment sounds fantastic, sitting around watching telly drinking tea all day. In reality its shit, depressing and boring. I have over 90 channels of shit during the day. I have the choice of home improvement shows, documentaries about the Nazis or re-runs of Only Fools & Horses that I’ve seen a dozen times this week.
Obviously when your unemployed you need to look for work, but you can’t spend all your waking hours looking. Firstly there aren’t that many jobs to look at and secondly after 2 days of this you’ll be depressed and suicidal, because out of the 40 jobs you applied for, none have them have got back to you (been there and done it).
You need to keep your mind and body active or you’ll waste away, and if you do get a job you’ll be that used to sitting in your room masturbating your day away it’ll take you time to adjust to doing something and being around people. By the time your settled your colleagues think your weird, odd and spend a long time in the toilet 3 times a day (been there done it).
Sunday, 2 October 2011
Mid 30's blues.
As I get older I can feel myself turning into one of the gobshites that I detested when i was growing up. I'm now one of those nobs who has an opinion, whether I know something or not, I have an opinion and I want it to be heard. That's why I'm here blogging, with the vague notion that anyone gives a toss.
In my head I still imagine myself to be a young wiper snapper, able to neck down copious amounts of alcohol and drugs. In reality 2 pints of the black stuff and I'm already telling anyone who'll listen "my super theories on everything and anything". A night out takes me 2 to 3 days to recover. And drugs, bloody hell, one toke on a spliff and I'm either talking gibberish bollocks, or more than likely cowered in a corner paranoid about that glance you just gave me. Do people still use the word toke, is it "in", or did it go the same way as "mega"? What is "in", am I in, do I need inviting "in". From watching the telly "in" seems to be having no talent & wearing shit clothes.
Buying clothes is another chore that's filled with dread and annoyance. If I go to one of the so called trendy shops I have some teenage waif like minimum wage creature looking at me with disgust in their eyes, the pants I'm wearing are older than you, you little f**ker. None of the clothes fit because there all made with wasp waisted little tossers in mind. I choose my clothes with 2 things in mind, comfort and price. I wear Crocs for Christ sake, so style went out of the window a long time ago. Aren't Crocs comfy? You look like a complete prick when wearing them, but your feet are thankful.
There seems to be a pattern emerging that as the hair on my head go's, the hair on my back grows ten fold. And what's with my balls, when did they get so low? And where did the noise I make when sitting down come from? I used to be able to sit down without making a sound, in fact I prided myself on being one of the worlds quietest sitter down, but now when I sit AAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH and I've no idea why. The more I think about it, anything comfortable makes strange noises sleek out of my mouth, slippers, a fluffy dressing gown, the settee all come with a guaranteed ARGH.
In my head I still imagine myself to be a young wiper snapper, able to neck down copious amounts of alcohol and drugs. In reality 2 pints of the black stuff and I'm already telling anyone who'll listen "my super theories on everything and anything". A night out takes me 2 to 3 days to recover. And drugs, bloody hell, one toke on a spliff and I'm either talking gibberish bollocks, or more than likely cowered in a corner paranoid about that glance you just gave me. Do people still use the word toke, is it "in", or did it go the same way as "mega"? What is "in", am I in, do I need inviting "in". From watching the telly "in" seems to be having no talent & wearing shit clothes.
Buying clothes is another chore that's filled with dread and annoyance. If I go to one of the so called trendy shops I have some teenage waif like minimum wage creature looking at me with disgust in their eyes, the pants I'm wearing are older than you, you little f**ker. None of the clothes fit because there all made with wasp waisted little tossers in mind. I choose my clothes with 2 things in mind, comfort and price. I wear Crocs for Christ sake, so style went out of the window a long time ago. Aren't Crocs comfy? You look like a complete prick when wearing them, but your feet are thankful.
There seems to be a pattern emerging that as the hair on my head go's, the hair on my back grows ten fold. And what's with my balls, when did they get so low? And where did the noise I make when sitting down come from? I used to be able to sit down without making a sound, in fact I prided myself on being one of the worlds quietest sitter down, but now when I sit AAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH and I've no idea why. The more I think about it, anything comfortable makes strange noises sleek out of my mouth, slippers, a fluffy dressing gown, the settee all come with a guaranteed ARGH.
Saturday, 1 October 2011
Football (or soccer if your a fuckwit).
I was brought up in a football loving household. When I first clapped eyes on the beautiful game I fell it love with it.
Since the birth of the premier league in the early 90's my love for the game has diminished with every season that passes.
No longer are players turning out each game for their love of the sport. Big money has led to bigger egos. In the not so distant past we had players who had character and a swagger about them, today's players are more like 100 metre sprinters who are taught footballing technique than the other way around.
Not so long since I read a story about a player in the 2nd tier of English football being mugged at knife point. Although it is sad when someone is mugged, when I heard what was stolen my blood boiled. The muggers got away with the players £20k Rolex, £5k's worth of jewellery, £200 in cash, they made their get away in the players £80k car. This is an average player, how the fuck can anyone justify paying someone who is average £20k a week? It makes my piss boil with anger.
The tipping point for me was when Wayne Rooney had a go at the England fans when coming off the pitch after a piss poor showing at the 2010 world cup. The average wage of the 23 man squad was £80k a week, Rooney is on £200k a week. If your getting paid 800 grand a month people who have been saving their money for years to watch you have not only the right to boo you if your shit, they have the right to ask for a refund. If I went to watch a band and they were moping around the stage looking disinterested I'd want my money back.
Things don't get any better the further down the leagues you go either. Last season i took my then 8 year old nephew to watch a game in the 4th tier of English football. With the tickets, program, hot dog and drinks I had spent the best part of £50. £50 to watch 2 shit teams kick a bag of wind about in a shit stadium.
Football was the sport of the working classes, but now it's the sport of millionaires.
But despite all that I still watch it ever week, need to know all the transfers news and buy the latest installment of the Football Manager series of PC games (of which I have been addicted to since Championship Manager 93).
Football, I hate you, but I bloody love you more.
Since the birth of the premier league in the early 90's my love for the game has diminished with every season that passes.
No longer are players turning out each game for their love of the sport. Big money has led to bigger egos. In the not so distant past we had players who had character and a swagger about them, today's players are more like 100 metre sprinters who are taught footballing technique than the other way around.
Not so long since I read a story about a player in the 2nd tier of English football being mugged at knife point. Although it is sad when someone is mugged, when I heard what was stolen my blood boiled. The muggers got away with the players £20k Rolex, £5k's worth of jewellery, £200 in cash, they made their get away in the players £80k car. This is an average player, how the fuck can anyone justify paying someone who is average £20k a week? It makes my piss boil with anger.
The tipping point for me was when Wayne Rooney had a go at the England fans when coming off the pitch after a piss poor showing at the 2010 world cup. The average wage of the 23 man squad was £80k a week, Rooney is on £200k a week. If your getting paid 800 grand a month people who have been saving their money for years to watch you have not only the right to boo you if your shit, they have the right to ask for a refund. If I went to watch a band and they were moping around the stage looking disinterested I'd want my money back.
Things don't get any better the further down the leagues you go either. Last season i took my then 8 year old nephew to watch a game in the 4th tier of English football. With the tickets, program, hot dog and drinks I had spent the best part of £50. £50 to watch 2 shit teams kick a bag of wind about in a shit stadium.
Football was the sport of the working classes, but now it's the sport of millionaires.
But despite all that I still watch it ever week, need to know all the transfers news and buy the latest installment of the Football Manager series of PC games (of which I have been addicted to since Championship Manager 93).
Football, I hate you, but I bloody love you more.
Rotherham
Firstly I must admit to being born and bred in Rotherham (or Rovrum as its known locally).
Rotherham town centre is the shit hole of not just Yorkshire, not just England, but the entire universe. The streets are littered with drunks, junkies, young chavs thinking their hard and the general shit of humanity. It says a lot about Rotherham when the most ambitious people to lurk around in the town centre are the 2 Big Issue sellers hanging around the bus depot.
Most of the shops are boarded up and the ones that are left are either second hand charity shops or about to go bust.
The one shop to prosper is Primark, its a haven for orange skinned teenage mums, older women with saggy skin and a look of a life lived the hard way and fat men who wear vests all year round.
Rovrum town centre on a weekend night is like feeding time at the zoo. The last time I was there was in June (2011), me and a mate decided to have a couple of pints after catching the last train home from a night out in Sheffield. In the 2 hours I was there I saw 3 fights, 1 woman getting fingered by her boyfriend (or at least I think it was her boyfriend), and was chatted up by a rather large lady who promised to let me "do her up the wrong un" if I went home with her, classy. Unfortunately for her I decided to get a rubber cheesed pizza and went home.
Rotherham council have spent, and are spending a lot of money on trying to sort out the town centre, but I can't help thinking that it is a bit like polishing a turd. The new Imperial Building looks nice, and has some decent looking shops opening, but how long will they last? The council has wasted an awful lot of money on building stylish looking apartments, or flats as they should be known. Who in their right mind would want to live in Rovrum town centre?
Rovrum town centre is a nice place architecturally, but only if you look up above street level. The problem is the scrubbers have taken over and until that problem is dealt with, whatever the council do will just fall to rack and ruin.
Rotherham town centre is the shit hole of not just Yorkshire, not just England, but the entire universe. The streets are littered with drunks, junkies, young chavs thinking their hard and the general shit of humanity. It says a lot about Rotherham when the most ambitious people to lurk around in the town centre are the 2 Big Issue sellers hanging around the bus depot.
Most of the shops are boarded up and the ones that are left are either second hand charity shops or about to go bust.
The one shop to prosper is Primark, its a haven for orange skinned teenage mums, older women with saggy skin and a look of a life lived the hard way and fat men who wear vests all year round.
Rovrum town centre on a weekend night is like feeding time at the zoo. The last time I was there was in June (2011), me and a mate decided to have a couple of pints after catching the last train home from a night out in Sheffield. In the 2 hours I was there I saw 3 fights, 1 woman getting fingered by her boyfriend (or at least I think it was her boyfriend), and was chatted up by a rather large lady who promised to let me "do her up the wrong un" if I went home with her, classy. Unfortunately for her I decided to get a rubber cheesed pizza and went home.
Rotherham council have spent, and are spending a lot of money on trying to sort out the town centre, but I can't help thinking that it is a bit like polishing a turd. The new Imperial Building looks nice, and has some decent looking shops opening, but how long will they last? The council has wasted an awful lot of money on building stylish looking apartments, or flats as they should be known. Who in their right mind would want to live in Rovrum town centre?
Rovrum town centre is a nice place architecturally, but only if you look up above street level. The problem is the scrubbers have taken over and until that problem is dealt with, whatever the council do will just fall to rack and ruin.
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