Bootneck Therapy

I'm not being funny, but why are the press going on about Michelle Obama like she's some sort of uber chic goddess?

She's beautiful, according to Lorraine Kelly and various other members of the daytime TV crowd. Is she? Is she beautiful? I must be looking at the wrong woman, because I thnk she's less than average and to rub salt in, she's got an undershot jaw. Why do the press feel obliged to give outrageous compliments to her? Why do they feel the need to have entire fashion articles dedicated to what she's wearing today? We never seem that bothered about her French counterpart, who IS beautiful and who IS the height of fashion. I wonder why that is?

Allegedly she's the height of fashion!! well I'm not being funny, but the Queen looked trendier than Mrs Obama when they met today.

To be fair old Barrack got the pick of the bunch at school though didn't he?

My favourite moment of today though, was when a Beeb One reporter asked a hoody clad youth why meeting the new first lady was such a special moment? she replied "Coz she's the first black one in it"

I just don't get it

Nothing infuriates me more than people playing the system and claiming handouts they aren't entitled to.

Get a load of the new Visa adverts;

There's no fucking way this fella needs crutches !!

And to rub it in he's doing chuffing adverts on national tele for even more cash !!

I can't believe works and pensions haven't spotted this one and sent in their fraud dept to sort him out.

I'll stand corrected, but only after seeing a letter from his Doctor.

Whilst at the doctors this morning I spotted the following sign in the waiting room;

Does this look wrong to anyone else?

Now, don't get me wrong I'm totally against political correctness, but if we're going to have it, then surely sign writers / designers should be at the forefront of getting it right. I mean their work is going to be in public view all the time.

Now to me the sign is encouraging the able bodied sprinter on the right to leave the disabled fella to burn. I'm guessng that seconds earlier the able bodied fella was on the left and has made good ground on the disabled fella, sprinting past him to safety. He might have even had to have pushed him to one side, cause it's tight at the exit of the Doctor's surgery.

Not only that, what the hell is the able bodied fella doing at the Doctors in the first place? He's obviously not that ill is he?

Now wouldn't my alternative be better?

This way everyone's a winner, and the able bodied fella will probably get some kind of hero award, presented by one of the cast of Emmerdale at a posh bash somewhere.

All is right in the World once more.............

As I left Tesco's today, weekly big shop on board, I saw a middle aged gent leaving the store with the following items in his trolley;

3 x 24 Packs of Carling
1 x Claw Hammer.

That was it! Nothing else at all.

My imagination isn't great and I presumed he planned to drink himself into oblivion, before stoving his wife's head in.

Anyone else got any slightly more imaginative ideas, as to what his post shop plans were? What kind of evening did he have planned?

I'm sure you can do better than me.

I just wanted to tell you all about my new friend Abrama. He's from Togo in Africa and we met on the internet. How cool is that?

I've heard of people making friends online before, but I thought it was just people being conned or befriending 40 year old peadophiles posing as School girls.

Abrama is so cool, he comes from Togo, which is a narrow Country in West Africa bourdering Ghana(It says so on Wikepedia)and he is stinking rich. He must be really important, because in a Country where you can buy a family of slaves for a warm turd, Abrama has managed to save up 28.6 million US Dollars. What a guy and he's only 28. I'm guessing he's some kind of King or someone of equal importance, like Duncan Bannatyne.

I bet you're all wandering how we met, well he messaged me out of the blue on Blog.Co.Uk and offered me loads of cash if I helped him with an investment opportunity.

Naturally I agreed and as I type, I am waiting for all that cash too land in the account that I sent him details of.

Anyway that's all, just was so excited I wanted to tell everyone.

Don't be bombarding me with requests for cash to help out sick relatives etc, charity starts at home and my ears won't pin themselves.

Chow

"Do you want a hand with your packing love?"
"No thanks, I'll manage"

Why do checkout women see that line as a challenge? I can almost hear them thinking "NO YOU FUCKING WON'T"

I'm trying to do them a favour, I figure their job is shitty enough, without having to pack peoples bags for them as well. I'd love a hand with my packing, I fucking hate packing the shopping. I'd pay someone to pack my bags. It just feels the right thing to say, like checkout etiquette.

I'm tempted next time, to say "Yeah please pack my bags for me" and then just stand and watch. Better that than be stood like a complete arse, with a mounting pile of tins and boxes which don't seem to want to go in the bags at all.

I think they just enjoy watching poor blokes sweating, trying to keep up as they frantically scan and sling items at us.

That's it, all I have to say on that one.

In fact, on a similar note, has anyone else noticed Tesco carrier bags have got really thin over the past two years? They are now just thick enough to make it to the car in one piece. However, making from the car to the front door in one piece seems to be a bridge too far for em.

Laters

I came home from a climbing session on Saturday evening and found my other half engrossed in the X Factor.
In a kind of silent protest stylie, I proceeded to sit in my gaming chair in the corner of the room and emerse myself in my Playstation.

I did glance up at the T.V periodically to see what was going on and it became apparent that one of the contestants, the one who looks like a waiflike Harry Potter character, was blubbing her eyes out at the height of some emotional announcement. The crowd were on their feet applauding and the geordie judge Cheryl, "Chessa" to her mates, was blubbing too. To top it off, the dirtier looking Minogue sister was fighting back the tears un all.
I could only assume, from the levels of emotion being shown and the massive reception she was getting, that this weeks task was to cure a desiese and that Diane had indeed hit the jackpot and kicked Cancer into touch. Cheryl went on to say "I'M SO PRUDE OF YOUSE. AFTER THAT PERFORMANCE YOU DESERVE TO WIN IT AND YOU'VE MADE THIS COMPETITION COME ALIVE FOR US"

Not to be outdone, the next time I looked up,a buxome Spanish lass called Ruth, (is Ruth a Spanish name?) was also in floods of tears and again the panel including the lecherous Simon Cowell were all blubbing about whatever amazing feat she had done this week, presumably curing HIV.

I lost interest after that, but I've been checking the press and there haven't been any big announcements.

I'm tipping that the boy band J.I.S or whatever they are called, found a cure for the Flu and bagged the grey vote, blowing the competition out of the water. Pensioners fucking love their X Factor you know.

I'll let you know what happens with all this, watch this space.

As I type, I am sat watching the X Factor (under duress) with my other half.

Number of sob stories who have made it through tonight = 2

There is a pattern emerging to who has 'The X Factor'.

These individuals fall into 2 categories;

1, Those that Simon wants to slip his tail into.
2, The sob stories. Those who've applied because it was the dying wish of their Mother, Sister, still born baby etc.

It's a bit of giveaway when the sob stories are about to get through though, because the show kicks into a docu style run down of how they ended up at X Factor. "It was my wife's dying wish that I applied for the show" or "My Gran sent the applcation in on her death bed. It's my destiny"

Cheryl will start to cry on cue and once they've finished their rendition of 'Wind Beneath My Wings' she comments "I duv'ent naa hue ya've coped. She'd have been really prude of yee"

PART 2. I wrote the above last week and I'm once again sat watching the show (under duress) with my other half. We are now in some sun soaked Holiday resort and the chosen few are singing for a spot on the judge's teams. The groups, the girls and the boys, oh and who could forget the over 50's.

It's cringworthy stuff. Each individual act has a blub prior to singing. "I just don't want to fail. I promised me Ma I'd make something of me sen and this is my only chance!"

ERRRR NO IT'S FUCKING NOT.

Here's a novel idea, why don't you apply yourself to doing something constructive with your life and actually work towards it. I'd say your first chance was the 11 years of School you spent tossing it off. It's worthy of note that the ones who cry about how much they need to win, are generally unemployed and living in a bedsit infested with cockroaches.

That's the problem with it all. All these fucking losers want the bling lifestyle, fancy cars and money to burn, but rather than work for it, they expect to sing a few songs for Cowell and Co and have everything handed to them on a plate.

I think the show would be far more entertaining if the contestants had to fight animals to get through each stage.
Week one could be a wild dog, week two a baboon etc....
By the time you've got a handful left they would be taking on Grizzly Bears. Being torn limb from limb, happy days.

I'd wager that they'd soon stop worrying about singing when they were backed into a corner by a Silverback Gorilla.

Anyway, rant over, I'm off to post my application for next year. You've got to be in it to win it, right?

This post has already been through a Metamorphosis, prior to me switching on my laptop.

Whilst walking through Meadowhall shopping centre yesterday, a post started to develop in my little brain. I was walking around, people watching as I always do and as I always do, I was mentally criticising just about everyone I saw.

One group that became apparent, were the 'poodles'. Women done up like dog's dinners. All a funny shade of orange, wearing trendy sunglasses indoors, dressed in the latest fashion, in expensive looking shoes, with expensive looking hair do's, make up caked on, walking limp wristed through the place, with numerous fancy paper shopping bags hanging from the elbows.

I decided I was going to rant about them on my blog. I started to look at subcategories, there were the ones pushing babies round in gucci pushchairs, with the shopping hanging from the handles. The middle aged ones who were clearly trying to battle with the aging process, with even more makeup on etc...

I came to the conclusion, that they were all kept women. Without a care in a the World, just spending their days doing their best to spend the obscene amounts of money thier other halves were making. They were all generally very attractive and therefore I presumed they had landed themselves a fella with mucho cash, in an attempt to live the ultimate life, that of the WAG. That seems to be the modern day equivelent of marrying into Royalty, becoming a WAG.

That was going to be the basis of this post. I was going to rant about how people these days live in a fantasy World, walking around in a permenant state of daydream. With no concept of reality.
The type of people who go on big brother and you think to yourself 'how the fuck does this person function in the real World?'. The answer to that one, is that there isn't a real World anymore. You can't go hungry anymore. The state wraps you in cotton wool from the outset and allows no harm to come to you. That is unless you're in full time average employment and in that case, you are cast to the Wolves and expected to fend for yourself.

I'm going off on a tangent again. I'll get this rant out of the way and then come back to my point,

RANT;

My rant continues. This Country is now at the point, that if you fall into one of two categories, you haven't a care in the World. Those categories are;

1. The uber wealthy
2. Scrounging bennifit grabbing scrubber.

The first is obvious really. You aren't gonna have any real worries if you are born into money. I know they say that money can't buy you happiness, but it must fucking help!!
We are now at a point though, that the percentage of the population with money to burn is higher than ever. You don't have to born into money to be rich anymore. Private sector wages have gotten rediculous to the point where people are in a position to spend stupid amounts of money on houses, cars, etc, which is why prices are soaring in this Country. It's nothing to do with inflation, it's been coming for years. Most of the lads I went to School with are on 60 or 70 grand a year. For what? most of them sit in Offices doing not a lot. They certainly aren't stressed or overworked, it's just the norm. Estate agents, car show rooms, restaurants etc have come to realise they can push prices up and up and up, because more people are in a position, where A, they can afford to pay silly money and B, They have no concept about what things should cost.
The WAG wannabes fall into this category, along with all the mongs from the big brother house. They all have obscure jobs that seem to pay stupid money. This leads to complete dependance on cash. A prime example is that stupid bitch Nikky. Despite looking a bit downs sydromey, she's seemed to have drifted through life without ever having to cook a meal, dress herself, change a light bulb etc. She's completely dependant on money. These are the people who pay people to clean their houses, clean their cars, pay people to arrange their walk-in wardrobes, pay people to take them shopping and cook for them.

The second category aren't as obviously happy and content as the first. But think about it. The average joe on an average wage, like me, spends his day worrying about the bills. Worrying about where they are gonna find the cash to fix the boiler if it breaks down, etc. I have no savings, nothing put away for a rainy day. My house is a run down old terrace in a not particularly nice area. It needs re-wiring, re-plumbing, the boiler is 20 years old and condemned. I need a new kitchen and bathroom suit, but can't afford one. I live hand to mouth.

So put yourself in the shoes of the career unemployed. They get provided with a nice semi, with a nice garden. They have their bills paid. If the boiler breaks down they ring the Council up and a new one is installed gratis. A window gets damaged, they ring the Council, a new one goes in gratis. They are given money for food etc.

They are looked after and haven't a care in the World.
There are the ones of course who go off the rails and end up getting into crime and ultimately end up hooked on Heroin etc.
You'd think that would be them outcast. They'd be cut of from all the help and handouts and made to live a life of misery. Oh no they don't. They are given all the help in the World. Drug treatment programs, visits from district Nurses, prescription drugs to help with th cravings etc. If they don't want help, it's forced upon them. It's ordered by the Courts, 'you will be helped'. Taxis will pick them up and take them to Hospital for treatment of their deep veined thrombosis etc....

The point I'm trying to make, is that two thirds of the population are in a permenant state of mollycoddle. They are free to drift through life, as safe as houses. Both in very different circumstances, but equally as looked after in one way or another.

As a result of all this, the Country is full of useless mongs who can't tie thier own shoes laces. Who wouldn't last a day without the life support that is the cash/handouts. I'd love to see another World War breaking out, requiring National Service. We wouldn't last five fucking minutes. There would just be a huge queue outside the Dr's Surgey the day after it was announced.
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That was my rant. However, whilst driving home from Meadowhall, I started to reflect on what was going to write, etc and started to wonder; 'Is it me'.

Is it me that just feels sorry for myself. Am I jealous of the poodles wandering around Meadowhall, oblivious of what it's like to have money worries etc. Do I wish I'd been born into money, or gone to uni like my mates and got a decent job that pays.

It probably is. I am jealous. For all I know, some of those poodles could have been successful business women on a day off. Who am I to assume they are kept women who have never done a hard days work. Even if they are kept women what's wrong with that?
I'd love to be a kept man. Having a handful of limitless credit cards to play with. I'd be done up to the nines in all the latest gear too. I'd have a flash car and a hot tub in every room of the house.

This is where this thing comes full circle. Is the problem that I'm a miserable bastard? or is just that I'm an ungrateful bastard who doesn't know how to appreciate what I've got.

Yeah my mates all went to Uni, but I joined the Royal Marines. A life changing experiance. I earned a Green Beret, you can't buy them!! I was on a good wage relative to my uni mates who had nowt and I spent months travelling the World, living in far flung Jungles, the Arctic wastes of Norway. I had free trips to Africa, Hong Kong, Malaysia,the Algarve. I was with some of the biggest characters I've ever met, laughing my cock off. Pissing up in some of the most obscure locations imaginable. having the time of my life and I'm now equipped with memories that make me glow inside with joy that I was able to experiance those things.
I'm now in a job I enjoy, with my own house and I'm engaged to a top chick, whose out of my league and puts up with the fact I'm ever so slightly mentally ill.
I have a great family who and I'm as healthy as a healthy thing (except for my shoulder injury, finger injury, ankle injury).

So from all of that, I should really take away the thought that I SHOULD be happy and appreciate what I've got. After all, are those WAGS really happy? I'm sure if you're a worrier and don't have to worry about money, you'll worry about something else. I am a worrier, therefore I'll just carry on worrying about money, but when I next have those thoughts of feeling sorry for myself and being jealous of mongs, I'll open this post up and remind myself that I do alright. I mean how many of those mongs have fast roped out of heliciopters onto speedboats, or chewed up food for their best mate who was slipping into unconsciousness through hyperthermia, or put an Intravenous drip into an oppo dying of heat exhaustion in a Jungle hundreds of miles from civilisation, or drunk a pint of another man's piss, not many I'd wager.

A halfwit from Manchester has today, gone to the National press complaining that she failed her third driving test through an unfair decision.

It's a sad reflection on the once great BBC that they didn't hang the phone up on her the minute she started to tell her story.

There are two things that grate on me regarding this whole thing.

1. There were 2 gruesome Murders in the town I live in this weekend. One of which was a youth who was stabbed to death during a fight with a rival gang! If it'd have been in Peckham it would have been at the top of the News reel. Yet because it wasn't in the big smoke, they have had to scrape the barrell and give this idiot airtime. How can ths possibly be construde as News of National importance.

2. What was this cretin thinking when she picked up the phone to ring the press. Did she honestly think she would come accross well?

In order for you to make an informed decision regarding this, I will explain further;

During the test, the testee dove through a large puddle soaking a pedestrian on the pavement!

This is infact a traffic offence and carries a £30 fine for careless and inconsiderate driving.

The girls justification for the call to the press, is that, and I quote;

"THERE IS NOTHING IN THE HIGHWAY CODE RELATING TO SPLASHING PEDESTRIANS AND IT ISN'T VERY CLEAR WHERE YOU STAND. THE HIGHWAY CODE SHOULD BE WRITTEN MORE CLEARLY SO PEOPLE KNOW."

Holy dog shit, what a retard.

If I'm not mistaken, there is nothing in the highway code, relating to 'mowing down a young Mother as she pushes her pram accross the road', but you don't fucking do it during your driving test!

A mate of mine at school clipped a carrier bag out of the hand of a shopper whith his wing mirror during his test and failed. He didn't demand the highway code be revised making it clear that you shouldn't clip pedestrians with bits of your vehicle. He didn't ring BBC News demanding justice.

What has the World come too when idiots like this are given the time of day. She should be banned from driving for life, purely on the grounds that she's an arse.

See for yourselves;

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/manchester/7605026.stm