



These are of the underground in Sweden. Slightly better than London or Newcastle (the ones l am used to), that's for sure.Booze, news and views from a drunken opinionated fool who can't spell very well, may well repeat himself, and can't blame it on dislexia
Everything Is A Remix: KILL BILL from robgwilson.com on Vimeo.
Stinson Beach Bubbles (canon 550D) from markdaycomedy on Vimeo.



Had a marvellous old time at the weekend. Been in for most of it, but went round to Deb and Rooks for Debbie's birthday do, as they had a BBQ (surprise). All went well until Deb fell and banged herself against the chimera (guilty party above), which resulted in a short trip to the hospital for some glue to a small cut. The FPO and Rook went with her, so l hung around a bit more, then buggered off home when l got the chance to sneak off.



I remember when l was a young whipper-snapper (those were the days my friend) and went hitch-hiking around Scotland with a friend called Gary Waitland , heading to Loch Ness to look for the monster (no joy). On the way back, we stopped off in Edinburgh, where l bought some records, including The Runaways album, which had just come out. It was not very good, and l ended up selling it to my brother, but since l have now got his old records, it has returned to me.
It is a farce that super injunctions are taken out by celebrities when they have been 'misbehaving' and have been caught out. Sadly, as l am a Manchester United fan, it pains me to see the front page of the Sunday Herald today, as they have not exactly gone out of their way to disguise the footballer involved. Brave of them to do so and l hope they don't get punished too much in the courts for daring to print the picture. The law - it's an ass sometimes (or as Ian Hislop once said, after another Private Eye trial, "If that's justice, l'm a banana").
These are the stinking bushes that are outside our house. Easily the most overgrown ones on our estate. This year, something will have to be done to them - l'm all for throwing petrol on them but the FPO says no to that. I guess they will just have to be chopped down and pulled out the old fashioned way. Boring boring boringTHE REAL BOB HARRIS: So there we are. Those were of course the Fabulous Bingo Brothers. And make a note that very soon ... we'll be having an entire Whistle Test program without them. ... Well, here's our last studio guest tonight, who needs no introduction from me, so until next week, goodnight. (He grins and looks offscreen. Fade to the studio. Raymond Onassis [Neil Innes] walks on, performing a number Neil is pretty well known for. He wears shades, a mouth harmonica, a light blue jacket, light blue pants, and that red and green cap he wears a lot in these shows.) PROTEST SONG Words and Lyrics by Neil Innes ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- NEIL: Uh, this next number is a protest song. (He tunes his guitar for ages.) Uh, I've suffered for my music, and ... now it's your turn. (He plays a terrible harmonica solo, then sings a la Bob Dylan:) All the prophets of doom can always find room In a world full of worry and fear Tip cigarettes and chemistry sets And rudolph the red-nosed reindeer So I'm goin back to my little old shack And drink me a bottle of wine That was mis en bouteille before my birthday And have me a fantastic time Rain on a tin roof sounds like a drum We're marching for freedom today Yeay Turn on your headlights and sound your horn If people get in the way (Another terrible harmonica solo.) Let me turn you on to the chromium swan On the nose of a long limousine Even hired for the day It is something to say But what the hhehhellll does it mean I may be accused of being confused But I'm average weight for my height My philosophy Like color tv Is all there in black and white RAAAAAAINN on a tin roof sounds like a drum We're marching for freedom today Yeay! Turn on your headlights and sound your horn (toot toot) If people get in the way (He plays one last loooong harmonica note, falling out of frame, then comes back into frame and ends it. He gives the beast sign, then bumps into the microphone. He can't see in those shades!) (Back to host Bridget, overwhelmed by flowers, and still smiling.) BRIDGET: Well, that's about the size of it. Rutland Weekend is closing down now, so until next week, goodnight everybody!
This was unfurled at Liverpools last home game of the season (against Spurs). Class. Here's a quote from one of the lads that did it.We’d been planning this for years and i’m buzzin it’s come off. We’d gotten 2 tickets in the Anfield upper and got the banner made on Friday. As we walked up towards the ground i had the biggest ****in grin on me head knowing we were about to pull it off. My only worry was not getting in with it. I shouldn’t have worried. A few beers on the concourse and we waited for YNWA to start as that was our signal to go. We walked down to the front of the teir and unfurled it. We had to hold it up cos there was nothing to tie it onto and it was up for for roughly 40 seconds before i got launched by the stewards. A bit of spit and that was all. It was a ****in scouse slag that spat at me too i think
Fair play to the Spurs fans who were buzzin and we threw it down into their end. Afterwards we walked round the ground and then had a couple of pints near Goodison with an Everton lad my mate knew and got a call saying their lads were looking for us. Not suprising really is it!
The Man Brooker prize (yawn) has been emroiled in controversy (yawn), as Philip Roth won the £60,000 prize, but Carmen Callil, the founder of feminist publishers Virago Press (yawn) walked from the panel, saying she did not rate Philip Roth's work at all. If she does not like his books, that's fair enough, but she was on a panel (of only three people - why?), so she should have stated her reasons for liking (or not liking) whatever books were to be judged, the same as everyone else on the panel. They then choose a winner after all the arguments have been put forward. That is what the panel is there for, which she obviously knew in advance. To then walk off in a strop, quitting on the eve of the announcement, because you disagreed with the panels choice is pathetic (the other two loved the Roth book). Probably just doing it to get publicity, so l am actually assisting her in my own small way. Damn!!
Small, crafty, cowering, timorous little beast,
O, what a panic is in your little breast!
You need not start away so hasty
With argumentative chatter!
I would be loath to run and chase you,
With murdering plough-staff.
I'm truly sorry man's dominion
Has broken Nature's social union,
And justifies that ill opinion
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor, earth born companion
And fellow mortal!
I doubt not, sometimes, but you may steal;
What then? Poor little beast, you must live!
An odd ear in twenty-four sheaves
Is a small request;
I will get a blessing with what is left,
And never miss it.
Your small house, too, in ruin!
Its feeble walls the winds are scattering!
And nothing now, to build a new one,
Of coarse grass green!
And bleak December's winds coming,
Both bitter and keen!
You saw the fields laid bare and wasted,
And weary winter coming fast,
And cozy here, beneath the blast,
You thought to dwell,
Till crash! the cruel plough passed
Out through your cell.
That small bit heap of leaves and stubble,
Has cost you many a weary nibble!
Now you are turned out, for all your trouble,
Without house or holding,
To endure the winter's sleety dribble,
And hoar-frost cold.
But little Mouse, you are not alone,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes of mice and men
Go often askew,
And leave us nothing but grief and pain,
For promised joy!
Still you are blest, compared with me!
The present only touches you:
But oh! I backward cast my eye,
On prospects dreary!
And forward, though I cannot see,
I guess and fear!
toodle pip


