Just Another Fucking Observer

More often than not, my working life is of the quiescent variety - nothing much ever happens and the days pass by with mundane regularity… but not today. This Friday was an incident-filled extravaganza the likes of which I’ve not experienced for a while. And for once, I kicked things off.

How? well, I flipped my lid. Usually you’d find me to be a placid individual - I like to avoid confrontation, and I like to brush off the remarks of others as things that do not concern me… but not today - today I let fly. I got pushed into a corner by another member of staff and instead of the customary fake laugh and shrug of the shoulders, I unleashed a volley of wild obscenities, much to the dismay and amusement of on-lookers. Why? Because I’m sick to my fucking hind teeth of being the person it’s easy to blame shit on, and I’m tired of letting it happen…. today it stopped.

Seems my little outburst acted as the catalyst for others to follow, and before long everyone was at it, letting their opinions and views be known to one and all, and to hell with consequence. I doubt that this actually was directly influenced by me, but I kinda like the idea… so viva la revolution!

Friday is usually the day Chris and I chat most, and whilst we converse about an amalgam of strange topics, the content will invariably return to sex, and for some odd reason; sticking one up a girl’s ‘poop shoot’. I’ve already covered why anal sex is not a pursuit I’d at all desire to indulge in, but it does have a great deal of comedy to it. To me it’s just odd to the point of hilarity - how does blasting someone up the ass go hand-in-hand with tender love making?  There is no possible way it can in my humblest of views, although I’m certain there are those that would strongly disagree. Could a romantic fire-side evening complete with chocolates and fine wine be perfectly accompanied by the girl of your dreams declaring “I need you in my ass, this second“? I don’t think so, that’s for damn sure.

Anyway, that’s enough on ‘dookie shooting’, and enough from me for the time present - I’m going to break the cycle and get my self a (relatively) early night for a change.

To those who posted a few comments, and shot my daily hit rate up to a whopping 104 views: I thank you for taking the time, and hope you drop by again soon. It’s nice to know a few of you guys appreciate a bit of what I write.

The weather in good ol’ Bristol rarely makes up it’s mind. One day we can be basking in the glory of warmth and sunshine, the next shielding ourselves from imminent precipitation. The reason for this little post about current climates and conditions is yet again my inability to get myself to bed at a respectable hour. Yesterday we had beautiful sunshine - it was a joy to walk about Clifton having a nice leisurely stroll taking in the sights. Today however, sucked balls. It was the traditional British grey, overcast with a high potential for showers. A day for spending inside watching a good movie (Crash on Film4 filled that criteria nicely - what a quality, quality flick - I don’t mean the weird one about car-wrecks with James Spader)

That said, and as I’ve said before; variety is the spice of life, and constantly changing weather conditions keep us on our toes if nothing else. OK, I’m actually taking my ass to bed now, and hopefully soon I’ll be dreaming of an erotic massage from Penelope Cruz. I’ve got work tomorrow at 9:30am so I’d better make sure I’m not a sleep-deprived disgrace, otherwise great fury from my superiors could well ensue - I find it’s best not to give the motherfuckers any extra ammunition to take pot-shots. Self-preservation, baby!

Thanks for reading if you’ve read any of this.

I’ll start by trying to make something abundantly clear: I do not in any way consider myself to be a racist, as a matter of fact; I can’t stand the people that are. The thing that confuses me nowadays is what actually is and is not racist? By common stereotype; racists would be middle-aged corporate White men sat in a high-rise building stroking their beards and thinking of new ways to halt the progress of the ethnic minorities. These days in reality, there are just as many Black or Asian racists out there, yet somehow their views are not as damned as their White counterparts. My personal hatred to do with racism is that its somehow not deemed as bad, or even acceptable if the person expressing racist views is not a White man. Racists should be treated with equal disgust.

Take the Rodney King beating: 4 White cops beat the shit out of a Black man on camera. OK, so at face value it’s pretty much unforgivable, but ask yourself; does someone who’s been caught driving at speeds in excess of 100mph whilst coked of his tits who then attacks the police not deserve a fucking good beating, regardless of skin colour? Would there of been as much out-cry and rioting had it been 4 Black cops beating the shit out of a White man for the same reason? I’ve been sat in the stands at a football match and heard Black men shout abuse toward the White players, would they be treated with the same contempt I would have had I been doing the opposite? They should be looked upon with the same repulsion an idiotic White man would be for making that kind of remark. I’ve seen racism toward Black people, and it’s as pathetic as anything I’ve witnessed, usually stemming from idiots who refuse to look at life with an open mind, and I hate it the other way around in equal measure.

Why does racism itself seem dependant on skin colour?

Look at Black American comedians: their acts more often than not contain jokes about the white community, they’re usually funny observations that are jokes and nothing else. Switch the scenario around and all of a sudden it’s racist. A joke should be a joke, regardless of the person telling it. If people could use the humour we gain from each other differences it would be so much simpler. Asian men are normally short. Black men do have big lips, White men are terrible dancers. Why not just see the funny side of that? If a Black man is in love with a White woman, or vice versa, then why the fuck should either group see this as a bad thing? If they love each, then creed, class or background should not apply.

Before I go on, I’d like to point out that I do agree that as a Caucasian male, I’ve probably not had similar experiences to racism as my Black or Asian counterparts. There are more than enough examples out there to prove that as a people, the Black or Asian community have every right to feel oppressed or picked on, as that can often be the case. However, it does not give them the right to behave in a similar manner to the very people they complain about.

It’s just so easy to be branded a racist in today’s climate for making even the most innocent of statements, and whether they care to admit it or not, some black and Asians thrive on the ‘get out of jail free’ card that is the accusation of racism. I’ve seen Asians brand the police racist for no other reason that the social permutations such accusations have, something that couldn’t happen from a mirrored perspective. History tells us that White men are the chief perpetrators of racism, and whilst I don’t dispute this fact at all, I don’t agree it gives any minority group who may of once been the victims of such abuse the right to use it as an excuse to get themselves out of trouble.

Perhaps now even I’ll be branded racist for the opinion I’m expressing, and to those people I’ll say this: I hate racists, whatever the colour of their skin maybe. White, Black or Asian - a racist is a racist.

I’m a big movie buff, it’s something I don’t post about as much as I should. Over the course of the years I’ve seen quite a few flicks, and whilst a huge chunk of them have been truly memorable, there’s a select few that have been so vomit-inducing that I’ve been tempted to scribe a harshly written letter of denunciation to those responsible for allowing such garbage to be released. Some films can be so bad that they’re actually really good, but some like the few I’m going to mention are beyond the point of even that dubious honour.

I’ll start of this diatribe with the worst of the worst: RoboCop 3. You’ll find that ill-conceived sequels are a rich source of cinematic travesties, but I’m yet to witness anything as poorly made as this hapless pile of shite. With the up-coming TV series due for release, executives presumably felt that the third film had to incorporate less on-screen violence than its predecessors, so gone was the comic book carnage of the first films and in its place the viewer was left with action that would not be out of place in a bad Sunday afternoon movie from the 50’s.  Also gone was Peter Weller, the man who played RoboCop in the previous incarnations, replaced by a nobody with the acting chops of a wounded ferret. I love the original movie with a passion, it’s such a well made and perfectly executed flick that it enables the suspension of dis-belief for what is the silliest of concepts, a work of art in how to make something out of not a lot. The third movie shows exactly how bad the premise of a robotic policeman could be. The script was apparently penned by graphic novelist Frank Miller, a man responsible for the Sin City books. I can only guess he must of been weeping with horror the moment he realised his name would be associated with RoboCop 3 forever more. Bad acting, bad story, woeful action set-pieces, pathetically un-funny attempts at humour and to top it off; RoboCop uses a fucking jet-pack to fight of the advances off a gang of OCP-backed looters after defeating robotic Ninjas from a more advanced Japanese company. You’d be hard pressed to actually make up something as bad, and to think; there is somebody out there who not only thought it was a good idea, but they were willing to spend a fair bit of money on getting it made.

Next we come to Michael Bay’s attempted epic masterpiece; Pearl Harbour. Fuck me, where do I begin? 3 hours of my life I wasted watching what isn’t a historical reenactment of an important event, but the documentation of how the Japanese bombed a fucking love triangle. Imagine the most insipid love story imaginable placed into either Saving Private Ryan or Full Metal Jacket, and you’ll understand how out of place it is, and Pearl Harbour doesn’t even possess even the smallest amount of brilliance from either of the aforementioned when it comes to the war element. And those aren’t even the worst parts. The acting is terrible, almost to the point of the viewer leaning toward thinking the actors are performing purposefully as bad as possible so their participation in the film can’t be take seriously. I’m a big fan of Ben Affleck, his work in the likes of Changing Lanes and Chasing Amy shows that the guy has real talent, but even his most ardent supporter would find it difficult to mount a series defence of his work here. His character - the awfully named ‘Captain Rafe McCawley’ seemingly dies, is reborn so to speak and then cradles his friend (Josh Hartnett) in his arms - who actually does die. All this is performed with the kind of ham-fisted cheesiness that would shame even the campest of Pantomimes. The worst part, well that accolade belongs to the Director. Michael Bay just bugs the shit out of me, even the simplest of scenes has to involve the most bizarrely over-the-top camera moves and editing, and his choices in production are laughable. Pearl Harbour does boast a great ensemble cast, with the ever-reliable likes of Tom Sizemore and Jon Voight showing up, but not even such stalwarts of American cinema can save the biggest waste of time and money mankind is ever likely to witness.

Lastly we come to Beverly Hills Cop 3,another in the long line of terrible sequels to films that I really love from days gone by. The original is fantastic, it was a great veichle for the comedy talents of Eddie Murphy, and one of the better examples of how to do a ‘fish out of water’ comedy. Martin Brest directed it (and the wonderful Midnight Run)with great aplomb, and thanks to a perfect supporting cast and genuinely funny script - the whole thing worked perfectly. Much like RoboCop 3, Beverly Hills Cop 3 fails for the reason it doesn’t include a single thing that made the original great. Tony Scott’s first sequel upped the ante as far as the action and pace was concerned, and turned out to be hugely fun, but John Landis’ third installment takes away all the fun and replaces it with plain old ‘going through the motions for a pay cheque’. The story is about as funny as suffering a close-range gun shot wound to the penis, and the cast and villain are beyond awful. Even the inspired return af Bronson Pinchot as ‘Serge’ from the first film is poorly written and unfunny - a pitiful attempt to bring back some of the originals winning formula. The best way I could describe the experience of watching it would be; it’s like watching a group of older men desperately trying to recreate something that they could do in their youth, but are sadly out of touch with in later years. It’s a great shame that some folk decide that they have to attempt another money-making sequel to what was a great film, and if history shows them anything; it’s ideas like that are usually fucking bad to the point of being moronic.

There are of course lots of terrible movies out there, and I’d agree with anyone that said taste is very much subjective, but any of you good people out there in WordPress land can think of  a worse trio of films made in recent years then I’d truly love to hear about them and your reasons why. I await a few comments with baited breath.

You gotta love the big fella. A 30 goal return from his first season as our most prominent striker, and the kind of dedication that a certain Alex Hleb would do good to take note of, instead of complaining about ‘noisy cities’ and other such tired excuses from someone who basically wants a big fat pay-day.

When yet again linked with a move abroad, Adebayor commented:

“I don’t know why people want to put words in my mouth. As I said on Friday, I love Arsenal and I will be here next season.

 ”I am off to Togo tomorrow but will return to Arsenal for pre-season training in July.”

It’s good to hear someone come out and commit to the club in view of the current spate of wild speculation. The other main news coming from the Arsenal has been the rumours of an imminent new signing. If the rumblings being heard amongst the media are anything like truthful (fat chance) the the most likely candidate is Lyon’s Haten Ben Arfa, a tricky young French winger who would be a great addition to the squad.

Arsene Wenger also took time out to compliment the permanently injured Robin van Persie:

“It’s true that he has missed many, many games this year. We lost him and Eduardo at the same period and it was really bad luck because Eduardo had come on well too.

“You always hope that next season Robin will have an injury-free season. He has so much talent so I am very keen to keep him, I trust him and I hope that he will get rid of his injuries.

“It’s simple. For me, Robin van Persie is world class, top, top class.“

Never a truer word spoken, and here’s to hoping we can see the impact RvP can have if he stays fully fit for a whole season.

I am, I’m bloody knackered. I think it’s mainly due to my current ‘No Caffeine’ regime - a small step on the way to a healthier me. Caffeine has now been replaced to the crack-like addictiveness that is the Innocent Smoothie. There must be a secret ingredient in those things as I can’t get enough of them, even as I write this I’m sporting a Smoothie beard from overly fast consumption. Anyways, in the now-customary list form, here’s a few things of interest to me today:

• It’s absolutely brilliant fun to throw grenades of burning paper into a lavatory cubicle whilst a friend is doing his business. Whilst Chris audibly struggled with the process of dropping a bowel bomb, I threw a burning roll of toilet paper through the door, scorching the hair on his leg. I was highly amused, he wasn’t.
• Apocalypse Now is still my favourite war movie of all time. Film4 was showing it tonight, and watching an hour or so reminded me of it’s sheer power. I’ve never experienced anything remotely like war, but I imagine it contains the type of total madness so brilliantly encapsulated in Francis Ford Coppola’s flick. The scene where the crew of the boat gun down an innocent Vietnamese crew after searching their vessel gets me every time- notably Martin Sheen’s performance and his stoic delivery of dialogue before executing a dying woman in cold blood just to preserve the efficiency of his mission.
• I hate to watch my friends cry. I’m bloody useless when it comes to being compassionate - I’m the arsehole making stupid jokes in a pitiful attempt to inject a little levity into things. Liv had a bit of a cry today, she was (again) singled out for blame by her superiors, not for actual performance by all accounts, more a question of chauvinism popping its ugly head up. She’s a great girl who doesn’t deserve that kind of shit, and I wish I could of done a better job of consoling her. Luckily there were more qualified members of staff around to aid her, leaving me to resort to my usual buffoon tactics. With regard to the cause of her anguish; well, as I like to say of people who annoy me: “Fuck ‘em, and everyone who looks like ‘em”.

That was the days main events in all their dubious glory. I know it’s not exactly the most fascinating or enlightening of reads, but fuck it; I am tried…

Today was one of those curious days I have from time to time - alot of muddled thoughts with a lack of clarity. I like to day-dream, it’s a hobby that I’m yet to out grow and one that I’m extremely fond to still posses. Basically I wandered aimlessly for the majority of the time, entertained only by the ability my mind has to conjure the most extrinsic of things. I like to think my powers of cogitation are pretty good, especially if the subject in question is dear to my heart - something which the daily grind of my working life does not tend to enter.

I started first by contemplating whether or not I should ease off with my piss-taking. I love to have a joke with people, it’s kind of my repressed way of showing affection, but on occasion I do feel I’m more than capable of over-stepping the mark. My barometer for those which can take a bit of a giggle is usually second to none, even if at times my sights have known to be inaccurate. There was no particular instance today to back up this fact, but I felt when you’ve referred to an older member of staff as a “hag-bag” for the umpteenth time - you’re most probably deserving of a punch in the face.

After that was done and dusted, I chuckled to myself at the thought of having Dirty Harry as our general manager. This was not intended to disrespect the current incumbent, but if Clint Eastwood’s signature character was in charge; nobody would dare question any decisions made.  It would be just about the most perfect appointment made in the modern catering era. Imagine questioning a choice of menu, or the location of a Buffet only to find that seconds later the barrel of a Magnum .44 is sticking into your nostril. It’s certainly something that would make a select few of the current staff members think twice before proceeding with their oh-so banal rants about what should and should not be done, and more to the point - who should/shouldn’t be doing them. Dirty Harry wouldn’t think twice about administering a twatting to anyone who dared question working practices for their own stubborn desire to do as little as possible - he’d take no shit and rule with an Iron fist, quickly sorting out those that dare cross his path with uncompromising methods. Dirty Harry for G.M!!!

After completing my hefty task list, my final thoughts of the day returned back to relationships, and most pertinently; the next one I’ll be involved in. These are currently barren times for yours truly folks, and whilst I tend to debate whether I still have the same allure I once had to the fairer sex, I left matters thinking that I’m not the worst guy in the world; there’s bound to be someone out there stupid enough to want to go out with me. I just haven’t been made aware of this fact yet. The law of averages certainly backs me up on this claim.

On that chipper note I’ll sign off for the night.

There are times being single can make you feel lonely, unattractive or a failure in some respect. Other times you are happy to not have the kind of problems you see other couples immersed in. Recently seeing both sides of the argument has made me feel that it’s just a nessecery evil: you have to accept a little bit of the bad, in order to have the good. I’ve been a single guy for quite a while now, and it’s only recently I’ve started to miss having a ’significant other’ or a ‘ball and chain’. Most importantly I’ve started to notice that there are some people in relationships that really have no idea how lucky they truly are, people who are only too willing to sacrifice a marriage/partnership on account of pursuing something they believe to be more visceral than what they currently posses - an activity that is rarely well thought through.

Me personally? I’ve had a mixed bag. I’ve been with some girls who were brilliant, with whom I clicked and I still kinda miss in a way. Others I wouldn’t piss on if they were ablaze. I’m not the most prolific, but I’ve had enough experience to know a few things about relationships. So what makes a good one? In a word: compatibility. Sounds really simple, but you’d be surprised just how many couples there are who are not compatible with one another. Compatibility is something of an invisible element, it’s hard to pin-point it as being any one set of criteria, it’s more like an unspoken understanding between people. Two people click for many reasons; shared interest, shared opinion or shared experience to name but a few, but it could be anything. Compatibility also extends itself to matters of a sexual nature, and lets be honest here; no relationship is going to work without of bit of the good stuff in bedroom related matters. Fucking is not extraneous, do not let those ‘bleeding heart liberal’ motherfuckers tell you otherwise -good sex is important. Second only to compatibility is communication - as Bob Hoskins once so eloquently put it: “It’s good to talk”. Being able to discuss happiness and potential problems is critical to the point of being fucking essential. Clam up, and you’ll soon see things head toward the murky realms of the nearest shitter.

My good relationships have had all of the above mentioned - as will any future ones I hope. Now we come to the bad, and an excuse for me to let of a little steam about relationships in days gone by. Firstly DO NOT under any circumstances go out with someone you consider to be stupid. It sounds like a fucking harsh thing to say, but it’s for the best as they’ll eventually drive you to the point of drooling insanity. Intelligence may be very much subjective, but common sense is not, and I went out with a girl that didn’t know shit from shampoo with regard to common sense. Any relationship based solely on sex is also doomed. I know I said sex was important, but it’s not the most important thing. Once that initial infatuation wears off, you’ll be left with someone who you realise you don’t even like as a person. The most important thing I avoid nowadays is to not be that rebound guy. I made that mistake once, I’ll never make it twice. It’s important to accept that somebody has a past, but when that past makes them act distant, peculiar and down right psychotic for what appears no reason at all, then you’ll be pissing into the wind no matter how hard you try. People do some pretty weird shit in relationships, but the last girl I went out with defined crazy. She was unable to talk about anything, she was thicker than a bucket of shrimp and had just left a 3 year relationship with some jackass that treated her like a piece of the proverbial. In short: 11 months of completely preposterous behavior ensued, and I was left as confused as I’ve ever been. I’m not the type who blames others easily, as I know I have my faults and I’m pretty down on myself at times, but she took the biscuit of blame in my humble opinion - even admitting so herself.

I hope I don’t come across as a misogynist, as I feel blame in general is relative; Men and Women can be equally as strange and insecure in their own way. I love women, I just don’t have much fondness for relationships with those I don’t click with, and the real blame lies with me for getting myself into them.

I’m a sucker for a bit of transfer speculation. Every morning in an almost religious show of dedication, I check TeleText to see who the papers are linking to the Arsenal first and foremost and our rivals secondly. Today sees the tabloid press assuring the humble reader Arsenal will be making bid’s for: Barcelona’s Yaya Toure(Good player, I’d like to see this one come true. This story has already been covered far better than me over at GunnersLive), Atletico Madrid’s Ignacio Camacho(An 18 year old wonderchild I’ve never seen play) and bizarrely enough, a 1 million pound bid for Manchester City’s Richard Dunne.

Strange mix of players, isn’t it? Time will tell how much truth there is in these rumours.

The away trip to Sunderland sees our last game of what has been a roller-coaster ride of a season. We showed all the promise and potential possible, but just came up short when it was time to stand up and be counted. A huge disappointment, but one that came with an abundance of plus points. We should be proud of our team. Who thought Adebayor would turn into a 30 goal a season striker? Not many of us I’d hazard a guess, Ade’s form and progression have both been phenomenal, and the guy deserves every bit of praise handed to him - especially for that goal at White Hart Lane. Almunia has proved himself a solid Keeper, Theo has shown signs of the brilliance to come and Gael Clichy looks to be twice the player Cashley ever was. It’s a pity we had to play so many games without Rosicky, Eduardo and RvP. My player of the season is probably Cesc Fabregas. At 20 years old he is essentially the complete midfielder, when he hits his prime years between 26 and 29 he’s going to be frighteningly good - lets collectively pray this happens in an Arsenal shirt. We may not have come out the victors this season, but victory today at Sunderland would leave us with a final points tally of 83, something that is an achievement in itself.

Well played lads, I look forward to seeing you next season. Well, most of you.

Looks as if it’s set in stone now, doesn’t it? After a mere 3 seasons with the Arsenal (only one of which was any good) Alex Hleb appears dead-set on a move to Internazionale of Milan. Some have quoted Hleb’s disillusion at the lack of trophies, but the real contributing factor is simple: money, and lots of it.

Sky Sports News reported this story and quote from Hleb’s agent, Nikolai Shpilevski:

“Alexander is preparing to make the most important moves of his life.

He is leaving Arsenal even though they want to offer him a new long-term contract and better conditions. Only time will tell if leaving is the right decision, but there’s no way back now. Everything will be cleared up in the next two weeks.”

It’s a shame to lose a player of Hleb’s undoubted ability, but much like Flamini; we survived the loss of bigger and more influential players, and we’ll survive losing Alex Hleb. Reports already suggest Wenger is lining up swoops for both Gareth Barry and Roma’s Alberto Aquilani to strengthen our midfield, and while I doubt either story will come to fruition, the time for action is fast approaching.

The weeks leading up to Euro 2008 should see Wenger bring in a few players with a bit of luck. With all this speculation and constant idle chatter, you’d be forgiven if following the Arse was making you a bit glum. Well, here’s a tonic: I was doing my daily rounds ‘Tag Surfing’ when I came across this post from The World of Arsenal

Great stuff, and it sums things up brilliantly.