What a Cnut.

In the Guardian today there is a story about the race for the Christmas number one . Turns out that Alexandra Burke (Winner of TV "talent" contest X-Factor) has released a cover of the Leonard Cohen track Hallelujah despite the fact that the only cover of Hallelujah is by the one and only Jeff Buckley. In the name of fairness I actually hied myself over to Youtube and listened to Ms Burke's version and what did I find? That it sucks so much there's a chance I may hunt the bitch down and strangle her with piano wire. And in case you think I'm overreacting I present to you the same choice I have just made. Firstly (and in order not to make you biased by making you hear the better version first) I give you Alexandra Burke's version. Adblock And here is Jeff Buckleys version . Adblock Light dawns and the choice becomes clear. Alexandra Burke's version makes you want to kick a kitten across the room in an apoplectic rage and Jeff Buckley's version sets your...

Wish that you would pop along for a visit .

Because it's possibly the most insane thing I have ever seen. The guy behind it is named Jean-Yves Blondeau and, as you can tell from his name, he's French. But that doesn't mean we should hate him. Quite the opposite in fact. Good old Jean-Yves has invented something called Buggy Rollin , a thing that has to be seen to be believed.

When standing behind the bar at work, I'd say that the people who frequent the place are more often than not brainless idiots... It's been about three weeks since I started my new job and without fail whenever a new face (new to me anyway) comes in the most popular question is "What football team do you support?" [1] To me this suggests one of two things. Either A.) They are brain-dead. Or B.) They are mindless idiots who measure a man, not by his deeds or his actions, but by which colour the overpaid Prima Donnas kick an inflated pigs bladder around a field he supports wears. [2] Both of these things are not good. Not good in the extreme if you ask me. I mean what kind of retard judges a man based solely on the football team he supports? Yes, you got it, the kind that likes to drink heavily, watch football and beats the shit out his girlfriend on a regular basis. In other words, my customers. Seriously, what is the mindset of someone who will come to a judgement on...

That no matter how hard you wish and plead to the fairies, or kiss a lucky cloverleaf, or click your heels together and recite "There's no place like home... There's no place like home... There's no place like home..." or pray to the very Gods themselves... You cannot transport yourself through the sub ether (Or whatever the correct terminology is) and materialise on a beach in Mozambique. This was not an easy thing to accept at the time, as I was standing behind a bar trying not to scream in someones face "YOU'RE AS INTERESTING AS A SECOND HAND TEABAG! GET OUT MY SIGHT BEFORE I STAB YOU IN THE HEAD WITH A PEN!" , so I focused my concentration and tried for somewhere closer to home... Specifically, Wales. Don't ask why my mind chose Wales, because I don't know. Of all the places I could have chosen that are closer to my house than Mozambique, which is six thousand and forty three miles away, at the time Wales seemed as good a place as any. D...

Last week after getting home from work I received a text message from my friend Steff at roughly midnight. The message read... "I just met my 22 year old daughter." "What the fuck has he been smoking?" I thought, immediately wondering whether or not I could get my hands on some. "It must be damn good stuff if he thinks his daughter is 22 years old, as far as I'm aware Zoe is only 12." I thought. About a minute later my phone rang. Lo and behold, it was Steff. "Alright man?" I said. "Whew man... Just whew." He replied. "What the fuck are you on about? 22 Year old daughter? Have you been drinking?" "No man... I'll tell you what happened..." Steff then explained to me that he had been at his Mothers house doing a couple of odd jobs for her and having finished had left and began to drive to pick up his other half, Wendy. When he was roughly halfway towards his destination his mobile phone rang. On the other end w...