The Bloke.co.uk | Life After the Lad

Some slebs climbed Kilimanjaro and raised £1.5 million : Fearne Cotton, Denise Van Outen, Alesha Dixon, Cheryl Cole, Kimberely Walsh, Chris Moyles, Ronan Keating, Ben Shephard and Gary Barlow all climbed the mountain and all lived.  Excellent.

Some Slebs

Except one small factoid caught my attention. Gordon Brown then topped it up by a further £2million to fight malaria.  Er, wait a minute.  That’s our money you’re giving away there Gordon.  Don’t you think this sums up the people that lead us?  I’ve already given to comic relief, I’ve bought the red noses (6 of the useless things), the kids took money into school and I’ve pledged my wedge.  In fact the country already gave a record *57 million quid* this year. More than ever before. The Brits are a compassionate giving bunch of people.

Nothing sums up these bastards in charge of us more than this unelected prime minister, boshing out £2million of our money in front of a bunch of celebs in number 10 so that he looks good at a time when we are borrowing , nay *gambling* unfathomable amounts of foreign money to kick start the economy.  ITS NOT YOUR MONEY TO GIVE AWAY - NO MATTER HOW GOOD THE CAUSE.

Every month or so ‘Jonny’ sends me his brochure.  It’s beautiful.  Nicely designed, good quality paper.  Must have cost a few bob to print and post - thanks Jonny for taking the time to send me it.  Then you start flicking through it whilst you’re waiting for the kettle to boil.  Hmm you say, that cotton onyx blue sweater looks really good on that rugged rugby playing 22 year old male model.  I bet if I buy that that onyx blue sweater i’ll look as good as him and I can live a life of middle class lovelyness full of sunshine, probably near a beach, but without annoying things like negative equity and overdrafts and I could marry a pert blonde lady who could also wear Boden stuff.  I want that life you say, and the sweater is the gateway to that life.

So you go online and you buy the onyx sweater for £63 and you wait.  It arrives.  You tear off the paper and the beautiful packaging comforted by the fact that you are now in Jonnys Gang.  You are part of the lifestyle of lovely lovelyness.Your ticket to ride the train to Lovelyville.

And you put it on.

And your tummy sticks out and it’s a bit tight around the shoulders and in the mirror you look like a different species when compared to the dashing rugged rugger player.  And it’s cost you £63!  For a bloody jumper!  And you’ve got a bank statement telling you that you have no money.  But can you really be arsed to pack it all back up in the lovely wrapping which you destroyed earlier in your eagerness to wear the jumper and then schlep down to the post office in town where you can only park for 30 minutes but then be forced to *queue for an hour* whilst every biddy in the world cashes their pension.  So you put it in the drawer - you can wear it on holiday this summer when you’re lost a bit of weight and your tan will go well with the onyx.  18 months later you’ll take it to Oxfam.

Am I the only one that is starting to think that Google is turning ever more sinister in its actions?  In the spirit of a the net we all turned a blind eye when China insisted they blank out certain anti-chinese sites on their servers.  We thought, heck, it’s fine - much better the chinese get access to the internet in the first place.

Then we notice that on our gmail accounts adverts pop up on the right hand side that are related to the content of the emails!  That Google are reading our emails.  (it does turn up some very odd adverts though).  but no, say google, it’s ok because we don’t actually *read* your emails we just have software that, er, reads the emails. Oh, you should have said!  thats fine.  carry on reading then.

The latest twist is that they are in the process of photographing *the entire world* so that we can virtually travel the globe from our desktop.  I briefly looked at it this morning and took a trip through Fulham in London, a place where I lived years ago.  It’s a strange feeling, a sort of disemobodied disconnectedness from the place.  The hussle and bussle of London, the smells of fast food and fags and car fumes and pubs and girls with too much perfume all absent.  The whole notion of travel without actually travelling anywhere isn’t really travel is it?  You’re not really experiencing anything.  You need to feel a place with all your senses, meet the people, feel the sun on your face, slip on the dog shit.  You have to wonder what’s the point of this exercise.  And back onto the sinister thing (which is where I started before rambling off onto the nature of travel) on the news last night you could use the tool to spot a bloke coming out of a sex shop.  Bet his Mrs didn’t know!  My worry with this sort of thing is what happens if this technology gets into the wrong hands.  As it always does.

We need to watch out for Google.  What started as a neat project in a garage in California by two geeks has become something rather creepy.  Like the start of some sci film.  I don’t doubt that the founders have evil intentions (although rumour has it that they are hollowing out a volcano ready to take over the world) but what happens when some even more sinister organisation buys them in 10 years time - say the Murdochs.

be very afraid of what they can be.

The BBC have just kicked Carol Thatcher off the One Show for saying the word gollywog (i must confess to feeling slightly wary even typing the word).  Now I never watch the One Show nor do I particularly have any fondness for Carol Thatcher.  But I’m getting the distinct impression that the BBC is frightened of it’s own shadow these days.  The Ross/Brand affair was badly handled when it was allowed to be broadcast but it seems the pendulum has swung to the other extreme.  The announcement makes it sound as if Carol was referring to a black person on air.  This of course would not be acceptable.  The casual racism of yesteryear should be stamped out and the golly was a symbol of a society that didn’t really consider the feelings of a large minority.  But Carols comments were off air!  Furthermore they were directed at the hair style of Andy Murray which is a bit sort of fluffy, dare I say a bit like the hair depicted on a gollywog.  It’s not, I agree, the best term of reference and the word has almost been expunged form the English Language but Andy clearly isn’t black and from what we can make out nobody was actually insulted.

So really the BBC fired Carol because she used the wrong word.  FOR FUCKS SAKE.  It makes you want to scream out loud.  Who are these people making these decisions?  Where do they come from?
I used to be great friends with a guy called Augustin (i say in the past tense because he tragically died in his late 20’s) who was great company, a raconteur, a big drinker, the life and soul of the party and somebody who had he been alive would undoubteldly be a large part of my life as he was when he was alive.  He was also black.  I’m not saying this to get my ‘black friend’ credientials in order.  I mention him because I was close to him and used to see the frustration and anger that causual racism brought to his life.  Small things like being ignored in shops or often turning up late because cabs would not pick him up.  Racism is cruel and painful and damaging and evil.  Yet the BBC and other similar liberal over zeloous practictioners of PC belittle the real pain of racism by taking it to such ultra petty levels.  They serve the exact opposite purpose by undermining the real fight we should all make against racism.

Whoever was outraged enough to dob Carol in should have had the courage to tell her that ‘that’ word belongs back in the 70’s and she shouldn’t use it.  Simple as that.  Instead today the BBC has made a complete twat of itself again.  I would say I am not paying my license fee but my love of Radio4 Comedy and David Attenborough alone is worth the £120 a year just for his spot on views about the world. They should put an ad in the Guardian for A COMMON SENSE DIRECTOR for the BBC.  And everytime they feel the need to make a twattish decision (weekly from what I can make out) the new Director should have to approve it.

The lyrics of the popular sea shanty “What Shall We Do With A Drunken Sailor?” have been changed by a Government-funded charity to remove any references to alcohol.

Bookstart, a national programme to encourage children to read, has amended the words of the song, penned in 1891, from “drunken sailor” to “grumpy pirate”.

The sobered-down version of the rhyme has been criticised by the Campaign for Real Education (CfRE), which believes children should hear full version.

Nick Seaton, from CfRE, said: “It is political correctness gone mad and totally unacceptable.

“Changing the words is simply trying to rewrite the history and tradition of this country.”

Parents are also angry that the shanty has been axed from songsheets at libraries across the UK.

The new version, “What Shall We Do With the Grumpy Pirate?”, was written for council-run “baby bounce and rhyme” sessions put on for parents and children.

Lines removed from the original ditty include “Put him in the brig until he’s sober”, “Keelhaul him and pass the bottle”, “Round with the rum and scotch and whiskey”.

The politically correct version instead has lines like “Do a little jig and make him smile”, “Make him walk the plank till he starts to wobble” and “Tickle him till he starts to giggle”.

Katherine Soloman, spokesman for Bookstart, said she could see how some people would think the change was politically correct.

But she said the change was to fit in with a “pirate theme” it was promoting.

The new lyrics:

What Shall We Do With the Grumpy Pirate?

What shall we do with the grumpy pirate? What shall we do with the grumpy pirate? What shall we do with the grumpy pirate? Early in the morning.

Hooray and up she rises, Hooray and up she rises, Hooray and up she rises, Early in the morning.

Do a little jig and make him smile, Do a little jig and make him smile, Do a little jig and make him smile, Early in the morning.

Hooray and up she rises, Hooray and up she rises, Hooray and up she rises, Early in the morning.

Make him walk the plank till he starts to wobble, Make him walk the plank till he starts to wobble, Make him walk the plank till he starts to wobble, Early in the morning.

Hooray and up she rises, Hooray and up she rises, Hooray and up she rises, Early in the morning.

Tickle him till he starts to giggle, Tickle him till he starts to giggle, Tickle him till he starts to giggle, Early in the morning.

Hooray and up she rises, Hooray and up she rises, Hooray and up she rises, Early in the morning.

Source: The Telegraph Online