FoshizniK!

I had some interesting things to say, but the back-end of the website isn’t working correctly, meaning I can only put up a short post like this.
Hopefully Wordpress will fix the issue soon, as it seems to be affecting a lot of people after a recent upgrade.
Bugger

A friend and former colleague emailed me today. “Dewey, I bumped some next matey’s car at the roundabout near the office. I said to him, OK pull off into that exit, indicating the first.

Because I braked I just scuffed his bumper, didn’t even damage mine. He was driving some 55 plate Mondeo.

I had three choices here.
1) Hand over all the dollar I had on me (about 10p)
2) Pull over, assess damage, take details and contact insurance
3) Chip.

I chose option three. He pulled down exit one like a n00b and I took exit four to continue on my way to work.

I thought I had got away with it, but mang, I dunno, the roundabout is hench busy but if he works locally there is always the chance of a rendez-vous by accident. The dude was black so I’m a bit unnerved.” (more…)

A while ago I posted a group on Facebook asking for people’s first status update. Mine, for example, was Tim is eating toast.

Since then I’ve often whinged about people whose status updates are a little on the dull side. OK we don’t expect sparkling wit from every corner of our circle of friends, but the odd slightly interesting thing would be nice. Those that simply post, “Bob is tired and is going to bed” and “Fred has got a headache and is going to take some Nurofen” or similar for every fucking update get on my nerves a bit. And don’t get me started on the soppy cunts who follow every single update about their current relationship with hearts and kisses and whatever fucking symbol you’ve discovered you can make by pressing some obscure key combination like Cmd-Opt-Shift-Y-& or whatever. (more…)

…to die in an oily fireball in a cheap old banger somewhere in the middle of Spain.

Well, OK that’s not strictly true, but you’d be forgiven for thinking that given my track record with sub-£250 cars and the plan cooked up with Messrs Waldock, Garrad and Farmer last night… (more…)

This is Simone Lahbib, 44 years old and she still got it!

She was Helen Stewart in the legendary Bad Girls! It may be wrong to fancy a bit of Simone Lahbib but everyone like a little bit of wrong occasionally.

You can still buy series 1 on amazon…go and have a look. You can also catch Lahbib in Wire In The Blood, Heartless, Monarch Of The Glen and others.

Not many Scottish ladies make it into FoshizniK top tens, but for the lovely Simone we are prepared to make one exception. The fact that she played a closet lezza for three years also helps in a 14 year old boy way!

Once again, I have been a bit of a fail at updating. Brilliantly I see that a lot of people are still visiting me, and these are regular non-robot visitors. Seeing as I rarely have anything interesting to say this does come as rather a surprise… Still.

Like all the great famous blogs of the past (let’s pretend for a moment that I’m a great famous blogger), life has got in the way of the internet and necessitated this brief hiatus from spilling the contents of my increasingly troubled brain into a readable format. Sadly, unlike people like Tom Coates, Cal Henderson and that Gerald dude, all fellow members of the old UK Bloggers Yahoo! group back in ‘01, I haven’t really been filling my time with anything intriguing or worthwhile. So what have I been doing? (more…)

Fark is absolutely fantastic. We know this so why would I elaborate?

fark.com Fark is ten

…a game of Roshambo, motherfucker!

Once upon a time we used to write “Cunt” wherever we could and take a photo. Seems some bright spark in Nottingham pinpointed one of the available-online CCTV cameras and played the game:

Winner.

On 11th February I’ll be 26, and as far as I’m concerned that is old enough.

Therefore I am not actually going to be aging. What I will celebrate is the first anniversary of my 25th birthday. Usefully, there is some d’n'b’n'dubstep silliness on the preceeding Saturday, in ‘orrible Neots at the New Inn.

On my last birthday I was working until past midnight, and moving house the next day, so celebration was nil. The previous birthday is lost to my mind – I was living in Huntingdon and have a sneaking suspicion I may have gone for a few drinks up there. But I’m not sure.

22nd was Hare’n'Hounds mayhem, with 50 people crammed into the back room as these were the times of Monday Night Pub Night. Much drinking done and much drugs lost, not by me I hasten to add, down the back of those secure storage box things. Oh, and a scrap with some dude which involved hair pulling and fighting dirty. Again, I was merely a spectator.

21st was a house party, and involved four of us demolishing two bottles of vodka in four and a bit minutes, shot by shot.

So I’ve had pretty much every standard type of cheap birthday celebrations the last few years, so that’s it. No more. I am not celebrating turning 26. I’m celebrating still being 25.

Good times!