Empty bars in the afternoon

By means of extemporaneous discourse a study of the curiosities and peculiarities of the human condition in its many wicked and wise ways

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[692] Holidays and the power of travel supplements

Much has been made this year of the impact of the recession on our holiday-making habits. Through the medium of those shit holiday sections in newspapers written by weary journalists wondering how their career ended up on the supplements desk, we’re informed that because a Ryanair flight to Italy now costs £20 rather than £10, we’re all going to throw a bucket and spade in the boot and head off for a fortnight at Butlins.

This, I can assure you, is bollocks.

This year, I’ve stuck two fingers up the ozone’s nostrils and flown to Spain on a 7p flight (including all taxes and my BFH), and I’ve travelled round a fair bit of Britain. What I’ve discovered is that nothing has changed. The persuasive effect of constantly being told that everyone in Britain is holidaying in Britain this year only has an effect in a passing way. It exists as a read more.

[688] Big Sam’s tactics

Just watch the second goal. And then watch it again. And then wonder why nobody at all seems to care about 6′5″ Chris Samba hurling himself straight into the keeper.

[684] The fear of emptiness

It has been quite some time, eh? I’ve been trying in this time to piece together the trailing ends of occasional thoughts, but being the busy boy I am, very often they’re just lost to time.

I wonder about the motive for everything - for the way people behave, for what goes on in the world, and so on. It’s a little habit that I think I used to have latently but over the last couple of years has very much come to the fore. I like thinking in this way although it does have its complications - sometimes the questioning gets carried away into a spiral of wonder and doubt, to my own eventual detriment.

At about the same time as this started, I remember beginning to think more. Just generally, you know… more and more time was going towards questioning, and asking, and trying to form conclusions. At first you read more.

[658] One for the hippies

There is no better way to prove you are the best and most winningest person in an argument than by dispensing a few facts.

In 2007, 45% of Christmas gifts would have been more appreciated by the person they were least intended for.
Between the fall of 1992 and spring 1998, four supertankers carrying Chinese toys to Europe sank in the world’s oceans, raising sea levels by 0.05cm.
If all the trees ever felled to print greeting card envelopes were stacked atop one another, alien life from as far as Alpha Centauri would see the planet Earth as a distant space lollypop.
PACKAGING IS INFURIATING

In this case, the argument is: Is packaging infuriating?

I’m not about to get all hippie on you, even though using the international unit of environmental damage (a Geldof), it’s known that six-pack ringlets kill 4 Geldofs of sea fish annually, and the irritating tin foil bit at the top of read more.

[655] At times of illness, I am not myself

What follows are thoughts on the effects of the physical upon the mental self

On trivial, irritating The One Show-like illnesses

Somewhat genetically predisposed towards the mental over the physical, in a different time and place I would have only a few small saving graces to thank for not becoming a hunchbacked, corrupted cynic in a Dickens novel. I am not a tall man, I am not imposing and while hypochondria is as familiar to me as the ins and outs of Grecian table etiquette, I am not the healthiest of men. Sat lumbering in my torso like a heavy heart, my stomach protests against the majority of foodstuffs known to man and leaves me with a constant streak of heartburn drawn in a smooth scalpel line down my chest. Current record of continuous days attendance: 6 years and counting. And yet this is not my greatest of woes, as time is read more.

[649] Axis of not-very-evil #1

It’s a funny old world. When I say funny, I mean egotistical and power-mad, but I guess that can be funny. Apparently we need ID cards to keep us safe and soldiers in our own country in case something nasty happens, and who can forget the *drum roll* axis of evil! Hmmm, that doesn’t sound quite scary enough does it - how about AXIS OF EVIL!! Or maybe Axis of Evil… or if the evil guys are hackers, the aX15 0f eV11.

However you choose to say it, all you need to know is that the axis are bad, just like in the Second World War. Anyone with a “x” in their name instantly becomes either a super-villain or a cleaning product, and to the best of my knowledge the North Koreans don’t have an international reputation for sparkling kitchen surfaces. They do, however, have a kick-ass boss… (and read more.

[647] Worth

Recently I’ve suffered what some might call writer’s block and others may call a retard finally shutting the hell up. Either way, I’ve recently found it very difficult to add anything of substance on here. It’s always been mostly just cathartic with the bonus now and then of letting new people get to know me a little bit quicker than me having to ramble away through my many digressions to show what I’m like. Now, though, that catharsis has gone as writing here doesn’t seem to have any benefit. Having thought about it, a possible explanation occurs: I’m moving from one stage to another.

When I think back, when I was a really quiet kid, my first battle in life was to overcome that and manage to get on with people. The real battle was to be funny because of the mates I had at school - back then, they were read more.

[644] Memories of parents

When I was young, my parents went out a lot. My dad used to be out from Wednesday ’til Sunday, and until my first sister came along my mum was out a lot too. It doesn’t take much to remind me of the times they spent getting ready to go out, because those times were filled with colour: sounds, smells, changes to the routine of the week. Fluffy clouds of talcum powder would drift downstairs as my mum left the bathroom. The smell of pork chops - the one meat I can vividly remember actually eating as a child - took over downstairs while my dad sat eating, watching brightly-coloured celebrities on Friday night TV. Their music from the time has, ever since, hit me as flashbacks at the strangest times. The theme from a TV show I haven’t seen in twenty years suddenly plays in the background and I’m read more.

[640] Death Magnetic

The opening of this album is a lot like being dragged along to a family party which you thought’d consist of pungent buffet and men in slacks talking about horsepower, but which turns out to be an all-night rave with free gin decanted from Gabby Logan’s perfectly formed thighs. After the badness of Metallica recently, scepticism about this effort was understandable. As it transpires, this scepticism was as justifiable as asking Honest Dave from Honestville whether his ID card personally signed by God was genuine or if he’d got it for twenty Bensons from a lad doing art at college. The first 45 seconds are pure Metallica - old school Metallica - but this is not a bad thing, oh no, this is a very good thing indeed. This is as old school as being told to sit next to a girl with long brown hair and spending the next read more.

[638] Us and them

American banks going a bit wonky this week have had the interesting effect of illustrating one of the problems of society on a mass scale. I’ve been thinking about this “mass” thing a lot, recently, as the simple issue of numbers seems to have a fundamental effect on how humans operate together. This banking problem casts light on the old “us and them” thing, or tribalism if you like. It’s inherent in all of us to some degree or less and it’s funny how America, a true mass society, has shown how “us and them” needn’t just apply to one group versus another but, when a group is sufficiently large enough, it begins to apply within the group itself.

Take a look at this article about the somewhat dubious plan to solve the crisis. Putting aside the fact it’s the most shameless con I can remember or even conceive of, read more.

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