21 December 2012

Immortal Kombat

It was the 90's. Hair and undercuts were all the rage, Fantasy world et al the places to be and the puffa jacket (black with orange lining) were just about still in.

For sure 'Street Fighter' had the serious combo competitive crowd hooked with tweaked release upon tweaked release, but I have many a fond memory of 'Mortal Kombat 2'.

Better graphics, more gruesome fatalities, friendships, animalities, babalilities (yes they invented a words too) and a huge roster of largely similar characters blew the teenage console crowd away.

The original, with its migraine inducing visuals and Kreaky Kombat looked positively archaic in comparison. The game courted controversy like Jordan courts fake tan, and we lapped it up.

It didnt matter the combos were limited, or that many of the cast were just alternate avatars with identikit movesets I wanted to see Kung Lao cut a guy in half with his hat, and give Baraka a birthday cake.

I never owned the game myself, my friends dad was getting divorced at the time of release and brought it his sons (to paper over the heartache of the situation) and we spent many an evening in Two player combat not discussing our mothers.

Good times.

17 December 2012

Not wrist ache...more like writers block

I've posted a lot of random rants and non-sensical opinions in the past, but I have also posted the skeletons of potential short stories/novels. I tend to add these to on line writing sites, spend the next few hours clicking refresh every six seconds or so until the soul crushing reality that no-body is ever going to find my contemporary take on office romance or wannabe boy bands, let alone read or rate them hits.

From time to time I will go back and check on these sites just in case someone has messaged me a massive book deal (or explicit fan mail). Neither has yet transpired.

However what little feedback I have had is indeed positive. For one, my sense of humour seems to be hitting home with readers, as are the ideas behind several of my stories.

So why am I not cracking on to finish these potential bargain bin efforts?

I'm out of juice. My creativity is slowly suffocating in a sea of chores, parenthood and heavy prescription medication.

                                                       Dramatisation for purpose of article only

So I ask you, the audience for any kind of help or advice to get me back on track, or to get me down the dole office, whichever is more feasible.

Thanking you!

6 December 2012

A squishy end

I've just finished an enjoyable little Vita game (free courtesy of Sonys' PS Plus service) called "Tales from Space: When Mutants attack".

You begin the games as a tiny green blob who is pretty ticked off watching Humans experiment on his friends daily with a variety of pointy implements.

Across the 24 levels you slop, jump and absorb objects smaller than yourself to add to your mass, which in turn allows you absorb bigger objects and access more of the level.

By the end of the game you will of digested hundreds of civilians, portions of the US army, entire cities, the earths centre, the earth, the solar system and the sun itself.

We can learn to important lessons from this budget priced piece of software:

• Given the chance, a Space Mutant will absorb you and all you care about

• Though seemingly unstoppable by conventional means, series of precarious hung platforms, rotating laser beams and rows upon rows of sharpened spikes will hinder its attempt at Solarside.


30 November 2012

Twins of Evil Tour - Birmingham 29/11/12

First off let me be clear about my metal credentials...or lack of. This is only my third ever gig, and my cinematographers (the wife) second (her first was 'Status Quo) so yeah, we are very much concert virgins.

After surviving the 12,000 strong heaving crowd, getting slowly stoned from their collective drug habits and covered in beer all I need now is for the ringing in my ears to subside to an acceptable level to function in polite society.

I'd read a lot of reviews regarding Marilyn Mansons performances on the tour thus far. Words like 'tired', 'flat' and 'disinterested' occurred with alarming regularity, yet I need not of feared. Whether he raised his game as he was performing in the hometown of Metal, or just felt like the impressive turnout deserved the Manson of old he was back to his menacing best.

While not as pitch perfect as he once was his blood curdling screech and contorted grimaces were back in abundance as he led the throngs through old favourites 'Disposable teens', 'The Love song', and his excellent cover of 'Sweet Dreams'. There was plenty of new material too including my new personal favourite 'No Reflection'. Highlight of the set was probably the snow drenched 'Coma White' (although the snow tasted more than a little funky).

Many of the crowd were saying that he was back to his best and on this showing I have to agree, hell even 'King Kill 33' got an airing. Sat straddling a cyberhellish podium and leering at the crowd, Manson may of lost a little of his shock but he still demands your attention and cavorts it with an untouchable style.

I only recently became a fan of Rob Zombies brand of US rock/metal but I was looking forward to seeing him live.

Although we were further back this time (due to a necessary water break) he did not disappoint.
With an army of cyborg carnival style puppets on stage and even his own personal war machine Rob rattled through his impressive back catalogue with an admittedly broken voice.

He engaged the crowd on several occasions before his 'Dragula' encore and there were solos from Ginger Fish and John 5 too. Which was nice.

The majority of the crowd was really there to see Manson and this showed as Zombie never quite got the crowd as pumped, through no fault of his own. I was disappointed there were no 'Captain Spalding' painted faces anywhere! I shouldn't of bottled it myself, I swear he'd of got me up on stage for being a total Boss!

On this showing Manson edged the show, his set was diverse and he was thoroughly engaging as he pranced and contorted his way through his sixty minute slot.

Note: I tried to add videos but blogger wasn't having any of it.

24 November 2012

An angry angry rant...

Fuck all this TOWIE bollucks.
Made in Chelsea? Do one back down South.
Who wants to sit in a juice bar talking hair products and tan lines?
Is that what we have become?
Are our aspirations now that perverted by capitalism that you live for the label?
Are you really only your first impression?

Fuck all that.

Anyone that judges me on first impressions can take a walk.

What happened to personality? To depth of character? Do we dispose these dickholes or idolise them?
Pretending the most important thing in life is image makes shutting out all the dark, nasty shit in this world a hell of a lot easier.

Maybe ignorance is bliss after all?

I would hate to see western society become a slave to the wage, sheparded from one expensive must have to the next...but we are already there, and I worry for future generations.

We need the trendsetters but we need the people that say no. The pioneers that say fuck all that shit and forge their own paths.

To any that will try, even if you fail you have my respect, and the respect of others who are sick of the "store bought" design for life that seems to be steadily becoming the norm.

8 November 2012

Are you made of metal?

Metal and I should not mix.

The soundtrack to my formative years consisted of mainly underground dance music. Pete Tongs weekly 'Essential Selection' became exactly that. The early days of my dj "career" were spent studying his playlists and keeping an ear out for hot up and comers. Underworld, The Orb and Leftfield were the groups I related to musically the most.

If you were to peruse my Ipod playlist these days you'll find the majority of my five star tracks are from artists such as Marilyn Manson, Rage against the Machine and Rob Zombie.

So why the dramatic change in taste?

Dance music represented a future where anything was possible, at least to these ears. A world that embraced technology and forward thinking bringing people together "under one groove". As I got older and saw my hopes and dreams crushed under the Jackboots of bureaucracy and tedium the frantic power-cords and ravaged vocals began to strike more of a tune with me.

Metal is all about telling the man and his bitches to go fuck themselves...and I can certainly relate to that a lot more than I used to.

29 October 2012

"Clattenburg called me a Cracker!"

Firstly, of course he didn't. And if he did it wouldn't really bother me. The way I see it, it doesn't matter what your skin colour or which God you worship, if you are an asshole you are an asshole.

It was only a matter of time before a referee got pulled up and accused of being 'a racist'. We ve had players at it, fans at it, officials of the game were bound to be next on the agenda.

So is Mr Clattenburg a newly ousted racist? Doubtful. The Ignorance displayed en mass by the serbian "fans" at the recent U21 games was a far cry from what the Chelsea players in question may of 'interpreted' the refs comments to mean. On the one hand you have a het up socially ignorant crowd baying for blood, the other a lone man trying to calm and officiate a passionate game of football amongst all kinds of foul language and attempted cheating.

The key word in all of this is 'interpreted'. Once you throw someones perception into the mix and try to apply order to it you are on the road to failure. What offends me for instance may not offend you. In that case what right do I have to claim any sort of damages or recompense? Whats ok for one cannot be ruled as not ok for another in terms of law and order. It either is or it isn't punishable across the board. Interpretation leads to too many grey areas.

In my humble opinion if something offends you, well you can either look at yourself and come to terms with the hows and whys (which takes far more effort than crying Wolf) or do what they did fifteen years or so ago and forget about it and get on with your lives.

The media is blowing this up out of proportion to sell papers and ad space, and we as ever increasingly pussy whipped members of the nanny state lap it up,acting all shocked and appalled whilst tutting over our 'Costa Coffee' and wondering what has become of our national sport.

I fear we lose the right to free speech more and more each day. As a Democracy it is our right as citizens to be able to express our beliefs and opinions freely, the measure of a healthy society is how we express these opinions and how we react to them, not by leaving in fear of them in the first place.

9 October 2012

Punk hits fan!

Its the hottest thing on the net right now.

After an engaging match with Vince punk flees to the crowd (without security). Punk is shoved and elbowed whilst trying to stay in character, he spins to deliver a warning before unleasing an attack on the (supposedly) wrong fan.

The struck fan maintains his innocence and is pressing to sue.

Punks only human but should of known better. He also should of had security with him to keep wannabe tough guys off his case. This is gonna cost both Punk and WWE.

Neither has decided to comment at this time...

7 October 2012

'Best in the World!' - Wrestle-roundup

Yes folks, I've decided to bite the bullet and write an occasional blog on the wonderful world of professional wrestling. Now i'm no expert on the subject, but I do know my Figure Four from my Boston crab. I'll discuss matches and wrestlers past and present and pass you my unifomred opinion on all things ring related along the way.

Seconds out...

First up, 'Hell in a Cell' is approaching fast and judgeing by recent events on 'RAW' I suspect the hierarcy are not sure wether Cena will be fit for his headline match with C M Punk. Cena underwent recent shoulder surgery to remove chipped bone fragmants, and judgeing by the appearances of Ryback in the last few episodes, a change of opponent for Punk may be on the cards. Granted a Ryback/Punk outing doesn't have quite the pull of the original card but a match beats no match.

Speaking of Punk, in my opinion he really has become one of the best mic-men in the business. Sure, 'The Rock' is far more quoteable but the psychology and delivery of Punks weekly vocal sparring matches are second to non. Paul Heyman egging him on only seals the deal!

I can only see Punk retaining the belt regardless of his opponent as his reign as WWE champ has been a resounding success. Whether the 'respect me' angle will remain I'm not so sure about. Where can that go If he does indeed defeat Cena in the cell? It will be interesting to see.


Meanwhile over on Smackdown, the hype for their main event at the next PPV builds albeit at a much steadier pace. Sheamus acting the clown only goes so far before straying into annoyance, and the Big Show s mic work has never really been his strong point. Neither is his ring work either come to think of it. I think in this case though Sheamus will drop the belt, its about time the hulking seven footer held the title for a respectable amount of time after all he has given the business.


Tag-team wise although Kane and Daniel Bryans disfuctional partnership has been pretty funny to watch, its obviously a ploy to ignite some interest in a division that is pretty devoid of real characters at this moment in time. I predict that whoever wins the ongoing Tag tournament will ultimately take the belts from Kane/Bryan who will return to singles competition. I for one will miss their "I'm the tag team champions" arguments.


As for the divas, Intercontinental and US belts, frankly who gives a stuff at this time!

Classic Contenders

'The Million Dollar Man' - Ted Dibiase

A classic heel who believed money could buy you everything, and even bought his own title belt.

22 September 2012

Criticus - Double Dragon Neon

Whilst Samantha Fox or that poster of the female Tennis player scratching her ass were pivotal in developing my long standing affinity for the female form, Double Dragon was actually my first true love.

Set un a unnamed urban sprawl, our quiffed twin brothers punch, kick and hair grab their way through the various henchmen of the 'Black Warrior' gang to rescue their mutual love interest Marian. Setting aside that Marian has no qualms whatsoever about banging twin brothers and is a bit of a skank, this was the 80's baby and this was as good as virtual ass kickery could get.

Fast forward to 2012 and its HD remake Double Dragon Neon and all is not well with out tag team lovers.

Firstly, and most shockingly of all, you no longer get to see that white flash of Marians underwear when she's nabbed in the intro. Back then this was the nearest young Studdley had got to any action and removing this iconic scrne is downright upsetting.

Control wise our brothers have not aged well at all as signs of arthritis abound in our heroes sluggish movement. They have not really learned any new tricks either since the original outing and seem blissfully unaware of this thing called 'the internet' as co op play is local only.

You may argue that it is pretty much a visual update only and you d be right. I was hoping for a little more variety though.

In summary, I have not been this disappointed since 'The Neverending story' ended.


12 September 2012

This is ManTearZ

The names of the following persons have been changed due to ongoing legal issues.

'Did you know that printer toner is highly toxic?' The sound of rapid key taps and the distant telephones occupied the space that a follow question ought to, unconcerned Darren continued. 'Yeah the fumes each printer kicks out are lethal. The closer you are the more you breath in, this place is basically a huge gas chamber. The only reason they are still in use is because its early days and Science does not have enough conclusive proof to get toner banned. That and we’d have nothing to print stuff with…'

More rapid key presses this time accompanied by a few bored sighs. It was Tuesday, not that this day was any more significant than another, for life inside these vanilla walls was an ever repeating cycle of misery and tedium broken up only by the odd uninteresting fact and occasional Coffee spillage. There had to be more to life than Microsoft excel and health and safety emails pondered Darren absently, his daily target already surpassed some two hours ago.
'Don’t you ever want more?' he loudly asked no one in particular.

Gary, who was sat at the desk diagonal to Darren shuffled in his seat excitedly and nudged his glasses further up his nose. 'I always want more but the Mrs says she’s too sore mate'. Another chorus of bored sighs.

'I mean, success, fame, women, the works. Why not some of that for us?'

'Cuz you need a talent…or boobs' offered Joe. 'You my friend have neither'. Gary nodded in agreement, his glasses slipping down his nose again.

Darren turned his gaze back to his screen and its rapidly blinking cursor. He’d know the three blokes he sat with nearly 2 years now. Gary was a father of three, married, mortgaged and harbouring the libido of a teenager on permanent heat. Joe was a more reserved fellow, with a dry wit and a recedeing hairline. He tried hard to be the voice of reason and maturity failing miserably most of the time. Bill had remained silent during this latest meeting of minds, a deeply intelligent man he always took a measured approach to life, at least until you got him into a lap dancing club that is. He often referred to Strippers as “his Kryptonite”.

'Did I ever mention I was in a band?' chirped Joe

'What kind of band?' enquired Darren with a strained look of interest plastered expertly across his face.

'An unsucessful one' laughed Bill.

'Well, we mainly play a downtempo jazz, blues fusion with punky ska elements. And dark-core. The dark-core elements were my idea' Joe proclaimed proudly.

A scornful managers look across the bank of desk silenced Joe abruptly cutting off his impending disection of the dark-core movement. Having seen the disapproving look Darren continued

'Stokes got talent is coming up soon, why don’t we give it a go?'

Gary chewed on his pen thoughtfully.

'Doing what? 'he asked

A contemplative pause as Darren looked each of his colleagues over, the faintest sparks of an ideas flickering into his thought process.

'A boy band!' He proclaimed loudly thumping his fist down onto his desk, jolting his lukewarm coffee out of its paper cup, strike one daily highlight down.

Joes brow furrowed, It was well know amongst his friends that he considered himself something of a musical prodigy, although he only played bass guitar which Bill freqently pointed out had four strings, and could be played competantly by a retarded chimpanzee. 'Name one successful boy band that had genuine talent' he challenged.

'Boys 2 men' replied Gary without breaking stride in his typing.

'Ok, ok..apart from Boys 2 Men obviously' countered Joe annoyingly.

'Talent Joe does not matter in the realm of the boy band. "Take That" couldn’t hold a tune between them, "Westlife" barely had a grasp of the English language yet their pikey esque delivery was enough to melt underwear and sell records by the shedload!. Can't think if a successful Welsh boy band mind...'
Gary jolted himself suddenly upright,

'Underwear? I'm in'

They both turned to Joe, who had a serious look on his face and was tapping his pen fiercely against his teeth 'You are going to need someone with a musical background and an indepth knowledge of the music indust…'

'Failing that you'll do mate' Darren interjected.

Bill leaned back casually, a wry grin on his face 'Of course you are going to need a manager, and as the most senior team member here that’s going to have to be me. If you are serious of course? Oh, and I've got a big van'.

And so from small seeds doth the mighty Oak grow, and what seemed like a throw away idea at the time would take our musical heroes to far reaching places and have an everlasting impact on one of our would be stars...

4 September 2012

Paying the price

Last Summer I wrote a blog entry explaining my thoughts behind leaving a well paid but highly stressful job I was struggling in to work back within my old company. In essence I took the safe option.

Granted, the last 12 months have seen me find my feet and claw my way back to the Dan of old, I have shared quality time with my daughter, who has had the luxury of a stress free, happy daddy. Jen and I married, but at the back of my mind was the feeling that this probably wouldn’t last forever.

Today, I found out in a less than appealing manner that it’s almost certain I will be out of a job after Christmas. I will be leaving many friends behind and will face an uncertain future. Stoke on Trent is not known for its vast amount of Job opportunities, and there are going to be a lot more qualified, hard working folk competing for these few jobs than ever before.

Now I am not shy of a fight, I know I have a lot to offer any potential employer, but what weighs on me the most is the feeling I have let myself, my Wife and most importantly of all my daughter down.

True she is to young to understand, but looking at her I can’t help but feel a failure. I needed to stick out that job, to provide financially for her in order to be a good father.

I don’t know what kind of reaction this blog entry may provoke from you the reader, and I admit I am writing this while feelings are still a little raw, but I always intended my blog to be open and honest if it was not to be an entertaining entry. It’s a form of helping myself to in a sense.

So, did I make the wrong call? Yes, I feel I did. I was far to weak willed to stick it out, and now's the time to pay for that lack of fight. I’d somehow managed to convince myself things would be ok, and that my hard work and previous track record would be enough to atone for my mistake of leaving the company. Unfortunately it was not.

I feel for the rest of the contractors too, they will be losing some very good people and I wish them all the best should the likely happen.

Regarding my situation, I won’t go looking for blame, it lies with me

29 August 2012

The Suit is a lie

What goes through your mind when you see a man in a suit?

Bear with me.

Do you think: 'now theres a respectable chap, smart, clean shaved, drives a hybrid. Sure I'd trust him with my bank account/mortgage/young hot wife'.

Well look closer at the streaky tanned face. Notice those weathered wrinkles cutting rutts deep into the forehead. The over zealous use of product on rapidly thinning hair. Drink in the desperation eeking from those devious black ringed, pits of dispair we call eyes.

Thats what I see when a suit enters my field of vision.

                                                         Each more douschier than the last...

Now my bitterness is not misplaced due to losing my life savings in a pyramid scheme (not in this instance at least) it stems more from the fact that as a society we assume wearing a suit makes an individual somewhat trustworthy,that it carries an air of professionalism and (chortle) implies they know exactly what they are doing! This is of course nonsense.

                               Pictured: The one and only time I will make a political joke. This isn't BBC 2

Put a spotty McDonalds drive thru attendant in a Boss slim fitted suit and suddenly do his pronunciation, service skills and level of personal hygiene drastically improve? Dress a bin man in Calvin Kliens latest power suit and do the streets gleam and your recycling bins smell of new born babies?

Of course not. You still get lukewarm spit drenched Big Macs and bins that reek of a soiled tramp on a summers day.

So don't be taken in by the suit. Like momma always said:

"you can put a turd in a suit, but it'll always be a turd".

22 August 2012

Danny 'Doc' Challinor - Magic Man

Danny has been a friend of the family for a number of years now. Professional, humorous, entertaining, these are all words I would not use to describe 'Docs' store bought interpretation of the school of magic.

Pictured: Dans entire routine.

Of course I kid! The guys close up magic is the stuff of witch-craft, every time I see a new trick of his I'm left scratching my head and reaching for the crucifix.

                                                             Looking sort of like this...

He performed for us at our wedding as a gift, and every single person who had the pleasure of witnessing one of his many tricks ended up seriously impressed and wanted to see more. He made himself constantly available, performed for both impatient children and beered up adults alike. He became a major talking point and will be a fondly remembered part of our day with many of the guests

I know he has put many hours into perfecting his art, if any guy deserves to make it big as a professional magician its Dan, and I'm sure all his dedication and passion for the craft will pay off. He's a genuine, nice funny guy and in my opinion his card abilities are easily on par with a certain magician who has his own TV show on watch.

If Dan ever wants an official fan-club, bagsy club president right here!

Here's a link to his site, he aims to list all his upcoming gigs so you can catch him live or book him for a private function!


17 August 2012

Criticus - The Dark Knight Rises

As a self committed Bat-fan I figure the die hards are the hardest to impress. After the sensational portrayal of @the Joker" by the late Heath Ledger and a masterful set up for the third and final film of Nolans reboot the expectation for the last Bale outing as the Batman was high.

Well, it doesn't disappoint. Dwarfing the previous two movies in terms of scale and grandiose performances Bale plays a more real, sombre gritty Batman than before who relys not on gadgets and sleuthing but in sheer willpower and rage.

Perennial housewives favourite Tom Hardy cuts an imposing figure as Bane, and stands as a more physically imposing villain than we have seen previously (as in the comics), though a change to his mask and an odd voice do detract slightly from what is arguably the most Evil of foes Batman has yet faced on the big screen.

As for Selina Scott, well nolan never refers to her as "the catwoman" (though there are a few not so subtle hints) she was always going to be a tough character to pull off given her complicated relationship with Batman/Bruce Wayne and almost becomes a stereo typical partner and no more than that.

Oldman plays a weary Commissioner struggling to uphold the ideals the city of Gotham seems to of misplaced since the last film. Indeed Gotham is almost another character itself as it is tortured,beaten and bent by Banes insidious will, its citizens lost amongst the carnage looking for a light to follow.

Nolan's trilogy will rank amongst the best ever made. The message set out in the first is carried through to the credits of the last...even in the darkest hour there is hope.

I pity the director who takes up the reins on the next Bat Project as Nolan's vision of an ordinary man driven to extraordinary feats will be nigh on impossible to match.

An excellent film, highly recommended.

12 August 2012

Marriage- One week on...

God bless the British sense if formality, as even though Jen and I have lived together over five years the question we have heard most this week is:

"so hows married life?".

Well, after recovering from an amazing day, life settled quickly back into routine. Toddlers returned to behaving like toddlers with all the stresses they bring. The days until payday began to be steadily counted down and a list of chores as long as your arm suddenly became the focus of attention rather than buttonholes and seating plans.

I always said to people don't get married, its such a hassle but my opinion has changed dramatically. Yes, its a huge pain in the ass to organise and no you cant please everyone...even with four deserts. However as an experience shared as a couple there is nothing to rival it.

One week on, For Jen it means a lot of paperwork. I would describe marriage as like the colour beige. At first its fresh and makes everything feel new, but it soon fades into the background and becomes the comforting canvas onto which you paint the rest of your lives.

4 August 2012

Journal of a pre wed man

The day before:


Awake feeling the warm sticky embrace of a rampant head cold. Throat feels like its full of gravel but may be because bride-to-be was sleep strangling. Again.

Flower girl has been awake on and off since about 2am. Stress levels in the pre marital home are climbing steadily...

No sign of breakfast. Hope this is not a indication of things to come...


Mcdonalds breakfast demolished, truly epic start to the day!

Last minute table plan alterations sent and resent to the venue. Speech notes checked.

Flower girl engrossed in cbeebies.

So far so Disco


Call from suit hire place to remind me the suits need collecting. Inform him I am well aware of this and my father and father in law are on route. This back and fourth continues for several minutes. I hang up doubting my grasp of the English language and my ability to speak out loud.

Flower girl continues her cartoon watching marathon


Steve informs me shirts are not pressed and I misheard the suit geezer. Mild panic sets in as I cannot iron.

Flower girl is playing cars on her mat.


Flower girl has fallen asleep and is snoring loudly.

Bride-to-be has gone for a spray tab.

I'm sat enjoying the quiet.


Sat alone in my hotel room. Pleasant enough but I didn't realise people still watched large box shaped tvs...

The room set up went fairly well. Everyone chipped in and Bethany enjoyed exploring her new playground.

I guess this is the moment of realisation. Nothing speaks louder than the four walls of a lonely hotel room. I already miss the hectic noisy existence that is life with a 2 year old. The next time I see Jenni and my beautiful baby girl they will be walking down the aisle to me.

I am a lucky man to be blessed this way and tomorrow my family becomes officially united.I hope I do not let them or anyone else down tomorrow after all the hard work that has gone into making our marriage a reality.

I'll sign off now a single lad, and see you all soon as a married man.

I love you Jennifer no-middle-name Green x

28 July 2012


Ever heard the phrase "a fish out of water"? After relocating about as far South from battered Mars Bars and hard daytime drinking as humanly possible on this isle of ours, Devon was proving a hard place to call
home for Liza.

Ok the cream teas were n't to hard to live with and there was an abundance of locally produced Cider should her old habits ever return but the pull of the Highlands still tugged at her heartstrings. Sure Devon was Green but it wasn't Scottish Green.

As the months rolled by in an uneventful entirely Devon-like way Liza began to notice this homesickness begin to manifest itself a little deeper.
Fiercely patriotic as seems a pre-requisite with Scots she was well versed with her countries history and tainted with the hatred of the English all kilt-kin have embedded in their genes. So when a certain Hollywood blockbuster focusing on one of her countries most famous sons hit the big screen, Liza found herself first in line.
Since purchasing said epic in blu-ray, Dvd, VHS, mp4 and even the written adaptation on mp3 (read by Sean Connery no less) it could be said she was something of a fan of William Wallace.

Now in the movie, Big Willie (as his fellow soldiers probably never referred to him as) is played by everyones favourite anti-semitic Mel Gibson. He's known to be somewhat of a hit with right wing middle age women everywhere and Liza too was finding herself getting more and more attracted to him, but not in the conventional way. She'd seen Mad Max and decided Leather wasn't his thing. She'd seen Pay back and decided talking in a low whisper for 96 minutes wasn't really his thing either but boy could he work the hell out of kilt!

So, she placed an order with a costume outlet online for a shaggy unkempt ruffian wig (dirty brown), blue/white face paint and a kilt.

When she asked her husband to wear aforementioned attire with the promise he could do anything to her in the bedroom and he declined she was somewhat surprised.

When she went online in search of women who encourage their men to dress up for a bit of nookie she found only the usual emergency service based fans, a few trekkie nerds and one woman who insisted her man dress up as a pantomime horse.

Disappointedly she decided to take matters into her own hands, and when one night her husband returned to find Liza with a blue and white painted face, dirty brown wig, kilt hitched up just over her knees and a seductive smile on her face, citing temporary insanity in her part he fled the house and later filed for divorce.

And so what initially seems a sad story ends well for out Liza. She returned to her native land, shacked up with a burly whisky drinking Loch Ness Tour Guide and had several red haired children. Home is where the heart is, even if it needs to tell you by scaring the living hell out of your middle class insurance salesman husband from Swindon first.

25 July 2012

White men can jump (and rap)

I ve decided my future involves copious amounts of rap. If theres one thing pop music needs its another middle class white boy from the countryside throwing shapes and keeping it "real".

Here for you edification are some if mu future hits (in progress)

I gotta a lotta herb

"so i'm plowing ma field like I work my bitches,
Gatheing crop and adding to ma riches,
I'm most at home cruising in my tractor,
Make sure I sky plus mother fuckin x factor,
I keep it real when i hang with my bro's
Only bling I got is my spades and hoes,
I dont drink crystal, only home made cider,
So makes sure theres plenty on ma bitch ass rider"

Will add more as and when

11 July 2012

X men First Class - Criticus

Faced with the choice of watching this film again or having 100 fire ants nibble at my junk for the 132 minutes running time the fire ants would win outright.

An insult to the marvel universe, Xavier is portrayed as an English dandy, Magneto a silent, stoic psychopath who only shows his intellect in his sudden heel turn at the end. Don' t even get me started on beasts laughable transition from foot freak to crappy fancy-dress attired superhero. He looked like he belonged on a stag weekend in Blackpool rather than the front line of a potential Cold War. Honestly I thought Kelsey Grammar was the final insult but all is forgiven for that one.

X-men First Ass.

Pixeljunk 4am - Criticus

I am blessed with superhuman powers. The real deal. However far from having an innate ability to heal myself, fly or read minds I can save you, the people, hard earned cash. I am able to harness my ultra critical eye, cut through the crap and tell you whats worth your time, be it games, books or film.

First up: PixelJunk 4am

Its friday night and I've just fired up pixeljunks latest offering via the psn store. I ve been playing a mere 5 minutes and I have an audience of 58 already. Suddenly the pressure is on to deliver an audio delight.

Best described as a virtual sequencer, you take pre recorded loops using your move controller and through muting/un muting and use of fx arrange your composition in real time. Oh and anybody worldwide can log on and listen live.

Its not quite a complete music creation kit but for a shade under £7 you cant really complain - but a few more loops would be nice (hopefully via a free update).

Its not a game, but the rush you get when you see your audience count rise and see their positive reactions to you efforts (via real time feedback bars) is hard to beat. It wont make you the next Moby, but it'll make you waggle your move more than most motion inspired efforts.

Buy it.

4 July 2012

Easier in the olden days...

Driving is a lot like having sex. Any fool can go forwards and backwards but it takes hours of practice, tears, tantrums and a patient mentor to get to a standard deemed satisfactory.

So armed with 25 hours tutorage and a stomach full of knots I embarked upon my first driving test.

Fate and I have a somewhat turbulent past. In this day fate decided my examiner would be "Deadly Dean", Newcastles own answer to Gordon Brittas and whom my instructor referred to as "a bit picky" and " not who you want for your first test". Deadly seemed to sniff out my weakest manoeuvre as soon as we settled into the car as we were barely out of the trs centre gates when he requested I kindly pull over and reverse around the corner behind.

I Won't lie, I sort of nailed it, but my frail confidence took a kicking as I had to correct the manoeuvre and received a minor.

The rest of the test should if been plain sailing if wasn't for stupid 30mph roads masquerading as 40mph roads. Who knew that would be an instant fail?

I did.

And so i sit here today, license less and feeling a lesser man. Things could only be worse if I took Viagra as a necessity and not erm...hmmmmm.

20 June 2012

Fifty shades of Clay

                                               Fifty Shades of Clay – by Dan Weatherer


Bernard sat hunched on the brown tan leather sofa; half a cigarette hung from his lips and an empty can of Skol occupied his right hand. A bag of chips sat cooling on the coffee table in front of him; he needed to eat a few more as he was sure he was going to need all of his strength. She would be here in a moment, after all Bentilee was only a short bus ride away.

The silence was broken by a polyphonic rendition of the Tom Jones classic “Delilah”. That must be her he thought gathering himself. Anna-Stayz-ere was at his front door.

“Ay up mate, you Mr P?”

Bernard stood for a moment, she wasn’t exactly the way she had described herself in the online correspondence they had entered into since she replied to his gumtree ad in the personals section. She was wearing a Pauls Boutique T-shirt that struggled to contain her considerable midriff, her hair was pulled back into a tight greasy ponytail and hooped ring pierced the left side of her top lip. Still she had turned up and if she was as willing as she had made out to be it could still be a good night.

“Arr, I am duck, come in, it’s frozen out”.

She took a long swig from the extra-large WKD bottle she was holding and edged past him into the sitting room.

“Sit down love” he motioned to the space on the sofa next to him, “you err…Anna then?”

“Yeah Mr P” she smiled, flirtatiously blowing a bubble with her gum, “but you can call me Sandra”

“Sandra, you fancy a can, I’ve got another four pack in fridge it’s no bother”

“No ta” she took another long gulp from the rapidly emptying bottle.

Bernie leaned in closer to her.

“So err you said in your email that you were, you know, erm…a virgin…”

A spray of blue liquid landed on his face as Sandra burst into laughter.

“Well, once upon a time arr, look does it matter Bern?”

“I suppose not” he nodded towards the door at the end of the room mischievously: “You ready to see the playroom?” he asked noticeably excited.

“The red room of pain? Sure thing” she said following after him.

“Aye, it’s a room full of hurt, its been a rough road over the years but we doing ok these days duck”

He threw the door open theatrically, the walls were adorned with red and white paint running vertically; there were flags in each corner of the room. A white bench took centre place with what looked like a roll of turf lying against the wall beneath the blacked out window.

“I’m just gonna slip into something more comfortable” winked Bernie, “I wunna be long duck” and he closed the door behind him.

Sandra looked around somewhat puzzled. Bernie had stated he was looking for a partner to role play with in his ad, someone adventurous and willing to be submissive. This was unlike any set up she had seen before. She took the flask of vodka from her handbag and took a gulp.

At that moment the door flung open. Bernie stood decked out in a full tracksuit, baseball cap pearched atop of his head.“Come ere love, Bernies gonna show you how good he is in the box, oh and call me Mr Pulis”.


17 June 2012

Weatherer - I'd join Potters

A number of Premier League clubs were hopefully put on alert last night when Fomer F.C. Mankini wide man Dan Weatherer ended his self exposed exile from the beautiful game.

In a tweet to his mum he announced his intentions for the coming season:

"yeah I'm feeling good. I ve been watching a lot of the Euros and feel I ve still got plenty to offer. If Martin Kelly can get himself in the national side then why not come back? And I've got my own boots!"

With a record boasting no goals, no assists and a list of injuries as long as your arm recorded during F.C. Mankini's first and only ill fated season we caught up with Dan Weatherer at the Stoke City training complex where he was busy doing keep-uppys and passing out C.V's:

"Well obviously its been a few years since I last played competitively but I've looked after myself and feel fitter than ever"

"With Jermaines inconsistent form and off field antics I think I can offer Stoke an alternative down the right. I mean My mum doesn't like me going nightclubbing and I can't drive so, you know... No headline makers there!"

Stoke boss Pulis was unavailable for comment.

1 June 2012

Boldy going where no man has gone before...

If a man (or woman) had sex with an alien, would it be considered cheating?

Never let it be said I don't tackle the big questions head on.

My fiance says it would but I disagree.

Firstly, being very much alien means not of this world, or more importantly not of this species. My argument is that shagging an alien would be much like shagging a camel. Neither of you are the same species, neither of you are looking for commitment or have any emotion invested in the act and neither of you are going to get laid again anytime soon after this sorry affair.

Which brings me onto this next point. There is no guarantee the aliens in question have any form of capacity for emotion. Without that there is no love, hate anger or lust. The act of pro-creation, to them may be about as relevant as a handshake or a friendly pat on the shoulder is to us.

There is also no guarantee that when the space faring  nymphosfinally  introduce themselves, that they have any physical means of getting down and dirty with us human folk.

However let it be known that I intend to be the first man to have sex with an alien.

Its not cheating, hell I'd be doing my part for intergalatic relations. I'd be sort of ambassador stud and no doubt hero to net nerds everywhere!

Kirk would be proud.

27 May 2012

Communal Heart bypass

My grans old house was situated slat bang in the centre of Uttoxeter. If you left the property from the back and walked down to the bottom of the garage access road on your left lay a cattle grid and one of the entrances to the cattle market.

Crossing the grid and ignoring the warnings about getting your leg trapped and therefore amputated (thanks for that Dad) you were transported into a living, breathing piece of history. A dusty stone based car park gave way to a series of cattle holds, sheep on your right, cows and bulls further down on your left past the auction house from which a constant babble of rapid incoherences contiunally streamed through a tinny PA system. I heard one time a bull had escaped and ran amok, so a walk through the cattle market to shop at Woolworths (another dynasty gone) was met with some trepidation. Just in case it happened again I had my own escape plan which involved climbing on one of the fences and hanging on for dear life.

There was a small pub that only opened on market days sat just behind the sheep pens, we went in once. It was full of sullen, rosey cheeked green wellington wearing folk and a heady mix of Sunday Dinner, wax jackets and manure hung in air. A fragrance I can still seemingly recall at will, and a fragrance that strangely I miss.

There were a few other buildings, a small bargain type shop and a food outlet perhaps, I forget.

Its a housing estate now, little if any evidence remains as to its former standing in the town. I was speaking to a relative recently and he remarked at what a shell of a town Uttoxeter had become. At first I did not think it a fair assessment, plenty of new builds, a retail park comprising all the big outlet chains, modern cinema and bowling facilities same as any other middling to large town.

Same as any other.

And he was right. The cattle market may not of been progressive, or a desirable asset to consider moving into a town for, but it was the heart of the town, and the heart of the local farming community. Sure at the time my naivity led me to believe the farmers were buying and selling cattle to each other as a kind of Swap meet, and the grim truth was best left hidden from my young mind. Sure those surely portly types never uttered a word to us town folk passing through, or even to each other but that sun baked manure drenched Saturday afternoon was a part of English Culture that has sadly faded into memory. I for one miss those days, childishly thinking they would be around forever, and am glad to hear I am not alone.

19 May 2012

Wedding jitters

Its May 19th, our Wedding date is August 5th and the nerves are setting in rather early if you ask me.

I ve had a turbulent build up in that I have experienced the full range of human emotions leading up to the big day. It started with denial, then there was fear. Following that was reluctant acceptance, a little more fear and then finally joy as I begin looking forward to it...in a butt clenching kind if way.

Now its not that I don't love my fiancé, shes the world and more to me, its just that being the centre if attention isn't really something I enjoy. I hope that the supporting cast will play its part and help us both to enjoy the day to its fullest.

The organisation of the day has been mostly undertaken by Jenni, for this I am truly grateful as I know my feeble brain would implode trying to undertake the task.

So, here I am, x amount of days till the event and the dreams of me being late, caught up in car crashes and other delights my subconscious has cooked up for me has begun. Yes its down to nerves, but I know I will be there by her side on the day come hell or high-water. Or crap drivers.


10 May 2012

Weatherers theory of shagabilty

L= {p x a}Fb

answer on a scale of 1 - 1000 the higher the figure The more certain the lay!

Percentage of lay equals (L) amount of time spent in close proximity (p) multiplied by amount of alcohol consumed (a) multiplied by amount of men hating status' posted on facebook in the week prior (Fb).

DISCLAIMER: not guaranteed to get results 100% of the time.

Redundant on men and alcoholics.

11 April 2012

A quote for my gravestone

"to offend is to speak freely. One cannot exist without the other".

Dan Weatherer 11th April 2012

9 April 2012

A quick thankyou!

Thanks to all readers of my blog, I have just been studying the stats for the last week and Studdley is going well and truly global!

Thank you all for your continued support and please keep passing and sharing my links!

Much love


2 April 2012

Ruffling feathers 24/7

People that know me think I'm odd. Not in the dressing like your mum whilst doing the weekly shop odd, just a little puzzleing.

You see I seem to have a severe dislike of what the majority find popular, be it film, TV, video games and to a lesser extent now music.

At first I put this down to my Dj heritage. Back then I strived hard to remain hip and underground. The moment "Tocas Miracle" was 'gifted' a vocal was the moment my vinyl 12" went through the window to join the great commercial pap cemetery behind our house.

This worrying trend however has continued well after I hung up my headphones for good.

Allow me to give you a few examples to illustrate my worries:

Take "Star Wars" for instance, the beloved Sci-Fi soap opera of many a generation. Described as epic, innovative and imaginary and held dear to the heart of many nerdy types the world over. To me its a shallow, appallingly scripted, laughably acted stereotypically filled ego wankfest for George Lucas to rehash and resell to the tune of millions of dollars. Skywalker is the wettest hero to ever wave a torch around whilst westing a dressing gown. Every nerd worth his weight in braces awaited the conclusion to the complex fall of its uber villain into the dark side, and how does Senior Lucas mark this profound moment of cinematic history when all is lost and evil taketh his soul once and for all?



What about "Avatar"? The greatest movie ever made? Nope, its "danced with Wolves" with blue Indians and added tree hugging.

"Lord of the Rings"? Has its head so far ip its own ass it can t see the plot for the gay hobbits. I ve never been so bored and I was a Stoke City season ticket holder...

Unfortunately this extends even further into my love of video games. I find "Mario" games a repetitive exercise in anger management, "The Legend of Zelda Ocarina of Time" beyond uninteresting and "Half life" a half baked, half plotted waste of hard drive. A hero named "Gordon Freeman"? Why not go the whole hog and do a Lucas calling him "Max Annihilation". Or something.

You see now I fear this is in my DNA, and that its part of who I am. I was never popular at school, college or Saint Johns Ambulance (I know, shocking but its true) so maybe My disdain for anything popular is based on my jealousy of not being en vogue myself. Maybe if I can accept that being seen as popular isn't a reason to immediately point out all the story inconsistencies, plot holes and general triteness of it all.

Nah, its shit. Definitely shit.

27 March 2012

Part 2 - These things that I have done...

In my younger and more formative years I was not so much the straight edged and honourable type that I am today. For sometimes the Devil would perch upon my shoulder and his tantalising suggestions would to some degree sometimes be acted upon.

My latest plea for absolution concerns a young devout Catholic girl I knew a number of years ago ( the males reading this may have an idea of where this story is going already). No names will be used in this confession.

I had seen her around the office numerous times, she was well spoken, polite and highly thought of by her colleagues. She also came from a strict religious background which taught from the book of "no shenanigans" before marriage.

My interest immediately heightened.

After finding out her name and her very much single status I began to pursue her in the hope of well, lets just say abandoning her celibacy for days and nights of untold carnal passion. Oh, and I was to inform my friends daily of any progress as they believed this flower of virtue would resist all my efforts and remain pure and untainted.

Without revealing my tried and tested courtship techniques, we were heading in the general direction if forbidden lust, she knew, i knew it and all my workmates knew it (once again I must state how deeply I regret this behaviour). At times I was painfully close, yet she would always retreat behind a smile and drive off into the night still on heavens guest list.

Then one night, she turned up on
My doorstep in tears, like some kind of under-sexed shark I saw this was my chance. The lights got dipped, soft music played and cheap wine flowed. We talked, she cried, I cried (probably) as I talked her into getting back with her ex. She promptly did andThey were very happy.

Me, well i had failed in my venture, and to be honest I think I did the right thing in the end.

However my initial efforts to defile her based on the fact she was pretty much unattainable is where my present guilt is based.

For this I ask forgiveness...

22 March 2012

Studley Buffout - the one man band of blogging: These things that I have done (but wish I hadn't)

Studley Buffout - the one man band of blogging: These things that I have done (but wish I hadn't): This will be a semi regular column that gets updated whenever a pang of guilt tugs at my conscience. Maybe its a cheap way if gaining some k...

These things that I have done (but wish I hadn't)

This will be a semi regular column that gets updated whenever a pang of guilt tugs at my conscience. Maybe its a cheap way if gaining some kind of absolution, maybe its to make you all feel a little better about yourselves and get a laugh or two at my expense. Anyway, here goes...

Lord of the land or patronising cave man?

It was a couple of winters ago, a real cold snap had taken hold of the area and the weekly shop was the last thing I wanted to leave the warmth of my house for. So, like a real winner I ordered it online to be delivered to the doorstep at my convenience

It had snowed hard the day before and plummeting temperatures that night had turned the outdoors into an ice rink. Of course I had no need to fear, I wasn't about to set foot outside anytime soon!

The delivery van pulled up and I opened the door expectantly only to see a small figure wrapped in thick company provided outdoorwear struggling up the driveway with a crate full of beer and pickled onions (never let it be said i dont know how to live!)

After what seemed like an eternity watching him slip and slide his way towards my door I stepped back making way for the obviously heavy crate to be placed at my feet.

"cheers mate" I offered in a half assed way of showing appreciation.

Looking up from the delivery I was horrified to see a young girl, probably fresh out of college looking at me with a polite but ultimately blank smile. Yes, shes thinking 'what a dickhead'

Before i can muster an apology she turns and trudges back to the van to collect the rest of my order. Now not only have a commited a social faux par
by assuming she was indeed a he, do i now go and offer help and appear a sexist pig also because surely in this day and age a woman cannot do a mans job? Or do i stand idol-like and watch her struggle and trip her way through the delivery in the vain attempt to restore some kind of dignity to the proceedings, but feel like an asshole for not offering to help?

What would you do?

Yep, I stood there like sn inconsiderate prick and left her to struggle on alone.

For this I ask forgiveness.

20 February 2012

Lord of the Fanboys

Fan boy (Fan-boi) - displaying of unwavering belief that a product/brand/team/space captain is superior to all other identical product/brand/team/space captain. Beyond fanatical, a fan boy backs up said claims with nonsensical mutterings, personal insults and generally poor hygiene.

                         Fan boys like to be pictured representing their particular cause no matter how distasteful

PC or mac? Oasis or Blur? Kirk or Picard? If you answered any of those questions with an elevated pulse rate, a cold clammy sweat or an erection you my friend are a fan boy. (fan girls do not exist, to argue one is better than a comparative similar requires a small amount of testosterone and a large amount of social inadequacy).

Take for example the Star Trek/Star Wars divide. Both are science fiction franchises, both set in space, feature a fleet of spaceships and crappy alien outfits bought from JTF. Some prefer Star Wars, some others Star Trek, whilst most normal folk see them for the poorly plotted, appallingly scripted plagiarising merchandise flogging cinema excrement they really are.

       Pictured - An entirely well tought out and highly developed charcater that is in no way a Jamican racial stereotype

Fan boys however tool up with the small differences between each and wage war on forums worldwide. Star Wars has light sabres squeaks HandSOLO69, Star Trek has Teleporters counters Scottie2bridge. What about Ewoks pipes LeiaLoVeR? We ve got Klingons and Mr Fuckin Spock is KirksB!TCH's  retort. And on and on it rages. Forums are no place for the causal fan. Every member reckons he's the biggest swinging dick in town with nary a scene missed or a continuity error not researched and readied to counter. Clearly an excellent use of free time all round.


Scoff as we may at these malnourished loners, great power lies within. For when they gather in great numbers insignificant events can indeed occur.

Remember the "Wispa", a chocolate bar compromised 50% ingredients 50% fresh air and a full rrp of 60p thank you very much Cadburys! It was the bar nobody missed and fan power brought it kicking and screaming back to the shelves.

Square Enix were so tired of getting envelopes full of jizzy tissues addressed to Cloud Strife at their offices they went and made a movie about Final Fantasy 7. The mere mention of a possible next gen remake of the PlayStation One classic is enough to make some grown men sob tears of joy and tops most fan boys (wet) dream list.

Fitter. Apparantly.

Oh, and dont think music is too cool to be a target for fanboyism. Ageing broke rockers Marillion asked Internet headbangers to fly them to The US for a few gigs, and fund the next couple of albums. The result? Fan boys everywhere sifting through their Rush wallets ignoring that out of date condom they picked up at biology class one summer, and throwing used banknotes at their monitor screens.
                  Please take all of my money, I dont need it to take girls out, buy deodourant or anything like that!

So while fanboyism can become something of a license to print money, there is a more serious side to this modern affliction. I like many others no less, lost a friend to the 360/PS3 wars recently. We'd been comrades for nigh on five years, but after one too many HD-DVD jokes he removed me from his face book friends list.
                                                The floating head is Wozzer, I miss you man...

As in any war, casualties are inevitable. The lack of informed opinion and a slow to middling social life are a breeding ground for fanboyism. Though there may not be any one true answer, in the end are we not all striving towards the same goal? To live good honest lives? Treat others how we would expect to be treated ourselves? Own an iphone 4S as it clearly beats the snot outta Android all day long smart phone wannabe losers!

12 February 2012

Its a game of many halves...

Whilst taking a break from the heady world of final billing the other day, a friend of mine asked why i was pondering over my iPhone with such a serious expression upon my face.

"Football manager 2012" i mumbled without glancing up.

"oh" he replied, himself a seasoned gamer, "never really got into those types of games, they bore me".

Coming from a man who's all time gaming hero is Dizzy the rolling egg, this got me thinking. Why do many of us pour hours of our precious spare time into nothing more than a prettier version of excel loaded with football related stats? Why when Kenwyne jones netted a 92nd winner against Blackburn on that same work break did I practically jump out if my seat and do a lap of honour around the office?

Its true that look wise, football management sims are a bit of a booter. They aren't programmed to compete with big budget games such as Call of Duty and there army of copycat clones. No the draw is the "what ifs" the game presents.

What if Sidibe really is a goal machine and Pulis never gave him a chance? Would i give him a starting role?

What if Tevez was homesick and misunderstood and was sorry for refusing to play, would i play him again?

What if Suarez wasn't really a racist tosser, would I fine him and get rid asap? You damn right!

Giving joe average the chance to go from the stands to the dugout, playing with real up to date teams in real fixtures and making the decisions you think the real club managers should of, thats where the draw is.

The power of imagination fills any graphical shortfalls, reading the commentary I can picture every pin point pass, every crunching tackle, every Sidibe miss kick. Some liken it to listening to a game on the radio.

So the presentation may be workmanlike, the gameplay consisting of the occasional mouse click but I guarantee you will never get as involved and feel as rewarded in any other genre of video game, after all what beats stuffing the filth in their own ground with a team you built with free transfers and mis fit players!

19 January 2012

SOPA - beginning of the splinternet?

I don't contribute to wikipedia. I don't write FAQs and i don't post footage of my unrivalled gaming prowess on YOUTUBE, but god help you if you take away my right to do all of the above dammit.

SOPA could potentially put an end to all of that. Want to write a scene by scene analysis of Jim Careys latest ill advised foray into meaningful acting? You d better get expressed written consent from James himself or face a potential lawsuit and the site you posted it on removed from the internet. Yep, If SOPA gets the a-ok from congress then yes, it will seriously dent the piracy practices that have plagued the internet, but it will seriously infringe on the basic rights regarding freedom of speech and expression of opinions online.

Oh, and piracy existed way before the internet beeped its way into existance (knock off VHS tapes from Wass' market anyone?) so the only thing its gonna lead to is a fractured, censored internet for the masses, all in the name of a few quid for hollywood types.

Say no to SOPA!

15 January 2012

How to survive impending doom

It’s a tough world out there and it’s only going to get tougher in 2012 if the Mayans are proved correct (the civilisation, not the biker gang from TV’s fictional and not at all in any way gay biker soap Sons of Anarchy). Forget Y2K and the threat of late 90’s P.C’s launching IBM's  for kicks the world is definitely going to go to hell in a handcart sometime in the next 12 months. So pack your moisturiser  and facial scrub in your man bag and break out the nun chucks, fleshless mutant zombie bitches from hell don’t care if you lotion twice daily.

How to survive the Apocalypse:

Lesson 1 – Buy an Armageddon proof hangout
Lets face it, most of you reading this have no discernible talent or have offered much in the way of forwarding mankind and are therefore probably pretty skint. This lesson is not for you. If however you have led a successful and productive life, or are considered a celebrity deemed significant enough to contribute to the rebuilding of society  you may wish to consider your own nuke proof crib.

                                 Pictured:  Example of a celebrity not deemed significant in any way shape or form

 For a mere $50,000 US dollars you could book your own slot and live in relative luxury as the Four Horsemen lay waste to all and sundry on the surface above.

Sure most of humanity will be dying a slow agonising death from radiation poisoning/alien enslaving or Swine Flu, but there’ll be at least three feet of solid steel between you and them to muffle their anguished cries for help.

Lesson 2 – Join a club

Lets say you survived "the event" by courageously hiding in your nans old Creda fridge freezer a'la Indiana Jones (thanks Lucas for taking a childhood hero and filming him wading through horseshit for 120 minutes and releasing it onto an expectant audience) so what next?

            What every kid wants for Christmas, an action figure of a weary old Hollywood icon hiding in your larder...

From Mad Max to Fallout popular culture has already decided that bandits will run riot across the countryside stealing bottles of water, murdering good farmer types and do nutting wildly whenever the terrain permits.

               As you can see this guy has already put in a few bucks to get his bandit look sorted ready for the big day
There are a few drawbacks to joining your local branch of bandits aside from the bound to be hilariously embarrassing and not to mention pain full and potentially scaring initiation. Leather attire and copious amounts of studs are this nuclear winters must have. Nothing says I can lead humanity to a safer, enlightened future than a gimp mask adorned with metal spikes

Then there's the high mortality rate as bandit members are prone to becoming bullet magnets for any Dudley do gooders out there who wish to protect the local women from your clans somewhat forward advances. If you are still interested theres always the off chance that a fallen siren from before the shit hit happens to be your local branch's senior rep.

                                                                                   Sign me up!

Lesson 3 – Stand your ground
So prancing around in leather with Tina Turner calling the shot isn't your thing and you wish to go it alone, well you better learn to how to man up! If its not the S&M bandit gangs trying to flay you alive, or the totalitarian and extremely brutal fascist authority kicking sand in your face, the mutants are bound to get you.

                                                          Oh my god it's a mutant David Gest!...oh...wait...

So as legendary hard man Billy Ocean once said "When the going get tough, the tough get going" (incidentally that's my current ring tone, just a side note...) and this guys got you covered for all you confrontational needs.

                             Not sure how many bars will be left standing after the Apocalypse but here it is (just in case)

Lesson 4 – Run bitch run!

If you are more a "put down that rusty chainsaw and lets sit down and talk this out" kind of guy, this approach may increase your odds of survival a tad.

    The infants laughter only confirms the respect that using the technique described above will earn you if put into practice
If in doubt make like a tree and "leaf". (I had to put one pun related joke in this article, all bases covered then but even so...sorry).

Lesson 5 – Don’t be afraid to try new things
I won't dress this up people, food is gonna be short come doomsday. There's a limited shelf life even for Pot Noodles. Theres gonna come a time when all that's left to eat are the following items:

                                                                        They say its meat in a can(?)


       Admittedly harsh but they cant fight, they sure as hell cant run so what you gonna do? (ever see a fat guy in the Book of Eli or Borderlands?)

I know it seems harsh now, but when all the KFC and Wimpy are gone, where else are you gonna get your meat fix? Survival of the fittest people, these are the kind of thing you need to overcome in order to...

Lesson 6 - Repopulate
Its not all doom and gloom post Armageddon, sure most of humanity are either dead, undead, rampaging across the countryside clad in leather or have been eaten by yourself, but we were put on this rock to do one thing and one thing only - get it on with the ladies. (or men, but for the purpose of this lesson we'll stick to women).
In order to build a better future you need to get your weapon out and start meeting hot lady survivors. Then get down n jiggy. In this brave new world you are free to sow your seed, so sow until your seed is spent, then sow some more anyhow, you'll be a hero, and you'll be getting way more sex with random women than you ever did before when you worked you 7-3 shift at Subway.

                                                                      Unless of course you are this guy.