Remind Me Again How This Makes Things Better?

As is normally the case I've been pondering this old blog of mine, and cursing myself

for not being more creative and consistent in the updates I make.
I beat myself up, with good ideas flashing through my head - "more about City", "how crazy was that news report", "I really must record more of what my boys do and say" - and then when it comes to putting fingers to keys (or whatever the new fangled way of saying "pen to paper"), I never seem to get round to it.
I would normally blame Spider Solitaire or Angry Birds on Facebook.
Well I finally have sat down to do something, logged into "Blogger" and am imediately hit by one of my (many) pet hates.
It's all changed.
Under the banner "we've made some improvements" it's asking for my mobile phone number. How this will help the blog I don't know, but apparently it'll help with how secure everything is in my life. It was under a sub heading "What would happen if you lost your G-mail account?"
I'm presuming the point was,m that I should feel that some kind of armageddon based end of life as I know it would come about, with my wife leaving me, the car exploding (again) and my children finally driving me around the bend before they run off to a) take over the world or b)Join the circus (or possibly both).
I thought about these dire circumstances, and pushed myself hard to face up to the question as to what I would actually do if I lost my G-mail account.
Gee. I guess I'd sign up for another one. Having never used said account, I think I may be just abouyt able to cope with a Russian Mafia syndicate, a Somalian band of pirates, or even worse, someone from Google pretending to be me.
In fact I don't normally pretend to be me. As a rule I pretend to be "Paul Handford". Now I know this blog goes under the name of Phil Handford, but those who know me intimately (i.e. everyone except the in-laws) knows my real name is Paul.
But when I pretend to be Paul Handford, I've found a far more exciting front. This is Paul Handford the Associate Professor, Ecology & Evolution Group, Biology Department, of the University of Western Ontario.
Boom.
Not exactly Batman to Bruce wayne, but pretty cool I'm sure you'd agree. There's even pictures of birds on his home page, and his hobbies listed as Morris Dancing.
The clincher is that he really could be me in 15 years. Okay 5 years.If you don't believe me go here - Paul Handford's Home Page
Anyway, time to sign off and go play Angry Birds, I promise to be back soon before everything changes and my life has been taken over by the moonies stealing my internet connection...

A yearly Update

Oh my! My life is rushing away! - Inspired my a good friend and his good (if sometimes misguided!) blog on being a Man Utd Fan, I thought it was time for my yearly update... only to find its 2010 when I last updated.
Oh the shame... the shame...

I'm just a Fan of the Invisible Man...

Well, I feel I should be far more upset than I am. Maybe I'm getting old, who knows(!); maybe I'm just softening a little.
Another day at the soap opera that is my beloved Manchester City, and another soap opera like saga to keep us on the edge of our seats!
We went into the match on the back of the new that our inspirational skipper(!) had withdrawn his transfer request and agreed that he really did want to stay after all. Add to this the fact that if we win tonight we leap frog United and Arsenal to the top spot. The first time we've been top at Christmas since 1929 or something.
Who are we playing? Everton. A team that haven't won in 7 games. Easy really.
But this is City, and we're 2-0 down after 15 minutes. As ever we're seemingly playing the 11 men of Everton plus the referee. Even after they have a man sent off on the hour mark we cannot get the goals we need and it finishes 2-1 to the visitors.
I'm disappointed, and a little annoyed (at the two comical goals we gave away as much as the referee!) but having had 60% of the posses ion, and 25 shots on goal (to Evertons 3) I'm not sure what more we could have done against a side as well organised as Everton.
It was something Adam said along side me that calmed me down and now in hindsight is my overriding feeling of the night.
"It's just like the old days at Maine Road this..."
Basically, that would mean city being a bit crap, but really giving it there all. Us all hoping we're going to win the league but knowing really, for now, we're not quite ready. It was enjoying a good game of football.
It's something I am prone to saying, although something I often forget.
It's only a game.
Don't get me wrong, after my wife and two beautiful sons, Manchester City are the most important aspect of my life (some would say on a par with my family...) but that doesn't, and shouldn't detract from the statement, "It's only a game".
If we could go out, buy the best players, give them the most money teach them the best way to play, and instantly win everything it would be good but...I think I'd miss the journey.
Don't get me wrong, that's where I want to be, but I want to get there slowly, and enjoy the journey. I want nights like tonight when you feel deflated, but there's always next Saturday, always the next game.
I've gone from the old first division to the second, back again, down to the 3rd tier and now to the brink of the champions league, sometimes its worth stopping, pinching yourself and reminding myself with some disbelief that "We are not really here..."
Bring on the next game!
(And to add insult to injury I got pulled over by the Police on the way home!)

I think the Gypsy Curse has followed us...

It really is true that every silver lining has a cloud and never is that more true than with my beloved Manchester City.

We win convincingly away from home for the fifth time this season. The team is beginning to gel. We manage three goals without our top scorer who is suspended. We go joint top of the table on points with Arsenal - above United for the first time I can remember...

And then the same Talismanic top scorer (who I should probably mention is also the captain - announces he wants to leave!

The club says no, and calls him greedy, and led by his agent - He throws his toys well and truly out the pram saying he has fallen out with someone and in no way can he play again for the club.

He then points out that the fans are great, the manager is great, the owner is great... so who exactly has he fallen out with?

The mind boggles, and I'm afraid I have very little sympathy for the man who last week said he definitely wanted to stay...

The deed is done...

Well the deed has finally been done - a little earlier than planned - but Wilf, my son, has finally at the age of four years 10 months, entered the world of joy and happiness and pain and misery.
On this September day he has been partially detached from his mothers bosom and truly joined the roller coaster, which should run for a lifetime - which my Father passed to me.
Wilf today, went to his first football match.
Obviously not just any football match (Beth had some odd idea to take him to watch a small match first) a match at Eastlands watching the greatest team in the land and all the world (as the song goes) Manchester City.
For the record, it was against Blackburn Rovers, and ended in a somewhat disappointing 1-1 draw, but that is the least of this story and something to which Wilf is completely ignorant.
As mentioned above, it was all a little earlier than planned - I cannot remember the first game I went to, and wanted to be something my two boys could cherish and tell their children in years to come - but there was a spare ticket going, and I just thought , what the heck.
I put it to Beth, who was not impressed. It came off the back of a discussion I'd had with Wilf , about him liking United, which had ended with me telling him he could live in the garden if that was the case, and I'd just thought, lets strike whilst the iron is hot, and give him a day to never be forgotten.
Beth was very unsure and the debate waged to and fro as we tried to complete the weekly shop. In the end we asked Wilf.
"Do you want to come to the football to watch City?"
"Yes"
"Why?"
"Because Dad says I've got to go."
Not really the answer I was looking for, and gave the impression I had been applying undue pressure on the boy...
It was finally agreed he would come (After I had called a friend who was also taking his son for the first time that day) and amidst some tears from his Mum (who had seen him go to full time school for the first time earlier in the week) he was prepared for the match.
Maybe I should have taken over at this point as he ended up looking like he was going on a trip up Everest.
He had a warm jacket on under his waterproof coat (and over his City shirt), he had a large rucksack packed with, well almost everything.
Two drinks, crisps, a chocolate biscuit, a cup of sweets, a book to read, a notepad and pen,tissues, a full change of clothes, an apple, raisins, plasters, calpol, a sleeping bag, small cooking stove...
Okay the last two weren't, but you get the idea. a bag that only a mum could pack.
We set off, agreed to meet Grandad and Grandma Shona at half time, picked up Liz and Adam, and made our way to Eastlands.
He started on his sweets in the car and was clearly excited at the prospect of his big day out. More sweets and a burger outside the stadium, and we joined the queue and entered, forcing our way through the hordes inside and got to our seats. I introduced Wilf to the regulars around our seats (who were warned about their swearing) and before we knew it the teams were out.
Wilf loved it.
He cheered, clapped and booed in all the right places, his little face glowing as he stood on his seat to see his future heroes.
16 minutes on the clock.
"Dad, can we go home now?"
He then finished his sweets, ate his crisps, looked at the Moonchester comic, had Liz read his Transformers book to him, and did some drawing.
By half time, he didn't feel well, and wanted a poo.
We went to meet Granddad and Grandma and was a bit clingy, clearly tired. I told him there wasn't long left, he sighed and followed me back to our seats.
He did me so proud during the second half, during a lull in the crowd noise, amidst some disquiet from the fans he started shouting out to any that would listen around us.
"Come on City, Come on City - Keep on Trying!"
It was such a mummy's boys kind of line, those around us smiled, laughed, and started shouting again for City to pull their collective fingers out.
Even the chap behind changed his normal rantings as he caught Wilf's eye,
"Referee you're an absolute fu - fu -f - idiot!"
The game ended, and we left (Wilf oblivious to the score or what we had really been dong for the past couple of hours)
The rain came down as we trudged back to the car. We all got soaked to the skin, and Wilf splashed in puddles all the way. I think this is the main thing he will remember from this day.
We got to the car, and he got in (without the carefully packed change of clothes in his bag) wet and happy.
Fast asleep before we were out of the city centre.
One very happy little boy and very proud dad, who will remember the day for far longer than his son.
(Please note, when I have wiped the tear from my eye, I will return to my normal moaning self in my next blog!)

A day has passed...

Well a day has passed since City failed to get the fourth champions league spot and my original disappointment is turning to annoyance, and maybe even a certain calmness, in the fact that it is probably going to be City's best ever Premiership finish, and probably the highest finish I can remember in the top division.

The annoyance is aimed pretty squarely at the media and their coverage of the game, and the general back slapping to Tottenham and Redknapp in particular.

I will laugh so hard the day he is taken down for being the devious, conniving, back hander taking, swindling git that he is.

His knocking up of players is a disgrace, his holier than though view on his own team is annoying, his hysterical ranting at others is despicable, and his dodgy dealings make Terry Venables look like a saint!

There is a reason Portsmouth went into administration, and it isn't Peter Storey!

But all of this has been forgotten by the press today. Add to this their playing of the "Money bags City" being pipped at the post by poor lowly Spurs with their English players and wonderful team spirit?

... So Spurs haven't spent anything on players? I seem to remember them being just a few million short on city in the last couple of transfer windows?

Also, City may have foreign owners, but to imply that City just have expensive foreign imports? - tell that to Wayne Bridge, Gareth Barry or Michah Richards, Shaun Wright Phillips, Nedum Onuoha or Adam Johnson.

I hope a year in the Europa will do us good. I hope we don't go mad and try and buy another new team. Just one or two new faces and lets see what we can win next year.

Not "aim for 4th" but actually win.

Let Spurs struggle with the extra games - I want to see some silverware!

Chin Up.

Gutted..Absolutely Gutted

Oh Well, I am so gutted about tonights resilt in so many ways...

role on next season....

Doesn't time fly...

...when you should be updating your blog on a regular basis? I know I've said this before, but I really am quite poor at this, and I do have every intention of updating this thing once if not a couple of times a week.

I think the single biggest problem in my desire to be the most cutting, witty, informative social columnist/blogger in the known world, is the fact that I seem to be surrounded by those far better at it than me!

As mentioned previously, when I want to be all anti media and knocking the daily Mail outrage brigade, there's Charlie Brooker doing it far better than me!

If I want to be all funny and satirical there's "The Daily mash", for all things nerdy there's "Topless Robot"

When I want to talk about my beloved Manchester City there's a particularly good blog I read - "The Lonesome Death of Roy Carroll"

I suppose the one area not fully covered yet (or that I've managed to stumble across yet) is a good blog knocking all things Man U****d.

I know they are pretty good at doing it themselves, but the recent Green and Yellow scarf "protest" at their owners is making me chuckle even more than normal. That along with their current and past players lining up to point out how they would never play for City no matter how much money we were to throw at them.

I think it's also worth pointing out , Mr Neville and Mr Beckham... errrmm we don't want to sign you, and by the mere fact that you both work for the minimum wage and live in housing association flats proves that you are not in it for the money.

Oh no, that's right you've spent the bulk of your careers playing for the richest clubs in the world! - I guess they must pay you peanuts. (okay, maybe they do in Neville's case...)

I was drawn to the following comments on the Mail on Sunday website within a column by Piers Morgan -

"Beckham’s been a treacherous, money-grabbing, club-hopping, fame-hungry, egotistical little weasel"

I would like to point out how disgraceful the above comment is and totally out of order, to the point of being completely offensive...to weasels, never mind the fact of Piers Morgan calling someone else a weasel!

Everything else seems okay though.

The above comment was in response to "Becks" wearing a Green and Yellow (sorry Gold) scarf at the end of the recent U****d, Milan match.

As touched on above the whole "protest" movement at Old Trafford is really quite comical, and if they really want to look at football clubs pulling themselves apart they couldn't do much worse than looking at their richer neighbours throughout the Swales era.

Anyway, the merits or otherwise of their protest will be far better documented elsewhere, but they only real point I want to raise, is the general stupidity of the fans.

These Green and Yellow(sorry Gold) scarves are being given away free? I don't think so. Other than some sweatshop knocking them out and Salford scallies selling them on, it would only be funnier if it was actually the Glaziers producing them. (At least City's original batch of Blue and white scarves were a Free gift of Frank Shinawatra - okay the fact he's an international fugitive maybe waters this point down...)

I actually saw someone (presumably on their way to OT for the game the other night) wearing a green and yellow (sorry gold) Hat, scarf, shirt (and presumably socks). Yes, he looked like a jester.

The Glaziers being consummate business men, I imagine U****d's away kit next year will be... Green and Yellow(sorry Gold) and they'll all be queuing up at the megastore to buy it!

The Green and Yellow (sorry.. this is getting tedious isn't it?) protest is in part in support of the Red Knights consortium of 70 leading business men looking to buy U****d back from the Evil Glaziers. I believe one of the 70 is a certain McManus - the same Irish racehorse owner - who sold his shares (for a massive profit) to the Americans in the first place!

You really couldn't make this up its like something out of Monty Python!

The choice of Green and Yellow, is showing how great the club was before it went Red, and turned it Manchester United from Newton Heath. The reason for that reformation? Because they were going out of business! Priceless.

Anyway, I'm going to put on my black and white Maltese cross scarf in celebration of St Marks Boys club in protest at the next City game... well, maybe not!

SNOW! END OF THE WORLD! A MAYAN CONSPIRICY!

Well, what a day its been in drizzly Manchester! 5th of January 2010 will go down in history as not the day the world ended due to the Large Hadron Collider being switched on, or the end of the Mayan calendar - but the day it snowed in Manchester. Quite Heavily.

Now don't get me wrong, I appreciate we are not really set up for snow to interrupt our usual drizzle, and it was quite heavy ( about 5-6 inches) but I haven't seen a city and its people attempt to grind to a halt seemingly at the say so of the media who went into immediate panic mode as soon as they all got into their studios.

You really would have thought a giant meteorite was about to hit the earth!

I left to go to work at 0520 and stepped out of my door to see the full extent of the snow. The first thing I thought was "Gosh, it's been snowing".

I picked up two workmates and drove into the centre of Manchester. We were all in agreement that it had been snowing, and at times, things were a bit hairy on the roads, due to the thickness of the snow.

We had a bit of a dilemma once we arrived in town, on trying to decide which car park to park in. Once this was decided, we parked up and walked to the office, slipping a little on the way, we arrived with damp shoes and wet socks and settled down for a days work.

That really was the level of our concern at the weather.

Within an hour or so the media had woken up and started spreading panic amongst the general population (and in particular the rest of my staff due in at the office).

The phone calls started.

"I'm not sure I can make it in my cars stuck!"

"The radio says all public transport has been suspended!"

"The TV says that the emergency services are no longer functioning!"

"The Internet says the Airport is closed - THE AIRPORT IS CLOSED!!!"

Now, how Manchester Airport being closed affects anything I'm not too sure; as far as I know, none of the guys on the service desk fly in to work.

The airport seems a strange barometer for the weather - "It was that bad, they closed the airport"

Now forgive me if I'm wrong, but Ringway has two mile long stretches of concrete, which when it snows, will quickly get covered. It then isn't really wise to send airplanes hurtling up and down those stretches of concrete to either land or take off. You can't really ask the Ryanair flight to Didcot to tootle along at under 20mph in case its a bit slippy.

No you close the airport (or more importantly the runways) clear them, and then get things moving again. Oddly this doesn't really make the news.

As it turned out we managed to cajole/ bully pretty much all the staff into the office, and they all arrived quite safely in one piece. I'm sure they'll all have better excuses worked out for tomorrow.

A special mention should go here to Dave "Cold - that's not cold, let me tell you about cold" Hardisty, who arrived from somewhere past Bolton half an hour early for his shift wearing a short sleeve shirt!

I was then most annoyed to see the City watch was postponed for tomorrow night! How can they postpone a match the day before - and a derby at that! Surely it should have waited until the actual day of the game - it isn't as though the fans have got to travel far - oh actually, scratch that I was forgetting the united fans coming up from the home counties - and the disruption to the Irish ferry crossings.

I despair!

Anyway, where did I put that orange football!

Happy New Year and All that...

Well another year comes and goes, and after 2001, we're into our second special Sci-fi year - and there's still no sign of any flying cars!

Were the authors / makers of those books and films miles off course, or are these amazing products being kept from us. (We may have computers in a mobile phone - but where's the 3 course meal in a single pill?)

Anyway, I guess the next milestone year is 2019, and the world of Bladerunner? Will there be androids running about a rain swept California and yet more flying cars? Well we've got the rain here in Manchester so if everyone else could just catch up please.

That said, I suppose it could all finish in the year 2012 so maybe I should just start building my own ark!

As to a new years resolution - I promise to write more.... but don't hold your breath - I may just be finishing the prototype astromech droid to serve drinks at my next bar-be-que!

Happy New Year all!

FOOTBALLER CELEBRATES GOAL!!!

As a footnote to a couple of my previous blogs, and as I appear to be on a bit of a run in updating this at the moment, I woulds like to touch upon the antics of a certain David Nugent.

Mr Nugent currently plays for Burnley, and was a substitute in their recent game at Eastlands. Throughout his warm up in front of the corner of the South Stand where I sit he was continually jeered and abused.

Nothing to serious, or say to the Cantona level of abuse, but every time he jogged back toward us he woulds have a big grin on his face ands maybe even a wink for us.

Needless to say he was subbed on and set up the equaliser with 4 minutes to go.

As all his team mates rushed to the Burnley fans, Mr Nugent made a slight detour in our direction to again smile and wave to those who had been mocking him all game.

Adebayor it wasn't...but it was nice he remembereds us before going to join his team mates.

In defence of our wayward striker - that is what football is all about. It's about passion, it's about putting one over on the other team, its about talking points.

Bring on Arsenal in the Carling Cup!

I Really am an Old man. Part 35

As mentioned in my previous blog (Yesterday - I know - amazing!) I am currently on a two week break from work to settle in to the new house, get some jobs done and spend a bit of quality time with the family.

With this in mind I decided to take the chaps from work up on an invite to a night out in Manchester, leaving the wife, one grouchy and one poorly child at home(!)

What a strange and disturbing experience it was.

It was a good crowd I was out with, about 10 of us, of which one female, 4 gay, 3 over 30 (No I wasn't the oldest!) the rest in their twenties, and we started in a bar cum restaurant in the Printworks in Manchester. We all caught up on what had been happening in work and my holiday so far in a nice atmosphere, even if the music was a little loud.

As the beers slowly went down for every one relaxed and a couple of the younger guys got all excited when the song "Since You've been gone" came on - an old, somewhat upbeat AOR track I remember from my youth. After some head scratching the mobile phones came out as people hooked up to the internet to find out who the band singing.

We'd clearly be no good cheating at a pub quiz, as about half way through the next song we finally found out / realised / remembered it was Rainbow, Ritchie Blackmores band from the late seventies/early eighties. Half the guys rocking out to it weren't even born when it was released.

Oh well. I guess around then it was decided that as we could all still hear each others conversations and we had been there for more than two drinks, we'd better move on somewhere else. I've noticed this as a feature of the odd nightout I've been on in the last few years, no one stays put any more! It's like a constant view or feeling that the grass is always greener, and the next bar will be that little bit more exciting.

Why can't people just stay put? Whatever happened to finding yourself a corner in a friendly pub or bar and settling in for the night?

We all trooped out of the bar and around the corner and stood about in the cold trying to decide where to next. So many of these nights seem to revolve around standing about outside wondering what to do next.

I managed to show myself up again in front of a couple of the young guys (even one of the gay chaps) by not standing with my tongue hanging out as two young ladies, in two very short glittery dresses. All I could think was - "Where's their coats? They'll catch a cold dressed like that in November!"

Now that was either the Dad in me coming out, or I've just been exposed to too much porn and don't feel the urge to oogle girls in the street.

Anyway, into "Norwegian Blue" where you really couldn't hear yourself think for the loud music. This again is a bar cum restaurant. Why oh why would you want o have your ears bleed with it?

There was a group of 10-15 middle aged women all wearing matching pink top hats which, believe it or not, didn't need the legend "Hen party" written on them - we could tell.

After a drink or two a song came on, a cover of the intro song out of the film Pulp Fiction. Although recognisable as the song, every bit of it had some singing or rapping or something else going on over the top of it. a couple of songs later and I discovered that all teh music was like this. Every second of every song had to have lots going on, like everyones attention span is that short if you just pause people will wander off.

On my way into town earlier that evening I'd been listening to "Loveless" by My Bloody Valentine, an eighties/nineties indie band. There are 5 minute tracks of just distortion on a single note with slight tonal changes every so often. You can just let it wash over you as you sink deeper and deeper in.

I'm guessing it's no good for bars in the Printworks.

Oh well. Half past nine my ears could take little more, I said my goodbyes and left.. to drive home listening to noise and feedback at maximum volume in the comfort of my car!

Reason 36 coming soon.

We're finally in...and the DIY begins

Well after what felt like an age crawling through the house buying mire we are finally in and the real work begins!

Having moved in just over a month ago now (See I'm not just slow doing this blog you know!) I've finally managed to get some time off work to actually spend some time here, help look after the boys, and do a few of those little jobs to make the house a home.

Several days in and I can tell you what deep down I really already knew.

I hate DIY and - hand on heart - I'm not very good at it.

I really think with the time and the right tools I could probably make a good fist of things... but these things just snowball don't they?

Anyone who saw the front door at our old house will know what I mean.

I'm currently busy re-hanging doors. Yep. A disaster just waiting to happen.

Having bought a house which is on a bit of a slant doesn't really help...

When I'm not breaking stuff with paint and tools I've been spending quite a lot of time handing money over to IKEA. I'm not sure how we've managed to spend over £1000 without buying anyone big piece of furniture!

On our latest visit we fell for the classic "Eye's bigger than" trap of thinking my Honda Civic is a Ford Transit van.

After stacking the trolley high with bookcases and cupboards and all sorts of other assorted tat, we got to the car and started the jigsaw job of fitting it all in, along with the wife and a baby (we managed to "Leave" Wilf with the grand parents) I set about putting seats down, and seats forward, and baby chairs in, and baby chairs out, all in the pouring rain I'd like to point out. (Why does it always rain in situations like this?)

At one point it was agreed that Beth and Eddy would have to stay behind (in the cafe of course) whilst I drove home, emptied the car and drove back to collect them.

With this in mind, we still couldn't actually fit everything in.

A good 45 minutes in, we conceded defeat and tail tucked firmly between our legs we sheepishly made our way to the home delivery office, conveniently located just yards from the area in which we'd been struggling. I wonder how many people they film and submit the videos to you've been framed.

My wallet another £40 lighter we left to await delivery at the weekend! and then the fun can really begin!

As a footnote to this story, whilst picking up random stuff at the Swedish supermarket I saw a nice 6 pick of wine glasses for £2.99 - a bargain - and as we've only got 3 left from the previous set - and I do hate mis matched glasses - I chucked them into the trolley.

They make it through the car loading scenario, all the way home, just ready for me to drop them on the way in.

3 broken, 3 survivors - so now we've got 6 mismatching glasses!

Doh! - where did I put that bottle opener.. .

Well, Well, Well, I didn't See That Coming...

My mind was drawn back to the dark days of our City's brief return to the premiership in 2000-01, when a visit from Arsenal was something to be truly feared.

4-0 down within 20 minutes I seem to remember - the only highlight a pair of streakers in the 2nd half.

Things have improved a little since then, culminating in the 3-0 victory at a similar time last season.

So on to today. I really didn't know what to expect. After our 100% winning start to the season, would this be when we were found out - or when we could really begin to believe we may be in with a chance.

A six goal thriller was the result and a fourth league win on the trot for City.

As to a match report, I'm sure you can read plenty of those elsewhere, but I would like to touch on some of the controversies that surrounded the game, and in particular, surrounded A certain Mr Adebayor.

A slightly ill judged goal celebration, but hey, I don't have to answer to any higher ethical media watch dog - it was absolutely priceless!

To run the length of the pitch to celebrate on your own, in front of the fans who turned on you the season before and had goaded you from the first whistle, was truly worth every penny of the admission charge!

Within today's, stupid, rules he rightly got booked - but my only concern is the fact that Van Persie didn't get booked for goading and celebrating in front of the city fans in the corner of the Colin Bell and South stand. he did not celebrate with his team mates he turned to, and clearly mouthed obscenities at, the City fans.

On the subject of Van Persie, he truly is the new Craig Bellemay(!) - I really cannot think of a more whinging, whining, cheating player in the premier league at the moment.

His comments released after the match regarding his clash with Adebayor (Where he had recklessly thrown himself at the City Man) absolutely scream of Sour grapes.

If anything comes of this complaint it will prove that the top four do truly still have the ear of the (London based) Media, and the FA.

I will be truly fuming , and may even have to write to my local MP on the matter (Who I know is a City fan!)

Anyway to finish on (very) cheap gag, I give you the winner of the Edinburgh Comedy festival one liner competition -

"Hedgehogs: Why can't they just learn to share."

p.s. I came across this picture last week from a UEFA conference or something, can you guess who has just realised he's got the worst seat in the place?

Justa quickie...

I've been meaning to post some stuff up here for so long about my wonderful wife Beth. In so many ways I really do think there is nobody like her in the world.

One are in which she excels is in suffering fools far more than she should (maybe that's why she married me)

An example of this is the lengths she will go to with people phoning to sell us stuff. Not all the times, but if she is in the mood, she will engage them truthfully and at length answering their questions until they normally give up when they realise we have no money.

This was beaten when she was "accosted" in the streets of Sale by a Mormon.

"Would you like to talk about Jesus?" he asked,

"No, sorry I'm in a bit of a rush," and she continued on her way.

50 yards further on, she is stopped again by another chap in matching white shirt and black suit, "Would you like to talk about Jesus?", quick as a flash - "Lucky you should ask, but there's a guy back there wanting to talk about God!"

By the time he realised that Beth meant his fellow Morman, she was long gone.

This was surpased this week when she was stopped by a someone from Greenpeace.

The conversation went something like this...

GREENPEACE:Would you like to donate some money to help save the whales?

BETH: Not really, I think the welsh should be able to look after themselves.

GP(Unfazed): I notice you have a young family?

(No fooling this guy as Beth was pushing Eddy in his push chair)

GP: Would you like them to enjoy sea food when they grow up?

BETH(Now a little intrigued): I guess so...

GP: Well, are you aware that in the over fishing of fish such as Tuna, their stocks are going to be depleated, and as a side affect the number of Dolphins and whales caught in the nets is leading them to extinction.

BETH: And where do I come in to this?

GP: By donating £2 a month it will enable us to cut down on the over fishing and help make safer nets to stop the wrong fish being caught.

BETH: and what happens to the Whales and Dolphins?

GP: Well, they're going to be extinct and -

BETH: But what actually happens to the carcasses of the Whales and Dolphins?

GP: Well, err, I erm guess they're or dumped, anyway, that's not the point...

BETH: Well, I think it is really. Why don't we eat the Dolphins and Whales?

GP:(Shocked) Eat... Flipper?

BETH: It seems a double waste that once they've been caught and killed we just dump the bodies. surely if we ate all that we caught, then we wouldn't need to overfish the other species. Why don't we save the cod? Whales are taking up more ocean than they are - doesn't really seem fair.

By this point the Greenpeace chap was backing away clutching his clipboard.

I believe they are putting up posters of my wife around Sale, warning street vendors not to talk to her...

FOR SALE!

No don't worry - I haven't forgotten everything Bill Hicks taught me and finally sold my (worthless) soul to the highest advertising bid - worse than that I'm trying to sell the family house and join the moving chain to pastures new!

People always say how hard it is buying or selling a house, and you think, maybe so, but doing it again now mid chain, I can see what they mean but in a totally different way.

Let me explain... Preparing for a viewing is a nightmare. Whether this is just our house, or across the board I don't know, but our house is not a show home, and we're happy with that, but the thought of strangers coming into your house and "judging" makes you feel that you must make it into one...

We start cleaning areas that have never seen a duster, cleaning the tops of cupboards that no one will see, hiding stuff in cupboards or under beds. No joke - before a viewing today I was stuffing a pile of dirty clothes into the bottom of a wardrobe - and found a stack of un-ironed shirts which had been stuffed there before a previous visit!

Even Wilf, my 3 year old son commented that we ere crazy when he spotted the hair dryer in the washing machine. In fact the reason I haven't blogged for so long is because we lost the PC... or something like that.

Anyway, on to the first visit. Ten minutes before the potential buyers are due to arrive hot water starts pouring through the ceiling in the hallway. For those who know me, plumbing disasters aren't anything that new but I wasn't prepared for this. It was right where people walk, and could very audibly be heard plopping!

After switching off the water and wrapping a towel around the guilty pipe, the viewers arrive wander about and leave.

I don't think anything prepares you for the feedback. "It's a bit small" - it's a two bedroom terrace - what did you expect! At least they didn't mention the wet patch.

A couple more viewings and much the same mad cap running about tidying(hiding) stuff away and still nothing. The last but one viewing, a Mr Lawson. His feedback - "The decor all needs updating"

A fair comment some may say, but the guy was in his 70's! I don't need a coffin dodger giving me style tips! People watch a couple of home style programmes on the TV and they all think they're Lawrence Llewelyn Bowen - I'm not sure how much of this I can take - and where's that spanner gone again!

It's Official - I'm Not An Old Man...Yet!

It's that time of year when New Century Hall, house and the surrounding parts of Manchester are overrun by the strangest of English breeds.

As the office workers of the Co-Operative Group attempt to go about their daily roles they are having to fight their way through the latest group to take over the conference hall.

No it isn't the latest auditions for X-factor, but the 2009 National Winter Ales Festival! For the couple of years that I've worked in the office building next door, you begin to know something is afoot when various vans of all sizes and from all parts of the country start appearing. This is followed by a certain level of excitement amongst some of my co-workers (mentioning no names - Mark & James).

Finally, as the queues begin to form at the front doors you know that its Real Ale time.

Now these people all have a certain look to them, and it isn't just confined to a "Rochdale Pioneer" vibe (even though they wouldn't look out of place)

As soon as you see the carefully styled beard or sideburns, the pot bellies and the ruddy complexion you know something is going on. Couple that with the waistcoats, baggy cords or fleece jackets, then you know you've probably got an infestation of Ale drinkers.

You know its true, when you realise that they are all wandering about with their own pewter tankards.

Does constantly drinking from the same cup make it taste better? The other giveaway that the "beer Festival" is underway is the lack of females, unless they are all hidden under false beards like the stoning crowd from the life of Brian.

Another odd sign is the guides and helpers sat, or rather slumped, by doorways wearing their "Volunteer" t-shirts, a large bunch of keys on their belt, smelling of stale beer.

We were pleased to see our first "Victim" of the festival at approximately 2 o'clock in the afternoon, a chap, his tankard in one hand, throwing up onto the tram tracks.

As if that wasn't bad enough - it was the site of the two grubby Manchester Pigeons discussing the merits of the old fashioned brewing process that went into the vomit.

Oh well, only two more days to go. Bring on the the Morris Dancers!

Could It Get any More Surreal?

Well the Kaka transfer saga rumbles on, and depending on how successful your particular team is determines pretty much where you stand on the issue.

Depending on what paper you read he will either be signed for a paltry £40million pound (The Daily Star) to a whopping £243million (The Sun). Either way it will probably be quite a lot of money and you are either bemused or foretelling the end of the world and undoubtedly speaking in tongues.

I cannot believe range of emotions it has awoken in people who probably don't even know where Manchester is, never mind that they had two football teams (City and FC United).

Maybe the least surprising is the views eminating from some of the "Big Four" clubs, and in particular Arsenal. Mr Wengar is really not very happy at all.

Apparently we are "are not living in the real world by pursuing a £107m deal for AC Milan's Brazil superstar Kaka." And we thought he was unhappy when we signed Robinho. I cannot help but feel that the Arsenal in particular are worried at the possible break up of "The Big Four" (by Aston Villa - never mind City)

If this was one of those four teams chasing the player, an eyebrow would be raised, but it certainly wouldn't provoke the reaction this has.

One aspect which certainly does amuse me is the attitude of a certain number of Man United fans, who huff and tut at us (like Chelsea before us) trying to "Buy" the premiership, seemingly oblivious to the fact that United have themselves bought the title for the last 15-20 years.

Never mind, the £20million plus spent on Wayne Rooney, Rio Ferdinand, Carrick, Berbatov, and Veron.. Add to this recent signings such as Anderson - £18million, Owen Hargreaves - £17million, Nani £17million. No one (including Chelsea have as many players in the list of top 15 transfers of all time)

It isn't a new thing though, United have always been a big money transfer club, just look at the previous records they have broken over the years with players such as Andy Cole, Roy keane, Gary Pallister, and Bryan Robson all being record signings.

So tell me United haven't "bought" trophies?

But I digress. It is the way it has always been and always will be. For all the accusations flying about, I think I was most impressed, or even surprised by Steve Coppell's -

"City's owner has a target, how he gets there is down to him. Hopefully there'll soon be six teams capable of winning the title, that can only be good. If City join that then brilliant."

Cheers Steve...or maybe he just feels guilty about the 30 day management reign.

A very good article I did read (very surprisingly in the Daily Mail) summed it all up perfectly. It's only a game, for peoples enjoyment. I know some may say that money like this makes a mockery of that statement, but it still doesn't change it.

It's only a game. Enjoy it.

Oh well, bring on Wigan!

Happy New Year and all that ...

Well another year has been and gone and I still don't update this thing half as much as I should! A writer? Pah! as some would say (especially Beth!) I haven't even got a Pen...

For my end / start of year blog I guess I should do some kind of review of the year and try to prove (yet again) that mankind really is just a virus with shoes - thanks Bill, still thinking of you in 2009!

I have been reminded this year on so many occasions, of the scene in Monty Python's Meaning of Life around the middle of the film where the scene moves to the boardroom of a multi national company. The scene pans out something like this -

"CHAIRMAN: ...Which brings us once again to the urgent realisation of just how much there is still left to own. Item six on the agenda: the meaning of life. Now, uh, Harry, you've had some thoughts on this.
HARRY: That's right. Yeah, I've had a team working on this over the past few weeks, and, uh, what we've come up with can be reduced to two fundamental concepts. One: people are not wearing enough hats. Two: matter is energy. In the universe, there are many energy fields which we cannot normally perceive. Some energies have a spiritual source which act upon a person's soul. However, this soul does not exist ab initio, as orthodox Christianity teaches. It has to be brought into existence by a process of guided self-observation. However, this is rarely achieved, owing to man's unique ability to be distracted from spiritual matters by everyday trivia.
[pause]
BERT: What was that about hats, again?"

I think I would have to say that this is undoubtedly my favourite scene in any film, and somewhat sums up mankind in the 21st century. Totally fuelled by media of all types, we are constantly being , you know, being, well, kind of , err, yeah distracted by rubbish... (what was that google search again...cup, girls, two...)

See what I mean?

In no particular order, my fave / worst distractions of the year...

The Brand / Ross debacle... two guys, being idiots to someone who didn't really care - becomes a national outrage - get over it - it really didn't matter.

John Sergeant on Strictly come dine with me in the jungle (or whatever). An old man dancing badly. it's not big, it's clever and it really isn't funny. It must have been hiding something really important in the news that day/week...

The American election going on forever... okay, I guess this might be quite important to the world all in, but does it really have to take so long?

As to some of my dumbest stories of the year, how about -

Linda Lusardi calling 999 for help as she was late for the panto she was in (On no she wasn't etc. etc_) - this story is only topped by an old vegitarian friend of mine going into a freezer shop, and asking for some of that "linda Lusardi stuff".

The fake Penis sellers being jailed...

"The makers of a prosthetic penis to help men cheat on drugs tests have pleaded guilty to two charges of conspiracy in a US federal court. "

The chap who filmed himself breaking the law... and then posted the films on youtube. With his contact details.

To round up, I guess my message to all is to google "Dumb" to just prove why global warming isn't a problem, and the sooner mankind is wiped out the better! (In fact the best search I came across was "Deaf Drummer" - don't ask me why I was searching that...)

Apart from that - Have a good new year one and all - and I'll be back to moan soon enough!

It's Like Crack Cocaine...

... or so I am led to believe, having never really taken anything much stronger than 400mg Ibuprofams (Which are rather good, and mind altering)

Having meandered round the office feeling older and older, and all the "kids" with their ipods and Internet / multi-media playing / photo taking / all singing all dancing / even does the washing up mobile phones, I couldn't help but overhear them going on about this "Face book" thing.

My instant reaction, my Luddite views kicking in, was to ignore it and hope it would go away. Next step was to ban it, but when my age peers started going on about it I knew I could ignore it no longer.

I signed up.

Three days in, and I can safely say it is absolute crap.

And I just cannot leave it alone. I swear almost every minute since I signed up I've been on. Looking, searching delving, moseying about. Putting in random names and groups just to see what comes up, looking at endless pictures of slightly drunk people huddled together in bars.

I find myself pleased when I come across someone I went to school with 15 years ago, and asking them to "Be my friend". I wouldn't even recognise these people if I walked past them in the street - and if I did I would look away and pretend to not see them.

THERE IS A REASON I HAVEN'T SEEN THEM SINCE SCHOOL!

I may be stating the obvious, but it is just Friends re-united, without the blue rinse brigade.

Since I started writing this blog I've been back about 6 times to check if any of my "friends" are logged on - or if anyone has updated my "Wall".

In fact, back in a minute...

...Nope, no one has said anything... although I've got 28 friends now! (I then look at the unpopular smelly acne laden kid from school and he's got 23 thousand....hhmmm)

Every time I see the heading " What are you doing at the moment" I just want to type "Looking at face book" - It's like the 21st century equivalent of "Sex - Yes Please!!!!" filled in on random forms.

My only problem which I know will happen is that I will spend every minute on it now... and then realise that there is just tumbleweed going across my screen and I'll drift away.

And then something dead important will happen, and I'll miss it!

Oh well, I guess I might look as often as I update my blog!

Back to face book now!