The Webster's Dictionary definition of Halloween:
Halloween or Hallowe'en is a holiday celebrated in much of the Western world on the night of October 31, the night before All Saints Day (Nov. 1), hence its alternative name as All Saints Eve or All Hallows' Eve. Long surviving in Ireland, it was brought to the United States by Irish emigrants in the 19th century.
Why Webster's Dictionary you ask? Well, because it's purely American, much like Halloween should be. I fail to see why we (and the rest of the world) buy into everything from 'across the pond' so readily. Fair enough they make pretty good music, and film, and TV, I have no problem with that, I'm actually a big fan of shows like Scrubs and Friends but I just don't understand why we have this desire as a country to be just like America.
I think this has all been brought on by my fundamental hatred for Halloween. The kids knocking on your door while their parents stand judgmentally at the end of your driveway, the shitty orange excuse for a fruit more commonly known as a pumpkin and worst of all the 25 year old chavs who knock on your door at 11pm saying trick or treat who think that putting their hood up is a good enough costume.
Thankfully in our house everyone is of the same opinion. We sit silently in complete darkness ignoring any knocks on the door whilst clutching our crucifixes waiting for daybreak, when we know we'll be safe again. Of course there's always one set of the little trick or treating bastards who sneak around on the 1st of November trying to con you, which is why we usually go out as a family for tea and surround the house with bear traps. The corpses make a wonderful desert when served with left over toffee apples from Hull fair.
But my biggest problem with Halloween, the thing I hate most, is people wanting money from you. Why on earth should I give people money for dressing like they've just escaped a mental asylum? I work hard for my money, there's no way I'm giving it to some acne ridden teenager because he's managed to buy a set of fake fangs and squirt tomato ketchup in and around his mouth. The little shits will be getting nothing from me, ever.
So my plea to the whole of the United Kingdom (which will somewhat be in vain because I know that only 3 people read this blog) is to stop celebrating Halloween, put more emphasis on Bonfire night instead, a night which actually has some cultural and historical relevance to us all.
(Even though for most of you, culture is defined as which drug-dealer you use or where you like to go to get absolutely rat-arsed and beat up your wife, and History is defined as who you shagged up the arse last week, you fucking Phillistines.)
Saturday, 31 October 2009
Tuesday, 27 October 2009
My Life; Without Football Manager
So that time of year's rolling around again!
No, I'm not talking about Christmas or even the new year, I'm talking about Football Manager's release date. Friday the 30th of October 2010 to be precice; The day that I'll lose 2 friends to the lure of a PC football management game (as the game's title suggests).
Phil and Alex are both taking charge of Harrogate Town (Up the Sulphurites!) and hopefully taking them all the way to the top of the Premiership, and maybe even Europe. They'll both be blogging their progress, Alex's will be here:
http://alexbrfc-fm-blog.blogspot.com/
and Phil's will be... well, I'm sure once Phil gets round to it there'll be a link on Alex's page.
But in the spirit of not being left out I thought I might start blogging a bit more regularly (who needs a degree anyway?)
Who knows, I might even blog about some of the games I've been addicted to, it'll be something for Phil and Al to read once Harrogate have their hands on the Champions League Trophy.
I would start now, but I just saw a German film with breasts in it, so I have to go and reminisce! Bye!
No, I'm not talking about Christmas or even the new year, I'm talking about Football Manager's release date. Friday the 30th of October 2010 to be precice; The day that I'll lose 2 friends to the lure of a PC football management game (as the game's title suggests).
Phil and Alex are both taking charge of Harrogate Town (Up the Sulphurites!) and hopefully taking them all the way to the top of the Premiership, and maybe even Europe. They'll both be blogging their progress, Alex's will be here:
http://alexbrfc-fm-blog.blogspot.com/
and Phil's will be... well, I'm sure once Phil gets round to it there'll be a link on Alex's page.
But in the spirit of not being left out I thought I might start blogging a bit more regularly (who needs a degree anyway?)
Who knows, I might even blog about some of the games I've been addicted to, it'll be something for Phil and Al to read once Harrogate have their hands on the Champions League Trophy.
I would start now, but I just saw a German film with breasts in it, so I have to go and reminisce! Bye!
Friday, 4 September 2009
The Not So Mighty Black and Whites
I'm currently sat with my laptop on my knee downstairs watching Leeds vs St Helens in the super league, which has always been a big game. It's a typical Friday night; Mum's reading a book, my brother's just going to bed and Jamie's sat screaming at the referee for no apparent reason. There's already been one break away, a fantastic try-saving tackle, a sin binning and a disallowed try. It just makes me wonder what's happened to my team: the once great Hull FC. 3 years ago they were riding high. They'd won the challenge cup in the most dramatic of fashions in 2005 and had a dream season in 2006, making it all the way to the Grand final, only losing out to the then unstoppable St Helens.
Fast Forward to the present and Hull FC have finished outside of the playoff bracket for the second year in a row. 2008 saw them finish as the 2nd worst team in the league and 2009 doesn't promise to be much better. So why the sudden turn around in fortunes?
Well, the first (and most obvious reason) is the decline in quality of the playing squad. Over the last few seasons FC have had a strange fetish for so called 'utility' players, meaning that they've been bringing in players who can cover multiple positions in case of injury etc. This has however left the team without specialist players. As much as it pains me to say it, they've never replaced Paul Cooke. Also, letting Shaun Briscoe move to the dark side is one of the worst decisions ever made at the club. Again it was a decision taken because Briscoe was not enough of a 'utility player' but now we've been left without a recognised full back while Briscoe works magic for Hull KR.
Signings like Chris Thorman just show how much of a backward step the club is taking. Instead of signing Michael Dobson when they had the opportunity, the club opted to let him join Hull KR and instead signed a player who was not good enough to play half back for Huddersfield. He waddle's like a duck and is a geordie, why would anyone in their right mind sign him?!
The Second major reason; the lack of a good coach and backroom staff. Richard Agar is an assistant coach at best yet he's in charge of the first team with another Huddersfield reject: John Sharpe.
Third of all, the passion has gone. The players don't play with pride which means in turn that the crowd are less enthusiastic. It's like nobody wants to be there anymore.
All in all it's a bit of a shit situation, and I don't know why we, the fans bother anymore.
Oh and I'm sorry that I've had to vent my anger on here on a subject that most of you have little or no interest in. I just thought it'd be better if I put it in writing! What a surprise, we're losing 10-6 at half time to Wigan...
Fast Forward to the present and Hull FC have finished outside of the playoff bracket for the second year in a row. 2008 saw them finish as the 2nd worst team in the league and 2009 doesn't promise to be much better. So why the sudden turn around in fortunes?
Well, the first (and most obvious reason) is the decline in quality of the playing squad. Over the last few seasons FC have had a strange fetish for so called 'utility' players, meaning that they've been bringing in players who can cover multiple positions in case of injury etc. This has however left the team without specialist players. As much as it pains me to say it, they've never replaced Paul Cooke. Also, letting Shaun Briscoe move to the dark side is one of the worst decisions ever made at the club. Again it was a decision taken because Briscoe was not enough of a 'utility player' but now we've been left without a recognised full back while Briscoe works magic for Hull KR.
Signings like Chris Thorman just show how much of a backward step the club is taking. Instead of signing Michael Dobson when they had the opportunity, the club opted to let him join Hull KR and instead signed a player who was not good enough to play half back for Huddersfield. He waddle's like a duck and is a geordie, why would anyone in their right mind sign him?!
The Second major reason; the lack of a good coach and backroom staff. Richard Agar is an assistant coach at best yet he's in charge of the first team with another Huddersfield reject: John Sharpe.
Third of all, the passion has gone. The players don't play with pride which means in turn that the crowd are less enthusiastic. It's like nobody wants to be there anymore.
All in all it's a bit of a shit situation, and I don't know why we, the fans bother anymore.
Oh and I'm sorry that I've had to vent my anger on here on a subject that most of you have little or no interest in. I just thought it'd be better if I put it in writing! What a surprise, we're losing 10-6 at half time to Wigan...
Thursday, 13 August 2009
Thinking Thursday
Today was the day that I ran out of things to do.
My last exam was at the beginning of June and the last 2 and a half months have melted away. Don't get me wrong I've had a brilliant time but it's gone way too fast. I don't think life will ever be this care-free again and it sucks.
This time in 10 years I could be married. Obviously I'd need to find a girl first, and at this rate it's not likely because Karma isn't my friend but the thought's still really scary.
This time in 10 years I'll be worrying about turning 30, not 20 and my dad will be pushing 60. No doubt I'll be working 9-5 all week and all my hopes and dreams will have been smashed. Ah well, I might not even live that long. I'll just have to make the most of it wont I?
My last exam was at the beginning of June and the last 2 and a half months have melted away. Don't get me wrong I've had a brilliant time but it's gone way too fast. I don't think life will ever be this care-free again and it sucks.
This time in 10 years I could be married. Obviously I'd need to find a girl first, and at this rate it's not likely because Karma isn't my friend but the thought's still really scary.
This time in 10 years I'll be worrying about turning 30, not 20 and my dad will be pushing 60. No doubt I'll be working 9-5 all week and all my hopes and dreams will have been smashed. Ah well, I might not even live that long. I'll just have to make the most of it wont I?
Sunday, 9 August 2009
Gran Canaria Blog
So, 2 guys go on holiday alone, kinda gay huh? SHUT UP! THIS IS THE 21st CENTURY, GET OVER YOURSELF!
Ok, so that’s that over with (for now). This blog will be a little different and will probably only be enjoyed by me and Phil, but screw the rest of you ‘cause I’m writing it anyway.
Me and Señor Bexley had a very subdued ride to the airport, mainly because my step-dad decided that he’d listen to the Cricket commentary on the radio for the full journey. Now, Cricket’s boring on TV, but radio cricket is like a mild sedative. I zoned out for 2 hours and forgot who I was. Infact at one point I think I actually thought I was Andrew Flintoff. Therefore you can imagine our relief when we finally got to the airport to check in. We had a little mis-hap when Phil forgot that pasties aren’t allowed in your hand-luggage. The poor guy had packed 5 steak slices and 2 Cornish pasties which he had to throw away, such a waste!
After being charged £9 for a Burger in the airport Phil became a little irate and tipped all of the sugar out of the bowl although he said it was an accident.
Perhaps it was the guy who when questioned as to why he was cutting infront of the 4 person long queue for security with his wife answered with, “Yes, I’ve paid for the fast lane” who really fucked with Phil’s head because I know it did with mine. The guy was taking pride in the fact that he’d probably paid an extra £50 so that he could be a smug twat and push past 4 people, which made it SO satisfying when Phil and I strolled through to the departure lounge before the smug bastard had even put his belt back on.
Sooner or later we actually arrived in Gran Canaria and were greeted by a wonderfully mongy holiday rep called Jodie, which wasn’t a pretty sight at 2am. Surprise surprise: she was from Hull, possibly the mongo capital of the world. ‘Our Jodie’ as she became known showed us to our hotel, The Altamar, which was fine except we’d been given the room right at the bottom and had to take the world’s smallest, most illogical lift at 3am to get to it and then find it in the dark.
Other than that, the hotel was generally fine. The view was great, Taxis to the main centre cost less than 5 Euros and it had 2 massive pools. The night that I melted into a puddle because of my broken fan was far from pleasant though and we only had 1 channel on the TV: Eurosport. So over the course of the week we both became experts in Cycling (BRADLEY WIGGINS!), Diving (TOM DALEY!) and erm... well, that was it all week really! We just sat back and ate and drank questionable produce e.g. Chorizo and ‘Bati’ strawberry milk. Phil particularly liked the bati.
Other activities which took place in our room included: Rubbing sun cream into each other’s backs, smelling our fragrant fridge, having slightly homo-erotic pistachio fights, pretending to be a velocoraptor, and flashing the full resort of Puerto Rico (The last 2 were just Phil’s).
So did they just stay in the apartment for a full week acting like special children you ask? Not quite, but one incident in particular makes me wish I had. We went over to a club called ‘Cream’ in Playa de Inglés one night for some party times. The drinks were 2 for 1 and within about 10 minutes I’d downed approximately 4 double vodka and cokes, not good. Fast forward 10 minutes and I’m having a race across the dance-floor on a space hopper with some girl, the prize being a shot of sambuca. Being how I am, I fell face first off the thing but still managed to win the race. I then proceeded to buy more sambuca because it was only 1 Euro a shot.
I’m not going into too much detail but let’s just say that I ended up pulling a right porker from Oldham (whose name I can’t remember) and then doing some things on a bus that I’m not proud of with a girl called Charlotte.
Moving On! Other things that we did were:
Mini-golf, we played twice and both won one each. Pardraig Harrington would be proud.
Eating tonnes of food. Especially me, I actually ate Old McDonald’s farm one night in the form of a mixed grill, I felt so ill afterwards.
We went to Aqualand, a waterpark with an awesome lazy river and obviously suffered from the age old problem of dealing with a scorching hot floor in bare feet, but all was made better when we saw possibly the most pert Spanish lady in history. The image of her goddess like ‘Tatty Bojangles’ will be forever etched into mine and Phil’s consciousnesses.
We rented a pedelo one day (jet-skis were too expensive) and nearly got destroyed by an oncoming ferry .
We took a trip on a Catamaran on the Friday out into the ocean which was good. We got off to swim for a bit which was fun until I realised I couldn’t tread water for more than 5 minutes and the water below me was 50 meters deep, but I survived and it was a good day!
Anyway I’m not gonna carry on detailing every single aspect of the holiday. I’m just gonna say it was a week very well spent with one of my best mates (even if he is sometimes a dinosaur).
So when the time came to go home, we packed up our stuff and left the chorizo in the fridge for the cleaner to enjoy. We managed to pass 2 minutes on the plane journey home trying to name the full ground-force team. We had Titchmarsh and Charlie ‘no bra’ Dimmock straight away but for some reason Tommy Walsh evaded us. Ah well, now we know!
Ok, so that’s that over with (for now). This blog will be a little different and will probably only be enjoyed by me and Phil, but screw the rest of you ‘cause I’m writing it anyway.
Me and Señor Bexley had a very subdued ride to the airport, mainly because my step-dad decided that he’d listen to the Cricket commentary on the radio for the full journey. Now, Cricket’s boring on TV, but radio cricket is like a mild sedative. I zoned out for 2 hours and forgot who I was. Infact at one point I think I actually thought I was Andrew Flintoff. Therefore you can imagine our relief when we finally got to the airport to check in. We had a little mis-hap when Phil forgot that pasties aren’t allowed in your hand-luggage. The poor guy had packed 5 steak slices and 2 Cornish pasties which he had to throw away, such a waste!
After being charged £9 for a Burger in the airport Phil became a little irate and tipped all of the sugar out of the bowl although he said it was an accident.
Perhaps it was the guy who when questioned as to why he was cutting infront of the 4 person long queue for security with his wife answered with, “Yes, I’ve paid for the fast lane” who really fucked with Phil’s head because I know it did with mine. The guy was taking pride in the fact that he’d probably paid an extra £50 so that he could be a smug twat and push past 4 people, which made it SO satisfying when Phil and I strolled through to the departure lounge before the smug bastard had even put his belt back on.
Sooner or later we actually arrived in Gran Canaria and were greeted by a wonderfully mongy holiday rep called Jodie, which wasn’t a pretty sight at 2am. Surprise surprise: she was from Hull, possibly the mongo capital of the world. ‘Our Jodie’ as she became known showed us to our hotel, The Altamar, which was fine except we’d been given the room right at the bottom and had to take the world’s smallest, most illogical lift at 3am to get to it and then find it in the dark.
Other than that, the hotel was generally fine. The view was great, Taxis to the main centre cost less than 5 Euros and it had 2 massive pools. The night that I melted into a puddle because of my broken fan was far from pleasant though and we only had 1 channel on the TV: Eurosport. So over the course of the week we both became experts in Cycling (BRADLEY WIGGINS!), Diving (TOM DALEY!) and erm... well, that was it all week really! We just sat back and ate and drank questionable produce e.g. Chorizo and ‘Bati’ strawberry milk. Phil particularly liked the bati.
Other activities which took place in our room included: Rubbing sun cream into each other’s backs, smelling our fragrant fridge, having slightly homo-erotic pistachio fights, pretending to be a velocoraptor, and flashing the full resort of Puerto Rico (The last 2 were just Phil’s).
So did they just stay in the apartment for a full week acting like special children you ask? Not quite, but one incident in particular makes me wish I had. We went over to a club called ‘Cream’ in Playa de Inglés one night for some party times. The drinks were 2 for 1 and within about 10 minutes I’d downed approximately 4 double vodka and cokes, not good. Fast forward 10 minutes and I’m having a race across the dance-floor on a space hopper with some girl, the prize being a shot of sambuca. Being how I am, I fell face first off the thing but still managed to win the race. I then proceeded to buy more sambuca because it was only 1 Euro a shot.
I’m not going into too much detail but let’s just say that I ended up pulling a right porker from Oldham (whose name I can’t remember) and then doing some things on a bus that I’m not proud of with a girl called Charlotte.
Moving On! Other things that we did were:
Mini-golf, we played twice and both won one each. Pardraig Harrington would be proud.
Eating tonnes of food. Especially me, I actually ate Old McDonald’s farm one night in the form of a mixed grill, I felt so ill afterwards.
We went to Aqualand, a waterpark with an awesome lazy river and obviously suffered from the age old problem of dealing with a scorching hot floor in bare feet, but all was made better when we saw possibly the most pert Spanish lady in history. The image of her goddess like ‘Tatty Bojangles’ will be forever etched into mine and Phil’s consciousnesses.
We rented a pedelo one day (jet-skis were too expensive) and nearly got destroyed by an oncoming ferry .
We took a trip on a Catamaran on the Friday out into the ocean which was good. We got off to swim for a bit which was fun until I realised I couldn’t tread water for more than 5 minutes and the water below me was 50 meters deep, but I survived and it was a good day!
Anyway I’m not gonna carry on detailing every single aspect of the holiday. I’m just gonna say it was a week very well spent with one of my best mates (even if he is sometimes a dinosaur).
So when the time came to go home, we packed up our stuff and left the chorizo in the fridge for the cleaner to enjoy. We managed to pass 2 minutes on the plane journey home trying to name the full ground-force team. We had Titchmarsh and Charlie ‘no bra’ Dimmock straight away but for some reason Tommy Walsh evaded us. Ah well, now we know!
Monday, 13 July 2009
The Irate Blog
I'm not a violent person. You probably know this. I'm the type of guy who would call someone a twat, throw a shoe at them and then run away instead of fight, but the past couple of hours have just made me want to punch someone/something.
I wont elaborate otherwise my laptop might find itself in pieces in the garden :)
I wont elaborate otherwise my laptop might find itself in pieces in the garden :)
Friday, 10 July 2009
The Inevitable Response To Al B's Opinions
As I detailed in the last blog, Alex and I had a sort of playlist showdown on Spotify, and really, who in their right mind would think that would be the end of it?! I just needed to clear up a few points.
Firstly, I think we're all in agreement that I have an unhealthy need for late 70s/80s rock. I'm not denying it but just wanted to show that I don't just sit all day in a darkened room listening to Rush and Journey, I also sit in a darkened room listening to slightly more modern music (sometimes).
Oh and I liked the songs before Guitar Hero did, the guys at Guitar Hero just have good taste! Kudos to Alex on liking Reel Big Fish and Less Than Jake. I think we've both come away from this experiment with a slightly more varied music taste. I know I'll be checking out more of Gym Class Heroes, Dan le Sac and Scroobius Pip and also Rilo Kiley. We've both learned something!
Something which really surprised me about Alex's playlist was that a lot of the songs sounded really similar, something which Alex also said about mine. The word generic was used an awful lot on both sets of reviews, but I'm sure if you asked either one of us about our own playlists we'd swear that they weren't. I suppose it's just a case of what you're used to, and nothing will ever change it.
Going into this experiment, my ultimate aim was to convert Alex into a genuine Rock-a-holic, and I'm sure he expected me to come out of it a changed man, but I've definitely realised that there's no way to change anyone's music taste. A song that's absolute garbage to one guy is a musical gem to another. Foo Fighters being a stand out example; I love them, I'm not ashamed to say that I'd love to spoon with Dave Grohl while listening to DOA, but they don't do anything for Alex. Music taste is so diverse and I'm just glad that our music taste crosses over at some points and we can both agree that bands such as Nickelback, RHCP and the Stereophonics are all fantastic! Long Live King Chad!
P.S. Gwen Stefani really is quite hot and cold isn't she? Who in their right mind would wanna do 'the nasty' with a fried egg?
Firstly, I think we're all in agreement that I have an unhealthy need for late 70s/80s rock. I'm not denying it but just wanted to show that I don't just sit all day in a darkened room listening to Rush and Journey, I also sit in a darkened room listening to slightly more modern music (sometimes).
Oh and I liked the songs before Guitar Hero did, the guys at Guitar Hero just have good taste! Kudos to Alex on liking Reel Big Fish and Less Than Jake. I think we've both come away from this experiment with a slightly more varied music taste. I know I'll be checking out more of Gym Class Heroes, Dan le Sac and Scroobius Pip and also Rilo Kiley. We've both learned something!
Something which really surprised me about Alex's playlist was that a lot of the songs sounded really similar, something which Alex also said about mine. The word generic was used an awful lot on both sets of reviews, but I'm sure if you asked either one of us about our own playlists we'd swear that they weren't. I suppose it's just a case of what you're used to, and nothing will ever change it.
Going into this experiment, my ultimate aim was to convert Alex into a genuine Rock-a-holic, and I'm sure he expected me to come out of it a changed man, but I've definitely realised that there's no way to change anyone's music taste. A song that's absolute garbage to one guy is a musical gem to another. Foo Fighters being a stand out example; I love them, I'm not ashamed to say that I'd love to spoon with Dave Grohl while listening to DOA, but they don't do anything for Alex. Music taste is so diverse and I'm just glad that our music taste crosses over at some points and we can both agree that bands such as Nickelback, RHCP and the Stereophonics are all fantastic! Long Live King Chad!
P.S. Gwen Stefani really is quite hot and cold isn't she? Who in their right mind would wanna do 'the nasty' with a fried egg?
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