Chinese New Year 2009

Why is it always the same every bloody year? Whilst I always welcome a Chinese, why is it that I only desperately need one when it's Chinese New Year? 2009 has been no different, aching for Chinese grub and there's not a one open. Bugger.

Cocaine Trains, 24 Hour Licensing and Not A Chippy In Sight

The lads got together last night for a bit of a beer and rant session. Attendance was excellent with five of us showing up.

I got a taxi down, being the only out of towner. It wasn't the cost that alarmed me though, the taxi driver was one of those chatty English blokes and was happy ranting away about this and that. He mentioned how he was out last week and the pub closed at 11. WTF? What sort of hour is 11 o'fucking clock to be closing your pub in the land of 24 hour licensing. Anyhoo I took it with a pinch of salt, maybe it was just a one off?

When I arrived at Bar Gay..... I mean Boy George.... I mean Bar George...everybody was already seated. The nights of the round table. At about 2 beers in everybody loosened up and the rant was flowing freely. From the human race to teachers I think we just about covered it all. I learnt something as well, Cocaine Trains. There were a bunch of pin-striped toss pots (not that Iprejudge people of course) sat close to us who were regularly taking it in turns to go to the toilet in groups of 3. I just assumed they were bummers but in fact it's something called a Cocaine Train. The give away being the smug, back slapping looks they come back with.

So just as the night was really warming up for what could have been a better than great session time was called. At 11 o'clock. People left, chairs were put on tables until there was only us sat there. I was CONVINCED that it was some sort of a joke. Apparently not. Left to wander the streets it was decided that a chippy was the next order of the day, we wandered long and far, looking for anywhere that had a sign of life. Not a bloody one open. What sort of a shit hole island is this? I demand the right to be able to drink later than 11 on my thrice annual nights out and I also demand the right to go to a chippy on the way home, as I've done for the last 13 years. All this talk of credit crunches and shite is all great until you can't go to a chippy on your way home.

It was a great night, great company and shoddy lager. I've just crawled out of bed with a head that is begging me to puke my guts up to feel better. Now that wouldn't have happened if I'd had some chips to put on top of the dirty nasty lager.

Here's a picture of us in Boy George.....I mean Bar George:-

Insensitive

Is when you're laughing and joking with a mate about how you're considering getting another job "just" to fill your time, you walk away and only then realise that he was being a bit quite cos he's working for a company that has just announced huge layoffs.

Bugger.

Katrina Darrell - American Idol

I've never been a big fan of these make me a star shows like American Idol. However every now and then a story comes out about one that grabs my attention. Take Katrina Darrell for example who recently auditioned on American Idol in only a bikini. I don't know what it is about this girl that gets my attention....





The question is how would this translate to the UK, how would we feel if the average English munter turned up in her bikini on Saturday night TV? Do we have any Katrina Darrell's out there?

Oh my God! There probably isn’t one.

Atheist adverts declaring that "there's probably no God" have been placed on 800 buses around Britain after an unprecedented fundraising campaign. Well my point of view is neither here nor there, but I unquestionable know there isn’t one.

And if you needed proof, just look at the psycho bitch that was my first wife, no God would allow me to do that. Then there is the complete Cluster Fuck that is the world at the moment and in all likelihood since man managed to drag himself out of the primordial slim and pick up a pint.

Man’s inhumanity to man is legendary, whether it is the in name of some deity, some cause or just for the sake of power.

Yep, there is no God. The final proof is Chicks with Dicks… WTF?

New Gladiator Siren

Those bastards over at Sky have binned my favourite Gladiator Ice! Thoughtfully though they have seen fit to employ some even fitter totty - I give you Siren (Amy Guy)!

Ho Ho Ho

Done. For another year. Had a fantastic Christmas actually, it had all the right things, lazing around, turkey and beer. Christmas day was the usual blur of opening the pressies, cooking, eating, playing, watching TV before finally sticking the Wii on for some late night darts. There was a bit of grumpy tiredness later on in the day but it basically had everything you'd expect from a nice pleasant Christmas day. Everybody got everything they wanted from Santa and I even managed to get the turkey right this year.

Boxing day we did nothing except play with our new toys. L hitting Animal Crossing on the Wii, S with the e-reader and me on the x-box. It was awesome. There are times when I think I'm missing out on stuff by not being in the pub as much as I used to (usually when I'm in the pub) but it's days like this that I really enjoy, just being sat around the house with nothing much to do taking it easy with my favourite people. There is a lot to be said for just being lazy every now and then. Maybe age will be a welcome companion for me after all. And that's been about it really. I'm not planning on doing a whole lot until the new year so it's going to be bits of work and playing games for the next few days. New years eve will be a case of a few beers and a board game with the in-laws, it's all rock n' roll.

For now though I hope everybody had a great Christmas and wish everybody a happy new year! Take it easy.

Slippers and cardigan on, must get back to the xbox.

Thank Fuck For That

Daughter does ballroom dancing. Wife is a huge ballroom fan. Queue 3 months of having that uber shite Strictly program on TV every single bastard night.

In a bit of parent child bonding I sat through the final on Saturday night and there were a few things I noticed.

1. The winner, Tom Somebody. What a smug twat. No really, I don't think I've ever seen anybody more smug. He couldn't have been smugger if he'd been born in the small town of Smugville in the county of Smugden in the country of Smugmania. Not only that but he was by far the worst dancer (I assume that is at least part of this program?). I have it on good authority that at least 3 of the girls and another one of the lads were significantly better than him throughout the whole thing. Certainly on the night the 2 girls seemed to be much better than Mr Smug. The judges and the experts around me said so. What the hell did the voting female public see in him? I understand that he doesn't have a competing vagina and that automatically makes him a vote for any girl 20-30 years old but seriously, come on?! Is it really that hard to vote for another girl?

2. Fred and Ginge. How many references can you have to Fred and Ginger in one program, surely Saturday night set some sort of record? It turns out that Tom The Twat has always wanted to be like Fred Astaire. He's also been dance trained. I'm beginning to smell something funny here.

3. Finally it all becomes clear. Mr Smug is actually an unemployed BBC actor, Strictly Shite seems to be on its last legs. The BBC will be looking for a new dance orientated Saturday night program soon (seeing as how it's the only program in their books with any viewer rating). Who better to host it than the UK's very own new Fred Astaire who also just happens to have just won Strictly? It could only possibly be better if he'd just got married (which got no coverage right, wasn't even mentioned?), a good wholesome Saturday night TV presenter. We give you, Mr Tom Chambers.

4. From looking at Lisa's partners face I'd say he worked this out a bit quicker than me. He looks like he could handle himself (for a puffy dancer), hopefully he'll man up and go and knock the crap out of Mr Tom "Smug" Chambers for wasting months of his life teaching somebody to dance who had no chance of winning because the BBC already knew who was going to win from day one. The only chance the judges had to put a spanner in the works the bosses just by-passed the dance off. Nice and subtle boys.

So that was about it. Basically another reality show of rigging and bullshit designed to do nothing more that rape people for phone money. 3 months of it. Even worse we'll now be seeing that smug fucker on every BBC program that they have the opportunity to put him on. Yet another reason not to pay a license fee.

Edit - And just to show how humble in winning the man is:-

"Chambers meanwhile believes he won because he was more of an entertainer than a dancer."

Ahh, so blubbering every 30 seconds about how lucky you are to be married is now entertainment you fucktard? No you smarmy waste of oxygen you won because MOST women don't like other women.

BBC Taxes The Isle of Man

It is a well known fact that the Isle of Man gets fuck all coverage from the BBC. Oh sure we get the odd bit of bad publicity about being tax dodgers on Newsnight and maybe a few pictures of the Laxey Wheel taken by Ethell from Port St Mary on North West Tonight but that's about it. When it comes to radio our local station receives nothing from the BBC, it's funded completely by the tax payers of the Island.

Yet we still pay a license fee. Exactly the same as the one in the UK. To add insult to injury there are a load of places on the rock where you can't even get a half decent TV reception with an aerial. Many more with no signal at all. That's why 70% of the population are paying on top for satellite TV! So at last one of our politicians has had the gall to say something about this BBC rip-off. But we're told that if we scrap the fee then it will end up costing us more, except if you have Satellite TV.

Soooo 70% of the population have Satellite TV, therefore scrapping the license fee is going to save them money each year. Of the other 30% I wonder how many qualify for a free license? Just about all I would have thought. So they are being subsidised by everybody else. So here's a plan, how about we have a vote amongst those of us that actually get to pay for all this shit. Ignore the "I'm not paying for it but I don't like change" gang just for once.

Those who want to carry on paying a license fee no matter what the cost say - "Fuck me BBC now you bad boy".

Those who instead would like to see the license fee scrapped and have the subsidy money for 1 year go towards fitting Freeview satellite systems for the other 30% of homes (with no extra costs after that) say - "Fuck off you stealth taxing robbing twats".

The BBC is received without a license fee in tonnes of places all over the world. The UK are so keen to tell us that we are not in their gang at every opportunity so why do we volunteer our money to their state owned TV every year?

Why Can't Women Blow Their Noses?

Mrs B has a terrible cold at the moment, it's on its fourth day and no signs of letting up yet. Last night was another sleepless night of tossing and turning, sniffling, coughing, sniffling and then more sniffling.

What is it that makes women unable to blow their noses? When I'm bunged up there's no better feeling than letting rip into a hanky leaving a trail that Ron Jeremy would be proud off. Get out you bitch! Of course it builds up again but at least it's half an hour of breathing freedom. When you're sniffling all you're doing is sucking it up to let it fall back down again. It's not going anywhere unless you do a super soak up when it ends up in your throat. That's alright when you're outside but you can hardly phlegm it out in the house.

Even when convinced that there is no shame in blowing your nose most chicks make a dismal attempt at it. Some half hearted pfffhhh through one nostril. I've seen my daughter cry when trying to blow her nose, giving up and rubbing half her nose away instead. It's easy, you take a deep breath in using your mouth, close your mouth and blow as hard as you can through your nose. When either your ears pop or your nose erupts you know you've done it right.

So girlies of the world there is no shame in blowing your nose, if it's one blow or 30 minutes of sniffling I know what I rather hear. Get blowing!

Manx Gas

Fifteen phone calls later.

Me - "Hi, I'd like to pay my gas bill please"

Lasy - "Sorry, they're with a customer at the moment, would you like to call back later"

Me - "No."

Lady - "Oh, why?"

Me - "Because this is my fifteenth phone call, I'm starting to lose my sense of humour about this, since 9 o'clock this fucking morning I've been trying to give you some money"

Lady - "I'll take your details..."

So the moral of this story is this. Fuck being polite.

You May Want To Close Your Ears...

Fuckidy fucking fuck, with a big yellow fucking fuck off on top!

I've taken the day of today, only 3 things to do, 3 very very simple things but I knew deep down that on this shithole rock nothing is ever that simple. Prepared, I've taken the whole day to get them sorted.

1. Pay gas bill via debit card. There is a number on the back of the bill so this should be a no brainer, or at least you'd think so. I've phoned at least 12 times this morning, either to get no answer at all or to be asked if I can phone back in 10-15 minutes because they're busy! For fucks sake I'm only trying to pay our fucking bill using one of the recommended payment methods on the back of the bill you cunts. So far I've racked up the cost of 12 phone calls without having managed to get even close to paying the bill.

2. Arrange to have the oven fixed. Now I knew this was going to be a shitter. First of all I phone the MEA who advertise that they fix Indesit appliances but surprise surprise, no joy. So I phone Indesit themselves who take all my details, the girl on the other end is actually very nice and helpful until she comes to pull up my nearest repair man. "Oh you live on the Isle of Man" she says with a level of fear that even I taste this end of the phone. 10 minutes of being on hold later she comes back with the news that they can't actually help me with my repair but instead a list of phone numbers to try. I go through them all, eventually coming across one that answers. As luck would have it I'm now speaking to the people who fix Indesit stuff on the rock. It's only taken an hour. They take the model of my oven, the phone goes silent. 2 minutes later I'm asked if I have the serial number, what the??? I check the Oven everywhere, there is nothing that identifies it anymore than the manual (which I've already told them). "Oh well there's 3 different types, without the exact serial right one we can't help". The end. So that's that, no chance of having the £500 2 year old oven fixed on the rock. As soon as I mention buying a new one though they are more than happy to help. They can shove it up their asses. So instead I take the oven apart, right down to its bare components, on giving up deciding what might be the thermostat (no parts are labeled of course) I decide that enough is enough. I'll be buying a £5 Oven Thermometer instead - from off island.

3. Get return box for x-box. My final job today, sit in and wait for the return box so I can have my 360 fixed. Microsoft inform me that it should be with me today. The local courier firm can neither confirm nor deny this although there's no sign of it yet. I'm not hopeful.

So overall out of 3 very simple jobs to do I've managed to complete fuck all. Is it through a lack of trying, our phone bill would suggest not? Or is it because living on this fucking rock nothing is ever simple.

GMail Gets Even Cooler

We love Gmail here, well all except one of us anyway. If however there was any criticism of GMail it was that it was a little dull looking. Well not anymore. Google have pimped the ass out of it by supplying a raft of interesting themes.

Enjoy.

WE ARE NOT A TAX HAVEN

The Isle of Man has accumulated significant wealth over the last 20 years. Bank deposits of more than 80 billion, pensions and investments also of more than 80 billion. As well as this we have one of the largest shipping registers in the world and not to mention a very active film/movie industry. There are thousands of companies registered at our companies registry, the vast majority of which have no connection with the Isle of Man.

Now the question, this wealth has been accumulated on the Isle of Man because:-

a) We are all really nice people, we say hello to the fairies, the Norse God Thor and his mighty hammer have blessed us with good fortune.

b) The Manx as a race are bred to provide unrivalled customer service. From our busses to our international telephone banking client call centres all our staff are immensely pleasant and helpful. Our natural skill base and "need to serve" has attracted big business.

c) We made doing business cheaper. Instead of paying £10 tax to somebody else we'll let you do business for only £1 or even better free (as long as you employ local staff) i.e we are a tax haven - we compete on taxation

Then there is the question of individuals. Why do so many non manx individuals choose to open accounts on the Isle of Man?

Is it:-

a) Because they came here once on holiday and liked the place so much that they thought it best to keep their entire life savings here?

b) They saw the TT on Men & Motors once and figured what the hell, that's the place where I want to keep my money!

c) Despite all the best regulations and claims in the world it is still entirely possible to hide the real beneficiary (or who owns what) via any number of corporate/investment vehicles. And at the end of the day we can always just claim that it is the individual’s responsibility to declare any money offshore as and when it is repatriated i.e. we are a tax haven?

Praise be to Thor and the TT is all I can say!

The woman who couldn't even clean

Nice article this:

http://uk.news.yahoo.com/4/20081119/twl-astronaut-s-bag-drifts-into-space-41f21e0_1.html

It's about the Astronaut woman who dropped her tools while cleaning something on the Space Station - the tools then drifted away.

By late Tuesday, the bag was already more than two miles (3.2km) in front of the shuttle-station complex

Given that (in space) everything is inertia based, since there's not much in the way of gravity or wind resistance. This means all motion is strictly proportional.

So, for the tools to drift 3.2 km in 24 hours it means they drifted 133m in the first hour. And 2 metres in the first minute. About an arm's length in the first 20 seconds. A slug is quicker than that. She's not exactly a quick thinker.

But it does beg the question:

Why the hell wasn't she in the kitchen!?

p.s. for the women who need this blog translated into woman-speak - forget about it, just put on a pretty dress or something. Get your nails done.

The One Flaw In Women

This is hilarious:

By the time the Lord made woman,
He was into his sixth day of working overtime.
An angel appeared and said,
'Why are you spending so much time on this one?'
And the Lord answered, 'Have you seen my spec sheet on her?
She has to be completely washable, but not plastic,
have over 200 movable parts, all replaceable
and able to run on diet coke and leftovers,
have a lap that can hold four children at one time,
have a kiss that can cure anything from a scraped knee to a broken heart
-and she will do everything
with only two hands.'

The angel was astounded at the requirements.
'Only two hands!? No way!
And that's just on the standard model?
That's too much work for one day.
Wait until tomorrow to finish.'

'But I won't, ' the Lord protested.
'I am so close to finishing t his creation that is so close to my own heart.
She already heals herself when she is sick
AND can work 18 hour days.'

The angel moved closer and touched the woman.
'But you have made her so soft, Lord.'
'She is soft,' the Lord agreed,
'but I have also made her tough.
You have no idea what she can endure or accomplish.'

Okay....it was at this stage (while reading) that I realised that this wasn't a joke. It's a chain email that women send to each other when their "head isn't in the right place". Whatever that bollocks means.

At no point was there going to be a mention of how (with only two hands) she carries three-bottles of beer or what the extra opening at the back is for (add your own one liner)

It just goes on and on and on about how lovely woman are. I just wanted to inflict some of my disappointment on the rest of male-kind.

A Scene From RBS This Morning...

Gears of War 2

I played through the single player campaign on GoW2 yesterday, started at 9 in the morning and got finished at 9:30 at night. Including a few breaks I'd say it's a good 10-11 hours worth of game play at the normal difficulty level (keeping in mind that I am a gaming guru and only died maybe once or twice during the whole game). It was very nice to be able to chill out and just enjoy a game instead of worrying about if it's too noisy and all the other crap that is part of.....well you know.

So is it any good? Yes. In fact it's excellent. I'm not going to bang on about the graphics because there are plenty of movie clips online that highlight just how stunning everything looks. It doesn't actually look that different to the first game but then again there wasn't that much they could improve on anyway. Enough to say that detail levels and frame rate are top notch throughtout.

It's also probably not worth going into too much detail on the gameplay either. If you've ever played the first Gears of War then this is exactly the same. Get into cover and pop out shooting is the name of the game throught 80% of the single player mission. There are a couple of nice vehicle style levels to break this up, important if you're going to play it in a monster session like me. But it is very much more of the same as the first.

What makes a game a classic these days isn't so much the graphics or the gameplay (not for FPS games anyway) but rather the story and this is weher GoW2 shines. The whole feel of the game is so much bigger than the first. It starts with a simple mission to defend a hospital but then the story erupts into mankinds fight for survival and one final choice. Attack instead of defend. From that point the game takes you on a roller coaster ride as you play the part of Marc Fenix as he leads Delta Squad to the core to take on the Locust on their home ground. You'll find hints along the way that reveal the very source of the Locust, there are plenty of personal elements as you come across characters from the first game and lose others. You will be very happy and more than a bit relieved when the Cole Train makes his first propper entrace! It's a movie style buzz. Inter twined amongst the main story is also the sub plot of Fenix's best mate Dom and his search for his wife. Whilst unlike a RPG where you get to decide on how the plot unfolds with GoW2 what happens will happen, of course this allows the developers to give it the full movie'esque feel. The game is stuffed with high quality cut scenes (even just taking a lift the camera angles add to the tension) and top notch voice acting. If you like big open feel games then this isn't for you, it is a linear story with high production values.

So are there any week points? Yes. As great as the gameplay is there has obviously been pressure put on the developers to make the single player game longer. About 70% into the game this results in some Halo style levelling. You know the type, lots of rooms the same that need to be cleared. For about an hour the game does become repetitive. I had to step away at this point and have a break. I was very worried that this was how they were going to end the game but thankfully they didn't. The first 70% is a fantastic journey with numerous different situations to fight your way through and the last 15% is the same. It looks like all the creative juice went into these elements and they just strapped on that middle bit to keep the marketers happy. Luckily unlike the first Halo this repetition only last an hour so it's well worth battling through it for the spectacular last few levels.

My only other minor gripe is with the difficulty. This is a common problem with modern games. They make the early levels easy enough to sucker the gamer in but then instead of a gradual difficulty curve they just go "right, try and beat that!" I was flying through it until the last 2 levels where all of a sudden I had to be very careful with ammo and staying in cover a lot more.

So all in all it's an excellent game. If you've got the first then it's a must buy to see how the story continues. At £35 (from Amazon) some might see it as an expensive 10-11 hours of entertainment? When you work it out I think it compares well to any DVD you'd buy plus there's also the small matter of online play. If you enjoy playing a game to see a very entertaining story unravel before you then you'll be struggling to do better than Gears of War 2.

Parents Evening

It's L's parents evening tonight. A chance for all the mums and dads* to go to the school and hear the teachers sprout a load of shit about what changes will be made in upcoming weeks that never actually happen but it makes them feel better like they're providing you as a parent with some feedback on your child's progress. It is in short a fucking great waste of time for all but the parents of naughty little shits, who lets face it don't care anyway and won't turn up. If you want little Johnnies mum and dad to know what a disruptive little fuckwit the kid is then why not just drag them in instead of having the whole school turn up, or is that classed as discrimination these days?

The thing is that both me and wife know how L is doing in school. We look at her homework, we talk to her. It works quite well. Tonight we'll get in from work, rush our tea, spend ages looking for a park. Spend even more time sat in a room on tiny chairs waiting for the form tutor to get around to us (they are always way behind schedule, ALWAYS). Finally he will tell us that L is doing fine, ask us if we have any concerns** and then let us get on our way. It's then a case of trying to navigate the car out of the inevitable cluster fuck of a parking situation. Wouldn't this work better if they just sent home a report (which they do) and if your kid is causing/having problems they have you in to talk about it?

*Do many other dads actually go to these things? I've been to every parents evening L has ever had and there's normally at most 2-3 other blokes there? I know my dad never went to any of mine.

**Of course you're not allowed to say anything at this point. Criticise the teacher and be damned. I'll never ever forget when I brought up how L couldn't read properly. I was then told that when it comes to reading it's not reading the actual words that are there that's important but rather just getting a gist of what the sentence is about. At that point we took it upon ourselves to teach L the art of reading the actual words. That teacher is now a headmistress FFS

Dear Diary

My very first blog started off as a Dear Diary sort of thing, and then a few friends and eventually strangers started reading it. (When I say a few strangers, I really mean 5 or 6; not the dizzy heights that LC & Annie get). So with my new found “fame” I started to embellish by daily scribbles. As they say: Never let the truth get in the way of a good story.

Then I started telling jokes, or at least recycling jokes I found off the internet and writing them as if I was in them and using relatives and friends as subjects. This was HILARIOUS…. At least I thought so, but when the “relatives” found out, they didn’t. Long Story Short: LOADS of Shouting and tears, and no one speaking to me. It took 2 years or so for it to be “forgotten” and never spoken of again.

So this Manx Lads was devised for two reasons, my anonymity from relatives and the fact with 4 of us posting we should get at least a blog a week up. Not that that happens often.

Anyway, as I can’t think of any rants, I am going to revert to my old Dear Diary on a Monday morning. So please ignore these boring posts, but as Civil Service Monkey riding the Gravy Train to retirement it will give me something to do.

Friday Night was the usual “Married with Kids” night. I drank Pear Cider and played Halo with the 4 year old online. Then drank more cider and played cards with the wife.

Saturday morning was the Rugby League World Cup; alas England blew it in the second half, but they have a second chance this week in the semi finals. Mind you, the way Australia are playing I wouldn’t give them much of a chance IF they get through to the final. Saturday afternoon was Rugby Union; with the new look Johnson side. I must admit they looked good. We can’t tell truthfully how well they’ve improved until they come up against the Tri-Nations squads, but the “black three” were excellent.

Then I managed to get some time on my latest Xbox 360 game: Viking. Although very simple, it looks good and the death scenes are excellent. Anyway, it was a tenner on eBay and only has to last till Christmas when I’ll get my hands on Fallout 3. Which is getting excellent reviews; including one that said it was a cross between Duke Nuke ’em, Oblivion & Gears of War. Which is praise indeed.

The evening was rounded off watching Tat on TV (ie X-Factor) and drinking Vodka.

Sunday morning was more Xbox, followed by going to see Igor with the little’un. Trust me, avoid it like the plague. That was pretty much it apart from the obligatory Sunday Roast all washed down with 2 bottles of Red Wine.

After re reading it, it’s just drivel. I won’t summit you to anymore of this as it bored the arse of me and I lived it. Still I’ve wrote this so this one goes up.

Sorry