Lazy blogging

I’m so lazy I even nicked the post title from Rikaitch. This was posted on NUFC.com and they ripped it from The Times. I just like it. It’s well-written and sums up how I feel about St James’ Park as well. Shame Gaby’s already taken. I’m sure we’d be great together *sigh*

TV Presenter Gabby Logan writing in The Times on Friday about her admiration for the new Wembley but her adoration of a ground closer to home:

On Monday, while watching the live action in the afternoon for Match of the Day, I was sitting alongside Alan Shearer.

When the teams walked out for Newcastle v Arsenal there was a fantastic camera angle that showed the stadium from what felt like a single blade of grass, looking up to the Gods.

“Now that’s a coliseum,” Shearer pined. He didn’t need to tell me — St James’ Park is up there with the Bernabéu and the Nou Camp for atmosphere and grandeur.

There was a survey of Premiership fans a few years ago and, when asked which was their favourite away ground, 18 out of 19 said Newcastle’s. Sunderland were in the Premiership at the time so I’ll let you guess which set of supporters dissented.

St James’ Park also has the enviable characteristic of being truly a city stadium. You can walk to the train station and the bars, restaurants and hotels in five minutes.

That doesn’t just mean you can be sitting in a swish watering hole 15 minutes after the final whistle enjoying a glass of something chilled, it means that in the build-up to the match the whole town knows that there is a game of football on, and as you come out of the shops on Northumberland Street you can hear the roar when a goal is scored.

Of course I am biased. They are my team and I cut my teeth doing postmatch interviews on the touchline there, getting to the ground before the players, seeing the place become the Theatre of Hope and Expectation, if not Dreams.

I will always love it — I can understand why people have their ashes spread on the pitch and why fans arrive at the ground three hours early. It’s possible to appreciate other stadiums, for sure, but you’ll only really ever love one.

Vista – first attempt

I “used” Vista for the first time yesterday. Norton Internet Security was doing its usual trick on a friend’s laptop (i.e. completely preventing internet access – secure, admittedly, but annoying). I disabled it, popped on Windows Firewall… and then found that no major “free” firewall software yet works with Vista. Hey ho.

Vista *looks* good, but a) software compatibility is lousy, b) hardware compatibility is lousy as you’ve discovered and c) it does everything that XP does, it just needs twice the hardware to do it and make it look pretty at the same time. So what’s the point?

And another "**** off" to another spammer

I just got the following from some muppet via the contact link on this blog:

‘My name is Camila Parker.
I saw your blog and I found it very interesting.
So, what do you think about our collaboration?
I believe it would be great to exchange blogs!
My blog is: http://cigarettesxxxxxxxxx.blog.com
Wait for your reply.
Good day
Camila Parker.’

Obviously, I’ve deleted part of the blog name. Suffice to say it was a shitload of pro-smoking ***** about how cool smoking is with links to places you could buy cigars and fags from. Oh, and the English is crap.

*sigh*

Camila Parker probably doesn’t exist. The email address listed most likely will bounce or sign me up to (more) spam. But on the off-chance you’re looking for a link to your blog, Ms Parker, don’t bother.

**** off.

Shitty response

I got this message through the contacts link a while ago and have only just gotten around to doing something with it. It’s a response to Floaters from way back in January.

If for no other reason than the effort that has gone into it, I felt it deserved being posted. Also, I’m a lazy **** and haven’t come up with much new to post by myself recently…

To Mosher –
Splendid descriptive monologue of encounter with King Of All Poop. I have no wish to marginalize your horrific experience, however I believe I can, nay have had encounter with LORD of All Poop. I recently travelled Northwards into hithertofore unbeknownst (to me) land of Arctic Sun (Norway). Having been challenged most vocally with local ale-house patron as to the vicinity of nearest legal bum-relievement podule, I was (mis)directed towards a crepuscular shack which had dubious vapours emanating from it.

Unperturbed by an upwards creeping sense of foreboding, and a requirement not unlike your own (31st Jan), I entered aforementioned shanty-shed. O my golly-gosh, and (so forth) – a hole in the ground thinkest thou? nay my mate; an unimaginably LONG turd, the likes of which even the Creator of All Time And Space would observe with reverence HUNG resplendant before me on an iron spigot!. O but the True Horror was as yet haply to be revealed… there, upon the dingy floor was an EVEN longer brethren of Turd of all Turds… by all that is to be revered I swear, THIS log (were it of human origin?) was of BIBLICAL dimension.

A 16 inch snapper, i jest you not. Hey ho thinks I, Digital Camera Proof… and then the World be astonished as I were. Not to be. O no, just as my brain be thinking this artifact MUST be of Alien origin (or at the very least, Mutated Mountain Person Muck), AND whilst my frozen kex are riding into worlds of (to me) agonizing unbeknownst sub-zero terror, previous mentioned aboriginal ‘bar-keep’ have come striding into previosly stated hovel. In bemusement I watch as this Trogloditic character picks up Still steaming Megaplop off of the floor and hangs it up next to its cousin…?

Arugh! scream what is left of my sanity (belief temporarily suspended – no pun intended), and, iced-up to tea-towel holder kex or not I SWIFTLY engage in most rapid exit. I have no unliking for the Scandinavians, truth be I get on quite well with most, this MUST be an horrific nightmare out of world of Lovecraft… It IS not.

So whilst back gate screaming at me to let brown bear out NOW, I depart most swiftly as I am able to… leave behind (pun un-implied) most ALL backpack kit and negotiate down to ‘civilization’ whilst icy choco-poop threateans imminent arrival… Phew! whilst enroute to town proper, enter treeline and Blessed Be! Kex come down as fast as squirrel nutkin and Ordinary poop reveals himself.

All I have left to say is ‘Deliverance’? – bolox, I have SEEN the anatomy of TRUE grovelling horror and its existence upon this blue marble planet!
Regards,
Toejamonbread