Thursday, April 24, 2008

Middle Lane Drivers

Middle Lane Morons

"If Lane 1 is the truck lane, and Lane 3 is the BMW-with-front-foglights-on lane, then Lane 2 is that motoring no man's land. The kind of lane where the speeds are neither annoyingly slow nor frighteningly fast. The kind of lane where you can just switch on the cruise control and never have to worry about overtaking, moving over or really doing anything at all. Apart from looking in the glovebox to see if you have enough boiled sweets to last you until Skegness.

Lane 2 is the lane of the average. And as such, it is religiously populated by the kind of ape-brained simpleton who neither has the observation and anticipation needed to make progress in the inside lane or the talent to mingle with the high speed cut and thrust of the outside lane."

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Half Man Half Biscuit Lyric of the Day

"I see you smiling in the morning mist, you’re so exclusive you don’t exist,
But you can’t hide the fact that we used to play naked Twister."

'Ordinary to Enschede' from the CD Single Let's Not.

Sad

I find it really sad when fans of teams take great delight in the mishaps of their rivals, even (or especially) when their rivals are doing better than they are. With that in mind I confess to being really sad at having to post this classic goal from the Ginger Whinger that gladdens my heart (if not the hearts of the Redshite).


Friday, April 18, 2008

Vindaloo

Despite being at least partly the work of the odious Keith Allen, the video for Fat Les's 'Vindaloo' was a parody masterpiece. Of The Verve's 'Bitter Sweet Symphony' as if you didn't know.

The Best HMHB Lyrics Ever?

I thought it was time I posted the complete lyrics for possibly the best HMHB song ever - 'A Country Practice' from the CD Four Lads Who Shook The Wirral. So here goes:


"I feel like a beggar accepting alms, then being pelted with figs.
I study my steadily declining chart placings, they greet me with freezing cold inhospitality.
Hey, where did that bloke go who said I was vital?

I possess the mild air of a retail tobacconist, that’s because I’m a retail tobacconist,
But the mayflies on a Berkshire trout river would probably tell you a different story.
About ham-fisted diadems and momentary daydreams, of mythical dividends and illusory boardroom seats.

In the room festooned with fat beef certificates from county shows,
Duff Leg Bryn had drank too much again. Most of Wem was steering clear of him.
I’ve got no time for this twelfth consecutive Rose Bowl.

‘Cos at Sunday next at ten to four, I’ve got an invitation for
A trip around Katharine Hamnett’s warehouse, followed by dinner with David Emmanuel,
Who I can’t wait to tell about my dream in which the almost illegal Elton Welsby
Is dressed as a french maid on a moonless byway, licking his lips as he creeps ever closer
Fast falls the eventide. Fast falls the eventide

The public appearance of bitter ex-soap stars, who thought they could go on and do other things besides.
The Centre Court amusement at the ballboy’s mishap,
That bobbing up and down thing that they do at the Proms,
Opinionated weather forecasters telling me it’s going to be a miserable day.
Miserable to who? I quite like a bit of drizzle, so stick to the facts.

Channel Four presents “Blowjob”, introduced by Adrian and Sophie Horn
Who is of course one bloke with a pierced dick, who’s just had the nod from Planet 24.
Hear him say “surreal”, “bizarre”, “sad git”, “yes indeedy”, “completely and utterly”, “footy”, “anorak” and “respect” before whipping the audience up into doing the Time Warp.

Watch him take us live to The Queen’s Arse and Firkin,
Where Joseph Bloggs and his amazing Technicolor shellsuit are about to abort their Steely Dan routine,
And instead embark upon fifteen minutes of mantra-filled oompah,
Fifteen minutes of mantra-filled oompah,
Fifteen minutes of mantra-filled oompah.

Adrian-stroke-Sophie wants us, the viewers, to ring in and say how we think the punters will react.

These are a few of my favourite things…

I’m incredibly bored with the word “millennium”,
I’m with the Jehovah’s Witnesses.
Millions now earmarked will later be wasted
"Her Majesty, Marvellous, Mother" the musical.
The fireworks lighting up the Houses of Parliament, death in Trafalgar Square,

Death in the armchair of cliched old spinsters who never been loved.
Every day is Australia day - “Sons and Daughters” and “Home and Away”.
And then the news comes on and the sound goes down,
‘Cos she can’t be bothered with all them politicians -
"They’re all just a bunch of flaming drongos".

She died with her telly on, eighty-seven and confused,
With not enough hospital beds ‘cos all the money’s been used
On the end of the century party preparations
And they reckon that the last thing she saw in her life was
Sting, singing on the roof of the Barbican
Sting, singing on the roof of the Barbican

T for Toxteth, T for Tennessee,
T for Toxteth, T for Tennessee,
T for Thatcher, that girl that made a wreck out of me.

Oh the lady labelled me an idle,
Oh the lady labelled me an idle,
Oh the lady labelled me an idle layabout.
Layabout,
Layabout."

Half Man Half Biscuit Lyric of the Day


"Inside back page, Radio Times, 'My Kind Of Day' with the actors and actresses…
"I get up about six, and I have a cold shower, switch on “Today”, Vitamin C,
Write some letters ’til quarter past eight, when Olivia takes Oliver to school,
It’s about an hour’s drive to Shepperton from ours,
So I go through the scripts in the back of the car
And if I get hungry I’ll eat a Multigrain bar.""

'Soft Verges' from the CD Four Lads Who Shook The Wirral.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Half Man Half Biscuit Lyric of the Day


"Yonder, the deacon, in misguided trousers."

'We Built This Village on a Trad. Arr. Tune' from the CD Achtung Bono.

Thursday, April 10, 2008

Les Miserables

Musicals are not my cup of tea at all - especially ones that are sung all the way through - but I went to an amateur production of Les Miserables tonight as my younger son was playing Gavroche. I have to say that the cast were universally excellent. The guy playing M. Thenardier appeared to have based him on Mick Jagger, which was an interesting conceit! Oh well, if Johnny Depp can do Keef let's give Mick a chance. It's always an interesting experience when one of your kids surprises you with something you didn't know they could do. It's always nicer if it's a pleasant experience and tonight I found that Son No 2 has a talent for singing and acting. He was very good and I have told him so. Tomorrow night is Son No 1's turn as his band, Vox Population, has a gig at DV8 in Preston. I shall be there with a few mates, raising the average age of the crowd by a good thirty years no doubt. Good excuse for a night out too.

Half Man Half Biscuit Lyric Of The Day


"We just got back from Greek isle Kos,
Didn’t see no Vicky Leandros.
We had a 96-track studio,
And it was haunted by a Red Indian."

'Whit Week Malarkey' from the CD Th
is Leaden Pall.


Tuesday, April 08, 2008

Half Man Half Biscuit Lyric of the Day


"Well I’d like to meet Stephenson the engineer,
And I’d like to meet Faraday and buy him a beer,
And I’d love to meet the bloke who had the bright idea of,
Bob Wilson - anchorman."

'Bob Wilson Anchorman' from the EP Editor's Recommendation.

Diana Inquest

So Diana died in a car crash caused to a great extent by a driver, unfamiliar with the type of car and three times over the alcohol limit. Who'd have thought, eh?

Still, I blame the Duke of Edinburgh. Apparently he runs the country, you know. I wonder if Gordon knows? Probably not.

According to Mohamed Al Fayed it was the Secret Services commanded by Phil what dunnit. Jesus, if the best our Secret Services can come up with is a car crash we're in trouble. Not the most predictable assassination method I wouldn't have thought. Maybe a fire. Maybe they were supposed to be in Windsor Castle when that went up. Well, maybe not. That was five years earlier. Still, top marks to the Secret Services for trying.

Speaking of fires I understand the Daily Express spontaneously combusted on hearing the verdict. What headlines can they use now? Maybe the McCanns were involved, has anyone thought of that? Well, Al Fayed, obviously but just wait 'till the Express picks that one up.

Sunday, April 06, 2008

Half Man Half Biscuit Lyric of the Day


"I've just finished decorating, it was very irritating,
And I know they're going to come around tonight,
And I know they're going to say to me tonight -
It makes the room look bigger."

'It Makes The Room Look Bigger' from the EP Saucy Haulage Ballads.

Wednesday, April 02, 2008


John Warburton, up close and personal.





The punters having a great evening.

Vince Atta having fun.


The Right Said Fred tribute band enjoying the show.

Alan on his way to the 'stage'.

John Warburton on the Origin of Surnames

The quality of the picture is poor on the videos but the sound is clear enough.

John Warburton - Brum Accent the Equivalent of A Lazy Eye

For Fox Sake

On the first Tuesday of every month The Fox & Grapes pub in Preston hosts a comedy night. It's free to get in and the entertainment is always top notch, superbly hosted by Alan Donegan. Last night we had two comedians who went down a storm and even managed to deal well with the surreal hecklers from hell in the process. Vince Atta and John Warburton are both from Manchester but provide different types of laughs. Vince riffs off the audience a bit more but John, with his musical talent, is more structured but exceptionally funny. I took some pictures and a couple of short video clips but as they were only on my phone the quality is not great.

If you are anywhere near Preston do yourself a favour and come and support this event. You won't regret it - honestl
y!













Alan, your compere.

Tuesday, April 01, 2008

The Road

I've just finished reading 'The Road' by Cormac McCarthy. It is undoubtedly one of the finest novels I have read in a very long time. It is gripping, emotional, bleak, beautiful, sad, inspiring and many other things too. It is really a tale about every one of us.

It is set in a post-apocalyptic wasteland (no, hang on, come back!) but from that well-used starting point McCarthy constructs a novel of horror and intensity that you will want to finish it in one sitting. The tale is about a nameless father and son slowly making their way through a devastated America to the coast, trying to avoid the thugs on the road. There are many horrific images conjured up but the overwhelming and lasting impression is the love between the father and son and the dilemma the father feels in trying to 'unteach' his son many of the basic morals we take for granted. If you are a parent this book will particularly resonate, and at times I read it with a heavy heart.

The lack of names used throughout the narrative is both depersonalising and extremely personal as the reader can identify even more with the father and son without the burden of seeking meaning or boundaries of names.

It is a constant struggle for the father to retain dignity and keep a grip on nobility but the reader is drawn into this battle and is willing the parent to keep going.

There is not a lot of light in the book - it is almost relentlessly bleak, although one or two moments do shine with optimism and hope. This is such an intense read but the result is an astonishing achievement. This is the first of McCarthy's novels I have read but I shall certainly be seeking out others following my enjoyment of this one.

I cannot recommend it highly enough.

Half Man Half Biscuit Lyric of the Day


"There's a man with a mullet going mad with a mallet in Millets."

'National Shite Day' from the forthcoming CD CSI: Ambleside.