Blogs
Never Mind The Bloggers
An blog from the Waterfront's Pete Hayman
Hello Sir!
- 05 Mar 2007 20:00
I am quite aware that it has been a while since my last blog entry detailing my fears about all things badger-related. And to be honest, I didn't really know where my creativity would take me too next - maybe I've peaked too early? So fully expect this week's thrilling instalment to be a disappointing affair with all the charm of a pissed newt.
Watching reruns of Have I Got News For You is always rewarding.
I see the sun has been rising every day again. A policy that needs reviewing? Perhaps. Although it would be nice to see the big yellow thing in the sky more than once a week in Swansea.
I'm not sure who decided motorway signs should be blue, but I hope they got a knighthood. It's a nice blue, like your eyes. Lovely.
From dispair to ware?
- 24 Feb 2007 22:00
Well here we are, the long-awaited third instalment of the world's least unique blog, and you'll be glad to know that the badgers have left me alone. I just took away their giros. Who's laughing now?
Anyway, the first point I need to call attention to is Fall Out Boy. Why can't they pronounce any of their lyrics properly? Everyone must've seen the parody of "Sugar We're Goin' Down" on YouTube by now. Although both versions (from what I've seen) aren't exactly that good, nor are they side-splittingly funny, the point they make is, well, true. Take their new single for example. "Dis aint a seeeen..." - and they go on to talk about arse-racing apparently. I've not seen the song-title, I may be wrong.
Next point of order - Russell Brand. Pack it in.
Finally, isn't it amazing how impotent Britain becomes in any sort of adverse weather? I'm led to believe that the official guidelines for dealing with a bit of snow is to shut everything down as early as possible, abandon your cars in the least convenient location for other motorists, and then jam up the mobile networks to tell your loved ones "it's snowing, I'm staying in Runcorn tonight." I mean, come on, when I need to phone someone to tell them to meet me in JCs because I want/need a drink, I don't expect to be locked out from the network by travelling salesmen using the weather as a reason to stay in shitty provincial outposts. If the world had ended on Friday 9 February, what would the British response be? "I'm terribly sorry old bean, but we're utterly bollocksed by the weather. Could you, er, maybe come back another day what?"
"Dis aint a seeeen, it's a gaaa daaaa arse race"
Part Two
- 29 Jan 2007 08:15
Pete Hayman