A friend alerted me to this video through Facebook. It nearly finished me off I was laughing so hard. I’m sure the man was channelling Samuel L Jackson when he went on his rant. There’s so much I could say, but I’ll just let the vid speak for itself. I warn you now: the industrial language is heavy. If you’re easily offended, don’t go any further. For the rest of you, have a hanky ready to wipe away the tears and then make your comments – if you manage to breathe again.
Archive for the ‘Rant’ Category
I heard this week that Westminster council are planning to put out 25 bins that speak with encouraging words when you put litter in it. It’s a campaign in partnership with Keep Britain Tidy and Sing London, which will run for two months, starting October. But these are not any old talking bins, dear reader. Oh ho, no. Like sat navs before it, these bins will be voiced by British celebrities such as actress Amanda Holden and ex-cricketer Phil Tufnell. There will be some singing bins featuring opera and Abba(?), but it’s the celebrity voice that we’re all supposed to be excited about.
To the idiots who set Tottenham on fire last night.
I hope you enjoy the Nike trainers, PCs and mobile phones you looted from shops. I hope you enjoy the nice warm feeling that comes from torching buses, cars and businesses. The smaller businesses in particular were not set up to push their riches in your face: they were the result of hard work by the people who owned them. And they served a community. It was probably all they had. I hope you feel deep joy at the domino effect, which comes from burning down the flats above the shops, making people homeless. I hope you enjoyed the stupid machismo that spurred you to threaten and attack firemen for having the temerity to try and do their job, putting out fires you started. But most of all, I hope you are very proud of yourselves, because a peaceful protest from family and friends trying to get answers as to why their loved one was shot by the police three days ago and is now in a box, has been hijacked by opportunistic, lowlife scum like you. And the good people of Tottenham (yes, there are some, in spite of your best efforts) are once again scarred and stained.
Oh, by the way, just in case you continue to tell yourself your actions have no consequence and basically don’t give a damn, read this from a friend of mine who actually lives there:
I know every building that has gone, some were grade-listed beauties. I know the people who now have no jobs or income in my local shops. I now can’t buy my sons favourite things for his packed lunch in Aldi or chat to the kind man in the post office who prints off my photos. The elderly can’t pay their bills nearby, the unemployed can’t sign on tomorrow. The solicitors with people case folders has gone. The shops have been boarded up for the night ahead.
Happy days to you, good sirs and madams. Happy days.
I was sitting at my mac the other evening writing something for this blog, when I heard a familiar song on the TV. I turned around, expecting to see the video of They Might Be Giant’s Birdhouse In Your Soul, which always makes me smile. Instead, the vision that accompanied my song was an advert – for children’s shoes. NOOOOOOOO! I nearly catapulted myself to casualty, tripping on the rug while running as fast as I could to turn the sound down. After many years of pleasure gained from this wonderfully quirky song, I was not going to have it associated with a TV advert, for crying out loud. There’s more…