Get off your back, go into Town, don't let them down.....

Well, I don't know if its because I'm almost fully into holiday mode, or because things have happened at work and time is a bit tight (for once) but I am finding it difficult to write anything at the moment. However, I didn't want to just piss off for 3 weeks and leave this blog on the work of art posting, but I also didn't want to write anything more "absolute shite" than normal. (Note to Watski.....I reckon it was my site that bought down Google on the search for "absolute shite" but after thinking about it I realised it was a search on "total bollocks" that probably did it as Google tried to divert millions to this little corner).

So, this posting is a bit of filler really until the light bulb in my head is once again illuminated. A case of GrocerJack going into town, in order to not let them down. Anyone who knows what I'm referring to there listened to too much Junior Choice on Radio 1 in the 70's and is giving their age away!

My cunning plan to beat Teenager in our Theme Park Ride Stare Out competition is almost finalised and runs along these lines. She is a Teenager and has transmigrated from sweet natured little girl into a full on lippy girl power, boy mad, MSN addicted, shite music infatuated daughter. The upside of this is I no longer have to put up with the twee bollocks rubbish she used to like. Not for her the childlike attraction of seeing Donald Duck (who wears no trousers normally but wears a towel when seen coming out of the bath!), Mickey Mouse and Goofy et al. No, she has "grown out" of that. Now that she has a sense of adventure and wants her thrills "on the edge" I think I have found a ride ahe will not go on. One that she would not entertain in a million years.

The one ride I know that is incredibly twee and sweet is called "Its a Small World". I have been warned about this by colleagues at work. It is saccharin sweet, sickly schmaltzy, completely safe and very slow and has a loudly played repetitive theme tune that is so unbelievably annoying and cloying that its very possible that Kurt Cobain may have been listening to this sometime before he blew his brains out trying to stop the song incessantly repeating inside his head. I am sure she will not go near this, but I may just enter this "torture by sweetness" chamber and suffer the sheer hell of the tune and the sweetness and faux sincerity in order to be able to state that I found one ride that she would not go on! I may go mad of course...I may want to drill holes in my head to let the noise out, or rip my ears off with a blunt rusty Coke Can ring, but thats what being a Dad is about, taking the chances in order to prove that I am not yet ready to move over for the Usher/50 Cent/Arsebollocks ShiteMusic generation.

Smart plan huh?

What do you think?

Just a quick note on Sven Fuckwit before I leave this posting. Sack the fool because he is an incompetent, spineless and tactically inept coach. But not because he screwed some airhead secretary who was working her way through the hierarchy of the FA, presumably until she found her favourite outfield position. I don't rate him as I have documented previously, but football managers should be sacked for footballing reasons not because of a few shags or inappropriate comments. Besides that, he isn't married and was prospectively only unfaithful to his girlfriend, the lovely Nancy Dell'Olio. But as far as I am aware you do not take any vows to co-habit or date so what did he do wrong? Mind you if a balding, rather dull, bespectacled bloke like him can get so lucky, where the hell did I go wrong?

Later, GrocerJack