Funny Old Week

A bit tardy on the posting front I'm afraid but that's down to a lack of time due to complete mental fuckwittery at work and to some degree at home as we prepare for the invasion that is Christmas. I mean that in the nicest sense of course as it's quite a compliment to be the host for the family, well Hellsbells family anyway. My own family , Skank and Dave , seem quite happy to do their own thing and who knows, maybe we'll meet up at some point, or maybe not. Laziness seems to be the driver here. So, the tree is up, the decorations up, the present bought and wrapped, we're now manoeuvring to the launch pad, ready for lift off at some point from Saturday onwards.

Saturday is the "locals night" at The Pub, but one fears for the numbers turning up as since the Governor jumped ship to his new pub, the fortunes of my local have severely nosedived. The former Governor left because he couldn't work for the new owners, Fullers, after they bought out the local brewery Gales. Fullers themselves used to be a smaller brewery but have long since forgotten their roots and now act like a real true corporate trampling over local culture and running the pub on a single business "one size fits all" basis. The first mistake was installing a misery guts relief couple with no concept of regulars. Then failing to refurbish the pub despite it being last done 12 years ago. The couple who took over then had to work under an environment whereby the pub was boycotted by groups such as cricket clubs and "beaters" who used to use it. A same because despite being an 'orrible Gooner the governor is a bloody decent landlord. The upshot is that he has been forced out by the brewery for under performance, so no doubt we'll get some high flying couple in there concentrating on "food" and maximising revenue streams etc without giving a shit about the regulars. Actually, that makes us regulars a bit like football fans doesn't it?

I have a "man cold" which is fucking my chest and throat up and giving me a permanent headache. It's genuine as well so go on , mock away. Perhaps this is why we get little sympathy.

Man Cold Video

Arsenal beat my beloved Chelsea yesterday, but to be honest after they got rid of the best coach in the world in September it has hardly come as a surpise that we are now struggling to beat the big boys. It seems the press have got what they wanted, the Man Utd/Arsenal duopoly. You can almost taste the relief in the papers now that the interlopers of Chelsea have no great relevance.

Lastly - todays song in my head is

Lynsey de Paul and "Sugar Me" - I've seen the consultant and am administering a strong dose of The Pogues in order to eradicate it.

Later, GrocerJack

Grocer, Grocer, give us a song!

I wrote some time ago about the “song in my head” syndrome that I suffer from. As a gentle reminder of this syndrome, it’s effectively a condition that means when I get into work, or on a golf course, or anywhere really I have always got some sort of song in my head for the day that just will not go away. Sometimes it lasts a day, sometimes longer. The longest period is around 5 days because at some point I’ve forced myself to listen to some good tunes in order to drive the bad one away.

It’s a bit like the immune system for the body – the good tunes act like white blood cells or an antidote attacking the bad tunes, which are like viruses or poison. The bad tunes debilitate you or you adapt to them until at some point you take the action of treatment because you simply can’t take anymore.

Sometimes it’s more complicated than that and you need to administer the cure in increasing levels of tune greatness. It’s no good dousing something truly awful like “Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time”” with a classic like “Always in the Kitchen at Parties” by Jonah Lewie. No, that sort of piss poor song needs heavier and more prolonged treatment such as side one of Led Zeppelin IV to truly eradicate the virus. In fact as I get older I find the treatment required is getting more and more prolonged, as if the virus of the bad song is adapting and getting even stronger. Only last week (sorry a busy week so no time to blog) I had to administer the whole of Made in Japan, the supreme Deep Purple live album in order to eradicate the alternating “The Boat That I Row” by Lulu (yep…I have no idea why that was in my head either) and the abysmal Karma Chameleon by washed up bitter old queen Boy George and his band Culture club.

What also worries me is the insidious way these shite tunes find their way in to my head. How do they get there? I mean I would never listen to them willingly and I rarely, if ever listen to any music radio, barring Virgin Classic Rock or Planet Rock, anymore. I may occasionally take in XFM but none of these would play this sort of crap and deliberately infect my ears and brain. It’s liken having safe sex, I only listen to “safe” radio stations or listen to my preferred tracks on my MP3 or PC – all of which act like musical condoms in a world of growing risk from musical viral infection.

I am therefore left with some conclusions on how this rotten crap gets in there.

1.) Someone is surreptitiously playing the tunes whilst I am asleep and they are being subliminally planted.

2.) Aliens are beaming them direct in to my head

3.) They are being regurgitated from drunken nights in the past

4.) I am going mad

So what do you think? Any cures that are guaranteed? Here are some examples of recent piss poor tunes that have tortured me until a healthy dose of Pink Floyd, Classic 70’s music or some down and dirty Green Day was administered.

The Boat that I Row – Lulu (is it me or does she look better now than ever)

Come What May – Vicky Leandros (A Eurovision winner from the 70’s apparently)

Patches by Clarence Carter (dear God how bad can one song be)

Angels by Robbie Tosspot Williams (music to kill yourself to)

The Floral Dance – Some stupid fucking Brass Band from somewhere up north

Mellow Yellow – Donovan

The Fast Food Song – God only knows what sadistic bastard wrote and performed this

The Final Countdown – Coiffured Euro-ponces called Europe

Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time – Paul McCartney gets everything he deserves from Heather Mills just for this garbage alone.

Chain Reaction – Michael Jackson….sorry Diana Ross…hard to tell these days

Mistle-bastard-Toe and Wine – The Archangel Sir Cliff of Colostomy

Firestarter – Prodigy (seriously try listening to this anywhere but a club whilst on E and it is surely just hideous noise)

And today’s special…………which will no doubt have to undergo so Radiohead treatment very soon…………Seven Seas by the Goombay Fucking Dance Band….I mean really, where the hell has that come from?

Later, Grocerjack