Friday, March 21, 2008

Domestic violins

It’s 12.30am and he is screaming and hollering like a loon in the moonlight. Earplugs are reached for and weary heads sneak under pillows, others make love louder and harder, anything to drown out the dreadful noise of the rowdy neighbours' late night domestic.

It’s a regular deal for them and everyone in yelling distance lets them get on with it as he is the sort of guy who could just turn psycho and follow you to work if you interrupted him mid-domestic. He’s lean and ripped like a middleweight, good looking until he opens his mouth to let the swear words form. His body almost shakes when he walks as if the hate inside is fighting to get out.

She gives as good as she gets. I’ve heard her before yelling out the window at builders. 'You bastards! I want my f***ing money. I want my f***ing money.' 'I want my f***ing' the council house mantra. Her emotional pendulum always swinging between rage and tears.

Usually ends up with the police being called (by the builders, bemused or antagonised) and her pulling the old weepy woman routine – though she is anything but. She asks her man to take the rubbish out and locks the door. Throws his clothes out of a window in the rain. Pisses in his drink when he is too hammered to notice (or so she claims). Slams doors all through the night to underline her rage. Munch's 'Scream' on a loop for eternity.

And so she and her man are strangely made for each other – equal in their shared bile and devilishment. We are just the poor sods who have to listen.

Friday, March 14, 2008

Doctor No

You better not contract the Ebola Virus on a Saturday. You won’t find a doctor anywhere. They are carving pheasant in rustic kitchen stroke dining areas, their perfect families looking on with expectant, hungry eyes. So don't fall ill at the weekend, your doctor always has something better to do.

Forget logging onto the internet and browsing the medical message boards for consolation – because, before long, you will be convinced you are about to die. Do not heed the warnings of international hypochondriacs…they will terrify you with their tales of medical malpractice and mysterious boils that go pop in the night.

It happened to Darrel from Maryland and it could happen to you. His right bollock dropped out of his hiking shorts while he was hillwalking. It was last seen heading south to Dixie pursued by three hicks in a blue Chevy pick-up truck. They don’t like strangers or stranger’s parts in them, there parts.

It’s Saturday night and you really don’t fancy waiting four hours in A&E with all the drunks and other hypochondriacs so you are going to have to gut it out until emergency surgery on Monday. Right now Death is sitting on your sofa, his skeletal hand rustling a packet of munchies as he peruses the latest Paris Match. He’s in no hurry, he can afford to wait a few minutes. You have just enough time to hum Jamiroquai’s…’We’re too young to die’ and send a few goodbye texts. Just don’t drink and dial. You may live to face the consequences.

Saturday, March 8, 2008

Daft Vorder

Carol Vorderman can correctly identify a vowel or a consonant. She can also do times-tables to a very high standard. This means that when she says all your problems will disappear with a quick and easy £20,000 loan….you should listen!

She’s not doing it for the money. She’s doesn’t want to see people who have fallen on hard times slip further into arrears and destitution. She is here to help. Not got enough money for a cab home….don’t worry, Carol will….hook…you….up!

A loan solves everything! Just ask Gordon Brown!

[Telephone rings] ‘Managing Director of Northern Rock here….you know, the Geordie bank….got a bit of a problem, Gord.’ ‘Okay MD, you’re on speakerphone. What’s that, Darling?’ [High pitched voice, very excited, interrupts] ‘How about a loan! A really big one!’ ‘What a marvellous idea! Pay it back when you like! I love rescuing failed business vehicles.’

Hey desperate, or easy-to-con, homeowners! Don’t worry! If you own a house, you can be as financially reckless as you like! You should release the money that’s ‘tied up’ in your home. What’s it doing in there, silly? You should get lypo! Botox for the kids! Life’s magic with a loan!!!!

[Concerned man fumbles in his wallet at a bar]. ‘I’m sorry I don’t have enough money. Wait, there’s Carol Vorderman! Excuse me, Carol, can you lend me a fiver?’



Sunday, March 2, 2008

Download Knightley's pancakes

DVD piracy has nothing to do with Johnny Depp mugging like Keith Richards and Keira Knightley pushing up her corset and hoping for the best.

If you download or purchase a pirate DVD you threaten the livelihood of billion dollar corporations. Thanks to you, the super-rich will no longer be able to buy townhouses in Hampstead or rent a small West Indian island for their wedding vows. It’s a terrifying thought.

If you believe the propaganda spun before every film, obtaining a pirate DVD transforms someone with time on their hands into a modern day Kray. All us squares who pay around £20 for a DVD (they cost about a penny to make) are forced to sit through some pretty laughable fear-mongering. You can wave your remote control all you want….the DVD does not permit you to fast forward.

One such insight involves a morbidly obese blacksmith (because pirating makes you fat) branding illicit DVDS with a hot poker. Is this how DVDs are pirated? I thought they just connected two DVD players with a scart lead. Looks dangerous. Let’s hope they have the appropriate accident insurance. Otherwise someone might call Injury-lawyers- 4-U.

Obviously you or I have purchased or rented our DVD so they are preaching to the converted. No self-respecting pirater would duplicate this drivel. Maybe the answer is to make DVDs affordable rather than labelling those who download or buy pirates as the next Tony Soprano (Subliminal message: Seires tsal eht daolnwod).