this is me

this is me
this is me

Monday, 29 November 2010


went to my local last night with a good mate,(paul dudge) chewed the fat, had a few beers. he recalled the time he got his leg broke outside, and said, guess the year? i took a stab at 2000, it was 99. it was also my finest hour, well one of them.

i had gone to pick the wife up, who had been out with pauls misses.on arrival, i was told there had been trouble, i had noticed several guys waiting around outside, but never gave it any thought.

inside was paul, 9/10 streetfighter,lee9/10 and about a dozen of our friends with a mean average of 5/10 streetfighting abilities. then there's me, above 9, not quite the time i had sunk two pints, there were 10 to guys outside, and it was time to make our move. i had gone out alone, to access the situation with the landlord, when i went back into the pub, i asked for the jukebox to be switched off, and told everyone to listen.

there was no doubt, it was gonna kick off, i explained, the girls must stay inside at all costs, i told the guys, we all go out together, no one runs, and we will be fine. at that point, dudges taxi arrived, a seen as he was bladder ed, i thought it was ok for him and his wife to leave.thats when it all kicked off. they attacked from both sides, as soon as we went outside, they punched everyone, the women got targeted(the ones i told to stay inside)dudge was punched to the ground, in the centre of the road, lee fought a good fight, but i was sober, and on fire. i took three out in the first 20 seconds, then jumped on 2 lads that had hold of my wife and dianne, the 2 drunk and gobby wifes.

i did not wait for the second wave, i ran right at them, roundhouse after roundhouse, the fight seemed to last for ages, but in reality, no more than 2 minutes. paul was screaming in the centre of the road, i booted one lad in the head, and elbowed another, and like a scene from saving private ryan, dragged my wounded mate to the side of the road, all the time taking hits, on his behalf.

the police turned up, as per usual, when the fight was over, wankers. the ambulance took dudge, we all knew it was bad, but hey? lee fought well, as did my wife and dianne, the dozen or so 5/10 ers, all ran out the back of the pub, over the toilet wall. i shall never forgive them,if only they had helped out, dudge would never have had that triple fracture, and six months off work.

a few broken knuckles,black eyes and a sore rib is all i suffered, the cowards will suffer forever


How creepy do you want it?

The famously eerie tale of nine dead Russian hikers, with all the bizarre details you can handle

By Mark Morford, SF Gate Columnist

I admit only to this: I can get deeply creeped out, down to my very core, now and then and hopefully not all that often because, well, I still like to sleep at night.
Personally, I try to keep the creep to a minimum, not really wishing to dive down into that low, dark vibration much and hence I avoid most horror movies like the plague and I find slasher flicks and "torture porn" revolting and ridiculous and while monster flicks can occasionally be fun and thrilling, they're mostly just a cheap roller-coaster rides supplying no real nourishment of any kind. I know, that's not really the point. But still.
Ah, but the occult. The paranormal. The deeply weird, mysterious, unsolvable, disturbing. That can get to me. That has power. A good, deep creep-out, those unknowable things that get under your skin and crawl around and tug at the shirtsleeves of your fears, well, those are the things can last for years. Lifetimes. I love that. I hate that.
The final shot in "The Blair Witch Project." An oozingly possessed Linda Blair crawling down the stairs on all fours, upside down, backwards, in a full backbend, on her toes and fingertips, in the uncut version of "The Exorcist." The ending to (and overall creepy feel of) "Don't Look Now," the famous cult horror movie from the '70s with Donald Sutherland and Julie Christie and the creepy little midget in the red robe. Peter Weir's "Picnic at Hanging Rock," another classic '70s occult flick, chaste schoolgirls disappearing up a bizarrely haunted mountain — entirely fictional, but plays all too damn real.
But still, they're just movies. Fiction, mostly. No matter how good they are, they all kneel before the one true god of interminable creepiness: reality.
Here's one. It's called the
Dyatlov_pass_accident . Oh my God, yes. I stumbled over this delicious tale just recently over at Metafilter and it's one of those stories that contains all the best elements of a deep, resonant creep-out. Inexplicable behavior. Bizarre factoids. Inconclusive evidence. Missing body parts. And not a single clue, almost 50 years later, as to what really happened.
The nutshell: In 1959, nine experienced Russian cross-country skiers — seven men and two women, led by a man named Igor Dyatlov — headed to the Ural Mountains, to a slope called Kholat Syakhl (Mansi language for "Mountain of the Dead," ahem) for a rugged, wintry trek. On their way up, they are apparently hit by inclement weather and veer off course and decide to set up camp and wait it out. All is calm. All is fine and good. They even take pictures of camp, the scenery, each other. The weather is not so bad. They go to sleep.
Then, something happens. In the middle of the night all nine suddenly leap out of their tents as fast as possible, ripping them open from the inside (not even enough time to untie the doors) and race out into the sub-zero temps, without coats or boots or skis, most in their underwear, some even barefoot or with a single sock or boot. It is 30 degrees below zero, Celsius. A few make it as far as a kilometer and a half down the slope. All nine, as you might expect, quickly die.
And so it begins.

Why did they rush out, unable to even grab a coat or blanket? What came at them? The three-month investigation revealed that five of the trekkers died from simple hypothermia, with no apparent trauma at all, no signs of attack, struggle, no outward injuries of any kind. However, two of the other four apparently suffered massive internal traumas to the chest, like you would if you were hit by a car. One's skull was crushed. All four of these were found far from the other five. But still, no signs of external injuries.
Not good enough? How about this: One of the women was missing her tongue. Oh, it gets better. And weirder.

Tests of the few scraps of clothing revealed very high levels of radiation. Evidence found at the campsite indicates the trekkers might've been blinded. Eyewitnesses around the area report seeing "bright flying spheres" in the sky during the same months. And oh yes, relatives at the funeral swear the skin of their dead loved ones was tanned, tinted dark orange or brown. And their hair had all turned completely gray.
Wait, what?
The final, official explanation as to what caused such bizarre behavior from otherwise well-trained, experienced mountaineers? An "unknown compelling force." Indeed.
Here's the problem: All the convenient, logical explanations — avalanche, animal attack, secret military nuke test — fail. Russian authorities held a three-month investigation. Rescuers, experts picked through every piece of evidence. There were no signs of natural disaster. And if it was just an avalanche, why was the area closed off for three years following the event, and all related documents put in a secret Russian archive until 1990? If it was some sort of weird nuclear megablast (which I suppose may tint you orange, but won't turn your hair gray), what the hell happened to her tongue?
I love stories like this. I hate stories like this.

Sure, you want to go for the logical. Hell, who knows what hellish weaponry they were testing in the mountains in Khrushchev's Russia in the late '50s? Who knows what dark mysteries are buried in the landscape by the world's militaries as they test their dark deeds? The rule goes like this: Any weapon of horror and death man's mind can conceive, odds are gruesomely good the government or military has considered it. Or even built it.
Then again, maybe not. The "horrifying military experiments" theory, spawn of a thousand movies and conspiracy theories, has one fatal flaw: proof. What, 75 years of high-tech military advances and hundreds of billions of dollars spent and a million people working in various sinister branches of the military, and yet not one scrap of truly bizarre or outrageous military weaponry has popped up in the public sphere, been leaked or revealed or unearthed? This is the Internet/YouTube/nothing's-secret age — you'd think we'd get at least one piece of irrefutable evidence proving how the Pentagon has been testing 10-story remote-controlled radioactive spiders with lasers for eyes. Or something. Not that I trust the government, per se. They just aren't that smart.
This is both the joy and horror of stories like Dyatlov — they make your mind jump and bend and struggle. Logic fails quickly. Easy explanations don't work. Complicated ones feel incomplete. The creepiness takes hold, begins to burrow, make you squirm.
So of course, you jump further. You reach for the paranormal, metaphysical, unknowable, to things like UFOs and spirits and ghosts, dark forces and mysticism and the occult, because, well, that's where the action is. That's where we get to touch the void, dance on the edge of perception, realize how little we truly know of anything.
After all, if you really think all there is to this world is what your five senses show you, if you think there's always got to be a logical, earthbound explanation for stories like Dyatlov, well, you might as well just join a megachurch and wipe your brain and your intuition and your deep, dark curiosity clean right now. As Dyatlov himself might say, his skin orange and hair gray and eyes wide wide wide, you think you know, but you have no idea.

Thursday, 25 November 2010


spurs are 67/1 on oddschecker, and if i were the odds compiler, i would think about these points.

trouble in the camp,wilkins departure has upset certain people, i get the feeling of disharmony.drog miss fires,injury to lampard/terry/essien. if they lose 2/3 more games, they are in trouble.
fergie is an amazing manager, but utd have, over the years had a solid back four,and this season, through injury,and failier to buy, they are weak. the rest of the team hardly reak of superstars, fletcher/carrick/hernandez/park. then there is the primadonna that is rooney,and the over the hills,gigs,scholes.
hodgson is a plonker, they will be lucky to make the top 10
wengers refusal to buy a superstar, is becoming tedious. its all well and good doing it his way, but he aint frank sinatra. i also worry about the training regime at the emerites, and why there are so many injuries.i arsen had just bought a????? kaka or a tevez and given the younger players something to aspire to, but no. great finding players like chamak/vermalen and nurturing the youth, wiltshire etc. but that wont win titles imo
harry is one of the best in the world for me,what he achieved at west ham, on no money for all those years, was a miracle.if i had the chance, i would tell him, get out of all the cup comps now, and go for it. how many spurs players would get into the above teams?well? a fit woodgate/king maybe, modric would be ideal for arsenal, defoe can bang um in, as can pav/keane and crouch. then the cream, vdv/bale would both walk into any of them.if harry bought a couple of decent guys in jan, it could happen
i am a rovers fan, but have always admired spurs, its just an idea, ready for your attacks

Wednesday, 24 November 2010

its all about control

called into town today, only to find another branch of santander appear. we now have 3 in blackburn. the bird on the counter explained(with a glint in her eye) yes, we want one on every corner,just like starbucks, hehehehehehehe. what a thick cunt.she said, they had took over alliance and leisester and bradford and binkley, good aint it?

no it is not.............

monopoly after monopoly, its so sad.banks,petrol,supermarkets to name a few, they are slowly becoming one. this takes away our freedom,please dont lol

Monday, 22 November 2010

traffic warden

at 12.04 pm a traffic warden took a photo of my car. i know from experience, he will be back at 1.04pm. i also know, it takes approximately 2.5 minutes to make a ticket out. i need to time this to perfection,if i leave the flat at 1.05pm exactly, i will be able to see the look on his face, when i drive away, and he has a half done fine!i love this game, have been caught out once though,i was longer in the toilet than expected, it cost me. 12-1 to me, which aint bad. should i still be doing this?

marriage vows

iminent divorce, has made me reflect on my wedding vows. did i say them just to keep her happy? did i mean them at the time, did she? i think not. you know the one i mean, for richer,for better and in health. i know people tweek vows, wish i had. marriage and vows should be for life, these days, thats not true. sad really in a way, but another example of how the dominant species are asserting their power.

Tuesday, 2 November 2010

my bets

my bets for tonight
bury/chesterfield/valencia/werder brem/brighton
£4 four folds/£4 acc=£24 pays £180
£15 win on each.


bury-brighton-mk dons treble
hereford-chesterfield-bury-southampton yankee