Crying For Christmas

Crying For Christmas

Merry Christmas to one and all!

Or apparently not, this year – because it looks like everybody wants you to have a fucking cry.

Cute isn’t enough for this festive season – we need a good dose of empathetic misery.

John Lewis released their TV advert this week featuring a penguin who gets all lonely and the boy keeping him gets him an, err, female penguin for Christmas. (then someone sits there with two toy penguins reenacting their penguin porno – but we won’t get into that!)

Sainsburys have gone for the angle with soldiers.  Aww!  Have a quick cry!

M&S soon followed, and the Coke advert, although I haven’t seen it myself, no doubt features cancer, or something.  And, it’s not ‘The Holidays’, you tits.

Have you seen the newest one?  There’s a car crash and someone loses their leg and both eyes, but some cunt buys them a bag of frosted gingerbread from Lidl and a troop of gibbons sits somberly in their own shit around a dying puppy.

Aww!

I’m not sure if this is some kind of attempt at population control, considering the suicide rate increases ten-fold at this time of year?

Well, I say ‘this time of year’, but feel I should also point something else out:

It’s NOT fucking Christmas!

It’s EARLY BASTARD NOVEMBER!

We’ve just had a Halloween party, and the Zombie Jesus was nowhere to be seen, because the cunt wasn’t born for nearly TWO MONTHS!

By the time the 25th December does arrive, we’re all going to be so miserable and desensitised we’ll think nothing of taking the piss out of the latest AIDS or animal cruelty advert, as we tuck into the Christmas pudding that’s already a month out of date.

E-cig Rant

E-cig Rant

I’m one of those irritating people who only ever smokes when they drink in the pub.

Not every time – but often I’ll get a few beers in me and have a smoke.  I like it.

I don’t, however, like the smell on my hands and clothes, the smoke-in-your-eye moments, the damned PRICE of a pack of Marlboro these days (Over £8 for 20!!!!), and the fact that smoking makes you die of impotence/cancer/horrible-looking picture things.

It kind-of makes sense for me to have a look at the whole E-cigarette stuff that’s going on.

So it gives you all the nicotine that gives you hit, with none of the nasty smoke, chemicals, or having to go outside to smoke.

I decided, along with my fiancée, that we’d grab one of the £6 ones from the local chemist.  Extra strong.  Disposable after around 400 fag puffs (tee-hee!).

 

I took my first drag (making the end light up orange for some reason? I mean, I’m not five bloody years old so don’t really need this?!?) and proceeded to cough my lungs up worse than with a ‘normal’ cigarette!

Being a bit surprised by this, I had a few more drags on it, figuring the hoofing great nicotine rush must be on its way…

It wasn’t.

I puffed away intermittently through the night as I downed a few pints, even resorted to hand-bongs to get some effect, and only ever managed to make myself cough.

Maybe the ‘extra strong’ ones from the chemist are to help people quit smoking (I haven’t started, yet, so don’t want this!), and are stupidly weak?  I’ve been advised to buy these expensive kits with loads of geeky stuff like batteries, atomisers, coils and flavoured poncy, err… flavours – but I’m trying to do this to save me money!  Surely all this geekiness is a bit unnecessary for someone who smokes around 4 cigarettes a month?!

We did find my fiancée sat there smoking it when she wouldn’t normally have been smoking a cigarette, so that idea kind-of fails heavily, there!

There is a lot of talk about them being allowed in the workplace.  I say this is absolutely fine – along with mainlining crack and snorting heroin through your testicles.  I mean, you’re basically gobbing downa  load of drugs at work when you smoke, so why not let us all skag up a bit, too, right?

Or it would be fair… if the damned things actually gave you any kind of rush.

Burger King? Burger Kunts, More Like!

Burger King?  Burger Kunts, More Like!

It was drawing to the end of a long Friday at work, when I found a link to some vouchers – Buy one, get one free on Big Macs and loads of Burger King stuff.

I was already starving to death, and so by the time I’d printed them off and cut them, I’d already hatched a cunning plan.

I’d seen the TV ads for the BK Angus Burger, and it looked pretty good.

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Unfortunately, every BK I’d ever been in was staffed by the dumbest FUCKTARDS I have ever encountered in my life!

I swear to God not one time have they got my order right!  The last time all I ordered was a Big Whopper, Fries, and some Onion Rings.  It doesn’t get much simpler.  No, I don’t want a drink.  No, I don’t want the Whopper Meal, else I’d have asked for that.  No, it DOES NOT work out cheaper if I have the meal, because I have to pay 60p more AND I can’t have the drink because I’m on a fucking bike… etc.

Same story as every damn fast food purchase whilst in my leathers.

After about 20 minutes of Quasi-fucking-modo’s Grandson trying to work it out, I got home to discover I did have the Onion Rings (and that took a LOT of fighting to make sure) – but no bastard fries!!!

Plus BK stuff costs more than McD’s, and it’s all smaller.  Fuck that.

So, being the forgiving and adventurous sort, I decided to give The King another chance to appease the Nasty Evil Ninja.

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Walking in, eyeing Wolf Boy and Lurch suspiciously as they loped about behind the counter, I produced my Buy One Get One Free Angus Burger Voucher, nodding a bit.  Yeah, bitch – look what I’ve got!

“We don’t take them.” Lurch sprayed at me through his mouldy brace.

I looked up at the big Burger King sign, just in case it had become a McDonalds or Filthy McNasty’s since I was last there.  Nope – The King was still here.

“We’re franchised to the motorway services – so we don’t accept regular vouchers.”

Oh, I see!  So you can rip us right the fuck off, eh?  Thought I.

As I’d been waiting to be served, I was looking for some kind of price list on display so I knew how much some fries would cost me with my Angus Burgers.  For the life of me I couldn’t see any prices anywhere!  The old adage “If you have to ask – you can’t afford it” is very wise.  But not in a fast food joint, surely?!

I couldn’t exactly turn around and go somewhere else for food now, or I’d look a bit silly… so I glanced up at the pictures and ordered the best beast I could see – a Triple Pepper Double Angus Burger or something – and large fries.

“Six pounds seventy whatever.”  Lurch said.

I beg your fucking pardon???  Almost SEVEN POUNDS for a burger and fries????

I paid as Wolf Boy capered about getting the food.

“There you go,”  he said as he handed the bag over, “Triple Pepper Double Anus Belcher and Regular Fries.”

Ah.  There we go.  I ask for TWO THINGS, and they get it wrong!!!!

Rage fuelled by hunger was tenuously held at bay as I informed him of the error of his ways, and he threw another bag of fries at me.

I sauntered out of (hopefully) the last Burger King that I will ever visit…

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Humans Are Mad

Humans Are Mad

It has long since come to my attention that we, human beings, as a species, are stark raving mad.

Getting past the fact that we’re all just bloody weird creatures (some more wonderful than others), a lot of the things we do and eat and wear don’t make the slightest bit of sense.  I guess after religion stuck it’s filthy paws in and repressed our natural animal instincts, it’s not all that surprising.

Here are some of the reasons:

Ties

You look untidy… untidy… still untidy… wrap a totally useless bit of material around your neck – Oh, you must be an honourabel and dapper gentleman!

No, if this wasn’t ‘traditional’, you’d look like a dick.

Ironing

WTF do we need flat clothes for?  Any hippie tells you they’re saving the world, tell them how much of the Earths natural resources they waste on ironing!

We don’t have flat bodies.  Your freshly ironed clothes stay that way for about 4 seconds until you have aq sit down, put your coat on, or move at all.  And you want to kill all the worlds baby seals for THAT?!  Shame on you!

Dancing

Fling your arms around, jump up and down and move about… that’s cool!  Do it slightly differently, and people laugh?! It’s ALL mental!

We all love to see animals doing a cute little ‘dance’, don’t we?  Well that’s you.  And that’s your mother.

Food

We’ll happily eat chicken, but a pigeon?  Hell no, you dirty git!  And who the Hell first discovered cow milk and why?!  Or frying things in oil?

Christmas

The one time of year when, all of a sudden, that orange peel you throw away in disgust is suddenly more appealing than a kebab from Charlie’s after a night down The Black Cross.  Get it eaten!

Raw lemon peel?  Mmm – why not put that shit in a cake!  Lovely!

And that wine you enjoy, but insist it needs to be chilled to the same temperature as a polar bears heel?  Heat that stuff up!

Hell, lets throw some bloody cloves in, too!  Everybody suddenly turns into a garbage-eating, pot-pourri munching tramp for Jesus’ birthday!

Keep on doing your big pink talking monkey thing, folks, and I hope you all have a great 2014!

Random Rants

Random Rants

It’s been a while since I had a rant.

On here, anyway.  Rest assured that almost every time I switch on a TV, or look at the world around me, it will almost certainly inspire a rant.

So what’s been whipping the nipples off my tits lately?

Shower Gel

Why does everyone want to smell like they’ve spilled a can of Tango over themselves? *NOTE* By some coincidence, here’s one of the products that came up in my picture search. WTF?

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A good ‘soap’ smell isn’t any good these days!  Oh, no!  The latest Lynx RightGuard Old Spice like a diabetics breath!  strawberry Puff, they may as well name this stuff, rather and ‘Inspire’ or ‘Orange Passion’.  Or chocolate!

You can even buy stuff that smells like the most disgusting chocolate you’d never want to eat!  And why the Hell would you want to smell like you fell asleep with a Snickers, anyway?!  Stop it!

Which also leads me nicely to:

Fancy Chocolate

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Cadbury’s Dairy Milk is the best chocolate bar in the world, with no exceptions.  There’s your benchmark.

I can sort-of get behind chocolate and chilli (never hot enough, tastes a bit crap as they never use good chocolate – like Dairy Milk, for example), fruit and nut type stuff, or chocolate filled with flavoured centre type malarkey.

But some people always have to take things too far.  These new Cadbury’s bars stuffed with popping candy, jelly beans, chocolate brownies and any other crap they could find in the factory – NO!!!  YOU’VE RUINED IT!

Except the Cadbury’s Dairy Milk With Oreos… That is properly badass!

https://i2.wp.com/www.marketingweek.co.uk/Pictures/web/s/e/a/CDMOREO120_460.jpg

Dogs In Cars

There was a post in the Spotted: Redditch page on Facebook last night.  Some rubberhead had taken a picture of a car, windows steamed up, at night, with full-on dogging going on.  Not the type of dogging featuring Brenda from the local Asda and 15 fat men in masks – the kind where a dog owner had left the dogs in the car whilst they went into a local pub for a meal for an hour or so.

The page branded the dogs being left in the car as disgusting behaviour, noting that the poor abused canines were “panting for breath” without even an open window.

In the dark.  In November.  At about 5 degrees C.

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This was followed by a flurry of posts from people calling to lynch the owners, and smash the windows to save the poor dogs!!!  I counted at least 5 people who said they’d reported it to the Police!

*sniggers*

So these dogs, happily sat in a car for an hour, after possibly having spent all day running over the Malvern Hills with their loving owner, were supposed to be ‘helped’ by letting the -ing cold air in the car?

And nobody noticed the fact many people AND dogs sit in cars for hours at a time without suffocating?  Or that it’s perfectly normal?  Or that you just miiiiiiiight be wasting Police time because you’re a moron?

Joey Essex

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Is that even his real name?  Not worth asking him, as he’d be unsure.  I’d seen him previously on “Celebrity Juice”, where he failed to answer a question correctly about how many sides a square has.

He’s now on “I’m A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here”, where he’s shown he can’t tell the time from a clock and other such joys.

And you just KNOW he’s going to be a massive celebrity after this!

Is it really any wonder why people are reporting dogs suffocating in a car when we idolise people like this?

He reminds me in several ways of a ‘Joey’ who was famous during my 80s childhood….

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KFC Complaint Letter

KFC Complaint Letter

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Dear Kentucky Fried Chicken,

After resisting temptation whilst everyone else flocked to the brand new KFC that opened in Bromsgrove in July, we finally decided to give it a go tonight.

We were very hungry, and so opted to use the Drive Thru, carefully selecting a nice easy choice of the most popular meals that would be fast and pretty-much impossible for – and forgive me for my language here – even the most useless of staff to cock up.

Two Flaming Zinger box meals. They each contain a Zinger Burger, fries, two spicy wings, and a drink and side order of our choosing. I know you SHOULD know the contents of your own box meals, but my need to clarify this will become apparent.

Knowing side orders and drinks can be tricky to get right, we each asked for the same – Pepsi and corn on the cob. Ok? Two Flaming Zinger box meals, each with Pepsi and corn on the cob. Nice and easy.

We thought we’d risk things further (and this may have pushed things over the edge), and asked for two lots of BBQ sauce. I was pretty surprised to be charged 10p each for these, considering how you charge 300% more for what is essentially a can of Pepsi, but let this go as I eagerly looked forward to getting something quick and simple to eat.

Arriving at the final window, we were given the Pepsi’s and told to park up in the Orange Bay and they would bring the food over shortly. All ok so far – a bit strange that we literally just got the drinks. We noted that we were not given straws at this point, but didn’t realise this would turn out to be the same kind of taunting undertaken by Joseph Mengele as he handed people a bar of soap as they went into the shower block.

We parked up and waited.

And waited.

Others were also directed to the bays, some complaining about their wait, and eventually Manuel brought out their food and they left. I refer to ‘Manuel’ – this may not be his actual name. I dub him Manuel not because he was from Barcelona, but because the poor young lad was scurrying back and forth as the sole person bringing angry customers their long awaited food like something out of Fawlty Towers. Also because he will undoubtedly be the one who gets beaten up by hypoglycaemic people waiting in those drive thru bays.

After we’d been there over 15 minutes one couple who had complained about their own wait pointed out that even they had arrived some time after us, before getting their food and driving off.

Part of me feels sorry for Manuel – but if this is his first job at least it will harden him to the world. After his shift tonight, if his next job is as a parking warden, prison officer, or crash test dummy at least he won’t be fazed by the hardships of it. He’ll always be scarred more by his experience working at KFC on this Saturday night.

I did plead with Manuel to get them to give us ‘free stuff’ after we’d been there for 25 minutes (he had been over to apologise several times), and he scurried back inside to try and get them to, you know, give us some of this promised ‘fast food’ and stuff.

I haven’t sat watching so many people enter and leave a building whilst sat motionless, bored, and starving in my car since I used to work in surveillance.

After 29 minutes – TWENTY NINE minutes!!!!!!! – I’d decided if Manuel brought out anyone else’s food but ours, I was going to beat him to death, take the food he was carrying, and demand a refund AND our food for free from the bunch of incompetent idiots inside. Luckily, this time (did I mention this was after 29 minutes, according to our receipt?) it was our food that he brought over.

We sped off home after glancing in the bag to make sure it had 2 boxes in there, and admittedly should have checked more thoroughly… Especially as we realised nobody had given us straws for the drinks. Too hungry to risk a fight at the drive thru window, we cut our losses and headed off.

Have you ever tried to drink a ‘fast food’ Pepsi without a straw? Go on – try it. Once you eventually manage to get enough ice out of the way to get a drop of Pepsi into your mouth, the ice freezes your teeth and gives you an instant headache. If ‘interrogation specialists’ have not yet discovered the values of this as a form of excruciating torture, you might want to market the idea to them.

Unpacking the food back at home, we noted straight away that our 20p worth of BBQ sauces were nowhere in sight. Sauces we bought, in the bag? No.

Opening the boxes, we found not corn on the cob, but some filthy great pots of gravy! I don’t know who even eats a pot of gravy with their fried chicken, but let’s just say we’d rather eat our own legs than order gravy as our ‘side dish’. I can see how you’d want to replace our near-healthy choice of vegetable with a pot of fat as the next best thing. They are a close fit. This is sarcasm, by the way.

Free stuff? Oh, no. We were not given even a solitary piece of chicken to try and compensate us for waiting longer than most of those chickens probably lived.

Then to REALLY rub it in, one of the spicy wings was about 2″ long. Seriously?! Was that little budgie wing deliberately selected by your staff who KNEW we’d been waiting for 29 minutes after deciding NOT to give us any free stuff??

Can you see my frustration, here?

As such, I’ve taken even more time out of my day in order to tell you about my KFC experience, and how, contrary to the slogan on the bag in the picture, it bloody well ISN’T ‘So good’!

It’s pretty damned poor!

So I’ll leave it for you to reply and tell us just what, exactly, you plan to do about it to put things right?

After the wait we had tonight, I won’t hold my breath…

 

Yours with much anger,

 

Nasty Evil Ninja

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Nasty Evil Ninja Goes To See The Shogun

Nasty Evil Ninja Goes To See The Shogun

As most of you will know – I’m always up for trying new (and unusual) food.

I do like sushi, but I’d never actually been to a proper restaurant to try it.  All I’ve had is the pre-packed, err… packs that you can buy in supermarkets and stuff.  So it’s a bit like saying “I like Italian food” when all you’ve had is microwave lasagna meals.

When a few of the lovely Office Monkeys I work with decided to arrange a meal at a sushi restaurant, I jumped at the chance to go!

Even better – we’d found somewhere that did an all-you-can-eat buffet for a set price.

I eagerly awaited the arranged day, probably a little more excited over it all than I should be!  One person dropped out on the final day (she realised there wasn’t much but fish on the menu, and doesn’t like it – don’t ask!), but the rest of us, most who had never tried ANY kind of sushi, finally got it all sorted out.

We went to Shogun, which is in The Mailbox in Birmingham city centre.  For about £12 you could choose whatever you wanted from the sushi selection, and eat until you dropped.

When we entered, we were directed to sit on little stools surrounding a moving conveyor belt that had small dishes constantly moving around.

You literally grab a small plate full of various foods as it comes past you, and chomp it down.

Each of the small saucers contained three or four lumps of sushi (I’m no expert – have a look at this link for the names of the different types: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sushi ), noodles, or stir fry.

We split some of the dishes between us, as they are very deceptive in how much they fill you up.  I’d gone in expecting to have 10 dishes minimum to myself, but in reality had half that or less.

The freshness of all the food shone through immediately, and it was all presented immaculately.

The conveyor was always kept full by the chefs, so there was never any shortage, or having to wait for more to appear.

Between us we tried lots, and nobody managed to find anything we didn’t like!

The conveyor belt thing might sound a little cold and industrial, but in contrast it creates a very sociable atmosphere.  I also noticed that, unlike most all-you-can-eat buffets, nobody there was stuffing themselves with stupidly huge portions of food to ‘try and get their monies worth’ – it all seemed very respectful and civilised.  Even stranger when you consider there was absolutely nothing to suggest in any way you were limited to how much you could eat, or even how much you could leave half-eaten.

Japanese food can be very expensive (indeed, some of the dishes on the regular menu were pretty pricey), but as a stereotype you’d also expect it to be of a very high quality.  The food at Shogun didn’t disappoint.  In fact I’d say the sushi buffet option is an absolute bargain!

With the amount of vegetarian sushi I’d recommend it to anyone – although it can be hard to tell if some of them do contain fish, so you’d have to be a bit careful.

The only criticism I have is that the stools aren’t the most comfortable to sit on, and none of the dishes are labelled.  If you’re a fussy eater, this might drive you mad – it was a mild irritation to me because I WANT to know what that strange bright red fish was, because I’m trying to munch my way through every animal in existence.

Not that it REALLY matters, because you eat your fill, and ALL of the fish is beautiful.

I’ll be looking forward to the next time I go there – and I don’t think that will be too far into the future!