TLC

So the dinnerladies is supposed to be a comedy then, I was never quite sure. Such is my hatred for it, a friend brought me a DVD box set of series 1 & 2 for xmas as a (expensive) joke. According to the box it contained over 7 hours of comedy gold; I'll ask my mum what she thinks if she ever gets round to opening her last birthday present! Why people don't include receipts with presents is beyond me.... Not my own personal complaint*, but I once read the following and it is strangely logical: - Soft porn. People who like porn hate it, and people who hate porn also hate it, so what's the point? *I may as well have started that sentence off with 'my friend said....' ps DDT The sword of time will pierce our skins It doesn't hurt when it begins But as it works its way on in The pain grows stronger watch it grin According to the God called Google anyway.

'Quite frankly, any other entrants to the Miss Stomach-turner of the year competition are going to be fighting it out for a bronze medal.'

Jings! I nearly forgot this excruciating piece of audio drivel courtesy of the New Zealand tourist board. It's been played to death on British TV, but I have for you the 12" re-re-remix*. It's not so much the appallingly cliched images, but the song. The link to said atrocity is here, possibly the worst tune I've ever heard. The Lighthouse Family are cutting edge musicians by comparison, and even typing the name of that band makes me vomit in my mouth a little bit, due to their utter blandness. After a very small amount of research, it turns out the song has only been slightly re-written for the advert, and had actually been previously released as an album track on its own merits. Good grief. *I'm assuming that's the case due to the length of the clip, as my work PC has no sound card.

Right then.... (in no particular order) Street performers. Not funny or entertaining, except very rarely and always inadvertently. Kenny G. Hair, Saxophone, I rest my case. Garnish on food. If it's not supposed to be eaten, don't put it on my plate. Telesales people, but specifically the bit when they cold call and then demand that you answer security questions before they proceed. I know they have to ask (data protection act etc. the abuse of which drives me mental too but that's a bit work specific) but it winds me up no end, or it did until we had our land line removed. Better than TPS. Christian Rock. What? The Chuckle Brothers. Extensively covered elsewhere, but a breach of the Trades Description Act if ever there was one. Bad adverts. Quote me happy? F*ck right off. Far too many to mention all of them. I'm lovin' it? I don't f*cking think so. The dinnerladies. Crimes against comedy, guilty as charged, no right to appeal, life with no parole. Case closed. 'To be perfectly honest...', as if that's proof of truthfulness. You're hardly going to start a sentence with 'I might be lying a bit...' whether you are or not. The Daily Mail. The tabloid that pretends otherwise, which makes it even worse. Still got their black shirts pressed & ironed in case extreme nationalism ever takes hold in the UK. 'No win no fee' companies. Some claims are justified of course, but these days everyone is encouraged to claim thousands for sprained ankles and the like; then everyone bitches when insurance premiums rocket. I also refer you to bad adverts. And adverts for loan companies, usually in abundance during daytime TV. Enough to make me want to go to work. Socks & sandals, a terrifying combination. Especially if white socks pulled up nice and straight to mid-calf are involved. Students, but only specific types. Including floppy velvet hats, uni scarf tossed casually across the shoulder for no neck warming purposes, laughing at lecturers jokes whilst sitting at the front with a dictaphone, rag week hi-jinks, growing dreadlocks but getting mummy & daddy to collect the washing each weekend etc. This is from a man who was a Politics student (hi Windsor!) in my day, and had a healthy hatred of many student habits whilst still erm, studying. I have nicked a traffic cone though, so I'm not guilt-free here. This is not a goodbye, but au revoir. We shall meet again, my friends.

At the moment it's more a question of spending my summer in the city because I don't dare have any time off work. This is supposed to be the first week of my fortnight off; I fully expect to be here next week too. Plus I really can't deal with the heat. And I don't drink lattes. Or go to see films. Or know where the good restaurants & stores are, and probably wouldn't go to them even if I did. I last got dragged on a family holiday in 2000, my previous holiday was 1991*. Still, it's good to know that if I ever do feel like getting away from it all I should go to the city..... *excluding 1992-1995 when I was a student. Oh yeah, and I come out as Black Hole in the 'how bright would you shine?' thingy too. Quel surprise!

My meal of choice is spaghetti & cheese on toast. It's certainly tasty, and I believe also qualifies as an extremely unusual salad recipe. It has got tomato sauce with the spaghetti, and you can use mozarella instead of the more traditional mature cheddar, so does that make it salad? It can be eaten cold (that might just be me) and I suppose you can put a nice green sprig of some type of pointless garnish on top if that'll help. Just remember to remove it before you start eating, that's not what it's for.

I thought that was just the ones bred in captivity? Godammit, I've been taken for a fool! Those (quite literally) silver tongued heart-breakers, no wonder they always made their excuses and left after coffee. Not that the coffee ever got drunk come to think of it, but I'd always put that down to the engaging smalltalk... What thread is this again? I have a strange feeling that whatever it is, it's probably not a Dalek sex advice thread, so I may be a little off topic. Sorry about that. Again.

I agree, though they always seem to play hard to get. Now matter how hard I tried I could never get a lady Dalek to follow me upstairs to the bedroom. Please excuse my ignorance, but can you be sure it was a lady Dalek? Maybe you misread some of the appendages and made what could have been a fatal assumption, were it not for the fact that you have stairs in your abode. Lucky escape, methinks. Of course I'm sure, it's all in the breeding wiring. The Lady Dalek is so much more than 'exterminate! exterminate!' although they can be the equal to the male (and more, so much more!) in terms of their ferocity when necessary; especially when defending their young. When you see an assembly (I believe that's the correct collective noun) of Daleks in the wild, you know who the boss is and no mistake. Do you accuse me of being taken for a fool, Mr Rick? Damn your hide, sir! I can't believe I'm actually going to post this, but here goes...

I'm disappointed with that, I thought it'd be a bit higher. Saying that, there's no allowance for repeat offences, and definitely a few of my crimes weren't on the list. But I ain't sayin' nuffink. I've only actually spent one night in the cells in real life, and strangely that was drink-related. It was while I was still a bonkers crazy student, so it was practically compulsory. As a Saaff Lahndener (anpraad'vit), Dodgy is probably the right title to bear. I still have to fight the genetically pre-programmed urge to call people 'sunshine' on occasion, I choose to believe in an ironic* way. *don't pull me up if I've misused the I word, 'cos if you do, I'll cut yer... Can anyone beat DDT without cheating?

I just fancied a change. Daleks can be sexy too. I used to go out with a Dalek. Great kisser but the eye used to get in the way. I agree, though they always seem to play hard to get. Now matter how hard I tried I could never get a lady Dalek to follow me upstairs to the bedroom.

I am also Iceman, equally not surprised and quite accurate. I can certainly turn any lady into ice merely by looking at her. What's more, they never ever melt, even after I become nearly invisible. Sometimes even telling jokes is a bit of an effort for me to be honest, I'm sure you've all noticed. I will let you know if I ever advance in ice weaponry, I've had no luck so far. Maybe if I waited until the winter I'd do better.

I take it that you didn't join in with his fabulous rendition of 'Summer Holiday' about 10 or so years back? I recall you saying somewhere else that you were the last to shout 'Come on Boris!' at match point of his first Wimbledon win (1985?) so you sound like a regular. Perhaps you and the 'Peter Pan of pap' are on nodding terms; if so, a quiet(ish) word in his ear along the lines of 'IF YOU EVER, EVER! DO THAT AGAIN, you're a dead man, Richards' would do the trick. When I saw that crime against humanity committed live on telly, I immediately realised Elvis had the right idea about combining TV & guns to make quality entertainment. As a side issue, people* always say Cliff was the British Elvis; if only he'd have paid closer attention to the King's 'movements' on 16th August 1977 and mimicked them a little more closely. *no-one I've ever met, but nonetheless...

A British company is developing computer chips that store music in women's breast implants. This is a major breakthrough, since women are always complaining about men staring at their breasts and not listening to them.

A drunken belch perhaps or a retch? Nice try, I do appreciate the attempted help but apparently I did it quite quietly, and right in her ear. I doubt one of my drunken belches would sound much like a growl from that distance, it would be more of a roar if anything. You may think differentiating between a roar & a growl is splitting hairs, but in this context I believe it to be a crucial difference. Unfortunately.

Very depressing, just went out of the office to get a sandwich, already loads of people in town not in suits finding a pub to spend the rest of the day in watching the footy. Still, hats off to the two blokes I saw at 9 this morning already staggering down the road, england shirts off and draped over their shoulders, copies of The Sun tucked under their arms... that is the official dress code I believe, although for full effect they should have been sunburnt and had much larger beer bellies. And don't forget, this country is now officially called Eng-er-land for the next month.

"I wouldn't mind so much if it was mine...."

Adds a few extra layers of intrigue, that part of the review does. Who were these brothers you refer to? And isn't it more likely that they spent some time in her? Drumroll, anybody? I really hope the title of the book was chosen on purpose for both meanings of the phrase 'In My Skin', considering the subject matter.

I've just remember another one! One of my first proper drunken escapades to be promoted to a 'story' was when I was seventeen. One night me & 6 mates went clubbing (the legend that was Zen's in Dartford), and oddly we managed to find one group of 7 girls that we all pulled i.e. snogged. I was only 17 and blessed with that crippling lack of self confidence you can have at that age. Anyway, I digress as usual. So, next day about 3 of my mates met up with their 3 from the night before, although my 'catch' went with them for whatever reason. I get to school on Monday, and everyone is making growling noises at me in between laughing. It turns out that she reckoned I growled in her ear before moving in for the kill... Add that to a first name of Tony, you have Tony the Tiger as a hilarious nickname for the next however many years. In fact, I remembered this because one of my mates was still telling more people about this just last night, not that I care now. If I did, I wouldn't have posted this, I'm not doing this as some sort of therapy. Honest. I've still never managed to think of anything I could have done that would be mistaken for a growl other than I actually did it, or maybe I'm not crediting this girl with enough wit to have made it up. I think that's more of a hope than anything. Ho hum, live & learn etc.

No, I didn't know that. What prize do I win?

I refer you all to this <{POST_SNAPBACK}> post in the 'Where has Tempus Gone?' thread. Well Mr OoO, wrong on both counts! A combination of collectively failing to remember that you were on holiday, combined with a thread renamed in honour of you going MIA. Just to let you all know, I'm on holiday for a fortnight from 25th June onwards. Not because I think I'd be missed anyway, but unfortunately for you all I'm not going anywhere other than my sofa. So, I'll be at home watching the knockout stages of the World Cup, and posting on here even more often. That's why I warned you, it's only fair.

Cripes Iain BS, is the prophecy supposed to take place today, or is it just that the premonition was today? I'm presuming the BS bed time was after midnight last night , or else the premonition could have been on the 5th, and would thus be less scientifically reliable. Are you near the point where you can narrow it down from the current 11?

I think you'll find you were given some dud 'substances' there DDT, Special Brew does that all by itself. Overall, I'm pleased to hear the amount of drunken shennanigans people get up to, it makes me feel much better. Sometimes I get treated like I'm the only person who's ever pissed in an inappropriate place (and I'm not talking watersports) whilst under the influence. People who drink Tramp Juice and get into fights every Friday are accepted as ok and normal, whereas I used to get loads more grief for falling asleep.... and one or two other (non-violent) things. Story for today, nice & short this one. Apparently (I have no recollection of this) whilst out with a group of friends many years ago, I was overheard having the following exchange with a rather splendid young lady: - Rather splendid young lady, "Can I come back to yours for a cup of coffee?" TLC, "Sorry, I've only got beer at home." I was told this by my friend after the lady in question had emigrated shortly afterwards, which was probably for the best. I still like to think that the two events were entirely unconnected. What's even worse is, I very probably did have coffee.... so looks like I missed out on an evening of caffeine-fuelled yet delightful conversation.

Sorry ATJ, I was trying to talk about the Chuckle Brothers but couldn't resist the diversion. Presumably someone will now direct me to a Chuckle Brothers thread, if so, apologies in advance. If there is one, I hope there is zero tolerance for people defending them in any way.

Having been off work one day last week I was disturbed to find the Chuckle Brothers still had a kid's tv programme. I watched it for 5 mins out of a combination of horror & fascination, then had to switch off. They were never funny, even when I was a kid, but now they're unfunny & disturbing. Actually, they were always disturbing, so no change there. I was also concerned that the sketch they were doing was based in a sweet shop, although I didn't see any Werthers' Originals on sale. Maybe they're just for extra special customers..... Finally, just because I haven't seen it mentioned so far in this thread, I suppose all of you who know of the Krankies know that they are husband & wife? If you don't know of them, google image 'Krankies' and then feel a little bit ill about what you see. [edit] Actually, here's one for you

Where to start eh? Could start with the 'groping the bride & the bride's mother at a wedding'? How I didn't even get thrown out is beyond me. Or, passing out at my 10-year school reunion just as I was (apparently) about to get lucky with the best looking girl from school? That's not even the embarrassing bit, it's what I did on the floor after passing out that still makes me hope I never EVER see her again... Falling asleep on a bench pissed in the high street one evening, then as my mate is walking past with his Swedish girlfriend (the first time she was in England) telling her how his mates don't really drink too much... I wake up and introduce myself. I still got into the next pub though! Climbing a fence into the park on the way home to have a discreet pee, overbalancing, landing in the park with one ankle still wedged in the fence about 5 feet up, and having to lift (!) my foot to get out. I then realised a gate was open 10 yards further down and some sort of event was finishing in the park really late, so hundreds of people then walked past me laughing as I tried to un-wedge my ankle. And not wet myself. Plus, dozens of times falling asleep on the train and having to walk somewhere between 5-10 miles home; I've even done it 3 times in one week. Occassionally I've not been woken up (when it's not the last train), and had a really puzzling 5 mins when I've woken up at a station further from my house but still going in the right direction i.e. on the third leg of the journey. Mr Artios was at least partly to blame for a lot of those, hence I don't drink it any more. Or wine. Or neat spirits. Or turbo-shandies, although that only happened the once. The only plus point is that my drinking never ever got me into a fight, god knows how. In fact, my legendary passing out even lead to my friends inventing a new game called 'Buckaroo Tony'. Fairly simple, it involved people seeing how may items could be balanced on me before I woke up... I am so proud of what I acheived in my 20's, although I never made it to alcoholic level despite the money I invested. Maybe the correct thing to say was 'where to stop'? Here, for now.