One Reason Why I Am Happy For Big Brother to Be Watching All of Us

... because none of us would then be watching Big Brother.

Big Brother starts tonight... I'm going to retreat into a nuclear bunker. I'd like to raise a few things here about the Big Brother phenomenon...

1. If I to see nothing happening on my TV I will turn it off.
2. If I wanted 10 weeks of contstant coverage of people who are not remotely important I would watch QVC, I might at least come away with something useful.

I hate this time of year, I hate everything about this show. I hate the press coverage meaning I can't avoid it even if I destroy my TV in a black magic ritual. I hate Davina yelling over the microphone. I hate the constant discussions about it amongst the girls in the office (the blokes never seem to bother with it).

WHY OH WHY ARE WE SUBJECTED TO THIS INFANTILE BOLLOCKS?

I feel nothing but contempt for the star struck morons who appear in this. I could understand them being placed in a secure building with cameras following their every move but just not in this way.

The only person I admire in this set up is the poor Geordie bloke who has to try and find something interesting happening to give his commentary a listener of two. You get lines like:

"Day 42 in the Big Brother house and an argument has broken out about some cheese"

Save me....

DeCaff? What Bollocks!

I have few vices in the world but a fine cup of tea is one of them, we did after all build an empire on it. So having duly purchased a new box of tea bags to work my way through I gleefully opened for that "first cuppa from the box" feeling.

I was greeted by a note on the top saying "Have you tried PG Tips Decaff?"

NO I BLOODY HAVEN'T AND I NEVER WILL!!

Surely we all drink tea for that kick you get, the same reason why we drink coffee. Normally the stuff tastes foul (hence the addition of sugar), the only reason you can drink it is for the reward of beign able to stay awake 30 minutes longer. What the hell is the point of removing the one pleasure these drinks provide. The same goes for alcohol free lager.

A New Ranter on the Books

Overworked has launched This Job Sucks.

Guttersnipe wishes him well in all his rants and raves.

Welcome to the brotherhood.

Health and Safety Inspection Day

I ask you… what is the point of these? When I am not ranting I have a job and yesterday was the day of our “Health and Safety” inspection. Or let’s put this another way:

“An inspection to waste the time and money of everyone using our service whilst giving an otherwise unemployed busybody £25,000 of tax payers’ money.” – I think that sums it up.

I sat their while this inspector pointed out that my milk should be in the fridge where it wouldn’t go off, did I really need the curtains as they can gather dust? Was I aware that there was a pile of files behind me? Have I had the angle I sit at risk assessed recently?

Ironically the one thing in the office I have injured myself on, the window, was totally overlooked. Totally.

So now that this inspection is complete I should feel healthier and safer, after all that was the object, but I don’t. She didn’t advise me to quit smoking, offered me no dietary advice, didn’t tell me to work less and play more and did nothing for stress. I still face the same threat from international terrorism, I could get run over, I can still be bullied in the work place, what did this achieve?

- If I have concerns about my health I’ll see a doctor
- If I have concerns about my safety I’ll call the police.

If I have £25K of taxpayers money I want to waste I’ll call a Health and Safety Inspector.

Shouldn't Soap be Keeping You Clean?

There are a great many things that I just fail to understand about Lady Guttersnipe, a great many things and I'm sure we'll share more as time progresses. Today's particular observation is her strange love of the cosmetics shop Lush, I can hear fellow guttersnipes expressing their agreement already.

I'm terrified of this shop. On the rare occasions I've plucked up the courage to enter, as opposed to say something less daunting like volunteering to be hung, drawn and quartered, I've been overwhelmed by the stuff they get my charming Lady G. to buy.

Bath bombs - Apparently you put these things in the bath and they explode. Yes gentlemen, explode! Obviously someone recognised that there was a real market niche for a range of exploding soaps, and I would agree but you expect to find them on the shelf next to the exploding cigars and fart powder.

Blocks of shampoo and soap - None of them appearing to contain soap, they'd much rather contain Peruvian lava powder, Organic Cow Slime and Jaffa Cake and Ginger Nut exfoliant. If I am covered in Peruvian Lava podwer or Siberian Yak Vomit then it's a cue to have a shower, not the other way round. Aside from this they are huge. You can buy soap in 2 foot square blocks? Who needs a 2 foot block of soap? How do you rub a 2 foot block of soap into those awkward folds and creases that need mucking out? I looked on horrified as ladies who I appeared intelligent and of sound mind purchase 2 foot blocks of soap with dirt already in it. What's the point?

Ladies you baffle me, I'll be sticking with my bottle of Dove.

Children - Rant I

This morning I was being pleasantly driven to work by the delightful Lady Guttersnipe (she'll love me for that name I assure you) when a local scrot teenage girl just walked out in front of the car. Naturally the brakes were applied as we are reliably informed that a 2.0 litre Renault hurts.

The response we got for lengthening the life expectancy of this adolescent (no doubt named Chardonnay, Chelsea or Posh) was a glare of disgust before she nonchalantly went on her way to report to register and then skip school.

I'm trying to understand why we deserved such an "evil glare". I have narrowed it down to two things:

1. We were on the road in a car
2. We didn't drive over her

I think next time we'll skip on option 2.

Meat Feast Pizzas

Let me clarify first, I'm not anti-meat feast pizzas. Far from it. I would happily start building temples to meat feast pizzas if only I could get planning permission. No, my problem lies with some of the content. The "not meat" content to be precise.

If I order this fine product of Italy it always, without fail, turns up with onions and green peppers all over the top of it. Why? Why? Why?

I spend most of my life being lectured on the health threats of pizza... I accept them, if they're going to kill me at least let me die without forcing vegetables on me. Have a good look at a salad some day.... it's just not food. If I ordered a "Vegetarian Feast" I wouldn't get ham and pepperoni put on for good measure would I?

It's discrimination, sheer unadulterated discrimination against happy carnivores. I like eating dead animals, it's my right and I've never set eyes on a healthy looking vegetarian.

Rail Travel I

My work frequently requires me to take some lengthy train journeys. London, Edinburgh, Montrose, Kent the like. Since GNER have shamefully abandoned the smoking carriage that made using public transport a pleasure for me I have retreated to the "Quiet Coach". Now you would expect quiet in this coach would you not? After all if I go into a building marked "Vegetarian Cafe" I expect to find vegetarian food.

I've no real problem with how people use their mobile phones (unless they have the Crazy frog) or indeed their laptops.... all I ask is that the "Quiet" rule also applies to children.

Children are the bane of any of my train journeys. Their squealing, their crying, their running up and down the aisle while the hapless parent says something like "Aww Chelsea please don't". It drives me insane.

This is how serial killers start you know. In 5 years time when some poor commuter has hacked an entire school outing to death with a sharpened umbrella his neighbours will say "he was a quiet man who liked the quiet, and travelled on trains a lot". This will be the reason.

Really, if we can ban smoking in the presence of non-smokers can we please ban children in the presence of committed non-parents? That's all I ask

American Tourists - WTF are they thinking?

I had the recent honour of spending a weekend at the very fine Warwick Castle. I'm sure you'll all agree it is a fantastic example of Medieval strength and architecture, and what's more was all built with the proceeds of French plunder during the Hundred Years War.

I digress.

Whilst I was stood before the medieval reenactors admiring the 15th Century Barbican an American woman strolled up with her family. She frantically gathered her children around her and said:

"Kids, this.... is pre-1944"

Words fail me.