Croydon. Not exactly Tiananmen Square.

So. Riots. It all got a bit out of hand really. Time to stop now, children. You’ve got your xboxes and your plasmas and your blue-ray projectors (I hope you looted some blu-ray DVDs for that) and your Reebok classics and your Malaysian passport, but now it’s time to go home.

I'd call him an oik if he wasn't such a dick

Nick Clegg might come round, give you a thick ear and drag you to the local police station, but it’ll probably be best if you just lie low and watch your blu-ray copy of the Danny Dyer box set on loop for a couple of weeks, send a few distracting BB messages, nurse your burnt hands and come up with some bullshit political excuse for why you did it, other than the fact that you’re too poor to buy the nice shit like wot they have on that god awful show about Essex. You cunts.

2011: Steve the Fish dies

Steve the Fish has died in a bowl in Brixton, London, aged 4 and a half.

Steve the Fish, as he may have probably looked.

The eminent fish and originator of the theory of fishflakeivity was admitted to fish hospital three days ago with an internal complaint.

In recent years Steve the Fish has lived a relatively secluded life with his long-term partner and confidant Stingray, although he was still a member of staff at the Institute for Advanced Study at Fishton University.

In a statement issued following the fish’s death, UK Prime Minister David Cameron has said: “No other fish contributed so much to the vast expansion of the 20th century knowledge. Even though he was born in 2007″

“No other fish was more modest in the possession of the power that is knowledge, more sure that power, without wisdom, is deadly.”

“To all who live in the digital age, Steve the Fish exemplified the mighty creative ability of the individual in a free society.”

You Shot My Speckled Jim!

 

 

Tonight I shall be eating one of these. It’s a pigeon. I have no idea why I bought a pigeon. But I do know that it cost just £2. Splendid.

 

 

 

 

So, here it is. On first inspection, it appears to be small.

I’m starting to doubt the value of it now, considering it’s 7 pm, I’m hungry, and I’ve still got to cook the fucker.

 

I suddenly realise that I have no idea what to do with a pigeon.

 

 

 

Here’s me not knowing what to do with a pigeon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So I decided to fill it with something

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fortunately, I know enough about cooking to know that if you stuff anything with red onions and butter, then it’s going to get good.

 

 

This is what a chicken would look like if you were a giant.

 

 

 

 

 

 

So most things cook on 180C right? Not this bad boy – cranked it up to 200 and in she went! Phwoar! I’m not messing around with this one, I mean business.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh yes! Look at you, you beautiful pigeony prince.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Did someone say ‘red wine reduction?’

 

This is mostly red wine and pigeon fat.

 

 

Pigeon fat.

 

 

 

 

Boom!

Pigeon, mash and beans.

Served on a classy square white plate.

 

 

 

 

 

Final verdict:

Mash – good texture, well seasoned.

Beans – covered in butter.

Pigeon – Dark meat, and the skin was fatty, like that of duck. The meat was very lean, easily digestible, and was rich in proteins, minerals, and vitamins. Had a silky texture, as it is very tender and fine-grained. Had a milder taste than other game, and could almost be described as having a mild berry flavour.

According to wikipedia.

Mine was dry and overdone. I cooked the shit out of it…

But it cost £2.

Self flagellation and self admiration,

when taken hand in hand,

tend to scar one’s ego.

Back to work

Ubiquitous and oppressive yet still I fight; a foe bestowed upon a man who toils tirelessly towards his own vortex of failure.

Silently he slashes, yet blow after blow fails to vanquish this most uncaring of opponents.

Flesh flies as tic follows toc, and still the beast ploughs on; unflinching and oblivious to the onslaught.

For this enemy succumbs to not even the most determined warrior.

There’s no point in trying to kill time; it’ll always win in the end.

A thought on moustaches, and what they mean to me.

As turgid tufts of broom-like bristles prepare to make their way gleefully down my plughole, I’m left thinking: “what have I learnt from this episode of hirsute heroism?”

Well, what indeed? I guess that I’ve learnt that some people can grow but won’t, some people can’t grow but do, and some people will grow but shouldn’t.

Most seemed to favour the handlebar style of labial fringe, whilst others – perhaps afraid of not being able to cultivate such an appendage – chose the altogether more classical Tom Selleck genre of philtrum fibre. Some chose to supplement their Movember thatching with the ‘tickler’, an altogether villainous breed of facial hair involving a fluffy outcrop of face fur sitting just beneath the bottom lip; in this moustachioed writer’s opinion an unnecessary addition to an already overly-bewhiskered face.

I cannot lie, I have been tempted on more than one occasion to pack it all in. To take my razor and destroy weeks of preparation, planning and patience. But I have not. And what I am left with now is a month’s worth of unkempt growth smeared across my top lip and dribbling down my chin like a toddler with yoghurt. It’s not pretty, and it’s not sexy. All in a good cause, yes, but at what price? It certainly hasn’t done any favours in regards to my already bleak horizons of romance; no Samson and Delilah stories here.

As the blunt blades of moustache freedom graze painfully across my skin, my tache’s life flashes before my nose. The fresh-faced first day’s photo; the second day’s stubble; the first visible whiskers and the realisation that a month is, in fact, rather a long time in which to be sporting such a ridiculous follicular fashion.

http://www.justgiving.com/leicmedicsmovember

jarred awake must change that alarm come to think of it i need to sort out a new phone what day is it again? Oh shit it’s… forget about it now damn it’s early fuck it’s cold should get in the shower really stumble into bathroom that fan’s really loud water on look in mirror hmmm putting on weight? will go for a run later but probably won’t hot water ready scrub body wash face wash hair turn water off towel hanging on radiator nice and warm dry off brush teeth steamy mirror sideways profile ok light off back into room god it’s a mess should clear it up later but probably wont radio on what books do i need? check timetable it’s a bad day stuff things in bag papers everywhere I’ll organise it later but probably won’t first find pants next find socks next find jeans i should throw these away they’re getting old no clean t shirts left fish cleanest smelling one out of laundry bin plenty of deodorant no one will notice check time ok time to head downstairs anyone else up? don’t care really I’m on autopilot kettle on wash flask dry flask coffee in cheap coffee which tastes horrific two sugars water in steal milk from fridge job done pack in bag find coat find shoes id badge check? ok time to go out the door lock it behind you last out? set alarm walk down the drive past the taxis round the corner past the greengrocers past butchers past sainsburys past bookshop past chip chop cross road god its cold can’t believe it’s nearly december wait for the green man wait wait wait fuck it it’s clear cross anyway muddy path dodge the cyclists through the park past the war memorial through the gate there’s the view nearly there check watch? ten to nine should get into main lecture theatre down the hill cross road wait for the green man wait wait wait fuck it it’s clear cross anyway check ID ok into the uni flash your ID ‘good morning’ should learn his name but probably won’t up the stairs into the theatre look around anyone else here? some familiar faces and some empty spaces sit down which lecture is this? oh right it’s that one unpack book find handouts flask out coffee poured smells funny is it the milk? the fairy liquid? the flask? still going to drink it students arrive lecturer arrives everyone goes quiet powerpoint: on camera: zoomed in ok stay awake stay awake what was that? write a note about what? anything pretend you’re learning stay awake MORE COFFEE nod mmmm very interesting i think i knew that stay awake stay awake write another note might be important might not be MORE COFFEE stay awake awake how long to go? fifteen minutes ok stay awake scribble notes highlight something I suppose it might be useful MORE COFFEE five minutes left starting to wrap it up  I want an oatcake from the cafe lecture summary – most important slide – ok ten minute break run to the cafe beat the drinks queue grab the oatcake find friends eat the oatcake whilst engaging in small talk how is everyone? my moustache is looking silly right? when’s the next one start? ok time to move in through the door find seat sit down which lecture is this? oh right it’s that one unpack book find handouts flask out coffee poured smells funny is it the milk? the fairy liquid? the flask? still going to drink it students arrive lecturer arrives everyone goes quiet powerpoint: on camera: zoomed in ok stay awake stay awake what was that? write a note about what? anything pretend you’re learning stay awake MORE COFFEE nod mmmm very interesting i think i knew that stay awake stay awake write another note might be important might not be MORE COFFEE stay awake awake how long to go? fifteen minutes ok stay awake scribble notes highlight something I suppose it might be useful MORE COFFEE NO MORE COFFEE five minutes left he’s starting to wrap it up what’s next? group work oh nice more chatty time and questions to make you feel stupid walk out the theatre find friends find group talk for ages moan moan moan about something must remember to be more cheerful otherwise you’ll be boring must remember that but probably won’t time to head downstairs? ok let’s go through the door hello team! how are we all? small talk chit chat open book look at question feel stupid write down someone else’s answer look at question feel stupid write down someone else’s answer look at question feel stupid write down someone else’s answer  time to go lunch time already? what have you got I’ve got a salad it’s cheap because I have no money still tastes good though and I suppose it’s healthier than a subway scoff lunch what’s next? ANOTHER LECTURE? ok back into lecture theatre students arrive lecturer arrives everyone goes quiet powerpoint: on camera: zoomed in ok stay awake stay awake what was that? write a note about what? anything pretend you’re learning stay awake nod mmmm very interesting i think i knew that stay awake stay awake write another note might be important might not be stay awake awake how long to go? fifteen minutes ok stay awake scribble notes highlight something I suppose it might be useful five minutes left starting to wrap it up what’s next? group work oh nice more chatty time and questions to make you feel stupid walk out the theatre find friends find group talk for ages moan moan moan about something must remember to be more cheerful otherwise you’ll be boring must remember that but probably won’t time to head downstairs? ok let’s go through the door hello team! how are we all? small talk chit chat open book look at question feel stupid write down someone else’s answer look at question feel stupid write down someone else’s answer look at question feel stupid write down someone else’s answer time to go where to now? library? definitely going home to piss about for an hour might write something dumb on my blog might fix my bike might prepare dinner who knows? there’s a thousand things to do to avoid work browse net check facebook check email check facebook check email facebook chat send a text check bbc news check bbc sport check email check facebook right time for work pack some books go to the library go downstairs find coat find shoes id badge check? ok time to go out the door lock it behind you walk down the drive past the taxis round the corner past the greengrocers past butchers past sainsburys past bookshop past chip chop cross road god its cold can’t believe it’s nearly december wait for the green man wait wait wait fuck it it’s clear cross anyway down the cycle path towards and into to the campus walk through the buildings up the steps the library shines walk through the doors coffee? better not had loads today walk through the barriers down stairs basement floor turn right silent study area very quiet this’ll do at least I can pretend to learn in silence empty desk sit down books out where to start? so far behind in everything it doesn’t really matter right? damage limitation – start with today read workbook read your notes they make no sense I really should have made better notes in the lecture never mind start in the learning outcomes number one yeah I know that but I can’t write it down so shit maybe I don’t know it? I definitely don’t know it oh shit let’s read about it oh right now I get it………done ten learning outcomes I deserve a break upstairs to the computer room browse net check facebook check email check facebook check email facebook chat send a text check bbc news check bbc sport check email check facebook right time for work oh hang on better print off the lecture slides for tomorrow blackboard username and password semester one select module select lectures select session open powerpoint print double sided handouts collect from printer log off should I do more work? I’ve done enough for tonight surely – it’d be counter productive to do anything now you’re too tired what’s the time? shit it’s midnight walk out library fuck me it’s cold through the park across the road past the chip shop past the bookshop past sainsburys past the butchers past the greengrocers turn right there’s my house unlock door anyone up? don’t care really make lunch for tomorrow some salad thing probably chop tomatoes toss salad make dressing put in fridge crowded fridge starting to smell never mind lights off upstairs laptop on browse net check facebook check email check facebook check email facebook chat send a text check bbc news check bbc sport check email check facebook laptop off get into bed set alarm must change that alarm come to think of it i need to sort out a new phone what day is it tomorrow? Oh shit it’s… forget about it check alarm again christ that’s soon I’ll only get a few hours sleep this definitely isn’t good for me never mind close eyes sleep jarred awake and repeat

A poem about something deep, meaningful and hairy

There’s something amiss with my face.

It’s something that looks out of place.

My top lip – once bare

Is now covered with hair

And I’m starting to look a disgrace.

 

It started not long ago

As test of one’s hirsute ego

But now three weeks in

It’s all over my chin

And its progress I now cannot slow.

 

It’s there in the morn when I rise

It looks like a stupid disguise

I scratch it in thought

Sometimes food gets caught

And it could be my face’s demise.

 

There’s just over one week to go

So please cough up some more dough

It’s for a good cause

(not a round of applause)

Donate and I’ll just let it grow!

 

http://www.justgiving.com/leicmedicsmovember

 

The Burning Question

(sorry in advance about the title)

Pastor Jones' needs to make sure his fire reaches 451F or he'll look like a dick

Some nutter in America has been threatening to mark the anniversary of 9/11 by burning a whole load of Qur’ans; an act which, if you excuse the pun, is a startlingly unoriginal piece of incendiarism. Burning books? It’s all about flags and effigies now. Pyre-based fashions aside, it’s a bit of a stupid thing to do. Its inevitable consequences will be felt across all corners of the globe. Even as I write this there are reports of demonstrations across Afghanistan, with the possibility of violence a very real threat. They are, of course, entitled to burn books, and that should never change, but they should probably think it through properly.

The man at the centre of this, surprisingly, is not Bill O’Reilly. Or even Glen Beck. It’s Pastor Terry Jones, a pistol-carrying right-wing religious lunatic who believes that God has told him to do this. God has also (presumably) told him to write a book called ‘Islam is of the Devil’ which was published -gasp- last month. I’m not usually one to be cynical, as I’m sure you all know, but there’s a certain rat smell around here which just won’t go away. Allegations of tax troubles and and rumours of mortgage foreclosures are painting a picture here, and I just can’t help myself feeling that this just might be a bit of a PR stunt. And if your PR leads you to receive a phone call from the President himself, then damn, you’re doing something right. Annoyingly, if the media were to just ignore him then he’d go away, and wouldn’t be endangering the lives of thousands of men and women fighting and working in areas of Islamic fundamentalism.

The real irony in all this is that if Pastor Twatty Jones were to actually flick through a copy of the Qur’ran he’d realise that it is just like the Bible. What’s more, I think he’d find it to be everything he wished the Bible was. As the quite superb Daily Mash put it: “This is what Christianity would be like if we actually had some fucking balls”.

The whole affair bears a remarkable similarity to Islam4UK’s plan of a parade of coffins through Wootten Bassett, a parade which was later called off after everyone had read all about Islam4UK in the papers. The former leader, Anjem Choudary, has just announced his ‘International Burn an American Flag Day’ in response to to Jones’ ‘International Burn a Koran Day’. What a carry on eh?