Sunday, 26 September 2010

What's time to a hog?

Well I have been a busy boy as of late...

I have found that over the past few months my favourite "day job" has been the reason I haven't posted so much on this here antiquated alleged music site.
Not that I'm complaining. The thing is that anything I've had the urge to whinge, whine and bitch about I've had the weekly opportunity to do so.

However, cobbled together for no ones amusement other than my own a few items that have been getting right on my fucking "titamaboobs":

1) I realised not so long ago that there is a shit load of green space around my adopted home of Ashford Upon Fluffingtonshire, and that makes me hate the fact that more people don't realise that Ashford has it's own ecological areas set about the town to protect wildlife and to protect against flooding. They call it Ken The Ashford Green Corridor.

2) Trendy young men about town dressing up like a.... well like some kind of Jack "penis face" PeƱate.

3) Retarded newspaper headlines / Lack of actual fucking news.

4) I'll just have to flat out say it.
Any chap wearing Uggs is just wrong.
I don't care how comfy you insist they might be, they're wrong oh so very wrong.
All I can say is that in certain cases, to be a famous fella wearing these girliest of girls footwear is still wrong, but it's a good job he was the bomb in Phantoms Yo.
5) I HATE the fact that when I'm asked about my little internet radio show I always belittle it by saying things like "My little internet radio show? It's a show. It's on the internet." rather than give it the full props it really deserves when in comparison to the problems that "bigger" shows have. I find it hard to believe that we're not more popular than we are due to the regularity of shows (every Friday!) and also sheer sound quality. Seriously, most podcasts sound like shit. Our show sounds like we're drinking beer and swearing somewhere between your ears and your brain.

6) Social networking is a massive pain in the arse.
Every fucker tells me pointless fucking factoids every three sodding seconds that doesn't make me like them any more as a person, but does make me want to strangle them... lots and lots of strangling.

7) French people always have a chip on their shoulder.
Here is a conversation I had with a concierge of the hotel I was staying during a recent jaunt to Gay Paris:

C.J: Hello mate, can I get a wake up call for 08:00 please?

Concierge: Certainly sir, That is fine.

C.J: Also, is there anywhere I can buy cigarettes?

Concierge: Nowhere in the hotel sir.

C.J: Oh, ok. Anywhere nearby that you know of.

Concierge: Sir I do not smoke as it is very bad for you, but you are on the 17th floor, why don't you look out of the fucking window. Good night Sir!

What a charmer! I do have to point out that in the interest of fairness all French girls are drop dead stunning and thus fit the usual criteria of my perfect woman, beautiful, bossy, rude and stuck in their pigging ways.

"I just had to wipe this off my chest" C.J Hixon 24th Sept 2010

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