Idiot Watch - Louise of London

Today's Times has the tragic story of a teenage army cadet who drowned in a Scottish loch.

Fast forward to the comments........Andrew of Godalming: 
"A tragic event but unfortunately not surprising given the level of incompetence in our armed forces."

Good point Andrew. Then, 2 comments later, an idiot turns up:

"Andrew this happened in the US so how can you refer to 'incompetence in our armed forces.? "

Says Louise of London, mental age of three.

I re-read the article to see how poor Louise got so confused......."Loch Carnan, South Uist..." it sounds distinctly Jockanese to me but, hang on, what's this....it mentions a "sheriff". Poor Louise, who probably knows how to handle a mobile phone, has a Facebook account, and a degree in media studies is blissfully unaware that Scotland has sheriffs too. When she reads that "sheriff" word she sees Kevin Costner in a big hat and disregards every other detail in the story, including the fact that the poor child concerned was from Aberdeenshire (that's in Scotland, Louise).

Louise I take my ten gallon (sheriff's) hat off to you. You are an idiot's idiot. Well done.

Phone Masts and Physics for Dimwits

Are you one of those people campaigning for the removal of phone masts because you believe they are a risk to your health? You are? Oh dear. You need to read a physics textbook and learn about density of radio frequency energy and how that varies with distance.You will soon come to understand that you receive a much larger dose of RF from that thing you are pressing to your ear than from a mast at the end of your lovely garden.

Then read a book about how cellular radio works. If you have more than three brain cells left, you will realise that the less phone masts there are in your area, the more power your Iphone needs to emit and therefore the more your brain gets fried.

I was going to take the tack that this is another example of people expecting safety regulation to provide them with a risk free life but, on reflection, I've concluded that this "fear" is another example of the pseudo science that does the rounds on the Internet, is picked up by the thick as shit media, and feeds the subconscious desire of dimwits to either be scared of, or  outraged by something, or other, every bloody day. 

It is the modern equivalent of the medieval fear of witches though, so far, no one has been burnt at the stake because of it.

Then there is the hypocrisy element: how many of those screaming for the removal of phone masts have thrown away their phone? Not many I would guess.

Sometimes I feel that we are drowning in a sea of stupidity, but that is my own fault for reading the UK papers - as I have previously believed that we were drowning in a sea of feral children, while having our faces bitten off by millions of pit bull terriers, but my anxiety went away when the media moved onto something else - a nice feel good story. 

Like Katie Price and Peter Andre's upcoming divorce.

"For Sure, Murray"

Ahhh wonderful, we are only six races into this years F1 season and the FIA Forsureing championship is very close. World Forsureing champion Lewis Hamilton threw down the Nomex gauntlet on the 14th with this skillful bit of gobbledygook:
"For sure when we get to mid-season if we've still not scored many points, then we will have to knock it on the head,"
Nice one Lewis, showing every bit of the form that made you last year's champ! And this years title contender Jenson Button could only muster this lacklustre response:

"They've been competitive today  and they're one to watch over the next few races, for sure."

Bit disappointing there Jenson, even Nelson Piquet Jr knows that the "For Sure" is most effective at the beginning of the sentence! Despite many years aways from the cockpit of a racing car, Red Bull Racing boss Christian Horner came out with this today:
"There were signs that they'd woken up in Barcelona and for sure 11 points on the board here is a good team result for them."

Well done Christian, however the FIA have controversially decided to disallow your submission as you have a suspiciously Frog sounding name, and being Johnny Foreigner is an unfair advantage when Forsureing - Rule Number 141a (Mansell's Rule): 

"For Sure" only sounds ridiculous when spoken by native English speakers.

The Rehabilitation of Mr James Allen

I am a huge Formula 1 fan, in a very discreet, not painting my face, not going to the pub in 4 year old team jackets with all the wrong colours and sponsors, sort of way.

I have had a strong disregard for Mr Allen since ITV took over F1 and introduced motor racing fans to football style punditry and, non-football style adverts, throughout the event.
Maybe it was those things, or maybe the automatic association with Jim "Spear Chucker" Rosenthal, that led me to believe that he was a bit of a twat.
Nowadays, the BBC present F1 coverage in the UK and James was, apparently, surplus to requirements.

Mr James Allen, please accept my apologies. Now that James has gone back to being a print journalist, and not shrieking "Gooooooooooo!" at the start of each Grand Prix, I have grown to like the old boy and his excellent blog. Well done James!

Hang on, I've just remembered that he named his son "Enzo". Silly twat.

Shite Journalism Num 141

From today's Times, What a lovely example of shite journalism. 

A screaming, sensationalistic headline which is then completely contradicted by the text of the article that goes on to point out that, as WolframAlpha isn't actually a search engine, it is absolutely no threat to Google whatsoever.
I suppose that we can always blame the subby for the headline, but this is a typical example of FactLiteTM journalism. Then read the TwatLog at the bottom. Some bible bashing yank submitted a query about god bothering and got no answer:

"Well, I just punched in "john 3:16" (no quotes) and got... nothing. I then changed my search to "bible john 3:16" (again, sans quotes) and again... nothing. So much for beating Google."

Iphone Marketing

Attention Apple Marketing experts: notice that I wrote the word Iphone using the English language, where a real name begins with a capital letter.
I am sure the Iphone is absolutely lovely. Absolutely sure. However, I will never own one, for the same reasons that I will never own an Ipod.
These reasons, in no particular order are:

• I couldn't bear to put money in the pocket of Steve Jobs.
  
• I am fervently anti-fashion.
  
• I have cunt-lag (constantly behind the times).
  
• I couldn't bear to join the legions of the Apple fascista with their propensity for regurgitating Apple marketing sound bites as a justification for choosing their particular product. “It just works!”. Fuck off, dimwit.
  

I recently saw one of those adverts for the Iphone – you know, the ones that are all speeded up so that it looks like web pages and applications load in milliseconds and only require some incomprehensible swipe of the screen to activate? The advert concluded with something that did catch my eye – a spirit level application. Very impressive. There is just one thing though – are they seriously suggesting that any of the Iphone owning metrosexuals out there would actually know what a spirit level is, how to use it or how to actually put up some shelves?
Iphones are owned by skateboard riding students who have lived at home too long, who stay in bed till at least midday and get their mums to do all of their laundry (mostly jeans, to be strapped around the thighs just below the arsehole of the arsehole who is “wearing” them). 

Or sales representatives..... 

They belong to a generation that will never put up a shelf. Even if they ever grow up and leave home.
Shelves are erected by men called Neville, men with monochrome LCD Nokias. And correctly fitting trousers. Possibly with a bit of a gut hanging over the belt. 

The adverts would be better aimed at the parents who are actually buying the things for little "Jake". Perhaps a shot of a student, rising from his bed at midday and then looking slightly less sullen when he realises that his pathetic parents have stumped up another couple of hundred quid on something to make him fit in better with his happy slapping peers.

And he can keep his old Nokia for when he needs to take pictures, video, or send an MMS.

Behind The Times

Like all miserable old buggers, I'm years behind the times - and proud of it. And tonight I saw The Fifth Element for the first time - a mere 12 years after its release. And now I don't feel miserable at all- because of a lovely young lady called Mila Jovovich. Not only is she the sort of person I would very much like to have full sexual intercourse with, she gets full marks for simply being cute as a button. Her lovely smile makes her far more attractive than any of the dodgy, fake tanned, clamydia riddled, chav slappers, favoured by the footballing elite of the UK.

Attention W.A.Gs! You don't need to be orange and have the loose skin on your chest filled with silicone in order to be beautiful. Put out that fag and learnt to speak, to read, to write.

Sorry, where was I? Oh yes. Mila. Would. Definitely.

And the film is quite good too if you are able to mentally block out Lee Evans doing his oh so hilarious impression of Norman Wisdom. And an even worse impression of an american accent. But I don't need to tell you that because, unless you are a miserable old bugger, you already saw it 12 years ago.

Serving the miserable old bugger demographic....since 2009

So here it is....my first ever blog post.

It's taken a while - I was all ready to begin frothing at the keyboard when Mrs Slagg put a stop to my online publishing ambitions (on account of "now I'll NEVER see you"). 

That was about a year ago, and I'm hoping that she has forgotton all about it. Anyway, I'm at my house at the moment, my forest hideaway, and she's at least 200Km away...so I can do what I like - stay up late, drink wine, fart in bed and, best of all....be a miserable bugger!

Anyway.....the raison d'etre of this blog is to serve the under represented miserable bugger demographic. The internet is very much an extension of the USA and subsequently is full of terribly earnest, positively thinking, american types (with some imagination, I could have made a "TWAT" acronym there, but couldn't be arsed). 

Anyway, all this can-do attitude is all well and good but, after a couple of weeks, it really starts to become annoying......step forward fellow miserable buggers. My mission, our mission, is to save the world from all those cheery, have-nice-day, twats out there....to challenge the earnest dimwits with a bit of humour -  without terminating a sentence with a fucking smiley face or "LOL" (whatever that means). To show those from beyond the Sceptred Isle that self deprecating humour makes you a man. A funny man. To be proud to call yourself a miserable bugger and to truly understand what that means.