The Dangers Of Dangermouse

Christ almighty my fucking hand hurts. I've spent the last two days working virtually non-stop to meet a Classic Rock deadline I only found out about on Monday morning (the deadline, that is). I was up until four thirty this morning, then had three hours sleep, walked the dog and was back on the job by seven fifty ... beat that you lazy, coal-mining sons o' bitches. Anyway, I'm finished now (unless the slave-driver Brad Merrett contacts me to say he needs the whole thing re-done by midday) and feel only 80% shitty (the other 20% being kept at bay by cigarettes).

So what, I know you're dying to ask, have I been up to since last Friday? Well apart from busting my ass for fuck-all money in the employ of swindling bastards, I've aquired a new book and wallowed in nostalgia. Allow me to elaborate ...

Aquiring New Book

It's called The Devil's Disciples and chronicles the careers of the egotistical, brown-nosing fuck-faces who made up Hitler's inner circle. So far I've learnt that Goring was rather too fond of Morphine (aren't we all), Goebbels was an excellent pianist with a club foot (just like Dudley Moore), Himmler was a sucker for gardening, Ernst Rohm (unpleasant chief bully-boy of SS forerunner the SA) had the top of his nose and part of his cheek shot off in World War I, and Adolf Hitler was a lazy fucker who never turned up for anything. It's all very entertaining and I'm looking forward to the bit where Adolf and the boys get their arses kicked by the Allies and have to commit suicide rather than face up to the bother they've caused the world.

Wallowing In Nostalgia

On Sunday I spent seven hours (that's right motherfuckers) watching Michael Palin's Around The World In Eighty Days back-to-back. Not realising at the time I had a deadline in two days, I allowed myself the luxury of wallowing in nostalgia as Michael went hell-for-leather round the planet on his 1988 quest (and much to the annoyance of 'er indoors who wanted to watch Smallville). Thanks to the magic of Cable TV and DVD, it's become rather too easy to waste vast amounts of your life watching old stuff you remember from the good ol' days. I once watched all 20-odd episodes of Willow The Wisp in a row and had the fucking theme tune running around in my head for weeks. My friend buys anything from her childhood she spots on DVD and as a consequence her house is filled to bursting with Ivor The Engine, Captain Pugwash, Doctor Snuggles and all that jazz. And you know what? It's almost all universally SHIT. After spending hours being forced to watch every tu'penny-ha'penny bit of rubbish I saw in the late 70s/early 80s, I've reached the conclusion that all children's television you saw as a youth should remain safely locked away in your memory. If you allow yourself to watch this stuff as a fully-grown adult you will be bitterly disappointed to discover that Bagpuss, Jamie And His Magic Torch, The Flumps and Dangermouse are all a load of badly-made crap. Around The World In Eighty Days, on the other hand, is a different story altogether. It had to be made with adults in mind, not children, and children, as we all know, are gullible, tasteless little fucks who'll swallow any old piece of shit as long as it's in cartoon form.

NOW LEAVE ME ALONE GOD DAMN YOU!