Stuff that pops into my head. Innit.

Tuesday 26 July 2011

"A Swan Dive into the Asphalt"

I know what you're thinking, "That's a strange title for a blog post" - and yes, it is, but allow me to explain. It's a line from the song "Swan Dive" by Hed (PE) and it seems relevant to the -somewhat strange- ending of this post. Bear with me, it'll get better. A bit. Maybe.

Anyway, on the Sunday just gone, my wife, my daughter Gabi and myself had decided to head all the way down to sunny Stirling to check out what is shortly to be her hometown for the next four years or so whilst she's at University (college to you guys across the Atlantic), so we packed up the car and dropped the dog off at my other daughters' on the way. More about the dog later.
So, after what seemed about 58 hours we arrived in Stirling and it's actually really nice. It's the usual mix of traditional stone built houses and modern glass and steel edifices, but with thankfully not too much of the modern that it dominates. All in all, it's a thoroughly pleasant little city. Mid afternoon arrived and we decided to head home and collect Chi from my daughters'. so far, so good. My plan was to stay in the car whilst my wife went up to get Chi, but apparently, both Chi and her mum were so desperate to see me -hey, I'm very popular with Staffys- that they both bolted out of the door. Still, no problem, everything is fine. Chi's mum isn't on the lead, but she's used to that and sprints up to me and gently savages my arm -as she always does- and I'm nearly kissed to death -however, at this point in suddenly aware that my daughter is struggling to hold on to Chi -she's incredibly powerful- and then, all of a sudden, she's loose.
She sprints straight past me. I don't have a hope of catching her. This is one of those times when time seems to stand still - she takes a sudden right turn onto the road, a car swerves and misses her- out of my peripheral vision I can see a large white van  and imagine the meeting of van and dog - and before I have a chance to think I've dived onto the road -goalkeeper style- and caught the dog in my left hand. What a relief.
It was at this point I remembered the van. It missed my head by about a foot. If I was any shorter, I wouldn't have caught the dog, much taller and I probably wouldn't be writing this.
My wife wasn't overly happy -I may be understating things here- and began telling me about the thousands of people who die each year attempting to save their pets from peril. I understand her, of course I do, but I could no more of let Chi get hit by a van than I could her, my children or Hope.
Anyway, both myself and the dog are in severe trouble but never mind, we're both still about.

Chi, in big trouble, yesterday. And today.


Thursday 21 July 2011

Limp Bizkit - Gold Cobra

Just recently I've been having a bit of a listen to Gold Cobra, the comeback album by Limp Bizkit -hey, everyone has to punish themselves from time to time- and it's not exactly brilliant.
To be fair, I don't think anyone was expecting a White Pony from Florida's finest, but this is....well, as the French would say, merde.
Actually, let me qualify that abit. Four fifths of LB are fine with Wes Borland proving beyond any doubt that he's an excellent guitarist, a solid rythmn section and even poor old DJ Lethal lazily scratching away, no doubt reminiscing about the glory days in House of Pain. The problem with Limp Bizkit is Fred Durst.
Moby once described them as "Rape Rock" but I think "Idiot Rock" or maybe "Retard Rock" is far more appropriate. Durst is a man with little to say and a singularly unappealing way of saying it, hearing a 40 year old singing (sort of) about "Haters" and skateboarding is heading into the realms of ridiculousness, and if I think you're ridiculous, you're in serious trouble.
This is by far the worst thing I've heard this year. Well Done.


A gold Cobra, yesterday

Sunday 10 July 2011

State of Origin

Yes, I know its several days after the fact but I don't care.

We lost. They won. The same as it's been for 6 long -really long- years now.
There is however more reason for optimism next year than there has been for quite a while. Firstly, on the back of what may have been the worst SOO performance ever -although Justin Hodges' debut runs it close- Anthony Minichiello won't be there. I'm not sure what Ricky Stuart was thinking including him in the first place, does he really not rate Hayne that much as a fullback? Even if he doesn't, wouldn't Brett Stewart have been the better option?
Yes, yes he would.
There are a few other blues whose spots will be under severe pressure too - Mark Gasnier, Ben Creagh and Mitchell "I've got a tattoo of my own name on my arm" Pearce. In fact, if I was the coach, the only people guaranteed their spot in the 17 would be Gallen, Lewis, Hayne, Uate, Soward and Scott.
Next year NSW will be stronger, Queensland will be weaker. At least that's what I'm telling myself.

Meh


Friday 8 July 2011

The what?

Just a short post, the SOO one isn't ready yet, sorry.

This made me snigger quite a lot.

"'ello, ello, ello, is that mayonnaise sir? I'm afraid you're going to have to come with me"

Thursday 7 July 2011

Incubus - If not now, when?

I could never work out why Incubus weren't more popular. A bunch of good looking guys -apart from the guitarist- who played radio and MTV friendly poppy rock with a bit of an edge. It sounds like a recipe for global success, but, alas, it wasn't. Whether it was the rise of "Nu-Metal" or the fact that they sometimes descended into the realms of Prog-Rock pomposity, Incubus' career never quite reached the heights it could and should have.
But now it's 2011, roughly 10 years after their popularity peaked and they've released a new album- an album which apparently showcases a more mature side to the band.
Yeah, I'm not sure about that either.
Halfway through listening to this, it's becoming clear that the band have used "mature" as a simile. While that would have been fine if mature had been likened to smooth, or even considered, it hasn't been.
Here, mature means dull. Or forgettable. Maybe even dreary.
It has its' moments,  mostly provided by singer Brandon Boyd and his trademark vocal gymnastics - but he's all too often let down by subpar arrangements and production. There's a couple of shrill and squeaky clean ballads on here that could fit straight onto on of those fathers' day special CDs - and that's not a good thing.
Overall, this album isn't exactly bad -there's some decent musicianship and Boyds' voice to redeem it- it just seems a bit half arsed, a bit "that'll do".
Very disappointing.

Incubus yesterday, being mature.





Ps. I'll do a State of Origin wrap tomorrow, when my bitterness has subsided to manageable levels.

Saturday 2 July 2011

Short thoughts. (Sports)

Tonight sees the heavyweight boxing unification bout between David Haye and Wladimir Klitschko and it's an intriguing contest for a few reasons. Firstly it's a classic big man /smaller man contest, with Haye giving away about 4 inches in height and around 40 pounds in weight by the time they actually get in the ring.
You might think that that's an insurmountable disadvantage for the Englishman, but I don't think so. He appears to be in peak condition and he was always fast anyway. It's his speed that will be key to the whole contest.
If Haye can get inside the Kazakh born Ukrainians admittedly impressive jab do some damage and get out, I think he'll win.
I hope he wins.

Nice hat Champ. Brokeface Mountain?





Today is also the start of Le Tour, and it looks like it'll be another walk in the park for Contador - well, it will be unless one of the Schleck brothers, Sanchez or Evans can finally get their shit together.
If (when?) Contador wins, will his victory be tainted because of the failed drug test? Maybe. 
Incidentally, if the Spaniard does win he'll be the first rider to win the Giro and Tour in the same season since Marco Pantani.
I hope  Contadors' story finishes in a different way than The Pirates did.

Contador, yesterday





The Copa America started yesterday and hosts Argentina were held to an underwhelming 1-1 draw with relative minnows Bolivia. Kun Aguero's frankly brilliant volley saved Argentina's blushes, but it doesn't bode overly well for their hopes of winning the tournament.
Brazil will probably win again, sadly.

Brazil -about to win another Copa America, yesterday


Ps. I was right about the tennis then.