Come on now quick before I die

1/30/2008 09:00:00 pm / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (1)

I don't usually go in for charity work as I find the idea of emotionally blackmailing people out of their surplus income rather vulgar, but I will on this occasion cause it benefits me. This is about my CF clinic. Yes MINE. These are good people who work tirelessly to keep me alive. Can you imagine this godforsaken planet without me in it?? No, doesn't bear thinking about does it people.

So anyway, it looks like some of the staff are running some race or something and need sponsoring cause elsewise I could be dead within days. Seriously man, come on, you should see the facilities in this place. Fucking Alan Johnson. They're still using leeches for infections in the CF wards and we're lucky if we get a TV between us all...I had a wireless last time, but someone had it away when I was asleep. It's not fair man, all the cancer patients and heart disease dudes get DVD players and fridges and table dances. Lucky bastards.

Anyway, it looks like they want to raise £3,000, so if you were just about to give all your charity cash to the cancer people, send it here instead, the cancer dudes are doing fine,

On a slightly more serious note if you happen to want to know more about Cystic Fibrosis, then you're weird cause it's horrible - but the CF Trust Website has all the gory information you'll ever need -

Incidentally, My approach to charity work has in no way been encouraged or influenced by Oxford Radcliffe Hospitals Charitable Funds ..these were all my own words.

Fantasy Poker

1/30/2008 04:36:00 pm / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (2)

Now then, it is entirely possible I have given this more thought than was actually necessary, but that's the kinda guy I am and I make no apologies for it. Mob member theGame has put together a variation of the 'ideal dinner guests' conundrum, the idea is put together THE home poker game; a fantasy poker game if you will, so this afternoon I have put together what I feel is the superlative home game.

Now then, as with dinner parties I've chosen a wide spectrum of personalities and seated them appropriately. I think it's important when entertaining, to seat people with mutual interests together, but as we're putting together a poker game and I am the host, it adds an extra element of intrigue as we also have to seat people strategically in order to give ones self the best chance of winning which, let's be honest, is the priority in any poker game.

As this is the ultimate home game I've gone a step further an appointed a dealer, tournament director, waitress and also, since such a field would surely arouse media interest, I've chosen a brace of commentators too. So with this in mind, I've chosen the following guests:

Seat 1: Osama Bin Laden,
Seat2: Larry David,
Seat 3: George W. Bush
Seat4: Roger Moore
Seat5: Me
Seat6: Jen Mason
Seat7: Basil Brush
Seat8: Doyle Brunson
Seat9: Chris Rock
seat10: Stephen Fry

Dealer: Muhammad Ali
Tournament Director: Arsene Wenger
Waitress: Scarlett Johansson
Commentators: Jesse May and Victoria Coren

It's a supreme line-up I think you'll agree. They often say that one should never discuss religion or politics at dinner parties, but fuck all that, we want to spice things up a little here and get as many people on tilt as possible, so of course Islamic fruit cake Osama Bin Laden will have the button on Christian fruit cake George W. Bush's big-blind with Jewish comedian Larry David on the small-blind.

I've seated myself two to the left of George W. Bush as I don't someone who can actually play poker on the button when I'm posting the big blind (I told you I'd given this more thought than was necessary). Roger Moore is to my right to cope with any diplomatic issues should they develop between George and Osama and also to teach me how to make a waitress moist just by ordering a Vodka Martini.

Continuing with the weaselly strategic seat placings, I've put the two professional poker players: Jen Mason and Doyle Brunson in the most vulnerable positions (oo-er) when I'm on the button; small-blind and Under-the-gun respectively, with Basil Brush on the steal-tastic big-blind.

The final two places are occupied by the remaining two of my favourite three comedians, (Larry David being the third) Chris Rock and Stephen Fry. Stephen Fry provides insurance against any conversational hiatus as he knows everything and Chris Rock completes the mix with some more controversial offerings.

Obviously you want a night like this to last so I've chosen Muhammad Ali to deal as his Parkinson's Disease ought to guarantee many mis-deals with the cards in those shaky hands of his flying all over the place.

But we also want the game to run smoothly and with such a diverse selection of players we need a tournament director with an air of authority who can cope with strong personalities diplomatically and tactfully but with a sense of humour and for my money only Arsene Wenger satisfies these criteria.

Our waitress for the evening will be Scarlett Johansson and our commentators will be the voice of poker Jesse May and the voice of many a mans filthiest wet dreams Victoria Coren.

I think you'll agree we have a mix of not too subtle but beautifully blended personalities here and some intriguing options should we have too much to drink and fancy trapping off with someone.

As with all home games the potential for chaos should simmer below the surface, before boiling over..however, as the object of the exercise here is to put together the game to end all games, our player dynamic has been blended, deliberately and fittingly, to offer the literal potential for Apocalypse.

Aww bless her

1/30/2008 05:31:00 am / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (0)

I'd like you to join me in finding this amusing and kinda sweet. I happened to be watching MTV at 5 O'clock this morning; what I was doing up at that time is my business, but I happened upon something odd.

They had some one signing along to one of the songs; Happy Ending by Mika. I found this odd because although a deaf person can understand what's being sung, there's surely no way they can hear the music or gain any kind of awareness of the rhythm of the music..UNLESS!

Unless you get a nice signing lady to dance along to the music, thus giving the deaf person at least some kind of appreciation of the mood of the music. I wish I had a deaf person with me at the time to sing along to it so I could compare their version to the original.

For a laugh I'd have had her head banging just to confuse all the deaf viewers.

One step forward two steps back.

1/28/2008 11:34:00 pm / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (2)

They say Omaha is a drawing game and so it was this evening, but it was conclusions I was drawing this evening not straights and flushes. I appear to have two equal but very opposite forces within competing for my actions.

Conjoined personalities; one side is logical, reasonable, sane; the other has all the mental lucidity and flexibility of someone who's had his head smashed in in a car accident.

And thus tonight; with an enormous bet to call, the sane logical side of my brain told me I was obviously beaten and while frustrating, it was an easy lay down. As I was saying this to myself however, the retarded side of my brain was throwing a stack of chips into the pot which immediately made it's way over to the guy with the winning hand.

Why did I call? What happened? Before I could say, 'come on Rich just one more spoonful' my retarded half had effectively ended my participation in the tournament and was probably off cackling away to itself in parts of my psyche I wouldn't visit at night time without a good psychiatrist at my side.

My good side shall have the mark of Cain upon itself, but it must kill my spastic side or I might as well play bingo. So it goes, nurse, the screens please.

The Meadows

1/28/2008 03:36:00 pm / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (0)

So, I'm booked up. I'm going to Vegas in May. It's been ten years since I last went there and I only went cause the Italian creature I was shacking up with at the time in Arizona insisted I see the place. Little did I know she had a gambling addiction that made Paul Merson look like a £2 punter.

She sat herself down at the slots, I left her alone for twenty minutes to have a look around Caeser's Palace and when I returned, there she was...GONE!! I found her eventually staring into a Black Russian. Once he'd left I asked her what she was doing and why had her face gone so pale. She told me she'd lost $1,000 and we had to go home.

We'd only been there about two hours. Fortunately I was able to force her into prostitution and we stayed for the weekend and I was able to have a jolly old time meeting all sorts of people with new and interesting ideas on how to misbehave.

So, it's lesson learned. To be fair, it's not the sort of place you want to take a significant other, if you must indulge in that weekend away romance bollocks you can go to Paris can't you or Vienna or Niagra Falls. Vegas in my chauvinistic opinion is for chaps - assless leather chaps surrounding a backside you can bounce a coin off preferably. Women in Vegas should be dressed in PVC and be able to fire ping-pong balls out from between the lips they don't kiss with, that's what I always say.

I'm joking of course. This is strictly a poker playing odyssey. I just want to play in Binnions, and make a few quid in the cash games around the various casino's..I will not allow my previous inner tyrannical demons to lead me astray. I am pure I am good I am pure I am good I am pure I am goo.. let's go fucking mental let's go fucking mental arrghhh no no no I am good I am pure.

Ahuhuh - thank you very much.

McGCSE's and McA-Levels to go

1/28/2008 02:38:00 pm / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (0)

McDonald's has won approval to offer courses which could form part of a qualification at the standard of A-levels or advanced Diplomas.

I heard about this on the radio earlier today as I was driving myself towards the sandwich shop. I nearly crashed into a women walking a Red Setter when they introduced a spokesman from McDonalds as his name was actually Ronald. Really, if your name was Ronald the last place you'd want to work is McDonalds unless of course you had a supreme sense of humour.

Pie in the sky

1/26/2008 10:52:00 pm / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (0)

Funny result at Liverpool today. Even funnier seeing a fat kid crying. Contrary to what the commentators may have said, this kid was not crying out of pure joy as his team took the lead against the mighty Liverpool, no sir - the kid was crying cause his pie was knocked out of his hand when the celebrations went up. Said his tears - what's a meaningless goal prior to an eventual and entirely predictable thrashing compared to the meaty goodness of Anfield's Steak and Kidney pies.

Jesus, if the Germans try again these are our allies!

1/25/2008 07:41:00 pm / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (0)

How is it possible to be this ignorant? Is she related to George W. Bush? The lump of shit I pushed out of my anus this afternoon knew that France was a country, it's on its way there now probably.

For fucks sake, even if you were born in a barn somewhere in the deepest most inbred parts of Alabama you still ought to know that France is a country within Europe which is a continent.

You don't have to know that Budapest is Hungary's capital, but you should know that it exists and you should definitely know that Europe isn't a fucking country, Christ almighty what a fucking retard.

If she thinks Europe is a country I don't fancy her chances with the 6 year old history questions either. It's enough to make you weep. The real tragedy here is she's playing for charity. Did the charity pick her?? No way, she must have been imposed on them.

I'd be pissed off if I suffered from whatever disease or condition she's raising money for. I bet all the blind kids are at home all pissed off; "Man, the cancer charity got Bill Gates and we get stuck with this fucking retard, doesn't even know Europe is a continent. She ought to be raising money for herself."

Taking things personally

1/25/2008 01:05:00 pm / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (0)

Back in my college days I had my own football magazine with the amusing title "Football, tits and slags." I once wrote an hilarious article about Leeds Uniteds Ghanaian striker Tony Yeboah headlined "Tony Yeboah ate my mower," it was gold, but it wasn't as funny as this. The text below is Peter Ndlovu's column on the African Nations Cup:

Things have been quiet this month so when I sat down to write this article my mind went blank. Although the following tale has very little to do with the game of football, fans will still find it quite entertaining. It is from the 2006 African Nations Cup in Egypt.

We had just played our final group game, ending on a high by beating a strong Ghana side but still crashing out of the tournament. At the hotel that night we decided to have a few drinks and toast to our victory. I had invited my friend Tony Yeboah along (fans of English football will remember him from his highly successful period with Leeds United) as he had been watching the match.

The lads started giving Tony a lot of stick for his country's loss, especially our head coach Charles Mhlauri. Tony was taking it quite gracefully but, as a proud Ghanaian, I could sense his patience was wearing thin. Nevertheless, the drinks kept flowing and so did the jokes.
It came to the end of the night and some of the lads had disappeared to bed, most notably our coach and Tony.

Now during the whole tournament Charles had personally entered the hotel rooms of our most lazy players (Benjani was the worst) and pulled them out of bed in the morning to get ready for training so myself and a couple of the other lads decided to repeat the routine on him.

We got the keys from reception and seven of us bundled into his hotel room at 4 a.m. To our horror it was not Charles who we found in bed, it was Tony Yeboah. The worst part was that he was having sex with Charles' wife!
I quickly rounded the boys up and ushered them out of the room, frantically hoping to keep a lid on the situation. After all, it was I who invited Tony to the party!

We found Charles in one of the hotel bathrooms. He had had far too much to drink and crashed out.
The next morning, at breakfast, I quizzed Tony about what happened and he delivered a line which I will remember all my life: "When a man insults my country I insult him, by taking his woman."

Charles did eventually find out about the incident and I think he separated from his wife for a period. The last I heard though was that they are back together and he's now coaching in the USA.

Quite right too Tony and with this principle in mind would the following please insult my country:

Brad Pitt
Justin Bower
Dougray Scott (gay name)
Cash Warren
Barney Rubble

I find this both amusing and terrifying

1/25/2008 01:34:00 am / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (0)

So anyway...

1/24/2008 09:38:00 pm / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (0)

I've just bought a t-shirt. You don't have to tell me how cool it is cause I already know. People look at me funny when they become fully aware of my appetite for Spider-man merchandise.

I don't know why, it's perfectly reasonable for a grown man to sport such cool casual wear and have a bust of the webbed crusader burned into his flesh by a Maori tattooist.

Have you ever found yourself mooching about on an afternoon shrouded with an impending sense of doom and foreboding? I've been troubled by this very sensation today. I feel as if something bad has happened or is about to happen, but if the truth be told I have absolutely nothing to worry about at the moment.

In fact, I'm in such a good mood I didn't even wave my fist at the kid who throw a tennis ball at my car this afternoon. Weird no? Perhaps I've just had a nasty dream and it's embers are still glowing somewhere in what passes for my subconscious, oui? Or I've bonded with a symbiote like in Spider-man 3 and I'm about to go bandy? Oh, I hope it's that.

Anyway, what I really wanted to discuss this evening is my progress with Omaha. I've been learning you see and if the truth be told I'm making hard work of it. I have 17 days until the GUKPT £250 PLO freeze-out and quite frankly I'm not ready. I've been reading a book written (so it says on the cover) by Sammy Farha..they say he's one of the best, but his style on first appearance, unlike his jewellery, looks to be expensive.

Essentially he seems to advocate raising the fuck out of every pot and hoping everyone eventually folds, which is fair enough if you have several thousand dollars in the inside pocket of your fake Gucci single breasted jacket pocket, but not if you're surviving on a shoe string budget, or in my case a velcro strap budget. Did you ever make fun of the fat kid at school who had velcro straps on his Dunlop trainers cause his fat parents couldn't afford a decent pair of Nikes?

So, anyway...I've figured out that Aces can be expensive and wraps are good..which is nice cause those are my favourite kind of sandwich. I'm joking of course, I now understand the game inside out and can play every hand blind, but I'm gonna play up to my 'tourist in Vegas' table image before releasing the venom within my game and having everyones chips away. I plan to buy some shiny suits and a cool pair of Spider-man pajamas with my profits.


Know what it is yet?

1/24/2008 02:38:00 am / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (2)

It's funny cause it's true

1/22/2008 08:38:00 pm / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (0)

Nothing to see here

1/22/2008 06:28:00 pm / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (0)

Tell me why, I don't like Mondays...etc

1/22/2008 02:19:00 am / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (0)

The science boffins are saying January 21st is the gloomiest day of the year. A complicated set of equations have been used to determine this apparently. My thinking is I'd rather they hadn't bothered pursuing this line of research. It gives miserable people a reason to be even more miserable. They ought to do a separate series of calculations now to make up for it. I'd like to read in the Daily Mail later on today that January 22nd is the sauciest day of the year where slutty types are most likely to oblige any requests to get their bouncers out. Something along those lines anyway.

As Mondays go, mine was quite reasonable I don't mind telling you. I was able to have a lovely cup of tea when I woke up and some lovely sandwiches for lunch while I watched Clash of the Titans and my afternoon concluded with a nice poo; one of those poo's where you don't have to wipe afterwards. Awesome. I then played poker, eeked into the money, came home and enjoyed a final sandwich, which brings me to here. What more can a man ask from his Mondays? Science Schmience, that's what I always say, I'm still pissed off at them for the Mercury thing. What day of the year is it where the damn science community are most likely to figure something out that can actually benefit us all that's what I want to know. Bloody eggheaded, four eyed sexual retards.

Some stuff

1/21/2008 01:42:00 am / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (0)

So there's a couple of issues we need to discuss. First off this plane that crashed last week; a Boeing 777 piloted by a dude called Coward. No one died and the consensus view was that the passengers had all been very lucky. NO! They may not have died, but it was still a fucking plane crash. If it's lucky to be in a plane crash let me always be unlucky. They were not lucky, media people. What are the odds, really, of being involved in a plane crash? It's thousands to one. This was not luck. It's just degrees of bad luck.

Another thing that disappointed me about this whole episode was the sorry headlines the tabloids came up with the day after the crash. You've got a plane called 777, lucky or unlucky passengers depending on your point of view, returning from China and a hero co-pilot called Coward and all they came up with was: "Coward is a Hero" and " Coward becomes a Hero" and variations there of. What a load of shit. My headline would have been ....."Nonce prevents voyeuristic death fest for the rest of us"

Speaking of China, what's Gordon Brown playing at visiting them? Since when was nurturing inter-species relations a priority? I didn't see that in the Labour Party manifesto. As far as I'm concerned I wouldn't want the British Government having anything to do with that lot until they start making safer toys. I think the sooner Gordon Brown is involved in a hideous fire ball of a plane crash the better we'll all be; humans and aliens.

If I have to hear one more fucking time how our we're all basking in an economic Shangri-La I'll swallow my own tongue and end my time on this Earth while the humans are still in charge. I'm no economist, I did study it at College, but I spent most of my time playing battle ships with my mate Dave...but anyway I do know that an economy built on credit will collapse around us eventually and we'll all cry and end up eating Gruel like Oliver Twist.

If the economy is built on a foundation of public spending, but the money comes from Credit Cards and loans, we do not people, I repeat, we do not, have a healthy economy. It's a lie...A LIE!!! It's like saying you have an incredible sex life just cause you've had sex three times a week with beautiful women for the past two years, but those beautiful women were hookers and you paid top dollar for it. It's built on a false premise and it's hardly healthy is it? IS IT? It's healthier just to shag twice a month and it be with someone you haven't had to pay and who you share ice cream with and whisper sweet nothings to, I think you know what I'm trying to say. Thumbs down from me Mr Brown, that's what I always say.


You may have heard that I won the Pigeons game tonight. Oh yes. Second time running if you please. It all appeared to be almost a normal game comparatively speaking though. It was kind of eerie really. There was, you know, just sort of normal play really. I I won anyway so that's all I've got to say really. I know, I'm scared too. It's like how it goes all calm before a category 5 storm destroys a city. I'm scared of turning up for the next one.


Speaking of extreme weather, this is just bullshit. The NFC Conference game is on at the moment. Green Bay would appear to be the coldest place on the planet at the moment and that includes the bottom of the tub of my ice cream that's in my freezer. It's -2 Fahrenheit. FUCKING FAHRENHEIT!! That's -20 or something in real temperatures (Celsius). What the fuck were they thinking building a city in a place that gets that cold? Humans can't thrive in those conditions. This may explain why all the really evil serial killers - the kind of dudes who keep kids and hookers in dungeons - are all from Wisconsin. This kind of weather must drive you crazy. People out in the sticks must get cut off from civilisation for months.

No wonder no New York fans have turned up. You'd cheer a touchdown and instead of getting your arse kicked like in any other stadium they'd shove you in the back of a pick-up truck, take you to their home dungeon and tie you to a metal bed with your own tendons for a year and cut your knob off and starve you and stuff and only Anthony Hopkins would know who the kidnapper was or something.

It'd be like Seven and Silence of the Lambs in one. What is it about Americans and building cities in unsuitable areas? There's a couple of rules of thumb for building a city you silly silly people. First off, avoid areas where the cockroaches are the only species that can tolerate the climate. Second; do not build a thriving metropolis on a land mass that may at any moment crack open and swallow the entire city in a matter of minutes. Thirdly and finally, avoid areas that get blown away or flooded in fierce 200mph hurricanes every single year. It's not complicated, it's common sense for the most part. Ah, I've answered my own question. If you'd have stayed with Mother England you wouldn't have these problems.

It's quite late now but I'm having coffee if you please. I've come to using organic milk and it makes swirly patterns in the coffee. I've been using it to aid my soothsaying. This morning my latte told me I was due to have a boob job, but then I added sugar and I read that I was being lied to.

The End.


1/20/2008 03:06:00 am / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (0)

The Hoff V Gerardo

1/19/2008 10:34:00 pm / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (0)

A heavyweight clash of ladies men if ever there was one.
(don't watch on a full stomach.)

Are you making this face now?

Secret Question?

1/17/2008 11:54:00 am / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (0)

I wanted to buy one of those cool wireless Mighty Mouse things for my Mac today as I've broken my current one. Anyhoo, the online Apple sto asked me for my password which I had forgotten so asked me a secret question to verify myself. It's usually mothers maiden name or first pets name ain't it? Something you'll never forget anyway, but on this occasion it was something a bit different:
I don't recall setting this question myself which I assume I must have done. I answered yes, but they said that was wrong. Did I really set this question myself, or are Apple asking everyone this question? We may never know. I think the answer my have been 'do bears shit in the woods,' something like that.

Mercury as we've never seen it before

1/16/2008 10:32:00 pm / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (4)

Holy planets Batman! This is amazing. The Messenger Probe (aaah, I see what you've done there with the name) has beamed back some piccies of the side of Mercury the Mariner Probe missed in the 70's, which was the last time they spent 400 billion bucks on a flying camera in order to take pictures of something they could have seen for $5 just by purchasing the Junior Encyclopedia of space. Here it is look:

Amazing eh? It's been well worth it. All those genius science dudes toiling away for hours and hours and years and years spending billions and billions of dollary-doos to build something that can transverse the universe and here's the fruits of their labour. Incredible, amazing, fascinating.

If there's one minor criticism though of the whole project, which probably cost the same as a few hundred hospitals and required a collective genius that could have cured all diseases and probably even death in the same time - my one tiny criticism, is that the side of Mercury this thing has photographed, the side these science boffins were so desperate to see, does look quite a lot like the other fucking side, so I'm not entirely convinced these pictures represent value for money.

Bush back and looking forward to the past

1/16/2008 08:49:00 pm / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (0)

We haven't discussed our good friend George W. Bush for a time. He's been conspicuous by his absence. Dick Cheney probably hid him away in one of those man sized safes he keeps in his office so he wouldn't say anything dumb prior to his bizarre trip to the Middle East.

A prudent measure cause sure as eggs is eggs, the Bushisms began to flow like wine once he landed and this beauty he seduced the US troops in Kuwait with, is proof if any were needed that he hasn't lost his touch:

"There is no doubt in my mind when history was written, the final page will say: Victory was achieved by the United States of America for the good of the world"

When History was written, the final page WILL say?? Huh? He's talking in present tense about what the past will say in the future? The final page of history was written just now wasn't it cause it's the present now? This is Gold, absolutely vintage Bush.

And what's this "Victory was won by America" business? Whenever this administration has been criticised in the past about the US undermining the United Nations and going it alone and ignoring the global community and so on they have always insisted this was an Allied invasion/occupation/liberation - call it what you will. Now when it comes to actually winning, all the spoils belong to America and America alone?

It remains to be seen what the History books will ultimately say about Iraq, but I think about Bush and his administration, when the final chapter was written, it should read: "he is a dumbass wasn't he as is Cheney was now."

He IS the Mesiah

1/16/2008 06:01:00 pm / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (1)

He was right you know, W.C. Fields, when he said, If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. Then quit. There's no point in being a damn fool about it.” When Kevin Keegan was attacked with baseball bats when asleep in his Range Rover in a lay-by on the M25 in the small hours of the morning in 1991 - which is a perfectly reasonable thing for a high profile figure to be doing, and was in no way linked to a sordid sex act (cough cough dogger cough) - something must have been jarred lose and triggered a slow decline into senility. I cannot think of any other reason for him returning to Newcastle after the pigs arse he made of himself last time round.

It's amusing to me that the Toon Army refer to Keegan as the Messiah. The irony is as thick as Tyne fog. They really ought to stop bouncing about in front of the Sky Cameras for just a second and consider what a Messiah actually is. It's someone who's followed blindly by a group of people whose faith is unquestioning, who ultimately is killed off in some horribly painful way after a dismal failure (see the video below after Newcastle squandered a 15 point lead to Manchester United with about ten minutes to go in the season). This is going to end in tears, they won't listen to reason though. Reason is like kryptonite to a fanatic. I fear to watch yet I cannot turn away.

Mathew 15:14: -
"Let them alone: they be blind leaders of the blind. And if the blind lead the blind, both shall fall into the ditch."

Ray of sunshine

1/16/2008 04:20:00 pm / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (0)

Just been watching snooker as it goes. It's immediately apparent watching Rays Stubbs how much happier and more comfortable he is when he's covering the snooker than when the BBC embed him in the army of pikeys down at Frimley Green for coverage of the darts.

There's a warmth in his smile and his general countenance is one of friendship and genuine interest when chatting to Terry Griffiths and Steve Davis, which is in stark contrast to the fear and loathing in his eyes when he's discussing the finer points of darts with Bobby George.

Bobby might be discussing a certain players form or performance in a match and behaving perfectly amiably, but all Ray seems to hear is, "you come near me again, i'll cutcha, i'll do fucking time for you you short arsed spud faced chancer."

Housewife hears of sale at Marks and Spencers

1/15/2008 01:01:00 pm / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (0)

I am awesome, I am awesome, I am awesome

1/15/2008 01:20:00 am / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (0)

See what that is people? That's a Google search of my name that is and this is my book all those Random House subscribers have been signing up to be made aware of.

It's a poker novel. It follows a dude's progress through a poker tournament and makes all sorts of profound observations about life using poker as a metaphor, it's also so funny you'll shit yourself laughing so I recommend you read it on the toilet.

Actually it's not really. I'm using a cunning Jedi mind trick on myself. It will be though...oooh yes, it will be (say in convincing Yoda voice). An element of the law of attraction - which is obviously a legitimate scientific principle - suggests that the easiest way to acquire something is to behave as if it's already in your possession. I've been meaning to write this book for sometime now, but one of the reasons why I have procrastinated so much with it has been an inability to imagine it ever coming to fruition.

Wondering into Borders or Ottakars and seeing a novel written by me on the shelves appeared to me to be an ambition I was unlikely to realise. So I'm using these unquestionably legitimate processes to give my self belief a boost. OK it's bullshit really, but when I made this cover and wrapped it around a book it all suddenly seemed more believable.

I reckoned if I had something tangible to hold in my hand it would help my tiny mind accept the idea that it's not a pipe dream and that in actual fact, I am awesome at this writing lark and if J. f*cking K. Rowling can become a cazillionaire writing clichéd nonsense about a bastard wizard, then I can write an original poker story intriguing enough to sneak into a High Street book shop.

If it works and I eventually get this thing published, I'm gonna buy one of those inflatable women and dress it up like Felicity Kendall and she should then arrive on my doorstep naked except for some muddy wellies and couple of sticks of spicy pepperami hidden about her person.
If it doesn't work, then I am down to the felt, out of ideas, buggered and I shall spend my days in a dark room rocking back and forth forever more just like Arthur Fowler. The steaks have never been higher.

Disabling the disabled?

1/14/2008 03:17:00 pm / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (1)
Oscar Pistorius has failed in his bid to be allowed to compete in the Beijing Olympic games, but will be appealing. Groan, tut, eyes-rolling sigh.

This is a perfect example of how bad we all are at integrating disabled individuals into society. When I say we I mean disabled people and the able-bodied.

It's Monday afternoon, so I'm going to preach to you all. So if you're sitting uncomfortably, then we'll begin.

The term disabled in this case is a misnomer here. To be disabled means to have an inability to perform something, oui? If Mr Pistorius can run 400m in 46 seconds he’s hardly disabled is he? I couldn’t run 400m in any time, not even if there was an inexhaustible supply of chocolate rice-krispy cakes waiting for me at the other end as my prize and I do so love chocolate rice-krispy cakes.

I’ll continue to use those terms though cause I can’t think of a suitable alternative at the moment. No, what we have here is an athlete, we can all agree on this. But, his athleticisms defining qualities are his mechanical legs. There is no such thing as equal in terms of physical ability. One dude will always be taller than another for example, or have different levels of muscle tone, or stamina, but they’re all equal in so far as they are all flesh and blood.

If you’re going to let someone into a race with mechanical legs then I’m buying a Cheetah and I’m campaigning to have it entered into the next Greyhound Derby because it’s tantamount to letting different species compete against each other.

* * *

You see now people, as a consequence of my own disability, I've been dealing with discrimination my whole life. From my experiences, I think the problem with all this is that disabilities place a huge burden on an individual and much of that burden is emotional baggage; resentment, frustration, anger etc etc and it’s very easy to demand that society shoulder some of that burden as there is no one else to appeal to.

But, an individual’s disability is not societies fault. And those demands are in many cases, unreasonable. Everyone has problems and they all manifest themselves in different ways. Disabilities are just a very obvious one and so, in many cases, are afforded an exaggerated degree of support from society. Obviously there are extreme disabilities which this argument does not apply to, but that's not what this wee entry is concerned with.

So anyway, I think these demands are unfair on everyone not fortunate enough to have their legs chopped off or be born with some sort of incurable disease, but are still dealing with issues every bit as disabling but without being quite so obvious.

I think everyone should have in mind an idea of what would constitute a perfect life. So the challenge in life is to overcome all the obstacles in the path of that perfect life that fate places in front of it, or as many of them as possible in order to realise it, oui?

Now then, a disability is a big obstacle. Sometimes an overwhelming obstacle. I for example suffer from Cystic Fibrosis, an incurable lung disease sporting a life expectancy of 35. This is an obstacle that is essentially, insurmountable, but it’s the only obstacle I’m facing. I have no other concerns; not really.

I can never get over this obstacle and no one can give me a leg-up either, so the challenge for me is to figure out a way of accepting it and manoeuvring my way around it, in much the same way as those cunning blonde haired Nazi’s did in manoeuvring their way around what were considered to be impenetrable blockades along the Maginot Line. It certainly doesn’t mean my life is over.

But at the same time, I have to recognise and accept that my health is not the fault of society and society and the individuals within it, all have their own problems to deal with, which collectively, present just as a big an obstacle to them as my own health issues. So, I ask that people as much as possible to make allowances for my condition; to recognise I can't walk very far and that I'm not very strong and I can't digest sweetcorn etc., but in all other areas and aspects of my life I have to insist and accept that I'm treated in the same way as anyone else.

* * *
There’s an advert running at the moment about integrating disabled people into the work place. One dude with arthritis wants an office on the ground floor so he doesn’t have to negotiate a couple of flights of stairs. Fair do’s, nothing wrong with that. Another dude has poor eyesight and wants a calculator with large worries. But the third example is a woman in a wheel chair who wants to work in a supermarket and so they have to build her a custom-made checkout so she can work there. Hmmm, no. Much like Mr Pistorius, I think this is asking too much.

Making allowances in order to integrate disabled folks into society is not a one-way street. It takes compromise from both parties. If this woman’s burning ambition is to work in Tesco’s, then OK fair enough if that’s what you really really want to do with your life, then let's get a nice low checkout built, but it’s not is it? You just want to work somewhere probably where you can interact with the public and just have a means of getting out of the house and providing for yourself so you're not dependent on Government handouts and charity. Great, but...

Why not work somewhere else where the facilities are already in place to accommodate a wheelchair user? Why not work in some other shop where they don’t have spend a few thousand pounds on a new desk? What’s the appeal of supermarket work? Do you so love canned goods you must work there? No, so how about compromising your own designs a little and working somewhere that would cause less disruption?

Mr Pistorius too, sorry fella, but what you’re asking is unreasonable. You’re campaigning for something, which just isn’t fair and places too many demands on the IOC, the IAAF and all the other athletes. And if your contention is that IOC aren’t accommodating enough when it comes to disabilities, well I think the fact that they organise a whole separate games for people in your position is evidence enough that they do care and they do want you to compete. If you consider competing in these games less of a challenge are you not guilty yourself of discrimination and prejudice towards other Paralympians?

* * *

This whole argument reminds me of that scene in the Life of Brian where Eric Idle's character wants to campaign for his right to have babies. I’m afraid it’s the same as many campaigns undertaken by disabled people. If you're disabled, by definition, there are going to be some things you just cannot do and it's no ones fault. As I said there is no such thing as equal and unequal across the board, but someone with one foot is not equal to someone with both lower extremities. Someone mentally handicapped is not equal to someone with a three figure IQ.

If you have a speech impediment you ought not to demand that the BBC hire you as a Newsreader. If you have only one arm, let’s not demand the Fire Service hire you to rescue people from burning buildings. If you’re a wheelchair users let’s not demand Tesco’s build new fixtures and fittings to accommodate you and if you’re 30% bionic let’s try not lose any sleep over the Olympic Committee’s refusal to allow you to compete with 100% flesh and blood athletes.

In real terms, let’s just try to be a bit more grown up about this. Common sense and compromises from both parties rather than demands and campaigns. That’s how we’ll purge discrimination towards the disabled from our society, which to be honest is as much a consequence ofactions of the disabled as it is ignorance on the part of the able-bodied.

Everyone with a disability has exploited it in some way while at the time time demanding they be treated equally. Only with compromise, honesty and common sense will ever reach a level playing field as it were, where finally we can all be miserable and suffer on equal terms, that's what I always say.

OK The End.

Smelling the streets of Liverpool in Cardiff

1/13/2008 04:10:00 pm / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (2)

APAT Welsh National Event - Grosvenor Casino Cardiff
200 runners-ish

10,000 Chips - 40 Minute clock
2 Day Event

Losers interview

This is the third time in a row you’ve stunk the place up at an APAT national event, how did this effort differ from the others?

Actually I did ok on this occasion, comparatively speaking. I was playing pretty well and built my stack up to about 34,000. The wheels started to fall off approaching the dinner break as I went from being nicely drunk, to pissed, and near on c*nted. Having said that, I was still going ok.

The one mistake I made was coming over the top of a guy without looking at his stack, he was committed and had Ace-King anyway. I sheepishly turned over King-Jack, but rivered him: One of the few occasions I’ve apologised and actually meant it. But that hand was an aberration, I played ok for someone that came very close to pissing in his own pants a few times.

Talk us through Day 1. You got to comfortably above average chips pretty quickly, what were the key situations that enabled you to blow it out your arse and piss your chips away to all and sundry?

Well, it took some doing actually, but as I've already alluded to, it wasn’t entirely my fault. I stole quite a few pots initially and I picked on a few people who I felt looked a little vulnerable. I got lucky with the King-Jack hand as I mentioned, and hit some good flops too.

Once I got to about 34,000 I really had to knuckle down if I was going to mess this up, but fortunately I contrived to get all my chips in the middle with pocket 6’s against pocket Kings. This was the hand immediately before the dinner break and set me up nicely to fuck the rest of my stack away quick-style once play resumed.

What were you realistically hoping for when you came back after the dinner break?

I was looking to be out within an hour. I didn’t eat anything at the dinner break and after - I think - the seventh pint, my eyes got really warm and I was the perfectly balanced man; half man half lager. I still had to some how figure out a way of losing 24,000 chips, which at that time was still well over the average.

I was able to lose about 12,000 when my own Ace-King lost to 8-9off and with about 12,000 left I think I decided to chase a flush and couldn't catch up. That was all she wrote really. I smelt the streets of Liverpool. Compared to the errors I made in Walsall though, I played like a champ in this event.

You have a history of donking off your chips in the hand immediately after the breaks, why did you choose to f*ck them away immediately preceding the break on this occasion?

It wasn’t something I chose to do consciously. I think I have a sixth sense when it comes to spotting completely unnecessary ways to lose chips. Losing 10-15,000 on the hand immediately after the dinner break had become so passé so it was nice to lose them on the hand before it this time around.

Before the dinner-break you were three sheets to the wind already, was it a conscious decision not to eat and see how drunk you could get and still pass as human?

At this point everything was on a semi-conscious level. I hadn’t eaten since about 9.30 that morning but I wasn’t hungry. I felt if I could just sink six or seven more pints I might reach a stage where I was clinically dead which would have enabled me to play on a different plain to everyone else.

I thought I saw Elvis on one of my trips to toilet. He’s a lot taller in real life.

Looking back on the event, what would you do differently?

I read a story recently about a magician in Mexico who performed the old ‘catch-a-bullet-in-the-mouth,’ trick.

One guy in the audience was so amazed he stood up and drew his gun and shouted to the magician, “Hey man, do it again, catch this one,” and shot him in the face.

What I need to remember is you can only fool people so many times before it eventually comes back to haunt you. Either people are gonna realise you’re at it or be too stupid to realise and play back at you anyway.

I’ve promised myself next time once I’m comfortably above the chip average I’ll calm the fuck down and play Harrington style hold ‘em until it becomes necessary to change gears again. I’m also going to bring some sandwiches.

What was your thinking behind making a pass at one of those big chairs when you came back from the toilet?

Ah well, after about five or six beers I started getting a bit randy. My eyesight isn’t too good anyway, but when I’ve been drinking it’s terrible. I was eyeing up what I thought was a stout package in the corner with funky green hair. Sometimes the chunkier woman can be great sport, but anyway, when I walked past I realised it was one of those cushioned chairs with a plant behind it, but I was game if it was so I tried my luck. I've got a rash now.

Once you were out you chose to play six card Omaha with two Welsh men you didn’t know, just exactly what the fuck did you think you were playing at?

Well, when you’ve made a pass at some furniture it’s anything goes. I was waiting for a seat in the Hold ‘em cash game and spotted two guys in the corner holding many many cards in their hands. This looks fun I said to myself so I sat down with Gareth and Gareth (probably) and they shared £100 of my money equally between them.

The year has only just begun and already you’ve shown new and interesting ways of losing from a promising position, can things get any worse?

Oh yes, the opportunities to lose are inexhaustible if you put your mind to it. Last Monday for example, I was playing Omaha and was chasing a flush; I put in a pot-sized raise as a semi-bluff but forgot that all five community cards were already dealt. I think if you’re capable of chasing a flush when there are no more cards to be dealt you can lose from even the most promising positions.

I think I’ll continue to drink heavily prior to and during the events because if I’m sober there’s an ok chance of my actually cashing and where’s the fun in that? Hopefully I’ll be able to make love to some furniture in Europe too this year and maybe Vegas in May.

I baptise thee fuck me Roger

1/10/2008 12:11:00 am / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (0)

I've been watching the live webcast for this EPT event for about an hour under the assumption the guy in seat one was called Christ. Ha, what a couple of c*nts for parents this dude has got I said to myself.

Who in their right mind would call their kid Christ? Isn't that blasphemy somehow anyway? And Christ Ian Harder, is something I once heard a woman inside a bush, shout to a guy who I assume was attempting to get inside her bush. It's a funny old world.

Eventually I realised his name was Christian Harder.

Who have you come as?

1/09/2008 11:06:00 pm / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (0)

It would appear that the EPT Bahamas event has a pretty informal dress code. I may have misheard but I think this dude's name is "Red." Ha ha, I've got £5 that says his brother is called Cooter and his sister is Daisy-Lou.

"I done see yo three hunner an' ah raise eight hunner mo"

As Tyne Goes By.

1/09/2008 07:25:00 pm / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (0)

Play it again Sam. Tee Hee.

Sam Allardyce, Newcastle manager 2007-2008

McCann movie speculation

1/09/2008 04:32:00 pm / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (0)

The parents of that missing girl are denying reports they want to make a movie about their ordeal. Glad to hear it. I wouldn't go and see it, would you? I'm still pissed off about the doll they brought out for Christmas. I bought it for a friends daughter, when she opened the box there was nothing in there.

Booooom boooooom!

Indian cricketer race row thingy

1/09/2008 09:28:00 am / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (1)

OK now then, there's a couple things I find bizarre about this whole episode. Let's discuss them shall we, then I must go to the barbers. For those of you not familiar with this story, Indian spin bowler Harbhajan Singh has been accused of hurling racist abuse at Andrew Symonds and banned for three matches.

It was alleged he had called the boy Symonds a monkey. India threatened to abandon the tour, complained about the umpires favouring the Australians and the Indian public back home have been burning effigies of both Umpires and Symonds and beating posters of them all with their shoes.

This is bizarre on many levels. My knowledge of Indian and Hindu culture is sparse, but I'm pretty sure monkeys are sacred animals in the Hindu religion. So, if Harbhajan Singh did indeed call Symonds a monkey how can that been considered racist abuse? It's the antithesis of abuse surely? It's like me trotting off to White Hart Lane and accusing Demitar Berbatov of being no better than Dennis Bergkamp.

Also, I know the Indians are passionate about their cricket, but this whole effigy burning and shoe beating is a bit much is it not? As I understand it exposing the sole of your shoes is incredibly insulting in Arabic and Asian countries and I think in Cornwall too, only with wellies. So really this sort of protest ought to be reserved for the trials and executions of tyrants and the evilest of politicians and assassinations of the Ghandi's and Bhutto's of the world.

The expressions of anger by the Indian cricket loving public are as frenzied as those in Pakistan by the supporters of Benazir Bhutto following her assassination. Te political and religious climate must be pretty tranquil in India at the moment if this has provoked such a disproportionate reaction from the public. What are they gonna do when something comes along that's really worth protesting over? Just use bigger shoes? A2 sized posters instead of A3? Come on now Indians relax, it's only cricket and you were going to lose anyway, that's what I always say.

I love it when a plan comes together

1/08/2008 03:07:00 am / The truth was spoken by Rich / comments (0)

I said no resolutions, but suddenly I've got more plans than Hannibal Smith. I've decided that I will learn how to play Omaha properly. I bought a book and everything. Yes I know, best laid plans and everything, but I feel I can apply myself here.

This evening I sat down at the cash table in my local card club and donked off £60 while I finished my tea. It was only 20 minutes; I think the lessons are gonna be expensive for this game. Note to self: only drink cold drinks, it's cheaper.

Sitting down at that table to learn the game is as much of an exercise in futility as learning the art of sensual love making while growing up in a Turkish brothel, so I might just sit and watch for the time being.

My handicap here is that my brain has a sort of one way system for processing information. It's worse than anything you'll see in Swindon.

Thus, it takes a long time for me to work things out. I also get a bit lost sometimes and I can miss vital pieces of information or forget things which can be costly.

It's bad enough playing Hold 'em, but with four hole cards I'm really struggling to make a decision before other people at the table start calling me a useless c*nt.

I will prevail though. I've given myself about a month to learn at which time I shall take myself off to play in the £250 Omaha freeze-out at Walsall, part of the GUKPT festival; should there be one. Elsewise I'll take myself off to a quiet corner of Dusk Till Dawn and have a bash at their Omaha cash tables.

I'm off to Cardiff this weekend incidentally for the APAT Welsh National, isn't it. If I happen to perform spectacularly there I may just whizz myself off to Slovenia again at the end of the month for the €700 freeze-out one or two of my chums have registered for.

In real terms, I'll stink the place up in Wales and spend the rest of the month in my pajamas eating sticks of pepperami and watching repeats of the Good Life. Felicity Kendall in wellies...grrrrrrrr.

Oh, finally, I've been cleared by my Docs to fly, so a trip to Vegas in May with the Mob is a distinct possibility. I've been promising myself I would go back to Vegas since I was 22 when I made the error of spending a weekend there with a crazy American-Eyetalian woman with a gambling addiction she conveniently forgot to inform me about.