Hang Me Out To Dry *

A new year video for you all (all two of you, that is) from one of my fave bands of the past 12 monts. Their debut album, Robbers and Cowards, really was fucking brilliant!

*Cold War Kids

Let's Go Out Tonight*

Of all the things to cheer you up ....

I've been feeling a bit down in the dumps over the last 24 hours or so. Have had man-flu and can't stop coughing and spluttering and sneezing. Not spoken to anyone over the weekend but the bloke down the pub yesterday at lunchtime when watching Hibs play the huns. Saw and heard the news about former Celt Phil O'Donnell collapsing and dying at the end of the Motherwell-Dundee Utd game yesterday. Believe it or not, I was also a bit down when both Raymond Van Barjneveld and Phil Taylor got beaten in the darts World Championship. And, of course, JJ has left the country for a few days.

I was feeling that sorry for myself that I had considered not replying to - never mind turning down - and invite from the boy's mum asking if I had wanted to go round for usual Sunday dinner tonight.

But ... listening to Unknown Pleasures by Joy Division does you the world of good. So, bottle of wine goes in bag and off I go for roast chicken, spuds, veg and lots of glasses of the white graped drink! Just hope she doesn't mind me watching the semi-finals from Alexandra Palace!!

* The Blue Nile

Suck *

Sad news indeed about Phil O'Donnell. This quote probably sums the player up:

"You couldn't find a bad thing to say about him.
"There weren't any off the pitch incidents - nothing. He was just a great, great footballer and a great leader."

*The Wedding Present

The Message *

One of those meme things is doing the rounds. This one involves composing a letter from the person you are now to your 13-year-old self. Here’s mine:

Dear Teenage Reidski

What a horrible little cunt you are. And what a bunch of horrible little cunts your fellow school pupils are. But, we can’t change history, so you’ll just have to put up with it and society will just have to put up with you. Life will improve in later years, I promise.

Yours sincerely
The More Mature Reidski

*Grandmaster Flash

Praying Hands *

Please, please, please ... the people who committed this crime, please make your way to SE14 immediately please. Note to self: get down to the local boozer this weekend and await some amazing offers!

*Devo

Changeling *

Some people may have noticed that shops and bars are closing at London Bridge Station. It's all in preparation for building beginning on this. Looks rather exciting to me!

*Simple Minds

Can't Shape Up*

This was the start of a series of unfortunate events for JJ and I over recent days. The night following our Amersham visit, we met up in the Euston area, so decided to have dinner in Drummond Street in one of the very many superb Indian restaurants there. Only trouble being that the one we plumped for was far from being superb. Rude and unwelcome staff who never cracked a smile throughout our stay. Bland food. Small portions. Bottle of water cost £4. If only we had read about the place here first. We shall not be returning.

A few days later we find ourselves with a day off work and so go up to the West End for window shopping. We wander around and make our way through the streets of Mayfair and decide to have a drink. As you do in such places, we head for the bar to order. We are told by friendly bloke to take a seat and someone would be over to take our order. We wait. We wait a bit longer. And we wait even longer without being asked what we would like to drink. We wonder what is going on as there are plenty of staff around and not very many customers. The staff are busy though. One is filling the ketchup bottles with ketchup. Another member of staff is filling up mayonnaise bottles with mayonnaise. Another is talking to the one filling up the mayonnaise bottles with mayonnaise. Another member of staff is talking to the one filling up the ketchup bottles with ketchup. Another member of staff is cleaning tables which have neither people nor empty drinks on them. The latter is eventually asked to go and take orders. She tells her colleague that she is busy. She is then told to go and take orders. She makes her way over to our table and asks me what I would like. I tell her. She turns and walks away. I tell her to return and take JJ's order. She takes completed order (only after saying that she doesn't understand what a slimline tonic is) and then goes to the bar. She then walks from one till to another about five or six times. She then seems about to talk to the mayonnaise bloke but holds back. She then seems about to talk to the ketchup bloke but holds back. She then stands in between them both and looks decidedly indecisive. JJ and I are laughing. But, after over five minutes of this, we decide to leave. What a bizarre place!

We then take a walk through the back streets and try to find our way back to Oxford Street. A few turns and we are unsure where we are but think we're going in the right direction. Just to make sure, we decide to ask a traffic warden the way to Oxford Street. We ask, but we don't get an answer as said traffic warden refuses to acknowledge our existence. He mumbles something as we walk away, but we decide to take a chance on our own directions rather than wait for the rude cunt to finally give us an answer.

With all this stuff, we could have been forgiven for getting a bit narked, but we weren't. Laughed it all off and had wonderful time together.

*The Wonderstuff

Rubbish *

Wheelie bins. France. Fuck-ups.

There, the person who looks at this site every morning at around 9am after doing a Google search on "reidski" will no doubt be happy now, I suppose. Whoever you are, can you either comment or fuck off?

Anyway, back to the issue at hand. Aren't there some weird, wonderful and very sad stories about wheelie bins around? Try this one and the bizarre and rather scary thought that we are all being spied upon. Of course, that stupid Tory cunt Andrew Pelling gets rather confused about the issue and brings the Soviet Union into the argument for some strange reason, but we'll ignore him and concentrate on the rest of it.

And there is also a far from funny one about a wheelie bin fire here, a tragic story indeed. Poor wee lad.

And we find an example from this wheelie bin story about the dangers faced by Britain's firefighters, not from fires but by young neds. Must be tempting to give lads like this a right kicking.

And has anyone came across a more peculiar habit than sniffing wheelie bins? Read about it here - obviously very strange people up in Teesside!

*Carter The Unstoppable Sex Machine