Skip to main content

Vent, vent, vent

As some of you may be aware I spend my days holed up in a kitchen with only a radio for company. As a result I listen to a lot of it. I'd love to listen to radios 4 and 3 but find that I tend to start concentrating on them and not getting any work done. I'd listen to 6 but I can't get it together to go and buy a digital radio, and as any fule kno commercial radio is entirely, entirely beyond the pale. So radio 1 it is. It's generally inoffensive enough, particularly now they've got shot of Jo "That's amazing" Whiley, though the replacement Fearne Cotton is shaping up to be just as aggravating (though occasionally appealingly snarky about records she clearly doesn't like, a trait which is only to be encouraged but which will, I fear, be stamped down upon sharpish). Okay, they have a tendency to bang on about any old mediocrity (hello The Killers/ Kings of Leon but on the other hand there're generally a couple of good records per hour or so.

Two though, which stink of piss and which, having heard more times than I care to recall I need to slag off before my head explodes.

Taio Cruz - Break your heart. Mystifyingly number one for a couple of weeks now, it's not so much the music i object to, that needlessly dramatic electro-ish pop guff of which there's a bewilderingly large amount about at the moment, but the sentiment. Young Taio bangs on and on about how he's going to break this girl's heart and generally treat her like crap, about how he's "not easy to please" as thugh labouring under the misapprehension that fronting up about this early doors is in some way noble behaviour. Take note please, Mr Cruz and all other egregious faux honesty merchants. Saying that you're going to behave like a total prick in no way justifies behaving like a total prick. Perhaps try not behaving like a total prick? Just a thought.

Secondly that one where the Sugababes B-team witter on at tedious length about how sexy they are, as if sexiness in itself is in any way a justification of their wilful misappropriation of other wise blameless, potentially useful atoms. The hilarious right said fred chorus about being "too sexy in this club/ so sexy it hurts" the lyrics with one eye on the american market (if you had a dime, young lady, you'd have to go to a bureau de change, this is blighty, and the word is "their" not "they", they put you on THEIR arm, who taught you english?) and the generally slappable vacuity of the whole sorry farrago are crying out for a counter single entitled "I hate to break it to you love but you're not all that".

Ah, better.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Creepy old men

I note, somewhat wearily, that creepy old men are back in the news, being creepy. Creepy old men, and their apologists and enablers, who argue that their creepiness is somehow the natural order of things. Old men would have you believe that it is difficult to not be a creepy old man. That it is a task of epic proportions. It is not that difficult. It is a matter of intention. As yet more of the grimness of Epstein unfolds, creepy old men are, sadly, a flaccid topic once again. Whether it be pursuing students thirty years their junior, or simply not asking too many questions about the background of the probably legal young woman who you've just been introduced to by your good pal Jeff. To be clear, I am not referring to criminal creepy old men, the ones who actually committed statutory rape, the ones who fucked trafficked hirls. That is not something which is allowed to get away merely with the contempt of the observer.  That deserves prison.  No , I'm referring to the hinterla...

Inedible

"He says it's inedible" said my front of house manager, as she laid the half-eaten fish and chips in front of me, and instantly I relaxed.  Clearly, I observed, it was edible to some degree. I comped it, because I can't be arsed arguing the toss, and I want to make my front of house's lives as simple as possible. The haddock had been delivered that morning. The fryers had been cleaned that morning. The batter had been made that morning (and it's very good batter, ask me nicely and I'll give you the recipe some time). The fish and chips was identical to the other 27 portions I'd sent out on that lunch service, all of which had come back more or less hoovered up, we have have a (justified, if I do say so myself) very good reputation for our chips. But it was, apparently, "inedible". When it comes to complaints, less is more. If you use a hyperbolic word like that, I'll switch off, you've marked yourself as a rube, a chump, I'm not g...

The daftest complaint I ever had

I have written here several times down the years about customer complaints, both justified and idiotic. Working in hospitality they are an ineivitability. No matter how good you are, how consistent, you will get complaints. Very few of them stick in the memory, but some, by virtue of their extreme idiocy, do. And one popped into my mind as I was plating up a dish this lunchtime, and I thought, why not, it's as good a thing to write a blog about as any. It's also an entertaining example of how events can play out in ways you may not expect at the time. It sticks in the mind as it combined stupidity with a petty malice and venality which leaves me with no qualms about taking the piss out of it publicly. I rarely let bad reviews lie, if I feel they're unfair I might demur, if I feel they're reasonable I'll make a point of apologising. If they're stupid I'll take pleasure in replying very politely. This one got ignored. It happened on a Sunday, which is another ...