Barry's Beef

The passing of Mike Reid and Shambo serve as the last straws, I'll leave you with my favourite two posts:

The Bobby George Interview

and the Lieutenant Gruber Interview that took the world by storm

It's been fun, but I'm now off to become a teacher. See you.

You can't play Brazilians, Swiss or Italians in your national team.

It's a fucking escalator. Just get it working. How much money has been splaffed up the wall in the making and maintenance of Portcullis House? I mean how many times does one or tother of the kitchen's functions break down? I did like the recent return to paper plates. What with the furore of Lords getting passes for lobbyists and the massive impression this can make on clients, perhaps the national media should shift her attention to where the poor sup could actually go.
There are the non-functioning toilets, the escalator that doesn't escalator (not forgetting the lifts that do not lift) or my personal favourite the trays in the Debate that are practically welded together.

Suffice to say the lack of blogging here recently has, in part, been due to the Labour Party deciding to become a National Government. Some have rejoiced (no, really) about Quentin Davies defecting, like it's anything for Labour to be proud of. I mean he's not Labour. And Digby Jones?
I'd say I was surprised, but I am yet to get over my disgust.

Here's wishing John Bardon, aka Eastenders' Jim Branning a swift recovery after suffering a stroke.

Always brave and ready for change, I got this new Lynx deoderant. Turns nice girls naughty? Wowsers! I'll admit that it wasn't having the desired effect. I walked around much the same as ever without women throwing themselves at me and proclaiming their unbounding lust. The mechanism on this deoderant is annoying, in fact the constant evolution of the spray mechanism on deoderant cans is a bugbear to me. What is wrong with simply pressing down I ask you? Alas, the gods of marketing think otherwise. Anyway, this one is a screw to the right and then press down jobby. After a few goes the can got fucked, in that half the deoderant came out as normal and half kind of trickled down my hand. So I took the lid off it and saw that if I manually put on the plastic...thingy and pressed it'd all be fine. Yet, one morning I managed to put the plastic...thingy on and press at the same time thereby deoderising my eyes. Note to readers: don't ever do this, it stings like fuck.

Labels: lynx

Today's the day when the Piggys come to Parliament. As you can see from this photograph, they've really turned out in force. That must be about 50, which makes it one of their bigest crowds this season. Please also note the dust-cart driving right past them, how very prophetic. Bunch of twats, fuck off back up the M1 and stop crying like whiny little bitches. Your team was rubbish and that's why you went down. And where are the other supporters? Where's Fulham? Middlesbrough? And Mr Fucking Big Gob himself: Dave Whelan? Is this was British democracy has been reduced to? Makes me sick.

Labels: Pigs

The very definition of modern, televisual irony must be Amanda Holden and Piers Morgan on the show Britain's Got Talent, unless talent involves banging Bob the Builder or publishing wholly inaccurate pictures in a 'leading' UK tabloid.
Channel 4, above such frippery, offers us Big Brother with about a dozen Vicki Pollards yeh but no but yeh but no but yehing until the start crying. Channel 4 has two feasible choices:

1) Fake the death of one of the twins without telling anyone apart from the 'dead' twin. Remember: death equals ratings.

2) Cancel Big Brother, evict every last deviant and twat and buy back the rights to the cricket.

And then there was Derren Brown who, let's face it, is the man. The highlight was when he was describing this dude's dream and had predicted an old woman would figure. The guy said an old friend of the family, who had recently shuffled off this mortal coil, was present. He said her name was Mrs *bleep*. Now this confused me somewhat? Was it to protect her privacy in death, or was it that her surname was actually something rude like Cunt for instance. "Darling, old Mrs Cunt is coming round for dinner tonight"

Labels: amanda holden, Big Brother, Britain's Got Talent, derren brown, piers morgan

With Tony Blair, our soon to be departed Prime minister, rumoured to be entering the Catholic church, it could well serve a purpose if the Labout Party adopted a bit of papal protocol. No, I don't mean tacitly approving of the Holocaust, but rather the billowing of smoke that signals that the conclave has decided on who the new Pope will be.
People will have noticed that the colour of this whole Leadership thingy has been purple. So if only the Labour Party could figure a way emitting purple smoke from 10 Downing Street? Well you could always feed the outgoing DPM some baked beans and then cast him outside, I supppose?

Labels: Deputy Leadership

There really has been a load of old toss sprouted about the Olympics. I blogged on it a bit ago and still feel the same. Today, however, it comes to light that whatever faults the London 2012 organisational committee have, they're not resorting to underhand tactics like our Chinese Comrades.

I can see the slogan now:

London 2012
Beijing 20 08 year olds working 20 hour shifts making all the merchandise

I should work in marketing

Labels: Beijing 2008, London 2012, Olympics

Labels: 2012, Cllr Cross, logo, London Olympics

As some of you may know, I will be leaving Parliament at some point soon and embarking on a new career in the teaching profession. Yes, it'll be Sir Barry to you. I hope to teach history and like to think that I already have a working knowledge of British History, for instance I know that Queen Victoria was named after a pub in the East End of London. What I didn't know, however, is that Queen Victoria was black. What you didn't either? Well, I saw this and asked the Count to take a snap-shot...AS PROOF. Well, it's a lesson I'll be sure to teach those kids: you live and you learn.

Labels: black, Queen Victoria

Before the season started I somewhat stupidly predicted who I thought would go up and go down. The result below demonstrate why I am not a betting bovine, aside from the odd game of poker.

Barry blogged:

Premiership:

Chelsea (champions)
Man Utd
Arsenal
Liverpool

Wigan (relegated)
Watford (relegated)
Sheffield United (relegated)

Ok, so not so bad here. The top 4 unsurprisingly was right, just in the wrong order. I think acceptable. As for relegation, well Watford went down quicker than Divine Brown whereas the Pigs gloriously went down on the last day of the season. Wigan survived by the skin of their teeth. I'll predict now: Wigan going down next year.

Barry blogged:

Championship:

West Brom (champions)
Birmingham
Southampton

QPR (relegated)
Colchester United (relegated)
Barnsley (relegated)

No accounting for the Baggies choking so bad. Birmingham did finish second and Southampton made the play-offs. I wrote this pre-Keane so don't feel bad about missing out Sunderland.
Colchester were the biggest surprise in English league football last season and having watched them trounce Wednesday 4-0 on a shitty Wednesday evening, I can testify that they're pretty good. QPR were rubbish and in John Gregory they have a hopeless manager. The highlight to their season was a mass brawl between their reserves and a load of Chinese players. They're just a small team in Fulham. Barnsley just about survived, although a last day 7-0 caning by West Brom bodes perfectly for next season.

Barry blogged:



League 1

Nottingham Forest (champions)
Swansea
Bradford

Millwall (relegated)
Cheltenham (relegated)
Rotherham (relegated)
Orient (relegated)

Forest chucked it away. They should have gone up automatically and then should have gone up through, or at the very least made the Final of, the Play Offs. Frankly, they should be ashamed. Swansea finished one spot out of the play-offs, but Bradford let me down big time. Crap for the whole season they went down comfortably.
Millwall's season picked up and they finished an encouraging 10th under the stewardship of ex-Wednesday #2, Willie Donachie. Cheltenham are useless and I'm surprised they survived but with Kayode Odejayi signing for Barnsley today, they'll be there or thereabouts at the bottom come next season. Orient were lucky to have 4 worse teams in the league. They finished 5th bottom. Poor Rotherham. The Dingles tried valiantly, got safe, got very safe and then lost and lost and lost and capitulated: a team in very real danger.

Barry blogged:

Swindon Town (champions)
MK Dons
Accrington Stanley
Darlington

Macclesfield (relegated)
Stockport (relegated)

Swindon went up thanks to ex-Owls supremo Paul Sturrock. A great man. MK Dons lost in the Play-Offs. Accrington were sadly dire and Darlington never got it going.
Macclesfield looked dead and buried, but Paul Ince lived up to his 'Guvnor' moniker and worked his magic. Stockport, perenially crap, flirted outrageously with the play-offs and Jim Gannon's team were unlucky in the end.

We all remember Eric Cantona doing a flying kick into the Palace end, but this one has a certain I don't know what that makes it incredibly immense. The closest thing to this I have ever seen on a football pitch would be when Toni Schumacher absolutely mangled that French substitute in the '82 World Cup. Anyway, enjoy.

Labels: assault, Hapoel, Maccabi