Wednesday 17 August 2011

The most sexist place left in society is around a pool table.

Below are the beginnings of a post I wrote whilst slightly drunk in a hotel room a couple of weeks ago. I consider it an unfinished masterpiece and feel it is my duty to release it. If I die before it is completed - like Speilberg completed A.I for Kubrick - I elect George Orwell to complete this blog. That is assuming he doesn't die first. What?! He has?! How did I miss that? In that case I designate the responsibility of completing any unfinished works in the event of my death to Gaby Roslin....

I'm in the Holiday Inn Express Cardiff City Airport and my career has reached a nadir. I'm not sure I know exactly what nadir means but I'm prepared to say that I've reached it. Earlier on this evening I did a gig at the Barry Memorial Theatre and it was pleasant enough. As a young boy who was so desperate to perform that at the age of five I voluntarily did a talk in assembly about the pillars of Islam (true) I never dreamed that I'd get this far.

I'm starting to appear sarcastic aren't I? In this instance I'm not. I mean it's not a nadir (whatever that means) but it's been lovely. I'm on my own. When I arrived at the Holiday Inn Express I decided to have a drink in the bar downstairs. I usually do this when I'm away. Hotel rooms are essentially just fancy bedrooms and I don't really do anything in bedrooms except sleep and MAKE LOVE.

So there I was in the bar downstairs with a pint of Caffreys. Beside me I had a copy of Tina Fey's Bossypants (which is brilliant) but being a prick I was embarrassed about it because there were builders around. The builders were playing pool and I decided that I wanted a go. Guess what? I am fucking brilliant at pool. I mean really. To a builder I probably look like I'd rather stick a pool cue up my arse than pot a ball with it but I am honestly really good. I


And there I stopped. I remember that I was worried that, being drunk I might regret posting. I think it was alright. I wonder what I was about to say with that final 'I' that made me stop. Perhaps the 'real me' was coming out and I was about to unleash a tirade about immigrants. Anyway, I did beat the builders at pool because I am, indeed, brilliant at it. That wasn't just drunken bravado. It's a source of great pride for me that I am good at pool and I love surprising people with it. Lots of men seem astonished that someone with no muscles and the gait of a bi-curious teen can beat them. They forget that pool is a game of skill not braun.

The most sexist place left in society is around a pool table. My girlfriend is very good at pool (when she's not on the crack pipe) and the way men handle it is incredible. If she plays a male stranger they nearly always start by giving her advice. This is before she has even done anything. Then when she plays a couple of good shots they make a point of saying 'good shot' quite loudly but clearly believe in their heads that it was a fluke. Then when she eventually beats them they lay on the praise a little too thick as if she's just done the impossible. "Fifty years ago the world saw it's first talking woman but never did we think we'd see the day when someone with a vagina could create the necessary angle required to pot a ball".

Many women play into the sexist atmosphere around a pool table. Of course, plenty of them are shit at it but there is no need to act so helpless. There is something very 1950s about the way they giggle and defer to the be-testicled for advice. It's not that hard of a game. Just work it out for yourselves, ladies. And if you really can't do it then maybe I could give a private lesson some time. At my place. Nekid.

There a two things that strike me about this post. First, the story in the original one about me giving a talk about Islam is genuinely true. I will have to tell you about that sometime. The other is that although I flatter myself to say so I think my two favourite phrases in the history of this blog are included within this post. They are; 'the gait of a bi-curious teen' and 'be-testicled'.

Thank you for taking the time to read this.

Friday 12 August 2011

People are horrible.

Did anyone see those riots on the news? Nasty business. The overwhelming feeling I got from them was that people are horrible. First off, what the rioters themselves did was horrible. No, no, come on, it's about time someone said it. What those rioters did was not on. I'm not sure it's entirely a generational thing though. I can think of maybe 3 or 4 people that were in my year at school who were naughty enough to throw a brick through the window of a JD Sports and then torch the joint. Not that we had a JD Sports in Braintree. We had a Jenny's Burgers though. I reckon there were 30 or 40 other people at my school who were naughty enough to stand around and watch, then go inside and nick some of Jenny's Burgers. I fit into neither camp. There is a strong chance that I would have missed out thanks to the intensive rehearsal schedule of the school's production of Under Milk Wood. Oh, and thanks to not being invited to the looting for being a dweeb.

People have been awfully quick to find reasons for the riots. Some folk seemed to think the closing down of youth clubs was to blame. Table tennis is a great game but I'm not sure that it can prevent large scale country wide rioting. I'm being facetious. Not having much to do probably is one of the many and varied reasons why these bellends did this. It does not however change the fact that they are bellends. How they came to be bellends is another matter. Some people are born bellends though aren't they? If we can accept that a percentage of society is born gay can we not accept that a similar percentage are born bellend? If you don't believe me think of Paul Robinson. He had an excellent parent in Jim and has been given chance after chance but he consistently proves himself to be a bellend. That's genetics. Or simple archetypal soap script writing. One of the two.

Not all the bellends were rioting though. Some of them were in the EDL 'protecting' their neighbourhoods by chasing innocent black teenagers. Apparently a couple of weeks ago the EDL had a 'meeting' in a pub in Plymouth. They got pissed, wound each other up about 'bloody immigrants' and then smashed up a kebab shop. I like to think that the following night they got pissed, fancied some post-pub nosh and then realised they'd shot themselves in the foot.

Other non-rioting bellends include the people who are taking massive glee in calling for strict punishments. By all means punish the rioting bellends but the idea of taking away their council housing and benefits is a little silly, no? What happens if you take a group of people who are already prepared to riot and loot and then make them homeless and take away their income? If you think it's apply for a job at Halfords, I'm not so sure. And if it is apply for a job I sense the people calling for this aren't the same people who would give them one.

Thursday 4 August 2011

Adolescent political rambling I will no doubt be embarrassed by in two weeks time.

Good news guys! I've worked out the fundamental problem with free market capitalism and the reason why I will most likely never be able to afford a nice house in a nice area. For those of you who prefer my blog posts about poo and testicular examinations - stick with it - you might learn something.

In many ways I quite like the idea of capitalism. It strikes me that all the alternatives I've come across don't really work. When I was a kid we sent food parcels to my mum's relatives in Communist Poland so I had a very real sense that that little theory wasn't working out. The basic premise of the free market (I think) is that if you work hard and have good skills, ideas or a good product to offer you'll do quite well. There are of course lots of uncomfortable issues with that (what if you're thick, weak and chronically depressed?) but I at least get it. I reckon, in the States particularly that theory worked out quite well for a while.

But here's the problem. Get ready for my theory because it's going to blow your fucking mind. Some people are really really smart. Now it seems that there are a small but significant number of people with a 160 IQ who work 80 hour weeks and only care about money and Top Gear. Let's call these people 'Dicks'. These 'Dicks' now control the world by virtue of having all the money and capital and they are too smart and 'Dickish' to ever let it go. These 'Dicks' have been buying up all the houses in London for years, thereby pushing up the prices and leaving me the holder of a mere 7 GCSEs, a meaningless degree and a casual disregard for money unable to buy one.

Some of you may well be thinking that if they were so smart they wouldn't have let the economy crash like it has. The 'Dicks' didn't really lose out though did they? They all walked off with shitloads of money. The people who are supposed to keep the 'Dicks' in line are the politicians and the regulators but they are nowhere near as clever as the 'Dicks'. If they were then they'd be 'Dicks' themselves and earn a lot more money than they do. Of course some of the politicians are 'Dicks'. But as we all know 'Dicks' look after 'Dicks'. That's just basic biology.

So there we are. My argument is impenetrable. I've worked out exactly what's wrong with the world and at the same time, through my shambling prose proven why I don't have the IQ to ever be a 'Dick'.