I´m used to Latin culture and have spent half my life in South America but eating times in Spain – where I am just now – are a mystery to me.

Breakfast starts about 9 (and that´s early), lunch any time between 2 and 5 o´clock and dinner from nine to midnight.

The service is equally eccentric in terms of time. Sit down, wait half an hour for the waiter to see you (if you´re lucky), take an hour to bring the menu then return an hour later for your order then bring the first course an hour later.

Time has a different dimension here. Was Einstein a Spaniard and is relativity a Spanish concept?

Yet it´s not like this in Argentina, Mexico, Chile or Brazil, which I know best.
The shops and banks are the same and seem to be closed more often than they are open. I thought all this had changed when Spain joined the European Union and had become modern.

I know that as a visitor you have go with the flow but for fuck´s sake get a move on Manuel. Rapido!

Nominated by: Mr Polly

Looking back, I realise that I’ve cunted songs and performers in various guises; done-to-death songs, boring songs, nauseating songs… I trust that another pop will not go amiss, this time aimed specifically at rubbish lyrics, by which I mean the self-indulgent, pompous, vacuous, or just plain cringeworthy.

This was kicked off yesterday when the wife put on Dylan’s ‘Bringing It All Back Home’. I was able to tolerate his nasal whine for so long, but then came ‘of war and peace the truth just twists, its curfew gull it glides, upon four-legged forest clouds, the cowboy angel rides’.

Now I’m sure that arty-farty types have droned on about the ironic imagery and visionary poetic lyricism of the words (or something), but honestly, I reckon that this song’s lyrics are a pile of pretentious wank.

Not for the first time, this took the missus and I on a trip to pick some of our favourite ludicrous lyrics. She chimed in inevitably with ‘no 9, no 9, no 9…’, and then picked Lennon’s ‘imagine no possessions, I wonder if you can’, from the Rolls Royce radical himself.

Okay dear. I’ll see you and raise you a ‘you consider me the young apprentice, caught between the Scylla and Caribdes’. A perfect couple of lines from that poseur Sting, to which I added a bit of twat cod-philosophy from Neil Diamond, to wit; ‘I am I said, to no one there, and no one heard at all, not even the chair’. Deep stuff, I’m sure you’ll agree.

How about ‘we are stardust, we are golden, and we’ve got to get ourselves back to the garden’, said the missus. Mmm, the ‘Woodstock’ generation of Mitchell and CSNY types could take itself a bit seriously at times. I’d include Paul Simon here, for the likes of ‘I have my books and my poetry to protect me’, not to mention ‘what a dream I had, pressed in organdy, clothed in crinoline of smoky burgundy’. Struth.

Then there are those words which initially sound very meaningful, but become less so the more you listen to them. Like ‘Mars ain’t the kind of place to raise your kids, in fact it’s cold as hell, and there’s no one there to raise them if you did…’. Taupin torpor at its best.

Of course I could go on and on, I’ve got a million of ’em. Don’t get me started on the likes of Muse and Lady Gaga, or that infuriating little twit Katy Perry (‘I wanna see your peacock-cock-cock…are you brave enough to let me see your peacock?’).

But I’m limited for space, so I’ll close on the cringeworthy. What could be worse than ‘one day when I was not at home and she was left there all alone, the angels came… and Honey I miss you, and I’m being good’?

Christ on a bike. What a load of old pony.

Nominated by: Ron Knee

And on the subject of shit lyrics, try some Rap, from Miles Plastic

Rap

Well I’ve been ‘down with the kids’ recently. Too long to explain. But all about Rap and a very long video of Ed Sheeran and Stormzy performing together. Fuck know what it was called but how very long it was. And it was on a loop. Exorbitant is the word.

I suppose these two are leaders of their generation musically speaking. The actual sound is a feel good ambient sound which doesn’t vary. And the repetitive beat ad nauseam.

You can actually record your own Rap on your phone. A rap app I suppose you’d call it. So the task was to make your own rap recording. I was struck how seriously the ‘the kids’ took it. (More 18 to 20 year olds).

It was very comical. ‘Shhh… I’m recording….’. One fella– ‘Sheff town Sheff town I’ve been down’. He must have been to Sheffield recently. But that as well-they all did it with a black accent. They were all white.

‘I have my destiny in my pocket’ wasn’t a bad line I thought. Intense confessional stuff about ‘ma girlfriend’. But the beat just the same. No variation.

I thought when I was their age I was into Yes. I know pretentious and overlong but certainly it was all about creativity. And it was all about variation and true experimentation.

Came back home and decided to indulge myself in Yes. The first two videos of like vloggers appreciating them. I listened to ‘Awaken’ and ‘The Gates of Delerium’. The hosts of both vlogs two black dudes with dark glasses.

Street Preachers are cunts, aren’t they.

It’s bad enough that deodorant-dodging buskers and tax-dodging Romanians flogging the Big Issue clog the High Street pavements. Now we’ve got these loonies.

There they stand, blasting your ears telling us that some god “loves you”, somebody “died for your sins” the only way is their “god”, and spewing all this diarrhoea through a megaphone.

It’s not just the rug-riders outside Brixton Tube station wearing dresses and spitting venom, there was a swivel-eyed Satan-server in my town today, all fire and brimstone, huffing and puffing about his particular magic sky goblin. Get out the way, St.Fuckwit, I’m trying to buy a burrito.

Aren’t these wild-eyed, wacky wingnuts violating the Public Order Act, which bans people from causing “intentional harassment, alarm, or distress.” It sounds like these unhinged cunts are going to go postal any minute.

I like burritos. I like burritos more than god. Burritos are delicious.
Also, burritos are real.

Nominated by: Captain Magnanimous

Oh for fuck sake!!

It’s never ending, just watched look north from Leeds, yet another load of shite on the diversity bandwagon.

This time it’s the Blue Plaque Scheme, commemorative blue plaques for deserving people, so what is the issue.

In Leeds there are 181 blue plaques but only two are from the BAMES, the first black head teacher and Albert Johannesen, Leeds footballer.

Now the woke will be running around Chapeltown trying find some dark type who hasn’t been selling drugs or stabbing his bro in the wrong postcode.

What a load of piss boiling crap!

News Link

Nominated by: Sick of it

‘We’re a’ doomed, doomed a tell ye’. Sounds about right, at least according to our alarmist newspapers.

They’ve had a good run over the past few months, battering us relentlessly around the head with relentless doom and gloom about Covid. Still it goes on. ‘Plan for the worst’, wails The Mirror. ‘It’s back to panic stations!’ screeches The Mail.

They’ve positively relished it, but Covid’s become a bit of a broken record now as far as working up a sense of alarm is concerned. Our senses have become dulled, so now they’ve got to find other things in their attempts to scare us shitless. Let’s have a little look;

* ‘Prepare for winter of discontent’; The Gloomiad
* ‘UK energy crisis to drive up cost of living’; The i
* ‘We’ll meat again: we’re set to run out of pork, lamb, chicken and turkey in just
days’; The Daily Star
* ‘Energy firms will be left to collapse’; The Times
* ‘Asteroid extinction event next month: Adonis blames Brexit’; The Daily Yell

Okay, you’ve got me; I made the last one up. But you get the drift. It’s eco-crisis, it’s housing crisis, it’s transport crisis, it’s NHS crisis. Now it’s shortage of this looms, shortage of that likely. It’s starting to sound like during the war. Couldn’t get this, couldn’t get that, had to make do with the other…

Well talking of the war, we could do with a bit of the old Dunkirk spirit from the papers now if you ask me. Where’s good old Winnie and Dame Vera when you need them? They wouldn’t have stood for this grinding pessimism from the papers then, and they wouldn’t now.

Well fuck the despondent miserabilist cunts and all who sail in them:The sun’s out (It’s gonna rain! – DA), the family’s well (They’re aliens from planet Zog – DA), Villa won 3-0 on Saturday (will get relegated and go bankrupt – DA), and I’m off for a pint (Pub has closed and turned into flats – DA)

Nominated by: Ron Knee

And on the subject of End of the World hype, here’s this from Sick of it

A cunting for the never ending CRISIS.

Turn on the news and you can be sure one word will be thrown out and that is Crisis. What is with our media, we are constantly in crisis.

The Covid crisis had many sub crisis events, lack of PPE, shortage of beds, shortage of ventilators, Care Homes and so on.

Buried beneath this has been the climate crisis, it seems that doomsday gets closer everyday, 2050, 2040, 2030, next week the end of the world will be Christmas Day 2021. The brings us onto the next crisis, No Fucking Turkey, oh no maybe try a different Christmas Day meal.

Crisis of shortage of lorry drivers, ffs, as long as essentials keep getting through it’s not a crisis, but wait the Crisis of escalating gas prices has produced a crisis of not enough CO2 which gives a crisis of shortages of food.

And let’s not forget the Afghan crisis and the Channel crisis, it’s no wonder so many people have mental health issues, which itself is a crisis because of crisis of the NHS backlog caused by Covid crisis

We are truly fucked, the never ending Crisis is indeed a CUNT.

I am going for lie down.

And a word on panic buying cunts, from Gutstick Japseye

Emergency cunting for the stupid cunts who are at it again, this time it’s petrol.
Thanks to the crescendo of media sensationalist reporting of shortages, the fucking mouth breathers have rushed out and have begun to empty every petrol station in Britain.

Although there are genuine problems, there is definitely a degree of political skulduggery, as it is easy to paint these issues as Brexit related, and the incompetence of the Tory government.

Yes, there are elements of truth on both accounts, but there are wider factors at play. There are nearly a million jobs available, all of various disciplines and abilities, that need filling and what do the liberal left want? Foreign workers, who are now excluded from the equation because of Brexit. What about the millions of unemployed Britons?

Surely they should be first in line for work, but they seem happy to be at home on benefits, and the left are happy to keep them there.

Winter of discontent? We’ve had a few years already, and worse it’s going to get.

News Link

Classic example of fearmongering.

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and this from Jeezum Priest

So, after seeing the news last night about fuel shortages, I popped in to Tesco at 0530 when I should have been sleeping!

I spoke to a very nice tanker driver who was rather informative and told me that the boats carrying fuel are arriving daily at Plymouth, the two depots in Plymouth are extremely well stocked and there is no shortage of drivers.

His only concern was news articles misleading the public. He finished by explaining that it is only BP who have issues. Back to bed….

Just thought you would like this FB post.

And yet more panic buying hysteria, this time from DCI Gene Cunt 

Fuel Panic Buyers.

A “Me first, then me and I’ll have what’s left” cunting for this bunch of selfish spunk-stains.

You fucking myopic, odious cunts. And the one’s that gave us dirty looks and muttering as we ‘jumped’ the queue to fill the ambulance up?

I hope you have a MI and the truck coming to you runs out of diesel. But dreams never come true.

Thank fuck this generation wasn’t around in 19fucking40.