For months and months I have been paying for hosting this and email services, while being totally fucking lazy when it comes to making any sort of contribution to my blog. Apparently if I am going to get anyone to read this I have to make regular posts so that people get to read them. This is often particularly difficult when nothing really of consequence happens in your day and the most exciting thing was that you had managed to fill your Cafe Nero loyalty card and got a free cappuccino .

I have in fact been up to something really rather jolly exciting and that’s that I did my first stand-up comedy spot. This was all thanks to an old friend of mine making me do it and the X-Foundation who gave me the opportunity, all the name of charity I hasten to add. Although this was a side issue as the point of this was totally self-serving and I was completely out for myself.

After several weeks of tutoring by Chris Head, myself and nine others were ready, willing and armed mostly with wank gags. We did not learn of the line up until an hour before the show and true to my prediction I was up first. Just as well cos it meant that I could spend the rest of the evening tucking into the rider and getting shitfaced. Unbelievably, it went better than expected. They laughed in all the right places, a couple of lines got applause (I have given knob-cheese a brand name) and I even got some ad libs in.

This all left me with rather an odd feeling. Apparently this is called pride. Ms Rant introduced me to it, as she is one those mouthy Australian people they are apparently quite used to it. All that is required now is to prove myself to a room of complete strangers who are pissed up and ready to shout at me for no apparent reason. Provisionally that’s February 11, 2010 at the King’s Head, Crouch End. Let’s hope they are smegma friendly.

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Today I heard the most wonderful news, my prayers had been answered and I though that rest of my day would feel like I was sitting in chair made of clouds that was surrounded by kittens to nibble at my feet. That’s right, that Zelda from Terrahawks faced, sycophantic silly bitch that has tortured my weekday mornings, Jo Whiley has been removed from her morning slot on Radio 1. No longer will I have to listen to her get so far up some band’s arse she needs a snorkel, go on and on about how amazing some new tune is and then slag them all off when it’s no longer cool. That’s right fuck off grandma; let someone actually new, exciting and funny be on the BBC’s groovy and happening radio station that the kids all like.

So Auntie who’s the replacement? Some one that represents Britain’s young in the modern digital age? Someone that is down with it, but also eloquent and witty? No. It’s Fearne fucking Cotton. I hate to use this phrase, but talk about from frying pan into the fire. I had the misfortune to have to listen to her all the way home in the car while travelling home from North of England on Sunday. During this journey I was very seriously contemplated asking Miss Rant to rip my ears off and stuff them up my arse so that I would no longer have to her inane drivel. I know that you might suggest that I changed the channel, but that would have meant local radio, and there’s only so many times you can hear someone bleat on about the wheelie bin problem.

Anyhoo, in mild celebration of the Whiley’s demise, here is Lily Allen giving Jo what for in the only way she knows how. I liked Lily before I saw this, and now I love her so much I would happily crawl through a barrel full broken glass just pick the peanuts out of her shit.

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Yes it does, doesn’t it, but do I have chickpeas, cucumber, chili and pine nuts to make it? Do I fuck. No, all those ingredients are back at the supermarket where I could have bought them not half an hour ago. I have lost count the number of times I have walked into Waitrose of an evening not knowing what I wanted for dinner, but knowing that I wanted to cook something. Surely if you had these serving suggestions on the outside of meat packaging I would be urged to spend more money on expensive and high margin ingredients that you want to shift and I want to eat. See, everyone’s a winner with that strategy, so why don’t you fucking implement it? This post has been sent to Waitrose customer services. I will keep you posted on their response.

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Some people should not, under any circumstances, be allowed anywhere near the internet. I yet to come up with the definitive list of who these people are, but those of us that have been working the interweb for a period of time remember the days of trying to watch the Phantom Menace trailer on dial-up, the frustration of the time it took to look at pictures of er, specialist websites, and remember the emails that we first got touting urban myths or scams that we had been hearing round the playground/workplace/pub for years. But this was in nineteen-fucking-ninety-eight! And now the blessed internet has also managed to largely debunk such bollocks and those of us living in the 21st Century commonly know most of them to be bullshit.

Unfortunately there is still the uninitiated out there for people wishing separate people from their cash and their common sense. Do people seriously still believe it happens that people wake up in a bath of ice and your kidneys have been removed, that some bloke from Nigeria has got billions of dollars that he wishes to rest in your account, or that you have won a lottery that you never entered? Well obviously they do and can you please stop sending emails to my Mum, or I will be forced to ask Yahoo to disable her account. Ta.

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I know, it’s been a long time since I have posted, this is due to a lifestyle change for My1MinuteRant, and so I have been of a sunnier disposition lately. But thanks to my father and his lack of anger management, I am back with his rant about people telemarketing him offering free training. It is in some way Government funded, which gets him all Daily Mail (his mother will be proud) about wasting money trying to get people back to work. I have to say that it really doesn’t make much sense, Pops you could really do with a script next time you do one of these. You know, with a beginning, middle and end type thing. Also, what the fuck is a ‘piss sip’, I’ll ask and get back to you. Lastly the irony of the man asking who if there is anyone under 50 who doesn’t know how to use a PC, then walks off with the camera still running. He is 61 I’ll grant you, but he does have previous form of him undoing his rant by conveniently missing out a detail that negates his point.

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I just needed to get that out, you know, like when you’re really desperate for  a wee. All the way home on the bus, I was thinking you self-righteous cow. I wouldn’t mind if I was a repeat offender, but this was the first (and now only) time that I forgotten to give that shitty token in. Bring back the card operated lockers  we used to have, the ones we liked remember, and none of this would have happened. Anyway I have one of those little pound replacement tokens that you use in supermarket trolleys now. That’ll show her.

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For a man short in stature and even shorter on temper it, always concerned me whether it was a good idea for his health to enter the service industry. My point is vindicated by this rant and his lack of patience with less the observant customers.  If you wish to witness him lose his rag first hand, get yourself along to the Town Mill Bakery. Then all you have to do is ask for marmalade with your toast  (expect some sort of grumbling response about there being no orange groves in Dorset) or the music to be turned down.  Ooh, a personal favourite of mine, ask for ketchup with anything. That really pisses him off.

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Do you know how long I spent down the pub talking bollocks before coming up with this website? Well it was at least twenty minutes and most of that was thanks to a Stella and After Shock chaser (just wait until my online detective show ‘Sausage and Chips’ hits the web). Then after much hard graft getting the donkey work done and spending my meagre wages getting stuff set up, these fuckers come along and start following me on Twitter with their flash site. Now I’m not totally clear about who came first, them, or me, but I do know that it all looks suspiciously similar. All, apart from their smiley demeanour. Come on guys, get angry; that’s what ranting is about. How on earth are you going to get someone to change things for your benefit with that wholesome grin? You need to get in peoples faces and f*ck up their shit!

So, faced with some healthy competition, and they say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, I’m off to find someone angry, even if does end up being some tramp that I’ve been flicking with a wet tea towel. In the mean time if Project: Rant and I ever go mano a mano, then this is how it’s going to go down:

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You got this big chance, the world is your stage and everybody, and I mean fucking everybody, is watching. So what are you going to do? It’s got to be something different, something that will surprise everyone and raise the bar in your given field. The sort of thing that changes the way people think about how things can be done. Now all the groundwork has been done and the publicity has built the expectancy to fever pitch. They’re all waiting and watching twitching in their seats.

And what is your grand gesture to your global audience? The same old shit you always do. Make for the nearest central square or monuments, put up some badly made banners, drink cider, smoke weed and generally stink up the place. I mean ffs! You have this absolutely amazing opportunity to create a mass gathering of people all over the world, who are pissed with this lot for basically fucking everything up for everyone and you make sure that you marginalise any newcomers to the cause by selling it as a riot…and a not very good one at that.

Planning and tactics people, that’s what it’s about and shit that causes disruption to people making money. Look at what Plane Stupid did, they stopped planes taking off, people going on holiday and the airport and airlines delivering their service. They got maximum publicity, they were all over the papers and some the demonstrators became minor celebrities out of it. They only name you lot managed to get in the papers, was the bloke who cashed in his chips.

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We’re all for a bit of quirkiness round here, so here we have something a bit different by Joseph Morpurgo. At this point I should start talking enthusiastically about how this video has been directly influenced by revered filmmaker D. A. Pennebaker, going on to talk about how his work changed documentary filmmaking by shooting with a hand-held camera, eschewing voice-over narration and interviews in favor of the portrayal of actual events. But I like Michael Bay films with cars, beautiful women and explosions and beautiful women who like cars and explosions. So what the fuck do I know?

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