Tag: <span>SHUT</span>

We got a Wii in January, and Guitar Hero arrived this week. I’ve not played it much but there are a few tips I thought I’d pass on.

The first one is obvious, if you don’t have it (and you like rock music) GET IT! I know it’s hard to find, I ended up ordering mine online. I first played it at about 2am on New Year morning, and was instantly taken with it. It’s quite a straightforward game but is completely absorbing, mind you I’m not sure the word ‘game’ is adequate, it’s more an entertainment experience or something…

The next tip is to make sure you’ve closed the curtains, drawn the blinds, and generally are free to prance around your living room like a twat. Not that you’ll be prancing much but you do want to be…

…standing up. Tip three made a real difference to me, and whilst I’m not entirely sure why I do know that being able to move along to the music really helped me suss out the combinations and rhythms.

And finally have an alarm clock or some method of alerting you of the time. The temptation for just one more song is high and before you know it, you’ll hearing a banging from upstairs as your wife gently yells that it’s TWO FUCKING AM! SHUT UP!! as you shred through some more AC/DC… allegedly.


I hate people who moan.

Which is odd as I do like a good old-fashioned whine from time to time but that’s more a cathartic reaction to a crap day than a perpetual state of bloody-minded dourness. Some people probably spend large portions of their life wondering why they have few friends and why they never really feel happy. Actually that’s not true, the moaners of our world have a habit so deeply ingrained they are undoubtedly unaware of themselves and the annoyed by-standers who would really like them to just SHUT UP.

Of course when it comes to any form of self-loathing, everything is relative. MY life sucks more than yours, MY day was worse than yours, MY luck is worse than yours… and so on.

It does seem to be on the rise, this insistence that I have to listen to every gripe and groan, no matter whether they are valid or not. So I’m doing what I can to combat it, fighting back in the only way I know how.

I’m being the cheeriest bugger in the office.

Admittedly it seems to be freaking people out a little but hey, whatever works, right?

I wish I could understand the motivation behind the constant moaner, surely no-one is THAT miserable ALL THE TIME? Surely there is something that offers them a glimmer of hope, a hint of happiness… I mean something OTHER than Celebrity X-Jungle Dancing, or whatever it’s called.

Personal Musings

I promised myself I’d limit this kind of post to a Friday only, so please just ignore Wednesday’s post (it’s full of woe anyway…). In fact so am I, being a Wednesday child. Explains a lot, doesn’t it.

Er… no. Not really.


Things wot I have learned to be effective #627: Don’t tag people with a Meme, let them lift it for themselves. Much more efficient than the usual “tag you’re it” method, and ensures no-one feels ‘excluded’ when you don’t pick them.


So, if comment is free why are all the comments riddled with dross and insults and negativity? No wait, that’s WHY they are full of dross, insults and negativity, because they are free… it’s a cyclic paradox wrapped in an enigma, cloaked by … ohh you know the drill..

I propose a new title: “comment is free, but only if you have something constructive to offer”.

Admittedly it’s not as catchy and yes, sometimes the quality of the articles could be better, but sometimes I think that blogs have a lot of bad things to answer for… but then I remember that it’s nothing to do with blogs and everything to do with ranting, opinionated, glory-seeking idiots.

Ladies and Gentlepeeps, if you don’t have something interesting to say, SHUT THE FUCK UP! And yes, THAT comment IS free. Pass it on.


I fully expect that previous nugget of wisdom to boomerang around this little corner of blogland and smack me square on the nose.


I’ve been toying with setting up an olde fashioney “homepage”. That means moving this blog and ideally doing clever things with redirects and such. Not exactly sure what I want to do yet but thoughts, advice and general “no! for the love of all things cute and fluffy, don’t do it!” comments are, as usual, more than welcome.

After all, if you lot didn’t keep commenting I couldn’t keep ignoring you this site wouldn’t be half as much fun, or even ⅝ as much …


Whilst First ScotRail are improving, the conduct of passengers is still a matter of concern.

As well as ignoring my telepathetic glares to turn down THEIR music which I can hear over MY music —but that’s because I’m considerate and don’t play my music at ear-bleeding volumes—
it seems that some unsavoury types have decided that it’s OK to start boarding the train whilst others are getting off.

Yesterday morning I found myself nearest the doors and, as they hissed open and I moved forward, some oik started to step up into the carriage. Next thing I know and my hand is thrust inches from his chest, palm out, and I’m doing my best Barbara Woodhouse impression:

“Wait.” said firmly, with authority.

And he did (“Good dog!”).

He stood there looking bemused, mouth slightly agape, whilst behind me a small cheer rippled through the carriage.

I may have imagined that last bit.

Now I’m not sure it’s related, but have I mentioned that I’m currently reading the latest offering from Lynn Truss, Talk to the Hand?

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What IS the point of an alarm that keeps going for… checks clock17 keffing minutes!!

If no-one has turned it off by now, then either the burglars have buggered off, or they’re still in there knowing fine well that no-one is investigating the alarm.

OK, if I’m honest I’m hoping that writing and posting this will cause one of those coincidences where, the second I hit the PUBLISH button, the alarm ceases.

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One of the characters in the book I’m reading mentions that he is always “ahead of conversations”. He mentions that by the time someone is partway through a sentence he invariably knows what they are going to say, and the rest of the time he has to maintain an “air of interest”. This act bores him to tears, leaving him mentally unstimulated.

Anyone else sympathise with this? I’m not saying it’s a permanent thing, but all too frequently I find myself having to bite back the words “Yes, I get your point, you don’t need to waffle on for another minute, PLEASE SHUT UP!”.

Moving on.

Feeling slightly more human today. Was in bed and asleep by 10pm last night, slept straight through until 7am. Seems to have cleared my head a bit thankfully. Thanks for your well wishes (and threats of suicide). I’ll catch up with you all later today and this evening. Promise.

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I’m not a morning person. I thought everyone knew this? Well everyone except Little Miss Loudgob and her mates who get on at Newton and yak at high volume the whole way to Glasgow Central. OK, it’s only 20 minutes or so but… SHUT UP!!

In other news – very busy. New author (re)joining us today. Much to do. TTFN.

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I’m in a very good mood today. Woke up, opened the curtains, and quickly shut them again at the subtle request of my darling wife (AARRGHHH SHUT THE FUCKING CURTAINS!!). Once she got up I opened them again and marveled at the morning sky. Not a cloud in sight, a brushing of frost across every surface, and the sun creeping up over the horizon, fiery orange blending to pale blue. Gorgeous.

I love mornings like these. Crisp and cold, fresh and dry. Lovely. My wife likes them too, once she gets rid of the babbling idiot who, in the short journey to the station, points out every little joy of a crisp winter’s morning.

My mood was further enhanced by the acquisition of my new laptop at work. Sitting on my desk waiting for me, all shiny and widescreen-y.

Which is just as well as I’d had to endure the fawning, pawing couple opposite me on the train who seemed oblivious to the fact that they were on a train full of hacked-off thirty somethings on their way to another day at the grindstone. Nauseous is not even close when it comes to describing them. Well him more than her to be fair. She seemed at least aware that the three people sitting opposite were all holding their papers a little higher than is normal. HE was a sap. Fawning over her, kissing her neck, cuddling into her, talking in a silly voice, the whole shebang.

Now I’ve done that, I still do that but in the privacy of my own home (and with the understanding that ‘experience’ brings, namely that it is leading somewhere, or at least I hope it does.. and I’m not undervaluing snuggling, I realise full well the bonus points you can score with a little ‘no pressure for sex’ snuggling. See us men aren’t ALL daft… where was I?).

Oh yes. When did I get old? I’m 30. I’ve know Louise for half my life, so I guess that’s part of it. We’ve done the whole ‘holding hands, snogging at every opportunity’ bit. We got over it when we were 17 (not the greatest way to impress when you are sitting in the pub with your mates….). We both enjoy sitting in, watching a movie, a bottle of wine, or visiting friends, sitting in, chatting. Or dinner, wine, chatting.

When did I turn into my Dad? Just curious really as I can’t pinpoint it, it’s such a creeping process, slowly your mannerisms alter, your opinions are moulded and you realise that you clear your throat the same way he does, have the same tastes, and generally realise that a lot of the things he does, you have inherited.

I could do a lot worse (although I could do without the waking at 4 am every morning, something where I’m hoping inheriting my Mum’s sleeping habits will come in to play).

My name is Gordon, and I’m a 40-something, 30-something. I quite like that.

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