I’ve always been the youngest in my family, so I’ve never had to interact with kids all that much; but after four years living with my girlfriend and not far from her family, of whom she is the eldest in her generation, I’m forced to interact with young kids an awful lot.

Now here’s the thing. I’m occasionally roped into ‘helping out’ when it comes to entertaining them; and I’m fine with that, honestly, it’s cool. However, every now and then, this will evolve into more than looking at a drawing or throwing them up in the air, and I’ll perhaps be forced to play a board game with them… And therein lies the problem.
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I was serving a kindly old man at the bar today. He had come for lunch, as he has often done since his wife died recently. He’s probably near 90 and, despite his frailty, is always very nice and polite and funny. Today when he came, there was a little boy screaming and shouting in […]

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It takes little more than the lowest of I.Q.’s to discern the true nature of (the man known today as) Jesus Christ from the various mentions of him throughout the biblical texts.

The long hair and the beard, spending all day in a dressing gown and flip-flops, yammering on about peace and love; isn’t it obvious?

Jesus of Nazareth was a hippie. A pot smoking hippie.

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As a rule, I tend to avoid newspapers. I occasionally watch the news in the background at work, and I keep up to date with worldwide affairs via twitter postings from the major news channels; but when it comes to flicking through the detritus of the British media, I try to stay well away. I don’t care which footballer slept with which other footballer’s wife, nor do I care which reality television ‘celebrity’ is in rehab; crying over their recent breakup with some equally vacuous television personality. However, as you can guess from my demeanour and opinions; the headline shown above did grab my attention today, and I decided to give it a quick glance, to see if it was as ignorant and insulting as I had already assumed it would be.

I was wrong. It was worse.

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Felix: What’s your favourite film?
Ian: Uhh… I’ve got two.
Felix: Well, what are they?
Ian: One’s Top Gun and one’s Armageddon.
Felix: … Those are both… Awful. Why? Armageddon?
Ian: Yeah, it’s kinda funny.
Felix: Funny? What’s funny about Armageddon; there’s not a single joke in that film.
Ian: It’s humour…
Felix: Okay… So, so why Top Gun? That’s pretty homoerotic.
Ian: It’s just… It’s a movie… It’s a movie I watched with my babysitter when I was fifteen and she was twenty… … three.
Felix: How does that impact on the film?
Ian: ‘Cause I remember I went to see it, I was into aeroplanes at the time. So I watched the movie Top Gun.
Felix: Well, why does it matter about the babysitter?
Ian: ‘Cause she were to… Mah… The babysitter were babysitting me when I wanted to watch the movie.
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When it came on the radio three million times before, I apparently wasn’t paying much attention. Today however, my eyes and ears became open to a deeply disturbing subtext in the famous Christmas song ‘Baby, it’s cold outside’. Don’t believe me? You will. Just look at these genuinely upsetting lyrics.

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Okay… so you all remember the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: the campy cartoons, and slightly-less-campy comics, about the anthropomorphic warrior turtles with their rat master, Splinter, right? And do you all remember the primary antagonist of the franchise: the evil samurai looking chap ominously referred to as ‘Shredder‘? Well for those of you that do, but aren’t sure as to just what became of Mr ‘Shredder’, I would like to inform you of something:

The Turtles decapitated him.

This isn’t like Sonic the Hedgehog, where Dr Robotnik gets a bonk on the head; nor is it Mario, where Bowser simply gets kicked off screen while vicious sociopath Mario tries to garner an appreciation fuck out of the traumatised princess. This is the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles…

… and when you fuck with them, they cut your fucking head off.

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I barely know where to start with this. My day has just been insane. I guess I should do a quick recap to (try to) make it make any sense to anyone reading… Although I doubt I’ll have too much luck as it makes fuck all sense to me, and I was there!

Basically, the bar I work at has had its busiest week in the 7 or 8 years of its existence. I started the day on my 12th 12 hour shift in a row with only one day off somewhere in the middle, no time to eat, drink or rest in any way and as someone who already has severe life-long insomnia, I can barely articulate my exhaustion, but can attempt to summarise it by saying “I am fucked.” Although to be honest, I’m probably too tired to even finished the word, so “I am fu…” may be more appropriate.

Reaching, and crossing, breaking point about half a week ago, I have been tip-toeing the line between mild confusion brought on by severe fatigue, and what a doctor may refer to as “a full blown fuck-tacular breakdown”…

So you can imagine my surprise when Miss Havisham came to the bar.

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A small boy is walking home with some groceries in an Italian village, when he stops and stares at an amazing ray of light in the sky. We see the golden clouds part as a figure falls, literally from the heavens, crashing down into a restaurant table, presumably injuring some bystanders. Everyone, little boy included, gathers around what must be a corpse after such a fall. People are crying and in shock. Then the crowds part, and we see an angel, a beautiful angel, halo and all, rise to her feet as the music begins to play.

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I know what you’re all thinking…

“There just isn’t enough hard, sweaty, brooding, overly masculine, strong-jawed men in the Fast and Furious franchise!”

Well don’t worry, guys… they brought in The Rock for the newest instalment to add a bit of realistic manliness to the effeminate, and apparently never ending, movie chain. Continue reading