<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16680109</id><updated>2011-04-22T00:09:13.326Z</updated><title type='text'>Surly Musings</title><subtitle type='html'>I'm British.  The only thing we like better than queuing for stuff is to moan about stuff.
I am Surly Man.  This means I'm surly.  I'm irritated by the small and large things in life.  This is where I vent my anger.  I can be quite placid aswell.  But not often.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surlyman.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16680109/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surlyman.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>El Santo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15366997220462718232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.cecimoz.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/DTD.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16680109.post-112838056786070537</id><published>2005-10-03T22:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-10-03T23:02:47.866Z</updated><title type='text'>God Damn Motivation....</title><content type='html'>Where is it when you need it?  You sit pondering all day over ideas thinking "Yeah, that's a good one, I'll have a stab at that."  Then you sit down and what?  Balls all.  Whatever it is I'm doing, writing, animating, whatever, I simply cannot be arsed the majority of the time.&lt;br /&gt;I fully believe if I had motivation I'd be raking it in by now.  I'd be motivated to give more positive answers in interviews, I'd be going to meetings, I'd be brokering deals to make me even more money.  But no.  Here I sit, whining about it on the internet, because it's easier to complain about something than anything else isn't it?  You can just spout it off and it's done.  Everything else takes time, takes planning.  Sod planning.  Build me a robot that can plan for me, then I'll be happy.  When I eventually do sit down to do something I always rush it through, cut corners etc.  I'm shabby.  I'd be a cowboy plumber or electrician.  Do not get me to do a job for you, I'll never get round to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of jobs though.  Can someone tell me what that pan-faced spacker Kerry Katona's job is?  I fucking hate her.  I really despise this woman.  If I was motivated enough I'd start a campaign to get that bitch off the front cover of OK! every week.  She's always on cos she's gatecrashed some other Z-list celebs party. &lt;br /&gt;1) She's talentless.  She even admitted she never sang on the few SHIT songs she did with Atomic Kitten.&lt;br /&gt;2)  She's a fucking grade A ming.  "Wooh I've had a boob job?" So fucking what?  It doesn't hide the fact your face looks like a fucking gnomes.  You wide nosed bitch.&lt;br /&gt;3)  She's a coke head.  Fuck your bollocks about being hurt by your mates 'lies'.  You're a silly tart so I wouldn't put coke past you.  Then you bleat on about how 'hard' it's been for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shut your rancid Warrington cakehole.  Is it hard being the 'face' of Iceland (Iceland now ugliest supermarket ever!)?  Is it hard sponging off Bryan McFadden's royalties from Westlife and his oh-so-successful solo career to feed your porky little kids (and your coke habit)?  Is it hard plastering your face across OK! magazine every week (for a tidy sum no doubt) for ABSOLUTELY NO BASTARD REASON WHATSOEVER?&lt;br /&gt;No it's fucking not hard.  It's not hard and it's the 'career' path you chose to take, so fucking deal with it.  Hard is getting paid pittance or even worse, living on the streets.  Hard is actually being ill and not getting treated for something as pathetic as 'depression'.  Hard is having to read about how much of a silly tart you are without getting angry.  Believe me, it's impossible.  I hope by some grace of God you read this.  Your a talentless tramp and I hope your head falls off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mehh, I can't be arsed writing any more now because the rage is seizing my fingers up.  I'm going in search of your website and posting abuse.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16680109-112838056786070537?l=surlyman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surlyman.blogspot.com/feeds/112838056786070537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16680109&amp;postID=112838056786070537&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16680109/posts/default/112838056786070537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16680109/posts/default/112838056786070537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surlyman.blogspot.com/2005/10/god-damn-motivation.html' title='God Damn Motivation....'/><author><name>El Santo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15366997220462718232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.cecimoz.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/DTD.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16680109.post-112716766808341906</id><published>2005-09-19T23:10:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-09-19T22:07:48.090Z</updated><title type='text'>Okay time for me to lighten up....</title><content type='html'>I've just been reading back over my first few posts, the last one getting pretty heated.  I've done nothing but talk about what's annoyed me, my gripes, my dislikes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to lay down what I do actually like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like picking the weirdest thing off the menu in a restaurant.  Whether it's an Indian, Chinese, Russian, Greek, Africanm Spanish, Mexican, Italian whatever, if it's got something weird down on that menu I'll buy it.  I'm a culinary daredevil.  I fear no food.  I will try anything once so I do it with the knowledge that I can say "I've tried that" and also because it keeps the kitchen staff on their toes.  If you pick something that hardly ever gets ordered chances are you'll get the freshest of the fresh food and not something that's been warming on the stove in a big vat all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like the park.  The park is cool.  Whether it's in the middle of winter or the middle of summer, the park is a cool place to hangout.  Yes I'm 25, I don't mean hang out and drink cider like a little teenage oik, I mean chill out, read a book, take in the scenery, get some fresh air, a chance to forget about everything else good or bad going on in your life for a short while.  I've got a lot of time for parks.  They're underrated.  They need a reinessance period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like music.  If I was given a choice of never being able to watch TV again or never being able to listen to music again, I'd choose to never watch TV again.  It's rubbish.  Music however, that's something different.  You can wake up every day of your life and hear songs all day you've never heard before.  You could do this every day of your life, with TV, it's all pretty much a same old same old done before formula.  Not music though.  That changes shape on a daily basis.  Listen to music.  The best way to learn about music you'd probably never even consider before is to join the Summer Burn at &lt;a href="http://www.funjunkie.co.uk"&gt;http://www.funjunkie.co.uk&lt;/a&gt; you send out two CDs of music you like to two random strangers, two random strangers send you a cd with their favourites on.  It's fantastic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like reading.  Reading a good book can inspire you to do anything, to think differently, to make life choices, to inspire you, to bring you to tears, to make you laugh, to make you think about things in a different light.  Not enough kids read these days.  Too many things to occupy their minds.  Yeah I know I'm only 25, but still, video game consoles have a lot to answer for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see by the size of my blogs, I like writing.  I do intend to attempt a book or something at some stage in my life.  It's the main reason why I started this blog really, just so I'm constantly writing and that I can use all that I've wrote as source material should the 'big idea' finally pop into my head.  Writing is a release.  Forget drugs, writing down what's going on in your head is a bigger rush than anything a drug can give you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like cake.  Much love goes out to cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girls.  What's wrong with that?  Girls are great.  I have one, that shows how great they are.  They know how to do things aswell like sew buttons back on to things.  I change a lightbulb, I get my jeans fixed.  I reach something off a high shelf, I get taught about the merits of using moisturiser.  Hmmmm, maybe that's too much information.  But yes, without girls FHM, Zoo, Nuts, Loaded, Maxim would have nothing to fill their magazines with and Holly Willoughby would not exist.  Or Lucy Pinder.  Or Keira Knightley.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Football.  I like football.  Liverpool FC to be precise.  Champions of Europe and all that (although I had to see the final in fits and starts because I was working in America and they don't understand football).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like travelling.  I don't just mean to a different country I mean anywhere.  Whether it's on the train to work, a trip out for the day, a bus into town, whatever.  You can think alot.  You can take in sights and sounds.  Travelling is cool (although as I write this I feel a rant about aeroplanes but I shall hold off for another time).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The toilet.  I do most of my thinking upon the throne.  Toilets are inspirational.  Not public ones mind, they're just wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joining Yahoo Groups and posting nonsense.  Failing this mailing random people with nonsense.  You'll either make them laugh or just annoy them, either way, it's a good stress reliever touching someone with your own strain of madness.  Mail a stranger today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack Daniels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of the above are fantastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The supernatural.  Whether it's real or fake you can't knock it.  It keeps you guessing.  Things that keep you guessing are good.  Life needs more mystery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There.  Not a rant in sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quite a calm mood this evening.  You've caught me on a very bad day :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16680109-112716766808341906?l=surlyman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surlyman.blogspot.com/feeds/112716766808341906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16680109&amp;postID=112716766808341906&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16680109/posts/default/112716766808341906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16680109/posts/default/112716766808341906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surlyman.blogspot.com/2005/09/okay-time-for-me-to-lighten-up.html' title='Okay time for me to lighten up....'/><author><name>El Santo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15366997220462718232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.cecimoz.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/DTD.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16680109.post-112695984219039109</id><published>2005-09-17T13:32:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-09-17T12:24:02.196Z</updated><title type='text'>Old People - The Most Anti-Social Ungrateful Horrors On Earth</title><content type='html'>Forget terrorist groups preaching hate against the west, forget happy slapping unruly teens, old people have got to be the biggest boil on the arse that is humanity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They demand respect, yet do little to earn it. So you fought in a war, get over it. There've been a lot more wars since that, it wasn't the only one in existence y'know. Perhaps if you showed a bit of respect to your fellow man you might not piss me off as much as you do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm writing this as I've just read with disgust an article on Teletext about an ungrateful, stupid, idiotic, pathetic old couple in Pembrokeshire who went for a coastal walk and got stranded when the tide came in. A, and I quote 'worried passer-by' called the lifeguard who immediately, knowing full well they were an old couple launched boats and helicopters to come to their rescue. What happened upon the coastguards arrival? They were met with a torrent of abuse from the old gits who refused to be rescued, and later walked to safety of their own accord.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You horrible horrible old bastards. How dare you. You're stupid enough to get yourself in a mess, and refused professional help to get out of it. Quite frankly you deserve everything you get. I hope by some Grace of God you stumble across this blog on the internet (not that you'd know how as you're all thick as shit) because I want you to read this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I hope you get stuck next week and can't escape and no one comes to rescue you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's two less old people in the world to bother us. Harsh but fair. Quite frankly these two muppets have shown they deserve no respect or courtesy in life ever again. Not that they'll be around much longer (hopefully). It wouldn't be the case if it was the middle of December and you're heating had broke would it? Or if you were going hungry and you were offered a meals on wheels service? Or you had cancer and needed treatement? You wouldn't turn your wrinkly old noses up then would you? You absolute gang of hypocritical horrors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's just see what old people contribute to modern society shall we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They, similarly to the happy slapper chavs, clog up shopping centres taking up all the seats in there (I once saw a gang of the crusty cretins sit and watch as a pregnant woman struggled with bags and not one offered a seat to her).&lt;br /&gt;You expect to be given a seat on a bus.&lt;br /&gt;You're a drain on government funding with your pensions and benefits.&lt;br /&gt;You clog up doctors surgery when you've got colds thinking it's the chilly hands of death clutching at your soul.&lt;br /&gt;You clog up hostpitals.&lt;br /&gt;For those of you that still want to drive, you cause mayhem on roads driving at 10 miles an hour.&lt;br /&gt;You walk slowly.&lt;br /&gt;You think you are the only people in a supermarket and can thus take up the entire aisle with your trolley containing 1 can of salmon and some rice pudding whilst you debate over which jelly will be kind to your dentures.&lt;br /&gt;You smell.&lt;br /&gt;You wee yourself.&lt;br /&gt;You phone your relatives mithering and asked to be taken here there and everywhere cos your too old.&lt;br /&gt;Really, yet when your stranded on the coast you're just fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really hate you all. You do nothing to contribute to society. You just hang on and hang on and help over populate the country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I was Prime Minister I'd order a cull. All you over 65's had better watch your step if I run for Parliament. I can hear your joints creaking in fear as we speak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1408/1590/320/M-old%20couple-ready.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16680109-112695984219039109?l=surlyman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surlyman.blogspot.com/feeds/112695984219039109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16680109&amp;postID=112695984219039109&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16680109/posts/default/112695984219039109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16680109/posts/default/112695984219039109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surlyman.blogspot.com/2005/09/old-people-most-anti-social-ungrateful.html' title='Old People - The Most Anti-Social Ungrateful Horrors On Earth'/><author><name>El Santo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15366997220462718232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.cecimoz.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/DTD.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16680109.post-112680137384952724</id><published>2005-09-15T17:23:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-09-15T18:35:35.590Z</updated><title type='text'>Thursday Rain</title><content type='html'>It always rains on a Thursday. Do you know why? Let me tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every Thursday I always go to the pub quiz with a group of friends. To all those who cry 'nerd' or 'real ale drinker' I simply say: No. Y'see I go the pub, with people, it's a social thing. Y'know. REAL PEOPLE. Not someone I chat to on MSN or AIM like you ;)&lt;br /&gt;Anyway to cut a long story short, it always pisses it down, meaning getting wet going and getting wet coming home. Mehhhh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It also rains on a Thursday as a way of saying "Muhahaha, look what you've got to look forward to after a week in work." So no doubt the weekend will be crap. Well wet anyway, but wet is crap and crap isn't good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus why do the roads suddenly get busier when it rains? True people don't want to get wet but you aren't telling me there are that many health conscious people in the UK that they all walk miles to work every day. Or maybe they're scared a train will slip off it's tracks or their regular bus will flood? Either way &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;STOP IT&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;STOP IT NOW&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. I want the road to myself thanks very much, and you are crowding my space. I get angry when I'm crowded. If you see someone gesticulating in a blue Peugot in your rear view mirror, it's probably me. You have been warned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally on the subject of rain, Lady Smith Black Mambazo. I blame you for it all and your stupid 'rain rain rain rain' incantation song. Shut up. Or write one about the sun. Sun is good. Barbeques happen in the sun. Girls wear less in the sun. Girl in a mini-skirt or girl in a mack? Hmmmm, some perverts on the internet may opt for the latter. You dirty deviants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I hate it when your girlfriend has a problem with someone, whether it be one of her friends or one of yours, and then when you endure a problem at this persons hands and you pipe up about it, she berates you and calls you paranoid. Women. I ask you. There's only two type of women that don't complain at you all the time, they come in mpeg and jpeg format via the internet. What was that about deviants again? ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, &lt;strong&gt;TO THE PUB!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;But not before sharing this delightful picture of a Sheep fancy dress costume in a window near my house. No.....I can't think of a child that this wouldn't scare the living shite out of either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1408/1590/320/sheep.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16680109-112680137384952724?l=surlyman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surlyman.blogspot.com/feeds/112680137384952724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16680109&amp;postID=112680137384952724&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16680109/posts/default/112680137384952724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16680109/posts/default/112680137384952724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surlyman.blogspot.com/2005/09/thursday-rain.html' title='Thursday Rain'/><author><name>El Santo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15366997220462718232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.cecimoz.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/DTD.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16680109.post-112678357128903028</id><published>2005-09-15T11:23:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-09-15T11:34:28.420Z</updated><title type='text'>Nosey Workmates...</title><content type='html'>Don't you just hate nosey people who sit next to you and take great interest in what you are doing or what you are looking at on your monitor?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I'd write this because I've got one such nosey person doing it right now. Yes you with the glasses on. Stop looking at my screen. And stop asking me to forward on any HILARIOUS emails I get sent because you could 'do with a laugh'. I could do with you keeping out of my business but that ain't gonna happen is it? Neither is me forwarding you anything. Get back to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmmm. He's still looking. Only now there's a slight hint of sorrow in his face. Stop sulking. You miserable little shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1408/1590/320/Baby.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16680109-112678357128903028?l=surlyman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surlyman.blogspot.com/feeds/112678357128903028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16680109&amp;postID=112678357128903028&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16680109/posts/default/112678357128903028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16680109/posts/default/112678357128903028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surlyman.blogspot.com/2005/09/nosey-workmates.html' title='Nosey Workmates...'/><author><name>El Santo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15366997220462718232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.cecimoz.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/DTD.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16680109.post-112671931466657579</id><published>2005-09-14T18:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-09-14T17:39:41.410Z</updated><title type='text'>SONY :  DAYLIGHT ROBBERS</title><content type='html'>So I got me one of those PSP's today. Sony's new baby. A portable photo,video,mp3,game playing device. Now don't get me wrong, it looks good, it feels good, and beats the living piss out of the Nintendo DS or any of it's predecessors. But once again I can't help but feel cheated by Sony. Allow me to explain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The PS2 is coming up to being around 4-5 years old yes? When this came out it was the must have thing by young and old alike. Quality games, built in DVD player, and of course chippable ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the princely sum of around £250 they provided you with everything bar one thing: a memory card. You couldn't save nothing unless you had one. So you had to go to the shop and get stung for a further £30 to buy one of these things. A ballbreaker to say the least. "HAHA here's your Playstation 2, but you have to stump up more to save your precious things!" My response? "You wankers".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now they've done it again with the PSP. Ranting on about how it'll have downloadable content, you can listen to mp3s on it, watch videos saved to your memory card on it, look at pictures saved to your memory card on it. Nice one. That's ace. That's fan-bastard-tastic. They even throw in a 32mb memory card for you. Top stuff! However.....they missed out one vital element which you must now go out and buy: A USB lead so you can save shit from your PC to your memory card. My response? You wankers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I don't want to go off on a geek trip here because it's painful when a geek rants. They operate on a pitch only dogs can here when they really get going, but my gripe is this:&lt;br /&gt;I'm just a simple man, I like simple things. I'm not really arsed about your UMD movies, it's just an excuse to lash a DVD on a smaller disc and charge 4 quid extra. I'm not too fussed about games. Other than the PSP Grand Theft Auto I won't really be bothering with PSP games. But my mp3s and my porn videos (yes porn, I am not afraid to admit to having a penchant for the stuff) I cannot listen to or watch immediately. No no no. I have to wait till a fucking USB lead gets shipped from Hong Kong or wherever the hell I find it cheapest on Ebay. Furthermore I have to pay for this rather than be provided with one by Sony who rant about this piece of shits capabilities yet restrict each and every customer from the off. Way to treat your customers you gang of pricks.&lt;br /&gt;Well let it be known. I'll only be watching porn or leeched episodes of my favourite shows on it. I'll only be listening to downloaded mp3s on it. And hey if I can get some emulators running on it and play some old school titles then your games can royally cock off aswell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I say to Sony and their PSP right about now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1408/1590/1600/100_1672.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 355px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 234px" height="238" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1408/1590/320/100_1672.jpg" width="475" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bid you good day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16680109-112671931466657579?l=surlyman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surlyman.blogspot.com/feeds/112671931466657579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16680109&amp;postID=112671931466657579&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16680109/posts/default/112671931466657579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16680109/posts/default/112671931466657579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surlyman.blogspot.com/2005/09/sony-daylight-robbers.html' title='SONY :  DAYLIGHT ROBBERS'/><author><name>El Santo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15366997220462718232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.cecimoz.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/DTD.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16680109.post-112661104409927472</id><published>2005-09-13T19:30:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-09-15T11:32:38.830Z</updated><title type='text'>The Ashes and Cricket Are Complete Cack</title><content type='html'>So England won the cricket eh? We finally won the dust cup, sorry Ashes. In fact, I'm not even going to refer to the collective as 'we' because I want nothing to do with it. I've never liked cricket.&lt;br /&gt;I've hated it since I played it on the back fields near my house and was rubbish at it, admitted I was rubbish at it, yet it didn't stop some knob named John (I know where you live you Skeletor headed rimjaw) who I might add was 18 at the time having a right old go at me for missing a catch. I was 10 years old. This didn't stop Mr Competitive though, oh no. He ranted for a good half an hour. Yawn yawn yawn. This wasn't even for a dust cup either. It was for 'fun'. Do you ever get pissed off when you can see someone is an absolute wanker yet those around them think they're aces? Boils my piss it does. But anyway I digress.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah the cricket. It's rubbish. New football? I think not. I hate fairweather supporters. Probably never even seen a game of cricket before in their life before taking an interest once England looked like we were going to win something. What if England hadn't won? What would they cling to then? Would they hunt out the next rubbish sport we were close to winning and all run and support that? What if it was badger racing? Would that be the new football? Bandwagon Bastards Boil My Piss. The same folk who rushed to watch England win the Dust, sorry Ashes, are probably the same sad cases who rush to Wimbledon every year because it's 'Henmania' season once again. Henman is, was and always will be, crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1408/1590/1600/3545142720.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1408/1590/320/3545142720.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1408/1590/1600/2864082212.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1408/1590/320/2864082212.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1408/1590/1600/3545142720.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now the Ashes is over, what are all those idiots doing? I'll tell you what they're doing, they're joining the new craze gripping the nation: Forecourt queuing. Yeah, Petrol! Goooo Petrol! We can't get enough of that sticky ooze! C'mon let's all go down and queue up before the 'strike'. What strike? They've been threatening for a week and still haven't said they will or they won't. Fact of the matter is, prices always go up, they never ever go down. Name me the last time it was announced the cost of petrol was being dramatically slashed rather than increased? My suggestion? Deal with it. I do, and I'm pretty sure other people do to. "Oh no the petrol prices are rising again" "Oh no the cost of cigarettes have risen again.". Cost of cigarettes rising? This is only a good thing. I don't want to die of cancer caused by your smoke thanks very much. It's your own stupid fault for wanting to clog your lungs on purpose in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;And petrol? If you don't want to pay for 'expensive' petrol (oooooh over a pound a litre) then &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;GET THE TRAIN OR BUS OR EVEN BETTER WALK YOU LAZY SHITEHAWK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. No petrol does not mean the end of the world. People have become too reliant on technology. Do you think cavemen were arsed? No. Cavemen had to go and run about like headless chickens throwing rocks at dinosaurs to get their dinner. They didn't drive to Maccy D's for a Big Mac Meal. And then when they actually caught something worth eating they didn't have the joy of a George Foreman Grill to whack it onto either. Technology has made us complacent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could go on forever. However, it's nearly the end of lunch and I've got to get back to my crap job that is ultimately the reason why I'm such an angry head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheerio.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16680109-112661104409927472?l=surlyman.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://surlyman.blogspot.com/feeds/112661104409927472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16680109&amp;postID=112661104409927472&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16680109/posts/default/112661104409927472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16680109/posts/default/112661104409927472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://surlyman.blogspot.com/2005/09/ashes-and-cricket-are-complete-cack.html' title='The Ashes and Cricket Are Complete Cack'/><author><name>El Santo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15366997220462718232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.cecimoz.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/DTD.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
