spot.com

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Government wins vote on Wildlife Bill

This is a great laugh. Just listening to NewsTalk and they have an array of hang-sangwidge bogshite TDs opining that the banning of 'controlled' stag hunting in Meath is the beginning of the end of rooerr-tal Ireland.



A Wild Stag, roaming free in the Phoenix Park




A Political Stagg who encountered some problems whilst roaming in the Phoenix Park

"Next ting you know, those elite Dublin Libb-har-rils will be going after coursin' and fishin', and banning G-AY sports cus they might be a bit violent if the odd schmozzle or bit of manslaughter happens in an inter-county game".

Mary O'Rourke said she and her party "would not accept further inroads into rural pursuits". I'm not sure if she includes incest, Country & Irish showbands and clerical abuse under the umbrella of rural pursuits.

Sure enough, Jackie Healy-Rae and Michael Lowry indicated that they would vote against the Bill. The biggest buffoon in the Dail and the biggest crook in the Dail, respectively.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Geno Washington - Michael the Lover

This is the same Geno made famous by the Dexy's Midnight Runners classic tune from around 1980. Geno was an ex-GI who stayed on in London in the mid-60s and was a hugely popular act on the scene, as the Stones and the Yardbirds had fecked off to America for long tours, so he cleaned up on the R&B crowds.

Not sure what he's up to now - last I heard, he was a qualified a hypnoetherapist or something, and is a DJ on regional radio in England. I have a book that he wrote, somewhere - never finished it - quite the most bizarre novel I've ever read; a cross between an African 'Mills & Boon' gone mad and a Frederick Forsyth politicial intrigue thing. 

There are a few online interviews with Geno on the web - one with Noel 'fecking' Edmonds. In all of them, Geno comes across as the nicest, maddest and funniest person on the planet.

Anyhoo, Kevin Rowland's lyrics with Dexys were alway incomprehensible, but thankfully we have Google now to assist in solving such mysteries.


Academic inspiration, you gave me none
You were Michael the Lover
The fighter that won
But now just look at me as
I'm looking down at you
No, I'm not bein flash
It's what I'm built to do


That man took the stage, his towel was swingin' high
This man was my bombers, my Dexy's, my high
Oh-oh-oh Geno-o
The crowd they all hailed you, and chanted your name
But they never knew like we knew
Me and you were the same
And now you're all over, your song is so tame, brrrrr
You fed me, you bred me, I'll remember your name

Thursday, June 24, 2010

TV3 - Celebrity Salon



It's very difficult to imagine how TV3 could ever produce a show even worse than their defunct late night TV quiz game fiasco - Play TV.

Somehow they have managed it with Celebrity Salon. I am embaressed to admit that I watched a whole show last week.

The premise is that 6 'alleged' celebrities have to fanny around grooming salons, cutting hair, going mad with emory boards, performing Brazilian waxes, applying tanning products to nameless models, all under the scrutiny of 'professionals' who coo endlessly about how 'the client always comes first' and 'nails can never look too smooth'.

The participants are four women whom I have never heard of (think 2 of them are TV3 regulars), the village idiot, Breffney from Bill Cullen's 'Apprentice' and finally, the loathsome Brian Dowling of Big Brother fame.

To call these 'celebs' Z-list would be an insult to Z-list celebs.

Anyhoo, Dowling appears convinced that he is has the witty mix of Oscar Wilde and Kenneth Williams but he just comes across as an increasingly physically bloated attention seeker; constantly mincing and gurning, in the most unfunny ways, every time he thinks the camera is on him.

His accent is also really irritating - a bizarre cross between an overly effeminate mid-Atlantic Disk Jockey and an extremely loud Kildare/London hybrid. I think he represents the gay community in a similar way to how Robert Mugabe represents all Africans.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

World Cup Soap Opera

Am loving the world cup at the moment...


France bombing out in an apparent suicide operation.  It's almost like Shakespeare:

Mad manager, thick-as-sh*t captain, schoolboy bullying of the pretty boy, middle class, play-maker;
Plotters: Henry, Evra, Ribery, Anelka. They all came out of it seeming like sleazy, dumb, overpaid, scumbags.

Wouldn't have happened a few years back when people like Blanc, Thuram or Deschamps were around.

Anyhoo, think it is down to 5 teams now. Brazil, Argentina, Spain, Netherlands or Germany.

Hope it is not Brazil - they have too many vocally Evangelical christians for my liking... Expect lots of 'Jesus loves you' T-Shirts being displayed by people like Lucio and Fabiano.

The Dutch are a very good price (8/1) as an outside bet, especially if Robben comes back to re-create the Big Four in attack. But they may have to beat Italy and Brazil in quick succession to reach the semis.

Fingers crossed that England bomb (which they will eventually).

Friday, June 18, 2010

Another FunkMeister gone - Garry Schider R.I.P.



















Just read on the wires that Garry 'StarChild' Shider, longtime stalwart of George Clinton's P-Funk organization has died of cancer.
http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/37764601/ns/today-entertainment/

Despite their deliberately tongue-in-cheek, cartoonish carry on, P-Funk were seriously brilliant musicians; none less so than Shider. I don't think it's much more than a year ago that I saw him play live with P-Funk and they were incredibly good. Seeing a 50-something man playing live wearing just a nappy was something else!

Here's a uTuber of Garry doing his thing on one of the classics - 'Cosmic Slop'.
http://bosanovasweetshop.blogspot.com/2010/03/cosmic-slop-fashion-never-dies.html

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

The Byrds - Going Back



The Byrds miming their excellent version of Goffin & Kings 'Going Back'.  Think Dusty Springfield's version is a lot more well known, and is usually used on ads for certain brands of tea.

Anyhoo, this is probably from about 1968, when David Crosby had been fired and Gene Clarke returned briefly to fill in.