Tuesday, May 30


Sorry.. just recollecting..

No, not recalling summers past when it did actually get hot in the summer months (we're three weeks away -give or take- from the longest day, and the weather is still predominantly poo, more akin to March than May).

No I was just thinking back to yesterday, Dad and I re-watched the FA Cup final, and I was remembering Gerrard's second goal.

Quite simply one of the finest goals I've ever seen - scorchio!

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This waiting is killing me..

I know I am in no position to complain. 

I'm not the one who's having contractions. 
I'm not the one stuck in hospital. 
I'm not the one who is going to have to squeeze out a baby through an opening roughly the size of a lemon. 

But Christ, this whole pregnancy and awaiting labour stuff seems long winded now.  I've been lied to by television and film again!  In the media, the woman is pregnant, she starts having contractions, they make a dash to the hospital (in, usually, a comedy manner, optionally with a police escort) and a few hours later baby pops out.  What they don't have on telly is a whole month of being in and out of hospital, before a consultant says "let's induce the baby" (which is, again, going to take at least 6 to 12 hours, possibly) leading to a basic inability to plan any further ahead than your next piss.

I'm sure when junior arrives, I'll smile continually for a week but, at this moment in time, this waiting around for it to be evicted from it's womb is a nightmare.

Surely it was all a lot easier when the Stork just turned up with the newborn baby?  It all went wrong when he got made redundant, I tell thee.

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Well we've thought that the end was near several times this month already, but today we've been given the clearest indication yet that baby is ready to make its way into the world.

Actually that isn't strictly true. 

Baby certainly isn't ready to make its way into the World, it's quite comfy and happy where it is thank you very much.  But now the consultant has decided otherwise, due to high blood pressure and high levels of Uric Acid, and the birth is going to be induced.  So it'll be injection time this morning and then wait (again!!) to see if anything happens.  I am currently awaiting the phone call to say "proper" labour has begun, until then I will be in work, coding away, listening to "Stadium Arcadium" (fabulous album).  But if you pop back sometime this week, baby K will make it's internet debut.  So watch this space.

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Carragher, Stevie G and St. Michael get the FA's knickers in a twist

Now Stan Boardman is undoubtedly one comedian that belongs squarely back in the 1970's, however this story did make me chuckle. The FA really are up their own arses, aren't they? I thought at first the players had actually sang on the single, not just sung it on the back of the bus.

Sense of humour failure or what?

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Monday, May 29

Lost In Thought

Finally watched the Lost season finalé.. however don't want to spoil it for anyone who hasn't seen it so thoughts are in the comments section..

In other news, I think the excitement of that last episode of Lost has brought on contractions.. watch this space

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Friday, May 26


Can anyone who a) reads this blog; b) has been invited to the wedding and c) has not yet RSVP'd the future in-laws, let me know soon(ish).  Even if you email me to let me know that you're coming (or not, as the case may be), that'd be great (no need to send poncy cards, even a verbal confirmation will do).  Cheers.

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Lost and Found

They say that anticipation is nine-tenths of the pleasure, but -to be fair- that's just bollocks.  If looking forward to something is actually better than it happening then to be honest you should set your goals and/or expectations just a tad higher.  Me.. I hate waiting.  I'm an impatient person.  I admit it.  I'm the person who phones up when taxi's or takeaways are more than a couple of minute late.  I'm the kid who couldn't wait for Christmas.

So the fact that my Lost download didn't complete until sometime in the wee small hours of the morning really grinds my gears.  Now (because of work commitments) I won't be able to see the finalé until tonight.  Argh!

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Thursday, May 25

Steve Gerrard

Steve Gerrard, Gerrard
Can pass the ball forty yards
He's big and he's fucking hard
Steve Gerrard, Gerrard

Prepare to say: "Have it". Lots.

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Feel quite chatty this morning, so I'll crack on with another post if it's all the same to you.  Read it.  Don't read it.  The choice is yours.  I'm not here to try and tell you what to do, man.  I ain't the boss of you.  I ain't the King of you.  It's your life, after all, and I'm not hear to tell you how to live your life.  After all, I believe the children are the future, teach them well and let them lead the way.  Show them all the beauty they possess inside.

But anyway..
Quite excited about what's downloading onto my 'puter via the wondrous power of broadband at the moment: The last two episodes of series two of Lost.  Series Finalé, baby!  Yeah!  Episodes twenty-three and twenty-four back-to-back.  How many answers are going to be revealed at the end of this series?  Less than anyone fucking expected, I imagine, but Lost really is about the journey more than it is about the destination.  I am hoping for an appearance of something truly odd in these closing episodes, though.  Either an appearance by the black smoke creature or another polar bear (not seen since series once) would be cool as it's been getting very serious lately.

And it's a bank holiday weekend - yay!
Just checked the five day forecast and it's grim I tell thee, so another British Tradition is upheld.  However it means that I may get into the shed  this weekend so that I can organise it.  So far only a few things have been randomly slung in there.  What is needed now is a sustained shed storage and re-organisation period.  Unless you're a man you probably find it difficult to grasp just how important shed organisation is, but trust me when I say it has to be considered a top priority.  The fact that there is evidence of poor organisation in the shed at the moment has kept me awake long into the night this week.  Therefore it must be sorted.  Soon as..

Finally, I fear I am beginning to grow weary of Big Brother already, which is a pity as I am just beginning to appreciate what a great presenter Russell Brand is on "Big Brother's Big Mouth".  It would appear that as soon as one of the spoilt brats that occupy that house don't get their own way, they simply stamp their foot and threaten to leave.  Nikki was doing it last night on the channel 4 show at the mere prospect of not getting her suitcase, and now I believe Dawn has asked to go now as well.  As I said before, great format but a poor contestant selection process.  I think this series could well be the death of Big Brother.

Anyway, keep checking back (or why not enable the RSS feed?) as I may post more drivel later, and that's just too exciting a prospect to miss now, isn't it?  Although the choice is yours.  I'm not here to try and tell you what to do, man, etc, etc..

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Been around the World and I.. I.. I..

So, she's home again.. although for how long this time nobody is quite sure. I'm telling you though, it's the last time she's coming out of there empty handed. The admission price from now on after these post-hospital jaunts will be one newborn baby thanks very much.

It's odd though to think at one point I was fretting about whether the baby's imminent arrival would stop me getting to Cardiff and the F.A. Cup final and now the last weekend of May is imminent and still no little 'un screaming down the house. What gives?

Obviously he/she wants to be born in June. Understandably. All the best people have their birthdays in months beginning with "J".

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Wednesday, May 24


My head is absolutely everywhere except where it's supposed to be today and I'm finding it very difficult to stay focussed on anything longer than

So did you see that Shabaz has left the big brother house?  I've barely had the chance to comment on this show since it returned to Channel 4, things have been way too hectic, but already one of the housemates has left the show.  Blimey.  Well good riddance he was completely barnpot anyway and anyone who has been sponging off benefits for twenty one years shouldn't be glorified on national television anyway.  One of the greatest oversights as a result of how busy I've been is that I have yet to mention my new shed.  You see over the weekend I picked up my shed, and installed it in the garden (the garden now, as far as I'm concerned, is complete) and it's fabby.. I feel like I've joined a proper man's club now I have a shed to store tools and stuff in.  Sheds rock.  Just wish we'd had better weather to put it up with as for about the last week and half the weather has been absolutely awful hasn't it?  Torrential rain every pigging day, still at least it seems to be improving as I write this, so it might be nice for the weekend.  Not that I can plan anything for the weekend, hell I cannot even plan anything for tomorrow at the moment as who knows when this baby will arrive?  Anyway, that's my thoughts downloaded to the blog for now, thanks for listening

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Tuesday, May 23

Worst Job I ever had

Pete and Dud as Monkeys?


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Guest of the NHS (again)

So yesterday's work day got cut drastically short, as about midday my mobile rang and Liz's blood pressure was sky high again (despite the fact that she's on medication). 

So once again it was drop everything and make a rush into the hospital.  There much initial talk of inducing on a labour yesterday, and for a while we were quite excited.  Now, however, it seems that we'll be going back to the waiting game, as they have decided that inducing poses too much of a risk to both mother and baby.  Meanwhile I'm left just going a little bit mad trying to juggle work, hospital visits, dropping Dan off at school (and getting him ready for school) etc, etc.. Boy is this the wrong time to be off the booze.

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Monday, May 22


Well, if you do have to be stuck in on a Saturday night, and you are sober, the best you can hope for is some quality television. Thankfully, Saturday's Eurovision Song Contest certainly provided a good few hours of mirth and merriment. And this was mainly down to the Finnish winners, Lordi, with their winning track: "Hard Rock Hallelujah".

Looking like a cross between Gwar and Land of the Dead, these mad Fins were a breath of fresh air to the campest competition in Europe and thankfully, apart from the tactical voting of the former Soviet Union countries, Europe got the joke. It was a "Twelve points for Finland" frenzy. They just had to win it though, with quality lyrics like "It’s the Arockalypse" and "On the day of Rockoning It’s who dares, wins" how could they fail?? Now hopefully they'll do the decent thing that all good Eurovision winners should do and disappear from whence they came, but for Saturday night they were truly rock gods!

Altogether now:
"All we need is lightning
With power and might
Striking down the prophets of false
As the moon is rising
Give us the sign
Now let us rise up in awe

Rock ’n roll angels bring thyn hard rock hallelujah
Demons and angels all in one have arrived
Rock ’n roll angels bring thyn hard rock hallelujah
In God’s creation supernatural high

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Friday, May 19

George Orwell has a lot to answer for..

So another series of Big Brother kicked off on Channel 4 last night. 
I cannot believe that this is the seventh series of the show.  I feel a certain affinity with the show as the first series started not long after I moved into my own house (blimey back in 2000) and seeing that I was temporarily too poor to do anything else apart from watch telly, I got drawn in.  Therefore, when it re-appears annually I am somewhat reminded that there's another year gone by where I haven't actually got round to decorating the master bedroom.  But anyway..

It did strike me last night, as I watched the latest collection of self-obsessed wannabes walk into the newly designed "inside-out" Big Brother house, that although I like the format of the show, I actually find most of the actual contestants hateful.  You see, rather like politicians, I think wanting to be on Big Brother should automatically exclude you from being considered as a housemate.  Instead Channel 4 and Endemol should be able to draft unsuspecting members of the public, and force them (possibly at gun point) to participate in the show.  It could be like the King's shilling: you'd finish your pint and notice that from the bottom of the glass, the "Big Brother" eye embossed onto a coin staring back at you and that meant you'd been "volunteered" for the show.  Or, failing that, you could be walking home one night when you're suddenly knocked unconscious and the next thing you know you wake up in the BB house.  Game on.  That way we really would get a diverse and representative collection of housemates as opposed to the vacant collection of walking stereotypes Channel 4 seems to pick each year.

But I, like everyone else, will continue to tune into the show as the voyeuristic appeal is hard to beat.  The petty fights, arguments, tension are compelling viewing and there's always the promise of little bit of nudity so we can all get our cheapies!  Who will win?  I don't care.  Will I vote?  Will I fuck.  I am already struggling to recall who won it last year as at least with Big Brother it really is the taking part, and not the winning, that matters.  But please, can we have another way of choosing housemates next year?  Cheers.


Thursday, May 18

The great Custard Cream mystery

Ever noticed that when you get a Custard Cream biscuit, no matter where you purchased that pack of custard creams, no matter who makes them, they always feature the same design on the top.  They always have a diamond on them (with "Custard Cream" written in it). 



Is it the case that in order to manufacture custard creams do you have to agree to put that pattern on the top of the biscuit?  Is that the deal? 

Or is there only one factory in the whole wide world that manufacturers Custard Creams?  If this the case, isn't that a risk?  What happens if the terrorists found out and blew it up?  Could Britain go on without the humble Custard Cream biscuit?  Do they have a back-up, disaster recovery custard cream factory?  It certainly is a quandary, isn't it?


The Phantom Menace

Let me guess..

You took one look at the subject header and rolled your eyes, yeah? 

Well rest easy this isn't a post about trade disputes or taxation or any other subjects that are far too dull to be the starting point of any half-decent Space Opera trilogy.  Neither is this yet another lambasting of the evil beardy troll who, when he adopts human form, goes under the name of George Lucas.  We're onto you George.  We know.  Oh yes, we know.  We know you had the real George Lucas murdered in the early nineties, and you stole his skin so that you could turn our beloved Star Wars trilogy into a twelve hour long, bubble-gum toy commercial and reap all the financial benefits.  We're onto you, you beardy twat.

Okay, calm down, breathe
breathe.. breathe.. (breathe you fucker).

Actually talking of lyrics, was very disappointed that no-one picked up on the lyrics at the end of yesterday's post: "March of Time".  Anyone?  No?  No closet Helloween fans out there in cyberspace?  Boo..  You don't know what you're missing, go listen to the "Keeper of the Seven Keys part I" today, it's a phenomenal album.

No the Phantom Menace here is the odd practice contractions that Liz seems to still be getting (and this going on for a week and a half now).  Every day it's the same, they kind of build up hope that something exciting might happen, and then sod all does, it just all starts all over again.  In a lot of ways, they're very similar to the last three series of the X-Files. 

Anyway, suffice to say they're very annoying, they're really getting her down now and they also managed to spoil my enjoyment of the Champion's League final (although, no, to be fair, Arsenal ruined that for me by adding more weight to the argument that London clubs are just a bit shit at holding onto a lead in a final). 

I guess the really annoying this is that due to all this phantom labour pains going on, I have no indication as to when the phone might go and I might be called into action (well, I say called in to action, but its mainly a supporting role, she'll be doing most of the work to be fair).

So all I can do is keep my mobile charged and keep the car fairly full of petrol, as all this is totally unscripted and with no clear ending in sight (again like the last three series of the X-Files).. However you'll know that when this blog suddenly goes quiet that things are on the move. 

So watch this space as the truth is out there

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Wednesday, May 17

"a Baz post of old."

In response to my post I made earlier today, PJ commented that :"Wow, this is like a Baz post of old. Dude just remember you could be back working with us and suffering abuse from my camera..." [oh, and it's two fucking z's - Ed]

Which kinda got me thinking, you know, I've been doing this blogging thing for quite some time now (there was a blog before the Blogger days you know!). What exactly is a "Baz" post of old?

I didn't know.

So I decided to raid the archives, and find out what kind of post I was writing two years ago.. So let's have a look at Monday 17th May 2004:

"Summer's here and the time is right..
Hasn't it been a fabby weekend? And today was pretty splendid too (well what I saw of it through the office window, anyway). Could Summer possibly be here? I know, I know.. ne'er cast a clout 'til May is out, and all that bollocks, but you have to admit it's looking promising. It's beer garden weather and no mistake. Was absolutely splendid being sat outside Hanrahans this evening, cold pint in one hand, fag in the other and the sun blazing down on us. Quality. I definitely approve of the Summer evenings. If it carry's on like this, I may be forced to go out and buy a barbeque. Anyone up for some steak?"

Silentbazz looks out the window.
The weather is shit.
How times change.
(The fags have gone, though - score on for progress!)

The sticker album is coming along. Trying to enter into the spirit of completing my Euro 2004 sticker album. Rather than rushing out and buying huge amounts of packets of stickers, am trying to limit myself. And I have my first swap! Anyone need Milan Baros?"

No one wants Milan Baros.
Not even Aston fucking Villa want Milan Baros.
Time's changing again.. Although I have had a panini for my lunch (spooky huh). I bought it from baguettes by the way, so the elephants were right!

"And in other news..
Well there ain't a lot to be fair.. life's just bimbling along in quite a pleasant fashion. I realised over the weekend I had nothing really to moan about (or swear about - and anyone who's known me for longer than five minutes -particularly in the work environment - knows that this is indeed some achievement!) and this is quite odd.. not used to life dealing me a fair hand of cards.. just waiting now for some fucker to burst my bubble.. Sadly it can only be a matter of time. Still, make hay whilst the sun shines and all that.. I finally got my own desk in work today, so I have finally have my own space. This means that the Dilbert calendar and the L.F.C mousemat are once again taking pride of place near the ole' PC. Funny how a few things like that can make a place finally feel familiar."

Whereas, two years on here I am (impatiently) awaiting probably the biggest news day of my life. And I can still find things to moan and swear about, on an almost daily basis!!

So time has changed me, I reckon..


On without us all, never stops, yes

On and on and on, flies eternally

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It seems at the moment that life is dragging it's heels..

Although we're not quite in the hard shoulder, life's definitely in the slow lane right now and it's barely getting out of third gear.  It could be that I now notice the passage of time with a little more clarity due to the complete and utter absence of alcohol in my system.  It could be that with over two weeks to go to the World Cup, the FA Cup won and only the minor distraction of the Champions League final to see me through (although I hope Arsenal snot Barca this evening), life without footy seems a bit drab (I hate the off season).  It could be that work continues to become even more pointless, thankless and bureaucratic, filled with too many chiefs and not enough indians (again!! Why does this always happen!?) and an abundance of red tape that prevents any genuine progress from being made.  It could be that, despite being May, the weather continues to be dull, cold, rainy and generally just a bit shit.  Or it could be that everything just feels like it's "on hold" whilst we await the arrival of the baby.


Whatever it is, it is making it increasingly difficult to drag myself out of bed on any given day.  Particularly so if it is a working day.  The biggest excitement of work today, for example, derives from the fact that I've not brought lunch in and will therefore have to choose where I go when dinner time rolls around. Woo, and indeed, hoo!  So will it be a trip to Subway, or McDonalds, or Morrisons or Baguettes?  Decisions, decisions.  It's like a bad episode of Alberto and his Amazing Animal band (you simply must remember that?  It used to be in the middle of Bod?  No?  Shame on you): the elephants think I'm going to baguettes, the lions think I'm off to Subway.

I'm ranting..
I do apologise..
It's frightfully inappropriate of me, and ever so slightly rude. 
Pull yourself together.  Stiff upper lip, and all that.  Worse things happen at sea.  Best foot forward.  Up the promotion ladder lickity split.  Pack all your troubles in your old kit bag and smile, boy, smile (do you remember that episode of "Sapphire and Steel" where they were trapped in a railway station and someone kept on whistling that?  Was well spooky).

I'm going now.. even I cannot follow that.. Err.. laters, yeah?

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Tuesday, May 16

The Best Thing On Channel 4

Now I could argue that "Lost" is the best thing on Channel 4, but impatience drove me to download the latest series of the show from that States after the cliff-hanger at the end of series one. So I don't watch Channel 4 for "Lost"..

So, in my humble opinion, the best show on Channel 4 has to be "My Name Is Earl".

Now I was always going to watch this show, mainly because I have been a fan of Jason Lee's since he popped up in Kevin Smith's "Mallrats" as Brodie Bruce. But even I didn't anticipate how funny this show would be. For those who've not seen it, a former low-life criminal finally decides (after getting hit by a car immediately after winning the lottery) that bad things happen to him because he's been a bad person. It's all karma. So he decides to make a list of all the bad things he's ever done and put them right "to be a better person".
It's a genius show, full of clever and slapstick humour and I cannot believe that it's not a bigger show over here (but no-one seems to be talking about it).

Lee plays White Trash just a little bit too well in my opinion and the moustache he sports as Earl is almost a character in it's own right. In short, if you've not seen it, watch this show. It's on Friday night around 10pm and it's brilliant. You won't regret it. Enjoy.

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Monday, May 15

There's calm after the storm too..

It's been a tumultuous couple of weeks really..

But it's a tad calmer now..
I'm glad that life has quietened down a bit now.  I know this is only a brief respite, but I'm enjoying it whilst it lasts as this past weekend finally drained the last bit of emotional energy from my carcass as I saw possibly one of the most exciting matches (although not for all the right reasons) I've ever been lucky enough to attend.  Going two nil down (to the sloppiest of goals), clawing two back, then conceding another before Gerrard's wonder-strike in the dying seconds.  And then.. penalties! Argh!  Three fantastic saves from Reina (who just about made up for his shocking performance during normal time) and Stevie G lifting the cup. 


If there was an I-Spy book of human emotions, I would have ticked every single box. 

And, of course, this all came off the back of the relief of being able to go to Cardiff in the first place after the previous weekend spent in hospital wondering if little 'un was about to make an appearance (and I was still half-expecting a text message five minutes into the first half saying: "Help! I'm in labour".  Thankfully it never materialised).

So after two weeks of drama it was extremely nice to spend a very quiet day at home doing bugger all yesterday.  I'm sure it's what Sunday was made for!

But what's going on with this weather? 
I thought we heading into the second half of May (with June only a couple of weeks round the corner) but somehow it looks outside like we're heading back to March.  I shall be recommending my unborn son or daughter to hang on in there for a bit and wait for some sunshine.  After all, nobody wants to be born on a drizzly day, do they?

Cannot go without applauding Doctor Who once again, a truly magnificent episode, I think I like the return of the Cybermen even more than I liked the return of the Daleks.  Cannot wait for part two - superb viewing.

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Sunday, May 14

Images from Cardiff

Not really got time to go into a long post today, but just thought I'd share some of the images I took (not best quality -tis only a mobile phone camera after all) from our trip to Cardiff yesterday to watch Liverpool FC win the F.A. Cup.
(Click to Enlarge)

This was the view walking into Cardiff's Millenium Stadium.

And this was Cardiff City Centre - A sea of red.

The view of the pitch from our seats was excellent and the FA put on a show

..and the fans put on a great show too..

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Gerrard lifts the cup (after extra time and penalties) and we went mental!!

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And the boys paraded the cup round the ground afterwards

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Friday, May 12

CRT Monitors Suck

If there are typo's (either spelling or grammatical errors) in this post then I apologise up front, as I am doing this post blind.  Have my eyeballs fallen out? Have I stuck pencils in my eyes?  Has everything I was told about the dangers of succumbing to the wily charms of Madam Palm and her five sisters come true? 


It's just when the sun comes out, my crappy CRT monitor screen becomes so reflective that all it depicts is a horrible orange haze which is no good to man or beast.  This an hayfever are two reasons summer sucks (and blows).

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Ring of Fire


Less than 24 hours to go until we begin on our mammoth trek to the Millennium Stadium for what should be a fantastic afternoon of football at the FA Cup Final.

One thing that will be cheering us as we make our way down the M6 and the M4 tomorrow, is the club's latest FA Cup song, Ring of Fire as performed by the "Boot Room All-Stars" - Tim Speed and Apollo 440 and featuring the vocals of Echo and the Bunnymen frontman Ian McCulloch (as well as fans recorded at the FA Cup Semi Final and at the last home game of the season - seeing as I was at both matches I look forward to receiving my royalty cheque in due time!!). Nice to see the tradition of an FA Cup song being continued, and whilst this is no Anfield Rap, it's a good tune (anyone who's been at an away match and sung this knows what a rallying call it is). You can download the song (and it's only 99p - bargain!!) from the official website. Go get it!

Although you were going to download it anyway, it's worth pointing out that all proceeds from the single will go to charity, the Marina Dalglish appeal. So you can feel all warm inside about doing a good thing too.

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Thursday, May 11

A death in the family

It is with a heavy heart that I bring you sad news today, for I have just been texted the shocking announcement that there has a been a death in the family.  It would appear that sometime after nine o'clock this morning it was discovered that Vera The Goldfish had died overnight. 

Vera had lived a full life, swimming under the little bridge and around the castle in her aquatic abode, and had been considered to had a "good innings".  However, Vera's life was not without scandal, two of her former "bowlmates" (Jack, and Jack Mark II) had died whilst cohabiting with Vera, and although there was never enough evidence to bring any charges against Vera there were always strong suspicions that she was involved in the deaths.

Vera will be most missed by Phoebe the Cat, who considered Vera to be 24 hour "Cat TV" and would often sit transfixed watching Vera do steady laps of her bowl.

So, ladies and gentlemen, a minutes silence if you please for Vera The Goldfish...


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Got FIFA 06 for the PSP last night and it is fucking excellent.

Beyond the fact that it's just a great footy game that allows me to play an entire premiership season (as opposed to just cup competitions as was offered by World Tour Soccer), and ignoring the fact that the official Premier League licence means I can play at grounds like Anfield, it's also got an online multiplayer option.

I fired this up last night without much optimism (these things rarely just work in my experience), and it zipped me straight into the online gaming room, and I had a match on my hands in about two minutes flat. Won one (against Arsenal) and lost one (against Barcalona.. spooky that eh? Is that significant ahead of next week's Champions League final..? Probably not!)

So very happy with my purchase indeed (especially as it was a bargain off eBay - my Paypal fund was a wee bit dented, I'm afraid).. now I'm off to take my FIFA dominance online!!

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Wednesday, May 10

We're all going to Cardiff! We're all going to Cardiff! Na naa na h nah! (Hey) Na naa nah nah!

This morning saw us returning to the hospital, despite the fact that we'd only (just) managed to escape the place late on Monday evening.  It was an appointment with the consultant today though (the grand fromagé of the antenatal clinic).  Blood samples were taken, blood pressure was measured and we even went for another ultra-sound scan (which was way cool as, obviously, we'd not seen the baby since 20 weeks).

The upshot of all this checking and testing is that it looks like it will be at least a week (and most likely two weeks) before K comes kicking and screaming into the World (bad news for some who had early dates on the "Birth Date Sweepstake" at work) and it will be safe for me to head off to Cardiff for the F.A. Cup final!! 


So seven of us are piling into a people carrier early doors Saturday morning, to make tracks to the Millennium Stadium.  What the game will bring, who knows?  Should be a cracker though.  As long as we outsing the cock-er-neys ("We Larve It") and generally have a party for a day it will be brilliant.  It also will be nice to have 24 hours where it isn't the pregnancy that's at the forefront of my mind constantly.  A bit of respite before the chaos!

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Tuesday, May 9

Temporary Service Disruption

Silentbazz would like to apologise for the disruption to normal services that occurred over the weekend.  The usual foul language, rants, bad puns, swearing and links to pointless websites will resume shortly.  In the meantime, we apologise if recent posts have, in any way, seemed a little serious.  Here at the silentbazz blog we strive for trivial, pointless and non-consequential posts and promise to deliver them more consistently in the future.

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Are you excited..?

1 calendar month until the World Cup.
1 calendar month and one day until the first England Match (10th June).
1 calendar month and twelve days until England fly home after failing to qualify for the second round due to poor squad selection.

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Home.. Home Again

Well she's back, thankfully.. good to have her home.
There are still worries though, although the drugs are controlling the blood pressure, we now have worries about Pre-eclampsia as Uric Acid levels are high. So it's al a bit scary and we're not out of the woods yet..

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Monday, May 8


No I'm not going to be discussing seepage or puss, not even weeping sores, so the squeamish amongst you need not turn and run away from your monitor...

It does appear, however, that Liz will be allowed out of hospital today (for two weeks at least) as the blood pressure tablets seem to be doing their job -at last!  So I can finally breathe a sigh of relief..  Funny thing is, we'll be back at the hospital on Wednesday anyway to see the consultant.

I guess Wednesday's visit will let me know whether I can risk a jaunt to Cardiff at the weekend.  Although it's not an overnight stay in Wales' capital city, it will be a long day and some considerable miles between me and home.  So do I take the risk?  It's a dilemma and a half, I can tell you.. I mean it's the FA Cup final ffs!

What to do.. what to do..

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Sunday, May 7

Under Pressure..

"Pressure pushing down on me
Pressing down on you no man ask for"

..as sung by David Bowie and Queen.

But it's blood pressure that is at the forefront of my mind at the moment, not "people on streets Dee da dee da dee da dee da", as it continues to be the thing keeping Liz in hospital.

(but did you see what I did there?)

Fortunately they started giving her medication this morning to try and stabilise the readings they were getting. Apparently its the variance of the figures that is concerning them.. (one minute it's a wee bit high and then the next it's blahdy-hell!). If they can stabilise the BP then there's a chance (key word here: chance) that she may be allowed home tomorrow.

Bloody hope so.. it's too quiet here. The novelty of having the remote control to myself has now worn off and instead I'm just left in this horribly empty feeling house.

Even the cats have abandoned me. They keep looking at me suspiciously, like I've committed murder and buried the body in a field somewhere, and no matter how many times that I explain Liz is actually in hospital, they still have this "yeah right" look about them. Bastard turncoat felines. Where's the trust?

The doctors have also said they don't want this baby delivered in the next two weeks (hell, I've got F.A. Cup final tickets, I don't want it coming quite yet!), so they're going to do everything to keep the B.P. low. However it is unlikely Liz will go full term.. so expect some developments on this front in the third week in May?

Til then, maybe Freddy Mercury said it best when he said:
"Um boom ba bay
Um boom ba bay
Um Um boom ba bay bay"

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Saturday, May 6

The waiting game..

So.. she's still in hospital..

No baby yet.. Well it's there, obviously, but it's still on the inside, and the parole hearing has been rescheduled for the foreseeable future.

There's still the nastily high blood pressure and the practice contractions.

So I'm left at home wondering, "I wonder if the baby will turn up this weekend? Or maybe this week?".

Tis quiet here.. even the cats are making less noise than usual I'm sure.

Still at least Doctor Who was pure class. Again.

Tick, tock, tick, tock - how fitting.. the passage of time is very much in my thoughts at the moment.

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Friday, May 5

Stuck for time?

You know how it is, you want to play some cool games on the interweb, but you have limited time.. the answer? Four Second Fury! Loads of mini-games, each of which last for exactly four seconds. How many can you complete? Warning: Strangely addictive

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George Lucas is a Cunt

I apologise for the strong language.
But for years (since 1997 in fact) I've tolerated the special editions of Star Wars, The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi as we were told that they were the only versions of these flicks that the beardy bastard Lucas was going to let us see.

Hell, I even bought the original Star Wars trilogy on DVD knowing that having Hayden Christensen pop up at the end of Return of the Jedi (along with all the other unneccesary changes) would depress the fuck out of me, as it was further evidence that Lucas never knew when to stop tinkering, and he was modifying the trilogy I grew up loving into as much of an elongated toy advert as the new trilogy...

But, now he has my money for the goddawful "Special" Editions - he pulls this masterstroke: The Original Versions of Star Wars on DVD.

What a complete bastard.

Well, of course I'm going to buy 'em, but still..

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False alarm.. Or false start!?

I don't care who you are, I don't care how brave you think you might be.. There's just something about waking up in the early morning, opening your eyes and having the first words you hear be: "I think I've been having contractions for the past two and a half hours" that makes the World fall out of your arse for a second.

Even more so when that phrase is heard four and a half weeks early.

So I clenched and I gazed across at Liz.

I thought: "She's not winding me up here. Arse."

I knew from our one and only antenatal class (so far) that the fact that she could actually tell me quite calmly that she thought she was having contractions (as opposed to screaming it whilst simultaneously pulling my scrotum over my head) meant we had a bit of time. So I suggested calling the hospital whilst I had a shower, as no matter whether we were headed to the hospital or I was heading to work, there was no way I was going anywhere without a shower.

Whilst in the shower I'd convinced myself that these were at worst the very early stages of labour (which could mean hours before we got near a delivery suite anyway) or, and most likely, practice contractions.. and I began looking forward to the yummy breakfast I had ordered at work..

Imagine my surprise when I got out of the shower, and I found out that the hospital had told us to go in.

I'm not ready for this, thought I, this is at least a month too early.

It turns out that it's a good job we did.. Liz's blood pressure was sky high when we got there (for sky high read dangerously high). Over the day it has fallen, but some anomalies in her blood tests have meant she's been kept in.

So we are not quite at DEFCON 5 yet.

But, fuck me, we were close

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Thursday, May 4

You are cordially invited..

So I have been reliably informed that wedding invitations are being posted out today, which I find all rather surreal as the wedding seems like such a long way away at the moment.  The official reason for this is that we need to give numbers to Ruthin Castle sometime in July, but I guess it also not a bad idea to get the invites out before the Premier League fixture list is announced for the 2006/2007 season!!

It's odd sending out invitations though, I cannot think of the last time I actually sent out an invitation for anything, (apart from those pointless outlook meeting invitations at work which I am forced to send out under duress), but I have a suspicion that it may have been my eight birthday party and the only thing cordial about that was the squash served after playing "pass the parcel" - ha! ha!

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Happy Star Wars Day, all!

May the 4th be with you!


Feels like Christmas!

New episode of Lost went out last night..

Now before any knuckle-dragging luddites start scoffing: "I think you'll find channel four broadcast the episodes on Tuesday, actually", I should point out that I mean a new episode was on abc last night (Series 2, Episode 20 to be precise!) and is now.. ahem.. "available" on the interweb..

It's been two weeks since we got a new episode and there was a bit of a revelation at the end of episode 19 so am keen to get home and get it watched..

..but only four episodes to go!

..I don't think it's too much of a spoiler to say: "I don't think they're gonna get off the island in series 2"


Wednesday, May 3

Cup Final Tickets.



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This I like

Ever wanted to know the name of that tune that's been running through your head all day..? Well, now you can find out the name of any song, just by tapping on your Spacebar!!

If you go to Songtapper.com, then all you have to do is tap out the melody of any song using just your spacebar! and the magical web page will correctly guess the name of the tune you were tapping in.

But how does it work!??

I don't know... but it does!!


And now, the end is near

So congratulations to Blackburn on clinching the final UEFA cup spot last night, a great win against the newly-crowned Premiership champions (proving once again that they are beatable). 

But hearing this kind of news is kind of depressing in a way, because as the European and relegation positions become confirmed (yeah, and sorry to the Brummies and Baggies -bad luck and all that), you know you're heading towards the end of the season.  I mean there's only one game left (for most clubs) and for us it's a fecking away game too (at Portsmouth no less) so effectively the season finished last week.  And there's something quite sad about removing that last voucher out of your season ticket book, and saying goodbye to the people you sit next to every other week for nine months.  And this is all despite the fact that there's the pleasant distraction of the World Cup throughout the Summer, and despite the fact that the new season will be kicking off in mid-August.  It really isn't good to realise that another season is over..

There's been highs (the win in the FA Cup Semi-Final against Chavski and the return of God) and lows (Losing a European game at Anfield and going out of the Champion's League.  Nuff said) but its been a pretty good nine months.  And, I guess there's a trip to Cardiff (hopefully) to allow that season to drag on for one more week..

I should be finding out today whether that Cardiff trip is on or not, as my mate is taking no chances and has travelled early doors to the ticket office with all of our fan cards looking to guarantee our seats at the final.  Am very excited at the prospect, so am keeping everything crossed

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Tuesday, May 2

It's gonna be a dry month..

This is not, I repeat not, a prediction about the weather..
So before you rush out to grab your designer sunglasses, and your sun block stop and finish the entire posting eh?

No it's just that I've stopped drinking this month..
Okay, let's be a bit more specific (there are some right pedantic bastards out there, after all).  Seeing as it's well documented that you'll die of dehydration if you drink nothing at all (after about three days, I believe), I should make it clear that I have not ceased drinking altogether, I have merely ceased drinking alcohol.  I could claim this was me being concerned about my health and the long-term affects on my liver, but I'd be lying (and would I lie to you, gentle reader?)

I've quit as, as many of you regular readers will be aware, we're now on DEFCON 4 when it comes to the whole pregnancy thing.  Under 5 weeks to go, who'd have believed it?  So it is entirely possible that I could be called on, at any time of day or night, to drive to the delivery suite in a timely fashion. 

The downside of this sudden and uncharacteristic responsible side emerging in my character is that I may have to go to the F.A. Cup final and remain completely sober -this is, of course provided we get tickets tomorrow.  Anyone who points out that it's not exactly responsible shlopping off to Cardiff three weeks before the due date obviously knows nothing about football (and doesn't want to go on the "stand by" list for my ticket should I not get to use it).

So a month (well potentially five weeks) with no beer, no wine, no brandy (Gadzooks!), no whisky, nothing.. nada.. not even a cheeky alco-pop when no-one's looking.

The baby's not gonna be the only one "hitting the bottle" when it eventually makes an appearance at the beginning of June, I tell thee!!

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