Posted by Richard on February 18th, 2010
Football is probably my least favourite sport in the world (pole vault not withstanding). The game itself isn’t why I hate it though, although it is for the most part desperately boring for me to watch. What I hate is the culture surrounding football. I think to best demonstrate this, I will split the hate up into three distinct sections.
1. Premiership Football Players
I think what irks me most about these people is that they are paid millions each year but an 11 man squad could barely rustle up as many GCSEs between them. They are the sort of people who dicked around at school but are still role models for children. What kind of message is that sending to kids? I would also like to mention at this stage the fact that just about all premiership footballers are pussies. Someone comes within a foot of messing up their hair and they dive to the floor quicker than a hero running away from an explosion behind him. These people should get a real fucking job!
2. The Lad Culture of the Fans
Football fans as a whole I tend to find to be laddish, somertimes bordering or even crossing the border of loutishness. They are loud, lager swilling and for the most part just bad company. I also find homophobia something quite prevalent amongst your chanting football supporter. I’ve never liked the lad culture much. There was a lot of it in my halls last year. And although there wasnt anyone in my block who i would consider as a bad person, if you weren’t one of the lads then you missed out on a lot of the social life.
3. The World Cup/European Cup
If England wins any game in either or the above tournaments, the behaviour of people on the streets and in pubs is quite unlike any other time. I hate the World Cup because it gives people an excuse to act like a cunt for the entire night after the game if England win. I laughed very hard after England didn’t qualify for the European cup in 2008. I was happy that we escaped the acceptable face of pandemonium on the streets. I don’t even support England when they play in these tournaments. I will support whoever I draw out of a sweepstake.
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Posted by Martin Thomas on February 12th, 2010
Now I love my dog, he’s pretty good. Except when he pisses or shits in the house, but you know. And I generally enjoy walking him, but there are a few things that sour the experience.
Firstly, picking your dog’s shit up is never a pleasant experience, but it is a necessity. Indeed, it pisses me off when I see people ignoring it, cos then they leave their dog’s squelchy shit on the pavement for other people to step in. But the fact remains that it’s not nice. But my main problem with it is the fact that it just confirms the true pecking order in terms of power. Sure, I decide when he goes for walks, where we go, when he eats and all that, but as much as I kid myself that I’m the one in charge, only one of us chases after the other cleaning up his shit, and it ain’t him.
Secondly, I like to listen to my iPod when I’m out walking the dog. You know, the dog is busy doing his own thing wandering around in the bushes and stuff (like a hairier Boy George) so I just stroll along listening to some bangin’ tunes. So what I don’t want is every fucker and their dog (literally) coming up to me and making conversation. Call me anti-social, but if I take my dog to the park I like to let him have a wander about while I just listen to some Beach Boys or summat. But then you walk past a mother and young child and the kid’s like “can I stroke your dog?” and I’m like “yeah sure” but inside I’m all “I hope he poos on your shoe”. But fine, they’re kids, they’re curious, I can deal with that. But then there’s the other type of dog walker – the auld granny. Now these ones don’t just stop to pet your dog and then toddle off on their merry way. No siree, they stop, pet your dog, and then tell you their dog’s bloody life story. Yes my dog is a boy. No I am not interested in what gender yours is. Yes he is a Yorkshire terrier. No I am not interested in what breed yours is. Yes he is friendly. No I don’t want him trying to sniff your dog’s fanny (because he will!). Honestly lady, it’s fascinating that you’ve had your dog since 1996, and it’s been really interesting listening to every event that has happened up until 2010, but I must dash because I just remembered I need to go and put my head in a vice.
What I need is one of these bad boys:
Tags: dogs, park, people, shit
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Posted by Brendan Clarke on February 10th, 2010
Today I’ll be dragging you into the abhorrent world of Katie Price, where the sanctity of marriage is about as dead as John Leslie’s career and where airbags are definitely not needed in a high speed car crash.
So what is it exactly that I hate about Katie Price? Well, there are a plethora of reasons. So let me erratically present to you just a few of them.
For starters, her body contains more plastic than can be found in Heather Mills’ leg; for some reason she thought it would be a good idea to destroy her once attractive body by enlarging her breasts to near comical proportions.
Her face has also stood the tests of time and withered away under the pressures and stresses of being the dullest woman to come from Britain. Her motionless wooden face seems to be permanently stuck on to the ‘mind numbingly featureless’ setting. We shouldn’t judge, it’s a genuine problem, one shared by Gary Lineker.
To be fair, looks aren’t everything and I’m not that shallow; I’m not exactly Brad Pitt. The reason I felt I should mention it was because she is the way she is because she chose to be, through surgery.
If you are naturally a relatively good looking person, why would you let a scalpel near your face? It’s like hiring Philippe Starck to design your house and then demolishing the house afterwards.
Her voice is much worse though. Sometimes you may glance at her and for a split second you think that perhaps she is a human life form after all, but then she opens her mouth; The height of monotonous emotionless noise that could ever protrude from an animal pollutes the air. Even if she were giving one of the most inspirational speeches ever written, it would still sound stale and mundane.
Let’s not forget about the meaningless marriages, the sleazy sex, the grubby nude pictures and her being thicker than tar. Yet, at the end of it all, some women think she is a role model. If she is a role model, then you may as well let Ted Bundy be your sons idol; now, get me a shovel.
Tags: Jordan, Katie Price
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Posted by Richard on February 9th, 2010
And in the spirit of which, I have decided to do my own alphabet of hate.
A – Art, Modern
Some of the crap that passes for art these days beggars belief. A crack in the floor, an unmade bed, a bag of rubbish that was cleaned up as a publicity stunt. I can’t stand all this stuff that is suppose to represent deep divisions in society and so on. Does it fairy cakes. it represents a shortage in the artist’s bank account is what it represents. I wouldnt mind so much if they were simply there to be visually pleasing, but most pieces aren’t. At all.
B- Buses
I didn’t mind the buses in London so much. But here in Bristol they are an absolute nightmare. They are more expensive than splitting a cab between 4 people, they are old, smelly and slow. most of them here don’t even run on a Sunday. Fuck buses!
C- Cucumber
Cucumber is one of the most disgusting foodstuffs known to man. It is not suitable for human consumption. That is all I have to say on the matter
D- Dying
I’m shit scared of death. The fact that I have no concept of somehow existing one minute and not the next is one of the most terrifying things I can possibly envisage. Up yours Death, you havent beaten me any of the days so far, I intend to keep this record up.
E- East London
You go just a few miles south of my home town, and you hit East London. my word what a hole. You can feel yourself getting stupider the longer you speak to the locals there. I urge all of you never to venture to that part of London. not without full body armour anyway.
F- Felching
No. Just no.
G- Gardening
I have never seen the appeal of gardening. Down on your hands and knees, getting all sweaty and hurting afterwards. When I want that I’ll go pull at a gay bar. When I buy a house, If it has a garden I will have it concreted over.
H- Health Magazines
Specifically I speak of Men’s Health magazines here, which are full of ways you are disgusting and ugly and fat, and how you must starve yourself and work out an exercise routine for the gym if you are ever to be happy. I hope someone drops a 16 tonne slab of lard on top of the people who make these things
I- Influenza
The flu is one of the most annoying things in the world. It’s really common so you get no sympathy when it happens, yet its enough to mean you can barely move out of bed all day. Now normally this wouldn’t be a bad thing, but god damnit i want to be out in the evenings.
J- Jocks
I apologise for the American stereotype but they exist here in England as well. My halls last year and the gym I attend are full of them. They aren’t horrible people in themselves, but with them, you are either one of the lads or you aren’t. And if like me you aren’t, then you are rather excluded from their social circle.
K- Knives, Blunt
My god blunt knives get on my nerves. Particularly since we haven’t got a knife sharpener here. They are less useful and more dangerous than sharp knives. I must get myself a sharpener
L- Lateness
I have already said my piece here. but I feel it needs saying again. Don’t be late for stuff
M- Merry Go Rounds
There is nothing merry about these most dull fairground rides. I’d rather go on a ride that wasn’t safe than on something that boring
N- Norris, Chuck
Seriously guys, this fad is over. Let it die. I would rather be rickrolled again than have to listen to more chuck norris facts.
O- Oreos
I don’t actually hate them. But they don’t live up to their hype. They are pretty plain biscuits. I’d prefer a dark chocolate digestive myself
P- Pidgey
Wild Pidgey appeared! The three most annoying words any pokemon player can read. Thos guys are fucking everywhere and give you no experience.
Q- Questions
I’m not talking about reasonable questions here like “how does this experiment work then?” or “What is that you’ve got strapped underneath your shirt?” I mean questions you have to double take after they are asked. Things like the following conversation:
“Do you love me?” “Yes” “Why?” “Well because I….erm….uhhh”
R- Racing, Formula 1
I’m sick of people going on about how good F1 is. It’s even more boring to watch on TV than golf. The race is a test of the car more than it is a test of the driver. Stop telling me how good it is. You are wrong.
S- Stylish
I have no idea to this day what this even means. All I know is that I am one of the least stylish people of the planet. Designer labels are ridiculous and buying clothes just cause they are stylish is as stupid as buying a dishwasher on the basis of how shiny it looks rather than how well it washes dishes.
T- Tuna, Canned
Canned Tuna is one of the biggest disgraces to food ever accomplished. Tuna steak is absolutely delicious, and some how they manage to turn the same fish into a foul smelling paste.
U- Ulcers
I get loads of ulcers. They are painful, inconvenient and just plain ugly. God was having a laugh the day he created those.
V- VK and other alcopops
If you think you are big enough to drink alcohol then at least taste it when you drink it. Women aren’t excused exactly but I am prepared to forgive them, but blokes. Come on guys, man the fuck up and start drinking ale
W- Wasps
Wasps are bastards. If they get even a bit annoyed they’ll sting you and will continually try and eat your food and drink your drink during the summer. Little cunts
X- Xylophone players
Seriously, get a real job. The xylophone is just an instrument that was invented so kids could have something to learn when learning the alphabet
Y- Yaughts
Sailing in any form is really boring. i have been 2 or three times and each time is was just me talking to the other people in the boat whilst getting sunburnt. Put a sodding engine on it.
Z- Zombies
I hate those guys. always trying to eat your brains.
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Posted by Kelly on February 8th, 2010
While recently browsing though a copy of Toni and Guy Magazine (I swear, I didn’t buy it – it was just laying around the house) I couldn’t help but notice that…there’s no way of saying this nicely. A lot of the models look a little…zombiefied.
Now, I’m not claiming to be a fashion expert. On the contrary, I know nothing about what is and isn’t fashionable. If you saw the way I dress you would undoubtedly agree with me. But these girls were outright scary. Emaciated is apparently very “in” right now. As is “mannish.” Oh, no, forgive me, “androgynous.” It adds mystery. It’s “diverse.” It’s bloody odd is what it is. Correct me if I’m wrong but these people set trends. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to aim towards looking like a man. I have curves, for one thing. The boobs are a slight problem. They’re very much a girl thing, aren’t they, really? And even if I drank heavily every night for a month, I don’t think I could manage to look sufficiently Dawn of the Dead to be en vogue.
And the clothes! Oh deary deary me. Frightening isn’t even the word. It looks like bondage gear. Which is fine, don’t get me wrong. Each to their own and all that. What these people choose to get up to in the bedroom is perfectly ok with me. But what were these fashion esters thinking when they thought that duck tape makes acceptable day wear? It doesn’t. Just… no. I appreciate that they obviously went to great lengths to ensure all nipples were covered, but still. And the makeup! They choose really manly-looking models, and then coat them in layers of what I can only assume is emulsion…in an attempt to make them look feminine? What?!
Ah, but it’s conceptual. Right. Making a bunch of super-skinny-mini women who may or may not actually be blokes in frocks pretend to be tigers, or warriors, or, I dunno, a sardine. Why? Is it art? Does it make some kind of statement about our current, socio-political climate? Erm… I’m going to go with “no.”
As I have said, I am a girl. And I am most categorically NOT one of the skinny-minis of this world. The way I look in photos is very similar to the way I look in real life. I don’t put my makeup on with a shotgun or a trowel, nor do I prance around in my underwear (in front of people). But some of these women genuinely scare me. They wear so much makeup…it’s like a creepy plastic face over the top of their actual face. They look nothing like their pictures. Women everywhere are presented with these images of beauty that don’t even exist.
So, please. Burn your fashion magazines. Forget that yellow is in this year, because someone, somewhere, who I can guarantee was probably wearing sunglasses far too big for their head at the time decided it was “the look to have.” If anyone mentions the words “diet” “bikini-body” or “drop a dress-size” run. Run like your arse is on fire. Find yourself some cake, a comfy jumper and ignore what the scary ladies are wearing.
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Posted by Martin Thomas on February 8th, 2010
No, not the film. The notion of fame and celebrity. It was while making my regular perusal through Heat Magazine that I realised that I’m fed up of “celebrity” and people being famous for either shagging someone famous or just being seen out and about. Long gone are the days when one had to accomplish something to become famous! I write for the greatest blog about moaning about stuff that there is, and am I famous? No. Nobody even knows who I am in my own home (that’s another blog entirely). Musicians, fine. Actors, fine. They provide an entertainment at least. But glamour models, or the worst of the worst: “socialites” (Dictionary definition: “someone what is famous for going to parties and nowt else”). What is the point of these people? There are some great examples of people who should just really retire from the public eye and go away. Go away now.
Katie Price – So I see she has married again (this article was written on February 8th, if you’re reading this on February 11th or later they’ve probably already divorced by now). I do not understand the media’s utter obsession with this woman at all. And I use the term ‘woman’ loosely, she’s an awful creature. For a start, she’s repulsive. Yeah she’s got big tits but once you’d motorboated them a few times you’d soon get pretty bored of them. Her face is haggard and she is just an absolutely vile person. And why on earth has she written, like, FOUR autobiographies? Because three wasn’t enough? I can’t imagine how she can fill four books about her life, when all she’s done is get her tits out, have high profile relationships, and make loads of reality shows following her around as she goes about her “business”. On the one hand, I admire her for making squillions of pounds and having the nation lap her up for so very little. On the other hand, I wish she’d fuck off and disappear. Forever.
Paris Hilton – Famous for having a rich dad and for getting porked and giving terrible head in an internet bongo movie. To be fair to her she did try and expand her talents by launching an (appalling) acting career and an (appalling) singing career. These two failings perhaps suggest that I’m unreasonable in my request that these people actually try and have some talent. If “House Of Wax” or whatever song it was she did are the best they can do, perhaps they should stick to getting scuttled on t’internet.
Jedward – Howay now, hasn’t the joke gone on long enough? I hate X Factor with a passion (see the blog archives) but like everyone else couldn’t avoid hearing about these two cheeky scamps/dribbling retards (delete as applicable) as their ugly mugs were plastered all over the papers. As I understand it, they’re shit but they’re sort of tongue in cheek and that. Fine, okay. I like that they got far in X Factor, since that show is so far up it’s own arse that it could do with a pisstake act winning it. But X Factor finished months ago. Do we really need two little Irish fellas who look like they stuck their fingers in an electrical socket releasing a cover of Ice Ice Baby? Having said that, it’s probably an improvement on the usual shite that fills the charts, which is the most sad thing.
I long for the day when captains of industry and people with real accomplishments such as Stephen Hawking, Professor Robert Winston and Vince McMahon are splashed all over the pages of gossip magazines, but I suspect I’ll be holding my breath for a long time. And if I hold my breath for long enough, I’ll collapse and suffer brain damage and be able to match these thickets in the intelligence stakes.
Tags: celebrity, fame, famous, Katie Price, Media
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Posted by Kelly on February 8th, 2010
Actually, that is sort of a lie. I quite like trains. Steamy ones especially. There’s nothing nicer than sticking your head out the window of a Mark 1 carriage, being pulled along by a shiny steam engine with beautiful scenery slipping into the distance, veiled in a cloud of steam. It’s the stuff of sweet nostalgia. And yes, I do have to admit a bit of a passion for the London Underground (when it works). So much so that I have a big poster of the map on my bedroom wall (I’m not a trainspotter, fuck off!).
Ah, but modern transport. Moderny, moderny transport. How far from perfection hast thou slipped? And in this case, my particular gripe lies with First oh-so-bloody-Great Western. As of my last train journey with them, I have come to loathe, detest and despise them with every bitter fibre of my some-what chubby being (and that’s a LOT of fibre). “But Kelly, why this seemingly irrational hatred?” I hear you ask, “It’s so unlike you!” *cough*
I shall tell you. I get to Paddington with about ten minutes to spare before my train is scheduled to depart. All well and good. But what is this?! They’ve cancelled all the trains between Paddington and Bristol? So how, prey-tell, am I supposed to get back home to Bath, my boyfriend and my guinea pigs? Ah, never fear, my dear! First Great Western has all the answers! We’ll just pop you all on the train heading to Swansea, and add some extra stops along the way!
…It was RAMMED. I shit you not, it was like being on the tube in rush hour, except it cost me thirty-two quid and I was trapped on there for two hours. A woman who, although perfectly nice, seemed determined to be freakishly cheerful and kept up a really loud, detailed conversation with her infant child the whole time (despite herself pointing out that the child didn’t understand a word) was standing right next to me. I’m not really a people person at the best of times, I admit it. When irritated, I can be a total cow. So being forced to stand toe-to-toe with a bunch of strangers, unable to move so much as my elbows á la cattle on the way to the abattoir did nothing to improve my view of humanity. And then, joy of infinite, heavenly joys: we make an unscheduled stop at Reading and pick up even more people. At which point I nearly punched a Brummie woman who seemed hell-bent on making the situation even more unpleasant.
What is this shit?! Much as I adore the Tube in London, its history, the part it’s played in society…the fact that I’m like a neurotic squirrel and having everything nicely organised on the map is pleasing to my eyes, it too, causes me no end of grief. It is a sad, sad fact of life that it is often the things you love that torment you the most. But it is. The Victoria and Hammersmith & City Lines especially. For these are the lines I need to get home…so naturally, they are the ones that breakdown the most. And the cost of it keeps going up and up.
So, my question is this: Londoners pay more for their public transport than any other city in Europe. So why is it so naff? Why is it always late? Why do so many services get cancelled or suspended? Why why why why why? I long for yester-year, when things were much prettier and they actually worked. I yearn for the days of old, when travel was simple. Vive le Steam!
Tags: Crowding, London Underground, Trains, Transport, transport trains London Underground Crowding
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Posted by Richard on February 7th, 2010
My word I hate lateness. All lateness in any form. I would rather be an hour early for something than 5 minutes late. Why? Because lateness without a very valid reason (being hit by a car, having to lose the man tailing you etc) is extremely rude. I strive to be on time for everything I go to and if something happens such as exceptionally bad traffic I always phone ahead to tell them I might be late, even if it turns out I’m not in the end. I do have friends who not only are very late for everything, don’t even have the common courtesy to phone me and tell me. If a person is late, it always seems far later to me as well because I always arrive early. Even being fashionably late to a party is unappealing to me. If a party starts at 8pm I shall be fashionably late by arriving at 8:01pm.
Unfortunately, most University students timekeeping abilities are far from acceptable, and so many is the time when I turn up for an organised event at the start time, and end up waiting a good 15 minutes before even the person who organised it turns up. My most major worry is that I will evenutally get so fed up of this that I will start turning up late for things regularly as well. If my time keeping becomes poor enough to make me as bad some of these people, I give the other writers on this site permission to beat me up with metal rods.
In short, what I’m trying to say is “stop being late for things dickwads!”
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Posted by Richard on February 5th, 2010
A couple of months ago, I broke all my moral principles and I joined a gymnasium. I didn’t see this as unreasonable as I want to lose some weight and I figure exercise has got to play some part in it (cause I’ll be fucked if I’m going to basically stop eating). I thought when I joined this gym, naievely that it would be filled with people like me. Chronically unfit people trying to get into shape. Oh how wrong i was. This place is filled with people who seem to have little other purpose in life other than getting a really muscly physique. The free weights section is the worst; it must be said that I completely avoid this section simply because everybody in there is the sort of person who has an exercise timetable, but even in the regular gym you still get big guys trying to attract attention by lifting the heaviest dumbells they can find. And just in case they don’t get the attention from anyone else, they lift them in front of a giant mirror in order to feel good about themselves.
Why do I care about these people I hear you ask. “But Richard, surely you could just put your ipod in and not pay attention to them”, and for the most part I can. However if I happen to be using the same piece of equipment as another person who is as i previously described, then it doesn’t exactly endear me to keep going, simply because it doesnt matter how much I try, I simply won’t be better than these people (note that the rowing machines are the worst offenders here). Today I start a campaign: Bring back the fatties to the gyms. Then at least there will be people there who I could happily waste that exercise by going for lunch with.
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Posted by Martin Thomas on February 4th, 2010
One of the drawbacks of being a human being, aside from having to put up with the existence of Jedward, is having to buy things. Now whilst the internet has done a lot of great things such as producing well-loved blog FNHate and providing the means for people to do all their shopping with the click of a mouse, sometimes boredom or necessity kicks in and one is required to make the dreaded trip to the high street or shopping centre. As a loner who prefers to spend his time writing bitter internet blog entries or watching Crime Scene Investigation, this is never a joyful experience for me.
Firstly, it’s the crowds. It’s like everyone reads my mind as to what time I’m planning on going shopping, and they all decide to go at the same time just to get on my tits. And shopping seems to bring out the worst in people when it comes to, you know, WALKING! People can be pacing about all over the place and then the second they get into the shopping centre they’re like bloody turtles. And they don’t half get in the way as well. People seem to have a love of just suddenly standing still while everybody around them is walking, so you either have to do a Matrix-style dodge to avoid them, or do my preferred tactic of barging right past. Fight the power.
Secondly, do shops really have to cram every square inch with their products on display? I’m thinking specifically of sports shops here. Yes, I appreciate that you need as much stock out as possible in order to maximise profits (hey, I got a B in my Business Studies A Level thank you very much). But the problem with that is you’re not going to sell anything if people can’t move around your shop and reach stuff. I went into one sports shop today and there was about 20cm room between each rack of assorted tracksuits and other tacky guff. Still, if I’m ever training to try and join the Army and want to attempt an assault course, I needn’t pay for it, just pop down to JJB.
Then there’s the vultures, latin name harrassius cuntius. Native to electronics, gadget and mobile phone shops, this creature eyes it’s prey coming into the shop, then swoops down on them the second their big toenail steps onto their premises. “Hi are you okay there?” “What are you thinking of buying today?” “Do you need any help?” Now I like friendly service, but as a non-dribbling idiot, I am able to approach staff and ask for help myself. I don’t need three staff members swarming around me every time I glance at a mobile phone you have for sale. Now I do sympathise with them because I did this line of work very, very, very briefly at Toys R Us, and it was horrible. When you have sales targets to hit, your friendly manner slowly becomes a stalkerish reign of terror as you don’t let me walk around your shop without your head popping out from over my shoulder going “ooh that’s a lovely model sir”. Enough about my physique, I’m shopping.
This is why I like to do most of my shopping online. You don’t have to speak to anyone, it can be done in a matter of minutes, and I feel less guilty spending too much money on shit I don’t need when the notes aren’t actually sitting in my hand all crisp and lovely.
Oh, and no I don’t have a reward card and no I’m not interested in getting one. I’m thinking of getting this tattooed to my forehead to save time.
Tags: money, people, shopping
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