Sunday 20 November 2011

Gym Gym-in-ney, Gym Gym-in-ney, Gym-gym-ger-oo, Going ter Gym’s what I’m About to Do-0000000

I don’t really have anything to say about going to the gym this morning – I just wanted to use this heading as it’s what I sing in my head as I walk to the gym(nasium). If I had to say something (honestly, you don’t Phil: keep it brief..I get to say I read your blog and you get to not spend 20 minutes typing it up. Go on…watch Cocktail) I would say that I am growing increasingly confused as to why they are leaving one of the TVs on a news channel without the subtitles on. Simple rules for TVs in a gym: Music videos or sport – fine with just pictures; Normal TV & News channels – subtitles needed. The TV in question used to have BBC1 on with subtitles. Now it’s BBC News 24 without subtitles. It’s a crock of fucking shit.

City are all well and good spending nearly £200 million (actually more, that was their loss, so there’s all the money they made to take in to account – pun acknowledged) on David Silva and Mario Balotelli but how’s about they spend WHATEVER IT TAKES to address this news channel/subtitles mess. And while you’re at it how’s about you sort the balance out on all the machines? It really sticks in my throat that Carlos Tevez is being paid MILLIONS to refuse to play when Manchester City (Council) are taking £27 a month off me to not tailor the gym to my exact needs.

Holidays are coming…

It’s that time of the year the same debate rages in homes, offices, travel cafes, brothels and swimming baths all over the country. What marks the start of Christmas? The first time you get a can of Coke (Coca-Cola) with a picture of Santa on it, or the first time you see the ‘Holidays are Coming‘ Coke (Coca-Cola) advert? Call me a fascinating young convention teaser if you want but for me it’s  the latter for me. And so – despite having Father Christmas’ stupid bearded visage leering at me from a can of Coke (Coca-Cola) at me the other day – tonight, in the ad break on Cocktail, hearing the magical repeating of those three factual words in that beautiful rhythm meant for me it is now as inevitable as Brian Flanagan realising that Jordan still wanted him and he and her could be happy without money*. [I used to love the end bit where he goes and gets her from her dad’s posh house: “Get your hands off her – she’s pregnant”. One of the many unrealistic – and frankly unwantable in reality – benchmarks of winning love the young me had.]

*That’s going to lose you if you haven’t seen Cocktail. And I’m not going to apologise for that because you** should be ashamed of yourself if you haven’t seen Roger Donaldson’s seminal hymn to the American Dream/another wank 80s Tom Cruise vehicle (depending on your take).

**read this ‘because you’ as beco-Shue in honour of Elizabeth.

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