Day 161 (30th October 2011) - Why you wanna put stars in their eyes?

...or as Roger Mellie used to call it 'Marbles up their Arseholes'!

OK, so this blog is supposed to be about my various challenges, however it's 'my gaff, my rules', so if I want to discuss the pros and cons of quantitative easing, the various merits of Monet vs Degas or the use of sleep as a metaphor in Shakespeare, then I shall.

...and I'm sure I'll get on to each of those subjects at some stage throughout the year.  In the meantime, you can have my list of random irritations about the X-Factor!

I confess to having a love / hate relationship with the X-Factor.  Every year I promise myself I'm not going to watch it and every year I end up getting hooked from about Boot Camp onwards.  I find the auditions a bit tedious  - 'and just when the judges thought the day was a total waste, along came xxxx (insert name with random sob story)'; repeat x number of episodes - and I find many of the contestants...well...a bit sad, really.  You know, the ones we're all supposed to laugh at for being so deluded; the same ones who often appear to have very little going for them in life other than the fact they have a dream to escape their existence and see the X Factor as a possible chance to do so?  (since when did I develop a conscience?).  But when it gets to Boot Camp and Judges Houses, however, I'm in there like a tramp on chips and remain that way until, ooh, about episode five of the live shows, when I start to get a bit bored.  By Christmas I'm totally over it...until the next year.

At the moment, I'm on that cusp of being totally hooked but beginning to emerge from the all-encompassing obession like a squirrel emerging from hibernation (I could have easily said beaver, but you lot aren't to be trusted on that one).  Thus far it's been quite fun.  Things I have particularly enjoyed about this year's show include:

• No Simon Cowell.  He just always looked bored, frankly and you always felt that the show wasn't about the contestants but was solely about him...
• ...and Biffa Cole, who I'm also missing about as much as ricketts.  The moment she said Cher Lloyd was 'right up her street' she reminded us that rather than the carefully manufactured nation's sweetheart, she'll always be that rough Geordie lass who took her mules to a toilet attendant over the price of a couple of Haribo or something.
• Two Shoes - 'totes emosh Derm' will live on forever
• The way Peter Dixon says 'Sophie Habibas'
• Kelly Rowland - love Destiny's Child and love the Rowland
• No Brian Friedman.  His shrunken head always scared me
• Two Shoes - the running lipstick
• The fact that a number of the acts are of a similar standard making it harder to predict who's going and who's staying
• Goldie - the greatest contestant the X Factor has ever seen.  As mad as a box of frogs
• Two Shoes - the greatest group the X Factor has ever seen.  As mad as a box of frogs
• Tulisa- a pleasant surprise!  Thought I was going to hate her.  I don't!
• Kitty - not the greatest contestant the X Factor has ever seen.  But still as mad as a box of frogs and very watchable - particularly her heavily botoxed forehead.

Four weeks into the live shows, however, and the appeal of most of the above is wearing thin and being supplanted by those random irritations which are growing ever bigger by the week.  The prospect of never hearing the words 'Sophie Habibis' uttered in 'that' way, regardless of whether she was a good singer or not (I never quite figured that out) has seen the appeal of the programme plummet several notches this week (although it's still not quite as good as 'Rachel Adedeji'

Anyway, the purpose of this post is to get these X-Factor irritations off my chest, once and for all.  Ladies and Gentlemen, your X-Factor rant starts right here (does a little twirl a la Dermot).  In no particular order:

1. Frankie - what a talentless little pr*ck he is.  Can barely sing, has all the charisma of haemorrhoids and has as much attitude as Sister Wendy.  'I went out again last night.  I know Gary's going to be cross'  Yes, so much so that he sent an entire film crew with you.  No-one has six girls names tattooed on their arse cos they're 'hard' or they're 'cool'.  No, they do it to get noticed, because they don't have the confidence in who they are as a person to think people will be interested in who they are and what they have to say.  In many cases you can sympathise, but when they overcompensate to the extent this little turd has, then quite frankly sympathy goes out the window.  You just know there are a number of drug suppliers rubbing their greasy little paws together as the propect of encountering Frankie.
2. PR by numbers.  'Simon's livid with the viewing figures', 'the judges are all getting sacked',  'the judges have had a big fall out', 'xxx was bully', 'yyy was a victim of bullying', 'zzz is sleeping with bbb'.  Yawn.  We can all see through the big PR machine, because you attempt to feed us the same stories EVERY YEAR - right back to Pop Idol when Will Young was 'rumoured to be dating' Hayley Evetts. Try to come up with something original!  It's boring and totally seethrough.  Why not go for something totally outlandish along the lines of 'Louis Walsh admits he's gay' or 'Kelly admits she hasn't spoken to her acts since Boot Camp' or 'Simon Cowell admits he's gay' or 'whilst the other judges are on £500k each, Tulisa gets her busfair and a 1998 trance CD'
3. Ashford - just die!!!!  And no, I don't mean literally, but for goodness sake he's like ruddy Batfink!  Chance #1 - Boot Camp.  Not good enough.  Voted off.  Chance #2 - resurfaces in Nu Vibe.  Not good enough.  Voted off.  Chance #3 - resurfaces in The Risk.  For the love of God, will no-one get the message?  What has this boy got over Cowell that, like herpes,  he keeps coming back!  If I was Kelly I'd rush back from LA pretty sharpish cos I'm expecting to see Ashford in her chair as soon as The Risk are voted off
4. Kelly's sickie - as acting performances go it was right up there with Mariah Carey's turn in Glitter (if you haven't seen this, I insist you watch it, but do so in the company of friends and lots of alcohol).  As much as I love the Rowland (if only for the fact she's not Cheryl), c'mon love!  You only have to sit there for an hour and say 'you brought it' five times and 'you need to take it up a notch' four times, you're not being asked to clear the studio of asbestos!  Quite frankly if one of the judges can't be bothered to show up, I'm not sure I can be bothered to watch
5. Frankie's hair -   No.  Excuse.  For.  That.  Barnet. 
6. Mischa B's insincerity - easily the most talented act on the show, but looks as trustworthy as an Italian in a war (apologies to any Italian's who might be offended by that).  Not to be crossed, that one.
7. Janet - now I'm sure she's lovely, however listening to the judges you've have thought we'd discovered the lovechild of John Lennon and Madonna.  I know I'm no Andrew Lloyd Webber (thank heavens), but to me she just sounds a bit dull and a bit...well...out of tune.
8. Frankie's facial hair - I'm not even sure what to call it.  Moustache - definitely not.  Stubble - hardly.  Whatever it is, someone must surely have a word
9. The groups - what's the point of entering the X Factor as a group anymore?  You won't make it through, cos ultimately they'll simply manufacture some new ones and foist them onto the show - and now they've even started manufacturing the manufactured bands!  Looking at the dross that's left now, how sorely missed are Two Shoes.
10. Charlie from The Risk - it's not all about you!  Guess the signs were there when he dumped his previous bandmates quicker than you could say 'treachorous turncoat', however his inability to let any of his new bandmates speak when asked a question is tedious beyond belief
11. Frankie's lack of socks.  For one week, just buy him a pair
12. Gary selecting Craig as the performance of the week every week - OK he can sing, but he's totally forgettable.  If he wasn't large, he wouldn't have made it. 

And breathe.  Phew, I feel better for that. Of course, it's not all bad- yet!  I'm liking Kitty, Marcus and Little Mix more every week (loved Little Mix's Extra Terrestrial this week), but still think it's between Mischa B and The Risk for the win (although the bookies are backing Janet quite heavily)...and it's still my must-watch TV of the week (for the time being).

Right, best go and practice my Engelbert Humperdinck for next year's auditions!

If you've been affected by anything you've read in this post and wish to add your X-Factor loves / hates, feel free to comment below.

Day 154 (23 October 2011) - We're Livin' on the Edge...

...livin' on the edge'

When did life get so expensive?

I'm sitting here, having finally seen a couple of flats which look remotely habitable, trying to work out which one of the two, if either, I can afford.  One is slightly over my budget, but is a leasehold property, so has a service charge of £100 per month;  the other is within my budget but has a share of freehold and has a service charge of nearly £200 per month.  On paper it's only £100 but when taken in the context of all the other bills and expenses we have nowadays, £100 is a lot - particularly as I have nothing but a chest of drawers and a mattress by way of furniture so will have to find a way of furnishing the flat.  I have considered pretending I'm going for the minimalist look and just getting in a couple of beanbags, but I am 37 so do require a proper, comfortable bed and somewhere to hang my clothes as the very least.

Thinking about how much money I'm going to need each month has made me realise just how ludicroudly expensive life has become.  I earn a good salary and have a big deposit and yet I'm finding this flat-buying experience ruddy difficult.  How on earth do most people in London manage?  I look around my wonderful team sometimes and think 'you're going to have to move out to get a place of your own'  - and, indeed, two of them already have, choosing to face daily commutes in from Leighton Buzzard and Towcester respectively.  Towcester!!! - that's practically Birmingham.  Ok, this has enabled them to buy a property but they're then faced with annual travel bills of £3,000+  for the rights to wedge their nostrils into someone's sweaty armpits every morning. 

Of course I could join them (not literally) and move further out, but I LOVE London and don't just want it to be a place I work.  I want to be able to feel the buzz in the evening, to get lost in new and exciting parts at weekends and it's still the place where I find the biggest concentration of my friends.  That doesn't meant that I couldn't move to cheaper areas, but I'm reluctant to do this.  As everyone who knows me will know, I love a bit of security, to be surrounded by safe and familiar people and places.  I've found it hard enough accepting that I can't live in Putney and might have to be a mile or two down the road, so suddenly upping sticks to Beckton or Hackney or Surbiton just feels wrong. 

Added to this is typical male pride.  It's bad enough being dumped, but to have to then give up most of the rest of your previously happy life, and disappear into the sunset to the other side of town away from friends and familiarity is just rubbing salt in the wounds, frankly.  Yes, I could have a spanking flat, but I don't want to spend every evening sitting in it thinking about all the fun everyone else is having without me!

It's bizarre when you think about it.  London is filled with thousands of homes.  Every day I walk down streets, roads and closes and think 'I could live here' and yet I can't even begin to afford most of them.  Who's buying them all?  Maybe they're all filled with pensioners who have lived there for sixty years, unaware of the value of the bricks and mortar around them?  I know a lot of people blame bankers, but having lived with one for eight years whilst I can confirm that they do live in a different stratosphere financially and although they are all lovely people, have little idea what the average person on the street goes through, even they can't afford to go round hoovering up properties like my Mother buying cardigans at an M&S sale.

So, staying around the are is more expensive.  So, faced with this property conundrum, I've been looking into my potential outgoings to see where I can potentially make savings.  Of course, there are some things you just can't be without.  In priority order these include:

1. Sky TV - an absolute must.  I watch Eurosport and Sky Sports more than any other channels.  OK, I can compromise on Movies, which I never watch, but this still comes in at £52 a month with broadband and Sky + (which I place marginally ahead of the wheel in all-time greatest inventions)
2. National Lottery - I've played the same two lines for every lottery draw since its inception.  If I stopped playing, I would still find myself checking the numbers every draw, so I can't take the risk.  £18 a month
3. Electricity - required to power Sky and the TV.  Lighting also a bonus as is the ability to power other applicances. £30 a month
4. Gas - heating is good.  I don't like the cold or being cold.  And I can't knit  £40 a month
5. Water -very useful for someone who likes having a bath.  Quite like being able to flush the loo too.  £25 a month
6. TV Licence - apparently illegal not to have one, although I'd like to know what the BBC have done with all the dosh they made from pimpingTinky Winky et al around the world.  £15 a month
7. Mobile Phone - £26 a month contract.  I'm clevely limited from spending too much more by the fact the ruddy thing doesn't get a signal in most of the western world
8. Contact lenses - £25 a month.  Required for two reasons: I can't see through my glasses as they're no longer strong enough, but can't afford a new pair and I'm single - few people actively prefer a 'speccy twat'
9. Home Insurance - a potential saving.  For if I have no furniture I don't anything to insure.  Hmm, could be a cunning plan here. If I do get it it's c. £50 a month due to having made a claim recently - having added Piggy to my policy he promptly got his £2,000 bike nicked the following day.
10. Life insurance - £25 a month.  I took this out to cover my half of the mortgage on the previous property so that the ex wouldn't get clobbered for my half of the mortgage.  Given it's just me now, do I still need this?  A potential saving.  Hoorah!
11. Gym membership - £51 a month.  I'm short and nearly 40.  This means that I only have to walk past a chocolate eclair and I put on a pound.  Again this is linked to being single - single people can't afford to be fat!  And yes I do use it!
12. Haircut - currently £38 a month, comprising £33 fee and £5 tip.  I picked this up from the ex who convined me it was rude not to tip a hairdresser at least £5.  Frankly, this strikes me as being overly generous.  Do you tip your hairdresser?  If so, how much?  If not, do they extract their revenge next time by giving you a buble perm you didn't ask for or accidentally losing the blade on the clippers and giving you a Grade 0 line?  Again, being single I can't afford to have a mullet.  Should I risk a go at Mr Toppers for £7?
13. Macmillan Christmas Club - £50.  This is a scheme run by colleagues at work which is essentially a savings scheme which makes Christmas more doable, by spreading the cost throughout the year. 

...add on a council tax (£60), and the small matter of the mortgage - I can only get a repayment mortgage as I don't have a 55% deposit (WTF) - and suddenly the issue of the service charge becomes important.

And then there's the 'discretionary' spend the bit that's left over after all of the above for everything else.  Of course you can always cut back, but there's only so many jacket potatoes a man can eat.  Similarly, being single means that any social interaction requires going out - and you can hardly go out and drink lime and soda can you?  Certainly not when there's a recession on and we all need to put more money into the economy.  In all seriousness, my days of 8 holidays a year have long gone.  I think I shall be lucky to get one from now on.

So, what have I concluded from all these musings?  Well, it can be summed up as follows:

 - Life is expensive
 - Being single is ridiculously expensive
 - I'm going to have to make cutbacks - friends empathy would be appreciated...'please come to dinner on Friday, we've booked a table at the Fat Duck' would just be plain mean.  I should point out that, no, this doesn't mean that if you invite me round I'm rocking up with Asda's own Bucks Fizz, but it does mean that the days of buying Veuve have now passed.  I will be taking advantage of 'offer's so be warned!
 - If I'm going to own a home, I'm going to have to live on the edge of financial security, something I'm not overly comfortable with.  Actually this scares the hell out of me
 - I'm not going to have much furniture.  Everyone is always welcome to visit - I'd love to see you - but you may be sitting on the floor.
 - Renting my second bedroom out would make a real difference - but it has to be to someone I know, or someone who knows someone I know!  Know anyone who might be interested?

So, based on the above, should I take the plunge and put an offer in? Eeeeeeek!

Day 135 (4 October 2011) - 'There are more questions than answers...

...pictures in my mind, something, something, something' etc.


No idea what that song is, but takes me back to a Question of Sport when it used to be on a Tuesday night with Bill Beaumont and Willie Carson.


The reason for the quote is (fanfare please) - Task 11 - Win a Pub Quiz (Kat).  Ta-dah!!!!


I have always loved a quiz.  I can clearly remember sitting in front of the TV as a wee nipper shouting the answers to Celebrity Squares and Sale of the Century at Bob Monkhouse & Nicholas Parsons respectively (who were on said TV - they never popped round for a Scotch Egg and a Bird's Trifle).  I've also been blessed with the ability to retain random facts (although I've noticed this has declined in recent months - possibly something to do with a corresponding increase in alcohol consumption!) and have always loved learning new things.  Why just this week, I've learned the following:


1. The actor who plays the eldest child in BBC sitcom Outnumbered, is the real-life son of legendary porn star, Ben Dover
2. Tyburn, the site of many hangings throughout history, includng the marvellously named Perkin Walbeck, is actually at the present site of Marble Arch
3. Both Matt Cardle and Liam from One Direction (or Wand Erection) only have one kidney


In short, I like to think of myself as a poor man's Rain Man with slightly better teeth - but sadly only with the ability to remember inane facts rather than really important stuff.   From the Sunday night pop quiz at the Larwood and Voce pub under Trent Bridge cricket ground, Nottingham, which I barely missed in two years (and where a fishman would rock up during the interval to be greeted with standard cry of 'don't be alarmed ladies, it's only the fishman' and 'got any crabs on ya, cock?') via the Monday nights at the Unicorn, Trumpington, to Thursdays at the Volunteer, Cambridge, I've always loved a good pub quiz.  Since living in London, however, I've probably only been to about five in thirteen years - most of which have been with the very, very clever Kat who's a bit of a quiz whizz (she'd be one of my 'Phone a Friends').


Over the years I've won a few (not many, but a few), come close several times (most notably during a work quiz night where we lost because I couldn't remember the term for a collective noun of rhinos - I kept smashing my fist into the other hand saying 'it's a smash, a thwack, a collision or something'...it's actually a crash) and have never come last; or if I have I've blocked it from my mind along with the denim jacket, my impressions of Margaret Thatcher and art classes.  If I haven't ever come last, this is because, and let's be honest here, a surprising number of people in this country have little or no general knowledge at all - think Jade Goody -  so there’s usually one team of thickies.  Of course, this can be quite amusing, particularly if answers given are truly awful.  To this day few things make me laugh more than the list of terrible answers from Family Fortunes.  My favourites are as follows:


A number you might have to memorise - seven
A slang word for a girl - slag
A song from the Sound of Music - Dancing queen
Something you open other than a door - your bowels
A dangerous race - the Arabs
A kind of ache - filet-o-fish (??)
Something that flies that doesn't have an engine - a bicycle with wings
A bird with a long neck - Naomi Campbell
...and my all-time fave:
Something red - is it my cardigan?


Fortunately, Steven, Piggy and I didn't come up with anything quite so inane when we found ourselves at the weekly quiz night at the Arab Boy, Putney's oldest pub apparently!  Despite having lived within a stone's throw of the pub for five years I'd never been inside as it always looked like the sort of place where everyone had their own seat and where some old soak would be sitting at the bar having arrived for a swift half in 1972.  I was, however, pleasantly surprised as it turned out to be terribly pleasant with a typically Putney-esque middle-class clientele, a landlord and quizmaster who looks like Dennis Norden and, of course, the cheek to charge £2.50 for an orange juice and lemonade.


Having surveyed the competition, which included a team of older people all peering over the tops of their specs (which I always take as a sign of intelligence), I'd decided that we weren't in with much of a chance, so having paid our £1 entry fee and christened ourselves 'Piggy's Trotters' we decided to get involved in some burgers.  But when the sheets were handed out and it was announced that one of the rounds was 'Pop Music' I began to think that we might just challenge for UEFA Cup if not Champion's League. 


There were five rounds in total:

1. Famous Restaurants - Steven is a big foodie, so I thought we might be OK here
2. Famous Buildings - hmm, not so confident although between the three of us we are quite well travelled
3. Famous scientists -  I looked firmly in Piggy's direction on this one.  He responded by attempting to hide behind his bap.  Not a sign of confidence
4. Famous No 1 hits - my home territory.  When it comes to music I am borderline autistic.  So much so that I have to confess to having kept a written record of every Top 20 chart since 1989.  That last sentence alone probably goes further to explaining why I'm single than anything!!  I confidently suggested we play our joker (double points) on this round
5. Famous People Aptagrams - what's an aptragram I hear you cry?  Well it's an apt anagram.  This is the sort of round which drives a man to drink (probably why pubs first started holding quizzes).  There were ten of these bad boys in total.  See how you get on:

• (sportsman) TAKEN IT FOR A RIDE
• (actress) NO ALIENS DARLING
• (politician) IM AN EVIL TORY BIGOT
• (leader) HE BUGS GORE
• (actor) OCEAN IDOL OR A DRIP
• (personality) ASCEND IN PARIS
• (actor / director) OLD WEST ACTION
• (scientist / inventor) AHA IONS MADE VOLTS
• (leader - dead) UNS SAID HES MAD
• (19th century heroine) ANGEL OF THE RECLINING

..answers next time.


To be honest we didn't think we'd done that well.  Steven played a blinder on the aptagram round, so much so that I fully expect to see him on Channel 4 in the near future asking for 'two from the top and four from anywhere else you choose'.  He also came up trumps on the restaurant round, where I was sadly lacking (but only because none of the answers was The Brewers Fayre).  Piggy also made some telling contributions including the introduction of ketchup to the quiz sheet (mucky pup).  When the scores finally came in we'd done as follows:

1. Famous Restuarants - 7/10
2. Famous Buildings - 6/10
3. Famous Scientists - 5/10
4. Famous No 1 Hits - 20/20 (joker played). 
5. Aptragams - 9/10

Total score - 47, which amazingly was enough to secure the £40 first prize.


I would say I was proud of securing top marks in the music round, but when I tell you that the answers included Mr Blobby, Clive Dunn, Steve Brookstein and the Macarena, you'll understand that my sense of pride is tinged with that of sheer embarrassment.


Having collected our prize to a polite ripple of applause and some murmerings of 'bastards' coming from the bespectacled table, we took the following celebratory shot

We donated the £40 to Steven's Rob Roy Challenge fundraising efforts and ambled home with a sense of pride in a job well done and another challenge ticked.


PS I won't mention that we returned last week and got trounced!