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It's all a load of bollocks, quite frankly

Oh bloody hell Bono, why do you make me so angry?

Mr B. Ono-Twat

This is one of my old stock images of Bono. It’s still VERY relevant

So, my nemesis is at it again. Yes, that twat with the stupid sunglasses. Has he been sent here from another world purely to piss me off? Think I’m being paranoid because he does a bang up job of pissing most people I know off. This time, he and his other band mates have declared themselves important enough to use their new album to infect literally many Apple devices with the much feared U2 Bonio virus.

It’s just a big publicity stunt which means Apple gets loads of plaudits and attention and U2 get as much coverage as possible, meaning that unwittingly every person who owns an Apple device will have a copy of Bonio’s latest drivel. Could be a win situation, resulting in more people owning a U2 album than ever before. Bonio and The Hedge were probably rubbing their hands with guilty glee. However, six days after the “launch” and “installation without permission” it has appeared that many people had complained that this album had been downloaded to people’s devices without the aforementioned permission. Excluding the whole valid argument for device safety and hacking and what not, what gives these bunch of bastards the right to do such a thing? Do they really think they’re that important that everyone will want a copy of their new album? Thankfully I have an Android phone, though knowing my luck they’ll install Bob sodding Geldof on it.

A sigh of relief, though. If your Apple product has been infected by the U2 Bonio Virus, there simple steps you can take to remove it. Apple have released a one-step one-click U2 removal solution. Click here. Pity this doesn’t work for the band themselves.

So, there have been many great innovations in the music industry in how to distribute music. This isn’t one of them and it is likely to have a huge publicity stunt backfire moment. Still, I take great satisfaction from the fact that U2 can’t even give their fucking album away.

On a more positive note, I’ve been watching Jeff Lynne live at Hyde Park. Now, he is a proper music legend, down to earth and humble with it too. And Jeff’s sunglasses aren’t stupid.

September 16, 2014 Posted by | Rants | Leave a comment

Sworn To Lunacy

Bollocks! It has been brought to my attention that I swear too fucking much. I suppose really this is a fair cop and I am inclined to bloody well agree with. Any pretensions of talking a full fucking (sorry) sentence without the use of fuck, twat, arse, cunt, bollocks, bastard or indeed the mild little phrase bugger, simply fail to materialise.

I mean, what makes one express such profanities? It has been claimed that those who swear with a greater frequency are looked upon as being intellectually inferior. I don’t totally agree with that, however there is some evidence to back it up as Liam Gallagher exists. Some claim it’s an anger management technique. Uh huh. The most common uses or reasons for swearing are responses to something painful (anyone who has ran into a door at full pelt would know), or dealing with frustrating situations (the wife taking five hours to get ready again?) Researchers have claimed that it is good for relieving stress (I assumed these researchers got paid for, erm, researching stuff we already knew) and that growing up through childhood to adulthood it gradually becomes a way of expression in a similar way to a baby crying. That is certainly plausible as a baby’s way of responding to running into a door, Mum taking five hours to get ready again or Dad insisting he’s funny is crying (I’ve run out of stuff to put in brackets). I apparently went straight from baby crying to exclaiming “fucking hell, it’s pissing down again” at the tender age of three. Well, it WAS pissing down out there! (Still nothing to go in brackets).

I never really swore that much as a young teenager, but through the latter part of school and college the frequency increased. I never seemed to be convincing. Some friends have likened me to Will from The Inbetweeners as I am now, but I was probably more like that than either me or my friends could ever have imagined. My first job it toned down a little, then I got made redundant and couldn’t find work for seven months. Seven fucking months! This tested my patience and broke many things in my brain, including the barrier that held back all the naughty bum tit words. Then I went to work at a local car dealership in the service department. Within that environment I was surrounded by other males who swear as much as the next one and it almost sub-consciously becomes a challenge as to who can fit more “fucks” in one sentence than the next guy. I would get customers who drive me to lunacy and it would be all that I could do to not shout and swear at them. I’d have to go into the workshop and out-swear the mechanic whilst moaning about the twat who had been at the service desk previously. Working in a garage environment for a decade with a bunch of (talented) grease monkey (lovely people) bastard twats definitely made sure that my propensity to swear remained on an even keel with someone who fucking bastard bitch suffers from tourettes. Which I don’t. Cuntwallops. Swearing really just became habit, and despite the fact I could construct a decent, balanced argument I’d usually respond with expletives and a great big FUCK YOU at the end of it.

It got to a point where a few of us would try and egg each other on and try to make the manager swear. To fill you in on his background, he would never ever swear. The worst profanity he would express would be “shit”. He would never use the F-word. Ever. It was frustrating and made us swear even more, but we tried everything – pranks, practical jokes, wind ups, mimicking his voice, strange phone calls even, to try and get him to mutter the F-word. Three years of this and the most we ever got was “twat”. Oh my.

These days I am no longer within the motor trade and still swear like a fucking (told you) trooper. Partly because where I am now I still meet and greet complete and utter bellends (he did it again) for customers. Partly, though, it’s habit as I touched on before. However, it’s a habit I really ought to be stamping out, to a degree. Why? My a seventeen month old boy is exceptionally good at picking up words and he copies things so wonderfully now. He picks up stuff at an alarming rate. He’s already said “bugger” because of his Granny. So as you can imagine, I don’t really want him repeating any of my favoured swear words. Not at least until he’s old enough and tall enough that he can wallop me in the chops.

It is a shame as there is something in what these exceptionally well paid researchers have said. There is no better relief than exclaiming “FUCK” after you’ve run into the sixteenth door that year. Or hammering a nail through your hand and your name isn’t Jesus. There’s also something quite amusing about your wife calling you a cunt because you’ve wound her up for the five hundred and eighty twelfth time that day. Or calling your mates a cunt or a twat because THEY WON’T STOP PLAYING THAT FUCKING COUNTING TRAIN BLOODY SONG. For those uneducated, it is a child’s toy – a train driven by a frog that plays the MOST ANNOYING FUCKING SONG IN THE WORLD! I’M SHOUTING, I KNOW! I’M SWEARING I KNOW! ARSE BISCUITS! I CAN’T STOP IT. Ahem.

I’ve got swearing licked for the car as generally my son is in the car with me whenever I am so I have to be careful. Oh yes. I still epically fail at times, despite me creating my own swear language for road rage, parking rage and general ignorance rage that I inevitably suffer on a very frequent basis. It’s easy to follow, you can create your own! You simply substitute your least favourite celebrities for your favourite swear words. You can have hours of fun creating your own.

Here’s my “Swearing-but-not-swearing-in-front-of-my-child-whilst-driving-chart Chart”

Substitute fuck for fudge first off, then the following:
Bono – First rate total fucking Cunt
Piers Morgan – Ordinary cunt
Geldof – Twat
Phil Collins – Wanker
Sting – Arsehole
Bieber – Prick
Chris Martin – Knobhead
Courtney Love – Bitch

Heather Mills – This really is unrepeatable

Some drivers have looked rather bemused when I’ve called them a fudging, Geldofing Bono. Still, it’s good fun. And my son is none the wiser.

November 13, 2012 Posted by | Rants | Leave a comment

It’s not a Mini adventure, it’s a gargantuan pile of horse manure

A proper Mini

Literally millions of years ago, the British Motor Corporation launched the Mini. It was launched as the Austin Seven Mini and the Morris Mini Minor. Later versions would be launched such as the badge engineered Riley Elf and Wolseley Hornet, which were Minis with a hideous grille and a shoebox blue-tacked to the rear. Later we would see Cooper versions. In the late sixties BMC became British Leyland and the Mini Clubman was launched to replace the existing Mini. It failed.

In the early 80’s, BL launched the Metro to replace the Mini. It failed as the Mini outlived it. Nothing, it seemed, could capture the magic of the original. However, whilst the Mini (and especially the old Clubman and 1275GT) remains a firm favourite car of mine, we must remember the fact that the Mini lived on well past its sell-by date. True, it was technically a brilliantly packaged car. Front wheel drive and a transverse mounted engine it was far ahead of its time. It handled like nothing else and took on corners with consummate ease.

However, it was cramped, cold, noisy, bumpy, rusty and unreliable. In a few words, a little bit rubbish. And yet I still love the Mini so. About five years ago I managed to borrow a mid-sixties Cooper S, and it was without a doubt about the best fun I’ve had with my clothes on. Certainly one of my favourite drives, it was across the North Cliffs Portreath to Hayle road in Cornwall. Its steering, suspension and sheer eagerness gelled and this thing came alive. Certainly my daily hack (a nearly new Punto Sporting) seemed desperately dull in comparison. I’d subsequently driven 80s Minis and I got out with the same Cheshire Cat grin I’d gotten with that Cooper. To an extent I got the same sensation when having a go in an MG Metro.

I urge you to take an old Mini out, if you can get the bloody thing started that is. Chances are, when you eventually do, something will then break, the headgasket will go and the clutch will implode. But once all of these things are fixed and you’ve reattached the rotten subframes that fell off in the night, you will think why hadn’t I done this before?

All this preamble is supposed to get to a point, though as is my want, have managed to avoid it like an Anthony Gerrard penalty. I love the old Mini to bits. I even love the much-maligned Clubman. Hell, I’m even quite liking the early Metros these days. All of their flaws I’m prepared to overlook for the grin on my face I get when I drive one. The new BMW Minis though?

I’d like to drop a Top Gear piano on those, as much as I would a Marina. I drove a Works Cooper, and couldn’t understand the fuss. Sure, it handles nicely. Sure it goes around corners nicely, but there are lots of other cars that do so better, the old Mini being one of them. Sure it’s popular, but then so is the Clap and I’m not suggesting that’s good. It’s not a packaging miracle, like the old one. My Punto is smaller on the outside and bigger on the inside. It’s more comfortable too. The switches in my 12 year old Fiat feel more substantial and less flimsy than in the new Mini.

There are a few similarities to the old Mini, namesake apart. Size isn’t one of them, they’re bloody huge. Being cramped inside, however, is. The one thing BMW have managed to engineer in to the new Mini is its propensity to rust like the old one. And to burst into flames. And to break. They’ve also managed to make the supercharger sound like the whine from the sump-mounted gearbox from the old Mini. So, if I want a car that is cramped, fun, whines like a banshee and is likely to rot or fail as I’m driving along, I’ll either have an old Mini or stick with my Italian stuff.

Look at the size of that fucking thing compared with the original. This is the Mini "Cuntryman"

Just don’t get me started on these Mini spin-off models, the Clubfoot and the Cuntryman (sic). Oh bollocks, I got myself started. Oh well. Why make the already big Mini bigger? And uglier? The Clubfoot is a new interpretation of the old Countryman Mini estate, which essentially was a Minivan with windows and seats. It’s dreadful. Then there’s the current Countryman which is the modern interpretation of a bucket of sick. It’s bigger than bloody Redruth and it looks so bad it could scare children and scar them mentally for life.

BMW have launched a “Coupe” version of the Mini, which basically looks like someone stole The Stig’s helmet, melted it in the oven and the remnants poured over the car to create the roof. Now they’ve launched a van version, called the, erm, Clubvan. I wonder if they can do a GPO special edition finished in grey?

I’m just wondering how low BMW will now stoop, as they’ve passed scraping the bottom of the barrel, gone through the tarmac and are located somewhere within the Earth’s core. It smacks to me as they are in a situation where they’ve run out of ideas. There’s only so far you can go with retro design, and BMW have gone above and beyond the realms. Perhaps they’re now thinking of a reboot of the Mini pickup? Perhaps a Mini MiniMetro that will look a bit like the old Metro but will be the size of an articulated lorry. Every week there seems to be a new model in the line-up, a new concept. What’s next, the Mini NCC1701? It has to stop!

But it’s not just the car that I’m pushed away from. The owners, or at least those I’ve met, all have this air of superiority about them. Arrogance and smugness. People who seriously need to get over themselves, and their Mini. Estate agent types.

So, this was the story of one of my favourite cars and one of my least favourite cars. For me, the old “proper” Mini will always be a legend. Whereas the new, cheap (actually fucking dear) knock-off Mini will always be a bit of a leg-end.

Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.

March 9, 2012 Posted by | Motoring, Rants | , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Manners and Consideration

Just a small rant today. Recently I have been wound up by humanity more than ever. The sheer ignorance, lack of manners and lack of consideration for other people knows no bounds. I saw this to such a degree on Saturday when I went shopping.  The thing is, it surely must take more effort to be a complete twat with no consideration for other people than to be otherwise. In my job you meet all kinds of people, and generally most of them are rude, ignorant bastards. Very few are really genuine, nice, pleasant people.

One of  my pet hates is shopping. Food shopping. I abhor food shopping. Generally serving up my appendix with a plate of chips would be more appealing and hence why we do most of our shopping online so I don’t have to interact with people in general. Hell, listening to 4 and a half minutes of U2 would be preferable. That to you may sound rude but it isn’t. I will say hello to someone I’ve never met. If someone says hello to me I will respond with equal salutation. However, for one reason or another, our shopping wasn’t done online. It meant we had to go out. Of the house. Yeah.

So, the arrival at the supermarket car park met with the first part of people being inconsiderate. For a start, when you have a baby, the amount of shite you have to carry around with you is, quite frankly, immense. So, supermarkets have a certain area for people like us which are called “Parent and Child Parking Bays”. Generally that means parents with children should only park in them. Not fat, ignorant wankers in Renault bloody Meganes who are too fucking lazy to walk a little bit more than three feet. Woopdy do, you have two shopping bags worth of chips, chocolate and beer to take back to your car. In fact of all of the cars parked in these bays, only three seemed to have any clue that the owners of the vehicles had children. I mean, for bloody hell’s sake one of them was a two-seat Mazda sports car. The ideal car of choice for parents and children.

Next I was behind a car, indicating and starting to reverse to a parking space, only for some cock in an Audi to drive the wrong way up the car park and park in the bay I was about to enter. Fucking knobend. I swear if my wife and child weren’t in the car I would have got out, towed his car away and had the fucker crushed, just for him being a smarmy cock in an Audi with all the manners of a dead parrot. But as wife and son were all aboard, I decided to just raise my arms, do a wanker sign, and only then did he see the great big orange indicator flashing, and the great big bright reversing lights on and decided to move on.

Inside the store, being cut up by people who cannot steer trolleys (how hard can that really be?) and generally staff that look at you as if you’re a pile of dog shite they’ve just stepped in. People that barge past you to get that item on the shelf that is right in front of you but can’t wait for them to pick it up for 15 seconds as you move out of the way. I’m not expecting everyone to be happy-go-lucky all of the time. Principally because I’m not, and generally that is an impossibility. However, manners don’t cost anything. Being more considerate to others doesn’t take any extra time. World, get off your high fucking horse and be slightly more pleasant.

(whose new mission as well as destroying Bono now includes destroying Audis and people who park in parent bays who don’t have children. Lord alone help you if you don’t have children but have an Audi and parks in one)

July 19, 2011 Posted by | Rants | Leave a comment

Customer Satisfaction… Is it worth it?

I work in the wonderful world of customer service. Working as a service manager in a car dealership is not really an ideal job to do but someone has to do. No one volunteered and I got stuck with it. Which basically puts me in the firing line for every single customer that has a complaint or worry regarding their car. Which is great, but when a car is one of the most expensive purchases you will ever make, people get very personal when something goes wrong.

I’ve been sworn at, shouted at, threatened with bodily violence and even semi-propositioned many, many moons ago. He wasn’t even that good-looking! Yes, you did read that correctly, HE. Anyway, there are some funny moments that occur, because customers can be really stupid. People you would swear were normal, intelligent people come across as completely retarded motherfucking bastards. Anyone who reads this and is a Facebook friend of mine will recognise these as nothing more than my regurgitated Facebook statuses. I’m that comitted to being original, oh yes!

Firstly, when ordering parts for your car, wouldn’t you think it would be a good idea to know what car it is? Conversation over the phone with someone this morning went along the lines of:

“I need a CV boot for my Alfa Romeo”
“Ok sir, what Alfa is it?”
“Ah, don’t know. It’s petrol!”
“Do you have a registration or chassis number so I can look up the parts?”
“Uh, don’t know it….”

Only minutes before that I was greeted, in person, by what can only be described as a moron. His went like  this:

“I’ve got a warning light on in my car”
“Ok sir, which warning light is it?”
“Well, I don’t know, it’s not on at the moment”.

Last week I was greeted by this little gem: “Do you sell Alfas, yeah?” Now I would have to think about that one long and hard. There is a huge great Alfa Romeo sign outside the showroom. Lots of Alfa Romeo servicing posters in the windows. Lots of Alfa Romeos outside the showroom. Lots of Alfa Romeos inside the showroom. Lots of Alfa Romeo brochures. Lots more Alfa Romeo signage inside. Quite clearly, then, we are a Toyota dealership.

My favourite one, however, dates back some years. A scooter owner contacting me to get a progress update on his mopedy thing.

“Hello, it’s me, I’m calling about my bike!”
“Ok, you, which bike is yours?”
“Oh, erm, it’s an (insert bike manufacturer here)”
“Very good, sir, we are a (insert bike manufacturer here) dealer and have about 50 of those, which one is yours?”
“The blue one”
“Ok, sir, that narrows it down to 46”
“It’s got red on it as well”
“Ok, that’s 42”
“Got some sport decals on the side”
“Ok, still 42. What did the bike come in for?
“It was broken”
“Ok, so we’re down to 15”
“What is the vehicle registration number?”
“Don’t know”
“What is your name then?”
“And the surname?” and without word of a lie, there was a thirty second pause as if he had to try to think what his name was.

I will update with more when I think of them. Have a nice day!



July 11, 2011 Posted by | Rants | 1 Comment

Another rant… about Bono! Who knew?

Mr B. Ono-Twat

We couldn't spell "Oi'm an overpaid, egotistical wanker" so we made do with "Twat"

Well, not so much a rant as so much a gloat. Imagine my delight / disdain when I turn on my computer this morning and point my web browser in the general direction of the nearest news site, only to be greeted by news stories of Bono. I thought wonderful, I can write another rant on my arch-nemesis. But hold on, for this entry I can take a day off as I have no need to.

It seems the British public will be giving their own views at a summer festival. You see U2 are headlining Glastonbury, God help us all. They were due to headline last year but Bono fell over and hurt his back. However, this year U2’s set may not go according to plan as a bunch of campaigners are planning to hold protests during their set. An activist group called “Art Uncut” plan to demonstrate throughout the band’s set over their decision to move their business affairs to the Netherlands from Ireland.

A spokesman for Art Uncut has said “Bono claims to care about the developing world, but U2 greedily indulges in the very kind of tax avoidance which is crippling the poor nations of this world. We will be showing the very real impact of U2’s tax avoidance on hospitals and schools in Ireland. Anyone watching (the Glastonbury protest) will be very much aware that Bono needs to pay up”.

A spokesman for Bono may have said something, but I lost interest half way through.

A spokesman for the Andrex Extra Soft Blog Roll later commented “Bono is a nauseating, hypocritical, greedy, overpaid, egotistical wanker.”

June 6, 2011 Posted by | Rants | Leave a comment

The zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz Factor

No, that’s not a euphemism for my current lack of sleep due to the arrival of my newborn son last week, although there have been one or two nights like that.

No, it is because I am utterly bored and tired of the mention of Cheryl Colemans Mustard and the American version of that so-called Talent show, so ironically I’m writing about her and it. I tend to not follow celebrity news for very obvious reasons, but especially when it involves a Geordie tart that no one in the US of A has heard of and one that feels the need to half lip-sync a “live” performance. She has, allegedly, been a judge on the UK X Factor. The news was sweet, she’d be shipped over to the US and stay over there, in an ill-advised attempted to yet again judge, allegedly, on the American version and we’d be rid of her and her “Wurth eeit” nonsense.

Imagine my horror when I turn on the news and no matter what is going on in the world, the main news story on Sky and BBC is that Chernobyl Coleman has been booted of the USA Fed-Ex Factor. At first I thought “Oh fuck, that means we have her back” but this was quickly replaced with “I really, really couldn’t give a monkey’s toss” and switched over to another news source. Which had EXACTLY the same news story. And the internet was the same. And don’t get me started on the tabloids.

The reasons surrounding her dismissal from the alleged programme were that none of the Americans could understand her. A friend of mine happened to point out that no one in the UK can understand her either. Other people, and obviously these news sites, claim she was battling depression and had been crying all week. Diddums. Bless. Etc. But answer me this; why in the name of all that is holy are we meant to care so much for a talentless, Geordie chav with no redeeming qualities other than the fact she can sell a few bottles of shampoo? Even that is not particularly redeeming as the self-service robot-a-ma-bob in my local branch of Tesco can also sell me shampoo. The bit that irks me the most is how someone so talentless judges, erm, talent. I hate these “talent” shows anyway, but if you must have a current female popstar as a judge, you need one with a bit of something to back it up. Someone with a bit of talent and prowess. So obviously that rules out Nadine Coyle.

The only one I can genuinely think of is Lady GaGa. Now in all honesty, I wasn’t a big fan to start off with. However, after watching her Monster Ball stage show broadcast and her appearance on Radio 1’s big weekend has totally revised my opinion of her and I really cannot help but be mesmerised. The fact that she rates Iron Maiden and Queen as two of her favourite bands helps. But there really is something about her that I dig, baby, yeah. And by fuck when she tries can she sing. Most of all, she can write, produce, perform and is a multi-instrumentalist. You just need to dig a little deeper beneath the facade. I find her quite fascinating. The only thing fascinating about Cherry Cola is how quickly my imaginary box of golf balls that I like to throw at the television is diminishing. Cheryl, do me one favour – don’t make me run out of golf balls, so stay the fuck off my TV. Why? Because it cost me £350 and, let’s say eeit, it’s wurth eeit, wye aye etc.

June 1, 2011 Posted by | Rants | Leave a comment

Stop the world, I want to leave it. Seriously….

Today’s rant is about irresponsible television. Irresponsible, twattish American television. I’m quite happy to watch most television and there are a great deal of stuff that I will at least attempt to watch. However, when the missus clicked over to something called Toddlers and Tiaras, I shuddered. Just what is good about twattish parents dressing their children up as complete slappers and parading them around? What’s worse it’s then broadcast on television which all in all creates the ultimate sicko paedophile’s fantasy. It’s their dream come true.

Let’s sum it up, it’s a beauty contest where the winner wins money. So basically, if the child is under 10 they’re either dressed like a whore, or dressed like a bloody Barbie doll. All in the name of money and some very, very shallow parents’ ego. I really do think these people who enter children into contests like this don’t deserve to have children. It seems that they are nothing more than trophy-winning trinkets. They are treated like some form of accessory jewellery and as you might have noticed, that annoys the fuck out of me. These parents really do need to take a good hard look at themselves. Since when is dressing a child like a whore to win money acceptable? Fine, be proud of your children as I intend to be proud of my son when he arrives. But this is just wrong on every level.

For fuck sake, there is a “Zero to 12 months” category where they’ve been dressed like Barbie dolls. They’re also being chucked around like a Barbie doll. I would also hazard a guess that if they don’t win, they’d be put in the corner and forgotten about just like a doll. And then there’s a 0-3 years category. Why in the name of all that is holy have they dressed their bloody 2 year old up as if she were going to go out clubbing at the age of 18? Bloody hell’s sake, the child can hardly walk! There are others which are caked up with more make up than Boots could ever supply and wearing stuff worn that even a Camborne girl would reject. Sweet baby fucking Jesus. One example was where a mother was worried about their childs’ skin not looking perfect under the lights. This kid was under a Woods Lamp, a device that looks for impurities in skin. As my wife said “Of course her skin’s ok, she’s fucking 7!” Clearly, this wasn’t good enough because said child was undergoing a full facial treatments, the beautician had shaved her eyebrows and then plastered with fake fucking tan! After which all the child wanted to go was go to bed

These people really take the cake. One particular child which is growing up clearly thinks these pageants are crap. The mother, clearly uninterested in her child’s opinion, actually told her “You used to be good, now you’re the devil”. In a hypothetical world, if I ever met the creator of Toddlers and Tiaras, I’d punch him in the face. Please, stop the world…

April 25, 2011 Posted by | Rants | 1 Comment

Bono rant number, oh fucksticks yet again I’ve lost count.

Mr B. Ono-Twat

Due to Bono not sharing the profits of his tour with anyone, we couldn't afford to have "Massive Twat" tatooed on his forehead...

Yes, that’s it folks, my arch nemesis Bonio is in the news once more. It has emerged that U2 will now hold that finely sought-after record of “Highest grossing tour EVER”. Hmmm. What I have read on the highly informative news site that remain unamed (Yahoo, provided by Sky News), Bono and his bandmates will net a massive £437.5 million when their so-called 360 so-called Tour wraps up in Canada.

[Insert your choice of Paul’s usual expletive phrases here. You may take a while, there’s a lot of them. Please use comment facility below to insert your own. You know you want to]

So, other than wearing stupid glasses, not being able to buy a decent shaving kit, not having written a decent song since 1988 and being a hypocritical, greedy, tax evading twatstick (thankyou Alec for this word), what has Bono ever done for us?

Really, I’m struggling here. I fail to see the relevance of U2 as a band as to me their songs sound pretty much the same. Bono’s whining voice sounds the same. The Edge would be lost without all these stupid effects all over his guitar. I fail to see the relevance of Bono’s existance other than to stick his nose into affairs which don’t concern him. All I do know is next time he wants us to stick our hands in our pockets to pay for some charity cause, all I will remember is the money he’s earnt out of Facebook (see my previous Bono rant) and U2 earning 437.5 million quid from this current tour. And yet another golf ball will be heading in the direction of the TV…

April 9, 2011 Posted by | Rants | 1 Comment

A car that can drive itself and double up as a housewife? That’s crazy talk…

I’ve hidden it well, but as it transpires I am a car enthusiast. A petrolhead. I like nothing more than a beautifully styled, excellent handling car with a big powerful engine. I like to be involved in driving the vehicle and detest stupid options. My ramblings today centre around some of the most absurd options you can specify in a car on sale today.

For example, John Cockfuss, the sales rep for your local company that needs a sales rep can specify his [insert cliché German executive saloon car] with tyre pressure sensors. Oh yes, a sensor within the tyre that sends a signal to the dashboard to let you know if your tyre is flat. Now I have a problem with this. Firstly, the best way to tell if a tyre is flat is to look at it. And if you’re worth your salt as a driver, you should know through the feel of the car if you have a problem with a tyre. Secondly, they are expensive to replace. On certain vehicles, if you need to replace one, you have to replace a set. Which will set you back over £1,000. That’s added to £500 or so it cost initially to have the stupid things added to rep machine in the first place. Seriously, get a 20p piece, go to your local garage and check your tyre pressures every fortnight. It’s a damn site cheaper.

Automatic headlights and wipers are also a cause for concern for me. Concern because if you specify either of these options on your new vehicle, you are basically admitting that you are too stupid to drive. No, really you are. If you cannot see how dark it is to turn on your own headlights and cannot see how wet it is to turn on your own wipers, you need your driving licence rescinded. Quickly. Stick to public transport and do the rest of us a favour. If you really do want automatic headlights and wipers but don’t want to admit you’re stupid, buy a French car. They won’t work properly anyway.

Whilst we’re speaking of French cars, Peugeot Citroen PSA Group cars tend to feature a rather nasty air freshener on the dashboard which rather like a glad spurts blasts of fresh scent into the air. Well, they say fresh scent, more like a rancid aroma more akin to a French factory worker’s sweat gland. Moving to German cars, the new Audi A1 (which looks like an Austin Allegro in side profile) comes with an option called ‘wasabi green air vent sleeves’. What the fuck??? Are you serious?

I’m not a big fan of Bluetooth in cars either. Yes, it is useful for the aforementioned Mr Cockfuss the sales rep with no general purpose. But most of the systems seem to be troublesome and are not compatible with other car manufacturers. Whether Mr Cockfuss could find a use for Volvo’s grocery bag holder (a £105 option!!) remains to be seen.

What also seems to be happening is all the driver aids and driving “modes” appearing in cheaper cars. Some driver aids I do like such as anti-lock brakes – if you’ve done an emergency stop in a car that hasn’t got it and a car that has you’ll know what I mean. In the Alfa Romeo Mito and Giulietta you have the DNA system. It means Dynamic, Normal and All Weather. To me it is nothing more than a marketing gimmick and if anything holds the car back. Normal mode is next to useless and the performance is flat, All Weather is useless unless you’re in the snow. Ditch these two settings and have the car set up properly for optimum driving like in Dynamic mode ALL THE BLOODY TIME! If you want to drive your car in snow, buy a fucking Land Rover. Even something as lowly as a Fiat Panda 100HP which sports nothing more than a basic 1.4 16v engine has a sport button on the dash to decrease power steering assistance and boost the torque and throttle response. I don’t want a button, I want the car to be like that all the time.

I also hate so-called Keyless Go entry systems because they are shite, basically. You don’t have locks on the outside, instead magic happens between the card and sensor in the door and hey presto you can enter the car! In some systems you can do this from a distance. Which means magic happens between your card and sensor in the door and hey presto someone else can enter your car! Renault had a system like this in the Meganes and Lagunas, but this system came equipped with a stick and a white flag. Tell me, what is wrong with putting the key in the ignition and turning it to start a car rather than fannying about with a fancy card system, waiting for it to load, then having to put your foot on the brake and/or clutch pedal then press a button? It’s utter bollocks I tell thee!

Electronic boot releases annoy the hell out of me aswell. For instance, on my Fiat Stilo, the electronic boot release, complete lighting system, wiper functions, radio system  and anti theft system amongst other things run through something called a body computer. Which is linked into a wiring system called CAN network. Now if anyone of these functions fail, it could be down to this particular device, which is about £600 to replace. When the car is 10 years old it won’t be viable for units like this to be replaced as it will outweigh the value of the car. Really, what is wrong with a button and lock on the boot, or the good old-fashioned cable and lever system on the floor?

Electric power steering is a fantastic fuel saving idea. Theoretically. The truth behind it is there is less feel and driver feedback through an electric set up than through a traditional hydraulic set up. It can also be a lot more costly to repair when it inevitably packs up. Some units alone can be in excess of £1500 to replace. I’m not saying hydraulic units are free from failure but generally work out a lot cheaper to repair.

Manual gearboxes with electronic clutch mechanisms (a cut price automatic, basically) do my nut in also. But I’ve written so much about that being fitted to ‘Er Indoors’ Corsa that I’m bored of that…

April 5, 2011 Posted by | Motoring, Rants | Leave a comment

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