Tag Archives: Culture

The Case For & Against Tattoos

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Tattoos… you either love or hate ’em it seems. Maybe it seemed a good idea when you were drunk to have a ‘W’ tattooed on each butt-cheek so that when you bend over it reads ‘WOW’ but the chances are that you’re not so sure in the cold light of day. And is it ever a good idea to permanently mark your skin with the name of a partner, because you’re so in love? Get a puppy or something! Then once you split up it will be a comfort to whoever is left as its owner. But it won’t last forever to remind you of your sad mistake.

It’s not that I don’t understand the attraction of having a really unique, well designed tattoo. Hell, I even understand (kind of) that some people may get off on the pain of the needle. And clearly, many people love the attention that their tattoos give them. Why else would you tattoo a teardrop on your face? Oh right, to show that you are sensitive? Aah, bless your little cotton socks. Continue reading →

Why Be a Fashion Victim?

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I’m frequently amazed at how some people are so desperate to keep up with fashion trends that they will adopt pretty much any style in an effort to look cool. Even if that paradoxically means looking ridiculous. Who would have thought that mullets could ever be a wise choice of hairstyle? For those men who can’t decide whether to have short or long hair, so choose both at the same time. And what’s with the 1980s obsession recently in UK fashion? I’m just about old enough to remember that I hated that decade the first time around.

I’m not a fan of all the animal-print designs that girls are currently wearing. Last time I went out for a drink, there were so many leopard prints and zebra prints on display that I thought I’d walked in to a game reserve! These same girls would undoubtedly have laughed a couple of years ago if you had suggested they would ever dress like big cats.

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How I Beat Consecotaleophobia

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Consecotaleophobia is a problem that is not be sniffed at and there is no need to suffer in silence. It is just as serious as arithmophobia (fear of numbers), syngenesophobia (fear of relatives – depends on your family, I guess), but maybe more serious than hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia (fear of long words) or phobophobia (fear of phobias). Am I the only person who cringes at the thought of visiting a Chinese or Japanese restaurant and having to use chopsticks? I’m a lover of new inventions and, in my mind, a knife and fork are inventions that should supersede chopsticks. It’s the natural evolution, just like VHS – DVD – Blu-ray – 3D. Sure, our oriental friends gave it a good go, but how the hell am I supposed to learn how to use sticks to eat with before my food goes cold? How come other people can use those things? They must have practiced in their own time damn it, they’re just showing off. Continue reading →

I Celebrate My Inner Man-Child

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“In every real man a child is hidden that wants to play” said Friedrich Nietzsche, the German philosopher. Amen to that brother. I’ve been accused of failing to act my age or be responsible, yet in my mind, the people that say this are often jaded with life, unhappy with the choices that they’ve made and jealous of my marriage-free, child-free, debt-free, er… freedom. I’m certainly not anti-those things and I can’t help it if I find it impossible to see a space hopper and not bounce around the garden on it. Admittedly though, it’s probably wrong to push my niece and nephew out of the way to get to it first. I’m much bigger and should control my excitement, but space hoppers are ace. I still can’t resist kicking my way through fallen leaves and I’m still fascinated by insects and snails – some species can actually mate with themselves! If I was a snail, I think I’d have a large family… Continue reading →

In Defence of Axl Rose

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Guns n’ Roses live at the O2 Arena in London

Germany’s greatest Guns n’ Roses funky it read on the back of a man’s leather jacket. Hmm… I’m sure you are mein freund. The return of Guns n’ Roses to London had been a long time coming and the previous dates on the tour had met with enough criticism for me to expect the worst at the second of their two O2 Arena shows last night. What initially had been an interesting night for people-watching – some hardcore GnR fans crank the eccentricity (or ‘funky’ if you’re German) up to ‘11’ – eventually descended into a test of drunken endurance as the entire evening last for five hours, meaning that anyone who stayed until the end missed the last tube and last Thames Clipper boat and had to show an ankle to get a taxi to stop or risk queuing for hours. Continue reading →

Office Lockdown, Men in Gowns & Beans on Toast

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The Pope’s London Visit

The 'mohawk' is a popular hairstyle in The Vatican

I work next to Westminster Abbey so I’m well used to staring at visiting dignitaries who are attending memorial services through the windows and from the balcony of our office. Yet the London visit of Pope Benedict XVI to the Abbey today was unlike anything I’ve seen before. The preparations started on Monday when the crowd barriers were put in place along a stretch of road, only for the workmen to realise that they were all facing the wrong way and had to be turned around, much to my amusement! On this day I also saw an old woman decked out in a pope photo t-shirt, carrying a pope photo bag to match. God knows where she was going [bad pun, I know].

There was also a large double-tiered gantry built for photographers and TV crews opposite the Abbey and a makeshift TV studio built on the roof of the enormous Methodist hall. Continue reading →

An Audience With Mr Nice

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Review of Howard Marks – Live at Greenwich Comedy Festival, London

Do you know the best way to avoid being caught at customs searches? Lion shit. So says Howard Marks, the legendary Welsh don of dope smokers who used the moniker ‘Mr Nice’ in his smuggling days in the 1980s, when he was Britain’s most wanted fugitive. All you have to do apparently, is weigh up an ounce of a lion’s finest and wrap it neatly in a concealed part of your luggage. If you are caught, it diverts attention away from your real stash, hidden internally, and if you are searched by a sniffer dog, the poor mutt takes one sniff and runs for the hills to the bemusement of its trainer. It also freaks out police horses if you are planning a demonstration, as were commonplace for Marks in the Vietnam-era 1970s. Throw some of that and the horse flees with its rider hanging off fearing for his life. Nothing illegal about carry lion shit with you! And it’s easy to come by – Marks used to buy a sackful for £3 from Dudley Zoo. Continue reading →