Sepptoe And Son.

Mr Sepp Blatter you an old idiotic man, a senile fool. Just like all people of your outrageous age, you have lost all your marbles and spout strange bizarre statements which make no sense other than to your addled mind.

You have also become fat in your hideous old age and look horrible when sitting down in a seat that sinks horribly low when you plonk your huge arse into it.

I am sure when you take your hot chocolate to bed at night you hope for a long peaceful sleep. But of course that is never going to happen because of your aged bladder which sees you having to get up countless times at night. Also as you have little control over your bodily functions, most of your piss ends up running down your leg. This explains why as an old person you smell of it as you go about your confused business by day.

You are also a dirty old man in mind too. Ogling over the nubile lady football players who at your behest should be wearing oh so tight tops and shorty shorts so that you can see as much shape as possible. Sadly due to your obscene age, none of this helps you to get it up as it lays there in a shrivelled state.

However you are confident in your sexuality and are always alert for anyone who might be slightly queer and likely to break out into rampant sex at any opportunity. You of course keep you hands behind your back so not to be taken by surprise at any moment and keep you cataract prone eyes on them at all times if they look a bit iffy.

I could of course bring up how you like all them black people so much as well as I state my case, but like all old people given power like you that they really don't have a clue what to do with it, you continue to make that solid case on your own. This is of course when you are not busy storing all them brown envelopes in that cupboard of yours.

We can all look on the bright side though and see that you will soon be dead, I mean what are you now? 95?


I mean no disrespect with the above piece. It was written in the heat of my writing my blog and these things occur when tensions are high. It means nothing at all and will of course all be forgotten when I get to shake your calloused hand...

My New Best Friends.

I would like to introduce you all to my new best friends, they are Dave and Angela Dawes.

They don't know that I am their best friend yet as I am only just writing a letter to introduce myself, but why on earth would they not like to be my friend?

I have so much to offer them with my sparkly personality, and I mean what do they have to offer me from their lives? I mean what could possibly be interesting from them winning £101 million?

For brightening their lives up, I would be happy to take a few pounds of holiday, house and fast moving sports car from them. They are the ones in the win win situation here with me as their friend.

And of course they are going to need some help to get the weight of that money out of their bank accounts. That kind of money is an uncontrollable force, creating over £10,000 interest a day, and I am more than happy to help them control it. Only a premiership footballer would be unhappy with that kind of money.

So, I appeal directly to my new friends. Counteract all those nasty negative newspaper headlines that you are already getting and present a wad of that money to a complete stranger, and of course that complete stranger needs to be me, as your new bestest, bestest buddy...

Trouble At Farm.

So the battle for Dale Farm begins. Like some apocalyptic battle from the movies and on a film budget the bailiffs move in to rid the evil from the green belt.

Pretty much everyone has a side on this, there is no one sitting on the fence on this. Especially as they don't have planning permission to sit there.

And planning permission is the main point with all this, the travellers on the illegal site reckon that they are being persecuted, akin to Jews during the war. Failing to see the point that if they are decent law abiding citizens like they keep telling us they are they would not have built illegally in the first place. It also seems to be the case that these travellers are now like W.H. Smith's and have become stationers.

So for all their kind heartedness that the travellers proclaim, they are more than happy to live in a illegal building, and watch as eighteen million pound is spent at council tax payers expense. That is the way to get onside with the public ain't it. They are at this time their own worst enemies.

Then you have rent a mob who now apparently out number the illegal travellers on site. People that are apparently onside with all these, unless their neighbour was to start building some monster of a building in their back yard and then they might see what the travellers are doing in a different light.

However I am sure it will all end happily in the end with bits of body strewn across the farm and a military airstrike to end the battle.

In the meantime I think the builder who is erecting a ten floor block of flats in my garden to make me a bit of money wants another cup of tea, so I shall have to depart now.

Misty The Cat: The End.

A Small Mind is today in pieces as he said a fond farewell to Misty after fourteen and a half years.

Now as you all know a small mind is one tough guy, a man. However he has to admit that today he cried, more than he has ever cried before. No humans death, no matter how close, has made him cry more. And I have to wonder why? Why is it that some of us share such a bond with our animals?

I think perhaps that generally they are pretty much always on your side. No matter how much love you get from a human, there is always going to be the bad days. Animals however just give and give, even when some people do such horrific things to them, they always still seem happy. You see these miserable sights of animals having been treated so cruelly and yet they still want attention and fuss.

Humans however very much have moods and there is always a bad day. Animals may well get grumpy, but it never impacts on their love for their owner and that is probably why some people get on better with their pets than their relations.

So the end of an era for a small mind as old Misty moves on and I am left to remember the good days. Farewell puss.

Track And Field Of Nightmares.

Yesterday saw the end of the World Athletics Championships and hopefully the end of Channel 4 involvement. What once was a solid presentation with little irritation from the BBC was supposedly given a hip new face of the future.

This turned out to be a unmitigated disaster with a succession of helpless individuals presenting, commentating and doing whatever.

A small mind was thankful to only have seen the highlights presentation, but he is very thankful even for this. Presented by a man with the presence and vitality of a cardboard cutout Rick Edwards was a horror in vision. Presenting in a monotone to camera with the dregs of so-called witty comments. Channel 4 must have realised their mistake as as the week went on we saw less and less of the failure and interestingly more highlights. It might catch on.

As for the highlights, the sport was good the presentation less so. First we had John Rawling commenting, commenter of all sports, master of none. Rob Walker, once a compere at the snooker and now an expert on athletics who failed to get to the end of any race with his voice still working, and then a succession of those in the know, former sports stars. Dean Macy, Ewan Thomas and Katherine Merry, good on the track and field (well so-so), but a dreary presence in the commentary box. The only fly in the ointment for Channel 4 in having a total disaster was Michael Johnson, an insightful person with interesting things to say and the only true survivor from the BBC presentation. He must have wondered what godforsaken planet he had landed on having to shake Dick, sorry Rick Edwards hand at the end of every highlights show.

So all this without even mentioning the one disaster Channel 4 were happy to admit to, letting Gadget Show presenter Ortis Deley in front of a live camera and an autocue that was apparently unreadable.

What about the sport though you cry, well not bad, a few miserable failures as always for Britain, and not a lot boding well for 2012, but well done to Dai Green, Hannah England, Jessica Ennis, Mo Farah and all the others that Ortis has forgotten...

Here some kind soul has made a video of good old Ortis, poor lad. Get back behind Suzi and Jason dear before its too late...

Another Brick In The Wall.

So another year of GCSE results arrive and once again an increase in passes occurs. The twenty-third year in a row in fact. So we live in an age of super intelligence with the world at the young peoples feet.

Or maybe not. Lack of jobs with an increase in qualification now means these results are not worth the paper they are printed on. It matters not if you have 47 A* GCSE passes or are now the holder of a first in Tentradoodlydadumolgy the chances of getting a job are severely reduced. Therefore with tuition fees rising to the stratosphere it is likely the future shall see less of the education and more of attempting to move straight into work as a career.

This has already hit home with those finishing their A levels mostly heading straight to university and missing (THE HORROR!) their gap year, when supposedly they do worthy or life affirming things, rather than having a good old jolly wandering around the world. Is that the sound of baying, pitchfork wielding students at the door?

However, passes are way up, and the youth of today are infinitely more intelligent than poor old Small Mind, who failed miserably at GSCE and managed a high of just a C so is therefore less intelligent than all people younger than him.

Therefore as an official (but not currently abroad) idiot I perhaps shall no longer preach about anything and shall slope off and go rioting like the rest of us neanderthals...

Oh Brother, Who Art Thou?

What do these people have in common?
Tara Reid, Sally Bercow, Jedward, Kerry Katona, Lucien Laviscount, Bobby Sabel, Darryn Lyons, Amy Childs, Paddy Doherty and Pamela from Baywatch.
The answer: they are all celebrities. Yeah, right...

So here we are again just ten seconds after the Big Brother house was axed forever, it is back, on Channel 5. No screaming Davina though, just Brian "not famous at all, just happened to win this programme and may as well do as hosting this god forsaken programme" Dowling.

So in no particular order let't look at the freaks, I mean "celebrities".

Tabloid explosion Kerry Katona was always going to be in their from the start seemingly, a cheap version of the out of control and never ever ever ever going to be in their Charlie Sheen. Dropped into the house purely to cause controversy as is the want of this hideous show.

Now Darryn Lyons, obviously no one has heard of simply because even in the outer extremities of celebrity he doesn't exist. Reason being because he takes god damn pictures of them celebrities. I mean what the hell?

Lucien Laviscount, nope no idea *wanders off to Google (other search engines are available, but don't bother using them)* Now, I think Google is not sure who he is either, such is the horror of these celebs. However he is a superstar of Waterloo Road and Coronation Street (who isn't?) apparently, so all is good.

Now Paddy Doherty and Amy Childs I shall deal with together simply because it will get them over with quicker. Much is the increasing horror of television is that you now become a celebrity because you have been on another reality show and here we have two more entities from such shows. Nobodies who should never have been anybody and now like Amy, they are even coming from reality shows which are not even reality shows. Where will it end? I have no idea, but I hope I ain't there when it does.

Bobby Sabel, nope no idea and this time can't be bothered to Google.

Jedward! Please god NO! However sadly yes. Famous for less than nothing and that is overstating the case.

Tara Reid. There to no doubt reveal the surgically enhanced chest area.

Now while talking about chests, we have Pamela from Baywatch!. But no, not the Pamela from Baywatch. This Pamela from Baywatch was in fourteen episodes and is the former wife of the Hoff. I mean fourteen episodes, if I had fell asleep on the beach among the bouncing breasts I would have been in more episodes.

Finally, thank god, we have Sally Bercow, the publicity seeking wife of the speaker of the house. All we can hope for is that she gets all dirty on the infra-red cameras and the old man stands up in the house and shouts "ORGY! ORGY!"

However, there we have it a collection of celebs who are no doubt less famous that those incoming ones to the "normal" Big Brother will become.

As a side note to Channel 5, no live feed I see. Not really Big Brother is it when all you have is carefully edited highlights that the producer wants you to see.

Time to bulldoze the place with the creatures still in their...