Tuesday 30 June 2009


These guys are missing somewhere off the West Australian coast. I hope these boys are OK and find their way back on course. Rowing across the Indian ocean is no easy task! Find out more about their trip from here.

Monday 29 June 2009

I hate to say I told you so, but now people are reckoning there are 45,000 cases of swine flu in the UK. 

So today Bernie Madoff got sent down for 150 years of porridge. He's stolen billions of dollars/pounds/euros of people's savings and lost them all (although I'm not really sure where it's ALL gone), so he deserves it right?

Well, erm, maybe.

He's not taken a life, just taken people's savings and crippled some individuals financially. Just like companies are doing across the world as they go bankrupt. They are no longer threatened with jail. To rub salt in the would, three young men who stabbed a 16 year old boy to death have been given initial 19 year sentences ("life"). So where is the parity in that? 150 years for a large scale thief, and a collective 57 for three cold-blooded murderers. Hmm, something's not adding up there.

Sadly, Bernard Madoff has been a scapegoat for the world's anger, and as usual the media spotlight probably put 100 years on his sentence. Either way he'll die behind locked doors. I would say bars, but I highly highly doubt the abrasive nature of the prison charged with holding him.
"If you hold a shell-suit to your ear, you can hear Romford"

Sunday 28 June 2009

I'm about to embark on a new world - car booting. I've managed, over the last decade, to accumulate the most astonishing amount of crap, and apparently (adapting a well known phrase), one man's crap is another man's treasure. I could put it in a dump or hand it to a charity shop, and I will do that to all the stuff that's left over, but if I can make a few quid in the process then that's great.

What I've heard are basically horror stories; people banging on your windows and peering in the boot before you've even switched your engine off, like monkeys at a safari park. Aggressive haggling. Territory fights. General savagery.

I don't mind submerging myself into the underclass for a few hours on a Sunday morning, as long as it's fruitful. I may even see it as an undercover report like a Donald MacIntyre or Roger Cook and report back here. Wish me luck.

Monday 15 June 2009

"Choose life, choose a job, choose a career, choose a family, choose a fucking big television. Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortgage repayments, choose a starter home, choose your friends. Choose leisure-wear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suite and higher purchase and a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you've spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future"
- Renton


Raises a few decent issues there.

Sunday 14 June 2009


Picture the scene: 30 minutes into the Set and I'm playing well, my errors are down and my cross court shots proving deadly point after point. I mop my brow, bounce the ball on the base-line ready to start my service game and think to myself "Not bad Ben". Only I, and this is really embarrassing, could fight my way to a 4-0 game advantage, to then lose the Set 4-6. 

Totally and utterly ridiculous.

Friday 12 June 2009

Ever seen the Final Destination films? This is spooky.

An uncomfortable coincidence, the odds are outrageous, but I suppose what happens happens and there isn't a lot you can do about it sometimes. I've never believed in fate though, only that sometimes negative things happen for a reason which can open doors for improved situations down the road. That doesn't apply in this instance, so sweeps the rug from under its feet. Fate terrifies me, I need to be in control, have options to then make decisions (with either head or heart, wrong or right).
Some of the Summer Ball photos, as you can see they get progressively worse as more alcohol is consumed. Standard.