Friday, August 03, 2007

Hello Everyone, I'm A Shit Blogger

No excuses. I didn't realise they were putting a link to this in every issue of LeftLion. Shall we do a quick catch-up and forget this ever happened?

February 1st

Violent pissheaded Australian bit of rough Russell Crowe will play the Sheriff of Nottingham in another film about Robin Hood, it is announced. It’s bound to be cack, so we’ll say no more about it.

February 5th

Heroin addicts in Nottingham shit themselves even more than usual over the appearance of an extra-strong batch of Zammo-powder in the city that kills two of them.

February 7th

According to Home Office figures, violent attacks in Nottingham Prison have increased tenfold over the past ten years. They didn’t say anything about bumming, sorry.

February 8th

Plans for a 100-metre high tower bestraddling Viccy Embankment like a environmentally-friendly Colossus are announced, featuring wind turbines, an energy learning centre and a skate park. Hopefully, someone will work out how to harness the power of middle-class kids falling off skateboards.

February 9th

In order to save time when writing this, all I have to do is press Alt-Shift-Ctrl-F2 at the same time and the phrase ‘There’s been a shooting in St Anns’ pops up.

February 12th

The Police announce that drink-related violent offences have dropped by 20% in the city centre. Latest figures from the Market Square beat reveal that – hang on a minute…MOST OF THAT’S BEEN A BLEDDY BUILDING SITE FOR THE LAST TWO YEARS! In other news, office stationary theft at the World Trade Centre has dropped off considerably since 2001.

February 16th

Two scab-bags in Bulwell rob a local shop after threatening customers and staff with a sword. God knows what’ll happen there when someone discovers gunpowder. The youths were described as wearing ‘sports clothing’, which narrows it down to 50,000 or so people. The static coming off those Lonsdale tracky tops could electrify a Tescos.

February 19th

Teenagers from Notts get sent to Belfast to learn how to resolve violent conflict. So if you start seeing big murals of 50 Cent on the sides of houses in the Meadows and pipe bands up and down Bestwood, you’ll know why.

March 5th

More mithering over the two new tram lines that should have been built ages ago to Clifton, Chilwell and Beeston. Sigh.

March 6th

A Broxtowe woman is found guilty of receiving stolen goods – an entire kitchen nicked from the house across the road, whipped by an ex-boyfriend with a very large holdall and fitted while she was – ahem - bathing her kids. Hey, happens to me all the time – I curled one off this morning only to discover an entire marble bathroom suite that wasn’t there before.

March 7th

The council announces that Princess Anne will open the Market Square on April 3rd, but doesn’t actually say what she’ll be doing. Will she have the inaugural slash in the Square? Will she punch the Lord Mayor in the face in the official first fight by the Lions? There’s also going to be loads of concerts by people like dezzie tramp band The Magic Numbers and some other people I can’t be bothered to look up.

March 8th

Newark MP Patrick Mercer is forced to quit his role as Shadow homeland security spokesman (the chocolate teapot of the political realm) after stating in an interview that he’d met ‘a lot’ of ‘idle and useless’ ethnic minority soldiers who used racism as a ‘cover’, before being defended by the usual shower of racist drippings off a dog’s bell-end.

March 9th

A 17 year-old lad is stabbed to death in Nottingham, but the national media are too busy wringing their shit-encrusted hands over the stabbings in London to notice.

March 12th

The big local derby between Notts County and Mansfield – imagine Barcelona v Real Madrid, but made out of Lego – passes without incident. Or goals.

March 13th

The burglary rate in Nottingham has dropped to its lowest level for seven years. In 40 years time, you’ll be telling your grandchildren about those golden days in 2007 when you could leave your fifth door lock on the snick.

March 14th

Police step up patrols in a crackdown on Bulwell mouth-breathers who throw stones at the trams and leave branches on the line, as if it was a big metal snake that was going to decimate their crops of industrial-strength hydroponic skunk and devour the local virgin.

March 15th

A divvy local solicitor admits attempting to smuggle weed into the local magistrate’s court for a crim on – guess what? - a drugs offence. Thank God she wasn’t defending a TWOCer, if you know what I mean I think you do.

March 16th

After weeks of voting, it is announced that the token Notts band in the opening of the Market Square is Captain Dangerous, because they have more mates than anyone else.

March 17th

Nottingham city centre reeks of Tory, as David Cameron and the other ones no-one put a name to pretend to be a unified party on the cusp of power. See you next time there’s a General Election, chaps – oh, hang on, we won’t, because you never win owt round here unless your name’s Kenneth Clarke.

April 3rd

Princess Anne officially opens Nottingham’s most popular Emo crèche and place for people to fall off skateboards, The Newer Than It Was Before Old Market Square. Presumably by smashing a bottle of washing-up liquid against the side of the fountain and blessing all who vomit in her. It turns out to be a slightly lighter grey.

April 5th

Some bell-end burns down a mosque in Forest Fields. Seeing as it’s a converted church, that’s two deities someone has managed to piss off in one go. Why didn’t they just graffiti ‘BUDDHA SUCKS HIS MAM’ on the wall and go for the hat-trick?

April 6th

Wollaton Hall completes a £9M facelift, but God knows what they’ve spent the money on. There’s no loft extension, double-glazing, or even a nice fascia. Rubbish.

April 10th

Sneinton Market goes up in flames, damaging seven shops. Police estimate that local businesses have lost up to £7.31, and are anxious to trace two youths who were spotted on CCTV rubbing Lonsdale trackie tops together.

April 14th

165 people dressed up as Robin Hood at Nottingham Not-Really-A-Castle-When You-Think-About-It and set a world record for, well, most people dressed up as Robin Hood. Obviously. The Guinness Book of Records adjudicators move on to Mansfield later that day to judge an attempt on the ‘most people dressed like the peasants in Robin Hood films’ record.

April 19th

Six new talking CCTV cameras are unveiled in town, specially modified to tackle anti-social behaviour. In St Anns, Hyson Green and Sneinton, a robot sucks its teet’ and calls you a ‘Dezzeh Waste Man’ when you drop a fag on the floor, while one in Hockley has been programmed to laugh at anyone holding a TK Maxx bag.

April 25th

Some more greedy city-rapists launch another bid to turn Nottingham into the Happy Shopper Las Vegas, with an attempt to build Europe’s largest poker (which, as we all know, is five-card brag for the sort of gibbon who believes everything they read in FHM) club. “We will be making Nottingham one of the world’s largest poker centres” says somebody in a suit, as if that was summat to brag about.

April 27th

According to the Home Office, crime in Nottingham dropped last year by 9%. Well done, everybody. Meanwhile, a security guard gets stabbed in the leg on Clumber Street, which is trumpeted again as Europe’s busiest shopping thoroughfare (translation: “it’s really badly designed, and has loads of trainer shops and a McDonalds”).

April 28th

There’s a massive fight at a wake in a pub in Clifton. At one point, John Wayne and another American actor with a ludicrous Irish accent are seen punching each other in the face and throwing each other in the Trent, before having a good old laugh about it and having a pint.

May 4th

The citizens of Nottingham stop writing whining letters to the Post that blame ‘Nu Labour’ for everything that has gone wrong in their pointless, pointless lives and wreak revenge on the Council in the local elections by, erm, increasing their majority by four seats. Meanwhile, enough people in Broxtowe scared about someone from Poland taking the benefits owed to them for sitting on their fat arses watching Trisha manage to stand upright long enough to vote in a BNP councillor.

May 5th

Notts County end a better-than-last-year-but-still-desperately-cack-season by helping Macclesfield stay up in Division Four.

May 13th

Nottingham’s spoon crime problem rears its ugly head once more as the Phantom Fork-Flinger himself, Chris Tarrant, chucks some cutlery at a bloke in Memsaab and is arrested by four coppers in flak jackets. “But why didn’t he go to 4550 Miles From Delhi?” says the entire population of Nottingham.

May 18th

Notts County and Mansfield supporters behave like that Palestinian woman with the Deirdre glasses on September 11th 2001, as fucking rubbish useless bag-o’-shite Forest let in five goals at home to Fred West’s extended family, because they’re shit. Nottinghamshire football sucks a dog’s arse, doesn’t it?

June 1st

Clumber Street – the Universe’s Busiest Shopping Thoroughfare, remember – is cordoned off for a bit when some bint sprays an unknown substance (probably some perfume she bought off the street for a fiver called ‘Tommy Highflyer’ or summat) in the O2 shop. Two people are treated in the QMC for nausea and vomiting, but then again they could have just caught the stench from McDonalds whilst looking at some rank Nike trainers in the Foot Locker window.

June 5th

Someone in Hollywood lifts his face from a pile of cocaine long enough to announce that the latest Robin Hood film will be called Nottingham. For some reason, my suggestion – Another Shit Movie With Loads Of Ponce Actors Mincing About In Tights With Cockney Accents – seems to have been lost in the post.

June 9th

Aldi in Hucknall is raided by a gang of robbers who make off with bags of cash. If they’d have been really shrewd, they could have nicked loads of welding masks for a fiver each, or 500 tins of squid in tomato sauce.

June 17th

Someone throws a petrol bomb into a kebab shop on Mansfield Road. If they really wanted to shut the business down, they would have been a lot smarter and chucked in one of those scary tramps that always hassle you for fags and bus fare to non-existent homes in Bulwell when you’re on your way to the Fleece.

June 18th

The New Old Market Square gets knackered up already when the water feature starts leaking like a fat bird in the doorway of Debenhams. Incidentally, it’s crap, isn’t it? Back in the day, all you had to do was empty 300ml of Squezy in the fountain. Now you have to stand there for ages, trying to get a dribble of water into a bottle of Head and Shoulders. Rubbish.

June 20th

The heads of Notts County fans finally explode with laughter like that scene in Scanners, when Nottingham Forest put a £50m cart before a Third Division horse by announcing plans to move out of the City Ground to a purpose-built soulless identikit stadium in Clifton that looks like a massive bog with a red toilet seat, in order to win the right to host Potatovia v The People’s Republic of Macaroon and two other games in a 2018 World Cup that England have no chance of winning anyway because the FA couldn’t even organise a fight in the Thurland, the stupid, stupid, stupid bell-ends. It’ll make a great venue for that local derby with Hucknall Town in the Conference North next decade.

June 26th

Bar Humbug finally retains the right to allow skint students to get their tits out to What’s Love Got To Do With It by Tina Turner in front of office boys who are too scared to go to Forest Road. But not before 9pm on weekdays, because that’s when the kids are safely tucked up in a pub round the Square.

July 3rd

The Nottingham Arts Centre – (which gave the world Mother Nottingham herself, Su Pollard) announces it will be shutting down for the want of £65,000. Never mind – before too long, we’ll be getting a new multi-million Arts Centre that local people won’t use either.

July 5th

The Council announce plans to slap a £350 per year price tag on parking in town, which will cost more than most people’s cars. By 2014, it’ll be cheaper to buy a car out of the Post, leave it at work and buy another one the next week.

July 11th

The Warehouse Love Zoo, nee Cuba Libre, gives up its licence after the police come down on it for being the site of a stabbing. And having an incredibly rammell new name that makes it sound like an early 90s Channel 4 Yoof programme hosted by Hufty, or whatever she was called. Meanwhile, Viccy Centre is shut down for a bit when a suspect package is discovered in the car park. Probably something tasteful and not from a chain shop.

July 13th

A spate of skip and wheelie bin fires sweeps through Arnold, which could be construed as evidence of Satanic ritual-killings, if they could find any virgins knocking about there.

July 16th

A kid from the Meadows gets a life sentence for shooting another kid from the Meadows, in the Meadows, while they were playing at drug dealers.

July 17th

A bell-end from Basford who has evidently watched Shogun Assassin far too many times attacks someone on the tram with a meat cleaver secreted in a baby’s pushchair, with the assistance of his minging missus and some other twat. The police are still examining the pushchair for blades hidden in the wheels or samurai swords secreted in the handle.

July 18th

One third of our student population are given a roll of paper and told to piss off and get a job at Capital One. It’s reassuring to think that the last time you ever see people who have blighted The Social for the last three years with their show-off haircuts and braying opinions about fuck all, they’re invariably sitting in the window of the Cornerhouse Pizza Hut with Mummy and Daddy looking like absolute spanners.

July 19th

The (other) Colin Gunn trial begins, with allegations of paying off bent detectives a-plenty. Reassuringly, it is revealed that, when not creating a smokescreen over the Stirland murder hunt, said bent copper is using the police database to check up on the activities of his missus. Just one phone call to Trisha, and none of this palaver would have happened. Meanwhile, Meadows Shitbag 1 and Meadows Shitbag 2 have their appeals over the murder of Danielle Beccan rubber-stamped with the words; “NO, MATE”. Oh, and Notts Police is ranked joint-worst performing in the country along with Manchester.

July 20th

If you’re in town and you want some water, tough shit; a mains pipe bursts in Parliament Street, rendering the City Centre devoid of water. Mind you, you could have left a skip out, because it’s been pissing it down all summer, because even God hates this miserable country nowadays. Sulk.

July 21st

Ilkeston Council announce plans to spend shitloads of money to reopen the local swimming pool. Plans to spend even more money to improve the gene pool remain unannounced.

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