A VERY HOTSTAXXX WELCOME


If you're looking for funny clips look for 'Hotsketches' on the archive list on the left. 4 Hotsketches up at the moment.

Blog 14#: Post Coital Cooking
Blog 13#: Tiddles Doesn't Catch a Fly
Blog 7#: Drunk Cooking
Blog 1#: Break up cooking

Saturday, 22 August 2009

Sunday, 9 August 2009

Blog 12#: Anglophobia!!!








As I sit here writing this for you, there is a spider looming menacingly directly above my head. Really, I want to write about a debate I've been having regarding spelling and grammar but my brain won't stop showing me re-runs of that scene from Trainspotting where the nightmarish baby crawls across the ceiling towards the hallucinating Mark Renton, does a wee head 180* and drops onto his screaming face.

I've got no reason to suspect this spider is going to just drop onto my head while I'm typing and eat my brains. Never once have I seen a spider or an insect get a bit casual and lose their grip and even if it did want to eat my brains, I'm well harder than a spider - I'm thousands of times its size, I'd break his legs - all of them - in fact I wouldn't be able to break them because I'd squash them. I'm that much harder than a spider.
There is no reason to be afraid, but I am. Similarly, there is no reason to be afraid of the English language, but I am. Everyone seems to know it so much better than me. Like the Spider, it is beautiful & complex, the product of centuries of evolution & development, but it weaves one bastard of a sticky web and if you get caught up in it, that spider will quite impassionately eat you alive.

'The DVLA are licensed to grant you a driving licence'

In Blog 9#: Tv Presenter or Rabies Ridden Axe Murderer, I used the sentence: "Certainly sir, do you have a valid driving licence?"... little did I know, but I had just flown straight into a web. A good friend of mine mentioned that Licence, is actually spelt, License. After a bit of debate with my dad and a scour through the Oxford English Dictionary, I discovered that when used as a noun it's Licence, but as an adjective, it's License.
I'm not smug that I spelt the word licence correctly (why would you be?) I'm actually pissed off. Why do we have two spellings for this word? There is no chance of any ambiguity.

"Excuse me sir, can I see your Licence?"
"Oh, I'm all confused officer, do you mean licence as a noun or in an adjective sense?"
"Do you have a valid licence, sir?"
"Do you mean, am I licensed to drive this car? or do I have an actual certificate with the words Driving licence on it?"
"Stop being a prick sir, there is NO AMBIGIOUS MEANING!" - Bosh! Truncheon right in the chops.

It wouldn't be so bad if it was just a couple of words, but it's not. The language spider must have had a joint clamped between his antenna when it silked up the blueprints for this one. There are a catalogue of rules (or old posh lies, as I call them) which are a mixture of bizarre, unhelpful or just plain not true.

'i before e except after c' - a helpful rule providing you're not trying to spell science, weird, weight, neighbour etc, etc

Also, I'm sure at school I was told that 'ize' is the American spelling - no it bloody isn't! Recognize is in the Oxford English dictionary with recognise in Brackets next to it! - I know you don't believe me but go look - http://www.askoxford.com/betterwriting/us/?view=uk

Our laguage has been violently raped into us by Vikings, Saxons, Jutes, the Church, it is ancient, it's is modern, it is Latin, it is indo-European. There are more exceptions to the rules than there are when playing poker with pirates. Yet there are people out there who actually fly into a rage when it is adapted or used 'incorrectly'.

Don't misunderstand me, I know that 'correct' spelling and grammar are of course important but surely only as a tool to aid mass communication. The rules we abide by are complete happenstance and will be as different in 500 years time as they were 500 years ago. If the convention gets in the way of communicating with the majority, surely it should go? I mean, it's not like we're trying to keep people in their place is it?... ah.

There are actually those out there who believe that a body of writing which suffers from poor spelling and grammar is automatically invalid! (*sniff, sniff can anyone smell ignorance being pointed out by the ignorant?). There are letters written in the very hand of Queen Victoria herself with spelling all over the place - sometimes even spelling the same word differently at a whim ("F*ck awff, I'm the effing Queen").

It's just convention - surely we have to dust off the cobwebs? If language didn't evolve then we would be no better than Cavemen. The Houses of Parliament would be called the Uggugs ugg Ug-a-ugg, the Eiffel tower would be called the Uggel Ugg and would just be a huge phallic Fred Flintstone style club and you wouldn't even be able to talk about Shakespeare's Henry VIII without smashing a boulder off your missis's noggin eight times.

I am fully aware that someone right now, may be crawling all over this blog in search of mistakes. Good. I hope you're having more fun than Carol Vordamen on crack having sex with a man with a really hard sudoku puzzle book for a head. However if you're determined to miss the point then get your red pen on this next sentence.

King Canute, sat his throne on the beach and commanded the tyde knot too come in. His jewels' we're ruined.

Content is King, I'm off to squash a spider.

Thursday, 6 August 2009

BLOG 11#: POEM - BURP! ooh IRN BRU


here's a wee poem about Irn Bru. I bloody love Irn Bru...

BURP. oooh, IRN BRU - Part 1

BURP. ooh Irn Bru,
Just how good are you?
Is a Pint too much to do?
Nah, it's Irn Bru.... BUUURP!
... look out for Irn Bru Part 2.


Tuesday, 4 August 2009

Blog 10#: Gerry McLaughlin Showreel 2009

Right here is my 2009 Presenting showreel. If you know anyone who needs a top class and unshakably professional presenter... then I can probably get you Steve Jones's number, but try to get them to watch this too!

Monday, 3 August 2009

Blog #9: Tv Presenter or Rabies Ridden Axe Murder?

"Wherever I lay my hat, that's my home" sang 80's icon Paul Young (yes I know it was a Marvin Gaye cover, but I've been watching LIVE AID recently).

I currently have two hats; one is back in the spare room at my Mum & Dad's house and the other is on a fold-out bed in a lounge belonging to a couple of very generous and understanding friends. Yes Ladies, I'm quite a catch at the moment. If you like, open a new browser window and start playing 'No Scrubs' by TLC to really set the mood, go on - do it... in fact here's the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Av7m_Pgt1S8 (don't have it too loud, makes it hard to concentrate; 1/5 volume should do it.)

It was while wearing the hat at my parents house that I thought I would attempt to get insured on my Pa's Car... only to find that this was impossible. Why? Because I have previously been a TV presenter.
Here is the conversation I had with Frizzel Car insurance - In order for this interchange to seem more reasonable, I have replaced the term Tv Presenter with the term Rabies Ridden Axe murderer. -Here we go
THE PHONE CALL
"Good evening Frizzel Insurance, I have your details here, how can I help you?"
"hello, I'd like to add myself to my father's car insurance, please"

"Certainly sir, what is your occupation and do you have a valid driving licence?"
"Yeah, my licence is valid and while I'm currently unemployed I was until recently a Rabies Ridden Axe Murderer"

"Oh, I'm afraid it's our policy not to insure Rabies Ridden Axe Murderers, sir"
"what? why the hell is that?"

"Well, unfortunately it's just that Rabies Ridden Axe Murderers are a high risk group"
"Well that's fine, because I'm not a Rabies Ridden Axe Murderer anymore... I'm unemployed!"

"I'm sorry sir, but you've told us you've been a Rabies Ridden Axe Murderer, so we can't insure you"
"But I've been insured on ma Dad's car before, I've even used it for Rabies Ridden Axe Murdering jobs that I've had"

"Well you shouldn't have done sir, that was illegal. You were actually down on our system as a writer"
"I am a writer, as well!"

"Yes but unfortunately you are also an unemployed Rabies Ridden Axe Murderer, so we can't insure you"
"I genuinely feel nothing but hate towards you people"

I might not have actually said that last line, but I certainly wanted to and it turns out I'm not the only one. Many people who are in the media, play musical instruments or work in the entertainment industry are also considered to be un-insurable units of mis-activity. Presumably this can only be because we are all up all night painting our lungs, livers and nostrils the colour of drugs and booze and saying things to each other like "have you ever driven drunk? Oh you should! It's such a buzz!!" & "I'll give you this half bottle of Gin if you can knock all those nuns over in one go..." - It's just not true and is a very misleading perception, which is something
insurance companies seem to be guilty of on a fairly regular basis.
IFFY POP
At the start of the year Swiftcover Insurance launched an advertizing campaign fronted by Iggy Pop. The Man dubbed "Godfather of Punk" leaps around in front of a purple backdrop like puppet who's stings are only attatched at the elbows and knees and is being operated by a particularly cowardly child watching a horror film while sitting in a wasps nest. He shouts "GET A LIFE" whilst jangling his bones at you like a street-wise zombie.

Pause TLC for a minute and look for yourself: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kk4bmw-Xd_k&feature=related

However, the advert was briefly banned by Advertising Standards, as Swiftcover didn't actually insure musicians, which they thought was a little misleading... yes, yes of bloody course it is.

So it looks like for the meantime I'm stuck with my little Silver Vespa with its 50cc's of pure sex appeal (You can put 'No Scrubs' back on again). So, if you work or have ever worked in Entertainments or the Media you might want to think your situation through before applying for insurance, because if you tell them you'ra a Rabies Ridden Axe Murderer and you get covered... I'll eat my hat - both of them!

Thursday, 30 July 2009

Blog #8: Do you need a receipt?

Have you seen these signs in Railways station newsagents and cafes (Upper Crust sandwich stalls)?

I don't get it.

I mean don't get me wrong, I'm all up for the chance to get my order free but which Exc introduced this little novelty offer? and why? Had there previously been a nation wide outcry about the lack of receipts in British Stations? Have sales of over priced bagettes soared ever since this service was installed? - it must have done - because businesses are money grabbing bastards. it's what they do. I can hardlybelieve that Upper Crust made all these signs just for a laugh, or to give us something to read - something to fill those painful two minutes of non-chatting while your stale gum ripping excuse for a meal is zapped towards edibility.

THE WORST THING

The worst thing is it makes me actively want to distract the poor bagette handler - I know it's not his fault he's a corporate pawn - Infact I bet the day that Tracy (the senior Bagette handler) told him about the new paramount importance on dishing out receipts, he probably said "that's f*cking weird, why are we doing that now?"... he's probably on managements watch list as a dangerous & independant thinker.

Does anyone actually pull them up on it? surely if you wanted a receipt, you'd just ask for one.... has anyone managed to claim a tax-back fortune purely through buttie-receipts? - You'd look pretty cheap passing it off as entertaining clients.

NO BINS
Ultimately I don't want a receipt for a £3.39 shit sandwich. AND THERE'S NO BIN'S AT THE STATION NOW (apparently Terrorists were hiding in them... or something). So I'm left with two options: a) Hold onto it - annoying as I already have my train ticket in my hand and want to eat. b) Drop it. Just drop it like a dirty littering scumbag.... actually, three options - eat the receipt. It's what the bread's made out of anyway.

... So thanks for that Uppercrust. You don't know me or my 'wants'! Your system is as pointless as a man with no arms. You'd be better off having your staff say the word 'trumpty-bum' with every order... at least it'd fill those painful multitudenous microwave minutes. UpperCrust? UpperC*nt.