Tuesday, 29 June 2010


Watagwan bredders? I hope you have 5 minutes to read and digest the garbled ravings of a semi illiterate mad man, as you have just pulled up a chair to table 17 of the Aldershot Woes…

Now me, like a lot of footy loving people across the world, has a bitter taste in me mooey, it’s a taste that resembles burnt hair, earwax and the breath of a world champion shit gargler… it aint pretty! And what is causing this distress to the collective pallet of the footy loving world? Well I will let you know, if you really want to know which I am assuming you do, hence my pre typed rhetoric above… so I invite you to roll up your sleeves, loosen your tie and put on a comfy pair of walking shoes (smart/casual) as we take a sideways glance to the world of… Goal Line technology!

You know the problem with introducing goal line technology to football? No, of course not no one does, it would take about 10 seconds tops for the ref to get clarification from a 4th official. So how would that be a problem? It wouldn’t would it, it really wouldn’t. Constantly you see how this technology is helping fair play in other sports, so why not footy? Once more let me fill you in, its because a Swiss dandy and his French lover are scared, but are they right to be, or is it second nature for these clock making neutral surrender-men… Let’s fuel the flames of the argument in favour before we piss on it with the yellow liquid of reason and in the end see whether or not we’re any better off.

The first sport to usher in Goal-line technology was Tennis, and immediately it put an end to expletive filled outbursts from angry rich folks about the level of seriousness being expressed by umpires. Today in tennis Roger Fedderer can hit a tennis ball at 500mph on to a line thinner than the argument to play Heskey alongside Rooney, and within 2 seconds you can see from 12 different angles not only if it is in the line or on the line but by how many microns. So never again will a plucky little rich brat, a wrist achingly beautiful Russian tennis vixen or a bull-dyke cigar smoking man beast be wrongly punished or rewarded in this silly game. And the umpires can judge matches more fairly and be more respected as the doubt has been removed for them. Now they can sit there in peace, calling quiet please in there life guard style high chairs.

Now I am sure most of you are now asking what tennis has to do with real sport, and I’ll agree, not a great deal, but 2 more sports have welcomed the technology, the first is the huff and puff bully boy rugger buggers. Now Rugby is a silly game played by rich people and watched by fat people but despite my feelings of disdain towards the game there is no doubting the athletic prowess of some of its players. Take Joanna Loomey or what ever his name was, he was 7 foot tall, weighed 34 stone and could do the hundred meters in 9 seconds flat. In any other country in the world he would have been a central defender but he is from the land of Peter Jacksons props and sheep, New Zealand. They are a mixed up bunch down there, they are to Australia what Wales is to England, so you can imagine how shit things are. Any way, that big guy was a great athlete and a few others are as well, I’m sure. Now after running around and goosing each other up eventually these Neanderthal juger-twats try to get an oval shaped thing over a line. Now unlike the highly skilled game of footy, the line in rugger is the width of the pitch and there is no goalie, but still it has been known for the refs to get it wrong. So over a dirty pint served in a dead horses skull the rugger boys decided to introduce the goal line technology, now never again will a middle class fat man be wrongly rewarded or punished in the silliest game on earth. Another success for goal line technology…

But enough of silly sports only a minority of people play, what about cricket? Cricket is the lazy teenage son of sport, it is like chess played in white with beer, and though it is infested with the yah-yah stinks of the upper crust, in little pokey villages in far flung corners of the country working class people are allowed to play in second string teams regardless of talent. So that makes it sport enough for me, plus you can freely drink beer all day whilst watching it. It really is just a shame it is over shadowed by the filthy rich uber-twats of the barmy –army… fancy dress wearing wankers. Anyway once more I digress, when cricket heard about goal-line technology they pounced upon it and implemented in as soon as they could. They now use fourth officials for everything. They have one device that make bats-mans legs invisible to check for LBW, they use video replays for catches, and wides, where ever they can. They have gone mad on technology like a twat with an i-phone adding 4th official apps like crazy. The best and most beffudling is the awesomely titled Snick-omenter… it is a sonographical-reverberation-calculation-device used to see if the ball scrapes the wickets. Also they have included predator style heat vision to the replays to see the heat change in the area the ball hits, this is to see if it comes off the bat or the pads or some mad bollocks, who knows? They are techno mad in cricket land, and this has meant a fairer game played allowing us to beat the Ozzies twice in recent memory…

So why not football? What are they scared of? Every single piece of logic and common sense screams at them to introduce goal line technology and video referees. Not one sane person can say with any truth that the level of fair play would not increase with the introduction of video replays. There is no rational reason to NOT have goal line technology… and that is the reason Sepp Blatter is doing the right thing for football.

Tennis, Rugby, Cricket, all have thrived under the introduction of video refs as it puts an end to needless ranting and replaces it with cool, calm, logical and just end results. But football is the game it is because at any one single moment, any fluke occurrence can happen and the team that have dominated can swiftly become the team that has lost. A split second of madness, and 90 minutes of hard work can be undone. This is what makes football so great, the fact the referees are clueless and completely fallible adds a level of excitement and edge-of-seat drama that no other sport comes even remotely close to replicating. Do you really envisage a world where a goal is scored but not given, the players protest to the referee who then calls on the 4th official, a silence grips the stadium as eyes are fixed on a jumbo-vision screen as the replays are studied in secret, then the word GOAL flashes up on the screen with a shitty animation of a ball hitting the net in the background, the silence is then filled with the polite clap of the fans and the faint grumble of the opposition… God no, the injustices keep it interesting, its cruel, its horrible and it is by no means logical to carry on with out them, but by god man, this is football!

The introduction of these changes would lead to a sterilisation of football, which would lead to an era of emotionless stale polite footy… and then as it increases in politeness little Timmy and his mates will start to play and the elitism that chokes the life out of all other British sport would take its hold on footy. Football is an uncompromising ravenous bastard that will break your heart and make you cry a thousand times more times than you will cheer, and like any real love it needs the uncertainties and blind faith to flourish. Sepp Blatter, you are undoubtedly an English hating cunt smear of a man and for all I care you and your French fancy man can go and die in a hole somewhere, but stick to your guns on this one (a hard task for a frog and a neutral but give it a go please).

Well, 2 woes in 2 days, and hopefully the utter woe of the World Cup has been vanquished for another 4 years. As ever I don’t completely agree with what a I write but some where along the line I make a point, which I don’t necessarily agree with either, but there you go it is what it is… And so ends the 17th Aldershot Woe, and it was well on point, we all know darts doesn’t have any video refs and that’s a great sport, so why should footy…

You can’t follow me on twitter as I am grumpy and unsociable and I probably wouldn’t like you.


Monday, 28 June 2010


Hello, I hope all is well with you? It is? That’s just aces… Well we’re back in the interweb typing bollocks in an effort to lift the nations spirits, and if the nation consists of the 4-5 people who bother to read this guff, then we might just be successful.

Football, what a cruel bastard it is, I mean honestly, what a shit. It plays with your emotions and strings you along like the most heartless of cock teasers. Except with footy, it’s a heart teaser, which is much worse as no amount of wanking will satisfy your wants afterwards. Its just relentless, gut wrenching rejection and unlike all other facets of your emotional life, you have zero control over it. Football is a cruel and dirty whore and though we should all know better, we’re all hopelessly and pathetically in love with her. She’ll never change, but every now and again she’ll give us a look of concern or empathy, something, just enough to keep us imprisoned in the faint hope that one day true love will shine through… but it won’t, because football is a whore. No breed of man is more helplessly besotted with the dirty love of Madame Football than the English, and with that in mind, please join me as we dry our tears, hang our St Georges flags at half mast and deliver this, the 16th Aldershot Woe and eulogy of…… English Football.

En-ger-land! We love it though don’t we? For 80 percent of the English population football is the most important constant of there lives, it’s there at all stages, your first match with your dad, your first team, your first goal, your first defeat your first victory. Every Saturday eagerly watching and cheering, or waiting patiently for any news to come through like a nervous parent with a child away at war. It’s always there, in the background of tragedy or happiness it is always there, always playing a part, either making good days better or providing a much needed distraction from the ugliness of real life. We love it, we do… I know other countries love it too, it’s footy for gods sake how could they not, but we live it more intensely here than in any other place in the world, it is that important to us. I suppose in the eyes of some that’s pathetic, well it’s not, so shut up!

As we do love it more than old Johnny Foreigner we have developed a nasty habit of occasionally getting carried away a bit too much when it comes to the national team, and perhaps we are slightly guilty of viewing our lads through rose tinted glasses. This leads to some pretty arrogant behaviour, the sort that is not usually associated with the good old English and our die hard sprit of fair play. But like all fools in love we are bound to act occasionally with out first engaging our minds, we mean no harm by it. However I am constantly hearing from foreign types that the reason they dislike the English fans is because we all behave like England have some sort of divine right to do well in the big tournaments, well I hope I can clear this misunderstanding up. We act like we have a divine right to do well because we do, and if we don’t we bloody well should do.

And here’s why!

In 1300ad in a small, muddy, weather beaten island in northern Europe, an ever expanding underclass of people are growing bored. As their opulent leaders indulge in lawn tennis, and class based public executions the seething underbelly of society requires a pastime that is theirs, although darts was doing very well the split federations confused some people and failed to encapsulate all in its glory. However one beautiful day in late August as the sun beat down on England and her people, a great man had a great Idea, his name was Dave Football, inventor and founder of the greatest game on earth. Pretty soon he and his mates had devised a set of rules to play the game by (although their was some disagreement on whether or not to have a some one watch the goal line, it was agreed that having to check if the ball had crossed would slow the game down too much). As the game spread across England it grew and grew in popularity, uniting society with a common love shared by the common man. Now as always with this hallowed nation a lot of foreign types came over looking for a better life and as they did this word of this great game spread back to their families over the globe and pretty soon in every corner of the world Footy was being played and loved. Leagues were set up as more and more teams were formed, and every team had its heroes. In a relatively short space of time, a simple mans idea had become a global phenomena, and on his death bed Dave Football (who was cruelly never knighted, even though Sir Peter Tennis was) spoke these words which live in the soul of every Englishman to ever kick a ball or call a referee a cunt, he said: “Don’t ever forget, we made this sport, its ours and we have the right to be best at it” and with that the hepatitis took his soul to the great pitch in the sky.

Unfortunately foreign types being neither trustworthy nor appreciative ignored Footballs dying words, and they practised and developed styles of playing far better than the correct hit and hope method of footy played by us English, the result was horrible. Foreigners playing swift one touch football with hardly any hoofing to be seen at all, and as soon as they had all mastered their talents, rather than say thank you England for providing the world with yet another genius device to make life less shit, they organised huge tournaments, to rub their new cheating skills in our faces. Now I am as open minded as the next skinhead but what a bunch of scum them non-brits are!

So here we are today, a nation obsessed with a game we have left ourselves shit at, it’s a humiliating existence, feeling like a one legged man in an arse kicking contest, but it is ours, and though things could change and we could play football properly that would mean giving up an tiny piece of our identity, one that no one alive was actually part of, but one that is still very much ours and for some reason important. So even though right now we have the crushing humiliation of yet again being completely outclassed on the global stage, once those qualifiers for Euro 2012 begin we shall take our place as rightful kings of the world of football. And rightly so, we love it more than anyone, we spend more money on it than anyone ensuring we have the greatest domestic league in the world, and we pay our lads handsomely, so when the time comes they couldn’t give 2 shits about playing for England…

That’s how it must be for English football, to play completely with out skill or passion, to disregard all actual means of showing how talented you are and to trust wholly on the assumption that: We Are England, We Are Great. Regardless of how painfully untrue it is. I described this piece as a Eulogy to English football, but all yesterday has proven is that English football is alive and well and flourishing under it’s own self hating principles. So lets keep our end alive, we need more outrage over the goal-line fiasco, we need Capello’s head on stick, we need to protect our selfish uncaring superstars, we need to let the world know that we were tired, and Germany cheated and it was all Sepp Blatters fault. Come on, the lads did their bit, they played with out a care and can come home for some extra hols before the Prem starts, and they actually get paid for that so they’ll need to play well. We need to do our part, cling on to faint hopes in the knowledge that despite what happens on the pitch we only lost because of cheating foreigners and corrupt officials. Remember if you hate the team you hate the country, which means you hate yourself and you hate football and you hate blinkered nationalism, and that just won’t do, so come on England next time its ours for the taking!

Well then that was the 16th Woe, did you get that, I didn’t, and I just fucking wrote it, so I don’t see what chance you have of getting it but to summarise it’s this. England good, everyone else bad. And please remember to treat football the same way you would treat a child you were raising, hit it and hope.

You can’t follow me on Twitter as fifa have told me that it would interfere with play too much..


Thursday, 24 June 2010


Salutations reader, please pull up a ergonomically designed Ikea style office chair, adjust the height and back and get your self comfy for the 15th nugget of Woe, which I am cleverly calling, Episode 15 of the Aldershot Woes…

Well the bloody World Cup is on and its football everywhere you can’t escape it, it’s on the telly non-stop its all anyone goes on about and quite frankly… I’m loving it. And if you’re not, you’re probably wrong in the thought tank and should be locked in a basement with a platoon of rabid, hungry foxes and have slices of wafer thin honey roast ham stapled to your chest, that’d sort you out, lucky for you though we need all the foxes we have for hunting and barking weirdly at night. Still though, their remains one thing that is a great sorter outer of men, and with the patriotic winds of glory bellowing around the nation as our brave lads boot up and prepare to do battle with the despicable cheating Hun, please join me as we hoist the St Georges high, get our boots as shiny as possible and march with regimental discipline through the glorious world of… War.

The year is 3000BC, a tired God has just created the known universe and fashioned man in his image and woman in his image as well but with tits and a minge, and no beard. The first steps of man are being carefully trodden, civilisation is emerging cautiously, and with the free will God has given man opinions start to differ in regards to the direction these new societies should take. These differences lead to the formation of different tribes and nations with different ideals and ideology, which over time leads to different looking people who act in different ways doing different things talking in different languages about things that are different. And as man knows instinctively, different is bad, different is a threat… different must be destroyed.

So with the birth of ignorance comes the dawn of hatred followed swiftly by the breakfast of war and the elevenses of loss, sorrow and pain but for one side a buffet lunch of glory awaits, for the other the hunger pains of defeat. What would have taken a lifetime in diplomacy can be achieved in a day of war. Nations grow in both size and ethos and as they grown they become stronger, infecting their neighbours with the disease of battle and converting its opposition with the influence of blood loss, and all thanks to war. For the simple cost of a bit of blood being spilled and a few “innocent” lives being lost… well that serves them right for standing up for their different beliefs and you can’t make an omelette without breaking a few eggs!

And that’s been pretty much how life has carried on since, now like me you have probably heard some people (usually unemployed dirty types) saying that war is bad, and some even go as far to say that it is an unnecessary act all together. Yeah, sure it is as long as you’re happy with dangerous unknown differences being everywhere posing a threat to your beloved sames??? Some people are really very silly. I can’t think of one bad thing about war, but I’d wager that your average 3 year old boy could tell you a thousand things that are great about it. These self hating naysayer’s will have you believe that through diplomacy and ethical fair treatment and appreciation for all life equally differences could exist in a Utopian like society and progress could be made by all of mankind and not at the expense of the loss of life.
Poppycock. And I’ll tell you why with a series of facts. Firstly diplomacy and reason don’t work, all they do is result in 2 unsatisfied parties, that is their very nature. Here’s an example: Nation A wants a pie, however nation B wants the same pie, with diplomacy and reason they would cut the pie in half and neither party has its full desires met. However with war, Nation B gets his face kicked off and Nation A has a big fat pie all to himself. Its win/win with war every time. “But what about the poor dead nation?” I hear you ask in a pitiful sneering tone, well they’re dead and dead people don’t want pies, have you ever heard a dead person ask for a pie? Of course not that’s very silly, and if you have get help, now!

Here’s the second big flaw in crazy hippy Utopia nonsense: Treat all human life equally. Well that is ridiculous, all life isn’t equal a lot of it is different, that’s why your going to war in the first place remember!

And lastly here’s why we wouldn’t progress with out the loss of lives. When there is no war people are lethargic and happy and stagnant. No one is getting their limbs torn off by bullets, so no one is inventing prosthetic limbs. No one requires faster stronger vehicles so engineers aren’t busy developing breakthrough technologies. No one needs armour plated robot suits with built in missiles, machine guns and a rocket pack, and it’s a good thing to, as no one is busy inventing it. No one is completely crushed by the heart wrenching and needless loss of young lives, so poets and artists aren’t creating great works to express their feelings. No one needs mind altering drugs to suppress feelings of guilt or to numb the misery of trench warfare, so chemists aren’t making any. Just about everything that is good about anything was developed solely for the purpose of war. Vehicles, homes, medical treatments, food, art, communication tools, recreational drugs, robot suits, you name it, all built for the war cause. With out war, we will not progress harmoniously to a state of Utopian bliss, we will simply exist quietly and grow stale and very dull.

So that’s why war is needed, to develop man, to speed up our progression, to grow nations and unite the brave many under the single mindedness of the scared few. But as we briefly touched earlier there is a far greater reason for war, one that today’s upside down, alcho-pop fuelled, hat backwards wearing society has forgotten… to sort the men from the boys.

War makes men and kills heroes, it teaches discipline and suffering and above all that life goes on. War doesn’t allow 5 minutes to reflect and have a sit down it is relentless and harrowing just like real life should be, as long as a war is going on. And the experiences you draw from it will stick with you forever as a stark reminder of life and death and sacrifice and what it means to be a man. The screams in your nightmares an eternal memorial to the horror of real life at its absolute worst and a reminder that unless you are part of the system, unless you turn in unison with the rest of the cogs unless you give yourself entirely to something that you don’t really understand it all could all go horribly wrong. And that is what it is to be a real man, to know that despite the childish wants of the subconscious mind you must carry on regardless keeping the machine of society running smoothly towards victory and for a cause you don’t really understand. War teaches these virtues better than anything else. Times were good when we had more war, as every kid got to an age and it was decided they’d go and shoot foreigners and come back men, now what do we have to sort the men from the boys? Nothing, they all just go through puberty, do A levels ponce off to uni to do a media degree and get jobs in call centres or IT departments. And that’s it, that’s modern man? Well it’s a great shower of shite if you ask me.

So in order to keep man progressing and selflessly offering his life for a cause he doesn’t really understand, I beseech you to be unreasonably aggressive in the face of anything slightly different and together we can make the world an angrier, sadder but more productive and purposeful place for us all.

Well then, that was war and I think we can all agree it was a battle reading it this far, purple hearts and silver crosses are in the mail for your valour and bravery. But lets keep our fighting spirit alive as we again prepare to face the enemies of old in the noble art of footy this Sunday and if between then and now you can give a Chinese burn to foreigner or at least make him feel needlessly uncomfortable in a social situation I am sure we stand a chance.

Of course after making such outwardly inflammatory and racist remarks I should post a reminder, just in case any one is easily led by semi retarded dribble posted on the internet and littered with grammatical errors and historical inaccuracies, that the above is written ironically. In reality nothing fills me with more joy than the thought of a world with out war, except for maybe a world with out wasps, evil little cunts aint they.

You can’t follow me on twitter but if you could you’d know that at half 7 this morning I had a very satisfying poo.


Wednesday, 23 June 2010


Ahem, hello… The Aldershot Woes has been on a paternal hiatus for the last couple of weeks but now it is back in all of its dyslexic glory to once more shine a dim light on to a dim world using the brain lamp of a dim man with a dim mind. Dim. It’s good to be back.

So with no further ado I welcome you all to this, the 14th episode of the Aldershot Woes… And before you all reach for your calculators let me just fill you in on the missing 13th Woe. I had written in full a complete blog about the recent media phenomenon that is TV Fat Cunt James Corden, it was a scornful piece which pulled no punches and it was as funny as the day is long (and we’re late June now bare in mind). However before it had a chance to be spread across the info tunnels of the interspace I was called away to the birth of me son… So the 13th Woe is left as a ghostly shadow on the memory of my work laptop and we are moving on swiftly to the 14th Woe, plus 13 is well unlucky so best left alone I reckon…

That last paragraph had more “ado” than I had planned, so with all the “ado” now taken care of may I say this time, honestly, with no further ado, lets slap on some factor 50 get out our deck chairs and soak our selves in the warm and fuzzy rays of… Lethargy…

Laziness, well you know…

Right then, that wraps up this welcome back Woe, with a detailed study in to the world of being lazy, its uncomfortably hot and the butterflies in my stomach have butterflies in their stomachs worrying about the England game this afternoon… So that’s all from me for today.

You can’t follow Twitter, because of a reason which is funny but I can be bothered to go in to.


Tuesday, 8 June 2010


In 1992, a crack smoking commando was sent to prison by a magistrate court for a crime he didn't commit. This fella promptly escaped from a maximum security stockade to the Aldershot underground. Today, still wanted by the government, he survives as a peddler of bullshit. If you have a problem, if you require a pointless diatribe littered with the sort of grammatical mistakes a 4 year old with ADHD would make, if no one else can help, and if you can find him, maybe you can hire... The Aldershot Woes.

Welcome once more. Recent Woes have been far too negative, concentrating on world issues and social injustices, rather than painting on a happy face and getting on with it like a battered housewife who appreciates the importance of keeping up a good appearance for the benefit of her Stella drinking shitbag boyfriend or husband. Well today on the Aldershot woes, we cake our bruises in make up, put on our largest sun glasses and smile nervously at real heroes of the world.

Hero, a word bandied about all too easily in today’s world, and if we carry on using it with such abandonment it could soon lose all meaning and then we’d have no heroes at all. For example, some people call soldiers heroes… well they’re not they are soldiers, they are doing a job they are no more heroic than postmen (actually given the state of my estate I’d say posties are a little braver). Ok I’ll concede that it is possible for a soldier to be heroic, if he kills Hitler or something but the way it gets thrown around for every Colonel Tim, Sergeant Dick and Price Harry it’s just going too far. Help for Heroes? These are merely people injured in the workplace, isn’t this what we all pay NI for? It’s just getting very silly now if I were to sprain my wrist writing emails (yeah… emails) would you get people calling me a hero and running marathons to raise money to send me and the family to Disney World for a fortnight? I very much doubt it. Look we all appreciate the work soldiers do, securing the safety of the pockets of the world’s richest people and making sure we look cool in front of the Americans, but heroes? I am not so sure.

Another group of people wrongly labeled with the hero tag for doing their job are doctors. Ok we all get poorly every now and again and the old quack comes in very useful but is he a hero or is he doing a job he gets paid handsomely for? My thoughts sway towards the latter you may argue that a doctor saves lives and works long hours, but who doesn’t??? Take the humble milkman, up at the crack of dawn delivery precious cow juice to ensure the youth of the world have strong bones, you ever hear anyone call a milkman a hero? Of course not and if you did you would think that the person what said it was well wrong in the old brain tank. And its not only doctors who receive these over blown praises, its also nurses… well that is just wrong, if you are a lady you basically have three proper career options (4 on my estate but we’ll leave that for another blog ay) you can be a House Wife, a Receptionist or lastly a Nurse. And these women are called heroes for doing what comes as natural instinct, looking after poorly men folk and making a fuss of sick kiddies. Its good honest lady work and everyone appreciates it but are they really heroes for doing something which comes as natural to a lady as shopping or getting giddy over fluffy kittens? Again I fear the answer is no. These people are appreciated and a valid and loved part of society, and one we could undoubtedly not do with out but are they heroes or merely just people doing a good job. I mean if Doctors and Soldiers are heroes then who next. Teachers, Politicians, Social Activists, Policemen, Firefighters, Carers, Fund Raisers, Dentists, Lollypop Ladies, Economists, Thrift Shop Volunteers, Vets, Builders, Fisherman, Journalists, TV Presenters, Big Issue Sellers??? I mean whatever next drug dealers and estate agents??? It’s completely out of hand, and we run a very serious risk of everyone being a hero and living in a world similar to the Bicycle Repair Man sketch from Monty Python, which sounds all well and good but then how long till we’re all crushed by a giant cartoon foot?

But are there any real heroes in the world today? Of course and they are a rare and special breed of people. People who push boundaries and challenge the way we think and stuff, real heroes who make real achievements and real change to the world. And to celebrate these real heroes, every four years a big hero festival is held somewhere in the world and for 4 weeks these real heroes are celebrated for the fine heroic work they do. Of course I mean footballers. Some people, usually self hating neurotics, think that footballers aren’t real heroes and that they just get paid loads of money for playing a silly game. Well that kind of bile is just sick and twisted and these wrong people need to be locked in a cage and poked by angry midgets with sticks till they thinks proper! Of course footballers are heroes and they are paid accordingly, it’s only fair they get that much money, if you were a real hero wouldn’t you expect the same? Football players entertain the world and make everything better, it is a scientific fact that the world is happier when there is a football match going on somewhere. And the world is now fortunate enough to gaze upon the spectacle of the greatest show on earth, to see first hand the heroics of footy. Some, sick people, will argue that a doctor saving a life is far more heroic than anything any footballer has ever done… well you couldn’t be more wrong, even if you tried. Saving a life is good, but scoring a free kick in the dying seconds of extra time is better. And if you think that is flawed thinking in anyway ask yourself this. How many kids have pictures of football players on there walls? Pretty much all of them (except the fruity ones). Now, how many kids do you know who have pictures of doctors on there walls? None (except for maybe a couple of weird Goths). If ever you needed proof that is it. Another argument used, by truly bitter people, is that if footballers were really heroes wouldn’t they act better off the pitch? No, they wouldn’t, they act that way because they are better than us, and they are also safe in the knowledge that no matter what they do in real life they have the chance for redemption and forgiveness every time they play football. Take John Terry or Steven Gerard, I can honestly not think of two worse specimens of the human race, truly these two represent everything that is wrong with humanity and if they were normal non-heroes you would be happy to see them torn limb from limb by a horde of angry squirrels. But come a chance goal that wins England an important game, or maybe even the world cup, then all these two deplorable despicable dirty bastards have done is washed away in a sea of glory. Real Heroes once more…

So next time you see a one armed war veteran who lost his limb defending the freedoms of the world asking for “Help for Heroes”, you give him a copy of Match or Shoot magazine and show him what a real hero looks like. And next time you see a young doctor tired from working 50 hour weeks and stressed from NHS budget cuts and you hear some bleeding heart lefty call him a hero, punch them both in the face and make them carry around a life size cut out of Rio Ferdinand as a reminder or real heroism. And when that first whistle goes against the USA and the hero festival starts look at the way in which those brave bastards carry themselves and be proud. Be proud for Rio be proud for Terry be proud for Gerrard and Cole and Crouch… be proud for them all, especially for young Rooney, that mighty brave lion of a man who in all honesty would kick Superman’s arse right about now… Real Heroes one and all…

Well I hope that clears up some of the confusion surrounding what a hero is, of course its not just footballers who are heroes, there’s Phil Taylor and the Rocket as well, and sometimes the cricketers, if they beat the Aussies.

This brings to an end the 12th edition of the Aldershot Woes, and for the 12th one running it’s been a horrendous mix of ignorance and stupidity if you read this far down with out putting your head through the screen of your PC or I-phone you deserve a pat on the back and the rest of the day off to warm up for the World Cup.

You can’t follow me on twitter as I’m Amish and I believe your technology is an abomination of gods will.


Monday, 7 June 2010

Edumacation For The Messes

I bid thee readers a warm welcome, as once more it is time to wave your hands in the air and shake them like you just don’t care… Its Episode 11 of the Aldershot Woes, your bi or tri weekly glimpse inside the twisted mind of a retard…

In just over a month we have managed to spew nonsense on all manner of subjects and I like to feel the world is a slightly thicker place thanks to it. But regardless how hard I try to uneducate the masses (or the 6 or so people who read this shite) I am still met with academic sneers of disdain from those who think they are better than me just because they have clear cohesive thoughts and have never been kicked out of Iceland for putting there knob in a freezer (don’t judge me, this hot weathers a killer)… So today we straighten our ties, run a comb through our hair and wink suggestively at the world of education.

I like many people have little to no education, I was never fortunate enough to go to university so I don’t have a media degree. I was educated at state schools in crappy areas and after 11 years of cocking about all I had to show for my schooling was a set of GCSEs results that a brain damaged monkey could have achieved with arthritis in both hands and a blunt pencil… They weren’t good. However I carried on regardless, applied myself and worked hard and now I have a decent job, I enjoy reading and can do joined up handwriting and all my times tables up to the 7s. And when some Johnny Educated comes along giving it the big I AM and thinking he is better than someone just because he has an education it makes me want to kick him in his shins and batter him to death with the complete works of David Shakespeare… Who do they think they are, educated bastards, think they’re better than me do they???...

Well yes they do, and rightly so.

For a long time education was a privilege and one only bestowed upon rich people (that is one of the big differences between rich and poor, the rich have privileges and the poor have benefits). A rich person being richer and therefore better would know what to do with it. Why if you were to give a diploma or a degree to a poor person a hundred years ago they’d probably wipe there arse with it, or use it as a betting slip. But nowadays education is open to all, so in order to maintain the status quo good education is only on offer at a price… a very high price. This is very beneficial to the country, however some of you may be thinking it is a bad thing as it leads to classism and a two tier society, well it doesn’t and if you were educated properly you’d know why it doesn’t, I’m not educated properly so I can’t explain it to you, you’ll just have to take my word for it.
But here we are with bad education available for all, and that can’t be a bad thing, sure it would good if we all had good education available freely but lets be honest most of us are too thick to know what to do with it. So let’s be thankful for the bad education we receive freely and let our properly educated masters run things for us in the way they’ve forced us to become accustomed too, after all that’s what they have told us were happy with.

Education, education, education, said a politician with Alzheimer’s three times, and he was absolutely right of course. Education is a great tool, one that shapes and builds this great nation and has kept us where we are for the last 500 years… the fucking top. And though thanks to bleeding heart lefties everyone has to be educated even if they don’t want to be, things are still pretty much the same, but as the world has changed so has education. And thankfully as a result of this carefully planned change, everything is as it was before hand.

Lets start with the poor, there are two types of poor, ones happy to work to be poor and those who prefer to do nothing in order to be poor, the end result is much the same and education has its place for both. For those who wish to be poor with the minimum of effort you are free to go to school and do nothing, in many state run schools this is encouraged and often children are rewarded with extra holidays, or exclusions as they’re known. However if you are a poor person who wishes to work very hard to maintain your low social standing and income, education has it place for you also, along side those who wish to do nothing to keep up their poorness, in over crowded shoddy state run schools, where teachers are encouraged to keep you back based on your fathers earnings. This ensures the future will have people willing to do hard labour and undesirable jobs in order to be poor and those who will go on Jeremy Kyle and get paid by the government for their poorness. The systems already winning…

But hang on a ruddy minute, if daddies going to leave you a bank to run or a newspaper, you can’t just fill it with poor people… if only there were a group of people with a better social standing than the poor, but not as much money as the rich? They could be trained to do more important jobs and be paid enough to have aspirations of being rich themselves one day, but never enough to quite attain their dreams of richness… they’d have that thing that poor people lost in the dark ages, what is it… hope? Yeah what we need is group of people not quite at the top and not quite at the bottom… a middle class if you will?

Well as Jesus loves rich people, the middle classes were invented in the 1950s and have been aspiring to be rich but not quite making it ever since. And education has its way of making them too… Middle classes often come from state schools, but ones in nicer areas and rather than giving them a dead arm and telling them too get on with it as school does to poor kids, middle class kids get to go to college… in college they are taught the importance of aspiring to be richer and better and also to look down on poor people, as many of the poor shunned them when they picked football teams at school. After college the middle classes are allowed to go to a shit uni if they wish… this is encouraged and those that do attend get to do Media Degrees. Once the Media Degree is achieved after years of hard work the Middle Classes are free to join society, in a job where they earn enough to dream to be rich but never quite enough to make that dream come true.

Well that’s the shit dealt with, as if any of them matter, rich people are better at everything even footy, they just chose not to play it. They are happier, smarter, better looking, better smelling and better dressed, and education of course has its place for our superiors… Little is known of boarding schools outside of what is read in Harry Potter books and they are a fair assessment, these magical places teach the wealthy of Britain, nay the world, that they are better, and not because they do anything as most them will do little else than quaff Champaign in their whole lives, but because of who and what they are. That might sound silly to me or you… but that is simply because we don’t understand anything, were basically dirty little cavemen compared to these rich goliaths, and who the hell do we think we are even daring to question a system that has worked for so long… and we know its worked because they told us so. To the cynical eye it may appear as if the entire structure is designed and maintained to keep people in their place just to ensure that the rich stay rich and the rest of us make do. Well, I pity your poisoned heart and twisted views… could you really imagine a world where the ultra rich weren’t automatically placed in to lucrative jobs or given money to run half assed design houses and west London boutiques? I can and its hell… So let me take this moment to thank education for forming the structure of this great world and keeping it in the fine shape it’s in right now. If you can think of a better way to run it then you are probably on drugs or a communist, or both…

Ok then, Education… that certainly taught me a lesson! But enough of my mirth and merriment, a serious underlying message is hidden amongst this latest woe, though seemingly disguised as the crack induced ramblings of an Eton Junky, it is in fact a clever parody flipping education on its head and giving it a wedgie… so here’s a last thought to leave you with next time you think of spitting on an uneducated person.

In life it is not the way you say something, but what you say that is really impotent.

You can’t follow me on twitter, as I don’t go on it, I have started my own social networking site and you’re not invited, no one is!


Friday, 4 June 2010


Oi, you! What are you looking at?... Well if it’s a computer screen filled with the nonsensical brain drippings of a chav town scumbag, then it’s probably episode 10 of the Aldershot Woes… Welcome.

In the last few Woes we have looked at stuff and discussed it, that’s how the blog works, and today’s Woe is no different, why would it be, it wouldn’t would it, it’d be silly to even suggest it, just plain silly. So with out further ado we slip in to a pair of comfortable sandals and stroke our goatees in a self satisfied manner as we plod through the assault course of treachery known as the Environment…

The environment, its everywhere, under your feet, behind the telly, inside boxes, in garages, in Belgium even in late 19th century Victorian structures… it is everywhere. And it’s mad as hell at you and me! Why? You ask… you arrogant piece of work! I’ll tell you why, because were doing it up the wrong’en with our selfish ways. And now the Environment is going all Charles Bronson in Deathwish and we are in for it big time…

So what are we doing wrong?:
You name it squire… the seas were once a haven for all aquatic animals, I remember a time where you could barely kick up a breast stroke in the deep blue with out disturbing great hordes of Cod… they was every where! Now though thanks to intensive farming, and fat children there are only 3 cod left in the world, one lady cod and 2 bloke cods… and wouldn’t you Adam and Eve it, the fella fish are as gay as snakes! Now there are no cod and I’m having to make do with plaice from the chippy, both me and the environment are pretty effed off on this one. But it aint just the Cod that suffered at the chubby hands of our fat kids, oh no… Whales, back in 1975 a scientist by the name of Ludwig Von Vondervonvonvon did a study and that showed their were more whales in the ocean than their were people in Japan… well old Japan saw that as a challenge, and rained down a furious war against the whales, that left Moby well and truly dicked! Poor bastards. Another crimson factor in the tidal terrors is blinking Hollywood making CGI kiddies films instead of real life fish films. There was a time where a fish could get a cushy acting job, but long gone are those days, and now kids only wanna see 3D anime fish, so all the aquariums have closed, there was a day where fish could get a cushy little life in an aquarium, not any more though… Nemo you prick!
But aint just the seas that have been pillaged by mans bare-faced greed, it’s happened on land as well… The rain forest, once a place for long since forgotten tribes to welcome Bruce Parry with open arms, or for the lost children of aristocracy to be raised by apes, but now it’s a much sadder story. Every day an area 3 times the size of Romford is cut down… and what for? You ask with a shock to your voice? To make toothpicks for the royal family and to make sharp wooden tools for, ironically, the cutting down of more trees… And it aint just the trees who are suffering, intensive farming in distant lands may help us fill up our trolleys at Tesco’s with exotic goodies to impress our friends and recreate recipes we have seen on Come Dine With Me, but it comes at a price… and a price for which you get no Club Card points! Every year dozens of acres of land are set aside for intensive farming purposes, the land is sodomised and punched in the face by industry the result is hundreds of breeds of animal facing extinction at hands of our shopping requirements. The great green tiger rat of Outer Mongolia, the Whoopedy whoopedy bird of Peru, the long toothed short mouthed river snake of Banghu Bhangu, the Thunder Cats, all perilously close to never being seen by human eyes again.
But as well as see and land there are also big icy bits which are kind of a mix of sea and land which face dilemma and loss at the big fat greedy hands of stupid man. The Polar ice caps, once proudly used as a pointless place for rich people to “adventure” to in their gap years. Now a melting misery of mans mean spiritedness. In 1966 the polar ice caps were bigger than the Beatles were at the time now they are about as big as a Jedward tribute band, or to put in simpler terms you could fit the polar ice caps in to a washing machine with room to spare.
As well as land and sea and ice our air is also suffering daily at the whim of mans cruelty… pollution, the silent killer that is sometimes heard. Factories litter 70 percent of the earths surface, especially in China where 45 new factories would have opened in the time it takes you to read this Woe. A chilling and wholly fictitious statistic, but it proves a point… if the air you and your loved ones are breathing right now was to be analyzed you would be shocked. Now I’m no scientist, I don’t have facts or figures or a fancy edumacation, but I can assure you that our air is poisoned, and if you want to live a second longer I suggest you stop breathing it immediately!
Our world is ravaged by greed and selfishness, it is a sorry miserable desolate ball of despair spinning through the cosmos on the road to oblivion. The end is nearly nigh.

So what’s gonna happen if we don’t change?
I’ll tell you what’s gonna happen shall I, oh yeah I’ll tell you, here it comes both barrels… If we don’t change the environment will make us pay, the seas we have ravaged shall rise up and swallow cities whole. Oh yeah at first it will be the tacky sea side towns, and no one will be too bothered but sooner or later it will be a place people do like. The remaining fish that aren’t gay will turn on us and sink our fishing vessels and as our towns flood they will wreak vengeance upon us and have our women. The jungles we have decimated will stir its animal inhabitants to turn on man and screaming monkeys shall pull out our eyes and reset our games consoles after we have progressed loads but not saved for ages. The vast areas we have cut down for our cows to graze shall comeback to torment us as the dead cows we eat in our burgers become ghosts in our bellies. The Ice caps shall make a comeback even more glorious than John Travoltas re-emergence after Pulp Fiction in the 90s, and will be twice as baffling. Great sheets of ice and snow will cover the land, which will be fun at first but the roads will be a nightmare. Then the air shall take its turn at the revenge it has waited long for and heat up the earth and melt the ice and wash away the great sins of man. All will be gone, all will be lost, all will be forgotten… all will be pretty shit.

Yeah but what can we do to avoid it?:
It simple stop everything, as everything that man does kills the environment even typing this blog I used in electricity the equivalent of 9 dead whales. Just sit still, don’t buy or eat anything (even organic) and give your dying body to the soil and return what you have stolen back to the land. Otherwise I think we will all be doomed… or at least our kids kids kids kids kids will be…

If the above has effected you, and I’m sure it has you can donate money to your local landlord in exchange for alcohol. It doesn’t help, but it doesn’t hurt.

Well…. Sounds to me like we’re all pretty much fucked, suppose we’ve had it coming for a while now, cant argue with it. And with that solemn note we ring out the 10th edition of the Aldershot Woes. As ever I’m sorry if you actually read all that, but like me you probably just skimmed through looking for the swear words. Adios mi amigos…

You can’t follow me on twitter, as I am a master of disguise…


Thursday, 3 June 2010


Easy now… welcome to the 9th installation of the Aldershot Woes, the incoherent mind doodlings of a mad man served to you wrapped up in a tortilla of grammatical errors with a side salad of bastardized English and seasoned with just a hint of brain thumping ignorance… in short, a load of old cack.

Last week we looked at the decline of the world, and it got a great response. People were genuinely scared to go outside, on Saturday during the rain I noticed the streets were a lot emptier than usual… I put this down to the warning in my blog. This week though we are going to do something different, I don’t know what yet though, I usually just start writing and something comes to me by the third paragraph.

Errr, so then, the erm… ah… this is a little embarrassing… anyone see the footy? Oh, no Robbo does that doesn’t he… how about that government ay, the coalition showing cracks (not a pun about the gay fella) and what about the err the economy… ……….. yeah…..AHA! I got something… Today exclusively in the Aldershot Woes we put on our comfiest walking shoes and meander carefully through the exciting world of Tomorrow.

Science? Whoever invented science is an absolute pickled arsehole, what good has it ever done to anyone anywhere ever in the history of the entire world? I’ll tell you what good it’s done… none, its done no bloody good what so ever. Science prances round giving it the big I am, when the truth is it’s the little I aint… Oh yeah, Science may have made TV and computer boxes and heated our houses and flushed away our doodies and made us instant cappuccino powder, and given us mobile phones and mobile phone accessories and I-pods and J-pegs and T-strainers, it may have created prosthetic limbs and helped the deaf hear and the blind to see, it has created vaccines and saved the lives of countless billions of people, its cleaned water and given us cheese string and footballs rounder than we dared to have ever imagined, but what has it done for us lately??? Well a bloody lot actually and it continues to do so… Science is brill…

I have been lucky enough to see what Science has for us in the future and quite frankly it’s amazing, its so amazing my head exploded looking at it all, but luckily in the future there is a machine that puts heads back together again if they have exploded looking at the marvels of the future… To be honest so much is great in the future I have decide to break in down to the 5 key areas of modern life and shown the key advancements in those areas, if I were to divulge all the greatness science has lined up for us, we all be here reading in wonder for the next thousand years, which we will live long enough to do thanks to science!

In the future after the great coalition wars of the early 21st century Science will step in and save our bacon (or a more kosher analogy). Science with its brilliance realized the great problem with politics… politicians. So in the future Mac Scientists will step in and replace all politicians with I-pods. The I-pods are then loaded with a series of political dilemmas and choices for each dilemma. When an event transpires that requires government intervention the appropriate Album (dilemma) is selected and the I-pod is set to shuffle. Which ever outcome has the majority of plays, that is the direction chosen.
Want to lead the country? There’s an app for that… want to illegally claim a second home on expenses? There’s an app for that to.

Science being the great bloody bloke that he is has solved another great problem of ours, education. In the late 21st century class sizes are at an all time high, the average class holding about 200 pupils so science had to step in and slap it down. First of all science took all the teachers and fired them, then science went down to the local Mac shop and bought about 8 million I-pods. Each I-pod is filled with Science, Maths and English, the ability to bully people and to play football with a tennis ball. It’s a complete in-ear educational solution.
Want a generation of children to know their arse’s from their elbows? There’s an app for that. Want 14 weeks of holiday a year? There’s an App for that too…

Science and society go hand in hand like a gay couple in a soap opera, it’s a bit creepy but you have followed the story and you want them to be happy together. However it’s a turbulent relationship at best, society gets bored, science gives it a video game, society kills some one and blames sciences video game for it, science responds by inventing tamagotchis. It’s a vicious cycle of cylindrical viciousness. But Science has been the bigger man and got it sorted. In the world of tomorrow, the entire world will be digitalized and loaded on to giant I-pods. Now when society wants to do something it does it digitally inside a massive I-pod. This way no one really suffers, except for when people indulge in digitized society on the bus in the morning and everyone living the non digitized life has to put up with the tssst tssssst tsssst from there cocking I-pod.
Want a peaceful, tranquil existence where people are free to express themselves without endangering the lives of others? There’s an app for that. Want to be pregnant at 14? There’s an app for that too.

Science and sport go together like a darts player and a quantum physicist, one is a genius with a calculating mind seeking to better the world around him by his actions and dedication, the other does something to do with maths. But just because science throws like a girl and doesn’t understand the off-side rule it doesn’t mean he can’t improve upon the world of sport. One thing is wrong with sport, referees… they are a shower of shite from a cloud of vaginal discharge and queefs. But science in the future sorts it out big time, and the end result is a manly high five and a pint. In the future all referees are replaced by I-pods, as it was decided by science that one “I” is better than none.
Replays and goal line technology in football? There’s an app for that. A dodgy Russian linesman who gives a goal where maybe he wasn’t 100% sure it was a goal? We’ve got an app for that too.

Food… the greatest thing science has ever done, (see the case of sliced bread in 1623 for proof). Science has given us all manner of greatness through its culinary calculations, it is the true meeting point of practicality, human endeavor and dedication. With out science in food we would have bland tastes and no microwavable meals or pot based noodle snacks. It would be a sad world. And in the future Science and Food come together to form the pinnacle of human existence… the Pi-Pod, a programmable science pie capable of delivering any taste at any time at the push of a button. Imagine it, you get a brushed aluminum pie case with a sleek full colour screen, you select your crust, you download your flavors and then you get hit with a Terabyte of full fat free flavor… It’s the shit yo!
Instant satis-pie-cation from your food? There’s an app for that. There’s an app for just about anything…

So then, that’s the future and I-pods rule everything, god bless them… there is an app for absolutely everything even writing half assed blogs, although I would suggest a machine could never replicate the inane cack I write convincingly. So to summarize the last 2 blogs, yesterday was great, today is horrible, but its looking better tomorrow.

Ok then, that was the 9th Woe and it was a series of not very funny I-pod jokes, some were abysmal if I am honest other were merely shite and a couple were just about passable for Jimmy Carrs back up material. I like to mix things up. However as some of you are aware the Mrs is bloody close to giving birth, so my mind aint been at its funniest or most relaxed. If I am about tomorrow I’ll do another, if not I’ll be away for a couple of weeks with no guarantee of bloging or posting on blogs...

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