La Trasferta

E' uscito da un po' di tempo un libro scritto da un carissimo amico mio, praticamente come un fratello.

Il libro si chiama 'La Trasferta' ed e' pubblicato da Edizioni Clandestine. Come dice il titolo.... parla di una trasferta (!!!).

La squadra e' immaginaria pero' la storia e' molto reale e vista dagli occhi di uno che potrebbe tranquillamente essere uno di noi. Ci sono tutti i personaggi che - nel bene e nel male - fanno parte del panorama del tifo: alcuni ultras che vanno a braccetto con la societa', altri che non sopportano questo stato di cose, le guardie che si comportano da guardie, i giornalisti al soldo del potente ecc....

Io l'ho trovato cosi' appassionante che me lo sono letto in meno di due giorni. Se non siete dalla parte dei vari Italo Cucci e compagnia bella, piacera' di sicuro anche a voi.

Ice Cream, yum yum

Last Thursday the ice cream maker finally arrived in KT1. I had ordered it 10 days earlier and it seemed effin ages. Mark this date: 25 June 2009. It all started here :)
So far I have been experimenting a little with a good degree of success. First on the list it was strawberry ice cream, followed yesterday by blueberry. Today I put some raspberries to the sword (or should I say to the blender??).
Most ice cream recipes you find on the Net originate on the other side of the pond, therefore I am still getting to grips with their way of measuring ingredients. Anyway I now know how much '1 cup' of sugar is in real terms.
Today I felt a bit more confident and straying away from the fruit path I produced a pretty good rum & raisin ice cream. The only negatives is that maybe I put too many rum-soaked raisins and definitely too much rum. Oops.... oh well, I'll have to eat it all myself....

Come Fly With Me - Part 2

Having flown Easyjet to Rome last weekend, I think that it may be useful to add a paragraph or two on the 'tactics' that one may employ to have the seat next to you free when seats are not allocated.
First and foremost, make sure that you are among the first to board the flight - that really should go without saying. 'Doing a Usain Bolt' off the starting blocks as soon as boarding starts is of paramount importance. Casually strolling in aboard, thinking that you're cool as a cucumber, will mean only one thing, ie. that you'll be stuck in a middle seat for the next two hours. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Once you have managed to make most of your fellow passengers eat your dust and have secured the seat of your choice, your next job is to scrutinise your fellow passengers coming down the aisle and mentally draw your 'persona non grata' list. Ooohhh, that one looks like a weirdo. Hopefully he prefers a seat at the back... I believe that weirdos are ranked in 3 categories: 1) Little Bit Weird: if I really have to, I will sit next to one for two hours (after all I am not that normal myself); 2) Quite Weird: use all your peaceful means of dissuasion to avoid sitting next to one of them; 3) Russians: no comment is necessary.
Never mind weirdos, I certainly don't want to rub shoulders and elbows with the guy coming down right now, he looks like a scruffy dosser to me. Why do I want to avoid scruffy dossers (aka hippies, the great unwashed etc... you know what I mean)?? First of all, because any piercings on one's face (other than on the earlobe or the nose) simply gets on my wick. Dunno why, it's just stronger than me. Secondly because scruffies tend to have all the hygiene of a Bulgarian goat; probably the last time he had a shower, Newcastle were still considered a great team (and this is by their own fans). Thirdly because if - for some bizarre reason - I liked dreadlocks (and I don't), I'd live in Kingston, Jamaica, not Kingston-Upon-Thames.
Following the scruffy dosser, who has wisely decided to bring his body stench somewhere else on the plane, there is a rather normal looking bloke, although - as makes his way down the aisle - I get mixed signals. The good news is... he looks nice and clean. The bad news is... he wears a pastel-coloured jumper, wrapped around his shoulders (hhhmmmm). More good news as he smells nice and certainly had a shower today. More bad news (very bad in fact) as I realise that he probably sang "It's raining Men" or "I Will Survive" at the top of his (squeaky) voice whilst taking said shower... and rehearsed a few choreographed steps as well.
With all these despicable characters to avoid, the key question is: what can you do to make sure that they won't seat next to you??
Option no.1: you can pretend to have the equivalent of Siberia's gas reserves trapped inside you. Very good in theory. How do you do that though?? Do you gurn frantically like you're about to explode?? You never know, it might work.... Option no.2: you can try and look meaner than the meanest football yob. Again... very good in theory, lots of grimacing and teeth grinding involved. However if I practised that, passengers looking at me would simply think that I was in the middle of a gigantic Number 2, yes, right there, by the emergency exit on the wing, after all if you have to go, you have to go.
Having managed to avoid any of the above characters (obviously by sheer luck and no thanks to any of the suggested options), in the end, a couple (husband and wife) in their mid-fifties chose to take the plunge and sit next to me. What I know is that I was happy because in my mind my plan had worked perfectly. What I don't know is that the husband - approaching my seat row - probably said to his wife "Let's sit next to that old codger. He's a bit weird but looks harmless"...

Come Fly With Me...

For all my sins I am a frequent flyer, both short- and long-haul. Therefore recently I tried to write down a list of all the things that annoy me during all the time spent on a plane or at the airport. Are you ready to listen?? Here we go…

On most airlines passengers are given a hot towel, usually prior to that poisoning attempt, cunningly disguised as the in-flight meal. It’s actually a nice welcome touch (the towel, not the poisoning attempt), however why do stewards really have to collect the towels five minutes later with a pair of extra-long tongs and make me feel as if I am dying of leprosy? Just hold out the basket and I’ll chuck my towel in there, thank you very much.

And whilst I’m on the ‘meal’ subject, how many words and expressions is it possible to use to dress up a mushroom omelette? Wild baby hand-reared mushrooms... country style eggs… it’s still the same old bleedin’ omelette, no??

You can have an in-flight entertainment system with zillions of different channels, but it invariably comes down to watching an old episode of Friends or a documentary on how much money you could waste in one day in Dubai. And if you don’t want to watch TV, you can always listen to a music channel devoted to some pap that even your granny would find slightly outdated.

I am not too keen on the in-flight duty-free shopping magazines either. Does anybody sit there as the plane cruises over the Alps and think “Oh yes, I think I’ll buzz the slightly camp steward and ask him if they’ve got the Bvlgari diamond-encrusted matching watch and pendant set”??

On long-haul flights, many airlines offer kiddy packs – crayons, colouring books and comics – to younger travellers to alleviate boredom. Hang on a minute… what about us adults?? How about six back issues of FHM? Or perhaps a newspaper in a language or alphabet that we understand? In desperate times, even the poxy Herald Tribune would do.

Why does the captain have to come on the PA system and tell us how fast we’ll be travelling and how high we’ll be flying? There are no speeding cameras up there – just put your foot down I say. “After we’ve flown over Paris, we’ll be making a left and reach an altitude of about 30,000 feet with a tail wind of about 45 kilometres an hour”. Hhhmmm… I bet you that there isn’t a single person on board (with the possible exception of yourself) who frankly gives a damn. I don’t knock on the cockpit door to tell you what I’m going to do during the flight, do I?? Just get us to the place that it says on the ticket and that’ll do for me.

For me the ultimate in luxury and good fortune – if you’re travelling in economy – is to have the seat next to you free. And so you go through that ordeal of wondering if the person walking towards you is the one. But no! He’s walked right past. He’s got a seat at the back of the plane and not next to me. Snigger. What’s more, I can hear them closing the aircraft door. I’ve done it! I’m home and dry. And then the captain comes on the system to ruin your whole day in seconds. “Ladies and Gentlemen, we apologise for this delay. We’re just waiting for one or two late arrivals” And then you catch sight of him – wobbling down the aisle with a 42-inch waist. Ladies and gentlemen, here comes Blubberman. This professional pie eater pauses momentarily to check the seat numbers. “Yep, this is the one” he says, using his fat finger to point at the unoccupied seat next to you, before wiping away the copious amount of sweat trickling down his forehead. Is there a worse feeling in the world?

All considered, Ol' Blue Eyes didn't have a bleedin' clue when he used to sing "Come Fly With Me", did he really....

Tube Strike - now what?

Trying to win the Understatement of the Year Award, I'll go as far as saying that this Tube strike didn't make anyone's life easier. However if attendance in my office is anything to go by, it is also fair to say that the disruption caused to commuters and businesses in London was probably smaller than those five-knuckle shufflers at RMT were hoping for.

The disruption was not as bad as originally expected for two main reasons: a) the other main trade union (ASLEF) refused to join the RMT on the picket lines, which resulted in one driver out of three turning up for work as usual; b) perhaps Bob 'James' Crow underestimated the commuters' resilience and their resolve to get to work in the face of adversity, particularly if it means sticking 2 fingers up at the RMT and their ridiculous contractual demands. Personally I don't know anyone who was actually supportive or even mildly sympathetic of this strike, therefore it's easy to predict that this strike didn't do much to endear the RMT to Joe Public.

I sincerely hope that TfL officials don't give in to these small-time bullies and tell Bob 'James' Crow where to go if he doesn't drop his absurd stance. As a long-term solution, I wonder why we can't do like in some European countries, where the Army is trained as a stand-in replacement for essential services, like the Fire Brigade or train drivers. If the RMT decide to go on strike again (for a pathetic reason, like in this instance), let's call in the Armed Forces - it's a well know fact that Tube trains are so automated these days that driving one is hardly rocket science, so why don't we give this idea a go?

New iPhone 3G 32GB: good news and VERY bad news

From 19 June the new iPhone 3G 32GB will be available. These are some of its best features in my humble opinion: 1) apparently it's approx. 2x faster than the current iPhone; as Borat says... I like. 2) you will be able to shoot videos, edit them and and share them on YouTube (..... or some similarly named websites of ill repute, nudge nudge wink wink). 3) thanks to Voice Control, if you want to call someone or play a song, all you have to do is ask. Apparently VC will recognise the names in your Contacts and knows the music on your iPod. 4) you will now be able to cut, copy and paste words and photos, even between applications. Copying and pasting images and content from the web will also be possible. 5) finally you will also be able to forward messages. I say 'finally' because I think this is one of the main limitations of the current iPhones.

Enough of the good news.... now sit down before you hear the bad news. All this won't come cheap. Not cheap at all. If you are currently on a £35 tariff with O2 (like me), you'll have to fork out £275 if you choose a new 18-month contract or £175 for 24 months. Ouch.... In these recessionary times I think I will stick with my current phone until prices come down a little.

The price of democracy

Due to the poor turnout at the polls for last week’s elections, the BNP has managed to win 2 seats at the European Parliament in Brussels. Probably a part of the electorate is pretty angry with the mainstream parties for the expenses scandal so they wanted to vote for something ‘different’.
Anyway – whatever the reasons – the sheer reality is that now the BNP has two representatives in Brussels. I don’t think that I have much in common with the BNP, if anything at all in fact. I would just like to say that I disagree with them 100% but I don’t even know what they stand for exactly, due to the very little coverage that they get.
What annoys me though is hearing people saying that we should not allow these 2 MEPs to represent us in Brussels, or seeing angry mobs forcing Nick Griffin (the BNP leader) or his sidekick to abandon their press conference.
Sadly these two nutters were elected DEMOCRATICALLY, which means that they have a right to go to Brussels and a right to speak at their own press conference. We cannot have a law for mainstream parties and a different one for the BNP. Unfortunately some people thought it right to give the BNP their vote and – as much as it’s a wrong choice in my opinion – we have to respect these people’s vote. If you don’t want to stoop to the BNP’s level, then leave them alone. As for the 3 main parties, let’s just hope that they learn something from this totally embarrassing situation and make sure that it’s just a one-off.

Tube Strike

A 48-hour Tube strike has started tonight. For this we have to thank the RMT and its leader Bob Crow. I honestly can’t find enough words to show all my contempt for this lowlife. Tube train drivers already have one of the most generous contracts to be found in or around London. Excellent wages (compared to the sector average), plenty of days off etc... Obviously this is not enough for Bob Crow as allegedly his original demands included a 5% pay rise as well as the guarantee of no compulsory redundancies from TfL. In what world do the RMT leaders live in??

In these recessionary times, lots of people have lost their job or had to take a pay cut... and these morons want an above-inflation pay rise?? By bullying the RMT members and coercing them into strike, the RMT politburo have shown (ONCE AGAIN) that they have no consideration whatsoever for the paying commuters. Nowadays people like Bob Crow should only be seen at the Natural History Museum – along with other long-extinct animals – rather than at the negotiating table with the TfL officials.

However it is today’s news that the RMT would have agreed to call off the strike if two recently sacked RMT members had been reinstated. In my books this is the lowest form of blackmail, pure and simple. For the record, both drivers were dismissed over serious disciplinary offences. One was sacked for opening the doors on the wrong side of the train, then allegedly lying about carrying out safety checks. How picky of TfL!! What is a wrong set of doors between friends after all?!? The second driver will go on trial later this month for theft. Even Paris Hilton will be able to tell you that if you risk the chop if you nick something from your workplace.

Boris Johnson, the Mayor of London, was spot on today in labelling the RMT leadership ‘demented’. I think it would be rather fitting if this ‘James’ (Bob Crow) was run over by an overcrowded bus tomorrow.

Big Brother?? More like Big Snooze

The tenth edition of Big Brother has kicked off and the viewing public's reaction has been a big yawn. Let's be brutally honest here - it is a tired formula and the general public isn't interested anymore. I wouldn't be surprised (or disappointed for that matter) at all if this happens to be the last edition of BB.

In the first few years, viewers were attracted to this programme because of two main factors in my opinion; 1) the novelty factor;and 2) the BB housemates kind of represented a cross-section of British society. Now the novelty factor has definitely gone, in fact it went ages ago, roughly when the housemates eventually cottoned on the fact that there is a big prize for the winner and their behaviour in the house started being dictated more by 'winning strategies' (if there is such a thing) and less by their inner selves.

Additionally I would seriously consider sticking my head in the Thames wearing concrete shoes if the current housemates are a fair representation of society on these shores. For the vast majority they're just a bunch of 20- or 30-something publicity-hungry freaks. And invariably - according to the BB bible that isthe Daily Star - they are all sex-hungry. Always. 24/7. Without exception.

For a refreshing change, it'd be nice to have an edition when the BB housemates get enough rumpy-pumpy and are pretty happy with their sex lives. I wonder what the Daily Star would make of that....

As a parting shot, I think that a programme should knows that it's on its last legs when the Daily Star is the only paper that mentions it on its front page. Will BB producers take the hint??

That's enough "Talent", thank you very much

Am I the only one who is glad to see the end of Britain's Got Talent??
I have never watched this programme simply because I am not a big fan of freak shows, like BGT or The X Factor.
Yes, there are some talent acts that are certainly worthy of a big audience (Alexandra Burke, winner of the last X Factor, just to name one) however they are vastly outnumbered by the untalented and the freaks.
Quite frankly I have had enough of Susan Boyle(r), her exhaustion, her Alistair Darling-esque eyebrows, her messy barnet... she simply freaks me out, I just don't want to see her ugly face anymore.
I know I may be in a minority of one but I think that it's about time that even the tabloids started covering more trivial matters like our MPs expenses scandal.
The tabloids know how to make someone's life hell - ask that Scottish boyler for info - so why don't they use their 'talent' for a more worthy cause??

Freaky weekend in Rome

Two freaky episodes during a nice, albeit not entirely sunny, weekend in Rome...

1) I was driving in the car with my two daughters (13 and 12 year old), looking for a parking spot near our favourite pizzeria. Right next to it there is a rather mysterious nightclub.... well, that's what seemed to me, anyway!!! Parked our car, as we walk right past it I said "That's a strange nightclub, isn't it? No sign, no nothing...". My eldest daughter's only reply is a major sigh, the ultimate putdown like only teenage relations can do. My youngest one, sounding rather irritated by my ignorance (!!!), said: "Dad, can't you keep up?? It's a swingers club...".

WH.... WHAT?!?!?!I don't know what shocked me most.... was it the fact that there is a swingers club so close to my Italian doorstep?! Or that my daughters knew about it?!? I stopped very short of asking them if they knew what a swingers club is.... as I dreaded a positive answer (as well as the obligatory hugh sigh).

I really didn't know what to say!! For the next five minutes I was a bumbling buffoon of Boris Johnson-esque proportions, although some of you may argue that I am one 24/7....

2) We have all come across funny signs and posters when travelling abroad. So far the funniest I had seen was a sign in Thailand advertising a burger bar. However the hapless owner made a spelling error and - in between the U and the G - he wrote another G (rather than a R). And then they complain that their country has a dodgy reputation!! Although I suppose that even ladyboys need a proper job....

Before choosing a foreign name for their restaurant, owners should do their homework and check if the chosen name has a particular meaning. I have to assume that the owner of this particular venue in Rome is not planning to rely on the custom of local ethnic minorities!! Just have a look at this advertising board in the picture below - I am not even thinking of writing the restaurant's name down as I don't want a lifelong Google ban on my blog!!