Showing posts with label Freezing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Freezing. Show all posts

Saturday 16 January 2016

Musing


An item caught my eye the other day that lingers in my mind.  It was one of those celeb things that irk me so much. This one featured Brooklyn Beckham the son of the failed footballer and his stick insect wife.  These two have made a living by posing, him with a dumb expression that comes from his head and she by pouting in the same posture she has used for these past twenty years.  Neither have actually done anything, he was an overrated player who Fergie dealt with correctly while she sang feebly in a band based on 'Girl Power,' a power invented by a male by the way.  Later she was making an album when the recording studio stopped her as it 'would not sell.'  How lucky are we?

Anything is used to gain cheap publicity, cheap publicity which brings them in millions!  
There children similarly are being used for publicity and Brooklyn, named after the place where he was conceived and isn't it lucky he was not conceived in the Balls Pond Road!  Anyway he apparently has an Instagram account, whatever that is, and is followed by some 5.8 million people according to the ever reliable 'Daily Mail.'  Five point eight million?  The lad is only sixteen!  
What has he done to earn, or been given this following?  Indeed why does anybody follow the Beckham's in the first place?  The pair of them are as false as a six pound note for crying out loud, and there is nothing there!  
Millions follow these people for what reason, what do they get out of following two grossly over rich people who do nothing?  He played football she has her own fashion designs (does she actually design them?) and they have children, what is there here?  How can a sixteen year old who has merely posed with dad have such a following?  
I have done nothing, been nothing, failed at everything I have touched just like them so where is my following making me millions?  Where are the companies desirous of my presence where adverts for their products are being made?  If you wish a nobody then here I am!
Bah!


Some years ago this man, Mark McGhee, attempted to become the manager of the Heart of Midlothian.  He changed his mind at the last minute and avoided meeting the then chairman, one Mad Vlad Romanov, he who himself has disappeared from the face of the earth to avoid his debtors. 
Instead he awaited the call to become the manager of Celtic football club, a club he once played for but was rather upset when the job went elsewhere.  However he was appointed manager at Aberdeen and got the fans behind him at the start by claiming "I really wanted the Celtic job but this was all that was on offer."
Such ability to endear himself to the fans was enlivened some time later when his players, many of whom did not like him or his attitude, got stuffed by 9 goals to nil from the Celtic team.  Marks response was to say "Well it's really only three points," while giving the clear impression that he cared not a jot.  His team floundered and he hung on until sacked, the integrity of walking away from a failed job as not in his character and so he left football for a while.
His friend Gordon Strachan, the man who left Celtic and opened the avenue for Mark to think the job was his, took our man as his assistant when he got the Scotland job, a job he, Strachan has been  doing reasonably well in the circumstances.  Circumstances that have failed us by the way.  Recently Mark undertook a new job as manager of Motherwell football club, a major part of Scotland's football world.  The team were struggling somewhat in spite of containing many decent players and Mark McGhee has turned them around and seen them rise up the table and it will be no surprise to find them finishing the season in the top six come May.
However I suspect McGhee has a purpose in all this and Motherwell football club play only a bit part.  I suspect our man will be hoping the present Celtic manager gets his jotters come May and our man reckons that by doing a good job at Motherwell will allow his name to be put forward (by him and his agent) in the hope that he will at last get the Celtic job he so desperately desires.  
One slight objection to all this was the visit of his Motherwell side to Tynecastle Park which as you know is the home of the Heart of Midlothian.  This the team he rejected, this the team he claimed during the week would not be allowed to 'bully' his team and this the club that did not bully but did defeat his Motherwell side by SIX goals to NIL! 
Tsk!



You will have noticed that Mark McGhee was pictured standing in a snowfall.  That is because it is freezing around here and up there the snow was falling so hard many games were off and some abandoned half way through.  Here we merely had a smattering during the night that had gone before I woke and the sun shone through the freezing air all day.   
I hope those of you in climes where 40% of heat are causing to you complain realise how difficult it is to type when frostbite gnaws at the hands!  Drinking tea is hard when you have to chip the ice off beforehand.  I sit hear with my feet on the heater and an icicle on my nose. 
Bah!

Tuesday 15 December 2009

Freezing Cold!



It's too cold to post here in this freezing place.
So here is a picture of somewhere warm where I ought to be!


Wednesday 14 January 2009

Freezing Fog




As I took of my mitts to reveal the woollen gloves with the fingers cut off, unzipped the sleeping bag and threw the cold hot water bottles on the floor, pushed back the duvets, blankets and coats piled on top of me, I realised today would be somewhat chilly. I was right! Freezing fog hung over everything and in spite of being dressed for a quick search for the North West Passage I still felt the frostbite tingle as I trudged slowly to the soup kitchen. Watching people dressed similarly to me slip sliding away along the pavements I came across several in bright yellow clobber. That reminded me of Billy Connolly's tale of Aberdeen holidays. As a eight year old he was forced into swimming trunks and encouraged to"Get in the (North) Sea ya big Jessie!" by their mothers. Meanwhile, forty miles offshore oil rigs swarmed with men dressed in several layers of clothes, covered in bright yellow oilskins, desperately attempting to keep their body above freezing point! A mothers care never ends!