Thursday, June 29

My Favourite Thing

Of all the things I blogged in the past two years (Have we missed the BW 2nd Birthday bash?) this is still my all time time favourtie link, clip, post, thing ever. Now with a bit of a video.


Monday, June 26

A Few Of My Favourite Things

As Nazi dodging sprog worrier Julie Andrews once sang; these are a few of the things that are down with the Wallet at the moment. God, I'm so street.


Lupe Fiasco - Kick Push - Superb new single from one-time Kanye collaborator, nice bit of down tempo hip hop.

Hot Chip - The Warning - Think Daft Punk if they were REALLY PISSED OFF ABOUT SOMETHING. Lush.

Fatboy Slim - Why Try Harder - Sadly not in chronological order, so you can switch off after 'Weapon of Choice', Rockerfeller Skank is still the dog's proverbials.

Girls Aloud - Chemistry - No, I'm not gay, it's really quite good. Honest.


Real Football Factories - Bravo - Cockney-wide-boy-apples-and-pears merchant Danny Dyer does the rounds on the most notorious of the Hoolies. He ain't heavy, he's my brother was pretty shit like.

AND NOTHING ELSE! Except the footy, natch.


MI:3 - or however it's marketed. It was OK, and that is stretching it a bit. Apparently he's dead all the way through it, as he gets shot at the start. Ah well, that saved you 8 quid, didn't it?


PES5 - PSP - 5 minute kick about over lunch at work? Oh fucking YES!

Guitar Hero - I am Lemmy. Minus the horrendous facial bits, obv.

More next month!

Sunday, June 25

Big Brother

I haven't really watched much of this - even though the missus has it on the telly, I'm usually on the PSP or whatever, and don't really take it all in.

It does appear to be slightly dull, which is a surprise seeing as the producers have installed some of the most psychopathic and twisted individuals available.

Well, for a start there's Pete, who DOES FUCK ALL except pull Jim Carrey style funny faces and say "wanker!" a lot. Perhaps he hasn't got tourettes, maybe he just speaks his mind.

Next up is ET-faced-grotesquely-titted-yorkshire-gobshite Lea, who, like her namesake at the start of Star Wars, thinks the whole universe is out to get her. Well they are, and being a nutcase bunny boiler plastic surgery freak doesn't help, does it?

Oh, it's so dull, I can't even be bothered to tell you why they're dull; in summary -

Glyn - The worlds finest Avid Merrion inpression
Richard - Oh, do fuck off.
Imogen - Spicy Welsh Sexpot they said before she went in. 36 (or whatever) days later she has still DONE FUCK ALL except talk Welsh with Avid Merrion.
Nikki - How is she still alive? Are people really like that? No, surely not?

And some others whom I have forgotten.

Just watch it will you? Then you can get all excited about it, like the Teenage Girls and that. To me, it's just a bit.......zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz......

Friday, June 23

The Burnley Wallet - Another (Much Needed) Update

Well, chiefs. It was nice while it lasted. Oh, we had the terrifying lows, the dizzying highs and the creamy middles (© The Simpsons). And we've arrived at this.

You see, the Wallet has done us proud for a couple of years now. Myself and my colleagues, Mike and KG, have put our hearts and indeed our souls into this mighty site you are reading now. However, we appear to have gone our seperate ways.

KG was last seen on Alastair Brownlee's door step minutes after the final whistle of the Steaua second leg, after the adrenally misguided Browlee offered free parmo to all. Neighbours reports of a Grizzly in Linthorpe are unproven.

Mike has gone to work freelance for Pub Walkabout Monthly, who, impressed by his tales of nights "in da Boro" , have paid him untold riches to write "....then we went to Lloyds." over and over again. He is also the new Phats and Small, but only one of the adjectives apply to him.

But hey, reader, don't be down! They can still blog when they like!

So, that leaves me. Don't fret, I'm going nowhere - I've been pondering over starting anew on something else, or just tweaking the Wallet for my own needs, or just finding two more lardheads to go drinking for me. I'm pondering still. You'll just have to wait and see, won't you?

Tuesday, June 13

Three Pound Coins in a Foreskin

On the 4th of June, myself and KG made the short car journey up to the Riverside at Chester-Le-Street to watch Durham and Yorkshire have a bit of a 50 over knock about, cunningly disguised as a cricket match.

The trip there was almost pain free, apart from KG getting soaked whilst at the cash machine and some slight "pedestrian zone" related lost-ery. The rain wasn't to last however.....

After taking our seats in the slightly damp (but by now getting warmer) Riverside, the match began. You can read a bit about it here.

Come half time, or indeed "the interval" myself and the bear were shocked to find that if we wanted we could go on the pitch and have a go ourselves! Lacking the relevant sporting equipment/knowledge/bodies we decided to content ourselves with watching the kids have a bash instead. The stars of the show though, were the dads. Convinced that Michael Vaughan might be watching, they sent down bouncer after bouncer to their tiny 8 year old kids, only to see them swatted away for 4 by the child prodigies.

By now, the sun was a bit fucking naughty by all accounts, and the smell of sizzling grizzly made me regret not bringing the sun cream. KG was too pissed to notice, and continued sinking his pre-bought cans of Carling at record rate.

After the unbelievable climax to the game (see above), we made our way out of the congestion around the ground, narrowly avoided being caught up in a hit and run incident, and sped toward the freedom of the A1. Which was clogged like KG's parmo soaked arteries. So, to pass the time, we decided to bluetooth abusive messages to passing drivers. The only one we could get though was called "Three pound coins in a foreskin". He was a postman.

We arrived home just in time for Top Gear, slightly overcooked but heartened by the genius of it all. It's only 30 mins up the road. You HAVE to go sometime.

Saturday, June 3

Sun is shining......

And I'm stuck at fucking work, doing an upgrade that can only happen when no-one is online. Grrrr. I started it last night, and was back on the job (ooh-err) this morning at 9.

So I've missed the cricket, and I'm listening to the footy now. Could have been worse though, it could have been next week, but the Boys from the Wallet are off to Liverpool to drink beer and (probably) smoke cigars instead! Tracksuits at the ready!

'Ey! 'Ey! Calm Down!

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