Kick Your Blogroll Up The Arse

As instigated by Misssy M of the Misssy M Misssives, I'm going to give my blogroll a kick up the arse.

Misssy, inspired by her own laziness, has decided to venture out into the uncharted (by her) regions of the Blogosphere in search of pastures new, and is encouraging everyone else to follow suit.

Here are the handy copy-and-paste rules:

What you do is you go to four of your favourite blogs and pick a blog from their blogroll that you’ve never visited or commented on.

You then add them to your blogroll or feed, read them for at least a month (by which time there should be no turning back) and give them a chance to invade your life.

Then you duplicate the main part of this post with a note on whose blog you got it from. Stick the four new blogs you are going to read up , tell us briefly why you chose them and whose blogroll they came from.

And if you want, coerce others mercilessly into joining in. Then start reading.

Here are the choices I have made:

1: From Misssy's own blogroll, Gorilla Bananas' The Japing Ape. Looks like I've hit gold from the get-go: magnificently surreal in places, pictures of Britney snogging Madonna and a droll dead pan wit. What more could one expect of the world's leading anthropological ape?

2: Eric is, officially, my Blogfather, so I guess his blogroll would be another good place to look. Chosen completely at random, I've alighted at Quality Weenie. Who is, apparently, an Early Explorer, a Daydreamer and a dog lover. All of which sounds much like myself.

3. Big Rab likes good music, good football (and Dumbarton) and a good dram. Hopefully, his taste in bloggers is as refined as his other tastes. And the fact that Helpless Dancer's blog is called The Endless Note and that he describes himself as a music enthusiast suggests I'm in good company here. The Who, Glasvegas, Dr John and football on the front page is a good start.

4. And finally, from Erica's blog roll, Last One Speaks - "Musings of a complicated woman with simple tastes" - who's intrigued by her Oriental neighbours. Hey, now I'm intrigued too.....

No tagging from me - play along if you want to....

Nae Bather

Recently, I was a passenger on an Aberdeen bus.

Given that I had a hangover and had had only a few hours' sleep, I didn't have the Magic Tune Box pumping its wares into my lugs.

Because I didn't have the Magic Tune Box on, I was subjected to the conversations of the passengers around me.

As the bus passed through the Altens industrial estate, a black man alighted on the bus, a huge white grin greeting the passengers before him.

He was barely in his seat when his phone rang.

It became evident fairly quickly that this latest arrival on the bus was from Nigeria. And that we was deeply religious.

His first word upon answering the phone was "Hallelujah" - he was evidently delighted to hear from the caller, whom it transpired was his pastor from Nigeria, who had returned to Scotland the previous night.

None of this is the reason why the man struck me as unusual - although devout Christians from Nigeria aren't ten-a-penny in Aberdeen.

What struck me was the man's accent. He spoke in a broad, sing-song Nigerian accent - but his speech was littered with words and phrases heard only in the northeast of Scotland.

On several occasions I heard him say "Nae bather" (that's baa-ther, not bay-ther), "bra" (as in good, not over the shoulder boulder holder) and, at the end of his conversation, "cheerio".

I don't know why it's stayed with me since then, but I found the conversation comical, and I only heard half of it. Maybe I was still drunk....

Season 2008/2009: Match 7: Montrose v Dundee United

Friday night - what a shite time of the week for a football match.

Tonight's Forfarshire Cup semi-final between Montrose and Dundee United was originally scheduled for Sunday afternoon, but was moved to this evening at the Premier League club's request - I'm guessing so that the players can go out for a few pints to watch the Scotland match tomorrow.

Anyway, a stiff North Sea breeze kept everyone at Links Park cool, but the football on show was surprisingly good - five goals and a missed penalty ensured no-one was bored for long.

That Montrose won 4-1 doesn't really indicate how much of the play the young and pacy visiting team enjoyed. If David Goodwillie had spent as much time putting the ball in the net as he had mouthing off and girning, he'd have beaten Montrose single-handedly. Plus his penalty on the stroke of half time was honking.

But as it turned out, it was John Baird who stole the show with a hat-trick. Last season, only Celtic's Scott McDonald scored more goals in Scottish football than Baird, and the wee striker looks as though he's now rediscovering that form. In truth, the best goal of the match was Stephen Black's opener, the winger taking the time to control a cross, flick the ball up and lash a half volley over the goalkeeper.

Hopefully we'll see more of this type of football from Montrose in the coming weeks -typically, I missed the first win of the season when I was at Connect last weekend. But they're still unbeaten in the league, so maybe a promotion push is on the cards.

Backwards B

That Was The Week That Was

I'm operating on zombie-esque levels of sleep now what with the combination of Norway, Connect and being back at work today.

Norway was a strange experience - any country where three pizzas costs £75 and a round of drinks more than £100 is a tad too pricey for me. But we managed to see a bit of Stavanger in between the work sessions, and found enough free drink to keep ourselves going without taking out a second mortgage. A party on a traditional sailing ship in the sunshine on Stavanger harbour was the highlight of our time.

Our stay in Stavanger was fairly short, and within a couple of days my merry band was heading to Inveraray for the second Connect festival.

Highlights from the weekend were an incendiary set from Gossip, an all-too-short mid-afternoon slot by Elbow, a nostalgic run through Gomez's debut album and Friday night's headliners Kasabian blasting through their greatest hits.

And lest we forget, Rangers pumped Celtic 4-2 at Parkhead.

All in all, it's been a great week!

North Then South

The week ahead promises to be a busy one, with a spot of jet-setting preceding a weekend of music and pear cider in Argyll.

Tomorrow I fly out to Stavanger with five colleagues for the Offshore North Sea conference. I've never been to Norway before, so the novelty factor alone will make it an interesting trip, although the fact that I have to work while across the North Sea will take a little of the shine off.

Still, it's another corner of the world I'll be seeing for the first time, and it certainly beats three days stuck in the office.

I'm home alone at the moment as I prepare for my trip, Mrs Wife having left Dungroanin' on Thursday bound for Edinburgh and Cardiff, the former to take in some festival shows and the latter to see REM for the first time.

I'll arrive home from Scandinavia late on Wednesday night, and after a day in the office on Thursday, I'll be away to Inveraray for the second Connect Festival, where the bill this year includes Kasabian, Manic Street Preachers, Gomez, Franz Ferdinand and, most exciting of all from my point of view, Elbow.

Last year's festival felt like a well-kept secret, but I would imagine that this year's line-up will mean that a bigger crowd turns out. Still, as long as the weather holds and the pear cider is flowing, I'm sure it'll be another weekend to remember.

Season 2008/2009: Match 6: Montrose v Annan Athletic

Now, four games into the new season, I can confidently predict exactly how many points Montrose will finished the season with: 36.

Four games in, four games drawn. Montrose were so determined not to win this one that they smacked a penalty against the post instead of scoring and had a central midfielder sent off for swinging an elbow 10 minutes from time.

Annan looked dangerous, as befitted a team top of the league three games into their debut season at this level. They brought with them a vocal fanbase, and two flags that can be seen in the photograph above. I thought that the stewards were going to ask them to take the flags down, or stop climbing on a wall that generally doesn't look 100% safe, but they were merely asking that travelling Borders support move the flags higher so that they didn't cover the advertising hoardings.

Once again, Montrose's inability to kill games off when ahead cost them. In all four league matches this season, they've taken the lead. They've drawn all four.

The referee was useless. But that goes without saying in the Scottish Third Division.

Today's matchday programme provided some pre-match entertainment, with star striker John Baird taking part in the Players' Quick Eleven feature - 11 questions to help the fans understand the man beneath the shirt. I repeat a few of Baird's answers here verbatim with no comment other than it's just as well he can play football.

Q: What is your favourite cheese?

Baird: Tesco

Q: What is your favourite book?

Baird: Paolo Di Canio

Q: What players do you admire and respect in the division (ie Scottish League Division Three)?

Baird: Carlos Tevez

No Slow Train Coming

At some point yesterday afternoon, there was a landslide that covered a section of the East Coast Mainline between Stonehaven and Montrose.

As I understand things, ScotRail became aware of the problem around 4pm.

I arrived at Aberdeen railway station at 4.30pm, intending to catch my usual 4.41pm train home to Montrose. I was allowed to board the train as normal, and as usual it was fairly close to being full, with only a few seats free.

No announcement was made to tell passengers there was a delay until 4.50pm, and at that point we were informed that this was simply a delay.

At around 5.30pm we were told to get off the train as substitute buses would be running from Dundee onwards, and that separate buses would transfer passengers to Stonehaven, Montrose and Arbroath as required.

The announcements made over the station tannoy system were inaudible, leaving hundreds of passengers milling around the station concourse, joined each minute by new arrivals unaware of the problems.

Finally, all passengers bound for Edinburgh and Glasgow were urged to move outside (into the pishing rain) to queue for substitute buses. Everyone else was informed they should wait in the station.

Having waited until 6.30pm, I went out to seek further information. I asked a ScotRail employee whether any buses were running to Montrose, to be told "Oh, it's just left".

No announcement was made to the scores of passengers inside the station. There were still hundreds of people queuing on Guild Street in the rain, waiting for buses they were assured were "on the way".

I decided to stay in the queue, in case another Montrose-bound bus should appear unnanounced. While waiting, I got talking to the three people beside me, who were trying to get to Edinburgh.

At around 7.45pm, one of the women I was talking to set off to find more information. She returned around 8pm to inform me that a member of ScotRail staff was gathering a group of Montrose-bound passengers to travel in a taxi.

Thankfully, I managed to grab a space in the taxi, which left Aberdeen at 8pm, three-and-a-half hours after I had first arrived at the station, and I finally got home just after 9pm.

It is safe to say that I have never had the misfortune to deal with a company as disorganised, poorly managed and generally useless as ScotRail. At least three members of staff in Aberdeen station were truculent, moody and sarcastic when asked for information.

If the company is stripped of its operator's licence, it won't be a moment too soon.

So Has She

Yesterday's post on Rachel Hylton reminded me of the only other TV talent show singer who's blown me away - Fantasia Barrino.

I first saw this performance on Australian television in 2004, and I thought it was sensational. But I don't think I've heard anything from Ms Barrino since then.

She's Got It

I'm not generally a fan of the Popstars/Pop Idol/X Factor style of show, but very occasionally a contestant will come along that really does come across as a genuine stellar talent.

Rachel Hylton is one of those incredible few:



Am I the only one who thinks that's actually better than Amy Winehouse's version?

My Favourite Albums: Number 1: The Stone Roses - The Stone Roses

There are some records that define certain years for me - Oasis' Definitely Maybe was the soundtrack to 1996 for me, despite being two years old at that point.

There are records that I heard early on in my musical development, and which acted as stepping stones into new worlds - an appreciation of Paul Weller's solo work acted as a starting point for my forays into punk, soul and r&b.

And there are records that have had such a cultural impact that they are inescapable, and are as much a part of living in Britain as the Queen, Coronation Street and Tetley's tea.

But my favourite album is none of these. It doesn't define any specific point in my life, having remained a constant source of joy since the first time I heard it. It never encouraged me to find out more about any other bands, primarily because I was already well versed in the works of The Beatles, The Jam and The Rolling Stones by the time I came to The Stone Roses.

And while The Stone Roses is most definitely a British album - and Her Majesty is the inspiration for Elizabeth My Dear - the Roses never reached the heights scaled by Oasis and Blur in their wake.

But, since the age of 18, I've been unmoved in my assertion that The Stone Roses' debut album is the greatest ever made. Given that I regard The Beatles as the greatest band ever, it's a bold statement.

I was only nine when the album was released in 1989, and I didn't really discover it until it was almost 10 years old. It was actually the third Roses album I acquired, having received a copy of the compilation The Complete Stone Roses as a birthday present and purchased a second-hand copy of Second Coming from the magnificent Dundee institution that is Groucho's.

The Stone Roses grabbed me immediately. The opening bass rumble and nimble finger-picking of I Wanna Be Adored's intro sets the scene, and even Ian Brown's foghorn voice can't impact on vintage pre-Britpop psychedelia.

I could attempt to explain why each of the songs on the album is a classic (with the possible exception of Don't Stop - just Waterfall played backwards with new lyrics whispered over the top), or why the whole package transcends the sum of its parts.

But I can't, and I won't attempt to. All I can really do is urge you all to buy a copy of the album and give it a listen. And I'll leave you with the album's final track, the euphoric, climactic eight-minute burst that is I Am The Resurrection.

Groanin' Jock's Chinglish Adventures Volume IV: Let Me Care You

It's been a while since I wowed both of my regular readers with an example of Chinglish, the exciting language that bolts English words together in ways no-one from an English-speaking country (or Scotland) would ever have thought possible.

Today's example is from the giant panda enclosure at Shanghai Zoo. It's nice that the panda in question wants to care me, just like he cares himself, as we're the same age. And he gets to spend all day eating bamboo and picking his arse. I can only aspire to that kind of career.

For further examples of Groanin Jock's Chinglish Adventures, take a look here. And here. Oh, and here as well.

Broken Household Appliance National Forest

Is nothing built to last any more?

In the past few days, the dishwasher at Dungroanin' has packed in, and this afternoon the Jockmobile refused to start after a hard day of sitting doing nothing in the Montrose railway station car park.

The car I can understand - it does a lot of miles and sheer wear and tear over its seven-year life span is obviously going to take its toll eventually. Hopefully replacement of the starter motor will be quick and comparitively cheap.

But the dishwasher is more irritating. I'm fairly certain it was installed when the house was built, which is around three years ago. Maybe I'm old fashioned, but I expect a £450 piece of equipment to last more than three years.

The same can be said of MP3 players - I'm now on my third Magic Tune Box, and I only acquired my first in late 2004.

We've become an unnecessarily wasteful society, where nothing is built for the long-term. If something breaks, it can often be cheaper to replace it than repair it.

In what world does that make sense?

Season 2008/2009: Match 5: Montrose v Berwick Rangers

Scottish football can be a sadistic bitch.

It's rarely inspiring, and seldom drags itself beyond the the barest levels of entertainment.

In fairness, I expected little from Saturday's matches, given that I'd been out the night before, finally leaving an Aberdeen night club when the house lights were switched on at 3am.

I was up again at 9am, catching a train home in time to be parked on the couch for Falkirk v Rangers, the opening match from the SPL.

Having watched Rangers sleepwalk their way to an undeserved victory over a far livelier Falkirk side, I set off to my fifth live match of the season, in the vain hope that Montrose would defeat Berwick to record their first win of the season.

It all started so well for the home side, Chris McLeod rising unchallenged to head home Stephen Black's free kick in the seventh minute.

But the expected flood never came. Montrose dominated the match, but couldn't find a second. And sure enough, the visitors equalised with six minutes remaining, David Grant poking the ball over the line following a goalmouth scramble.

It was harsh on Montrose, who have now taken just two points from their opening two matches - hardly the form expected of title favourites.

I now demand a steward's inquiry - Berwick shouldn't even be in the SCOTTISH Football League - unless the borders have shifted slightly....

It's Worth It

A week ago, I was ready to hang up my football boots, having endured one on-pitch hiding too many.

With the works team a man short last night, I pulled on the kit once again.

And found a different world. We played well from start to finish, controlling the tempo of an ill-tempered match in which the tackles were occasionally high and late, and in which at least two players were lucky to stay on the pitch after a heated exchange that came close to blows.

I came off the pitch having suffered no new inuries and felt no ill effects from the previous knocks. I even scored as we recorded a 9-6 win in what amounted to a six-pointer.

A week's a long time in football.

Season 2008/2009: Match 4: Montrose v Cowdenbeath

Four games into my live football season. Just four.

Montrose have only played three competitive matches this season. Just three.

Rangers have only played two competitive matches this season. Just two.

Tonight, Montrose were knocked out of their second cup, and we're only five days into August.

Rangers were sent out of Europe with barely a whimper.

Football, so often my source of unbridled joy, doesn't feel much fun at the moment.

I really don't want to talk about Rangers any more at the moment, so I'll concentrate on the match I attended this evening, Montrose's CIS Cup First Round tie with the Blue Brazil (who, conversely, played like a yellow Wimbeldon.)

Aside from a faint glimmers in the second half, Montrose never looked like winning this match. A sixth minute header saw them fall behind and an 81st minute, 30-yard free kick finished the job.

Montrose started in a 4-5-1 formation, attempting to utilise Paul Stewart's pace wide on the right. The plan didn't work, with the diminutive John Baird given little to work with up front on his own.

Later, with Stewart pushed up, Montrose looked livelier, but Cowdenbeath never looked truly flustered.

Montrose's captain, central midfielder Keith Gibson, toiled in the middle of the park. Though big, forceful and determined, he lacks both pace and subtlety, and was frequently his own worst enemy.

Pass marks for the home side could only justifiably be awarded to Stewart and to defender Jamie Buchan, one of the few players on the artificial pitch who genuinely looked like a footballer.

Along with my fellow press corps members, I was asked to vote for the official man of the match. I was the only one to vote for a Montrose player, picking Jamie Buchan. But the award went to former Scottish youth international Joe Mbu, seen below receiving his award.

So, four matches in and I've not seen a Montrose win yet - in fact, Montrose haven't won since the end of last season. 2008/2009 could prove to be a long 10 months of football.

Universal

Mrs Wife and I watched the movie Cocoon last night.

It's the first time I'd seen the movie in what must be at least 10 years, but is probably considerably more.

There's something about family-friendly American movies from the 1980s that I just can't get enough of, and I've never quite been able to place my finger on it.

Maybe its the cheesy 80s pop that blares from every car stereo - a curious blend of pop hooks, synths and watered-down faux hip-hop beats.

Perhaps its the fashions that taste forgot, brought back into our sitting rooms as though from another world.

But most of all, I think it's the simplicity of the sets and the action. No CGI-assisted action; no computer animation; just wholesome family fun in a world before Pixar.

The list of those films is, I think, nearly inexhaustible. In addition to Cocoon, the films I'm thinking of are Batteries Not Included, Jaws, TeenWolf, Ferris Bueller's Day Off (perhaps not quite so family friendly), Home Alone, The Goonies, Weird Science, The Karate Kid and Back To TheFuture.

I was born in 1980 and therefore didn't hit my teenage years until the mid-1990s. So I grew up with those family films. And they showed a different world, which although broadly similar to mid-1980s Scotland, still looked alien to me eyes. America was a land where it never seemed to rain, where the toys and sweeties were different from those available on this side of the Atlantic and where aliens could feasibly be found living in your garage.

I doubt we'll ever see their simple likes again.

Is It Worth It?

At the age of 28, I should be at the peak of my physical and footballing prowess.

But another spanking in the Aberdeen Oil League last night has made a number of us aware that there's little enjoyment in paying almost £30 a month to take a weekly shoeing on the Aberdeen astroturf.

My recent footballing schedule has left me nursing the following injuries: tight calf muscles on both legs that feel as though they'll ping if I attempt anything strenuous like standing up or walking; a sprained wrist from an ill-advised spell in goals a while back; dodgy knees and ankles that have haunted me throughout more than 18 years of football; and what I now suspect may be a fractured bone in my foot from an 11-a-side match more than a month ago.

To be frank, I've been in better shape. And now I'm beginning to weigh up whether dragging my sorry carcass through the hard graft of competitive football is truly worth it.

French Terror Alerts

Alastair's Heart Monitor

It's always sad when a fellow blogger hangs up the keyboard and consigns their online missives to history.

But when the blogger bidding the blogosphere farewell is one of the most gifted amongst us, it's a doubly hard blow.

Alastair of Alastair's Heart Monitor is, for understandable reasons, about to call time on what, for me, could be the greatest blog out there.

No other site on the internet has ever held my attention on such a wide range of subjects - from the frequently bizarre world of Scottish football to rare Beatles tracks; from the dangerously barmy natives of North America to the spectacularly entertaining world of the libel courts.

Through Alastair's site, I've often been sent out into the wider world in search of further information - rare soul tracks, classic novels and vintage football footage.

While you still have the chance, I'd urge you all to visit Alastair's site, trawl through his archives and re-emerge into the world around you hours later, a plethora of new knowledge fighting for space in your brain.