A surreal train of thought.

I thought I'd go home for the weekend. There's nothing wrong with that. I'm a 21st century man. I have two feet, a rail card and a small bag that allows me to travel anywhere I want.

Just think of the places I can go. I can go on the Eurostar and visit gay Paris. Or I could go to Brussels and witness the EU in riveting action. If I was feeling desperate to travel I could go to Belgium. But no, I fancy the high life of Wellingborough, just about the finest cosmopolitan town you could ever hope to visit in Northamptonshire.

I'm not a stranger to the journey. I'm at University in Kent, which means that until I develop some form of transporting time machine, it means I either have to drive there or get the train. Being a brain-dead student I'm clearly too thick to pass the theory test. And my parents are respectful British people who have a job to do, so I can't get a lift.

Shit. This means one thing. East Midlands Trains. There are two parts to my journey. I get on in Gillingham, the finest Cosmopolitan town you could ever hope to visit in the third world, and get the High Speed to St. Pancras. This part of the journey is rather pleasant if you don't mind me saying so. The train is punctual, there are plenty of seats, the floor isn't sticky and it smells nice. Once I get to London, I change trains and get East Midlands to Wellingborough.

The fun starts at the gate. This screen is the key to your life, as it tells you where you are going and when you are doing so. Seemingly you have to get as close as humanly possible to analyse deeply the information that appears on this huge screen that can be seen for miles. Presumably if you are 5 feet away from it you can't absorb the information, so you have to all charge towards it. A little old lady on her way to Corby has perished in the melee, while some nutter has reached the screen and starts climbing it, desperate for information, pressing his face against the glass screen.

Then the screen tells me that my train has been delayed by 463 hours because a magpie had taken a dump on the rails in Sheffield. This means that the 7,000 people who are huddled round the screen all sigh in tandem. It is at this point when I find out that the screen at East Midlands, St. Pancras has the second highest concentrated population per square mile in the world, just behind Mumbai. And this is because there aren't any sodding trains to get on.

I remember once a train turned up. After a goat was sacrificed for the gods to celebrate such a rare event, all 7,000 people boarded the train. Of course, 83% of the carriages were dedicated to First Class. Unfortunately I'm human scum, and so are the other 6,999. If your maths is correct (which in this blog it is, always, indefinitely!) this means that we're all rather uncomfortable.

I'm sadly sat down in the corridor with my knees tickling my eyebrows, and I'm outside the toilet. Every now and then the bog door opens and the smell of a person comes seeping out. Oh how I wish for the days of the High Speed service from Southeastern, where the train smelt of fresh strawberries.

I did eventually make it home to Northamptonshire, although my weekend was spent recuperating in hospital after I developed tuberculosis from a packet of East Midlands crisps. I was discharged just in time for the journey back.

So, if you want my advice, it is this. You can live in a dump like Gillingham. You may have to live in a third world, poverty stricken hellhole. However, your train will have a guarenteed seat and it will smell nice.

Festive TV...My Arse!!

Thank god for Caroline Ahern and Craig Cash, the writers of the Royle Family, for sparing my insanity and boredom at what turned out to be the worst festive TV in living memory. Even the BBC, who normally provide practically all the Christmas entertainment and cheer, fell some way short of delivering the goods that Santa manages to do in just one evening.

So, lets start with the bad. Christmas TV is infamous for it's continuous repeats and films that were lost from the archives in the 1950's. Well this year, it took the christmas pudding. The Incredibles, is well....dull. And while in the early stages of Happy Feet, even Ebenezer Scrooge can't not love the baby penguin, it becomes a tad repetitive. And although the Pirates of Carribean is a good film, it is also one of the most overplayed. Especially, the second one Dead Mans Chest, which I saw twice at the cinema but have seen 20 times on the BBC since. Then the fact that the third one, At Worlds End, took up a whole fecking evening of television and meant I did the usual thing and switched to Dave, where they at least admit that they show endless repeats and feel no shame in doing so.

Then there was the Queen's Christmas Speech, where my family sat down to play the annual game of guessing how many times she will mention the Commonwealth (it was 13 by the way). Yet it is amazing how this sweet, old lady is still the staple in the Christmas TV diet.

For a few years now, Channel 4 have been doing an "alternative" Christmas message to rival the Queen, and this year it was the turn of a girl called Katie, a former model who has a badly scarred face after her ex-boyfriend threw acid over her. While the moral sentiments of being grateful for what you have cannot be questioned, 1) It doesn't fit with the festive cheer, and 2) they showed her programme later that night which too...was a fecking repeat.

The TV over the new year has been equally as atrocious. Apart from "The Big Fat Quiz of the Year", which always guarentees a laugh, the choice has been quite simply apalling. There was Generation XXL (Channel 4), a look at a bunch of overweight children and their 'journey' through childhood. What journey is that then? The one involving the McDonalds drive-thru? Spare me.

There have been a few bright spots. ITV's Fattest Man in Britain, starring Timothy Spall and Bobby Ball, was hilarious yet heartwarming in equal measure, but also tackled the issues of obesity and miscarriages with great care.

(Left - Fat vs Fatter. Generation XXL has been a huge MISS, but Fattest Man in Britain was a huge HIT)

Better still, and the best show on this Christmas was the Royle Family. While not quite as good as last years outing, this was still a festive cracker that had good jokes in it! Concentrating on Jim and Barbara's 50th wedding anniversary, their son Anthony presents them with a stash of cash (helpfully chipping in was Dave and Denise with £20). Rows erupt as Jim wants a HD Box set while Babs wants to go abroad for the first time. So they compromise and end in Wales. Alas, there is no chip fryer, so they end up going back home. That very short description cannot do the show justice. Maybe this short clip will.



So, the decades TV bowed out mostly without grace, and lets hope that the 'teenies' (is that what we will call them?) end better than the 'noughties'.

Why Michael should be G-Owen to the World Cup...

For the last year or so, Michael Owen has been a laughing stock. Teased for his continuous injury problems, pilloried for his percieved lack of committment to Newcastle while constantly talking about his England career, and mocked for the infamous brouchure his representatives sent to Premiership and foreign clubs.
Yet Owen had the last laugh when he surprised the world by moving to Manchester United in the summer. Of course, he has now thrown away his reputation at Liverpool as a club legend, although who can blame the guy when the alternative options were Stoke and Hull.

Owen has made a steady start to his career at Old Trafford, but instantly endeared himself to the United fans with his silly-time winner against local rivals Manchester City. Yet against Wolfsburg in the Champions League this week, Owen once again proved why he should be on the plane to South Africa in the summer. They were three finishes of the Owen of old, pure instinct and finesse. And it also highlighted that the lad from Chester is an example of a dying art in the game of football, the "natural goalscorer". Out of all the English strikers, only Owen and Jermain Defoe can claim to be natural goalscorers, although Wayne Rooney is now regaining the deadly finishing ability that burst him onto the scene in Euro 2004. And that is why Owen should be a shoe-in for South Africa. While players like Darren Bent and Gabriel Agbonlahor have been more prolific in the Premier League in the last few years, the fact is that they have not been able to make up the transition from Premiership to international level. Owen is proven at this level, and who else is a better option to come off the bench in extra time when England could be desperately searching for that late goal to stop us heading to another ghastly defeat in a penalty shoot-out. Owen has the predator instinct that could give England that extra edge.

It is hard to pick many faults with Don Capello. The Italian has been nothing less than a revelation since being appointed manager, and he has made England a difficult and dogged team to beat. However, he is missing a big trick by not including one of the last natural goalscorers left for England.

So, lets assume that I am an Italian who strikes fear into all those who look me in the eye. My 23 man squad for the World Cup would be:

Robert Green - Consistent, in his prime, eager to prove a point.

David James - Experienced. Like a fine wine has improved with age.

Joe Hart - The young whippersnapper is playing regular football, which gives him the edge over Ben Foster.

Glen Johnson - The only right-back there is. Excellent going forward.

Ashley Cole - One of the best left-backs in the world.

John Terry - Duuuuuuuuuuur. He's captain.

Rio Ferdinand - While he's been off form, he is still a definite to go.

Stephen Warnock - Consistent performances. Just beats Leighton Baines.

Gary Cahill - No nonsense. Also a big threat from set-pieces.

Matthew Upson - Clearly in Capello's plans. 3rd choice centre-back.

Aaron Lennon - Pace and poise. An absolute must-have.

David Beckham - Experience, leadership and still has fantastic delivery.

Steven Gerrard - No explanation needed.

Frank Lampard - No explanation needed.

Gareth Barry - Capello's first name on the team sheet.

Joe Cole - A bit of creativity never goes amiss.

Michael Carrick - Putting in the performances in the Premiership. Sensible on the ball.

James Milner - Has put in a couple of superb performances coming off the bench. Can play on either flank.

Wayne Rooney - No explanation needed.

Jermain Defoe - Fast, natural finisher

Michael Owen - Do I have to go over it again?

Peter Crouch - Fantastic linking play. Impressive scoring record for England.

Carlton Cole - The lynchpin of West Ham. A nightmare to play against.

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