grumpyf1

Right – I’ve carefully separated the different types of plastics, bagged them up, put them in the car and deliberately driven to the recycling bank, for I am a concerned citizen, eager to do my bit for the planet and conscientious by nature. OR AM I? *evil cackle* I live in a nice village in South Cumbria. So Southerly is my nice little village, that it’s very nearly in North Lancashire, where they do things very, very differently. Not just that business with the sheep - that includes the recycling. In fact, just about every county in the country seems to do things differently. I’m starting to think it’s some cunning plot to prevent migration. Bins of different colours, boxes of many hues, bags of varying shade (and strength) with no standards for what you can put in them that are the same from one randomly selected local authority-bounded area to another. I’d like to put... erm... a yoghurt pot in, please? Oxfordshire: Sure, pop it in the orange bag! Cumbria: No way!...

Where’s the snow then? I’m sure the weather forecaster said in October that it would probably snow at some point in January, so where exactly is it, then? They PROMISED. I want my money back... It’s chilly, isn’t it? Damn chilly. And there actually has been some snow, largely on top of those big, rocky things with the gigantic puddles in-between. You know the ones. Where all the tourists go so they can get lost in inappropriate clothing, fall off the big rocky things and need Mountain Rescue to save them. I know some Mountain Rescue folks – they’re all jolly nice and fit. As in healthy. Not attractive. I mean, some of them are attractive, but... I’ve got sidetracked again, haven’t   I? Good job there isn’t a word count limit to this Big Blogger business... Anyway, today’s rantlet (look it up, it’s a real word, honest) is about those folk who spot snow on a forecast as a possibility for 5 day’s time, and obsess about it. You know the ones – you haven’t seen a thing about it,...

“Sire, I bring thee greetings from the far lands, and a gift!” “A gift? For me? Go on, what is it then?” “Well, Sire, t’is an intricate set of small tubular pieces of metal, spun in an intricate web of fibre, with a teensy hammer in the middle.” “I see... what does it do, exactly?” “You attach it to the outside of your castle Sire, and when the wind doth blow, Sire, the hammer strikes the tubes, issuing forth a jingling noise!” “Won’t that annoy the neighbours?” “Ah.... Dammit....” I don’t want to get a reputation for being a ranty blogger, who complains about random stuff all the time in a tiresome fashion, but the problem with that is simple: I have already got that reputation, and I DO complain about stuff a lot. Hey ho – Sometimes you just have to go with what you’re good at. Unfortunately, there isn’t much demand for people with an intricate knowledge of the pop charts circa 1984, so I’ve got to blog instead. Today, I am having a go at those demonic devices, Win...

You know that blog post I writted (look it up) the other day about fog light users that are about as nice as the undead on a feeding day? Well, it's been cleaned up slightly, and is residing here on the North West Evening Mail's website, as I've entered a blogging contest. Basically, the competitors blog for a fortnight, and the one with the least hits each day gets eliminated. I think. It wasn't very clear. I may have just purchased a condo in Spain or something. Anyway, the prize is a laptop (niiiice!) and a weekly column in the paper for a year. Just think how many people I could offend in a year! Literally dozens!! If you wouldn't mind, pop over and have a look. I feel dirty asking for favours, but I've hacked your computer and know all your dirty secrets, so you've got to. Ta. (Blogging and blackmailing tunes by The Divine Comedy - Live At Somerset House)

Damon Hill is joining Sky's F1 team. This pains me greatly. For possibly no other reason than the simple fact that I can't afford it, I don't like the fact the Sky will have all the F1 races live this year, whilst poor people will get half, and a whole bunch of extended highlights, on the BBC. Or less, in other words. As you know, they blagged Brundle and kidnapped Kravitz, but Damon? I'll let you in on a little secret here - he's still my favourite F1 driver. Battling his way into F1, working hard, remaining polite and refusing to bad-mouth anyone (even that pesky German chappie), dealing with the death of Senna and then finally winning a championship against his new team mate, Villeneueve, before getting shafted by Williams and winding up in an Arrows with the number 1 on the front. Being resolutely high-tech, I watched a video tonight (well, there was bugger all on the box) of the highlights of the BBC's coverage of the Japanese GP from '96, whe...

When I get put in charge (which is bound to happen soon), I'm going to introduce a whole raft of new laws, for I shall be a just and fair ruler. I'm quite liking the title of 'Most Marvellous Emperor Of Sensible Regulations And Bountiful Lovingness Not To Mention Exceedingly Handsome', but it might be a bit long. On that basis, I'll settle for the more informal 'He Who Is Smashing' from my loyal subjects. Anyway, I digress. I do that sometimes - had you noticed? Here, then, is the first law that will introduced: grumpyf1 law No.1 - Turn your fog lights off, you complete git. Don't get me wrong; If it genuinely is foggy, fog lights are quite handy. The reason for introduction of this law is because 96% of the time (based on my own in-depth research) it isn't foggy when some utter cockwomble blinds you. This has always been a bit of a problem but in the last couple of years it seems to have escalated out of control, possibly because of the...

Do you remember selecting members for your team at school? Not a 'proper' team, arranged by the psychopathic PE teacher with the over-tight shorts and a tendency to shout a lot in a way that implied he was strangely compensating for something, but a mates team, during lunchtime. Captains get appointed and take it in turns to pick from the assembled mass. Well, the BBC have finally announced their TV F1 lineup. And it's clear Sky got to pick first. And second too. They've swiped the excellent Martin Brundle and Ted Kravitz (along with everyone from Five Live), so it was fair to say I wasn't expecting much. And I got even less. Alongside Coulthard, Humphrey (with his increasing twitter obsession about fitness training, his personal fitness guru and motivational phrases), Jordan and McKenzie, will be Gary Anderson and Ben Edwards. Gary Anderson I know - avuncular tech geezer, who spent a lot of time with EJ at Jordan. Cue Eddie joshing about how little he pa...

Some people are unlucky. Some people are REALLY unlucky. If you got those two, encouraged them to mate and then studied how amazingly unlucky their offspring were, you would still only be partially able to comprehend Robert Kubica's level of unluckiness (Is that a real word? Ah, it doesn't seem imprecindable.) Not content with damn near killing himself rallying, when he attempted to slice himself in half using armco whilst still in the car (impressive, that), he's now hurt himself doing something really bloody dangerous. Yes, he fell over in his back garden on some ice, and has broken his leg, meaning he needs another operation, some extra nuts and bolts and a month of plaster cast. He's got more metal going on than a box of meccano. Still, I live in Cumbria, so I can confirm - ice is nasty stuff indeed. Still... I have managed to not require hospitalisation as a result of a stroll in my own back yard. I guess I'm lucky. Or maybe just normal... Get wel...

The great thing about F1 rumours is that they change every 5 minutes. Just last week it was looking like Barrichello might be back in at Williams, as new engines, tech staff and a general reshuffle would mean they needed someone who actually knew what they were doing in an F1 car. Which rules out Maldonado, obviously. Now it looks like Senna might be about to get a seat with the team where his Uncle lost his life. I'm sure Bruno's mum must be delighted. I don't hold with all this superstitious mumbo-jumbo though, and with the extraordinary level of safety in modern F1 cars, Bruno should be pretty safe. There is one significant problem with Williams signing him though - and this is going to be a bit unpopular I suspect - Bruno isn't very good. Yes, he put in a couple of reasonable performances with Renault, but Nick Heidfeld (ah... Nick and his lovely beard...) would have been able to do likewise, has he not been dropped. And then they dropped Senna too. Thi...

You know how watching paint dry can be a teensy bit boring? The Valencia GP makes it look like a naked bobsleigh event when someone has painted your love-spuds with Go-Cat and released a trailer full of hungry moggies. On acid. The dullest thing since a Kimi Raikkonen interview marathon, the 2nd Spanish race (isn't 1 enough?!) has hardly been scintillating viewing. True, it is in a beautiful, coastal location and the old port buildings are glorious. The problem is, unless you get an aerial shot, the only thing you see during the race is concrete walls and catch fencing. If I want to see that, I can go to my local multi-story car-park. At least then I stand the chance of seeing something vaguely interesting. Like a mugging, or someone having a wee in the lifts. Valencia is duller than dishwater. If they can't afford to run it, the whoopee. Let F1 go somewhere more interesting instead. There are enough countries desperate for a race that holding two in Spain (largely be...

Having been chucked on the scrap heap by Toro Rosso (which is, of course, Red Bull Jr), Sebastien Buemi has been given the role of test & reserve driver for both his old team AND his employers. Good, right? Nope. There isn't a snowball's chance in hell he'll get a sniff of a run in the Red Bull - Webber and Vettel are highly unlikely to be giving up any mileage, especially during race weekends. And having decided he isn't good enough to race for them any more, Ricciardo and Vergne aren't going to be turfed out of their new seats at Seb's old stomping ground either. Being a test driver means very little nowdays. I suspect his knowledge of the team and how they work will help the Toro Rosso boys understand where they're going wrong with set-up when the newbies won't have a clue. I also expect that's about it. Turn the lights off when you leave, Seb. (Poodle-permtastic '80's rock has me head-banging whilst typing tonight - which ...

Patrick Head has finally called it a day and quietly departed from the Williams F1 team to pursue his lifelong ambition of being a pole dancer. Well, one of those facts is correct, anyway. Head has been in F1 longer that I've been unclear as to what the hell it is I am actually doing - and believe me, that's a bloody long time indeed. The somewhat intimidating Head was engineering Robin to Frank Williams' making-the-deals Batman, and the pair of them have racked up brilliant championships with some of the greatest names in F1, including my favourite, Damon Hill. But the team haven't won a race since that surly chap with a penchant for swearing, wild talent AND massive recklessness (not to mention a commendable ability to annoy the hell out of Schumi), Juan Pablo Montoya, was with the team in the mid 90's. Heading for 20 years later at an alarming rate, it's clear that the once great team have lost their way, and have been quietly putting new people in...

An odd thing has happened with this blog... and it's America! Or to be more accurate, the inhabitants of planet America. Mid-way through December the stats went off the scale (by my somewhat modest standards) and turned it into my biggest hitting month by a long way. January has already beaten a couple of previous months too, and the counter says the US is about to overtake the UK. Well, it doesn't say that as, in fact, it is an inanimate electronic counting programme, but hey - you knew what I meant, right? No? Bugger. I have no idea why, but there you go. If I was interesting, funny, up-to-date, or had some insider F1 news, fair enough, but I'm duller than a bowl of 2 day-old dishwater (which has some bits of left-over lasagna floating about in it, and smells inexplicably of diesel. And where the hell did that pea come from? I haven't had any for weeks). Welcome, anyway! I like you! Have a nice day! (If you're the CIA compiling a dossier on me, my real na...

...but not necessarily in the right order. Some of then are probably still lurking on the HDD recorderboxthingy (I liked it when you just said "video"), but here's the grumpyf1 review of some of the stuff on the telebox over the Christmas/New Year period. Handy hint: If I haven't reviewed it, it's because: a) I forgot to watch it b) I haven't watched it yet c) I'm not interested in watching it d) The damson gin consumed during the festive period has clouded my memory sufficiently that I don't recollect it OK... Here we go then... Doctor Who: A jolly festive romp, although I'm already hankering for the days when it was a good story with Christmas added in, rather than Christmas first. I found myself struggling to remove the image of the stressed Mum from Outnumbered from my mind every time Madge was on screen, the whole Xmas-present-that-leads-to-a-snowy-forest bit has kind of been done before (!), if you blinked you'd have missed...

I'm lucky enough to live somewhere beautiful. I'm unfortunate enough to be intrinsically lazy. I love walking, but faced with the tough choice of another chocolate HobNob or getting a bit puffed out on a big hill, I'll go for the instant gratification and non-sweaty option. This has presented me with a bit of a problem. I'm now seriously unfit, having done just one walk in 2011. So I decided to set myself a little challenged for 2012 - Walk 200 miles during the course of the year. Sounds easy, right? Yeah - I've only got to do 3.8 miles per week. I have set myself some rules - strolling to the shop for a cappuccino doesn't count; it has to be a walk for the sake of a walk. Distances of under a mile don't count either. 3.8 miles a week. Easy. Yeah. Except I work, so in the the winter, weekdays are out. Still, 3.8 miles every weekend - can't be that hard, can it? Can't miss a weekend though, or I'll need to do 7.6 miles the next week. And I live i...