Category Archives: Kevs Anti-Rants

Toof-gate

I had dentist this morning, and boy was it fun!  It all got rather messy and I bled everywhere due to a slight complication (my old dentist did a crap job of the root canal which broke) and is now thankfully corrected.  My dentist asked where my surname was from whilst reviewing my history (I registered with a new practice before my trip due to the broken tooth).  One of these days I’m going to say I got it from Argos.

So, I told him, the truth and suprise surprise, he’s Indian. He also lived in Tanzania (rather like my colleague Hitesh), then England, then Pakistan, South Africa and finally back to the UK.  Very interesting guy.  Turns out he had to get the same front tooth as I had crowned (aged 10) because he fell out of bed in Karachi, on to a stone floor.  Ouch.  That’s his tooth, not mine, I lost mine due to a freak swimming pool accident!

I had a really funky conversation with him and he gave me some really good advice about my gnashers.  At one point he had to take a mould of my teeth and asked if I had done an impression before.  I replied “Yes, I can do a really good Ghandi” and he laughed pretty hard before finally continuing on and drilling my face.  Good old Indian Camaraderie!  I almost didn’t feel bad about being charged several hundred quid for the toof!

So, for 11 days I now have a temporary silver cap in place until I go back for the porcelein crown to be fitted.  I feel like a cross between Jaws in James Bond, a complete pimp and Long John Silver.  Or should that be Long Dong Silver……..yeeehaw! 

Sorry, I think I might be intoxicated from the injection.  Ahem.

GEORGE BUSH STINKS!

Howdy y’all!  Giggety Giggety Giggety.

Well, I finally arrived, slightly later than schedule thanks to Uncle Sam and his bungling buffoons at Newark Passport control hall.  It’s no hardship now, but at the time I was pretty ready to go into orbit due to being stuck in the biggest queue I’ve ever seen Stateside; all the time wondering why the queue wasn’t going down and only then to see people queue jumping en masse. 

I realised almost immediately that I’d visited America at totally the worst time ever (in respect of travelling through airports), St Patricks festivities was about to kick off and Spring Break was kicking in.  Everyone and their grandma was hopping on a plane.  HOARDS of Irish lads were pushing in left right and centre ready to get on the craic, and just about everyone started playing tit for tat with them and joined in.  It was chaos.   

Now the ‘old’ me of ten years ago would have been in on that action straight away, I’d have pushed up in front and been supping on root beer outside the transfer gate with time to kill before boarding my connecting flight, but not this time.  I couldn’t risk being anything but the perfect guest.  And I had bloody good reason.

When I last left the States on August 2nd 1999 an ex of mine tried her very best to clip my wings out of spite and get me in serious trouble with FBI and Homeland security after 9/11 (which happened the following month) had come to pass.   I had them calling me up, asking me all sorts of questions, getting me to send in documents and to justify all my sources of finance, political motivation and for some time I was pretty concerned I was going to be hauled off to the Embassy to face charges.  Although that was eventually cleared up but it served as something of a catalyst for my brief lovers spat with the USA.  More specifically, the Bush administration; sheep violators extraordinaire.

In retrospect I thought I had it made until I was confronted with the sight of the queue at passport control.  The flight to Newark from London Gatwick was a breeze, and having won 30 quid (pounds) on the fruit machine with my last two nuggets (thanks Dad) I thought my luck was in for the rest of the day.  However , not so.  Passport Control had gone to hell, organisation had disintegrated due to various scare tactics and ultra conservative bilge spewed out by the current government.

Due to the mismanagement with passport control I consequentially missed my flight.  Cheers George, you totally deformed boss eyed midget f*ckface!!!!

I was quickly faced with the stark reality of having to wait in the airport for 24 hours or possibly get a hotel room because there were no more flights to Kansas City.  I was not happy at all.  Dejected, I hobbled over to Continentals Flight desk and they presented me with an option of going on a flight to Houston and then on a late flight to Kansas City.  Woohoo.  I phoned Amy (my extremely gracious host) and ranted with her for a short time before dashing off. 

Houston was always my first choice whenever I came here, it’s HUGE and people there are a world more friendly than the neanderthals that seem to populate Newark Liberty; ironically my return ticket is via there so I’m pretty relieved about that. 

When I got into Houston I was told by a very nice lady doing the check in for the Kansas City flight that I had to wait to see if people didn’t arrive to take their seat (on a very small 60 seater plane) before I got mine.  Great, more lies at Newark.  My heart sunk.  Bugger.

I sat there quite despondant for 45 minutes which felt like an eternity; eventually arriving at the realisation that I was being a hugely fantastic prat and quite the drama queen (and that millions of people were in vastly more serious situations around the world than I) before I eventually got the call to say some poor sod had missed their flight.  Wooohoooo!

I didn’t care that I had cashed in on someone elses misfortune but hey, you can kiss my distinctly genetically confused behind if you have a problem with that.

So, I eventually arrived to Kansas City International around 5-6 hours after my previous scheduled time.  Thankfully my baggage was where it was meant to be and even though it was a bit tenuous at times, the airline had come through for me.  Amy was waiting with a HUGE bag of food which I was too tired to eat and I legged it out into the parking lot before ‘The man’ could stick me in an orange suit and send me off to Camp Torture.  Ha ha, up yours ugly!

I was never so glad to be ‘home’, and on the 40 minute drive to Amy’s I quickly relaxed back into an environment which was a million miles away from scaremonger city; a place that ultimately felt akin to slipping on a comfortable and favourite pair of shoes which I’d found in the back of my wardrobe. 

All the way to Olathe (where I’m staying) I couldn’t help but feel that the Bush administration had made changes which fundamentally threatened everything I had loved about being here, countless times travelling that day I heard Americans being very vocal about their displeasure with the situation around the world, the economy back home and also how scared they were of a terrorist attack. 

I was so relieved that I could see the potential of seeing the tide starting to turn.  Hearing Americans being critical of their country is not something I ever thought I’d hear (apart from the usual Redneck cynic, who I might add are my favourite people in all the world) and for the most part, it’s very sad because I know how patriotic I am of my own country.  I shared their sentiments, our own government is a corrupt and uncaring cancerous blight on the British people just as much as theirs is on them. 

Ultimately it made me realise that government influence can convince or force people to move in certain directions for dubious gain, but the steadfast core of people themselves don’t change and will eventually rebel back to where they should be. 

It made me feel a lot more positive about where things here are heading given the pending election; I very much hope that someone steps in and starts rebuilding the image of the States internationally which reflects the heart of most people here, and of course stabilise the economy because it’s getting bloody expensive!   It pains me to see people have a bad opinion of most folk here, I’ve generally always experienced great kindness, consideration and curiosity of my way of life.  Not the endless war machine you’d see portrayed on sensationalist news programmes.

My advice?  Try not to be too suckered in by the news reports back in England and elsewhere outside the US; it’s not all blindless devotion to the red white and blue.  Not by a long shot.  People here seem absolutely sick of how things are, yes they initially followed the government through a sense of patriotism but then you can find that misgiving (if it is one) in Britain as well.  We were all lied to. 

Still, I see a lot of good things ahead and I shall do my bit by investing in the American economy, shopping till I drop and eat good hearty things which a dietician would cringe at.

On a very personal note : OI!  BUSH!  SORT IT OUT AND RESIGN NOW!  AND TAKE GORDON CLOWN WITH YOU!  I SHALL NEVER FORGIVE YOU FOR MAKING ME MISS MY ‘FIRST NIGHT IN AMERICA IS STEAK NIGHT!’ TRADITION.

OK, rant over.  Happy happy joy joy.  I’m off to McDonalds.  Hopefully 🙂

Buckaroo!

S.O.S. URGENT HELP NEEDED! – KRISH-AID 2008

PLEASE HELP!

Last night the British Isles experienced heavy storms and flooding across the country leaving thousands of people stranded in rowing boats, washing up bowls and Barbie big pink princess lilos.  The British people were already suffering having been hit by an Earthquake on 27th February 2008; hundreds of people in Lincolnshire are still desperately needing new chimney stacks and restoration crews are already overstretched. 

Seeing as we’re always the first to send aid, does anyone know if Pakistan are going to send some help our way?  Armenia?  El Salvador?  Indonesia? Fair’s fair surely?  Come on you bunch of gits, I need some wellies and a fruit of the loom t-shirt!  ::: Mutters ::: Flipping selfish people in their straw houses……

For just £2000 a month, YOU can sponsor me to feed myself, buy a big plasma t.v. screen, fix my bloody tooth and generally live a decent quality of life. 

If you want to make a donation, please leave a comment on this thread with your contact details and I’ll supply my Paypal info.

God bless you.

Ramblings during a very wet lunchtime break.

I’m currently on lunch at work, rather short of money (given that it’s all now in Dollars for my forthcoming trip), and also because we’re having a rather nasty bout of weather in England.  So, I am sitting at my desk, looking out the window and pondering the greater mysteries of life.  Namely:

1)  In Microsoft word you can highlight a full stop (period), change the font to a value of 1638 but not above.  Why 1638?  Having looked for ‘1638’ on google I decided to have a mooch on Wikipedia.  Strangely enough, there is nothing on there to suggest Bill Gates had a ‘LOST’ moment and decided to subtely link a relationship between the maximum font value in Word and the year 1638.  Having looked, wasn’t 1638 a bloody boring year?!  The only thing I could come up with is that 50% of 1638 is 819, and when you multiply 819 by 2 you get 1638.  Wow!?!

2)  My mind really began to wander at this point.  I began to ponder if anyone was actually REALLY called Kenny Lingus?.  So I decided to google it.  Up popped a link to a fairly established ‘Dr Kenny Lingus – Oral doctors play outfit’ product but no Kenny Lingus.  I had intended on writing to him but could not find an address or e mail contact.  I’ve decided therefore that this is now a personal mission, I must find Kenny Lingus.  Should you enjoy the company of Kenny Lingus, or be able to offer any insights into Kenny Lingus please leave me a comment on this thread.

3)  The last thing I pondered today is that suspended ceiling tiles are really rather boring?  Seriously.  Aren’t they??!   Why hasn’t a company gotten into this market and decided to provide a mosaic ceiling tile service?  “Have your favourite picture broken down into separate tiles and suspended above your very head?!?  Yes, YOUR head?  Only £999.99“.  It’s brilliant?!  Just imagine how trippy it would be if you had a picture of a giant pommegranate?  The seeds….the seeds….they’re taking me away from this extremely boring and grey mundane office environment!

Bugger, time to go back to work.

Kill me?

Stoopid toof!

How quickly ones fortunes can change? 

Last Thursday I was biting into my dinner when ‘POP’, the tooth next to my canine (upper 4 left for all you dental enthusiasts out there) broke.  The tooth in question was a root canal filling and for some reason it decided to go when I was eating, of all bloody things, the salad from my kebab.  Unbelievable.  A piece of cunty cucumber, no lie!

After quite a scramble I eventually managed to find an emergency dental surgery (British Healthcare is in quite a state, or ‘two and eight’ as is commonly known in the East-end of london) and sat down into the dentist chair to be told I’d need to consider having the tooth removed entirely or have a dental implant to the tune of £1000.  Why replacement of a dental implant required a tune is beyond me, perhaps I could get a discount being in the ‘Biz’?  Sort of.

Anyway, the very nice man eventually found that the remainder of my tooth was ok and that I’d require a Crown (£400) to provide a long term solution.  I felt quite annoyed to say the least but that’s the way a calcium-defficient bone crumbles non?

Working for my employers I am entitled to profit related pay if I meet specific criteria.  Due to recent results I was due to get around 2 weeks wages.  Brill.  I planned on paying a good splurge of this on some remaining debt for some musical equipment but alas I have to pay for this smegging tooth.  THEN I find out this week that I am not elligable for the PRP bonus so I am now faced with said tooth bill.  Huzzah.

So, I’ve been getting into work at 7am each morning to do some overtime, I’m faced with doing 10 hours on both Saturday and Sunday of this weekend, then another week of morning overtime before I eventually go away.  AND I’ve got to have all my wisdom teeth out within the next 3 months at hospital.

BLIMEY!?!?  HOW POXY IS MY LUCK!!!?  I MEAN COME ON!!?! 

Said equipment costs will be taken care of, I’ve also lobied an official appeal so keep your fingers crossed ladies and gents. 

So what, you may ask, is the moral of this story? 

“Brush your teeth more often and don’t eat salad because it’s fucking bad for your teeth!”

Thursday, 17th January 2008.

MY BAD

The dilution of language over time is as inevitable as the evolution of life itself  (apologies creationists everywhere, but you’re just bloody wrong and you know it, “the world is 6000 years old” my arse………..).

I am fascinated by the variation of English words and origins of key phrases which have mutated over the years due to various influences in the history of the British Isles.  Bum, bugger, spitoon, philanthropist and filth for example.

Alex pointed out to me recently that the word Blighty (Victorian-present era slang phrase for Britain is Old Blighty) originates from the Hindustani word vilāyatī (pronounced bilāti in many Indian dialects and languages) meaning “foreign”.  Considering the colonial influences and also their relevance to our somewhat exotic ancestry I thought this was quite ironic and pretty cool.

That said, one phrase which seems to have creeped over here from the States recently is “My bad”.  People now use it in my office, Optimus Prime says it in the latest Transformers movie and it won’t be long before some opportunist R&B git writes a song called it either (My money’s on Craig David) along with the usual over the top harmonies (eiiii eee eiiii eeee ooooo eeee oooo whooaaaaa whoooaaaaa represent baby, maaaaaah baaaayaaad!) vocals. 

I spent a fair bit of time in the States during my twenties and still love how informal language can be in and around the US, but no matter how much I try I honestly can not stand hearing someone say or even type “My Bad”.  It’s just wrong!!!  WRONG I TELL THEE!!  IT MAKES NO SENSE AT ALL!?!!?

For a start it flipping sounds like the sort of thing Captain Caveman would say (unga bunga!), what’s so wrong about “pardon me” or “excuse me” instead?  I even prefer someone to use “ooops!” instead of my Bad?  No, no, no, no, do it in my presence and you will suffer a fate worse than death. I will most likely moon you.

MY BAD?!?!  STOP IT NOW!

Saturday, 29th December 2007.

Howdy true believers.

I hadn’t intended on posting a rant this year, but a couple of bits in the news over the past few days have really twisted my melon and I felt the need to vent!

First of all, Her Royal Highness The Queen has announced her New Years Honours list. I’m all for rewarding people who contribute to society, Dolly the Sheep’s (cloning pioneer) Ian Wilmut I can understand, Jacqueline Wilson (children’s author) yep fair enough, but Kylie Minogue, for services to music?!?? Good god what’s going on? First of all, she’s not flipping British; secondly, it’s hardly music is it?

Also, added to this list is Richard Summersgill, the Director of Child Benefit and Tax Credit Offices (HM Revenue). This ladies and gentlemen is the same government office which is seemingly responsible for the loss of 25 million personal records in a nationally recorded sham! Never mind that, lets slap him on the honours’ list and let him reap the financial rewards that go along with recognition of the appointment.

Considering the usual claptrap of celebs that get awarded; this is bad, even by the usual poor standards of whoever makes the decision. I personally support a total rethink of this system to ensure it rewards those who genuinely inspire and enhance our society and not some total gobshite who has been seemingly rewarded for making a total balls-up of his job?

Secondly, my rant today is going to be about the assassination of Benazir Bhutto. I am sad to read about any loss of life; however I totally abhor mankind’s tendency of overinflating the memory of someone after they pop their clogs. When my father passed away I was determined to remember him as a man who had his faults (And like in me there were many), but was of unmeasured influence and inspiration to me. Anything else would have seen his memory become distorted and twisted and he might as well not have existed at all.

As for Benazir Bhutto my own recollections of this apparent martyr and savour of Pakistan centre around the fact that she was educated at Harvard and Oxford Universities, seemingly rose through what is, in my personal opinion of course, a totally archaic medieval based misogynist society where women are second place (even more so than in the UK, nuts and zoo magazine readers for example).

Further to this, I remember her being sacked and cited for corruption, and it has always been my belief (and seemingly of others) that she had totally capitalised on the abstract poverty of the Pakistani people during her time in power. How much of that is truth I honestly can’t say, however I am a firm believer in the saying that “there is no smoke without fire”. Unless of course you are in zero gravity.

Anyway, there are now conflicting reports of how she died and already there are clear signs that she is becoming the martyr amongst ‘her people’ that she intended on becoming, ignoring the advice of security appointed to her and succeeded in pointing a subtle figure at the head of the military government Musharraf.

I always have a great interest in news from the region, purely to understand the culture which I have made part of myself and regularly look at message groups and forums written by Indians and Pakistani’s. The one thing that I think they all generally agree with (which is a rarity in itself) is that Pakistan is entering into something of a ‘do or die’ waypoint.

Strength and stability must come from somewhere; I personally can’t see where because Bhutto herself was seen as an ‘alternative’ to those already in power and that speaks volumes for the sorry state regarding the options available to the Pakistani people (almost as dire as the choice in British politics I might add).

I very much hope that something steps in fairly soon, the last thing we want is for a spinoff culture to make a religion out of her distorted memory and for her to be considered a holy savour. Most atheists, including myself, are generally sceptical on how it is all too easy it is for people to start believing in old wives tales centered around corruption and hiding the many inadequacies of society rather than addressing them directly!

Anyway. Rant over. Wishing anyone who reads this a very Happy New Year in 2008!