Brexit. Rhymes with Fucked It.

Our decision, the vote to decide the future of Britain in Europe, is now less than a month away. Depending on which poll or which newspaper you read the out campaign are ahead as are the stay campaign and we are going to be booming economically regardless of what we do or completely bankrupted and all out of work too.

We have on the stay campaign, Adolph Hitler and on the leave campaign ISIS it would seem given some of the most ludicrous arguments being put forward by either side. It really is a case of schoolboys from Eton, who’ve both forgotten to bring teacher an apple, throwing mud at each other in order to get the gold star that neither of them have worked for or earned.

We have a leader in David Cameron with little charisma singing one tune and Boris Johnson who has charisma that oddly disappears quicker than an Alka-Seltzer in water, if scratched, or touched by a strong wind. A pair of wallies leading an unbelievable decision that will shape the future of this country for the next thirty or forty years when both of these clowns are long gone, retired, and dead. Mates from school with points to prove to make up for all of their differences whilst at school. A couple of point scoring idiots who want to be able to claim victory rights at the next Bullingdon Club Old Boys Reunion, the loser has to fuck a pig in the face, act like a bumbling buffoon, or some shit like that.

Let’s not forget that these pair of spoilt, rich, privileged, selfish, hoodlums has already written into history a get out of jail free card by making us all make the decision for them. When it goes great, or goes tits up, they will always blame the British public for voting for it and never mention the money, time and effort they spent in winning a bet they made decades before when they rowed in a dormitory, late at night, about who would be the bestest person ever to win a two man argument between two mates who would be given free passage into a public life that guaranteed them both (more) riches and power thanks to circumstances.

And despite this bleak description of a serious circumstance we have to make a choice.

And I choose, stay. Stay in Europe. I’m not scared of immigration because we already have control of it. I’m not scared of Turkey wanting to join, because we have a veto over their membership and I’m not scared of being told what to do by an unelected committee because we do have a say, the people who actually rubber stamp the rules into European law are elected by us and we have sovereignty as a nation to veto rules that are un-British or simply retarded. I also like being given top down rules by a group of nations that protect human rights and the environment. Things we will lose with the cross of a pencil if we are stupid enough to think that a Tory government, independent of consequence, would even consider keeping them. Individual rights do not sit with a Tory government. Have we learned nothing from the past? The fact that two Conservatives have the reigns of both arguments is a bitter pill personally for me to swallow. It does add more fog to an already cloudy debate.

The economics of the whole situation seems to play a big part in the debate but does anyone really think that Europe as a trading block isn’t working towards greater economic ties with China or Argentina, or Brazil or India? The idea that being out of Europe means we can trade with the rest of the world more easily is flawed. The EU does have an aggressive attitude towards trade, it may take time to write and ratify the deals but they are being made. Our absence from the club will affect our economy, that is without question. The EU is likely to become the major partner of all of those countries when it comes to trade. Outside of it you have to ask yourself one question. Will China deal with Britain and its 70m-ish people or will it first deal with the 300m-ish EU zone first? I know what I’d do, just out of blind capitalism and opportunity.

As far as defence goes, the EU has helped, but not solely maintained, peace in Europe. Peace in Europe has risen from two brutal world wars and a general lethargy of land locked or island locked nations for Empire building. Empires are no longer built from the stealing of land, as some recent appearances on the map will find out. But it’s a fact that Germany knows it doesn’t have to embody strength by invading Poland and France when it can sit back and reap the benefits of being mates with Poland and France. No one died from a trade deal or a diplomatic deal or a data sharing deal. Someone might get spam emails or maybe a new job, but no ones choking to death in a shower wondering where their belongings, hair and gold teeth ended up.

The decision we are making is easy and stark. A better EU deal or leave. We already have a good deal with the EU despite what the racists and nationalists would have you believe. I’d take a better deal all day long. Keep the membership, the influence and the economic benefits. It’s more advantageous for us than solitude and lots of men in Union Jack T-Shirts and tattoos shouting about unemployment being caused by those frogs legs and sausage munching Europeans withdrawing investment in all of the industries that we rely on that are already owned by them. Deals are deals, they are rubber stamped, don’t cry when a trade agreement becomes void because we voted to change the parameters. It doesn’t work like that. The number one bullshit argument in this whole debate has been immigration and we know that immigration brings more than it costs and the Schengen agreement is something we, as a European Union nation, opted out from as an Island nation, so we control immigration into and out of our island. There is no free movement of people into the UK at all.

The lies and bullshit about the European Union are more well known than the facts. I’m not saying it’s perfect, I’m not saying it benefits us all of the time, but the cost and effort of being a member is outweighed by what it brings to our table.

And as a the 5th biggest economy in the world, a UN security council permanent member, a NATO member and the fathers of democracy and the rule of law we should stay at the table we helped to create. If we leave now we are just a spoilt kid taking his football home because he was asked to go in goal for ten minutes of headers and volleys. No idea about the big picture, just wanting to satisfy our immediate urges without considering the consequences later on.

If we do leave, moaning only please from the ones voting to stay in.

Otherwise, we should shut the fuck up and remember the devastation we brought upon our children and grand children through our own clueless ness and selfishness and right wing nationalism.

The world as it exists right now is uncertain, it’s complicated and it’s downright dangerous. We cannot swap our place at the top table just so we can wave a flag and dream of the good old days. Good old days that we built back then on the help and support of many nations around the world that sacrificed a lot so that we can even be here at all.

No one seems to realise that. We are great because we have been great, together with many nations, for centuries. The world is moving towards more tolerance and togetherness and we are voting soon to decide whether we want that or whether we want to be isolationists, living in the past, and dinosaurs with rose tinted spectacles of how thing used to be. Tomorrow surely is more important than yesterday?

Together we are safer, stronger and more prosperous.

But you can’t say it. Somehow wanting the best for yourself and your friends, family and your country isn’t cool, right or acceptable.

What a time to be alive. Our voters can be more destructive than anything the evil doers and the enemy of freedom could ever wish to achieve. It’s up to you and me, I guess.

You won’t see it reported but this vote is big. It’ll ratify our destiny. I hope we don’t fuck it up with patriotism, flag waving and a Vera Lynn sound track.



Un Fin.

Like a serial killer returning to the scene of his crimes I’m back writing here after being adamant a month or so ago that I wouldn’t. (Well, apart from one drunken Wolves rant slip up in April…)

I’d like to say that I don’t know what happened but I actually do. My dog, Tim, had to be put to sleep on the 16th of March after being my homey and shadow since September 2004.

I understand that losing a pet dog may not mean anything to people who don’t have pets or can’t stand dogs and I know that people would think that a dog is not a person so I should shut up, but I’ve known more than my share of death when it comes to homo sapiens that I’ve known and loved and sometimes it can be the loss of a dog that brings everything to the surface.

The problem with his death was the loss of an innocent soul. He had no agenda, he wasn’t trying to get rich quick, he didn’t envy someone having a new house, car phone or TV. He had his immediate needs that consisted mostly of weeing and/or shitting, eating and a comfy space to flake out then deny the farts he emitted in industrial quantities whilst horizontal on his awakening.

I could moan and groan about my problems for hours and he never judged me or got bored and walked away, he just looked at me with eyes that said, ‘In a minute when he shuts up, I’m going to ask him for some of that shit he’s eating’

He knew the rules, played the game and always made me smile.

He was my partner for every blog post here, and with me every minute of the research and writing on everything else I’ve ever published.

As an old man he was a constant worry. I’ve shot out of work on more than one occasion to make sure he was OK. I guess I’m lucky to have pet loving colleagues.

He cost me an arm and a leg at the vets to treat his thyroid problem, his arthritis and his sticky eyes. I almost miss beans on toast for tea because Tim needed medication, crazy really.

And I could talk about him for hours, but it would be meaningless and without context to a stranger on a blog.

But if you have a dog, have lost a dog or just love dogs you already know what I want to say.

I’d have never thought that a little black terrier could have such a deep impact on my life. But I’m glad for the time we had together and I’m glad I did all I could for him and his ailments of ageing and illness and that he didn’t have to suffer during his life and went peacefully when the final decision had to be made.

If there is one thing I envy him it’s that. Had he been a human and I’d assisted his death I’d be serving life now. What a species we are. The law is more humane to animals than humans.

But that’s a rant for another time.

Tim, eating Maltezers and Pizza just aint the same without you.

Rest In Peace.

Tim just catches his breath after a long walk along the beach.

April Words About Wolves (aka nothing new to see here)

Another season is almost over and we have nothing much to show for it. Almost as far away from the play offs as we are from relegation, no investment is expected for next season, an expected player exodus, complete emphasis on youth an inexperience next season, a continuation with a manager who, has done the club well but seems to be getting more and more clueless, a chief executive with more sound bites that make little sense than most of the arguments being put together by the Brexit campaign, and an owner with less interest in the future of Wolves than an Albion fan after a good kicking by a group of Wolves fans.

Of course I am commenting these days as an outsider. Since Morgan decided to let his ever swelling mangina take control of his senses and his decision to put the club up for sale I have voted with my feet. It’s a little much for me to expect him to keep putting in his millions but if that’s his plan I refuse to put in my thirty quid a week. I’m sure pro-rata my small contribution from my relative poverty stricken position as a working class fan is the same as his several millions investments are in comparison to his almost billion pound wealth. So pro rata if he aint putting in the same percentage as me, he can shove it up his asshole.

As I get older I feel it’s a seen it all before situation with football. Having started supporting the club in the old fourth division with a shit hole, dilapidated home ground and pennies as transfer funds its hard to get too annoyed by our second tier, average plight. I just find it harder and harder to spend time, energy and waking thought caring about a club that is cared so little about by its owners and its board who think that they can say and do what they want, bullshitting the fans at the regular fans parliaments and think that we are going to eat it up and believe it. I suppose like many aspects of life, personality and bullshit is more important than actions and substance.

I always hope after a moan like this that I am wrong and everything is going to be alright. I’d love to see the team push for promotion, or even somehow get it, but it seems as far off as it was back in the Graham Turner days. But at least then we had an excuse that the club was in recovery from its darkest time and it was undergoing the rebuilding of a firm foundation under the greatest Wolves fan and owner we’ll ever know.

And it’s those foundations that are keeping us where we are today, barely, I feel.

I envy Villa at the moment. They will go down of course but the rumour mill says that the Chinese interest in them will buy them out, and spend some money and they will likely compete in the championship next season. Good luck to them. Who knows maybe they’ll manage to wangle themselves a great manager too, maybe even a champions league winner (now I am crazy ay?) and we can watch them shoot straight back up as we continue to be annoyed and disappointed at a situation at Molineux that we can do very little about. Whether you go every week or not your attendance means nothing to Morgan and Moxey. The club we love so much takes us all for granted, but they know they can. The hardcore 15,000 will always turn up and few more thousand will always drip through the gates from time to time too.

I suppose we’ll have to wait and see what next season brings. If by any stroke of luck we do get millions to spend, maybe some of the Afobe profits that we so easily and quickly gained, and Jackett or a successor spends it well it could be a season of top six challenging.

But I’ll put my money now on it being more of the same, with a few months of relegation fears thrown in just to keep our attention and anger bubbling away.



I’m starting to think that my days of tapping out words here might be drawing to a close. I find that I have nothing to say anymore and when I try to write I’m just forcing out second rate pap and as many a constant reader around here will know I only deal in Grade A, top notch pap. My recent experience of writing a book took my eye off the ball as far as current affairs, sport and the like, topics that I have enjoyed commentating on in a retarded and sometimes barely readable manner over the years on this blog, and so the urge to continue has all but gone. I also found my experience in publishing a very mixed bag indeed and I feel that it has effected my enjoyment of writing in general. Not that it was a bad experience, it was just unusual. I guess I’m just not used to seeing something through from start to finish and having it being well received and a modest success. I’m a failure, always have been, I don’t do praise very well. What I learned is there are aspects to publishing a book that I don’t really enjoy, I just enjoy the writing, everything else really is a chore and it’s a chore I can live without. If writing to any level of success or being published means being unable to escape the marketing, promoting and publicity then it’s frankly not for me. After eighteen years writing its come as a bit of a shock that I feel this way as it’s been the one thing in my life I have truly loved more than any other hobby or pastime.

A small but loyal number of readers have been very supportive and encouraging during my time here and they’ve commented and liked a lot of my stuff, and for that I am grateful and I feel I owe it to those guys to say that I might be ending this blog. It’s fair to say that without your encouragement over the years this blog would have died the death years ago.

Thanks again to each and every one of you, all the best with what ever the rest of life sends your way, be nice and look forward cus that’s the way time is heading. Rear view mirrors should be thrown out along with rose tinted spectacles. There are plenty of other blogs, good blogs, online you could be reading, that’s where I’ll be. Maybe we’ll cross paths again some time in the future.

If not, be good and stay safe.


The hashtag means we cared or some shit.


Another day of bloodshed conducted by an ideology that has an army, that is feeding itself many ways as well as it needs or can, has murdered another three dozen civilians in mainland Europe.

The media cares not for names or faces but cares about the numbers because somehow 30 dead feed their narrative of fear more than 10 dead or 2 dead or 1 dead giving no ounce of thought for the ripple effect each loss will have in the lives of hundreds of people surrounding each victim.

They talk about Paris and its so recent atrocity, without thought for the victims and their ripples that still burn people, they talk about the threat we face, the threat that is there and the threat that has been encouraged by our way of life and by our deeds and conduct in the past.

No solutions are offered, and so our enemy acts improperly.

Our leaders are not protecting us as they should.

We live in a post Bush and Blair era where intervening is wrong because they fucked it all up and its so fresh no one wants to tarnish themselves with the same dirt.

So we keep letting our civilians die, through inaction and impotence.

And social media goes crazy with support for the dead and with opposition to the murderers very sick narrative and its violence and it’s meaningless.

People change their avatars to flags, they hashtag their obvious, sensible reactions and they wait for attention that means nothing to the situation but means everything to them.

People feel better by stroking their egos as the enemy marches forward towards us.

Hashtagin’ your disappointment and anger and annoyance and horror at a terrorist atrocity means nothing, it just shows how much weight you put on your own attention, so some people liked it, the dead are still dead and the reality and narrative hasn’t changed.

They are still going to attack us, and they will, and we’ll keep sitting at home spreading hashtags and love and opposition to atrocity, whilst watching TV on demand and playing Candy Crush Saga.

We’ve already lost this war. People think social media empowers their opinion when it doesn’t and yet they are happy to settle for it and feel like they and their opinion matters, about such things, and the enemy will continue to murder us as we go about our daily lives kidding ourselves it won’t be us next, when it so easily could be.

Well done, fucko’s. Keep playing games on your iPhone and hope it doesn’t hurt too much when they get you. We had a window of opportunity to nip this in the bud and we fucked it. I’ll see you in the afterward and I’m taking your tinned goods and any useable items. But I’ll make it quick. You owe me that for giving a fuck during the good times. I’m not giving you a second chance afterwards. Not one. Well done freedom, you had it all and sold it. I hope it was worth it and we already know it wasn’t. Humanity, all the gear, no fucking idea.


Never will we see it. Never.

It’s February and Football is Staler than Mince Pie.

My love of professional football has waned in recent years; it rarely shines for me any more as the game that has entertained me for some three decades nearly. Why should we care about overpaid men, who behave like children at best and utter beasts at worse, who come together to kick a bag of wind around some grass as working class men and women shell out money to travel the country and support players that no longer wear their shirt with pride or understand what football means to your everyday punter?

Wolverhampton Wanderers have, and to some extent always will, have a place in my heart. Some of the greatest occasions in my life have happened sat in a stadium watching them play but all of a sudden I find it hard to care or pass any time of day considering them.

We are a mess at the moment, from top to bottom, and it shows no signs of changing in the foreseeable. Our chairman has put the club up for sale, a sale that I firmly believe he doesn’t really want and won’t get any time soon.

We have an out of ideas, proven League One manager who got lucky last season with the help of players like the long term injured Dicko and the gone but not forgotten Sako who has been forced to sell his best signing, Afobe, because of pressure from the board and the player who beat his chest and sung about getting the number nine shirt in August before promptly disappearing from view after selling himself so well to the rest of the world last season. I wondered why Arsene Wenger had let such a talent go so cheaply, now I guess we can assume why.

We sit on our hands when the transfer window is open, again and again and again. The current crop of players are occasionally half decent but often mediocre or simply don’t turn up at all. When VLP isn’t making schoolboy errors on the pitch he’s making them on instagram before eloquently apologising. A storm in a tea cup, but a storm nonetheless.

Fans are apoplectic with rage when we lose, week in, week out, despite many of them going week in, week out and seeing how utterly clueless we really are. Why so angry? Surely you’re used to it by now, stop going. I did the day Morgan put the club up for sale. He’s not getting another penny from me whilst allowing the club to sell players, replace them with nothing, and whilst supporting a manager who seems like a genuinely nice guy but is clearly under equipped to deal with the expectations of a club like Wolves and who struggles to find players with some experience that can plug a hole. Many of his signings are very young, inexperienced players and apart from Sam Ricketts who did a great job as captain in league one, we have failed to find anyone of an age who can bring an old head full of experience to tie together the youngsters. I mean what was Grant Holt going to do? With all respect to him as a journeyman the very idea that he was ever going to make an impression in the championship at this point in his average career is laughable. That signing alone shows the kind of ambition and ability to scout out a player we are dealing with.

I know last season we overachieved (if you can do such a thing), and if we had sneaked a play off place the chances of success were slim to none, but that is the minimum requirement at Wolverhampton Wanderers, contention for promotion and last season we had that. This season we are a much weaker side that is ineffectual, boring, sloppy and clueless. Where is the striker that can turn a half chance into a goal scoring opportunity? Where is the solid defender that you know will always be the one out of the back four to put in a shift regardless of the difficulty of the opposition? Where is the playmaker that can at least put three or four decent passes forward to our attackers each game? Where are the wingers who will run at, and beat, defenders?

We haven’t got them anymore it seems. Some of our players need to take a look in the mirror and ask where the player they promised to be in a few games has gone. We need to ask questions of our tactics, our training and our board and manager too.

But ultimately, us as fans can carry out a post mortem of each game and shout at each other about the rights and wrongs of any given decision, be it made by the referee or the manager in his selections. Ultimately the club isn’t being run properly for the benefit of the football we pay to watch. Something fundamental isn’t right.

Change is needed from the top down. Wolverhampton Wanderers are stale. Stale turns to rotten if nothing is done about it. We must remember that. I hope Wolves can get the 10 points from the last 13 games to hit the 50 point mark. But I personally feel that if things stay as they are, under the current board and manager, Wolves will be fighting relegation again next season.

I’m often wrong. I hope I am. I hope I miss many a great win as I continue to stay away and the club can return to a state that it deserves to be in.