Charting the predictable: This week's events in a Moscow Theatre have followed all the usual lines of predictability. Firstly it was obvious that the Chechen occupation of the Theatre was going to end in none of the demands being met and the Russians attempting to kill all the terrorists. Secondly it was obvious that the Russians would negotiate the release of all of the foreign hostages. This would lead to the third obvious stage which involved the Russians putting together a badly thought out military effort to end it all. Fourthly, it was obvious that it would get ballsed up and loads of people would die. It was also obvious that the Russians would have no problem fucking over their own citizens once the nice lovely foreigners were out the way - wrongly believing that the outside world would ignore the resulting disaster. Old Soviet habits die hard.

It's all so depressing really.

Even worse they pumped the theatre full of gas probably banned by international treaty and as a result thought it best not to provide any medical assistance for the inevitable innocent casualties that would emerge from the building. The same reason is almost certainly why they still refuse to tell docters what the gas actually was. Plus one of the terrorists managed to escape, meaning that the Russians somehow failed to ring the scene with tight security even though they must have been preparing for days. Classic ineptitude. Hopefully this episode will embarass those in charge into sorting out their act. Although they learnt little from their handling of the Kursk disaster so I'm not holding out for much.

In a way, the terrorists probably got their way. It's doubtful they really expected the Russians to pull out of Chechnya, but probably wanted to draw attention to their cause. And in that they have suceeded. Russian operations in the region are again in the news and the bungled rescue means that instead of everybody crying out against the terrorists, the anger is being directed towards the Russians.

Not being one to tempt the possibility of bungling a gradual shift from seriousness to homour I will dive in with....


Try winning at this. Not as easy as you might think but nevertheless mediocre.

Then find this fairly good but not spectacular Alanis Morissette lyric generator


....Slow web day. As you can probably tell.

Mmm, surely there's something better than this?

Well. It's one hour after my plea for something better and I have discovered 2 cool things:

1: A ridiculously cool looking new keyboard

And 2: An embarrassing piccie of my mate Rob. Hehehe...

My last entry bought you the fantastical story of the Hotel Coathanger Bandit. I now therefore provide a linky to part 2 of the ongoing saga albeit a couple of days later.... Thanks to Alistair for pointing out the existence of installment two. If you have been reading his blog, you would have noticed he thanked me in a very similar manner for pointing out the original story. I like this. This means we have a 'I'll scratch your back, you scratch mine' thing going on. And since he gets vastly greater amounts of hits, it means his scratching provides me with (relatively) huge numbers of visitors, whilst my scratching amounts to little more than a tickle. Bwaa ha ha ha ha ha and so on.....

Meanwhile, the wonderous people at b3ta - source of so much of this blog's findings - have put together an internet simulator for those who want to practise their skills. Now remember, those nice folks at b3ta like their organisation to be pronounced like "Peter" - it is not "bee-three-tee-ay" godammit. As a reward for being aware of this fact, one of their number has produced this excellent collection of downloadable eighties video commercals. Even just looking at the screen captures drives me into a heady spiral of reminiscent excitment:

Little Tommy almost wished he didn't have a sphincter...

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I cannot wait for the Grand Theft Auto game The Getaway. Although it is not released until after Vice City, The Getaway, is going to be set in real life London. The programmers have mapped 40 square kilometers of central London and I for one will be committing a number of murders outside of my workplace.





Go here for more screen captures. And here is an interview with developers Team Soho including more screen shots. Marvelous.

Now you can drool...

Always good to hear of witnesses giving barristers the runaround in court, this excellent court extract shows such a case.

The thought occurs this aftrnoon, that I haven't sat down to write a decent entry here for a good while. Apologies for that. Hopefully continuing linkage makes up for it a bit. I hope there are no (prepare for shockingly poor joke...) missing links:


Now put that awful piece of shit homour out of your mind and checkout what your sleeping position says about you - although having read the site, I don't think it is entirely serious. I don't have a clue what my sleeping position is as I'm usually asleep - I guess I'll have to get someone to tell me. But then again, why do I give a fuck? The standard reply to being told that I snore is: "So? I don't care, I'm asleep."

Bah. That's it today. I'm off to get some food.

Final thought: John Lesley? Oh dear....

US Sniper Caught On Film:


First look at the new hotly awaited fighting stick death game - still a demo, but a bashingly good one...

Second there's Ninja Burger. "Guaranteed delivery in 30 minutes or less, or we commit Seppuku!". Ninja Burger will deliver anywhere for you... however they don't use doors.

Test your knowledge of My Little Pony and porn actresses, with this handy quiz. And don't forget to check out Black People Love Us ...the website!


Finally here is an actual picture found on the auction site ebay:

"Loading the President": compile your own Bush speech complete with big words and long squeeky fart. Most excellent. Sadly no swearing present. But make up for it with the equally excellent Simon Swears...

If all this makes you want to embrace the written word, think again. These sad fuckers have compiled a site dedicated to pen spinning complete with mpeg videos of the various styles. Oh deary me.

Millenium Dome Falcon....




Yesterday in a restaraunt I was told the way of the restaraunteur. And despite being in a fairly high-class establishment, it was all in evidence. A simple tale: some mineral water is requested and we are by default presented with the largest most expensive bottle of mineral water rather than the normal sized one our individual's request deserved. Many would silently accept and it is those timid souls who give the incentive to the money-grabbing retailer. Order a 'well-done' steak in any restaraunt and you can expect to be cooked the limpest, oldest, most degenerate piece of steak in the kitchen. A former employer of one well known eatery (which for legal reasons shall remain nameless - clue: what day is it today?), tells me the bottle switch is a tactic dictated to staff by management. This trend permeates down through the whole of the industry. Go to any disreputable takeaway for a burger and you are almost guaranteed to have it promoted to a cheeseburger before you pay the money. Annoyance. The adding of a 1p slice of an unbelievably processed piece of cheese is translated into a 30 or 40p increase in the price of the burger. Which makes one wonder if all the products in the burger are marked up by thirty times... Then your mind turns to the meat. If only someone could invent a single pill that contained all the daily vitamins you needed plus the necessary fibre and protein, we'd be all set. Well, I'd be all set. I'd be able to fill up my stomach with all the crap I usually eat - but this time it'd be worry free. In fact I reckon I could just eat raw white bread and drink plain water everyday and there'd be no problems.

Wednesday saw the 17th Worldwide Anti-McDonald's Day. I thought the protesters were on to to something when I read that campaigners in Adelaide had offered shit to MacDonald's customers, but sadly the items were just vegan biscuits in the form of shit. At last an incisive commentary on the state of Vegan biscuits.

Spin the surrealist wheel of fortune.

And ask the sporefish something special.

Today I bring to you the startling news that heart pacemakers are exploding when their owners are cremated. Of a survey of 241 British crematoriums; more than half reported pacemaker explosions, including blasts powerful enough to blow off oven doors and cause hundreds of thousands of pounds' worth of damage.

Next is a story that tells of shirts that turn losers into hot babe magnets. One can only hope we are on the verge of a new age.

Meanwhile, the revelation that even my girlfriend doesn't look at this site doesn't exactly bode well. As no-one would have noticed, I've put a hit counter at the bottom of the page. Some of my mates have reasoned that if I had something to say, I could just tell them to their face. Otherwise I should just direct them to here if they asked me a question. Bah.

The Simpsons showing a love for the film Pulp Fiction can be found here and here. Marvelous.

The Internet never fails to amaze. Nor does the state of Texas. Here can be found a site listing the last meal requests of convicts on Death Row.

And likewise, the net provides opportunities otherwise not to be found. On what other medium could you purchase a ghostbusters car and four suits with backpacks?



At time of writing bidding stands at $1,275... Oh dear.

Finally, visit Taliban Reunited for a really fucking good laugh.

Well, I said I wouldn't be able to update everyday. I do have a life you know? Although admittedly I spent most of Sunday playing pool and Playstation.

However I did find a site which is advertising a product for translating dog barking into human language. Sadly that language is Japanese, so you still won't understand it.

Meanwhile, US marshals are continuing the search for White Van Man in Washington State. It seems WVM has unfortunately found himself a high powered rifle and appears to be gunning down those pesky motorists who take too long to fill their cars and of course the kids who cross the road with no regard for his right of way as he turns left in fourth without indicating. The cheeky cunts.

Having said that, we're talking about America here. The land where the automatic automobile is king. Regardless, even American WVM would take any corner at a minimum of 20mph. Now the freedom to defend oneself with an AK-47 is one thing; crossing the road is another. Seeing as crossing aforesaidmentioned road is illegal in the the world's most free society and owning a high-powered sniper rifle is not, WVM would undoubtably claim to be acting in self-defence (Sorry. Self-defense).

Sadly for the world, the age of WVM is still to come. Whatever happens to our WVM over in the US, expect other WVM (I don't need to use 's there as WVM perfectly covers the phrase White Van Men, although I would have saved an effort had I done so seeing as now I've had to write this elongated explanation) to feature far more heavily in the news. In a Charging Through The Midfield exclusive I have discovered: WVM - the website!, readying to rock and roll, aimed to bring WVM (See? Good eh? No plural required) together... May God have mercy on our souls.

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Here can be found a reasonable animation which I judge to be mildy humorous.

Hoorah! Comments finally sorted thanks to those nice people at haloscan.

One day I'm gonna post all the links I know to websites obssessed with the domestic cat. I think the cat is the first everyday thing to achieve cult status on the Internet. Not many people probably realise this because the Internet's a new phenomenon and people don't know what to look for. But I'm convinced about this fact. How else does one explain a cat-herding game? Or cat boxing? Perhaps you prefer Japanese pussy, else you might like it mean. The list is endless: music for cats; cat animations; rate my kitten; why cats paint; real photos of winged cats; and if your cat's getting on your keybord try cat-proofing it; if that fails go here to buy a cat ejection pack. Well worth the money I would imagine. The brilliant Nohands is likely to become a cat cult of it's very own if it isn't one already. And don't forget wednesday's link to cat-scan....

Sadly, the Japanese shaved cats page seems to have been taken down.

There are precendents however. Classic Internet cults already identified include: the unstoppable cult that sprung from the mouth-opening online video 'all your base...' and the early brilliance of bert is evil. The newest cult is apparently weebl and bob. That link there gets you to the full archives. I don't see the attraction myself - bunch of arse if you ask me, but others seem to like it. My personal choice of what should achieve cult status is furniture porn. But that's just my warped sense of humour I guess.


Thanks to Alistair for voluntarily making my life easier by offering to host stuff for me and putting together a more efficient header. Apart from being a thoroughly decent chap he also compiles one hell of a website. I advise everyone to visit his truely excellent scaryduck house of lies and his award-winning blog.

Okay, just been putting on Commenting software. This not yet working properly, but at least it's in place and looking good. Not much good like that though. Bear with me. Before I set this site up on Tuesday evening the only thing I knew about HTML was how to post pictures on a forum and how to make typeface look red and large. Hardly advanced stuff, and I've been at work all day today as well. Have mercy please. Again thanks to Alistair for pointing me towards the right software. No thanks to anybody else. Yeah, thanks guys. I live with a computer bod, so I might have to get him to take a look. Hmm. Anyway, sod this shit, I'm going to bed. Serious lack of sleep over the last few nights - I was like a zombie at work today. Dodgy Indian soaps don't help. I've been working on an Asian TV station for over two years now and the only word I understand is the Hindi word for "in association with". Thank heavens they have good outdoor weather over there, else their nice culture would be seriously exposed to some very forced commercial television. This, I think, would be very bad. And if you're wondering whether I get to see some nice late night Indian babes... I don't think so. They'll happily show a man getting hung on a primetime news bullitin, but show a bit of shoulder and fire and brimstone will rain down from the sky. I don't understand it, but then again I'm not from that culture.

And our culture is hardly a nirvana of moral virtue.

Just one final thought: Howard Wilkinson as Sunderland manager? Aarrrgghh ha ha ha ha!!!!....

So here we are, well into October. And as the Sun takes a deepeningly shallow path across the lower half of the sky, we arrive at a time of year where indecisiveness rains down like leaves falling from a tree. Specifically I'm referring to that great subject of British conversations - the weather. In this country especially, the confusion becomes paramount.

When to unpack the overcoat.

I have to say it's worse in Spring. The temptation is to want the hot weather to come quickly and to go out wearing a lone t-shirt well before summer ripens. We get cold, but we still refuse to wear the coat next time as to do so would be to admit that summer is still to come.

Okay okay, so this is a particularly petty subject matter. However it is indicative of the time of year. Just look at the state of the Conservative Party. At a time when there should be no external pressures on them, the party is collapsing in on itself like a tin can in a high school physics experiment. Last week I spoke to somebody who was keeping a bottle of champagne in their fridge specifically to open upon the announcement of Thatcher's death. And it seems there are many more who will celebrate when the old witch finally meets her (rather pshychotic) maker - including me. In fact I wouldn't be surprised to see the pubs overflowing with frothy bitter (traditional industrialists drink) on that night accompanied by great merriment and cheer. I'm also hoping to spot the odd wealthy socialist man of leisure touring drinking holes buying large rounds of champagne for all. And truly, at least within those particular licensed establishments, we will have little foetal societies; "Let us create a society!" I for one will scream loudly.

With the Tories fading into the background, it seems clear now that we, as a population, are seeing things more starkly then we did in the late seventies and eighties. I guess that period was the autumn of the twentieth century. In our figurative spring we had two World Wars and more confusion.

Is what I speak a large flagon of toss? Well, yes frankly. But I've got to write something, otherwise this becomes a rather pointless blog. Although the thought occurs that what I'm writing renders this blog pretty futile anyway. However I urge you to stick with the course.

Hmm, I'm gonna think of something better to write and continue today's entry later...


I've just been looking for images to put at the top of this page. I don't only want football related pictures, so I thought maybe a man running through a battlefield would be a good'un. Amazingly, a search brings up countless images of cats. Which made me think of the brilliant site cat-scan.com. I've temporarily put up the one half-decent image I've found. If anyone can find anything more approriate, do email me.

I've been told that my previous entry doesn't actually mean anything at all. Well, perhaps. But as I said to the person concerned (and this also goes for the images), perfection can only be achieved via incremental steps. Although I've got to be careful about spending too much time with my computer having read about a 24 year-old South Korean gentleman who died after spending 86 consecutive hours playing a computer game. I know a few people who should take a look at that link before taking an even more careful look inwards. Right, I'm gonna shift off now. I have a rather colossal curry to cook and consume. And if they don't yet like my ramblings, perhaps that alliteration there will win a few over....

I started this blog after hearing people telling me their stories of one particular night. What I've heard is always filled with passion emotion and reminiscent glory. This blog is going to list various stories from the night of May 26th 1989, the night Arsenal went to Anfield and snatched the league title in the most dramatic possible way. I want stories from people wherever they were, even if they weren't into footy at the time. And this site shouldn't be just for Gooners.

....Then about ten minutes later I decided that it wasn't a very good idea for a blog, or indeed a blog at all. So then I decided to make a link to another page that could host that.

I'm quickly beginning to think that this is going to end up as a blog detailing my efforts to get a blog off the ground. Bah.

Right. Fuck it. This is gonna just be a general blog of sorts. But I'm sticking with the name Charging Through The Midfield for now. I know I won't be able to update this everyday, but I will look after this as if it were my own child. Which probably isn't very well, however I've just spent the last 2 hours fiddling with bloody HTML so I aint gonna give up now dagnammit.