Did anyone else read this drivel in the Grauniad this morning - what utter shite. Trotting out complete garbage that Stuart Pearce is at loggerheads with the City board over his acceptance of the England U21 job, albeit on a temporary basis. What SP really said, was that he had accepted the job on the proviso of there being agreement between  Manchester City and the FA. But hey, don't let the truth get in the way of a good story - and there hasn'e been another Manchester City disaster story for oooh at least a week. What annoyed me was that ancient history was dredged up to speculate that Denis Tueart was somehow the Machiavellian villian of the piece - quotes from Frank Clarke's autobiography for fuck's sake, and quotes from Joe Royle.

But the icing on the cake was big fatuous Dave "the fan's mouthpiece" Wallace, editor of City fanzine (sic) King of the Kippax on the radio. Five Live made a big thing of getting the views of Manchester City fans and then trot out this gobshite. Whenever the former "fan on the board" opens his gob, bullshit pours forth. He waffled on for a couple of minutes about the fans won't be happy blah blah blah, and then said something about it being an exit strategy for Pearce and justified this by saying that Pearce had never bought a home in the North West.Well, fuck me Dave, did you bother to check out the facts? Mrs Pearce is a successful businessperson in her own right and runs her own stud farm. Not exactly the sort of thing you can move lock, stock from one place to another.

My take? Well it's for a couple of friendlies and then the U21 Championships in the summer. The friendlies coincide with senior England squad matches and so there will most likely be no Premiership matches that weekend anyway. Some of the senior pros will be away with their own international squads so I'm quite confident that Steve Wigley is capable of looking after training whilst SP is away with the U21s. The summer tournament will also give SP a chance to do a bit of scouting and perhaps entice a couple of promising youngsters to Eastlands. If, after that SP decides that he would rather be U21 manager full time and let go of the reins at City, then that's up to him. But Pearce, being Pearce won't let an opportunity pass him by.

You can guarantee that the local telly is shite. Spending this week in Switzerland with only BBC Prime and News 24 as the only English language TV stations - my tendency has been to channel surf. LAnding mainly on Eurosport or a German Sports channel showing the European Handball Chamionships and an Italian station showing Italian footie.

As for the rest - utter shite. A plethora of German, French, Italian and one Spanish channel all showing pretty much the same sort of garbage we get in the UK. This week I came across the German versions of Changing Rooms - same ignorant morons who wouldn't kno one end of a paintbrush from another, feigning disbelief at the transformation of their shitty bedrooms that were in much need of a tidy up and a lick of paint; the German version of X-Factor/Pop Idol - same hapless fuckwits who think they are the next Beyonce Knowles/Justin Timberlake (why do they all try that breathy faux sultry singing style?) but sound like geese farting in the fog; Spanish version of new Big Brother series - studio shots of Spanish fuckwits jumping up and down hooting and hollering as if at some American TV Evangelism fest; and endless talking-heads, and Jerry Springer style "look at me, I may be a fuckwit but I'm opening up my heart on national television because my partner ran off with the one-eyd lesbian dwarf postal worker that lives next door" shows. And people voluntarily go to the TV studios to watch this drivel.

So why is then that all the TV stations across the globe mimic one another? Is it some sort of sinister global cabal attempting to brainwash the masses with a diet of shit telly that makes people so stupid that they are completely unable to cope with rational thought and thus vote out the ruling parties who ride roughshod over the democratic processes to implement draconian social engineering projects like mandatory biometric ID cards. If so, it would explain quite a lot about current human behaviour such as the bunch of sheep looting a ship's cargo earlier this week - grinning like imbeciles when asked why they were down there picking up packets of nappies and a box of left foot trainers not knowing thinking that as soon as they get home they can plonk the lot on ebay and make a fortune but completely ignorant of the laws of salvage - "because it's free innit. Yeah? If I don't take it someone else will. Yeah?".  About as articulate as a goon. How I despair.

Or, is it because TV programme makers the world over are a bunch of complete arsewipes with the mental capacity of a tulip.

I like to think it's the latter....but I'm not so sure.

Not quite MCIVTA (Man City fans will know what this means) but near enough. In the grand tradition of mobile phone users, I'm on the train. Between Olten and Burgdorf in Switzerlnad to be precise. Working here until Friday and then back to the UK.

Left Manchester Airport - Terminal 1 earlier this afternoon. Last week it was Terminal 2 where I had the misfortune to be on a fligt scheduled 10 mins behind a PIA flight bound for Karachi. Osama's latest band of boy scouts off for a jamboree no doubt. Today, however was slightly different. My flight was scheduled to leave 10 mins before the ChavAir flight bound for Tenerife. One particular family, and I use the word in the loosest possible terms, caught my eye. Him looking the stereotypical "never intend to work a day in my life cos the world owes me a living, so fuck off" layabout. Her, the fat slag shagged on the other end of said bloke's beer goggles, and snotty noded sprog in tow. What was so remarkable - or not. Was that the bloke and his slapper were wearing matching white shell suits. He looked like, well like a chav. She looked like a giant female Michelin Man.

And so the procession of lowest common denominator Big Brother watching Roy Chubby Brown fans came past. Some obviously veterans of the package holiday - how they afford it on the dole, I don't know. And others travelling by air for the very first time, stopping at regular intervals to ooh and aah at the ground crew chuck luggage about, drop the on-flight meals and spill aviation fuel across the wings and into the air intakes of the Pratt & Whitney turbines.

I don't much care for air travel - it is a necessary inconvenience for my line of work. Economy air travel has been stripped to the bare bones in search of ever decreasing prfit margins. The in-flight lunch has been replace by a "snack" - half a baguette with either cheese, turkey or ham. KLM are particlarly stingy - you only get cheese butties. If mainstream airlines are operating as economical as this I hate to think what the budget air bus services that are Easyjet and Ryan Air must be like. If my one and only Easyjet experience is anything to go by it's still drunken scousers with their own vodka and red bull.

I'm nearly at my destination - it's frigging cold out and it's snowing. I expect that I'll be waking up to the proverbial Swiss Alps postcard scene in the morning.

EDIT: 24/01/07: I was right. A fair covering of snow on the ground this morning but the whole country did not come to a grinding halt. Snowploughs up and down the streets - and this isn't a big town by any stretch of the imagination. Watched some bloke use a broken hockey stick to scrape the snow and ice of his windscreen - the NHL may have missed a merchandising trick there.

I haven't posted anything football related in a while, so whilst the national and international press are wanking their column inches over david beckham's move to the Yoo Ess, here's my take on it all.

<squeaky southern accent>"I'm doing it for the footbawl, honest"</squeaky southern accent>

Yeah right, that's why you're leaving La Liga for the MLS and not Serie A, Bundesliga, or returning to the Premiership. Finally, you have reached your level of incompetence so the next step is to become a whale in a duckpond.

I honestly can't think of a single footballer who has been more over-hyped, over-rated and over marketed than david beckham. A one-trick pony that can't dribble, can't tackle, can't pass and can't head the ball - that's not my opinion, ask George Best. Well, you can't now he's gone to the drying out clinic in the sky, but he did say that. I just added the one-trick pony bit.

Guaranteed that had beckum's career blossomed at Spurs or Newcastle, there's no way on (insert creator of choice here) own earth that he would have become the toast of the tabloids, England captain, Real Madrid player and now the highest paid footballer in the world in a no mark league. My mate Graham always reckoned that if Paul Scholes was a foot taller and not ginger he'd be worth twice what beckum's worth - and as much as it pains me to admit it, he's the only manchester united player I'd welcome at Manchester City. Even at 35 and having had problems with a detached retina, the lad's playing some of the best football of his career. Not so former colleague beckum who's star has been on the wane since his reportedly acrimonious split with slur alex.

As an England captain his leadership on the pitch when the chips were really down were sadly lacking. Not once in any of the major international competitions has he shone - absolute shite in Japan 2002, overshadowed by Wayne Rooney in Euro 2004, and missing in action vomming on the pitch in Germany 2006.

At least Fabio Capello can see what beckum really is - ordinary. Just an ordinary midfielder when compared to the likes of Lampard, Scholes and Gerrard.

Now him and his publicity hound are off to the good old US of A for what amounts to an obscene amount of dosh. A country where "sacker" is fifth in terms of interest (at least that what we're being led to believe) behind, Gridiron, Baseball, Basketball and Ice Hockey. Not forgetting of course that Nascar racing has a bigger following in the US than F1 has in Europe - hardly surprising since watching cars go round and round on an oval track sums up their level of overall intelligence. Then there's wrestling - I know it's not really a sport and it's all rehearsed and staged - not that the hillbillies know that or are able to spot it. So "sacker" is well down the list of sporting interests.

It may be a big sport amongst the kids over there - but the Yanks, like everything else they adapt, have fucked it up and turned it into a game dominated by women. More women play "sacker" over there than men - which when you think of the size of  Hispanic/Latin American communities and possibly Afro/Caribbean communities - is a sad indictment of the US footballing authorities promotion of the game.

Will beckum be a success? No doubt about it. Then again he'd have the same impact on their league as he would on League One if he'd come back and was playing for Chesterfield.

What are the odds though that we could see beckum at the next World Cup? Not in an England shirt but in an American one.

I had the misfortune to catch a couple mins of Celbrity Big Brother on Channel 4 last night. A house full of fuckwits I've never even heard of. Some woman was evicted and had to leave.For FUCK'S SAKE, if you remove these twats from society why bother letting them out again afterwards.

Off to the land of the dykes next week. No, not Lebananon. Holland. Eindhoven to be precise. Having worked onh shoestring budgets the last 18 months or so, it's nice to be put up in a decent hotel (4star) have all the travel arranged up front - not have one of the three stooges phone cos he hasn't bothered to look the address up on streetmap.co.uk or googlemaps and then expect the receptionist to do it and give him directions over the phone - fucking dickhead. Which reminds me, the comedy store still owe me £40 in expenses.

No, I arrive at Manchester Airport Tuesday lunchtime, have my car collected and parked. Get on flight to Amsterdam, travel 1st class by rail to Eindhoven - EUR51.40 return, so where do Virgin Rail get off charging over £200 for their poxy proletariat cattle trucks to transport people from Manchester to London? 3 nights at 4* hotel plus hire car whilst in Endhoven. Arrive back in Manchester at approx half nine on Friday night with car waiting right outside the concourse - how cool is that!?

First week is nearly over now and it hasn't really taxed the brain that much at all. Have written one report and done a bit of research and that's been it. Granted, the workload will increase next week but I'm glad of that because I hate having nothing to do. ooking forward to going back up north tomorrow and seeing Mrs GOS and the GOSlings even though I have appreciated the peace and quiet of being away, I have missed them.

I have also realised why rock stars used to trash hotel rooms and get up to all sorts like fill wardrobes with fish and shove goldfish up young girls fannies, throw TVs out of windows etc., fucking boredom and shit on telly. Even with the additional channels - there's bugger all worth watching so is it any wonder that when you are away from the comforts of home, stuck in a 5 x 10m room for weeks at a time you'd do anything to relive the boredom.

The thing about working dhan sarf is that everyone talks like they're on the set of Eastenders innit. Think I might take a stroll dahn the Queen Vic later and start a fight.

Arrived at the office at 09h55 in time to start at 10am as requested. I'd forgotten what it was like working for a real company.

On my arrival I was presented with new mobile phone, and laptop (what I'm now typing up this post on). Ran through the introductions and did the important stuff like arrange lunch and discover where the tea and coffee is kept. They've got one of those Flavia tea/coffee makers which is ok. There is every variant of coffee roast available but only two proper teas - the rest is that herbal fruity shit that looks like you should just leave it in the fridge until it sets. Then I spied a second rack with organic Earl Grey. How this compares with inorganic Earl Grey fuck alone knows because as far as my biology lessons went, all plants are living organsims and thus organic.

Still, later in the afternon had formal induction and tour of building during which shown the "Breakout Room". More like a small cafeteria with fully equipped kitchen.

Fantastic. I didn't realise that some companies actually value their employees and provide a working environment conducive to making employees happy. Compared to comedy store where I sat a an old school desk, had a PC that ran Windows 2000 connected to a single server network and a kitchen which was more like a ships galley equipped with a fridge that stank of stale milk, a furry kettle and a rancid microwave.

I now have a boss who is concerned with me getting home at a reasonable hour - "you'll eed t get away by half three on Friday to make sure you get home by seven". 

I am currently in a hotel in Shepperton - which is clean but the bathroom light doesn't work and the TV has the five main terrestrial channels plus Sky Sports so can't really complain. A wireless network that is a bit ropey so don't think I'll be able to play Texas Hold-em on MSN games later and may have some problems uploading this post. Plus having to re-learn to type on a laptop keyboard.

All in all it's been quite a good day for a change. Not only that, having scoped out the project tasks for between now and the first week of March, there's quite a bit of work to do and a fair bit of European travel. Off to Eindhoven next week and Zurich the week after, then it's back to the Netherlands, Paris and Munich all before the end of Feb.

I should have time while I'm away to write a few posts - most likely while I'm on a plane or train.

I may even have to change the title of this blog -  for a change, there's not a lot to be grumpy about.

Friday is my last day at the comedy store. Oh boo-fucking-hoo. I have never been so glad to leave a place of employment. No more reactive development, no more "can you do this, I'm seeing a client tomorrow and want to show him something", no more "but I've told the client it will be live next week" (well, what did you tell them that for when we haven't even released a beta version yet, you fucking moron), no more stupid, hare-brained marketing ideas.

I was offered and accepted a 6 month contract position with a well-known retailer (who shall remain nameless) at a very generous day-rate indeed. I never realised how lucrative contracting could be especially with umbrella company arrangements.

I suppose I should thank the three stooges for making working conditions so fucking unbearable that I had no choice but to look for something else - one of the stooges is all faux congratulations and "I'm so pleased for you" bollocks when I know that it really sticks in his craw that I have managed to land something ten times better in a very short space of time.

In the coming weeks I will be working away from home mostly down in the sarf where the beer is crap and on the continent where the beer is infinitely better and many more varieties are available. Never fear, though I shall have a little more time in the evenings to write up some posts and put them up on the blog as time and internet connections allow.