Thursday, December 17, 2009
It is will no sarcasm, nor is my tongue in my head when I say that I am dreading having to fly with this yellow pack, bargain bin excuse for an air-line. My apprehension about the monumental shafting I am likely to receive has put me off my food.
Time will tell.
For more details, see here: http://sadpastie.blogspot.com/2009/04/dear-mr-ryan-you-know-i-hear-lot-of.html
Friday, October 16, 2009
Friday, October 02, 2009
I feel the urge to write this time in relation to the new season of X Factor. Now, as I’m sure you well know – no one actually admits to/nor really enjoys watching X-Factor. We are a nation of people who automatically loathe anyone with a vague semblance or talent or success. What we do like, however is laughing at, mocking and jeering those less fortunate. The simple pleasure of passing judgement on societies reprobates; the misguided, fame hungry and often genetically inferior fuck-ups. That Mr Cowell was the appeal of X-factor.
Why therefore have you essentially removed this element for us? The ‘audition process’ used to be a breeding ground for the the hopeless. All wonderfully magnified and intensified by the claustrophobia of the small audition room, or chamber. Now the 'process' (whats left of it) is sympathetic, sensitive and at some junctures almost supportive?! If I wanted to watch something emotionally moving I would watch ‘It’s a wonderful life’ – but it’s not a wonderful fucking life Si. Life for these people is pain, it’s a struggle. Life is art and art is emotion. Emotions which are made of aspirations and dreams. Dreams which I used to enjoy seeing you crush like little socially deprived grape. The introduction of a live audience has given the programme a soul and a machine like you cannot have a soul. A live audience at the auditions Mr Cowell, wa a mistake.
For example, I’ll have been watching X-Factor as one of God’s mistakes (who has already poured her heart out to your moronic audience about her sick dog) is awkwardly butchering her way through a Mariah Carey ‘classic’ or something. I’m at home devising a plan to run for prime minister simply so I can legally promote and enforce mandatory sterilization for the subject. She finally rasps her last note and I’m waiting for it Simon, I’m waiting for you to rip her to pieces with one of your trade mark put-downs like: "If you had lived 2,000 years ago and sung like that, I think they would have stoned you.", ‘You sounded like Cher after she's been to the dentist’ or ‘Look at me again and I’ll stab you’. But instead the audience began to applaud ‘her courage’ and you Simon 'Shylock' Cowell, you sympathise with her! More Pontius Polite and Pontius Pilate I’d say...
So now we’re already finished boot camp and now there’s nothing to look forward to but Phil Collins covers and general musical competence. I’ve given you a lot to think about I know, but without allowing the deluded to be properly debased the dream, at least for me, is over.
Tiernan (Winner 2010) Welch
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
I recieved the following letter - I should go, shouldn't I?
Saturday, September 05, 2009
I can confirm you number has been removed from our service, and that you will receive no further promotional messages.
Please call us on 0870 100 1024 if you would like to discuss the service further
Bling Customer Care
From: tiernan welch [mailto:email@example.com]
Sent: 03 September 2009 22:25
Tonight at 20:44 I received a message on my phone (tel: 07751243077) from yourselves stated that 'I have paid '4' but not yet claimed my adult video at barley legal'!'...
I am frustrated, confused and annoyed at this message; not only because of the woeful grammar it presented, but mainly at the suggestion is that I am a subscriber to a seedy mobile internet porn site which boasts 'barely legal' subjects. I have never agreed to such a thing and insist that you immediately remove me from your distribution list (which must read like the sex register) .
Perhaps I am being mislead, and this text is merely a rouse to trick me into following a link which I will then subsequently be charged for - this in itself is abhorrent and frankly, deceitful. Now admittedly, being a big sexually verile man, I may have I inadvertently stumbled upon something of this nature on my phone. But I have would never agreed to pay for such a thing given that pornography is so freely available on the Internet, and I have a girlfriend who puts out.
I will be inspecting my bill and should I be charged, seeking legal advice and taking matter further.
Take me off this distribution list. Now.
I am totally fucking serious.
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
- not funny
Dear Kevin Bishop,
This was never going to be an easy letter to write, like telling a little disabled boy that he can never be an athlete, or a sex offender they can never teach pre-school. But it's with pity, but admittedly some relief that I write to you to inform you that you, Kevin Bishop, are not funny. But, I imagine you get people telling you this on a regular basis, so instead of simply calling you a 'useless cunt' or 'talentless fuck-wit'; I felt it would be best to break it down for you.
Your first problem is that you cannot write jokes. Rule one, just because you think something is funny does not make it automatically make is to. No, writing comedy is about good original script and timing - both things abundantly lacking in your 'work'.
Secondly, your 'impersonations': I feel compelled to tell you that these are, at best, dreadful. Principally these are flawed because you don't look or sound like the subject of your efforts and seemingly the only way you can portray who the identity to the viewer is to use a catch phrase, or quote from a film in which they appeared. Poor.
So, we have established that you cannot write jokes or do impressions. Why then Kevin, are these the crux of your show? As a format 'impression/comedy' is inherently weak, with obvious exception being 'spitting Image'. Difference of course being, Spitting image was funny, current and well researched, whereas you are shit. Oh sorry, I said I wouldn't resort to that.
But I know what you're thinking; 'I must be funny, I have my own TV show'. Yes you do have your own show, but sadly it is not funny. Seriously, ask anyone. In fact, its probably the polar opposite of funny; it's actually quite sad. And not even sad in a 'past-it-radio-DJ-hyping-the-latest-zeitgeist-band-sad' way, but in a homeless talking dog sort of way. Depressing.
In conclusion, yes I probably could do better.
Well, I am very pleased and hugely grateul to anyone who got involved and have great pleasure in printing the reply I recently recieved from the local office.
Proposal: CHANGE OF USE OF GROUND FLOOR FROM RETAIL (CLASS A1) TO HOT FOOD TAKEAWAY (CLASS A5); NEW SHOPFRONT, ROLLER SHUTTER; VENTILATION FLUE
Thank you for writing to me about this planning application. Your letter was received on
You can inspect a copy of the decision notice at the Council's Customer Service Centre on the ground floor of B Block, New Walk Centre. A copy of the notice can be obtained there, or by telephoning (0116) 252 7249. A small charge will be made for a copy.
Again, thanks to anyone who contributed to 'the cause'.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Dear Brighter Pictures/Endemol Productions,
I have been watching big brother for a decade. In this time I have become very familiar with the format, the fame and fallouts, the characters and the various presenters; however there is one aspect of the show that I am particularly attracted to - and that is the voice of 'Big Brother'. I have spent much time carefully considering my approach but fetl that the best and most effective method would be to simply ask, so without any further ado I propose that I should be given the opportunity to be a Big Brother voice on the next series. Hell, I'd even do your 'Celebrity Big Brother' as a kind of 'warm up' act.
I appreciate that one would need more credentials to become a Big Brother voice than just being a fan, I understand that it is hard work, that it is emotionally, as well as physically tiring. I appreciate that, as part of the role I would frequently be expected to disregard my ethics, morals and better judgement and act coldly and callously - this my friend, this should present no problem whatsoever.
Conversely, having seen the programme I am aware that the role of Big Brother requires compassion and mediation. That I would be dealing with unstable people, frequently with sensitive issues within a highly unusual, forced and claustrophobic environment. To this, I would like to assure you that I have years of experience working with vulnerable young people and their families dealing with complex personal and emotional issues. And, additionally I am undertaking a Masters and will shortly be a qualified Counsellor.
Furthermore, though you are unable to appreciate it in this written offering; I have a very pleasant speaking voice, which I know is of paramount importance. It's a subtle blend of elocuted Northern Irish with non-regional and familiar Anglicized overtones brought on by living in England for the past 9 years - think Irish Ewan McGregor, but better. But I'm no hack! God no, as I also have experience with acting, TV and voice-over work.
I was told recently that the voices of big Brother were likely to be those of the shows producers, and though I do not a financial stake in the show, I believe that ten years of viewing is investment enough.
Should you wish to ring to discuss the matter further I would be delighted to hear from you,
077_ ____ ___
Monday, August 10, 2009
I have to ask; are you showing those 'I bet you can't.../Big Brother' adverts with the sole intention of putting people off both big brother and Lucozade? I hate to be so blunt, but having previously been I fan of both I have the right to air my concerns.
First off, I hate them. That said, I get your angle. That by using immediately infuriating, yet equally self-obsessed and diabolically loathsome actors to advertise your product you are mirroring the latest 'herd' of fame-hungry-media-whores featured in Big Brother. Not Orwell's harrowing tale of a totalitarian state and a man's futile rebellion, but rather 'Big Brother' the popular programme on which you are advertising
That I get, but what I don't get is the premise. I mean, what's actually happening? I understand that, as above the claustrophobia and sexual tension displayed in the advert is representative of the Big Brother experience. And perhaps there is an undiagnosed Napoleonic complex, or maybe its just a simple case of sibling rivalry?
If the latter, May I suggest that instead of inanely suggesting 'extreme' challenges (which are seemingly effortlessly completed within an advert break) that both parties 'bury the hatchet' as it were and agree to some focused intervention. I would be happy to mediate this and intend to focus on cognitive goals, rather that physical ones, while facilitating a communicative dialogue associated with jealousy, envy, and rivalry among adult siblings. A much more satisfactory outcome, I'm sure you'll agree.
Other than this, the only suitable alternative I able to suggest that would make me feel better would be for little brother to 'dare' big brother to brutally assault him? Or to bury him alive. Your call.
I feel I have offered 3 highly suitable suggestions to, what I believe to be a global problem.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Dear My Parfitt,
I am writing today as I believe that I and the people of Great Britain have suffered enough. Now, despite my better judgement I still listen to radio one and I have done so for well over a decade. I have seen broadcasters come and go and I have participated in competitions and phone-ins, as well as attended your ambitious attempts to intrude on the festival circuit.
However, there is one serious thorn in my side, fly in my ointment, piss on my proverbial chips. I am talking Andy, may I call you Andy, about Edith Bowman. Now, it would be easy for me to list the reasons why I dislike Edith Bowman’s show so intensely, so I’m going to.
Edith Bowman is simply a dreadful broadcaster; she is frequently unprepared for her broadcasts and appears to rely far too heavily on guests and callers in to fill her gaps. In fact, do the listening public really need one show per week dedicated cinema? Especially when the only real critique she is able to provide is superlatives like ‘genius’ or ‘amazing’? Besides, who actually cares what Edith Bowman has to say about anything, at all, whatsoever, in the world?
Edith’s involvement with the ‘show’ is so limited that, in the 2 years since Colin Murray left, the format is virtually unchanged. I imagine that, what with her ‘wacky cultural references’ and the way she gushes over the latest ‘scenester’ flash in the pan indie band or film that her show is geared towards the ‘Student/Twitter/Twenties’ audience? Well, she creates such aversion amongst this ‘target audience’ that there are social networking sites dedicated to their distain as well as one entitled ‘what do you do between 1 and 4 pm each afternoon’ – because, lets face it, you can’t listen to the radio.
Andy, without wanting to put to fine a point on it; who is sleeping with her? If she’s got someone over a barrel then you, as director needs to step up and teach that bitch whose boss. Someone has to. For the love of God, someone has to. Edith’s unprofessionalism, inertia and downright laziness is not good enough for someone who is essentially being paid by the British public and I suggest you replace her immediately.
Below I have listed some possible new stand-ins:
Xzibit (or Fred Durst)
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Dear Mrs Welch,
Thank you for your recent email with regards to Birds Eye Reggae Reggae Chicken Chargrills.
The advert is meant to highlight, in a humorous, light-hearted manner, the taste benefits of Birds Eye Chicken Chargrills vs a plain piece of chicken through our use of new exciting flavours such as Reggae Reggae sauce from Jamaican recipes. We did not intend the ad to be construed with any negative connotations and apologise if you have been offended.
Thank you in taking the time to contact us.
Birds Eye Consumer Advisor
Saturday, July 11, 2009
I feel I must write to you to express my feelings towards your new advertising campaign for your 'Reggae Reggae Chicken grill's.
Though I understand that you are trying to portray that your new chicken chargrills embody the vitality and of the West Indies I believe that you have inadvertently started a race war. First off, the chargills themselves represent little more than a tired stereotype, as unforgivable as Jar Jar Binks. But my main indignation is with how the non-reggae reggae chicken piece both conducts itself and how it is mocked by its poultry based peers. For instance, when this forsaken chicken piece depicted as pasty, white and arid attempts to join in with his this muscular and bronzed counterparts it is condemned and patronisingly told 'Forget it man' for merely trying to participate.
Perhaps you were juxtaposing the coating of reggae reggae sauce in one chargill with another metaphorically smothered in apathy, but I am under little illusion that the outcasted piece of chicken is meant to represent the British Middle classes and for this reason I wish to air my concerns. Rasism, Captain Birdseye works both ways. I'm sure you, as a man of Her Majesty's Royal Navy and will understand my concern at this level of cultural insensitivity.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Whilst I read with interest your recent obituary of Augusto Boal, I am keen to add my own perspective. In my (as yet unpublished) third year dissertation paper I made, what I feel to be extremely relevant and prescient points regarding the great man's work. It may be appropriate for the Guardian to serialise the aforementioned opus (2:2) which will undoubtedly shed new and invigorating light on Boal's legacy.
May I, as an opening salvo quote myself: ''Augusto Boal; while he didn't necessarily do any good, he certainly didn't do any harm.''
I look forward to your anticipatory reply.
Yours in mutual grief,
Tiernan Welch BA Hons
Friday, June 12, 2009
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
I am a local resident and am writing to you with grave concern. As you may well be aware there appears to work being completed on the old shop on the corner of Wilberforce road and Upperton Road. Being proactive and handsome I was curious as to the nature of the development and decided to speak with the men who were on site; this was of no use whatsoever as they seemed dangerously ignorant. Now, this got me suspicious; being a keen and active member of the community I tend to notice when planning applications are posted in our area but I did not recall seeing one for this shop – and indeed the property next to it which too has become part of the development.
Given my unease I decided to contact the planning office myself to see what was going on – to my surprise they were able to tell me that an application had been made to turn a residential unit into a commercial dining one, namely a fast food takeaway. They went on to say that in April the application was returned to the developers stating that certain information was lacking. This means, as I assume you are aware, that the developers are building this fast food ‘restaurant’ without the authority of the council to do so; and planning office are essentially unaware that this work is going on.
What should have happened is that they receive authority from our local council, then the council would notify residents (normally by a documents on electricity poles) asking if we had any objections – I’m sure you remember from when work was being completed on the viaduct or from the proposal for residents parking. Well, this has not been done. And currently the developers are acting on the assumption that their application will be successful and that we, the residents, will not mind…
…well I for one mind. Do we really need another takeaway? That aside, do we really want all that comes with it; I’m talking about litter, anti-social behaviour, noise, smell? The takeaways on Narborough road attract all manner of violence and late night activity – however Wilberforce Road is a residential road and I believe this should remain.
Additionally, all the properties are, give or take; Victorian and turn of the century homes. The theme of the road has been largely undisturbed by new development and there is certainly a ‘nice’ theme to it. The developers of this ‘restaurant’ have already removed the original windows and shop front and replaced a lime green shop front, they have also applied for permission to erect ‘2 illuminated fascia box signs’ (neon signs, this has already once been refused) thus distorting the integrity and cheapening the area under the whorish glow of neon. Considering the amount of money invested on the Upperton road redevelopment, is this really how we want the gateway to our neighbourhood to look?
I’m sure not all of you will agree with me; but these developers do not have the authority to: change the usage of the property or our consent to build a takeaway. A takeaway will lead to pollution, noise, litter and anti-social behaviour and for these reasons I am opposing it. I urge you all to take some action; I will be forwarding this letter to the planning office and to our MP Patricia Hewitt.
Friday, May 08, 2009
Today, with no notice whatsoever I had a £150 credit made to my bank account - ref: Ryanair.
You CAN fight City hall.
Well, I can.
I'm off to Edinburgh now.
Friday, April 24, 2009
You know I hear a lot of people bad mouthing Ryan air; people saying 'Ryan air are bastards', 'Ryan air make you pay for oxygen' or 'Ryan air stole my baby'. I understand that as your prices are low you need to cut corners, you need to hide charges and over-charge for basic amenities - I understand this, I really do. I, personally I had never had any gripe with yourselves, until now.
What I do have an issue with however, is that you could actually Rape someone. That Ryaniar, is a step to far. Permit me to remind you…
Whilst planning travel back to Ireland with my girlfriend recently I threw caution to the wind, disregard my numerous previous and generally positive experiences flying with BMI baby and decided to try my native country's own bastard son of an air line - Ryan air. I ordered my tickets, careful to ensure that I did not want to book a seat in advance, have travel insurance, require a car on arrival, require food, and check in luggage. Then, as if like clockwork 4 days later received notification of my booking via e-mail.
Some weeks later I packed my things and made my way to the airport. I arrived with my girlfriend in toe, with plenty of time to spare and danced my merry way to the check out desk. I was on my way home to the Irish motherland, I was going to spend the next week being fed and watered by my loving parents; there was nothing that could break my mood. Nothing.
I made my way quickly to the front of the line, handed over our passports to the lady on the desk and made polite chit chat and was my usual charming self. Earlier in the day I had had the forethought to check in on-line, thus having myself time and £12 - shrewd. Then I put my bag on the scales and; RESULT! Under 15kg! Take that weight restriction Nazis. Then to my shock my girlfriend's bag is under too, could this the best day of my life?
But halt. The check-in girl, that expression on her face, something's up. I can feel it in my bones. She looks at me and says the words that haunt the bones of any traveller or regular commuter; 'there seems to be a problem'. My heart sank and I asked the girl what was wrong, she replied 'can you go over the to the customer service desk?’ So, confused and deflated and with my tail between my legs I dragged my feet along the walk of shame to join the crew of fellow disgruntled Ryan air rejects. I took my place overhearing an older couple who were being told that a full driving license was not sufficient ID to travel domestically - despite the fact it was for a funeral later on that day. Soon, still unaware of that the exact problem with me was, it was my turn.
I advised the customer service assistant that I had been advised to come over and explained that I was not sure why but also definitely not a terrorist. She took my passport and looked us up on her computer. She looked up and said 'your name is spelt wrong', a tidal wave of relief washed over me! Just my name, thank God! I mean, my name is 'Tiernan' I expect people to get it wrong. I’m annoyed when people don’t. She rolled her eyes 'not you, her' she said gesturing to my patient girlfriend. 'Her' I thought, my girl friend ‘Lauren’. How could anyone spell that? She continued 'yeah, her name is LAUREN SHARP on the passport but it's different on the ticket'. 'No problem' I said, what is it? 'LA SH' she replied. 'LA SH' I said, 'surely it's just been abbreviated to that?’ 'No' she replied, 'the name has to be the same on the ticket as it is on the passport'.
Suffice to say this conversation went on like this for a bit. In order to address the issue and keep all parties happy I requested that the name was changed and a new ticket be produced. I was not surprised to hear their was a charge of this, but I didn't care. After all I'd already saved a fortune, what with my skilful on-line checking in and using my scales at home. So yeah, bring on your 'spell check' charge I thought.
'The cost for the change of a name is £150' she mumbled. 'Fifteen pounds' said, 'that's a lot considering all you are going it typing a new name!'. 'No sir, One hundred and fifty pounds' she repeated, her confidence growing with every syllable. I laughed, honestly I laughed in her stupid face. 'One hundred and fifty pounds' I gasped, 'for what?!' 'For changing the name sir'. I composed myself and attempted to hide where I had soiled myself. 'Excuse me', I asked 'How can you possibly consider charging one hundred and fifty pounds for a simply pressing 11 keys on a keyboard? I don't mind paying ‘a’ fee for this, but the labour involved hardly qualifies for a £150 charge. Additionally, my girlfriend has 25 years experience writing her name and I am confident that this 'mistake' is probably not her problem.’
The woman was clearly bored with me and more or less immedialty told me that she would get her manager, for this I thanked her and arrogantly placed my bag on the counter to confirm m place in queue and intention of not backing down. Moments later I became very aware of a woman’s voice shouting in the background, I looked around and was confronted with the vision of a middle aged woman advancing towards me already bellowing about something or other. Soon she became audible and I heard her screaming 'you have to pay the charge if you want to fly, if you don’t you can’t!!’
Honestly, this woman was like some kind of demented end of level boss. She was taking no prisoners and clearly wanted the entire foyer to know my personal business. By the time she reached me she was already out of breath, given me ample time to retaliate in kind. I told her I was appalled at this charge and was now entirely unsurprised by the awful reputation that Ryan air carried. At this point she advised me, ‘advised me’ that if I didn’t like it to try a different airline. I asked her for her name which she give up reluctantly, I then took great pleasure emphasising the ‘Miss’ part for the rest of the conversation. Our skirmish continued for some time, with Miss Hipkirk refusing to budge or even acknowledge that 150 pounds to change the spelling of a name might be a bit excessive.
Reluctantly, I paid the fee. I had to. And this is the thing that gets me; I went back over to re-check-in, and do you know what? The name hadn’t even been changed. After all that, the £150 administration task had not been completed.
You may be wondering why I am writing this letter Tony; well first off I want you to know what it’s like to have half an hour of your day wasted. I also want Miss Hipkirk to be tarred and feathered. And finally there’s the money; now I don’t want nor do I expect to receive a full refund. What I would like is for you to tell me how my £150 pounds was spent. I would like a breakdown of the service I relieved and, if it seems fair to charge £150 then we have no quarrel.
Or perhaps we negotiate? I believe that the task in hand equates to 1 minutes work, therefore I am happy to pay for 1 minutes pay for the steward who dealt with my query, I work this out to be just over 1 pence, I will forward my address and look forward for my cheque for £148.98 (I’m being generous).
Yours genuinely sincerely,
Sgt. Tiernan Welch
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Day 1: Maryland Fried Chicken.
To whom it may concern,
Apologies if I have not located the correct department for my query, however given that my issue does include air pollution and quality I felt it appropriate. I am writing with some concern regarding the Narborough Road branch of Fast Food ‘restaurant’ Maryland Chicken. I live nearby the establishment and have for some time had an concerns.
My first issue relates to the amount of waste and litter that the shop produces. The area surrounding the shop, which is largely residential, is more or less perpetually camouflaged with a checking of rotten chicken carcass and Maryland brand boxes and containers. Admittedly, the proper disposal of waste and litter is a social responsibility; however I do believe that the proprietors of Maryland Chicken are to a degree accountable for using such excessive packaging. Perhaps they could be advised to use less, or a more biodegradable packing alternative?
My other, and more immediate concern, is more of a thorny issue. Given that this branch of Maryland Chicken has been given license to virtually never close, I now have to live in a world that smells eternally of a rancid cocktail of mutated poultry and rancid fat. A dense fug rich with the bitter aftertaste of depravity, disappointment and failure hangs in the air following me around like a malevolent hooded man.
I am under no delusion of how fried chicken is made; I work in the city centre which is a relative hot-spot for fried chicken takeaways and ‘restaurants’, yet none of this have such offensive or challenging aromas. I am very concerned about the pungent stench that this particular restaurant exudes; and this is why I write. I believe that whatever ventilation system the restaurant has is either not working correctly, or is insufficient.
I would be grateful if someone could check that the ventilation in the restaurant is sufficient for their needs, as the current heat we’re experiencing is resulting in further exacerbating the already dire situation and may well result in my gagging or voluntary asphyxiation when nearby…which is daily.
Tiernan Welch MBE