Villan’s Time of the Month

Yes, it’s that time of the month where I like to grab my hot water bottle and Cookie Monster pyjamas and sit around on my fat arse eating chocolate, drinking tea and….hang on, this is pretty much an average day for me isn’t it?

But, yes I have torn myself away from my XBOX for more than five minutes to reveal August’s Song of the Month.

This month we have the UK’s very own Alexa De Strange, a band that are not only unique and tuneful, but also a band that have a great image that makes burlesque not only sexier than sexy, but also gives it a dark twist that creates something worth seeing and hearing by all.

Alexa De Strange, unique and well worth a listen

Musically they’re a lot of things, hard to put a finger on and shoehorn into one specific genre, so judge for yourselves the song and video, Babydoll from Alexa De Strange.


For more info you can check Alexa De Strange, or to give them their full name Alexa De Strange and the Sisters of Seduction at the Paranoise Records site here or on their Facebook here.

Babydoll will be played on my shows throughout August, and if you do take time to visit, tell them who sent you, I like the attention 😀

In an addition to this Babydoll has stormed the SI Radio Charts, number 1 this week and many daily number 1’s from listener votes. Check this song out on and bask in it’s awesomeness!


Something New Shiny and Musical

Now, I know you’re probably shocked and maybe even appalled at the fact I’ve not ranted and raved about red headed monster and immoral walking turd Rebekah Brooks and her aging cohort Rupert “surely if there was any justice in the world I’d be dead by now” Murdoch, but you know it’s coming. There will be a blog about these despicable “people” in the near future but for now I thought I’d share something quite lovely with you.

Yes, lovely. I came across this interesting cover of Linkin Park’s numb the other day and felt compelled to share. It’s done in a dubstep style with some pretty beautiful vocals and is more than just another “oh so fashionable” dubstep bandwagon effort. It’s by H320 and in my humble (OK maybe not humble, just correct) opinion well worth a listen by anybody. Check it out here….

Also, as I’m in the mood for sharing, here’s another cover version everybody should hear, this one made me smile, laugh and smile again from Richard Cheese. Probably one of those songs that until now was untouchable, until touched by the hand of Richard Cheese. Yes, It’s Bohemian Rhapsody, and yes it is amazing.

Anyway, here’s hoping you enjoy this month’s offerings, and this round of “something lovely”….

Oh and as for the aforementioned ratbags of UK media…watch this space.

Lots of love from your friendly neighbourhood Villan.

The Plague of Public Transport

The other day while I was on my phone on a bus, clearly giving directions to someone a bunch of utter uncivillised imbecillic morons with the collective class, intellect and social grace of a dog turd sat at the back decided it would be very clever to start playing really loud garage music from their mobile phone for all the bus to endure…
This is a common occurance here in Birmingham and to those people I have the following few things to say…

1.) You are a bunch of arseholes and need a lesson in manners, preferably one that involves shoving an 80s ghetto blaster inside your rectum.
2.) The music you play is usually shit! Most people would prefer “The Sounds of Silence”…Not the song by Simon and Garfunkel, just the version where you shut the fuck up!
3.) Have you ever heard of headphones? Your phone came with them!
4.) How would you like it if I started that shit with Opeth or Dead Kennedys or whatever punk/metal I have stored on my phone….
5.) Oh wait! I use an MP3 player with headphones
6.) Is part of your brain missing?
7.) Am I right in suggesting the louder the cacophony, the larger the penis extention?
8.) Are you trying to justify your petty existense by acting like a c**t because it’s as close to useful as you’ll ever get?
9.) If I wanted to hear it I’d buy it myself
and finally….10.) Please, please,  please, die in a car fire!

Anyway, I have to put up with this on literally every bus journey I go on, and can hear it over my own headphones some of the time. Is this just something that happens in the UK?

So if you are one of these idiots who is compelled to share their “music” then here is a pretty picture especially for you….

Lots of love from your friendly neighbourhood Villan

So, if you are a cellphone “DJ” and  are one of these imbecillic rectums who insist on blaring utter crapulence from a device designed for conversation which is oh so ironic as it  seems that’s something you’re (hopefully terminally) incapable of here are a few pointers for you….

If you can’t do us all a favour and make this purchase….

A simple way of making journeys more pleasant

Then, please, please for the sake of sanity clean your teeth with one of these!

A wonderful and refreshing alternative to flossing

How One Man Can Be So Bloody Annoying?

When I was a lad, back in the early 1980’s and this internet was nothing but fields, it was a far simpler time, I played with transformers, watched Star Fleet and was happy as a pig dancing in his own excrement as my beloved Aston Villa were riding high as champions of Europe.  Kids all over the nation hid behind the sofa whenever a Dalek appeared on the magical picture box in the corner and the summer holiday seemed to pass in mere nanoseconds. They were great times, fun times, hair was made from different stuff and everything smelled and looked just, well,  better.

The Internet circa 1982

Back then, Dexy’s Midnight Runners were asking Eileen to come on, Boy George wanted to know if we really did want to cause him harm and World of Sport still featured fat blokes in tights getting beaten up by irate grandmothers with big clunky handbags while shrieking like Terry Jones in many a Monty Python sketch…I could go on forever but today, this little foray into remembering the 1980’s is about to turn in a different direction.

Some fat blokes in tights

Now, the 1980’s gave us U2, Irish rock band, who back then wrote songs that meant something. Sunday Bloody Sunday, a damning indictment of the troubles in Northern Ireland, Pride (In The Name of Love)was in support of human and civil rights. They called for peace, tolerance, respect and then one day Bono put on a pair of ridiculous glasses and that respect went straight out of the window like a rock star’s television unfortunate enough to occupy a hotel room on a particularly mischief filled evening.

One of the many faces of mischief

Yes, Bono, you know the guy, the one whose smug face is ripe for punching, the self righteous, pompous ass who should be handed over to Dexter for a wonderfully interesting TV Christmas special. Bono, the tax dodging, hypocritical bucket of vomit who really should stop talking shite and actually live by his own example.

A new friend for Bono?

It’s funny, how back in those halcyon days back in the 1980’s when our aforementioned friend actually spoke some sense has changed from this paragon of virtue turned into such a gibbering gobshite. How he’s ruined the memory of a perfectly pleasant childhood and turned it into a stained mess, soured like a hobo’s pants left out in the sun.

You see, not content with telling us all that we should feed the world with our comparatively meager income, how we should give to the poor and needy this obnoxious, trumped up little turd still sees fit to do so, while wearing a silly hat and even more ridiculous sunglasses. And for this reason I dislike him. I hear his songs now, and as musically fine as they are, they leave me feeling a little bile filled and scared that so many people seem to agree with him and do as he says whilst he dons yet another pair of daft sunglasses and we have to think about our cheap car boot sale pair, because, well, somebody in a far off land might need that money even more.

Some silly sunglasses, yesterday

Now if that wasn’t bad enough, I recently learned that U2 don’t even pay tax. That’s right, they’re grubby little tax dodgers, yes it’s a case of the rich stay rich, while the poor face more public sector cuts, why more elderly people lose out on much needed care, why our libraries are closing, and still, Bono is donning yet more stupid sunglasses and more ridiculous hats, while telling us “Now wait a minute, people abroad are starving!” Well, I have news for you Bono, people in this country are losing out, and you don’t pay tax. You raging hypocrite.

Try paying your taxes, tosser!

This is why Bono is an ass, this is why you ruined the 1980’s, this is why I pray for that special episode of Dexter.

Oh, and another thing…you also have a really stupid name.

Bloody Hell and Grrr

Another one from the vault of Villan…this one was from May 2009 and originally thrown up on Live Journal, I don’t like it there, it’s dark and smells funny so I moved it here!

Bloody hell! That’s all I can say about this week……in fact I’ll say it again, only this time…bigger and red.

Bloody Hell!

Anyway, now that’s done with I have had a stupid week, a really stupid week thanks to a pair of prats who wasn’t watching what they were doing and a certain multimedia company whose name suggests they have never had sex. So now I have a story to tell.

Are you sitting comfortably? No? Tough! I’m starting now anyway.

A long time ago, in a garden far far away…..well actually it was just over a year ago and a garden in Stechford….

I was sat minding my own business after a radio show one Sunday night, this was back in the days when fellow SI DJ Chaotica used to run a show right after mine called The Basement. The Basement was a short-lived geek-a-thon chat show that was about gadgets, shiny things and computer related gubbins, and I was a part of the show too, giving my opinions, learned advice and generally being my normal loud and obnoxious self alongside the usual rabble that used to show up for the show. Anyway, the show was going rather well and Chaotica had cut to music when I noticed blue flashing lights outside, so I promptly made my polite excuses and went outside to investigate.

Lo and behold, the thing that greeted me was something I was not expecting, there was a big red fire engine and firemen putting out the remains of my smouldering garden fence. Yes, my fence had been set alight by someone’s carelessly discarded cigarette and I hadn’t noticed. So, after finding everything was now  OK if a little damp and smelling of smoke, I retired back to the PC and excitedly told everyone online the following sentance “Fucking hell! You wouldn’t believe what’s happened! Some twat has set fire to my fence and there’s firemen outside putting it out! How could I not notice?” Except when I say everybody…I mean EVERYBODY! It went out onair much to everybodys amusement.

So, the upshot of this was that I had no wooden fence but I did have a series of concrete poles that were originally holding the fence.

Anyway, the year passed by, it rained, it was sunny, it snowed, I had a girlfriend come and go, I went to the pub a lot and DJ’d a lot more, I grew a year  older, I got no wiser and eventually last Tuesday happened.

Again, Bloody hell!

Last Tuesday I was awoken by a phone call from my landlord informing me that I was to get a nice shiny new fence fitted, workmen were on their way and were going to put up a nice shiny metal fence with gothic pointy bits and a nice gate for both me and my neighbours. Lovely! Can’t be a bad thing can it? A bit of privacy, no more snotty little chav kids standing in my garden because they can’t tell the difference between it and the nearby bus stop, no more litter in my front yard and the bonus of making it look a bit nicer.

Now, you think this would be quick, easy and painless with the minimum of fuss, but that’s where it started, the horror of last week.
Sometime around 1pm on Tuesday afternoon the workmen took up the old posts and started to dig holes for the new ones and in doing so cut the cable for my cable TV and internet services as well as seriously damaging my phone line, and as I have no TV ariel was now stuck without TV or internet and a phone line that was afflicted with more interference than a mother-in-law’s pool party.

So, I began with the phone calls. And yes, that’s calls in the plural. I called up my providers, who as I said earlier their name suggests they’ve never had sex and told them what had happened. I also told them that as a disabled and therefore “special needs” customer that I was to have my services (or at least my phone) fixed within four hours. I spent 5 hours arguing with them, hearing loads of excuses that were ridiculous, including I’d not paid my bill which automatically comes out of my bank, that there was network trouble in the area and that I was wrong about what had happened, even though it was bloody obvious before they’d even agree for someone to fix them 2 days later because they had lost my records. Numerous phone calls and one incredibly irate me later they finally relented and agreed to send out an engineer. Who didn’t turn up and now my appointment was set for the Friday without my knowledge. If that isn’t incompetent enough, it gets better.

So, I call again on Wednesday only to be told they’ve lost the special needs record again, after only having it confirmed the night before and spent another 3 hours arguing unil they agreed to send someone out. By now I was on phone call 17…yes 17! and even more irate than I was the previous day. Again this person didn’t show up and my appointment, again without my knowledge or consent was moved to Saturday. I threatened to call head office who they wouldn’t give me the number for and then proceeded to tell me that not even the MD of the company would be able to get it fixed any quicker.

By this time I was fuming angry and said a few choice words to the moronic staff of this sex deprived organization and even though this was now phone call number 19 they still saw fit to tell me off for MY attitude. Cheeky gits!

Anyway, by now I decided enough was enough so told them that they owed me rent for storing their non-working equipment in my house and ended up getting £40 knocked off my bill which wasn’t too bad and did pay for my copy of Infamous for the PS3 but as you can imagine, as a disabled customer who was supposed to be back with his services within 4 hours, was still without them, and still looked like he’d be without them until Saturday  it was more than excusable for me to be a little bit miffed.

Then came Thursday, I woke up to a now dead landline and had to use my mobile, cue call 24. Yes 24! And this time the mioracle of all miracles had happened. I got a memeber of staff with a brain. One who was coherent, didn’t argue, pressed the right keys on her keyboard and assured me that an engineer would be out in 4 hours. Like I’d never heard that before…..

Well, this time the engineer turned up and found that I was right all along and said that they couldn’t fix it properly until the 10th June. Yes, this company was willing to let me have no TV, phone or net for 2 weeks and continue paying for it, but as there was access to another connection I could get a temporary repair done.

What really takes the piss is that it took him 17 minutes to fix. Thats less minutes than phone calls I made, and they couldn’t do that on Tuesday like they were supposed to?

So here ends my story of last week…..the nightmare I had at the hands of people who never had sex, the company who once owned a massive chain of record shops, an airline, a mobile phone company and some islands. A company famous in the annals of British history as a household name, a company that has made billions world wide, has had balloons flying all over the world, a radio station and apparently sometimes provides internet and cable TV services. A company whos name is a common prefix to Mary. And a company whose employees don’t like my attitude.

And more importantly, a company who have never ever had sex….ever. No wonder they can’t get anything done as they’re obviously too busy wanking to compensate.