Showing posts with label Chuck Norris. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chuck Norris. Show all posts

Wednesday, 10 October 2012

The Power of Dave



You may think that my name is Plastic – it isn’t. I’m not sure that I could go through life with the name Plastic Mancunian – people would think that I am as weird as my name.

What do you mean "You are!"?

My real name is Dave.

I love being called Dave. It is a great name, a wonderful name – a bloke’s name.

My mum and sisters, and indeed my aunts and cousins, all insist on calling me David, despite my insistence that Dave is the name I prefer to be known by. I guess in my mum’s case, she would argue that David was the name she chose, the name she fought over with my dad, and the name that is on my birth certificate.

My dad was called George, as was his dad and his dad’s dad. He wanted to prolong the family name by making me George IV; thankfully my mum won that particular argument. She didn’t get it all her own way, sadly, because I am stuck with George as a middle name, something I only rarely admit.

I can therefore understand why my mum insists that my name is David, and has drummed it into my sisters, my aunts and any other family members that, despite my protestations, I am David.

I’m not David – I am Dave.

Whenever I introduce myself to new people I say

“Hi, I’m Dave.”

That says it all for me.

Such is the power of Dave that there is a feeling amongst non-Daves that we are taking over the planet. And maybe we are.

For starters, in the UK, all Daves have our own TV channel named after us. I am not making this up.

Dave TV was named such because “Everybody knows somebody called Dave”.

And from my experience that is true. The channel also sells itself as “The Home of Witty Banter” and shows a constant stream of old favourite comedy shows. Such is the power of Dave TV that they have produced, exclusively, two new series of Red Dwarf, one of my favourite all time comedy shows.

Here is the trailer for the brand new series, Red Dwarf X, which started on Dave last Thursday:




And, of course, the hero of Red Dwarf is another Dave – Dave Lister.

This is the power of Dave. Of course, Dave TV was first mentioned by another Dave (David Lee Roth) in his video for Just a Gigolo:







Conspiracy theorists, who consider the Power of Dave to be an evil cult bent of taking over the world, may actually have a point.

Here is the evidence:




As well as having a logo on the moon, here in the UK, our Prime Minister is a Dave – David Cameron. That is just the beginning. It won’t be long before we have a Dave in the White House, the Parliament of Australia and the Government of Canada.

Getting a Dave into the Kremlin or the Government of the People’s Republic of China might be tricky though. I’m sure that there are Daves in Russia (Dave in Russian is Дэйв) and China (Dave in Chinese is 戴夫). There must be somebody with those names in those countries.

Here are one or two interesting facts about the name David:

David is a really old name, originating from ancient Mesapotamia.

St David is the patron saint of Wales.

Variants of David are Dave, Davey, Davie, Davy, Dafydd, Dewi, Dai, Daf, Dovi and Dof.

The female equivalent is Davina.

David means “Beloved”

As much as I love my name, I wouldn’t want every other bloke in the world to be called Dave – imagine the confusion and chaos that would ensue.

Dave is such a popular name at the moment that I know quite a few other Dave’s. On one project I worked on a few years ago, there were no fewer than four Dave’s all sitting on the same table. People would come into the office and say “Where’s Dave?”

Four people would look around and say “Here I am – are you blind?”

It was a tough project but a fun one, and while we were all working really hard, things went wrong, so much so that we created an “Excuses Register”. There were some classic in-house excuses that we all used but my particular favourites, given that there were four Dave’s, were:

“Dave asked me to do that.”

“Dave wrote that.”

“I thought Dave was meant to do that.”

Also, can you imagine being called Dave and married to a Davina?

“Dave and Davina” doesn’t really have a ring to it, does it? Or is that just me?

It just sounds – well – SILLY.

Thankfully Mrs PM is not called Davina, although if she were, I would still love her (though I may try to persuade her to change her name).

In conclusion, I would like to thank my mum for fighting to have me called Dave. I have my own TV channel and I share the name of a boy who slew a giant called Goliath armed only with a sling. If only I could do something similar.

I’ll leave you with a few quotes from a fellow Dave from America, a very funny guy called Dave Barry, a man who surely, like me, embraces the Power of Dave.

Violence and smut are of course everywhere on the airwaves. You cannot turn on your television without seeing them, although sometimes you have to hunt around.

Skiing combines outdoor fun with knocking down trees with your face.

Not all chemicals are bad. Without chemicals such as hydrogen and oxygen, for example, there would be no way to make water, a vital ingredient in beer.

You can only be young once. But you can always be immature.

Never assume that the guy understands that you and he have a relationship. 

Life is anything that dies when you stomp on it. 

'Escargot' is French for 'fat crawling bag of phlegm'. 

If God had wanted us to be concerned for the plight of the toads, he would have made them cute and furry. 

Tuesday, 23 August 2011

Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, ...


This post is a little crude.

I apologise for that in advance but I feel I need to post about something that has irritated me for the past year or two.

I have two personal email accounts, one for this blog and one other.

The email for for this blog is fairly anonymous and serves to inform me when people have commented on the blog, people who have decided to follow me on Twitter and other fairly mundane stuff.

I get a few emails as you would imagine. However, I get thousands of emails in a folder called Spam.

I feel like I’ve been to this transport café:



I have never used my email account to tell anybody about any problems, even anonymously. Yet I am discovering that people want to help me, in many different ways, to improve my personal life. And they are sending me thousands of emails to tell me.

And these people are persistent, I can tell you.

I don’t ever recall telling anybody that I am having trouble in the bedroom department. And before you start sniggering, I am functioning perfectly.

Yet somebody somewhere feels the need to continually offer me a solution to a non-existent problem, in the form of a little blue pill called Viagra.

And it’s not just one email – its loads of them – from many different sources.

If really did have the problem that Viagra solves, do you think I would send out an email to lots of random people saying:

Hey guys, have you got a cure for erectile dysfunction? I have a real problem with that - and PLEASE don’t tell my mates.

It’s bad enough seeing an email like:

Hey, Plastic, do you have problems between the sheets? We guarantee to give you the power to make a HUGE tent in your bed.

without the ignominy of a mate seeing the email and saying:

Is there something you want to tell us, Dave? Hey lads, it looks like Dave needs some help in the trouser department.

It’s not just Viagra spam. Other emails offer a more drastic solution to problems in that area.

Hey Plastic, do girls laugh at your small winkie? With our winkie extension procedure we can guarantee that you will positively WANT to slowly change your underwear in a room full of hot women. Most will faint and those that don’t will want to jump on you. What’s more, you’ll be so proud that your winkie has turned into a monster that you will want to show it off to your mates.

Change my underwear slowly in a room full of women? Show my mates? I don’t think I could survive either of those without violent pain or eternal savaging.

I’ve heard that the procedure possibly involves a needle or worse.

Why would I even consider such drastic action?

As well as offering bodily enhancements, I have been offered brides from various parts of the world.

Hey Plastic, are you desperately lonely? Do you want to meet Russian women? Or Chinese women? Or Thai women? Or French women? Or American women? Or British women? Or any women from anywhere in the world? We can guarantee that you will meet and marry a voluptuous woman, even if you look like the rear end of a baboon and have the personality of Marvin the Paranoid Android.

And it’s worse than that. These people know where I live.

Hey Plastic, join our dating site and we guarantee you will find the love of your life. We have thousands of HOT WOMEN in the Manchester area ALL dying to meet you.

Presumably if they know I have been receiving emails about erectile dysfunction, winkie extensions and mail order brides they will come armed with Viagra, needles and weapons of pain.

I’m half expecting them to knock on my door asking for a guy called Plastic Mancunian, a name that, when I think about it, makes me sound like some weird pervert.

I would like to just say one thing to anybody who reads this and who happens to send me these spammy emails.

PLEASE STOP!!!!

Your emails only end up in a folder labelled Spam and I delete them without reading them (even though they have amusing titles).

Perhaps I should just change my email address and the name of my blog and the pseudonym I use.

How about one of these?

Rock Hammer

Goliath Fist


Brutus Bonecrusher

None of them are really me and I would bet I would still receive emails like:

Hey Goliath, are you ashamed of your winkie?

Perhaps I should just call myself Chuck Norris. That might work here are some Chuck Norris facts that might deter spammers:

Chuck Norris never sleeps – he waits

Chuck Norris can slam revolving doors

Ghosts are caused by Chuck Norris killing people faster than the Grim Reaper can process them

Chuck Norris can build a snowman out of rain

Chuck Norris doesn’t do press-ups. He pushes the earth down

Chuck Norris can do a wheelie on a unicycle

Chuck Norris died ten years ago but the Grim Reaper is too afraid to tell him

Giraffes were created when Chuck Norris uppercutted a horse

Chuck Norris is the only man on earth who can kick you in the back of the face

Chuck Norris can punch a man in the soul

An important fact I could spread is

Chuck Norris tracks down spammers and makes them eat their own Viagra.

Actually on second thoughts please don’t tell Chuck Norris that a guy called Plastic is trying to use his name; I think I’d rather take my chances with the Viagra.


Monday, 23 March 2009

Chuck Norris Versus Mr T

I am going to attempt to answer an impossible question. The greatest minds on the planet have been debating the answer since the eighties and have failed miserably. But I, a mere mortal from Manchester, have succeeded where they have failed.

The question is:

Who is the greatest: Chuck Norris or Mr T?


Before I answer I have a couple of things to say. Both men have been involved in some of the best movie fights ever. Chuck Norris took on Bruce Lee in arguably the greatest martial arts battle ever seen on the screen in Way Of The Dragon. Chuck Norris lost unfortunately (but fear not – he was paid to throw the fight).

Mr T positively mauled Silvester Stallone in Rocky III, the only time I’ve seen Rocky Balboa battered to a pulp. Of course, towards the end of the film, Stallone got his revenge by pretending to be a tiger (Mr T was also paid to throw the fight).

A couple of years ago, I was at the Manchester Evening News Arena, waiting to see a concert when all of a sudden, Chuck Norris came to my attention. He wasn’t actually present but there were clearly a few fans in the crowd. How do I know? Well, at the venue, it is possible to send SMS messages to a number and have your messages displayed on the scoreboard there. Usually you end up with utter bilge like:

Frank luvs Rachel xxx

However, on this particular evening, people were sending rather bizarre messages like:

Chuck Norris counted to infinity – TWICE

Chuck Norris is so fast he can run around the world and punch himself in the back of the head

Well I have to tell you, I was impressed. And I have discovered that there are a lot more facts about Chuck Norris. Here are a few of my favourites:

Chuck Norris never sleeps – he waits

Chuck Norris can slam revolving doors

Ghosts are caused by Chuck Norris killing people faster than the Grim Reaper can process them

Chuck Norris can build a snowman out of rain

Chuck Norris doesn’t do press-ups. He pushes the earth down

Chuck Norris can do a wheelie on a unicycle

Chuck Norris died ten years ago but the Grim Reaper is too afraid to tell him

Giraffes were created when Chuck Norris uppercutted a horse

Chuck Norris is the only man on earth who can kick you in the back of the face

Chuck Norris can punch a man in the soul

But what about Mr T? Are there similar facts about the mean machine that kicked Stallone’s bottom? Yes there are – here are twelve of the best:

Mr T does not break wind – he destroys it

Mr T destroyed the periodic table because he only recognises the element of surprise

Mr T is so scary that his hair is afraid to grow. The only reason he has a Mohawk is because it’s in his blind spot

Mr T invented the IQ testing system so that he could pity the fools more accurately

Mr T once won the Olympics – all of them

Mr T and Superman once fought for a bet. The loser had to wear their underpants on the outside

Mr T can beat a wall at tennis

The United States Federal Reserve Bank decided that Mr T’s neck was a much safer place for their gold than Fort Knox

Mr T once pitied the Sun – an Ice Age followed

There are only four horsemen of the apocalypse because Mr T is going to walk

Mr T once bit off more than he could chew. He ate it anyway.

Mr. T speaks only when necessary. His main form of communication is folding his arms and slowly shaking his head. And regardless of the situation, he is always understood.

So who is better? Both have kicked bums in films and both appear to be the best of the best of the best of the best. In order to decide we have to look further than films – we have to look to television. In the interests of research I recently watched episodes of Walker, Texas Ranger and The A-Team.

First, I was amazed to discover that Walker, Texas Ranger ran for eight seasons and finished in 2001. That means somebody must have enjoyed it. In the episode I saw it was basically Chuck Norris as the good guy, protecting innocent people by kicking the backsides of bad guys into the middle of next week’s episode, barely breaking a sweat as the sole of his boot lifted his poor victims a few feet off the ground. I can see where the Chuck Norris facts come from. I know that if I were a bad guy intent on breaking the law in the United States, I would think twice about heading to Texas to do so.

Sadly, for Chuck Norris, I have to admit that I loved The A-Team. It wasn’t just the fact that Mr T played the meanest man in America; I loved the humour, the insanity of Howling Mad Murdoch, the way the team were locked in a garage full of enough junk to build a spaceship (thought they always chose to build a tank), the verbal sparring between Murdoch and Mr T, the way Hannibal Smith, clearly an old man, could kick bottom while calling the villains sleazeballs and chewing on a cigar, the way Face could con anybody out of anything, and best of all, the fact that they never ever killed anybody, despite firing hundreds of bullets and the way B.A. had to be drugged to fly. Each episode was totally predictable; the A-Team would come up against really bad people victimising vulnerable but weak good guys who were heroes in a previous life. The victims would include a lovely woman who would end up having a fling with Face, or on occasion one of the others. At the end of the show, a car driven by a bad guy would be flipped over by a well placed grenade and the villains would crawl out shaken but uninjured. It was simple and thoroughly enjoyable.

For that reason alone, I have to side with Mr T, a man who showed that he was so tough but had a heart made of more gold than he wore. And he was funny, particularly when dealing with Murdoch.

More than anything else, however, Mr T has recently appeared once more on our screens in commercials for the chocolate bar Snickers and they are hilarious. Here they are:





In conclusion, I think you know who I consider to be the greatest. The answer is (cue fanfare):

Mr T

Chuck Norris has kicked a lot of bottom but Mr T was in the A-Team and has enough catchphrases to defeat an army of bad guys.

Please don’t tell Chuck Norris about this post. I really don’t want to have my door kicked down, the back of my face kicked and my soul punched.

I'm off to get some nuts!