Tuesday, 26 October 2010
Tuesday, 19 October 2010
Then I'd get another tattoo. I want one on my arm or on the top of my thigh, which isn't somewhere I had considered before I went to Leeds Festival, when I saw a girl with a biggish, sprawling tatt peeping out from under her shorts which I found pretty cool.
Then I'd go to a spa.
Then I'd take some chums to Paris. Or New York. Or Auckland.
If they behaved themselves I'd bring them back as well.
Then I'd buy an old Land Rover, give BJR the Picasso, and then Darcy and I would go on some adventures.
And I'd probably take some lovely people and dogs camping.
Isn't that all rather sensible?
Actually, I just re-read it and it isn't that sensible. But I wasn't just all "I'd buy some Prada boots that I'd be too frightened to wear outside".
Disclaimer: This is if I had like £5000. Not, you know, Lottery or even scratch card money. Just like a few good runs at the bingo, or something. If I had Lottery money I'd pay off MR & Pigpen's debts and mortgate then buy a farm and live there with lots of adopted greyhounds. Also I'd buy a better graphics tablet.
Sunday, 10 October 2010
Saturday, 9 October 2010
Either way, I watched again tonight (a decision I made before I knew it was eight days long) with my mum and tweeted alongside too from my BlackBerry. It was an incredibly long show (2 and a half hours, near enough) with so many adverts that we also watched Superhuman: World's Smallest on ITV4+1 quality) and didn't miss anything, there were so many ad breaks.
Here is a summary of my thoughts on this week's X Factor.
Reaction to 'Wild Card' announcements and far too excited about Diva Fever.
FYD: Better dancers than singers. Had literally forgotten them after the commercial break directly after their performance. Now, four hours later, I wouldn't even be able to describe any of them to the police if they assaulted me.
Rebecca: I was looking forward to her and found myself very underwhelmed. Fantastic dress, but very boring performance. I put 'Good advice, Simon." On twitter but can't remember what he said. No, I can! He told her to get over sad stuff and cheer the balls up. That must be why I added the 'Heroic'.
Storm: Amazed me by looking even more tragic and middle aged than he did already by dying his hair pink and wearing glittery Gaga makeup. His vocals were, you know, but him in general is an awful concept. MR's notes on the performance;
Bel Ami: All I could muster up was
and that is still all I have to say.
Diva Fever: I was momentarily thrown by the hugeness of the hideous suits, but then it all made sense when I realised there was stripping involved. They were entertaining, and had surprisingly good vocals (well, the one of them that actually sang did).
Kati Wastrel: I hate her. I agreed with Louis, the song was too big for her. She made Freddie Mercury come back as a zombie just so he could kill himself again.
Mary: I actually loved her. I liked that the song, the hair, the dress, etc grouped her in with soul divas like Shirley Bassey, as opposed to making her into the new Susan Boyle.
Niccolo: Rubbish song choice, Danni Minogue. And poor Niccolo knew it about 10 seconds into his performance which rendered the entire thing really frigging awkward.
1 Direction: High expectations; and they were excellent. They didn't ruin Coldplay.
Wagner: It was really annoying me that Louis kept calling him WAG-NER. I wanted to give ol' Vaggy a little cuddle when he finally said 'IT'S VAG-NER'.
Treyc: After my rant on Facebook you would think I would have been amazingly excited, yes? No. All I noticed about her was that she looked really uncomfortable in her dress and her arse looked pretty huge. MR thought she was sat down at one point, which was making her look like she had back, but it was in fact allllll her.
I just looked back over this post to check if I had included everyone. I only counted four names and realised the two I had missed were John and Paije. Ironically, all I had put about John was;
Failed to make an impact there, buddy.
Paije: He was amazing, no idea why he was the only one I didn't post about. He was very, very good (not that I can remember his song), but the only distinct thing I remember about his performance was MR saying 'Why are his shoes so massive?? Look at the size of his feet!'
Double throwing off tomorrow. I reckon Niccolo and maybe Wagner or Bel Ami
You know who doesn't deserve to get thrown off any show, ever?
Read his blog post about potatoes here.
Thursday, 7 October 2010
It's very stressful.
However, it's a part of life, visiting the opthamologist's office. Today, I even laughed there.
I have laughed before at the opthamologist's, but before today I always assumed the funniest thing that could happen at the opthamologist's was this;
Or possibly this;
But that was before today, when this happened;
What would Jorge do? Some pretty awesome shit, I'd guess!
As my duty to the UK, I have decided to make this blog an advice forum for David Cameron's secretary (Nick Clegg) to steal ideas from. However, this advice needn't apply only to the UK; people world-wide can start campaigns to have these simple concepts introduced to their countries*.
My first issue is fat people. Here is a fat guy:
Fat guys are great. They provide a lot of necessary comic relief and ease people's consciences, eg; "I'm eating this donut, but at least I'm not as fat as that guy.
However, sometimes fat guys ruin all the good they do for modern Britain by conducting themselves innappropriately. In order to help them live better, more productive lives I have compiled this list that I like to call; The List of Things Big Fat Guys Shouldn't Do.
Number 1: Big fat guys should not walk incredibly tiny, skinny dogs.
Tuesday, 5 October 2010
As I opened the door into the kitchen I realised it was cold; I had accidentally left the door to the garden open. Silently telling myself off I looked to my right and saw Darcy looking at me, looking incredibly keen to see me and tell me something... and covered in feathers.
I shut her in the kitchen which sent her into a panicked frenzy and she started screaming and trying to see me through the hatch, leaping around near the worktops. I tentatively approached the bird which was now squirming on the floor. As it moved I realised it did have a head, it was just out of sight on the other side of the bird. I decided to use my best Famous Five skills and nurse the bird back to health. I started by gently stroking its wing.
Monday, 4 October 2010
We'd been sat talking while I minced about with popadoms for about half an hour when in she walked, bold as brass and carrying a Corona; Miss F - the local answer to Jeremy Kyle. It was only last week that I had drunkely spent half an hour doing an impression of her matter of fact way of talking at you and we were staggered to see her swanning in.
Meeting for a laugh and a snack is something Miss D and I like to do quite regularly, we bitch and make a plate of chips last an hour and a half. All of this stopped, however, when Miss F walked in. She launched into a baffling rant about how her appetite had changed and chose to demonstrate this by listing everything she had eaten over the last 24 hours.Miss D and I had no idea what to do. We had not invited this situation and we did not know why this was happening to us. Without drawing breath Miss F then ploughed straight into a tirade about how she'd had an argument with her parents about money. She continued from that straight into how she and Little J are going to Amsterdam where she'll pick him a 'brass'. Without pause she then explained how hilarious Little J is as he goes to all the cafes in the area and rates their full english breakfasts out of ten. He has apparently been doing this for three years.
Neither me nor Miss D knew how to escape this and there were no gaps in Miss F's speech to suggest it was meant to be a dialogue; she was just talking and talking and talking. All we could do was stare awkwardly at one another trying not to laugh while inhaling our food.
When she eventually stopped talking (long after our meals were finished) she suddenly started going on about how she had to go to a candle party. I do not know what a candle party is. I started saying "What is a candle party? What is a candle party?" in the frantic manner of somebody who had not been able to talk for an hour. She explained. And then carried on explaining.
And then Miss D and I were going to the candle party.
"I know," she replied, "I literally cannot sit there and look at all those candles, what are we going to do? WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO???"
I am a good and loyal friend and therefore would have been willing to say almost anything to make sure I did not leave Miss D at the horror of the candle party. I was on the cusp of just shouting "SHE LIVES WITH ME. AS OF NOW. WE'RE GOING." When Miss D firmly insisted she wouldn't stay and then we ran off.
As soon as we got in the car I pressed the lock all doors button and we sat in a stunned silence.
"D," I tentatively began, "WHY DID WE ALLOW OURSELVES TO GET IN THAT SITUATION??"
We blathered on about it in horror as we drove to the supermarket. Even when we got there we were still shocked about it and ended up staggering through the aisles like we'd just been released after ten years in a nuclear bunker.
I have now turned to blogging. I will have to become very famous and excellent and rich at it so I can afford the necessary plastic surgery to completely change my appearance and therefore enable myself to hide in plain sight from Miss F.
PS. As soon as I got home I decided to consult my lifestyle guidance counsellor- not that she knows of her title- Allie at Hyperbole and a Half, to see what she would have done in this situation. As is clear by her post "The Awkward Situation Survival Guide", she probably would have ended up at the candle party too.