January 20, 2005

WINNER!


I just wrote this post, took sodding ages over it, and then Blogger decided it would fuck up completely, so has deleted the whole bastard lot. I'm not happy and have quickly been reminded what I very much dislike about blogging on Blogger. Ho hum.

Anyhow, back to the subject. We have a winner! Competition time has finally reached it's conclusion, and the jury, after eleven hot and sweaty nights of deliberation, argument and mud wrestling have finally reached a decision.
Yes, I shit you not.

Thankyou for all your bizarre guesses (and they were guesses, as none of you had a clue who the song was by), which made me snigger and titter to myself. Beth was disqualified early on for offering Keane as an answer (bad idea, very bad idea), and for the longest time Blue Witch's guess of Frank Sinatra was in the lead, but despite all this there can only be one winner, and that is Creepy Lesbo with Madame Cholet from the Wombles!

In a perfect world that is blatantly who the song would be sung by, but this is in no way a perfect world, and in this reality the song, despite appearing to be not dissimilar to a steaming bucket of afterbirth, is actually the handiwork of RUB ULTRA. Remember that name. They're shite. The only reason I own this record is because I went through a phase in my late teens when I thought it would be a good idea to randomly buy singles on the off chance that I might pick up a hidden gem or two. Which I did, Sour Times by Portishead, months before Dummy was released being one example. But I also picked up some total crap. Like this. You win some, you lose some. I haven't yet destroyed it because the lyrics are hilarious and make me laugh like a twat. One day it's time will come, that I know.

So well done Creepy Lesbo! I will arrange a prize of sorts for you. God knows what it will be, but give me a week and I'm sure to come up with some old crap.

And cheers Santa. The telly rocks. Geezer.

Finally, I hear that some clever git has invented a super mega jumbo jet than can carry 850 passengers, has a wingspan of 90 metres, has numerous bars, a gym, a creche, a restaurant, and a shitload of double beds! Brilliant, or so it seems. Despite all this us plebs in economy only get an extra inch of legroom to stretch out in (dump the gym and creche I say), and all the airports it's going to fly into are having to widen their runways. Heathrow alone is having to spend over £450 million to do this. £450 million! And it's hardly any more economically or environmentally friendly than what's in the air at the moment. PLUS just imagine what the scene will look like if one of these bad boys crashes with a full quota of holidaymakers. Not pretty.

So I'm not sure about it. What do you think though? Big plane good? Or big plane bad?


This is not a big plane.

January 17, 2005

News


As a postscript (or something) to the below post, I'd just like to mention that I feel no guilt. I am, quite incredibly, extremely happy with pretty much everything in my life at the moment, and England won in the cricket AGAIN, so any attempts by anyone to make me feel bad about taking a breather will be blithely ignored.


As a post-postscript (or something) I am on the brink of buying a record because a magazine says that it's good. This has happened before with disastrous consequences, so if anyone knows anything about Rilo Kiley please divulge. I'm intrigued and will splurge cash. I'm proud of using interesting words.

And lastly, while I was away a large chunk of humanity was eaten up and spat out by Mother Earth. Humankind probably deserves this kind of thing, but all the people who have lost their loved ones, their homes, and their lives do not. So if you haven't already, please donate as much money as you can to help these people rebuild their lives, or even just survive. Go to www.dec.org.uk or UNICEF's homepage, or any other charity you know. You can even give money at Marks and Spencers. That's what I did. It might not be all over the news like it was a couple of weeks ago, but that doesn't mean they don't still need help.

My dad has a new homepage, and if you haven't already, check out his blog. He's my dad and he's grand.

Tracks of the day (with a nod to BethGirlOnATrain):
  1. Long Time Coming - The Delays
  2. Television - Robyn Hitchcock

Excuses


This could take a while.

  • I'm chronically lathargic.
  • My computer is always being used by my girlfriend. And not for porn either.
  • I was sacked (this is true).
  • Get off my back! It was Christmas for f**ks sake!
  • I have been carrying out essential maintenance in my abode.
  • New year happened.
  • Four birthdays in three days, including mine and my mothers. This will inevitably balls up any plans made prior to the event.
  • I got loads of wicked presents and hey, a boys' gotta play with his toys.
  • I was, on occasion, slightly tipsy.
  • I went to Felixstowe for three days. Anyone who has ever been there will understand.
  • I was asleep.
  • I contemplated learning the piano. I'm still contemplating.
  • I went to the cinema. Three times. Oooh.
  • I went clothes-shopping with my girlie, and as I'm 100% sure we are all aware, that's not something you can do in five minutes. These things take time.
  • I like baths, and seeing as I was on holiday, I stretched them out a bit.
  • Cricket.
  • Parents visited and are great. Sorry blog, but you come a poor second to blood.
  • We have an extremely demanding bunny. We know our place in the lagomorph heirachy that's for sure.
  • Painters are scary.
  • Time flies and all that.
And I started a new job today. Woo.

Til we meet again...