Sunday, 29 April 2007

101st Blog Entry - I Wish I Had Found This Video One Post Earlier

Dan le sac vs Scroobius Pip

Kinda funny, kinda too-scene, and kinda like the brains of those angry ranty men you always end up friends with even though they detest your ideals and everything you stand for, played out over an electro beat.
You know, one minute you're merely debating whose round it is and whether to get crisps, and the next it's all 'YOU MAKE ME SICK THAT'S JUST WHAT I'D EXPECT YOU TO DO GOD YOU JUST DON'T GET IT DO YOU' after you suggest Beef flavour and suddenly you have do defend all your moral values when actually you wouldn't even mind Salt and Vinegar but no one else was making a decision.

But I digress!

Actually I don't, I don't have much more to say on the matter. What else?

Tonight I have been plagued by a mouse running around the flat and ignoring all the humane traps, bad television and a poster falling on my head. What is more peeving is that none of my varied shrieks of horror or suprise have gone at all warranted by the flatmate who is 'reading' in her room.

Also I have a boring boring temp job which saps my creativity, my joie de vivre but thankfully has the opposite effect on the old bank balance...or will do after another five days of inputting data and listening non stop to capital FM (how else do you think I heard Rihanna?!)
My thoughts on Capital Radio generally are as follows:

*James Morrison, Paulo Nutini and James Blunt should not exist, although I would grant them life if they took a vow of silence and joined a far away monistary.

*All people in London who call into Capital sound like complete retards. Without exception.

*It appears the good folk of London have no need for news updates of more than a sentence, but desire long reports on the Blackwall Tunnel every half an hour.

*The DJs all sound the same - like sleazy 40-something men who wear leather jackets and have greasy curtain hair which they have not changed in twenty years. (Although at least they aren't all jolly northerners who feel the need to say 'eeh oop' or whatever every other word to prove that although they live in Primrose Hill and shop in Fresh and Wild they are very much still in touch with the working man...that's Radio 1 btw)

*It's actually not that bad...

100th Blog Entry - I Can't Believe it's on Rihanna

This song by Rihanna is very good! (jesus, things you think you would never say...) Now I am not usually a fan of dancehall-lite 'if I dress in no clothes and shake my arse till my lower back goes it's called empowerment' style music, but something about this song, especially the version without Jay Z rambling on in the background like a gangsta with Alzheimers, is really good! Actually, I know what it is, it's the 'ela, ela, ela, eh, eeh, eeh' bit.

There is a video, but it's bobbins and features the senile ramblings, so instead you can make do with this nice photo of Rihanna aptly demonstrating how not to use an umbrella and so casting into doubt the claim that to 'stand under my umbrella' would be as advantageous as she seems to think.

Monday, 23 April 2007

When Fashion Attacks...

...or how a simple pair of jeans can make you look like yo poppa buggered ya so much in tha trailer when ya wuz a chile that ya havta wear an adult nappy!

Icky icky ick, I'd rather have a muffin top than have a lower torso like a cabbagepatch kid... (KEEP your comments to yourselves)

Although this is quite a good example of the Biche coined phrase 'concertina crotch' a common side effect of linen trousers worn by office proles in summer and apparently fugly high waisted jeans.

kudos to dlisted for the pic. I think I owe him quite a lot of kudoses. Muchos Kudos.

R.I.P Yeltsin, You Russian Dog, You

You weren't as good as Gobachev, but you were better than Putin and sure as hell could dance a funky chicken

Photo of the Day - The New Joker

Apparently this is some makeup test which has allowed the world to see Heath Ledger as he will look when he steps into Jack Nicholson's old shoes to play the Joker in the new Batman film.
I am usually quite a fan of ole Heath, but not too sure about this look - he doesn't have Jack's eyebrows and looks stoned rather than mad. Actually he looks like an Aussie stoner who has been beaten to death for being gay and then dredged from the bottom of a creek. Sexy.

Still, I suppose you win some you lose some, Christian Bale is better looking than Michael Keaton, so maybe the fit/ming ratio (naturally what I judge film quality on, rather than narrative, plot and the like) will be the same.

Sunday, 22 April 2007

"Then We Will Hug in the Shade"

Oh god, I just cried a little bit with laughter. Out the corner of my eye. Not real tears y'see. Ha.

Boys Had Better Beware...

So should girls who liked indie music circa 1996...before you know it you will be dusting off a CD collection that died at the advent of broadband internet, digging out Dig! (arf!) and working out the love compatability between you and Courtney Taylor Taylor.


kudos to Owain for the vid...Okay, so I didn't say the obvious things, but eeeh, there is too much bile on this site lately. I need to get some Rennies.

More North American Scum

Aah, nothing like a nice right-wing american cartoon to fire the blood up on a Sunday afternoon, just a mere two days after convincing yourself that idiots like Big Boy Mark were one-off fuckwits who were in no way representative of the Leaders of the Free World (c)

note: Free World = US and the UK, everyone else is enslaved either to an false prophet or to their sisters who they spend all their time fucking, whilst eating garlic cheese, smoking funny little cigarettes and avoiding war outside bistros of EVIL

It may take a few seconds to work out this cartoon, I certainly stared at it with the kind of confused anger usually shown on the face of someone who has just come home to find their husband boffing their pet dog (I imagine)

I think my dear friend Acrobat put it most simply:

"cos school shooting s are EXACTLY THE SAME as abortions"

At the end of the day it's hard to get too angry however... I mean, these people who believe in critisizing murdered teenagers, bombing abortion clinics and hating arabs are on the whole the same people who believe in hell. Therefore even if I am wrong and our conciousnesses do not die with our physical bodies, it means they won't be in for a big suprise.

kudos to Acrobat for the cartoon (pointing out of, not drawing of, I hasten to add)

Saturday, 21 April 2007

Fun Fact! - Penis Panic

Still slightly preoccupied by the Penis Power woman below, I thought I would noodle around on wikipedia, and under the entry 'penis panic' (a condition in which an individual is overcome with the belief that his/her external genitals—or also, in females, breasts—are retracting into the body, shrinking, or in some male cases, may be imminently removed or disappear.) I found this little gem of a story:

"In September 2003, the Middle East Media Research Institute reported a hysteria of "penis-melting cyborg combs" in Khartoum, capital of Sudan.[citation needed]

Sudanese victims were made to believe by force of suggestion that their penises would melt away after they shared an electronic (or "cyborg") comb, shook hands, or received a verbal curse. The so-called "penis-melting" has been blamed on Zionists trying to wipe out the Sudanese people by making their men unable to reproduce.

The hysterical reports were spread throughout Sudan by means of cell phone text-messaging.

Local media also contributed to the idea's spread. The Sudanese columnist Ja'far Abbas has warned visitors to avoid shaking hands with "a dark-skinned man". In reference to the electronic comb which was supposed to have caused one man's penis to disappear, Abbas writes, "No doubt, this comb was a laser-controlled surgical cyborg that penetrates the skull, [passes] to the lower body and emasculates a man!!"

Sudanese police investigated the claims and have found no evidence of anything supernatural, and that it is likely a hoax which victims believed through the power of suggestion. Mr. Abul-Gasim Mohamed Ibrahim, Sudan's Minister of Health, issued official statements to calm the public's fears.

The phrase "Penis-melting Zionist cyborg combs" has been coined to describe this humorous story. It was originally incorrectly attributed to Wall Street Journal's James Taranto writing in his "Best of the Web Today".[1] However, a quick perusal of the article in question reveals no such phrase, nor anything similar beyond the words "penis melt"."

Penis Power Y'all

This is a bit like the video version of More Magazine, if it was written by some of those evangelical gospel women who frequent the Deep South....or that big church in Finsbury Park.

A-men Sister! *thumps boobs with one fist whilst other is waggled aloft*

kudos to kate for the vid

Friday, 20 April 2007


To counteract the fury of yeterday here is an ickle kitty on a teddy bear.


Thursday, 19 April 2007

North American Scum

This fat fuck is called 'Big Boy Mark' and has an inane blog which can be found HERE.

I was merely laughing at the corpulent fuck, until I got to his entry on the Virginia Tech Massacre :

"Excuse me, but maybe it’s my instincts, my training, the way I was raised, my desire to live, the strain of whatever idiocy it is that runs thru me that says I will not just roll over and die, I will not surrender and I will not submit, but for the love of God, didn’t ANYONE think of fighting back??"

What was Mark trained as? A human shield? I would say running at a gun-toting madman was almost the same as rolling over and dying, particularly if you are rather rotund and more liable to rolling.

"Did 32 people just say ‘Oh well, he has a gun, I’m guess I’m going to die’?? Did 29 wounded people think, ‘Oh well, he’s shooting us all, I’ll just hide behind a desk and maybe he won’t shoot me again’?? Did no one have the GUTS to RUSH this guy and try to save themselves or their friends?? Apparently not, and for that lack of action, there is no excuse…"

Well it appears no one quite had Big Boy Mark's Guts, that's for sure, thankfully they had guts that could fit behind desks and brains to realise that bum rushing a hale of bullets is suicidal rather than heroic. I think that is actually quite a good excuse, along with the excuse that they were not IDIOTIC LAZY OBESE FUCKTARDS WHO SPEND ALL DAY ON THE SOFA MASTERBATING TO SAVING PRIVATE RYAN. (probably) You know he's sitting there at the computer with cheeto cheese all over his chin and the NRA website on the another window fantasising about saving all those lily-livered coward kids and smoting the evil badguy as one chubby little paw heads south....

"The MSM keeps on referring to the shooter as being heavily armed, well, apparently the MSM has never been to a real gunfight, going to a gunfight with a 9mm pistol and a .22 pistol does NOT qualify as being heavily armed."

Well, if we are going to get all pedantic...the deaths of 32 people is SUCH a good time to discuss the symantics of what 'heavily armed' means.

Really, why spend time critisising the poor people who one minute were taking French lessons, chewing gum and wondering what to have for lunch and the next were fighting for their lives, covered in the blood and brains of their fellow pupils? Why not critisise the authorities who totally failed to evacuate the school/find the shooter/do seemingly anything apart from twiddle their thumbs after the first two people were shot?

I'm so angry I can't even bring myself to laugh at him for being morbidly obsese and the '...what's your excuse' caption.

Picture of the Day - I Smell a Remake..

Wednesday, 18 April 2007

The Biche Sells Out But Reveals the Cause of Her Baked Bean Phobia

When I was young my Dad had this album and I realise now it was the sight of Roger Daltrey sitting in cold beans with glutenous bean juice and slimy bean fragments all over his chin that did (and still does) make me shudder like a willowtree in a breeze and even want to vom a little.

Goddamn you Who! If it wasn't for you my daily vegtable intake would be far greater on average, and I would probably be super fit and healthy and running the London Marathon and entering Britain's Next Top Model (ssssh! don't ruin the dream) but nooooo! I'm decidedly average in most ways apart from my exceptional ability to go to the gym daily and still get fatter and fatter! (so continuing on an earlier theme, if I tell you you look thin, please hit me around the chubby face with a celery stick or something)

Oh yeah, in other news I am skint-ish, so am thinking of putting adverts on this page and then if you lovely fantastic sexy people click them I get money! (not sure how much or anything really, but the recent spate of birthdays, couple breakdowns and leaving drinks is hitting hard)

I dunno, tis worth a try. If they hideously compromise the Speeches of Biches Ideal, such as if they advertise - par example - guns, cakes, tories, christians, coke zero, I will take them off again, and integrity shall be gloriously regained!

Edit: Yeah I suppose you could say 'integrity has been gloriously regained'. It was more a case of me being retarded and not sure how to collect the meager pence I would have gained from having one small ad for weight loss pills on my site, so figured it wasn't worth the hassle.

Tuesday, 17 April 2007

Yet Another Interruption to Service

The Flatmate (pictured here in happier times) is doing her dissertation so has dibs on the laptop for the time being.

Given that this is a random sentence lifted from some large amount of photocoping :

'We could say of supermodernity that it is the face of a coin whose obverse represepnts postmodernity: the positive of a negative'

I think I will leave it to her, and bumble back to my post-university mental slump a.k.a daytime tv and magazines pinched from the recycle bin downstairs.

a previous looming deadline for le apartement amie

Monday, 16 April 2007

Pearls of Wisdom - Weight.

A magazine once did a survey, and it turns out that in a list of the 'nicest things men can say to women', 'I love you' came in at number 2, whilst 'Have you lost weight?' came in at number 1.


If a woman (well, usually it is women) says 'Have you lost weight?' most of the time it does not mean 'I think you are looking thinner.' It means 'My god I feel so fat right now; everyone is thinner than me, I'm such a corpulent lump of lard, even this fat fuck looks svelt now next to my flabby frame.'


Sunday, 15 April 2007

Photo of the Day - What a Pair of Tits

Only heterosexual men would find this in the remotest way cool and attractive. Heterosexual men who like shagging men when they're 'fucking wasted dude'.
Everyone else would be put off sex/men/their dinner/the human species

Friday, 13 April 2007

The Pasta of Nightmares

*shudder* and to think I quite like kewpie dolls, to the point where I almost considered collecting them, only they are dead expensive.
I just know I am going to dream about being chased down an ever narrowing corridor by a load of dead eyed pasta dolls.
Join me!
The following videos are less scary btw

Well, that is still faintly menacing..

This last one makes me actually want to join the cult of cod roe ramen named after a make of doll popular in pre war America! (Tarako, in case that wasn't sledgehammer-in -the-face blindingly clear)

Then again, I don't want to look like this douche. Seriously, exactly how hard is the song?

Thursday, 12 April 2007

I Shit You Not - Hello Kitty Airways!

Well, actually Eva Air in Singapore have made some Hello Kitty themed planes, I imagine so the MENTALLY AND EMOTIONALLY RETARDED can go on holiday. Or children, same difference.

Actually what I find most amazing in the care taken with the in-flight food...carrots shaped as Kitty? Something dubious that could be egg shaped as Kitty? Frankly I'm disappointed the meat in the curry isn't shaped into comical feline form! (I like the way in the pic to the right they have laid out every individual Kitty corn snack, it half smacks of Singaporian fastidiousness that they want to show you exactly how many snacks you get, and it half looks like the dinner of an obsessive compulsive paedophile psycho.)

kudos to rojaks for the images

Photo of the Day - Happy Birthday Bobo!

Well, I recently realised my dear little Bobo had been with me over a year, and I never really acknowledged it. Then I found this darling little photo. And realised I was a fucking loser.

Will Ferrell Movie Generator

Is quite funny and can be found HERE
I dunno, I don't think I've seen him in much apart from Zoolander (No! I haven't seen Anchorman! So shoot me!) But I do get the impression his films are somewhat..formulaic? For example I know he is now doing a basketball movie, having done an iceskaing movie, a baseball movie, a racecar driving movie...Damn! Foiled by my lack of Will Ferrell knowledge again! Oh well, the movie generator is still funny.

The word 'movie' now sounds really odd...

Natasha Bedingfield, I Take it Back..

Okay, I don't really, but I have discovered a large jawed blonde who musically and physically makes Miz Bedingfield look like the new Madonna-Kylie savior of all music. Who is this awful wench I hear you cry?


You know if you listen to the radio/MTV a lot (or in my current unemployed state, spend time in the gym where MTV Dance is blasted out at Noriega surrendering levels, rendering even ipods useless) there are always certain songs you don't out and out hate because they are too lame and dirivitive to actually inspire emotion,but suffer stoicly? (much like a russian peasant pulling a plough across a potato farm in a blizzard)

That dance version of Savage Garden's Truly Madly Deeply?
That rip off of Toca's Miracle?
That godforsaken 'Everytime We Touch'?
At least four others which I thankfully cannot recall at this time?


The woman isn't actually calle Cascada, and there are at least two dj's who make up this trio of the damned, but I don't care because she has terrible extensions that make her look like she has a long haired terrier trapped under her Bruce Willis jaw and I am a deeply shallow person. Who hates alcopop dance music. (except Perfect Exceeder which is a TUNE)

Pearls of Wisdom

When travelling on the London Underground, do not apply lip gloss immediately before descending the escalator, or anywhere else en route. The wind will blow and you will be left with the dead skin cells of thousands of people stuck all over your lips. Urrg and probably some particles of poo, vom and Maccy D's too...

Tuesday, 10 April 2007

LDN is a Victim

I'm sure you've probably all heard of this song, which parodies the whole London mockney scene (if not you can hear it HERE)

I'm a bit in two minds about it. On one hand, it's good that someone has finally taken the piss out of the whole 'rich kids talking like chimneysweeps' thing, but on the other hand, I think it could have been done A LOT better.

I'm also a bit down on their criticising music through the medium of social class because quite a lot of the London acts they parody are actually really good musically, and in this day and age, who cares if they are middle class? (beyond the mockney accents which I admit are rather gratingly unnecessary)

I think it would have been better to take the mic out of everyone's love elitism and dressing up in neon in that way which would be terribly origional if everyone didn't look pretty much the same and exactly like the cast of Skins.

I mean, they didn't even mention Dirtydirtydancing, Antisocial et al, !Wowow! Old Street or cocaine, and that's pretty much the crux of this these days isn't it?

On the third hand (?) the Nathan Barley quote at the end of the song totally sums it up:
'Stupid people think it's cool. Smart people think it's a joke: also cool.'

Natasha Bedingfield = Loon

I find Natasha Bedingfield a bit like a jewellery stall at Spitalfields Market - on the outset she seems all fun and sparkly; nice blonde lady singing catchy pop hits that do incredibly well in America etc, but when you actually look at her it's all rubbish tat which is overpriced and breaks after one wear (okay, similie slightly fell apart there..much like my earrings from said market!)

Firstly there is the fact she has large rolling eyes, horse teeth and is a mad Christian who spent her formative years banging a tambourine next to her equally mad Christian brother Daniel as they sang gospel to pissed off latchkey kids in council estates. Whilst I can't really claim to dislike her for this reason (she can't help her face and I'm sure the parents were behind the patronising of disatisfied youth) it does make me a little less enamoured of her...but mainly because I am a fascist atheist who will be smoted and brimstoned and whatever come the day of judgement. My bad.

Secondly, there is the way she has fantastic pop songs marred by the lyrics which appeal to the lowest common denominator of thick braying females, never destined to widen the gene pool because they are too neurotic. Observe:

First single: Single. 'I'm single woooah right now, that's how I wanna be'
So far so Pink, this is quite a fun song to sing in your bedroom when you are getting ready to go out, although never to be sung aloud to outside of said walls, because it is much like singing along to 'You and Your Hand' by Pink; all men will run miles away from you as you angrily stomp around like a bacardi breezer fuelled man-hating dinosaur. You will then wonder why no one is hitting on you and go home and cry to 'All By Myself' just like Bridget Jones taught you.
On a personal level it annoys me because I don't mind being single but do mind being cast into the same catagory as said militant delusionists; I am happy single, but would probably be equally happy not single. No need for an anthem.
Surely the point of being an independant woman is that you don't need to go around shouting at men how you are SINGLE WOOOAH every two seconds because it is evident and accepted and fine.

Second single: These Words. 'From my heart flows IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou!!!!!'
A bit of a change of direction for Ms B, she has gone from Pink-lite to sounding as terribly insecure and needy as most people who sing 'Single' really are. It also sounds a bit like having a seizure in Clinton Cards.

Third single: Unwritten
'Drench yourself in words unspoken, live your life with arms wide open , today is where your book begins, the rest is still unwritten'
It might be just me, but this conjours up the image of Ms B standing in Clinton Cards (again), eyes closed in rapture and arms wide open, serenely pissing herself all over the 'Congratualtions on your Exam Results' card section.
In any case, it's rather annoying as I do quite like the sound of this song, but the godawful gospel-lite claptrap lyrics make me feel a little bit dirty, half through the thought of Natasha wetting herself and half because they are far too Oprah for my delicately cynical sensibilites. They have now predictably used this song in a shampoo advert, presumerbly because washing your hair is EMPOWERING and INSPIRATIONAL not just something you do to stop you STINKING of last nights fags and looking like a DECOMPOSING POTPLANT.

Fourth Single: I Bruise Easily.
' I bruise easily, so be gentle when you handle me, there's a mark you leave, like a love heart carved on a tree'
I can sympathise with Natasha here, as I too do bruise easily, but fortunately I have the presence of mind to not go out with people who carve hearts and 'R.G 4 E.B 4 EVAH TRU'. into me.*

*Well, once, but it was only a short alliance and I was only left with 'SPURS F.C carved into my left hip and a rope swing hanging off one shoulder.

Fith Single: I Wanna Have Your Babies'
Well actually I haven't heard it enough to quote but My God! No wonder the girl is single! I mean, I am not an expert by any means, but either singing about how men can bugger off, how you lovelovelovelovelove them, sprouting a load of gospel-bobbins, comparing yourself to a tree or saying you want their babies is not exactly the techniques the Sex and the City girls would use. Or any sentient being come to that.
'I want your babies'? God I don't think I would say that to my husband of ten years if I had one for fear of being immediately stared at, edged away from, divorced, buried up to my neck in sand and pelted with stones by my entire shamed family.... unless he had a packet of jelly babies, which could in fact be what the song is about for all I know.

In Conclusion: Don't listen to Natasha Bedingfield outside the privacy of your own bedroom, never listen to the lyrics and DO NOT follow her dating advice.

Friday, 6 April 2007

Person of the Day - Mr Bananagrabber

"I guess it would just be a guy who, you know, grabs bananas and runs. Or a banana that grabs things. I don't know. Why would a banana grab another banana? I mean those are the kind of questions I don't want to answer."

Sometimes You Just KNOW...

If I was this darling child's mother I would buy him a subscription to Vogue toot sweet...that's what Karl Largerfeld's mother did for him when he was eight and look how he turned out! (ok, rather scary looking, but very succesful and rich and from that I am shallowly guessing happy) I think that would be the most lucrative industry for someone of his pursuasion - well, certainly better paid than a backing dancer for Beyonce, who by the time he is old enough will be about forty herself; no doubt still shaking like paint mixer, albeit a large wobbly one that sheds bits of weave, the odd tooth and false eyelash as she 'dances'.

No, I definitely would not want my child to be a backing dancer for Beyonce, he would be crippled by the age of twenty five and then he would move back home again and I would be like 'goddamn Mani, could you at least do the washing up? I support you all your life and what do I get in return? Stall tickets to a Beyonce concert and a load of pubes in the shower. It isn't good enough. Why can't you be a successful fashion designer like your co-incidentally also gay brother? He's at Dior now, and sends me freebies all the time! I don't care if your lower back is shot - those dishes aren't doing themselves!'

p.s Why we are on the topic of man love; just watched Eddie Murphy: Raw and it sent my usually accurate gaydar into overdrive..I think he must be a bit of a Robbie Williams as the large amounts of children he has sired suggests not a total aversion to womanly pleasures; although I think we can discount Scary Spice as she is
a)not particularly straight herself and
b)looks like a tranny.
(Called their child Fortuna btw...makes me just think of tuna, in particular the smell of tuna, but that might just me and my lack of imagination when it comes to word association)

Thursday, 5 April 2007

Kiwi Tears My Heart Apart

I'm sure most people will have already seen this animation of the kiwi bird, which was recently voted 'cutest thing on youtube'.
I personally would vote it 'most heartwrenchingly tragic thing on youtube', but then it appears people's opinions differ wildy, as I will outline below.

The Biche: "Oh GOD. I think I just died a little inside. What cute pathos is this? Oh woe, life is so short and cruel."

The Flatmate: after being dragged away from her breakfast to watch the thing by a wobbily lipped Biche
"So is a Kiwi a real bird then? Right. You didn't say it was an animation. Ah. Cup of tea?"

The Brother: in faux camp accent
"Oh, it is SO cute. Look at his little face."

The Benjamin: online, but clearly shellshocked
"That's quite upsetting. Pretty damn cute, if very upsetting."
then, when he is told he is being quoted:
"how about this...."
nothing appears
"no, use the last thing"
"I'm trying to be funny but it's just not happening."

So there. Now I must go mend my broked heart with chocolate.

People of the Day - Released British Fitties

..except for the woman who looks like Jessica Stevenson. And the guy next to her who looks like Uncle Fester.

Update: It appears it wasn't quite as pleasant as the Iranians made out. Oh well, all is well now and it is a good excuse to post a photo of Lutenant Carman, whose pleasant nature and good looks had me phwoooaring at the tv this evening, in a terribly uncooth and Christy-like manner. I have to admit, I did fall short of putting on a mockney accent and stamping the floor like Bugs Bunny however.

Wednesday, 4 April 2007

The Drama of Everyday Life

Kudos to Hemen for this... Weird Al Yankovitch's parody of 'Trapped in the Closet' by R Kelly.


Monday, 2 April 2007

Subject Line of Email I Just Recieved...

' recommends Serial Killers: The Methods and Madness of Monsters and more'

Oh whoop-de-do!, one random purchase four years ago and they now have me down as a psycho nut! I must have bought at least ten Shakespeare study guides and studies of Postcolonial discourse off Amazon since then, but noooo! I'm a loony lover!

(in case you were curious, the 'more' was in fact a load of Shakespeare, Kitsune Maison Vol 3, Startling the Flying Fish and Ed Rec Vol 2...I also appear to be erroniously down as a lover of obscure compilation CDs)

Thank god I order the hundred of books on self improvement, faddy diets and ubertrash fiction* on the flatmate's account!

*one book on the G.I diet which I followed for about a week a year ago. What a waste of time. I think it's now levelling a wonky wardrobe far away from my illustrious bookcase.

Incidentally - Apple Cider Vinegar update? Had an old bottle which merely resulted in a rather flatulent night for the flatmate and I, no further effects noticed, apart from my increased ability to swallow ikky tasting fluids, which someone less uptight and reserved than myself might openly consider a bonus.

Old Folks, eh?

The Beeb, for some reason best known to themselves, have got a load of old people together and made them all sing 'My Generation' by the Who.
It's for Charidee, so I will restrain myself from commenting on how I find the whole thing slightly patronising and how Channel 4 already did a documentary about a load of oldies singing pop songs which may or may not be the same group.

Best of all, they have a myspace which is HERE

I heartily recommendhaving a look-see, as you can watch the rather wonderful if far far too long video that accompanies the song, and wonder how the hell young folk will gently take the piss out of you when you get to be old. I predict they will make us take pills and dance to Funky House as they watch in glee from their temperature controlled air filtrated pods, only breaking away from drinking purified water to lob the excavated archeological remains of Becks bottles at us until our hips all break and we are merely shuddering piles of skin on the greasy floor.

Just a thought.

Aah Nostalgia..

Remember this? I remember near peeing myself with laughter watching it back in t' day, sitting as I was in my old house with my near non existent eyebrows and Dido styled hair. Actually, the 'yodel of life' bit is still smile-making material so stick with it, sigh, shake your head and hark back to a simpler time..a time before 0.1% fat margarine, I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here and David Cameron. A time when rave music was sad losers trying to recapture their youth. When Jamie Oliver merely pissed around on a scooter and didn't smack turkey twizzlers from the sticky little fists of fat children. When 'all your base are belong to us' was still a cool thing to say and jeans were so voluminous you could carry an unfolded magazine around in a leg pocket.
Aah, I remember...

Oh, and it features Pee Wee, which is never ever bad.

Important Issues Affecting the World Today

* Is it wrong to want the British sailors in Iran to be released, not for any huge political reason, but because at least one of them is quite fit? (in a young-ish kind of way)

*Why has no one ever suggested soup as a viable breakfast option? It is filling, nutricious, speeds up the metabolism, is an extra vegtable a day and
would also mean the flatmate would stop giving me weird looks at I enjoy my bowl of carrot and lentils infront of Jeremy Kyle.

*When did Jeremy Kyle turn into such a cunt? I remember when he first came on tv a year or so ago we really liked his refreshing honesty and the way he cut alcoholic abusive husbands down to size. Now he shouts at EVERYONE, which is especially jarring when he picks on 16 year old crackheads with four children who were abused as children and beaten up by their boyfriends. I can think of nicer ways to say 'YOU KNOW WHAT DARLING? YOU MAKE ME SICK. GET OFF YOUR ARSE AND GET A JOB YOU SCROUNGING WHORE'. Actually no, I can't, but I don't get off on making disadvantaged little girls feel like pieces of shit, so what do I know?

Then what happens is that the mong audience appluase like mad and they bring out the girl's three toothed one eyed boyfriend to call her a bad parent and demand a lie detector test. Ug. Ug. Ug.

* What has happened to fashion? Topshop is currently full of floral sacks, Primark has gone back to its pastel sportswear roots and Hennes is mass market new rave shit for teenagers downstairs (i.e incredibly individual clothes, but worn by every mong who derives fun from hanging around bus stops with cans of red stripe on a saturday night, which totally defeats the point) and boring houmous coloured work clothes upstairs.
What is a girl to do? I would make my own clothes except I fear I would end up with new rave sacks; a terrible compromise.