'OMG look at her SHOES!!!11!1!!!!'

Who would have thought that Kristin Davis would be the best thing about any film, let alone the SATC? Her comic mugging was about the only redeeming feature in this predictable cheesefest of an extended advert.

I did like SATC on tv, I went to the cinema with my brain firmly switched to standby and my cynicism (oooh! I'm SUCH a Miranda) tucked away safely in my back pocket, but even then it would take a very simple woman indeed to be moved by this souless schtick.

SATC had genuinely moving episodes, you felt for the characters, they seemed real. On the big screen it is not just their fabulous wardrobes which are larger than life...they have all become such parodies of themselves, we feel nothing for them. At one point when Carrie is emotionally devistated (no, not saying why) and slowly takes off her sunglasses for the first time to see her sorrowful reflection in the mirror, a member of the audience with cynical volume muttered 'wow.' There was a pause and the whole cinema errupted into laughter.

Oh god and don't get me started on Jennifer Hudson, a woman apparently only cast for her ability to bring some good ole token sass to proceedings. I mean, she can act most of the others off the screen, but given that her dialogue mainly consists of 'uuuh huh girlfriend', and hideously twee one liners, they might as well have saved themselves the money and brought in some bit character from Keenan and Kel. I mean honestly, who says 'I came to New York to find love'? Emotional men. Lesbians. Not smart women in a town where they outnumber men 2:1.

But yeah, the clothes are fabulous, the shoes are fabulous, the locations are fabulous... but then they always were. But the series had more, it had (a rather ditzy, materialistic, bittersweet) soul.

In summary: The SATC Movie.. it's like meeting up with your old best friend from school and finding out you have absolutely nothing in common. But that they do have nice shoes.

Edit: The best review of the film I have read, on Jezebel.com, a site any woman with a semblance of a brain should waste some of her daily time on.

The Official SOB Guide to... Scones.

Scons, scowns, scooons, for some reason (probably because I'm consciously trying to get fit for a beach holiday so the bitch in me is subconsciously ruining all my efforts) has been consuming loads of them of late. Cream teas to be precise, and for those of you who aren't middle aged or massive losers like moi, a 'cream tea' consists of scones served with clotted cream and jam. Oh, and tea. But mainly cream.
In order to turn this losery negative into a hip ironic positive, here is the official SOB guide to Cream Teas

John Lewis - setting the standard for teas what are creamy, this was a perfectly nice scone, with a perfectly nice amount of cream and jam. The only downside were the cups, those little squat inflight meal ones you can barely fit a finger through the handle of, which made me feel like a big obese giant who should be eating air and carrots, not creamy buttery biscuitcakes.

Kew Gardens - massive scone the size of a child's head. A bit stale as it had been left out all day, but quite good value for money if you are after a full stomach and an excuse not to poo for two days. Normally okay amounts of cream and jam were just not adequate on this floury beast.

Liberty's - two warm scones with a delicious buttery texture eventually rolled up about half an hour after the tea. Marks subtracted for lateness, the frankly ludicrous £10.75 price tag and the fact that had I not nicked someone else's cream I would have gone wanting. *cough* greedy mare *cough*

The Frances Hotel, Bath - £7 odd quid for one average sized scone and an unrequested bit of lemon drizzle cake. The cream was plentiful, but not a clotted as in some places. One pot between five also lead to a secret battle of wills and nerves, of hearts and minds, of greed and stomachs. It would be fair to say R and I won that one. Marks added for the lemon cake and swiftly deducted again, as I felt compelled to eat the soggy citrussy bugger to get my money's worth.

Hopefully not to be continued...

The Narcasstic Praise Hounds of Love are Calling

This is a rather long INFURIATING report about 'Millenials' or work shy young shits like my good self (and you if you were born between 1980 and 1995). I defy you not to throw your iphone through the lcd screen of your laptop after watching about five minutes of this utter claptrap.
Yeah times have changed Grandpa, young people no longer want to wear suits and trilbys or 'punch a timecard'. If you keep slapping your secretary on the arse, chances are she will quit and sue you, not giggle and fetch you another martini.
The point about more young people living at home is also a bit rich, as had the 'Babyboomers' not fucked up the US banks and stock market, then more Millenials could afford to move out and not live with their darling parents who have apparently raised them too well, being that we weren't all shoved down coal mines at 14, constantly critisized and told to work all the hours God sends.

Then again, maybe it's not just a biased ill researched piece of utter trash masquerading as news. Perhaps it is reverse psychology to stir us - admittedly more apathetic - young folk into action. Don't know about you, but I sure as hell want to go out and beat some 'Boomers right now.

For the Bain Marie of my Life

You might remember my earlier post, about the frankly fantastic Doreen personalised tea coaster I found in Weston Super Mare.

Well, as I found out at Longleat Safari Park, it is not just Doreens the world over who have been faintly insulted via the medium of small bits of cork you put on the table to stop stains. Observe:

This range of coasters truly are designed for passive agressive husbands to bring back for their wives after a stolen weekend with the secretary in some seedy location.

Possible future gems:

Maud from the Italian meaning 'ugly'. She is nice and cheerful. She is friendly and fun.

June from the Sanskrit for 'frigid'. She is proper and just. She is a good mother.

Eileen from the Norse meaning 'stupid twat'. She is lovely and forgiving. And makes nice food.

Madge Vadge!

From Racked.com, this poor Warner Bros prole turned up to her office one morning to discover she now works in one of the most overexposed, hard working Vajayays in pop.

And it also happens to be an incredibly tenuous excuse for me to post this clip of the Day Today (see last 2 seconds of clip)

(rather hefty) Eurovision Blog 2008!

8.00 - 'You know Sex and the City is on at ten' says R. I hope this does not set the tone for the evening.

'...FOUR episodes back to back!'

Even worse, I have forgotten my glasses so will have to rely slightly on R to work out what the hell is going on.

8.01 - A 'Harry Potter gone wrong' lesbian [edit: kudos to Ginger for that one] and another dressed in loo roll kick off the show. Some very impressively dressed dancers placicate R and she skips off to get wine, admitting that 'it is a bit shit to sit watching Eurovision drinking tea'

ROMANIA - The black, the white and the dull. 'It's like Celene Dion and Peeboo Bryson' says R in a cultural reference that leaves me stumped. Even a key change can't change this emotive mess.

UK - Oh wow it's like D Reem or.... 'Hot Chocolate' never happened. I point out that R is only saying this because both Andy and Errol are somewhat of a type. Well anyway, it's very mid 90's disco, from the music to the stage, which looks like the woman from Deelite's dress. Go Andy!

ALBANIA - Another ballad is leaving us somewhat stumped. Where are the dancing smurfs, fake blood and funkysexydiscobeats? I try and blag to R that I knew all along that Belgrade is a city in Serbia and not a country in it's own right.

GERMANY - They have ripped the beat from What You Waiting For? by Gwen Stefani, but frankly it's not a ballad so I am inclined to be forgiving. The four girls also look like trannies wrapped in curtains which is slightly amusing.

8.24 - Terry is wittering on like a man who hit the Baileys at about 4pm. Can you get drunk on Baileys? Discuss.

ARMENIA - I once used to fancy someone from Armenia. True story. The Armenian entry is a sophisticated mix of lyrical mastery and musical complexity. Not true story. 'Instead of wanting me, you should be reaching me, come on Kelle, Kelle, Kelle' (repeat 10x) and some pan pipes if we insist on being factual.

BOSNIA - This is more like it! Four brides, two grown people dressed as children and washing line of knickers as a prop. Mental song but we get distracted as I realise the childwoman looks a leeetle bit like my flatmate and then R asks me why Bosnia is called BosniaandHerzogovina and I don't have a clue even though my Dad worked in foreign news and spent six months in Bosnia back when shiz was going down.

Oh bugger, it appears I have missed some gems from the Englishly challenged host while musing on the past. 'Belgrade is captial of world tonite!' is the gist of it

ISRAEL - It sounds very...Israeli. I thought Dana International wrote this, so am expecting some sort of kitschness but it's just ballad so far. Ooh a troupe of street gays have tromped on stage. Oh, but only to sing back up. And to do some lame hopping on the spot. Huh.

Terry Wogan tells us to press the red button for some reason and R willingly obliges. The screen goes blue and I shriek.

FINLAND - Never one to give up a winning formula, Pantera-lite have taken to the stage. HOOO HAAA! (the chorus I think) R comments that all rock men have really crap long hair: 'I mean, if you're going to have long tresses at least get some Frizz Eze'. It's pretty loud and epic, but we are distracted by the cat chasing its tail out on the patio.

CROATIA - Here come the Men in Hats/Middle aged fat benders/Here come the Men in Hats/They won't let you remember. And I thought I would never be able to describe Croatians through the medium of a Will Smith parody. This is a proud day for me. For some inexplicable reason R declares this her favourite.

POLAND - The Polish entry looks like Aishlyne from Big Brother crossed with an easter egg. 'She's singing in English but I still don't know what she's saying' R comes out with one of the most common comments on Eurovision. 'It raises your pocket' 'You found my heart and I'm milking a swollen kite' is what I make out.

ICELAND - Techno techno techno! Iceland also sticks with its not quite so winning formula of gay trance. 'THIS IS MY LIFE!' Oh god it's absolutely brilliant, it's been on for thirty seconds and we can already sing along. Even the cat swinging from the patio umbrella cannot distract from this superpop euro anthem. I imagine it will get quite high votes from the UK.

TURKEY - They have instuments so are working on a slight Finland flex, but are more like Placebo, if Placebo sang in Turkish and had a lead singer that resembled Sylar from Heroes. It's passionate songs like this that almost wish I knew what on earth they were banging on about.

PORTUGAL - R is loving Terry Wogan, aside from red button bidding she just chuckled aloud at his quip about the - shall we say rotund? - Portugese entry. I'm finding he's a bit rambly this year but eh, I haven't had as much wine as R yet.

Oh, the Portugese entry is blah.

LATVIA - Pirates! Techno beats! People who don't seem to quite know the English lyrics they are singing. Actually most of this song goes 'Hi hi ho hi hi hey, we're hoisting the flag to be free....' so I guess it doesn't really matter. 'Does Latvia even have a coastline?' R quibbles, but then joins in merrily with the chorus.

SWEDEN - 'I think she's a drag queen' 'nah she sounds female' 'no look at her leg muscles. Women don't have legs like that.... oh wait, maybe she is female' This is the inane conversation that accompanies this rather inane song which is apparently a favourite. She does look hella creepy in the facial area, that much is true.

9.10 - Oh god now I actually chuckled at Wogan. No, I snorted, even worse. R is trilling 'All Night Long' by Lionel Richie. It would appear the wine has gone headwards.

DENMARK - Denmark entry thinks he's quite cool, and actually, with his flatcap, braces and funky tattoo, I guess he is a bit more 'street' that some, but he's still singing 'if you life like a sad song maybe, you should try to celebrate it/ All night long!'

R astutely points out the whole song is a mix of Lionel and that 'Celebrate good times c'mon! ' 70's funk hell of a track. So not cool in the slightest.

GEORGIA - This woman had better be blind as there is no excuse for wearing Jewish Mum sunglasses onstage. Mind you, broken corneas would explain her 'portly edward scissorhands' outfit.

9.16 - R has tottered off to make noodles and even I am getting a tad bored and wonder how many more there are to come. There had better be some crazy shit going down next.

UKRAINE - It's pretty good, but another case of foxy sequinned lady flanked by dancing men in black make it a bit forgettable dispite the good hook. She sings about her heart being 'burning' though, which makes me think of Rennies.

9.26 - The Eurovision trophy looks like a glass sweetcorn cob.

FRANCE - Sebastian Teller. I've heard of him! All the backing singers have beards and it has an amazing 70's aesthetic which... ' looks a bit cool for Eurovision' R neatly sums it up as she potters back in with her noodles.

AZERBAIJAHN - 'NOT in Europe!' shrieks R and I have taken a dislike as I have no idea how to spell Azerbi...etc. Oh, but they do have a castrato angel and some madass Goths, so very much Fit In. Huh the goth has now done a superfast costume change and is now an angel too. 'You like this?' R is incredulous. '..he sings very high' is my lame justification, but I fear they may have my vote.

GREECE - It follows the formula as the Ukraine. But not as good. 'Why do people think that is a sexy dance?' asks R, in the face of multiple pelvic spasms.

SPAIN - The irony that has finally spread through France has not quite reached Spain it would seem...it's reasonably funny and has robot dancing, a plastic guitar and the words 'cheeki cheeki'. Maybe it's just too late in the show. An hour ago I would have been all over this shit. People are booing though! That's a bit harsh. It kicked Greece's sorry thrusting arse.

SERBIA - boring.

RUSSIA - 'I be standing straw like a tree of wee' Oh dear, working out the lyrics never gets old. Neither does dressing in white, wearing bead chokers and clenching your fists apparently. Oh but the man who looks like a bank manager enterprative dancing/twatting around like a flailing idiot raises the game. And the fit fist clencher just tore his shirt off, which is nice.

NORWAY - FINAL SONG! Oh good o, I am a bit hungry. Hope this post isn't too long and rambling. I'll add in pics and edit and stuff when I get back to work on Tues. 'You might be saying ooooh! I don't wanna be lonely' trills the Norwegian Mariah Carey. 'Yes.' says R with suprising sincereity.

Right, time for a break. Oh no, they've brought on 'Serbian Basketball Legend' Vlad Devotch. Now break.

UPDATE: So Russia won, the UK did pretty crap and now everyone will hark on about political voting, eastern europe blah blah blah. Snore. Maybe if the UK actually entered something we do comparatively well - like R&B pop - and didn't just do either anthems or kitsch, and maybe if anyone in the UK gave two shits about Eurovision BEFORE the results were in, then we would do well.

Announcement: Blogging Eurovision 2008

The laughter, the tears, the smurfs: yup, that's right! Following on from my vaguely popular liveblogs of the Brit Awards, tomorrow evening I shall be blogging Eurovision*! Admittedly not all of it, one condition for me having company whilst doing so is that we don't have to watch the intermniable scoring, but for the performances themselves I shall be on the frontline, valiantly watching 40 odd songs about 'sexi babi's and 'luff eternal' so you don't have to! But you should anyway because it's bloody brilliant....


..occasionally literally.


*Not totally 'live' it has to be said. Tune in from about 11pm to see my report on the whole glorious shebang

Korea Koolness

Remember when I previously blogged about these people who had turned kids doodles into real professional cartoons?

Well Korea (yes the WHOLE country) has gone one better and turned kids drawings into real life. Supacool! (click pix to see bigger)

Biche's Book of the Day

.. no, not really. When I stumbled across this I had to pick mine to remember who Lesley Brain was. Thank god for Amazon and their insightful balanced reviewers:

"This is an account of Lesley's time in the Big Brother house last summer and the road that took her there. (Lesley is the grandmother and WI member who calmed down with a strawberry.)
There are lots of laugh-out-loud momentsbut also some sharp insights into the BB experience, including the audition process and what it was like to live with the other contestants (who can forget Ziggy, Chanelle, or Charley?).
Throughout, Lesley draws parallels with the original world of Big Brother in Orwell's "1984". My only complaint is that the 168 pages seemed to fly by, which left this reader wanting a little more. However, the stories are very well told and hopefully we will see a lot more from Lesley in future. Overall, a must read for fans of the show, and plenty for others to enjoy too. "

Well thank YOU, Claire Horton from Surrey. And here I was thinking it was a shameless cash-in from a Big Brother quitter, hypocritically criticising all the other fame hungry wannabees who dared to stick to their guns. And what is she doing on the front cover? Joyfully shelling a pistachio? Reading the smallest joke book in the world? Tearing a tiny person limb from limb in glee?

Much as I like to get on my high horse and ride around dusty Amazon planes, herding reviwers and shouting YEEHAH (oh and I DO) my bookcase is not entirely worthy and Big Brother free...

Look right, my mum had just popped into Waterstones to use the loo and he was there doing a signing and no one was there and she felt sorry for him, yeah?*

But yes, that does mean I not only own a copy but a SIGNED copy.
Why I should just retire now, I'm made.

Edit: I love how it looks like Nick is looking up at Lesley going 'mmm maybe she will drop the pistachio shell my way so I can suck it for sustinence'

*trufax

Indulge Me...

Massive geek that I am, I have been attending a night class in Creative Writing. Whilst things have not gone quite as hoped (that everyone would fall to their knees and proclaim me one of the greatest undiscovered writers of the 21st Century), the teacher is nice, and it's not ALL middle aged women. That said, regardless of age most of them are complete dullards - albeit accomplished ones who seem to have unending ways to describe clouds and skies and trees and shit* . It is good to have an ego kicking reminder that I am utterly crap at spelling and grammar - lord know I forget, being my own editor, publisher and worst enemy - but the public lesson infront of the Weatherfolk is a bit galling.

For example, it took me two days to write the below poem. And, after reading it out to a class of twenty odd people, about a minute to realise that I have a very weak grasp on the concept of syllables.

The Demise of Commerce (and abuse of 9 syllable lines)
by Biche.

Dusty glued plants in a strip lit mall
Scents thick and sweet creep from the Food Hall
Smooth blue cream towers of china rise
Flapping scarlet sale signs sieze the eyes
Shop owners haggle, scowling, degraded
Carved dragons loom large, claws chipped and faded
Gold plastic glints, yet bright in the gloom
But darkness and still come first of June
Oriental City turns into a tomb.

Quite.

*not literally shit

All Types of Amazing

spotted in Weston Super Mare

Colindale - A Photo Essay.

As Oriental City is closing it's doors for good on 1st June 2008, R, the Bruv and I decided to make one last pilgimage to the citadel of all that is cheap and tacky and Chinese. Unfortunately due to a mix up we didn't have a car, so had to journey on public transport. This neccesitated a short walk through Colindale, a place so bleak I was moved to take a lot of photos on my phone, then faff around town for ages today trying to find a cable so I could share them all with you, dear reader.
The waiting room for the local cab office...

In fact, alfresco seating is very much derigur in Colindale it would seem.

This house has ideas above it's station. Colindalia? Nope, sorry love, you still live in an area which sounds like something you wash peas in.

Still, they have their pride in these parts. Don't want no foreign bins coming over here, nicking our rubbish... (kudos to the Bruv for that one)

The window of a long closed Bookies. I like how there is a bit of the base relief missing, like once someone lost a load of money and punched the wall in sheer RAGE. Colindale is kind of emotionless these days.

Yet another example of al fresco seating, this time outside Dixy Chicken. It's hard to show the true surrealist nature of this bench, but it was built either by someone with a Dali fixation or a spirit level that was out by about 45 degrees.

The sad fact is that when Oriental City closes, this will be Colindale's claim to fame. The Bruv was sent here after he trod on a dog in Thailand ('It was a black dog sleeping in the middle of a dark road. Really he was asking for it') It's proximity to Dixy Chicken is a bit worrying.

Obama says 'Happy Weekend Bitches'

I feels ya man...

In other news I am occasionally blogging, in heavily edited form (at least until I work out how to spell and use words of a non expletive variety) at http://www.themake.co.uk/. Check it yo, or Obama will cry.

Lucy Pinder Harry Potter Sex Adios Beijing Olympics iphone GTA4 etc

What compells people to visit SOB rather than the billions of other sites on the net? Why did YOU come here? According to Google Analytics, people came here after searching for

Slimatea - my accidental misspelling of 'Slimmertea' had rather depressingly brought nigh on 50 people to this site in the last year. Most stayed for less than a second, but given that the post in question involved a story about me and accidental laxative abuse, I'm not too sad.

Robyn Foster and Max Gogarty - Hmm proves that being topical and not talking about music videos from the early 90's does occasionally pay off.

Robert Worely Dorian Corey - literally no idea who they are. Guess I was drunk that day. Ah yes! Upon reflection that was the story about the Drag Queen from Paris is Burning. Check that out actually, tis quite interesting.

Lorne Spicer tits - a rare breed of bird saught out by 4 people over the last year.

Other searches:

* Horrific Painting * Mark Owen Wandsworth * Vegan Prawns * Cider Vinegar Penis * Speeches about Chicken * Vogueing Competitions * Bridget Jones "wetting herself" * "Only a tiny skirt" * "Pick My Fingers" * "Sushi Fingers" wet * Boss Eyes * Lolyoaks * Love Corruption*

Well that's me summed up then!

Who Needs Kievs?

I wasn't going to bother commenting on this, but then the editors obviously noticed and moved the two features apart on the homepage. Thankfully they kept true to Granuaid form and didn't correct the archive...

Americana, Bees, Chris Cornell

While noodling around the internet (trying to work out whether I had accidentally plagurized the bee baby from the header of my page in a t shirt design)I rediscovered Blind Melon. My Dad had the album and I clearly remember him likening me to the similarly aged Bee Girl. This was unintentionally hurtful, as although he thought she was hilarious and enchantingly cute, she was also quite obviously as similarly rotund and ungainly to his own little progeny.

Anyway, the video is below, but further than a little weight related nostalgic moment, it made me pine for early 90's americana in general. It was around that time that I first discovered music, and MTV, thanks to visiting my Dad's work and raiding his CD's (new format sent him a little bonkers, hence all the popular hits of the day) and I remember thinking that music videos were possibly the coolest things ever.



Things were simpler back then, people smiled, there were no stylists (it would seem), the colours were brighter and it was fine to dance around like complete idiots, as aptly demonstrated by REM:



Barring the fact that such videos mean there are photos of me in existence where I am wearing John Lennon sunglasses and a backwards flatcap, I think it's a shame that things inevitably progressed as they have. These days (and I am aware that I sound about fifty right now) music videos are unbiquitous and for the most part, identikit. Most involve dead eyed models in thongs gyrating around in some conveluted choreography or acting like pieces of meat over a disco beat. No wonder little girls are growing up fast and getting complexes about their appearance! Even the Bee Girl, my own little eight year old doppleganger, finds happiness at the end of 4 minutes and 50 seconds, in a wonderful garden where people accept her for who she is. How many happy fat girls do you see in music videos these days?

Anyway, I couldn't finish this post without embedding the video that kind of sums up my whole MTV worship era. Moody dudes on a hillside, the most advanced camera trickery of the day, wind machines and warped-yet-slightly cliche imagery to stimulate impressionable young minds. Utterly creepy and fantastic.



Even though this vid (along with the dancing chicken in the Peter Gabriel video) totally scared the shit out of me out at the time, I'd let my daughter watch them over Pussycat Dolls any day of the week.

Alfred Hitchcock Was Onto Something...

... following on from Sunday's post it appears my fears were not ill founded.

London Lite 12th May 2008

'a pelican gives a friendly welcome'?? I think you will find he is hanging out with his crew on a park bench, probably menacing passersby with squalks, mock fights and annoying ringtones. This newspaper clipping last night confirms my wost fears that the ASBO Pelicans have indeed invaded and are now causing mild peril up and down the land.

Should I be found dead in a mangled feathery heap tomorrow, I suggest you check their mobiles, as they will have doubtlessly taken me out in a happy wing slapping incident.

Marauding Young Seabirds

See items 2 and 4 from the BBC's top news stories. Either it is a very slow day or the pelicans have finally hit puberty and have started to hang around in gangs, causing trouble. Why by tomorrow they might be throwing chips at Grannies down the arcade..

Edit: They are now the top two items of news! The Burmese Government and the murderer of that 16 year old boy WILL be happy..

Indiana Jones and the Temple of Hmmmmm

Childhood film nostalgia is a funny thing. I'm currently sitting here with my brother, watching Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, one of our all time favorite films from the days of yore. We both remembered exactly what would happen when: 'Oh yeah then they go off the cliff in a dinghy' 'He drives because he has boxes stuck to his shoes' etc, what we both didn't realise is *ahem* quite how racist it is..

Now I know Indian cuisine is a tad different to chips and peas, but monkey brains, beetles and snakes? What region is that from? And who knew Indians in turbans (Sikhs?) who worship Shiva (Hindus?) also spend their time sacrificing humans by tearing out their still beating hearts?

Then again maybe we're just being unduly sensitive and PC because our uncle is Indian, and although he covers everything in chilli sauce and is want to make horrible phlegmy noises in the bathroom, I have yet to see him drink from a skull or attempt to extract my brother's still beating heart when he forgets to flush the loo.

It is still a great action film though, brain and social consciense set far aside... much better than the Goonies, which everyone else in the world ever watched as a bairn, but is curiously absent from my and my brother's collective memory. Either some awful psychological event happened to us that afternoon, or our parents had the taste to not expose us to a load of shrieking yank brats looking for treasure. Hmmm that said, it's kind of hard to take a moral high ground when we gobbled up images of colonial India which would make Salman Rushdie, Anita Desai etc's heads spin. Although Harrison Ford was very fit back then and there is only one shrieking stereotyped child...

Edit: My brother would like to make it clear that he has never forgotten to flush the toilet ever. Even though hardly anyone who reads this blog knows who he is, and a quick straw poll of those who do suggests that even though he never forgets to flush the loo, he certainly looks like someone who might. Conclusion: Brother of Biche needs to stop lacing his trainers with string and buy a jacket that doesn't have 'anti capitalista' glued to the back with PVA glue.

Dragonball Squee

Why yes, your eyes do not deceive you, it is indeed a statue of an ejeculating Manga boy, looking eerily like something out of Dragonball Z if the programme included the cumshots that go with the characters dubious 'gnerrrrrrrrrrrr!' 'urrrrrrhg!' noises they spend half each episode making.

Is it art? Is it one of those things you can buy in Akihabra for about £3? Is it every parent's worst nightmare?

These are all vaguely relevant questions. But more to the point, how much would you pay for it?









How about £2,000,000?

No Joke or a Lie

RAMBOOOOOOOOOO

Interesting fact: Steven Berkoff only took the role in Rambo II because when his agent told him about it over the phone he misheard and thought it was a biography of the 19th Century poet.

Crap Graffitti 4 Evah

I do love it, it's so pathetically British it makes me proud.

Holy Screensplits Batman!

Ooh I've been looking for an excuse to post something about the new Batman film for a while now... they have been doing some amazing viral work for it, which is hugely elaborate and most pointless as the film is clearly going to be huger than huge and would have been before poor Heath popped it anyway...

But I digress, the official trailer for the Dark Knight came out late last week, but after only about 24 hours the obsessive viral addicts already noticed that it seemed slightly familiar... them clever marketing people have done it again!

The film above splits the screen between the new trailer and the original 1989 Batman trailer. Observe. Genius.

Amusing Headlines

Giant Bee Attacks Three - my brother told me this 1.25 inch terror. I guess it is from some local Nottingham rag. If anyone now nicks this headline as a band name I WILL expect royalties.

Mile High Mandy got Randy on Brandy - my personal favorite, it was from the Sun when some woman shagged a stranger on a BA flight.

'118 Wife' to Run Marathon - This exclusive from the Hornsey Journal revealed that the wife of one of the men in the 118 advert was running the London Marathon. She confirmed that although he was supporting her, he was not going to turn up in costume to do so.

Between a Rock and a Beard Face - apparently the Sun's take on the Northern Rock Crisis, when Brandson was considering buying it.

Wham Bam Flash in the Pan - George Michael gets arrested for exposing his bits in a public loo

Chuck a Khan - Hugh Grant splits with Jemima Khan

A Short Grumble

I still live near my old primary school. Back in the dark days when I went there, our playground consisted of a large bit of empty tarmac, a bench and a small wall. I think one time we spent a full week jumping off the small wall and attempting to grab this one leaf off an overhead tree. Happy days.

Yesterday I went past the old place on the bus - dear god! It is a riot of colour and so full of adverture playground contraptions that you could barely run a meter before tripping over some stimulus or another! No wonder kids are hugely obese and have such weak imaginations that if you ask them to think about a pink elephant they will pause, look confused and then look up google image search on their mobile.

Well tsk, I say...if my kids go to a school like that, I am going to take them out twice a day and force them to run around an empty car park and make their own fun. Yeah they will be a bit eccentric, skinny, and prone to talking to themselves, but frankly I would rather have a Holden Caufield than a horrible cabbage for a child.

Chicken Nugget

The rather good Deceiver.com has many examples of why Peta are a load of idiotic hypocrits, but it's amusing to know that animal activists on this side of the pond are also susceptible to moments of brainlessness.

A family friend has an allotment. At this allotment, several plot holders clubbed together to buy some chickens, and being a load of middle class liberalistic enviromentals they endevoured to look after them in the most Jamie Oliverite fashion possible. However, in spite of all the organic grain, fresh water and clean hay, they still turn up one day to find out that someone has stolen the chickens and left a big 'Animal Liberation Front' banner in their place. Strangely enough, the suspicion falls on the one allotment owner who is a member of ALF and also happens to drive a white van like the one that was seen near the coop on the night in question.

It does make you wonder how exactly one 'liberates chickens' - being fat, slow and unable to fly very far, they are not exactly born surivors, particularly not in the Tiddles and Pusskin strewn enviroment of North London...

Oh, except that this is the kicker in this whole tale - these chickens technically were survivors, being that they had already been 'liberated' from a battery farm in the first place by the kind allotmenteers!

Idiots - 1, Chickens - 0