My First Dictionary

...is a brilliant little blog. It's greatness is it's simplicity, so rather than ramble on about it at length, here is a couple of extracts plus a link. www.myfirstdictionary.blogspot.com. DO IT


p.s the blogger who made this also has another blog called Musty Moments, which I have added to the ole HOT LINKZZZ and would recommend a gander at.

This is why you are fat.

A great, self explanatory website, with the best use of a full stop I have seen in a while.

On one hand, you will never want to consume bacon (in all it's many, many forms, from taco shell to mayonnaise flavouring) ever again, on the other it makes you question The Truth.
We're told that even minor things like M&S sandwiches and tiramisu are superbad for us, and yet people actually eat the things on this site and don't explode into Mr Creosotesque fireballs of lard, or simply drop dead of a coronary angina within a day.

Yeah, they are fatties though.

I bang the worst dudes

Well, not me. *cough* *shuffle*

This is a rather amusing-if-possibly fake website where women can upload pictures of their awful lays and basically explain to the world why it was a matter of the earth needing to swallow them up rather than moving, as such.

On one hand, it's a funny read. On the other you kind of think that if this was a website about women, then everyone would be up in arms. Poor men, no one stands up for them.

www.sorrymom.tumblr.com

"What fresh hell is this?"

...were apparently John Waters' words while making Cry Baby, which was beset by disaster after disaster, from torrential rain to one of the main actors, pornstar Traci Lords, being caught up in a massive scandal when it was revealed she had been underage for basically all her porn career.

Being fidgetty of nature I can't watch a film without simeoultaneously googling it, and one thing I was curious about was what Kim 'Hatchet Face' McGuire looked like without all her makeup. And then whether she was dead or not, as one of the only pictures of her on the net is from www.findadeath.com. (She aint, the guy who runs the site got a fan pic of her and anecdotally linked it into a different actor's obituary, unfortunately with the tag 'www.findadeath.com' stamped right across it, so has inadvertantly sparked off an urban myth that she has died. Well, I assume it is an urban myth, there is no other evidence of her death online)


As Hatchet Face in Cry Baby

With Johnny Depp back in t'day at some sort of premiere I would imagine

Screenshot from 'It Came From Baltimore' the bonus documentary on the DVD which could have saved me a lot of googling.

Other interesting point of note is that when Traci was facing arrest, to make her feel better, the cast and crew all admitted what they had been arrested for in the past. ("Grand Theft Auto!" "White Slavery!" and "Kidnapping! But not really I swear!" were apparently among them, which doesn't seem that comforting to be honest) The young and slightly naive Amy Locane, feeling left out because she hadn't ever been put in the clink, turns to Patti Hearst, (in a cameo role as Traci Lord's mother) and asks 'but you haven't ever been arrested, have you?'

Can I get a reeeewiiind?

I've just redone my old post on Paris is Burning.

I think you should read.

Life

It's pretty rare that I read an article that makes me go 'yeeah!' in a inspired fist pump of agreement usually only employed by sports fans and winners of minor rounds of reality shows. This one by Sam Leith in the Guardian today, and his thoughts on working in an open plan office made me do just that. The affection, the bitching, the community...

.. the sad fact that 'you have nothing to lose except your life'

*sigh*

This is my real desk btw. But a while ago, I have added to the gonks since then.

Wheres My Bees at?

This video is just brilliant - not only does it neatly tie in to an earlier post of mine where I wax (arf!) lyrical about the Blind Melon video featuring a Beegirl, but it highlights a very serious issue, namely that the bees of the world are mysteriously dying out. As someone who has been known to eat honey at every meal (on toast, in yoghurt, with brie in sandwiches, in tea yadda yadda) this concerns me, but as I also simply love saying 'bee', the prospect of never likening oneself to a 'squashed bee' or a 'bumbling old bee' or a 'dozy fat bee in a jar' is simply devistating.

The word 'bee' exudes fuzzy joviality and bumbling joy, it should not be associated with death and (some would have you believe) the destruction of the planet!

Abercrombie and Fuck You

When I heard that Abercrombie and Fitch had opened a store in London, I put it in the same 'huh' news catagory as 'the A1 past Hanger Lane is a bit sluggish today' and Jessica's status is '...' according to Facebook.

I vaguely knew A&F to be a Gap-ish like clothes shop in America that people seem to love, even though as far as I could work out it sold either bland as fuck clothes or highly branded bland as fuck clothes.

Yesterday however, I happened to be in the area, so decided to visit the London A&F store. Within two seconds of entering it shot up from being a thing I had sort-of-heard-of-kind-of to being my official Worst Shop in London and Possibly Ever. - a title snatched away from Halfords in Friern Barnet Retail Park with considerable aplomb.

Where to start? Oh, well as you enter, you can queue to have your photo taken with a shirtless male hunk and keep the polaroid to show all your friends back home. Why? So you can tell them you shagged him? So they can be impressed that you stood next to someone with a six pack? Because some of his fitness might rub off on you and make you look less like a fat tourist in a straining pair of chinos and sweat drenched 'I heart London t-shirt'? *shudder*

This isn't apparently just a random act of whoring: A&F is known for it's good looking staff and presumerbly being pimped out to hormonal girls is part of the job description. I did wonder about this alleged hiring policy, as it appeared to be very much in action in the London shop and surely smacks of discrimination if true. Is anyone who reads this really fat/hairy/muslim/tattooed/all of the above? Please apply and let me know how you get on.

Anyway, inside. You know what I hate more than bland as fuck branded clothing in a million different pastel colours? I hate being lost in dark crowded nightclubs while shit trance music thumps so loud I can't hear my own angry thoughts.
Random? No, no, no, THIS is Abercrombie and Fitch, London. Confusing, as A&F is what one is supposed to wear to a chase a labrador across a beach in the Hamptons with your wholesome looking boyfriend, so the Ministry of Sound get up is beyond infuriating.
They even have two of their Stepford employees dancing on a balcony as if to say 'Hey, this is really fun! I always like to rave it up in the middle of the day wearing stonewashed bootleg jeans and a cornflower blue vest top!'.

It's a wonder the staff get time to actually fold jeans in between being groped and pretending to be 'aving it large', but I gather it's actually an honour to work in A&F as it means you are 'fit'. Fit and presumerbly also as thick as two short planks to allow yourself to be exploited in such a manner for £6.50 an hour.

Shops like A&F with concieted good looking staff (Urban Outfitters is another prime example) also irk me, as until a few years ago, I would be seriously intimidated about going in them, actually being worried about what the staff would think of me. Fortunately, now I am not just confident enough in myself to know I am as 'fit' as them, I also don't fold t shirts for living and could buy that whole pile of muthafuckin' folded Micky Mouse stencilled abomonations if I wanted to.

edit: Ooh I just found THIS article by someone at the Daily Mail *hock, spit* who went undercover at A&F. He said what I said but in a more boring way.

edit: while looking for a suitable image for this entry, I came across their website description - 'The highest quality, All-American lifestyle clothing for aspirational men and women'.
I think I just vommed in my mouth and waged war on the West.

Sartorial 100m Hurdles

Oh God how I wish I had thought of this...

Vice style 'Do's and Don't' from the Olympic opening ceremony.


It fair made me snort into my cornflakes.

Incidentally, I'm off work this week, hence the prolific blogging; it also means I am sampling the 'wonder' that is daytime TV for the first time in about a year. How vile is Jeremy Kyle? Really, who the hell is this perma-angry man who shouts over undereducated poor people as they attempt to defend their poxy lives on national television? I can't believe I ironically dug him at Uni, he is the 21st Century version of the Witchfinder General.

next week on SOB, Biche wonders why aeroplane food tastes so bad, comments that Gordon Brown is a big boring and cocks her hammer in the direction of more sealife held in wooden containers

The Saga of the Clap Clinic

There are lots of reports these days that old people are foregoing knitting in favour of a good hard unprotected rut with other similary saggy skinned biddies. (well, unless you are Ronnie Wood)

When I was at the Clap Clinic today (there ain't no shame, regardless of how you may feel when asked to describe your discharge and you turn into a twittering idiot who goes 'ohmywellisupposeitsabitlikeummmmohwelltheotherweekarentwehavinglovelyweatherthesedays?' much to the chagrin of the long suffering doctor) the only reading material in the waiting room was a copy of SAGA magazine. From December 2007.

And a fascinating read it was too!

But yeah, this would suggest that the oldies do grace Clap Clinics with their presence, although possibly they are so engrossed in readers' photos of snowmen from years gone by (my favourite: This is the snowman we built outside Hounslow Police Station in 1978. Back when we could see to the prisoners how we liked without letting the 'PC brigade' get involved. Pardon the pun!) that they don't hear the doctors call them in, and after a satisfying read, toddle on home again, still riddled with STD 's and without their free bag of condoms and lube.

Incidentally, I do now feel compelled to tell you all, dear readers, that I do not have any diseases, but I did accidentally pee on my hand while taking a urine sample, so I would still give me a wide berth.

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.

The Perry Bible Fellowship

Is a fantastic way to piffle away time, as not only is it very funny, the illustration is superb (should you care about that kind of thing) Okay, it's just very very funny.

You can see a huge collection of pbf comic strips HERE


I think there is also a book of them all you can buy from Amazon*

*Biche covers her back for using images without permission

The Google Image Search Blog

I both love and hate this website in equal measures - I love it because it is frankly flipping brilliant in it's simplicity, but hate it because I noodle around on Google image search all the time and never thought of the idea first. Basically, it is a site of pcitures found when random words are entered into GIS.
For example, here are some of the results for the word 'turp':

Anyway the website is HERE should you be as terminally bored as me.. it's made by the same 'funny blog man' from the HOT LINKZZZ section who wrote the blog about the gothic personal ads on top of many other amusing entries, and who I should probably pay royalties to, if more than three people a day (two of whom usually upon recieving a pathetic email from me on the matter) read the poor little Speeches..

Girl Power! (plate)

Thanks to a free voucher from work I went to a Powerplate class for the first time yesterday. To those of you who are not vapid urbanite females aged 20 - 29, working off Oxford Street, disposible income, no kids, Sex and the City boxset owners blah blah blah*, a 'powerplate' is the object to the left; a platform that vibrates really fast causing your muscles to spasm and so tone as you squat, thrust and do other faintly embarrasing exercises on it.

Now I have never really gone in for this kind of thing before, and by that I mean I have never owned one of those weird belt things that similarly cause muscle spasms via electric shocks or been wrapped in mud and clingfilm..basically expensive activities only a brandname away from medieaval torture. There was the incident with the 'Slimatea' where I didn't consider exactly how drinking tea could make you slim**, but on the whole I generally subscribe to the idea that if you want to be slimmer you have to get up off your fat arse, leave any notion of pride at the door and head down the gym.

But I digress. So what is a powerplate class like? Basically it is a group of five or so of slightly hippy (as in pelvis) deskladies plus the obligitory buff northern trainer to shout 'eey oop lasses yer doin' great!', a small room which is akin to the inside of a discoball and five or so pink little faces with expressions like horrified kittens confronted by a bee as they stare transfixed at their own wobbling images in the many reflective surfaces. Oh and there is mint tea on tap.

It was a little bit harder than the website suggested (more on that later) but thankfully the 25 minutes flew by.

What was weirdest was the sensation after the class, which I can only really liken to being in shock...a weird weightlessness/shakiness which I haven't experienced since I was evacuated from Kings Cross and saw a bus explode a couple of years ago, but without the obvious FEAR and mental skulduggery that 'shock' usually entails.

So yes, now it is 24 hours later, and I guess it worked as I am practially crippled - well my bum keeps twinging and I can't lift my arms, the usual masocistic signs that I take to mean GOOD.

So will I go back? Not sure. If anything it is an expensive (£20 for 25 mins!) way to lose any sense of self esteem and get an achey bum, but I think in these vapid grande skinny wet double latte times we all need to be taken down a notch or two. Even if it does mean you will shell out a whole load more on other pointless weightloss quackery.

p.s you can check out the website HERE if you so wish, but I warn you now, you will want to beat the web designer, PR company and whoever else was involved over the head with a metal bound version of the Female Eunich until they are a bloody pulp. It is the most patronising, chic lit More magazine lambrini HELL of a website. Quite why they haven't marketed it to the wannabe Carrie and Samanthas who at least possess half a brain and maybe an unread copy of the Female Eunich is beyond me.





* Biche does not own aforementioned boxset, sadly she does not need rolemodels for her slide into superficial oblivion
** laxative

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.

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...

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.'

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.

Immature Farting Game

Hide the Fart

Oh dear, this game is quite addictive. You basically need to fart discreetly when a car passes by pressing the space bar, and the left arrow if the pressure gets too much. If the man next to you hears you lose, and you also explode if the fart gas gets too high.

Hours of fun I think you'll agree!

Why North London is Nice - SAVE ORIENTAL CITY!

Oriental City (or Ori tal C ty as I think the sign currently reads) is in Colindale and is basically an Oriental supermarket with the most mental food court ever and a row of Hello Kitty and Oriental Crockery shops on the side. The Segapark is a games arcade which is pretty shit, except there is a mini bowling alley, and the casino is a room of slot machines.

THAT SAID

It is amazing.

The food court is a massive patchwork quilt of lurid photos of different dishes, from China, Japan, Vientnam and Thailand (Korea is shunted around the corner for some reason) and they give you portions so massive and delicious you either feel bad about leaving so much or you throw up on the side of the north circular on the way home (true!)

I doubt there are many other places in London where you can find a whole row of shelves devoted purely to different brands of soy sauce, and there is great fun to be had in pootling around buying random stuff with fun packaging and only working out in the car home what it actually is you are eating (jellies shaped as fruits, slimming tea, fermented soybeans and these little coloured balls made of sweet rice btw)

I was also veh impressed to see a white lanky Postman Pat lookalike barking orders to the shelf stackers in fluent Mandarin.


Anyway, THE MAN (a.k.a Brent Council) want to shut down Oriental City and this would be a terrible shame, not only to all the bratty North London types like I who like Dim Sum and collecting Maneki Neko and other bits of tat, but to the large East Asian Communities that live in the area who see it as a cultural centre and vital resource.

So yes, go sign the petition HERE and stop it being turned into a load of swanky flats. I think they should save it, then petition again to get it done up; not just buy new letters E, N and I for the sign, but actually put more shops in there because frankly there is a lot of wasted space and I was not satisfied with the range of Maneki Neko available.

Make a difference yo...