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.

Nothing is new...or sexy

I expect by now you've seen Morrissey's new 'gasp omg contravorsial' CD sleeve (Dlisted and Ich Luge Bullets have shrieked about it at length) It's here anyway in all it's pallid fleshy glory:

Ha, let us blight the memory of your favourite songs as they will now forever be associated with some hairless pale blokes from the pub stand around nonchalently listening to Morrisey play 'pat a cake' on his head.

Well anyway, vaguely offputting it is. New, contravorsial or different it aint. Get ready for a second scar on your retinas...

Yup, Cosmopolitan, glossy mag for slags (or for those stuck at train stations when WH Smiths has run out of Marie Claire) has had celebrity male centerfolds for years, including this incredibly...honest? one of Radio 1 or 5 or whatever DJ Colin Murray* from a couple of years ago.

One can only assume (or rather would like to assume as it is tres amusent) that Moz is a Cosmo Girl

*I don't get it. If you were of a slightly mouse-like persuasion, why would you agree to have your DJ partner (with her incredible invisible legs and torso) hold a CD over your bits in a delicate pinching fashion one would usually use when trying to pick up a teeny tiny jellybean off a desk? No amount of 'it's THIS big' hand gestures from you is going to offset that.

Rampantly Popularist Interlude

Look, look there is a tube map. Lovely. This is an unashamed attempt by me to get more people to this site, even if it's only because they are google imaging 'tube map' or some such.

Oh yeah, and you can now follow me on twitter, should you be wondering whether I have actually died or fallen off the earth this time, or if work is just a little bit busy and I can't think of anything funny to write.

"and then I ate a pie.." - A Couple of Tedious University Anecdotes

I was slightly peeved when I opened my free copy of Shortlist last week, as they brought to the world's (well, to the males of the UK who go to work around 8am and tolerate having sheets of paper thrust in their faces by surley midgets in branded caps) attention the running joke of my third year of uni.. The Cumberland Pencil Museum!

See! Secret Wartime Pencils!

Experience! A Journey Through a Graphite Mine!

Marvel! At the World's Largest Coloured Pencil!

I picked up this pamphlet at a pub in the Lake District on a Photography Society trip (quiet you!), the main activity which was an all day wander through the gloriously scenic hills. I managed to drop and break my camera approximately ten meters after setting out in the direction of gloriously scenic hills, whilst trying to take a photo of a nice tree. This then meant a long day of people taking photos of aforementioned hills and a bored me trying to get in their photos of hills ('for perspective!'), until it started to rain and it was generally agreed to head for a pub post haste. Unfortunately 'poste haste' translated into a monotonous five hour hike, not particularly helped by the numerous farmers who would cheerfully tell us that their local was 'just around the corner!' when in fact it would be another three hour trudge down massively steep shingle hill.

But anyway, we eventually bum rushed some unsuspecting local joint, usually only used to superhuman speed walking farmers and the occasional rambler, and this leaflet made it all worth it. Well, this leaflet and a massive portion of pie.

We were going to go on a house trip to the Cumberland Pencil Museum, but the joke wore a bit thin and laziness prevailed so we just ended up going to York, I ate another pie, and we snuck into the Minster for free.

Totteridge is For Pussies

Obviously Totteridge is full of WIMPS as no one had got either of these fine videos out the library since 1998. One of the perks of the Flatmate's Saturday job is classy films such as these, plus outrageously underrated and ignored works of literature like 'Russian Fabric Designs of the 19th Century' and '101 Women's Institute Soup Recipies'.

And if you can think of a better way to spend a Sunday afternoon than discussing Moscovite Gingham over a nice bowl of ministrone while the telly blares out the sound of fighter jets in the background, then you sir, are a highly dillusioned individual.

Designer Vagina Recliner

Parents coming round for tea? Thinking they are starting to question whether Rico the 20 year old hairdressing apprentice is really your lodger? In your one bed loft apartment just off Soho Square? With your pet dog, who inexplicably has a nametag saying 'Dolly' when his name is Rover?

Well this is then this is the sofa for you! Nothing screams 'I am a heterosexual man! God I love doing it, doing it with women!' more than a giant pink vagina sofa.. why you are loving women every time you sit down!

Also suggested for women who are fed up with 20 years of boob grab, roll, shove, shove, shove, sigh, roll, snore from their husbands, or anyone who is old enough to buy a sofa but still calls their vagina a 'noo noo' or 'foo foo' or 'front bottom'

Happy 2008 ,You Bastard..

I recently received a desk calendar from a law firm who shall remain nameless. Most big companies shunt out branded crap around this time of the year, and desk calendars are popular as ideally it means you will plonk it on your desk and therefore be reminded of aforementioned big company for the next 52 weeks of the year.

Usually there is an inane theme like 'drawings by kids of the board members' or 'stock photos of seasonally relevent landscapes'.

This firm, either as a reflection of itself, or how it percieves it clientele, appears to have chosen the theme 'Cunty cliche work quotes for the office bastard in your life'Why not spend April 2008 shoving this in the face of anyone who asks you if you could possibly not answer the phone going 'What?' swiftly followed by 'Dunno. Dunno. Well fuck you too Tonto'


June 2008 - the sun will be shining, Glastonbury Festival will be kicking off, you will be in a perpetual sarky sulk because every time you glance at this calendar it both reaffirms your belief that you are a misunderstood by every single one of the 700 plebs you have to work with, and makes you chuckle, you absolute cunt.


July 2008 will be spent pushing around pencils, sighing in a loud irritating fashion and checking your eye wrinkles in the back of a CD (if over 30) and pushing around pencils, sighing in a loud irritating fashion and looking up 1980's cartoons on Wikipedia (if under 30)


2008 will be rounded off by using this quote every time your boss asks you why you have spent all day mooching around the office trying to nick as many different departments' homemade mince pies as possible. They will then prompty fire you and you will spend the Christmas break trying to work out what made you act like such a massive bastard this year.

Look and Learn: An Interesting Story from 1980's New York Black/Hispanic Gay Culture

Dorian Corey was a 'legendary' transexual in New York , who in the 1980's - early 1990's was head of the House of Corey, one of the many Houses that dominated the New York Ball scene.

If you haven't seen the documentary 'Paris is Burning' then you really should, it's an utterly fascinating view of an underground world that doesn't exist anymore. Young, mainly black and hispanic gay men flocked to New York City in the 70's and 80's where they could be free to be who they wanted to be...within limits. These were aspirational times, when you didn't just want to be yourself, you wanted to be you but better, a banker, a yuppie, Joan Collins in Dynasty. Being poor, gay and an ethnic minority meant you had the faintest chance of this happening, except at the Balls, where you could dress fierce, compete in catwalks or vogueing competitions to win prizes and for that evening you WERE fierce.

Most of these young men were rejected by their real families for their homosexuality or transexualism and so saught solace in a new sort of family. Called 'houses' and named after the great fashion houses of Paris such as 'House of Dior' or 'House of Chanel', they consisted of a house mother (usually an older transsexual a.k.a a Legendary, a veteran of the ball scene) and a house father (usually an older butch gay man), and all the other members were the children.
They would all take the surname of their house, and compete in Balls for them.

Anyway, back to Corey. Wikipedia had this unusual little tidbit:

After Corey's death in 1993, a mummified body with gunshot wounds was found in Corey's belongings. The body, which had been shut in a trunk for more than twenty years, had a note attached to it which read "This poor soul broke into my apartment and I was forced to shoot him." It was later identified as Robert Worley.

For more on Ball Culture, which is quite frankly fascinating, see:

Wiki entry on 'Paris is Burning'

NYT article on the aftermath of the documentary.. Paris has Burned

Article on Angie Xtravanganza and Dorian Corey

Wiki entry on Ball Culture

Wiki entry on Venus Xtravaganza

or look up Willi Ninja on youtube

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..

Belated Halloween Post 2007!

Halloween costume ideas for the disabled child in your life:

Lots more tips and tricks for costumes here!

What can I say? I'm just bitter because my costume consisted of a pink wig which I have had for three years... I decided to cut it into a bob this year for a 'fresh new look' (aka it was getting all ratty) and ended up looking like the girl from Lazytown rather than the 'Natalie Portman in Closer' look I was aiming for. The girl from Lazytown if she wrapped her pear shaped arse in a black mac and trudged around Whitechapel looking at carparks where 119 years ago some prostitutes were killed rather nastily. *

*Jack the Ripper tour, in case that wasn't clear. Pretty interesting, but only because of what the guy said, which I think would have had the same effect said on a warm coach instead of wandering around law firm carparks and back entrances to office blocks. Although I suppose there were a couple of old buildings that gave a sort of atmosphere, until we had to move on as another Ripper group was on our tail.

Richard Littlejohn - He writes for the People

The second in an occasional series of amusing amazon.co.uk book reviews. This week:

Littlejohn's Britain: 'a themed collection of pieces that fires broadside at Blair's Britain and the absurdity of petty bureaucracy' - The cover

'the racist xenophobic witterings of a fool' - The Biche
finally someone gets it, 10 May 2007
By
pablo dombrowski "wewillcomebackasfire" (london) - See all my reviewsat last, a man with the visionary skills to realise how dangerous the London Eye is. So many people don't realise that this is an evil eye. Look at the patterns... it's clearly the eye that the freemasons use to signify control. They're laughing at us people, laughing. They're in league with the communists that make up the so-called labour party, and have ACTUEALLY erected this monument to their control, and we like sheep, actually RIDE IN IT. oh, i could weep for the stupidity of humanity. Buy this book AND LEARN THE TURTH before they get you.

the intellect of this man hath no bounds, 12 May 2007
By
Mr. B. B. N. Farrant "natural history fan" (uk) - See all my reviews One is reminded of Orwell, who once said "Every book is a failure." Well Orwell was clearly a fool and had not stumbled upon 'Littlejon's Britain' whilst browsing on Amazon, for no educated man could dare claim this seminal piece of literature a failure. If, as H.G. Wells assures us, that "Good books are the warehouses of ideas" then this book is a vast chasm of a warehouse, overflowing with such a smorgasbord of enlightened ideas that may liberate us from the shackles of contemporary liberal Britain. Oh how i feel complete having read this book, now i truly understand the meaning of Bernard Shaw's musing, "Only in books has mankind known perfect truth, love and beauty." LittleJohn i am indebted to you. hurrah



A new world dawns at the turn of a page., 12 May 2007
By
Mizake - See all my reviewsWith this insightful, visionary, and - I am not ashamed to say - celestially inspirational commentary on modern life, Richard Littlejohn has rendered the entire canon of Western literature, philosophy and ethical discourse entirely moot. On finishing the book - in one sitting, I might add, its compelling majesty renders one utterly incapable of laying it down - I had no choice but to burn each and every one of the other books I own. Such trinkets are simply unnecessary in the face of such brilliance, in this new and glorious era of "Anno Littlejohn". Yes, I cry, cast Hamlet and Macbeth into the fire! Render the Iliad and the Kalevala into dust! Drive away the librarians and book sellers! No other works are necessary; all knowledge and truth is contained herein. Praise you, Sir Richard, and long may your wisdom guide us all.

Thought provoking stuff!, 12 May 2007
By
Mangina Reilly-Hurtz (Misogyny) - See all my reviewsI read this while awaiting clearance in a terminal at London's Heathrow. By the time I turned over the last page I realised Britain was not for me. Thank you Mr Littlejohn. You have saved me from a squalid life living in a small studio flat above yet another Indian Takeaway or Pizza Delivery service. As for the neighbours I would have had according to you. Well it is not worth thinking about. So I asked for the Immigration Service to return me on the earliest flight back to where I came from. I just wouldn't want to live in a country that produced Littlejohn. Plain and simple

Brilliantly exposes the bonkers values of socialist Britain:, 1 Jun 2007
By
Brian Ginnity (Colchester) - See all my reviews
This book exposes the way we are now governed, which is why a lot of socialists can only respond with mockery and insult. It hits home and they can't handle it. It's the old "we're right (by definition) so anybody who doesn't agree with us must mad, bad or both. That's how the old USSR was able to justify locking up it's political opponents in mental hospitals. The book was a funny and merciless description of the self-serving, hypocrital antics of the likes of Prescott, Blair (Mr and Mrs), police chiefs who refuse to fight crime, councils who refuse to collect rubbish and all the other useless so-and-sos who have got us to where we are now.



Oh wait, that last one could be serious... well anyway, you can find all the reviews here

The Muppets F**k the Police

Ha, got to love my hypocrisy that it feels kind of wrong writing the title of this post without the **, but as my Jason Lee post shows, I am generally far from adverse to using bad language.

But anyway, here is a delightful little video found by my friend Acrobat..it also brings the number of posts I have written about NWA up to at least three, which is quite remarkable given that I own no albums by the said rap combo, and indeed they have featured very little in my life bar when I went to sixth form and one of the feeder schools was called Compton.

Photo of Day - Jess has a Fake Versace Face

(Left: Jess, not amused. Right: fake bag from breezeblock market in Camden, equally unimpressed)

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.

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

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.

Tori Amos New Album Cover

Observe the album cover for Tori's new album 'American Doll Posse. Observe close up below...
It's Helen Mirren non?

The Stuff You Stumble Upon, eh?

This is an arial shot of Woburn MA (be damned if I can be arsed to spell that state)

Did you know that in Woburn it takes an average time of 23 minutes to travel to work?

30% of Woburnians have never married?

The most common industry for men is construction (12%)?

There are 71,662 books in Woburn Public Library?

There are 8 people in homes for the mentally ill, but only 2 in religious group quarters (not much of a group eh?)

0.3% of all households are gay households?

I particularly like that they feel the need to colour blue, underline and bold the fact that there
According to our research there were 5 registered sex offenders living in Woburn, Massachusetts in early 2007


And to think I got all of this because I typed the name 'Eric Bogosian' into google. (he was born in this illustrious town in 1953) Thank you internet, for you have enriched my life and saved me from rambling on about how I find a ranty Jewish actor who is old enough to be my father strangely attractive..

Anyway, should you wish to know more about Woburn MA (I haven't even mentioned average daily temperatures let alone the number of children in Woburn Public School) you can do so by clicking HERE


P.S If someone who knows someone from Woburn, or even better is from Woburn themselves, please comment me - it will make my bloody week!


p.p.s It's the eyes see, the eyes!

The Vinegar of Jesus.

In a moment of crushing boredom, I decided to look up Apple Cider Vinegar on the internet, after a mooch around Holland and Barrett made me wonder why it was so great.

WELL...

If you believe the internet, ACV prety much cures all your woes AND makes you lose weight by zapping fat or some shit. And I quote:

"the reported cures from drinking Apple Cider Vinegar are numerous: allergies (including pet, food and environmental), sinus infections, acne, high cholesterol, flu, chronic fatigue, candida, acid reflux, sore throats, contact dermatitis, arthritis, and gout. One reader reported that a shot of ACV saved him from going to the emergency room for heart pain. Apple Cider Vinegar also breaks down fat and is widely used to lose weight. It has also been reported that a daily dose of apple cider vinegar in water has soaring blood pressure under control in two weeks!

If you can get over the taste of apple cider vinegar, you will find it one of the most important natural remedies in healing the body.

As a wonderful side effect of drinking apple cider vinegar every day, we discovered that it brings a healthy, rosy glow to one's complexion! This is great news if you suffer from a pale countenance."

Hmm, thought I, I certainly have a pale counternance and a fat arse - maybe ACV, apparently Jesus in the form of sour piss-tasting apple brew, will be the answer to all my prayers!

So sure enough, this week I am testing it out. And not by half either, I figured to really get the most out of drinking a shot of 'orrible rancid piss every day, I might as well REALLY test it out. So I am eating a lot of taramasalata. And cake. Not together.

And no, the Jesus vinegar is not just for humans! Like the real Jesus himself if he had ever existed Jesus Vinegar loves all living things!

"Apple Cider Vinegar is also wonderful for dogs, cats, and horses. It helps them with arthritic conditions, controls fleas & barn flies, and gives a beautiful shine to their coats!"

Maybe I should try feeding some to the hamster, just to see what happens. He's quite a sturdy little thing - he accidentally rolled his ball into a puddle of bleach yesterday and is fine!

I wonder what Jesus Vinegar does to plants...

p.s How fabulous is that cake? I wish I was eating cake like that, opposed to stale slices from Happening Bagels. Boo

When Dancing Goes Wrong - a Pictorial Analysis

I have come to the horrible realisation (just as this woman has judging by her face) that I'm not sure I know how to dance anymore. I mean, at indie clubs where you know all the songs because they play the same shit every week (plus the occasional renegade 'oh how ironic are we' song such as Material Girl by Madonna or Video Killed the Radio Star or something) it is easy because you pretty much just sing along in a very exaggerated manner, and let's be honest, even act out the words if you're drunk enough, but real dancing? Kettle of fish mate, kettle of fish.
Still, in order to miss the most common of mistakes, here is my guide to what happens
When Dancing Goes Wrong

Dancing to dance music in an indie way.
Result? A terrible mixture of headbanging, confusion, and gesturing for that small dwarf in the corner of the room to 'call me'


Keepin' it reeeeel a little bit too much in an Indie Club.
Result? Everyone look at the man holding the invisible umbrella


Dancing to a somber song whilst really drunk
If you listen to the lyrics too much the face doesn't match the unparalleled joy purveyed by the waggling fingers. This yields a look not dissimilar to a biblical portrait of a matyr. If however the face is lit up in a 'God I LOVE The Smiths!' kind of way, it doesn't match the more somber 'leave me alone I am sad' hand movement. This leaves you looking like you are trying to cop a feel.



Dancing to RnB in a way you consider to be how to dance to RnB
Result? Your friends pretend you don't exist as you impersonate a pissed off hieroglyphic behind their backs.



Mistaking miming instruments as dancing
Result? Ruining perfectly nice group photos by insisting on playing the invisible slap-bass and giving the impression you are a group of carers and their charge, on a day out from Sheltered Accomodation.