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Showing posts from January, 2006

Asking the Question

I was in a hotel, I was tired and I wanted to make a phone-call. I was passing reception which was completely empty except for the receptionist. "Do you have to dial a '9' to get an outside line from my room?" I asked. And with that question the grey mid-forties man, name-tagged 'Lloyd' slowly tapped his favourite chin and decided on giving me an answer more useless than saying "I have no idea"; more rude than saying "Why don't you just F*** off"; and more irritating than Carol Vorderman crying over Richard Whitely dying. "Let me answer your question, with a question?" Why? I thought to myself, have I jumped too far ahead in the whole concept of telecommunications? Do we need to discuss something else more fundamental first before getting on to the fun bits? But from the smug grin on this man's face, it was apparent that some cutting and unnecessary remark was about to pop its ugly head out of his ugly head. "What but
"Well you only live once." was the final argument put to me. But what does it really have to do with buying an overpriced car? I had all but claimed victory in an argument with someone about a car they bought that they really couldn't afford. My argument incidentally was that they really couldn't afford it and just as I had beaten them into submission they threw this last five word punch. My brain told me that this was indeed a valid statement and as such I felt I had lost the argument. But by this logic it would only be a problem buying something out of your financial means if you believed in reincarnation, that you had multiple lives. And of course you couldn’t buy an overpriced car if you were a cat, who would have been stuck with the financial burden throughout all of its nine lives. How many other arguments have I lost by someone throwing in "you only live once", which with further analysis I would have realised was irrelevant to the argument? There'
05 January Listening to Movie Stars “It’s so much bigger than all of us” said some actor off some film on , talking about this some film on the radio on my way home from work. The some film was called “Brokeback Mountain” and it’s about Gay Cowboys. Which is ground-breaking apparently, as there’s never been a film about Gay Cowboys before. But there’s probably never been a film about gay toothpaste factory operatives or gay goat murderers, but noones crying into their Cornflakes. I shouldn’t really joke about it. I mean obviously Movie-stars are the most intelligent people in the known universe. Who else can make millions of dollars out of pretending to be angry. In fact thank god this actor made that statement about the film, or my brain would have just been constantly running over the possibilities of exactly how big the film was. “I wonder if this film is smaller than me or bigger than me,” it would have been contemplating, ” or it might actually be bigger than a large amount of peo
22 December "I've got some very exciting projects in the pipeline... hopefully, please!" The newspapers, and those people that read them nodding their head( often named Geoff ), are always saying that there are too many celebrities around today (and that they get headaches when they read). Apparently Former Big Brother contestants will go along to the opening of an envelope. Not even interesting envelopes, just boring normal brown envelopes that contain bank statements or letters written in blood. In the old days, it was easy to tell who a Celebrity was, they appeared on Wogan. Wogan grinned at them entranced as they wheeled off tedious details of their latest film ( normally filmed on location but set in LA) or a book about their life (which they‘d written themselves with a tiny bit of help from someone who bothered to learn reading and writing skills and wasn‘t addicted to pain killers), with a few shite anecdotes tagged on about when they tripped over a cat at Bruce Wi
20 December Christmas Classical Music Shopping Walk into Virgin Megastore and it's just crammed with DVD Boxsets of Doctor Who and Desperate Housewives. Oasis are snarling loudly from invisible speakers, and the place is full of middle-aged men that shop only once a year. One of them goes to walk out, his plastic Virgin bag swinging back and forth with very over-confident stride. But as he passes the detectors, the sort of high pitched, sort of low-pitched alarm decides it needs to express itself. Teri Hatcher and Billie Piper look up from there respective Box Sets tutting. The man stops and returns their stares. A thick irritated grin punctuates his smug face as he waits for some kid in a 'Virgin Megastore' T-Shirt to give him the wave of ‘I don’t think you’re a thief’. I make my way over towards the far corner of the store, in search of some 'Classical Music' for Christmas present buying purposes. It has its own separate room. I open the door and enter, letting it
05 December Sorry That’s the trouble with catching trains in this country. ‘What is?’ you might ask, irritated by the fact I started off this entry as if I had already told you. Well the fact they’re fucking useless, is at the very least mildly irritating. And when whichever one you’re waiting for is inevitably late (because if it was on time it would only confuse people), you get a nice women saying “I’m sorry, but the 18:22 to London Paddington is delayed by seventeen minutes.” Except the nice women is a recording controlled by a computer. In fact she always seems slightly amused by the whole situation. Maybe someone had told her a knob joke just before the recording, and much as she knew her voice would become a symbol of commuter misery, was unable to hide her amusement and indifference. They could have recorded it again, given it one last shot at conveying a single ounce of regret. But they didn’t have enough time as she had to record her “I’m very sorry” version of the message fo
Being Smug on a Bus The only space left on the bus was on the back seat next to Vicky Pollard’s ugly sister who was busy on her phone to someone who obviously liked being shouted at. I went to sit down and was told “My boyfriend’s sitting there!” I looked around to see evidence of someone ugly enough, but noone looked likely so I sat down. “He’s getting on at the next stop.” she mumbled. “Oh” I said smugly and loudly, “So, My boyfriend SHALL be sitting there.” I leaned back, happy with my semantic correctional performance. And everyone looked at me laughing, clearly also enjoying my….Oh..
29 November Walkabout Southampton were playing at 12:30pm, which is far too early for pub-visiting, but what with the new 24 hour licenses, it is our responsibility as British citizens to now drink in pubs at inappropriate times, because we can. Anyway, I could have just drunk coke. Arriving at the ‘Walkabout’ pub slightly past 12:30, the game had already started. I walked in still wearing my woolie hat that I had just bought, enjoying the feeling of having hair. I don't mean my hat felt or looked like hair. It’s just that to the outside world, whilst I wear the hat, people are unable to identify me as a de-haired person, thus, I allows me to enjoy brief moments as a person of hair. I walked to the bar to order my beer or coke, I forget now. The screen above the bar was showing the football, but it meant I had to slightly arch back from the bar to see what was going on. As there was a rather competitive queue, each arch back to catch the exciting action lost me valuable 'It
21 November Sommerfield Loving You have to love Sommerfield Supermarkets, not because there's some kind of law enforcing your love for them, just because they ignore any innovations/standards of competitors and tread their own directionless path through the murky retail jungle. Whilst the uninspired Tesco and her friends will try and place goods in some kind of logical order, allowing shoppers to get a picture in their mind of where the next object on their list might be, Sommerfield are much more artistic, randomly spreading goods into every nook and cranny with aisles that seem to have categories like "Yellow things" and "Stuff that's boring". For example, one day you may come across a jar of mustard. If you are a mustard fan, buy as many jars as will fit in your basket, because you'll probably never bump into them again unless you form some special mustard locating task-force. In fact fire a flare in the air to tell your fellow shoppers that mustard h
13 November Kelly Clarkson Kelly Clarkson Kelly Clarkson ‘Everybody’s talking about Kelly Clarkson’ says the TV advert advertising an album by Kelly Clarkson, and I’m not actually sure who she is. But everybody’s talking about her. Look at me now, just another person on the all encompassing list of everyone talking about Kelly Clarkson. No work is being done, no papers delivered, no bread baked. Nobodies playing football or cleaning their teeth, arguing about sofas, videoing firework displays or driving Volvos. No one can eat because a mouth full of food would block the flow of Kelly Clarkson related words escaping from their gob. The two minutes Armistice Day silence, utterly ruined by constant Kelly chat. You’re not reading this now because YOU are unable to shut up about Kelly Clarkson. And because of this, there is no future for this planet or you or anybody. I hope you’re happy Kelly Clarkson.
08 November Firework Displays Fireworks exploding, children excitedly pointing to the skies open mouthed as sharp and fevered colours light up the sky. An old couple look on, smiles on their faces with the comfort of knowledge that some things don‘t need to change. Then there’s a bloke in his mid-forties, with his Sports-Action fleece, eye firmly fixed on the view finder screen of his skywards pointed Sony Cam-Corder. His wife reaches into her bum-bag and brings her Oakley Sunglasses sliding them onto her overly tanned face. Then suddenly silence. Four seconds of it as people turn their heads from the skies to each other, with a look that asks ‘Is it finished?’ It is, and everyone cheers then walk away happy with what they’ve seen. Except mid-forties guy, who replays a short excerpt of his recording, smiles, nods his head and flips the screen back into the camera. He smiles at his wife as if to say ‘A job well done’. But when, will this video ever be used? How bad would television have
31 October The Jamie Oliver Point I was in my German lesson with my two class-mates and the German teacher, and the conversation had somehow strayed onto Jamie Oliver. This was all well and good. Somebody described in German how they thought he must be very wealthy after appearing in the Sainsbury's advertising campaign and I replied with something like 'I like food'. Then the other piped up, 'Jamie Oliver gefallen mir nicht.', which means I don't like Jamie Oliver. I wanted my response to be balanced. I didn’t feel like I wanted to say Jamie Oliver was the best TV Cook ever (Delia would break my eggs) , but then again I felt it was a bit harsh to dismiss him. But my lack of German Vocab meant I was unable to stand in the middle on this point and while I would have like to have said “Jamie Oliver's OK. Alright so he's a bit annoying sometimes with all that geezer pukka stuff, but basically he's seems like a reasonable person”, I had to go for 'J
25 October Over Emotive Computer Error Messages Was just browsing the Southampton Official Football Website and clicked on a link to the news story 'Redknapps Fuller Praise'. The screen went blank and then came up with "There has been a catastrophic error. Please stand by." Terror got hold of me as my mind raced with possibilities of what this catastrophic error I had just invoked would cause. Would it end in the death of a loved one, or maybe the destruction of this planet as we know it? I stood by and nothing happened. I continued standing by. Then I clicked 'Back' and reclicked the link and read the story. If that was catastrophy, I think everything's gonna be alright.
24 October The Last Ever Songs I went into buy a CD in WH Smith and was struck by the fact that the only albums they sell are those that are in the album chart and a few compilation albums. This trend seems to be increasing and other shops seem to be moving the same way. Virgin Megastore has less music in it every time I go, with more and more shelf space being given to DVDs, computer games and performing seals. If this trend continues, there will be increasing public apathy for sea mammal entertainment and practically every shop will just sell the Top 70 albums. Nothing will ever be able to enter or exit the chart ever again. Your Grandchildren's Grandchildren may very well be surrounded by dead seals, listening to James Blunt telling them they're beautiful. The 'Now That's What I Call Music' series has already seemingly run into the problem of lack of songs. They have released "The Now Years", which is the best of the songs from all their previous Now al
11 October Toasters After the catastrophic problems I encountered in Toasting yesterday. I was up nice and early today, to allow myself the time for some laid-back high-level toast preparation. Yet results were disappointing. I set the toaster to a toasting level I have always considered the perfect toasting point, between 3 and 4. But when my slices jumped out, they were of a hugely disappointing nature. I'm therefore forced to admit, I have an inconsistent toaster. I have to ask myself if it is newly inconsistent after two years of reliable consistent toasting, or whether my potential higher toasting standards have forced me into a position where I am unable to be satisfied by toasters in its class. It could be that I need to move up into the more luxury end of the toasting stratosphere. I don't want to start throwing huge amounts of cash into the toaster market with out being sure that I get substantial toasting rewards out the end of it. How I can I be sure how well a toast
Someday Morning I awake, it's six-thirty, got to get up. Why didn't my alarm go off? I push back the quilt in an overly-enthusiastic manner, watch it fly through the air, hit the alarm clock off the bedside table. Maybe there isn’t someone breaking into my flat every day and putting my clock-radio on the floor. And maybe there’s a very good reason why the alarm’s not going off. Jump out of bed and walk to the shower. And then I realise. It‘s Sunday! Go back to bed and rest my head back down on the pillow I should never have left. Why should I care about making a stupid mistake, when I have quality hours of inactivity to enjoy. I'm feeling remarkably well considering the amount of alcohol I consumed last night. I think I may have beaten the evil that is a post-Saturday night hangover. I lift the clock radio off the floor and turn the radio on. Nicky Campbell's voice asks some overly elaborate question to a politician, that if deciphered into normal English, would probabl
Lee, Katie and the Yellow Sofa I need a new sofa. Mine’s not good. It’s tried its best, but frankly, it’s about as comfortable as sitting in the same room as your Gran while there’s Rhino shagging on a wildlife documentary. So along I go to DFS to have a look around. Out of the corner of my eye I spot a huge splurge of yellow sofa. Like a moth to a yellow sofa, I was attracted over to its cushions. But as I arrived, a couple, who by their conversation I learned were called Katie and Lee, were already embroiled in mid raw sofa purchase war. Lee felt that the sofa was too expensive. It was over a grand, and I think he probably felt that something costing that much probably shouldn’t be yellow. "I’d rather spend the money on a fridge" he said, as if a decision would have to be made between cooling food or sitting down. "Ummm, but it’s more than just something to sit on, it’s soo…" Katie pondered, stretching out her left index finger and poking the sofa to check it was
Alcohol Free Being off alcohol for a month has been an unqualified success. One of the benefits has been a clear mind. This has allowed me to finally finish my novel. Here's the final chapter...Bianca picked up her pace, she didn't like walking in the dark and the sun was itching to leave the evening sky. The cold wind repeatedly played with her long ginger hair, rearranging it across her face. Her view sometimes obscured, her avoiding of people and objects was often last-minute and clumsy. She clocked an old women sat on a wall ahead of her, face hidden by a red scarf worn around her head. Bianca focused past the figure and carried on. "Bianca!", the voice came from behind. She stopped and took a sharp intake of breath. Slowly she turned around and wiped the hair away from her eyes. "Ricky?" she froze, and stared as the old women stood up and removed the scarf and long coat. "Yes Bianca, it's me" "You should have told me you were a robot
20 September Volvos and Multi-Storeys If you are behind a Volvo Estate as you are driving towards a Multi-storey and you have even the smallest of suspicions that he too is heading for it, you must get past him before you get there. Use any tactic available; shortcut, overtaking, shooting out his tires with a big gun, anything. If none of these work, abort the multi-storey, go home, have a cup of tea and try again next week. This plan is all very well, but there is always the risk that you didn’t see the Volvo enter, and thus there’s a chance you could still inadvertently end up following a Volvo into a Multi-Storey. It is therefore foolish to be anything other than prepared for such an eventuality. Store canned food in the boot, along with plenty of fluids and a nice thick blanket. People have been known to have been stuck behind Volvos for many weeks. Last year alone, 17 people lost their lives due to dehydration and pneumonia bought on by slow parking. Volvos will enter the Multi-St
Politics and Video Recorders "I wouldn’t have a clue how to program the video recorder, I let my kids do that" said some politician on the radio this morning. I wish I’d caught his name, but I didn’t. To him he probably thought he was saying that he was just like you, technology foxed him, so you could relate to and trust him. To me it sounded like he had the IQ of a sprout. Personally I do not think that someone who admits to not being able to program a Video Recorder should be allowed in any kind of position of responsibility. Surely an MP should have a level of IQ that would allow him to undertake such a task? Are the only tasks this man is able to undertake at a lower complexity than typing a number into a remote control. Is this man able to do up his shoe laces? Can he use door-handles or spell the word "cat"? Does he live his whole life locked in a special room, waited on hand and foot so that all he has to personally undertake is eating and crapping? I want a
08 September A Ghost at Dixons A couple of weekends ago I saw a man standing outside Dixons. It wasn't a strange sight, I really don't want to put negative connotations on such actions. It shouldn’t really have drawn my attention, for although I cannot specifically remember an instance of seeing someone standing outside Dixons, I am almost certain I probably have. I just didn't feel it necessary to commit it to memory. In summary, I concede, people do on occasion stand outside Dixons. But it was different with this haunted looking figure: A hot day, yet he wore a faded turquoise anorak, strands of his thin messy hair hooking it self around the arms of his thick dated glasses. Though you could say he was leaning against the window, he appeared too pushed into it to look like your normal leaner. His eyes were throwing themselves violently left to right and back again, tracking with suspicion the hundreds that walked past him. They never ventured further than a short perimeter
31 August What do song lyrics mean? "Bohemian Rhapsody" makes very little sense. In fact probably no sense at all. But I failed to realise I didn't have a clue what it was about until someone said "That Bohemian Rhapsody, what's that all about?" to which I admitted I had no idea before politely requesting that I just pay for the petrol. Maybe it’s because I didn’t even understand the title, that subconsciously my brain never bothered to try and work out the story behind the song. Then again, it takes a lot of concentration for me to get my subconscious working. So I thought I’d try and work out the meaning a simpler song with non-subconscious conscious thinking. The track "Life" by Des’ree is an ideal candidate for scrutiny. A straightforward title that would surely point the way to various musings on human existence that I could get stuck into. Here's the first verse… "I'm afraid of the dark Especially when I'm in the park When th

Ideas and Television

30 August Television It’s easy to slag off television. You know the people that love to do it, the kind of people with an unreasonably large book about some tortured 60’s musician resting on the coffee table. The bookmark proudly sticking out two-thirds of the way in. They profess with a smug smile that they never watch television as they are to busy and anyway "it’s all rubbish these days". Usually these people have a 50 inch widescreen surround-sound mother-funker with a stack of videos reaching up to the ceiling. They will also drone on about how there are too many reality shows on. They will point out what dross Big Brother before going on to talk about Saskia’s breasts. You interrupt, deciding to annoy them by saying that you’ve read the book about the 60’s musician and make up an incident you think could have possibly occurred in such a book, too which they’ll nod intently saying that’s their favourite bit. These people will be foaming all over their goatees when they h
22 August Making Birthday Cards Decided it would be a good idea to make a birthday card for my mother's 60th Birthday. Bought some blank cards and also some soluble coloured pencils. Then had a complete blank on what the hell I would put on thie card. The only real idea I could come up with was to put a flower rising up from the ground reaching up to the sky or a spaceship. The spaceship seemed unwise and the flower was frankly a little bit too flowery. I then came up with the idea of copying a local Weymouth landmark of the internet and then copying that onto the card. The only one of low enough complexity to be attempted was the wihite chalk horse. I sketched out the horse and thought it looked crap so I threw the card away and sketched it out again. It still looked crap so once more I tried. In my opinion the third attempt was the worst of all but I was definately by this time suffering from chalk-horse-drawing fatigue so I decided to add colour to my third and surviving horse