Dancing herd

No escaping it, we are as beautiful and easily led as cows. Dancing cows. Moo.

Thanks to Mattyboomboom and @herdmeister

Welcome to 1995

1995. What a year. A year when the internet didn’t really exist. No mobile phones. No iPods. No email. No nothing really. Just a soulless existence where you had to actually be on time to meet people and where Blur were preparing to do  battle with Oasis.

Well I’ve been forcibly transported back to that happy year as my iPhone has been sent to hospital.  Apparently they don’t appreciate being watered and my insurance company insists on inspecting its damaged carcass before asking Apple for a new one. For two long weeks I will be incommunicado via a mobile telephony device.  This is the first time for 10 years I have been without a phone for more than one day. This may get difficult especially given I am addicted to all things internets and insist on having a constant soundtrack to my life piped directly into my earholes. Instant cold turkey.  Probably in 5 hours I’ll be curled up in a corner shivering and covered in my own vomit. Or I’ll feel strangely liberated. Maybe this is the very push I need to stop checking twitter every 5 minutes?

Only a very long two week time will tell.

Welcome to last year

I entertained myself greatly for all of today when I changed my facebook language to pirate.  Everyone should do this. Or rather everyone probably did it for a day way back ages ago (like, so last year duh) when everyone heard about it.  I’ve been blissfully unaware of the delights of checking your ‘bottle o’messages’ or liking a link by saying ‘it be pleasin to me eye’. They’ve translated everything, it’s brilliant:  adverts be ‘hawkin’; events be ‘grog fests’; you can scrawl on people’s planks (haha), or share by ‘divving the spoils me hearties’.  There is nothing that is not amusing about this me mateys.

Arrrrr.

Another week…

Boys

Boys I love a little too much. Guy, Noah, and ol’ Russ.

Delicious vampire from the pilot of being human: Guy Flanagan

I’m hoping he’s a self googler this Guy Flanagan from Being Human because… well… oh my god…

Airborne Toxic Event’s Noah. On the right.

Noah doing some speaking.

Russell Brand. I don’t love him. In fact I slightly detest him. But he’s quite intoxicating. A guilty pleasure alright? Don’t judge me.

I saw him last night.  Here he is

Holy Shit. Twitter broke

Twitter makes it okay with a nice fail picture.

Calm is not quite restored.

In other twitter related news, I’ve ordered my twitter username as a necklace from the very lovely people at Couch Objects. Delighful, geeky and pretty (just like me, obv).

Fuck you media

What a week.

Adam gets blown up in Spooks; Russell Brand resigns due to the whirlwind of Daily Mail style moralising and outrage; and now David Tennant quits Doctor Who. So a big Fuck You to the media post coming up.

Ironic considering I technically am the media, this is the media (a teeny tiny part of it), I work in the media, and generally munch my way through a lot of media all day every day… nom nom nom I go. But today took the fecking arsing biscuit.

Today I was progressing nicely from Denial to Anger to Bargaining in my five stages of grief at the untimely loss of the lovely Adam Carter from Spooks on Monday. I’ve reached Depression now safe in the knowledge that I waited a full year for this episode and it ends with a ridiculously teeny bomb that would have killed hardly any kiddies at all. Fine. Thanks BBC. I’m fine about it really. No no, honestly I am. Liked your CGI car bomb. NOT. But why not have him stub his toe and die of septicemia? Or fall of a step ladder doing some DIY?

Oh then iplayer, who NEVER email me, suddenly decide to taunt me today with the subject line

Will Spooks’ Adam make it out alive?

Well the answer’s no isn’t it? Because IF YOU KNEW ME AT ALL you would know that I’ve already watched both episodes on your stupid yet marvelous iplayer and know that he’s dead, dead, dead. Anyway… ahem. Moving swiftly on.

The whole Russell-Ross-Manuel-affair. I mean blimey. Words (almost) fail me. News coverage has left me despairing and wondering where all the people with common sense have disappeared to. I particularly liked the humourless transcripts printed in The Sun and how the poor girl felt too tramutised to continue her burlesque show in Europe but found enough strength to have a chat to The Sun and The Mail on Sunday.

Oh how the media love a ‘national scandal’ (quote ITV news at 10). Bored newsrooms up and down the land sick to death of the arsing credit crunch, or desensitsed by any number of the horrific wars going on this very moment must rub their hands with delight at the chance to tear down a couple of foolish telly celebrities like a pack of crazed kiddies that have had too much Sunny-D.

Anyway urban blog recounts the whole grizzly affair. Do have a read. And then laugh or weep at the idiocy of it all.

Last but definitely not least the wonderful, charming, delicious, funny, and other superlative adjectives but not forgetting beautiful David Tennant is quitting Doctor Who. We all knew this. We all knew that Moffet taking over would mean a whole change of, well everything. But to announce it today of all days? That’s just bad form. If there are any Kurt Cobain style suicides tomorrow I wouldn’t be surprised. But that would probably only end up buried on page 7 while the braying idiots spew righteous venom about Brand quitting all over the front pages while the world rolls on towards catastrophic climate change, or bankruptcy. But who cares about that boring news? LOL!!??!!1one!!. Fuck you media

Get a job your parents won’t understand

It’s time for the fresh young things to think about what they want to do with their expensive degrees: bum around being a student for a further 2 years (like what I did) or get a real job?

get a job your parents won’t understand

Gawd bless ‘er

The Queen is visiting Google today.  

life is sucks :-(

a sample of search terms for the smile experiment

oh dear.  I hope the poor unfortunate found comfort in delicious scotch eggs. Nom nom nom