Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

I need a favour.

Posted: Mar 28, 2014 in Uncategorized

Hello again. Long time no see. How are you? Don’t answer that, I wrote this ages ago and your voice can’t travel back in time.
Actually, if your voice can travel back in time, it’s 9:01am on the 28th March 2014. Say something awesome… now.

No?

Proved my point then.

Anyway, I need a favour from you and your temporally one direction-based (if you include band names in your blog you get more clicks I’m told. Showaddywaddy) voices. I need to get back into this blogging lark, write more nonsense and eventually get down to writing/copy and pasting my difficult second book. The favour I need from you is to kick me up the arse at regular intervals and get me to write stuff.
I know with a little more encouragement from you awesome/nagging people I can start pumping out some funky stuff, and then hopefully I can see about turning this writing lark into cold hard digital cash.
So if you see me tweeting nonsense, making funny pictures for free for folk (again, I need to monetise. FFS) or taking photos of my face made from dinner, please nag at me, tell me to blog, ask me how my difficult second book is coming along and that.
In return for this favour, I will wash your car once, as long as you bring it to my house and provide sponges, car shampoo and a decent hosepipe. No, I’m not giving you my address, put some effort in. It’s almost £3 worth of car wash you’d be getting free there. Shush.

So, yeah. Blogging.

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Oh, and if you were wondering why I’m going on about a difficult second book, why not check out my easy first book HERE

Doctor Who’s 50th Anniversary Episode ‘The Day of the Doctor’ was on this weekend.

I thought it was quite good. If you like Doctor Who then you will probably also think it is quite good too.

If you haven’t already seen it then maybe you should see it.

That’s my review.

Fuck you, Dimbleby.

Posted: Nov 12, 2013 in Uncategorized

So apparently David Dimbleby, the curmudgeonly host of tv programmes that I’m not furious or grown up enough to watch has gone and got a tattoo.

Yeah, I don’t really care, but here’s a lazy bit of photoshop in order to get some retweets and that on twitter.

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So there you go. Sorry.

It’s nearly (well, not really nearly, like 45 days or there abouts) Christmas. So let’s overanalyse a sickeningly twee bit of marketing arse in the form of John Lewis’ Bear and Hare advert.

So, the ad starts with ‘There was once an animal who had never seen Christmas’.
Clearly this statement could apply to lots of animals, because animals tend not to follow the same religions, festivals and celebrations as humans, as they are animals and don’t buy into that shit. Secondly, this could refer to turkeys, or pigs or any other animal slaughtered for the sake of fattening up grandma on the big day. So, yeah, remind us of dead poultry, why don’t ya?

We pan down to a hare riding on the back of a bear. Now, of course bears are not indigenous to this country, because they’re actually not all Winnie the fucking Pooh. They kill people and eat their faces. In fact, why hasn’t the bear tried to eat the Hare? Surely the presence of a lanky oversized rabbit on it’s back, doing those little nesquik cereal shits they do (then eating them and doing slightly runnier nesquik cereal shits) would be an unwelcome thing for the bear. Basically, the bear would bite the hare’s head off and stamp on it until it’s guts burst out of it’s neck and then it would slurp up those guts and spit out all the bones into a little pile outside the hare’s home as a warning to never sit (or shit, hares shit a lot) on it’s back again.

The bear sniffs something as Lily Allen starts singing a very slow, slightly whiney cover version of one of those songs that gets overplayed for three years. I forget which one, they all sound the same when they slow them down and make them whiney.

Anyway, the first snowflake of the year lands on the bear’s nose, which is either a really fucking amazing coincidence that the bear was in exactly the right spot at exactly the right time or some sort of fictional shenanigans is going on. And who needs fictional shenanigans? Not me and certainly not you. Not with your face looking like that.

Now this snowflake suddenly make the hare very sad, and the bear very tired. Because snowflakes are how bears know they are due to go to sleep, and the hare, having a really good memory for a beast, knows this fact, despite probably only being born a few months previously. Maybe the bear and the hare have some sort of language whereby the bear explained his natural winter dormancy (it isn’t hibernation in the strictest sense, Wikipedia tells me. Look it up if you must) to the hare, although given the events that later transpire, this is unlikely. That, or the hare is a fucking asshole, and completely ignores the bear’s important information.

So yeah, the bear and the hare both look up and we pan past the trees to signify the passage of time. It is a little later, and the bear is not yet asleep. The hare leads the bear to a big tree that is being decorated with baubles and Christmas nonsense that the rest of the forest animals have somehow acquired, despite their natural instincts to spend their time on something worthwhile, like finding shelter from the cold, or foraging for food with which to survive the winter. These animals, again have no concept of Christmas, and in decorating a tree they are wasting valuable energy that could otherwise be used to prevent them dying.

Birds are attaching baubles to trees, some badgers are doing similar things, and owl is issuing orders to a hedgehog (fuck you owl!)
All fucking nonsense. Animals don’t do this sort of thing. And if they did then they’re fucking magic animals that should be in a circus or on Britain’s Got Talent, except that they aren’t eligible to be in Britain’s Got Talent, given that they are animals and also, there’s a fucking bear hanging around with them, making it very clear that they aren’t in Britain, or if they are in Britain, then fucking hell, there’s a wild bear fucking about in the woods. Shoot the fucker before it kills a baby!

Anyway, Lily whines the word ‘tired’ and the bear yawns. Perhaps she has some sort of influence over the bear’s mind, like some sort of witch. Or maybe this is just a highlight of the work done by editors. Probably the first one though.

Naturally, the bear fucks off, goes off to it’s papier maché cave to enter it’s dormancy period. The hare is a bit fed up, fuck knows why. It’s a hare. It should be happy that this massive indestructible predator has disappeared for a few months. Although, no, it wouldn’t be happy. Hare’s don’t know the concept of happiness as they are beasts, running purely on instinct. In fact, this animated display of his emotions is probably not a demonstration of it’s real thought process at all. It’s probably just concentrating on doing another shit. Hares do a lot of shit.

Anyway, time passes. The bear has lowered it’s heart rate and the sun sets and rises as it tends to do. Meanwhile, the rabbit has somehow managed to purchase (I assume, perhaps it has stolen the item, much like last year’s creepy John Lewis snowman) a gift, and wrap it in a pretty little package. He leaves the package at the entrance to the bear’s cave in the snow, obviously happy in the knowledge that the packaging is damp-proof and nobody will come along and go “ooh an inexplicable package on the floor, I’ll have that”.

So we cut back to all the animals from early mucking about around their impossibly decorated tree. A young fox unwraps what appears to be a ball given to it by a badger that appears to be smiling. Can badgers even smile? Does a badger even know what a smile means? Maybe it’s just about to snarl at the fox and bite it’s spine out. Badgers are really quite vicious, in case you didn’t know. They’re not all mushrooms and blokes of Queen sticking up for them and that. They would gladly eat you if you crashed your car into their territory and were unable to move or call for help. They’d probably wait until you died before eating you, or at least until you were unable to fight back or make a noise.

A squirrel receives an acorn as a gift from the order-giving owl from earlier. I assume the squirrel will be unimpressed with receiving an acorn as a gift, perhaps he considers this a racial stereotype on the owl’s part. Of course, this is nonsense, owls can’t be racist, this is a human concept. I just think it could have put more thought into the gift for the squirrel. Well, I say that, obviously it wouldn’t be able to put much more thought into the gift, as it is a bird and unable to make complex thoughts, never mind purchase or wrap presents, or even give orders to hedgehogs. In fact, the owl would at this time be swooping to capture and kill either one of the young foxes or the squirrel to eat. It’d probably be too good an opportunity to miss for the creature, but no. It just stands there. Like a twat, fucking owl.

The hare is still sad (doing a shit) that the bear hasn’t shown up. Which would obviously put a downer on the joyous events for the other animals (if any of the animals had emotions). “Oh Hare, we’ve gone to all this effort, can’t you be happy for us?” They’d ask, if they had communication abilities or sentient minds.

We cut to the hill, and the bear approaches. The tree is glowing, either from an inexplicable light source, or the sun reflecting in the baubles added to the tree earlier or shining through the tree coincidentally. The bear sees the light and looks all happy and that (again, it can’t look happy. It’s a bear), the hare sees him and does a shit. Hare climbs onto the bear’s back again, and the animals surround the bear, waggling various bits of festive shit at him. Oh, they’re all happy and that. Bunch of anthropomorphised wankers.

We see the means by which the bear was able to wake up, unwrapped at the entrance to his cave. It is an alarm clock. Now clearly, the hare must have had an outside influence, explaining the concept of time, the workings of the alarm clock and the setting of the alarm, as this is a very traditional style alarm clock and would be impossible to use by the clawed hare. But anyway, obvious logic aside, the alarm clock has somehow woken the bear up despite being boxed in a damp-proof package and most likely completely inaudible to the dormant bear.

Also, the alarm clock is set at 7:48. Now, it’s Christmas, we assume. At 7:48, AM or PM, it will be dark. It’s daylight outside. The hare obviously had no idea how to set the correct time on the clock, this may explain why it was confused by the delayed arrival of the bear.

Now the bear is awake, it’s dormancy period interrupted, it could well be guaranteed a frosty death, unless of course it eats the hare. And that fucking owl. Yeah, eat the owl.

So, the animals sit around the tree, not eating each other or really behaving like animals. The caption reads ‘Give Someone A Christmas They’ll Never Forget’ and we pan up to the John Lewis logo, despite not seeing any information about the products and services offered by John Lewis. I don’t think I’ve ever shopped in a John Lewis, I assume they sell various ornaments and such. Probably candlesticks or some shit. Fuck knows. (or overpriced chairs, purely so I can have a blog title that rhymes) All I know is it reportedly cost them £7million to put this ad on during it’s own ad break in the middle of The X-Factor, despite most people having already seen it leaked and instantly parodied the day before on YouTube.

Anyway, fuck John Lewis, fuck the bear and the hare and fuck the owl.

And that was 45 minutes of typing because there is nothing on TV and I ran out of Candy Crush Lives.

Merry Christmas.

Twitter shares go on sale shortly, priced at $26 a share. Now of course we all know twitter is completely pointless (awesome, but pointless) but this got me thinking…

What can I get for $26 (or £16 if what google tells me is true) that is more pointless than twitter?
Turns out quite a bit…

1. This Whoopee Cushion Costume.
LINK!

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…because there are probably easier ways to get girls to sit on you, rather than pretending to be a farting novelty from back in the days when The Beano was funny.

2. Gary’s Adventures In Wonderland.
LINK!
…yes, for the same price as a share in twitter, these guys will go and CTRL-V your name into countless works of classic literature. Because nothing says “I’m cool” more than actually being Dorothy as she goes on her witch killing rampage or being Peter Pan without ending up involved in Operation Yewtree.

3. Four copies of Jersey Shore Shark Attack.
LINK!

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…one copy for yourself, one for your mum, one to hand to a random stranger on the street and a spare in case you accidentally use the disc as a coaster of put it in one of those machines that fires clay pigeons. Which sometimes happens with such examples of high quality modern cinema.

4. A Spongebob Squarepants Onesie.
LINK!
…for when you really, absolutely, definitely don’t want ladies to play with your penis.

5. A baked beans pan and spoon.
LINK!
…because you can’t use a normal pan for beans or bob them in a bowl in the microwave for two minutes. No, you need a Heinz Baked Beans branded Saucepan and spoon. But woe betide anyone who attempts to use the pan to cook anything other than Heinz baked beans in it. It probably explodes or something. Well, I say probably. It probably won’t. In fact, I’m pretty sure it definitely won’t. Still, I’m not brave enough to experiment.

6. A cat Scratching DJ Deck.
LINK!

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…well, nuff said.
Feel free to make cat based dj name puns in the comments. Or keep it to yourself. Actually, yeah. To yourself.

7. Bunting.
LINK!
…make your room into a recreation of a 1950s village fete with this handy bunting. Yes, you too could be the owner of a bunch of triangles on a string. Why I found this on site touting itself as a place to buy gifts is beyond me.
“Happy birthday nan, I bought you some bunting!”
“Fuck you Timothy and fuck your bunting. I tried to drown you at birth but the police stopped me.”

And so, yeah, that’s my fingers sore and my amazon search-based recommendations ruined for a good long while. Have fun spending your money on pointless stuff, and feel free to give your own suggestions and ideas in the comments below. But no cat dj puns. Glad we cleared that up.

…in which Bruce Willis doesn’t just save the world, he saves ITV’s Saturday Night Schedule for ever…

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For all you geek blogger types wanting a pic to accompany your Anti-Affleck fury rant…

Of course, if you really do appreciate my efforts, here’s my Amazon wish list.

Don’t ask, don’t get, yeah? No you fuck off.