Monthly Archives: November 2011


Arrested Development is now officially, actually coming back. It’s been known for a while now, but the story’s been featured on the BBC and as we all know nothing is true until the BBC talks about it. Which is why my overall knowledge is lacking in certain areas. Areas the BBC doesn’t talk about. Like how popular hammocks are in the West Indies.

Sort it out BBC – I need my knowledge.

Anyway, this is not a cheap trick (illusion), though it did require an intervention where fans of the show wrote about it constantly while shouting “CHECK OUT BANNER, FOX!” until they got the message. And now it’s coming back.

And I’m happy.

Normally I’d be worried, because nothing that comes back is ever as good as before. But then I remember this week when I realised that new Futurama is just as good as old Futurama, meaning that entire logic bomb is a dud, has not detonated, is incorrect (bomb). Arrested Development can come back and can be as good as it was before.

It will be as good as it was before.

There’s a definite end in sight this time, there’s no desperation on the part of anyone to keep it going beyond the series and movie – they know how much they have to work with, they know what they can do in that time. There’s no rush, there’s no need to please network execubots, there’s no need to pander. They can just get on with it.

As such, I think it’ll be a resounding success. I might be wrong though, and there’s every chance I’m drunk right now.

(I’m not drunk, it just seems like I am because of all this positivity)

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Surprise, surprise

Surprises are great, aren’t they? I know people who don’t like them, even when it’s expressly stated that they will be a Good and Pleasant surprise of the Great variety. I still try my damndest to avoid the football scores at the weekend so I can be surprised by them on Match Of The Day.

I’m aware I shouldn’t post this while MOTD is still on, because someone will ruin the Everton score for me. BAD SURPRISE.

But surprises are good. Mystery is good. Not knowing and having something pop up unexpectedly is good.

Like, say, if someone was to get me this and randomly send it to me without telling me about it I would be quite happy. Because surprises are great, especially when they mean I get something out of it. Especially when that something is a coffee machine with ‘keen intelligence’ (it’s Skynet).

Granted, there are such things as bad surprises, but that’s not the point I’m making. The point I’m making is that I want that coffee machine so someone needs to buy it for me before I kill you all.

Also I’m nearly out of milk. No intelligent coffee machine, barely any milk. This is the worst life ever.

And the coffee machine is out of stock. Goddddd. BAD SURPRISE.

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TP for my bunnnnghole

It’s good to be reminded that sometimes – sometimes – Vice is a good magazine. I mean, it was always better than a lot of other shit I would read (not buy – read) at uni, like the NME (read I did not buy the NME read read read and even then I didn’t read it properly god I hate the NME). But it dallied with wankerishness far too much for me to ever really get on board.

But now they gone done put Beavis and Butthead on the front cover and have a pretty good interview with Mike Judge in the mag. This makes me happy, as I like Beavis and Butthead and I like Mike Judge, even if Idiocracy wasn’t as good as it should have been. Still a fine idea on paper, though.

He’s a man who nails the ‘normal’ person thing quite well – he seems to get and appreciate the fact that inanity and boredom is a huge part of everyday life. While his output tends to be something of a rallying cry against accepting your lot, like in Office Space, or stupidity in general, like B&B or Idiocracy (and to some extent King of the Hill), there’s never anything in what he makes that makes you, the viewer, feel like a worse person if you do accept your lot or you are stupid.

I have no idea what I’m on about anyway, I’m stupid and accept my lot. I love Office Space. I’m just going to put some Youtube clips here because I don’t know what else to write for this, which just be glad I didn’t write yesterday while drunk.

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Na na na na na wasting your time, like how that Green Day song goes

How many of you waste holiday? As in, time off work. What do you waste it on? I really want to know this, as I am considering booking time off work in order to waste it effectively. My choices of how to waste it are limited to a few options, which I will list… in a bit. Maybe now.

No, not now. First I talk a bit about something else, like holiday. I haven’t taken it as regularly as I did last year, but I have taken it in big chunks. Damn Things To Do Around The World. I do, however, want to go back to Amsterdam, because Amstergoddamn that place was good. Also Groezrock, but not camping – in an RV YES I SAID RV. Anyway, I promised a list and I know you’re all on the edge of your collective seat.

So I’m not going to do a list just yet. Nah, I’ll talk about something else else for a bit. I haven’t even bothered with a long weekend in an age. I should probably do that. An extra few hours of sleep in a Friday morning is something I could do with. He says on a Thursday afternoon when he doesn’t have tomorrow off work. Damn it. LIST TIME! What I could waste my time on with time off:

  • Play videogames.
  • Read the (easy) books I ordered today.
  • Play more videogames.
  • Come up with longer lists of things to waste my time off work on.

That’s about it, really. Suggestions welcome. Like ‘making a fucking epic sandwich’, or something.

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Woop de doo

Today you get a photo of an 84-year-old woman who’s apparently just been pepper sprayed.

But yeah, she was probably shouting at a policeman and he probably felt threatened or like he was in danger. She deserved it.

Other than that, I’m all out of caring for this, the 676th entry to the blog.

Have a great fucking day.

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Shooting Stars cancelled? BOOOOOO

So after about ten billion years of somehow managing to exist, the BBC has finally cancelled Shooting Stars. I sort of expected it, but I didn’t really think it would be because they can’t afford it. I expected it to be deemed ‘not fit for some bullshit demographic’ or whatever other nonsense they want to come up with.

Small mercies.

For you see, Shooting Stars is one of the best things that has ever been. Just as Vic Reeves and Bob Mortimer are two of the best people that have ever been. Seeing as they front(ed) the show, it fits that it is/was great and I love it.

But then, I’m part of the problem as I didn’t really watch much of the latest series. Sorry. My fault. Well, that and whoever it is that’s taking  all the money off the BBC.

Ah, Shooting Stars. The Fruit Drop Challenge. “Who let a Predator in?” Vic’s dancing to that ‘free from desire song’. Johnny Vegas proving, once more, he’s really funny. George Dawes being shit, apart from sometimes. Jarvis “The Weed In Tweed” Cocker. Greasy 50s binman. Dove From Above.

So much in my head. So much in the formative years. So many reasons why I am freely and openly described as weird all come back to Vic & Bob, and a lot come back to Shooting Stars specifically. I still rub my thighs to indicate attraction – mock or otherwise. I still love quickfire round questions like “name a junction on the M4” (“17” “Ahh, sorry – it was 12”).

I may have lapsed in recent years, but I never really moved on. I’m sorry Shooting Stars – I will miss you dearly.


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Mead, meat, Vikings and cartoons

I am seriously behind on my cartoon-watching these days. I still spend half my time singing the theme tune to Doug, rather than looking up what it is that makes the kids tick these days.

Also what makes me tick, because cartoons are ace and shut up if you disagree. Unless it’s Pokemon. Pokemon is and always has been shit. I’m the kind of person who would go to the Pokemon Shop in Japan and say that all the time they were there (clue: I actually did that).

But yeah, I have Adventure Time – the one I won’t shut up about the pilot episode of – ready to watch and I’ve never bothered. I know it’s brilliant even without putting it on, I just haven’t been fussed. There’s other stuff too, but you can’t expect me to have thought of it beforehand, especially not when this blog is just filler…

I mean… fillet ‘o’ fantastic. Yes, that is what I was going to say.

So this is my pledge: by the end of this week I will have sat down and watched more than just the (excellent) pilot of Adventure Time and the (excellent) first episode proper of Adventure Time. I will also stop using ‘ladder’ as my go-to word on Scribblenauts, and I will actually eat something without red meat in it this week, as I seem to have gone red meat mental.

Must be all the Skyrim making me go back to my Viking roots.

Note: I don’t think I actually have Viking roots. Though I do like mead. And meat.

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New massive dogs wot I dun want

I no longer want an Irish Wolf Hound. Why would I want a dog made to kill wolves when I could get one made to kill bears?

Thanks to Reddit, obviously, I have learned of the existence of two brilliant-looking breeds of dog today and I must have them both. First up, though in second place on the I Want list, is the Tibetan Mastiff.

Now, I wanted an English Mastiff, but look at these buggers. They’re clearly amazing and were created to be owned by me, even if they are about 10 times bigger than me. I mean, I wouldn’t want to clean up their dumps, but there you go.

And it would make people stay the fuck away from my shit, yo.


But top of the new I Want That Dog list is the Caucasian Shepherd Dog. Just… yeah. It used to be used to hunt bears. HUNT BEARS. Mainly because to kill a bear you should fight it with something that might as well be a bear.


Not that I have anything against bears. In fact, I kind of want a bear too. Though I’m not sure if the bear would be able to live with Clive the bear-hunting dog.

Suppose there’s only one way to find out, really. I’ll just not bother telling my landlord – it’ll be easy to hide two dogs that are bigger than me and a bear. EASY.

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The salty hangover

I awoke this morning with something I haven’t knowingly experienced before. I have experienced it, as… well, I just clearly have. There’s no way I haven’t. The more I think about it, the more I realise that yes, I did experience it but I always ignored it, didn’t notice it or it just didn’t generally register because I felt so shitty all the time anyway.

The pizza hangover.

I did not drink yesterday. It’s why I’m so thirsty all the time (copyright Rik Mayall). But I had no booze. I had some coffee, some tea, some Diet Coke (sorry), but no alcohol. I had a pizza, as I had forgotten to bother cooking (Skyrim) and Papa John’s had mailed me some stupid offer (marketing works).

I had a massive pizza.

I have been eating healthily for the last year – at least in general. I have lost over three stone. I do not now have takeaway three nights running, as I might have done on more than one occasion in Leeds. And Preston. And Manchester.

And Bournemouth.

As such, I have been what some might call ‘reasonably healthy-feeling’, to the point where it’s just normal to feel normal now. Eating a full pizza to yourself, apparently, has some negative effects come morning time.

I awoke feeling genuinely like I had hangover, sans-nausea. The incredibly dry mouth, the painful head, the lack of balance (less hangover, more natural Dransfield) – it all pointed to a night on the tiles.

But it was just a pizza. A mere (massive) pizza (also some potato wedges because SHUT UP THAT’S WHY).

To be honest, it’s done quite a good job of convincing me to not do that again. I mean, if they make you feel like that just by eating one, what the fuck is in them? Pizza people: start lacing your food with something like heroin and we can talk again.

For now? I’m off them. Until next time I go to Leeds and get a Cano, obviously.

0 of 14 catch up entries to go. Thank fuck.

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It’s Total Nerdlinger time!

I covered my confusion and irritation over a year ago – back in a time when I actually bothered doing those images with every post – relating to how actual, real life people in the games industry hadn’t done the most basic rite of passage: the all-nighter.

Well I put it to you now – I’m throwing out a call to arms. I’m demanding it. I’m asking you nicely. For the sake of all that is Good and Right in the world, you need to do one. And the perfect tool with which to do it was released the other day. Yesterday, in fact. I’m getting my days mixed up because I DON’T KNOW WHAT I AM ANYMORE.

The barrel of nerdy delight that is Skyrim can eat up more time than most other games I know – aside from maybe Football Manager or World Of Warcraft – so it’s perfect for the cause. Join me in the world of Tamriel as we hunt mammoths and eat their trunks, run after rabbits for a full, real life 10 minutes, run away as soon as a giant spider pops up, steal from an old woman then sell her stuff to local criminals, accept cheese as a gift (also: in the game), hit orcs with hammers, climb mountains just because they’re there but not have to be a posh sod with plums in his mouth or risk your actual life to do it, steal a bit more, rob your ex-partner’s corpse blind as soon as they are killed before dropping a shield on their (dead) head just to make yourself laugh, get massively sidetracked, not actually play the ‘proper’ game for the 10 hours you’ve put into it so far and just not care, steal a horse then kill it for its hide so you can make some natty leather boots, try in vain (PUN) to find some vampires…

I like Skyrim. I’m going to be talking about little else in coming weeks/months. If you’re not a fan of that, The Rock has my back:

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