Tag Archives: shit like that

New York: The Definitive Review (7/10)

I just realised I never got around to doing this, so here you go: my ultimate, tell-all and take no prisoners review of the city so GREAT they named it twice. That’s New York, by the way. Not Manchester, where I am currently freezing my nips off. This place shouldn’t have been named once, as far as I’m concerned. Though I do still like Chorlton.

Anyway, that place on the anti-west coast of America. My first issue with it is the size – not just the sprawling, square (tidy) mess that is the city and its layout, but the actual height of everything. Why couldn’t everyone involved in building things in New York just calm down a bit? What’s wrong with making everything a bungalow? At least that way I won’t have to crane my neck up so much I don’t see the street urchins at ground level robbing me of all my pocketly possessions (1x fluff, 2x more fluff). It would also mean less lifts inside these massive buildings that have to propel you at just-about-lightspeed to get you to the 36th floor in a timely fashion. They’re just not good for hangovers, guys. You didn’t design the city – aesthetically, at least – with hangovers in mind. And that’s an oversight.

An undersight, though – yes that’s my new dictionary opposite of an oversight – is the food. Now granted, I lucked out in being ferried around to some reasonably fancy places, but I did get to go to a deli where the insane woman told us stories about Robbie Coltrane and Helen Mirren and my brisket sandwich was big enough to feed double-me. Though I forgot to collect the wrapped up half as I was too busy dying inside. I also had a great burger. I would like to return to New York to sample the food properly, as I think being babysat so much isn’t particularly conductive to a ‘real’ food experience. I have no idea why this has gone half-genuine here, sorry.

Shower? Well mine was fine. Good, even. But a chum had one that was long enough for me to lie down in and had two actual showers in it, so I can’t help but feel a bit let down there, New York. Bed was very comfy and massive though. Big enough to fit 3.42 me on it, at a quick guess, and soft enough to that only 12.5% of each me would remain uncomfortable in some way. This therefore makes me think all beds in New York must be of the same quality. MUST BE.

I didn’t get to see much of the city in all honesty, bar Times Square which was a bit shit. Not exactly my idea of a good place when there’s a 20 metre tall advert for Piers “Cunt” Morgan’s new show on CNN staring at me. Or the tossers who hassle you. Hey I am walking here, etc. I’d like to go back, hopefully the second time without massive illness, with the ability to explore and with other changes I can’t be bothered going into.

It was going to be a different number, but then I got some cheap MS points from Zavvi thanks to a freebie 15% off code which levelled me out, so it’s back to a resounding: 7/10

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Oh piss off, weather

I do wish there was a genuinely accurate manner with which we could predict the weather – something that wasn’t about as accurate as guessing, or only marginally more accurate than forever saying “tomorrow’s weather will be the same as today’s” (both true, the internet told me so). While it would be nice to know that in four years time it will be 23 degrees on the 17th of June, that isn’t what concerns me right now.

No, what concerns me is getting to Gatwick airport and seeing that they are still running flights, and not intermittently cancelling the route I’m supposed to be flying on Thursday. I keep on checking the weather for some clues as to what will be going on in the area that day, but I know it’s pointless. On average (again, internet), weatherpeople get their predictions right 30-40% of the time. I am no longer a gambling man, bar the brief foray back to the glory days with fake money at work’s Christmas party, so those odds don’t really appeal. As far as I’m concerned, that’s a 60-70% chance the prediction that it will be ‘partially cloudy’ and ‘between 0 and 1 degree through the day’ is utter bollocks.

But I went through this exact same thing last year – I ended up getting lucky, my flight was delayed by about an hour but I got to my destination (the same one again) and shitloads of other people had their flights cancelled. It was similar weather last year. I was catching similar trains, going to the same airport and blah de blah. Probably the only things different are I’m fatter now, I let the hair on my upper lip grow for some ungodly reason and I have Tiny Laptop to entertain me.

So yes, TL;DR: I really bloody hope Anna’s flight tomorrow gets her home okay, and I really bloody hope my flight on Thursday gets me out there okay.

I don’t much care if it knobs up on the way back. Extra holiday!

This isn’t an interesting blog, I’m aware. I couldn’t actually think of anything else because I’m worried. Stupid brain. I do not like uncertainty in these kinds of situations.

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Overly-complex = bad?

I had a bit of a dilemma today, related – as the most important things are – to putting a number on the end of some words. It got me thinking*- what is a reasonable excuse with which to mark down a game? Obviously there are reasons like “it’s shit”, or “it’s broken and shit”, or “I had a headache when I was playing it, hence it was shit”.

But then there are other, less black and white reasons. The one I encountered today being that the game was rather complex. I’m not averse to complexity. In fact, it often helps the experience, lending it depth and adding to the longevity of the whole package.

But then there are times when it just gets in the way. It stops you outright from getting to the tasty, fun centre of the matter and truly enjoying it for what it is. But you can see the delicious middle bit. It’s there, taunting you and laughing at your face. It’s there showing you that the whole package is, objectively speaking, one of true quality.

But you can’t actually experience that. You can’t get real enjoyment out of it. Does that make it a bad game? When it’s clearly not a bad game? When it’s actually a good game? Is it a bad game because the layman – ME – can’t get his head around it?

Ah, the difficulties of doing real work for a living. You doctors, firemen and soldiers don’t know how hard it really is.

*I had a lie down and felt better, don’t worry.


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Do you believe in Jesus?

“Hey mate, do you believe in Jesus Christ?”


“Why not?”

“First, I’m a Pastafarian. Second, I don’t believe in an invisible sky magician who doesn’t actually do anything apart from allow the suffering of the people he apparently loves to continue. Also I don’t hate gay people. Well, not that much. I don’t believe you’re supposed to shun menstruating women, as mental as they are. I like to covet my neighbour’s ox. We don’t need religious doctrine to enforce morality, seeing as we’re not stupid and in medieval times anymore. I don’t believe, if there was a god, he would say “it’s either believe in me or burn in eternal fire forever”, as that’s just not very nice – which would be out of character at the very least. There are other things, but I don’t want to sound like Richard Dawkins as he’s a bit of a prick. Also I need some pasta.”

At least, that’s what I would have said if I’d actually stopped walking. Which I didn’t.

To be fair, you have to admire the balls of the chap – no matter what way look at it, it’s a bold opening gambit to just hit someone with in the middle of the street. In Bournemouth he’ll probably be fine, but I’d worry for the guy in somewhere like Manchester. He’d be dead within the hour.

Though at least then he’d be with Jesus, I suppose.

I don’t understand the mindset of people who will approach you with nonsense like this, and this includes chuggers. At first I would simply avoid these louts who pretend to do good work, but now I have no qualms walking right past with a dismissive “no”. Well done, people who get jobs standing in the street demanding money off me, you’ve ruined the idea of charity for me.

You’ll be the ones crying when I make my millions and none of it goes to Oxfam*.

*None of it was going to them anyway.


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