Tag Archives: stuff like that

You People, and all that

Right, now the Olympics are pretty much done people can go back to talking shit about nothing like they did before and we can all be happy and calm and normal once more instead of frighteningly patriotic and revealing how quickly and easily they are drawn into a nonsensical fervour about some people who were born in a particular place* doing some stuff.

If we were in the midst of a financial meltdown that could still ruin the lives of many people the world over I would be worried that this inability for people to function as anything other than a hive mind could lead to some drastic, mass-lunacy either in support of or against those who have caused the world’s economy to be fucked. But we’re not, so we oh wait.

I’m being slightly facetious, though only slightly, as I am tired and hungover and enjoy being exaggeratedly cynical about You People and the Things You Like. It’s fun to highlight the fact that I don’t blindly accept enjoyment from the same things You do, as if this makes me better than You in some way when it clearly does not.

Then I’ll harp on about not judging people for what they like or some other shit, then I’ll watch wrestling even though I’m 29 and I’ll dress like I’m six years old and I’ll have a mild crisis of self at 11pm on a Sunday but hey it’s okay I’m suffering from this Bangover so I’m going to cure it with fried chicken.

Sorry body. I’ll fix you up and make you svelte again at some point.

Sorry wallet, but to be honest we haven’t been on speaking terms in years.

What the fuck am I on about? BYE.

*Or, as the Daily Mail enjoyed pointing out, people who were born in another particular place and went to another particular place and were given some legal documents allowing them to be officially accepted into the latter particular place.

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Kinect: THE FUTURE (it’s not)

I currently have The Future Of Videogames here in my house. I mean, technically I’m well behind the times as it’s Kinect, and Kinect has been out for ages. So it’s not really the future, more the now. But you know what I mean.

Anyway, it’s not the future. Something I have to move my sofa almost onto my bed in order to be able to play is not the future of gaming. I like just picking up a pad and jabbing the ‘shoot foreign men’ button. Speaking of which, I don’t want to use my body as a controller. I want to use a controller as a controller.

I don’t want to have to jump around in my room just to play some shitty game. I want to press X to stab the brown person who speaks funny. I don’t want to bump and clatter around all the stuff in my not-too-big flat.

Which leads me on to: I don’t like jumping and moving much because my floorboards make noise and, while it hasn’t happened in two years of living here, I still get the fear my idiot housemate will complain. That all comes back to a pathological fear stretching back to the insane scrubbers who lived next to us in Preston.

I digress.

I mean, Dance Central 2 is great and I had a lot of fun doing the boogie on down on my own in my pyjamas, but… not all the time. It’s not the future. It’s part of now.

Can you tell I’m having to play a Kinect game right now? Yeah, that. It’s alright. I just don’t like having to move even after I’ve done my exercise for the day. Ah, laziness.

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Can I write for South Park please? Thanks.

I watched the Comedy Central mini-documentary thing on South Park earlier. Basically it offers an example of what it’s like creating an episode of the show – compared to other animated shows, which take months to make an episode, South Park takes six days. To do everything.

That’s something worth documentary…ising, I’d say.

What struck me as odd, watching it and seeing Matt & Trey doing their thang, was how much more it made me like them. I already like them an absurd amount, but watching them stress their way through the Human CentiPad episode damn near left me awe-struck.

My mancrush has grown.

It wasn’t until watching the doc I realised how few and far between their appearances in things like this, in interviews and whatever else are. They’ve never slapped themselves on everything and anything just to get their faces out there and voices heard. Dare I say it, they actually seem to have integrity.

And the bit where they’re talking about dropping acid then going to the Oscars is brilliant. So much disdain for Hollywood.

[wistful sigh]

Anyway, the most interesting part was clearly the writer’s room. I want to work there. I want to be in that room, shooting the shit and trying to make people laugh so these ideas get put in a stupid show that I genuinely love. I’m guessing you just send in a CV and they hire you, right?

What’s that? You have to have experience and a proven comedy track record? Baws. Ah well, I’ll just do my own thing. Who wants to write a sketch show with me?

I’m not joking.

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WARNING: THIS IS AN ADVERT WITH A TOY INSIDE

I saw some adverts just now, and they almost managed to be as stupid as the one where a scotch egg has sex with a bottle of orange pop. I mean, not quite, because that’s physically impossible. But these were some dumb elements to adverts that I feel the need to write about because I definitely had so many good blog ideas today. Here we go:

Warning: Toy Inside
It seems children – and parents – these days need to be both reminded that Kinder Eggs exist and that they include toys in them. I shit thee not, the small print on the advert says ‘Warning: toy inside’. In a Kinder Egg. The entire point of a Kinder Egg being that they have toys inside them. I see no warning on shampoo ads saying ‘Danger: shampoo contained within’, or make-up adverts that say ‘Attention: tested on gibbon anuses’

McDonald’s does KFC food, Burger King does McDonald’s food
So ‘should have failed a few years ago, actually massively succeeded’ McDonald’s has taken inspiration from the militaristic poultry emporium by bringing out fried chicken wraps. They sound like the most boring things in the world. And probably are. As for the eternal, royal competition, Burger King has decided to start selling chicken McNuggets.

Where’s the imagination in the most creative of industries, fast food? WHERE I AM SHOCKED OH MY GOD etc.

Malibu think people are stupid enough to do a dance they’ve cynically created for the purpose of an advert
And you know what? People are stupid enough.

This is an advertisement
When this has to be pointed out on an advert you know the world is a much dumber place than it has to be. Le sigh.

Yeah, this was all in the space of a single advert break, by the way.

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Phase two of exerciseageddon: nearly initiated

Today I have taken a further step into insanity. While I haven’t actually done any real exercise in about a month – possibly more – I do keep telling myself I will do more. I even threatened to join a gym. But then I thought better of that, as going somewhere for a bunch of large angry men to judge me isn’t something I want to pay a monthly fee to do. I can do it for free many places.

Anyway, I opted for the route all men take at some point: I have bought stuff so I can lift and press and pull and whatever at home. It will accompany my exercise bike and the thing that kicked all this shit off, EA Sports Active (2!) in being used for a bit then forgotten.

On the other hand, I might actually use it all in the second stage. First stage was shedding the blubber, a lot of which (but not all) is gone now. Second stage is to make one arm absolutely gigantic, while the other arm stays the same – weedy and small.

Then, once I have said MASSIVE ARM I can go around the world solving crime with the arm, because I’ve just decided it will have some kind of super crime-detecting power. I don’t know – it’s really good at picking up evidence or something.

Yes, I’ve been playing L.A. Noire.

Well, it will either bring me the recognition I deserve through a life of superheroish crime detection or it just won’t happen, I’ll use the stuff once and then forget about it. £50+ wasted.

Damn.

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GENTLEMEN: THE QUEEN

I don’t particularly care much for the royal family. Am I supposed to upper caseify that? I don’t care, because I’m totally like a rebel and shit. This whole bollocks about the wedding is, as I’m sure to many other people, nothing of actual interest – it’s just a free day off.

It’s bollocks that we’re meant to actually care about this in any real way, and it’s naturally just being used as a marketing ploy by every fucking snake in the grass marketing prick in the world.

Though I do want some royal wedding tat. You know where to send it, kids.

But I’m not completely against them there royals existing. I mean, I see very little point in them beyond encouraging tourism. I do not buy into the notion of tradition at all, but then that’s just crazy old me and my wacky ways of not… buying into the whole notion of tradition.

Traditions change, after all, so why are any traditions more important than others? Why are ones still ongoing more important than ones that were forgotten? It’s an arbitrary value judgement on something that – a lot of the time – just doesn’t matter.

I put the royal family in that bracket. But I don’t actively want them to disappear, unless they do something I really disagree with*.

Still, it’s not like I care enough to demand they are dissolved and/or killed. Plus my Union Flag with a picture of the Queen on it was one of the best things I have ever bought for any of my rooms. Gentlemen: the Queen!

Yes, I’m watching that thing on Channel 4 right now. And yes, it’s rubbish.

*Harry dressing as a Nazi was funny, as is most of the stuff Prince Phillip says.

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Operation Be Like The Cool Kids: Phase 1

I apologise in advance to my ma, who will see this and react in the same way as when she saw my existing tattoo (that I’d had for approximately three years by that point. Nice to know my own mother NEVER EVEN LOOKS AT MY ARMS). Her reaction, by the by, was something like “whaaaa?”

I am cool. I totally have ‘ink’, as we cool kids call it. It is a silly little thing on the back of my arm, but I still think it’s quite good. It’s certainly not cool, though some people have remarked it is (it isn’t, even though I just said I’m cool), but it is most definitely unique. This is a key factor in what I am about to talk about… NOW.

I want my left arm tattooed more. I have always wanted this done, I have never had it done. For some reason I always wanted some shit down to about baseball shirt-length on the forearm. Maybe so I could still get a job in a bank, I don’t know. There are some reasons I have never had it done – laziness, lack of money, more laziness – but the one that stands out is the design.

I want something that looks good, that isn’t on the arm of every other monkey walking this planet and that means something to me on a personal level. This is where I fail. What means something to me? Looking at this blog I’d have to get a tattoo of some clementines, videogames, Bukowski quotes and a fair bit of swearing. Oh, and my face of course.

Then there’s having an artistic enough mind to design it. I came up with my existing tattoo, but it’s some dots and dashes in a circle. Any gibbon with an ounce of sense (or lack thereof, when it comes to me) could have ‘designed’ that. It would need to be something actually done with skill and flair, which are elements I cannot provide.

Basically I’m just thinking out loud here. I want something done, I want my arm to look bitchin’ for about 20 minutes until I get bored of it (and until I’m really old and it looks ‘well gay lah’ as the scousers would say). The arguments against that parenthesis-ified bit don’t work on me, by the way. I’m going to look haggard when/if I’m old, so what? I’m going to be shitting myself in public, who cares if I have some faded, wrinkly designs on my arm?

Submit your designs to the usual address.

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