12th December 2010
As I type, we are two hours away from the start of “The X Factor 2010” final. I’ll admit I stopped watching it a few weeks back, in fact the last person I remember being knocked out was Laura White.
This year’s X Factor (or #xfactor for my lovely Twitter fans) has had no “heroes” but has had it’s fair share of villains. There’s been no-one anyone can really like this year, however there has been plenty of people to hate. Matt Cardle, Rebecca and Wand Erection (to give them their proper name) remain in for tonight’s race to see who, assuming none of the multitude of childish usurpation plans come to fruition, will be Christmas number one.
Yes, these “Get the Trashmen Surfing Bird Song to Christmas Number 1” or “Cage Against The Machine” campaigns are ridiculously childish. Last year’s “Killing in the Name Of…” campaign was the perfect example people standing up and going “Yeah, I’m not having some big record company making money out of me, instead, genius that we are, we’ll give our money to whoever represents that other band I like! What do you mean that’s the same company? Err…ok…it’s not about that then, it’s about the song! YEAH FUCK YOU I WON’T DO WHAT YOU TOLD ME! Oh I already have it…on CD…from quite few years ago…”. To be fair it worked, “Killing in the name of…” was Christmas number one, but the people who were going to buy whoever won the X Factor, still did so! All it did was make Radio 1 and a few other commercial radio station play a horrendously truncated and edited version of the Rage Against Machine hit, which of course followed…yes you guessed it Joe McElderberry’s “The Climb”, they played both songs! Who wins? You decided!
I got slightly sidetracked there, back to the “X Factor”, tonight’s final, yeah, to be quite honest, I really couldn’t care less who wins, or if they get to number one next week, which they will. Be honest. But whatever the outcome, the increasing reliance of the media on social networking site Twitter, will mean there will undoubtedly be some sort of controversy.
It’s got to the point where the phrase “X Factor fans are outraged” has become synonymous with “X Factor fans are still falling for it! THE IDIOTS”. I’m sorry but if you’re daft enough to vote in one of these “talent” shows and believe you’re vote counts for nothing more than the losers taxi fare home, then you’re a fool. Even more foolish are the ones who know this outright, but at least they’re voting “ironically”.
“I’m voting to keep Wagner in because, yeah, that’d screw them up! Imagine if he won!” NOOO! You’re an idiot! The X Factor has got you from both sides. My advice to anyone who feels they may vote in one of these shows is this, when the voting number comes up on screen, take your phone, place it in your mouth, done that? OK, now swallow, now normal procedure is to choke to death now, and this has two effects, firstly, you’re not going to lose any money voting in what is already a done deal and secondly, you’ve done the gene pool a favour by removing yourself from it.
Either way, like I was saying whoever wins tonight, be it…one of them…remember this. It’s all a game, and you’re losing, badly. SO SHUT UP and STOP PLAYING!
Sunday, 12 December 2010
Thursday, 4 November 2010
Blasts from the pasts
I’ve experimented with different forms of writing before, I’ve tried, allsorts of different outlets for my “creativity”. Be it; scripts, long rambling rants that actually go no-where, scripts, blogs, articles...the list goes on.
Many writers have a back catalogue of random false starts or half thought out ideas that never see the light of day, and I am no different, so here I present a small (very small) collection of things I found in a notebook when I visited my dads earlier today.
Some of the things that follow were going to go on and be bigger things, other were just random silly “brainfarts” thatI felt I should write down, so here they are slightly edited for spelling and in one or two occasions just to round it off nicely.
Extract One:
We take certain things in life for granted. Things like reading from left to right, or the corner shop shuts at nine, even though it says ten in the window. That most ITV sitcoms aren’t worth the time or effort. These little things occur daily in our lives and we just accept them, twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, fifty two weeks a year.
We fail to notice the fundamental things, but would we notice if these things started to change? Would we care? Let’s say, for example, your front door started to open outwards instead of inwards. The microwave “BEEP”’s instead of “Ping”ing, like you’re used to. Not major changes I know, but that’s just where it starts.
That was to be beginning of a short story or maybe a novel about a man who’s life seems to be changing bit by bit around him. I’m still working on a variation on the same idea, but I am developing it into a sitcom instead.
Also present in this notebook is the start of a little diatribe into...well, actually I don’t know what I wanted to do with it but I think it started off rather nicely...
Extract Two:
The thing about people is...we know too many of them. It causes great offence when we forget someone’s name. It causes even greater offence when we fail to recognise that we even met the person in the first place!
We sometimes rely on other people to guide us through these problems, but this often causes more offence than just asking, “I’m sorry, you are?”. At least you can shrug that question off as a joke!
Like I said I didn’t really know where that was going, and maybe there was more to it.
Now, those of you who know me as a writer will know that poetry isn’t my bag, but just to prove that I am a walking contradiction, here are two of my efforts...
Poem 1: The Little Pink Box (More of a list)
If I had a little box,
With a Ribbon tied in a pink bow.
What would I put in that Box?
I think I know!
Holocaust deniers,
Arrogance,
Ant and Dec,
Catherine Tate,
Nazi’s
Fascists,
Barry Fucking Scott and his cunting Cillit Bang!
S Club 7,
America,
People with no sense of irony,
Piety,
Golf,
Chris Evans,
People who sell drugs to children,
Children,
The Fucking Frog Bastard Chorus,
Chewed Pens
Phone Bills and Banks,
No Smoking Signs,
Star Trek,
Paedophiles,
Rapists,
Hoodies,
Scallies,
Chavs,
Emo’s
Heather Mills,
Instruction manuals that have every language EXCEPT the one you fucking speak!
And do you know what?
I’d throw the fucking box in the ocean!
Poem 2: Davina McCall Ate My Family
The telly ate my family,
Big Brother, I’m A Celebrity, Dancing on Ice, media cannibals the lot of them,
The hollow shell that was once my family,
The vacuosity of light entertainment seems almost hypnotic to them.
Davina McCall ate my family,
Tune in at nine to see what eleven strangers are doing in a house you live nowhere near,
Then slowly feel the cotton wool being jackhammered down your ears as you,
Vote to evict the perfect stranger you like the least and then,
Like a moth to the flame,
Do the same seven days later,
Do you feel dirty yet?
Celebrity culture ate my family,
Did you hear about the ‘human balloon’ who died,
Leaving her baby daughter at the hands of gold diggers,
Hanging around like flies rounds shit?
I did, and I’m sure you’re the same!
Well there’s just a small collection of random bits of writing I still have yet to finish. There is more and maybe, who knows, next time I’m bored and want to write I may post more.
Thank you for reading and normal, very angry, service will be resumed soon!
Many writers have a back catalogue of random false starts or half thought out ideas that never see the light of day, and I am no different, so here I present a small (very small) collection of things I found in a notebook when I visited my dads earlier today.
Some of the things that follow were going to go on and be bigger things, other were just random silly “brainfarts” thatI felt I should write down, so here they are slightly edited for spelling and in one or two occasions just to round it off nicely.
Extract One:
We take certain things in life for granted. Things like reading from left to right, or the corner shop shuts at nine, even though it says ten in the window. That most ITV sitcoms aren’t worth the time or effort. These little things occur daily in our lives and we just accept them, twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, fifty two weeks a year.
We fail to notice the fundamental things, but would we notice if these things started to change? Would we care? Let’s say, for example, your front door started to open outwards instead of inwards. The microwave “BEEP”’s instead of “Ping”ing, like you’re used to. Not major changes I know, but that’s just where it starts.
That was to be beginning of a short story or maybe a novel about a man who’s life seems to be changing bit by bit around him. I’m still working on a variation on the same idea, but I am developing it into a sitcom instead.
Also present in this notebook is the start of a little diatribe into...well, actually I don’t know what I wanted to do with it but I think it started off rather nicely...
Extract Two:
The thing about people is...we know too many of them. It causes great offence when we forget someone’s name. It causes even greater offence when we fail to recognise that we even met the person in the first place!
We sometimes rely on other people to guide us through these problems, but this often causes more offence than just asking, “I’m sorry, you are?”. At least you can shrug that question off as a joke!
Like I said I didn’t really know where that was going, and maybe there was more to it.
Now, those of you who know me as a writer will know that poetry isn’t my bag, but just to prove that I am a walking contradiction, here are two of my efforts...
Poem 1: The Little Pink Box (More of a list)
If I had a little box,
With a Ribbon tied in a pink bow.
What would I put in that Box?
I think I know!
Holocaust deniers,
Arrogance,
Ant and Dec,
Catherine Tate,
Nazi’s
Fascists,
Barry Fucking Scott and his cunting Cillit Bang!
S Club 7,
America,
People with no sense of irony,
Piety,
Golf,
Chris Evans,
People who sell drugs to children,
Children,
The Fucking Frog Bastard Chorus,
Chewed Pens
Phone Bills and Banks,
No Smoking Signs,
Star Trek,
Paedophiles,
Rapists,
Hoodies,
Scallies,
Chavs,
Emo’s
Heather Mills,
Instruction manuals that have every language EXCEPT the one you fucking speak!
And do you know what?
I’d throw the fucking box in the ocean!
Poem 2: Davina McCall Ate My Family
The telly ate my family,
Big Brother, I’m A Celebrity, Dancing on Ice, media cannibals the lot of them,
The hollow shell that was once my family,
The vacuosity of light entertainment seems almost hypnotic to them.
Davina McCall ate my family,
Tune in at nine to see what eleven strangers are doing in a house you live nowhere near,
Then slowly feel the cotton wool being jackhammered down your ears as you,
Vote to evict the perfect stranger you like the least and then,
Like a moth to the flame,
Do the same seven days later,
Do you feel dirty yet?
Celebrity culture ate my family,
Did you hear about the ‘human balloon’ who died,
Leaving her baby daughter at the hands of gold diggers,
Hanging around like flies rounds shit?
I did, and I’m sure you’re the same!
Well there’s just a small collection of random bits of writing I still have yet to finish. There is more and maybe, who knows, next time I’m bored and want to write I may post more.
Thank you for reading and normal, very angry, service will be resumed soon!
Tuesday, 24 August 2010
This final series of Big Brother has been a tragic glimpse into what the show should have been for about the last 7 or so years.
So it’s here, all good things must come to end, but also so must Big Brother, it really hasn’t been the same since series one or two, when the housemates were decidedly “ordinary” people, locked in a mad situation, let’s face it, previous years have been a cavalcade of fame hungry, dregs of society that you would normally cross the street or go find another pub, to avoid, and here we are at the end of it all, with the steadily increasing level of mental illness in the Big Brother house, what could we expect this year? A man who believes his hand is his best friend? Twin snakes with electronic voice boxes? Louie Spence? No...oh wait...he did flounce in at some point...but I think I slipped into a hatred induced coma for that...
This year’s collection have actually been, on the whole, relatively normal, bar a few fame hungry narcissists and one (borderline) sociopath, the housemates have been the first for years that I’ve actually liked, although those of you who know my writing style, know that I don’t really write about things I like so I’ll get them out of the way now:
Shabby, oh my darling Shabz, bit off more than she could chew with applying for this eh? I always got the impression that Shabby was actually a gestalt entity made up of features from a wide array of my friends, and she was curiously hot to boot. Steve was a good all rounder (no pun intended), although a little lazy, but can we begrudge a man who has literally given limbs for our country a bit of sit down time? Andrew has really grown on me, I know some of you think I should have had some sort of affinity or sympathy with him, but even he was too much of a geek! The kind of geek that the geeks bully, a tragic, dead loss to humanity, however, over the last few weeks in the house, it has been heartwarming and indeed great to see that he has grown and whether or not this carries on beyond the Big Brother house, he has genuinely come out of this whole experience a better and bigger man. Josie has been entertaining and watchable throughout, without feeling the need to play up to the camera, she’s genuine, funny and wonderfully nice. Despite what people said and thought about her, I actually really liked Rachel (two), she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind and always seemed in a good mood. Corin is a local lass to me, so I can’t and won’t say a bad word about her, other than, knowing which school she went to I’m happy I went to the rival one. Dave annoyed me at first, his incessant God bothering was a really a bugbear, but after a while, and strangely just as a I was starting to realise I know people who do that myself, he began to tone it down and out came this fun, witty, nice man, who just happens to subscribe to a religion, (that said his, arrogant rejection of the theory of evolution really pissed me off last night!), as stands Dave is my personal choice to win this year.
I am a man of extremes in my views and opinions, and they often bend towards the hate filled or misanthropic, so this section should be a joy to write, however, there have been very few people this year who I can seriously say I’ve hated, (with the VERY massive exception of one, but more on him in a bit), however some of the housemates have annoyed me a lot, Ben for a start, what a lazy, ignorant, poshboy halfwit! I struggled to believe he was a TV presenter before going into the house, every sentence he spoke rolled out of his mouth, galvanised with the metal from the silver spoon that he forced into his own mouth at birth. John James, while he occasionally seemed like a like a decent “cobba” was too self centred and arrogant to be even slightly likable most of the time, that said though, I’m sure if we were ever to share a “tinny” that I might start liking him, if we don’t kill each other first in a battle for the “most unreasonably opinionated person in the world” crown...place your bets now! I started off liking Mario, his almost lecherous attempts to seduce Ben, his willingness to take part in tasks and not worry about looking a benny for a few days wearing a silly mole costume. But that slowly turned into this horrible, whinging, selfish, attention seeking buffoon, especially when it looked like he might be in the final, I seriously hope he is the first out tonight...just to see his face.
Of course, it wouldn’t be fair to you if I didn’t write about the one person on telly in the last few years that has made me throw more insults (and the occasional empty Morrisons Value Lager can, 92p for four cans!) at the screen than ever before. Sam Pepper, I actually got a little annoyed when during one eviction when Davina referred to Sam as “Sergeant Pepper”, in a “HOW DARE YOU ASSOCIATE THAT CUNT WITH THE BEATLES’ MASTERWORK!” way, pathetic I know, but that’s how much I hated him! Everything about him seemed genetically engineered to wind me the fuck up! His wardrobe looked like he’d dropped all his normal clothes in a blender and asked a blind, numb, old woman to sew them back up. His voice must have been deliberately higher in the editor’s sound mix to further enhance his annoying drawl (“JAOWSSY? JAOWSSY? WHY YOU SO FAT JAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOWSSY?”), and his antics in the house, winding people up, hiding people’s belongings etc, were not as he thought, entertaining for the viewer, they were evidence that he’s a sociopath! Even in his “vulnerable” moments he came across as more of an attention seeker than Mario! I wonder if he’s ever been diagnosed with ADHD, at least then, I’d be able to hate him a little less.
Another housemate I really didn’t like was Rachael (one), self centred and self obsessed, one of the very few things I agreed with John James about, that said, I do have the poster from her Nuts shoot on my wall...double standards anyone? Don’t mind if I do...
The other housemates provided nothing but platforms for the main players to jump from, JJ (who is also in the final, you know, the one who isn’t Josie, Mario, Dave or Andrew...yeah him.) is as forgettable as...a..., Caimohe I’m sure will pop up on celebrity Weakest Link at some point, Ife’s disappeared for good, Nathan, please actually hit John James, please! Keeley will make a good TV presenter I’m sure. Laura, Laura who? Anyone I’ve forgotten? Oh well, they clearly didn’t make enough impact in my mind...
The series as a whole has been actually quite watchable, proven by the fact that I actually watched it...what a silly thing to say...some of the tasks were hilarious (Everyone being Ben for the day, The Dickens Week, Predictions Week, etc) and some of the twists thrown in were fun, but overall it has been the housemates who have made this final series of Big Brother a tragic glimpse into what the show should have been for about the last 7 or so years. Like a great orator delivering a powerful and moving speech seconds before being executed for being nothing but an offensive tirade of hatred and “ism”’s. I am kind of sad to see it go.
As for who’s going to win tonight, I really want the final to go:
1. Dave
2. Josie
3. Andrew
4. JJ
5. Mario
However, I really think it’s going to go:
1. Josie
2. JJ
3. Andrew
4. Mario
5. Dave
This year’s collection have actually been, on the whole, relatively normal, bar a few fame hungry narcissists and one (borderline) sociopath, the housemates have been the first for years that I’ve actually liked, although those of you who know my writing style, know that I don’t really write about things I like so I’ll get them out of the way now:
Shabby, oh my darling Shabz, bit off more than she could chew with applying for this eh? I always got the impression that Shabby was actually a gestalt entity made up of features from a wide array of my friends, and she was curiously hot to boot. Steve was a good all rounder (no pun intended), although a little lazy, but can we begrudge a man who has literally given limbs for our country a bit of sit down time? Andrew has really grown on me, I know some of you think I should have had some sort of affinity or sympathy with him, but even he was too much of a geek! The kind of geek that the geeks bully, a tragic, dead loss to humanity, however, over the last few weeks in the house, it has been heartwarming and indeed great to see that he has grown and whether or not this carries on beyond the Big Brother house, he has genuinely come out of this whole experience a better and bigger man. Josie has been entertaining and watchable throughout, without feeling the need to play up to the camera, she’s genuine, funny and wonderfully nice. Despite what people said and thought about her, I actually really liked Rachel (two), she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind and always seemed in a good mood. Corin is a local lass to me, so I can’t and won’t say a bad word about her, other than, knowing which school she went to I’m happy I went to the rival one. Dave annoyed me at first, his incessant God bothering was a really a bugbear, but after a while, and strangely just as a I was starting to realise I know people who do that myself, he began to tone it down and out came this fun, witty, nice man, who just happens to subscribe to a religion, (that said his, arrogant rejection of the theory of evolution really pissed me off last night!), as stands Dave is my personal choice to win this year.
I am a man of extremes in my views and opinions, and they often bend towards the hate filled or misanthropic, so this section should be a joy to write, however, there have been very few people this year who I can seriously say I’ve hated, (with the VERY massive exception of one, but more on him in a bit), however some of the housemates have annoyed me a lot, Ben for a start, what a lazy, ignorant, poshboy halfwit! I struggled to believe he was a TV presenter before going into the house, every sentence he spoke rolled out of his mouth, galvanised with the metal from the silver spoon that he forced into his own mouth at birth. John James, while he occasionally seemed like a like a decent “cobba” was too self centred and arrogant to be even slightly likable most of the time, that said though, I’m sure if we were ever to share a “tinny” that I might start liking him, if we don’t kill each other first in a battle for the “most unreasonably opinionated person in the world” crown...place your bets now! I started off liking Mario, his almost lecherous attempts to seduce Ben, his willingness to take part in tasks and not worry about looking a benny for a few days wearing a silly mole costume. But that slowly turned into this horrible, whinging, selfish, attention seeking buffoon, especially when it looked like he might be in the final, I seriously hope he is the first out tonight...just to see his face.
Of course, it wouldn’t be fair to you if I didn’t write about the one person on telly in the last few years that has made me throw more insults (and the occasional empty Morrisons Value Lager can, 92p for four cans!) at the screen than ever before. Sam Pepper, I actually got a little annoyed when during one eviction when Davina referred to Sam as “Sergeant Pepper”, in a “HOW DARE YOU ASSOCIATE THAT CUNT WITH THE BEATLES’ MASTERWORK!” way, pathetic I know, but that’s how much I hated him! Everything about him seemed genetically engineered to wind me the fuck up! His wardrobe looked like he’d dropped all his normal clothes in a blender and asked a blind, numb, old woman to sew them back up. His voice must have been deliberately higher in the editor’s sound mix to further enhance his annoying drawl (“JAOWSSY? JAOWSSY? WHY YOU SO FAT JAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOWSSY?”), and his antics in the house, winding people up, hiding people’s belongings etc, were not as he thought, entertaining for the viewer, they were evidence that he’s a sociopath! Even in his “vulnerable” moments he came across as more of an attention seeker than Mario! I wonder if he’s ever been diagnosed with ADHD, at least then, I’d be able to hate him a little less.
Another housemate I really didn’t like was Rachael (one), self centred and self obsessed, one of the very few things I agreed with John James about, that said, I do have the poster from her Nuts shoot on my wall...double standards anyone? Don’t mind if I do...
The other housemates provided nothing but platforms for the main players to jump from, JJ (who is also in the final, you know, the one who isn’t Josie, Mario, Dave or Andrew...yeah him.) is as forgettable as...a..., Caimohe I’m sure will pop up on celebrity Weakest Link at some point, Ife’s disappeared for good, Nathan, please actually hit John James, please! Keeley will make a good TV presenter I’m sure. Laura, Laura who? Anyone I’ve forgotten? Oh well, they clearly didn’t make enough impact in my mind...
The series as a whole has been actually quite watchable, proven by the fact that I actually watched it...what a silly thing to say...some of the tasks were hilarious (Everyone being Ben for the day, The Dickens Week, Predictions Week, etc) and some of the twists thrown in were fun, but overall it has been the housemates who have made this final series of Big Brother a tragic glimpse into what the show should have been for about the last 7 or so years. Like a great orator delivering a powerful and moving speech seconds before being executed for being nothing but an offensive tirade of hatred and “ism”’s. I am kind of sad to see it go.
As for who’s going to win tonight, I really want the final to go:
1. Dave
2. Josie
3. Andrew
4. JJ
5. Mario
However, I really think it’s going to go:
1. Josie
2. JJ
3. Andrew
4. Mario
5. Dave
Friday, 25 June 2010
Big Brother divides the nation, into “Those that don’t watch it” and “Those that see it accidentally”
2010 is a year of televisual ends, Lost floated up into telly heaven to sit at the same table as Ashes to Ashes and discuss how similar their conclusions were. 24’s Jack Bauer can finally put his feet up after what amounts to the worst week and a day of anyone’s life! (Ok in terms of the series it’s actually eight days over the course of about 15 - 20 years by my maths, so let’s say Jack was mid to late 30’s in season one...) and Friends will finally disappear off of our screens by the end of the year, leaving a massive gap in Channel 4 and E4’s scheduling (get ready for even more repeats of Come Dine With Me).
Also included in this TV cull is the programme that for the last eleven years has divided the nation, into “Those that don’t watch it” and “Those that see it accidentally”. Big Brother closes it’s doors this year and promises to go out with a bang, sounds to me like they’ve been receiving my letters suggesting they end the series by making the final task disarming a nuclear warhead while wearing It’s A Knockout style chicken suits. So far they have failed to deliver, this year’s collection of the desperate and misguided seem comparatively normal compared to the (borderline dangerous) nutcases they’ve had in previous years, and what’s worse a distinct lack of cynically placed eye candy, although there are promises that they put some wannabe model in the house in the coming weeks. This year’s collection seem to be Channel 4 trying to claw back the halcyon days of Big Brother, where (for the first two series) it was putting 12 or so random people together and seeing how they get on, in later years it degenerated into an almost literal series of “Britain’s Got Serious and Worrying Mental Difficulties”. Over the eleven years that Big Brother has been an inescapable fixture in our summertime viewing, we’ve seen race rows, pregnancy scares, cheating abound, suicide threats, and someone shoving a wine bottle up their...wine cooler...and this year seems that it will disappoint on that front, already three weeks in and there’s been hardly anything that’s happened that could redeem Big Brother and stop it from being remembered as “that show that was good for the first couple of years then became a haven for mad people”. That said, as I stated before, collectively this years housemates are actually pretty boring people, in the “Big Brother” sense, that also means it is the first series in a few years that I’ve actually kind of enjoyed watching.
That’s not to say though that each housemate is dull, they all have things to be said about them individually and that’s what I’m going to do now.
Ben
There have been a few housemates over the years who have been described as posh, Derek from a few years ago springs to mind, but this guy takes the biscuit, not only does he look like someone’s held Prince William too close to a three bar fire for too long, but his personal insecurities and posh boy flapping about when he realises he’s just said something dickish irritate the hell out of me, the boy was born with a silver foot in his mouth it would seem.
Caoimhe
In three weeks as a housemate, she appears to have been nothing but eye candy for the lesbian population of the house, only seen when other people are bitching or moaning about other people. Although when she does speak, she comes across as a fair minded, level headed person. Needs to do more though...shag someone? Anything!
Corin
What can I say, local girl, (in fact she used to live on the same estate I now live on), seems to be the peace maker in the house, whenever a discussion seems to be getting out of hand, she’s there to calm down anyone who may be getting too sucked into it. The only thing really that seems to let the girl down is her mouth, and her brain, and the apparent lack of connection between the two (Only tonight was she bragging about having learnt new words, only to go on to mispronounce the relatively easy word...twice). In summary, lovely girl, but I won’t be asking her help me with tax returns anytime soon...
David
I can be quite a hard liner at times, and have many extreme views on beliefs, but I am always willing to listen and accept other people’s views, this is why Dave annoys me a little bit, he smacks of the kind of person who says, “I’m not trying to convert you here”, then proceeds to crack you repeatedly across the head with a Gideon’s for forty minutes. Still not as bad as Stephen Baldwin was in this year’s Celebrity Big Brother, though. That said, he does come across as a nice genuine guy, but needs to learn the meaning of the phrase “Shut up!”
Govan (evicted Week Three)
Every year has had a shit stirrer, and this year Govan stepped up to the mark with aplomb, and normally, it’s a good thing, but this little guy stirred shit so much, that I was pretty certain he may have been gossiping about himself at times, without knowing! “You know that Govan, right, well he’s been talking about people behind their backs!” “Govan, that’s you...” “Oh...err...well, you know that...Lucy...” “Lucy who?”.
Ife
Only seen this girl in the same situations as Caoimhe, when other people are moaning about others, seems nice enough, might need to grow up a little though, she seems a little immature.
John James
I’ve only ever met one or two Australians, and they struck me as being nice relaxed, fun loving people...John James is an absolute wanker! How grumpy is this guy? He moans about everything, winds people up, but in a way that seems only to amuse himself (NB to those who know me! I am fully aware of how much he’s sounding like me right now...), and seems totally obsessed with himself.
Josie
I like a woman with an accent, and although Geordie is my fave on a girl, the Bristolian accent comes a close second. Josie kind of spoils that for me a little. Don’t get me wrong, she seems like an honest, genuine, funny, smart girl, but the kind of girl who if she punched you in the arm during a bit of playful banter, would knock your shoulder clean out of it’s socket and into your pint glass. Still would though...I have been single for 6 months...
Mario
There are two Marios in the house, not in a horrible two faced way, but when Mario is around Ben he becomes a sickly puppy dog who’d give you diabetes through merely accidentally flicking channels while Big Brother is on. The rest of the time, he’s a smart, thoughtful, kind, sweet lad. Although prone to the odd irritating campy moment.
Nathan
Nearly 40 minutes of tonight’s show went by before I even saw this guy on screen. Where is he hiding. When he does appear, he’s the typical loves himself a little too much, shirt comes off too easy, thinks far too highly of himself, kinda bloke. Then again, everyone knows someone like that, and if you don’t then...that person is you.
Rachael (Evicted Week Two)
I’ll admit I already don’t remember much about her. I do remember not liking her on launch night though...why? For the life of me I don’t know. She was good looking though, I think she knew it a little too well...ah that might have been it then.
Shabby
I weirdly kind of fancy Shabby, there’s just something about her, don’t quite know what it is. But enough of that, she comes across as the vocal centre of the house. I’m pretty sure a lot of my friends are a bit like her, or at least I’ve met people like her.
Steve
Steve is the bloke who’s always in your local and will always sit and have a chat with you. Funny, straight forward, not a bad word to say about him.
Sunshine
Honestly, I really, really, really don’t like this girl, to the point that I voted TWICE to evict her! I haven’t voted on ANY reality show since BB2! Her whinging, her singing, her crying, her general existence has me reaching for the remote consistently! Then Shabby or Corin appear on screen and I’m happy again.
So there you have it, this years, and indeed the final cast of fame hungry hopefuls, and for a change I don’t want to kill any of them...just hurt a couple, a little...
I will write more about Big Brother as the series progresses, fingers crossed for the nuke task though!
Also included in this TV cull is the programme that for the last eleven years has divided the nation, into “Those that don’t watch it” and “Those that see it accidentally”. Big Brother closes it’s doors this year and promises to go out with a bang, sounds to me like they’ve been receiving my letters suggesting they end the series by making the final task disarming a nuclear warhead while wearing It’s A Knockout style chicken suits. So far they have failed to deliver, this year’s collection of the desperate and misguided seem comparatively normal compared to the (borderline dangerous) nutcases they’ve had in previous years, and what’s worse a distinct lack of cynically placed eye candy, although there are promises that they put some wannabe model in the house in the coming weeks. This year’s collection seem to be Channel 4 trying to claw back the halcyon days of Big Brother, where (for the first two series) it was putting 12 or so random people together and seeing how they get on, in later years it degenerated into an almost literal series of “Britain’s Got Serious and Worrying Mental Difficulties”. Over the eleven years that Big Brother has been an inescapable fixture in our summertime viewing, we’ve seen race rows, pregnancy scares, cheating abound, suicide threats, and someone shoving a wine bottle up their...wine cooler...and this year seems that it will disappoint on that front, already three weeks in and there’s been hardly anything that’s happened that could redeem Big Brother and stop it from being remembered as “that show that was good for the first couple of years then became a haven for mad people”. That said, as I stated before, collectively this years housemates are actually pretty boring people, in the “Big Brother” sense, that also means it is the first series in a few years that I’ve actually kind of enjoyed watching.
That’s not to say though that each housemate is dull, they all have things to be said about them individually and that’s what I’m going to do now.
Ben
There have been a few housemates over the years who have been described as posh, Derek from a few years ago springs to mind, but this guy takes the biscuit, not only does he look like someone’s held Prince William too close to a three bar fire for too long, but his personal insecurities and posh boy flapping about when he realises he’s just said something dickish irritate the hell out of me, the boy was born with a silver foot in his mouth it would seem.
Caoimhe
In three weeks as a housemate, she appears to have been nothing but eye candy for the lesbian population of the house, only seen when other people are bitching or moaning about other people. Although when she does speak, she comes across as a fair minded, level headed person. Needs to do more though...shag someone? Anything!
Corin
What can I say, local girl, (in fact she used to live on the same estate I now live on), seems to be the peace maker in the house, whenever a discussion seems to be getting out of hand, she’s there to calm down anyone who may be getting too sucked into it. The only thing really that seems to let the girl down is her mouth, and her brain, and the apparent lack of connection between the two (Only tonight was she bragging about having learnt new words, only to go on to mispronounce the relatively easy word...twice). In summary, lovely girl, but I won’t be asking her help me with tax returns anytime soon...
David
I can be quite a hard liner at times, and have many extreme views on beliefs, but I am always willing to listen and accept other people’s views, this is why Dave annoys me a little bit, he smacks of the kind of person who says, “I’m not trying to convert you here”, then proceeds to crack you repeatedly across the head with a Gideon’s for forty minutes. Still not as bad as Stephen Baldwin was in this year’s Celebrity Big Brother, though. That said, he does come across as a nice genuine guy, but needs to learn the meaning of the phrase “Shut up!”
Govan (evicted Week Three)
Every year has had a shit stirrer, and this year Govan stepped up to the mark with aplomb, and normally, it’s a good thing, but this little guy stirred shit so much, that I was pretty certain he may have been gossiping about himself at times, without knowing! “You know that Govan, right, well he’s been talking about people behind their backs!” “Govan, that’s you...” “Oh...err...well, you know that...Lucy...” “Lucy who?”.
Ife
Only seen this girl in the same situations as Caoimhe, when other people are moaning about others, seems nice enough, might need to grow up a little though, she seems a little immature.
John James
I’ve only ever met one or two Australians, and they struck me as being nice relaxed, fun loving people...John James is an absolute wanker! How grumpy is this guy? He moans about everything, winds people up, but in a way that seems only to amuse himself (NB to those who know me! I am fully aware of how much he’s sounding like me right now...), and seems totally obsessed with himself.
Josie
I like a woman with an accent, and although Geordie is my fave on a girl, the Bristolian accent comes a close second. Josie kind of spoils that for me a little. Don’t get me wrong, she seems like an honest, genuine, funny, smart girl, but the kind of girl who if she punched you in the arm during a bit of playful banter, would knock your shoulder clean out of it’s socket and into your pint glass. Still would though...I have been single for 6 months...
Mario
There are two Marios in the house, not in a horrible two faced way, but when Mario is around Ben he becomes a sickly puppy dog who’d give you diabetes through merely accidentally flicking channels while Big Brother is on. The rest of the time, he’s a smart, thoughtful, kind, sweet lad. Although prone to the odd irritating campy moment.
Nathan
Nearly 40 minutes of tonight’s show went by before I even saw this guy on screen. Where is he hiding. When he does appear, he’s the typical loves himself a little too much, shirt comes off too easy, thinks far too highly of himself, kinda bloke. Then again, everyone knows someone like that, and if you don’t then...that person is you.
Rachael (Evicted Week Two)
I’ll admit I already don’t remember much about her. I do remember not liking her on launch night though...why? For the life of me I don’t know. She was good looking though, I think she knew it a little too well...ah that might have been it then.
Shabby
I weirdly kind of fancy Shabby, there’s just something about her, don’t quite know what it is. But enough of that, she comes across as the vocal centre of the house. I’m pretty sure a lot of my friends are a bit like her, or at least I’ve met people like her.
Steve
Steve is the bloke who’s always in your local and will always sit and have a chat with you. Funny, straight forward, not a bad word to say about him.
Sunshine
Honestly, I really, really, really don’t like this girl, to the point that I voted TWICE to evict her! I haven’t voted on ANY reality show since BB2! Her whinging, her singing, her crying, her general existence has me reaching for the remote consistently! Then Shabby or Corin appear on screen and I’m happy again.
So there you have it, this years, and indeed the final cast of fame hungry hopefuls, and for a change I don’t want to kill any of them...just hurt a couple, a little...
I will write more about Big Brother as the series progresses, fingers crossed for the nuke task though!
Sunday, 21 February 2010
Blog post moved...
There was a section of this blog I have just removed due to the fact it is now part of a technology website and I considered it a little cheap to use it on here too, however, it's now at
http://www.geeks.co.uk/11761-a-geeks-review-of-2009-through-the-tellybox
Great website and there's more stuff from me coming soon on it! Watch both this and that space!
Adam
http://www.geeks.co.uk/11761-a-geeks-review-of-2009-through-the-tellybox
Great website and there's more stuff from me coming soon on it! Watch both this and that space!
Adam
Monday, 15 February 2010
Just a quick update...
Working on some new material for this site, which hopefully should be coming soon.
Watch this space!
Watch this space!
Thursday, 4 February 2010
The Best of Adam Almond (Part Two: The Rants)
Here is a selection of my rants/musings on modern life.
March 2009
Eulogy For Common Sense
TO OPERATE THE FOLLOWING PAGES LOOK AT THE TEXT AND MOVE YOUR EYES OVER IT WHILST TAKING IN THE WORDS CONTAINED THEREIN.
(Or…WARNING MAY CONTAIN OPINION)
I’m angry, I should be in mourning but I’m so incandescent with rage, so mad and incosolable with anger that I should be an 80’s alternative comedian. I am angry because something close to me has died. Not a relative or friend, but an ideal, one which we all once possessed as human but seem to have elolved beyond it’s use. This ideal, my friends, is COMMON SENSE! “Here lies Common Sense, RIP! (Rot In Pieces!)” reads the head stones and the average man, woman, and future scum is cordially invited not only to spit or stamp on, but to puke their reality TV infected, segregated, idiot vomit on it’s head stone. I’m not even certain, that half of what I just typed makes grammatic sense! Go back and read it for me and tell me. NO DON’T! That’s part of the problem! We rely too much on other people knowing things for us, doing things for us. I work (once again) in a certain popular fast food sandwich outlet, and the degree to which common sense has decomposed already seems impossible, but it’s happened. For example:
Customer walks into “Submarine Sandwiches ‘R’ Us” and peruses the over hanging menu boards over a foot and a half above clerk’s head and facing the same direction as them.
CLERK: Good day sir, what can I get you.
Customer looks at Clerk seemingly with disgust that he isn’t a robot who’s been programmed to read his fucking mind.
CUSTOMER: I’ll have that.
Customer then points at menu board over a foot and a half above clerk’s head and facing the same direction as them, seemingly at nothing. Clerk then turns on his heels and cranes his neck up looking at the same menu boards, but now can’t see which section or item the customer is looking at.
CLERK: Which one?
CUSTOMER: THAT ONE!
Clerk points at the first section of the menu board which is a single advertisment for a product.
CLERK: That one?
CUSTOMER: NO! THAT ONE!
Customer points more insistantly. Clerk then points at number two.
CLERK: That one?
CUSTOMER: NO THAT ONE!
And so it goes, for a moment or two until…
CLERK: What variety of bread would you like that on sir?
Clerk indicates the display of brad which is positioned so the customer can see and which has the name of each variety written in striking bold typseface as not to be confused with each oher. Customer points vaguely at one. Clerk’s view of which one is obscured by the back of the display [CAN YOU TELL WHAT’S COMING?].
CUSTOMER: This one.
Clerk then emerges from behind the counter and stands next to customer. He looks at the customer’s shoulder tracing the line from shoulder to fingertip with his eyes. He nods as if commiting it to memory and returns behind the counter.
CLERK: I’m sorry sir, but as a human being embued with sense, I deem you too stupid and facile to live anymore, and consider aiding your starvation to be of benefit to human kind more than cancelling third world debt, ending terrorism and the dissolution of OFCOM combined, I emplore you to go play in traffic while fiddling with matches in a flammable jacket and poking used hypodermic needles into your genitals. Have fun…and a nice day!
Ok that last bit only ever happens in my head. I wouldn’t dare do something like that. ‘Why not you wimp?’ I hear you yelling from rooftop, (quite why you’re on a rooftop is beyond me but hey ho you probably haven’t got the common sense to go inside!) The reason I would never do something that intellectually satisfying and cathartic is, the despotic customer would then take a few seconds to realise he’s offended by my remark and then complain to my boss or their boss, then I would be fired. I don’t want to be fired, for several reasons, it doesn’t look good on you’re CV, I happen to need this job, if I didn’t need to why would I do it? And finally it doesn’t feel very nice to be fired, and I know that!
So I play the game. I carry on serving this drooling maniac as he points and grunts his way along the line, selecting which items of food he would like to moronically drop down the front of his shirt. And at the end of it he toddles off and eats his food, and I carry on and repeat the cycle. (At this point I seem to have lost my trail of thought regarding the point I was trying to make.! Whoops! I think I need another coffee). I’m not saying every customer is like that. In truth, the vast majority of the people you meet in a job like “Quick Sandwiches” or “McDermot’s” are the average joe, who works 9 to 5 in a job he hates, or more often than you think, in a job dealing with the very same people. You can see it in their eyes, that hollow sense that they too are witness to the slow decay of the human race. We’re not evolving, we’re de-volving. Charles Darwin was right, he just got it backwards. Monkeys are what we’re becoming! As a kid did you ever fill a paper bag with dog shit, set it on fire, leave it on Mad Madga’s front porch and ring the door bell? Did you then hide behind her rose bush and giggle quietly as she stomped the flaming turd out?* Is that so different from two bonobo’s chucking their effluence at each other in a Metropolitan Zoo?
Human intelligence is in decline, everywhere we look there are reminds to not bang your head, fall down a hole, slip on a wet surface, or repeated jab a fork into your arm. There are adverts on telly reminding you to lock your doors when you go out. Packets of nuts display warnings that you might actually be buying nuts! Stereo manuals advise you to not attempt to fill with water and use it as a cup. Channel 4 disclaim that their latest documentary “Fucking Hell! What a Big Shitting Pair of Tits That Slut Has!” may contain strong language and scenes of nudity.
“And now on ITV1. The Jeremy Kyle Show, which contains scenes of morons arguing and a man goading them on to no viable, logical or healthy conclusion.” Now that’s honesty! How long before the news is prefixed by “may contain scenes of real events which some viewers may find boring or depressing”?
People seem to have no sense anymore. Can I not enjoy a take out cup of coffee from Café Nero with being told it may be hot, every time I look at the bloody container? Next time I will ensure that I order it cold as to eliminate any threat that I might burn myself.
ADAM ALMOND’S DOWNRIGHT AVERAGE DAY IN THE FUTURE!
I woke up to my alarm clock proclaiming “GET UP! WAKE UP! IT’S OK! YOU WEREN’T DEAD! JUST ASLEEP! NOW IT’S TIME TO WAKE UP! YOU ONLY SLEEP SO THAT YOU CAN FUNCTION EFFICIENTLY THE REST OF THE TIME!”, I switch the radio on, to listen to Chris Moyles which is punctuated every five minutes with the catchy jingle “YOU’RE LISTENING TO THE CHRIS MOYLES SHOW ON BBC RADIO ONE, 97 TO 99 FM, DAB, INTERNET, CIRIUS AND DISH. WARNING CHRISTOPHER MOYLES IS A PRESENTER WHO TALKS ABOUT HIS LIFE AND EXPERIENCES. HIS OPINIONS ON THESE MAY DIFFER FROM YOURS. FEEL FREE TO CONTACT OFCOM IF YOU DISAGREE WITH ANYTHING HE SAYS, ANYTHING AT ALL EVEN THE SHIRT HE’S WEARING WHICH YOU CAN’T SEE!”. I move to the bathroom and written on the floor is “ONE FOOT BEFORE THE OTHER!”. I turn on the shower when I turn up the heat a siren blares “WARNING THE WATER IS GOING TO GET HOTTER!” I step into the shower, on the window is a sticker saying “CAREFUL THIS FLOOR IS SLIPPERY WHEN WET!” I being to wash my hair the bottle of shampoo says “DO NOT DRINK!”. I get dressed in clothes that are emblazoned with “LEFT ARM” and “RIGHT ARM”. I leave the house and my key is magnetically drawn to the lock. I practically locks itself, just in case I forget. I go to the bus stop and wait. The bus turns, just underneath it’s number and destination is written “DO NOT ATTEMPT TO BOARD WHILE BUS IS IN TRANSIT AND THE DOORS ARE SHUT!” I pay the bus driver and sit down. The bus stops at traffic lights, the colours have been replaced and now read “SLOW DOWN AND STOP AS THERE MAY BE OTHER VEHICLES THAT ARE MOVING INTO YOUR PATH” for red, “ALMOST CLEAR” for amber and “YOU MAY NOW MOVE BUT BE CAREFUL NOT TO TRAVEL TOO QUICKLY AS THIS GREATLY DECREASES YOUR BREAKING TIME AND INCREASES THE POSSIBILITY THAT YOU MAY COLLIDE WITH SOMETHING” for green. I arrive at my destination. I wakj the remainder of my journey, pass a sign that says “WALK ON THE PAVEMENT, AS CARS TRAVEL ON THE ROAD”. I arrive at work, some wag has swapped the “PUSH” and “PULL” signs on the door, but I try both as one is bound to open it, in the background I can hear the culprit being shot by the police for endangering public safety. My job itself is filled with it’s own little signs and disclaimers to keep me safe that it would take me an entire shift to write them down so that I can take them home and memorise them. After work I feel like a quick pint to relax, de-stress and try to remember how many of the signs I can remember. I go to the bar and order a pint which comes with a leaflet explaining how exessive comsumption of alcochol (just over half a shandy a day, as the government reliably tell us) may get me drunk, and make start believing I’m Superman or go home rape my wife and attack my children with rusty cogs. I return home by bus and switch the telly on and crawl into bed. I start to drift off to sleep as I see on the telly a white on black image proclaiming “YOU ARE SAFE! BUT HAVE YOU LOCKED YOURE DOORS, WINDOWS AND LETTERBOX? ARE THERE ANY GAS ITEMS IN YOUR HOUSE RUNNING? ARE YOUR CHILDREN ON FIRE? IS YOUR WIFE BLEEDING FROM THE MOUTH, EYES AND NOSE? GOODNIGHT! SEE YOU TOMORROW!”
I dream of the good old days.
Scary eh? But it’s going to happen! I promise you, we need it, because we’re still killing ourselves with our own kettles and trying to eat with electric buzzsaws or putting bleach in our coffee instead of milk.
If you’re still reading at this point, then I’d like to thank you, I’d like to thank you for sticking with me, you probably agree with me that’s why you’re reading this, or I suppose it’s because I haven’t included that dsiclaimer that states:
WARNING THIS PIECE CONTAINS OPINIONS AND THOUGHTS ON THE DECLINE OF HUMAN INTELLIGENCE. WRITTEN BY ONE OF THE FEW PEOPLE LEFT ON THIS INCREASINGLY POINTLESS BAUBLE WE CALL EARTH WHO CAN THINK FOR HIMSELF AND DOESN’T NEED TO BE REMINDED THAT CARELESSNESS COSTS LIVES.
Just for those people, here’s a nice little paragraph that I’m certain you’ll enjoy:
Shit, fuck, bollocks, piss, bum, cunt, willy, fanny, goo-goo, ga-ga. Tits, SHINY, big brother, breathe in, breathe out, blink, arse, poo. Dear Ofcom, I would like to complain in the strongest possible terms. Poop, Roy Chubby Brown, Hip Hop, X Factor, Tim Westwood!
If you enjoyed that, Hollyoaks is on soon.
*I’ve only ever seen this in American TV programmes and films. But I’m sure that’s a different rant all together.
September 2009
Judge Arlene Philips (Someone Has To!)
The start of this year’s “Strictly Come Dancing” was never going to not court controversy, first off a few months back, Judge Arlene Philips was dropped for being too old, then came the signing of former winner Alesha Dixon, then they go and put it directly opposite ITV’s “X Factor”, prompting people to decide which of Saturday nighr’s myriad of colourful, increasingly befuddling television they wish to half watch. But seriously and honestly what kind of state is the nation’s collective consciousness in, when someone’s ability to judge a group of celebrities twirling and smiling for the nation’s affection and renewed interest int anything that they have to say or do, is called into question, prompting over 4,000 complaints! Can I please remind people, that at some stage in the series…YOU, yes, YOU MR/MISS “QUALIFIED TO JUDGE DANCERS!” get to vote them out of the show!
I’m seriously considering sending 4,000 complaints saying that the general public are too ill informed, and unqualified to judge them! All the voting lines should play a recorded message that says “Thank you for your vote, as you have no idea what the fuck you are on about or have any clue how to judge a dancing competition your vote has been put on a pile near an open window. Please keep watching as after the Ten O’Cclock News we will turn on a desk fan and blow all your collective votes out of the window and the winner will be decided by whoevers name lands on a chalk X in the car park! By the this call has cost you 75p! Feel happy now?”
If neccersary I will man the phones!
While we’re on the topic, the BBC’s decision to move “Strictly” up against “X Factor” is just a natural thing that has run for years and years now, I was seriously confused when both channels timed their soaps so that people get to see them all. Competing for ratings has been happing forever and a day! Let them fight it out! See who has the better show, or rather, how many more idiots would rather watch people prancing about, or belting out another power ballad. Make it it’s own show! I want to see Bruce Forsyth and Simon Cowell in a one on one fight to the death, my money’s on Forsyth.
As for my thoughts on the shows individually? I don’t watch neither. Or rather when I do it’s usually on the Sunday afternoon repeat, because let’s face it, Sunday telly, before 7pm, is awful.
One final, albeit tangental note, how awesome is ITV’s “The Cube”? A show that makes walking in a straight line, seem like it’s what people used to do on “The Krypton Factor” (come to think of it, there obviously was some walking in a straight line involved, but I think you get what I’m saying). The tasks on the show are fantastic because they seem simple enough that a lobotmised child could get their head round them, but in practice some of them are brilliantly, deceptively difficult. Try this one, take a cup or any kind of small object, smaller than one of your feet, taller than about 8 inches and strong enough to support your weight. Now stand on it with one foot and raise your other foot. Now stay “hovering” , without support for about 20 seconds. Go on try it. I bet, if you limit yourself to seven or eight goes, the longest you’ll reach is around sixteen or seventeen seconds.
March 2009
Eulogy For Common Sense
TO OPERATE THE FOLLOWING PAGES LOOK AT THE TEXT AND MOVE YOUR EYES OVER IT WHILST TAKING IN THE WORDS CONTAINED THEREIN.
(Or…WARNING MAY CONTAIN OPINION)
I’m angry, I should be in mourning but I’m so incandescent with rage, so mad and incosolable with anger that I should be an 80’s alternative comedian. I am angry because something close to me has died. Not a relative or friend, but an ideal, one which we all once possessed as human but seem to have elolved beyond it’s use. This ideal, my friends, is COMMON SENSE! “Here lies Common Sense, RIP! (Rot In Pieces!)” reads the head stones and the average man, woman, and future scum is cordially invited not only to spit or stamp on, but to puke their reality TV infected, segregated, idiot vomit on it’s head stone. I’m not even certain, that half of what I just typed makes grammatic sense! Go back and read it for me and tell me. NO DON’T! That’s part of the problem! We rely too much on other people knowing things for us, doing things for us. I work (once again) in a certain popular fast food sandwich outlet, and the degree to which common sense has decomposed already seems impossible, but it’s happened. For example:
Customer walks into “Submarine Sandwiches ‘R’ Us” and peruses the over hanging menu boards over a foot and a half above clerk’s head and facing the same direction as them.
CLERK: Good day sir, what can I get you.
Customer looks at Clerk seemingly with disgust that he isn’t a robot who’s been programmed to read his fucking mind.
CUSTOMER: I’ll have that.
Customer then points at menu board over a foot and a half above clerk’s head and facing the same direction as them, seemingly at nothing. Clerk then turns on his heels and cranes his neck up looking at the same menu boards, but now can’t see which section or item the customer is looking at.
CLERK: Which one?
CUSTOMER: THAT ONE!
Clerk points at the first section of the menu board which is a single advertisment for a product.
CLERK: That one?
CUSTOMER: NO! THAT ONE!
Customer points more insistantly. Clerk then points at number two.
CLERK: That one?
CUSTOMER: NO THAT ONE!
And so it goes, for a moment or two until…
CLERK: What variety of bread would you like that on sir?
Clerk indicates the display of brad which is positioned so the customer can see and which has the name of each variety written in striking bold typseface as not to be confused with each oher. Customer points vaguely at one. Clerk’s view of which one is obscured by the back of the display [CAN YOU TELL WHAT’S COMING?].
CUSTOMER: This one.
Clerk then emerges from behind the counter and stands next to customer. He looks at the customer’s shoulder tracing the line from shoulder to fingertip with his eyes. He nods as if commiting it to memory and returns behind the counter.
CLERK: I’m sorry sir, but as a human being embued with sense, I deem you too stupid and facile to live anymore, and consider aiding your starvation to be of benefit to human kind more than cancelling third world debt, ending terrorism and the dissolution of OFCOM combined, I emplore you to go play in traffic while fiddling with matches in a flammable jacket and poking used hypodermic needles into your genitals. Have fun…and a nice day!
Ok that last bit only ever happens in my head. I wouldn’t dare do something like that. ‘Why not you wimp?’ I hear you yelling from rooftop, (quite why you’re on a rooftop is beyond me but hey ho you probably haven’t got the common sense to go inside!) The reason I would never do something that intellectually satisfying and cathartic is, the despotic customer would then take a few seconds to realise he’s offended by my remark and then complain to my boss or their boss, then I would be fired. I don’t want to be fired, for several reasons, it doesn’t look good on you’re CV, I happen to need this job, if I didn’t need to why would I do it? And finally it doesn’t feel very nice to be fired, and I know that!
So I play the game. I carry on serving this drooling maniac as he points and grunts his way along the line, selecting which items of food he would like to moronically drop down the front of his shirt. And at the end of it he toddles off and eats his food, and I carry on and repeat the cycle. (At this point I seem to have lost my trail of thought regarding the point I was trying to make.! Whoops! I think I need another coffee). I’m not saying every customer is like that. In truth, the vast majority of the people you meet in a job like “Quick Sandwiches” or “McDermot’s” are the average joe, who works 9 to 5 in a job he hates, or more often than you think, in a job dealing with the very same people. You can see it in their eyes, that hollow sense that they too are witness to the slow decay of the human race. We’re not evolving, we’re de-volving. Charles Darwin was right, he just got it backwards. Monkeys are what we’re becoming! As a kid did you ever fill a paper bag with dog shit, set it on fire, leave it on Mad Madga’s front porch and ring the door bell? Did you then hide behind her rose bush and giggle quietly as she stomped the flaming turd out?* Is that so different from two bonobo’s chucking their effluence at each other in a Metropolitan Zoo?
Human intelligence is in decline, everywhere we look there are reminds to not bang your head, fall down a hole, slip on a wet surface, or repeated jab a fork into your arm. There are adverts on telly reminding you to lock your doors when you go out. Packets of nuts display warnings that you might actually be buying nuts! Stereo manuals advise you to not attempt to fill with water and use it as a cup. Channel 4 disclaim that their latest documentary “Fucking Hell! What a Big Shitting Pair of Tits That Slut Has!” may contain strong language and scenes of nudity.
“And now on ITV1. The Jeremy Kyle Show, which contains scenes of morons arguing and a man goading them on to no viable, logical or healthy conclusion.” Now that’s honesty! How long before the news is prefixed by “may contain scenes of real events which some viewers may find boring or depressing”?
People seem to have no sense anymore. Can I not enjoy a take out cup of coffee from Café Nero with being told it may be hot, every time I look at the bloody container? Next time I will ensure that I order it cold as to eliminate any threat that I might burn myself.
ADAM ALMOND’S DOWNRIGHT AVERAGE DAY IN THE FUTURE!
I woke up to my alarm clock proclaiming “GET UP! WAKE UP! IT’S OK! YOU WEREN’T DEAD! JUST ASLEEP! NOW IT’S TIME TO WAKE UP! YOU ONLY SLEEP SO THAT YOU CAN FUNCTION EFFICIENTLY THE REST OF THE TIME!”, I switch the radio on, to listen to Chris Moyles which is punctuated every five minutes with the catchy jingle “YOU’RE LISTENING TO THE CHRIS MOYLES SHOW ON BBC RADIO ONE, 97 TO 99 FM, DAB, INTERNET, CIRIUS AND DISH. WARNING CHRISTOPHER MOYLES IS A PRESENTER WHO TALKS ABOUT HIS LIFE AND EXPERIENCES. HIS OPINIONS ON THESE MAY DIFFER FROM YOURS. FEEL FREE TO CONTACT OFCOM IF YOU DISAGREE WITH ANYTHING HE SAYS, ANYTHING AT ALL EVEN THE SHIRT HE’S WEARING WHICH YOU CAN’T SEE!”. I move to the bathroom and written on the floor is “ONE FOOT BEFORE THE OTHER!”. I turn on the shower when I turn up the heat a siren blares “WARNING THE WATER IS GOING TO GET HOTTER!” I step into the shower, on the window is a sticker saying “CAREFUL THIS FLOOR IS SLIPPERY WHEN WET!” I being to wash my hair the bottle of shampoo says “DO NOT DRINK!”. I get dressed in clothes that are emblazoned with “LEFT ARM” and “RIGHT ARM”. I leave the house and my key is magnetically drawn to the lock. I practically locks itself, just in case I forget. I go to the bus stop and wait. The bus turns, just underneath it’s number and destination is written “DO NOT ATTEMPT TO BOARD WHILE BUS IS IN TRANSIT AND THE DOORS ARE SHUT!” I pay the bus driver and sit down. The bus stops at traffic lights, the colours have been replaced and now read “SLOW DOWN AND STOP AS THERE MAY BE OTHER VEHICLES THAT ARE MOVING INTO YOUR PATH” for red, “ALMOST CLEAR” for amber and “YOU MAY NOW MOVE BUT BE CAREFUL NOT TO TRAVEL TOO QUICKLY AS THIS GREATLY DECREASES YOUR BREAKING TIME AND INCREASES THE POSSIBILITY THAT YOU MAY COLLIDE WITH SOMETHING” for green. I arrive at my destination. I wakj the remainder of my journey, pass a sign that says “WALK ON THE PAVEMENT, AS CARS TRAVEL ON THE ROAD”. I arrive at work, some wag has swapped the “PUSH” and “PULL” signs on the door, but I try both as one is bound to open it, in the background I can hear the culprit being shot by the police for endangering public safety. My job itself is filled with it’s own little signs and disclaimers to keep me safe that it would take me an entire shift to write them down so that I can take them home and memorise them. After work I feel like a quick pint to relax, de-stress and try to remember how many of the signs I can remember. I go to the bar and order a pint which comes with a leaflet explaining how exessive comsumption of alcochol (just over half a shandy a day, as the government reliably tell us) may get me drunk, and make start believing I’m Superman or go home rape my wife and attack my children with rusty cogs. I return home by bus and switch the telly on and crawl into bed. I start to drift off to sleep as I see on the telly a white on black image proclaiming “YOU ARE SAFE! BUT HAVE YOU LOCKED YOURE DOORS, WINDOWS AND LETTERBOX? ARE THERE ANY GAS ITEMS IN YOUR HOUSE RUNNING? ARE YOUR CHILDREN ON FIRE? IS YOUR WIFE BLEEDING FROM THE MOUTH, EYES AND NOSE? GOODNIGHT! SEE YOU TOMORROW!”
I dream of the good old days.
Scary eh? But it’s going to happen! I promise you, we need it, because we’re still killing ourselves with our own kettles and trying to eat with electric buzzsaws or putting bleach in our coffee instead of milk.
If you’re still reading at this point, then I’d like to thank you, I’d like to thank you for sticking with me, you probably agree with me that’s why you’re reading this, or I suppose it’s because I haven’t included that dsiclaimer that states:
WARNING THIS PIECE CONTAINS OPINIONS AND THOUGHTS ON THE DECLINE OF HUMAN INTELLIGENCE. WRITTEN BY ONE OF THE FEW PEOPLE LEFT ON THIS INCREASINGLY POINTLESS BAUBLE WE CALL EARTH WHO CAN THINK FOR HIMSELF AND DOESN’T NEED TO BE REMINDED THAT CARELESSNESS COSTS LIVES.
Just for those people, here’s a nice little paragraph that I’m certain you’ll enjoy:
Shit, fuck, bollocks, piss, bum, cunt, willy, fanny, goo-goo, ga-ga. Tits, SHINY, big brother, breathe in, breathe out, blink, arse, poo. Dear Ofcom, I would like to complain in the strongest possible terms. Poop, Roy Chubby Brown, Hip Hop, X Factor, Tim Westwood!
If you enjoyed that, Hollyoaks is on soon.
*I’ve only ever seen this in American TV programmes and films. But I’m sure that’s a different rant all together.
September 2009
Judge Arlene Philips (Someone Has To!)
The start of this year’s “Strictly Come Dancing” was never going to not court controversy, first off a few months back, Judge Arlene Philips was dropped for being too old, then came the signing of former winner Alesha Dixon, then they go and put it directly opposite ITV’s “X Factor”, prompting people to decide which of Saturday nighr’s myriad of colourful, increasingly befuddling television they wish to half watch. But seriously and honestly what kind of state is the nation’s collective consciousness in, when someone’s ability to judge a group of celebrities twirling and smiling for the nation’s affection and renewed interest int anything that they have to say or do, is called into question, prompting over 4,000 complaints! Can I please remind people, that at some stage in the series…YOU, yes, YOU MR/MISS “QUALIFIED TO JUDGE DANCERS!” get to vote them out of the show!
I’m seriously considering sending 4,000 complaints saying that the general public are too ill informed, and unqualified to judge them! All the voting lines should play a recorded message that says “Thank you for your vote, as you have no idea what the fuck you are on about or have any clue how to judge a dancing competition your vote has been put on a pile near an open window. Please keep watching as after the Ten O’Cclock News we will turn on a desk fan and blow all your collective votes out of the window and the winner will be decided by whoevers name lands on a chalk X in the car park! By the this call has cost you 75p! Feel happy now?”
If neccersary I will man the phones!
While we’re on the topic, the BBC’s decision to move “Strictly” up against “X Factor” is just a natural thing that has run for years and years now, I was seriously confused when both channels timed their soaps so that people get to see them all. Competing for ratings has been happing forever and a day! Let them fight it out! See who has the better show, or rather, how many more idiots would rather watch people prancing about, or belting out another power ballad. Make it it’s own show! I want to see Bruce Forsyth and Simon Cowell in a one on one fight to the death, my money’s on Forsyth.
As for my thoughts on the shows individually? I don’t watch neither. Or rather when I do it’s usually on the Sunday afternoon repeat, because let’s face it, Sunday telly, before 7pm, is awful.
One final, albeit tangental note, how awesome is ITV’s “The Cube”? A show that makes walking in a straight line, seem like it’s what people used to do on “The Krypton Factor” (come to think of it, there obviously was some walking in a straight line involved, but I think you get what I’m saying). The tasks on the show are fantastic because they seem simple enough that a lobotmised child could get their head round them, but in practice some of them are brilliantly, deceptively difficult. Try this one, take a cup or any kind of small object, smaller than one of your feet, taller than about 8 inches and strong enough to support your weight. Now stand on it with one foot and raise your other foot. Now stay “hovering” , without support for about 20 seconds. Go on try it. I bet, if you limit yourself to seven or eight goes, the longest you’ll reach is around sixteen or seventeen seconds.
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