Archive for January, 2008
I’ve completed my tax return to the 92% stage. The next 8% will be the most painful.
I’ve contracted a hideous bacterial infection that causes me to emit fluorescent substances of a morning. Hold that image.
I bought 24 bottles of really nice wine for the bargain price of Â£2.30 each. Hic.
Part of my garden was revealed to have caused structural damage to a nearby structure; I’m worried.
The local graffitists have chosen canary yellow as their colour du jour.
I’m ahead with my ironing for the first time in about 10 years.
I made some great McCain free chips.
I remembered why I hate doing tax returns.
My spirits were lifted by several sunny days in succession.
I found loads of bluebells emerging in the garden; bluebells I didn’t know I had. Bluebell bulbs cost about Â£1 each – I’ve got hundreds.
I managed to forget it was January. I normally hate January but this January it hasn’t been that bad at all.
John Barrowman kissing blokes in Torchwood.
John Barrowman’s teeth.
John Barrowman’s hair.
John Barrowman singing.
John Barrowman appearing on other things talking about Torchwood.
John Barrowman appearing on things talking about kissing blokes.
Programmes about ‘the making of Torchwood’.
Programmes about John Barrowman talking about: his teeth / hair / lifestyle / acting / the making of Torchwood / the kissing of blokes / his fabulous stage career / etc etc.
Skidmarks & sparks
I wonder if Jeremy Paxman – (he of the alleged Â£1m salary) – sent his email about saggy underpants to the head of Marks & Spencer during BBC working hours from a BBC computer? If so, I would hereby like to claim from Mr P a voucher, redeemable for some M&S lycra nuthuggers, to the value of the portion of my TV licence he has recklessly squandered on this escapade. Alternatively acceptable would be a signed pair of the aforementioned slackpants that I can flog on ebay to subsidise my growing addiction to criticising errant celebrities who abuse their position to gain advantages not open to others. ie Me. Also, doesn’t the BBC have an email abuse policy which forbids the transmission of underpant related enquiries – (defective for the complaining of) – to persons outwith the orbit of The Corporation, viz Sir Stuart Rosycheeks, head of mens unmentionables at M&S? I think we should be told. And soon.
At a loose end whilst roaming through rural East Angular?
Why not enjoy a well earned pint at the kraziest pub for many a mile?
It’s the Dog in a Doublet. It’s also handy for birdwatching at the local sluice of the same name.
You didn’t notice me there
in the corner
quietly drinking my tea
whilst you were talking
about your holiday
and your trip to the theatre
and your expensive jewellery
and how you simply love wearing good clothes
cheap just doesn’t cut it anymore
is what you said
which makes me think you can remember
remember a time when you longed for expensive
and now you have expensive
but you are vile
or are you evil
do you live
or are you hoping
that your expensive clothes will make you feel
that you are alive?
Jonathan Ive: “A Dieter Rams for the new century” Bignjuicy 29-10-04.
Â£5 million quid compensation for ‘delighted’ actress. How delighted I am to know my that income tax is going to such a deserving cause. Not heard of too many other Â£5m ’settlements’ for superbug victims. Interesting to learn that the NHS paid Â£610 million for negligence claims in 2006-07. Is the postcode lottery more lucrative than we realised?
Duhhh duh duh duh duh
dah dah dah dah – di di di di di di – dah dah daht dah – di di di di di di
dada da da dada
BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM ”News At Ten”
It’s back after five years away.
Trevor’s back and he’s got a pay rise.
Mark Austin doesn’t look too happy about that.
And there’s a new woman who’s not Natash Kaplastic.
The BBC are pooing their panties.
Does anyone care?
Good evening and in a packed programme tonight we bring you a sneak preview of the ‘New’ News at Ten opening titles.
Deborah, like most of TV Land, was looking to make something ‘iconic’. She decided to devote herself to this task with devotion, dedication and, er, devotion. She scoured the News at Ten archives.
She devoted herself to an iconic bionic struggle.
Sadly she forgot to finish her GNVQ in creativity when she graduated from news school so she nicked the old titles from 199splodge and repainted them with some electric crayons.
Now they look so much more iconic don’t they? [And they only cost sixty million billion squid].
Here’s the real clock
Much nicer eh? Can you see the gargoyles? Where are the News at Ten gargoyles?
Deborah put the London Eye in too. She filled it with Uranium to make it glow realistically. Can you see the laser beams going up the Thames – iconic eh?
Just before you crash into Big Ben you get a lovely shot of the surrounding Londonscape. This is because UK news only happens in London, we all wear bowler hats and enjoy nothing more than a community singsong and a foaming tankard of ale around the old joanna of an evening guvnor.
The left hand frame above is from the old titles – see how dull and blue n gold it is. The right hand frame has been coloured in a bit more a’la Disney. If you zoom in very close you can just make out Dick van Dyke on the roof top left.
Cor blimey, it’s right modern round at ITN aint it and that’s for sure and no mistakin. BONG!
My apologies to those who’ve been turning up here expecting to read something new for over a week. Not much to ask, ‘we click on his bleedin blog and there’s bugger all to see’. Hardly good service I know. Earlier in the week my ISP decided to have an ‘outage’. As we all know, this is technospeak for f**k up. Suddenly, whilst I was in the middle of downloading a particularly revealing pdf (pretty damn fine), the stream of webboparticles dried up. Am I the only one who begins to doubt my sanity when my computer stops behaving as it always does? Rather than take the logical position, ‘OK the computer always works in X way, nothing has changed apart from CuteCat shifting from one buttock to another out there on the window ledge, this is not a likely explanation for the interruption to my personal cybersphere, thus the cause must be one beyond my immediate control. No. Rather than that purely rational stream of thought, I began to click on things, open things up, switch things on and off and phone random people. None of this activity resulted in anything happening at all. There was the slow realisation that a gaping void had opened up between me and the World, I twitched and came out in a cold sweat. After three days of twiddling, farting about and being offered 10p compensation my the ISP I am:
b. Considering a change of ISP.
c. Able to resume my growing agenda of new year posts.
I bet ye canna wait.
Thanks for your suggestions thus far per the potential outpourings of my organ. Here’s the list as it stands:
2. ‘Details of drD’.
You’ll have to give me more than that to work with now. Cmon cmon – time to add your suggestion below.
Meanwhile, I found a lovely picture of a kitten from an old Ladybird book. [ The link is to a damn fine Flickr group full of Ladybird loveliness - enjoy]. I have to confess, I’ve not much experience of kittens so it’s very difficult for me to write anything about them other than that they are generally cute
Sometimes they are playful
and sometimes they are evil
That is probably enough on the subject of kittens for the time being except to say, it is probably not a good idea to search for pictures of kittens using Google if you are easily offended, are in the presence of those who are easily corrupted or wish to keep your job. It usually starts to get a bit iffy around page 4 of the search results. That is all.
So what would you like me to write about this year?