It's hard to believe that just one month ago I was looking to the sky and begging the clouds to drop some snow on Christmas Day to make it feel more festive. Now I look to the sky and curse the clouds for dropping snow - which in turn instantly turns to slush, causing me to realise my car isn't as fabulous as I once thought. I so hate owners of 4 x 4's right now.
For my sins, I drove in the adverse weather conditions at the weekend to stay with my cousin in Essex. She's just discovered free online games on her "Smart Phone" and become a little bit addicted. Everywhere I turned someone was on their poxy phone looking at WhatsApp, WeatherApp, TwatApp etc. I bet more and more people will be requesting to be buried with their iPhones, not because they can call for help if they miraculously wake up, but so they can check what's new on "WhatsApp".
I don't care what pro-iPhoners have to say about this - they do make people social retards. So called "Smart" phones are killing the long-established art of conversation. A normal conversation about ten years years ago would go something like this;
"Hey Fred, is that actor, Jack Lemmon, still alive? It's been driving me mad"
"Erm, not sure mate......Hey Dave, is Jack Lemmon still alive?"
"He's the bloke in Some Like It Hot right?"
"Yeah that's him"
"Brilliant film, very funny, a defining film for Marilyn Monroe I think you'll both agree"
"Oh definitely I totally agree Dave, Marilyn Monroe was a very talented woman, but is Jack Lemmon still alive?"
"No mate, I think he died a few years back. Shame really"
"I know. Such a great actor".
Here's how this conversation would take place today;
"Hey Fred, I just found out on my iPhone that Jack Lemmon died."
"Bummer".
Not only did the iPhone kill that conversation, it killed the discovery that two friends had a similar taste in common AND the need for a third person to get involved. It's a social conversation murderer. I rest my case. You mark my words, children will soon forget the art of normal plain English. Its bad enuff tht ppl r tking in txt spk lk its a nrml lange. Teens are using ridiculous words and phrases like "Totes" and "It's well ream". I have absolutely no idea what kids are saying nowadays. Their conversation may as well be in double Dutch. In fact I'd probably understand double Dutch better. In fifteen or twenty years, maybe not even as long as that, they'll be no need for schools. What would usually take a teacher half an hour to teach you, a kid could look up on their iPhone in two minutes. Schools will become obsolete and there will be born a different kind of education system: iSchool. Parents will be forced to buy their children iPhones or iPads to be educated at home. Let's face it, the Government are always looking for ways to save money. Middle schools across the country have already been closed down, what's to stop it going further than that?
Maybe I'm putting ideas into their heads. Or maybe they're already planning on doing it and I've unwittingly blown a whistle and they'll soon be beating down my door to silence me! Maybe I'll iShutup and go to iBed now. YAY iPhones, God I love iPhones, they're SO great, shutting down schools - HA! Genius idea! Or should I say iDea AHAHAHAHA....*nervous laughter fade out*......
Monday 21 January 2013
Sunday 13 January 2013
Thank you for the days
Last weekend I heard CITV were playing an weekends worth of "old skool" programmes to mark its thirty year aniversary. Everybody was talking about it on Facebook and I was extremely gutted because I thought I wasn't able to pick up the CITV channel on Freeview. I missed the entire lot on Saturday but then I mentioned it to Mum on Sunday morning and she said "well of course we can pick up the CITV channel....."! ARRRRGH!!! I missed an entire day of Spatz, FunHouse, Knightmare, Mike & Angelo, Button Moon etc! Well I wasn't about to miss a minute more. After Mum showed me what channel it was on I started watching from 10:00am and didn't finish until 3:30pm! I stopped watching only because dinner was being served. Obviously I recorded Press Gang, which was being shown at 4:00pm. God I SO had the hots for Dexter Fletcher in that show.
As I waited for the first programme to start (almost shed a little tear when I realised I'd missed another episode of Spatz that morning) I grew concerned that the magic would be taken away from me. I watched all these programmes the first time around and I loved them so much, I hoped that they wouldn't come across as naff and ridiculous now. I was not to be disappointed. Button Moon was first on the agenda and I couldn't help but smile all the way through it as it bought back happy memories of days gone past. My brother and I had a VHS (I get shivvers saying that. VHS. Oh happy days!) of Button Moon. Six totally fantastic and mesmerising episodes. As I watched this brilliantly tatty and cheap-budgeted programme it reminded me of an episode where the characters looked through the telescope to see the land of egypt, one scene in particular where it had two sand-dancing puppets. At the end of the dance a camel walked in front of the camera and spat on the floor. It sounds stupid, but my brother almost shit himself laughing at that scene. He must've been about four years old at the time. We re-wound that scene a dozen times and still never tired of seeing it. I know it's sad to be a thirty one year old watching Button Moon, but the memories it provoked were totally worth it.
FunHouse was one of my all-time favourites, not least because of Pat Sharps fabulous mullet. Pat Sharp's mullet should have a Facebook page all to itself. In fact I might email him and suggest it! If CITV were ever to remake FunHouse and have grown-up contestants I think I would be absolutely anything to take part! I don't care how old you are, there is always a child-like presence inside of you that wants to start a food fight, or drive around a studio in a go-cart, or dive into a bath full of slime. Am I right...? That's a rhetorical question - I know I'm right!
I feel the need to thank CITV for helping me relive the happy days of my childhood. I disliked school so much at times. Coming home on a Friday to FunHouse, or any day of the week really, and watching stuff like Sooty and Fraggle Rock, was a great way of helping me to forget the day that had just finished. As soon as Pats mullet ran onto the screen that was it, the week was over and everything was great! The start of the Fraggle Rock theme tune still gives me goosebumps! I have to admit too, there was a scene in Sooty where Sweep was singing an Elvis song which made me crack up so much I had to keep rewinding it to watch again! Guess we never really grow up do we??
As I waited for the first programme to start (almost shed a little tear when I realised I'd missed another episode of Spatz that morning) I grew concerned that the magic would be taken away from me. I watched all these programmes the first time around and I loved them so much, I hoped that they wouldn't come across as naff and ridiculous now. I was not to be disappointed. Button Moon was first on the agenda and I couldn't help but smile all the way through it as it bought back happy memories of days gone past. My brother and I had a VHS (I get shivvers saying that. VHS. Oh happy days!) of Button Moon. Six totally fantastic and mesmerising episodes. As I watched this brilliantly tatty and cheap-budgeted programme it reminded me of an episode where the characters looked through the telescope to see the land of egypt, one scene in particular where it had two sand-dancing puppets. At the end of the dance a camel walked in front of the camera and spat on the floor. It sounds stupid, but my brother almost shit himself laughing at that scene. He must've been about four years old at the time. We re-wound that scene a dozen times and still never tired of seeing it. I know it's sad to be a thirty one year old watching Button Moon, but the memories it provoked were totally worth it.
FunHouse was one of my all-time favourites, not least because of Pat Sharps fabulous mullet. Pat Sharp's mullet should have a Facebook page all to itself. In fact I might email him and suggest it! If CITV were ever to remake FunHouse and have grown-up contestants I think I would be absolutely anything to take part! I don't care how old you are, there is always a child-like presence inside of you that wants to start a food fight, or drive around a studio in a go-cart, or dive into a bath full of slime. Am I right...? That's a rhetorical question - I know I'm right!
I feel the need to thank CITV for helping me relive the happy days of my childhood. I disliked school so much at times. Coming home on a Friday to FunHouse, or any day of the week really, and watching stuff like Sooty and Fraggle Rock, was a great way of helping me to forget the day that had just finished. As soon as Pats mullet ran onto the screen that was it, the week was over and everything was great! The start of the Fraggle Rock theme tune still gives me goosebumps! I have to admit too, there was a scene in Sooty where Sweep was singing an Elvis song which made me crack up so much I had to keep rewinding it to watch again! Guess we never really grow up do we??
Wednesday 9 January 2013
I'm Back!
Wow, it's been a while since I last pulled my finger out of my butt and posted on here! I am sad to admit that nothing particularly exciting has occured since my last Blog - with the exception of my beautiful little niece being born in August last year (still feels weird saying last year). Yes I know I don't like children, but this one is different because she's immediate family and cuter than any other baby in the world and I don't care what you say. So there.
So my Christmas was more or less ruined by a dirty selfish cold virus and chest infection - bought into the office by my manager, who apparently goes by the motto "Share and Share Alike". No prizes for guessing who I was cursing on Christmas Eve as I laid on the sofa hacking up my internal organs. On Christmas Eve I watched every Christmas movie ever made in an attempt to feel more festive. Alas, not even Chevy Chases Lampoon antics or Richard Attenborough's annoying sweet Santa Claus could cheer me up. I ate my body weight in comfort food, I ate slept and breathed After Eights, but still I couldn't raise a smile. Actually, watching my niece enjoying her presents on her first ever Christmas was pretty nice and she holds the prize for cheering Leigh up on the big day! Although to be fair it was hard to tell if she was enjoying her presents, due to the fact that she's only four months and doesn't give a shit about anything other than getting her daily food intakes and plenty of naps. She's not completely dissimilar to me really.
I was impressed with my presents too this year. They're usually good, but this year my parents excelled themselves. I often pined for the days of my excitment at receiving toys and board games, they obviously die off a bit as one gets older. But this year I had a present to make up for the fact that I don't have fun presents anymore. I'd always laughed at how ridiculous grown adults look in something previously associated only with babies and toddlers, and I do still think they look ridiculous, but the lure of the comfort and warmth of a onesie was too much to resist. I now sit proudly (and warm) in my pink and black cow print onesie, not the slightest bit ashamed. It may, however, be a different case when nature calls.
My New Years Eve was distinctly uneventful. I didn't know anybody in the area who had plans to go out, plus I was still feeling a bit pants anyway. So a night in with junk food and Bridget Jones's Diary it had to be. I was fine with that really, I'd go for Colin Firth over raised taxi fares and vomiting drunk town chavs anyday. I watched about two minutes of the London fireworks, which probably cost the taxpayers about three times the amount of money the Government are taking away from child tax credits this year. I went to bed at precisely 00:05am. I love my rock 'n' roll lifestyle.
I have nothing to report on my relationship status. It remains firmly in the single position. I've had several not-quite-so romantic offers of sex from a few guys I know, who are already in relationships - which just convinces me further that I'm clearly better off single. Who knows who we can trust. I'm still unconvinced that internet dating is the way forward. I signed up to a dating site a while ago to see if there were any decent looking men in my local area. Needless to say there aren't! Or if there is they certainly aren't on any dating sites! I haven't bothered to log on to the site since but I still continue to receive email updates. I've had about 250 "winks" and approximately 35 "Interested In You". I was very much into my last boyfriend, despite his weird issue with me touching his penis with my hands and mouth. I hasten to add, it definitely was not because I was unclean! I found out after we broke up that it was probably due to an unfortunate occurance during his college days. I shall not divulge what happened but I will say I sincerely hopes he learns to tell the difference in future - or goes to the toilet first.
Before my last boyfriend was a string of knobheads, as you know, so why would I want to take the time and effort filling in a lengthy "About Me" form online and pay a monthly subscription just to meet more knobheads? I know I'm being pessimistic, there are probably lots of lovely guys who use online dating. In fact, I can understand why people do it. It's part of the fun on a real date to find out things about the other person as you go along, it may even be remotely interesting. But it's not often until the third or forth date that you find out he collects cat collars, or spends nineteen hours a day playing Call Of Duty, or that his Mum still calls him every night to sing him to sleep. Wouldn't it be great if all first dates had to legally start with a relationship questionaire?
1) Are you currently receiving, or have recently received, psychiactric treatment?
2) What is your annual income?
3) Do you have, or is there a possibility you may have, any children?
4) Do you agree that tracksuits should only be worn on a running track or whilst gardening?
5) Are any of your exes a little bit mental?
6) Do you have any ambitions beyond finishing the final level of Halo?
7) Do you have any commitment issues or gay tendancies?
8) Do you object to black and pink cow print onesies.....?
So my Christmas was more or less ruined by a dirty selfish cold virus and chest infection - bought into the office by my manager, who apparently goes by the motto "Share and Share Alike". No prizes for guessing who I was cursing on Christmas Eve as I laid on the sofa hacking up my internal organs. On Christmas Eve I watched every Christmas movie ever made in an attempt to feel more festive. Alas, not even Chevy Chases Lampoon antics or Richard Attenborough's annoying sweet Santa Claus could cheer me up. I ate my body weight in comfort food, I ate slept and breathed After Eights, but still I couldn't raise a smile. Actually, watching my niece enjoying her presents on her first ever Christmas was pretty nice and she holds the prize for cheering Leigh up on the big day! Although to be fair it was hard to tell if she was enjoying her presents, due to the fact that she's only four months and doesn't give a shit about anything other than getting her daily food intakes and plenty of naps. She's not completely dissimilar to me really.
I was impressed with my presents too this year. They're usually good, but this year my parents excelled themselves. I often pined for the days of my excitment at receiving toys and board games, they obviously die off a bit as one gets older. But this year I had a present to make up for the fact that I don't have fun presents anymore. I'd always laughed at how ridiculous grown adults look in something previously associated only with babies and toddlers, and I do still think they look ridiculous, but the lure of the comfort and warmth of a onesie was too much to resist. I now sit proudly (and warm) in my pink and black cow print onesie, not the slightest bit ashamed. It may, however, be a different case when nature calls.
My New Years Eve was distinctly uneventful. I didn't know anybody in the area who had plans to go out, plus I was still feeling a bit pants anyway. So a night in with junk food and Bridget Jones's Diary it had to be. I was fine with that really, I'd go for Colin Firth over raised taxi fares and vomiting drunk town chavs anyday. I watched about two minutes of the London fireworks, which probably cost the taxpayers about three times the amount of money the Government are taking away from child tax credits this year. I went to bed at precisely 00:05am. I love my rock 'n' roll lifestyle.
I have nothing to report on my relationship status. It remains firmly in the single position. I've had several not-quite-so romantic offers of sex from a few guys I know, who are already in relationships - which just convinces me further that I'm clearly better off single. Who knows who we can trust. I'm still unconvinced that internet dating is the way forward. I signed up to a dating site a while ago to see if there were any decent looking men in my local area. Needless to say there aren't! Or if there is they certainly aren't on any dating sites! I haven't bothered to log on to the site since but I still continue to receive email updates. I've had about 250 "winks" and approximately 35 "Interested In You". I was very much into my last boyfriend, despite his weird issue with me touching his penis with my hands and mouth. I hasten to add, it definitely was not because I was unclean! I found out after we broke up that it was probably due to an unfortunate occurance during his college days. I shall not divulge what happened but I will say I sincerely hopes he learns to tell the difference in future - or goes to the toilet first.
Before my last boyfriend was a string of knobheads, as you know, so why would I want to take the time and effort filling in a lengthy "About Me" form online and pay a monthly subscription just to meet more knobheads? I know I'm being pessimistic, there are probably lots of lovely guys who use online dating. In fact, I can understand why people do it. It's part of the fun on a real date to find out things about the other person as you go along, it may even be remotely interesting. But it's not often until the third or forth date that you find out he collects cat collars, or spends nineteen hours a day playing Call Of Duty, or that his Mum still calls him every night to sing him to sleep. Wouldn't it be great if all first dates had to legally start with a relationship questionaire?
1) Are you currently receiving, or have recently received, psychiactric treatment?
2) What is your annual income?
3) Do you have, or is there a possibility you may have, any children?
4) Do you agree that tracksuits should only be worn on a running track or whilst gardening?
5) Are any of your exes a little bit mental?
6) Do you have any ambitions beyond finishing the final level of Halo?
7) Do you have any commitment issues or gay tendancies?
8) Do you object to black and pink cow print onesies.....?
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