RickB

Nokia ad!

2010-04-09T15:11:00.002Z

Just incase anyone still has links to this blog :-/

Here is an ad I just made.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HogpF3Q6gpU

Commentaramagogo

2006-06-13T16:09:00.000Z

Dear all,
Due to my innattentiveness (innattentivity?) I have just found a load of comments, stuck in the system. So I've laxativised them and the flow is restored. Good job too. Without doing that I would never have discovered HOW HOT bald guys are. Phew.
Since I last posted, I became 30!
more on that later... Just checkin in...

Extreme Makeover: Camden Edition

2006-05-01T11:13:00.000Z

First of all, apologies to all for my absence. I started a new job and I'm really busy.
But back to the matter in hand. I went to have my hair cut yesterday and do you know what she said to me? "How self conscious are you of your receding hairline?"
"Not at all," I replied smiling, thinking "I don't have one you ugly bitch".
Needless to say I have spent the morning researching hair surgery on google, and I've just found a very informtive article entitled "cosmetic hair loss remedies". Whoever translated it, and from what language, I have no idea. You'll see what I mean. PS By way of proof that I'm not making this up, here's the link.

It opens with the comforting reassurance that, "To depress the visual result of you thinning hair, you can evermore look to to front". Phew. Help is presumably at hand. But then it gets weird.

"On the assumption that your hair is thinning at the garland of the nut, retain accumulate the endorse pithy".

OK. My hair is not thinning at the garland of the nut. So I read on.

"On the assumption that you are thinning in the frontage, the hairline is creeping espouse at the temple. To prune this condition petition your barber to shipshape the premature scrap laconic, while letting the hair at your temples heighten longer".

You'll be glad to hear that, upon petition, my barber did shipshape the scraps I have left. So what next?

"On the assumption that you retain accept darksome hair, lighten the color a bit. This feint volition declaration decrease the distinction between the residual hair and the scalp, thereby making the crust barely observable".

An easier way around this I've found is to simply pick the crust off. But next I get severeley reprimanded for my choice of hair product:

"When it comes to grooming products, hover far from gels, which can ground sections of hair to stick hand in hand and develop gorges of hollow room that give away the scalp. Glowing sprays minister to a better principle."

OK Elnett it is. But stay away from wigs:

"Toupees look to be to be out of favor with Rug rat Boomers. Hairpieces acquire gotten a pathetic reputation because so multifarious men have on poor ones that cause them contemplate like that which provided a weasel died on height of their nut. It’s very difficult to mark a beneficial toupee, but the frightful ones earn noticed."

Donald Trump beware. All is not lost however...

"The American Hair Misfortune Conference advises that exclusive citizens with mass of hardy hair should examine hair weaving."

It's a fair comment there by the AHMC, but assuming you don't want to go down the Beyonce weave route, surgery seems like the only option. It just sounds a little violent:

"The most common ilk of Macrografts is cylindrical pigtail. Using a gismo or gizmo like an orifice puncher."

I think I have one of those. Reading on I start to become more interested in this line of enquiry, despite the obvious pain involved, until I am warned that:

"Scalp reduction is recommended for men with exposed spots smaller than 3 inches in diameter. This modus operandi is not befitting for patients with petty or sparse philanthropist limits."

Regular readers will be aware that my philanthropist limits are extremely sparse. So I'm then intrigued by the procedure entitled, simply, "Flaps".

"Flaps.
A gigantic horseshoe-shape morsel of scalp is piecemeal separate from the philanthropist limits region. The free point is positioned concluded the naked mark where a interrelated stretch area of hairless scalp has been removed. Further petite grafts are needed to devise a regular examine. Rule outlay: $2,7000 to 8,000 per swish, depending on the vastness."

Fuck that. Pass me a hat.

Sorry?

2006-02-09T13:58:00.000Z

I don't like writing two posts on one day, but I feel compelled.

OK.
Here are some facts from my life.
I own a campervan
My flat is full of neon lights
I have been to the roller disco at Bagley's
There is a glitterball in my flat with pink spotlights pointing at it
At the weekend I went to a party and embarrassingly "DJed" (stood behind the decks, hammered, and pressed buttons on an ipod, with one fist in the air, wearing a white tracksuit top and a baseball cap) and the biggest floor-filler was Madonna's new song "Sorry" I played it three times.

Here is a celebrity fact.
In Madonna's video for her new song "Sorry" (which I have only seen today, thanks to Holy Moly) she travels in a Pink. Neon. Campervan. to the roller disco at Bagley's, which is full of giant glitterballs and people in white tracksuit tops.

Here are some photos. One lot is from a campervan, the other lot from the roller disco at Bagley's. I am not going to tell you if they're photos of Madonna's life or mine. I'll let you decide.

Bit part bob

2006-02-09T10:41:00.000Z

Now, for anyone that watched "Alternative Medicine - The Evidence: Herbs" on BBC2 on Tuesday, you may be wondering, "Who was that handsome actor in the reconstruction on depression? The one with perfect cheek-bones, rubbing his forehead in abject misery while confessing to thoughts of suicide?"
Yes readers, you are right, that was me.
Since my first appearance on TV in 1998 (in the audience of Top of the Pops in my early twenties, on a pill, What Was I Thinking, my mum saw it, "Since when did you have white spiky hair?") I have appeared on one or two things - most notably, and I have to stress, inadvertently, on an AIDS documentary ("A lot of people in this noisy nightclub will soon be having random, unprotected sex: pan right to RickB frenetic dancing, flashing tshirt)
but NEver have I had such a response. Worried friends and relatives, obviously missing the word RECONSTRUCTION have been in touch to find out if I'm OK. A friend from University recognised me and managed to guess my email address somehow. The majority though, has been mirth and ridicule.
I will be back behind the scenes for the time being :-)

L.E. DISCO.

2006-02-01T12:12:00.000Z

Diamante belt buckles with a pink LED display? Could somebody pinch me?
http://www.tbuckles.com/index_files/Page1586.htm

Creative Schmeative

2006-01-31T10:10:00.000Z

arse, I've got to go to a creative team meeting and talk about something and I'm not feeling creative. (I am indicating this by a hat, and scowling).
Obvious things I can't be arsed to talk about include a) the Arctic Monkeys b) The new Honda ad.
Things I would like to talk about but won't be allowed to include a) Danni's neon house b) My hair.
Does anyone have *any* ideas? I need input. I will accept anonymous comments if you're shy.....

Anything You Can Do...

2006-01-26T10:42:00.000Z

The other day I was talking about the Minogue sisters and their respective neon houses - you might remember I said Dannii's was better but I couldn't find any pictures of it. Well, one kind reader has sent me loads! How fucking brilliant. Here's a selection...

Big Kid

2006-01-25T13:10:00.000Z

I have just discovered I am far too childish to be professional. Look where I was this morning! I had my breakfast in this bar - despite being hungover and it being 7am I was humungously excited - we were there to film Davina McCall because she's doing a new chat show or something. Whatever. But obviously I was far more interested in wandering round the studios.
I HAVE to get a job making films. Film studios rule, they're so BIG. Star Wars was filmed there i discovered (as well as Are You Being Served)

I got told off by a security guard for taking these pictures of the BB house. I missed it last night but apparently it all kicked off so I like to think if you look closely at these pictures you will see fur and nails lying around.

Possible Princess

2006-01-24T10:22:00.000Z

In order to keep the neon levels on this website at fairly near to maximum, I've decided to post my favourite ever picture of Kylie, in a neon Wendy House designed by Stephane Sedanoui. If anyone's ever stuck for a birthday present for me...

(She was later trumped by her sister Dannii in the video for Don't Wanna Lose this Feeling where she writhes around a big neon beach hut, but unfortunately Google Images wasn't forthcoming. )

Parallel Universe

2006-01-23T13:55:00.000Z

Due to last week’s resignation, and my imminent departure from the trendy world of promos, I've realised that the monthly CD mailout I've just received from Universal could well be my last. So I’ve decided I would take this opportunity to review them for you. A sort of bumper edition of “Singles of the Week”. So let’s see what chart topping choons are set to be unleashed on the British pop market this week...

Cut Copy: Going Nowhere
Prophetic title, crap song. Shit version of The Lightning Seeds. If such a thing is possible. Wins a point for having a luminous pink cover.
1/5

Stevie Wonder: From the Bottom of my Heart
Really quite unbelievably shit.
0/5

Ashlee Simpson: Boyfriend
This is alright actually. I’m not sure who she is – she looks a bit like a horse and her hair is so totally a wig – but her voice isn’t bad. The music is a bit Busted-do-Country.
2/5

Bon Jovi: Welcome to Wherever You Are
If pure weapons-grade shitbollocks like this is selling in America then I’d like to know why Robbie Williams isn’t popular as well. It’s exactly the same. Pseudo-clever title, shit whiney vocals, long vocal end-note that sort of echoes off into a “Where am I? Who am I? Where am I going?” after the music has stopped. Or maybe he’s fallen down a well. Let’s hope so.
0/5

50 Cent: Hustler’s Ambition
I absolutely detest this man. Hustler’s Ambition? What so he’s a rent boy now? Or is he talking about playing pool? Or maybe he just thinks the word hustler sounds a bit cool and ghetto. Or maybe he doesn’t think at all because he is as thick as pig shit. He’s so thick he dribbles when he “speaks”. You should see the cover of the single. It could be the cover of “Mongs Weekly”. Whoever shot him 9 times, please try harder. Sat through first two “yeah”s then threw out of window.
0/5

David Banner: Play
This went straight in the mincer as well.
0/5

Alex Parks: Honesty
She’s *gasp* grown her hair! She still looks like my cousin Anne though. I think they’re trying to remarket her as less miserable – she’s smiling on the cover. I know I’m the only person on earth who likes her voice but unfortunately this over-processed, useless and pointlessly perky song doesn’t do it any justice at all. Complete crap.
1/5

Total score 4/35.
Universal. What a cracking label.

A Celebration of All Things Neon

2006-01-20T10:26:00.000Z

I've been struck down with a deadly man-flu today so I'm at home, cheering myself up with the poptastic news, plastered all over Time Out, that Dan Flavin will soon be using up all the elctricity in the Hayward Gallery. How brilliant. You only have to look at my flat to see I've inadvertently been aping his work for years. Compare this Dan Flavin 1963 with this Rickb 2003. In other neon news, Paul recently took this photo for me somewhere in America.

conclusions
i love neon tubes
i am quite a shit photographer
paul isn't

Linkorama

2006-01-19T11:10:00.000Z

As if karma was punishing me for getting drunk and flirting with drunk South Africans last night in the George (& Dragon), Brad ended up sat next to Damian Lewis on the tube this morning. As soon as he got off the tube he rang to wind me up, by describing Damian's aftershave. (It was this). Luckily I wasn't anywhere near a public convenience. I was, in fact, having the fur bit on my parka eyed up by an eagle as I cycled past the London Aviary on my way to work.

I'm in a particularly buouyant mood today because I've just been offered a job back at the BBC, and I leave Red Bee in one month :-) It involves filming at the Victoria Falls.

Bittersweet Goodbye

2006-01-16T17:03:00.000Z

When I used to work in BBC publishing we used to steal all the free covermounts off the magazines. Most were designed for 12 year old girls. And most of them (playdough, glittery stickers) have perished, but one proudly remains, moving from desk to desk with me as I climb the ladder of pointless-jobs-that-wouldn't-exist-if-there-was-a-war-on. It's my glittery blue Top of the Pops magazine photo frame. It came with a selection of dreary interchangeable boy band members which I promptly replaced with Colin.

6 long years he has sat in that frame.

So it's a momentous and somewhat sad day when I tell you he is being replaced by Jake. Here is the demise, in process.
NB: That's not someone with an afro behind my monitor, it's a plant.

Put your foot in it

2006-01-16T13:51:00.000Z

There was a woman on the TV this morning talking about how you feel about your feet is how you feel about yourself. I wonder what it says about me that as a kid I wanted them sawn off and replaced with retractable flippers with built-in jet engines.
She went on to desribe how foot shape is related to personality. Apparently Keira Knightley's deep toe pads show how impatient she is; Tonight at the Golden Globes she'll be "the one on the edge of her seat going 'Come on, come on!' if the anouncer lingers on '...And the winner is...'".
I would not have guessed that any nominated actress awaiting an award announcement would feel like that. Not without looking at her toes first anyway.
There's so much fucking shit on TV isn't there. I just saw a woman on a Pantene advert using her hair as a scarf. As if. And now Des and Mel are talking to a topiarist.

I'm sorry, I know daytime TV is an easy target, but it's making me fume. After I have chopped Des and Mel's heads off with the topiarist's shears and pushed them both through that stupid picture of Tower Bridge they sit in front of, I am going to strangle the Pantene woman with her own hair, and put the foot woman through a mincer. FEET FIRST.

Mum, can we have Chipolatas and bisto for every meal?

2006-01-13T17:21:00.000Z

From Brad. keep em coming.

Shopping List, Pt II

2006-01-13T12:06:00.000Z

So, my mate Colin has suppositioned that yesterday's shopping list was actually written by the legless floating woman from the debt website - and that she is in fact Melanie Griffiths in a lego wig. Here's his artist's impression.

He might be right. I had imagined someone that has chippolatas, eggs and bisto on a Saturday night to look more like the below. If anyone else wants to forward a drawing/picture of her, you know it'll get published.

Four potatoes without jackets please

2006-01-12T12:39:00.000Z

I just found something on my desk I'd totally forgotten, about; a shopping list I found in Sainsbury's before Christmas. I kept it because it made me laugh. What I like best is the way she groups her items. Here's the list, in full, with spelling preserved.

CAT LITTER/FOOD/BISCUITS/TAMPAX
POTATOES & JACKETS
ONIONS/BROCCILI
OXO CUBES/CHEESE/SPECIA CHEESE
TUNA 4 SCHOUBA
CHOPPED TOMS/FLEA COLLAR/WHITE WINE
4 x CRONIS (we think this is short for kronenbourgs?)
CERIAL
MULD WINE/PICKELED ONIONS/POT NOODLES

And my favourite section - the meal planner:
SAT - CHIPPOLATERS/EGGS/BISTO
SUN - CHICKEN FAHITAS
TUE - CHICKEN TONIGHT JAR

Detail junkies will be interested to know that it was written on the back of a corporate christmas card from this company.

universally challenged

2006-01-10T10:38:00.000Z

Top news. Last night me and Adriana won* the impossible pub quiz at the Torriano. We were so chuffed with ourselves; the last thing I won was a competition to draw a picture of Princess Diana in 1981 (I was at playschool, in case you're wondering).
Anyway, the prize in 1981 was a teddy bear, last night it was a round of drinks. We went for decadence with two large brandies in hot glasses. Having already had about three bottles of wine by the time I got home I was shitfaced and watched the darts** with James, drinking port (The RickB bar*** had run out of everything else). So I'm a bit mashed today and I've spent all morning eating pig-related food products (but not trotters).

*We came second, but we got a prize
** Contrary to tradition, one of the players in the world championships this year is quite fit (as in attractive) Think he's about 18 though, plenty of time to get really fat.
***For those that don't know the sad news, I had to get rid of the bar a while ago when I dug up the floor. But the optics and the shelves full of crap are still there. In its place is my kickass piano. that scary pink thing is a mouldable neon tube Brad bought me for christmas.

Trot On

2006-01-09T12:18:00.000Z

Purely for novelty value, I nearly bought some trotters at the weekend. I think I was sucked in by the flashing LED rope light. Unfortunately I only had a bit of cash on me so I decided to spend it at Macdonalds instead. If you look carefully in this picture they're also selling twirly tails.

Rubber Sushi

2006-01-08T13:36:00.000Z

I have found the trainer shop of my dreams. Look. Unfortunately it's in Japan.

Charlie

2006-01-06T12:52:00.000Z

So, big headline today, a politician is an alcoholic.
This shock follows hot on the heels of the news that a supermodel takes drugs, a footballer has slept with someone, and a member of a boyband is gay.

I feel sorry for the journos that have to report on these obscenities. After all, they spend most of their time at home knitting.

cunts

Son of Twat

2006-01-05T10:10:00.000Z

Thanks to my high flying media job *cough* I have just received a free copy of Son of Dork's latest single. On the cover they are all wearing band t-shirts (Thin Lizzy, Guns n roses, rolling stones etc)
What a bunch of cunts. What a desperate scrabbling for credibility.
As if to make matters worse, the B side is a Busted cover. *loses all faith in humanity*

1] In case you're wondering, the ugly one that used to be in Busted is wearing Thin Lizzy

2] Before anyone mentions my Rolling Stones t-shirt, please be advised that I was alive in the 70s

Confess Your Excess PtII

2006-01-04T12:06:00.000Z

Has anyone posted anything made-up on Evian's piss-poor Christmas confession site yet? So far we have managed "I'm a smack addict but luckily I'm not dead yet because I wash my bed-sores out with warm Evian: Felicity, 24, Kettering" and "I got so off my face on brandy and junior disprol this Christmas I fucked my own brother: Marion, 34, Milton Keynes".

Neither of them have surfaced on the "Sinners' Parade!" yet, there just seems to be some crap about someone eating 12 jaffa cakes (etc) or, gasp "I had two beers, actually, haha, I mean two six packs!!"

jesus mother of god

Bareback Mountin' PtII

2006-01-04T11:18:00.000Z

I'm aware this blog has been a bit neglected recently so the last thing I'm about to do is a mind-numbingly dull & pious film review. However, I've been to see the above (you may have inferred this from my last post) and it's the best film I have ever seen. In The World. I am still coasting on a bit of a high from it, three days later.
If it "does well at the box office" despite its "subject matter" I'll be the happiest man alive. (This might be the first year I actually give a shit about the oscars). However, attempts to force straight friends to go and see it seem to be failing at certain ranch-fences despite what, to me is an obvious incentive to go (i.e. a gay friend. You need to understand my fucking pain, breeders!!). Excuses so far include "I'm not really into westerns" and "Oh, I can't watch things that make me too upset".
*stern face*

PS this is political as I get, don't worry.
Here's another picture of Jake.

It's a jungle in here

2006-01-03T14:40:00.000Z

I have no idea where my head is today. I'm living in cloud cuckoo land, having watched (in between binge drinking) a lot of films over Christmas. Somehow, at the back of my mind, I keep finding myself in a land where I'm being looked after by penguins, fucked by cowboys, married to Jake Gyllenhaal, being chased by giant dinosaurs, and carried by monkeys up the empire state building.
You'll notice that, even in my daydreams, I'm not actually doing anything myself. This is related to the post christmas lethargy I'm suffering from due to the fact that I havent done any excercise in nearly two weeks, and my stomach is full of christmas cake, lager, and bangers & mash. I'm probably about as far from marrying Jake Gyllenhaal as I'm ever going to get. So obviously I'm thinking about my new fitness regime. Which is clearly never going to happen. But it's a nice way of whiling away a few hours when I should be pulling my socks up and getting on with all the work I've been given because I moaned I had nothing to do.
Someone in my office (a married man in a pink woolly jumper - draw your own conclusions) has already asked me if I was in fight club over christmas. This is due to the fact I didn't shave the whole time, OR fake tan, so I am currently somewhat pale and lacerated. <--- I'm telling people it's due to a dinosaur attack.

Wonder if kate'll be logging in?...

2005-12-23T11:15:00.000Z

Now this I'm finding hilarious. Evian are running a little promotion over the festive period:

"Has your festive behaviour been a little less than pristine? Why not come clean and confess - you'll feel so much better for it! With each online confession you've got a chance to win a rejuvenating spa break for two.. (etc)".

Judging by the picture of a cute 30-something blonde with her hands over her mouth in mock embarrassment they're expecting side-splitting tales like "I had three sherries and forgot to do the ironing" or "I photocopied my botty at the office party".
The temptation though [and presumably, what is more likely to happen] is that people will log in and admit that, for example, "I'm all mashed up on Crystal Meth and Night Nurse, I've had sex with five people in the last 20 minutes, none of whom I am on first name terms with, and there are weeping smack sores all up my left arm", "I'm an alcoholic queer-bashing murderer", or more in keeping with the spirit of Christmas, "I've drunk 3 litres of whisky and slashed my wrists".
What on *earth* were Evian thinking?
Do they have any idea what people get up to in this country? Do they not watch Channel 4? Hahaha. Let's all enter the competition but tell the whole truth. They'll soon realise they've bitten off more than they can chew. Do it here.

Isle of Dogs

2005-12-22T15:51:00.000Z

I discovered today that Christmas Island...

Looks like one of these

that you give me no that you give me no that you give me no

2005-12-19T16:16:00.000Z

Exciting news, as my mate Lucy, member of soon-to-be-stellar dance outfit "Cassette", sticks a new song on tinternet. I'm chuffed, because I photographed & designed the cover. Have a look and a listen here.

I hope you're all having a fantastic christmas. I'm up to my neck in shopping, champagne and mince pies as we speak.

London 1 : Environment 0

2005-12-14T16:50:00.000Z

So I'm back at work, battling through quite a monumental several-day accumulated hangover. All the big guns are out - bio oil, milk thistle, clarins day and night, berocca, and I'm even eating fucking vegetables. It's detox to retox...

Heard on the radio this morning, this poisonous cloud above London is NOT DANGEROUS

*except people who are asthmatic, people who have bronchial
diseases, people who smoke, people with allergies, people with colds, people
with.. (I stopped listening at this point)

However, judging by the top of my cupboards, it is going to be no more dangerous than being in my house while I'm deep frying pork balls.
I totally missed the whole thing, although I was with Zoe on Sunday and we both noticed the sky looked a bit peculiar. "like a graphic novel" was her description. The only picture I could find to illustrate this is from Electra. I think they've put the "blaze" (news word) out now, but I did like the joke about it being George Best's cremation.

work schmurk

2005-12-06T16:03:00.000Z

I just had an email from my boss, subject title: "Outstanding!"

I wonder what it says about my psyche that I thought it was going to be congratulatory.
:(

Croque Monsieur

2005-12-06T12:27:00.000Z

Just as a quick aside, thought I should say Paris was ace. There was 8 of us (no spouses allowed) and we went dead early Saturday morning and came back Sunday lunch.
The key to our success was taking what turned out to be a genius decision to get a (cheap, fantastic) hotel in one place and stay near it. So, apart from a quick pootle up the Arc du Triomphe and a return journey via Sephora, Champs Elysees, we spent most of our time lounging amongst the cafes, bars, and salami shops of the Marais. Had a fantastic candlelit dinner (which the flash on my camera has done no justice to) and got hammered in a bar round the corner from the pompidou centre.
The only set back was having my wallet nicked by a tramp but luckily it was devoid of cash. I've just had a call from The Lovely Thierry who claims to have found it in his building, in his umbrella. This could however be a mistranslation, similar to when Steph told the barman I'd had my coat-hanger stolen.
Hooray for beautiful Paris, and its friendly inhabitants (but bad tramps).

Photos will follow, if I can ever be arsed to sort them out.

(NB: The Lovely Thierry managed to contact me by calling BECTU, via my BECTU card. Trade Union in "makes itself useful" shocker.)

Snow Patrol

2005-12-06T10:34:00.000Z

The two dangerous things I fcking hate about cycling to work are Rubbish Trucks (permanently on a driving test: reverse round a corner, three point turn followed by a parallel park and voila, three dead pedestrians, two fucked up motorbikes and a mashed dog) and the "Special" bus (just because it's for A Good Cause, doesn't mean it has to be driven by a smackhead).
So imagine my glee when I came across the two of them, immobile, in a one-lane stalemate headlock this morning, fists shaking and everything. To top it all off, there was a cement mixer stuck trying to get past as well. "Ha ha HA. cunts." I chuckled as I rode merrily by.

I am wondering if I over-accessorise when I cycle.

Innuendo Friday

2005-12-02T13:36:00.000Z

I'm not making this up: Nikki who I work with just said, "Can you make Sean's beanstalk bigger, then print it out? I'm going to go and heat my fish pie up".

We're going to burn this city

2005-12-02T11:54:00.000Z

I went to see Franz Ferdinand last night. Gig reviews aren't really my forte, (the band were predictably fab) but I will say it was mucho fun. I've decided I like Alexandra Palace - the size of it suits my ADD. Once I'd discovered nobody was interested in my new white belt, or my eyeliner, I decided to go for a walk, then sit at the back and get stupidly drunk on those huge wax cups of watery verycoldveryfizzy budweiser you get at festivals, which made me quite nostalgic for Glastonbury.
That's all I have to say today, except WE'RE GOING TO PARIS TOMORROW. Touch Eclat permitting, there might be some pictures of me and the Eiffel tower on here by Monday...

Manfest

2005-12-01T09:06:00.000Z

There was a time when Colin Farrell looked like

this

, and as many who know me will know, he's long been at the top of my man-chart, and my chief friend in those more reflective moments.
It's hard to believe isn't it, given that he has now hilariously deteriorated into this

car crash in a pig's arse

.
s, Jesus christ I can't believe it's taken me this long, I'm afriad he's out on his ear, and that coveted throne is up for grabs.
The top six new contenders are as follows, in no particular order. I don't want any of them getting a big head though, so I've dug up some crap on them too.

1) The lovely and talented

Brandon Flowers

. Please be aware there are fans out there trying to make you

look gay

.
2)

Jason Statham

you are a good thing.

Without Hair Only

.
3)

Vince hunky

Vince fat

.
4) Damian Lewis:

Unlikely ginger heart-throb

, or

the celtic Quasimodo

.
5)

Johnny Knoxville

, macho fashion icon. With a

really bad beard

. (And I mean the beard).
6)

That bloke from The Bill

. I wonder if DI Carver knows about these

.
7) And finally,

.

OK, that last one was KD Lang.
So seeing as Mr Gyllenhaal is the only one who's avoided bad representation on the internet (which is, after all, what matters) I've decided to award him the crown. Fingers crossed he'll be accepting the award by satellite link up some time next week.

Balls

2005-11-28T22:23:00.000Z

It's only Monday and I'm having a right shit week. Didn't help that I was filming all Sunday, 7am - 10pm and hence had dinner at midnight (chicken breast, roast potatoes, carrots, beans, gravy, 3 pints of Staropramen, 15 marlboro lights. I'm Henry the 8th, I am.) As a result I've been like a bear with a sore head (cross reference: a gay with a stomach ulcer) all day. Thus therefore and thenceforth, I will have zero sense of humour until approximately Wednesday.

What a perfect opportunity, I thought, to show you my contemplative side.

If you've got quicktime and speakers, have a look at this.
It's the full version of an advert you might have seen. It's amazing, and they're actually real fucking balls. If I can somehow get a job throwing bits of luminous rubber around San Francisco and filming it, I might start believing in God and/or helping the poor.

Singles of the Week #2

2005-11-23T21:11:00.000Z

And now for the second nailbiting installment of my new regular feature.
This week my Singles of the Week are:

We are Scientists - The Great Escape

And My Friend Zoe .

Let's start with the music.

Single of the Week
There are lots of bands I like with stuff out this week that I would have liked to put in, like the Dead 60s, Mint Royale, Foo Fighters, Kaiser Chiefs and some other bitsnpieces. But it seems it's the week for crap follow-up singles, and people I like stuffing the pre-christmas charts with album fillers. So I'm going back to something I missed at the time, have just discovered, but it's kind of topical because their European tour opens in London next Monday. I forget where, but the test icicles are supporting and it's sold out. Anyway, it's a song to drink tons of snakebite to I reckon.
Here it is.

"Single" of the Week
Zoe is a bona fide Rock Chick(TM). Simultaneously glamorous, cute, sophisticated, rock (I hilariously called this picture Zoe forward slash Slash), and of course, a damn fine drinker/ She is the woman that taught me everything I know about music, nail varnish, looking good in glasses and, of course, flavoured vodka. I think her criteria as far as men are concerned relies on them having at least some indie leanings, cute hair, and being able to stand up to (and return?) lashings of razor sharp sarcasm. (It may have just become glaringly obvious why we're friends). I've chosen blue for the title here, because it's the colour of her guitar.
Applications via the usual medium :-)

Power Pooves

2005-11-23T12:04:00.000Z

Always being one to blow my own trumpet, I thought I'd soften the egotism this time by blowing someone else's at the same time.
By a cruel streak of fate this week myself and the husband seem to have become high flyers.
Brad has started rehearsals this week, as director, on a play he's written, which is on at the Cambridge Arts Theatre over Christmas. And as for myself, well, a film I produced is on at the cinema on Thursday. It's all very exciting. My name will light up the Notting Hill Coronet, six feet across, for several, actual, seconds. And Brad's will be on festive posters all over Cambridgeshire.

Ahem. As an accomplished writer with a love of poetic license obviously I missed one or two words out from the above paragraph in order to marginally increase my kudos. I'll type them below, and I'll let you work out where to paste them in:

pantomime
short

Wave goodbye to your livers

2005-11-23T09:53:00.000Z

Make a note of November 23rd - could well be a national holiday in years to come. For lo, it is the day that Britain's pubs (optionally) went 24hrs. I am guessing that none of them will bother, except perhaps my local 24hrs tesco which currently has to lock its wine fridge during the small hours (this is potentially Very Bad News.) What I'm hoping happens is that all my cosy locals start staying open until 1am. That would be nice.

On a related note, hooray again: aforementioned Tesco seems to have started selling drugs:

Electric Dreams

2005-11-21T22:07:00.000Z

I have fallen in love.

With myself, in boombox form. I first saw him in Woking precinct, circa 1986, surrounded by happy 80s people, body-popping. I have an overly romanticised memory of the 80s, so this may be ficititious. I'm fairly sure however that we had a brief encounter in a friend of a friend's bedroom in the early 90s, to the dulcet bleeps of Candy Flip. His name is The Diamond FL-990 Personal Disco Component. I am currently scouring every boombox forum known to man in the vain hope that somebody might be able to unite us. I'm even thinking of hiring a private detective to track him down. This is what he looks like.

In case your computer isn't giving you the full flashing version of that picture, this is what he looks like lit up.

I shall sleep lonely tonight, knowing that somewhere, he's morosely flashing my name in morse code, perhaps looking at the same stars that I am, wondering when Giorgio Moroder will be coursing through his veins once more.

Ball Watch

2005-11-18T12:58:00.000Z

It's been a slow morning...

Never feed me sambucas before or after midnight

2005-11-17T16:42:00.000Z

I have just been visited by a foggy drunk memory [time frame: last two weeks] of telling someone they looked like Gizmo out of Gremlins. If it was you please get in touch and I will apologise. I just hope it wasn't supposed to be a chat up line.

In other small furry mammal news, James rashly claimed this week that the Revenge of the Sith is as good as The Empire Strikes Back, and therefore better than Return of the Jedi. "Does it have Princess Leia dancing with Ewoks?" I asked.

Case Closed.

In order to assuage my boredom today, I have made a rubber band ball. I've placed it next to the other everyday objects on my desk, so you can get an idea of scale.

Single of the Week

2005-11-16T16:01:00.000Z

Uh-oh. It's time to backtrack, big time. (I knew this was going to happen).
I've just seen Madonna's video and it's ace. She has won me over with the world's biggest, neonest, 80sest, ghettoist, green-red-and-yellow-flashing thunderous boom box. And I am actually talking about a piece of electronic equipment. I think it might be me in stereo form. The song's a lazy abba rip and she looks about 90 but fuckit, it's about the most fabulous thing to happen to the world for a while and it's made me feel like dancing. Plus she's used all my favourite colours on the sleeve.
I have vowed to learn all the moves and perform them on Saturday night at the Ghetto, after a big load of pints, to celebrate Lee's return from NYC.

In other music news, I have had to remove the Arctic Monkeys link from my website. This is due to the fact that they have now reached number one, without airplay, on downloads alone, so I think the work of my link is done. I will have to educate the world to the next big thing - might need a bit of help from my nme-subscribed flatmate James. Which brings me onto my new feature:

Single of the Week
James works for the Mi5, is pushing 30, and likes a drink. He listens to loud punk rock, has a playstation, and watches a lot of football. He can be quite funny, but is slightly ginger. He likes girls with an age, a hair colour, a height, and a chest size. Apply here!

Homme & Jerry

2005-11-16T11:31:00.000Z

Finally, I have a pet, or rather pets. Some little meeces. I'm quite pleased. Now we've moved all the food out of the way they're not really unhygienic, just cute. When it's quiet and dark you can see their little noses poking out from under the skirting boards. I've actually toyed with the idea of building them a small wendy house with matchbox beds and drawing-pin stools. One of the little fuckers did eat its way through my eye mask (it had seeds in it). But apart from that they're quite well-behaved.
Brad's not keen though, and James is terrified, so the men of the house have waged a war. First of all they tried the nice way. No dice. So things got a bit more serious. Again, nothing biting. Tried the fun way. And eventually, the messy way.
(The furthest I ever got involved was by swapping the cheese in the trap for a Ferrero Giotto.)
Nothing's worked though, so last night I came home to find Brad lying under the table with the lights off, holding a piece of string attached to a shoebox drop-trap. (whispers: "I'm catching mice!")
Frankly, I'm a bit bored of it though. If nobody's caught one by the end of the week I might employ someone with a flamethrower, or borrow a cat that can use a hammer.

Big Chill

2005-11-14T17:49:00.000Z

When I was growing up, living in England involved hugging the radiator in your sleep, stuffing newspaper down the sides of the windows to stop them rattling, wearing two jumpers for the first half an hour of the day, and heating your hands and face up with the steam of a cup-a-soup. And that was all before I lived in Sheffield, where you would have to wrap yourself in a duvet some mornings just to put the bins out.
So what's going on with this global warming nonsense. Apparently temperatures have been in the mid 20s over the weekend. I've been wearing a t-shirt around Camden, and it's bloody November. We had the hottest October since records began (1914). Anyway, apparently it's all over, and this week we're going to see temperatures plummet by 20 degrees to minus 4, sparking a mini ice-age, which is nothing to do with the release of the sequel to the Disney film of the same name.
It's all a bit crazy. To signify the oncoming apocalypse, this evening we were treated to London's Most Amazing Ever Sunset(TM). Being in a "creative" office, everyone went into a frenzy of oohs, aahs, and frantic blind opening. There were a few gags about shepherds being delighted, a nuclear dawn, that sort of thing, I inadvertently offended someone by saying "I wish it bloody was the holocaust" (I meant Armageddon).

In a rare moment of romance (amongst the barrage of wisecracks and sarcasm that is our relationship), me and Brad (who I was on the phone to at the time) realised we were looking at the same aeroplane.

Anyway, despite being quite creative myself, I managed to take, with my phone, the worst and most unblogworthy picture of a sunset in existence. Here it is! Along with a random full-stop that I can't seem to delete.

.

Eternal Youth

2005-11-14T11:56:00.000Z

This morning someone in the office assumed I was under 25. It was a wonderful feeling. I am frantically gulping down evian and milk thistle to see if I can get it down to 20 by the end of the week.

This Friday I found a huge cabbage flower on the floor of the George and Dragon. Imagine my surprise when I noticed that it had a grumpy old man's face. It was very dark, but by holding a lighter near it, and tweaking the contrast, I have been able to bring you this grainy photo. He's very grumpy isn't he.

Hmm. This week's web advice is, don't accept gifts from strangers unless you want them to start investigating you on the electoral roll and frightening your flatmates. Yes,I'm talking parkas *again*.
Here it is.
That's your lot, think it might be wise to draw a line under this now...

Park Life

2005-11-11T11:31:00.000Z

Not the most original post title. My exciting news is that I've received my special mystery parka, so expect the long awaited parka pics on Monday.

In other news, I've just discovered there is a witch in our midst...

The Perfect Blend

2005-11-10T13:55:00.000Z

Now, being a fan of crap art on the internet, imagine my glee when I came across this picture of, ladies and gentlemen, Miss
Kylie Minogue.
Hunky Stefan Dennis doesn't get off too lightly either. He's the one on the right.
You can email the artist at ausoaps@yahoo.com if you'd like to request a portrait of your favourite Neighbours star.

BROKEback mountain

2005-11-09T16:52:00.000Z

Just to clear up any confusion, that was a deliberate pun.

Bareback Mountain

2005-11-09T15:43:00.000Z

Now, when I was little, it was my ambition to be in an action film playing the not-the-man role. I believe this is chapter one in how you know you're gay. I didn't really want the accoutrements of womanhood: Princess Leia's buns, Raquel Welsh's fur bikini and least of all Kate Capshaw's boobs. But I did kind of like the idea of scuttling behind Harrison Ford as he shot the monsters. Or swinging with Luke across that hi-tech ravine. Or sitting on the back of Clint's horse.
Thanks to the magic of merchandising, I was more than able to make this happen. In my Star Wars world, Han spent most of his time pulling Luke from the jaws of death (the cat/the bath/a man-eating flowerbed). Leia, a bunned irritation, would often end up falling several thousand feet to her doom at the bottom of the volcano (stairs). All four of my chief lego knights had a younger more attractive boyfriend, who was usually some sort of assistant. Occasionally, a peer. The two lego spacemen who would time travel to bump into them were a couple. When my playmobile (which, let's face it, was a shit toy) cable car went flying out of the bedroom window, strangely, only the men survived. I inherited an action man from each brother. They shared a tent (two coat-hangers and a pillow case).
I'll get to the point now.
I. Cannot. Even. Begin. to express my excitement at the prospect of this film.
It's not exactly an action thriller, but it's a start. They're COWBOYS. I'm hoping this is a sign of things to come. Gays in space! Gays in Mi5! In the meantime, let's all say hello to my new Jake Gyllenhaal obsession.

Pin the tail on the Mokey

2005-11-08T14:15:00.000Z

As a birthday tribute to the lovely Adriana, I have decided to post my two favourite lookalikes. Happy birthday cobber!

Geekle

2005-11-07T14:40:00.000Z

I've discovered a new game where you ask Google to tell your fortune. You just type your first name in followed by "needs" and see what it tells you. Most of the below are remarkably accurate. HOURS of fun, literally.

Rick needs bail money
Rick needs you
Rick needs to try multi grain breads
Rick needs to be aware at all times
Rick needs to be on contract
Rick needs his dad
Rick needs your help as all of our campaigns for constitutional freedom from government need volunteers
Rick needs to be cloned
Rick needs to produce and know what data resources are
Rick needs to lighten up and allow everyone to be human
Rick needs our help to continue his fight for a better Pennsylvania
Rick needs to lay off the steroids
Rick needs to fix your clock

Acoustic Hate

2005-11-04T13:19:00.000Z

Agh. I have become a K*tie M*lua fansite!
I have just discovered that a large number of people end up at this blog by typing "Ten Million Bicycles" into Google - thanks to a passing reference I made to her appalling music a while back.
I don't want Mlooettes in here. In fact, I pre-empted this and tried to prevent it by getting the line wrong. It should be NINE not ten (m*llion b*cycles) which just goes to show that you have to be stupid to the point of being innumerate (and presumably illiterate, and deaf) to buy her records.
This whole singer-songwriter thing is beginning to scare me more than the American government. We are witnessing a return to the barren old days of late 80s/early 90s tripe like Tracy Chapman, Tamsin Archer, REM, Tinita Tikaram etc. It won't be long before we're all wearing tweed and paisley.
Someone on popbitch summed it up nicely yesterday: "I don't know who's worse. This fucker [picture of James Blunt] or the one in the wolly [sic] hat who sings you've had a bad day". The answer to this is, in pure terms, the one in the wolly hat, although Blunt deserves more derision, for being the more successful of the two.
I leave you with this thought. There is an album out called acoustic love consisting of Blunt, Gray, Powter, Rice, Fretwell, Dido (Etc)
Don't have nightmares. Do sleep well.

PS. In order to attract a better readership through Google, I need to constantly mention things I like, rather than things I don't. Todays list: The Nine Black Alps, Hard-Fi's Stars of CCTV, bacon sandwiches, and luminous socks.

I will not use the "Kamp" pun. I will not use the "Kamp" pun.

2005-11-03T15:16:00.000Z

Well, rather excitingly today I received some insider celebrity alleged gossip. From about 12 hundred different people - so stop me if this isn't news. Allegedly, Ross Kemp's bust up with his (quite butch and domineering not-a-lesbian newspaper editor) wife was triggered allegedly by an alleged affair with an alleged MAN, of the male variety.
Ooh.
Responses in the office have varied from "Oh I knew he was gay, Barbara Windsor told me" to "Oh, I knew he was gay, Letitia Dean told me" to "Since when was he married? I thought he was gay?"
I had no idea, although before he became a little bit *too* fat, I did live in hope. I had a lovely dream about him once - or rather, I thought it was a dream at the time. A lot of people have put a lot of strange things in my drinks over the years (Who can blame them).
So here's to Grant being the new Clint Walker - TV's original (allegedly) gay hard-as-nails enormous bouncer-type heavy, about whom I have many a story thanks to a particularly chatty taxi driver who used to be a set builder at Ealing studios. ALLEGEDLY.

So my question of the week. Grant or Clint - which one woud YOU do ?

the horse ran past the barn fell

2005-11-02T17:50:00.000Z

I found an old email today, about some high ratings for a TV programme, containing this rather poetic string of nonsense nouns. We love jargon:

"Fantastic! Absolutely superb. Wonder if it's a record for a 9pm slot with a brand new non comedy orgination? Well done everyone."

Tripe

2005-11-02T13:16:00.000Z

I suppose this means that we won't be seeing the back of fat "unfunnier EVEN than Jimmy Carr" cunt Chris Moyles for a while to come.
At a time when mass-market tripe has reached previously unsurpassed skyscraper proportioned turd-pinnacles of shitness , I can't help but wonder - could there be a better time to leave the country?

Live the brand

2005-10-31T14:37:00.000Z

Try as I can, I can't seem to remember what my new company is called. I wish they'd put some signs up. Maybe in the kitchen, or a small name-plate above the door would do.

Busy

2005-10-31T12:16:00.000Z

For those of you that haven't been following the fascinating ups and downs of BBC Broadcast, you may not know that it, where I work, has been sold to an Australian bank, given a new name, and re-branded. As of today, I no longer work for aunty.
<=====The fun starts here
I am contractually disallowed from having a public opinion, be it negative or positive. The new name, has however, been met with widespread derision from my friends, who have taken great delight in asking me if I now work for a toyshop/children's book company.
I am not sure why the jokes
I am actually feeling fairly ambivalent about the whole thing. I got a new bag out of it, which will be lovely once I've unpicked the embroidery...

Park it

2005-10-27T11:29:00.000Z

I'm feeling a strange mixture of priviledge and second-rate today. This is because the mysterious "Parka Club" who asked Glitter-For-Brains to post a picture of himself in a parka, has now asked me the same question. Never one to jump on bandwagons *stern glance off camera* I'm going to leave this up to the public to decide, please vote using the vbarious contact methods available to you....
I feel a bit put out because GFB got offered a free parka, and I have to model my own. Which is, incidentally, not really a parka, but a sort of mobile duvet-house with central heating and fur trim. I've yet to encounter a day cold enough for it, although it's just about bearable if you wear nothing underneath, a la Princess Diana.

Heyeyeyey Mr Postman

2005-10-27T10:39:00.000Z

For those of you that have been frustrated by the lack of an email link, (How I love my little fantasy world) but too shy to post a "comment" I have finally installed one. *sits back and watches the tumbleweed roll in*
It's on the right there, somewhere... =====>

Hobart Closed

2005-10-24T14:31:00.000Z

Aw, I've just heard the sad news that Mr Simon Hobart, of Popstarz, Ghetto, and Trash Palace (in)fame has deeed. What a great excuse to wheel out the eyeliner this weekend (as if I needed one, not only is it Halloween, it's Alison's birthday). I met him once, you know. He wasn't very old, so it's all a bit of a *mystery*
Read more about it here.
I look forward to Attitude's tribute to Simon issue. I'm taking bets on which word from their cliche-saurus will feature most frequently. I'm going to go for LEGEND, as the world's yearly quota of ICON was used up in this month's Madonna issue.
Really, does anyone actually know what "icon" means? Madonna is not an icon, she's a pop singer. Can I click on her to open Windows? No. Is she a piece of wood with a religious face painted on her? Well, yes, but not in the traditional sense.
Is she a representation or likeness of an actual object? Again, debatable.
Is she an analogy for, or embodiment of, certain values? Low values maybe.
Lazy lazy lazy writing. Either the staff at Attitude are dumbing down for a stupid public (highly likely), or all the decent gay writers have gone to work for the Observer (again, likely).
I am thinking about putting my money where my mouth is and submitting some *work*. I'll let you know how it goes....

PS the title of this post is a lame and irrelevant reference to my natal street, Hobart Close in Stockport

Clang Clang Clang

2005-10-24T11:11:00.000Z

My last post (or could have been the one before) has proven to be a bit of a premonition. Thanks to the power of boyfriendinthebusiness, I went to see Joan Rivers last night. As it was a one-off, the audience was filled with A-list luminaries. Louis Walsh, Mark Feheelaheelahee (+ failed boyband beau), Norman Lamont, and Rachel Stevens to name ... erm ... all of them.
I had the priviledge of going to the aftershow party, an alcohol free stand-a-thon which lasted 20 minutes. Joan was getting on an overnight bus to Stoke on Trent.
She's fucking brilliant though. I love listening to old women swearing. I thought it was hilarious that someone like Rachel Stevens, the most talentles, personality-free, useless, stupid bitch the home counties have ever shit out, would have the nerve to go anywhere NEAR Joan. Presumably it was a Jewish thing. Like the fact I'm going to have to be friends with Elton John when I'm famous.

Who is Dave Gorman?

2005-10-21T13:13:00.000Z

Who cares! Far more interestingly, there is another Richard Bateson posting on the tinterweb.
He's a lathe enthusiast! Who'd have thought such a simple thing as a name could link two people so inextricably.
His favourite phrase?

"All-in-All it's a pretty nice piece of old iron."

Who could fail to love this man. Have a look at his machinery here.

Other Google research reveals that I ran the Wilmslow Half-Marathon in 1 hour 47 last year. Clearly this wasn't actually me, I gave my number-plate to a friend of my brother's. At least I can pretend to my grandchildren I used to be fit. Stealing other people's talent: Long may it continue.

Howe annoying

2005-10-20T15:54:00.000Z

Isn't it wonderful when someone you hate gets the business end of Joan Rivers.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/4360054.stm
Ironic that he used to front a show called "Devil's Advocate". Argumentative twat more like.

7 points for a granny

2005-10-19T10:37:00.000Z

There are ten million bicycles in Beijing. That's a fact. It's a thing!
Thanks Katie. But what she's omitted to point out, in her inimitably shit style, is that there are also ten million broken necks per day.
To find out why, let's take a look at my chart of the Top Five Most Dangerous Pedestrians.

5) Males, 25-45 (any race/colour).
Moving out of the way does not make you a poof.

4) People in Burkhas.
Take them off when you're crossing the road! They make you deaf! And give you tunnel vision!

3) The Chinese.
What is it with these jumpy, startled little fellas? Next time you see one, try clicking your fingers in his ear and see what radius of destruction you can create. Make sure you warn nearby shopkeepers to board up their windows first!

2) Dodgers.
If I ring my bell, it's to politely inform you that as long as you carry on walking the way you were I will be passing you, using a safe route that my quick-thinking mind has already planned out. It's not an invitation to leap, panic-stricken, into my path. Much like a goalie - you will always jump the wrong way

1) People getting off the bus in the wrong place.
Next time you're pleading with the bus driver to let you off in between stops, remember this. there are vehicles that travel alongside buses which might have assumed, stupidly, that because it's not a fucking bus stop, there probably won't be anybody getting off the fucking bus. If you absolutely have to, why not pop your head out first, rather than a weapons grade pram.

Falling just short of the top five were people with large numbers of children/dogs, people with umbrellas, people with a spacial awareness radius of 30cm, and Italian students with matching rucksacks.

Top Draw

2005-10-16T12:44:00.000Z

I've just discovered that black pepper oil smells exactly like weed. I found this quite funny, until I remembered Brad's mum and dad are coming round this afternoon and it smells like we've had public enemy round for a coffee morning.
You're probably wondering what I'm doing burning oil, given that I'm not a lesbian (although I do know how to adjust the tension on the alternator in a Ford Fiesta). I dunno. I just thought it might cut through the smell of nicotine, lager and socks. Unfortunately I'm now living on Cypress Hill. I toyed with the hilarious idea of counteracting this by putting some poppers in it but I think I managed to spill it all over my face a couple of weeks ago. Possibly. That may have been Sambuca. The memories are blurred these days.

In other news, I have just found a plastic fridge tie in my hair. In Columbo-esque style I have deduced this was something to do with finding my hat in the kitchen drawer yesterday.

Adult Humour

2005-10-14T13:50:00.000Z

Everything they say about estate agents is true. I've been thinking about selling my flat so I indulged in some "property porn" today on the internet. HErwith, some of the jargon I have encountered courtesy of Foxton's. (Commonly known as "cuntstons").

"QUIRKY" = No kitchen
"OPEN PLAN LIVING" = No bedroom
"CLEVERLY DESIGNED" = Poky
"A REAL SENSE OF SPACE" = No space
"PERFECTLY LOCATED WITH AN ARRAY OF TRENDY AMENITIES" = wedged above a row of run-down shops.

I am feeling a bit disheartened. The chances of finding somewhere that can accomodate Jabba the super-sofa as well as my piano are looking extraordiarily low.

Caption Competition

2005-10-13T10:26:00.000Z

While I'm on a photo tip, what's going on here?

Sow About That!

2005-10-13T10:10:00.000Z

I have discovered that in China, tattoo artists are trained on pork. Look!
And here's a live one. Look!

(Please submit your Posh Spice jokes below).

Chain of Fools

2005-10-11T15:51:00.000Z

As someone who prides himself on a superficial and lazy lifestyle, of lager, trainers and peroxide, the following fact has been a bit harder to get used to than the whole being gay thing: I am A Cyclist.
Having spent years hating/being run over by them, I am now one of those people that goes the wrong way down one-way streets, jumps red lights, rides on the pavement, sneaks up behind pedestrians and makes them jump with my dingding bell, and weaves around traffic in jams knocking off everyone's wing mirrors. It's fucking brilliant. I can go wherever I want whenever I want plus I get to get fit as I'm doing it AND I no longer need to use a hair dryer in the morning.
Not only all the above but I get to zoom through previously untreadable unlit areas of backstreet london, safe in the knowledge that nobody can catch me, and if they do, I've got a big chaint to hit them with.
All social anthropologists should have a bike. This morning on the Wornington estate - a particularly unglamorous oasis of Beirut between Goldborne Road and Ladbroke Grove - I saw a man training a rottweiler to kill. This is no word of a lie, he had it attacking a road-cone to which he'd sellotaped a cardboard cut-out head. He was training it well: The cone was mincemeat.
That's the nice thing about a bike over a car, you get to experience your environment. And then peddle away.

Office life

2005-10-04T10:31:00.000Z

Coming back to work in the *fabulous* Broadcast Centre is turning out to be quite educational.
Overheard in the lift:

"I made it with green beans, potatoes and carrots. Baby carrots. GOD it was gorgeous."

Also - how about this for an autoreply. I sent an email to Paula in Finance asking for all my computer access to be restored, and I got this:

"Apologies but I shall not be looking into this during month end.
Thanks,
P"

WTF? Is that the finance version of menstruation?

Testing

2005-10-01T11:17:00.000Z

So. Here I am again.
I've had to give up on having my own website, because it was too complicated. So this is an actual blog, like you read about in the Guardian. Could somebody who knows about computers please explain to me how to make it pink and put pictures of my trainers on it, etc.
In the meantime, you're probably wondering what inspired me to start writing it again. Well, I was a bit bored this morning, and downloading music etc, and I decided to investigate the new Madonna single.
Madonna/music - what's the link? What the fuck are you playing at? I hear you cry. Well, I read somewhere that, by using an Abba sample she's managed to do a bad imitation of that song where Danni Minogue sampled Madonna. Sorry, I've confused myself there. It's almost as complicated as when Debbie Reynolds appeared as Grace's mum in Will and Grace doing a piss-take of Shirley Maclaine doing a piss-take of Debbie Reynolds in Postcards From the Edge.

How gay am I being today.

Anyway. So Madonna has made another shit record. Big deal. Well, I haven't heard it but I did find a website where people were posting comments about what they thought it might be like based on a picture of the cover and a description by someone who thought he'd heard a bit of it in a club in New York. I had to share some of these comments with you, I have been laughing all morning. Look out for the comic misuse of "ironic" and "literally".

=====================================

Is that the position she landed in when she fell off her horse?

I think I'm scared...but so long as she has stopped rapping...we might all be ok.

Madonna is the new Cher! Um, nice shoes?

She looks pretty good in that picture. Hellooooooo airbrush.

Isn't she almost 50 or something? yikes.

"Wait, wait. Don't help me, I can get up on my own. It's just another broken hip."

Kylie wants to be Madonna. Madonna wants to be Kylie. Ironic!

I love madonna!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

For over twenty years, she makes history. This is a living legend. Respect !!!!!!!

I bet your Mum doesn't look that great.

It sounds to me like all the people who have nothing better to do than to trash Mrs. Ritchie, are suffering from a serious childhood experience.

She will always be Madonna and there is not a damn thing you can do about it.

Bravo! Madonna! You are the shit!!!!

fuck you all madoona is richer and better then you and ur sad little pathetic lives. go jump of a bridge whilst listening to like a prayer u fugly skank whores.

Madonna is one of the greatest singers of our time, and she proved that in Holland last year.

I can't believe all these people still hate Madonna. That is so 1992! She has matured into a phenomenal philanthropist and maternal role-model.

She's just a person and a singer who has moments of genius.

i find it funny that if anyone criticises her, fans go crazy. none of you actually know her - what u see is what she wants you to see. take off the blinkers and concentrate on something a little more tangible.

For all the Madonna haters, lets look at it from a real perspective...
how many of you will ever win numerous MTV/Billboard/VH-1/Rollingstones or AMA?
...NONE
how many of you will ever win numerous American Music,or Grammy Awards ? hmmm?.
..NADA
how many of you will win a GoldenGlobe for a lead role in an epic musical?
...NIL
how many of you will be a best selling book author of 5 books in 9 different languages, sell millions and donate all the proceeds to charity?
pfff!...YA RIGHT...ZERO
how many of you will ever take risks in life and become a pioneer, trailblazer and fashion/music icon and remain a powerful creative force for 20 years?
....OH thats tuff!
The reality IS Madonna's success scares those that are not willing to be inspired by it.

please do your research right and get the facts together before you bitch about the queen, she has been copied and sampled so many times that it frightens me .

*.*.*MADONNA IS NOT THE NEW CHER.*.*. .*.*.*
MADONNA IS AND ALWAYS WILL BE MADONNA.*.*.
POST FROM BRAZIL

Um, if it wasnt for the gay men that want to Be MADONNa, she would have been a has been by now.

SHE IS WASHED UP AND OVER THE HILL

Of course people can be skeptical of her new single since it is not fully out yet.

to say Madonna is talentless despite 20 years of tremendous success and innovation, and diss her because shes 47 years old is absurd
Wake up people. Madonna and other people in this lifetime are here to inspire us to be our best, push our limits and evolve and all you can do is dog her.

IT'S ENOUGH ALREADY! I THANK FOR EVERY DAY HER EXISTENCE And CONTINUITY. SHE IS THE BEST ONE!!!! And To WHO IT DOES NOT LIKE... shut up!!

Madonna. Where would the music industry be without this Dynamic woman

MADONNA THE QUEEN, THE PHENOMENON, THE IDOL,THE ICON,THE ADORED,THE NUMBER 1.MADONNA YOUR ZILLION FANS ADORE U!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! RESPECT THE GODDESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Becuase its Madonna doesn't mean it'll be good" ER, has Madonna ever produced a shit record? I think not.

Just remember all you stupid twats slagging Madonna off for being 'old' that you too will be 47 one day

Ok, just because it's Madonna doesn't mean it will be great, I mean, Bedtimes Stories wasn't exactly a stunning album, infact if it had been anyone other than Madonna I wouldn't own it

The simple fact here is that no matter how much you hate Madonna, I really doubt she cares.

she is 47 a supererb looking women WITHOUT sergerie or botox and she owns her own record lable

it's amazing how one person can have such an effect on people, insomuch that people literally live and breath madonna on a daily basis.