Christmas, a time when mistletoe replaces rohypnol...
It's that time of year where Noddy Holder can eat again thanks to Royalties and everyone puts aside the fact that their Bernard Matthews turkey most probably contains bird flu.
A time when all that is left of Brazilian rain forests is a small strip down the middle, as everyone simultaneously feels the need to express their 'genuine' desire that friends and family have a 'merry' Christmas via the medium of a card (apparently a text message or fax lack sentiment).
This year parents everywhere will be explaining to their kids that Santa has been hit hard by the recession, so has had to lay off a few elves and use an energy saving light bulb for Rudolph's nose. Subsequently, there may be a Tesco's basics satsuma in the stocking and you're buggered if you think your getting a Nintendo Wii this year sonny boy, my lad, my son.
The RSPCA are campaigning that it's cruel to make reindeer's fly round the world in one night and unfortunately British Airways which was plan B has gone tits up thanks to the Unions.
Don't worry though Santa, you can blame any delays on the weather conditions which are probably worse than the North Pole at the moment, or perhaps put it down to the extra safety measures that are in place due to the continued threat of terrorism (stop funding them with those pirate DVD's).
The kids were going to find out sooner or later that it was all a facade and that Santa is as real as Jordan and Peter's divorce (topical). Perhaps they wouldn't feel so stupid for believing in him in the first place if Santa wasn't depicted as some fat bloke with magical flying reindeer. If Santa was built like Usain Bolt and flew the Bat Plane then maybe it would be more plausible.
Remember that moment when you found out that Santa wasn't real and you thought to yourself, yes with the power of hindsight it does seem a trifle odd that this rotund fellow can cram both his massive arse as well as every kid in the worlds gifts into a sleigh and manage to circumnavigate the globe in a handful of hours, but who am I to call my parents a liar and it's nothing as ridiculous as that God lad.
Maybe subconsciously we just go along with it as it's much easier to say Santa has sh*t taste in jumpers than to relay this same accusation directly to ma or pa. To be honest I was part glad to find out that Santa was make believe, even as an innocent child growing up prior to the era when Glitter really hit his stride, I was still not keen on the idea of this old bearded bloke sneaking into my bedroom in the middle of the night (don't make me place an injunction on you Santa).
Perhaps the real tragedy is that some parents who, whilst not wanting to be labelled liars by their first born but hard up from the recession, will tell their kids that unfortunately NHS waiting queues were so long that Santa couldn't get the gastric band operation needed in time and died of clogged arteries caused by the consumption of too many mince pies.
But anyway we persevere, we put a synthetic plastic tree in our living room and dress it up with figurines of Santa (the fat jolly one, not the Usain Bolt Bat Plane one) and glitter and gold. We praise Jesus by competing with our neighbours for who can have the highest wattage of fluorescent lighting adorned around our humble abode.
Random pensioners knock on your door demanding money for charity in exchange for raping your ears with a medley of Christmas Carols (this does not count as contributing to society, you still serve no purpose). 'Do they know it's Christmas time at all' they sing, in reference to all those impoverished in Africa. No they don't is the answer, they don't have a bloody clue. Firstly they are predominantly Muslim countries that don't celebrate Christmas and secondly don't go telling them it's Christmas as that's one more thing they are going to get upset about missing out on.
Meanwhile the rising number of vegetarians means that nutmeg is now becoming a popular alternative to turkey (can't catch bird flu from a nut Mr. B Matthews). The package now legally having to explain that nutmeg contains nut. Now I'm a big believer in the motto better safe than sorry, but if you have a nut allergy and eat a type of food that has the word nut in it's name then both Darwin and I think you should die. Unfortunately medical professionals funded by my taxes will probably keep you alive.
Young couples, not yet burdened by the financial ball and chain that is children, will exchange gifts of equal value. The girlfriend or wife, will compare their gifts with those received by their friends and sisters after which their significant other will either receive a tirade of abuse or adulation (money can't buy you love, but it can save a lot of aggro). The man may contest that his gift came from the heart, alas the girlfriend would prefer it came from Tiffany's.
For families it is a reason to get back together...and then quickly realise why you left it so long in the first place. Mothers and Grandmothers will insist upon watching hours of soaps, with their festive themes of betrayal, brutality, loss and dogging (sorry that last one was Steve 'Phil Mitchell' McFadden in real life, I get confused). Will someone die in this year's extended finale? No, just my soul. We will further smite the allegedly Jewish Jesus with the mass consumption of pigs in a blanket, (pork wrapped in pork) and then to add insult to injury Cliff Richard will dance and sing on his grave and grow rich off a lazy remix of the Lord's prayer (I bet Jesus didn't even see any royalties).
The Queen will have to put in a shift, give a speech, wear a hat, the whole shebang, she's got the rest of the year to relax so for this one day she can dance to our merry tune. Alternatively maybe they can give Prince Phillip a turn this year?
Back to TV and Macauley Culkin's family will leave him again (and eventually so will Michael Jackson). Adverts will tell you that there is literally nothing more important than buying a new sofa (even though they won't actually have the one you want in stock until 2011). 'Buy now' they say, 'pay 54 years later in 1,179 easy month instalments', it's good to know we have learned from the recession.
But for everything, we must be grateful for the get out of jail free card that is the Christmas period. Turn up drunk to work on a Tuesday, hey it's Christmas. Didn't get that proposal over in time, no problem it's Christmas. Just recreated a Nazi style underground bondage orgy with the help of 15 prostitutes, come on it's...no Max Moseley, not even at Christmas.
Monday 21 December 2009
Twit for Twats
Alex Cornford is currently doing...nothing of interest.
So Twitter...really do we have to do this now too? A social phenomenon, a revolution of the blog format, or a condensed version of Heat magazine for those that found Heat a bit of a heavy read. I'll admit I'm weak I signed up, curiosity got the better of me and I needed to find out what all the fuss is about. Imagine my delight to find out it is basically just an elaborate version of Facebook's status update. I now have 15 people following me, despite the fact that I have never actually written a post. More frighteningly I don't even know who most of them are. My guess is that a lot of people like the strong and silent type, or that society is full of numerous clinically bored individuals who literally have nothing better to do than to follow blank pages (was this really part of the grand design God?).
Living your life vicariously through George Clooney is one thing, but when you are moist in anticipation awaiting my latest update it's time to jump. I can't condone, but can understand why gossip hungry over oestrogened lady folk may want to follow Jude Law, after all he is quite dreamy and it is of course imperative to conclude that he is also a great and deep guy before buying the topless poster for the bedroom wall. Hey you may even be able to find out what makes him tick so that when you do meet you can be his ideal girl (and you will meet as he 'tweets' abouts his favourite coffee shop regularly, so by pitching a tent and keeping vigil outside said coffee shop you're bound to bump into him eventually...before the men in white coats carry you away). After all he doesn't care about looks, you just need to have a great personality and a kind hearted disposition (or do a stint as his nanny). And yes I'm sure the life of a celebrity is pretty good (unless you're currently Tiger Woods, don't see him tweeting too much of late - naughty boy) so maybe they do lead such an exciting life that they have interesting daily updates worthy of regaling to Jo and Josephine public, but why would anyone want to follow my daily life? I could tell you what I watched on TV last night and give my opinions, but then so can the TV Guide. I could let you know that I have eaten chicken nuggets and chips for the third day running as there was an offer on a Tesco basics 60 piece bag, would that entertain you? Would you like to hear about my train being delayed due to signal failure, or that I ran out of toilet roll so had to get creative and use a Flash wipe and now have a rash that I don't feel like going to the doctor with? No of course you don't, it's all mundane tedious tosh.
What perhaps makes the whole thing even more incomprehendable is that within the confined bubble of this site Ashton Kutcher is king. Yes this is the same Ashton Kutcher that was the star turn in such cinematic masterpieces as Just Married and of course the unforgettable Dude Wheres my Car. The very same Ashton Kutcher who rose to fame in stellar comedy That 70's Show and the man that brought you the ground breaking Punk'd. Apparently there are more people 'following' Ashton Kutcher than CNN. Of all the people to stalk, why him?
Because that is essentially what Twitter boils down to, it like Facebook is the acceptable face of stalking. As I have always said why follow someone online, when you can follow them to their home... I guess in a society where you can actually ask a qualified doctor to staple your stomach, even the stalkers are becoming more and more lazy. In the dizzy hey day of stalking, real effort would have been put in, rubbish riled through, binoculars purchased (I'm a keen bird watcher, honest, yeah whatever Bill Oddie we know the sordid truth) but no more. Shares in infra red goggles have declined while mouse wrist supports have gone through the roof. The phenomenon of Twitter hasn't gone unnoticed by the big fromages at Google and Microsoft and such is the impact it has made that 'tweets' are now listed in their respective search engines so that people can search for the very latest social commentary in the same way you would search for the nearest cinema, or adult jazz.
For those of you less nerdy than me, what this actually means is that if you are the very first person to comment on a unique subject that people are searching for they will invariably read your 'tweet'. No longer is the word of Google confined to coding monkeys, you my friend can potentially have your voice heard by the world. It's almost like Google (one of the most largest, most powerful, most most companies in the world) is endorsing you! If you were the guy who first found out that the worlds most famous golfer had almost certainly at one point put 'the tiger in you' (not such a clever strap line now is it Frosties) and 'tweeted' about it then once the story broke, you would be one of the most influential people out there.
Now chances are that you are not going to break a big story, but think of the personal misery you can inflict upon your not so loved ones. If you think that Susan in accounts is a slag, then by gum 'tweet' my good man and tell the world! Before long both Google and you will think Susan is a slag and that's got to count for something.
So knock yourself out, slander your ex, tell your computer illiterate mother in law exactly what you think...just don't follow me you massive weirdo.
p.s. in a recent poll Peter Andre was voted the tenth most influential person on twitter, I hope you are proud of yourselves.
So Twitter...really do we have to do this now too? A social phenomenon, a revolution of the blog format, or a condensed version of Heat magazine for those that found Heat a bit of a heavy read. I'll admit I'm weak I signed up, curiosity got the better of me and I needed to find out what all the fuss is about. Imagine my delight to find out it is basically just an elaborate version of Facebook's status update. I now have 15 people following me, despite the fact that I have never actually written a post. More frighteningly I don't even know who most of them are. My guess is that a lot of people like the strong and silent type, or that society is full of numerous clinically bored individuals who literally have nothing better to do than to follow blank pages (was this really part of the grand design God?).
Living your life vicariously through George Clooney is one thing, but when you are moist in anticipation awaiting my latest update it's time to jump. I can't condone, but can understand why gossip hungry over oestrogened lady folk may want to follow Jude Law, after all he is quite dreamy and it is of course imperative to conclude that he is also a great and deep guy before buying the topless poster for the bedroom wall. Hey you may even be able to find out what makes him tick so that when you do meet you can be his ideal girl (and you will meet as he 'tweets' abouts his favourite coffee shop regularly, so by pitching a tent and keeping vigil outside said coffee shop you're bound to bump into him eventually...before the men in white coats carry you away). After all he doesn't care about looks, you just need to have a great personality and a kind hearted disposition (or do a stint as his nanny). And yes I'm sure the life of a celebrity is pretty good (unless you're currently Tiger Woods, don't see him tweeting too much of late - naughty boy) so maybe they do lead such an exciting life that they have interesting daily updates worthy of regaling to Jo and Josephine public, but why would anyone want to follow my daily life? I could tell you what I watched on TV last night and give my opinions, but then so can the TV Guide. I could let you know that I have eaten chicken nuggets and chips for the third day running as there was an offer on a Tesco basics 60 piece bag, would that entertain you? Would you like to hear about my train being delayed due to signal failure, or that I ran out of toilet roll so had to get creative and use a Flash wipe and now have a rash that I don't feel like going to the doctor with? No of course you don't, it's all mundane tedious tosh.
What perhaps makes the whole thing even more incomprehendable is that within the confined bubble of this site Ashton Kutcher is king. Yes this is the same Ashton Kutcher that was the star turn in such cinematic masterpieces as Just Married and of course the unforgettable Dude Wheres my Car. The very same Ashton Kutcher who rose to fame in stellar comedy That 70's Show and the man that brought you the ground breaking Punk'd. Apparently there are more people 'following' Ashton Kutcher than CNN. Of all the people to stalk, why him?
Because that is essentially what Twitter boils down to, it like Facebook is the acceptable face of stalking. As I have always said why follow someone online, when you can follow them to their home... I guess in a society where you can actually ask a qualified doctor to staple your stomach, even the stalkers are becoming more and more lazy. In the dizzy hey day of stalking, real effort would have been put in, rubbish riled through, binoculars purchased (I'm a keen bird watcher, honest, yeah whatever Bill Oddie we know the sordid truth) but no more. Shares in infra red goggles have declined while mouse wrist supports have gone through the roof. The phenomenon of Twitter hasn't gone unnoticed by the big fromages at Google and Microsoft and such is the impact it has made that 'tweets' are now listed in their respective search engines so that people can search for the very latest social commentary in the same way you would search for the nearest cinema, or adult jazz.
For those of you less nerdy than me, what this actually means is that if you are the very first person to comment on a unique subject that people are searching for they will invariably read your 'tweet'. No longer is the word of Google confined to coding monkeys, you my friend can potentially have your voice heard by the world. It's almost like Google (one of the most largest, most powerful, most most companies in the world) is endorsing you! If you were the guy who first found out that the worlds most famous golfer had almost certainly at one point put 'the tiger in you' (not such a clever strap line now is it Frosties) and 'tweeted' about it then once the story broke, you would be one of the most influential people out there.
Now chances are that you are not going to break a big story, but think of the personal misery you can inflict upon your not so loved ones. If you think that Susan in accounts is a slag, then by gum 'tweet' my good man and tell the world! Before long both Google and you will think Susan is a slag and that's got to count for something.
So knock yourself out, slander your ex, tell your computer illiterate mother in law exactly what you think...just don't follow me you massive weirdo.
p.s. in a recent poll Peter Andre was voted the tenth most influential person on twitter, I hope you are proud of yourselves.
Sunday 22 February 2009
Sounds Impressive.
I'd Guava use Papaya...
If I was to ask you what is Bifidus ActiRegularis, would you know? No of course you wouldn't, you wouldn't have a clue, no one would. And yet if I was to give you the choice of two generic brand yoghurt's of the same flavour and then added that one contained Bifidus ActiRegularis, without a moments hesitation you would opt for the one with Bifidus ActiRegularis.
And why do we act this way, the reasons my friends is simply because it sounds fancy. It sounds bloody impressive and as ridiculous as it sounds people don't like to admit that they have no idea what Bifidus ActiRegularis is in case they sound stupid, as if you would become the point of ridicule for not knowing. So rather than take the very reasonable course of action of questioning it's merits further, you keep quiet and assume that it must be good for you.
The clever people at Danone cottoned onto this and launched a whole advertising campaign around their Activia range of yoghurt, they even stuck in the term 'digestive transit' for good measure, the shrewd swines. And the end result? The weak willed, easily convinced, sheep like fools like me went out and bought some. For all I know Bifidus ActiRegularis could be latin for knob rot, but subliminally I guess my mindset was that a company like Danone wouldn't have spent so much money on a national advertising campaign and 'celebrity' spokeswoman Nell McAndrew if it wasn't something revolutionary to the world of yogurt. As soon as she uttered the words 'stops you feeling so blurted after a big meal' in her dulcet northern tones I was convinced.
But what would of happened if I had delved deeper? What if I hadn't been concerned that drinking buddy Dave thought I was a 'plank' for not knowing my ancient greek for yogurt related terminology, what would I have found? According to the official website http://www.danoneactivia.co.uk/,
"Activia contains probiotics - live microorganisms which, when eaten live and in sufficient quantities, have a beneficial effect on our health – so it is classed as a probiotic product".
So to clarify, the yogurt contains little, living animals...ok not too sure about that, I don't even like to eat sushi in case it makes a late comeback, let alone something that is still alive. And actually thinking about it, if this yogurt helps with my 'digestive transit', surely that's just science talk for its going to make me poo more? Don't laxatives have the same effect and as far as I know doctors aren't advocating laxatives as the answer to fatties prayers. The more you think about it, the more it sounds less appealing, but it's too late now I have already bought the required quota from them, making their Activia range a massive success.
And it's not just yogurt that warrants additional consideration, shampoo companies have been peddling the same rubbish for years. Who cares that a conditioner contains guava extract. If I gave you a banana, would it ever cross your mind to start mashing it into your head the next time you took a shower. No of course it wouldn't, only the mentally deranged would think to do that, if anything you would need to spend a considerable amount of time washing the fruit OUT of your hair, so why should it be any different for papaya, or apricots 'extract'?
For the sake of argument, let's give these companies the benefit of the doubt and say that coconut was good for a glossy mane like finish, how the hell do they find this out? Can you imagine being the first guy to 'research' washing your hair with and avocado? Even if you found out that it was good for you how do you tell someone without them thinking you're an idiot? If someone told me that they had tried washing their hair with fruit, my first and very reasonable question would be to ask what had compelled them to do so? You would have to make something up, lie that you were out of shampoo and that the only thing you had in the house was an avocado multi pack. Even then you would have to manifest some sort of hair related emergency (should such a thing exist) that prompted you to entertain this bizarre act.
And its not just fruit that is allegedly good for your mullet. People would have you believe that a winning mixture of eggs, vinegar and mayonnaise will give your barnett the matt finish you have always wanted. Even if this was true, what would the point be? Sure you may look attractive from a distance, but as soon as people were close enough to realise you smelt like a fry up any initial interest would diminish pretty rapidly. Still credit to the marketing manager for thinking outside of the egg box, with sales dwindling because our nation refuse to eat anything outside of cheese and pork, they obviously realised that eggs needed to serve an additional purpose in society to ensure share prices remained buoyant, so why not spread some rumours that it works wonders as an alternative to L' Oreal. Slogans change from 'Eggs, fast food and good for you' to 'Eggs, vinegar and mayonaise, because your worth it'.
I understand the need to make a living, but why don't they try going for something that's more plausible? '5 a day' was always an ambitious sales target for fruit and veg companies to meet, but rather than trying to supplement takings through ridiculous measures like 'carrot cake' (as if your going to try and slip a vegetable into one of my dessert dishes) why not go for something more believable? Fruits generally smell nice, so why not try telling the credit crunch nation that rather than paying fifty quid a pop on eau de toilette, than an equally good measure would be to crush a punnet of strawberry's under each armpit? Hell you could even spin some nonsense that the strawberry absorbs through your pores and contributes to the consumption of your '5 a day'. Sales increase, government health targets get hit (sort of) and you never know, some people having filled their fruit bowl to the brim may actually take the extreme and more traditional measure of eating some of it.
Fruit eaten in large consumptions notoriously gives you the runs, therefore assisting no end with the 'digestive transit' meaning that you don't have to buy litres of yogurt in the first place...or do you?
Just as you think you have relinquished the grip of the yogurt barons, Danone, aware of the threat strike a deal with fruit companies to include fruit in the base of all their Activia yogurts. Capitalising on the fruit based addition, they then go aggressively after the shampoo market, as of course, obviously, yogurt makes hair softer. So in full yogurt will give you shiny soft hair, helps with the old digestive transit, smells nice and can be used to moisturise skin (why not), is there anything this miracle in a pot can't do? Danone, I'm back in, sorry for every doubting you.
Now if you will excuse me ladies and gentlemen, I need to go buy a tub of Bifidus ActiRegularis and see if applied correctly it can cure erectile dysfunction.
If I was to ask you what is Bifidus ActiRegularis, would you know? No of course you wouldn't, you wouldn't have a clue, no one would. And yet if I was to give you the choice of two generic brand yoghurt's of the same flavour and then added that one contained Bifidus ActiRegularis, without a moments hesitation you would opt for the one with Bifidus ActiRegularis.
And why do we act this way, the reasons my friends is simply because it sounds fancy. It sounds bloody impressive and as ridiculous as it sounds people don't like to admit that they have no idea what Bifidus ActiRegularis is in case they sound stupid, as if you would become the point of ridicule for not knowing. So rather than take the very reasonable course of action of questioning it's merits further, you keep quiet and assume that it must be good for you.
The clever people at Danone cottoned onto this and launched a whole advertising campaign around their Activia range of yoghurt, they even stuck in the term 'digestive transit' for good measure, the shrewd swines. And the end result? The weak willed, easily convinced, sheep like fools like me went out and bought some. For all I know Bifidus ActiRegularis could be latin for knob rot, but subliminally I guess my mindset was that a company like Danone wouldn't have spent so much money on a national advertising campaign and 'celebrity' spokeswoman Nell McAndrew if it wasn't something revolutionary to the world of yogurt. As soon as she uttered the words 'stops you feeling so blurted after a big meal' in her dulcet northern tones I was convinced.
But what would of happened if I had delved deeper? What if I hadn't been concerned that drinking buddy Dave thought I was a 'plank' for not knowing my ancient greek for yogurt related terminology, what would I have found? According to the official website http://www.danoneactivia.co.uk/,
"Activia contains probiotics - live microorganisms which, when eaten live and in sufficient quantities, have a beneficial effect on our health – so it is classed as a probiotic product".
So to clarify, the yogurt contains little, living animals...ok not too sure about that, I don't even like to eat sushi in case it makes a late comeback, let alone something that is still alive. And actually thinking about it, if this yogurt helps with my 'digestive transit', surely that's just science talk for its going to make me poo more? Don't laxatives have the same effect and as far as I know doctors aren't advocating laxatives as the answer to fatties prayers. The more you think about it, the more it sounds less appealing, but it's too late now I have already bought the required quota from them, making their Activia range a massive success.
And it's not just yogurt that warrants additional consideration, shampoo companies have been peddling the same rubbish for years. Who cares that a conditioner contains guava extract. If I gave you a banana, would it ever cross your mind to start mashing it into your head the next time you took a shower. No of course it wouldn't, only the mentally deranged would think to do that, if anything you would need to spend a considerable amount of time washing the fruit OUT of your hair, so why should it be any different for papaya, or apricots 'extract'?
For the sake of argument, let's give these companies the benefit of the doubt and say that coconut was good for a glossy mane like finish, how the hell do they find this out? Can you imagine being the first guy to 'research' washing your hair with and avocado? Even if you found out that it was good for you how do you tell someone without them thinking you're an idiot? If someone told me that they had tried washing their hair with fruit, my first and very reasonable question would be to ask what had compelled them to do so? You would have to make something up, lie that you were out of shampoo and that the only thing you had in the house was an avocado multi pack. Even then you would have to manifest some sort of hair related emergency (should such a thing exist) that prompted you to entertain this bizarre act.
And its not just fruit that is allegedly good for your mullet. People would have you believe that a winning mixture of eggs, vinegar and mayonnaise will give your barnett the matt finish you have always wanted. Even if this was true, what would the point be? Sure you may look attractive from a distance, but as soon as people were close enough to realise you smelt like a fry up any initial interest would diminish pretty rapidly. Still credit to the marketing manager for thinking outside of the egg box, with sales dwindling because our nation refuse to eat anything outside of cheese and pork, they obviously realised that eggs needed to serve an additional purpose in society to ensure share prices remained buoyant, so why not spread some rumours that it works wonders as an alternative to L' Oreal. Slogans change from 'Eggs, fast food and good for you' to 'Eggs, vinegar and mayonaise, because your worth it'.
I understand the need to make a living, but why don't they try going for something that's more plausible? '5 a day' was always an ambitious sales target for fruit and veg companies to meet, but rather than trying to supplement takings through ridiculous measures like 'carrot cake' (as if your going to try and slip a vegetable into one of my dessert dishes) why not go for something more believable? Fruits generally smell nice, so why not try telling the credit crunch nation that rather than paying fifty quid a pop on eau de toilette, than an equally good measure would be to crush a punnet of strawberry's under each armpit? Hell you could even spin some nonsense that the strawberry absorbs through your pores and contributes to the consumption of your '5 a day'. Sales increase, government health targets get hit (sort of) and you never know, some people having filled their fruit bowl to the brim may actually take the extreme and more traditional measure of eating some of it.
Fruit eaten in large consumptions notoriously gives you the runs, therefore assisting no end with the 'digestive transit' meaning that you don't have to buy litres of yogurt in the first place...or do you?
Just as you think you have relinquished the grip of the yogurt barons, Danone, aware of the threat strike a deal with fruit companies to include fruit in the base of all their Activia yogurts. Capitalising on the fruit based addition, they then go aggressively after the shampoo market, as of course, obviously, yogurt makes hair softer. So in full yogurt will give you shiny soft hair, helps with the old digestive transit, smells nice and can be used to moisturise skin (why not), is there anything this miracle in a pot can't do? Danone, I'm back in, sorry for every doubting you.
Now if you will excuse me ladies and gentlemen, I need to go buy a tub of Bifidus ActiRegularis and see if applied correctly it can cure erectile dysfunction.
Tuesday 27 January 2009
God created the world in seven days...what a cowboy.
Apparently God is Omnipotent, but being God he should be able to find a cure for that...
So God created the world in seven days eh? The only way that is feasible is if he built Poland first and got the Polish builders to muck in for the remaining days. Even then, seven days is a bit of a push, I mean Rome alone took more than a day to build so inevitably corners had to be cut.
Subsequently for every Sistene Chapel, Mona Lisa and Venice we have a Bluewater, a London Olympics logo and a Croydon. All in all planet earth is a bit like a B&Q kitchen, at first glance it looks great, but on closer inspection every things not quite as it should be.
Yes the big man created The Northern Lights, but he also created personalised mobile ring tones. If ye be faithful, then the genius that cooked up the 'crazy frog' was indeed the big cheese himself. What was wrong with 'ring ring', it did the job required? Now days if your phone goes 'ring ring' people think you are trying to be retro or ironic. You have to wear garments from Top Man just to pull off the overall look.
Why is it that people feel the need to express themselves through every facet of their being. Clothes I can accept as a form of expression, but a ring tone? Are these people thinking, 'if I have a hilarious ring tone, then people will in turn think I'm hilarious', no they won't they will think you're a twat. It's the modern day equivalent of the guy in the office who chose to demonstrate just how 'crazy' he was via an outlandish tie. Society is mocking you and you deserve it.
Perhaps the king of the ring tones is rap 'superstar' Akon with one of his biggest selling downloads being the appropriately titled 'Lonely'. Appropriate, as anyone who downloaded it deserves to be shunned and subsequently very bloody lonely for a long, long time. Almost as criminal a use of the mobile phone is text voting. I am of course talking about the type of vote systems commonly associated with 'prime time' Saturday night entertainment programming, the X Factors and Britain's got talents of this world.
The British public bleeding their bank accounts dry at £1 a pop so that fat bird Michelle McManus can claim her 'rightful' place as winner. Truly it was considered to be a victory for the morals of society... but was it really? On the crest of a media wave, people may have cared enough to vote for her and buy the first single, but pretty soon they stopped caring and stopped buying. Much like any realm in society, you can love a fat bird for a night, but not much more than that.
Perhaps even more worrying are the people who like all the contestants equally, so not wanting to see any of them lose, vote for them all? Were walking head first smack bang into a global recession and yet Jo public are squandering half their gyro just because they are torn between their love for pug faced Eoghan Quigg and boy bland JLS. It's scant consolation, but if God is Omnipotent then he has to sit through all of this, that's karma for you (apparently he was partial to the musical stylings of Bad Lashes but ran out of credit shortly after the quarter finals).
We all have bad days in the office, so mistakes can be forgiven and God advocates forgiveness (convenient that) so we can forgive him the odd X Factor and the occasional Frenchman, in fact it will probably be great bargaining power for all of us when arriving at the pearly gates. When having a chin wag with that Peter bloke, he will probably ask a few difficult questions before allowing entry, such as 'Could you not have afforded just three pounds a month for that charity?', or 'could you not have paid an extra twenty pence to get the fair trade bananas?', to which you can then retort, 'Fair enough, but let's get some perspective. What about that Hitler bloke, or even worse Kerry Katona? I mean bloody hell she won mother of the year. Twice!' Adopt that line of argument and there's no way you won't get in, in fact they will probably give you a twenty pound voucher to spend at HMV just to keep stum.
So maybe that's it, everything in life is intentially not perfect just so we can all feel ok the next time we tell a homeles couple kissing to 'get a room', or tell our neice that there is no Santa just because we are a bit strapped for cash around Xmas. If the big guy can drop a few clangers, then justifiably so can we. Ultimately no matter how terrible a human being I am, I will be able to sleep at night knowing that no matter what happens nothing I can do will be worse than giving Celine Dion a record contract and for that, God, I am eternally greatful.
So God created the world in seven days eh? The only way that is feasible is if he built Poland first and got the Polish builders to muck in for the remaining days. Even then, seven days is a bit of a push, I mean Rome alone took more than a day to build so inevitably corners had to be cut.
Subsequently for every Sistene Chapel, Mona Lisa and Venice we have a Bluewater, a London Olympics logo and a Croydon. All in all planet earth is a bit like a B&Q kitchen, at first glance it looks great, but on closer inspection every things not quite as it should be.
Yes the big man created The Northern Lights, but he also created personalised mobile ring tones. If ye be faithful, then the genius that cooked up the 'crazy frog' was indeed the big cheese himself. What was wrong with 'ring ring', it did the job required? Now days if your phone goes 'ring ring' people think you are trying to be retro or ironic. You have to wear garments from Top Man just to pull off the overall look.
Why is it that people feel the need to express themselves through every facet of their being. Clothes I can accept as a form of expression, but a ring tone? Are these people thinking, 'if I have a hilarious ring tone, then people will in turn think I'm hilarious', no they won't they will think you're a twat. It's the modern day equivalent of the guy in the office who chose to demonstrate just how 'crazy' he was via an outlandish tie. Society is mocking you and you deserve it.
Perhaps the king of the ring tones is rap 'superstar' Akon with one of his biggest selling downloads being the appropriately titled 'Lonely'. Appropriate, as anyone who downloaded it deserves to be shunned and subsequently very bloody lonely for a long, long time. Almost as criminal a use of the mobile phone is text voting. I am of course talking about the type of vote systems commonly associated with 'prime time' Saturday night entertainment programming, the X Factors and Britain's got talents of this world.
The British public bleeding their bank accounts dry at £1 a pop so that fat bird Michelle McManus can claim her 'rightful' place as winner. Truly it was considered to be a victory for the morals of society... but was it really? On the crest of a media wave, people may have cared enough to vote for her and buy the first single, but pretty soon they stopped caring and stopped buying. Much like any realm in society, you can love a fat bird for a night, but not much more than that.
Perhaps even more worrying are the people who like all the contestants equally, so not wanting to see any of them lose, vote for them all? Were walking head first smack bang into a global recession and yet Jo public are squandering half their gyro just because they are torn between their love for pug faced Eoghan Quigg and boy bland JLS. It's scant consolation, but if God is Omnipotent then he has to sit through all of this, that's karma for you (apparently he was partial to the musical stylings of Bad Lashes but ran out of credit shortly after the quarter finals).
We all have bad days in the office, so mistakes can be forgiven and God advocates forgiveness (convenient that) so we can forgive him the odd X Factor and the occasional Frenchman, in fact it will probably be great bargaining power for all of us when arriving at the pearly gates. When having a chin wag with that Peter bloke, he will probably ask a few difficult questions before allowing entry, such as 'Could you not have afforded just three pounds a month for that charity?', or 'could you not have paid an extra twenty pence to get the fair trade bananas?', to which you can then retort, 'Fair enough, but let's get some perspective. What about that Hitler bloke, or even worse Kerry Katona? I mean bloody hell she won mother of the year. Twice!' Adopt that line of argument and there's no way you won't get in, in fact they will probably give you a twenty pound voucher to spend at HMV just to keep stum.
So maybe that's it, everything in life is intentially not perfect just so we can all feel ok the next time we tell a homeles couple kissing to 'get a room', or tell our neice that there is no Santa just because we are a bit strapped for cash around Xmas. If the big guy can drop a few clangers, then justifiably so can we. Ultimately no matter how terrible a human being I am, I will be able to sleep at night knowing that no matter what happens nothing I can do will be worse than giving Celine Dion a record contract and for that, God, I am eternally greatful.
Monday 26 January 2009
Credit Crunch - What a load of bankers.
Never a lender nor a borrower be...
The current economic climate eh? The old 'credit crunch' if you will (don't worry, no jokes here about it being the worst kind of cereal - although I did think about it). Now I'm not going to take a pop at the banks and their employees, if you want that sort of thing then buy a copy of The Guardian or The Daily Mail (if you can still afford to). But I will say one thing, it is all a bit silly really isn't it?
I may have never written a faeces on the infrastructure of our economy and I do not for one second claim to be an economic guru, far from it. But I do know that its a bad idea to continually loan money to people that don't have a great history of being able to pay it back. Lets look at it in common sense terms, you lend your mate Dave £20 in good faith and months later you are still dropping subtle hints (give me my F*&CK!NG money back you B$%TARD) to no avail. Eventually you reside yourself to never seeing the money again, your out of pocket, a trifle miffed and adamant that Dave will never see another penny of your, well not hard earned, but earned money.
Despite his £20 windfall Dave is a bit of a rascal, a card if you will, and sure enough in no time at all he has frittered it all away on fancy hats and jelatine and needs another loan of monetary funds to get him out of his man made financial pickle. Knowing that the odds against him milking any more money out of you are shorter than Pizza Hut successfully relaunching as Pasta Hut, he turns to his other mate Steve. Steve, despite swearing by the Pasta Hut linguine and owning Craig David - the best of on CD, is no fool. He confers with you prior to considering the transaction at which point you explain that Dave is somewhat unreliable on the 'giving money back' front (in real adult life banks call this a credit check). Steve absorbs this information and is appropriately wary, but Steve is a businessman you see so doesn't give up on the idea altogether. Instead, he agrees to lend Dave the money, only if he promises to not only be his best friend, but also pay it back at an increased sum of £30 (a £1o profit for the slower of you out there). Again, in the real world this is called interest rates.
Dave, he's a madman, before too long he's spent the £20 Steve gave him and is once again potless. Worried that Steve is a bit of a smack head and can turn at any time, he turns to Barry who lends him the £30 to give to Steve. Great, Steve is happy, but Barry that shrewd entrepreneur wants £40 back. Before long Steve has outstanding debts with Barry, Kev, Gav, Keith, Fred, Sam and Jonesy.
At his wits end, having been ostracized by the Croydon massive and not even able to show his face down Tiger Tiger on a Saturday night, Dave is desperate and turns to the one person he knows will still lend him money, Mr. Danny "Ocean" Finance. Danny has a bit of a reputation for taking either your knees, or your home (still, nice to have a choice) but offers to lend Dave the money he needs so that he can consolidate it all into 'one easy to pay monthly loan'. Desperate, Dave accepts and is now able to pay back all his mates, including you.
Relief, he's now able to meet up with the lads again down Tiger Tiger on a Saturday, but wait a minute no he can't, he can't afford to. In fact, backed into a financial corner Dave can't do any of the things he wants. He can't buy that top hat he had his eye on, upgrade to Sky plus, get a star named after his girlfriend Sheryl, or even order a Dominoes pizza (what no pasta choice!).
And it's not just Dave that is affected, Tiger Tiger's takings are down, Rupert Murdoch has to sell one belt whilst tightening his spare one and Dominoes have to shelve their plans to introduce a pasta range. And this ladies and gentle men is where we are today. Just think if only you (Lloyd, Barclays, HSBC, that Howard bloke from the Halifax ads) didn't loan Dave that £20 in the first place, he would have reeled himself in and learned to live more frugally on his income.
Still it's done now, so theres no point crying about it (you big baby). It's time for some good old fashioned British resolve, the kind shown during the Blitz. I myself am as much to blame and have suffered as much as anyone at the hands of the credit crunch (stupid karma) being both £4,ooo+ in debt (and no that doesn't include student loans, as far as I'm concerned thats my money) and having recently got laid off at work (the worst kind of laid). So how do you survive in a downturned economy. My advice is to look at the winners and losers at these times and try and associate, or attach a vice like grip to the winners, similar to trying to break in with the cool kids in high school.
Supermarkets are littered with winners and losers. Budget (gypo) stores like Morrissons and Lidl are the big winners taking a load of business from the ASDA's and Tesco's of this world. Sainsbury's is another winner, with former Marks & Spencer and Waitrose customers turning to them whilst treading that fine line between wanting cheaper goods, but not wanting to be seen by neighbour Lady Patricia Pennyfarthing trudging up the drive with ASDA shopping bags in hand.
Sex toys are another big winner, with sales going through roof . The spokespeople for these companies (I can hear their mothers now, 'why couldn't you have been a doctor') claiming it is because people are going out less, giving them more time in doors with their significant other. Now if that is true, it means that men have historically chosen pub quizzes, 5 a side football and unpaid overtime over a bit of the old sexual intercourse with the little lady (actually that all sounds quite reasonable). Be careful though, more sex means more mistakes, which means more kids, which don't come cheap (unless you adopt them from Africa, Madonna, talk about economising, I know you are a few quid down from the divorce but show some decorum).
Primark and Peacocks are other big winners, with noone willing to spend the big bucks in the Burtons and New Looks of this world budget clothing is now the in thing (take a step back and consider this, in days of yore you would have been teased to the point of self harming for buying cheapo clothing. All those bullys are now completely at a loss, wondering what you should tease people for now days? See everyone is affected by the current climate). My fears go out to the sweat shop workers, having to produce twice the stock to meet the new demands and with twice as many people looking to take their job due to all the job losses that were caused by the downturn in the first place. Talk about a no win situation, still out of sight out of mind.
So where does this leave us. Well for a while, inevitably, we are going to be stuck in our houses, forced to have increasingly bizarre sex with our now intermiably bored wives, only venturing outside of the homes from the necessity to buy Lidl's own tinned tomatoes and Primark irregular fit real denim (not real) jeans for a shilling six pence. But time will pass, we will pay off our debts (except for the student loans) and eventually we will have some disposable income to squander on what we please. Tiger Tiger will cotton onto this, will reopen the Croydon branch, Burton will set up a store next door to supply the collared shirts and loafers required to get in and before you know it the econmy will be thriving again. Dave however will still be a bit behind, but hell why not lend him £20 so he can join you on a night out, the past is the past, let bygones be bygones.
The current economic climate eh? The old 'credit crunch' if you will (don't worry, no jokes here about it being the worst kind of cereal - although I did think about it). Now I'm not going to take a pop at the banks and their employees, if you want that sort of thing then buy a copy of The Guardian or The Daily Mail (if you can still afford to). But I will say one thing, it is all a bit silly really isn't it?
I may have never written a faeces on the infrastructure of our economy and I do not for one second claim to be an economic guru, far from it. But I do know that its a bad idea to continually loan money to people that don't have a great history of being able to pay it back. Lets look at it in common sense terms, you lend your mate Dave £20 in good faith and months later you are still dropping subtle hints (give me my F*&CK!NG money back you B$%TARD) to no avail. Eventually you reside yourself to never seeing the money again, your out of pocket, a trifle miffed and adamant that Dave will never see another penny of your, well not hard earned, but earned money.
Despite his £20 windfall Dave is a bit of a rascal, a card if you will, and sure enough in no time at all he has frittered it all away on fancy hats and jelatine and needs another loan of monetary funds to get him out of his man made financial pickle. Knowing that the odds against him milking any more money out of you are shorter than Pizza Hut successfully relaunching as Pasta Hut, he turns to his other mate Steve. Steve, despite swearing by the Pasta Hut linguine and owning Craig David - the best of on CD, is no fool. He confers with you prior to considering the transaction at which point you explain that Dave is somewhat unreliable on the 'giving money back' front (in real adult life banks call this a credit check). Steve absorbs this information and is appropriately wary, but Steve is a businessman you see so doesn't give up on the idea altogether. Instead, he agrees to lend Dave the money, only if he promises to not only be his best friend, but also pay it back at an increased sum of £30 (a £1o profit for the slower of you out there). Again, in the real world this is called interest rates.
Dave, he's a madman, before too long he's spent the £20 Steve gave him and is once again potless. Worried that Steve is a bit of a smack head and can turn at any time, he turns to Barry who lends him the £30 to give to Steve. Great, Steve is happy, but Barry that shrewd entrepreneur wants £40 back. Before long Steve has outstanding debts with Barry, Kev, Gav, Keith, Fred, Sam and Jonesy.
At his wits end, having been ostracized by the Croydon massive and not even able to show his face down Tiger Tiger on a Saturday night, Dave is desperate and turns to the one person he knows will still lend him money, Mr. Danny "Ocean" Finance. Danny has a bit of a reputation for taking either your knees, or your home (still, nice to have a choice) but offers to lend Dave the money he needs so that he can consolidate it all into 'one easy to pay monthly loan'. Desperate, Dave accepts and is now able to pay back all his mates, including you.
Relief, he's now able to meet up with the lads again down Tiger Tiger on a Saturday, but wait a minute no he can't, he can't afford to. In fact, backed into a financial corner Dave can't do any of the things he wants. He can't buy that top hat he had his eye on, upgrade to Sky plus, get a star named after his girlfriend Sheryl, or even order a Dominoes pizza (what no pasta choice!).
And it's not just Dave that is affected, Tiger Tiger's takings are down, Rupert Murdoch has to sell one belt whilst tightening his spare one and Dominoes have to shelve their plans to introduce a pasta range. And this ladies and gentle men is where we are today. Just think if only you (Lloyd, Barclays, HSBC, that Howard bloke from the Halifax ads) didn't loan Dave that £20 in the first place, he would have reeled himself in and learned to live more frugally on his income.
Still it's done now, so theres no point crying about it (you big baby). It's time for some good old fashioned British resolve, the kind shown during the Blitz. I myself am as much to blame and have suffered as much as anyone at the hands of the credit crunch (stupid karma) being both £4,ooo+ in debt (and no that doesn't include student loans, as far as I'm concerned thats my money) and having recently got laid off at work (the worst kind of laid). So how do you survive in a downturned economy. My advice is to look at the winners and losers at these times and try and associate, or attach a vice like grip to the winners, similar to trying to break in with the cool kids in high school.
Supermarkets are littered with winners and losers. Budget (gypo) stores like Morrissons and Lidl are the big winners taking a load of business from the ASDA's and Tesco's of this world. Sainsbury's is another winner, with former Marks & Spencer and Waitrose customers turning to them whilst treading that fine line between wanting cheaper goods, but not wanting to be seen by neighbour Lady Patricia Pennyfarthing trudging up the drive with ASDA shopping bags in hand.
Sex toys are another big winner, with sales going through roof . The spokespeople for these companies (I can hear their mothers now, 'why couldn't you have been a doctor') claiming it is because people are going out less, giving them more time in doors with their significant other. Now if that is true, it means that men have historically chosen pub quizzes, 5 a side football and unpaid overtime over a bit of the old sexual intercourse with the little lady (actually that all sounds quite reasonable). Be careful though, more sex means more mistakes, which means more kids, which don't come cheap (unless you adopt them from Africa, Madonna, talk about economising, I know you are a few quid down from the divorce but show some decorum).
Primark and Peacocks are other big winners, with noone willing to spend the big bucks in the Burtons and New Looks of this world budget clothing is now the in thing (take a step back and consider this, in days of yore you would have been teased to the point of self harming for buying cheapo clothing. All those bullys are now completely at a loss, wondering what you should tease people for now days? See everyone is affected by the current climate). My fears go out to the sweat shop workers, having to produce twice the stock to meet the new demands and with twice as many people looking to take their job due to all the job losses that were caused by the downturn in the first place. Talk about a no win situation, still out of sight out of mind.
So where does this leave us. Well for a while, inevitably, we are going to be stuck in our houses, forced to have increasingly bizarre sex with our now intermiably bored wives, only venturing outside of the homes from the necessity to buy Lidl's own tinned tomatoes and Primark irregular fit real denim (not real) jeans for a shilling six pence. But time will pass, we will pay off our debts (except for the student loans) and eventually we will have some disposable income to squander on what we please. Tiger Tiger will cotton onto this, will reopen the Croydon branch, Burton will set up a store next door to supply the collared shirts and loafers required to get in and before you know it the econmy will be thriving again. Dave however will still be a bit behind, but hell why not lend him £20 so he can join you on a night out, the past is the past, let bygones be bygones.
Saturday 24 January 2009
Who's in charge?
Forget knife crime, sort this lot out first.
I don't rule the world, clearly, if I did you would have heard about it (unless you read The Sun or The Star where you would have been lucky to see it amidst the lighter notes, possibly in the page 3 girl's thought of the day). But if I did, I would ring the changes. I'm an angry man no doubt, but I can't be alone in thinking there is so much wrong in this society in which we live. I am not talking about your Afghanistan's or the economic climate which are clearly 'a bit out of hand', I'm talking about the everyday crimes against humanity, the stuff we have to put up with on a daily basis, repeatedly, constantly, that no one is doing anything about, Gordon.
Commence rant. Like advertising for example, I understand the need for it, I have even made a living in the past selling it (note for all those whining about how Facebook is being ruined by advertising, are you willing to pay a subscription to use it? No, didn't think so, so shut up, ignore the adverts like the rest of us, appreciate that the guys running it need to make a living and just get on with your day 'poking' your 'friends' during the hours of the day that someone is paying you to 'work'. Oh and that's another thing, those people that complain that their employers have banned Facebook during work hours. What's your argument, if you weren't using it at work it doesn't affect you and if you were using it at work then you have just proved your employers point - think about it, you haven't got a leg to stand on Heather, idiot).
Where was I, oh yes advertising. Come on people put some effort in. DFS, I don't need a bloody sofa, I live in rented accommodation which is furnished, so theres no point repeatedly abusing my senses telling me that you have a 50% sale on. Yes my place could do with tarting up and those sofas that have three seprate recliners look just delightful, but I will be buggered if it's coming out of my pocket, tell my landlord about it. And who books these adverts? If I am watching MTV2 then chances are that I am male and aged somewhere between 15 and 30 so why try and promote stair lifts to me, eh? I'm lazy, but I'm in no mood to spend what's left of my limited funds (thank you credit crunch - Gordon) on pimping up my stairs banister and as far as I'm aware the nanny state has not yet made it mandatory that private residential homes should be disability friendly.
Music adverts are some of the biggest offenders. How many times have I heard the voice over on the advert telling me that 'this is one of the most important albums of the year'. Important, give it a rest, what makes it so important? Do the lyrics contain the cure for cancer? If you play track 5 at full volume does it end race hate? No, I didn't think so, get some perspective. Why can't they be a bit more honest, have the voice over say something like 'very catchy and all the words rhyme which is pretty neat'. Or 'a really popular album which if played out loud in public will make people think you have good taste in music'.
This kind of honesty could help the perfume/eu de toilet industry no end. Rather than having some beautiful man or woman filmed in black and white high on top of a building near a clock tower running all over the place even though no one is chasing them, whilst some french bloke spouts out confusing adjectives, why not just show an image of the bottle while your man on the street says something like 'It smells nice which girls will like and the bottle comes in a really manly design too which will look pretty neat on your bedside table'? Makes more sense doesn't it, I'm open to offers if anyone looking for an advertising guru.
And what about those perfumes 'made' by celebrities? I don't know who I hate more the celebrities fronting them, or the idiots that buy the stuff? What is your mindset when you buy a celebrity endorsed perfume? I bet you there are loads of people (mostly women) that buy it without even smelling it, or even worse who having smelt it and found it offensive to their nostrils still go on to spend their hard earned/stolen cash on it. Are these people thinking, well Jennifer Lopez is a millionaire, is a film and music star and is going out with Ben Affleck (I know they have split up now, stop nit picking) so maybe if I use her perfume the same will happen for me. No it won't love, save your £20 and get back to work, they need you to cover a lunch break on checkout five. As for people who bought Jade Goody's perfume.....
Why do we call it 'Eu de toilet' anyway? What's the matter did we run out of English words and have to start nicking lingo from the French? Or is this Britain's international olive branch, our way of saying we can't be arsed to learn your language even when we are holidaying in your country, but what we will do is bung a few French words into the English vocabulary to give you a helping hand on becoming fluent in English. Come on now Gordon, keep strong, we have given back the empire the least we ask in return is that the world speaks our language. I mean, it can't be too hard if the Americans can grasp it.
It's not just the adoption of foreign words that gets my goat, terminology in general is all a bit misguided. Music again is a culprit here, lets start with the term 'pop' music. Now you might think that makes sense, because you want to have a pop at the cretins that are responsible for raping your ears, but that's not the intended meaning of 'pop'. 'Pop' is in fact short for 'popular'. Popular. Come on now, who's in charge of this? You can't have a genre or classify a music vertical as 'popular', that could refer to anything you lazy beggars. By that definition, anything that gets to number one in the charts these days is making 'pop' music, regardless of if you are Steps, King of Leon or 50 Cent. Linkin Park get to number one all the time, but ask them what type of music they make and amidst a shouty intro and rap chorus they will tell you that their particular brand of music is 'alternative'. Alternative to what, popular music I would imagine and therein lies the problem. Sell too many records and all of a sudden you are making pop songs, but don't sell enough records and you have to supplement your 'alternative' rock career with a day job as a bank clerk, not very rock and roll is it Chester, sell out.
And try telling some spotty 15 year old Emo kid that he is listening to pop music, perhaps your comments could be the catalyst for their final and fatal last act of self harming. God I hate Emos, if only there was some way of tricking them into an all or nothing fight to the death with Chavs, kill two birds with one stone. Imagine it, the Chavs with their knives and the Emos with their razor blades, what a spectacle it would be. Of course knives are more deadly, they have longer reach for starters, but the Emos are used to being cut so it would be a pretty even fight. William Hill would make a killing on taking bets, the population crisis would be eased and unemployment figures with it, I can't see a downside so pull your finger out and make it happen, Gordon.
The alternative would to round up the crowd from the next 'Funeral for a Friend' concert and ship them off to the army. Think about it, Emos would make a seamless transition into the army, especially as most soldiers are now situated in Muslim countries. Lets examine our bog standard Emo, they like to cover up their body (preferrably in black clothing), they are all Vegans so pork is off the menu and they are used to loud noises and explosions having spent years moshing next to the loud speaker at Slip Knot gigs. The image of Western society in Afghanistan and Iraq would be improved no end if our representatives were predominantly of the Emo persuasion and the only compromise would be that the sales for black finger nail paint in the UK would plummet. But fear not make up companies theres always the export market (which has apparently also been hit by the credit crunch, thanks Gordon) and by opening trade with Afghanistan and Iraq to export black finger nail paint international relations could be helped no end. Problem solved, put me in power now.
I don't rule the world, clearly, if I did you would have heard about it (unless you read The Sun or The Star where you would have been lucky to see it amidst the lighter notes, possibly in the page 3 girl's thought of the day). But if I did, I would ring the changes. I'm an angry man no doubt, but I can't be alone in thinking there is so much wrong in this society in which we live. I am not talking about your Afghanistan's or the economic climate which are clearly 'a bit out of hand', I'm talking about the everyday crimes against humanity, the stuff we have to put up with on a daily basis, repeatedly, constantly, that no one is doing anything about, Gordon.
Commence rant. Like advertising for example, I understand the need for it, I have even made a living in the past selling it (note for all those whining about how Facebook is being ruined by advertising, are you willing to pay a subscription to use it? No, didn't think so, so shut up, ignore the adverts like the rest of us, appreciate that the guys running it need to make a living and just get on with your day 'poking' your 'friends' during the hours of the day that someone is paying you to 'work'. Oh and that's another thing, those people that complain that their employers have banned Facebook during work hours. What's your argument, if you weren't using it at work it doesn't affect you and if you were using it at work then you have just proved your employers point - think about it, you haven't got a leg to stand on Heather, idiot).
Where was I, oh yes advertising. Come on people put some effort in. DFS, I don't need a bloody sofa, I live in rented accommodation which is furnished, so theres no point repeatedly abusing my senses telling me that you have a 50% sale on. Yes my place could do with tarting up and those sofas that have three seprate recliners look just delightful, but I will be buggered if it's coming out of my pocket, tell my landlord about it. And who books these adverts? If I am watching MTV2 then chances are that I am male and aged somewhere between 15 and 30 so why try and promote stair lifts to me, eh? I'm lazy, but I'm in no mood to spend what's left of my limited funds (thank you credit crunch - Gordon) on pimping up my stairs banister and as far as I'm aware the nanny state has not yet made it mandatory that private residential homes should be disability friendly.
Music adverts are some of the biggest offenders. How many times have I heard the voice over on the advert telling me that 'this is one of the most important albums of the year'. Important, give it a rest, what makes it so important? Do the lyrics contain the cure for cancer? If you play track 5 at full volume does it end race hate? No, I didn't think so, get some perspective. Why can't they be a bit more honest, have the voice over say something like 'very catchy and all the words rhyme which is pretty neat'. Or 'a really popular album which if played out loud in public will make people think you have good taste in music'.
This kind of honesty could help the perfume/eu de toilet industry no end. Rather than having some beautiful man or woman filmed in black and white high on top of a building near a clock tower running all over the place even though no one is chasing them, whilst some french bloke spouts out confusing adjectives, why not just show an image of the bottle while your man on the street says something like 'It smells nice which girls will like and the bottle comes in a really manly design too which will look pretty neat on your bedside table'? Makes more sense doesn't it, I'm open to offers if anyone looking for an advertising guru.
And what about those perfumes 'made' by celebrities? I don't know who I hate more the celebrities fronting them, or the idiots that buy the stuff? What is your mindset when you buy a celebrity endorsed perfume? I bet you there are loads of people (mostly women) that buy it without even smelling it, or even worse who having smelt it and found it offensive to their nostrils still go on to spend their hard earned/stolen cash on it. Are these people thinking, well Jennifer Lopez is a millionaire, is a film and music star and is going out with Ben Affleck (I know they have split up now, stop nit picking) so maybe if I use her perfume the same will happen for me. No it won't love, save your £20 and get back to work, they need you to cover a lunch break on checkout five. As for people who bought Jade Goody's perfume.....
Why do we call it 'Eu de toilet' anyway? What's the matter did we run out of English words and have to start nicking lingo from the French? Or is this Britain's international olive branch, our way of saying we can't be arsed to learn your language even when we are holidaying in your country, but what we will do is bung a few French words into the English vocabulary to give you a helping hand on becoming fluent in English. Come on now Gordon, keep strong, we have given back the empire the least we ask in return is that the world speaks our language. I mean, it can't be too hard if the Americans can grasp it.
It's not just the adoption of foreign words that gets my goat, terminology in general is all a bit misguided. Music again is a culprit here, lets start with the term 'pop' music. Now you might think that makes sense, because you want to have a pop at the cretins that are responsible for raping your ears, but that's not the intended meaning of 'pop'. 'Pop' is in fact short for 'popular'. Popular. Come on now, who's in charge of this? You can't have a genre or classify a music vertical as 'popular', that could refer to anything you lazy beggars. By that definition, anything that gets to number one in the charts these days is making 'pop' music, regardless of if you are Steps, King of Leon or 50 Cent. Linkin Park get to number one all the time, but ask them what type of music they make and amidst a shouty intro and rap chorus they will tell you that their particular brand of music is 'alternative'. Alternative to what, popular music I would imagine and therein lies the problem. Sell too many records and all of a sudden you are making pop songs, but don't sell enough records and you have to supplement your 'alternative' rock career with a day job as a bank clerk, not very rock and roll is it Chester, sell out.
And try telling some spotty 15 year old Emo kid that he is listening to pop music, perhaps your comments could be the catalyst for their final and fatal last act of self harming. God I hate Emos, if only there was some way of tricking them into an all or nothing fight to the death with Chavs, kill two birds with one stone. Imagine it, the Chavs with their knives and the Emos with their razor blades, what a spectacle it would be. Of course knives are more deadly, they have longer reach for starters, but the Emos are used to being cut so it would be a pretty even fight. William Hill would make a killing on taking bets, the population crisis would be eased and unemployment figures with it, I can't see a downside so pull your finger out and make it happen, Gordon.
The alternative would to round up the crowd from the next 'Funeral for a Friend' concert and ship them off to the army. Think about it, Emos would make a seamless transition into the army, especially as most soldiers are now situated in Muslim countries. Lets examine our bog standard Emo, they like to cover up their body (preferrably in black clothing), they are all Vegans so pork is off the menu and they are used to loud noises and explosions having spent years moshing next to the loud speaker at Slip Knot gigs. The image of Western society in Afghanistan and Iraq would be improved no end if our representatives were predominantly of the Emo persuasion and the only compromise would be that the sales for black finger nail paint in the UK would plummet. But fear not make up companies theres always the export market (which has apparently also been hit by the credit crunch, thanks Gordon) and by opening trade with Afghanistan and Iraq to export black finger nail paint international relations could be helped no end. Problem solved, put me in power now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)