Ramblings

Another day, another evening before a day trip! Yessss!

I won't deny, I'm a big fan of the day trip, and we all know it. I'm hoping to get a pen, or at the very least a pencil for my troubles tomorrow, as me and Emily are heading off to Chatsworth House. I've already prepared the CD, and we have a whopping great FOUR CDs, that's right, and that's lucky because last time me and Emily went on a day trip to Hampton Court palace we got lost whereupon I proclaimed 'it's ok, we've got another CD here!' - phew thank god for that!

Unfortunately, God doesn't appear to be smiling on me because the weather forecast is a bit rainy tomorrow, but although the rain may dampen our jackets, it most certainly will not dampen my spirits, or my ability to buy pens, so there!!!! You've got to stick it God, make sure he gets the message that you don't care what he's going to do just to spite him!

I'm the queen of coincidence, and this means nothing to me. This probably means nothing to you either (apart from you), but I don't care what this means to you (only to you). Ha!

Exciting news for you folks - another day trip planned on Saturday! Yes, that's right, one week, TWO new pens!!! It just doesn't get any more exciting than this, and because of that, I won't tell you the details of that day trip just now, it'll only spoil the suspense for you, let's just say that it involves a large castle, and I do like those indeed.

In other news, although I haven't stepped out of the house today, I've managed to avoid any supermassive black holes that are meandering around the Oldbury area, and for that we can all be truly grateful, but I have been told to watch out for Spon Lane and Farm Road, I think that might just be a general life lesson for us all though! Spoon Spon, Broom Brom. Let my road to the top of the charts begin with that phrase, you heard it here first.

Anyway, before this blog lives up to its name just a little bit too much, I shall sign off now, see you on the other side of the Peak District.

Boom!

I have typed over 55,000 words in my temp job this week, just over half of which have probably been 'erm' and 'um', which all have to be typed in minute detail.

I managed to pick up a whopping great 64 minute tape to transcribe, which didn't exactly fill me with heady anticipation, but upon listening to the tape, the very considerate man told the woman not to speak at the same time as him to 'make it easier for the typist' - I love him, he's thought of me when he's doing his job, isn't that nice, it makes mine so much easier.

I've been sitting next to a robot for two days now. The robot wasn't there on Monday and Tuesday, but she is disturbing me now. I don't know about you, but I've always found it common courtesy to smile at least at a person sitting next to you in an office environment, but not the robot, she just types, types, types staring at the computer screen with such intensity as though it's going to reveal an undiscovered Shakespearean sonnet. I wrote "you are a robot" and put it next to her, of course, I wrote it in shorthand, because I'm a coward, I suppose we don't know if she understands shorthand, I don't know if they have that in robot school, but she doesn't look away from the computer anyway.

Tomorrow may or may not be my last day of typing, although it's unbelievably dull, it's gone by quickly, but I can hardly say I'll miss it, or the robot, if I have to leave, I'll miss the money though of course. Some people have been working there for a YEAR. This week has taught me a valuable lesson if nothing else, I can't let this become what I do.

I'd have shot myself by now having to do this, day in, day out for a year - there must be something better, there's your incentive, must try hard to get a job with at least two different functions, so as one does not end shooting oneself through tedium and boredom. And I think that's a lesson we can all appreciate.

Well that's all for now, I've done enough typing for the day, I don't know why I'm volunteering to do extra ;)

xxx

It's so naughty that I haven't blogged in almost a month, what kind of behaviour is this for a journalist?

But please be inspired to know that I have at least been writing in some form or another, on the Motley Fool, so you know, from all that I'm just whacked out. Wait a minute, that's no excuse, I take that back. I'm just naughty.

I've been temping for two days and my ears hurt and I'm getting RSI in my foot. Oh well, never mind, at least there's a microwave so I can have hot soup and watch half an hour of either Loose Women or Sixty Minute Makeover - oh the excitement.

I think Hurricane Gustav hit Cardiff this afternoon, just as I was leaving work because my umbrella (I say mine, but I found it somewhere) has finally bitten the dust, the trees outside the office were bent over double and I nearly got blown into the road. Half an hour earlier there'd been glorious sunshine, God is against me today clearly.

I think we can all thank Matt for today's blog, for upon his return I just had to compete really, although his is much better than mine because mine has just been a boring disapassionate list of today's events, which were, all in all, truly unexciting. Oh hang on a minute! I forgot to tell you how they had no minced beef in co-op because they are doing it up, see it's not all dull dull dull in Amyland today.

Anyway I best get off, I have to start some research for more advice for the financial inept, if only I had some for myself.

Ciao chums. xxx

A dialogue between myself and the 49 killer ducks at the lake today:

A(standing for me): Mmm, what a lovely day, I have some stale bread here, I think I shall visit the ducks in the park and feed it to them.
D:(standing for any duck, they don't have individual names because they are EVIL): QUACK, bread, bread, bread, bread, bread, bread, bread.
--- 20 minutes later, arriving at the park ---
A: My my, there an awful lot of ducks about today aren't there.
D: QUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK. Bread!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! She's got bread, get the bread, get the bread, get the bread, get the bread. GET. THE. BREAD.
A: Here ducks, have some bread.
D: I want the bread. No I want the bread. Give ME the bread. I am going to peck you. Give me the bread. I want the bread. No, I want the bread!
A: Plenty of bread for everyone.
D: Quack quack quack, let's all descend on the bread lady.
A: Woah, where all the ducks coming from? They're everywhere. Argh. You can have the bread, take the bread, take the bread, just don't hurt me.
D: QUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK. Peck, bread, bread, peck. QUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK.
A: Oh my god, there's one behind me. AARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
D: QQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCC
CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCK.
We only care about bread so give us the bread. BREAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD.

-FIN-

Why do i check the prices of storage units in the Sunday Times style magazine?
I don't have enough money to buy stuff to store, let alone £2000 storage units. Has my life been reduced to checking such unnecessary fiddlements?

I think the answer can be found in the following conundrum, which is:
Have i been watching this tennis match for my entire life?
During this tennis match, i managed to walk to Albany Road, look around at and photograph various graffiti art, walk around Woolworths, checking everything in minute detail, walk around Bargain Wonderland, or whatever that's called, walk back, read the entire Sunday Times, cook and eat my dinner, get changed, straighten my hair and upload about 100 photos on flickr. From that estimation, I do indeed conclude I was watching this from the moment of conception. or at least it feels that way.

But having invested so much time, I can't stop now? can I? What if it never ends, and this game will go on and on and on, with the eventual loser being the one that dies first, and the score being 157 games to 156?

New Balls Please.

I have always been fond of looking at old photos and thinking about the past. I'm not sure why, I think I find it hard to believe that at one point in time I didn't exist. I know that the world was probably a worse off place without me, but judging from old photos, they all look to be having a wail of a time, so maybe I'm wrong on this one.

After looking through all these old photos, I have already earmarked the names Ada, Dinah and Minnie for any future children I may have. I'm not sure what I'll do if I have a boy. It may end up a bit like the Johnny Cash song, with a boy called Minnie. Either way it's gotta be better than naming your kid blanket.

It's fabulous that the fifty+ year old photo albums have been kept so immaculately. I really appreciate the captions. You can almost hear a voice in those words. Then again, the fact that I like words shouldn't really come as a shock to anyone.

Also another revelation from today. I've been telling people I've got Welsh credentials. Turns out I was wrong. I'm more English than anything. Whoops. Don't tell anyone or I might get stoned in the street. Only kidding - I'm hoping after all these years spent there to become naturalised.

I think there's something special about black and white. I might start getting my photos printed in black and white. That, coupled with the pictures of me dressed in Sixties clothing is sure to confuse my kids in 40 years time, and that's all that anyone can hope for.

And lastly a sad note to those people in the photographs who remain unidentified. Who are these people? Why are they unidentified? The older ones are especially intriguing, long forgotten names and faces, left to lie in a box. I should stop all this, depressing thoughts. It's been a happy day.

So here's to Minnie, Ada and Dinah, my ancestors, and my children.

Peace out kids. xxx

I finally finished my CD which epitomises my music taste (or does it epitomise me - not quite sure about that one). A lot of songs had to face the chop, and making the final 25 was hard, so if you're one of those songs - congratulations. Check out my abstract greetings to a song?!

Well, for those of you eager to know, these are the songs that made the final cut, along with an explanation as to why they're there - enjoy! Any of my special fans who would like a copy of the CD - please let me know! :)

1. Is You Is Or Is You Ain’t My Baby – Dinah Washington (1956)
I suppose one of the main reasons why I love this song is because it shows a blatant disregard for grammar, and that’s something I strive for in my everyday life.

2. Great Balls of Fire – Jerry Lee Lewis (1957)
It’s very lively, and along with the next song, it symbolises the big changes that were coming.

3. Johnny B Goode – Chuck Berry (1958)
Because I’m not sure the rest of the songs on this CD would exist without it.

4. Cheek to Cheek – Frank Sinatra (1959)
Because knowing this had made it on to the list would make my Dad happy, and that’s nice.

5. Stand By Me – Ben E. King (1961)
This was no. 1 on my birthday. I was not born in 1961. I was of course born in 1853; I think you will agree I look remarkably good for my age. I look 120 at most.

6. Hit the Road Jack – Ray Charles (1961)

I’ve always found it a bit of a shock when that woman comes in with “Don’t care if you do!!”.

7. I Just Don’t Know What To Do With Myself – Dusty Springfield (1964)
I did think about putting “Son of a Preacher Man” on, but I thought that although brilliant, it’s a bit cliché and everyone’s probably heard it a million times. Nobody wants to hear a song a million and one times, look what happened to Peter Andre. This song was covered by The White Stripes, and I like them a bit too. Multi-faceted.

8. My Generation – The Who (1965)
This was a fairly late admission to the CD, and it is here because with it, this section of the CD basically encompasses the Sixties, and that ain’t no bad thing. We all know I should have been around in the Sixties and not now.

9. You Can’t Hurry Love – The Supremes (1966)
This is here in spite of Phil Collins bastardizing it in the Eighties. Despite his attempts to ruin it for all music lovers, it stays on the list because it’s a nice message of hope for everyone. One day when I get the band together, I think we’ll release this first. I also like the tune, and the sound of Diana Ross’ voice.

10. Waterloo Sunset – The Kinks (1967)
Because I like to imagine Terry and Julie wandering about. I wonder what they’re doing now. I like the backing vocals on this because they are a bit ethereal. And what a lyric “chilly chilly is evening time.” They don’t write them like that anymore do they? Oh and isn’t paradise a nice word?

11. Being For The Benefit of Mr. Kite – The Beatles (1967)
Choosing a Beatles track is, for me, like choosing my favourite crisp product. That’s right, nigh on impossible. But I chose this one because it’s an album track, so there’s a chance not everyone has heard it. This song has an interesting back history, and is actually based on a real circus. Henry the Horse dances the Waltz – a classic line. I must admit I do sometimes get a bit scared by the surreal sounding circus music, but in the end I think you should always be slightly scared by your music choices.

12. Ride A White Swan – T-Rex (1970)
Because this is just the beginning, and I think it epitomises the seventies. And it’s not I Love to Boogie, which some people think is the only T-Rex song.

13. Brown Sugar – The Rolling Stones (1971)
Another hard choice. I went for Brown Sugar because it was from the seventies, and I wanted a nice representation of the seventies. I think their sixties stuff is a bit too similar to the Beatles.

14. Ziggy Stardust – David Bowie (1972)
I will admit this one made it on to the CD because of the track length fitting perfectly, and it’s not ‘Let’s Dance’ which is quite frankly an abomination. Also, as an afterthought I like the words ‘star’ and ‘dust’.

15. Superstition – Stevie Wonder (1972)
This was the only song that was a definite from the word go. Something about this song just makes it simply stunning. I think it’s the guitar sound.

16. Heart of Glass – Blondie (1978)
I like Blondie, but I have to admit the main reason I chose this is because it’s my top scoring song on SingStar. I think I was particularly good on the “ooooooooooh oh oh oh”. Plus Blondie is pretty hot in the video – I’d have certainly given her a go. Another good one to represent the Seventies as well.

17. Lucky Star – Madonna (1984)
There are numerous reasons why this song got chosen. Obviously we have the star references again, but also the sound at the start that continues in to the background of the song is just divine. Also, check out the groovy dancing in the video, it’s awe-inspiring.

18. Raspberry Beret – Prince (1985)
Need I say much more than ‘She walked in through the out door’? In special homage to this song, I walked out through the in door of the library. WILD.

19. Song For Whoever – The Beautiful South (1989)
Another lyrically inspired choice – ‘I love you from the bottom of my pencil case’ is one of my all time favourite lyrics. I also like the acknowledgement that songs are written to make money. Nice.

20. Married With Children – Oasis (1994)
A good one if you find someone a bit annoying, as the lyrics fit very well to that situation (mentioning no names, obviously). I like how it’s quite jolly sounding despite containing much vitriol. I do of course like the more popular songs of Oasis as well, but as previously mentioned nobody wants to hear a song a million and one times. I used to watch Married With Children quite a lot; maybe it reminds me of that a bit as well.

21. Country House – Blur (1995)
I suppose I really wanted to encapsulate the nineties without the need for all the ridiculously cheesy pop that now sounds terrible, and this for me does it. The lyric ‘I’m a professional cynic, but my heart’s not in it’ helps too. Oh and the reference to Oasis. Nice work.

22. The Bartender and the Thief – Stereophonics (1998)
This is another one which tells a story, and I like songs that do that. Also it has some nice manly foot-stomping about it. Plus, something Welsh has got to be on here somewhere.

23. Hella Good – No Doubt (2001)
Partly because I always think that Billie Jean is about to start and partly because of the awesome bass-line. Plus this was made in a simpler time when Gwen didn’t go about yodelling like a banshee.

24. Toxic – Britney Spears (2004)
Brilliance. Or... as a guest contributor says...
“A song of such magnitude is unfortunately overlooked in these judgemental days of demonization of anything considered "pop"”
Another song that was made in much simpler times. I generally also like words with x in because they make a nice sound when you say them.

25. Once More With Feeling – Get Cape, Wear Cape, Fly. (2006)
This song just reminds me of my years at University. I’ll probably hear this in ten years time and still think of Uni. Ten years time is a subject of hot debate, I’m always thinking about what’s going to happen in ten years time. Also I saw him in Bridgend, and that’s gotta deserve a special mention anyway.

Because nobody sees the show until my heart says so, check out Matthew's blog, because today's post is the bestest one I have ever had the pleasure to read.

Let's go, Eskimo. (Matt's Blog)

You could always do a blog called "Emma is Brilliant" - I won't mind.

During my existential crises over the past few days I've been doing some more thinking. I'm going to need a lie down after all this. I don't think I can handle it that well. More to the point where is it all coming from? Scary stuff.


Anyway for your delectation, here are some of the debates we had last night at the poor poor quiz (bad loser alert). But hey, what's the point of a quiz where you could get all the answers right and still manage to lose - pointless. Just play bingo instead. Bah. Humbug.


Debate #1 - Is it easier to argue about politics than about religion. Does religion ultimately seem a bit too personal? Whereas politics you can take a more standoffish POV, see the other's, and perhaps just agree to disagree. Doesn't seem to be the case with religion so much. You run the risk of hurting people's feelings and that's just not very nice is it? Oh well. I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. Jesus loves us all, I had a leaflet about it today so it must be true.


#2 - The importance of media education - and am I too cynical? Does Rupert Murdoch want to control us all? Is it all one big marketing lie to get us to buy things we don't need that will eventulaly kill us all? It's important we all learn about these evils so we can fight. But what are these evils? Hmmm... perhaps too cynical.


#3 - Sex and the City - is it feminist or anti-feminist? See my media blog for more full thoughts on this.


#4 - Lastly - and this was more of a debate with myself. Why the sudden desire to learn more and consume more knowledge? Is it because of this blog? Is it a cycle, the blog means you need more to write about, so you start reading more, start thinking more, then the thinking makes you blog and so the circle is complete? I like circles. I suppose then anything that gets you thinking is good really, hmm. But then too much thinking and your brain explodes, and nobody wants that.

Well that's all for now. My head hurts. And so does yours by now probably after this week, so here's a nice picture of a butterfly to take away all that pain. I like to think about rainbows, when it gets bad. You got to think about something to keep from going mad. (Thanks Gwen).


I'm off to try not to think. Don't think about purple elephants.

It is quite frankly simply amazing the ping-pinging that your brain can do. Jumping from one topic to another with the greatest of ease, and picking up on the subject that was three topics previously.

Today was a day for much thinking, hopefully I won't turn into Rodin's statue with all this thinking because I can't imagine that would be much fun.

Nancy and Stacey make their return today. Nancy revealed something about Stacey to an nearby listener and Stacey didn't think this was very nice. Stacey wished that she could storm out, but then she realised that wasn't in her nature. Stacey thinks that the green-eyed monster is still lurking in the air, but can do nothing to confirm this. Stacey doesn't like this but needs to move on.

The next ping on the stop after the digressions of Nancy and Stacey's morning play was the subject of destiny and fate. I can never remember why I wanted to come to Cardiff in the first place, but I'm certainly glad I did. I would not have done my dissertation if I'd have gone to Leeds or London, probably never even given it a second thought. I would not have been to Roath Park and seen the ducks. I would not know the people who I know, I would not know Nancy, or for that matter, Stacey. Stacey would not exist, perhaps Tracey would. It's something I will never know, and something I don't think I want to know. What made me pick Cardiff? Was it fate, destiny, coincidence or something else? Woah... too much thinking. I better stop before my brain explodes. What a mess.

After we depart from this station, we got to questioning whether if you were being written about would you realise?. Assuming pseudonyms and abstract situations are used, would we ever be aware. Certain parties in this conversation seemed to think so, but I would like to credit them with more cerebral functioning than other people. Maybe it's just because they know that it happens that they know. Who knows? Certainly not me that's for sure. You're so vain, I bet you think this blog is about you.

The next stop on the list was time travel and alternate dimensions. Now this is the seriously heavy duty stuff. Physics and all sorts. I said that I didn't think time travel was possible because if it was then people from the past would be here saying hello to us. My conversational opposite said something about alternate universes being created when the time travel exists, which is exactly the same as this one, so we wouldn't know about it anyway. Well this just blew my mind. I also said I'm frightened of paradoxes. I don't understand them. If you go back in time and do something to prevent your birth, then you die... but if you don't exist to go back and alter the time line, then it's a paradox. It was at this point that my brain actually did explode and a team of Paramedics rushed on the scene and shouted "What the hell has been happening here then? STOP THIS DANGEROUS ACTIVITY AT ONCE!".

I had to have a little break from the thinking (after the disastrous results of the last time) and I think the last notable discussion I had was about the Mozart effect. This was with another conversation partner, I have well and truly been a debate whore today. My partner proposed a new effect called the Beethoven effect. In case you're not as sad as me and know about stuff like this, the "Mozart effect" basically states that listening to Mozart enhances your intelligence (when compared to listening to nothing or 'relaxation' music.) I want to recreate the test but with my favourite song of all time "Smack my Bitch Up" and observe the results.

Well, with all this thinking I might have to go and lie down in a darkened room for a few years, you might feel the need to do the same after today's marathon. Or if you feel you can continue, head over to my media blog for a tale about another debate I had about mens and women's magazines.

Today really has been about the mass debate (read in to that what you will...)

x

P.S. I'm extra proud of today's blog picture, because it was in fact taken by my good self in Paris, circa 2005.

Even though yesterday was officially the hand in date for the dreaded dissertation, I could still talk about national identity until the cows come home.

I found myself in a pub with two Welshmen and an English woman (and myself of course - it would have been hard to leave myself behind really - I've tried it before, very messy business). I'm not quite sure how it happened but we got onto the subject of national identity, as it turns out the Welshmen have nothing against us individually, but more like as a whole nation.

The ladies explained that its nothing personal really, it's just a collective cultural ability to dismiss the other nations, probably as a result of an Anglocentric media or something. It was quite a heavy discussion after several rounds of drinking and I'm sure it was past midnight. I think that's pretty impressive. Then again, maybe it was impressive because of the drinking, not in spite of it. Perhaps the conversation actually went something like this:

Person A: What about this er, er, Welsh/English thing then?

Person B: Yeh. Damn it. God damn it.

Person A: Yeah, totally. You're so right. Why didn't I think of that. Nothing personal. HSIHKJFHSKJDGHKJFG. Definitely. Culdkjshftual diffs and that.

Person B: I lovvvve you. I bloody do. We're all British aren't we? Errrrrrrrrrr................ [something incomprehensible]

Person A: Not really.

Person B: OK, but I still bloody love you.

Person C: You know what I think? No no, it's gone. But I bet it was an excellent point. I bet it really was.

Person D: Whose round is it?

It's just another one of those things we'll never know I'm guessing - unless someone in the pub has a recording of it?

Let me know, I'm off to consider what the hell a media event is.

x

To look around here you might think that a certain kind of professional was in residence. Several books and posessions would seem to claim so.

But as they gather dust, all they are is suggestions of what may be, not accurate predictors.

While they are there they make me think that I will live up to their expectations, but I don't mind if I don't. I find the prospect intriguing. We are not what we do, we are who we are.

Was Einstein a clerk in a patent office or the greatest physicist who ever lived?* I can understand where old Alby is coming from after my time in the patents and trademarks world. Me and Alby are so closely related it's unbelievable.

As you can tell from today's double blog entry, one should really remember the simple phrase of "quality not quantity" so I'll sign off.

Ciao for now. x

*And of course there's the oft told tale of the simple carpenter's son who went on to own the biggest pizza chain in history.

First of all, I would like to apologise to my many readers for the severe lack of blogging action yesterday. I hope none of you cried yourself to sleep last night over it.

After consuming a bucket-load of food last night in the Mexican, we all declared that we would not be eating again for a very long time. This was soon forgotten upon production of 49p 12 assorted snack collection. (I'm not allowed to use trademarks to name them because that is wrong!). I had "cheese puffs" and Hannah had "salt and vinegar crunchy sticks".

So Bo Jo is in and Ken's out. This really is a testament to what London will do in the name of a comedy haircut. Bravo. Quote of the month (perhaps even year) belongs to Alan as he declared his disgust that the London Mayor wasn't doing enough for the rest of the UK! Right on! I bet Tony Blair is loving all this. Time named him as one of the 100 most influential people in the world this week, however Gordon was missing, it's not been a good week since him. Or as Brian Blessed, the all knowing one put it "this week was Gordon Brown's worst week as Prime Minister, since last week". I am stealing other people's words because I can't find my own. I hope you all enjoy the lovely images of Boris provided here, I know I did.

As it's only 4 years to go until the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic, I thought I'd start another question, along the same line as the Jack the Ripper question - why are people still so fascinated by it 100 years on? You have four whole years to think about this, and get back to me, on which day I shall do a special Titanic themed blog - tune in for that!

Loose Women annoyed me yesterday by harping on about the British weather. Yet today I am slightly miffed that it is not sunny, I am nothing if not hypocritical.

Me and Hannah got to chatting about Death last night. I'm not sure why I capitalised the word 'death' there, we weren't having a chat about the grim reaper. I've decided that quite simply I'm not going to die. Easy when you think about it really.

So today sees another place in desperate need of rebranding. Yes that's right folks, Austria. I don't know if the big media corporations have been reading my blog and so are just sticking the word "rebranding" in the hope that I will mention them or link to them, but by jove, this time it has worked! Would you believe it! But the problem is, instead of mentioning any kind of context, I've just written this mangled garbage, so it's probably backfired on them! Aha! In your face Murdoch and Maxwell!

So Britain apparently loves a good Innuendo. No, of course not the Queen album! Don't be silly!This is all because the sexually repressed need a tittilating way to express their kinkiness, and the perfect outlet for this is a good old innuendo. Here is a joke that I heard a long while about an innuendo, I'm not quite sure who told it to me so I can't quite give you credit: "A man walked into a bar and asked for a double entendre. So he gave her one." BOOM BOOM! Oh yes, with jokes like that, I think you'll agree, this blog will never go stale!


It won't be long until I have to wave goodbye to something that has overtaken my life in the last few months, and that is of course the dissertation. It will of course be an enormous relief to finally get the bugger bound up and handed in, but at the same time I think I'm going to miss the little fellow. Here's a charming picture of a small boy celebrating me coming to the end of my dissertation in true national identity style! Everybody say 'aaaah'. Hoorah!

Anyway, join me tomorrow for a special report on the local elections, including a minute by minute account of my journey to the polling station! Oh yes, I really do spoil you lucky people!

I'm off to (insert your own innuendo here - so to speak). xx

Click here for today's media blog on the most offensive advert in Britain.

In the 1880s, a man who attacked and stabbed over 50 women received only 6 years imprisonment, which was, by the standards of the day, an extraordinarily long sentence. Something like that really makes you wonder if the English legal system really has gotten as bad as it is often declared so. Comments welcome. If anybody is actually reading this, it could provide an interesting debate. If nobody is, then it can just be added to the extensive portfolio of rantings that I come out with nowadays. Does this blog even exist, without a readership?

Wednesday usually turns out to be a productive day, but as I no longer have to be up so early and sitting in front of a computer screen, I'm afraid that the normal rest-of-the-week service may have to be adequate.



In political news this week, it is said that Gordon Brown is preferred abroad to here in old Blighty. I think it's because he's Scottish. What do you think? Either that or it's that weird thing he does with his mouth - no, not talking, although that is slightly annoying too - that weird mouth movement like he's just about to wretch a-la Prescott. Maybe the yanks like that kind of thing, maybe they like Scottish people. Who knows. Maybe they do, but being as I'm not one of them, I'm not sure I can answer it fully.

I was also reading, in the very same article, that in London there is a professor in "contemporary British history". Now most people would probably call this "news", or maybe "politics". Contemporary British History - it sounds like another rebranding gone wrong yet again!

I have to tell you that the contents of today's blog have very little to do with its title, make what you will of that.

Now, as I got invited to be an X-factor judge today - or rather, the "second best thing" (apparently) - judging a website at the annual Bright Futures conference... I want to make this blog a bit more interactive, and I'm also thinking along the lines of a re-brand, because I'm about the only media outlet left who hasn't done that for a while. So, if you like the current look of the blog, please vote by sending the comment "I LOVE YOUR BLOG!". I promise, this is not a blatant and obvious beg for love. Honestly.

We are very nearly at the one-month anniversary of the creation of this blog, one month on and I'm still writing. Who would have thought, one whole month of boredom!

Woo-hoo!

Anyway, that's all for today, I'm off to judge the X-Factor. (Don't forget to check out my media blog for today's exciting entry about kinky porn!)

Today I present a few questions for your consideration:

Today, or perhaps it was actually yesterday, I got to thinking about something which has always plagued me. Why is it that scientists who discover planets with ice/water decide that this means that there is definitely the possibility of alien life-forms having existed there?

Now I'm not a science boffin, but someone needs to explain to me what's behind all this. Surely aliens are, alien? Do they need water? Do they need oxygen? Surely basing their needs on our own needs is a bit, well, naive? Or maybe I'm just missing out on something. If you know the answer to this question, then if you could let me know I'd surely be able sleep better. Thanks.

In other news, I know you will all be dying to know that the copy of Elle magazine sold for a whopping great £39 plus £20 p&p, netting me a profit of around £50. Yipee. I knew there was something to be said about sticking with capitalism and throwing out consumerism. I haven't consumed that much this week, but I've still managed to capitalise on someone else's uncontrollable spending desires. Yesss! (This is not a reference to the Austrian phone network, just in case you wondered).


All of that got me thinking about fans. Not the kind that blows air on you when it's a bit hot, but the fanatics. What is about certain individuals, who are, after all, merely human, that would induce an otherwise sane individual to spend a whopping great £39 plus £20 p&p on a magazine, which, lets be honest, is not of the greatest quality and was not altogether different from that which was available in the shops. Having studied theories of fandom with the famous Matt Hills, I should probably know the answer to this, or have some sort of psychological profiling worked out on the kind of person that would do this, but having been over a while since I finished that module, it's more-or-less gone out of my head. That was so worthwhile. In case you were wondering what the picture that illustrates this paragraph is, apparently it's Andy Abrahams and his no.1 fan. Who'd have thought it.

So my last point, in order to live up to the title of this blog is: what would happen if aliens came to Earth? Would they become celebrities and would they gain themselves a new breed of fan - the alien-fan? You might say that people who believe they're already out there, follow crop-circles and love a bit of Roswell are these people. We currently call them deluded or freaks - so what would happen if aliens actually did come to Earth? If you've got any theories on this, let Matt Hills know, he'd probably love to hear from you.

Anywho, I'm off to look for flying saucers and more Madonna fans to sell magazines to.

Ciao for now, fans.

xx

Yesterday the God Squad called round for a bit of a chat before tea-time. Although these were nice God-squadders, no trying to convert me, just a nice chat about why we're here. I wanted to answer because this is where I live, this is my house you lunatics! But they meant in a more deep-and-meaningful, did God-create-us way - I told them I was here by chance. This was one of the options on the nice green sheet they gave me. If only all the answers in life were as simple as that nice green sheet then we'd have a lot less to worry about.

What do I think about Jesus? I said he was a good teacher - although, his stance on punctuation is unknown. If he taught the kids how to use colons and stuff, I'd say he was even better. But that's just something I'll never know I guess.

I've decided I want to travel around, but being poor (and anti-consumerist) I naturally don't want to pay for it, therefore, if anybody wants to pay me to travel around and come up with exciting blogs such as my Hungarian ones, then please let me know. You wouldn't have to pay me much, just expenses naturally. And I think you'll agree, that the blogs will be truly fantastic, and your page will become the biggest read page in the history of the whole entire interweb. Fantastico.

And on that note, for all of you sensible people who like to check out my photo blog, good news kids, it's expanded! Check out the ultra-new shiny and super page here. Again, if anybody wants to pay me to take photos of various cities, then I shall do that for you too - just let me know. I'll be waiting.

I've read today that more people in Britain donate to donkey charities than donate to abuse charities. I'm not sure which category donkey abuse comes under, but I'm guessing the first. I'm not sure what to make of it, I can't say I'm surprised by it. Next time I see that donkey advert though I'm going to shout at the television "you've got enough money, you robbing donkeys!" and see how they like that. I know they won't be able to understand me - donkeys do not have the same cerebral functioning of the average human being, but I will feel like justice is being done. Next time I visit Blackpool, I'll kick a donkey in the shin and steal some money from it, then it will know what it's like to be a victim of abuse in this country! Right on sister!

Why on Earth are McDonald's dressing up their slaves like this. That's right as a "mark of respect" for their staff. How about paying them more than 10p an hour, and in fact telling them that surely there must be better jobs than working in that hell-hole? I bet the kids who work there are just so happy that the boss-men have decided to dress them up like a badly-dressed air-stewardess (jeez that's bad) . That'll make the days shovelling burgers down the throats of the fatties whizz by. Well done.

O, it is excellent
To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous
To use it like a giant

Not my words of course, but Shakespeare's. Happy Birth and Death day to him today. The quote is from Measure for Measure, supposedly a comedy, but about as funny as Mr Bean. No, wait that's too harsh. It does have a character called Pompey Bum in it, and that's a joke that just keeps on giving. The words are spoken by a nun. Today's blog theme could almost be nuns, almost. But it won't be. Not today - come back tomorrow instead perhaps. If I was being political today I would argue that that quote resonates quite well with lots of world leaders in the current climate. But I'm not feeling that political, so I'll just carry on laughing at Pompey Bum. Ha ha ha.

Today is St. George's Day. Ah, like so many great English folk, St George was in fact, not English. Tell that to the Daily Express buffoons! Anyway, as more people in fact celebrate Bonfire Night nowadays, I'm hoping my little corner of blog will tell everyone that it's not a crime to celebrate St. George's Day - so get out there and pretend like you care about England and maybe one day you really will. This paragraph doesn't really apply to any of my Welsh fans, so apologies for that.

Anyway, I think I've talked for long enough now, this extra long blog is to make up for the fact that there was a stunning lack of blog-action yesterday - many apologies.

Farewell, I'm off to kick a donkey.

x