Sunday, 30 September 2007

Wife Swap: Pete Burns and Razor Ruddock

Pete Burns described his relationship with his husband as 'like Mills and Boon' which made me laugh at the time but in a strange way it is. Certainly compared to Neil 'Razor' Ruddock's 'relationship' with his glamour model girlfriend Leah who seemed 25 going on 40 with the way he was treating her. Mind you, more fool her for giving up her... er, career, and being treated as a skivvy by that fat moron. Pete Burns summed things up nicely when he said it seemed like a 'nightmare'. I was pretty unimpressed with Leah when she described Pete as 'it'. She also made a few dubious comment about Razor being 'a real man' implying Pete and his partner weren't. A 'real man' in her book clearly means a fat, lazy, disgusting pig. Shame.
Actually, though, there weren't as many fireworks as you would expect from a Wife Swap including Pete Burns. In fact at times it was bordering on TOUCHING, what with him and Razor eating their dinner out of the pan together.
Pete summed things up very astutely when he said Razor was one of those men who see women as a different species. I think it's very true that there are still a huge number of men with this attitude, that women are purely there to be housewives and to shag. Mind you, women are obviously culpable in feeding this outdated stereotype. There is something profoundly lonely about a man who needs to go to the pub every night to 'go out with the lads'. Pete and Michael's relationship looked postively rosy in comparison with them totally devoted to each other (although perhaps a little clingy).
Razor's girlfriend was only 25 and there's only so much of looking at his beer belly snoozing away a girl can take, I'd imagine, especially one who on the whole seemed very nice, and certainly attractive. No wonder taking her top off seemed like a sort of freedom. I think unless he bucks his ideas up she'll be out the door with Pebbles (their baby) in tow. He concluded quite nicely, 'I'm a macho prick'.
There was no Ikea lamp to be seen in the Burn's household, instead they had a giant light up Jesus, which naturally, I approve of. What did I learn? Not much. Love Wife Swap though. Roll on the new series.

The X Factor: Boot Camp

The show opened with a clip of Simon saying 'it is an unmitigated distaster'. What a cliffhanger! What could he be talking about? My money's on Dannii Minogue's face. I've seen less wonky nostrils on Michael Jackson.
And onto the contestants. There was Riddian, who they didn't get rid(dian) of, despite the fact he looked like Patrick Keilty with acne. Sharon called him repulsive, which was pretty much spot on. Then there was Leon, who I found myself inexplicably attracted to and then realised he looked like a young Josh Hartnett in the Faculty (except with manky teeth). I quite like manky teeth occasionally though. Certainly in this case. How old is Leon? Am I legally allowed to fancy him? Oh yeah and his voice is alright (as if that matters!!!) Basically the rule of X Factor is, if you're cute, you're in, if you're ugly you're out. And if Louis fancies you, run for it.
However, there are exceptions to this rule. They like a couple of 'characters' in the mix (i.e. obnoxious dicks) so we get saddled with the shovel-faced Kimberley who Simon labelled 'the most annoying person i've ever met'. She could carry a tune but made Big Brother's Shabnam look well-adjusted. Out next week in a pool of mascara, I predict.
What else? Oh yes, there was the usual roll call of sob stories, ranging from 'I shouldn't be here' to 'my dad's dead'. Yes I think you mentioned it FORTY TIMES already. Actually, it's not her fault, it's the producers for treating us like thick sheep. Baa!
The second hottest by the way is Andy, who works with asbestos. On the un-hot side of the coin we have Luke, like a creepier Ray Quinn.
The over 25s and groups were pretty much a wash-out, but one group caught my eye for appearing to be made up entirely of male virgins. I like them already, just because they look completely unprofessional. You've got to love the underdog.
Finally, why was Dermot sobbing at a story that wasn't even sad? Pull yourself together, man!
Worst band name of the day? Futureproof. That's not actually a good thing, is it? That's a bit like being Moneyproof or Sexproof or XFactorWinnersProof. Doh!

Saturday, 29 September 2007

Nightmare of You- Bang EP

I only very recently got into Nightmare of You, although I listened to them about a year ago and dismissed them as a crappy Morrissey impersonation band. Well guess what? They still ARE a crappy Morrissey impersonation band, but there is something quite lovely about them. The first song I heard recently was 'I Was Never a Normal Boy' which I thought was actually an old song of theirs off their debut album, but I now see it's on this Bang EP which only came out last week. There is something really moving about this song, and infectiously catchy. My first thought on hearing it was 'it's Morrissey meets Greenday' (YUCK!) which I still can't help thinking sometimes, but there is something very English about the lyrics and the guitars if you can get over the slightly nasally American accent. He IS trying to be Morrissey (despite his accent), but what is so wrong with that? I like The Dears solely for that reason too. We need something to plug the gap whilst Moz is off procuring young men in Rome or whatever. Lyrically the singer has stolen everything from Moz, not wanting to go out, feeling like an outsider and all of those romantic ideals. Some of the lyrics are great, some are a bit crap. But it really works for some reason. I think this song in particular is the strongest of the EP. All the songs are quite samey, but they are all pretty much good, so I'm cool with that. Their self-titled debut album is very similar too, and I especially like The Days Go By Oh So Slow off that. (I like all the ones with long titles)
I Don't Want to Dance Anymore has a great opening line and again is just catchy as fuck. I know this is one of those bands you're not meant to like. But I have the same music taste as 15 year old boys on so I'm clearly at that intellectual level. I'm just glad I can comment on some new music finally because I hardly ever like new stuff.
You're Very Dear to Me is a very Morrissey-esque title but sounds slightly more like they Beach Boys. Say what you like about Nightmare of You but they aren't original in the slightest. I'm not fussy, as long as I can sing along to it and it makes me laugh or cry.
Bang (the song, as opposed to the EP) has quite funny lyrics about, yes you guessed it, wanting to fuck. He's kind of insulting someone into bed, which always works for me, I find. Not too sure about the guitar at the end though.
The final song on the EP is called Herbal Jazz Cigarette which is clearly an awful title but it's pretty good and I like the lyrics. All in all I think Bang is slightly less good than the album but only just, and I Was Never a Normal Boy is better than anything off the album, so all is well in the world.
By the way, don't google image search this band. They look like a bunch of knob-ends, and they are apparently 'emo'! In that case Morrissey must have invented emo. Actually... he probably did.

Friday, 28 September 2007

Jonathan Ross: Beth Ditto, Jamie Foxx, Michael Ball

Tonight Jro had a right weird assortment of guests. Jamie Foxx (is it a double x? I forget) was about what I expected, a bit shallow and dull. What's the deal with his hairline though? It's like Action Man gone wild. No really: how does he get it like that? Is it stuck on? Somebody explain.
I really liked Beth Ditto: I thought she was incredibly cute and I love her accent. I kind of hate some of the things she stands for (her faux punk sensibilities, and the gratuitous nudity, for example) but she seems like a really funny and kind person. I felt a bit bad for her when they showed the NME cover and all the audience went 'eww'. I went 'eww' too when I saw it, but even so. I don't think ANY woman should strip naked to get on the cover of a magazine, no matter what your size is, I think it's anti-feminist, perhaps more so when you do have talent, so you don't even need to fall back on your bosoms. I don't think there's a point to be made. I think it's exploitative regardless of your reasoning behind it.
It does make me angry though, that whatever she does, there is a certain section of the community that will just see her as a fat lesbian. She is an intelligent woman and she does have an incredible voice, and a lot more talent than 95% of the sticks you see in magazines, so she should be given some respect. Unfortunately, society is too dumb to see past the fat.
Michael Ball? Yeah sure you got fat for a role, whatever you say. Jonathan Ross: always funny.

Wednesday, 26 September 2007

The Pick-Up Artist: Final

Oh my God, The Pick Up Artist was the best show ever. We watched the whole damn lot in one week. I watched the first in the new series of America's Next Top Model yesterday and The Pick Up Artist blew it out of the water for charm, positivity and good old male-bonding. I loved all the crying. I love seeing a man cry, especially over being awarded a gaudy medallion by a man named Mystery.
AND the best man won!
Ok so there is a something a little bit creepy about calling groups of women 'sets' and treating dating as a game but it is a game for some people. And there is something quite life-affirming and reassuring about the way it is done. It's quite clever the way Mystery even wraps the viewer round his long, skinny fingers. (eww)
So how does he do it? Mystery looks like a lanky geek who had a run in with a pilot and a leopard and an eyeliner, and a few chat up lines 'did you see that fight outside?' and 'you wiggle your nose when you smile' and he's in with all sorts of gorgeous women. Surely it's not that easy? But some of the tips and tricks are quite good, like saying you can only stay for five minutes to stop girls wishing you would fuck off, and including the girl's friend whom you're trying to chat up.
I LOVED all the geeks in The Pick Up Artist, but especially Kosmo (with a K) because he wasn't really a geek at all, he was a cute Latino in a furry hoodie. Brady was alright, but I didn't like his blonde hair. He did pull an 'exotic dancer' though, which was quite impressive. I hope he can get laid at last.
I guess the best thing about the show is it proves that you don't need to be drop dead gorgeous to pull, you just need to bullshit cleverly. No, you just need bags of confidence, and that can be faked. Hope for geeks everywhere. Just lay off the leopard print. Please.

Tuesday, 25 September 2007

Can't Stop Eating

I can't stop eating either, but I like to think I'd stop if I started resembling a pig. These poor bastards in this show have Prader-Willi syndrome, and never feel full. Voice-over man says: 'Left to their own devices they would eat themselves to death' (not literally, I hope).
2000 people have it Britain and 58 of them live in one home together. God, imagine being put in a home for that! There did seem to be slightly more to their problems than just that somehow.
Joe is 30 stone. Christ, he was fat. I don't get how science can make 60 year old women have babies, or do a heart transplant, but they can't just invent a pill to stop people feeling hungry. They would make a FORTUNE. Why aren't they trying harder? Slackers! Forget finding the cure to cancer or HIV. Make me... er, I mean THEM skinny! Anyway, I digress.
Tamara, another person suffering from it had lost 15 stone! The before pictures of her were mind-blowing. She basically looked normal sized now. But it must be agony to be hungry all the time. It must be all-consuming.
Oh my God, that programme was totally depressing. I had to switch it off so god knows what the moral of the story was. Still: More 4 is fast becoming my favourite TV channel.

Saturday, 22 September 2007

The X Factor: We Love Streisand

Of COURSE I have been watching The X Factor; suckered in year after year by the hundred and ten percents, the sob stories and of course, Simon Cowell's teeth.
However, I'm not sure about Dannii Minogue: I alternate between thinking she's quite attractive and a wonky-nosed, plastic-faced neponistic foghorn (yes I made up the word nepotonistic, what are you gonna do about it?)
I also don't like the fact that Sharon Osbourne isn't the top spec bitch anymore, I liked her ruling the roost, and she seems much quieter this year. Come on Sharon, kick some fucking arse.
I've always hated the squirming, squinting little Louis, but even I felt a bit sad when they sacked him for Brian 'style director' Freidman. However, now he's back you realise what a humourless, spiteful little gimp Louis is. He takes a perverse delight in laughing in people's faces. I love the fact Simon and Sharon are just completely degrading him now by constantly calling him Lulu.
On the subject of sackings, Kate Thornton could present about as well as she could tell her stylist that her outfit didn't look so great, so I was looking forward to Dermot taking over. However, I find his presenting style a little weird on this show, he pops up at the bottom of the screen waggling his head around like an over-enthusiastic tortoise and blinking into the sun. He also seems to spend no time getting to know or consoling the contestants. I'm thinking that's because he was filming BBLB at the time and his profile might increase a little in the coming weeks.
As for tonights show, there's only really one thing to comment on and it's the girl in the 'wedding dress'. I literally cannot believe such people exist. How do they get through the day? The amount of suffering they must have to endure every time they leave the house must make life unbearable. It is the ultimate cruelty to laugh at her and her League-of-Gentlemen-esque family, but what choice do you have?

Tuesday, 18 September 2007

The Pick-Up Artist: Your Old Life Dies Here

My boyfriend downloaded a really funny show tonight called The Pick-Up Artist, which i think is showing in America at the moment. It is basically America's Next Top Model but with geeky men in it. Which is no bad thing, when you think about it. The premise is these are a bunch of socially inept, awkward virgins and this guy comes in to train them to be lotharios. Fine: except for the guy himself is an absolute mingaloid! His name is 'Mystery' for starters: I'd have gone for 'Enigma' myself. He also has two henchmen: Matador, and J-Dog (I may have got that wrong). Mystery's fashion sense leaves a lot to be desired: he was wearing this ridiculous leapord print jacket, and alternating his headwear between goggles (what the fuck?) and a ridiculous black fluffy hat (I'd go as far as to say BONNET) which has to be seen to be believed (really: google him). I can genuinely say that no amount of charm (i.e. bullshit) would make me go within five miles of him or his greasy mates.
Weirdly, I found myself attracted to several of the geeks. There is something strangely sexy about awkwardness, shyness, even flab sometimes. And of course, geeks have brains. Intelligence is my number one thing for fancying someone, not fuzzy felt hats. It made me sad to hear of the geeks wanting to be James Bond: fuck that: they should just go out with fellow geek girls! All 'Mystery' (real name Eric) is going to teach them is how to be sleazy and say horrible one liners. Their 'prize' is the winner gets to go hang round with Mystery and his grubby hat for a year, picking up STDs. Lovely.
Rather cruelly, Mystery made all the geeks go to a bar and chat up women and they all got dissed. have they never HEARD of the internet? Still: liking this. Looking forward to the makeovers.

So why did you have children then?

I think we'll file this one under 'feminist' but in reality I just want to SCREAM about the fucking stupid mothers I have encountered lately. I was just in the chip shop (it's all fine dining for me) and this kid was shrieking and the mother was screaming and he went 'mum!' and she said 'God, how I hate that word.'
God, how I hate that word? Well you should have thought about that before getting knocked up then! What kind of fantasy land do people live in when they are planning (or not) to become pregnant? What do they imagine it to be like? Like a fucking nappy advert? All peachy little bums and giggles?
I wouldn't mind, but they take it out on YOU, the casual passer-by, with their moaning and shouting, like it's your fault they decided to give birth to mewling, filth-ridden money-drainers.
Well it's NOT my fault. I don't want any, so keep yours away from me, thanks!
This is without yesterday's high jinks where I got ram raided by a very ugly woman with a buggy and told to MOVE! on the tube. (I also got told to take my headphones out and connect with the world- but anyway). I replied, 'The world didn't end when you decided to give birth.' And this I think is the crux of the matter. Pregnant women and women with children have TOO MANY rights! They are considered a superior species to us bitter, barren, dried-up (not even) career women. They are given months off work. Where are my fucking months off work for NOT spawning? You don't get praised for keeping your head down, you just get labelled 'inhuman'.
I repeat: the world doesn't end just because you give birth. Well, yours might, but mine doesn't. And yes, I am looking forward to being lonely in old age, thank you. Lonely, peaceful, and free.

Monday, 17 September 2007

Corrie/ Enders/ Corrie

Does the fun never start on a Monday night? Without even Britains Next Top Model to inject a touch of glamour into the Monday evening schedule, we are left with the daily grind of the soaps (well, and Curb Your Enthusiasm nicked off the internet, but I can't review that, it reviews itself by being genius).
So, Corrie. David nearly killed Bethany with E. Not that I'd know about such things, but I'd IMAGINE ecstasy tastes pretty horrible, and not sugary or anything. I'd guess it would be quite hard to swallow. Just a hunch, like. Can't believe evil David didn't even call an ambulance! Or even tell them once she got ill! Motherfucker! I'd fucking garotte him if I was Sarah Louise. Gail: it's time to kill the devil child. Everyone acted quite well I thought. It was quite moving.
Bethany's E'd up acting left a lot to be desired. she needs to go to gurning school. She couldn't even act 'having a fit' so she had to do it off camera. Hardly a young Drew Barrymore, is she? God, David is so ugly. When will he go upstairs and come down a handsome hunk? WHEN?
I liked Dev getting dissed. Give Dev a proper storyline! He's AMAAAAAAAZZZZZZIIIIIING.
Jack and Vera and that... I don't even know his name. Every time they come on the screen, I fast forward. Tyrone. His girlfriend. Fast forward. BORING.
Eastenders is even more barrel-scrapingly shit-wank: this whole Deano (what's with the quiff and the stupid jacket), Chelsea (Bethany would out-act this bitch) and the ginger teddy bear story is really draaaaaaggggging on. Parklife is ageing before our very eyes. Denise looks twenty years younger than him. Teddy bear flushing Deano's head down the loo. How very Phil vs Ian Beale. Not exactly Johnny Allen is it?
The only story of any real interest is Phil face-in-the-cake Mitchell and his super-red face. GET OUTTA MY PUB. God, I hate Ben. Again, he can't ACT. I know they are children but that Miller kid (you know, the cute one) was a good actor. Chesney is Corrie is a good actor. So what's with all these stiffs?
I am intrigued by the Cindy/ Ian high jinks, but mildly confused by it. I thought I saw her on the front of the soap spoiler, so is she coming back or what? Who knows? How EVIL is Lucy Beale now? What a charmless reason to get yourself sterilised if ever there was one.
PS. I love the Stedford bank!

Saturday, 15 September 2007

What Not To Wear

How much does this SUCK without Trinny and Susannah? Yet I still like it more than Supernanny.
I want to know what qualifies Mica Paris to be a style expert. She's a singer! Her clothes are rank, too. She looks like a shiny sausage. Everything she wears looks like she's off to the office Christmas party. She has lovely teeth though, but that still doesn't qualify her to tell people to burn their tracksuits. And the false eyelashes! And the hair! So much hair. Less is more, love.
And as for Lisa 'so-shit-she-was-sacked-from-Britain's-Next-Top-Model-presumably' Butcher. ERGH. Her hair is fucking horrible. She looks like Cruelle De Ville. She's like a snotty, cold, charmless older sister looking down her nose at you. 'Oh you do have a GREAT body!' she lies to poor bastards having to strip off in front of a three way mirror and a camera man. Mica isn't much better. Where is the love? All their clothes are AWFUL. Waistcoats are NEVER in fashion. EVER. At least Trinny had a nice line in stripy dresses.
This week they made over some 'sports-women' to make them more feminine. Why bother? Haha. They are just going to get all sweaty again.
FUCK ME. They made the first one look so bloody awful. They made her look like Trisha Goddard! On what planet is she considered a style icon? She did look more feminine but her hair was NOT good. Bring back the trainers!
The second one definitely looked more glam. The clothes were pretty and her hair looked nice. She looked kind of suicidal though. Nice hair but now depressed! Back to the rugby pitch then.
What not to wear? Anything you feel uncomfortable or weird in. Or anything the presenters wear. NEXT!

Tuesday, 11 September 2007

The Daily Mail + Jim Davidson= Angry Me

So I watched the first ten minutes of Hell's Kitchen because of the hoo-ha. God: what a despicable person Jim Davidson is. 'I should go back to my own kind' he said, sounding like a caveman. What exactly is his own kind? The type of language he uses is disgusting and it's nothing to do with his age. He's not that old, and being middle-aged isn't an excuse for being an ignorant, cruel piece of shit.
What really bugs me is when someone is sexist/ homphobic/ racist and then says 'well I'm not PC'. It's nothing to do with PC, you arrogant prick. It's about treating your fellow human beings with the same respect they show you. It's none of your fucking business who Brian Dowling sleeps with. Why would you CARE??? WHY??? ARGH I'M SO ANGRY!!!
Stupidly, I'm still reading the Daily Mail and two things annoyed me in it today (just two? I know) Firstly Amanda Platell wrote an article saying 'why I, a feminist, abhor how this abortion law has been so abused'. Firstly, she's not a feminist. I read her column and she's always saying very UN-feminist things. Secondly, whilst I agree that people shouldn't have very late abortions, what if women don't find out until very late? What if it's a choice between throwing themselves off a cliff or having it? Because that's what it would come down to, to someone who felt passionately enough about being in control of their own destiny. No woman, no baby. End of story.
Cutting the limit is just a step into the hands of those evangelical christians who shoot surgeons outside abortion clinics in the deep south. Just one step in that direction is a wrong one. I'd rather they did abortions on teenage girls against their WILL at dinner at school that gave those mad fuckers one INCH. This is my rational argument, deal with it.
The second thing that annoyed me was also an attack on women, this time a lovely double page spread with this headline: 'Julia was devastated when a rapist stole her virginity. Now, 10 years on, she admits if she hadn't been drunk, it might never happened.'
I don't think you need me to tell you what is wrong with that headline (apart from the fact it's too long). but in case you do, IT IS NOT A WOMAN'S FAULT WHEN SHE GETS RAPED. EVER. It doesn't matter if she's lying pissed in the gutter with her knickers round her ankles. Why do they always seek to blame the woman? Why is the man never held accountable? Why don't they say, 'if the bloke hadn't been a violent predator it would never have happened'? The way in which blame is subtly and not so subtly shifted onto women speaks volumes about the appalling conviction rate for rape in this country. The whole message of the article is anti-drinking propaganda (only for women of course, men can drink as much as they want and stick their dicks where they like) and for women to 'be on their guard' and basically not have fun, or they deserve it when they get attacked.
Well here's a thought, Daily Mail tossers, women should be allowed to drink what they want, wear what they want, go where they want, and not live in fear, and not be blamed when someone hurts them. So fuck you.

Monday, 10 September 2007

Entertainment Mash up

OK I have no TV I'm religiously watching at the mo, so here's the news in brief:
Britney. Did look fat (but only compared to how she used to), she seemed pretty out of it. I feel sorry for her really. That song was stuck in my head ALL NIGHT though. I like the host of the MTV Awards, she was pretty funny. Had to turn it off quite sharpish though because Alicia 'talking on her phone' Keys came on and I wanted to put my boot through the screen. I flicked back a bit but it was a parade of cunts: Kanye West- how dare you do that to Daft Punk? Justin 'we haven't forgotten your afro' Timbergay and oh God, I don't even know who else. I'm not down with the kids anymore.
I watched the new episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm tonight that they showed in Yankee Land last night! I love it, it's like prozac. It's like furry socks. Pretty, pretty good. Larry can do no wrong.
I'm still watching Medium religiously, but it can't really be blogged about. Patricia Arquette is the best thing ever, so that's that.
Eastenders is as shit as ever, except for Peggy falling off that stool, and then Phil falling headfirst into a cake. Kill Chelsea Fox! And Deano! Their acting makes me angry. Corrie was quite good tonight: Roy got all mad! I enjoyed Hayley perusing the Pixies CDs. But would we really love Hayley if she was played by a REAL transexual? I always thought her character was a bit of a cop-out. Like 'we'll accept you but only because you've not REALLY had your dick cut off.' Liz judging Violet for having a baby with Sean was annoying too. But it's alright for her to bring up kids with a violent man. (Er... it's not real. Oh yeah)
Ms Lopez texted me to say Jim Davidson is being a homophobe on Hells Kitchen (didn't see THAT coming!) I knew I should have kept watching it! Motherfuck. Hmm, 'My 100,000' lovers is on now. Perhaps I'll give that a go. Oh shit, I've seen it before.

Sunday, 9 September 2007

Totally Jodie Marsh: Aftermath

Ahhh... so THIS is why they stitched her up so bad on the wedding day. It came to light that she WAS dating Matt Peacock before the 'search for a husband' even started. In fact her PA's PA said they were ENGAGED before the auditions even started. So that's why he didn't show up on the day. It's literally as heartbreaking as when Prince Charles said 'whatever love is' after he married Lady Di (ie. not very). Jodie! We trusted you!
They also showed us Jodie en route to the registery office part of the ceremony in the back of a white van. She looked a bit like a stripper in a silly hat. They showed the PA dude saying the whole thing was just a farce for them to get free stuff. Isn't that what z-list celebrities do? Marry, have babies, get divorced, for the STUFF? And us mugs do all that kind of crap for FREE (well I don't- I'm waiting for my free stuff).
Observations from the day: Jodie's brother looked like he wanted to stab the groom. I can't believe Jodie wore black eyeshadow to get married in (he'll scrub that off once you're married, remember). Everyone looked very sombre during the ceremony.
Finally they showed her PA (or was it the PA's PA? I don't fucking know) packing his stuff and leaving.
Tune in next month for Jodie's new husband packing his stuff and leaving. Oh go on then, give it two.

Friday, 7 September 2007

This is the news

In it's own sick way the news is entertainment, or it is when I want to comment on it. Two things in the news blew my mind today. One, rather predictably, was the Madeleine McCann case. I'm willing to nail my colours to the mast here and say there is NO WAY that the parents did it. It's impossible. There are just too many things about it that don't add up (to them having done it), none of which I will bore you with here, as we are all completely bombarded with every detail daily anyway.
If the parents did it, the earth may as well drop out of the sky right now, because nothing can ever be right again. Humanity may as well pack it's bags. They went and met the POPE, for fuck's sake.
But I'm not naive. There's just no way they did it. It really does sicken me to think what they have been through, and what those incompetent Portuguese police are putting them through right now. And what narrow-minded people who believe everything they read are saying about the whole thing. This is going to drag on and on. It's thoroughly depressing.
The second news story that left me aghast (only because I wanted to use the word aghast, cos it's ace) was that of the 14-year-old girl who stabbed her sister in the back (literally) and killed her, after an argument about one of their boyfriends' working at Morrisons (not the best career choice, but their loo roll is on offer at the mo).
Apparently, stabbing your sibling in the back is manslaughter. NO IT ISN'T! Running over an old dear in your car is manslaugher. Tripping over with a knife in your hand and stabbing someone is manslaughter. Sticking a knife, in anger, in your sister is MURDER! I've had some family scraps in my time, but I've never got a carving knife out to solve the issue. Taking out of the picture the punishment aspect (which I'm getting to) the girl is clearly a psycho!
Her sentence? Three and a half years. Three and a half YEARS! For murdering her sister! Fuck me. I wish I'd known about this years ago, I would have offed a few of my own family members.

Wednesday, 5 September 2007

Location, Location, Location/ Relocation, Relocation

They obviously couldn't be arsed to write 'Relocation' three times.
I think I may have just officially got old. Ever since Richard n Judy finished last week I have been coming home from work and watching these shows on More 4 (and another one called 'Selling Houses'- imaginative!) I have never watched a show like this before, except Grand Designs, which actually kicks arse on occasion.
These property shows are NOT grand, but are like being wrapped in a big fuck-off blanket and dreaming about doing heroin. These shows are comforting AND addictive. Nothing really happens. Nothing is really learnt. But I just want more!
The weirdest part of it, is they are obviously ancient repeats, interspersed with less ancient ones, and the hosts, Kirstie and Phil have undergone a strange transformation since the ye olde days of 2001. 2001 wasn't THAT long ago, but Kirstie looks like a teenager straight out of boarding school in the early ones. She has a strange Joanna Lees quality about her and no style whatsoever, wearing a series of strange coats she looks like she's nicked off a local farmer. Fast forward a few series and she's more cuddly, more stylish, and significantly less posh. She's also not standing around like she has a stick up her arse anymore.
Phil is even weirder. His voice has completely changed. He's stopped mumbling and has turned up his friendliness by a thousand. That's what an increased wage does to you.
I also enjoy hearing the word 'vendor', mainly because it always makes me think of Venger from Dungeons and Dragons.

Monday, 3 September 2007

Hell's Kitchen- Marco Pierre White

I don't even like Hell's Kitchen but I've got reality TV withdrawals. I couldn't face Dumped. I have no clue about food or chefs. Gordon Ramsay frightens me. This new guy just seems like a power-hungry menace. I quite like Angus-coke-n-hookers-Deaton though.
Why didn't MPW shake Brian Dowling's hand? Was he worried about catching the gay? He shook racist wife-beater Jim Davidson's hand quick enough (and had his tongue up his bum later as well). I didn't like the way he treated the coke-headed WAG either. 'Are you a member of Densa?' I bet he'd practiced that one in front of the mirror. Misogynist! Can you imagine if your boss at work called you thick? Lawsuit!
So then they served up pig's trotter stuffed with a gland. Yum! Who's gland? I resented Lee Ryan (of Blue) telling me what fois gras was. I know what it is! Piss off. They also served pigeon. What next, rat?
Next they served up something that looked like a granny's shawl. It was actually a pig's stomach lining! Mmm mmm! What would Morrissey say?
The kitchen assistant guy Matthew was rude as fuck. Matthew, you're a rude cunt! 'I'll send you down like a sack of shit.' You are a sack of shit and you're serving up shit, mate. See, I'm allowed to answer back to you! Ner! Bully. Misogynist!
I was pleased to see Jim Davidson suffering and feeling unwell. Brian Dowling looked like he'd ran into a botox needle. There were some other people but I didn't know or care who they were.
The show dragged on with the last half an hour consisting of snobby pricks abusing the chef. There was some drunk/drugged posh woman who got chucked out and some posh guy who spelt out a swear word. Do people really do that?
Oh my God, I completely lost interest in the end. An hour and a half is too long, that's like as long as a film, but a film with ex boybanders and footballers in it! I don't think I'll watch this again. My search to fill the Big Brother-shaped hole continues...

Sunday, 2 September 2007

Totally Jodie Marsh: The Wedding

Oh how we have waited for this hallowed day. Even the presenter was taking the mick. How could you get married to someone you don't love, argue with, and who tells you what to wear and that you shouldn't wear so much make-up as you look like a clown, and have the presenter take the piss out of you too? Dear oh dear. Worse, no one is even watching this (except me).
So in the end the plush venue was... Jodie's parents house. What happened to the circus and the bondage? I feel cheated!
Jodie's dad said arguing is all part and parcel of married life. True, but not part and parcel of your courtship! Call me an old cynic.
I did feel a bit sorry for her that everyone was taking the piss out of her celebrity guests for being too z-list. It's a fucking wedding, not a movie premiere. Should she just invite celebrities for the sake of it? (Oh God, why am i standing up for her?)
The highlight of the show was probably Jodie's cleaners saying the husband was a good choice 'as he doesn't leave skid marks in the loo' and then finding her 12 inch (!) vibrator in her bed whilst they were changing it. Then picking it up. They need danger money.
Then the happy couple argued some more. Then the groom had her name tattooed on his arm. Then Jodie had his name tattooed on her arm. Because we all know that makes a love last forever, right?
Then Matt asked his mum, 'so how do you feel about Jodie becoming Mrs Peacock?' Silence.
Her actual wedding dress was nice although too big for her to actually walk straight in. It was bright red which I quite liked. She walked down the aisle to 'can you feel the love tonight'. Vomit. Ahh it was nice when they kissed though. I'm easily swayed!
Then... she gave him the deeds to her house. Er...
For an 'intelligent person' Jodie should have made sure she had some say about what the final show looked like as everything from the credits to the edit just sent her up. I wish her all the best but by God, is she going to need it.

The Death of MySpace/ The Unstoppable Facebook: Destroyer of Pasts

'Social networking' is a misnomer if ever there was one. Sitting on your arse is a lot more accurate. MySpace was a gift from God when I first found it, not having to phone your friends and men who were actually interested in the same things as you (even if they were only 16, haha). What a rarity. Once you turned off the band requests and realised that you were too old to talk to teenagers no matter how good their music taste, it was perfect. I heard a fair bit of new music and even befriended Charlie Brooker. You can't knock that. I enjoyed writing a blog on there, until I realised it was demented ramblings. Then, like everything else, the shine wears off.
I resisted Facebook for a LONG time, mainly because of the name, and it seemed more mainstream and 'townie' than MySpace. But then of course, curiosity strikes, and you have a look. I hated the fact you had to befriend someone to see their page at first (I just want to look at people from my past, not actually speak to them) but then I realised it was quite good that people couldn't spy on ME. I already had to make my myspace profile private due to a friend going postal on me.
So now I've been on Facebook a couple of months, and something strange is happening. My past is being re-written. All those things you put in a box and sink, are suddenly floating to the surface. Nothing major at all (yet!): just ex-boyfriends that still look like teenage boys in your head now turning up bald, or worse, married. Your mates from school that you couldn't be arsed to stay in touch with now have wrinkles, or children. (Actually that's not true, I've only been in touch with one girl from school and she still looks like the teenager she was- bitch!) People you used to go to university with suddenly turn up having better jobs than you. It's outrageous. It's like a school reunion, except it doesn't stop at school, and it infiltrates your history, the very events that defined you become blurred. You wonder why you even fell out with that person, or if time can really heal everything. And it feels like it can, because everyone is just a square on a page, a face in a box and you can keep them there, you don't have to touch them, or let them see the reality of you.
With MySpace I made friends with strangers, and it took work to find actual people you knew, but on Facebook you go via your real name. Now people I work with (including my boss!) are there on the same page as the boy I went out with when I was 9, and someone who's heart I broke (well, probably not) and old friends and new friends who may not like each other, and family and it's just a head-fuck and a mess.
It's good to keep these parts of your life separate. It's good to keep the past in the past. Yet it's morbidly fascinating not to. I want to know everything about everyone. And to pretend that I'm doing well, of course.
The strangest bit is looking through the friends of that boy or girl you went to school with, and recognising loads of their friends. What do you do if they request to be your friend? You were never friends with them. But you feel a strange affection for them because they are from your home town and you remember playing rounders with them or going to the same birthday party as them once when you were 10. Suddenly you are looking at your home town through rose-tinted sunglasses when actually, it's just a fucking dump full of tossers.
Yes. Facebook is confusing. But it does have Scrabulous. So I have to keep going back, and trying to remember how the past really was, not this sanitised version of it. It's a struggle to keep everything in boxes. Except Scrabulous.