Sunday, 19 February 2012
Saturday, 30 July 2011
Twit
twit
noun /twit/
1. A silly or foolish person
2. A state of nervous excitement
3. A person who uses Twitter. See 1
Thursday, 30 June 2011
iScream
Human: Internet is not working.
iPhone: Are you sure? I have 3G.
Human: The page isn't loading. Is 3G working?
iPhone: Yes it must be; it says so in blue and everything.
Human: It isn't working, look!
iPhone: Hm. Maybe I don't have a 3G signal after all.
Human: Then why the hell does it say you have if you don't have a fucking signal?
iPhone: Maybe there's a pigeon nearby interfering with the signal.
Human: Why are you always lying to me? You always say you have a signal when you don't. I feel like I'm the only one trying in this relationship.
iPhone: I have Bluetooth. And iTunes.
Human: I've had enough of your lies, the endless deceit. Texts that you say you sent but never did. Voicemails I get because you don't ring when people call me. The app updates you just won't fucking install. It's over.
Fin.
Tuesday, 28 June 2011
Some like it hot
But I don't.
Being Scottish has both advantages and disadvantages. On the plus side, we can drink our own body weight in alcohol. On the down side, we have a life expectancy of 55.
A key disadvantage is our intolerance to heat. Above a certain temperature we have the tendency to burst into flames, inconveniencing those around us and the local fire brigade. The last few days have been inexplicably hot and Scots all over London and the South East have been suffering. Forget dying African children covered in flies or irreverent Chinese artists needlessly imprisoned; charity begins at home. Think of the plight of Scots in southern England.
There is hope. ScotsCare is a charity for Scots in London. If you know a Scot struggling with life in the capital, don't turn your head away in disgust, don't spit on the face of the poor, pale-skinned copper haired alcoholic. Give them hope. Give them help. Give them ScotsCare.
Being Scottish has both advantages and disadvantages. On the plus side, we can drink our own body weight in alcohol. On the down side, we have a life expectancy of 55.
A key disadvantage is our intolerance to heat. Above a certain temperature we have the tendency to burst into flames, inconveniencing those around us and the local fire brigade. The last few days have been inexplicably hot and Scots all over London and the South East have been suffering. Forget dying African children covered in flies or irreverent Chinese artists needlessly imprisoned; charity begins at home. Think of the plight of Scots in southern England.
There is hope. ScotsCare is a charity for Scots in London. If you know a Scot struggling with life in the capital, don't turn your head away in disgust, don't spit on the face of the poor, pale-skinned copper haired alcoholic. Give them hope. Give them help. Give them ScotsCare.
Friday, 24 June 2011
Tennis, gambling and genocide
It's Wimbledon time again, which means for two weeks it's constantly Pimms O'Clock. And if like me you're a degenerate with a mild Dr Pepper addiction, you may want to try your hand at gambling.
Society frowns upon gambling but the truth is it is a viable, and for some the only, career option. If you're strong and resist society's judgemental glare, there is one important thing you should know before you crack open the Stella and slouch at your computer in your underpants; when you lose you must keep betting. This is the only way to win. Nobody likes a loser, do they? So be a winner. Keep betting. If you stop when you lose you'll always be a loser.
By the end of Wimbledon I'll probably be a millionaire. But I'll keep going. Because then I will be a success.
Another thing society frowns upon is genocide. Friend and fellow blogger Good Body recently committed genocide. Genocide might be fun, but there are consequences. For example, despite her name Good Body may well be baron and so genociding all those wasps in her living room may have destroyed her only chance of being a mother. It would also have meant she could be a Queen.
The British Royal Family do something similar to genocide; gene-ocide. This is when you destroy your own genes through incessant inbreeding.
Thursday, 16 June 2011
They tried to make me go to rehab
I have a serious addiction.
I am addicted to Weetos.
For those not in the know, Weetos is a new cereal from the makers of Wheatabix. Like a grainy chocolatey version of Cheerios.
I've blown through several big packets of this chocolate heroin in the space of a week. Conversation has become an unbearable interlude between bowls. The walk to the supermarket, hands shaking, withdrawal sweats. Squinting into the bright lights of Morrisons, my vision is blurred. I feel weak. I feel dizzy.
And then I see it.
At the end of the aisle; Weetos. Sweet, crunchy deviancy. I grab the precious and scuttle to the till.
I ignore the cashier's judgemental stare, her hand hovering over the secret security button under the till. Smoothing the sweat from my forehead, adjusting my dishevelled clothes I attempt a smile. Pennies exchanged for cereal. Success.
Home. Calm. Relieved. Giddy.
No milk.
No hope.
No point.
I am addicted to Weetos.
For those not in the know, Weetos is a new cereal from the makers of Wheatabix. Like a grainy chocolatey version of Cheerios.
I've blown through several big packets of this chocolate heroin in the space of a week. Conversation has become an unbearable interlude between bowls. The walk to the supermarket, hands shaking, withdrawal sweats. Squinting into the bright lights of Morrisons, my vision is blurred. I feel weak. I feel dizzy.
And then I see it.
At the end of the aisle; Weetos. Sweet, crunchy deviancy. I grab the precious and scuttle to the till.
I ignore the cashier's judgemental stare, her hand hovering over the secret security button under the till. Smoothing the sweat from my forehead, adjusting my dishevelled clothes I attempt a smile. Pennies exchanged for cereal. Success.
Home. Calm. Relieved. Giddy.
No milk.
No hope.
No point.
Tuesday, 14 June 2011
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