Oooooh I am just sliding in under the two week deadline I try and set myself to stick up a new blog. One week, six days is none to shabby considering… well not considering anything, but it would appear World of Warcraft and building small things gets in the way sometimes.
Am I the only one enjoying this current weather trend of nice and sunny in the morning to wake me up and then rainy afternoons to wash the filth from the streets… especially today as it is giro day.
The first Grand Prix of the year has been and gone and it was interesting. Sadly it wasn’t interesting in the way I would have liked it. I don’t remember the pre-1994 races without refueling being so lacklustre and rather bland. I know the Bahrain track is one of those tracks that doesn’t lend itself to overtaking, even less so with the new midfield section (fuck knows what Silverstone will be like now they have added a huge bit in the middle and further ruined one of the classic circuits, bastards). So it was race, in to the pits for those new boots and then out again and dear goodness don’t race, push the tyres too hard or try to overtake anything.
They probably could have drawn the winners from a hat and left it at that. Sunday is Adelaide and I do hope they manage to race this time rather than drive around showing the world that their sponsors have a lot of money.
What else has amused me recently…
Oh yes, the mini bus full of “special needs” children who were being lovingly chaffeured past me by a driver with a sense of humour… who kept tapping the brake/throttle and making a knodder effect on the entire group of passengers.
One thing that has been getting on my tits more and more recently is this plague of girls who seem to have had trouble deciding what to wear. I am not talking about those classy slappers you see with a belt barely covering their massive vagina and a top that would barely qualify as a tissue to most of us, I mean those scene ladies who appear to have stood in front of their wardrobe, selected three outfits and then absentmindedly put the whole lot on. It’s a bit like using the Mr Bean method of painting, place a large, lit firework in a pile of random clothes and stand ready…
…seconds later… BOOOOOOM and there you go. Leggings AND skinnies AND tights AND four different tops in four colours that would look clashy on a pizza.! Maybe I am just getting old… but I like a well dressed woman and that doesn’t mean they can’t look casual as well.
There is a new entry in the “bad advertising slogan” listing that I happened across earlier on. The JML Miracle Blade knife set, courtesy of “Chef Tony”, the guy who advertises it and possibly appears in the Go fucking Compare advert too (same stupid ‘tache) comes with the serial killer friendly catch line… “This is the last set of knives you will ever need”. Well I assume that is because you will soon be arrested having butchered that girl you saw through the curtains of her lonely farmhouse as well as her family, the pizza delivery dude, three policeman and a prostitute called Cheryl.
As the general election approaches there are rumours that if the Tories cannot get a big enough majority there could be a hung parliament. I can only assume both Mark Speight and Kristian Digby were both budding politicians.
British Airways are finally settling down to normal after their thieving overpaid, underworked cabin staff went on strike for more money. Again. Well done people. You make me defend a company I detest in an industry I hate. Ok so BA make a fair bit of money, but these money grabbing bastards aren’t exactly paid a pittance.! The AVERAGE wage packet is around THIRTY THOUSAND POUNDS A YEAR. I’ll tell you what Mr and Mrs BA Cabin crew member, come and do my job for half that and then see how lucky you are. Or you could just fuck off and drown quietly somewhere.
Bloody unions (although in the case of the planned rail strikes, I do back them, thanks to Network Rail cutting work when there is SO much that needs doing, Labour really know how to run the country).
And finally tonight (as the girl who was one hundred squagillion percent sure that her ex was the father and who is now sobbing as she finds out someone else chucked one up her pipe) The Now Show revealed to me that the Americans, such as they are, have created a robot.
Now this is no ordinary robot. It doesn’t automatically buy doughnuts or turn over the Tivo box to another episode of bloody Lost, it is a battlefield robot that regenerates automnously through organic matter. In other words, they have developed a flesh eating android. The bot, called EATR, can devour grass, trees, shrubs etc to repair itself in a war situation. But it can also be programmed to eat flesh, be it human or otherwise. What do you normally find in a large quantity on the field of battle though… yup, bodies. Dead bodies which can be chewed up and used to create more dead bodies.
Oh joy. Well if I don’t compose another blog within the next two weeks, consider my vitals have been scoffed by a 2010 version of Jonny Five. Lovely.!
*****LATE NEWS *****
Actually can I add a side note on the whole clothing thing… Why is it that the same girls who appear “bomb dressed” are the ones who have a folder on facebook that is populated by the same webcam photo repeated 78 times of her and her mate looking at the camera and occasionally laughing, sometimes a pout, sometimes a grimace. Why.??? I don’t sit here and take a hundred photos of me looking at the screen whilst I play WoW or stuff a pizza down my neck, maybe I should.!? Imagine if you had to put that sort of thing on a CV when applying for a job…
“Oh and here are some photos. In this one I blinked. Then my friend did in this one. Then my cat came in and I waved at it. Then my friend found a biscuit. Then we decided to fill my entire 320Gb hard drive with the SAME FUCKING PHOTO”.
It’s a good job Steven Spielberg didn’t get involved with that sort of caper otherwise Star Wars would be one long set of pics of him and Chewy spaffing their pants because the webcam just moved two millimetres on it’s own and then someone said the word “toast” in a funny voice.