Wow...Just...Wow

Hello.

Yes, yes, I know I said I was taking a break, I wouldn't blog again in January etc etc. And that really was my intention my friends, but last night I saw a video. Oh no - not just any video. A video that might just be the greatest thing I've ever seen.

And I knew I had to blog about it. Because:

a) If I don't, I'll regret not showing my loyal readers

b) I I don't, Vole will see it very soon and put it on his blog instead

c) It's awesome, m'kay?

Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls. Courtesy of the splendid Ken Tremendous (you checked out firejoemorgan.com yet? If not, why not?) here is the video:

I know it's 16 minutes long, but, trust me. Watch this. NOW.

And remember, this was done by Yale themselves. Not Harvard, as a joke. Yale.

Wow.

EDIT - It's not fucking working isn't it? Oh, for God's sake.

Here is the URL if that video isn't working for you: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tGn3-RW8Ajk

Something To Tide You Over

Hello folks. I'm taking some time out from the internet at the moment, so this will probably be my last blog entry in January. Stop the tears, please.

Something on my stat-porn just caught my eye and made me laugh though, and thought I'd share it with you all. Some chap from Holland visited a particular entry, and then ran the page through an English/Dutch translation website. Yes, I can see your Exit Pages. Anyway, the results of these translations are quite amusing.

The first bit of my "About Me" section now reads as:

Ik ben een aarzelen, egoïstisch, sarcastisch nerd. Ik ben licht geobsedeerd met Ana Ivanovic, Dido en Manchester United.

And how about some of the blog titles that are on my blog list?

"What rhymes with Lauren, apart from the word foreign?" now becomes "Wat rijmt met Lauren, afgezien van het woord buitenland?"

"Ramblings of a half-hearted optimist" now becomes "Ramblings van een halfslachtige optimist"

"Cynical Ben" now becomes "Cynisch Ben" which sounds so much better.

And "Sue's Blog" now becomes............................. "Sue's Blog".

Thankyou, Dutch friend!

£1.50

Unless you've been under a rock or living on Jupiter for the past few weeks, you'll know all about the weather conditions this country has been battling with lately. Earlier today, as I sat shivering in my house, wearing a jumper and slippers, I began thinking about the people who aren't lucky enough to have a roof above their heads, or aren't currently wearing warm jumpers and sitting at laptops or in front of nice TV screens.

Yes folks, despite all the faux-anger I direct on this blog towards idiots who write letters, I am a big softie at heart. And then I began thinking about John Bird.

I admire this man greatly. After a traumatic youth, which involved spending time in an orphanage, in prison and on the streets, he co-founded The Big Issue in 1991 which gives homeless people the chance to make an honest living by selling it on the streets. Let's make one thing clear - Bird is a businessman. He isn't a charity, and openly acknowledges that he makes money out of his venture. However, his passion and commitment towards helping the homeless shouldn't be ignored, and I think sadly it is.

Look at some of the people who have been knighted recently: Sir Mick Jagger. Sir Alex Ferguson. Sir Elton John. Sir Alan Sugar. Okay, good musicians, good football manager, good businessman. But, in my personal opinion, I think that if they've been knighted, so should John Bird. Just my thoughts.

ANYWAY I'm rambling. The point of this blog entry, before I got side-tracked, was to talk about The Big Issue. How many of you buy it? Since I've started university, I regularly bump into the guy selling them in Wolverhampton, and if I have loose change on me and close to hand, I always purchase an issue. It's not a bad magazine actually - the film and music reviews are always honest, and there's some good features. There's no sports section, but that's a petty criticism. The poetry is usually pretty dire, but that's even pettier. The crossword is nice and challenging.

All in all, it's not too shabby. If you don't buy it, or never have - there's my little challenge to you. Next time, instead of blanking the person standing on the street selling one, dig out £1.50 and give it a try. If nothing else, you'll feel a bit better about yourself, as I know I do. And it might just contribute to someone being a little bit warmer on these cold nights.

3/3

Let's tackle the last one of these "reader blog ideas" that was sent in, this time courtesy of the lovely Sue. Let's see what she wishes for me to tackle:

Sue's Blog said...

Transmogrification

Right. Just one second....(goes off to dictionary.com)

Oh right, I see. Well, the first thing that has sprung to my mind regarding this topic is a ghastly set of books called 'Animorphs' which were everywhere a few years back when I was at school. I think CBBC then made a TV series based on them. Some of my friends liked them, whereas I thought they were shit.

If I could turn into any animal? Hmm, a tricky one. Dolphins, I believe, are the only mammals that enjoy sex. Apart from humans, of course, although I find it more uncomfortable than enjoyable. Perhaps I would like to be an animal that hibernates through the winter, and wakes up in time for my favourite season, Spring.

I would love to be a bird though - to soar through the skies, looking down upon the towns, and the countryside, and the sea, without a care in the world. But I'd also like to be a lion, the King of all animals. I honestly can't decide.

Of course, transmogrification just doesn't apply to animals - it is the changing in appearance or form. That reminds me in turn of a character called Eugene Tooms in the marvellous TV series The X-Files, who could mutate his body at will. Whilst I don't wish to murder people, that function would perhaps come in handy when, say, rescuing golf balls from when I've whacked them into hedges, streams etc.

It's an interesting topic, if nothing else. What animal would YOU be, dear reader?

Thanks for the suggestion Sue!

A Good Day

Hello folks.

I've had a good day. I had to brave the journey into Wolverhampton to drop off an essay, and despite being a tad nervous about the trip there and back it went splendidly well:

Number of times I slipped over - 0

Number of snowballs thrown at me by little scrotes - 0

Trains on time - 2

Once in Wolvo, I dropped off the essay to a rather pretty blonde in the office, picked up some splendid books (many thanks Ben), tried to bribe a lecturer and then went shopping.

Here's something you don't know ladies - you think men don't like being dragged around the shops, right? That's not quite true - what we don't like is being dragged around women's shops.

Shoes. Handbags. Dresses. Underwear. Shoes. Make-up. Perfume. Cosmetics. More bloody shoes. This is what we do not like. Think of it in this simple term - we're far more interested in you taking your underwear off then trying it on for an hour in a humid shop changing room area.

But, shops. Proper shops. By golly, I'm a fan. I emerged from the high street after a fun hour with new XBox games, new books, new darts, food and drink. I would have stayed longer, but a) I had a train to catch and b) I had no room left in my bag. A shame, as I would love a new jumper and some new jeans.

I then have arrived home to find that Liz McClarnon, that lovely little Atomic Kitten sexpot, is following me on Twitter.

It's been a good day. I'm now going to read the Sloppy Star's letters page. Fingers crossed for a Slarkie special!

Sloppy Star Goodness

For months now I've been ridiculing the stupid and bizarre letters into the Shropshire Star, as regular readers will no doubt know. However, in a slight change, it is not a letter that is prompting me to blog. It is an article written on one of the sports pages. Let's check it out, and marvel in it's irrelevance and banality:

If Sir Alex Ferguson need any reminding of the fickle nature of football supporters, he would have got it by tuning into MUTV immediately after Manchester United's stunning FA Cup demise.

Not really. We were all angry after the game, and things are sometimes said in the heat of the moment which you later regret. I for one asked for the ground to be destroyed and for Berbatov to be given as a human sacrifice in the centre circle. A few days on, I appreciate that is nonsense. The ground can stay.

Ferguson is a man who has delivered 11 league titles - and is currently aiming for a record fourth on the trot - five FA Cups and two Champions League triumphs in a period of unparalleled dominance. This, in case anyone needed to know, followed a fallow period that brought three FA Cups in 16 years that also included the ignominy of relegation to the old Second Division.

Get on with it.

It has, quite rightly, made Ferguson bulletproof in managerial terms. The thought of United willingly getting rid of the 68 year old to make way for Jose Mourinho, or anyone else for that matter, is impossible to conceive. Yet the first caller on the post-match phone-in wanted exactly that, along with the sales of a dozen players deemed not worthy of United's famous history, a history Ferguson has done so much to shape.

Not too sure what this article is about, to be honest. I did have a horrible feeling it was a load of shit based on one phone-call.

Now, it was easy to imagine this reaction as being some elaborate hoax, that the caller was sitting in front of his armchair wearing a blue and white Man City scarf eagerly making mischief ahead of tomorrow's Carling Cup match.

Oh, wait, I was right. It is. Cool.

Yet it also emphasised just how difficult Ferguson's job is in rapidly changing times across the whole football landscape.

Not too sure what this bit means.

"I don't know where he was coming from or how long he had been waiting to make the call but if he truly believes getting rid of the best manager Manchester United have had would help improve the situation, he is living in different world to me," said Lou Macari, a pundit on the phone-in.

Thank God. Its okay folks - Little Lou is here! You can rely on him to talk sense.

"The problem, and this is football's problem, not just Manchester United, is that the players are just not there anymore.

Or maybe you can't rely on him. He is getting on a bit now, mind.

Problem with Manchester United on Sunday - the players just weren't there. There was one hysterical moment where Gibson passed it to Neville.....and he had disappeared! Haha!

In the past, United had guys like Steve Bruce, Roy Keane, Bryan Robson and Mark Hughes who would literally go to war in order to win a football match.

Literally.

I don't see many of those characters around now."

They are all off in Afghanistan, Lou!

Macari is reluctant to stick the boot into United's players, especially the young ones who still have plenty to learn and much development to do.

I dunno mate, he did just say that none of them own any testicles anymore, pretty much.

It leaves Ferguson to massage a few egos over the next 48 hours to try and piece together a winning team for Wednesday's Carling Cup semi-final.

A game which has now been cancelled. Oh dear, this is just such a long-winded, strange, irrelevant waste of ink. You made me type all of that out, Simon Stone, and therefore I dislike you.

Coming up in tomorrow's Slop - an article about someone phoning The Wright Stuff!

How to Write an Essay Part 2

For each question, use at least TWO plays studied on the module, giving equal weight to your chosen texts.