"Picnic" archive - Spring 2006
All the weblog entries from the modern version of the site - March 2006 to May 2006.
» September 2006 to November 2006
» June 2006 to August 2006
May 2006
» 27.5 - Torturing plebs, part 2.
» 25.5 - Last day! Pull ya socks up, son! etc.
» 22.5 - New shoes? Oh!
» 18.5 - This site may not reply because his or her status is set to Away.
» 17.5 - Brain rot.
» 16.5 - For once...
» 11.5 - Star*ucks.
» 10.5 - Stop, look, engage.
» 9.5 - Holy smokes 'n' Jesus!
» 8.5 - Is John Bunnell the hardest man ever?
» 6.5 - Your pedantic.
» 2.5 - That's what I want.
April 2006
» 29.4 - Bugs.
» 26.4 - No more nails.
» 22.4 - Es are good! Es are good! Ebonies are good!
» 20.4 - Eb, Bbm, Bbm, Ab x ∞.
» 19.4 - Why I smite my left-hand fringe.
» 18.4 - L'école n'est pas fini.
» 14.4 - You try coming up with 200 different ways of bloody saying it.
» 8.4 - Stop playing with yourself.
» 4.4 - Blick?
March 2006
» 27.3 - Cherry Ice Tea.
» 26.3 - Abandon the experiment.
» 21.3 - Cheers!
» 20.3 - The whole "experience/wisdom thing".
» 18.3 - Make a note of that in your copy books NOW.
» 15.3 - Phosphoric acid.
» 13.3 - I got a halo round my head.
» 12.3 - The drugs don't work.
» 9.3 - What if I lose my card or it's stolen?
» 8.3 - Living off nothing.
» 4.3 - Check it out!
» 3.3 - Three things you will never say to me again.
» 1.3 - Fix or no fix?
» October 2005 to February 2006
27.5 - Torturing plebs, part 2.
Employee: How may I serve you?
Wales: Oh, go on, then. I'll have... (outrageously quickly) two BigMacMealswithCoke, please.
Employee: What drink would you like with that?
Wales: Sprite.
Employee: £6.78, please.
Works every time.
Whoa, dude, doesn't Verdana look like Arial after a drink or seven? Trippy.
25.5 - Last day! Pull ya socks up, son! etc.
Last day ever of secondary education tomorrow. Woe!
I am now faced with the agonising dilemma of whether to stay up until 3am to catch the Lost season 2 finale that's taking (quite literally) forever to download, or go to bed early and reserve my bioenergy for the pub crawl tomorrow. I can't decide! You decide for me.
In Mrs. Latchman news: whatever happened to Mrs. Latchman?
22.5 - New shoes? Oh!
Yeah, and they bloody hurt the sides of my feet an' all. AND! I've just had my mophead eliminated, which looks totally surreal. As Jalil Hutchens once said: "A new phase is here!" Except he only really ever said that once. I'm a ho, deal with it.
So... it's the end of May, so naturally it has to rain for five whole days in succession, just because it can. On Saturday I got lost in the woods and ended up having to trudge wearily around the whole bloody perimeter to get back to the car. I defiled my one remaining good pair of shoes in the process, and managed to break two public bylaws just by jumping fences.
My prosecution and life sentencing will take place at Cambridge Crown Court on Monday 19th June, right after the hotly-debated conclusion to Postlethwaitegate.
18.5 - This site may not reply because his or her status is set to Away.
More heinous misuse of MSN protocol: people leaving their status set to Away or Busy when they are actually fast asleep and completely uncontactable.
On the equally disgusting flipside: those who go and hide behind Away/Busy statuses as a half-baked social security method (only the keenest motherf*ckers get to speak to me tonight!).
A few people seem to be getting the hang of 962 display pic cropping, however, so maybe humanity does have a hope after all.
17.5 - Brain rot.
Word association is a strange phenomenomenomenon. Don't you find there's lots of simple words in the English language that cause you to think of something totally unrelated, because your mind is etched with a previous experience (invariably childhood) that leads you to the same mental image each time?
A word such as 'ball' makes me think of a burst bit of cobweb-covered fabric that got stuck round the back of the garden shed at the old house. This is understandably my first memory of a 'ball' and consequently the association most deeply embedded into my mind. The word 'pad' conjures up an image of my old Brian Cant Speak and Spell, the one I distinctively remember thinking that Brian Cant actually lived in. How else could the bloody thing talk like Brian bloody Cant? I wasn't to know! I was THREE!
The most peculiar word-ass (see, I've abbreviated it now) of all time, however, has to be the word 'sin'. Say the word 'sin' to me now. Right? I'm not kidding about with you now... this is exactly what I just thought of:
Amazing! Because Satanism is now fully compulsory by British law, the above tasty Heinz dish has now become my new breakfast of choice. Eating it is my daily ritual to the Prince of Darkness himself. I eat sin, I digest sin, I become sin: the preternatural embodiment of universal evil is pleased with me. It's plusgood!
Actually, I think this ass (did it again, there) stems from a portmanteau of the words 'sausage' + 'tin' = 'sin'. Do you get it? I hope you don't. Why anyone other than me would get this and eat it whole is totally beyond me. But if that's the way it's gonna be, then that's the way it's gonna be.
In ethanoic news: Smirnoff Black Ice is the best poof juice ever. An alcopop that tastes like freeze pops? I tell you! It's no wonder the only thing this country has ever gotten a gold medal for is underage clinical alcoholism. Or "binge drinking", as the BBC would so neatly have us put it. Or "boozing", as the Cambridge Evening News will say week upon week upon week upon week upon day upon week upon day upon week.
Government statistic: 136% of all under-18s in Britain consume more than twelve to fourteen units of industrial alcohol a day. And that's NOT a fact!
16.5 - For once...
I do actually have nothing to say. Can you tell?
11.5 - Star*ucks.
Employee: How may I serve you?
Wales: Oh, go on, then. I'll have a big strawberry milkshake... thing.
Employee: A large Strawberries and Cream Frappuccino?
Wales: Yes... a "large Strawberries and Cream Frappuccino"...
Employee: Would you like cream with that?
Wales: No, it's Strawberries and Cream. What do you think, cock?
Employee: £3.30, please.
10.5 - Stop, look, engage.
I fiddled with the Green Cross Man! Actually, that's not strictly true. I've been under the false impression that every pelican crossing switch box has a hole on the underbelly which contains a little button, which you can reach under and press to cheat the system and change the lights straight off.
EXCEPT! I've just been told that this was actually a running joke which, for a good 3-4 years at least, I have completely fallen for. I have in fact been living under an umbrella of lies and deceit: the Green Cross Man cannot and will not spawn upon immediate request. He will change when he's GOOD AND READY.
Apologies to our (my) American readers for referencing such alien concepts as "pelican crossings", "Green Cross Men" and "umbrellas of lies and deceit". We (I) are (am) aware none of these things exist in the States, and sympathise (sympathize) with you all for your feelings of confusion and misguidance. We (I) are (am) working round the clock to rectify this issue, and normal transmission will be resumed as soon as possible.
Test card!
9.5 - Holy smokes 'n' Jesus!
Laugh! I apparently have a "seefour mock" tomorrow. What can this mean?
8.5 - Is John Bunnell the hardest man ever?
"San Juan County, New Mexico! A group of bored teenagers decides it's a nice night for a JOYRIDE! But the Sheriff's deputies on their tail DON'T AGREE! When the kids refuse to stop, the officers consider their options for reigning in DANGEROUS DRIVERS! When a safe opportunity opens up, they hobble the vehicle by SHOOTING OUT ITS TIRES! The exposed rim sends SPARKS FLYING from the wheel well! But the thrillseeking kids STILL think they have the STUFF to OUTRUN THE LAW!"
"The deputies TURN UP THE HEAT! They surround the car and try to BUMP IT OFF THE PAVEMENT! The Compact takes a beating, but the kids DON'T CARE! After all, it's a STOLEN CAR! It's time for the KNOCKOUT PUNCH! A deputy closes in on the vehicle and attempts a PIT MANOUEVRE! The RECKLESS TEEN DODGES the other cruiser! The deputy SMACKS THE CAR AGAIN! It's enough to scare the teens into STOPPING! They don't want to find out what else the deputies are PLANNING!"
"Surrounded by OFFICERS, the driver tries ONE MORE DESPERATE MOVE. <unbridled complacency> HE LOCKS HIS DOOR! </unbridled complacency> At best, he bought himself a FEW MORE SECONDS OF FREEDOM... it's the last free time he'll have for QUITE A WHILE..."
"Four teenagers with time on their hands can find a LOT OF WAYS to get into trouble... but stealing a car and taking it for a spin... is just plain DUMB."
What is it that moves me about World's Wildest Police Videos (Channel 5) more than your average cop video show? Is it presenter/narrator John Bunnell, the hard ex-cop with gritted teeth, sleek grey hairline and an incontinent burning passion for SMARMY SHOUTING? Is it the way the entire programme centres around the notion that every criminal alive will inevitably be stopped, probably thanks to American gun legislation? Is it the unnecessary 'summary' John insists on giving the goldfish target audience at the end of each scene?
Well, yes, it could be any of these things. But one thing's for certain: this Tim Halbert thought he could get away with slamming our cop show... but the only slamming HE'LL be getting... is being SLAMMED UP... in JAIL... for a LONG, LONG TIME.
Two more remixes from The Kenneth Brannagh Show to the right.
6.5 - Your pedantic.
A Welshman and I had an important discussion yesterday about pedantry. Is it strictly necessary to fix grammatical and punctuatory mistakes, and when and why can you get away with bending the rules?
See here. Our school leavers' yearbook is going to be a stylistic disaster of epic proportions. The error count is between 20 and 30 on most pages, and sometimes even more... that's not to mention the pictures, which are generally stretched as opposed to cropped. The lack of elementary desktop publishing training is blood-curdling. The thing is, nobody except me appears to care. I know nobody will fix it. I know half the people in charge won't even see that there's anything there to fix.
If your target audience won't notice, you don't have to change it. Apparently. 95-99% of people just don't pick up on typos, absent commas, embarassed lower cases or humiliated apostrophes. But why take the risk of looking unprofessional to even that tiny few, especially with something that costs nigh on a grand to publish?
I simply can't take that risk. I'm subconsciously reading every sentence three times over as I type this. Including that one. And that one! This is because there is someone out there who cares more about this than I do ("is it wrong to fancy Mavis Beacon?"). Really, at the end of the day, it's my credibility on the line. We have to 'seem' approachable to 100% of all humans everywhere.
And if pissing all that up the wall didn't make us look approachable to 100% of all humans everywhere, I DON'T KNOW WHAT WILL.
2.5 - That's what I want.
Do you know how much money is mislaid by Britons every year because of the pennies they get lumbered with because everything's priced £x.99? No, you don't. The answer is £133,000,000.00. That's £133,000,000.00. Did you get that? £133,000,000.00.
What are our options?
1. Outlaw 99p suffixing. Oh, it's such a clever sales tactic, isn't it? No, this £150,000 Lamborghini looks too expensive... let's knock it down to £149,999.99! SALE!!! Piss off.
2. Introduce the 99p coin. Although, to be honest, this would probably set off strings of pesky £x.98s, which would defeat the point somewhat. Well worth wasting billions of taxpayers' money on coinage just to see the reaction, though...
3. Outlaw 1p/2p coins. Obviously, because this is such a great idea, it's already been done in Australia. Even if some shops do price things in raw cents, when you come to the checkout, they'll round it up/down at a 50:50 random shot, just to keep the economy unaffected. Isn't that sweet? With all that money they're saving now, it's no wonder they can afford stuff like SUNSHINE. Tuh!
Put simply, our currency system is bollocks. And dull! There's some African currency that I think works up in denominations of 1, 3, 10, 30, 100 etc. The creativity is insane! We need this! Where have all our creative genii gone? Oh, they're busy working on Big Brother 7. Best we don't disturb them, eh?
In Horoscope news: I might bring Horoscope back.
29.4 - Bugs.
I only have two power sockets to play with next to my bed. I have a lot of chargers. A battery charger, a phone charger, an iRiver charger, not to mention a spare set of holes for my lamp and stereo. Short of wanting to stick my fingers into them, procuring an instant death and cheating myself out of the fallacy of life itself, I'm left with no option but to use a twin set of clunky-looking triple adapters.
How typical, then, that the heads of each of my chargers are so unnecessarily overdimensional, I can't fit them all into the wall without either managing to bend the connecting leads so far that they snap, or having to squat next to my bed for up to 45 minutes puzzling over the correct arrangement of chargers like I was on the bloody Crystal Maze or something.
His Royal Highness Sir Jesus Christ, I'd be better off harnessing the power of the insects that live in the downstairs loo to get on a treadmill and do my charging for me.
Oh, dear. They're all dead. How did that happen? Oh, I appear to have caused them to die by trapping them in empty Jello pots. Well... bless you, ants. "Blants."
2 new clips. Coming up next on The Tim Halbert Show: blowing money.
26.4 - No more nails.
I just can't abide cutting my nails. I refuse to do it. I will never take a pair of scissors to myself. Why would I? Where is the sense in that? Surgical removal of all nails and replacement with a skin graft, from now on, please.
Took A2 music recital today, attempting to land 65 marks in the space of about 13 minutes, which works out at around 5 marks a minute, or 0.2% of the entire course every 12 seconds. GOOD SPREADING OUT.
Anyways, it went superbly. Whew. Next up: stinking, horrible power sockets.
22.4 - Es are good! Es are good! Ebonies are good!
I've never liked the downstairs loo (see right) much. I tend to associate it with cold tiles that make your feet burn, and consider its altitude to be inferior to that of an upstairs toilet. After all, it's on the same ground level as a smelly, pleb lavatory, like the one on the edge of Lion Yard, a filthy constitution by any man (or tramp)'s standards.
Therefore, I haven't number 2d (no apostrophe) in any downstairs loo - anywhere in the world - since I was a single digit old. And THAT'S a fact!
HJB and I are going to Plymouth tomorrow to party and bar about a bit with Jules from Plymouth and her league of gentlemen (and gentle women). Plymouth is the only remaining city in the United Kingdom whose name merges together the words PLYWOOD and TOILETMOUTH, don't you know! And THAT'S a fact!
Whilst cutting up red card at the kitchen table, we (plural "we", none of that ambiguous shite, please) heard Ebeneezer Goode by the Shamen on Radio 1. Radio 1?! That certainly cranks them up a few notches higher than where I previously had them (zero). Radio 1, that is. Ebeneezer Goode will always be right up there at the very top. It's about ecstasy pills! And appreciation of coloured people! And THAT'S NOT a fact!
Next time: cutting my nails... not. A new audio clip's down there, by the way.
20.4 - Eb, Bbm, Bbm, Ab x ∞.
Alarm clocks, then. What's he gone and put a picture of a mobile telephone up there for? That's because the mobile telephone is the alarm clock.
Now, when I first used my mobile telephone as an alarm clock, it didn't so much wake me up as turn me into a quivering wreck: getting woken up by a ringtone?!... ugh... *shudder*
Trouble is, you go a certain amount of time with the same old morning ringtone, and you end up developing a natural immunity to the sound. You're able to switch the bloody thing off without even coming out of Delta-phase slumber. I don't notice my alarm clock going off anymore. Changing the ringtone on a regular basis is also completely ineffective because I've already gone through all available ringtones (and the Nokia 3100 is, well, how you say, "not very download-friendly"?).
Now when I get woken up manually after however long I've slept in for (3 minutes, 10 minutes, an hour, the entire morning, beyond adulthood), I don't even remember an alarm clock in the first place. This rather defeats the object, don't you think?
So you can probably imagine I'm really looking forward to University, where there will be no manual wake-up call, and the future of my career will rest solely on the repression of my ass-kicking, alarm-beating subconsciousness.
That said, at least I beat one alarm today: the one that goes off every single time you take a Theory Test, you know the one? I beat that one. Oh yes. I went there.
Next: irrational fear of low-flying toilets.
19.4 - Why I smite my left-hand fringe.
My left-hand fringe always seems to want to stay over to the left. It even curls if it's feeling desperate enough. This has been the case in my life for well over six years, and it is really annoying. Why, my own hair is insinuating it wants to 'be' curtains, like Prince of Persia! Or Simon Hall!
I don't have any pictures because Sister Katy ("Pie Iesu domine, dona eis requiem") isn't on hand to hold the camera. Only other viable option is to take a photo of myself in the mirror. But we won't be doing this today, friends, because that would make me a stinking, self-obsessed little MYSPACE user, and I would be forced to gurn horribly just to qualify.
Next time: alarm clocks.
18.4 - L'école n'est pas fini.
Oh, hell. I've got to go back to school. Last term ever, though!
Shock news. Daily Number Link will be discontinued at the end of April. This is because it isn't Number Link, strictly speaking. Strange how it's taken me since October to figure that out...
The point is, I'm just not cut out for the job. To cut a long-winded explanation short, you need to be able to make a puzzle with no multiple solutions and no stipulation that all squares have to be filled. In my case, I have to stipulate it every time, because I suck. If I was an absolute bloody genius, yes, I might have a hope. For the time being, though, no.
A different puzzle in its place, perhaps? Possibly, but not right now. Life's slightly more full of surprises now than it was six months ago. I didn't think NL would come this far, in all honesty, and I appreciate the large amount of support I've received during that time. The puzzles themselves will remain in place until the Earth freezes over.
Coming soon: why I smite my left-hand fringe.
14.4 - You try coming up with 200 different ways of bloody saying it.
Hey, kids. Don't listen to what those faggots are telling you. Being on the telly is cool, ma-a-an! (Or something to that effect.)
Actually, we had a really good run of luck today. Not only was it a Saturday show (Saturday being the day that pwns the ass of every other day of the week into submission), but we got to sit BEHIND the lass that was playing, and Theresa (is that it, with an H? I guess not, no? edit: no) got to say 1, 2 or 3 because she was sitting on the end. The place is much brighter and the boxes are much smaller in reality.
And for some reason, Noel "Fantastic" Edmonds decided to stare us down (by "us" I mean the collective embodiment of all those that write this site, which basically means me, but you get the hang of this by now) during the random selection bit... I want to know why you were staring us down, Mr. Edmonds. Please get in touch. Immediately. I want my Crinkley Bottom annual signed.
June 24th, 5.30pm, Channel 4, there.
In other news, I failed my Theory Test because a fire alarm (false) went off in the middle of Hazard Perception, and we all had to be evacuated (that's "we" as in "us", not "we" as in "I": there are exceptions to the rule).
New unlucky numbers: 11, 12 and 13 (in that order).
8.4 - Stop playing with yourself.
They ARE doable. Now shut up about it.
Those Satan-born Morrisons ads are back, and we aren't happy about it. They've now gone and cranked it up to Reason FOUR HUNDRED. Every time I think they've defied human belief, they go and do it again. You can't get away with this, you fiends! I'll see that you burn at the feet of Los Tescos!
This Easter holiday is not very good, if we're being brutally frank (and, let's face it, why not *be* Frank Bruno once in a while?). I haven't really achieved anything.
Firstly, I've become totally dependent on chocolate, and no, I'm still not even pudgy-looking yet. Disgraceful, isn't it? Secondly, I haven't done any of my projected twenty-five hour coursework load. None of it. Thirdly, my bedtime is 4am and wake-up time is 1pm. Normally, this is good, but for some reason or another, it just feels sickly.
Maybe I'm turning into... A SAD OLD GROWN-UP?! Perish the thought.
Even worse, why didn't I discover Multi Theft Auto sooner? Why didn't I? Why didn't? Didn't? etc.
4.4 - Blick?
h4x0r€d III was almost, almost, almost ruined by the dictator of France herself, Mrs. Jacques Chirac. Yet, even with their flights cancelled at the last hour, the h4x0r3d crew remained defiant in the face of their Gallic opposition: h4x0r£d III.
We made a three course meal, set fire to things, watched a couple of films, played Worms, made mouthwash-flavour Andrew Bennetts (and didn't drink them), put on dodgy South African accents, repeatedly called for Mr. Eko, and (last but not least)... boiled an egg with raw lighter fluid and a Coke can.
I've also started watching season 2 of Lost, which is incredibly hypocritical of me, isn't it? We always welcome a regular dose of foreign people shooting and stabbing each other over and over again in a pristine Hawaiian jungle environment. Yes. And I've just got hold of both series of The Thin Blue Line featuring Rowan Atkinson and David "Bugger And Off" Haig, which is something to be pleased about at ANY rate.
Do you know what's making me really angry, though? This pitiful excuse of a "DVD wallet". Firstly, I've put all my burned DVDs in it, and they've all had to come out at least five times each, either through (1) needing to re-arrange them because the sleeves are all the wrong way round; or (2) because they keep BLOODY FALLING OUT ALL OVER THE PLACE.
It even came with a free, bonus "marker pen" for "labelling" your "DVDs", which, as you can probably guess by now, didn't work. The probability of a French person being behind this "DVD wallet" conspiracy is absolutely enormous. While we're at it, we can probably blame them for the Foil Guy, too. And warm beer.
27.3 - Cherry Ice Tea.
Looks like I/we/whoever could be bothered after all!
Hop over to the Gallery for photos of the party, in addition to some stuff from today's "Enrichment" "Art" "Trip" that was supposed to last 3 hours but actually only lasted just under 2 hours because the staff taking us suddenly couldn't be arsed anymore. Field Day, there.
I do, in fact, have a non-existent personal database of plant names, as you can probably tell from such elaborate captions as "Pink flowers" and "More pink flowers" and "Strange red spiky thingy". Botany was never going to be a strong point at www.timhalbert.com, let's face it, but at least we now have weird pictures like the one over to the right that all seem to fit our insane, compulsive colour scheme remit.
There's three new bits of music to the right as well. I should probably start making a separate page for this year's stuff.
The magic number is 96.
26.3 - Abandon the experiment.
It's been a quiet week for this site because it's been a rather noisy week everywhere else. Now I've had both my last ever birthday and its corresponding party, the next port of call is South France for h4x0r€d III, the conclusion of the h4x0r3d Trilogy (or is it?).
Because of this, the site will not be updated until I get back, which won't be until about half a week into April.
This means, that, for the second year running, I now miss April Fool's Day and won't get to put up some hilarious April Fool's parody which'd have me in stitches and you shrugging your shoulders, looking left and right and mumbling "huh?". Look on the bright side, you get a week's advance on Number Link! Great.
We'll put up some birthday photos if and when I can be bothered.
21.3 - Cheers!
20.3 - The whole "experience/wisdom thing".
You thought turning 18 was all about drinking Boomshine, getting a council flat, renting naughty films, getting married without telling your 'rents and voting for whichever party has the token slaphead, didn't you?
WELL YOU'RE ALL WRONG. It's now also possible, at the ripe ol' age of eighteen years, for me to legally:
» Give lifts to strangers.
» Consume marijuana through a straw.
» Steal another man's horse (and not have to give it back).
» Be a homosexual.
» Commit suicide.
» Buy more than one Lottery ticket at a time.
» Invade remote tribal settlements and rename them all "TimHalbertLand".
» Arrange bullfights in the back garden.
» Drive a sit-on lawnmover down a dual carriageway.
» Progress to the age of 19 (and maybe even further if the Corporation will let me).
Just you try telling that to your Mum and Dad. They won't believe you!
18.3 - Make a note of that in your copy books NOW.
All sorts of things have happened this week, but every time I sit down to type stuff into Notepad for this bloody waste of space site, I can never remember any of it. This just doesn't perforate the proverbial mustard as far as I'm concerned, hence I deserve a short, sharp slap on the wrists with a huge cane.
Here's what I do remember from this week, however.
» My new music software penchant is Cakewalk Sonar 5 Producer's Edition, available in all good music stores now. I want it. In the mouth.
» My new favourite comedy is spoof 70s OU-esque science documentary series Look Around You, featuring none other than the inimitable, unimitatable, quite-difficult-to-imitate Peter Serafinowicz. I also want this. In the mouth.
» My new favourite suckling material is Fox's Glacier Fruits. I want lots and lots and lots of these in the mouth.
» My new favourite bedtime is 1:30am. Don't think for a second I want this in the mouth, because not only is that impossible... it is also VERY DISGUSTING.
I am most grateful to you, the general public, for reading. Thanks, public! "Thublic."
15.3 - Phosphoric acid.
Do not be fooled! Diet Coke with Cherry is NOT Dr. Pepper! It is, in fact, Diet Coke... but with a thoughtful faux cherry-flavour sludgy aftertaste. I would gladly express my disgust through the medium of dance, so I shall! Another time.
13.3 - I got a halo round my head.
What kind of girl spends her birthday ringing up her ex-boyfriend? GOOD LIFE.
Only a week to go until my dix-huitième, on that note.
SUBLIMINAL MESSAGE: SHOWER ME WITH GIFTS.
12.3 - The drugs don't work.
Filesharing is the new cannabis!
It's really popular with the under 25s, and then, because it's so completely *fun*, a law gets passed to banish it and send it underground. It's like forty years ago, only forty years in the future. Woooo.
Do you like babies? I like babies. I haven't made any of my own yet, but I still like them. There's something so deeply moving, deeply cute, but so deeply Satanic about a baby's laugh. Watch four of them simultaneously right here.
9.3 - What if I lose my card or it's stolen?
Ingredients: Noodles (92%) (Wheat Flour; Vegetable Oil; Modified Tapioca Starch; Water; Salt; Sugar; Stabiliser; Guar Gum; Garlic Powder), Seasoning (7%) (Salt; Chicken Extract; Yeast Extract; Sugar; Onion Powder; Garlic Powder; Ground Ginger; Turmeric; White Pepper; Dried Coriander; Dried Wakame).
Nutrition: 82kcal, 2.1g Protein, 13.5g Carb, 2.2g Fat, 0.6g Fibre, 0.4g Sodium.
So now you know.
Tomorrow is A2 module results day. Unlike every other educational establishment in the country, who got all their results today, we get to wait an extra 24 hours just because incompetence is 'fun' and 'cool' at my school. And indeed, we are hoping for a positive result, because one doesn't fancy the concept of slogging one's guts out much more than can be helped.
Why do I weigh nine stone? Why is that just and fair to people who starve themselves and remain clinically obese? Perhaps I should think of something to write about other than junk food. Or perhaps not! This cliffhanger will be resolved tomorrow.
8.3 - Living off nothing.
If you ate 3 packets of 8p noodles a day for a whole year, it'd cost £87.60. We figure this is the minimum expenditure on food required to survive. (Disregarding inevitable kwashiorkor here.)
Factor in Lilt, Dr. Pep, stinky burgers, rice and pea, Maoam and Jaffa Cakes, however, and we're talking a totally different story. Can you see how much I can't wait for University yet?
I don't like Music coursework. In fact, I've hired a muscular, half-naked man to beat it with a sledge hammer until it gives up.
Hopefully pretty bloody soon, too, because it's looming over me like a black cloud and it'll take more than just a deadline to make me do it, unfortunately. I have a lot of other things to be doing. I am a very busy man. Just look at me! (Don't, I get shy easily.)
4.3 - Check it out!
» The Simpsons as a live action sitcom?
3.3 - Three things you will never say to me again.
1. "There's simply not enough hours in the day." Stop your whinging and take Modafinil - a hot new stimulant drug described in the press as a 'wakefulness promoting agent' (read: dope), reported in one study to have kept two fighter pilots alert with only 8 hours of sleep in an 88 hour period. That's two hours of sleep a day. Not enough hours for you? Sod off and die, then.
2. "Hey, Tim, can you help me find stuff about the Roman invasion of..." For Christ's sake, you woman. Wikipedia. Wikipedia is your homework-doer. Am I the mediator of your homework's completion? No. Wikipedia IS your homework's completion. In Soviet Russia, homework does you. Congratulations on your 1,000,000th article, by the way, Wikipedia. "Milestonial."
3. "Wow, this game is very addicting!" No, no, no! NO! It's 'addictive', not 'addicting'! The verb 'to addict' does not exist in any form other than in the passive. A game cannot 'addict you'. It can only cause you to be addicted. GOD. What in the name of all that is short and beardy were you thinking?!
Google define: ADDICTIVE - lots of definitions, there
Google define: ADDICTING - fewer definitions than your mum
I'm glad we've cleared this up here today.
In other news: we're all out of Lilt, so death this weekend is quite, quite inevitable.
1.3 - Fix or no fix?
There's been some controversial speculation flying about that Kenneth Branagh-fronted cult teatime hit Noel or No Noel is actually lying when it claims to the viewer that it is, in fact, random. Some people noticed various sequences occurring once too often amidst the fracas of all that thrilling, thrilling box opening.
In our annoyance, we've decided that it was about time we said something about the music on this show. For the benefit of those who've just joined us, you may be interested to know that last summer, we very half-heartedly tried to 'be' the composer for this show. We were not successful, and neither were we particularly happy with what they actually used instead.
They're about 100 episodes in now, and it doesn't look like it'll get changed in the near-foreseeable future. However, they'll probably be shifting it into primetime. So, I've decided to beef up the original tracks in anticipative advance of this event, and stick them all here. These may or may not be noticed, although this site is more noticed than it used to be, so we'll see.
» Intro (1:47)
» Open box (0:07)
» Box ambience (1:32)
» Banker (0:55)