Sunday, 29 November 2009

dogs playing cards

Melyssa Ford - number 1.

I got the above text the other day. Shrapnel from my favourite debate: Top Ten Hottest Celebrity Chicks in the Known Universe. Everyone's an expert. That's why it's so popular. No pearls. No swine. Actually, every man is an expert (give or take in the obvious places). I mean, we're happy to let the ladies have their say but it's a bit like my two year old cousin thinking he's playing xbox but not knowing his controller is unplugged.

Think about it. If you don't lust after human females and you put your opinion forward are you really talking about the same thing as a guy who says, matter-of-factly, "I'd give her the full clip. No Long."? I know what he's talking about as surely as I know water's wet but I'm really not sure what is meant when I hear it said, from the ranks of the gyal dem, that "Charlize Theron is really pretty". It's probably something like me looking at a Lamborghini Murcialago and judging it as aesthetically pleasing. It's not the same. Sorry, luv. You're not contributing any empirically relevant data. Have you checked your controller?

I can even feel something isn't right in the way it's said. Pretty? That adjective just can't carry the kind of emotional payload demanded (plus you picked Charlize - we don't believe you, you need more people). I think an example from the text message archives can illustrate:

Cheryl Cole is proper peng.

Mrs Washington is fire and so is her girlfriend.

(Where 'girlfriend' is none other than Dania Ramirez, who is indeed fire and currently assailing the long standing inhabitants of many a top ten list.)

See. Warm blooded authenticity.

So while I'm genuinely fascinated by the depths of human diversity when I hear criminalities like "Tia and Tamara are hotter than Jessica Alba. Jessica doesn't even make the Premiership"(Football metaphors are commonplace), when I hear crimes of similar severity coming from the mouths of the unqualified I'm unmoved. Jack in.

By the way. Jada wins the World Cup... Back to back. She wins it back to back.

Friday, 27 November 2009

it's a Blighty ting

First Sea Lord - professional head of the Royal Navy and the whole Naval Service.

Easily the best sounding job title ever conceived. When they coined the term "It has a ring to it", they were talking about this job title. Fact.

Thursday, 12 November 2009

you're 'avin' a laugh, mate

The fire alarm went off today...

Rule 4: Do not stop to collect personal belongings.


Sunday, 1 November 2009

you can't escape the rate

He: What's that?

Me: DJ Hero.

He: How much?

Me: A 1er.

He: 1er? You coulda put a score on top and copped some True Religion jeans.

Me: True Religion?

He: Oh my days! You don't know True Religion?

A blank stare is as useful as speech here.

He: They're sick. They'll make your poom-poom ratings go up. Just go up in Selfridges ask for the True Religion section. There are ones for all £400 but the 120s are still heavy.

Me: You've got the 400s?

He: Nah. The 250s. Check it out on my Facebook with the Gucci belt. One chick commented "Is that the Gucci belt? £150?"

Each to his own pathology.

Me: Was it?

He: What?! 'Course! The Gucci is sick... Seriously, the DJ Hero can only be making your poom-poom ratings go down.

'Poom-poom ratings' are probably only legal tender with certain females but that's academic because on a desert island they're definitely useless and that's what scratching, crossfading and rewiiiiiiinding your way to club land glory on DJ Hero for the whole weekend is - a desert island.

p.s. I stopped to watch an Episode of Lipstick Jungle (be about it) because riding the limits of human hand-eye co-ordination to death's door (damn you, Scratch Perverts) with the turntable peripheral is hard on the hands.