Valentines can't buy her

What not to get a loved one today.

Love Minus Zero / No Limit

Flashing for the refugees on the unarmed road of flight

Many people have been blogging about this new TV series (well, new in the UK) called Flight of the Conchords. It's an HBO comedy that is set in New York where two aspiring rock and roll stars (who also happen to be from New Zealand) are trying to get somewhere with their music. It's very Curb Your Enthusiasm, although the difference comes with the songs which are parodies (obviously). They break into song in the episodes. And these songs are truly funny. They take the piss out of artists, genres and themselves in such a brilliant manner.

Here are a couple of the best, youtube even has full episodes which you can watch (until HBO taken 'em down):

"I can't believe, that i'm sharing a kebab with the most beautiful girl I have ever seen with a kebab"




"I rap about reality like me and my grandma drinking a cup of tea"



In other me news. The gig night went very well, thank you. Some great bands on stage. I've also written a review of Manu Chao's new record, La Radionlina.

Chimes of Freedom.

Princess on the steeple and all the pretty people

This is kind of my bootleg series. Something I wrote but which hasn't be published. But I'm doing it here. It's my review of the Concert for Diana which I wrote in real time in the Summer. I think it's quite funny to be honest.... Let me know what you think, perhaps this takes you back. Christ that concert was shit.

Quite possibly the worst idea for a concert ever - the Princess Diana concert has been organised to...well I don't really know why. It all seems like an attempt to keep the memory of Diana alive and we all know how much the English people love this kind of thing, allows us to wallow in some kind of national moment of melancholy, happiness and respect. Happy Birthday to Lady Di who would have been 46 this year.

Although this will be published after the event, I am writing this in real time. I know that many regular readers will be interested in how this event went, but were probably busy mowing the lawn. No fear, Rockbeatstone is on hand to give you the complete low-down. Please read on as I go through all of the acts and comment on the sycophantic and disgusting TV coverage. This is very much a real-time blog affair, I'll be writing my comments down as they come into my mind.

Pre-concert
The interviewer woman in the stadium to a couple who are all dressed up in Union Jack costumes. "Who do you want to see?""Elton John. But otherwise I'm most excited about seeing William and Harry"

Jamie Theakston has just described Supertramp as "sophisticated". He's going through all the music Diana loved, apparently ‘Lady in Red' was her favourite song. "As a child Diana also loved to dance and in 1976 won her school dancing competition", whittles Jamie, trying to justify the idea behind the concert. Like who gives a flying fuck?

Now Andrew Marr, ex-senior political correspondent with the BBC and former editor of the Independent is being interviewed for some reason. Has the entire BBC gone mad? He's most looking forward to seeing Status Quo and Lily Allen. "Lilly is a big favourite of mine". Hmmmm...

"The eyes of the world are on Wembley Stadium", says Theakston. Hang on a minute Jamie, I think you're overstating how much people in Africa, Asia and South America give a shit. I'm sure the people of the refugee camps in Darfur are tuned in though. A kind of real life tragedy that Diana may have highlighted had she been alive.

4pm - Elton, James Morrison and Lily Allen
Elton's on the stage. 1st act and he's doing ‘Song for You'. First reaction to Wembley Stadium - loads of empty seats. Maybe it's not only the rest of the world who doesn't give a flying toss. He's now introducing the event and has brought on HRH Prince William and Prince Harry. They're now introducing the concert. "This evening is all about what my mother loved in life". Polite applause from the crowd. Harry gets vaguely political by saying hello to his squaddie mates in Iraq. "We want you to have an awesome time," says Willy. Somehow the ‘awesome' sounds completely forced as if he never uses the word in real life.

Duran Duran are now on the stage. ‘Sunrise' (I think that's what it's called). Surprisingly rocking. Maybe I've already watched too much of this event, time for a cigarette I think. ‘Wild Boyz' sees them shout dementedly on the stage. TV cameras show Harry and Willy in the royal box. Harry's girlfriend Chelsey (whose dad allegedly has business interests in Zimbabwe) is dressed up like a footballers wife. ‘Her Name is Rio' dedicated to the memory of this country's favourite Princess, Margaret, sorry Diana. Got confused for a minute. An over-weight 50 year old man is dancing with his hag of a wife in the front row. There's a lovely synthesiser solo in the middle and then some saxophone. How very Thatcherite.

James Morrisson is now on stage. This requires no further comment. He sings like a girl though. Cue photos of probably deeply dissatisfied 30 year-old somethings who can't remember all the words but still feel the need to sing along. And yes, there they are.

Sienna Miller and Dennis Hopper are now presenting the next act. Dennis looks like a midget. He seems to have come a long way since his days as the LSD fuelled actor in Easy Rider. He's wearing an olive tie with a sky blue suit jacket. They are presenting Lily Allen. Andrew Marr is probably sporting a massive bonk-on right now. Prince Willy is clapping out of tune - he obviously didn't inherit Diana's musical and dancing talents. Lily is wearing a short dress and high-heels. Very different from when she was snapped at Glastonbury dressed as a mushroom in the early hours of the morn with Alex Turner from the Arctic Monkeys on a drink and drugs inspired binge a few days ago.

Luton Indoor Bowling Club is now the next charity featured in the mini-videos which are played between acts . Fergie from Black Eyed Peas is now on stage doing her thing. I think it would be funny if the cameras showed Beatrice and whatever the other is called, because Fergie is their mum. Not the one on stage, the ginger one who makes loads of dosh in the USA. The crowd seem completely bemused as to what is happening. Which is understandable as most of them are 40 or 50 something white women.

5pm - The Feeling, NERD and Nelly Furtado
I'm already thinking that this is a bad idea. But now I've started, I need to finish.
"Please show the necessary awe" says the voice over. What the fuck? Oh no, it's OK, it's for Keefer Sutherland, so I can agree with that. He looks a bit pissed - Rock n Roll, Keefer. He's introducing The Feeling, who he's seen twice apparently. I can't stand the Feeling. Absolute rubbish. Indie music for people who don't like music. Time to make a cup of tea methinks.
NERD is now on stage. Farrell's now asking Wembley and Great Britain to stand up for peace. Some crazy-beats are now starting, lots of hip-hop ramblings. This is most ridiculous. Would Diana approve? I can't think that Prince Charles would, so she most probably would. Still the wrong act for this kind of crowd, I think. "She's seeexy", sings Farrell. Is he talking about Diana? "Her ass is a spaceship that I'd like to ride", continues NERD. I still like to think he's singing about Diana.

Bill Clinton is giving his thoughts on Diana's work on HIV and land mine charities. Fair enough.
Simon Cowell and some people are on stage. People are booing him. Maybe the crowd isn't as stupid as I thought. Nelly Furtado is doing her thing. She looks pretty hot in a pink dress it has to be said. However, probably best enjoyed with the sound on the TV turned off. Princes Harry and Willy are both strutting their stuff in the royal box. Seems like the Magners has been flowing freely up-there. They can't dance at all.

There's now some ballet being done on stage. Apparently the ENO doing Diana's favourite ballet, Swan Lake. I'm officially bored now. I've just checked the TV guide and this goes on until 10.30 in the evening. I think this was a mistake - I suppose I only have myself to blame seeing as I should have checked before hand.

6pm - Status Quo, Supertramp (nearly) and Joss Stone
Will Young is wearing a bright pink t-shirt and bopping along to Abba while Ferne Cotton interviews him. He loved Diana's style. "And style goes with character", says Will Young. So there you have it. The bright-pink t-shirt wearing X-factor winner has spoken.
After a long break, Status Quo have joined the stage. ‘Rockin' all over the world'. Predictable. They now look like old men as opposed to the middle aged men who started Live Aid all those years ago. Still, probably the best thing so far, which says a lot about the quality of the music on stage.

They've ran out of charities, so they are showing a video of Diana and her kids at Thorpe Park. We're now descending into home video territory.

Dennis Hopper is back to introduce Joss Stone. She's warbling and warbling, closing her eyes and sounding like a poppy-Janis Joplin. All the while, I'm getting ever closer to breaking point. She's spending lots of her time looking at the band and not out into the crowd. Polite applause for Joss from the crowd who also seem a little tired of this now.

Now we have Supertramp. Rather Roger Hodgson from Supertramp. Sophisticated it certainly is. ‘Dreamer'. Now this is a good song. Shame about the solo synth interpretation of it. Couldn't he get his band mates together for this? It would have been the greatest thing of the night. By Far. But he didn't and we're stuck with nearly but not quite Supertramp. A medley of songs from Hodgson, his singing is out of range and to be frank, absolutely pitiful. He's now on guitar and speaking and speaking and speaking and won't stop. It's worse than a Bono rant. ‘Give a Little Bit' is accompanied by the whole stadium singing and clapping. At least he's got the punters out of their seats. Still some glaring red empty sections though.

Orson is on next. They look like they do too many drugs. Beforehand, Ferne Cotton told us how great the day is. I'm getting bored of the BBC telling us what a great day it is every three minutes. As if we're not sure, but the fact that Ferne Cotton and Jamie Theakston keep telling us its great will convince us that it is. Orson are predictably forgettable.

7pm - Tom Jones, Bryan Ferry and Tony Blair
Pre-recorded interview with Fergie. Apparently her set wanted to encapsulate the "inner and outer beauty" of Diana. Funny all I saw was a crock of shite. 500 million people are supposed to be watching this. Poor us. They're now interviewing Sienna Miller. She's hot.

Tom Jones is now on stage. He's old. Plastic surgery still looking good though. He's now playing a song by the Arctic Monkeys of all people. ‘I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor' is destroyed. I wonder if Alex Turner is one of the 500 million people watching? I hope for his sanity's sake he isn't. You have to hear him sing, "From 1984". Truly ridiculous (I've used that word a lot haven't I?). Joss Stone is out for another one, she's duetting with Tom Jones. She's dressed like she was at the Brits. Still no damn shoes. Stupid god damn hippy.

Will Young is out on stage dressed in a white suit and so are his dancers. They are doing some silly dance. Is it just me or does the crowd sound completely subdued. There was hardly any applause after TJ & JS? Still I guess it will be forgotten as the BBC ram the "electric atmosphere" myth down our throats. Natasha Bedingfield is now out on the stage, the voice over tells me that her song, ‘Unwritten' was the most played song on US radio last year. She must be absolutely minted. I'm not sure I've heard this song at all.

Boris Becker & John McEnroe are over from Wimbledon. Boris Becker still sounds like a German porn-star. They're introducing Bryan Ferry. He's playing one of his songs. Thank god he's not butchering Dylan as he has done on his recent Dylan covers album. Oh no! I spoke too soon. ‘Make You Feel My Love' is next. STOP IT NOW, BRYAN. Thankfully he redeems himself slightly with ‘Stick Together'. Brilliant song and very up-tempo. Nice one Bryan, but stick to your own songs please. Nobody Sings Dylan like Dylan after all.

Tony cunting Blair is now speaking about Diana. Go away and leave us alone, you're no longer Prime Minister. Go away. God, that has made me even more rageous.

My levels of rage are not going to be lowered by the next band. A medley of Andrew Lloyd Webber musical songs. I'm off for a moment, this is getting all a bit too much for me. Might put my dinner on to be honest. Webber is being interviewed and still looks like a pug-faced midget. Still he's better than Tony Blair. But only ever-so-slightly. Over on BBC 2 they have the Hampton Court Flower Show, so the BBC is really hitting the Daily Mail target audience this evening.

8pm - Rod Stewart, Kanye West
P. Diddy is being interviewed by Ferne. He's saying how much Diana meant to him and that it's an honour to play for her. David Beckham is now being interviewed. Apparently he's close friends with Diddy. Beckham is so dull, I'm so glad he no longer is England Captain so we don't have to hear him whittle on for hours. He's also saying something about the Spice Girls reuniting, but I've entered some kind of momentary coma.

Rod Stewart is being introduced by Keefer Sutherland who is going on about his mate Ray who he met in a pub in Wembley down the street. Keefer's obviously got more sense than to stay in the stadium to witness this bullshit. ‘Maggie Mae' is as brilliant as one would expect. Stewart's best song. The whole royal box is swaying for this one. A crowd favourite and probably the best reception for an artist yet. ‘We are Sailing' becomes one of those lighters in the air moments, although smoking is now prohibited in England, so there's very little of that.

Theakston describes today as an all you can eat buffet of music, dance and entertainment. What you mean one of those cheap Chinese buffets that leave you bloated and give you food poisoning?

Kanye West is now running all over the stage with some truly bizarre sunglasses. Some large white monstrosity of a pair. ‘Golddigger'. Another song for Diana? Lots of shouting, can't really make out what he's saying. Maybe I'm getting too old for this hip-hop. I don't think I'll ever really get it. Oh well, my loss. The shots of the crowd are absolutely hilarious. Loads of ageing, over-weight women trying to strut their stuff, not realising that 500 million people are laughing at their "moves".

9pm - P Diddy, Take That, my mind switching off
P. Diddy brings the rap section of this concert to a close. Dressed all in white he' wearing sunglasses despite the fact that the sun has long started to go down. Lots of shouting by Diddy. "Makes some noise for Princess Diana, yo'all...We miss you... we love you... Years ago Princess Diana went to a better place, today we celebrate her rebirth" This is the speech by Diddy. But what the hell has happened? Will Diana return and be reborn live on stage tonight? Now that would be a great feat and certainly a great show closer.

Christ he's at it again..."Princess Diana was our Princess, Diana we miss You, Come on yo'all, make some noise". It's just all a little bit too American for this British crowd. "I love you, we miss you, Prince William, Prince Harry we love you". It's never ending. He is now getting everyone to wave to the heavens to say hello to Diana. For fucks sake. This is absolutely terrible. Probably the worst thing at an event like this since Mariah Carey had all those kids on stage at Live8.

David Beckham is now on stage and he is truly honoured to be here. Apparently. Funny how no one goes on stage to say that this is all a little bit shit. He's now banging on about Take That who he's introducing. I'm not even going to watch this bit.

Ricky Gervais is now on-stage and he's doing the Diana death song from the Office. Elton John is spending ages and he had to fill in with some stuff. Good job Ricky Gervais is naturally funny. He ended up doing the David Brent dance and Bowie's ‘Pug-Nosed Face' song from Extras.

10pm - Elton John
There's no other way this concert could have ended really. The fact that he sang at the funeral gives him automatic dibs on the final place. Elton is now on stage doing his thing. ‘Saturday Night', ‘Tiny Dancer' and some other ones - I'm not really a fan, so I don't know. He does really looks like he's enjoyed the high life throughout his years though - what a fat neck.

Speech by Willy and Harry. Mothers charities, yada yada yada. Just get on with ‘Candle in the Wind' and we can all go home and be done with this. Oh no! Some more videos. Nelson Mandela is banging on about Diana (really, who is the real hero here?) Crap, some home video footage about her life. What a load of tosh.

No ‘Candle in the Wind'. I guess that's for the best seeing as it would descend into morbid tears. Wembley is lit up and it is all over. Time to go home Wembley and for me to switch off.

Conclusion
I'm sorry Rockbeatstone readers, but this is probably the last time that I'll try and do something like this again. I thought I could take six hours of mediocre music which would be on rotation on BBC Radio Two but I just couldn't. I think I'm now going to put on a Neil Young DVD, try and get my grip back on reality. What this concert does prove is what awful taste in music the majority of the UK population have. It really drained my physically and mentally. The Princess Diana concert is symbolic of all that's wrong with the UK royal family. Bloated, with ageing stars and very few highlights and on the BBC. Thank God we don't need to organise another one for a while yet.

Like a Rolling Stone

See the cross-eyed pirates sitting

Something that crossed my mind. Last week it was 'International Talk Like a Pirate Day'.

This week Gabrielle is plugging her new song.

Coincidence? I think not.


Read my review of Johnny Flynn's gig at the Royal Albert Hall. Pukka.

Farewell Angelina

And you thinks it's funny

Got these sent to me by a mate, I have no idea where they came from. They made me laugh though!




Lasty Thoughts on Woody Guthrie

He's got his mother's eyes

Another YouTube classic! I love YouTube!



Lord, Protect My Child

All the friends I ever had are gone

Adam and Joe did some of the best comedy on British television in the 1990s. Their show was famous for using toys to parody famous films and TV programmes. Find below the video of their parody of 'Friends', called 'Furrends'.

Enjoy!



Delia

When they tried to strangle Larry...

I don’t know why I love Curb Your Enthusiasm so much. It’s probably because it makes me laugh…but that’s the simple answer. I guess I like it because the protagonist (Larry David) plays an extreme version of himself. A man who questions everything, who hates being in the wrong and who ponders about the little things in life. Just like Seinfeld (the previous show he worked on), it’s a show about “nothing”. I also love it because the script is about 10 pages long per episode and most of the dialogue is improvised. In Curb, Larry asks important questions, such as is it only black muslims who ware bow ties? Why is it alright to say ‘fuck’ or ‘dick’ but not ‘cunt’? Why can’t you congratulate a father on the size of his son’s manhood?

I guess somewhere deep inside of me, I want to be that person. Here’s a quote and the clip from my favourite episode. Larry scores pitchside seats for basketball and manages to ingure Shaquille O’Neil. All of Los Angeles hates him, but his life changes for the better and everything works out fine for him. In this clip he goes to Starbucks and mocks their pretentious coffee. Brilliant stuff.

Larry: “What's in this latte?”
Starbucks employee: “Milk and coffee”
Larry: “Oh my God. Milk and coffee. I never would have thought of that. That's so brilliant”.
Larry: “I'll have a vanilla... one of those vanilla bullshit things. You know, whatever you want, some vanilla bullshit latte cappa thing. Whatever you got.”

Joey

You went to the finest school alright

On a nostaligia trip, I looked at my school’s website. For those of you who don’t know me personally, you must know that I went to an International School in the South of France: Le Centre Internationale de Valbonne. I did a normal French education with extra classes in English and then went onto do the International Baccalureat in my final two years which consisted of classes mainly in English.

It was nice, set in the hills of a technological business park called Sophia Antipolis. There was forest all around. It was in the south of France, on the Riveria, near Antibes which had over 300 days a year of sunshine. So I guess I was lucky. Although it is shit to be a teenager, wherever you live.


They have a section on the website detailing the typical day of a border. Now I was a border for a year while my parents moved to Belgium. They felt, and I agreed with them, that changing school in my final year was pointless and would cause me difficulties. So I became a border for my final year at the school.

The typical day as described by the website:

6.45am – Wake-up and breakfast.
8am to 12pm – Lessons.
12pm-1pm – Lunch.
1pm – 5pm – Lessons.
5pm – Gouter (or snack in English).
5.30pm to 6pm – Study hour or activities.
7pm – 8pm – Dinner.
8pm – Study in your room.
9.30pm to 10.30pm – lights out.


Here’s what really happened on our typical day:

7.15am – The guy looking after us comes around once to wake us up by knocking on the door and letting himself in. I roll over and go back to sleep.
7.50am – Wake up, frantically put clothes on and get bag ready.
8.10am – Arrive in class ten minutes late.
11.00am – Class cancelled because of strike and/or absence by teacher (this is the South of France remember).
Shun lunch in the cafeteria which was absolutely foul – not all French cuisine is superb, remember. Go to the local shop and buy a sandwich and crate of beer to share with friends.
14pm – Go back to class, quite often drunk. Sleep in the back of the class and write down one thing – get notes from the spod at the front who is copiously taking down everything the teacher is saying.
16pm – Skive off the last hour because I can’t be bothered. Miss the gouter which consists appetisingly of stale bread left over from breakfast and cheap chocolate.
5.30pm – Say hello to the guy looking after us. Go to mate's room and play computer games.
7pm. – Go to dinner and eat another pile of crap. God it was awful and is making my stomach turn just thinking about it.
8pm. – Sit at desk waiting for guy to come around to check on us, listening to football on the radio and/or music.
9.30pm until 2am – Wait for the guy to come around in the evening. Sneak out and go to mate's room for more booze and computer games.
2am – Sneak back without getting caught by security guards passing by another three people’s rooms to see what they’re up to.

And at the weekend it was even better.
Saturday - Get up. Drink. Visit girls' dorms. Get thrown out. Go to bed.
Sunday – Get up. Drink. Watch football in the bar or visit girls' dorms again. Go to Bed.

But I enjoyed my short time at boarding school. I was old enough to realise that it had its benefits. In many ways it was as if I had been to university a year earlier. It certainly helped me adjust to the student lifestyle very quickly, and I didn’t look as much of a tit when compared to those people who had never been let out of the house on their own and who got hideously drunk after two Smirnoff Ices on Freshers Week.

So the lesson here is parents: never believe what a school tells you. The truth is always going to be far different.

Like a Rolling Stone

Stayin' in a big hotel

Hell is waking up hungover in a hotel room after drinking copious amounts of alcohol. At 5am. When you’ve got to be up in a couple of hours. For an important meeting.

With an unquenchable thirst due to sleeping in an air conditioned room, I stumble and fumble my way toward the en-suite bathroom, cursing the decision to leave the light off (why didn’t I just flip the switch?). I came to what I thought was the entrance, stubbed my toe into the skirting board and banged my knee against the doorframe.

Hobbling into the bathroom, I catch a glimpse of my face in the mirror, and nearly die of shock, realising that I do indeed look like the living dead. Blood shot eyes and the deep black bags around them only remind me of last night’s excesses. Eventually large gulps of water relieve the thirst, once I’ve realised how to get the tap water to come out cold. Which takes me about five minutes in this luxury bathroom.

It’s time to get into bed, but now I’m awake in a foreign bed, in a foreign hotel room. I can’t sleep and all I can think about is tomorrow morning’s (well this morning's, really) meeting and the reason why I’m in a hotel room in the first place. Of course it feels like hours since I woke-up but it’s probably only been about five minutes.

I wake up a few hours later, after sporadic short naps. The bed was almost too comfortable for me and my middle class ways, perhaps next time they should put me up in a hotel more attuned to my style of living. I kept feeling like a phoney for having a massive double bed, thousands of pillows and a proper duvet.

The hangover is now in full-on mode reaching it’s peak and pounding my brain like an American soldier a detainee in Guantanamo Bay. I stumble into the shower, spend far too long in there, then get out. The room is silent, and I decide to turn on the TV. Desperately still trying to sober up before this morning’s meeting, I drink copious amounts of tea, coffee and water and whatever else is in the complimentary basket.

Out comes BBC Breakfast news, the headline story is about how the government want to encourage schools to organise trips for their pupils. All I can think about is my headache and the fact that there is civil war in Iraq and Russian spies (allegedly) roaming the streets executing the Kremlin’s unwanted, yet the BBC bypassed these stories to focus on kids trips and included a live link-up to a group of 12 year olds going out canoeing. Breaking news indeed.

They should have recreated a school trip gone wrong, now that would indeed be news: "The kids screamed as they plunged hundreds of feet to their death after the bus driver, drunk on Absinthe and who was being pleasured by their teacher at the time, careered off the mountain pass. All 80 children, the bus driver, and an illegal immigrant who crept into the luggage hold are dead. Back to you in the studio Dick."

So the only thing left to do is to put the channel on one of the hotel’s pre-set radio stations. The trouble is that the only one that is working is BBC Radio Two, Britain’s most popular radio station. Popular almost always = annoying, brainless and dull. And BBC Radio Two is no exception. The breakfast presenter is a certain Terry Wogan, but before I get his pleasantries, I get a the joys of Emma Bunton’s (previously known as Baby Spice) version of ‘Downtown’. And it’s fucking pitiful. Terry Wogan then cracks some piss-poor jokes and starts reading out listener's lymrics and poems. I felt the violent urge to go round to the BBC straight away to slap the four hundred year old presenter senseless. Other musical joys of this wise and sage DJ include ‘That’s the Way I like it’ by Casey & the Sunshine Band, and ‘Club at the End of the Street’ by Elton John. My tether is nearly at an end, and I almost burst into tears at the horror.

Regaining composure, I decide to iron my shirt, which has, of course, become crumpled in my bag on the way to this regional UK city. Thankfully, the good people at the hotel have thought of everything and provided me with an iron and board. However, after I’ve set it all up, it spits hot water at me, I rush to the ensuite to get some cold water on my hands, and trip over the ironing board and send the iron flying, when it lands it starts to slowly burn a hole in the carpet. It’s at this moment that Linda Rondstadt comes over the radio with ‘Do What You Gotta Do’ singing those very words and I feel like shouting ‘I AM TRYING TO, YOU STUPID COW’. I feel like I’m living my very own ‘Fear and Lothing’ moment.

Of course, I eventually made myself presentable, wondered downstairs, checked-out. The meeting went fine and the trip home is a breeze. And by the evening I was begining to wonder what all the fuss was about. But in those short few hours from 5am to 9am, the whole world was crumbling around me and I wondered how on earth I was going to get away with it.

Note to self: contact large international hotel chain proposing a new drunk-proof room.

Went to see the Gypsy

About the TV, God and all the pain that it invokes

Family Guy is one of the best cartoons out there. It takes the piss out of almost any subject matter - many find this offensive I find it hilarious. It features, among other characters, a talking dog and a baby who is hell-bent on world domination and a little camp at the same time. Here's them taking the michael out of Zinedine Zidane. Just click the play button in the middle.



I've also written a review of the Fratelli's album, Costello Music. I didn't like it very much. Thanks to whoever uploaded that clip from Family Guy Season 6, which isn't out in Europe yet.

TV Talkin' Song

In the bathroom

Apparently, according to this BBC News report around 4 million Brits have a phobia of toilets. It was this story that sparked an amazing tale of life in the 21st century.

A female friend of one of my workmates who is American went to meet her then boyfriend’s parents for the first time (now they are engaged). She was very nervous and asked where the ‘bathroom’ was. Being American, she of course meant ‘toilet’, but the parents thought she meant the bathroom (as in the room where the bath is).

Of course she goes up and there’s no toilet, but is too embarrassed to go back downstairs to ask where the lavatory is, so decides to pee in the sink. As she climbs to the sink, dropping her trousers and underwear, the sink comes away from the wall and she falls and knocks herself unconscious on the bath.

The family then hear this enormous noise and have to knock the door to the bathroom down only to find this young American girl sprawled on the floor unconscious with her knickers and trousers around her ankles and broken china from the sink covered in piss.

But this embarrassing episode didn't stop them getting engaged, I wonder if this story will come up in the speeches during the wedding?

Talkin' Bear Mountain Picnic Massacre Blues

Forty-one years to wear the ball and the stripes

I can't seem to embedd this video for some reason. But this is well worth a look if you are a fan of the White Stripes and/or the Simpsons. Check out the video.

Little Sadie

There was a movie I seen one time, I think I sat through it twice

A guy posted this on a internet message board that I frequent. The topic was about the funniest scenes in film. I really want to see this now. It made me spit out my tea at the computer screen. It is from a Woody Allan Film, where he's chatting up a girl at an art gallery.

Allan: That's quite a lovely Jackson Pollack, isn't it?

Girl: Yes, it is.

Allan: What does it say to you?

Girl: It restates the negativeness of the universe. The hideous lonely emptiness of existence. Nothingness. The predicament of Man forced to live in a barren, Godless eternity like a tiny flame flickering in an immense void with nothing but waste, horror and degradation, forming a useless bleak straitjacket in a black absurd cosmos.

Allan: What are you doing Saturday night?

Girl: Committing suicide.

Allan: What about Friday night?


Brownsville Girl