Tuesday, November 30, 2004
Can’t buy me love
Did anyone else ever wonder how Chris Evans got so wealthy so quickly?
I mean, one minute he was presenting a 2 hour Sunday afternoon slot on Radio 1 called ‘Too Much Gravy’ the next thing he was buying Virgin radio for about one hundred squillion dollars.
Okay, I understand that in between these events he did the Big Breakfast, then devised Don’t Forget Your Toothbrush and TFI Friday - but Michael Aspel has a relatively lengthy list of TV presenting jobs on his CV, but you don’t see him wandering around buying up PLC’s.
Whatever you think of Evans as a presenter on TV or radio, the reason he made so much money must be down to his tremendous business sense and his eye for a money spinner. So following the break-up of his marriage to Billie Piper it was no surprise to see Chris making a few bob out of the deal by selling his possessions and aiming for a fresh start.
However, it does pose the age-old question of whether or not money can buy you happiness. Most people when faced with the break-up of their marriage would surely take shelter amongst family and friends. Chris on the other hand, invited a News of the World journalist to photograph what he described as their ‘last ever moments as man and wife’. The ‘story’ made the front page of the paper on Sunday along with the headline:
‘Bye Bye Billie – sad Evans has last kiss with wife then opens his broken heart to the News of the World.’
Mr Evans I suspect, is only wealthy man in the monetary sense.
Sunday, November 28, 2004
EXTRA EXTRA! It’s my first ever exclusive!
Emma ‘Sickly Sweet Spice’ Bunton is the latest squeeze of Pop Idol moron Darius Danesh!
Yes folks for one post only I am going to assume the role of a tabloid journalist. Think of me as a 3am Girl or a Victoria Newton. I am going to be the heatmagazinest.
Because peeps, whilst I don't frequent the gossip columns on a daily basis - I do not believe this dirt I am dishing is common knowledge. (Actually, it might not even be true, but it comes from a celebrity source.)
On Saturday I went to the BBC ‘Good Food Show’ at the NEC. It was excellent (but then again show me a six-hour wine and cheese session which isn't excellent.) The highlight of my day was going a watch a live performance by Yorkshire ready-steady-cooker and all-round good egg James Martin.
James came across as a sound bloke. He's evidently a very talented chef and was a good laugh. I didn't even object (much) to the love hearts in my girlfriends eyes as she gazed longingly at the stage.
James proudly told the audience that he will be swapping his chef’s outfit for a pair of boxing gloves for the next BBC Sport Relief. (Past contestants have included Ricky Gervais and Sid Owen.) His opponent in the ring will be none other than Darius – who James reckons turned up for training with Emma Bunton on his arm.
Next week – remember to visit the Mighty Crumb where I'll be reporting from Runcorn on Geri Halliwell's world record attempt to shove 18 live stoats up her arse.
Friday, November 26, 2004
The Friday Fuckwit!
#24 Linda Smith
Repellent, Anti-humorous, Panel-show Fuckwit
If you don't know who this lady is - it's probably just as well.
Linda is a regular guest on Radio 4's News Quiz, Just A Minute and I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue, and her TV appearances include Have I Got News for You, They Think It's All Over & Call My Bluff.
She's a "comedian"
The term is being used in it's widest sense.
I found a description of Linda on the interweb that says that her comedy "Blends the topical with the personal and the political with the surreal and silly."
That's odd, because every time I've seen her, her comdey has "blended the shit with the shitter and the shitty with the shittier and shittiest."
An example of her 'talent' was demonstrated on BBC2's quiz 'QI' (in an episode broadcast several months after Hans Blix had turned Iraq upside down looking for WMD's) Linda interrupted host Stephen Fry to 'topically' pipe up "Can I just ask the audience to check under their chairs for any weapons of mass destruction? They don't seem to be able to find any anywhere else!"
See? Comic genius.
Wednesday, November 24, 2004
My mobile phone is dead.
My mobile phone used to have a little green light on it that flashed all day and all night as if to say "Look at me! I'm a phone, I'm a fucking phone and I'm alive! Yeah you look at me."
But I woke up the other day and to my horror it's little light had stopped flashing. It was totally unexpected. There had been no signs, there was no prior warning. I rushed it to the nearest charger and did all I could but it was too late, it was gone.
So I guess I'll never hear that little flashy voice again. It just lies there on the kitchen worktop, texting in peace.
So I'm back with my ex, a very camp, pale turquoise Nokia with a bad attitude. It's never going to last.
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
I don't make a habit of promoting charities here on TMC but this seemed to be a particularly good cause. I know it touched me personally.
Mute Tourettes Syndrome has long been in the shadow of its more
famous sister-disease, 'Tourettes Syndrome', and although much rarer, is even more tragic in its consequences.
While a child suffering from Tourettes has difficulty in containing its anger and frustration, a child with Mute Tourettes suffers the opposite fate, and is unable to express their true feelings.
There is, however, an answer. A great deal has been achieved by the Mute Tourettes Foundation using new art therapy techniques. However, their work can only continue with your help. Just £1.37p will keep a child supplied with crayons for a whole day. £5 will provide them with enough paper for a week.
Please give what you can to help this deserving cause.
Monday, November 22, 2004
I Drove All Night
Thanks to all those of you who came along to Coventry City Centre to watch the Crumb roadshow on Friday lunchtime. May I take this opportunity to assure you all that the performing badgers weren’t actually on fire…
It’s funny how something quite arduous can be made into something quite exciting if you just do it a little differently. Washing up for example, is far more enjoyable if you make targets out of the dinner plates and use a water pistol. So when I came to drive from Coventry to Cambridge, (a pretty boring journey along the M6 and A14) I spiced it up a little by not leaving Coventry until 11pm on Friday night.
I actually found this a little too dark, cold and eerie for my liking, the A14 cuts across some fairly lonely countryside and with nothing else on the road I was praying that my K reg Polo was going to last the distance. I have seen a few of these creepy TV shows which tell tales of ghosts who stand in the middle of certain highways late at night. I was half expecting to see Harry Secombe bounce off the windscreen.
To take my mind off the hoards of ghosts I took great pleasure in looking out for miserable truck drivers. You can always spot them – they’re the ones that don’t flash. I’m no long-distance Clara but I assume it’s an unwritten part of long-vehicle etiquette that when a truck overtakes another truck you see the overtakee flash their headlights to the overtaker to signal that they are clear to pull in front of them. So I reckon the non-flashers must be miserable gits. Or asleep.
But a quick note to those over-friendly drivers. I’m driving a Polo for Christ’s sake. It’s not even a ‘short vehicle’, it a ‘very short vehicle’. I can tell when I’m clear of you, there really is no need to flash me. You nearly gave me a heart attack.
Tuesday, November 16, 2004
the AWOL crumb
A post for my regular readers, other e-friends and anyone else who cares...
I would admit that a recurring trend throughout my first blogging year is that I tend to sod off for a week here and there without telling anyone. Clearly I am at it again.
Anyhow, for the few of you who are interested, I just wanted to explain myself. I haven't lost interest in my blog, or any of your blogs for that matter. In fact, I am itching to blog at the moment and have a list of future posts as long as Pinoccio's snotbox. However, time and internet access have been against me for the last week or two and now I am buggering off around the country for the next few days - specifically Coventry on Thursday and Friday, then Cambridge on Saturday and Sunday.
So there we go. I just wanted to let Blogsville know I'm alive, well and missing my e-life. There'll be no Fuckwit this Friday but I will return on Monday 22nd for banana milkshake and crayons.
Kum by ya
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
the home of carnival
So, the first post of my second blog year. I’d quite like to make it a good one but it will almost certainly be the usual bollocks.
As I’ve mentioned before, you could wrack your brains for many hours before finding anything particularly interesting to say about my home town Bridgwater. Due to the cellophane and bonded fibre production in the town it is known throughout the South West (and probably further afield) as the smelliest place on earth. (Labyrinth fans – think ‘Bog of Eternal Stench’) The town’s most famous resident is Grotbags the witch and it was voted one of the worst places to live in the UK by the Idler. Given it’s insignificance and it’s location, that is some feat.
However - I ought not to let this time of year pass by without mentioning the finest claim to fame of Bridgwater, it’s annual carnival. As you drive past the ‘Welcome to Historic Bridgwater’ sign it proudly states underneath ‘Home of Carnival’. Those of you who thought it was Rio or Notting Hill, think again.
Bridgwater’s carnival is the largest illuminated carnival in the world. Held on the Friday nearest to Guy Fawkes night - it is truly spectacular. Last Friday night an estimated 200000 people lined the streets to watch the procession which raised over thirty thousand pounds in collections alone.
I urge you to have a look at the official site here, or some excellent pictures over at Psychbloke’s. If you ever get the opportunity to attend make sure you take it. (but don’t visit any other time of year for Christ’s sake)
The highlight of this year's show was actually yours truly. Due to bad traffic on the way down from Bristol I didn't arrive in Bridgwater until 6.27pm, they were closing the roads into the town centre at 6.30pm. I sped through town in the nick time, with crowds lining each side of the road. The brilliant thing was that I am currently driving a silver BMW 1 Series that BMW have kindly lent me as a demonstrator for a month. There aren't very many on the road yet in this country. I was positively presidential - yeah baby.
Sunday, November 07, 2004
blowing out candles
In the words of Captain Edmund Blackadder:
"Well it started badly, it tailed off a little in the middle, and the less said about the end the better. But apart from that - excellent."
I think that pretty much sums up the first year of TMC! But cheers for reading, and you never know - I might even get around to writing somthing decent next year!
Friday, November 05, 2004
The Friday Fuckwit!
#23 Bill Griffin.
Confused, Revenue-Wasting, Eat My Shorts Fuckwit
So Mr Griffin, you are Head of Marketing for Channel 4? If I can just clarify - the Channel has won the rights to show repeats of the Simpsons?
No hold on, don't bother answering that, because clearly it has. The whole country knows the answer. Largely thanks to the fact that every single bloody commercial break on Channel 4 has a trailer for the show and every billboard from here to Timbuk-flaming-tu is plastered with their yellow mugs.
In that respect, the advertising campaign has been a roaring success.
The trouble is that you don’t need to advertise the Simpsons Mr Griffin. They are the most famous family in the entire universe. When ET wanted to “phone home” it was to check his mum had set the video to record the Simpsons. There are indigenous tribes in the hidden rainforests of Nunjunti who shout “D’oh!” as their spears narrowly miss grazing wilder beast.
Promote it a bit – that’s fine. But all you needed was the occasional trailer just to let people know it’s going to be on. Any genuine Simpsons fan will have seen every episode already. And if your Channel’s ‘Friends’ overkill is anything to go by it will be on 17 times a day for the next 10 years. People won’t be able to avoid it. And we all know that you will have exhausted the back catalogue and be re-running them by a week-next-Tuesday anyway. Lets not forget that BBC2 showed them for ages, it’s hardly an exclusive.
Instead of wasting all Channel 4's advertising revenue on re-advertising Springfield you could have started showing some good films on Channel 4 again (instead of sticking them all on Film Four.) You could have done the ‘Music Hall of Fame’ properly. Or if you were willing to really push the boat out you could have paid Sarah Beeny to present Property Ladder in the buff and arranged a firing squad for Vernon Kaye and June Sarpong.
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
It's a PIN
It's not a PIN number
'PIN' stands for 'personal identification number'
Therefore 'PIN number' would stand for 'personal identification number number'
Don't ever say it again.
It's a PIN
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
the nightie crumb
As an adult I have always opted for a boxer short/T-shirt combo for my night time sleepage attire. I am absolutely horrified to notice that it has become rather bloody cold of late. This has not been helped by the fact my new flat does not have central heating, we have these night-storage doofers. I have awoken more than once to find that the sub-zero temperature has trapped me under the duvet. I am too scared to venture even a toe outside of my cosy pit for fear that it might be bitten off by a passing walrus.
I have decided it is time to invest in some pyjamas.
I reckon I last owned a pair of pyjamas when I was about 14. At that time I probably didn't even know the word 'pyjamas'. I suspect they were referred to as 'jim-jams' Needless to say I have never bought a pair and haven't an inkling as to what the 'fashion' might be.
Can you give me a clue friends? How about these?
Monday, November 01, 2004
When you’re up you’re up, and when you’re down
- it’s shit
#1. I have started to see my dad a little bit more. I live in Bristol, he lives in Cambridge. He moved away many years ago and he now has a new life and a new family. To be honest we have drifted over the last few years. Not sure where the blame lies, or indeed whether there is any blame. Maybe it’s just the way of the world.
But my step sister recently started University in Bristol. Consequently my dad has been down this way a few times recently. It’s been really good to see him and having built a bridge my life does feel more rounded. I think the drifting has stopped.
#2. I run a little gambling syndicate in work. Nothing illegal you understand, nor even that interesting. But the Wednesday before last I won about £75 on it. This came in the middle of a rather good week money-wise. I learned that I had been given a substantial bonus for my work over the last 6 months, and I found a tenner on the floor in the pub.
#3. Coupled with my good fortune came the news that the slave-driving bastards for whom I toil have employed someone to work with me. Stress levels will reduce.
Life felt good.
#1. Last Friday due to an ‘administrative error’ HSBC put a stop on my bank card leaving me without any money over the weekend.
#2. Some fat wanker nicked a parking space for which I had been patiently waiting for about 5 minutes. I saw red. I got out of the car and gave him a piece of my mind (as did a few other people who had seen what he did) and a massive great ruck ensued, culminating in him threatening to “break my fucking neck”
#3. Last Tuesday my step sister dropped out of University.
Christ folks, I know there are worse things going on in the world. And those of you who would say that if these are the extent of my worries then I ought to "shut the feck up" would probably be quite right. But talk about ups and downs. Sheesh.