Written upon an ancient scroll and unearthed in the year 1509 by the assassin Ezio Auditore da Firenze in an attempt to better understand the secrets of the Assassin’s Creed and it’s brotherhood, this document appears in nature to be pertaining to the movements and activities of Ezio’s ancestor, the legendary master assassin Altaïr Ibn-La’Ahad, over a period of one week in the year 1187. The letter was translated and the text is as follows.
I generally just pick out the prettiest or most interesting looking girl in a bar, cautiously meander over to her, maybe swap eye contact once or twice and smile… And then I get out one of those scary mountaineering ice-pick things, and thrust it around in front of her face in terrifyingly fervent stabbing motion, and when she inevitably starts screaming something like “What are you doing!?”, I just say “Hey… Relax. I’m only trying to break the ice.”
Works every time.
When I was born, I was a baby. So were you. So was every other human that has ever existed. Last night, I was subjected to an agonising amount of ‘baby talk’ by several mothers who were flitting around the bar where I work. It was horrible. Listed below are some of the reasons why.
After seeing a news story regarding immigration…
IAN: We spend so much on immigration… Can’t they just go back where they came from?
FELIX: Well, maybe they come from a country that is impoverished or war-torn or without basic human rights…
IAN: That’s their fault…
FELIX: No, it’s not. It’s just the luck of where they happen to be born. An English politician once said something about how being born in England is like winning first prize in the lottery of life.
IAN: Who said that?
FELIX: He was a politician or a businessman or something.
IAN: Right… I know he’s dead but…
FELIX: You don’t know he’s dead…
IAN: Well, he needs escavatin’ and shoved back in a hole with a cap in his head.
Dear mister o’Shea.
This is youre bank, Lloyds or Barclays or whatever, and we are just popping a little email to you to let you know that theres been a bit of a cock-up with our computers and that, and we need to sort some stuff out with your bank account.
Okay… So my girlfriend and I just bought a new Mini, which was unsurprisingly, rather expensive for two people with no money whatsoever. In the panic of getting some cash out in time, I reached my withdrawal limit at 11:56PM on Monday and 12:04AM on Tuesday. Needless to say, HSBC Bank were suspicious.
Cut forward to Wednesday morning, and I wake up to a phone call. I sleepily grumble as I answer it, and am greeted by the voice of a middle-eastern gentleman miss-pronouncing my name. Now I am not racist by any definition of the word, but in my irritation at being awoken, I did hurriedly and erroneously assume that the foreign caller was about to sell me some useless phone deal or something, so I promptly informed him that “Felix (who is of course, me) isn’t here. Can I take a message?” which I thought was pretty slick. No, it wasn’t.
I’ve decided to break away from my usual rants about random trivial useless crap, and write a review of a video game (get it?), in this case, a game entitled L.A. Noire.
I’m not a gamer by any means. I own a Playstation 3, but I mainly bought it for DVDs and free-view and stuff… I’ve had it for over a year, and only have half a dozen games or so. Another thing you should probably know about me is that I’m pretty broke… So being convinced to spend £40 by a friend while I was pottering around a supermarket was quite a big deal. I had seen a few adverts for L.A. Noire, as well as seeing Charlie Brooker going on about it on Twitter, so I figured I would treat myself. That was my first mistake.
Okay, a bit late, but I have to say this…
Ryan Reynolds: I like you. You were really good in Smokin’ Aces, and probably other stuff that I haven’t seen… You popped up on scrubs, that was funny. You were the only glimmer of okay-ishness in the otherwise deplorable X-Men: Origins movie. From what I know about you, you’re pretty decent. I like you.
Hal Jordan: I like you too. I like your relationship with Oliver Queen, the funny back and forth and the camaraderie . Rebirth was a good book. You always pop up in the crossovers and you always make a good ‘hero’ impression. I usually can’t be bothered with the whole ‘Green Lantern Corps‘ mythos, but when I see you in other things, I’m pleased you’re there. Like I said, I like you.
Ryan Reynolds portraying Hal Jordan in the upcoming Green Lantern movie. Fuck off. Not a chance. It looks atrocious.
B: So if we were to fight, I think the comics have pretty much established that I would win.
S: How do you figure that?
B: Well, you know… Brains over brawn.
S: Dude, I can see atoms and DNA sequences. I can even memorise them and reproduce them, according to Grant Morrison. You think you’re smarter than me?
I apologise unreservedly for the title, but it’s significance will soon be revealed. Anyway… I came home from work a couple of days ago, to find that my girlfriend Rebecca, who by the way, watches the shittiest, most awful “Just stick something on in the background” TV ever, had on a show entitled ‘My Monkey Baby’. Intrigued, and somewhat irritated, I glanced over to see the documentary-style show’s opening summary, which was along the lines of:
“There are around 15,000 monkeys living in people’s homes in America. For some owners, the human-like qualities of monkeys make them the preferred option to kids.”
For a minute, I thought “Okay, that’s fine… a little bit delusional, but okay.” I considered that to people who are sadly unable to have children, due to biological, financial or otherwise significant reasons: a pet is a decent alternative… Cat or dog would be traditional, but okay… Get a monkey.