I was serving a kindly old man at the bar today. He had come for lunch, as he has often done since his wife died recently. He’s probably near 90 and, despite his frailty, is always very nice and polite and funny. Today when he came, there was a little boy screaming and shouting in […]
The year is 2012. The ancient Mayans famously predicted that the world would end. I’ll never know what I was going to be when I got older. They said that on the 21st of December, we would all die. It’s sad, but it’s true. Everyone, this is the last year we have to live our […]
After I wrote a joke on my Twitter involving the word ‘aeroplane‘, I received a response from one of my followers, politely informing me that it was in fact correctly spelled ‘airplane‘. Obviously I was very cordial in then informing them that ‘airplane‘ was the Americanised spelling of the word, and they conceded that “there is an exception if you are British.”, although frankly, that should certainly be the other way around!
Anyway, I bring this up not to have a go at someone misguidedly trying to correct my spelling, but rather at what it made me think about afterwards. I hate to admit it, especially since most of my followers are American, but there is and has always been in Britain, this ever-present stereotype that Americans are stupid; just as American television suggests that Americans hold a stereotype that British people are pompous wimps with bad teeth; it’s fine, those with an opinion that actually matter are usually smart enough to understand the fallacy in negative stereotypes.
People are making such a fuss over the phone tapping scandal in Rupert Murdoch’s British newspapers. The News of The World had to close down (although it was immediately and quite transparently replaced with a Sunday Edition of The Sun anyway), and The Sun is still being investigated; all the while the whole thing is plastered on the BBC News all day. It all just leaves me with one question…
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Felix: Okay… Here’s one. If you could travel through time and space, to be anywhere in the world, at any point in history, where and when would you go?
Ian: Good question.
Felix: And you will of course have to elaborate on your answer.
Ian: Okay. The start of the universe.
Felix: Uhh… Why?
Ian: See the big ka-boom-boom.
Felix: How… But if you go back to before there was a universe; where would you be existing?
Ian: Well, I’d just pop over to see it, and then pop back.
Felix: But you’d die…
Ian: Not if I was in the Tardis from Doctor Who.
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It takes little more than the lowest of I.Q.’s to discern the true nature of (the man known today as) Jesus Christ from the various mentions of him throughout the biblical texts.
The long hair and the beard, spending all day in a dressing gown and flip-flops, yammering on about peace and love; isn’t it obvious?
Jesus of Nazareth was a hippie. A pot smoking hippie.
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The world harbours an infinite range of viewpoints regarding the morality of the execution of criminals nowadays, but as we all know, many ancient civilisations held no such concern for the human rights of their wrongdoers. There are many famous forms of execution, barbaric and gruesome, that I need not go into. However, in satiating my curiosity for obscure history today, I stumbled upon a most creative and symbolic method, of what is ultimately the termination of a man’s life.
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Okay, this has been annoying me for a while now, so I need to get it out.
In the 2010 film ‘The Losers‘, there is a tech-nerd soldier character, portrayed by everyone’s favourite ‘guy who does loads of comic book movies‘, Chris Evans. About half way into the movie, after we’ve already established Mr Evans’ character’s typical arrogant, cocky persona, there’s a scene in which he is having to hurriedly change his disguise whilst in an elevator. As is textbook for a pseudo-comedic Hollywood film, the doors inevitably open the second he removes his trousers and, for some reason, his underwear (for real though, why the underwear?). As Mr Evans looks up in shock, standing before him are four rather attractive and provocatively dressed young ladies, presumably who work in the building he’s unsuccessfully trying to covertly infiltrate. A brief pause ensues as everyone looks at one another: the genitally exposed Chris Evans, and the curious hoards of apparent bimbos; and then, just as we expect the screaming to begin, something rather strange happens.
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What has happened to her face? That’s the front page headline I saw when a co-worker handed me the newspaper yesterday. It’s no secret how much I loath the British tabloids (as posts like ‘Why I can’t look at The Sun‘ and ‘The Anatomy of The Brain (of a Tabloid Reader)‘ will tell you), but this particular case seems to be extremely low on the integrity scale, even by their warped, money-grubbing, sensationalising standards.
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Becky is away in Manchester for the night, so, being the piece of shit that I am, I decided to get some Thai takeaway from the place next door that I never go to, instead of cooking something I already have at home. Anyway, I walk up to the counter, “Hi, how are you? Blah blah blah, food please!” (I didn’t literally say that of course, but you get the gist), and the lady smiles, giggles a bit, and walks round the corner to the kitchen. All of a sudden, I hear her saying stuff in Thai, and it’s followed by an uproar of laughter from however many people were standing around the corner. She comes back a second later, looking at me and holding back her giggling, and then starts doing some busy work behind the counter.
Already fucking awkward.
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