FELIX: We should have a chat again sometime, Ian. About, uhh… I don’t know, anything. The Egyptian revolution.
IAN: Fuck’s sake. Not all that. Sphinx an’ Pyramids an’ shit. What came first, the sand or the stone?
FELIX: Yup, that’ll do. That’s the Egyptian revolution covered.
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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 […]
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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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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If you aren’t familiar with it, it’s basically using more words than you need to, to express the same thing, or when one word makes another one redundant. E.g. ‘A free gift’ or ‘a true fact’. So anyway, this word perhaps saved my life. It was about five years ago, and my pyscho ex-girlfriend had […]
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