Bugs of the Week...

Well, ants. Ants are quite cool. But that's not the type of bugs I'm on about.

What has been 'bugging' (apt.) me this week is 'I'm an Obsolete Figment of your Memory from the Past and I have since gone mad, mad from the heady days of my celebrity of hence. Please watch me do fuck all for weeks on end and eat bugs in the jungle and Then, if you'd be so kind Get Me Out Of Here so I can marry a "co-star" and dominate the tabloid press and then cover a Disney song.' Then press your red button.

"REALITY TV KILLED THE SITCOM STAR."

Which it undoubtedly did. No channel wants to fund any sitcoms anymore because they're already guaranteed money from audiences who, under no uncertainty, WILL watch Big Brother and all it's sister shows on E4, More4, E4+1, B4+72, 4play, Cam4, G4, 4Teen...

And Reality involves the absolute minimum of work; no writers etc.. so they cost less to make but bring in heaps more money. Which is why great shows like Green Wing are dwarved viewing-figure-wise and subsequently dropped because, like Channel 4 said; "Not pulling enough and are not worth in making further series."

So, I have to say I feel that anyone who watches any of that mince is a hypocrite to call themselves a serious fan of any sitcom. And the people who want more than one series "really badly" and still 'switch over to ITV2' or 'press the red button' are even worse.

It's always going to be that way; a great show comes along and it'll last a series. If that.

And it's because of you idiots watching the shite. You sold out, and now you're condemning us to a future of lazy, monotonous, money-hungry, 'interactive', manipulating, bully-culture tripe.

Soon there won't be any actors or anyone for you to 'admire' for tv, let alone writers...

Think about it, viewing public. Yes, that's you.

What sparked me off on this rant was a sort of throwaway comment in a certain women's magazine (More) which happened to be sitting in the bathroom at the time of my visit.

The Nation's 'much-loved' reject of that 'parasite of sanity', 'Big Brother' - Nikki (of shagging the winner with that inane stutter fame) has her own column. I figured I'd read it because it was there and I knew I'd get something out of it to rant about.

The Column read thusly:

"I'm sick of people slagging off Jordan. She's a great mum, wife and role model. I hope her and lovely Peter are together forever and have lots more gorgeous babies. If I had half the success of Jordan I'd be over the moon - she's my idol."

Nikki: Essex-Based Confucius.

Now. I see many problems with above commentage. Firstly; this is coming from the girl who dominated the tabloids for a good few months of our lives, wearing things like bunny girl costumes and whining and whinging like a fucking petulant, spoiled child. Lets get this straight; I do not like this girl. I would like to stick drawing pins in her pupils. Christ, she'd make me want to stick pins in my own eyes and drink camel piss if I didn't have such a feeling of self worth and intelligence when I look at her.

Anyway, back to her comments; lets start from the beginning and take it apart, bit by bit.

"She's a great mum, wife and role model." - Words fucking fail me. Jordan's an obsessive for plastic surgery and wants MORE to make herself 'feel better'. She's got her tits out all over the shop. She met her husband in the jungle on 'I'm a Twat, Love Me, Britain!' Her children are by Dwight Yorke and Peter Andre. I'll go to hell if I say anymore on that account. But I will say this; one of them looks like a gorilla. That is, the children. Not...well. I see your point.

"I hope her and lovely Peter are together forever and have lots more gorgeous babies." - Firstly; 'Lovely Peter' is not the phrase I instantly adhere to Andre's image. 'Fucking annoying Peter with more pecs than Brain Cells' is probably more apt. And 'Gorgeous Babies'?! Well - she did fall in 'reality tv luff' with the punk-wannabe-and-offensively-unpleasant-on-the-eyes tourette's sufferer.* I suppose gorillas are cute to some folk.

"If I had half the success of Jordan I'd be over the moon." - You mean, if you had half her cup size? That seems to be her fame. All in one wonderbra.


*Not that I'm shallow. He's a fucking idiot aswell.

Geometrically Loaded Films are go!

Okay, I know they're not strictly portfolio-ish...but they can be used to show in my folio how images can be taken and used in totally different contexts to be different things, and drawing on aspects that the original edit wouldn't have shown.

Anyway. Obsessed though I am, I still think they're quite good.

Enjoy my three Green Wing film trailers...

'HUZZAH!' for the Virgin Birth.

I have just had the best news in work. Because of Kim's maternity leave coming up in just over 3 weeks, I'll be contracted for her Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday backshifts, my own Sunday backshift, and have ten floating hours for Financial Services.

Where's the Saturday early on that list, eh?

NOWHERE, that's where! Elaine's taking it. So I have 32+ hours contract, and can go jiggin' on a Friday night. Roll on baby Leadbetter. You are my saviour.

On the downside, Dad's been told the Army's coming in to take over his and the depot's job so that means he, and all his colleagues are out. Well, I say downside, but the place has made him depressed and a greetin' whinin' whingin' arsehole. and the pay's shit for working along with bombs and nuclear subs. So all the better. Looks like both Mummy and Daddy will be on flexible hours and self-employed. And free to give Jennifer lifts to work and places and suchlike.




*salutes the MoD* You bunch of inbred twats!




All in all, it's been a good day and I think things are on the up at last. I even got given a phone in work so people can contact me!

I know, I know. The littlest things...

Is it just me, or is everything shit?

I don't think I've ever read a book before which clichédly "made me laugh, cry...it changed my life."

Actually, it didn't change my life, (as I have, already, rather a jaded perception of society) but it made me cry laughing. I listened to the audiobook last night, the one which the ever-brilliant pair of British gems Stephen Mangan and Julian Rhind-Tutt were narrating.

Most notable points would be designer baby clothes. "Dahlin, Let's get this designer baby grow for £50 that it'll probably grow out of tomorrow afternoon." "Dahlin, I'm quite bored of the baby now. We've had it for eight weeks now...so can we drop it off at..like a charity shop or something? Like with shoes?"

Also: "D is for Il Divo. Italian for 'The Divvs'."

I feel like I've found my bible.

Friday Night with the TV. Again.

I love my Saturdays off. They always seem to land on the weeks that everyone's busy/can't be bothered/just don't want to spend time with me.

One more night in won't kill me; it'll just clarify to all and sundry that I'm a complete recluse.

Come on, Sally Magnusson...

Well, Songs of Praise was actually quite a nice experience, forgetting that Sally Magnusson kept forgetting her lines and we had to keep reshooting songs and links to make sure the editors had a multitude of shots to work with.

It was lovely, visually, in the City Halls in Glasgow - there were over 1100 NYCoS members from each of the choirs: there were 'Big' NYCoS (us), the training choir, the National Boys Choir, the 'Changed Voices' choir, and all the area choirs. It was sweet because the area choirs were dressed in their blue shirts, but some were in white with the NYCoS tie on so when they stood up it made a Soltire. Awwwh. How Patriotic were we for St Andrews Day, eh?

I ran a seminar today for some kids (I say kids; they were 16/17 to my feeble 18.) from the local Catholic Academy; talking about our workplace and giving them an EPOS breakdown problem to solve. They were a 'mixed abilities' group, a description that scared us a bit in the beginning, but when Lynn and I got going, they were responsive, funny, intelligent and interested. I really enjoyed myself to be honest. They were lovely and I felt... I don't know... proud of them, in a way.

I'm such an old woman now, aren't I?

I know this blog is a bit on the boringly indescriptive side, but it's Hallowe'en, and in this house, it seems to be the tradition to ignore it. Mum refuses to buy sweets for any guisers.

So I'm in the dark as I write this. The pitch bloody dark. And although I can touch type to an okay degree, I've not got laser vision.

I felt bad, because I had to ignore this old woman and her dog, both of which made an effort to come out dressed as a green witch and her flying monkey.

But I had no sweets for the crazy lady and her doggy. I'm a very bad person.

"No shit." says Everyone Else.

On the BBC News site today:

Abuse must be addressed says Pope.

Pope Benedict XV has told Catholic bishops from Ireland that they must deal effectively with problems caused by priests who sexually abuse children.

And that's why he's one of the most powerful religious leaders in the known universe. Well done, Father XV. He's also named after an egg dish, which just adds so much to his credibility.

You know, I'm doing "Songs of Praise" with the Youth Choir tomorrow. Will I be smited?