Thursday 15 December 2011

Baby It’s Cold Inside My Head (I have a cold)

Every time I have time off work I get a bit ill. I know, I know – honestly I am not not trying to say how hilarious this is and saying it is ironic (even though it’s not irony) to get anyone reading this to empathise “Ha, that happens to me too – I am laughing at the similarities in our lives; in the way we all think why does it always happen to me? When (a) it doesn’t happen all the time you just remember the times is does and (b) it happens to everyone”. That is what you are empathising, I know.

One of the reasons I am glad it happens when I am not in work is the phrase ‘man flu’. No, I have a cold: it’s annoying and making me tired and my throat tickles. I didn’t claim it was flu. Also, I – and anyone who has ever met me – might quibble with the description of me as a man. So fuck off you stupid fucking twat and have three months off work with stress when your job involves doing easy things poorly and not getting punished for it.


I went shopping today – few things still to get for Christmas etc. I am very terrible at getting things that aren’t for me. And, as I think I have covered this before, I am physically unable to walk around town without sweating profusely in the back area. So I was doing ok – I had a fucking list. Me: I had a list. I had ticked most things off. But I couldn’t find one of them and ended up doing a tour of all the department stores in Manchester; including the posh ones. They all just said “Have you tried Harvey Nicks or Selfridges?” [apart from of course Harvey Nicks and Selfridges who replaced their own name with Debenhams in that statement].

I’ll be frank, I didn’t feel very at home in Harvey Nicholls. I kept feeling like a butler was going to come up to me and ask me to leave. Even though I felt I had to leave for reasons of social inadequacy, after when they told me they didn’t want what I was looking for – at this point I emphasised with Bono (from U2, the popular rock combo who had a hit single called I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For) like I never had before-I couldn’t leave. I got lost. Actual panic came over me. Every time I thought I saw a door it was actually a window. Or in one case a door – but to the changing rooms.

On emerging from Harvey Nicholls unsuccessful in my search for what I wanted – (really, does no-one stock 19ft statues of the Eastenders character ‘Nasty’ Nick Cotton?) but free from rows of luxury items out of my price range – I truly felt I could empathise with the people who survived the camps of Nazi Germany. I know it seems an extreme comparison and some of you may think it is inappropriate but I think you should grow up: those people went through stuff that was – at least – 80% as bad as my experiences in a few shops trying to find something while sweating and having a bit of a cold.

Short Pissed More Like

This week’s Shortlist (the one with ‘The Dragon Tattoo on the cover) has a review of the year in it. It gives Drive film of the year – not something I would quibble with. The blurb with this said

‘Scorsese and DeNiro, Leone and Eastwood, and now, with their second film together ready to shoot, you can add Drive collaborators Ryan Gosling and Nicholas Winding Refn to the list of classic cinematic partnerships. Yes, it’s that good.’

You can just fuck off with shit like that, Shortlist. What are YOU TALKING ABOUT? Someone being good in one film and then PLANNING another film together does not mean you can add them to a list of great film partnerships. At best it puts them on a par with ANY director and actor who have made one brilliant film together. Hyperbole isn’t the word for this kind of really wank journalism. DeNiro and Scorsese made EIGHT films together, at least six of which are awesome. Eastwood and Leone made the greatest Western trilogy ever made together. They are relationships – at the moment Gosling and Winding Refn had one good night together which they may or may not ruin a bit by going through the ‘we are seeing each other’ bit of a second film.

It really wound me up. It was also claimed that it was impossible to leave the cinema after watching Senna and not be in tears. It’s not. It’s possible.



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