Friday 20 July 2012

600

As I mentioned, yesterday was the 600th time I had wasted my life by writing a blog*. How have they progressed? Let’s take a trip down memory lane…

(These are not quite right, but they are near enough; basically I started working it out as though the second blog was the first and – although it would be the merest of tweaks – I haven’t corrected the error once realised, which I did when I got to the ‘500th’ one and it referred to the one from the previous day being number 500. Actually, fuck it – I’ve decided to the right ones. Ignore all of this in brackets.)

Blog 1 – About being obsessed with the Penguin Toss game on Facebook. It may be of interest to you that it was a temporary spell and I am no longer obsessed with it. Random sentence from blog: “There is one where you throw a penguin vertically up between two walls, this has little-to-no merit for me.”

Blog 100 – Seems to be an anti-anti-peadophile-but-not-pro-paedophile rant (I’m not reading these, just skimming them).  There is quite a lot of self-degrading stuff – it might be of interest to you that I am still mainly interested in hating and criticising myself, but you probably wouldn’t be interested in that because it’s about me and I am shit (haha!). Random sentence: “It’s like everyone joining a group saying they don’t want their children to be on fire.”

Blog 200 – Despite being similar in flow to all the non-bullet pointed blogs this one is, for some reason, bullet-pointed. It seems to be about being annoyed by people talking like shits. It might be of interest to you that people are still annoying me. Random sentence: “I was only recently thinking about an argument between rival playground designers where a debate about the spacing of certain features would feature the phrase in a literal way.”

Blog 300 – This is the first ‘milestone’ century blog where it isn’t acknowledged. They do say people get passé about numerical achievements around 300 blogs. In this entry I talk about how clever I am and then talk about being annoyed by someone at work. It may be of interest to you…etc Random sentence: “It is his fault he is a dick, forcing his dick-ness into our conversations.”

Blog 400 – unsurprisingly the turn of the year had a say in this entry. More precisely the end of my month off work is featured. The subject of cardboardpentry raises its head as well – sadly my structure didn’t last. I also discuss the motion picture We Need to Talk about Kevin and DO talk about statistics of the blog but don’t mention it being the four hundreth blog, it seems I am still being blasé about milestones. Random sentence: “I had to stop caring about stats on this blog.”

Blog 500 is the other day, let’s not revisit it just yet.

*This specific blog, there are probably 50ish other blogs of varying titles.

Shady

You can’t criticise something you haven’t tried – this should be a law. It would certainly cut down on the amount of homophobia in society and, perhaps, increase the amount of homosexuality. This is why I am reading 50 Shades of Grey. Not so I can criticise it regardless of what I think, so that I can say it’s a tawdry piece of piss with some degree of evidence rather than just say it’s shit because I imagine it’s shit. Like people do. “REM are so depressing,” people would say after I said I had bought the new album over the last few years. This would be based on having heard Losing My Religion on the radio when Princess Diana’s head was damaged so badly her life expired.

I digress.

As you may have picked up from Wednesday’s blog, I was not impressed with E L James’ (incorrect) use of physics terminology. But what’s it all about?

Chapter One: Female student Anastasia has to interview a wealthy businessman on behalf of her journalist friend. She’s a bit flustered by the idea anyway but when she sees him, fucking hell, she gets all flustered. There is no subtext. The text is: he’s fit as fuck.

Chapter Two: Anastasia goes back home after the interview. She keeps thinking about the man’s (piercing) grey (and it’s his name!) eyes. We find out that she is really good friends with a photographer (will there be any payback on this at some point way down the narrative?), the photographer is a lad who’s definitely got (sexual?) feelings for her. We have a useless page or two at her part-time job. Then a bit later she goes back again for another shift (this could have served the same purpose to the narrative as the first time we went there with her) and – fucking hell – who comes in to buy a load of rope (and other things that could be used for DIY – or bondage??). She thinks it’s odd that he has shown up in a local DIY store but dismisses it. They have a chat and she says the interview was great but her friend is a but upset that they didn’t have a photograph to go with it. He says he is in town overnight and that he could do a picture the day after, but it would be reliant on her arranging a photographer. The chapter ends with her thinking: IF ONLY I BLOODY NEW A PHOTOGRAPHER.

Chapter Three (a bit of it, I only read a few pages of it): She talks to her mate…wait a minute: they know a photographer, their really good friend who was round for a drink  yesterday telling how he had been granted a PHOTOGRAPHY exhibition at the local gallery. She gets asked out by the brother of the owner of the DIY store where she works (this could be Chapter Two) who she turns down. She rationalises with her subconscious that it’s because he’s an ordinary Joe – definitely not a literary hero. Her subconscious raises an eye and asks is Mr Christian Grey just that, a literary hero. Remember this is the fictional narrator’s subconscious toying with the idea of a male character being a literary hero based on him being really good looking and rich. The writer of the book is merely a conduit for this, she definitely isn’t being grandiose about her own writing.

Insect

This fell on my head today. I am pretty sure it’s CONCLUSIVE evidence of an alien invasion.

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