Blog 81: Big Daddy

I was on the train to London yesterday and was doing some people watching, as you do when bored, and I was keenly watching this horribly fat man because he annoyed me. And he annoyed me not because his hair cut was really stupid, nor because he had the shortest shorts on despite his big pale flabby legs.

No, what REALLY annoyed me was that he was a father of two children, who were sat, relatively well behaved in fairness, but nonetheless BORED out of their MINDS. Now, it's bad enough the dad didn't entertain them, but understandable because he might be fed up, but when the fatty isn't paying attention to his kids because he's too engrossed in his own little Nintendo DS, that's ridiculous. His children are all sitting there bored, staring out the window dreaming of fun, and he's sat there having a whale of a time on his little Gameboy thing going mental.

It really annoyed me.

Blog 80: Shocking

Well there's another rubbish performance by the England game. Maybe now people will realise that you need more to win a football match than just one pretty decent striker (Wayne Rooney has gone about 10 hours in footy now without scoring, by the way) and also you need more than it happening to be Fabio's birthday.

Some awful interviews were going on all over the tele today. One woman asked Fabio if he'd ever heard the song "When I'm 64". He hadn't. She quoted the bit about a bottle of wine and handed him one, he was chuffed, except he doesn't drink wine (nice one). OH and just because the Beatles were English, doesn't mean we'll win football.

England can't seem to score goals, except Robert Green, but of course, that was the wrong goal.

Moreover, Emile Heskey is awful. The finest moment of England's World Cup 2010 was when he was substituted off.

I find it ironic that today marks the 70th anniversary of Winston Churchill's speech to Parliament in 1940 in which he said:

"Here is where we come to the Navy--and after all, we have a Navy. Some people seem to forget that we have a Navy. We must remind them..."

A rather more fitting quote, however, might be perhaps this:

"We shall fight them on the beaches"

We will fight them on the beaches. Our beaches. Because England are coming home.

Blog 79: Charity Work

This is a blog which I hope will relate to people who also wish their lives was more like a Hollywood Rom-Com.

Recently, I've been helping my grandparents move house, and whilst taking books to the charity shop, I noticed that bizarrely, not all the workers in the charity shop were middle aged to elderly women, but in fact ONE of them was amazing and gorgeous and beautiful and young.

BUT of course, we live in the real world. I'm not Brad Pitt or George Clooney, I can't merely wink or smirk and wait for her to fall in love with me straight away, and I certainly can't somehow spill acid in her eyes and then assure her I'm massively sexy. These things don't work.

So basically there's nothing I can do. She will forever be just a girl in a charity shop who I saw once and then never saw again, escaping into the mists of time and just another person I saw once. Like everyone else.

People say "OH just go in and strike conversation". WELL I'M NOT JAMES FREAKING BOND.

"Just be yourself!" WELL THAT WON'T WORK, it never does. "Volunteer at the Charity Shop" ...this was my idea, actually, but even so, I'm not a stalker...yet...

Maybe I'll leave a link to this blog on her desk and hope she realises how funny I am, and maybe how single I am because of the 79 Blog Posts I've done when I could've been snogging.

Blog 78: World Cup!

FINE.

I give up on that silly horror film thing, because, let's face it, I'm not gonna be watching Silence of the Lambs any time soon. Who's fault is it? DAWN OF THE DEAD. It ruined horror films for me, forever. So this is the official end to that ridiculous mess of an idea.

BUT it is also the beginning of the WORLD CUP! South Africa and Mexico have already drawn 1-1, Germany plays their first match today, and good ol' England have drawn with the USA.

Bit of a disappointment, because, well, until last World Cup I wasn't even aware that the USA had like a football team, let alone one that's of World Cup standard, and then England goes and draws, after a good goal, because one SHTUPID goalie can't keep his hands on a ball.

I do feel sorry for Mr Green though, because it was his first world cup, first game, masses of pressure etc etc HEY WAITAMINUTE if he couldn't cope with it he wouldn't have been taken. There's plenty of goalies in England who could've gone all the way to South Africa to make that mistake. Heck, even I could have gone to South Africa and made that mistake. So no sympathy for Mr Green. He looked like he wanted to cry, and he deserves to cry, and weep, into pot noodle after pot noodle until he ends up lying on his back, all fat, in a shack in the Black Forest, food dribbling out of the corner of his mouth and sobbing so violently that his man boobs quiver, like jelly. This quivering will remind him of jelly, and in turn make him hungry for jelly. Then he'll eat jelly and get fatter, making him feel more sorry for himself and sob more, and so it will go, in a vicious circle, until one day, he'll break his shack and roll down a hill in a comical fashion.

I want David Seaman back, even though his surname is funny.

Blog 77: Boredom Boredom

This is a list of things to do when you're bored, which I have created after re-thinking through my activities of the day:

1) Mess around with a screwdriver and drill

2) Watch a bit of Peep Show

3) Cook lunch

4) Spend about 3 hours teaching yourself to play Bat Out Of Hell on the piano

5) Watch Jeremy Kyle, and then watch Trisha

6) Discuss, or just think about, how Jeremy Kyle is much better than Trisha, as she never seems to sort anything out but just seems to say whatever the guests say, but adding a question mark each time to sound surprised and shocked at what they have to say (Guest: "YOU STOLE MONEY OFF ME!" Trisha: "You stole MONEY OFF HER?!" Guest: "You woz in tha pub when I was givin birfff" Trisha: You were in the PUB when she was GIVING BIRTH?!" Guest: Hello Trisha Trisha: HELLO?! TRISHA?! SORT IT OUT.)

7) Listen to old podcasts of Russell Brand and remember the good days when people who didn't listen to the show didn't pretend to be offended by something they think happened on it which actually didn't and was basically Jonathan Ross' fault

8) Sleep more.

9) If ill, watch either one of the Bill & Ted films. Or both.

10) Eat more.

This is a list of things I do when I'm at home and bored.

Blog 76: Good Guess

So at least I'm not paranoid. The Second Saga of a Stalker is here, with updates with my new friend Iqbal.

Already I'm puzzled why he wants to know if I have child, I dunno where I got the idea that I ight have a child from, but then I told him I know nobody called Iqbal.

He then asked "Why? In there no name Iqbal"

I don't know what that means, but I guessed and replied "Well no, it's just I know nobody called Iqbal and so it's really confusing when an Iqbal starts talking to me, why are you messaging me?"

To which he replied "Only just enough to wish know".

Now what the fudge is that supposed to mean. Is it meant to sound sexy and mysterious? 'Cos it just sounds like Yoda tried and failed to teach you English. It sounds like John Prescott.

I said "um What?" which I think is an average reaction, and he replied "No... (which doesn't answer any question) your name michael? (well, yeah, that's why my name is michael on facebook) you have boyfriend?"

Now this made me worried. I think either someone's messing me around here (probably, not even gays like me) BUT if it ISN'T and this guy is genuinely having a go, then what the fudge? Why does he think I might be gay, and why would he message me on the off chance that I'm a massive gayer who is really desperate (which actually, apart from the gay bit, is nearly true)...

I have nothing against gay people at all, but I'm not one, so I dunno why he thought I might be worth asking. Which worries me, 'cos maybe that's why I get no girl attention if they all think I'm not interested...

Anyway, I told him that I have a million boyfriends, sorry, but I'm unavailable.

Hopefully he'll leave me alone, but of course, he probably won't, because he wouldn't be a very good weirdo if he did that.

Blog 75: Second Saga

This is a brief breakage in the barrage of horror reviews which nobody reads and even less people find funny. BUT DON'T WORRY. As soon as I can be bothered to watch Silence of the Lambs then I'll do the review.

Anyhoo, any long term readers, so about 0 people, may remember the Saga of a Stalker, the time when an italian random kept pestering me.

Thankfully, I never ever heard from her again.

HOWEVER, whether it's made me paranoid, or I am right, a similar situation seems to be kicking off.

I got a facebook message today from someone I don't know called "Loenz Aloene". His pic seems to be a black haired kid with his face down (I say his, it could be a her, I have no freaking idea. Not with the name "Loenz".

I asked in reply who they were. They said "My name is Iqbal. You have child?"

I'm not even gonna start pointing out how weird this question is to someone you never met. I told Iqbal no, and that I don't know anyone called Iqbal. I didn't wanna be rude, but I was hoping Iqbal would take this to mean "LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE AND NEVER TALK TO OR OF ME AGAIN".

If he didn't take this hint, but is reading this then I say this to Iqbal.

LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE AND NEVER TALK TO OR OF ME AGAIN.