Attention Builders: If, by the end of this post, you are still across the street not working and playing 'Puddle of Mudd' loud enough to drown out your own shittily redundant pneumatic drill (which you have left chuddering away despite not fucking using it), I will be forced to stab your wives and children to death with a broken vodka bottle covered in my own faeces. Please shut the fuck up.
Anyway, it's all gone a bit Pink Floyd in eastern Scotland, with a giant pig cycling around Glasgow and miraculously not being knifed. It's for cancer research, apparently, but I don't see the link between giant blue pigs and cancer if I'm perfectly honest. Still, it's a very honourable cause and if you want to donate a few quid without having to go all the way to the Land of the Jocks to hunt down two blokes pedalling a pig, you could always donate the normal way. Usually I hate preachy charity but I've got a mate who's dad has just been diagnosed as terminal, so I'm not saying you giving them a tenner will help them find a miracle cure in the next eight minutes, but it might help him feel a little bit less shit. Or something. You'd at least be giving purpose to two slightly deranged blokes sitting just in front of a massive carbon fibre pig.
In politics - I know it's American politics but it's been front page news all week over here so all of you pissers and moaners who want to piss and moan about American politics being all over British blogs can do it somewhere else - the world has gone slightly bonkers over the presence of Barack Obama in Britain. The more he campaigns and the more his PR people keep doing the absolutely brilliant job they're doing to promote their man, the more I think he's going to walk the November US Presidential elections - John McCain just isn't even on the radar of anyone who wasn't already voting Republican even if they ran a stuffed hamster as a candidate. The man has been compared to Kennedy in various national papers and while I think that's a bit premature, he's certainly had a Kennedy-like ability to make people dribble all over themselves in 3.4 soundbites. As far back as I can remember I can't think of another US Presidential candidate with that sort of ability, so the only problem I reckon he'll have is if someone takes it into their head to shoot him for being one of those damn negroes.
Hopefully they won't, though, as even if he wouldn't make a great President he seems like a genuinely nice sort of bloke. The sort of President you could have a pint with. Though any President that lets a slightly sozzled Englishman influence foreign policy is a very silly one indeed. Though it would be a bit of a change.
Of course, not all change is good. The sort of change that leaves you vomiting your kidneys up and gives you permenent brain damage is probably not the desired response for 'The Amazing Hydration Diet', though I have to say anyone who is willing to undertake anything that self-identifies as 'Amazing' is probably a bit thick anyway - If I walked around nightclubs introducing myself as 'The Amazing Sexual Dynamo' I might get a few sideways looks but I'd be extremely unlikely to find success. It just smacks of overcompensation. Still, £800,000 should be good enough for anyone, especially just for a 'cognitive defecit', which probably means she forgot what sort of pasta was her favourite for just about long enough to win a lawsuit.
I don't understand these fad diets anyway to be honest. If you want to lose weight, take up cycling. I love cycling. You can speed about like a low-budget Lance Armstrong and get your adrenaline going, or you can gently trundle through the woods at about half the speed of a tectonic plate and look at the rabbits, and it's also absolutely fantastic exercise. It's also about seventy-eight times more enjoyable than staring at a wall on the running machine at the gym. Admittedly my last cycling experiment the other day ended with my saddle falling off and me being spreadeagled and feeling sick after going dirt-cycling following three days of cider and bourbon, but, if I'm honest, I don't think that's entirely representative of the full cycling experience.
Still, I'm off the point I was trying to make - 'detox' diets are crap and kill you. Atkins was crap and killed you. All stupid diets are crap and will either kill you or make you feel like a baby-rapist for helping yourself to that bowl of soft scoop you felt would go perfectly with that weepy film on Channel 4, neither of which are particularly pleasant endings. If only people would move about a bit more they wouldn't need to eat nothing but green peppers for a month and have a hose full of boiling water pushed up their arses twice a week. You've got to have some sort of cognitive defecit to like that sort of thing in the first place.
It's all down to stupid celebrity worship really. Posh Spice weighs about four ounces and wears sunglasses that make her look like an insect, so obviously that's what everyone should do. I hate those glasses. Even my mother's got a pair, because they're the only style you can buy anymore. I expect these diets are all down to Gwyneth Paltrow swigging down nothing but tomato juice for six months to 'Get Back her Summer Bod', or some other terribly trite fashion-mag shite. We really do go so pointlessly fucking mental over celebrities - Halle Berry has just tried to get papparazzi arrested for trespassing onto her property in order to get pictures of her 4-month-old baby. Why? It's a baby. They all look fucking identical. Fat, starey and with little tufts of hair on top and none on the sides. You could pass off a picture of Ed Balls as one of Halle Berry's baby. Who'd really notice? "Oh, it's not got her eyes, has it?" "Looks a bit like a cunt politician to me."
Oh, and prisoners have been banned from playing adult-rated games - heaven forbid those hardened criminals see a bit of digital blood. Best let them play nothing but Mario Kart until one of them snaps and beats his cellmate to death with a spiny shell forged out of sharpened biros and an old shoe brush. Oh, and apparently, as well as for good behaviour, you can also get to play computer games if you're feeling suicidal in prison - "I know we've had to take your shoelaces away because you're desperately looking for a way out of this constant torture of beatings, intimidation and rape where any day now you might be left half-dead with your intestines hanging out on the floor of the exercise yard because you looked at Big Daz in just the wrong way, but here, play some 'Legend of Zelda', you'll feel better".
Personally I think it's stupid they get games at all - I remember seeing a documentary on young offenders' institutes a few years back, and those little bastards had a PS2 before I did. I very nearly stabbed a pensioner just so I could get the new Gran Turismo before my mates. Anyway, it's blazingly hot again and I'm going to go and burn off my epidermis and risk skin cancer while lying in the garden like some sort of pasty fruity-drink-sipping beached whale.
After I've killed some builders.
More tomorrow.
Goodnight.
Anyway, it's all gone a bit Pink Floyd in eastern Scotland, with a giant pig cycling around Glasgow and miraculously not being knifed. It's for cancer research, apparently, but I don't see the link between giant blue pigs and cancer if I'm perfectly honest. Still, it's a very honourable cause and if you want to donate a few quid without having to go all the way to the Land of the Jocks to hunt down two blokes pedalling a pig, you could always donate the normal way. Usually I hate preachy charity but I've got a mate who's dad has just been diagnosed as terminal, so I'm not saying you giving them a tenner will help them find a miracle cure in the next eight minutes, but it might help him feel a little bit less shit. Or something. You'd at least be giving purpose to two slightly deranged blokes sitting just in front of a massive carbon fibre pig.
In politics - I know it's American politics but it's been front page news all week over here so all of you pissers and moaners who want to piss and moan about American politics being all over British blogs can do it somewhere else - the world has gone slightly bonkers over the presence of Barack Obama in Britain. The more he campaigns and the more his PR people keep doing the absolutely brilliant job they're doing to promote their man, the more I think he's going to walk the November US Presidential elections - John McCain just isn't even on the radar of anyone who wasn't already voting Republican even if they ran a stuffed hamster as a candidate. The man has been compared to Kennedy in various national papers and while I think that's a bit premature, he's certainly had a Kennedy-like ability to make people dribble all over themselves in 3.4 soundbites. As far back as I can remember I can't think of another US Presidential candidate with that sort of ability, so the only problem I reckon he'll have is if someone takes it into their head to shoot him for being one of those damn negroes.
Hopefully they won't, though, as even if he wouldn't make a great President he seems like a genuinely nice sort of bloke. The sort of President you could have a pint with. Though any President that lets a slightly sozzled Englishman influence foreign policy is a very silly one indeed. Though it would be a bit of a change.
Of course, not all change is good. The sort of change that leaves you vomiting your kidneys up and gives you permenent brain damage is probably not the desired response for 'The Amazing Hydration Diet', though I have to say anyone who is willing to undertake anything that self-identifies as 'Amazing' is probably a bit thick anyway - If I walked around nightclubs introducing myself as 'The Amazing Sexual Dynamo' I might get a few sideways looks but I'd be extremely unlikely to find success. It just smacks of overcompensation. Still, £800,000 should be good enough for anyone, especially just for a 'cognitive defecit', which probably means she forgot what sort of pasta was her favourite for just about long enough to win a lawsuit.
I don't understand these fad diets anyway to be honest. If you want to lose weight, take up cycling. I love cycling. You can speed about like a low-budget Lance Armstrong and get your adrenaline going, or you can gently trundle through the woods at about half the speed of a tectonic plate and look at the rabbits, and it's also absolutely fantastic exercise. It's also about seventy-eight times more enjoyable than staring at a wall on the running machine at the gym. Admittedly my last cycling experiment the other day ended with my saddle falling off and me being spreadeagled and feeling sick after going dirt-cycling following three days of cider and bourbon, but, if I'm honest, I don't think that's entirely representative of the full cycling experience.
Still, I'm off the point I was trying to make - 'detox' diets are crap and kill you. Atkins was crap and killed you. All stupid diets are crap and will either kill you or make you feel like a baby-rapist for helping yourself to that bowl of soft scoop you felt would go perfectly with that weepy film on Channel 4, neither of which are particularly pleasant endings. If only people would move about a bit more they wouldn't need to eat nothing but green peppers for a month and have a hose full of boiling water pushed up their arses twice a week. You've got to have some sort of cognitive defecit to like that sort of thing in the first place.
It's all down to stupid celebrity worship really. Posh Spice weighs about four ounces and wears sunglasses that make her look like an insect, so obviously that's what everyone should do. I hate those glasses. Even my mother's got a pair, because they're the only style you can buy anymore. I expect these diets are all down to Gwyneth Paltrow swigging down nothing but tomato juice for six months to 'Get Back her Summer Bod', or some other terribly trite fashion-mag shite. We really do go so pointlessly fucking mental over celebrities - Halle Berry has just tried to get papparazzi arrested for trespassing onto her property in order to get pictures of her 4-month-old baby. Why? It's a baby. They all look fucking identical. Fat, starey and with little tufts of hair on top and none on the sides. You could pass off a picture of Ed Balls as one of Halle Berry's baby. Who'd really notice? "Oh, it's not got her eyes, has it?" "Looks a bit like a cunt politician to me."
Oh, and prisoners have been banned from playing adult-rated games - heaven forbid those hardened criminals see a bit of digital blood. Best let them play nothing but Mario Kart until one of them snaps and beats his cellmate to death with a spiny shell forged out of sharpened biros and an old shoe brush. Oh, and apparently, as well as for good behaviour, you can also get to play computer games if you're feeling suicidal in prison - "I know we've had to take your shoelaces away because you're desperately looking for a way out of this constant torture of beatings, intimidation and rape where any day now you might be left half-dead with your intestines hanging out on the floor of the exercise yard because you looked at Big Daz in just the wrong way, but here, play some 'Legend of Zelda', you'll feel better".
Personally I think it's stupid they get games at all - I remember seeing a documentary on young offenders' institutes a few years back, and those little bastards had a PS2 before I did. I very nearly stabbed a pensioner just so I could get the new Gran Turismo before my mates. Anyway, it's blazingly hot again and I'm going to go and burn off my epidermis and risk skin cancer while lying in the garden like some sort of pasty fruity-drink-sipping beached whale.
After I've killed some builders.
More tomorrow.
Goodnight.
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