Tag Archives: gifs

Animals strike curious poses

1. I was going through my GIF collection the other day (yeah I have a GIF collection. Do you not??) and found that it it includes
– 2 Carey Grant GIFs;
– 2 X-Files GIFs;
– 3 Stephen Fry GIFs;
– 3 Big Lebowski GIFs;
– 4 Star Trek GIFs;
– 8 GIFs of people rolling their eyes and/or giving the finger (for future use);
– and this masterpiece:

It gets funner the longer you look at it.

2. I’ve stopped going to Lidl and started shopping at Sainsbury’s again. Lidl is much cheaper, and it’s directly on my route home from work, whereas Sainsbury’s is a few minutes out of my way. Lidl, however, doesn’t have automated checkouts. Turns out I will gladly pay for the luxury of not having to interact with other humans. (At Sainsbury’s, if there is a queue at the automated checkouts and a human cashier standing there doing nothing, I’ll still go for the automated checkouts.)

3. As part of my Personal Improvement Project to learn the fuck out of French, I signed up for a French pen pal (keyboard pal?), and connected with a lady in Strasbourg called Sylvie. Writing in French really is improving my skills by forcing me to apply all the grammatical rules I learned in school way back when, but Sylvie…is terrible. She’s condescending, didactic and has no discernable sense of humour. She sent me a list of more than a dozen songs (unprompted) and instructed me to “listen carefully to the lyrics – these songs are very beautiful”. They were all unbearably schmaltzy. I made it through about four. Don’t believe me?

BLARRRGHH. (If you want to learn French by listening to music, start with Jacques Brel.)

She gave me an overview of France (again, unprompted) that included such gems as the following:

“Au niveau gastronomique la France est très riche. Les vins, les fromages et les plats raffinés et régionaux sont très développés.” (On a culinary level, France is very rich. The wines, cheeses, refined dishes and regional specialties are highly developed.)

YOU DON’T SAY.

All this is just me being a jerk, of course, but the clincher came when I asked her who her favourite authors were and she said she didn’t have any. Sorry, Sylvie – somehow I don’t think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

4. Best thing to say in a Scottish accent: murder
Best thing to say in a Geordie accent: Kawasaki
Best thing to say in an Australian accent: 1999

Teach me to mend like a violent bride

1. There’s a shout-out to Wax Mannequin in The Burning Hell’s Grave Situation Part 3. I saw Wax Mannequin at Zaphod Beeblebrox* in Ottawa back when he was first starting out. He was crazy/amazing. There were only a handful of people in the audience but he went for it like it was his last day on Earth. Between songs, some guy called out “Rock harder!” and he shrieked back “YOU DO NOT KNOW! WHAT YOU ARE ASKING!” Anyway, I’m glad to know he’s still out there, rocking at mathematically impossible percentages. Good on ya, Wax Mannequin!

*One of the very few good things about living in Ottawa was the fact that it contains a bar called Zaphod Beeblebrox. And yes, they do serve a Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster (although not exactly according to spec), which is pretty darn tasty.

2. The other day at the pub I found myself sitting between two Northern lorry drivers and a soldier from Texas and I nearly died from a violent allergic reaction to their opinions. The lorry drivers were mostly just ill-informed (“All wars are started by religion.” IS THAT SO. Explain how, say, World War One was started by religion, exactly?) but the Texan guy seemed highly educated and yet his opinions were horrifying. On the subject of poverty, he explained his belief that it is the responsibility of every person born in unfavourable circumstances to rise above those circumstances and make something of themselves. So! Let’s compare two groups of people: one living in poverty, with all that entails – higher crime rates, less access to education and decent healthcare, prevalent substance abuse, etc. – and one relatively affluent group, living in a safer environment with good schools and better employment opportunities. Now, if a higher number of people from the first group wind up in poverty, on drugs or in prison (as statistically does happen literally all of the time), that is exclusively the fault of those individual people for not pulling themselves up by the bootstraps and not the problem or responsibility of society at large in any way? Apparently yes. Well, I guess it’s good to know that the world is exactly as it should be. Poor people deserve to be poor!

On the subject of gun control, he was quite happy to admit that more guns lying around = more gun violence, but, and I quote, “You can’t get rid of it. It’s in the constitution!” Too bad the US constitution is set in stone and never ever changed in any way, huh.

3. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha

It takes a locksmith baby to push you off

1. I don’t usually comment on celebrity deaths because who cares what I think? (About anything, really? Hey, where are you going?) But it is just SO LAME that Rik Mayall is gone.

2. The other day buddy J was in Tesco, and he saw a dude in a wheelchair drop a pot of yogurt. Naturally, trying to be helpful, he picked it up and gave it back to the guy. Unfortunately, the pot had sprung a leak and spilled yogurt on the poor wheelchair dude’s lap. According to J, “All I could think to do was say, ‘Pay it forward!’ and walk away.” I probably shouldn’t find this as funny as I do.

3. Oh hey, so here’s a thing: before I moved into my new flat, I do wish I’d noticed the giant ‘For Sale’ sign on the side of the building. Because as it turns out, the building is for sale! It’s not inconceivable that the new owners will happily carry on with everything as it is, but I’ve twice had flats sold out from under me and been evicted both times, so I’m not overly confident. Have I angered a gypsy or something? Am I cursed to roam the earth for all eternity? My credit cards aren’t going to take much more of this.

4. Here are some songs by Timber Timbre, slightly awkwardly named but awesome Canadian country/pop/folk/kinda rockabilly, maybe?/whatever/why doesn’t anyone just pick a single genre anymore, kids these days I swear, band:

Love. Hot Dreams is a very cool album and you should check it out.

5. On Friday I am going to see the Vikings exhibition at the British Museum and I am ridiculously, ridiculously excited. RIDICULOUSLY. (Dudes there will be a REAL-LIFE VIKING WARSHIP, OMFG.) Then I am going to catch up with a few old friends in Kilburn, and I am excited about that too.

Put the load right on me

1. I went to see The Raid 2 in the cinema. It was possibly the best cinema experience I’ve ever had. It was on a Wednesday and the theatre was almost completely empty. (And two of the ten people in the place walked out five minutes into the film. I think it’s safe to say that Huntingdon audiences aren’t into watching movies in Foreign. All that reading! It’s like homework!) J and I had our feet up, shoes off, stuff spread out everywhere, and we laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed. Not that the film is funny. None of the things we were laughing at were meant to be amusing. It was more like incredulous laughter at the mind-blowing ultraviolence (subway hammer party!). I think it was contagious, too, because eventually some of the other handful of folks in the cinema started laughing too.

Anyway, the film was brilliant and has all the extreme violence you could possibly want, plus a bit of crumpet for the ladies:

Arifin Putra: TASTY.

2. My life is about to explode into chaos. J and I have settled on a house in Bedford and we will be moving IMMINENTLY. I started packing today. Until I find a job in Bedford I will carry on commuting back to Huntingdon to my current job, which, although Bedford is only a half hour’s drive away, will take me about an hour and a half each way on public transport, HOORAY. Anyway, I might be a elusive blog-wise for the next little while, so here are some GIFs of cats to tide you over. You’re welcome.

Sitting here wishing on a cement floor

1. Christmas was fine! Thanks for asking. I received not one but TWO cardigans, so that is a win right there. I ate a lot of cheese. I watched Die Hard, and Scrooged, and It’s A Wonderful Life. All is right with the world.

2. Despite my irrationally intense dislike of the name, I caved in and started watching Orange Is The New Black. And could not stop. It is pretty good (and I seriously love the theme song by Regina Spektor). It’s by the creator of Weeds, so I guess the formula of ‘middle-class white ladies breaking the law’ (gasp!!!) is working pretty well for her.

The name, though, still rankles me. Especially since the lead character only wears orange for two episodes until she’s issued with a khaki uniform, so on top of being an incredibly lame non-joke it doesn’t even make sense in context, glargle. Literally any other name would have been better. Here are some suggestions, feel free to make use of them, Netflix, YOU’RE WELCOME:
Hard Time (seriously – was this already taken? It is such an obvious choice)
WASP Behind Bars
The She-shank Redemption
Lesbotronic Big-House Fun Time
JAIL!

3. The premiere of the new season of Sherlock is a headline today on the Le Monde website. International news!

4. Things are making me angry these days. Things. Flat things. There is a problem with condensation in my flat, due to a structural problem with the building. This means that in colder weather, water forms inside the windows and drip-drip-drips on the windowsills. Constantly. It drip-drip-drips all night, and because the windows are so tall, it sounds more like SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! and it keeps me awake. I have to wipe the windowsills with a cloth several times a day to keep the water from dripping down the walls. Black mould is growing on the walls behind my dresser and my sofa. I wash it off with bleach but it keeps coming back. The flat is noticeably humid – laundry takes several days to dry.

I’ve asked the landlords, via the letting agents, what is going to be done about the situation. Short answer: nothing. The landlords are looking into solutions to the structural problem, but that’s not going to happen anytime soon. There was some initial noise about proving a dehumidifier, but the landlord refused to agree to compensate me for the running costs, and now it doesn’t look like I’m going to get a dehumidifier at all, unless I buy one myself. The letting agents are completely ignoring my emails about the subject.

I emailed the council’s environmental health department about the mould, and…they emailed me a pamphlet about preventing and removing mould. YOUR TAXES HARD AT WORK.

This is how I’m feeling:

I’m so tired of cleaning mould and listening to drops of water going SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! all night and cleaning condensation off my windows and trying to arrange sponges strategically on my windowsills to catch the worst of the drops. I’m tired of living in a slum. I’m tired of being ignored. I’m tired of being poor, basically. WHERE DID MY PARENTS GO WRONG. (Just kidding, Mom. I know I’ve only myself to blame. I mean, art college, right? Ha ha ha what was I thinking?!?)

Anyway, judging by Orange Is The New Black, prison seems like a wacky place filled with colourful characters, so maybe I’ll just go on a killing spree.