Thursday, June 28, 2007


I was scrabbling through my copy of the Oxford Concise Dictionary the other day...

Christ mate, this sounds like a fascinating anecdote, do go on!

...anyway, sarcasm aside, I was looking through this dictionary checking the spelling of a word.

Wow, what a crayzeee life you lead.

Just fuck off. Alright? As I was saying, dictionary... checking spelling... you get the picture.

And as I was trawling through I happened upon this page, at the top of which is the phrase 'living death'. And what strikes me about this phrase is that, well... does it actually need defining? Surely the clue's in the title so even if you've never heard it before you'll sort of have an inkling.

For instance, you're hardly going to say, "Living death. Ooh, I wonder what that means... better look it up quickly. Maybe it's a type of breakfast cereal" You're just not. You're far more likely to say..."Living death. Oh-er, I don't like the sound of that, sounds pretty dodgy to me. I'd better avoid it."

And then you read the definition: "a state of hopeless misery." Yeah right, like you couldn't have guessed. In fact you'll probably go away feeling a bit cheated and saying to yourself, "Huh, bastards. I could've written that, I could."

In the next entry we'll define the phrase, "running fast"... the state of moving, no, not moving, perambulating. The state of perambulating quickly. No, not quickly, speedily... no, hang on that doesn't sound right...

Hmm, harder than it looks actually.

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Ok Clare, you win

Blimey, I'm so vain. Sooooooooooo fucking vain.

I was going to pack this blog in. Really I was.

Mainly due to sheer laziness.

Alright, totally and utterly due to sheer laziness.

And just when I'm about to turn off the lights, set the alarm and leave the building to the cleaners, I receive a lovely comment. Not the only one I've ever received but certainly the nicest.

And so, like the man of steel that I am, I change my mind.

Anyway, enough of this self-indulgent waffle. On with the 'show'.

This sounds like a fun kind of evening.

Not just a sing-a-long. A disco sing-a-long.

Presumably everyone dances and sings at the same time. Which I suppose could get pretty raucous. Drinks could get spilled, ashtrays and girlfriends upset. Fists and pint pots might fly.

And your compere for this evening of merriment?

Chris Rust.

With a name like that he could go far.

Most likely through the nearest window.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

The end?

Well, maybe.

Let's face it my recent productivity levels on this blog have been similar to those of a 14 year-old boy trying to do his homework in a bedroom equipped with a pc, a Playstation and a stack of porn under the bed.

If I do see something really brilliant then I'll blog it.

Just don't hold your breath waiting.

Not that you would, obviously.