The Curse of Celebrity. And more about Michael Jackson, the subject that never dies....

Just a quick update everyone. Michael Jackson is still dead. Thankfully. Although for some reason no-one will shut up about him. C'mon guys, when he was alive you all thought he was a weirdo paedophile! You can't change your mind just 'cos he's dead. In fact, now would be the perfect time to admit you always thought he was a freak. He's dead, what's he going to do about it? People can say all they like about him "having his childhood stolen from him" (boo f*cking hoo) but he wasn't complaining about that when he was making millions of dollars on every record.

Celebrities are actually completely stupid, they do not seem to realise that the price for being able to go on daytime chat shows and spout their ludicrously inane opinions is that people want to know what knickers they're wearing and what food they throw in their dustbins. For all that they profess to be "really just normal people", they crave attention more than a fat kid craves chocolate. And to be honest, they make me sick (celebrities, not fat kids. Although I'm not really a fan of them either....). When will they realise that they can't have the world exactly as they want it, that every benefit has its downside?

That particular bitter rant was brought to you courtesy of My Overdraft (it deserves the capitalisation) , which is now growing at a rate usually associated with Chinese cities. Upsetting stuff.

In other news, I've just finished Steven King's "Gerald's Game", a novel featuring light bondage, a dead guy being eaten by a dog whilst his wife is handcuffed to the bed in the same room and a necrophiliac whose arms come down to his knees. Truly epic. Apparently, next on King's list of taboos to break is a man being eaten alive by his work colleagues to celebrate thanksgiving, which is actually based on the real life story of a Japanese body sushi (look it up) restaurant with a twist.

Song of the Day: Two Receivers - Klaxons. Guys, bring it down two octaves, then maybe people will be interested.

You've got the fear, but I've got the remote control for the bomb in your shoes

Instead of my usual pithy contributions on current political and media events, this one's going to be much more based around me. Seeing as how its my blog.... Now come friends, as we delve into the fetid depths of my psyche and compile a list of my fears for the summer/next year/the future.

• The weather continuing to flip between arid sunshine and tortuous rain, causing havoc for umbrella and suntan lotion salesmen everywhere. Until someone comes up with an umbrella that converts rain into suntan lotion, thus ensuring a continuous drizzle of white, creamy liquid onto the bearer of said umbrella, giving them an incredibly unfortunate appearance.
• Michael Jackson comes back from the dead, only to die again, leading to a second media blitz of unprecedented (except for his first death) and unwarranted magnitude. I still haven't forgiven him for dying 2 weeks before Bruno came out, denying us the unparalleled pleasure that would have been the extra 5 minutes of now deleted scenes. However, they could remake the Thriller video and it'd be far more realistic
  
• Football Manager 2010 never being released. A thought to make grown men weep like children
• Everyones' legs falling off simultaneously, leading to the establishment of a new ruling elite amongst gymnasts (the only people able to walk on their hands). Terrifying.
  

In other news....we've got an exchange girl coming from France, meaning (if every sitcom ever is to be believed), we are in for an hilarious week of pronunciation misunderstandings, and possibly even a few "cheese eating surrender monkeys" jokes. If we're lucky.

Song of the Day: You Held the World In Your Arms - Idlewild. If you ever have, literally, held the world in your arms, your arms are abnormally large. You MUST go and get that checked by a certified medical professional IMMEDIATELY.

Michael Jackson: Misunderstood? Probably not.

Michael Jackson is dead. I'll give you a few moments for that to sink in.




Calmed down enough to read? Now we can discuss what such a momentous event means for humanity as a whole. Obviously, anyone under the age of 16 is breathing a massive sigh of relief, and taking their shotguns from under the pillow and putting them back in the cupboard. People within hearing distance of the O2 arena are shouting for joy (I'm sorry Jacko fans, but he just isn't really that good. His most memorable stage event was having his 'fro set on fire as a kid). And everyone else is either shocked, unhappy, or not too bothered. And that about sums it up. Night.

What? You want more? Oh for f*cks sake its like half 11 at night. Fine.

Now, if someone says "Michael Jackson" to me, the first thought in my head is the episode of South Park featuring 'The Jeffersons', aka Jackson and his son Blanket. Its a brilliant episode, and i encourage everyone to watch it, having just had to watch the episode for "research purposes" (its a hard life). The second thought in my head is "I want food". And then I have many other thoughts, all at the same time, mostly involving accusations of paedophilia, high pitched squeaky singing, weird skin/housing issues and Thom Yorke, although as he appears in most of my thoughts (both waking and sleeping) its probably fair to discount him as irrelevant to the other three. Jackson was plagued throughout his later life with various child molestation charges, but not even I dare to make jokes about that (there's a high chance my mum will at some point read this blog, and who wants to have that conversation?). His singing, bringing to mind as it did 27 tiny mice jumping up and down on your eardrums, was a constant pain to me at primary school discos: y'know, the ones that instead of a bar had bottles of Panda Pop, and played the songs off of old Now 52 compilations, such that all the swear words were magically blanked out (which really ruined the Puddle of Mudd song "She hates me", instantly rendering about 20% of an already quite facile song meaningless).

But in all fairness to the guy, he lived in what was basically Disneyland. I mean come on. Who wouldn't give their right arm and one other random appendage to live in f*cking Disneyland? As George Best once said, "I spent a lot of my money on birds, booze and fast cars - the rest I just squandered". And that, ladies and gentlemen, is THE attitude to life. (George Best died in 2005, aged 59, after a liver transplant, of a kidney disease brought on by too much alcohol. Due to the number of Man United fans who might read this (2), I hesitate to use the word irony, but it is massively applicable).

Song of the Day: Beat It - Michael Jackson. The original 3rd word in this song title, "off", was dropped in 1993 after the first set of child molestation charges were brought against Jackson..... I am so sorry. I went through my (admittedly limited) collection of Michael Jackson looking for some lyrics to maliciously twist, and this was the least inappropriate joke I could find. Other examples included Thriller ("And no one's gonna save you from the beast about strike"...that joke writes itself) and Black or White, which in light of his later skin colour issues, was strikingly foreboding.

Exams. Done. 'Til August.....

My exams are finished. And one sentence never sounded so sweet. Like most of my university compadres (except Sam, who still has two left, which I'm not letting him forget any time soon), I now have loads of free time. Many people like to use their free time in pursuit of various goals, be they artistic, literary or possibly voluntary work. I'm going to be sleeping, playing Football Manager and practising sarcasm. 'Cos I feel I don't use it enough.....

In other news, the European election results are in, and they reflect the feeling that most people had, that Britain is in fact a country of racists and conservatives. "F*ck you Obama", we seem to be saying, "we're happy to be ignorant". The BBC News coverage of the elections also revealed what I suspected already: All politicians are retarded morons with the charisma of a dead fish. Case in point: the BNP's first MEP, representing Yorkshire and Humberside, Andrew Brons, whose acceptance speech included the quote "I think I can say I am one of the few people in this country who actually understand the voting system". This is a representative of a party who styles themselves as representing the views of the people, yet not even David Cameron has managed to (yet) come up with a quote quite so ludicrously pompous, and one that absolutely reeks of "fatcat-ism".

That's about it for now, as I'm not planning on wasting my "hard earned" free time entertaining you lot. Although given that I now effectively have three straight months of free time, you can expect more posts, which will more than likely be counterbalanced by a noticeable lack in quality, as all that will happen in my life will be a slow spiral into (more) slobbery and general teenager-ish-ness. But until then......

Song of the Day: Quicksand - La Roux. Whatever way you approach this song, its freaky. It describes a relationship, uses the words "obsessor" and, repeatedly, "quicksand". Whatever you do, do not visit this girl's house. She has terrible plans for you. Terrible plans.

Is Andres Iniesta single?

An apology to quite a few of my readers, but, on this night of all nights, I am inexorably compelled to talk about football.

Tonight was the second leg of the second Champion's League Semi-Final: Chelsea versus some team from Spain. I think they're called....Barcelona? Anyway, the game was absolutely fantastic. Chelsea shut out Barca brilliantly, Essien scored the sweetest left foot volley of the season, and going into second half injury time, it looked all over for the Catalans. But as anyone who watches football knows , its not over till the mistake prone 'man in black' blows his Acme Thunderer. And so it was that in the 93rd minute, the ball fell to a certain Andres Iniesta on the edge of the box. With one casual swing of his right wand (foot), he stroked the ball beautifully into the top corner, thus consigning Chelsea to another season of European despair. But in a sometimes beautiful, sometimes ugly, but mostly atmospheric match, football was the real winner. That and Barcelona. And me, courtesy of Chris' habit of making stupid bets.

Today was also exciting for a non-football related reason (if there can be such a thing). I was wandering around the Student's Union waiting for my more academically inclined friends to come out of a lecture (don't worry Mum, I wasn't meant to be there), when the building was stormed by more Security Operatives than are employed at Fort Knox. Feeling like an inmate at Alcatraz, I managed to look completely unshady whilst standing next to the noticeboard for 25 minutes. The police were called, and then, somewhat suspiciously, all clustered around the men's toilets. But eventually they dragged out someone more white trash than a pile of pigeon droppings. And that was it. Quite exciting really.

Song of the Day: Electric Feel - MGMT. Includes the line "put your circuits in the sea, this is what the world is for." Sorry to disappoint, but that is NOT what the world is for. The world is for watching Barcelona sweep all before them in a tide of the greatest football of our lifetime. Just sit back and appreciate it.

England, and why they definitely might possibly win the World Cup. Perhaps.

The Football World Cup. Unarguably the greatest competition of any kind (barring the Sheffield University Community Olympics). The cup where legends are made. Where nations are united behind 11 men striving to bring home the most coveted trophy in the world. And what better way to focus that desire than a song?

Through the years, England have had some great World Cup songs. Who can forget the inspirational 'Three Lions', or the simply epic 'Vindaloo', featuring the unforgettable line "Me and me Mum and me Dad and me Gran and a bucket of Vindaloo", which is a recipe for the worst evening watching football ever. However, there have been some misses, most notably New Order's 'World In Motion', which features the most execrable spoken word sequence (including John Barnes exhorting listeners to "get round the back") ever committed to tape.

One of the most vital parts of any World Cup bid (much more so than training or squad selection, or any of that b*llocks) is the song. Which is why, in the build up to England's inevitable qualification (see Euro 2008) for South Africa 2010, we must consider the possible contenders to write the official World Cup song:

• Radiohead: a masterpiece of a song, elegantly constructed and using a variety of instruments. It will be depressing in tone, which would at least prepare everyone for the inevitable quarter final penalty misery
• Kanye West: A hard-core R&B tune referring to "goal tenders", "making the play" and "line judges". Like the US football team, a little bit "sh*t"
• Edward Elgar: A stirring classical piece , much like Pavarotti's rendition of Nessun Dorma. Could be rendered slightly worse by the fact that the composer has, in fact, been dead for some 75 years.

So there are the contenders. Feel free to make your own suggestions. Or, indeed, don't. Doesn't matter to me. But I will leave you with just one piece of advice: Never, ever go to a party at John Barnes’ house without having the police on speed dial.

Song of the day: Flux - Bloc Party. Kele Orekeke takes a break from writing lyrics of witty social commentary to provide medical advice, in the form of the line "If your right hand is causing you pain, cut it off". However, after consulting medical professionals, this blogger has found that if your right hand is indeed causing you pain, DO NOT CUT IT OFF. Seek medical advice. Cutting it off will not only deprive you of a useful limb, it will, if anything, cause you even more pain than when it was still intact.

And finally, I think, a moment’s reflection for the 96 people who died as a result of the Hillsborough disaster. No-one has ever stood up to admit their guilt to this crime of negligence, and I can only offer my support to those families who are still fighting to find out exactly why their loved ones died.

Miley Cyrus, Superb*tch.

I've finally found someone more suited to my hatred than William Webb-Ellis (he invented Rugby): Miley Cyrus (If you didn't guess that from the title, now is probably the time to seek mental health advice). As you may or may not know, my obsession with Radiohead sometimes borders on the psychopathic. And to hear that this stupid little cow has decided to "ruin" them just made me... well, want to laugh really. To illustrate my point, I will compare Radiohead with "superstar" Miley to see who has really achieved more.

Radiohead: 5 platinum albums, mentioned by every band under the sun as "the band we aspire to be like", OK Computer is seen as one of if not the best album ever made, inspired people everywhere, and, in "There There", have possibly the greatest song ever.

Miley Cyrus: Shot to what can only laughably be called fame on the Disney Channel, dated one of those "so totally hardcore rockstars" the Jonas Brothers, has a father who sang country music for a living, and, perhaps worst of all, has been compared in musical style to Hilary Duff.

Cyrus' problem with Radiohead is that they refused to see her before their performance at the Grammy's, which was, by the way, amazing. Even Francesca, the most hardcore Radiohead hater I've ever met, admitted it. Strangely, it didn't seem to occur in what passes for her brain ("her" being, of course, Miley Cyrus, not Francesca, who is incredibly intelligent and definitely not holding a gun to my head) that they might have better things to do with their time than meet some 16 year old "celebrity" whose knowledge of Radiohead begins and ends with 'Creep'. Apparently, she was so upset at their rejection of her that she had to leave immediately, as she was "like, so totally upset and crying and stuff". And, she threatened to "ruin Radiohead", a sentence which should (and when i come to power, will) be instantly punishable my death.

If you think your stomach can handle the combination of pop bitch supreme, the most amazingly stupid DJs in history (choice quotes "Sex on Fire is, like, the most amazing song ever written" and "Who are Radiohead?") and some completely random 11-year old kid going on about how Miley Cyrus is "totally the coolest rock star ever", then I (with much weeping for the state of music today) point you in the direction of
http://www.prefixmag.com/news/miley-cyrus-kinda-hates-radiohead-audio/26644/

However, I do advise you to keep a bucket handy for when it gets to the bit about how Radiohead are "completely my favourite band ever" and how she would "like, quite literally, fall on my knees and cry" if she ever got to meet them.

Song of the day: There There - Radiohead. This song is written from the point of view of a man talking to a sociopathic tree, as evidenced by the line "Why so green and lonely?". But it is still absolutely sh*t hot.

You say party, We say "Oooh, go on then, but I'm not drinking and I have to be in bed by half ten"

Right at this very moment, the planet we are sitting on is whirling round a massive superheated ball of flaming gas at 65'000 miles per hour. Even if you are prostrate in a chair, can of Stella in hand, you are still moving further than most people will travel in their lifetime every hour. Just sit and think about that amazing fact for a moment. Or (more exciting option) move onto the next sentence. Its Comic Relief night, which means for once I actually have time to write a new post. Lucky you.

For those struggling with the new Facebook layout, relief comes in the form of news that you just don't have to spend the whole day sitting there waiting for your interminably boring "friends" to post updates on how their interminably boring day staring at Facebook waiting for their interminably boring friends to post updates is going. So just don't log in to Facebook, and instead spend your day doing things that your friends would be interested in hearing about, were you to log in to Facebook, which you won't be doing because you'll be busy doing things that your friends would be interested in hearing about were you to log into Facebook, which you won't be doing because.....

I'm so sorry. The amount of effort that has gone into this post was minimal. I actually just cut and pasted large swathes of the above paragraph. But then again, I'm not being paid for this. So if you've got a problem, just stop reading. Right here. Go back to Facebook and wait for your.... No. I'm not doing all this again. And besides, seeing as how this post will be going straight up on Facebook, it probably won't do me much good to go on about it much more.

Bloc Party Countdown: 6 months and 28 days until the headline "Mystery Fan impregnates popular London guitar band" hits all your favourite tabloids

Song of the day: Dog Days -Florence And The Machine. The Dog Days may be over, but as anyone who has looked one of these just a bit too clever for their own good creatures in their eyes before, the Horse Days are just beginning. To bastardise The Simpsons, may I be the first to welcome our new equine rulers into power.

P.S The title of this post, far from being a spurious, spur of the moment idea, is a meticulously crafted wordplay on the name of a popular Canadian 5-piece dance punk band. There's a lot of work that goes into this blog y'know.

Credit where it's dew.

Its 12.30 am on Saturday, and I'm alone in the flat, everyone else having gone to Space, gone home or just plain gone to bed. Its been a stressful week, saved by a good friday, and hopefully a good weekend (that is, one that involves Newcastle getting more than just one shot on target). And there's no Rugby on either. Which is always nice. But none of you want to hear about my week. Instead you all want to know about the credit crunch. 'Cos you haven't heard enough about it already....
With the present "Global Economy" possessing the same stability as the Chelsea Manager's job, here are Dave's Top Tips for surviving the Credit Crunch:

• Don't buy anything. At all. Scavenge on the streets for other people's cast off food. Wear bin bags, and sleep in the boughs of trees. In the (misquoted) words of someone or other, "A dog is just two meals away from a becoming a wolf". That has no bearing on this current situation, but it is something to bear in mind.
• If living as a well-read tramp doesn't excite you, try spending less money. Drink spirits neat instead of as mixers, watch TV with your nose pressed up to the shop window rather than buying a licence, or just take up petty theft to ease the burden on your wallet.
• Listen to the Pigeon Detectives' slaughter of Hot Chip's "Ready for the Floor" on the Live Lounge. Its three minutes of sonic horrificness may lead to some aural bleeding, but it will definitely take your mind off the fact that you have no money. In fact, all you'll be able to think about is getting as far away from the speakers as possible without crossing an ocean.

So there it is. Three guaranteed ways to come out of the Credit Crisis unscathed (except for your ears). Just call me Guru. Although I have just noticed a crushed Mini Cheddar mingling with the layers of slowly decomposing paper on my desk, so I'm going to leave now.

Bloc Party Countdown: 7 months and 17 days till Kele Orekeke mysteriously disappears.....

Song of the Day: Spiders - Editors. "With your back to the wall, Sometimes its all better on your own". Written after Tom Smith had attended an LGBT night. Now just imagine if I set up a Union night for Straight people only. Imagine the uproar. And now guess what I'm going to be proposing on Monday....

Am I insane? The talking candy floss next to me doesnt think so.

Insanity. Wikipedia defines it as "behaviour that flouts societal norms". When it leads to violence, it can be termed 'psychosis'. When shared by many people, it can be called 'religion'. Warning: The previous sentence contained views that are considered by some to be shocking. If you do not want to be shocked, do not read the previous sentence. Also, that line isn't my own, but I'm too lazy to re-read The God Delusion to find out who said it. And I only brought up insanity to use that line. I tried writing a whole blog about it but failed miserably. And I can't talk about the game last night as most of my (2) readers have a pathological hatred of football. Which, given my lack of social skills, leaves me rather lacking in subjects. And, to be honest, you should probably be entertaining yourselves, rather than relying on me all the time. So I'll probably just stop here.

Song of the day: Ride a White Horse - Goldfrapp. This ode to a drug dealer has everything: 3 note bassline, derivative kickdrum/snare drumbeat, and breathy, sounds like she's about to fall asleep vocals. As well as the line "feels like real leather" which, unless I'm very much mistaken, is a description if this man's skin texture. But it is really good.

The End Of My (Exam) Period

Sorry to re-use the pun in the title, but I felt it was underappreciated the first time round, and so generously decided to give you another chance to revel in its glory. Or not. Your choice really.
Today was an important day for many reasons. It (finally) marked the end of my exams, about 2 weeks after everyone else had finished, it was yet another day where I managed to walk through the ice without falling over, and, perhaps most importantly, I got Bloc Party tickets. Which is pretty cool 'cos, y'know, I think they're good. Like Franz Ferdinand, but with more than one good album.
I haven't really got an overarching theme for this post, unlike my other concisely thematic, semi-articulate ramblings. But seeing as how I haven't posted for a while and I know how you all yearn for what is effectively my mental and verbal diarrhoea, I thought I'd better put up something. Even if it is only this pile of.....
Unfortunately, due to exams, nothings really been happening. Hence the complete lack of plot, events or humour. Although I have just got MGMT's album which, according to John, contains "just 7 good songs".
Hopefully next week will be service as usual, as I finally get more than 25 hours sleep over the week. And I don't actually have to do any work. Fun times.
I'm so sorry for wasting your time with this.

Song of the Day: 19-2000 - Gorillaz. Featuring the lyrics:

Day-du da bop
Day-du da bop
Day-du da bop
Day-du da bop
Oh Yeah.

Which, when you think about it, really probes deep into the heart of the human condition. Great songwriting.

Scary Stuff...

I've just been trolling through some random blogs from this very site, and have discovered an inconvenient truth: when it comes to other bloggers, I am not in very good company. The majority I found were by middle-aged American housewives discussing their intolerably average middle-class lives, showing us endless pictures of their snotty nosed, ridiculously named (Ryne, Madonna) children. As if that wasn't enough, they seem to think we might be interested in their philosphical musings on what a snowflake is for, or what colour cheese sounds like. Those aren't real questions! The only slightly different blogs were one advertising home furnishings and another in Japanese discussing, I think, ways to rid themselves of the "Western Menace". I may have been wrong. So there you have it. When it comes to blogging, the only choices are Suburbian Americana, Japanese Genocide, or me. I think you know who to pick...

Song of the day: Supermassive Black Hole - Muse. Contrary to popular belief, this song is not about the celestial phenomena, instead using them as a metaphor for a (probably quite strange) relationship. Clever that.

P.S. To anyone reading this who has a blog, I didn't mean to imply that yours wasnt worth looking at. Just that I haven't bothered.

P.P.S. I just found this. Pretension now has a URL.

Festivals: The Argument.

In lieu of Biology revision, today I bring you a blog on one of the most important questions to have faced mankind in recent years: Are festivals (the music variety, not like a gay pride march or anything) good? As I spent the best weekend of my life at Glastonbury in 2007, it will probably be a fairly one-sided argument. But, in the interests of unbiased journalism, I'll do my best.

First, the pros:

• The Bands. All your favourite musical masterminds gathered in one place. Your chance to see The Who, Bloc Party, Manic Street Preachers and Klaxons (Twice). And all for a fraction of the price of going to see them all seperately.
• The Atmosphere: 140'000 people all there to enjoy the weekend. Like Bolton, but with nice people.
• The Drugs: Where else could you walk into a tent to find it literally packed with people smoking marijuana. Nowhere else, that's where.
• The People: smiles and happiness everywhere you look. The Outsider Indie Kid mixing with doped up 60 year old Hippies. brilliant.

And now, the cons:

• The Bands- Who wants to wake up at 10 on a Sunday morning to the strains of Kate Nash's unique brand of nasal annoyance-pop?
• The Atmosphere - 9 hours to get out of the car park. Enough said.
• The Drugs: After being sent sprawling into the mud for the 5th time by some idiot who's had one too many "Herbal Highs", it gets hard to see the funny side.
• The People: 140'000 people going without a shower for 3 days. Not too nice.

So, festivals have both good points and bad points. But they're still awesome. So, y'know, go to one. Go on. Right now. Stop reading this and go.

Song of the day: Hunting For Witches - Bloc Party. Kele Okereke once did an interview with NME about how he hated to be interviewed. I'm not sure whether this is more ironic or hypocritical, so I'll say its both. How hypocritically ironic. Still a great great band though.

That time of the month: (Exam) Period

I've recently had some complaints that I just don't talk enough about football, and as this is a subject of great interest to my one reader I will be spending this blog talking about the history of the offside rule, before moving on to the effect on the modern game of the Dutch "Total Football" system of the 70's, particularly as regards the Arsenal "Invincibles" during their infamous unbeaten league campaign of the 03/04 season. Actually I won't at all, I just wanted to worry you :-). Although, I'm not sure I can think of anything else to write about....

I am, of course, joking. instead my subject shall be procrastination. But then again, I might just put this blog off until tomorrow...

As you may know, next week marks the start of exam season at Sheffield Uni. Now the perfect student would have long since made a revision timetable, started their revision and possibly solved world poverty while they were at it. However, seeing as how such a person would undoubtedly have already been trampled underfoot by a mob of students off to watch the match, get hammered and fall asleep outside their flat, this week has instead seen a flurry of sleeping, watching TV and general time wasting activities. This week I have: played 4 consecutive hours of corridor football, raced a Tomy my first car up and down the flat, watched endless episodes of Judge Judy (she's such a b*tch), and sat for 45 minutes folding and unfolding a Galaxy wrapper, all in the name of not working. Which is unfortunate.

However, on the off chance my mother ever stumbles across this, I have been devoting my time wholeheartedly to revision, revision and nothing but revision. That and making swans out of tin foil.

Song of the day: Where I End And You Begin - Radiohead. Made famous for the lyric "There's a gap in between, where I end and you begin". Which is good. because otherwise he'd be some sort of conjoined fetus type person, and that wouldn't be nice at all.

Why Orson (the band, not the town in Pennysylvania) never really caught on...

(Conversation at Orson's secret hideout)

Right, guys. First things first, I've got these hats that i think will really give the band something extra for people to talk about. But onto the main item i wanted to discuss - the new song. I've had a great idea. How about, right, we go to a rave and behave like we're tripping. but, and here's the clever part, we're not really tripping, we're only acting that way 'cause we're so in love. I'm sure we'll get some inspiration from it!

I don't really know what this is about, but i got it in my head a few days ago and i thought i'd better write it down. So, y'know. There it is.

Song of the Day : Kids - MGMT. i love it.

Predictions for 2009!

Seeing as how it is now 2009, and I have nothing else to write about, I will instead make a few predictions for the year ahead of us. These are absolutely guaranteed to come true, and I fully encourage you to bet your life savings on the outcomes of them.

First of all, sport: Newcastle to mount a second half of the season surge which sees them win the Premier League, FA Cup and Champion's League, having been given Chelsea's place for being really really ludicrously good. Michael Owen agrees a new contract where he actually pays the club to play, and Shay Given is crowned King of the World for being absolutely the best Goalie ever. England qualify for the World Cup, but we lose everything in Rugby and Cricket. Rebecca Adlington makes a clean sweep of the Gold Medals at the World Championships after the other competitors refuse to enter the pool on the grounds that they might catch "Really Ugly Disease". Usain Bolt loses both legs in an unfortunate Jacuzzi accident but still manages to set a world record in the 100m, having had enough time to sit down for a cup of tea and to ring his Grandma before strolling over the line 30m ahead of the rest of the field.

Next up, celebrity: Pete Doherty finally dies, and in his autopsy doctors find that he was in fact controlled by one of those little aliens, like in the first Men In Black. This leads to widespread hysteria and panic. Police raid the offices of Heat and OK! Magazines to find that in fact every famous person is like this. However, it is too late, as by then they have advanced on Westminster and installed Kate Moss as Prime Minister. Fortunately, no-one ever hears her speak so life goes on pretty much as normal. in other news, George Bush decides to invade Narnia, before being told that it is, in fact, a fictional land. He still spends the rest of the year sitting in his wardrobe humming.

Music : Crystal Castles' Ethan Kath finally realises he is the only one in the group with talent and kicks out Alice Glass, who sets up her own group, Glass Houses. However, they're sh*t and no-one pays them any attention. Slipknot supremo Joey Jordison reveals his love for the work of Impressionist Composer Claude Debussy. The band revamp themselves as a nine piece Classical group, a move which, to some surprise, quadruples attendances at their gigs. Although seeing as how only two people in the world like them anyway....

Anyway. There will be more to this possibly but right now its Kettering v Eastwood Town. The most anticipated game since Bishop Stopford vs Comet Works Team. not.

And lastly, to steal Charlotte's idea (duh duh duuuuuuuhh)

Song of the Day: Helicopter - Bloc Party. 3 out of 5 may not be enough, but i'll settle for 1-0