I might get a little sweary in today’s post. Basically, all iPhone users can fuck off. I saw you all yesterday on the tube, with your fat fingers gliding over the soft surface of your shimmering tools, white earphones plugged in with the long bright cord dangling across your filthy chests. Well fuck off. Fuck off with your apps and your wireless networking gps touch screen nonsense. Just fuck off.
I am tied to a ridiculously long contract with Vodafone.
Did some filming yesterday outside the BBC. BBC security, if you’re not familiar with them, are *very* good at their jobs – so good in fact that at one point I wasn’t allowed in. A few years ago this wasn’t the case. I once managed to worm my way into the studios after a particularly drunken afternoon/evening and found myself talking to some lighting chap about lights in a studio that Cilla Black was filming in. I then got kicked out by a friend who found me stumbling around the set. I got the tube home, which took three hours as I fell asleep and woke up at the end of the line (it wasn’t my line). Tubes are bloody horrible things. I haven’t been on one for quite a while as I’ve taken to cycling. Why do the platform looker-afterers shout so much at people to move down? If they were a little more polite and less like Nazis I might listen to what they say. I nearly got up to offer my seat for a pregnant woman but after careful consideration I concluded she was just fat, and that by not letting her sit down I was doing her a favour as she’d burn more calories. Aren’t I nice?
Sadly I haven’t had the time to be creative and do another un-review (see earlier Dragons’ Den thing) or write something interesting, but will do so on the weekend. I might write about Casualty. Or maybe the lottery or something. I haven’t decided yet.
Until then, here’s Matt Lucas and his brilliant song about Lesbians. If you haven’t seen it before you’re in for a real treat.
Cant Face 