On being quiet and being Jewish
23rd January 2009
Well hello there. Firstly my humblest apologies. In the first four months of this website I posted nine blogs of varying length, breadth, girth and insight. Since October I’ve not posted a SINGLE ONE. This is shameful behaviour and would be bordering on the unforgiveable were it not for the fact that no one noticed. If by some cruel twist of fate you did notice and have spent the ensuing three months pacing the carpet of your leather bound upstairs study, it is to you I direct my sorrys. I know it’s been three months since in my previous blog I waxed musical on the Brand-Ross fiasco and yesterday I drove past Jonathan Ross’ house, surrounded as it was by paparazzi after the recording of his comeback show that morning.
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On me dad
28th September 2008
Hello, I’ve just entered the 21st century. The other week, after watching a documentary called 9/11 Hotel on video (yes, video), my old-fashioned cathode ray TV went **POP** and filled the room with fragrance de burning plastic. It was ten years old and was bought for me by my kindly grandmother (thanks gran) when I moved out of her flat and moved in with my mate Naughty Nick.
On self-promotion
3rd September 2008
The other day I was strolling down the street, minding my own business, when I bumped into Lindsay Lohan. “Hi Lindsay,” I said. “What you up to?” “Not much,” she replied, “just walking my dog. His name’s ‘9/11 Conspiracy Theories’ – do you want to pet him?” “Sure,” I said. So I patted Lindsay’s dog. Suddenly, and somewhat unexpectedly, the dog started talking. “We’re on our way to see Britney Spears,” the dog said. “She’s got some Free Porn.” “Oh,” I replied. “That’s nice.” “Sure is,” said the dog. “Then we’re stopping in for a drink with Amy Winehouse.” “Does she live round here?” I enquired. “Sure does,” said the dog. “Right over there. World Trade Centre 7.” And with that we walked off into the sunset.
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On Stanley Kubrick (and my father)
19th July 2008
Last week on More4 there was a fascinating documentary entitled, ‘True Stories: Stanley Kubrick’s Boxes’. For reasons I will shortly explain, this excited me so much that I actually cancelled on a friend in order to stay in and watch it. Bad form I know, but, hey, you know, sometimes, in life, one has to, you know, just punctuate everything with a comma.
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On public cussing
10th July 2008
The other day I got on the tube at London Bridge and sat on a seat sodden with piss. Absolutely brinking with the stuff it was. Meniscusing. I shot up, swore, glared at the people around me who may have known that the seat was wet but didn’t think to mention it, and found a different seat in a different carriage. Continue Reading
On nothing
22nd June 2008
Hello and good day. At least I trust it’s a good day wherever you are. This end it’s rather miz – drizzly, grey and overcast. Plus I must confess to being mildly hung-over. Still, that’s what you get for drinking in moderation.
Since this is my first ever blog, a spot of housekeeping. Would all of you please make a note of the emergency exits such that if things become too boring, repetitive, repetitive or self-indulgent, you can make a bolt for it. Also, you’ll have to provide your own tea bags. I’m looking into making teabags available as attachments but for now you’ll have to bring your own.
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