Happy Friday everybody!

Friday, 31 December 2010

The majority of new years eve celebrations that I have attended have been family affairs, not always my family, but still a steady slope into drunkenness whilst the young teens get hyper from blue WKD and I gorge myself with Iceland party food. But this year, for the first time, I get to spend midnight with my best friends. Alas not my Lincoln ones though. (I have two groups of best friends, they only differ in my mind by geography)

I'm hosting a tiny gathering at my Mom's house (cause she's awesome like that) which shall be filled with drunken frivolity and fighting over who gets to sit in the beanbag.

Myself and Openshaw headed to Morrisons earlier to get the supply of alcohol (with a list of requests from people) and it was genuinely amusing to see how many peoples trolleys were full of alcohol. Not that our shopping was very classy.

omnomnom (note this is for more people than just me!)
Plastic cups and a plentiful supply of alcohol made it quite clear to the woman serving us how we intended to spend our evening. Ooh, that reminds me, I must find a pack of cards out.

So cheers, everybody. I hope you enjoy your new year's eve as must as I intend to, I hope over indulge and I hope you don't start 2011 with a raging hangover. Love you all.

Essay blues and an extensive post script on the subject of fried chicken.

Sunday, 19 December 2010

 was so positive walking to the library earlier today. For once I was actually keen to do an essay. I found the subject interesting and I felt I could get it all done and dusted in time to chill for a couple of days before heading home. All I wanted to was to eat, drink and be merry. But no, why did my subconscious have to lie to me? All this confidence (so I thought) but secretly my subconscious was running round in circles, having no idea what to write, whimpering something about Christmas puddings and cheese.

If I'd had prior warning of my impending writer's block, I could have prepared! I could have done more work on Saturday (instead, I nearly ate a chicken's spine*) and maybe I wouldn't have been so confunded today when faced with a blank word document.

I suppose I'd still be in the blasted library now if it hadn't been so cold. I suppose if I'm not doing work, it's better to be not doing work with a duvet and christmas lights, than on my own in a cold library. But hey, this is why I find myself writing a blog at this time. Once I get writing this, I get to writing my essay. At least, that's the plan.

*Cue anecdote: So, myself and the Joe went to KFC yesterday evening, because y'know, everybody loves fried chicken. After ordering a mahoosive pile of chicken we tucked in. Only for Joe to find, within a few minutes, a complete and miniscule spine within his fried chicken wing. Rendering it inedible and a waist of chicken. After investigation we discovered that my chicken had the same er... affliction. This of course, was not meant to happen. Damn creepily small chicken bones. *shivers* Damn kfc for being so tasty... I was certainly not as disturbed enough as I should have been on finding a teeny tiny spine in my tea. o.o And I could go for some popcorn chicken right now. :/

YoYos review

Wednesday, 15 December 2010

Did this review for my online project and was rather proud of it. Here you go! A review.

One Chinese buffet is much like the rest, don’t you think? You go in, you eat too much and then you feel a little sick when you collect your second helping from the chocolate fountain. Then after all that you can’t move and you feel like that third plateful took with it your soul. (Though you do smile with pride because you know how to use chopsticks)

But no. Yoyos isn’t like this. With the cheap price of £5.95 for lunch you don’t feel the need to “get your money’s worth”. You can even turn the Chinese buffet event into a quick lunch or a birthday celebration with Yoyos’ smorgasbord of cocktails.

In my opinion (Chinese food being my favourite food) the Yoyos buffet is one of the best I’ve been to. There is a wide selection on the buffet and in the evening you can request different varieties of noodles from the Noodle Bar. Unlike a few buffets I’ve been to the food is always hot and is frequently replenished by one of Yoyo’s army of waiters. And the food itself is delicious, miles above your standard takeaway. There is a strange and delicious beef rice which I’ve never seen anywhere else and is frankly fantastic. It has a rich flavour, nice chunks of beef and the rice is cooked to perfection. I also recommend the dumplings, though if you eat more than about three, you may not be able to move for the rest of the day. Tiny bundles of ridiculously filling yumminess.

One issue I have is when ordering drinks. Ignoring the rather pricey drinks menu the waiters seem to take forever to finally bring your (rather small) drink to the table. And of course it takes a good while longer if you order the free tap water. Not that I’m saying the staff are rude. The staff are all very friendly and willing to help, just not the quickest at bringing you refreshments.

Another uniqueness that Yoyos has is the takeaway option. If you feel like Chinese food but you can’t afford to buy a good range of dishes from a takeaway and sitting on your own amidst families and groups of friends doesn’t appeal to you then you can just get a takeaway box. At £3.80 in the day and just a pound more in the evening the takeaway box is the cheapest way to get a such a tasty range of Chinese food.

All in all I think Yoyos is great. An all-you-can-eat buffet will never be a classy affair, and most of the time you’ll find that you’ve eaten far too much. However Yoyos is a cheap, easy and thoroughly enjoyable place to eat.

"I could pull better copy out of my arsehole."

Monday, 13 December 2010

Since doing my online assignment I've become used to scrutinizing people's work. This also goes for times when I've proofread a friend's work. My own work as well, though i'm not the best at editing my own writing unless I leave it a few days and forget about it.

Though I haven't been one of the main editors for our group project, I've been dragged across to look at a paragraph from time to time and I'm rather getting into this editorial lark. It's clear when and article is unedited, there's a typo or two, maybe a spelling mistake, a couple of sentences that don't quite work. This is why we have editors. If you want your publication or website to look professional you need good editors. You can't just shove the article online and hope no-one will notice. Especially if the article is so dreadfully written that no amount of editing could have saved it.

Hmm. I suppose it just enrages me. I take pride in my writing but I don't expect it to be perfect every time. That's why I edit, edit, edit.

Damn those "lazy" protesters!

Sunday, 12 December 2010

Lazy, binge-drinking students should be working, not protesting

Hilarious headline from the Halifax Evening Courier that I found during some casual Googling. Quality local journalism they've got there in Halifax. This man is incredibly stupid. He blames the current economic climate on the fact that the people to blame (business men, politicians, yadda yadda yadda) used to be students.

According to Mr David Regan the current protests shows "the poor standards of some of the students attending universities today." I'm sorry, what?!

Mr Regan also asked some very (air quotes) "important" questions:
  • "Does Britain need all these universities?" David can't be doing with these new-fangled university things!
  • "Do we need all these students?" Nah, uneducated morons like you are all we need
  • "Are the right type of courses being provided?" I'm just gonna go with "yes". Maybe you should try one.
  • "Are too many foreign students being taught in Britain?" This is clearly relevant to the point you're making. Gotta love some casual racism in local news.
  • "If students are concerned about their money for education and all their other costs, who paid for trips to London etc to demonstrate?" It doesn't cost and extra £6000 to get to London, my dear chum.
A final warning to those students out there not wanting to offend Mr Regan. Please do not appear to be "dressed inappropriately for supposedly educated people". He gets awfully annoyed at this.

Urgh. there are some frightfully stupid people in the world.

Read the full article here if you can stand it.

I asked you to dance at the disco but you said no. Why did you do that, you heartless bitch?

Saturday, 11 December 2010

If I were to time travel, after the inevitable sightseeing (Renaissance France, sightseeing from an airship, quick hello to Shakey etcetera) I would return to early 2000, kidnap Charlie Simpson, preventing him from ruining joining Busted and therefore putting Tom Fletcher in his place. Then everything would be well in the world. Busted would still be together, Matt Willis would have never been on I'm a celebrity, get me out of here and McFly would have never existed. Perfection!

Yes, if you hadn't noticed, I was listening to Busted earlier. Oh teenage nostalgia.

I do love that no matter how long it's been since I've last listening to Busted, I still adore them and I still know every lyric. AND THE SONG WAS CALLED CRASH AND BURN NOT YOU SAID NO!! Why did they break up?! Bloody Charlie I'm-in-a-crap-band-called-Fightstar Simpson. *ahem* I think I have some unresolved issues with Busted. Oh well.

I rather miss these boys. Not Charlie though. Bushy eyebrowed gitface.

However, during some casual Googling just I discovered this article. New Busted material?! Though with them being 27 I'm not sure they can cope with the boy/man band switcheroo. Also, when I read the words "it's quite 80s, quite synth-based" I worry. I am worried. But excited. Any excuse for me to see those lovely boys again.

Oh the early 2000s. *sigh*

The future's students are gonna be in more debt but also it's Christmas soon.

Thursday, 9 December 2010

And this happened on the interwebs.

Yes, that is Snoop Dogg.
This is exactly why I love the internet. Yes, I love the people I've met and the fascinating things I've learnt and the wonderful writing I've been entertained by. But this THIS is Snoop Dogg in a freaking snowman jumper!

(This blog comes with a free joke! Why does Snoop Dogg carry an umbrella? .......fo' drizzle!)

I'm somewhat discontent.

Tuesday, 7 December 2010

According to this handy widget I know that it's -6 outside. That's -6 in early December... and the UK. I'm sure I don't remember weather this cold before. When I woke up this morning my friendly widget pal was telling me it was -11 outside. If only I have a thermometer in order to continue my new found temperature obsession away from my computer.


I never moaned about the snow because I loved it. Every little bit of it. The cold, however. I will moan about. When it is too cold to snow, and therefore, play and go for pleasant walks in the snow then I do not approve. In the atrium at uni earlier I could see my breath in front of my face. This, my friends, was just not cricket.

But onto the main point I wanted to make. Though it is horrible and icy outside the roads are now clear. All the ice is confined to side streets and paths. Basically a big "fuck you!" to pedestrians. So why the hell haven't our bins been collected yet?

The bins in the courtyard of my accommodation (Brayford Court)
It's nearly two weeks since the bins were last collected and I just wish the council would be a bit better at sorting out the backlog. Carholme road is absolutely clear of snow and ice on the road so I see no reason why they haven't sorted this out. It's bad enough that the courtyard is horribly icy but it's really not to pleasant having a growing bin bag mountain.

Hmmm... I sound like a bit of an old lady moaning about this. But I want the nice snowiness back, not un-emptied bins and DEATH ICE.

Now excuse me whilst I retreat back underneath my duvet.

I still think Spongebob is a paedophile.

Saturday, 4 December 2010

My default picture not a cartoon character, this means I want to abuse children. However, I did just donate £5 to the NSPCC so who knows?
Change your Facebook profile picture to a cartoon character from your childhood and invite your friends to do the same, for the NSPCC. Until Monday (December 6th), there should be no human faces on Facebook, but an invasion of memories. This is a campaign to stop violence against children.
What is this really trying to do? Are you really telling me that every person I've seen change their default picture on Facebook to that of a cartoon has really donated to the NSPCC? I really don't think this ridiculous so-called "campaign" is going to do anything. It's not as if child abuse is a cause that needs more awareness. We know that there are terrible terrible people in the world who do terrible terrible things to children and we have two major charities that deal with this. Children in Need and NSPCC. What about charities that don't get as much publicity? Don't we care at all about them?

I just think it's ridiculous. This isn't going to help anyone. This just means that when I look at Facebook chat I've got no idea who half of the people online actually are. No, you are not a Disney anthropomorphic creature, you are a university student who should be smarter.

This just gives people a chance to pretend they're doing something good for charity. No you're not, not unless you've actually donated or actually done something worthwhile.

Some sense from Reddit via the Daily What.
My fellow blogger, Jamesy McPollitt shared his thoughts on the subject on his own blog.

And let's end on a brilliant quote from Jonathan Holmes Esq.: "we could all change it to pictures of our arses to raise awareness for bowel cancer..." Just as ridiculous as the cartoons, I think.

Walking back to my flat.

Tuesday, 30 November 2010

Most Tuesdays I end up at Joe's on the other side of town. Then I have work (next to my flat) at 8am on Wednesday morning. So I often find myself walking across town in the dark of a Tuesday evening. For the first time since I started my job in the summer I actually enjoyed my walk home. For a few simple reasons.

  1. Snow. Though the snow causes chaos for drivers, as a pedestrian with no scrupples about wearing my wellies I'm sorted. Joe and Jerry are both tall... I am short, most of the time I have to run to keep up. But today this short girl had grippy shoes. Gotta love not having to run to keep up like a little child.
  2. Snow. Walking back at about half 9 the roads were already deserted. No traffic, just empty roads to cross with ease.
  3. Yet another snow-themed reason. The prettiness. Lincoln's not very exciting at night, until the cathedral comes into view, but even Portland street was pretty in the snow.
  4. For once I had someone to walk with. Jerry also had to get home and so I had someone with me. Plus this meant I didn't get distracted on my own and go play in the snow.

Rarely do I arrive home cheery. I approve of this wintry lark.

Winter Wonderland

Monday, 29 November 2010

It's not even December yet but Lincoln is already a beautiful winter wonderland. Yes, it's freezing outside. Yes, I'm constantly in so many layers I'm beginning to forget what my own naked form looks like. Yes, I've now learnt how to type with gloves on, I'm wandering around in my snow covered wellies, I'm avoiding plentiful icy patches on the roads and paths and my nose is a fetching shade of bright pink. But oh gosh, I am loving this. Lincoln city is gorgeous enough the rest of the year but add a blanket of white and a gorgeous clear sky and it's hard to be in a bad mood.

Brayford Pool (29.11.10) Credit: Me

Even though the next few weeks is going to be mental (many-a hand in, two jobs, christmas celebrations and finally home for the holiday) I can't see myself breaking this smile too often.

(also: couple of my photos on The Linc's website, here)

The first snow of winter and Lincolnshire Christmas Food and Drink Fair

Saturday, 27 November 2010

There is little in the world I love more than waking up to snow. It's one of few things that can happen that is so simple but makes me so happy. When I awoke this morning and saw this very out of my bedroom window, I instantly turned into a small child and squealed.

Not even snow can turn the Tanvic car park into a good view.
So, wellies on, woolly hat on and pompoms at the ready myself, the boyfriend, the flatmate, her boyfriend, the father and the sister headed up to the Lincolnshire Christmas Food and Drink Fair at the Showground.

The fair had a wide range of stalls with products varying from cheese, to sausages, to cider to little decorated egg cups. One of the meat stalls alone had 5 kinds of sausages, 3 kinds of bacon plus Haslet, a  kind of Lincolnshire meatloaf (which is delicious!). There was also several stalls with different ciders all off which we had to sample several times. Also, an adorable (and dastardly) girl sold me some cheese. Stupid cute children selling yummy blue cheese.

We had a right good afternoon and now i'm in a rather Christmassy mood, even though it's November. November is not Christmas, my friends. Do not listen to Christmas music. Do not put lights up. Do not decorate your house. It is not even advent yet!

So that was just a quick post. Well done Lincolnshire for your fantastic fairs... can't wait until next weekend for the Christmas Market.

Post-it note art

Thursday, 18 November 2010

I just found a delightful think on this here interwebs. Another sign that we don't live in a terrible world.

This man.

by John Kenn
No, not the man pictured. (Don't be silly, he has wings!) But the artist behind a series of post-it note works of art. John Kenn describes his mini masterpieces as "a little window into a different world, made on office supplies". I think they're wonderful, so simple but they create a strange world like a dystopian children's book that rather intrigues me. It seems like Where The Wild Things Are... but with less hugging. Kenn is an animator for various childrens' television shows and I for one would love to see these monsters come alive on a post-it note.

John Kenn's website.

An interesting interview with him.

"So where did you hear about this place?" "Er... a hedge."

That is not advertising, young sir. That is blatant, deliberate littering. I may sound like an old woman on this topic but this is a step too far.

I watched as this guy placed a load of leaflets for Goshi (a club night at Sakura) on the walls outside my student accommodation. Are you actually kidding me? Do you think I didn't notice the multiple identical leaflets that I receive every week in my postbox? We know the club night exists. Stop this stupid. Pointless advertising? Do they really think people are going to pick up a leaflet from in a hedge?! Not only is this pointless but it bloody lazy. I really doubt that Sakura are paying this guy to leave leaflets on miscellaneous walls.

Just after they were put there

Some time later... hedgification
I just find this such a waste of time and paper. These leaflets aren't going to persuade anyone to go to Sakura. Even if someone did see them they'd think they'd been discarded.

I think the dirty look I gave was justified.

Jumping around and sweating a lot...

Tuesday, 16 November 2010

Yup, that just about sums up Kinect. Though I'm not saying that's necessarily a bad thing. Within the first few minutes of using Kinect I was taken back to the  wonderment I experienced when I first plugged in my PlayStation EyeToy or when I first played with the Wii. Although without the painfully disappointing graphics.

I can't review the Kinect in any huge depth, I can't have played on it for more than an hour, not including watching my friends Jerry (the Kinect owner), James and the boyfriend, Joe on it. It's good, in fact, the hardware is amazing. It's incredibly responsive and even though you need a MAHOOSIVE room to use it in (we just about had enough space in Jerry's studio) I'm still impressed. However there's one big problem, and The Three Js agree. The software has potential but the games? Aren't that much better than we get on the Wii. They're arcade games, games you play with your family and friends. There's no games with any story, no adventures or campaigns. And anyway, how are you meant to shoot a gun or run around? Driving is strange and awkward even with the skilled hardware. There's no tangible controls so the range of ways to interact with the game is limited even if there is a dozen different ways to step to the side.

Gimme a game wear I can go on an adventure and cast spells with my hands, and fight people as if they were in front of me and then maybe we could talk. Bring the price out of the clouds and I'm getting more persuaded. But for the "next big thing" it's really just the same kind of device as the EyeToy and the Wii... but it works.

It's fun... but for £130 I want more than just arcade games.

On a side note...

Photos from the London Demo

Thursday, 11 November 2010

Click to go to my Flickr

"And so the advertiser wins..."

This is officially my new favourite advert. This even beats the BT saga and "bisquits!". When I next go and buy bread it shall certainly be Warburtons. Yes, well done advertisers, you are awesome.

UPDATE: Yet another awesome advert I've discovered today! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aom2wOqZo-I

My Millbank Experience (UPDATED)

Wednesday, 10 November 2010

I've now been up for 13 hours. 13 hours of coaches, fast food and one hell of a protest.
A/N: By the time I got home to edit this it was 17 hours and counting. Disorientated doesn't even cover it. I'm not good at this not-getting-sleep malarky.

52,000 people attended the protest in Westminster but the rioting that was all over the news was a tiny minority of people. Don't get me started on how many of those were actually students. Probably about 1000 people were assaulting Millbank Tower. And how do I know? I was bloody well there. Right in the middle of it. Purely as a journalist of course.

When I heard about the riot at Millbank the journo in my heart only wanted to be in one place. I headed straight to the building.

The rioting itself was in the centre of the courtyard, the outer area of the courtyard and the road was populated with non-violent protesters.

With a lot of ducking and diving I managed to make my way near the front, around 2 metres from the entrance. Next to the entrance was a huge glass door/window thing that was completely destroyed by the rioters. They got into the lobby and caused huge amounts of damage. It didn't take long after the entrance was breached for a few renegades to make their way to the roof of the building. The chaos continued on the ground floor though. A bonfire burned away in the middle of the courtyard and police were swarming through the crowds to reach the violence.

It was so exhilarating to be right in the centre of such a massive news story as a journalist. I got brilliant footage an images and saw things I'd only ever seen on the news before.

Now I'm back home (finally) I've had chance to watch the news. Some of the pictures are incredible. I find it strange that the crowd was so chaotic that though I was in the middle of it all I didn't see any of it. I just heard it. The sound of that glass breaking really chilled me to the bone. But more importantly than any of that I want to know... did it make a difference? Or did a few bad apples ruin the whole barrel. I think the news coverage kinda tells that story.

Dang nabbit, imma gonna get ma protestin' boots on!

Tuesday, 9 November 2010

Do I like having to pay student fees? Of course I don't. Especially on a day where one tutor rambled is way into a corner prompting me to tell him that "the EDL aren't a rock band" and another demonstrated such a complete smorgasbord of incompetence that I wanted to cry and bang my head repeatedly against my desk. And don't get me started on the god-awful computers in the newsroom that froze every time I had the temerity to click on something.

I didn't feel like I was getting my value for money today. But at the same time, surely the logic goes that if I'm suddenly paying triple the price for my degree then maybe I'll get better tutors, better computers and better sandwiches in the Atrium. Maybe if I was paying £9,000 a year for my degree my only issue with the facilities would be if I accidently orgasmed at the sight of a whole newsroom full of fast, magnificate and most importantly competent(!) Macs?

So why am I getting up at 5am tomorrow morning to wave a placard at some Tories? To report on it? Partially, I am a journalist afterall. To have a free day down in London? No, I have more morals than that. In order to skive off work? 5am, my dears, 5am is no laughing matter.

No. I'm going because of the principle. I know this protest won't do anything for our cause. I know enough about politics and economics to know that it's stupid to think the country can afford to keep spending this. It's a necessary evil. Necessary, yes.... and CERTAINLY evil. All I really want to do is let the government know, "you're spoiling the gosh darn fun of it all!"

Bullet, The Linc, an MP and I do some journalism.

Friday, 5 November 2010

Click to go to the original article on the Linc website.
I'm not much into news journalism. I like tech blogging, I like features. Running after people with a dictaphone and a notepad is all too effortsome for me. But last night I was in a pub up the hill and guess who was sat on the table in front of me? That's right, MP of Lincoln, Karl McCartney. Only a hour or so before had I read this article on the Bullet website. I managed to grab Mr McCartney for an interview to find out what he thought of the Bullet article. You'd think I was a journalist, wouldn't you?

To be fair I actually sympathise with Karl McCartney (moi!? sympathising with a Tory... where have my liberal beliefs ran off to?!). He was told the interview he did wasn't to be online until next Wednesday but it was essentially "leaked" to Bullet.

Hmmmm.... I don't really like the rivalry between The Linc and Bullet (and the SU). It's petty. But hey, I can be an unbiased journalist... even when it comes to Tories!

I annoyed myself in the writing of this entry... but I'm fine with myself now.

Tuesday, 2 November 2010

I started writing this blog.

And then I deleted it and started again.

I don't want to ramble all self-rightously. Which I was doing... for a much longer word count than this. I wanted to slap myself. And tell myself to shut the hell up.

So I'm just gonna say; I've lost weight, I'm proud of it.

Self confidence for the win.

New feature on Bullet from yours truly

Monday, 1 November 2010

Love photography, Lego and Chipmunks...?

I love it when the internet coughs up something awesome. This is one of photograph Chris McVeigh's pictures and after perusing his photostream I utterly adore this guy. Not only is he a brilliant photographer but his subjects tend to be made of Lego... excluding the chipmunk (which isn't made of Lego). He has a brilliant talent for creating witty scenes and stories just by positioning the toys in a certain way. I highly reccomend that you have a look through his work, it's a treat.

Rally to Restore Sanity

Sunday, 31 October 2010

The Rally to Restore Sanity finally happened. The demonstration happened yesterday on the National Mall in Washington where an extimated 250,000 people gathered. But they weren't shouting about terrorists or health care or anything like that, they want sanity.

The rally, led by Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert (in character as his satirical self-obsessed right-wing commentator alias) was a call on America to return some commonsense to politics.

On the website they call on people who if they had to sum up their political view... they couldn't. "That's sort of the point."

"We're looking for the people who think shouting is annoying, counterproductive, and terrible for your throat; who feel that the loudest voices shouldn't be the only ones that get heard; and who believe that the only time it's appropriate to draw a Hitler mustache on someone is when that person is actually Hitler. Or Charlie Chaplin in certain roles."

Stewart wanted to come out against the over-exaggerating American media. The Beeb quoted a Tony P, from Maryland. He said: "This is about moderation, and less about right and left. There is too much hyperbole and not enough sanity." Which I think describes it nicely.

It wasn't just about sanity though. The event poked fun at the extreme views in American politics. and it was also seen as a counter rally to right wing Fox presenter Glenn Beck's "Rally to Restore Honour" back in August and Sarah Palin's Tea Party protests in 2009.

This wasn't about politics. It was about commonsense.

The Octonauts: Explore, Rescue, Protect.

I'm sleepy, in need of a nap, but my body disagrees. In this state of mind there's only one thing to do... watch children's television. TV shows bore me, I don't care about the news and finding something to listen to involves far to much effort.

And so I found myself watching a delightful show called The Octonauts.

The show follows Captain Barnacles (according to the website, a "polarbear extrordinaire"), Lieutenant Kwazii (a kitten with an inexplicable eyepatch... he still has both eyes!) and Peso the penguin (who's apparently a nurse) along with the rest of the crew of the Octopod.

To be quite honest I was genuinely surprised about how much the pretty colours, and cute animation pleased me. I genuinely laughed out loud when Dr Shelllington (a seaotter) had his foot trodden on by Peso. Though that may have been out of fatigue because the adult inside of me was well and truly awake enough to be concerned by why an Octopus had ears.

My sleepiness had subsided by the time a narwhal appeared (Russian, of course) and I was suddenly bombarded with facts about narwhals. Damn children's television; I was enjoying the story about the Octopod freezing in the Arctic waters when it wasn't moving quickly enough and having to be saved like a passing narwhal. Why did it have to ruin itself by teaching me about narwhals?!

I know all I need to know about narwhals from this song, thank you very much, Aunty Beeb!

Blog your relationship?!

Saturday, 30 October 2010

One of the "assigned stories" for my News, Features and Reportage unit was entitled "Blog your relationship".

Blog your relationship?! I don’t think so. Yes, I have my own personal blog but my security’s tight. And I have a blog (here!) on an entirely different platform for my more journalistic ramblings. And on my Livejournal (my personal blog) I throughly vet anyone wanting to add my as a friend. You’ve got more chance if you live in a different country. But what about Facebook? I’m clearly in a relationship on Facebook and if something ever goes wrong in that relationship the break-up is broadcast to the world.

Has the “Facebook Status” become a milestone in the blossoming relationships of young people today? Where does dating fit in with being “in a relationship”? Should we even be telling the online community about our love lives? Or are we breaching our own privacy by moving our inner thoughts from locked diaries kept snug underneath our mattresses to their very own domain name?

Would you want a stranger reading your diary entries? How about your friends, your ex or even your boss? It’s not just your privacy that you’re toying with online when you blog about your life.

Popcorn, anyone?

Wednesday, 27 October 2010

Anyone fancy some popcorn? I just watched these sacks of pre-popped "delicious" popcorn arrive at the Odeon out of the back of a lorry. There's me put off Odeon popcorn for life.

Miliband Schmiliband: Should we actually care about the new Labour leader?

Sunday, 26 September 2010

The Miliband brothers: more than just a depressing look into Tim Henman's future? Or is a Miliband just a Miliband?

When two brothers, brought up by Marxist parents, both join the Labour party, both rise through the ranks and both have a shot at party leader can they really be that different? Well, apparently they can be. Simultaneously rising through the ranks the brothers remained on separate sides of the Brown/Blair divide.

Now, I've read through pages of information comparing the brothers and I think the party made the right decision. Ed Miliband is not a left wing activist but nor is he a Tory-smoozing let's please everyone politician. I'm fed up of politicians sticking to the middle ground. We're in a pluralist democracy and opposition creates debate and accountability. David Miliband wants to create "Next Labour" which sounds essentially like New Labour without the bad press. Whereas Ed wants to "rediscover radicalism" (Don't worry, not in a scary extremist way.) and I can't help but think, "Good on ya, Eddy!"
What happened to the opposition actually being the opposition?  My own beliefs are annoying Liberal.

Before the Con-dem coelition I was annoyed by the left-centre nature of the Lib Dem policies but now Clegg's turned into a Tory flag waver, I'm annoyed that they can't make their mind up. I'd be happy when the Tory's are back to stealing our milk and favouring the rich, when Labour are back to loving the NHS and the Libdems are back to.... well, they've never really been that Liberal anyway. Actually. I probably wouldn't be that happy. But at least I'd know where each party stood, and that it wasn't on the same square of pavement staring lustfully at that symbol of power we call Downing Street.

Apathy, my friends. This boils down to political apathy. What happened to huge ideological divides?

Everyone's singing to the same boring tune now.

Woah woah woah....... I live like on my own now?!?!

Friday, 24 September 2010

Credit: Brian's Guide - Grim and Proper

Okay, so maybe not "on my own" but my Mom's not across the hall. She's across the country. Which means she can't text me from across the hall asking for me to make her a cup of coffee. Though she also can't clean my kitchen. (Which is currently covered in glitter.)

And after over a year of this situation I think I just realised that I was in it. I've lived on my own for a year! I buy my own food. I mess up tidy my own room. I control my own money. I do my own shopping. And something that I think is certainly a self-improvement: I don't spend my whole day watching tv shows and perusing the internet. (Sometimes I go outside now)

On the other hand, I'm not here celebrating a year of choosing my own bedtime, making my own food and coming home at crazy hours. I had all that before. There must be some people who didn't have the independence that I had during sixth form who were chucked out into the wild world no knowing how to rustle up a pasta bake and rejoicing at the ability to not get up until late afternoon if they so choose to. I think my tiny brain may have crumpled if I'd gone from mothered luxury to being sat baffled in front of my cupboard wondering why I couldn't make a roast dinner out of some Jaffa Cakes, a mouldy crumpet and cheap schnapps.

I wonder if any people have come out of first year still not feeding themselves on anything more complicated that beans on toast, being miles into an overdraft they've got no hope of paying off without a job and getting their Mum to do their washing. I hope these people don't exist.

Kinda makes me sad.

There's something wrong on the internet!

Wednesday, 22 September 2010

Dear BBC, I don't think I wanna be your friend anymore. When someone uses the phrase "geek chic" I don't want to be their friend. In fact, I want to punch them in their pretentious face. And Aunty Beeb? You used that very phrase in this article. You've annoyed me enough with "geek chic", don't get me started on "nerdcore". This kind of stuff's been around for ages with artists like Jonathan Coulton and They Might Be Giants have been around for years. And it's only recently that the genre "trock" (That's time-lord rock) popped up thanks to a group of lads on YouTube.

"Geek chic" brings to mind those horrid club theme night that get those orange girls trussed up in school uniforms and 3D glasses with the lenses popped out. Excuse me while I heave. I know my own geek credentials aren't completely up to scratch but this is really something else.

image source

You're not a geek. You don't need glasses. You wouldn't know that Battlestar Galactica existed if it wasn't for The Big Bang Theory. And you're still confused about what a Cylon is.

I blame the hipsters for all of this. Micheal Cera too. I blame him.

</rant over>

The Applemath

Thursday, 2 September 2010

The techbloggers have been out in force over yesterday's music event and to be honest I can't see any conclusive opinion on the annoucements.

But as an update to my blog yesterday here's some links that i've found interesting.
Gizmodo's hands on impressions
A breakdown of what was announced (from Gizmodo)
What Engadget had to say
Even Aunty Beeb had a (mildly difficult to find) article on her website... Alas as dumbed down as most of her tech news.

Also, since yesterday I've learnt something... interesting. Apple's done something strange. And I believe, stupid. Ping, the new musical social network integrated into iTunes 10 does not infact have Facebook connect like the screenshots from the keynote promised. Is it really wise too leave out the biggest social network in the world?

image courtesy of Gizmodo.com

OHAITHERE Apple Fangirlishness, you have returned. You may proceed with the blog.

Wednesday, 1 September 2010

September 1st, time for an Apple music event.

So once again my fangirl gland will pulsate excitedly whilst I stare at a computer screen. Well, this time I probably won't have the luxury of such a large screen. See, Apple has done something a little bit odd for today's announcement. Steve Jobs will be presenting the event from far away San Francisco and the whole saga will be broadcast live online for anyone to watch. Well, not quite everyone, this is Apple afterall.

You only have the priveledge of watching live from an Apple product and as my Macbook is 60 odd miles away in Lincoln I'm stuck with the tiny screen of my iPod.* Oh Apple, you really need to stop acting like an upmarket, overpriced members-only club. Even if that's what you are. And if that's what you are then I darn right want a few more wingback chairs in Apple store.
*Let's ignore the fact that pizza stopped me from watching it live at all. Damn cheesy goodness

Give me a drum roll please for the big announcements.

What to do when you have writer's block? What else?! Write about your dreaded writer's block.

Friday, 27 August 2010

Why do you do this to me internet? I thought you loved me? I thought we were friends. Though actually, you always do this to me, you did this so much last year that I spent more time staring into your abyss than doing anything practical. Y'know, exercise, housework… my degree. Those things. Those things that designate me as a useful human being as apposed to one who spends her days sat in bed, laptop on lap, biting her nails and wondering why her eyes are feeling funny when she’s been staring at a screen for the past god knows how many) hours.

I genuinely blame my first year's performance on two things… the internet and what happens after a hefty night in Cubes. I suppose the internet helped me a little bit. I would have never scraped together 2000ish words for that god damn theory essay if it wasn't for Wikipedia. Though I think I’d still call that pass a miracle. And of course Cubes never helps anything. Far too many mornings after have been spent in bed. And then the afternoons after the morning afters too. God, Cubes, I miss you. You and your “ways”.

Earlier this evening I was in a wonderful mood for writing. I had a few blog ideas, maybe I’d even write a bit of fiction. The kind that sits in my hard drive and rots... but it’s still creativity non-the-less. And then it got me! Grabbed me by my nostrils and dragged me headfirst into a huge steaming pile of... well, I don’t really know what. I think I somehow spent several hours looking at apps. I played about with Firefox, adding themes, installing extensions... before I returned quickly to Chrome. I tend to forget that no matter how cute that icon is, I still don’t like using the Firefox browser. So a few hours of faffing and all I got out of it is that my windows can now “snap” to either side like on Windows 7. Oh time well spent. *snark*

After all of this ridiculousness I realised that all my inspiration had flown straight out of my window. Note to self: buy muse-catching net. Suddenly all the ideas I have merged into what I’m writing now.

“Oh I know! I’ll write a blog about my inability to write,” said I.

Good lord, I fail at life sometimes. This is meant to be what I’m good at and yet i’ve spent the last few hours lapsed in a zombie-like state looking through random webpages. FML. Or even, “Fuck my wasted evening.”

I think it’s time to get up from the snug surroundings of my duvet and pop to the shop for some fresh air. Maybe I’ll buy cake. Or a can of pop. Either way I’ll return, feel revitalised and write something... something proper.

Or maybe I’ll stay slumped here like a moron.

Or go to sleep.

Someone slap me?

A sports shop is not my natural habitat

Monday, 9 August 2010

In fact, I was expecting someone to punch me in the face for wearing a band tee. Thankfully I wasn't wearing eyeliner as to attract more attention from "The Healthies". I think my crossword, odd-laced Converses weren't doing much for blending in either.

I remember a time in my childhood (before I had access to broadband and a laptop... hmmm) where I partook in sports-related activities on a regular basis. I swam twice a week, my mother and I cycled on a regular basis, I played netball and hockey at school and rounders was a regular occurrence at Brownies and Guides in the summer. Adding into that my inline skates, my rather nifty foldable scooter and playing football with my friends in the middle of the road, running out of the way of passing cars, I was a rather active child.

*looks down at belly* Oh, what happened?

Okay, I'll give myself SOME credit. I'm not skinny but I'm not exactly a heifer either. That hasn't stopped me cycling more recently. Or stopped me contemplating sacrificing £10 a month for a gym membership.

I wish being fit and healthy wasn't so difficult. I don't want to run a marathon or lose a couple of stone... I just wanna feel like I'm healthy. It shouldn't be hard to be average. but gym membership costs, healthy food costs (both money and time!) and so does even simple things like running shoes, a bike or a sports bra to keep the ladies in.

Okay, so I'll force myself to make the effort.

But I won't like it.


Sunday, 11 July 2010

AARGH! AB Internet, please go crawl into a hole and never surface in the civilized world again. I hope you go bust, bankrupt and I hope you get god damn herpes. And I hope the ISP you use in your office, in your home and anywhere you want to check your blasted email is as dreadful as the service you "provide".

I haven't had working internet in my flat for weeks. I pay rent which is meant to include "highspeed wireless broadband". Actually I've had to check my emails on my expensive and poor mobile internet on my phone. I'm currently grabbing the chance to catch up on a few weeks of my friends' lives, various blogs and general social media in the library. Because of you, AB Internet, you worthless piece of luh-suh, you inbred, technology illiterate, lazy, only-working-9-til-5-monday-to-friday, pathetic heap of elephant dung, I am sat in the library trying to remember that I actually live in the digital age next to a horribly creepy individual, reading fanfiction, shuffling in his chair and making odd squeaky noises. I hate you AB Internet. I hate you and your lousy service and technicians with "AB Internet" t-shirts that probably cost more that the routers you use.

Now I'm grumpy. So I'm gonna buy an ice lolly and go to my boyfriend's house. Pip pip internet. Maybe I'll see you soon.

Switch it off!

Friday, 2 July 2010

Here's one of my pet peeves. Well, maybe it's not a pet peeve, more likely i've got some strangely specific mental disorder.

Basically I get annoyed at attention-seeking televisions. When I'm round someone's flat or house I'm endlessly irritated and distracted if there's a tv babbling on in the corner. We're not really watching it, it's just some 3rd rate "50 best/worse whatever" drivel or something offensive like Deal or No Deal or ITV News. But I can't listen to the conversation. I can't focus. My eyes are drawn unwillingly towards the television and I find myself watching whatever god-awful programme is on. It's like I've been forced to sit down an stare at the television. I can't help it, I get drawn to the television and find myself becoming completely controlled by awful games shows and pointless soaps. I try to tear my eyes away but I can't. I just get more and more irratable and frankly bored out of my mind.

But does this happened with television I like? No. And I don't know why. Put trusty old Dave on in the background, or my friend News 24 and I'm as happy as larry and can actually join a conversation like a normal human being. I've even in the past, when finding it difficult to get to sleep, popped on Mock the Week and drifted of the the wonderful Irish tones of Dara O'Briain.

Damn you television. Implanted in my mind the way your are is such a bother and inconvenience.

What’s it called? That thingy. The one they’ve all been talking about. Thingymagigle.

Friday, 18 June 2010

After visiting the Apple Store in Leicester there is now no longer a hole in my beloved Macbook. And finally finally I got my hands on an iPad.

Now, I knew from the start that the iPad is no real revolution, it's not a must have for everyone and it (like all Apple products) is utterly overpriced. But that didn't stop me from pawing over the damn thing, giggling and doing a little dance when I first picked it up. Then the Apple mist cleared.
Oh. "It's a bit heavier than I expected."

You can't call yourself a fresher in second year.

Tuesday, 1 June 2010

Good lord, is it that time already?!

It seems only weeks since Christmas and not long at all since I was sat in a McDonald's in Westminster reading an email that told me I had a place at uni. And yet tomorrow's possibly the most poigant day of my year. Tomorrow is my final exam for level one. Just like that! A mountain of assignments, a handful of essays, a dvd or two, 3 metric tons of takeaway food and a third of the world's supply of alcohol and here I am. Finishing level one of my degree. Oh my. I'm a third of the way through!

So much has happened this year. I've grown up. I've had ups and downs. I've learned a few life lessons. I've hurt. But I've also had some of the best times. I've made the best of friends. I'm in a proper relationship. (which makes my face do this: ^^ and this: :3) I've also enjoyed the cheap thrill of a one-night stand (or two). And learnt that that thrill gets old quickly. I've actually learnt stuff about journalism! I can now budget myself. I can also take (average quality) notes in a lecture. My god, I can even walk up Steep Hill without dying.

So now what? I've got one exam left and then a whole summer in which to frolick and play until second year comes around. With all the learning and the reading and the note taking and the oh-so-much awesomeness. It's all quite exciting isn't it?

Now to concentrate on my first hurdle. Revision!

mmmmm... pluralism

Anthony Horowitz, my hero.

Wednesday, 5 May 2010

“A commercial break! Quick! Kill someone!”

Anthony Horowitz, the creator of Midsomer Murders, Foyle’s War, Alex Rider and most importantly a scene in which two people have sex in a ball pit in (my personal favourite of his books) The Killing Joke. This evening I attended a talk by him (about his work and general awesomeness) at the Lincoln Drill Hall and somewhat drove my friends mad with my fangirlish nonsense. (Though all “nonsense” aside I would happy marry that handsome devil and his smooth tones and wonderful authorish skills.)

He started out talking about good old Alex Rider, the 14 year old spy who got him where he is now. Horowitz told us how he partially owes the success of the children’s series to J K Rowling. Without the Harry Potter franchise publishers would have never realised how popular children’s books could be.

In a Lincoln exclusive (that somewhat made my belly fizz) Horowitz read out the first page of the next and final book in the Alex Rider series. We follow the head of criminal organisation SCORPIA through the British Museum on his way to meet “the third richest man in the world”. Horowitz also told us how an old enemy was set to return. Now personally I was hoping that my darling wonderful (fictional) Russian assassin Yassen Gregorovich would miraculously return from the dead after being shot at the end of the fourth book. But a) Horowitz has now promised a sort of prequel in which we see Yassen at Alex’s age and b) the series isn’t suited to random resurrecting a beloved character. I intend to re-read the entire series over the summer in order to dejuce the mysterious returning foe. Because I’m just that much of a dork. smiles proudly

Good old (yet still remarkably dashing) Anthony went on to talk about his work in television, notably Foyle’s War and Collision. Now I’ve never seen either of these as I’m cough cough allergic to ITV though I may contemplate purchasing the DVDs. Horowitz’s take on the murder mystery genre and the curse of commercial breaks was somewhat amusing (if it wasn’t obvious please see the title of this post).

In the end this talk filled me not only with fangirlish glee but also with a few nifty facts about my favourte author. But mainly fangirlish glee… and a signed copy of my favourite Horowitz which is now my most prized possession.

Thank you Mr Horowitz, for such a delightful evening.

A bit of honesty, vanity and healthy advice.

Tuesday, 6 April 2010

YO MOMMA’S SO FAT...... oh, actually I can see the TV fine, thank you.

In the last few months my Mom has been going to Weight Watchers on a Wednesday evening. To my surprise and according to my Mom, it isn’t some kind of Cake Eaters Anonymous. It isn’t a village hall full of sobbing fat women, lusting over chocolate cake.

In the last few months my Mom has lost 2 stone and looks amazing.

In the last few months I’ve been living in pyjama distance from a takeaway.

In the last few months I’ve lost the confidence to wear my bikini.


I'd hate to say "I told you so" but...

I told ya so! I told ya so! I told ya so!


It's been some time since that long long night months ago that I spent waiting, not on the edge of my seat, staring at my tv, laptop balanced keenly at my side, but waiting tables at the pub where I worked on a busy Saturday night hoping that someone anyone would text me and let me know just who the new Who was. When the Who!nerd inside me just wanted to watch the announcement show, the waitress I was paid to be was rushed and checking her phone constantly.

I smell roasting!

Sunday, 4 April 2010

The chicken's in, so are the roasties, the balls are prepared and the sprouts are peeled and ready. Yes, me and my beloved Aunt are cooking our first ever roast dinner! So, I may have been living alone for a good six months... And my Aunt for a good er... 15ish years but this is a first for us. And we are proud of ourselves. Well, so far... We're only half way through and our balls are looking pretty malformed.

Life without the internet?!

Thursday, 25 March 2010

What's this? What's this? There's colour everywhere.
What's this? There's WiFi in the air.

Now, hold the phone… what's this?! 

click for fullsize

Is this for real? And I seeing this? Can I truly believe what is on my screen? Is the internet in my student accommodation actually finally working? Do I have full WiFi signal? Does the internet actually stay connected? YES YES YES!! Is it faster than old school dial-up? Well… I wouldn't go that far but it's better than a slap in the face with a soggy fish.

Things I hate...

Tuesday, 16 March 2010

  1. When people try and explain the meanings of lyrics to me. When I listen to music I generally listen because I enjoy the lyrics. Alas, my love of Fall Out Boy shows my music taste isn't exactly that of high art but the point still stands. I am a geek... I adore reading, writing and I have the somewhat rare ability to comprehend Shakespeare. Yes, of course I understand the lyrics of Don't Trust Me by 3OH!3!! It's one of my favourite songs... and frankly, has perfectly understandable lyrics. Even for the plebs among us. Stop trying to explain it to me. I get it!!
  2. Not understanding the boiler. I have a problem, okay? I'm not one for DIY, home maintenance and the like. My mother dearest is basically a walking toolbox... I've never had any need to know how to do things like that around the house. And suddenly I'm at uni! Suddenly, I'm standing opposite the boiler, scratching my noggin' with a bewildered expression on my face. And no matter how many times it's been explained to me, this is still one piece of fundamental knowledge that I can't grasp. Remind me never to live alone... I'd be a hazard.
  3. Too much pasta. Why is is so so difficult to measure out pasta. It's not as if it expands in the pan in any great way... It's just pasta. Why can I not judge it? I always end up with a gargantuan plate of pasta that well and truly defeats my eating capabilities. I'm not one to waste food but after I'm stodged myself to bursting I always regret bad judgement when I'm plastered to the sofa, stuffed with food and staring at Top Gear glumly.
  4. Improper use of apostrophes. 'nough said, I suppose. Yes, I'm a grammer Nazi. Eats, shoots and leaves would be my bible if I could be bothered to finish it. I would wear this proudly if I didn't prefer alcohol to buying random tees from the internet.

  5. Gaps in blogs. Ah, see here... this is topical. I hate that I often leave a week or more gap between blog posts and then every now and then post several within a few days. More than anything the untidiness of the archive bothers me. From now on I shall try and write at least one blog per week. On a Sunday... and of course more if the mood leans that way.
  6. Promising to keep to a schedule I set for myself. Oh the irony.

Tell me your odd little hates. :)

A Beginner's Guide To Losing At Poker

Thursday, 11 March 2010

Here I am, sat cross-legged, eyebrows furrowed, staring at an untidy pile of poker chips and I find myself in and I’m wondering whether pocket Queens are worth the imaginary money that i’m betting. It’s a Sunday evening and I’m been playing my first ever game of poker. I’m surrounded by a small selection of a student poker society, various empty cans of Carlsberg and a mountain of Maoam wrappers. It’s my turn to bet or fold. Jake, the player to the right of me picks up his cards checks them for the third time since he raised his bet. I think he’s bluffing. It’s now the turn of my recently appointed poker tutor, Ellie. She looks at me then trains her eyes on Jake. He checks his facedown cards again. Ellie folds. I’m starting to get a little nervous now but I’m still sure that he’s bluffing. I open another Maoam and stare at my cards. “Call.” Jake picks up his cards and throws them down triumphantly. The ten of hearts and the King of hearts. A royal flush. I look to Ellie for sympathy but she just laughs. “I told you! You can’t trust him!”

Something went wrong...

Tuesday, 23 February 2010

We're working on getting this fixed as soon as we can. You may be able to try again.

What are you doing to me Facebook? I thought we loved each other. I told you time and time again how much you mean to me. Didn't you get the flowers I sent to you? All those love notes? Think of wonderful times we've spent together. I've devoted hours to you and and does this mean nothing? You’re breaking my heart, Facebook. I’m falling apart and my soul is shattering into a million tiny pieces. How could you do this to me? We can’t go on like this... I thought you loved me too.

Choo chooooo!

Sunday, 21 February 2010

I wish trains still went “choo choo” for three reasons: 1) I like the smell of steam engines, 2) the interior of aforementioned steam trains aren’t a sea of plastic and 3) my impression would not only be adorable but accurate too. There’s nothing interesting or onomatopoeic about an East Midlands Train. On the other hand, I doubt a steam train would have had a plug where I could have charged my Macbook. If you hadn't already realised, I am writing these here words from my plush seat on an East Midlands train as I speed through the countryside back to my beloved Lincoln.

choo chooooo

A little more newsworthy?

Friday, 19 February 2010

In a bid to write an actually newsworthy blog I ventured to the BBC news website and had a little wander around. I found the headlining story (The Iraq Inquiry), lusted over some technoblather about the iPad, was sickened by a feature on Celebrity Big Brother but eventually I found this...

Since when were the love lives of swans newsworthy? I myself have doubts about the love lives of so-called celebrities being news (doubts in the form of "I don't give a flying f...duck!"). But swans?! Does it have an environmental factor? No... baby swans are fine. Are these particularly interesting swans? Nope, they're just swans. Is this happening anywhere interesting? Woop di doo... it's Gloucestershire. It's a fine example of those "and finally" pieces. The like of kittens up trees. I suppose most of them are a nice little moment where after the recession, various wars and natural disasters we can sigh and say "ah, the world isn't such a horrible place after all." But swan divorce?! This isn't a happy story... it's just generally pointless.

"Oh great... even the swans are getting divorced... now, where's the noose?"

A backwards move for blogging.

Wednesday, 17 February 2010

I knew it. I knew as soon as I saw that we would be doing a blogging assignment that'd it'd be a step backwards for me.

I've kept my personal blog on Livejournal for several years and when I saw that we were to do a blogging assignment I was thrilled. Overjoyed that I was gonna be tested on something I loved. So I decided to buck up my ideas a bit. I started a proper (mildly journalistic) blog on Blogger (though as you see I've now moved it over to Wordpress) because I needed to write blogs that didn't include so many "lols" "wtfs" and "omg there's this guy in my seminar who wears really tight trousers". Even though I still write a huge pile of drivel it's now more of a blog than a diary.

But no. Apparently that's not good enough. Suddenly, having had a blog before being giving this assignment is a disadvantage. I've been told to set up yet another blog because it has to be (inexplicably) started today when the assignment was set. Are you kidding me? You want us to be journalists off our own backs? You talk about blogging having no gateways? But by these standards we are only allowed to blog when you say so. This is actually ridiculous. It's stupid. This is journalism... it should be one of the most up to date courses on the university curriculum. Surely it should be the assumption that your students already have blogs? Not that it's an entirely new thing that we're learning.

There is absolutely no good reason why I shouldn't be able to carry on using this blog. It's not as if it has a backlog of thousands of entries. It's not like it's my personal diary. It's my blog that I set up in acknowledgement that I'd be doing an assessment on blogging.

Suddenly I've become incredibly restricted in something I love. My passion for journalism is about new media, social media, the idea that anyone can get their opinion out of the internet, the fact that I talk to people across the globe. The internet is the most wonderful example of free speech but somehow, somehow this has been has been completely ignored.

I've never lost so much faith in journalism as I have today.

Texting Protocol

Tuesday, 9 February 2010

Over half the population of our planet* own a mobile phone. And aren't they wonderful creations? You can contact your dear old mom from anywhere... not including lifts, the London Underground, the pointy bits of Wales and my old common room (unless you hung out of the window). You can text your friends from as far as the other side of the room, update social networking sites ("Suzy is on the toilet. lol" etc.), enter competitions, and when at my favourite rock club one can make a vain attempt at getting the DJ to play Love Shack. Then of course there's other things you can do with you phone: play games (I will never play a game that isn't Snake... oh Nokia, you genius), take photos of amusing placenames and phalic vegetables, bluetooth things back and forth endlessly and let's not get onto the possible uses of a vibrate function.

Didn't you used to love your Nokia 3210?

Nintendo 69

Sunday, 17 January 2010

I just watched Mario do an handstand on the top of a tree. And earlier today I watched two of my besties scream at the TV because of the infuriating nature of a game called Tertrisphere. “ESCAPE YOU LITTLE FAT FUCK!”... and the like. Why a little cute ball creature would be trapped in the centre of a sphere made of Tetris blocks, I do not know. And the reason for all these happenings? I did a wonderful thing in early January... I bought myself a Nintendo 64.

Yup, that's my very own N64