Sunday, March 29, 2009

I know I won't be the first person to have said this, but...


–noun Informal.
1. an insignificant or bothersome person
2. a person who uses twitter

Monday, March 23, 2009


The bouncy ball said goodbye, to the shiny faced boy as he let it fly. They had had so much fun for more than a day, but now it was too scuffed and too dirty to play. It rolled out of sight and the boy didn’t chase it, as although he loved the ball he knew he could replace it. The ball stopped in a gutter until the wind hit a can, and that ball was kicked by the foot of a very angry man. It boinged down a hill and went very far, until it flew into the panicked glass of a passing car. It was flung into an alley were it rebounded lots at once, until it hit a fat cat’s fat fur that looked impressed by its stunts. The fat cat startled, jumped and span and then dashed and played with this little rubber man. The cat backed up and attacked again, hitting twice and twice as fast as it played with its new friend. The ball hit a bin and splashed in a puddle, the cat jumped away and got in a muddle. The ball rolled slowly to a stop with a wet line behind it, which lead neatly to the cat whose attention was undivided. The cat pounced, and jumped on the ball, and rolled on the ground, and then stood up tall. He batted the ball left, back, forward, down, up and right, he chased it a bit it and retreated with fright.

The cat bounced the ball until of course it happened, the ball splashed the puddle and the cats fun was dampened. The cat sat back and licked and shivered, disliking the wet his new friend had delivered. The ball rolled around not sure what to do, to cheer up this moggy who was now feeling a bit blue. Without knowing it though the ball had already saved the day, as the bin it had knocked down still had something to say. The cats little nose still snivelling and sad, smelt something it liked and suddenly things weren’t so bad. The cheese on the pizza that was open on the floor, would have been enough, but didn’t have to be, as there was much much more. The cat ate the food and purred as it was rich, and the ball watched the cat devour this very smelly dish.

That night the cat slept with the ball under his chin, and the purring and good times began to begin.


Tuesday, March 10, 2009

The G Word

So I heard, through a friend of a friend of a friend, that Gordon Ramsay is gay. Now I’m not saying it’s true as I really don’t know, and I really don’t think peoples sexuality is fair game in the news, but if it’s true it’s quite interesting as it raises larger questions about the media’s news sources.

Anyway, apparently the tabloids found out Gordon Ramsey has been visiting rent boys for years and Max Clifford stopped them from publishing the story by offering them a deal for better stories. The whole affair story was to cover it up apparently and I guess it was the beginning of the “better stories” he had offered. Apparently it’s common knowledge amongst tabloid journalists, just like Cliff Richard being gay.

If I believed that there was any motive other than financial ones not to out either of these “British icons” I’d almost be impressed by this media collusion to not print something that’s really not their business. But I don’t, so instead I’m frightened by the power of PR and threats of legal action to stop the truth from getting out.