Scary Story
Last night I woke up to the eerie, unmistakable whiff of Tresemmé shampoo, almost as if I hadn't washed it out of my hair properly when I'd showered earlier in the day. Even more peculiarly, I was guided to the fridge by a ghostly desire for a sleepy cheese sandwich. Spooky right? Inspired, I wrote a short horror story on Twitter before falling back to sleep. I'm posting it again so that normal people who aren't awake at dicks o'clock can see it.
But what's even scarier is what I found on my iPad this morning.
BUT I DIDN'T EVEN SET ROBIN WALLIANS AS MY IPAD.
Fuck You London
Buckingham Palace is the official London residence of the British monarch. Located in the City of Westminster, the palace is a setting for state occasions and royal hospitality. It has been a rallying point for the British people at times of national rejoicing and crisis. Fuck you Buckingham Palace.
Nelson's Column is a monument in Trafalgar Square in honour of Admiral Nelson. The column was built between 1840 and 1843 to commemorate Nelson's death at the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805. The 5.5 m (18 ft) statue of Nelson stands on top of a 46 m (151 ft) Foggintor granite column. The statue faces south looking towards the Admiralty and Portsmouth where Nelson's & the Royal Navy Flagship HMS Victory is docked, with the Mall on his right flank, where Nelson's ships are represented on the top of each flagpole. Fuck you Nelson's Column.
The National Gallery in London was founded in 1824 and houses a rich collection of over 2,300 paintings dating from the mid-13th century to 1900 in its home on Trafalgar Square. The gallery is an exempt charity, and a non-departmental public body of the Department for Culture, Media and Sport. Its collection belongs to the public of the United Kingdom and entry to the main collection (though not some special exhibitions) is free of charge. Fuck you The National Gallery.
Big Ben is the nickname for the great bell of the clock at the north end of the Palace of Westminster in London, and is generally extended to refer to the clock or the clock tower as well. It is the largest four-faced chiming clock and the third-tallest free-standing clock tower in the world. The clock was completed on April 10, 1858. Fuck you Big Ben.
The London Eye is the tallest Ferris wheel in Europe, and the most popular paid tourist attraction in the United Kingdom, visited by over 3.5 million people annually. When erected in 1999, it was the tallest Ferris wheel in the world, until surpassed first by the 160 m (520 ft) Star of Nanchang in 2006, and then the 165 m (541 ft) Singapore Flyer in 2008. It is still described by its operators as "the world's tallest cantilevered observation wheel" (as the wheel is supported by an A-frame on one side only, unlike the Nanchang and Singapore wheels). Fuck you The London Eye.
Tate Modern is a modern art gallery located in London, England. It is Britain's national gallery of international modern art and forms part of the Tate group (together with Tate Britain, Tate Liverpool, Tate St Ives and Tate Online). It is the most-visited modern art gallery in the world, with around 4.7 million visitors per year. It is based in the former Bankside Power Station, in the Bankside area of Central London. Fuck you Tate Modern.
If you would like to say "fuck you" to London too, this is probably the best route to take.
Hey kids check out the cool new Nintendogs update
Life is hard, death is easy, the moment between is toughest of all. Not the exact moment of course, it’s not like you have to actually do anything when you die. All you have to do is stop doing something you didn’t realise you were even allowed to stop doing. In that sense the moment between life and death is probably a quiet relief, like letting out a tiny fart you’d been unknowingly holding in for seventy years. Except the fart is your soul? Death is confusing.
Why am I so big.
Dogs die just like people. It’s important to know that before you get one. Arthur Guinness signed a 9000 year lease when he opened the Guinness Brewery. If he’d been taking out a lease on a dog, that would be far too much to presume of the dog’s longevity, which is rarely more than 20 years (depending on the breed). Not only would a 9000 year old dog be very dead, it would have almost entirely ceased to exist unless you properly mummified it. The oldest mummies are about 5000 years old, and some of them are in pretty good shape. None of them are alive though, except in films like The Mummy, The Mummy Returns and The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor.
My point is, buying a dog isn’t like buying an international prototype kilogram (the standard kilogram by which the measurement is defined). Unlike that uniquely dependable cylinder of platinum and iridium, a dog will, selfishly or otherwise, eventually expire. Also unlike the cylinder, it will change its weight constantly throughout its life, refusing to act as a benchmark for anything other than the innate unreliability of dogs.
Useless, now.
Today’s Nintendogs + Cats SpotPass update rectifies this particular oversight. Previously, dogs would maintain their “puppy” state indefinitely, defying the passage of time and the gnarled hand of the ghastly Doctor Clocks: Arbiter of Years. They’d never grow old, they’d never die, they would never experience pain or sadness. How could they be content with life, these pups, when they could not consider the harrowing abyss of post-death nothingness? It was an idealised view of dog ownership, and irresponsible, some might argue. I might argue that. When you adopt a puppy, you should be prepared to take on the invisible anchor of responsibility that comes chained to its tiny adorable face.
But that’s changed, now, as your Nintendogs age rapidly, lasting perhaps four or five weeks before reaching old age. Marvel as your puppies become less playful, less energetic, less curious. Gasp as incontinence sets in, and how years of house training now instills in them an unwarranted sense of guilt, embarrassment and fear of disapproval with each accidental puddle they create. Those years of teaching your dog that weeing indoors isn’t acceptable cannot be undone or altered. It’s all he can do to stare at the widening damp patch in horror, his doggy brain conjuring up images of your shrieks of rage, your wagging finger. He paws at the “outside door”, accepting his imagined punishment, while you desperately attempt to console him. No, dog. It’s okay. You can stay inside. You can’t help it any more.
I am massive.
Ageing is not a easy concept for a dog to understand. He’s still a puppy behind those chestnut eyes, wondering why he can’t fit on your lap any more. Wondering why his legs don’t work the way they used to, why his toys have become so small, why nobody picks him up, why nobody plays. At least he can see what’s on the table now, he thinks to himself. Thank goodness the table’s changed size, and I can see all the treats that are kept there, and sit, and wait, and hope to have a taste.
Finally, unexpectedly, the day comes when it’s time for him to go. Nintendogs + Cats handles this with silent dignity and surprising maturity, with your dog rising to his feet, steadying himself and taking some uncertain steps towards the garden. You have no control at this point, the touchscreen greys out, oblivious to your frantic tapping. “Please,” you mutter, a lump forming in your throat, “Not now, please. Please let me pet him.”
He’s already gone. Too late. It’s always too late.
He ambles towards the horizon, turning just once to face the player. “Woof,” he woofs. It’s not a sad woof, nor is it a happy woof, but it’s a woof so engorged with feeling and canine emotion that not a single man, woman or child will fail to burst into a week of tears at the sound of it. He turns away for the last time, and continues his journey into the great beyond. The camera pans across your now empty room, coming to rest on a spot on the floor.
It’s a present.
You open it.
An awkwardly scrawled note is inside, you recognise a familiar pawprint.
“I always loved you.”
Found a Streetview Dog
Here he is. He lives on Lettermullen and he loves Google Cars. But why won't the Google Car stop for him? This was his one chance.
Lettermullen is in a Gaeltacht, which means this dog speaks Irish! If you want him to sit down you'd have to say "suigh síos". It's the only way he'd understand. If you want him to close a door you couldn't say "close the door please dog", you'd have to say "dún an doras madra, má sé do thoil é". If you wanted to say the word "window" to him, you'd have to say "fhuinneog". There is literally no other option, so don't confuse him.
Tesco Pizza Review
Hey guys so as you know Tesco changed the recipe for their ham and mascarpone pizza. Here is everything you need to know about the new improved pizza in my video!
Okay! Thanks guys.
Lost Babies Mystery Explained
Since the series began in 2004, nearly all of Lost's characters have seen their names plastered across dramatically increasing numbers of babies in the United States. I've made a crappy graph to show you what's what in the world of people naming their children after made up people inside their television. (Omitted are very popular names like Jack and John and Ben, which aren't good indicators of how crazy somebody is. If somebody named their kid Ben, for example, you probably wouldn't scream "LOL WHY DON'T YOU GO LIVE ON A MAGICAL ISLAND YOU NERD" at them).
Between the show's first airing and 2009, most of the characters' names saw an increase in popularity. Those that didn't were already popular names to begin with, so the only real exception is Shannon, whose popularity plummeted after 2004 (this is mostly because her character is a bit of an arsehole). SHUT UP HERE IS THE FACT BOX.
Sawyer / +116% to 202nd
Juliet / +103% to 319th
Claire / +85% to 53rd
Miles / +36% to 162nd
Charlie / +28% to 274th
Desmond / +21% to 384th
Aaron / -2% to 54th
Kate / -8% to 89th
Hugo / -11% to 409th
Shannon / -55% to 565th
Sawyer is now the 202nd most popular baby name in the United States. The 201st is Stephen. Nobody has called a baby "The Black Smoke Monster" yet.
#blindcat
I asked Twitter to draw cats with their eyes closed and oh god look what everybody did:
Bison Dollars Currency Converter
I'm sorry about the video quality, but the audio is fine. When it looks like Sagat is talking, M. Bison is talking. And sometimes the other way round too. Also when M. Bison says "twenty" in a girl's voice that's not him.
As you can see, converting from Bison Dollars to British Pounds is a complicated task, as the exchange rate is mostly dependent on whether or not M. Bison has yet kidnapped the Queen. To help you (and Sagat!) with the conversion, Log and I have put together this handy cut-out-and-keep conversion tool.
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BISON DOLLARS CURRENCY CONVERTER
Insert your Bison Dollars here:
How much are my Bison Dollars worth:
--AWAITING BISON DOLLARS INPUT--
Byzantine Woman Part Two
"Ahhhhhhh," screamed Byzantine Woman. "Ahhhhhhhh."
"Hey there, Byzantine Woman reporting for duty."
"What is the matter?" asked her husband, whom she had roused from his sleep. He was squat and hirsute, but damningly attractive. Byzantine Woman loved him furiously.
"I had that dream again," admitted Byzantine Woman. "The one where I'm in the Battle of Levounion, and one of those dastardly Pechenegs runs up to me and punches me on the nose." She was saying all of this in Greek, because that was the language she and everybody else in Byzantium spoke in the year that it was, which was 1099. "It's strange how other people call this city Constantinople," she cried as she rolled over to turn away from her husband, who was now proudly standing on the bed and glaring down at her.
"I have to go to work," he announced dryly. "I have to go to work as a pedlar down by the Hagia Sophia, the largest cathedral in the world. It will probably remain so for another 400 years, I suppose." He turned and strode purposefully off the bed. "Now don't you have any more bad dreams about the Pechenegs. What if Alexios I Komnenos heard you talking like that? Ha! Ha!" He slipped into his robes and his chlamys (a type of cloak that goes over the left shoulder) before marching out the door. Byzantine Woman was alone in bed now. She didn't have a duvet. She had a coarse blanket made from wool and, I think, linen.
"Hi, I defeated the Pechenegs with the help of my Cuman allies."
Byzantine Woman extricated herself from her bed. "Terracotta tiles!" she exclaimed as she padded her feet excitedly on the bedroom floor, which was like many floors of the time. As she crossed the room she passed the window. "No glass," she muttered thoughtfully as she placed her hands on her hips and swivelled, first left, and then right, surveying her surroundings until her attention returned to the window. The shutters were open, so she cheerfully gazed down at the busy street below. She didn't have anything to do today save some shopping at the market, which she'd do by putting things in a pot that she would carry on her head.
"Oh what," breathed Byzantine Woman as she narrowed her eyes. She thought she had seen a dog staring at her from the stone-paved road, but it was obscured now by the hustle and bustle. But there! An opening in the crowd revealed the dog once more! "Jeez oh jeez," whispered Byzantine Woman as the dog's eyes continued to burrow into her very consciousness. Burrowing, burrowing, burrowing. She was transfixed!
The dog on the street, still staring, began to slowly open its mouth.
Get a grip! Byzantine Woman!
Byzantine Woman could not look away. It was as though her head was trapped in a tightening vice. A faltering step backwards left the dog still in full view. The crowd and the street had faded to nothing, and the dog had become a flickering harbinger of death. The maw was fully open now. Screaming filled the ears of Byzantine Woman. The dog was in the room with her. Now the room was gone. The dog remained, staring. Now the dog was gone. But there was still the screaming. Then the dog came back.
"Ahhhhh," screamed Byzantine Woman. "Ahhhhhhhhh the dog!"
"WHAT'S WRONG?" shouted her husband as he shook her back into wakefulness. It had all been a nightmare. "DOGS HAVE SO MUCH RABIES IN THIS CENTURY."
WHAT WILL BECOME OF BYZANTINE WOMAN FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON BYZANTINE WOMAN
My ‘New Email’ Sound
I rediscovered it after two years of wondering why one morning when I came into work somebody had made it so that my PC couldn't make any sounds at all any more!
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You have mail! Hahahahaha. Quack quack. Love it.