Friday, 29 October 2010

Billy Bullshit

'A compendium of complete and utter bollocks from out of the mouths of idiots…'

This is solid gold - the world is clearly full of people who are basically Jay from The Inbetweeners. Click here to see.

Wash Your Balls

Joy from My Name is Earl stretches the 'dirty balls' gag to breaking point.

X Factor Compactor

This is great - swap the features of the X Factor judges around to create freaky hybrids. Click the image to have a go.

Super Massive Raver vs. Diana Vickers

This is confusing, but I think I like it.

Dead Homer Society

I love The Simpsons. Always have. But being a Simpsons fan is a minefield; you see, I enjoy it now as much as I ever did, but there's an army of militant Springfieldites who maintain that the recent iterations bear no relation to the series of yore. Take Dead Homer Society - their manifesto lists the series thus:

Seasons 1-6 – The Simpsons
Season 7 – One Bad Episode
Seasons 8-11 – Mayday, Mayday, we’re going down!
Season 12+ – Zombie Simpsons. It has no pulse and no intelligence but it just won’t fucking die.

I don't necessarily agree... but I do love their site. Every new post evokes a memory of youth. It's lovely. Click here.

Blackadder - Comic Relief special

I have no idea how this footage evaded me for all these years. (Perhaps because I find eight-hour telethons intolerable?) It was nice to happen upon a little snippet of Blackadder that was hitherto unseen, by me at least.

Retro ads

A couple of old adverts I stumbled upon recently, with no connection to one another whatsoever beyond being adverts and having happened in the past.

Half-Baked Beings

Very sweet. Click here.

Episode V: How it should have ended

This is just lovely. There's plenty more here too.

Tim Knoll - BMX

This is kind of unusual...

Tim Knoll BMX from tim knoll on Vimeo.

29/10/10 - Why I like cars

People often ask me what the whole car obsession’s all about. After all, they’re just things. How can I be so relentlessly, unstoppably captivated by machinery, metal and plastic, oil and rubber? Well, there are a number of reasons. And for the sake of catharsis, this week’s JuicyPips will explore some of these possible triggers, tales and stimuli that, to be honest, will probably be pretty boring for you but might be quite helpful for my brainbox. So, why am I so into cars and stuff?

My dad had something to do with it
My old man always had interesting cars when I was growing up. He was way handier and more practical than me and could usually be found lying under the car, covered in oil and swearing at stiff bolts or contentedly carrying out some maintenance task or other. From the age of around two until I was eight we lived in Hampshire, and I remember my dad having an Austin Mini, a Mazda Montrose, an Austin Princess and a mkV Ford Cortina 2.3 V6. After that we moved to Kent and I remember his car collection with more clarity. Over the years he had a Citroën CX Pallas, an Alfa Romeo 33 Gold Cloverleaf, a Saab 900 Turbo, a mkI Vauxhall Cavalier 2000GLS (a proper 1980-model Cavalier that was all chrome and Rostyles), a Citroën XM, a Rover Vitesse… he even built a kit car; a replica Aston Martin Volante Vantage based on a mkII 3.0 Capri – a car that he gave me and, to my eternal shame, I sold (although it does now live at Brooklands Museum giving rides around the banking in school holidays, which is some consolation). Even now he drives a ’74 Citroën DS. I didn’t have a chance. It was largely his fault.

Something must have clicked in my brain at an early age
One of my earliest memories – I can’t remember how old I was, but very, very young indeed – is being asked what I wanted for Christmas. I said ‘I want two cars and one road’. Sure enough, I got a set of ‘Crack-Ups’- two Matchbox cars with rotating panels, so they look like normal cars but transform into damaged ones when you crash them into each other. My parents still have them somewhere.
My special ninja skill when I was a kid was an uncanny ability to name the make and model of a car from a distance in the dark, just from the shape of its tail-lights. I really should have gone on You Bet. (Incidentally, I can still do this. I just don’t tell people.)

I was a lonely kid
I had friends, I wasn’t a total loser. I just preferred to hang out on my own. Often this involved going off on long solo bike rides or just watching telly for hours on end. But what I always really wanted to be doing was building model kits of cars; J.Cates Model Shop in Herne Bay was my pocket money mecca. It was way better than playing football, which was exhausting, humiliating and confusing. Building cars was cool because a) it was my achievement and mine alone and b) I just thought cars were ace.

Cars make TV and films cool
I would watch anything with a cool car in it when I was little. I couldn’t name a single A-Team plot for you now, but I watched a lot of it. Remember an eighties sitcom called ‘Morris Minors’? No, no-one does, it was shit. But I watched it every week. Is Smokey & the Bandit a good movie? I think so, but I’m just focusing on the Trans Am.

The scene is huge
Cars fascinate me. Every single car in existence is interesting to me for some reason or another. Traffic jams don’t really annoy me because I get to closely analyse every vehicle nearby, thinking about the car itself, wondering why that particular person chose that particular car, whether they like it, thinking about common issues with that model and wondering if they suffer from it, trying to make a word from their registration number, working out how fast it would be given its engine, drivetrain and age… I’m a total car geek. Thankfully, there are thousands of people like me, so there’s always something car-related to do. My wife despairs. I’d go to a car show/race/museum/event every weekend if I could, although it would drive her up the wall. She’s amazingly tolerant of my obsession.

Every car has a tale to tell
This isn’t something that’s unique to cars; local historians, literary buffs, antiquarians, indeed any collector of or expert in almost any given field will feel the same. Every item that can be analysed will have many, many tales to tell. Think about your car: once upon a time, that was an incredibly exciting purchase for someone. They walked into the dealership, sat down with the salesman, worked through the brochures to pick out the exact specification they wanted, then, when it was ready, took delivery of their own shiny brand new car. Maybe someone learned to drive in it. Maybe it was taken on an unforgettable family holiday, or involved in some kind of life-changing accident, or for some reason driven down the street where you grew up, or took a woman in labour to hospital, or any number of other events… every car is rich with history.
This is why I’m so into classic cars. A coachbuilt Italian thoroughbred, a Birmingham-built family saloon, a Detroit muscle car, utilitarian Eastern Bloc transport… every car has a purpose, and a gloriously textured past.

Internal combustion is awesome
Seriously, this is something I can be really boring about. The physical, chemical and mechanical processes that make a car actually work are so fascinating, I think it’s such a shame that people see cars as just things. If you have even a basic understanding of what’s going on under the bonnet, it makes the whole process so much more exciting. Want to waste a couple of hours? Buy me a pint and ask me to explain how your car works. I’ll be banging on for ages. I just don’t get how people can’t find it all as amazing as I do.

You’re only a couple of steps away from greatness
Driving is something that most people can do, it isn’t hard. But driving well – that’s much rarer. An understanding of the aforementioned physical/mechanical workings helps with this, but you need guts too. Racing drivers are heroes. Today, of course, it’s quite hard to really hurt yourself in a racing car, but there’s a rich heritage of fearless folk piloting astonishing cars at dangerous speeds, purely for the thrill of going fast - which, to a lesser extent, we can all do in our everyday cars. Yes, they’re better drivers than us in better cars, but it’s the same basic process.
On the right road, in the right frame of mind, you’re not all that different to Stirling Moss in the Mille Miglia. Strap yourself in and just enjoy yourself.

I’m addicted to the visceral multi-sensory thrill
Everything about cars transports me to a happy place. The smell of petrol puts me in the Jet garage in Liphook at the age of five. The tangier scent of race fuel places me behind a Ferrari 246 Dino in the paddock at Goodwood. The sound of popping, crackling anti-lag sends me to Lord March’s rally stage, dust in my hair and sandwiches in my knapsack. The creak of aged vinyl thrusts me into the back seat of my old mkII Cortina. The screech of tyres puts me on Paddock Hill Bend in the early nineties, watching the BTCC heroes of the age muscle one another into the expansive gravel traps. The smell of tyresmoke gives an indelible sensory image of Lydden Hill rallycross events of yore. The smell of engine oil, the feel of patinated steel, the action of a trolley jack, the unmistakeable crunchiness of a rusty wheelarch, the around-and-around motion of an early eighties sunroof winder, the satisfying snick-snick of a close-ratio gearbox, the whistling sound as a turbo spools up, the rumble of an angry V8, the wail of a race-tuned V12, the gorgeous smell of two-stroke… I’m a sucker for it all.

Apologies, this has probably been intolerably dull for most of you. Rather cathartic for me though.

Friday, 22 October 2010

Lean Meat, Crusty Top

Probably the best pie advert of all time.

The geekiest Mario video ever

This must have taken fucking ages to make.

BBC Dimensions

BBC Dimensions is a brilliant site that allows you to overlay the scale of various natural disasters, historical events, notable buildings and suchlike over familiar geographical areas. For example, here's the Exxon Valdez spill over Milton Keynes:

Here's the Pentagon relocated to Whitstable:

...and here's the Glastonbury Festival in Wandsworth.

Click here to play.

Los 33

The Chilean Miners Movie.

Globe Genie

I'm totally addicted to Globe Genie. You click the button and are magically transported to random points across the globe. It just like teleportation, sort of, except without the worry of how to get home again.

Click the image to have a go. It's really exciting to fetch up somewhere you've actually been (although so far this has only happened to me once, on a dual carriageway outside Portsmouth).

Sir Ian Bowler - child benefit

Well, that all makes sense then.


...where sport meets porno! Click here.

X Factor - Wagner & Vickers

Two things that we were all thinking, now made real by internet cleverclogses.
1) Wagner is called Wagner. There's another Wagner. Stephen Fry likes the other Wagner. From thence the comedy arises.
2) Diana Vickers is an incomprehensible lunatic.

(It wouldn't let me embed this one, so you'll have to click the image and view it on YouTube.)

Fluff & aggression

Without cats, the internet would just be porn and Wikipedia. So here's a couple of catty things for you, just to keep everything in order.

22/10/10 - X Factor special

I watch X Factor. I’m not ashamed of that. I expect some of you do too, so here’s a JuicyPips X Factor special.
For those interested, let’s take a look at the finalists and see what we think of them; for those that aren’t… you may wish to go and do something else for a bit. Us cool kids have things to discuss.

Matt Cardle
It’s a cliché and everyone’s been saying it, but I have to join in: TAKE YOUR STUPID HAT OFF.
I like Matt, he’s a good singer and seems like a genuinely nice guy, but that Victorian street urchin hat is doing him no favours. I can’t focus on anything he does because I’m boring two piercing lasers into his ludicrous headgear.
I’m enjoying the way he keeps saying he’s been a painter/decorator/plumber etc and says he’s ‘sick of doing rubbish jobs’, thereby alienating a large percentage of potential voters. Silly billy. It was also interesting to note that his choice of song for the ‘musical heroes’ theme was one by Bruno Mars… who is much younger than him.

Nicolò Festa
I’m glad he got voted out. What a tool. Remember him murdering Bowie’s ‘Life on Mars’? Horrifying. And what a pretentious little dickhead he was.
In an early piece of VT, he said that he was happy for X Factor to take him where he deserved to go on merit, and if he wasn’t good enough and didn’t make it then ‘too bad, so sad’. His words. Yet when he was voted off, the only words he could muster were ‘I feel like crap’.
Yeah, not so fucking nonchalant now, are you?
(Incidentally, did you know his dad is deputy commissioner of the police flying squad in Verona? Imagine the atmosphere in their house at Christmas. ‘What are you planning to do when you graduate, son? Something respectable, industrious and community-spirited like your old man?’ ‘Well, actually no, I was hoping Simon Cowell would hand me a career on a plate for very little input on my part. I don’t know what to do now. Too bad, so sad.’)

Aiden Grimshaw
Bloody hell, he’s a bit scary isn’t he? His performance of ‘Mad World’ looked like Ian Curtis on ketamine having a breakdown right there in front of the cameras. Then he did it all again with ‘Jealous Guy’. Intense.
I’m not knocking the kid, I think he’s pretty talented and deserves to go a few more weeks at least. If nothing else, going into the bottom three would probably finish him off. Did you see how badly he took criticism last week? He got all tongue-tied and said ‘sorry, I was rubbish’. Which he wasn’t, really. If he has to fight for survival, he might just dissolve. Fragile chap.
They should really give him something upbeat to sing, if only to stop him looking like such a psycho. Maybe let him smile occasionally.

Paije Richardson
Page is a girl’s name. Paije is a poorly-spelled girl’s name.
I loved that he was so keen to slag off his job in a cinema, then didn’t make it to judges’ houses. If they hadn’t brought him back in on a wildcard, he’d have been crawling back to the movie theatre saying ‘sorry, I love your cinema really. Thanks for giving me a job in what is, let’s face it, a rather tough economic climate’.
He’s a reasonably good singer and seems like a friendly chap, but he represents rather strongly something that we sadly find with the majority of X Factor contestants: he’s very ready to say that being a singer is all he’s ever wanted and it’s all he wants to do, that he just wants someone to give him a chance. So… did he join any local drama groups or take singing lessons or play in pubs or put on free shows or record a demo or… anything? No. Of course not. None of them fucking do. They just whinge to Simon Cowell that he should be giving them a chance (which he is, obviously, a massive one) to be famous, despite having done very little to merit it. Honestly, the nerve.

Treyc Cohen
Which is, of course, pronounced ‘Trake’. Isn’t it?
She’s bloody good actually, I hope she goes the distance. It’s funny when you hear her singing after Storm or Nicolò, she’s just in another league. Controversially, she does currently have a record deal (which is forbidden for X Factor contestants), although it’s kind of OK with her because she was in it last year, got knocked out at the judges’ houses stage and signed off the back of that. Well, wouldn’t you?

Rebecca Ferguson
Ah, lovely Rebecca. She’s got the full package, hasn’t she? She’s an incredible singer, seems like a charming person and isn’t bad to look at. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she won the whole thing. It’s just a shame she’s so damn shy.
Like with Aiden, it’ll be real car-crash telly if she gets down to the bottom three at any point; imagine if the two of them have to battle each other for survival – it’ll be like watching malicious infants torturing kittens.

Cher Lloyd
Ring-a-dingin’ Cher is like a gangsta Elvis. At least, her top lip seems to think so.
I think she’s good fun. I’m not really into the whole rapping-because-I’m-a-young-white-girl schtick (ooh, isn’t she different?), but she is pretty entertaining. And she’s only seventeen, so I’d say she’s doing well - it must be tough to cope with the pressure at that age. It wasn’t really fair that she got into the finals despite not having sung much, but she’s good enough to stay there for a bit.

Katie Waissel
Aside from being a nauseating little posh girl, she’s a total fraud. Do we call her Katie Waissel? Maybe we should call her Kate Vogel? Or Lola Fontaine? Or any of the other names she’s performed, acted or sold records under in the past? Is she 24 or 18? She’s claimed both.
I can’t believe the appalling cuntstack’s still in it. She can’t remember lyrics and she broke down in Cheryl’s house, despite the fact that she’s been a professional singer for years. And she’s a conniving little tart, cosying up to other acts in order to win public approval. Last week she was pretending to get it on with Storm, who’s gay. This week it’s Matt, who’s really not happy about the lies. She’s a ruthless, awful person. And she’s not that great a singer either.

John Adeleye
Um… yeah. Not bothered really. I mean, he’s a good singer, but who gives a shit?
I don’t mean that to sound harsh. He’s good, but he’s not any better than some of the more interesting acts. Besides, he’s already won a MOBO and toured with Jamelia – the fact that he’s trying to make it big by hijacking the X Factor gravy train suggests that something’s gone wrong with his career aspirations and he wants to take the easy way out. I don’t approve of that at all.

Mary Byrne
She always gets the biggest cheer, doesn’t she? And rightly so, she’s a lovely woman and a tremendous singer. It was hilarious how the muckraking gutter press utterly failed to dig anything up on her and had to resort to ‘ummm, she said ‘Tesco’ several times on telly, that’s naughty’.
She won’t win, obviously. The winners are always young and pretty. But let’s hope she lasts as long as possible, eh?

Storm Lee
As a good friend of mine pointed out, ‘if you’re a shit pub singer and you move to LA, you’re still a shit pub singer. Living in LA.’
The man is such a berk. Simon was right to call him ‘a failed rock star’, that’s exactly what he is. You could see the weight of truth crushing him as those words emerged on national television – he must look at himself in the mirror and think that every day.
Forget all the sob stories, the pretension, the ‘I’ve been working so hard for this all my life’… his entire X Factor career (indeed, probably his singing career overall) is epitomised by that one godawful performance of ‘Born To Run’. He just sat there on a motorbike, barely bothering to move, singing quite badly, then expected the crowd to go wild. Oh, do fuck off.
Oh, you have.

He’s an odd one, isn’t he? His performances, indelicate and ungainly as they may be, are genuinely entertaining – and not just because of the breast-massaging. He is good fun. But unfortunately the joke has run its course and Wagner has slotted into the position occupied by Jedward last year: acts with genuine talent are being axed because he’s getting joke votes. It’s the London mayoral elections all over again.

Belle Amie
They’re quite sweet, aren’t they? I don’t think they’re doing themselves any favours by bickering on VT about who gets to sing which lines, but they do seem to be gelling as a group, despite having been glued together by SyCo Productions from four separate entrants.
I thought their version of ‘You Really Got Me’ was excellent, and they didn’t deserve to be in the bottom three last week. Not sure how far they’ll go, but they’re certainly better than Husstle would have been.

Diva Fever
I’m a bit sad that they left. Overly-camp people usually annoy me, but Diva Fever were really good fun. They just seemed to be nice chaps enjoying themselves, and they weren’t as bad at singing as all of the novelty act/Jedward comparisons would imply. The whole series will be slightly less fun without them.

Aw, they wanted to be the next JLS, didn’t they? You could see it in their eyes. Sadly for them, they didn’t seem to factor in the reality that you need to be able to sing before you can start selling records – just telling people that you’re good and putting in a series of mediocre performances isn’t enough.
Expect to see them switching on the Christmas lights at a rundown seaside backwater near you…

One Direction
Well, they’re obviously going to win aren’t they?
Simon put together two groups from a series of failed solo entrants; this one and Belle Amie. And, for whatever reason, he’s been massively favouring Wand Erection over Bellamy – the girls end up in the bottom three while the equivalent-talent boy band get cheered and backslapped through? It’s tremendously, painfully obvious that this year Simon Cowell wants a young boy band on his books, and he’s cherry-picked a group to fulfil that role. They cannot fail. Which is a bit of a shame… I mean, they’re alright, but it’s hardly fair.

So… final three acts? I’d like it to be Rebecca Ferguson, Mary Byrne and Treyc Cohen. But it’ll probably be One Direction, Matt Cardle and Cher Lloyd. Obviously I won’t be voting though, I’m not stupid.

Friday, 15 October 2010

The Norton Project

Wonderful. Brings a tear to the eye.

Interactive map of Springfield

If you're a Simpsons geek like me, you'll love this. Click the image to see.

The Apprentice - selection process

More superb material from BBC Nought.


This is what the world's been waiting for: little crashed cars that you can pose next to your bonsai trees. Click here.

Where good ideas come from

Interesting and aesthetically pleasing. Bingo.

Pop Psychology

Casting the waffle to the wind, Pop Psychology reviews the hit parade in a concise four words apiece. Click here.


'For men who only have one penis'.


Animated gif paranoia

A seemingly infinite stream of animated gifs. Compelling. Click the image to see.

The world's most obnoxious cretin

He's finding himself really amusing. Nobody else is. Twat.

Evil Cake Shop

'The world's first 18+ cake shop'. Click here, it's mental.

Pondlife vs. Pondlife

Jeremy Kyle is a prick. That's a given. But he does have to deal with some total cunts on his show (although he has no cause to complain - that's the point of the show).
This cunt is a particularly impressive specimen. It looks like the rest of the human race evolved while he was scratching his arse in a jungle somewhere. He really does have a monkey's face.

My favourite moment is when he says 'Because the truth hurts'. Reverting to chav type there - if you don't have the wit to properly retort, just cross-reference the words directed at you with your cliché databank.

Jesus is a jerk

Click here for one of the stranger memes of recent times.

Old Spice - Grover/blender

The Old Spice meme continues to spread its musky tendrils throughout t'interwebz.

15/10/10 - Such playthings to the nerds are we

It’s Monday morning. It’s 9.30am and I’ve been here for about an hour, entirely unable to do any work. The internet isn’t working. Lotus Notes isn’t updating. I can’t access any network drives. I’ve called IT and listened to that one Idlewild song they have on rotation over and over again (for fuck’s sake, buy another damn song or two!), and listened to their empty proclamation that ‘we’re experiencing an unusually high volume of calls’ (which the recorded message says every single time I phone – seriously, if it’s always like that then it’s not unusually high, it’s just normal). There is only one thing I’m physically able to do at this point, and that’s write JuicyPips. So that’s what I’m doing.

It’s interesting how reliant we are on our computers, isn’t it? In my job it’s essential to be connected, but the modern world in general falters and stumbles when the digital umbilicus retracts. I work in research and my information tools are networked or online, so I’m largely redundant without a computer. Rewind a couple of decades and this notion would sound absurd, of course – anything that couldn’t be achieved with a typewriter, a rolodex, a bit of moxie and a really strong cup of coffee simply wasn’t worth doing – but the world has changed. The IT department are our equivalent of the RMT; while the Tube union can hold London to ransom by pulling the transport rug from under our feet and leaving everybody utterly bewildered, similarly the iron fist that clutches the computer network can cripple the building on a whim. Such playthings to the nerds are we.

Inevitably, all that can be done is fruitlessly whinge about the situation. After I finished my steaming mug of leafy elixir a little while ago, I tidied my desk to a fastidious degree, sorted the teetering stack of old newspapers into recycling bags and wiped my flaccid and worthless monitor clean. Now I think I might go for a wee. I had one about half an hour ago, but I can’t think of anything else to do.

Well, that wasn’t a bad wee, as wees go. The volume was diminished by the recent micturation, sure, but that last cup of tea ensured a strong, healthy stream. I think I might make another cup. I do love tea.

OK. I guess I’ll thumb through this month’s Classic & Sports Car for a bit while my tasty beverage cools.

Ah, superb – there’s a twin-test with the Mercedes SL Pagoda and the Jaguar E-Type. They’re both on my lottery wish-list. This article will prove useful if my EuroMillions numbers come up on Friday. (Although I’d really rather have a series 1 E-Type than the slightly blunted series 2. And I’d want a coupe, not a drophead. Hey-ho.)

Great, there’s a piece on the Lancia Hyena too. I blogged about that a few weeks ago, to a general response of ‘What the hell’s that? I’ve never heard of it’. Feel smug.

This article on the GT40 is really making me want one of those as well. Not sure whether I’d be too tall to get in it though?

Shit, I forgot we had a meeting at half-ten – better skedaddle. When I get there I can moan about how the day’s been a total wash-out so far and I might as well have stayed in bed until it was time for the meeting. My colleagues will surely agree, and we’ll share a wry little chuckle.

Goodness gracious. It’s 12:45, I’m back at my desk and the email system’s just kicked into life. I have an email from IT saying that there are server issues but ‘email and internet are unaffected’. Well, that’s a fucking lie.
Sod it, I’m going to switch the wretched thing off and spend the rest of the day making stuff up and passing it off as fact. That’s basically all the internet is anyway…

Balancing goat

I can't even begin to imagine how you'd convince a goat that this was a good idea. Slightly better deal for the monkey, obviously - he's having a whale of a time.

Friday, 8 October 2010

Girl Directions

8-Bit Wood

These are just so cool - wooden wall sculptures of 8-bit video game characters. I'd happily have any of these in my house.
Click here.

Lip Dub - Axe Sud Toulouse

I can't imagine how many practice runs they must have had to do for this...

Office snapshots

For a whole series of offices that are much better than yours, click here.

The Death of a Spider (by Cats)

Postcards from the future

Slightly hysterical perhaps, but still interesting. Click here.

(Heal the World) Join Hands and Sing

Thank you, Goldie Lookin' Chain - this is undoubtedly the greatest charity song ever written.

Bodies in urban spaces

I'm sure there's a reason for this.

somegreybloke talks to a rabbi

Good lord, it's David Schneider.

The truth about Justin Bieber

I bloody knew it.

Xbox 360 funeral

Moving scenes from the funeral of a poor Xbox 360, taken before its time. Click here.

The history of football... video games.

Salad stacking

In Chinese branches of Pizza Hut you're only allowed to visit the salad bar once, and with quite a small plate too. Their customers have developed some brilliant methods of getting as much salad onto the plate as possible - click here.

08/10/10 - 10101010101010

This Sunday it’ll be 10/10/10, a date which some people are taking very seriously as a harbinger of, er, something. People like repeating or sequential occurrences of numbers, it gives them a giddy thrill. Everyone in the car always peers keenly at the odometer when it’s approaching 100,000, just to see a string of the same number appear. My sister recently moved to a place where the telephone area code is 01234, and it doesn’t get more intoxicating than that. 118 118 will always seem slightly better than 118 anything else, simply because of the number’s pleasing aesthetic. Basically, 10/10/10 is a good thing (as long as you ignore the fact that it’s actually 10/10/2010).
Speaking of taking it seriously, take a look at this carbon emissions thingy:
You may well have heard about this viral they’ve done for it:

Think that’s a bit pious? Fuck it, blow all the kids up.

So anyway, you need to start thinking about what you’ll be doing at ten seconds past 10:10am on Sunday. Y’know, just to mark the occasion. Being a helpful sort of chap, I’ve come up with a few ideas for you.

Listen to Pearl Jam
Their album ‘Ten’ will be exactly the thing to rouse your slumbering neighbours into a frenzy of numerical excitement - never mind that they couldn’t give a toss about the repetition of the number ten, a full-volume blast of Even Flow will surely get them over for a round of toast and a friendly chat.

Get mesmerised by neon signs
Ten is the atomic number of neon. This is reason enough to stroll down to Piccadilly Circus and spend a few hours staring in rapt awe at the massive shimmering billboards. (Take some Special Brew along if you think it’ll help.)

Play rugby tens
This is just as violent, homoerotic and public-schoolish as normal rugby, but there are only ten players. So that’s several fewer people to be unpleasantly buggered by in the showers afterwards (unless you’re used to playing rugby sevens, in which case it’s three more and you’ll need to allow a little extra time before you can limp home).

Climb Mount Ten
You’re going to have to book this pretty bloody quickly if you want to get there by Sunday. But if you can manage it, take your crampons and oxygen cylinders to Xuan Son National Park in northern Vietnam and prepare yourself for a 1244m climb (which doesn’t sound that high, to be honest).
Climbing’s a load of fuss about nothing really, so this one shouldn’t be too hard to achieve as long as you can actually get to Vietnam at such short notice.

Pay David Cameron a visit
My grandma used to refer to her house as ‘number ten’. Given that it was actually number ten in her street that may not seem odd, but people don’t normally talk about their houses like that unless they want to imply that they live with the Prime Minister. Which I suspect she did.
Big Davey C will be happy to welcome you into his home, as he’s famously a fan of the number ten in all its forms. Ask him if his bedroom still smells like the Browns. Ask him whether he’s ever got a whiff of Gordon at a climactically crucial moment and had to push Samantha away in disgust.

Watch TEN
…which is, of course, The Erotic Network. You’ve got a choice of six channels – VaVoom, SexSee, Juicy, Real, Xtsy and Penthouse TV – so there should be enough to keep your grubby mitts occupied however specific the fetish. See if you can manage ten goes before your body is entirely milked of proteins.

Contract TEN
...which stands for Toxic Epidermal Necrolysis. Also known as Lyell’s Syndrome, this is a tremendously nasty condition which causes widespread cell death throughout the skin. It’ll probably kill you, but your epic last Facebook status will have so many tens in it.

Muck about with a TENS machine
Standing for Transcutaneous Electrical Nerve Stimulation, these machines pump a series of electrical pulses through a set of pads in order to stimulate nerves. This is supposed to be for therapeutic purposes, but it can be fun to employ a roll of duct tape and an unsuspecting victim – crank up the power, stick the pads to their arm and watch them repeatedly slap themself in the face. Or tape it to their temples and do some real damage…

Listen to some other music
Pearl Jam aren’t the only band to release an album called ‘Ten’. You could also be listening to LL Cool J, Kate Rusby, Mad Capsule Markets, Enuff Z’Nuff, Gung-Ho, The Guess Who, The Stranglers, Wet Wet Wet, Chicago, Astral Projection, Brian McKnight or any number of others.

Inflict a plague upon Egypt
The Plagues of Egypt came along in a nice round sheaf of ten: blood, frogs, lice, flies, livestock death, boils, hail, locusts, darkness, death of the firstborn. If you can think of anything equally unpleasant, why not inflict a special plague of your own? A plague of standing on upturned plugs, perhaps? A plague of papercuts-sustained-whilst-opening-substantial-gas-bills?

Be really geeky about the number ten itself
10 is a composite number, its proper divisors being 1, 2 & 5. It’s the smallest noncototient, the second discrete semiprime, and its aliquot sequence comprises 10, 8, 7, 1 & 0. It is a semi-meandric number, it’s the sum of the first three prime numbers as well as the first four numbers (1+2+3+4), it’s the sum of the square of the first two odd numbers and also the first four factorials. It is both a decagonal and a triangular number.
Whatever you do, don’t say any of that out loud to another person, as they’ll either slip into a deep and impenetrable coma or just punch you in the fucking face.

Friday, 1 October 2010

Hipster Hitler

Oh, his life is so troubled. Click the image.

How to pick between Milibands

Bit out of date now, but still...

Terrifying Tories

They really are. Click here.

Exploding coconut

It's the cockneyness that makes it all the more amusing.

Teeny-tiny stop-motion

A nice little idea by Nokia. Dot is the world's smallest stop-motion character - her microscopic adventures are shot on a Nokia N8 for your slack-jawed delectation.

Breathing Earth

Click below to see real-time stats of what's happening in the world.

Product testing by models

...and toddlers.

Why Women Hate Men

This blog collects together a broad range of mindfuckingly awful personal ads, written by men who clearly a) think they're quite a catch and b) have no idea how to talk to women (and in most cases, probably haven't ever spoken to any). Some of it is genuinely astonishing. Click the image to see...

Interactive Piano

Makes me wish I had any kind of musical talent so that I could arse around with this properly.

European stereotypes

...beautifully mapped. Click here.

OK Go - White Knuckles

Another amazing video for a largely forgettable song by OK Go. I love the massive amount of effort they go to to create these extravagant videos, although perhaps they should take away a few microns of that effort and shift it onto the 'bothering to write better music' side of the scale. You know, like the stuff on their first album, that was pretty good...

Rap taxonomy

Click the image for a complex analysis of the taxonomy of rap.