Tuesday 15 June 2010

Happy birthday Blog! Have some cake or something.

Hey,

So, ultimately I didn't go to RockNess at the weekend, which means this anniversary edition of the blog is not nearly as interesting as perhaps it should have been. In all honesty, the thought of being drunk in a field fails to gain attractiveness. I know there is more to it than that, but if you really like a band why don't you just go and buy a ticket for a tour or something along those lines. Pendulum were really good, but we all knew that they would be. I know because I saw them a year or so ago in Glasgow with the added bonus of having a bed to go to at the end of the night. The fact that it was raining on the Sunday was the final nail in my coffin of decision making. Am I a size 12 blouse, or just a cynical old man? I'm going to go for cynical old git, I don't suit blouses.

Speaking of cynical folk, somebody who I write about often, Charlie Brooker is getting married. This is surprising for many reasons;

* His apparent ease with bachelorhood which, if anything, has grown to define him
* Rumours of him being supposedly being homosexual, backed up with his fashionable, if not ridiculous, haircut
* His fiancĂ©e being Konnie Huq

That's right. Konnie. Fucking. Huq. I have nothing against her, just for the record; she was one of the many faces of my childhood, along with Jason from Power Rangers, the bald guy from Crystal Maze and the creepy one from "Shakespeare's Sister". I actually met Konnie Huq once, when I was nine, and she was really nice. Couldn't pronounce "Lochaber" (for some reason English folk always add an unnecessary "r" into the equation). It's just really, really weird is all. Brooker taught me how to criticise television and the like; Huq taught me how to build a Tracey Island replica from washing up bottles. It's just odd, I suppose.

The World Cup is going on, as you probably know, and it's been a bit shit. I'm surprised I'm saying this, because I love football. It's good, normally, but a few things are getting in the way. Or should I say, ears.

That's right, vuvuzelas. Apparently, "vuvuzela" is Afrikaans for "really annoying trumpety thing". It's such a nuisance. If a goal is scored you hear "ERH!!". Someone sent off? "ERH!!". Somebody just completed a game of tetris? "ERH!!".  What has kept me going through the tournament (for which I see most games due to bar work but, thankfully I do not hear) is the prospect of North Korea playing and it's purely for political reasons. Basically, throughout my life I have only known democracy/capitalism and all that it brings. For this, I blame Gorbachev. So now, anything that differs from the norm I am intrigued in. The secrecy surrounding them made them appealing, I guess. So in a way, I was impressed by their performance tonight. I wanted to buy their jersey but I can not find it anywhere. I had to settle for a Partick Thistle shirt instead, because I'm really rebelious. Let's see how I fare getting through customs with a Jags top on eh!

Before I go, happy birthday blog! It's pretty weird that this is a year gone-by, it has just flown by! I promise to keep writing when I go back to Glasgow in September this time. Promise!

Thanks for reading it so far,

DC
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