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By date : Aug 2007

What I'd Do To Deal With Home Grown Terrorists

We are still here, just about. Nick has been studying domestic terrorism and has come to the conclusion that it can all be sorted out by worrying about fridges, or something.

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paper-jam: not quite dead yet

Hmmm, been a bit quiet round here lately hasn’t it? Well much as I’d like to tell you that we have taken some sort of holiday or sabbatical the truth is much more mundane; no one has been bothered.

Steve has been more interested in trying to create the exact snare drum sound off an old Broadcast B-side that was never actually recorded or even released to the public. Vanessa has been stalking Dave Grohl (no, really) and Nick’s just had to do 150 hours community service after he was caught doing a Cool Hand Luke on the new parking meters in Leamington. Personally I’ve been practising my new hobby of shaving and honing some mad skillz on my old hobby of being in a mood.

Anyway following an on-line campaign and receipt of a petition signed by world-renowned paper-jam fans as diverse as:

Presidents Bush and Ahmadinejad, that Nazi Pope, Ant (but not Dec it seems - twat), Sir Alex Ferguson, Bernard Manning (last thing he did apparently), Paris Hilton, Axl Rose, Victor Kiam, that roadie that used to shove the drugs up Stevie Nicks’ arse, Tom Henderson, the collective victims of Hurricane Katrina, some remaining members of the Glitter Band, the Brazilian ladies beach volleyball squad and Satan – the great deceiver.

…we felt compelled to get off our collective arse and do something.

Unfortunately prior to any new material going on we are going to have to spend a bit of time removing all the spam off the comments sections. So while I wade knee deep through a sewer of stuff about cheap pills to give me the girth of a horse, real amateur bukkake dwarves and all sorts of Polish milf action, here is a quick update on things that may have appeared here recently, if we had been arsed.

The Transformers film: Total shite and about a day too long but actually very entertaining, especially when you consider that it is preceded by the words “A Michael Bay film… In association with Hasbro”.

The Great British Beer Festival: There will be something about this in due course, but I can already reveal that having an alka-seltzer before you go to bed is a great hangover prevention measure.

The Simpsons Movie: Well, I thought it was funny and another chance to sample the charms of the charming electric cinema with its squeaky leather sofas, bijou bar and slightly stale donuts.

Super Furry Animals at the Godiva Festival: Ace as expected despite a bit of a dodgy sound system. Being a free festival in the middle of Cov it was all a bit Barter Town from Mad Max 3 by the time we left.

The V Festival: We might be hearing more about this from various sources, I didn’t go this year due to a prior engagement with some furniture and a van full of total shit.

Buying a Nintendo Wii: Can the needless purchase of pointless consumer entertainment items force morbid thoughts of loneliness, existential dread and financial woe out of your mind? Too fucking right they can. Wii Sports Tennis may, I speculate, be the reason that electricity was invented.

Some thoughts I had during Knocked Up

Dave Rankin In A Wig

Heavily italicised musings brought on by sitting through a rather disappointing comedy. Ho hum. Actually for “rather disappointing” read “bag of shite”.

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Psychology: The game is up

For decades, students of psychology have strived to produce subtle yet exacting tests to pinpoint the nature of an individual’s personality. You can’t even get a temping job doing data entry without doing some deeply cunning multiple choice test asking you if in your spare time do you prefer to:
a) Spend time with your family
b) Socialise with friends/play sports
c) Enjoy your own company with a book/some music
d) Self harm, smoke crack and torture kittens

Well, the likes of Belbin and Myers-Briggs have all struggled in vain as far as I can tell, because today I was sent an e-mail containing a link to the most accurate personality evaluation tool that I can imagine the human mind will ever assemble. I refer to the “Which Sports Car Are You??” multiple choice quiz.

This frighteningly sophisticated psychological tool (now in its refined second version) uses a deceptively small number of seemingly vacuous yes/no questions to determine the precise nature of your “inner vehicle”. Honestly it is like someone shining a spotlight into your soul.

In the interests of science I submitted to the test and got the following results:

Cute? Moi? Oooh

Anyone who knows me will tell you that this is a devastatingly accurate assessment (as long as you stop reading after the first eight words). But to be fair I have been hanging round in a desert at dusk a lot lately, right near a stylish rocky outcrop. It just feels right.

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