The Morning After the Day Before.

Now first of all, let us begin with pleasantries, I do indeed hope you all had a spectacular Christmas and that all the things that normally plague the 25th of December (disappointment, arguments and over eating) did not befall you. Apart from that last one, since you know you’ve had a good Christmas if the only form of travelling available to you is rolling. But the thing with Christmas, the big C, is the fact that once it starts, it’s pretty much over. Let’s face it, Christmas is brilliant, and even though I didn’t feel particularly Cringle-y before hand, my Christmas was really very nice (thanks for asking) it was slightly quieter than usual, with, instead of a sudden stream of visitors, a steady trickle of people, which was a pleasant change. But the thing with Christmas is it’s only really a day long, unless you’re like my family used to be, and have 2 Christmas’s for whatever reason, and in that case it’s only an extra day, it’s not like Easter, who gets a whole weekend to itself!
You wake up on the 26th (or 27th) of December, look around you at the debris of wrapping paper, packaging and slowly increasing amounts of selection box chocolate wrappers, and think “was that it?” or “Well, all over now” or, if you’re my sister, “Oh yay, 15 days until my birthday!” and at that point I’d agree with you, sit down, eat some of your chocolates and tuck in to your turkey leftovers, because this year, the day after boxing day, I had to work, now I know you’re probably thinking “Think of the money” or “at least you have a job” and I appreciate these things, but it means I didn’t have a day to see my friends and say “Give me some chocolate! But first, what did you get” unlike last year where I saw some friends, got drunk and went to Argos (great fun). This all meant that my Christmas spirit, which was so freshly picked from the tree, was soon shot down, stuffed and eaten because I was forced to “move on”. As I say since my festive spirit was really new and I think this was what really got me down about this year, all I could say was “Yeah my Christmas was great thank you, and you?” to customers, which just isn’t the same as sitting in someone’s living room, with a cider, and reminiscing about something that happened only hours ago. So within 24 hours Christmas has been and gone, or so you would think.
See, being the sweet old romantic I am, I have always preferred the build up to Christmas, which is why I was so disappointed when I didn’t get psyched for it this year, the slow realisation that there is only X number of shopping days left, seeing all the decorations go up, and watching the kids go absolutely mental (from behind a childproof one way mirror) are all really great parts of the holiday. And like I said, if you don’t jump the gun and start prepping for it straight after Halloween, the build up to the 25th, to Christmas, can in fact be part of the holiday, if not the best part!
One prime example of this idea is the tradition of “secret Santa” (how secret can a fat guy in a red suit be?) for those who are not aware of this, it isn’t, as the name suggests, Chris Cringle hiding their secret identity like superman, what it is is, you have a list of people in a group, and then a list of people in the same group and mix and match them up so that someone is getting a gift for someone else, now that second part is very important, it’s just not the same getting for yourself, then you all anonymously give the gifts to one another, and no one knows who gave what.
That’s it in theory, in practise, not so much.
What actually happens is far more exciting and fun. People scramble around trying to figure out who has whom, and swapping names so that they can get for their friend, get to reuse an old gift or get for someone who may get drunk enough to sleep with them, searching bookstores and DVD racks and perfume stands for the perfect gift, then cop out, get them some bath salts and be done with it. But it’s not just the gifts that have the anticlimatical essence of Christmas; the entire concept of a “Secret” Santa does too. During the weeks lead up people are mysterious, elusive and hard to find or understand, much like a French spy, they’ll do anything and everything to stop people from finding out who they are getting for, just in case word leaks out and the entire operation is compromised and then, when it comes to the present giving this all goes out the window as people destroy the disguise they had worked so hard to maintain by saying; “Do you like it? If you do, it was me, if not; Joe was your secret Santa” I’m left with a very angry recipient of a lacklustre gift and the build up of mystery is abolished faster than you can say “Seriously, it doesn’t mean you smell bad STOP THROWING THINGS AT ME”
What I’m trying to say in a roundabout way is that seriously people, relish the build up to Christmas, and then enjoy Christmas day, because after that, all you have to look forward to is drinking into the new year and if, like me, you didn’t get to enjoy the best part of Christmas, not the turkey, presents or queens speech, but the carols, the shopping and the wrapping, you’ve got 11 months to get ready to enjoy the hell out of 2010.
Savour Christmas while it lasts, there’s not much time, and so much to do.

Joe Strange
Since next Tuesday we will be in 2010, I want to wish you all a Happy New Year! And see you on the 5th!

Super Festive Edition!

So for this week’s blog I've decided to be all festive, take a seat, sit down, go on, take off your coat, sit by the fire, have a mince pie, some mulled wine perhaps?

So, It's Christmas on Friday, Wow eh? I say this because it really hasn’t felt like Christmas this year at all, not until Saturday in fact. Now I know what you’re thinking, “Joe, You rosy cheeked Christmas elf! How can you not notice Christmas the most magical time of the year?”
Well, dear reader, sit down, next to the fire, with a mince pie and some mulled wine and I shall tell you, MY Christmas story....

It all begins about halfway through November, you know the time, Halloween is a few weeks ago and therefore Christmas stock is in, people are beginning to ask you what you would like for Christmas, (and you still have no clue), and in the Joe Strange household, “Christmas” is a forbidden word. The thing is, me, being a 7 year old at heart, (I still, for instance laugh at the word “titmouse”) get very very excited around this time of year. Mystery, family and flashing lights, are all things that both get me excited and happen around this time of year. So to that effect, I decided this year that I was not going to even think about Christmas until December, which meant 2 weeks of avoiding the subject in November. This would mean that I would have more fun when it came to December and I finally joined in the party. Of course, no one told me that these 2 weeks of ignoring the “C” word, as it would then become known as, would be so painfully hard that I ignored the telly and stopped asking people what they were up to in case any variant of the word “Christmas” turned up, Noel, the holiday season, Xmas, national eat all you can day. This was particularly hard when it came to the notorious Coke advert, with its pretty lights and catchy jingle.
So at first I was avoiding the season, and now, I’m having trouble getting into the festive spirit, and as of Saturday, as I said, I am in the spirit, but that was 6 days before! I know i intended to be late to the party but not so late that the good nibbles were gone, all the fun people were gone and all that was left was breadsticks and people passed out!
So, I’m obviously being awkward about it, I hear to you think, I’m not, or not intentionally, I’ve had things on my mind since the beginning of the month which have subdued the festivities, as I mentioned 2 entries ago, my stand up show was taking up a lot of my thought time and my energies, which didn’t leave much room for small things like Jesus’ birthday, and then, after my gig I had to focus on getting college work done in time so that the last day of term could be a blast (I got it done, and it was).
Even the slowly increasing number of Christmas cards in my possession and the influx of tinsel in the college didn’t affect my Christmas mood.
Now I know you’re all thinking I’m some sort of scrooge, but it’s not just me personally that has had trouble with the whole Christmas thing, a friend of mine today said “Christmas gets worse as you get older”. Now while I agree on some points, the mystery is gone, people ask you what you want, the giant beardy paedophile doesn’t actually exist and you can no longer go to Santa’s grotto, I have to disagree with others, for instant, when you’re a kid the idea of family isn’t as cemented into your brain, and for me that’s a major draw for Christmas, I love my family, the atmosphere is more conscious as well, for once you do get into the mood, Christmas makes you feel ecstatic. (Hopefully or else here’s a humbug). And of course there’s the alcoholic excuse, this time of the year it’s perfectly acceptable to buy vast amounts of booze and not feel guilty, and if that isn’t a Christmas blessing I don’t know what is.
Another reason I think I’m not in the Christmas mood is because of the considerable lack of Christmas decorations in the house, you see, we keep the decorations in the attic, I’m the only one who can fit up there and therefore if I am away at college or work or unconscious, I am unable to retrieve these items and so there is no Christmas cheer in the Strange house.
2 things this weekend got me into the Christmas spirit, first of all, like many of my problems, this lack of festivity in my mind was solved by a few people, not my close friends, not my family, not even the A-team, but The Barenaked Ladies. This is by far my favourite band, for a number of reasons, but i recently and completely legally came into possession of their holiday album, which involves an extraordinary rendition of “jingle bells”. I challenge anyone to listen to that song and by the end of it not feel Christmassy, except you Ebenezer. And second of all, it snowed this weekend, and for those who live in the arctic, or Canada, or Greenland, this may not sound very impressive but here in Cornwall, it’s a ruddy big deal, it causes the entire place to grind to a halt, which is highly impressive. (For more information on this subject see blog entry “with this carrot”)

So thanks to those few things and of course, help from others, I have reached the point where I cannot wait for Friday the 25th of December. So thank you everyone for everything they’ve done for me this year, and this month, even if it’s as simple as reading this blog. Merry Christmas.

Joe Strange

If for some reason or another you do not celebrate Christmas please replace all instances of the “C” word with you’re holiday.

Myspace Archives.

Wait! This is madness is it not? not only 2 blogs in one week, but published on the same night?

Well, due to the fact that I looked on my last entry and realised... it's a tad lacking, I figured I'd just do 2 smaller ones for the price of one.

Now i say smaller, but this is in fact going to be a mammoth of a blog, but not because I am going to write a lot, because I HAVE written a lot.

Those who joined me when I first started up my Blogspot blogs, may remember me mentioning my old "myspace" blogs. you remember myspace right readers? that cool and indie place to go which was full of music and bands, then (nearly) everyone jumped ship and went over to old facebook?
well to make up for my small amount of new material this week, I now give you a large amount of OLD material.

Now, a lot of work has gone into searching the depths of Myspace for these blogs, I had to endure the lengthy login section, by pass the fathoms of the overfilled mailbox, creep by the "myspace" pictures which linger on and endure the updates of bands who have passed it, to bring you this... the Joe Strange preblogger era of blogs. before structure and form, before coherent thought there was the "Myspace stories"

Joe Strange

You may notice these are in fact on a blogger page, but this is so you do not have to endure the process which I had to to read them, I'm not even sure if non myspacers could read them, so here are the new copies. back to normal next week!

Stand up! Now, Sit, good lifetime dream.

Okay, so this week I'm taking a break from my usual "objective" blogs (where no opinion is shown at all) and talking specifically about something that has happened to me.

So for those who don't know me, I'm a huge fan of stand up, and comedy in general, so much in fact that I gave up learning to drive to visit the Edinburgh fringe festival.
This love of comedy caused me to become so obsessed that I started doing it myself. and on Saturday the 12th of December 2009. I had my first proper show.

Now the lead up to the show was something of a spectacle on my part, my mood would change from very nervous to highly excited in an instant, which lead costumers to believe I was riddle with drugs. (to explain that, I'll just say, my work is a bit lame in the fact I can ask for a day off and you can almost guarantee that they wont be able to do it, but the week after, NO PROBLEM. Therefore even though asking if I can get the day off I did not, meaning I had to be crazy in front of people.)
It did mean however that I got a whole lot of work done, because if I was hit by the nerves i needed something to pre-occupy my mind with, and if I was hit with the excitement I had more energy than a 6 year old boy who's been introduced to speed, so could do lots of things.
So it was a productive day.

So I guess before I go into it any more, I'll link the video, then I'll talk some more about it after you've watched it. Go Ahead, watch it, I'll see you in 6:44.

Go on!



Now first of all, thanks to my friend Megan for recording it and putting it on youtube.
But as you can see, for a first time I don't think it was too bad. after watching it over, and over, and over again, I feel like there is a lot of stuff I could have fixed up, and done a lot better, so that's the next job.

I think the real important thing is the fact that I didn't run off at any point, apart from when I'd finished of course, that'd been a bit weird else.
"Please leave the stage"
"No! I promised myself I'd never quit!"
and the fact that I got off stage, and instantly thought "Well I want to do that again!"

So I officially have a love for the art, and if anyone knows of any chances for me to do more, I'd be more than happy to hear them!

Joe Strange
I realise that this week's blog has been a bit... strange and lacking, but I'll be back to the normal format this Tuesday. ttfn

'Tis The Season To Be Poorly.

So, looking at this blog page it really does feel like that scene from “Jumanji” where Robin Williams walks into the old shoe factory, something used to be here... but I don’t know what.
That was a lie, I do know what it was, a kick ass blog, so I’m reopening the shoe factory.

So, It’s December, which means; the excitement is here, Christmas is round the corner, and national “get as drunk as you can” night is not far off. But let us face it, there’s one thing we can’t stand about winter, one thing we dread when it comes to November, and it isn’t the sudden ability to consume copious amounts of alcohol in one.
Go into work, school, college, prison, wherever it is you spend your day and look around. Do you see empty seats? Deserted classrooms? Cells left unattended, which has nothing to do with the sudden hole in the wall?
Yes. Of course you do, it’s flipping winter, whenever winter comes about you can stop thinking about being productive and put everything to the side, in fact, I dare say you’d better watch out, and better not cry, you’d better not pout, because, like a slightly rotund, bearded present giver, the cold is coming to town.
That’s right, the cold virus (for you eggheads that’s VURI, now may I suggest leaving this blog because it’s obviously far too light-hearted for your eyes) and all its infectious little buddies are settling down and making camp in you’re immune system. Whether it’s a cough, a tickly throat or the dreaded “what’s going around”, statistically 6 in 4 people you know will be ill at any one time. This poses a dreadful dilemma for those who aren’t ill, even worse, those who are. So I shall, as a return to my article, be attempting to guide people into the ins and outs of being ill, and not getting ill.
First we’ll start with the healthy people or “Winners” as you shall now be known.
For you who hardly every get ill, perhaps a sniffle for a week in November, congratulations, you’ve won the national health lottery, although chance dictates you’re more likely to get a “big’un” in your life, so watch out for that.
My main advice is to stay away form any of the “losers” out there, and if possible go to your nearest radioactive testing facility and “borrow” a hazmat suit, what could possibly go wrong?
Now, I can hear you saying now, “Joe, you disembodied sage, where do you stand on this scale of winners and losers? Where do you come into the national health lottery?” Well I hate to say it guys, but I’m not the one who gets a cold a year, or the sniffles for a week, oh no, I’m the one who can catch, have and get rid of a cold in 36 hours. I’m just that good. Once again I hear you shout “Joe for your own safety, get an illness, you just told us we will all have a big’un! And plus you never described what it was!” well kids I got mine out the way early. Pneumonia at aged 7.
Now for the doomed.
If you are ill, whether it is a cold, flu, an Australian scratch, or pneumonia, take my advice. Stay inside. Don’t bother going to work, school, college, prison, because you will feel just like a leper, because that’s all you are to us healthy people. In fact I am guilty of this myself, today while in one of my classes, a girl came over to me and I asked how she was, she replied “very ill” now without thinking I moved slightly further away from her, but, so I didn’t seem like a grade A twat, I passed it off as a joke, allowing me to be more of a Grade C twat at best.
Also wrap up warm, germs are allergic to scarves and wool, which is the only reason people own scarves and gloves, I mean lets face it, gloves are far too impractical and scarves are a volatile clothing snake ready to kill at the smallest “snag and slip” (also a winter version of the “slip and slide” also a reason why I’m not allowed to create children’s’ games), so why else wear them? The warmth also allows for you to fall asleep better, since heat induces warmth, to a certain degree, I’m pretty sure you couldn’t set up a bed on top of a volcano and say “it’s better than nightol!”, and sleep is another of the illness’s natural predators, it can’t stand the idea of being stationary, not being able to move from one doomed host to the next.
Finally, I’d advise staying away from any kind of farm yard animal. Animals only ever lead to disaster where illness is concerned, we’ve had cows who’ve gone crazy, cat’s with aids (though, that would have to be a different kind of petting zoo) and now pigs with a bad cold.
Now I know it’s old and it’s not “cool” to mock swine flu anymore, but I’m thoroughly anti zombie, and anything that is causing a zombie outbreak deserves a fresh layer of mock paint. This story states that the “carriers” as they shall now be known, have symptoms such as “acting violently and speaking gibberish” expected to be added to that list soon: “shuffling of movements” and “biting of necks”. All very zombie like behaviour. Now before you panic, head up to the attic (zombies can’t climb after all) and ready the rations, note that firstly this is Japan, and secondly it only effects ages up to 17, so basically teenagers. Now if this is only teenagers that are experiencing this, all the above symptoms are really not that unnatural; violence, non sensical sayings, shuffling and now, thanks to the “twilight” craze, biting of necks is now becoming more common, these crazed girls will do anything for that hot guys attention, even it that “attention” is in the form of a court order.
“Ahh, a restraining order! He’s probably afraid he’ll hurt me, aww”
So no real panic, since teenagers have been around for years, decades I’d say, and no zombie apocalypse yet.

Joe Strange

In the month’s I’ve been away I’ve been unable to mock “Twilight” swine-flu or the Japanese in writing, so this was a welcome release for me.

Yeah... about that.

Ok, Ok So I realise with time keeping skills like this I'm never going to make it as anything but bugger it, I've been busy putting off procrastination.

Once again I failed you guys and missed out on another weeks blog, so, not to get into bad habits of posting late, (by 2 days) I'm giving this week a miss, don't worry next weeks will be epic I'm sure.

Joe Strange
Last time I promise sir.

Sticks And Stones

We all know the phrase that my title tonight gets its name from, you know the old wives tale "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me" it's a really well known phrase like; "It's raining cats and dogs" or "Come on mate, it was one time, with your wife, it didn’t mean anything, I mean sure she’s pregnant and its not yours... wow actually that must suck for you, well I’m off to screw your sister hem bye!". But also like the other 2 sayings it’s all complete and utter bovine faeces. I mean can you imagine it raining cats and dogs? if that were to happen then that implies that all water in the world is household pets and would mean that everyone, and not just David Blunkett, would have to shower with a Labrador (well how else is he going to find the soap?). It’s a preposterous idea.
The harsh, hallowing truth is, words are mans biggest weapons, well apart from nukes, or Chuck Norris. Entire nations can be seduced by a well constructed sentence, entire wars have been caused by one mans vocabulary, or lack of in one particular, recent, weapon of mass destruction searching example.
But anyway I have a bone to pick with that phrase, is it not true that you are taught it from a young age, to try and “thicken your skin” so to speak, so that when you get older and people begin to insult you about everything you do, say or are, you’re not as badly affected? If it is so efficient then why when you make a small girl cry, and she goes running to the playground assistant and you run up chanting “sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me” you get shouted at and told “this is no excuse for a seventeen year old, now please leave the school before we phone the police.” And barred from the local primary school?
There are two reasons for this; one, parents are liars and will tell you anything to stop you complaining about your brother saying that your head is weird and two, words really do hurt, and when used correctly (or incorrectly) they can make a bad situation worse.

Ok, not strictly an example of making a bad situation worse, but more of a bad situation a bit more confusing. You may have remembered a few weeks ago, I had to attend a funeral, well, this was my first funeral and as we approached the grieving partner he asked me “Is this your first funeral then Joe?” and before I could solemnly nod my head my mum butted in and says “Yes it is. UNFORTUNATLY”
Ill gives you a moment to think about that... what in the world possessed my mother to add that bit on the end? What’s unfortunate; that I’m 17, and it’s only now I have to face a coffin? Because I’d say that was pretty good, in fact I would say I’m somewhat of a LUCKY person. Or is it unfortunate that this funeral is my first one, because that sounds a bit undermining and is not really the best thing to say to someone about to say goodbye to their loved one “well, I understand that you’ve lost your soul mate but you could have put some effort in, I mean really, think of my son, this is his first experience of admitting to the fragility of life and this place is a dump!” needless to say with all this running through my mind, I had no time to be sad, I was too busy being confused.

Ok, so I’ve explained how peoples choice of words can be idiotic and sometimes life threatening (“I read sharks don’t like meat, apparently they prefer tofu”)
But words are brilliant, they can be picked out of sentences to get the real meaning, one word can change the entire perceived denotation of a sentence. Like when someone starts a sentence with “Ok, Hypothetically...” this can be translated as “Ok the situation I am about to ask you about has just happened, it’s bad and I have just done it, I’m asking for your advice so that I can part some of the blame on you and feign ignorance” or when someone shouts out at a party “TUNE”, this can be translated as “I’m a complete moron and shouldn’t be allowed to breed”

One word use which I never understood, is when people tag “actually” onto the end of a phrase, such as saying to a Italian chef; “yeah, that bolognaise was quite nice actually” or saying to The Who (pre deaths); “Well actually that concert wasn’t bad”, or to a hesitating murderer; “actually I’d prefer not dying tonight, I have dinner with the girlfriends parents”. It’s admitting that before the event you had apprehensions about the quality of it, or doubted the person in question, whereas in reality, you wouldn’t have doubts about a top chef cooking a kickass bolognaise and chances are you do quite like living. I don’t know if you have any experience with the word “actually” but to me it was introduced by my family, mainly my mother. I don’t know why, perhaps things were just more surprising back then.

But my favourite use of language is something even I’m regularly guilty of. It’s what I call “delusions of self importance” It may sound like a complete knock off of “delusions of grandeur” and that’s because, well it is. Basically it’s a term I invented (I hope) that is to be used when someone uses a word that isn’t needed in a sentence, when another, more regular, down to earth word is more appropriate, like whenever I don’t want to sound like a “blogger” and say this is an “article”, it is really not an article, but by saying that, not only are people more impressed, but it makes ME feel better, and also makes other people feel inadequate, “Oh man, I wish I wrote articles.” You can hear them thinking. But it’s also used by the wider world, when they say something which makes them seem more important, if you’re observant you’ll realise he is only helping himself, not anyone else and probably feeding an oversized ego. Like I said, I’m very guilty of this. Though I would like to quickly add that this isn’t the same as when someone uses a higher register word, because chances are they are just better educated, or a pretentious tool.

Joe Strange

Gets to tick his chart today because he used “grandeur” in a sentence.

Life Offline

Today I'm going to be talking about something that is new to oh so many people on the internet, and that's life without the World Wide Web, or a computer for that matter.
Briefly I would like to say again sorry for not writing a proper blog last week but details can be found down there about the reasons for the blogs absence.

So, over the last few weeks (2 perhaps, maybe even 3) my visits to the computer screen and the large variety of websites I frequent have dwindled, and at some points I didn’t type anything or even turn on the screen for days at a time. But it's fine now, my computer is closer now, and most of the redecorating is done.

at first I thought it was strange not being at my desk a lot, at any possible time I would fire up the Acer and check my emails, but as I grew more tired from work and other "components" to my... rehab, were introduced, I found the need for MSN, Cracked and even this little website called face book (it's not very big, I doubt you've heard of it) dwindled away to almost nothing, causing me to fast the internet (not by all accounts of course, my Xbox live account still maintained a good workout.)

I don't know if you can put this down to laziness or me realising I don’t have to be refined by the shackles of technology, but I soon gave up the need to be at the computer at all, even breaking a vow I made to myself at the beginning of this blog of writing it once a week no matter what. Normally I would return from work of a day, go down into my room and "log on" but over this period, I didn’t have a computer in my room to log on to, nor did I have to go "down" into my room, since my new room is adjacent to my front door... Yeah I’m going to put it down to laziness.

But life offline has been actually pretty fulfilling, and isolating in equal measures.
for instance, for a brief time last week I had one of those social life things, I took it upon myself to come out of my hibernation state on the days I wasn't working and met with real life people, even enjoyed a movie, and then on Saturday, one of the most social events I've been to in a long time, (well since the last one) in which I went to a concert and made a new "friend" or 2. Granted with my lack of mobility and lack of time due to my heavy work hours (7 hours overtime on my last payslip) I did have to resort to technology to organise these things, but then hey, I never said I was going to be a techno-hermit. That itself conjures images of a beardy tramp raving to some Drum and Bass, and that my friends is not going to happen to me. It’s also allowed me to really relax (if you can call moving anything anywhere relaxing) when I was tired, or stressed, instead of whining to a friend and causing some aggravated tension over a screen I merely lay down on my bed put on the radio or a nice calming CD and relax for half an hour. Then I'd go to work because I realised I had fallen asleep and it was 8:55 the next morning.

But Apart from the slight change in a few social events, I think I can safely say that I prefer life online. I wired it all up last night, so I’m about 18 hours into having a computer and I’m already feeling the benefits, much like a junkie who has got a fix after being in rehab, except I’m not addicted. Yet.
Ok, so I don’t know how big a commitment you readers have to the internet, how many websites you “frequent” or how often you like to update things, in fact why don’t you leave a comment and tell me? But with me, I tend to have a few websites which are updated daily which I like to have a look at when I can, this takes from half an hour to an hour to do, a day. So as you can imagine after not really paying much attention to the internet for a few days, I had a whole lot of catching up to do, unfortunately my websites seemed to have updated more than usual and now I have a general feeling of being out of sync, and not just with the sites, with my friends. I don’t suppose any of you do the old trick of checking people’s statuses or PM’s to see what’s going on, but a lot of my friends have things I know nothing about. Now I grant you that the areas I know nothing about far surpass the areas I know a bit about and dwarf the areas I know a lot about (this really only includes comedy and converse, oh and harry potter. No shame there I suppose) but it still came as a shock, it’s similar as to when you go away for a holiday and come back and 2 of your friends are now seeing someone, or broken up or someone’s got an I phone, you know, really significant things. But it’s not all loneliness and cluelessness. For instance I am soon to be sort of replacing my current, loyal and all round good guy creative MP3 player (apply named Steve) for an IPod, so to prepare for this huge transition (when you rely on music to get you through your day as much as me, its not a choice that doesn’t need preparation) I have changed my media player from well, Media player, to iTunes, now before this me and iTunes had some, how the street kids call, beef, in the way I never understood anything it did ever. But know it’s sorted me and him are best friends, he even found me the 2nd Lazlo bane album, making him my super mega new best friend.

So in all, the internet is good, but as with everything, especially steak it should not be over done, or underdone.

Joe Strange
Never realised how many times I use a first person pronoun in my blog, it must make me sound very self obsessed. Well I know better.

This Weeks Entry.

I am only flying a visit by Blogger today, just to explain the absence of the blog this week, I haven't been able to A - find the time to write one over the last few days and B - had the will or energy to write one.

As I may have mentioned, I have recently been moving rooms, with my possessions scattered throughout the house, and I took a "Vow" not to move my computer into the room until its fully painted, unfortunately painting is taking longer than I thought, but I'm breaking my vow after today and moving it in tonight after the "main" wall is dried. the lack of a computer in my room has taken away the liberty of "Oh, ill write the blog now, or at least start it, Oh no, something less productive is on TV" So that's reason 1

the second reason is that i have been uncharacteristically working all the time for the last few days, this has left me without energy or motivation to do much at all, but after a "re energising" day yesterday and less hours in line for work next week, i should be recovered and ready to write again on Tuesday. So that's the second.

the third and most harrowing reason is as follows, 2 weeks ago a friend of mine, and the families, died in a motorcycle accident, it came as a huge shock to us since he was still young, and, to me, he was pretty damn invincible. But his Funeral was on monday, and surprisingly i was better than i thought, until Tuesday, when it hit me and i was mentally drained for the day. so that's the third reason.

So, I am sorry for the lack of humour and a proper blog this week, but schedule resumes as normal next week, with a new batch of activeness!

Joe Strange

I realise i had A and B as the first reasons, and 3 sections for reasons, but, i also included two reasons in A and B, cos I'm crazy like that.

The Art Of Passivity.

This week’s topic actually has an ironic twist to it, which is brilliant because I finally got to use the word "irony" (or its variations) in a blog.

So! Passivity is the action of well... doing nothing at all, so it isn't really an action, more of a state of being. I say this week’s blog is ironic for one reason (I would love to say 2 reasons, but there is only really one) You see, today I nearly didn’t write an article because I was tired, a bit ill and in all fairness wasn’t doing anything productive, so one may say I wasn’t doing anything. So I was being passive, and then I realised that you can think about so much, realise so much and achieve a brilliant mind set by just sitting there.

Ok, I here some of you saying, “Joe, you handsomely witty fiend, you have a computer how can you be sat there doing nothing with the entire internet in front of you.” Well I recently thought it would be a good idea to move to my large, hot, blue bedroom to my sister’s old slightly smaller, cold and red bedroom. I know it sounds like a down grade but it; is closer to the kitchen, means I get my own bath/shower and is further away from the end of the house where the parents live, and so when I come home at night I don’t need to wake them. It also means I get to re-realise how much of a bastard my bed is to put back together and take apart is, oh and there is painting to be done which means music, a stereo and a paint roller, and yet another question of my sexuality (I’m up to 9 confirmed inquisitions)

So, where was I? Anyway we are about halfway through the moving process, and as previously stated I have moved the bed, drawers and a desk into the room, along with most my clothes and the most important belongings. But my computer still remains in my old room.

This means that I have been detached from the PC for a while, it’s been good for me, it means that I have rediscovered old joys, like reading not because I am on a train or bus, but because I’m bored. Earlier I was listening to the second series of “Mark Watson Makes the World Substantially Better” and just lying on my bed, it was the most peaceful (if you excuse Tom Basden’s lovely singing) I’ve had in quite a while.

So this got me thinking, when was the last time you sat down, or lay down and did nothing, just stared and thought? For me, it is the few times I forget my MP3 when I go to college and just sit on the bus and stare out the window, it’s really very thought provoking and can lead to some amazing observations and insane cognitions.
And I know in today’s society everyone has to be doing something or else they just feel like they’re “wasting time” similar to when people walk into a high class expensive shop and go “Oh I feel like I’m spending money just by standing here” and you cant help but think to yourself... Yes mother, you’re at the till. So instead of just sitting there spending time, or wasting money, get a nice relaxing album, I propose Jack Johnson (if it helped me fail my GCSE French Oral it can help you relax.) or a book that isn’t going to make you ponder the meaning of life, like maybe pick up a harry potter that you’ve already read or the bible. At this point I would discourage any autobiographies written by sports figures, since we are trying to relax the brain not destroy it with dull-ness, the same reason I would not advise reading this blog for this exercise.

And I’m pretty sure that this sort of “stationary progression” is more useful than busy bodies would have us believe. This spark of inspiration, and ultimately what lead to me actually keeping a weekly deadline, came about from me doing nothing. This small little thing came about from me not using the internet for a couple of hours when I could have easily abandoned my lovely new room and ventured into the new “store room” and played mindless games for 120 minutes. Now think back to Edison, or Da Vinci, I’m pretty sure they didn’t have the internet back in “their days” so therefore we have to assume, and assume correctly that the reason they were such brilliant people was because they sat around and did nothing all day.

Joe Strange

It is proven that evil masterminds such as Hitler and Jack the Ripper also had no internet, therefore sat around and did nothing, so it works for brilliant geniuses and evil masterminds, laziness is a 2 way street after all.

My Festival Education

So with Glastonbury behind us now, I didn’t go but I was assured it was an insane experience, my thoughts this weeks go to festivals and all round excitement about events.

First of all there’s the excitement for the smallest happenings, a party? Everyone prepare with military precision who, what, when where, and then get ready with the hilarious anecdotes about what the crazy guy did that night. There’s always one, and if you don’t know them, you probably are them. In fact it goes further than the preparation, some small events are so saturated with alcohol, flashing lights and squirrels, that it seem like the biggest party in history even if it is just a drink down the pub that went a bit far. Now speaking of a bit far, I’m a relatively calm guy, I’m not one for getting “wrecked” or snorting sherbet through a toilet roll tube (it’s all the rage apparently). But that’s not to mean I don’t enjoy a few glasses of pimms and watching my butler juggle the family cats. But there are some people I know, no names but a lot of respect to these crazy people, which will see my few pimms and a juggling butler and raise me a crate of absinthe and a butler with the hiccoughs swallowing swords. These people truly are insane. They make horrendous claims such as “it must have been a good night, I don’t remember a thing” that sounds rather inconvenient, especially since you can’t figure out how you lost a kidney and grew an extra toe. And my favourite, “F***, What A F***ing Awesome Weekend. Alcohol, Unknown Drunken Injuries, Drink Driving On Dodgems, Sickness, Studio Bar, Skinny Dipping.... F*** Glasto, The Party Is Right Here.” (edited for your young pretty little minds)
This guy is so excited about a small celebration that he said to Glastonbury; “No, screw you, and your atmosphere and music, I’m fine being inebriated at a fair ground”

Before this year Glastonbury never really appealed to me, bands who I most likely won’t like, mud everywhere and sleeping out in the cold? When you’re as picky with music as me you get hesitant about spending a lot of money to see a few bands, most of which you’re not sure of if you can even stand. Of course you say that to any music fanatic and they will assure you, with a lot of force, I mean a lot of insistence, non of which is violent, that it’s not just a “few” bands, and in fact the atmosphere is something not to be scoffed at, in fact some say it is to be gawped at, and that if you say this again they will shove a small, claustrophobic mammal down your throat so it can reside there until the fear gets too much and it claws it’s way out. Apparently. So I now I have been educated in the awesomeness that is Glastonbury and the music there, I still have to be persuaded that the mud, strangers, cold and over all socialising is all worth it. It’s apparent that it is, according to eye witness reports, it doesn’t always rain at “Glasto”, not every one is going to murder you and jumpers are on sale everywhere. Oh and socialising isn’t all that bad either.

And well, looking at the past line up, well the one that was this weekend, there are so many stages and acts I must like at least one of them right? Yeah I thought so. It may be because I’m only a country boy trying to live the city life (on the basis I know how a computer works) but previously I thought all people wanted to hurt me. Who wouldn’t, with all this scare mongering about killers and stuff? I was also under the impression that the cold would kill you and that the only good company to keep was tree’s, sheep, and people you’ve known ever since you learnt to judge character. But apparently my West Country teaching was all a lie, and the above facts aren’t even true!
So I’m sold, on Glastonbury.

This all came to me about 9 months ago (it was just under 9 months later that I realised Glastonbury might not be terrible) when I was at a BBQ on one of the sunny days in the abyss of terrible weather that was last years “Summer”. I was talking to a new “friend” about comedy (my go to conversation) when some drunk old man comes into the kitchen and leans over the counter to us and says in a gravelly yet wise voice. “I couldn’t help overhearing that you like comedy” yes I replied to the drunken mentor. “Well may I kindly suggest…” a very long pause. Yes I thought, you can suggest anything kindly, just don’t bring out a blade (I was still under the impression all people where out to get me by now) “… that you go to the Edinburgh festival, its full of comedy, and some gigs are free, and you can heckle at the crap ones” Great I thought, it had already crossed my mind. But my doubts about the huge venues and lack of funds had kept me back from seriously thinking about it until then, but this drunken guy had told me it wasn’t too much of a problem, and so far he hadn’t brought a knife to my throat so he also threw that “lie” out of the water.

So a year or so later, I have decided to get my act together and organise a trip to Edinburgh for the festival in august, 5 days of comedy and theatre shows, and so far, in the planning stages it hasn’t blown up too badly. In fact we are almost ready to go, just got to wait until the date and save up for what will most likely be the funniest, most expensive 5 days of my ever so short life thus far.

Joe strange

I’m taking a break from my usual comical quips to say that during my Edinburgh trip I will most likely be keeping a blog and will have a few videos of the trip. How I intend to keep the “real time” blog without a computer, I don’t know, I may do a retrospective blog on the Saturday when I get back to Cornwall. So stay tuned!

There's Been A Murder!

Call it what you want, it's man's greatest invention, it keeps us from going insane, it keeps us from hurting ourselves and overall progressing as a species.

I'm talking of course about procrastination. Dirty as that sounds, it's also none as "Time Wasting" "Killing the Clock" and "Doing it Dreckly" if your cornish, which is how we do everything we do ever. It's not "Tim's Special Time", "The Reasons Why Cornflakes Were Invented" or "The Reason Your Single"
(Second paragraph and the masturbation joke is in the bag. Brilliant.)

See now as a teenage Cornish Male I am a god when it comes to "putting off today what I can do tomorrow"; Piece of coursework to hand in? Its due on Monday, it'll be fine. Girl of your dreams to ask out? She'll still be single tomorrow! Handing in that witness report? He wont kill on a Sunday surely?
What I'm saying is that time isn't meant to be killed, but it is. It's like how we're suppose to have 5 fruit and veg a day, we say we do it, but we don't. We say we are working, but we're just watching people on youtube catch fire.

And don't say you don't cos just like with "Jim's Special Time", we know you do it, we all do it, and it's nothing to be ashamed of.

No today I want to advertise procrastination some of the best discoveries of mankind I'm sure are down to this wonderfully dirty sounding word, How else do you think scientists found about liquid you can punch, throw and run on, yes run on

The yo-yo, the football, the Wayne Rooney are all examples of when man had too much time on his hands and decided to screw mother nature and make fun with things that aren't twigs and berries. or rocks... unless cave-dude invented that cos he got tired of listening to his cave-wife's whining.

Even things that make up our diet are due to man's wandering brain and inquisitive (some may say creepy) tendencies. Think about milk, who saw a cow and thought, "Hey! that giant dog has four erect pink things I'm sure something lovely will happen if I tug them in sequence" I'm sure he was disappointed with the taste of the stuff that came out, but someone wasn't and look, we now have 3 types of cow juice, colour coordinated, hard cow juice to put on toast and crackers and slightly softer cow juice to spread on bread and to lube a fat kid with when he gets stuck in a slide. Now cast your mind to eggs. Where do they come from? Chickens, lovely animals to eat, but which sick SOB was sitting their eyeing up his dinner and thought "Im sure that hard white thing that the dinner crapped out will taste lovely with some pig and cow milk!" and that's when the omelette was born.

Procrastination also helped me get over the futility of my revision and exam period, psychology was just around the corner, and knowing I didn't have enough time to learn the entire syllabus I sat down, got my books out and of course, I learnt how to throw cards. Today whilst I'm sure I could have been working on research or something I found myself having a throwing card fight under some stairs. Am I a better person because of it? Hell yeah I have the mark on my face to prove I need to procrastinate more and learn how to dodge better.

My favourite example of procrastination I've ever committed was this time last year, my Science GCSE exam was coming up and, as much as I needed and wanted to revise for the modules on chemistry, biology and astrology or whatever it was, so i sat down at my computer, pulled up the internet and bitesize, realised that was useless, realised my books were in my locker and started to write a story, the story turned out to be a 5 chapter beginning and was never finished because it went missing. So I was putting off revising for one exam, by revising for another exam. Thats procrastination at it's best.

But unfortunately as much fun as time wasting is, it has got a bad reputation because of the fact teenagers do it, and in all fairness, it may help with many useless talents and fun new abilities, it doesn't help you progress with work, relationships or the ultimate goal of finding out what it was that was in starburst joosters which made them so delicious and so deadly.

Joe Strange

If you were effected by any issues in this weeks blogs send a formal letter of complaint to your nearest Tescos. Every Little Helps.

I Need You Boots Your Clothes And You To Stop Poking Me.

This Week I want to talk about thresholds, and not the boundaries around your house, that'd be a boring subject. Well less boring than this one anyway.

So the idea for this one came from a pretty surreal source, and like most small thoughts they evolved into something that actually I thought I may be able to write about. How wrong was I? I was watching Terminator 2 a few nights ago and I don't know if you've seen it but there is a scene where a little kid pokes Arnie in the cheek about 4 times, and since he's a robot, he isn't allowed to show emotions. Now think how many takes that scene actually took? I know he's a great actor and all but I'd get ruddy peeved off if a kid kept jabbing me in the face, and since the first rule of showbiz is not to work with kids, we have to immediately assume that the reason behind this is because kids make everyone annoyed with their crying and whining and ballsing up, so if he add a fair 15 takes onto that and times the amount of times Arnie gets poked (4) we get 60 pokes in the face. I would not have the threshold for that much facepokery, so on that note I thought to myself as I lie in bed, "what is my threshold for annoyance, and anything else for that matter?"

Annoyance
As previously mentioned my threshold for annoyance doesn't succeed a few pokes in the face. Ever since i was a kid I had a short fuse, I suppose it comes with having such ammunition as a surname, I got tired of jokes easily and I still cant stand someone repeating themselves over again, so that scene in terminator would have been very different if I was the Austrian body builder. this also accounts for the reason my acting career will never take flight, since imagine if there was a job where you have to repeat yourself 100's of times? Devastating.

Pain
Now here's a fun one, my threshold for pain is the equivalent to that of a small child thrown against a wall by an Austrian body builder after 1 too many pokes to the face. I am truly terrible with pain, in fact I seem to be cursed with this since every time I say that sentence; "I Don't Like Pain" I seem to get into an accident which proves my point exactly, last year whilst on a bike ride I said to a friend, I don't like pain, and I fell down a "cliff" (See Big Hill) and couldn't move for 2 days. On the beach the other day, a mere hour after stating the claim I attempted a downhill cartwheel chain and buggered my wrist up royally. I say royally, most people could have shock it off, but not this small child thrown against a wall! So Expect me next week to be talking about an accident with a brick involving my head since I've said "the" phrase twice in the last paragraph

Bad Comedy
I'm willing to give anything a chance, a sitcom, a stand up, a whiny celebrity with some merit. But I find it hard to put up with things I feel so strongly about, like drugs, abortion and the over use of the word random in today's youth. For instance I am not the worlds biggest fan of Dane Cook. He's a terrible comedian who isn't funny and steals other peoples jokes, plus he just LOOKS like a douchebag, and I have attempted to give him a chance I have, I watched him kill a theatre full of peoples sense of humour for 10 minutes straight, I watched him ruin the great film "waiting" hell, I even sat through "my best friends wedding" but he just isn't funny, in fact, I'd go as far to say he is UN funny. and a douche, don't forget that.

Film
My threshold for Film is also controlled by a few ground rules: If there are more than 3 explosions, various one liners, a guy that looks like Ben Folds or robots in the trailer, i will most likely see it, if the title ends in "....Movie" I wont touch it, if it has Keanu Reeves, the acting will most likely be more like cardboard than a "Shreddies" box, for full frontal nudity of Jason Segal there must be at least 1 hot actress. per testicle. and finally when it comes to chick flicks, soppy stories, rom com's involving Colin Firth, or a film where the pet is the mian character, the rule all boyfriends and dating men should abide by to avoid disappointment, If It gets Me Laid, It Gets Played.

Joe Strange

Attempted to go an entire blog about poking faces without mentioning Pokerface.

The Television Graveyard

The television article saga is coming to an end, a joint cheer for some, a faint whisper for others. Me? I just thought I'd round the trilogy of TV off with something that can frustrate and delight so many people, Television Cancellations.

The TV graveyard has taken many a dear show of mine, and now, during the "current economical climate" as some people are calling it. I never really understood what happened, something about someone selling too much money or banks not making enough hedges, but anyway, it turns out it is important since it is effecting our television and enjoyment. Last week I mentioned how reality TV is cheap to make, whereas more in depth telly is more expensive, especially if you, like me, enjoy explosions and the special effects, I'm looking at you Heroes. So because of this, the networks have decided to cut some of our most loved shows, we had a prior warning when NBC dropped Scrubs, which was picked up majestically by ABC, who then realised they couldn't afford to pay the wages and had to finish it in a spectacular finale. (then realising they wanted it back with half the cast for at least another season)

But as we wave goodbye to another season of brilliant television (subjective of course, I'm looking at you Heroes), writers, directors, actors and viewers all wait biting their nails to see if their show will be the new headstone in the cemetery. One of my favourite shows; the demon filled Reaper was cancelled after a mid season start and poor viewings. well that's what the CW will tell you, why would they cancel a show with such a dedicated cult following (similar to my beloved Chuck)? The same reason I had to turn down that lovely lady in Vegas, cost. Reaper was full of effects, wit, groovy camera shots and a large cast, which made it a given to be cancelled.

so with the public's favourites like, Reaper, My Name Is Earl Pushing Daisies and The Sarah Conner Chronicles all taking the 6 foot Deep Sleep does that mean that all our shows are doomed? If the networks don't take notice of us, what's to stop them taking away our Big Bang Theory, our How I Met Your Mother our House? They don't listen so why should we even bother complaining?
My friends, enemies, and nay sayers I give you the golden boy of comebacks, the phoenix of the talky box *fan-fair*...Chuck.

WB's Chuck and the Air have been on and off more times than Ross and Rachel, and like Ross and Rachel they finally ended up together, that analogy worked surprisingly well actually. Thanks to endless campaigns, badges and a 300-esk march on a Birmingham subway chuck was renewed after a killer season finale, obviously learning from their writer strike scare last year to let their finale go of with a bang. people rejoiced and danced in the streets like we had seen Poland beat Germany in a game of squash to make up for all the crap they put them through. The underdog had won and we had another season to look forward to come autumn. We like that.

So similar to a family pet, if you take care of TV, make sure you keep watch over it, feed it with viewing figures and brush it free of the mediocre crap, ur I mean fleas, then it'll be loving in return, and if it doesn't do what you want make a big enough noise and it'll be your bitch.

Joe Strange

67% of his analogies actually make some coherent sense.

Britain's Got Empathy

Considering last week I talked about secondary characters in TV and the media, today I'm going to continue that streak of media, mainly television.

Well, as most of you will have heard "Britain's got the X factor" finished on Friday night and whether you watch it or not, you must of heard some of the crazy stories coming from it, the main reason for this being that the news is talking about it more than Clarkson talks about foxes, which is a lot. With a lot of these reality tv programs I tend to steer clear, who's coming out of the jungle? I don't care, but if it's mentioned that some deadbeat celeb' got jiggly with a banana tree or an ex footballer got attacked by an alligator, you can bet your house that I'll know all about it. but when it comes to these talent shows, the only reason I tune in at all is to watch the auditions, cos who doesn't love a crazed sith lord dancing to Michael Jackson? just a little note, he made it to the semi finals, you can see it here, give it a go, it's hilarious.

So, back to Fridays final. I always thought that like me, people tuned into watch idiots in fancy dress be torn down by Simon Cowell, or to see some surprisingly good dance by some kids or something, you know to have a good laugh at people a million times braver than us, apparently not, 19 million people tuned in on Friday to watch the final, the highest viewing figures ever since the dawn of time, and by the dawn of time I mean 2003, OK, so it isn't a huge deal, but it's something that got me thinking.

Reality shows are cheap to make, they cost hardly anything really, compared to hugely awesome shows such as the American "heroes" or our "Dr Who" and as we can see, people now are taking interest in the stories as oppose to just laughing when some old guy with his trousers too high say that a 60 year old puppy juggler has no chance. That's right, Britain has empathy. If you don't believe me then look at all this uproar about this Susan Boyle character (just one story of the millions.) Now I wont pretend to care what went wrong in the final, but apparently she is suffering exhaustion, and a child involved with the show also is in trauma or dead or something bad because Simon said some nasty things.

So Reality shows dominate the airwaves because they are cheap and now people of Britain actually care, they are getting brilliant viewing figures. so does this mean the end for brilliant dramas or comedies like "How I met your mother" "Dr Who" "House" "Heroes" and all the other well thought out, well acted (occasionally) and well loved shows? No, it doesn't, and Ill tell you one reason why, well I could give you a million reasons why. Ill ask you, does anyone remember Steve Brookstein? What about Brian Dowling? Or even Racheal Rice? Any one remember? No, well they are all winners of reality shows of television past. What about "Martin Hoberg Hedegaard" well you shouldn't really, he's the 2008 winner of Denmark's Xfactor. The reason these shows just wont succeed is simple, they are like the television version of milk, really good for bringing in the money, but have a shelf life as long as Tom Cruise is tall. they're not like shows such as "vicar of Dibley", or "only fools and horses", real British comedy which people still remember today people forget about them as soon as the next one comes along. which is why proper television will always prevail, because people can remember more than one sitcom at a time.

Joe Strange

I say we'll forget them all, but I will NEVER forget Darth Jackson. Ever.

Seconds anyone?

So, something I have thought about for a long time now; in films, TV, books, video games, any form of entertainment media, The secondary characters are always the show stealer's.

Think about the best sitcoms around today, now my bias may come through here but, Scrubs, How I Met Your Mother, Chuck, The Big Bang Theory, The Simpsons And Family Guy. I mean do you really prefer JD over Dr Cox? Barney will always steal a scene from Ted Or Robin, Jeff, Casey, Sheldon, Kuthripoli, Willie, Ralf and the incarnations of Bill Cosby all beat their main characters to the metaphorical punch(line). Now Don't get me wrong, I love the main characters, they drive the show, and I'm not saying that we should scrap them and make way for the second in commands. But the phenomenal characters that we get from this, a prime example is How I Met Your Mother, in season 1 Barney was an awesome, suit wearing, womanising 1 dimensional character, now 3 seasons later he's a awesome, suit wearing womanising 2 dimensional character because the writers realise he's an asset, making the viewing experience better for all of us. of course using a second character for views and laughs is all fun and games until it goes too far.

"If Secondary characters be the food of laughs, give us excess of it." Yeah you do that and you will burst in an implosion of a thing I like to call lack-of-story-amite, a hilarious implosion, but a breakdown all the same. A brilliant example of this is a very beloved show for a lot of people I know, "The Big Bang Theory". When this first started we were told it will be a show about Penny and Leonard, but now, with the second season at an end, I can't help to think we may as well change the name to "the Sheldon Show". 67% of the airtime of that show is now "sheldon does something funny" I mean don't get me wrong, I love it. But it stops a good comedy, from becoming a great show.

Now I complain about these characters being both a blessing and a curse for a television show, but what about the Barney and Sheldon's of the big screen? Well In a sense, the rule about "Little Airtime = great characters" stands for these as well,since we don't become as attached to these characters we don't question it when they stick a polecat down their trousers and run around a police station. When I think about a few recent comedies that come to mind now, Forgetting Sarah Marshal, Dodgeball(recent?), Anchorman, All the secondary characters shine through, Who doesn't love Paul Rudd's watchless surfer in FSM, Or Pete the Pirate in Dodgeball? And who can look me in the screen and say to me, I prefer Ron Burgundy over Brick Tamland? No one, because they are all amazing.

I often think that perhaps they should have had more time, or perhaps another movie for them, then realise, No. that would involve getting to know them, and having a serious character development. can you truly imagine Tamland going through a divorce?

I can, and it would be Hilarious. Not Good. Hilarious.

Now looking back a few more years, to shows and films passed, you realise this is a fairly new phenomenon, friends didn't have an amazing secondary cast. Kenan And Kel was all about the orange soda and catdog, Pinky and the Brain, they had themselves to make funnies. It seems the 90's were a time of doubleacts, and groups, this is the comedy of the 90's, but for the '00's I can assure you it is secondary characters, so sit back, relax cos Barney isn't going anywhere.

Joe Strange

All data presented in this blog is 100% accurate. Don't check, just trust me.

Nature Deserves An ASBO

First of all, I am dreadfully sorry about my fortnightly absence, It seems college and exams got the better of me and I was too strained to write, or do anything for that matter, even revise.

Now to this weeks topic.

Today, on one of my many walks around my village, I decided to take a scenic route to my house, as oppose to the straight line that I normally take. A straight line to and from somewhere? Why that's impossible! I disagree, While turning on the spot may, to passers by, make you look like an indecisive fool, it has it's uses if you live in a relatively linear village. So, I walked straight passed my house and went down A delightful country lane. Down this lane I happened upon a majestic, colourful, regal pigeon, well a large pigeon, it could very well have been a pheasant. Anyway, this inquisitive creature was poking around a garden, most likely trying to find a way into the abode to steal an MP3 player, I hear they fetch a high price on the foul market.
Now, as I live in the estate of the village and only ever leave to go to college or work this was a rare sight for me. I reached for my camera to catch the culprit in the act of theft, but I was too slow and it hopped to the next garden, I proceed to pursue the thief but was outmatched by the fact that god preferred them over us and gave birds wings.
The sad thing is I will most likely see that bird on the nearby road since people insist on driving 1,000,000 MPH along my village.

And then, continuing my walk, having had a bitter taste of wildlife "photography" and by the term I mean pointing the camera at the bird, and then catching only the garden as it has flown away. (A very nice garden it is too.) I grasp my camera looking for more fluffy creatures or more of gods examples of favouritism. not long was I strolling along the meandering lane as I stopped, looked down to my feet and saw a small wild rabbit staring at me in the face. This brought back fond memories of when I was walking along the road to work and stopped, looked down to see a small brown rabbit staring me down, I stepped cautiously to try not to startle it it bolted towards the road, and then back into the hedge, once again I cursed god for not giving me that comically quick movement, I smiled at seeing the lovely 'ickle bunny and continued on. My fond memories brought to a halt as I remember the poor brown shape that lay on the same road two days before. The rabbit had gone, AND the bastard has stolen my MP3 player.

So after being mugged, and slowly being convinced nature is a hoodie, I decide to take the back route to my house, now this involves climbing an overgrown hedge and traversing a tree and THEN clambering over the fence. I haven't done this for a few years and forgot what neglect can do to both a body and a back entrance. I swung over some nettles using an overhead branch, and then pulled myself up the bank using another branch, pleased at my efforts I smiled, peered over the fence to realise, this was not my house. Nor was the one to the left or right of me, in fact my house was 2 houses along from this one. Obviously in precautions for the Thieving ferrets or scheming squirrels of the neighbourhood, this branch was fitted with an anti burglar device and broke, I, thinking fast reached for the overhead branch, unfortunately my ankle had attracted some thorns and this stopped me from avoiding the fall, tearing my jeans and causing me to fall into a mixture of nettles and rocks. Disgruntled I walked around and came in the front door, where I proceeded to write to you. Because I care about you and don't want you to get mugged by a rabbit, assaulted by a vine or tricked by a pheasant.

So in conclusion, Stay inside make less attempts to change your routine, because nature is a bully who wants your dinner money.

Joe Strange
Proceeding outside can cause many side effects, worst of all the horrible growth known as a social life, you have been warned.

1,2,3,4: I Declare A Gang War

OK, so last week I talked about how I am really fed up of deadlines, now that was something which had been slowly chipping away at my sanity like some sort of annoyance woodpecker, now tonight, I am talking about something that, instead of a woodpecker is a full grown ostrich tearing at my sanity. Now I don't like to complain too much, but I think tonight's topic is going to be a home hitter for everyone, Young People.

Now I'm not talking about my age group, or older, or even slightly younger, in fact I think the cut off point is 15. you see, at 16 -18 year old we are finding our way in the world, choosing things that actually matter, and making important life decisions, now I don't want to get on my high horse, mainly because that would involve either a step ladder or the ability to ask for help, both of which I am lacking, but see 15 year olds and younger, they are all just trying to grow up too fast.

"thanks for stating the obvious there Joe." I hear you say, well stop shouting so loud and let me speak, you see, kids aren't just putting make up on by the time they are toddling, or drinking drinks that are blue enough to make your discretion look like a depressed smurf by the time they learn the ABC, they, oh wait another one, or having sex before they turn double digits, anyway, they're not just doing all these crazy things that they assume are "cool" or "hip" (yes in that sentence I was playing the part of the geography teacher who is "Down with the kids" you know who you are and you make me sick) you see those who aren't in a hurry to catch an STI or to kill their liver before they start developing an immune system, they're too worried about taking on responsibility that they shouldn't have.

I know this, because I was one of those kids, the ones that didn't have any fun in their early teens. You see, pressure is being piled on young people now a days more than make up is piled on Angelina Jolie. At 6 they have their first standardised test, at 11 they have to choose what secondary school they want to go to, at 14 they have to choose their options, now this one really annoys me, schools emphasise the importance of these options, saying that they will shape your life forever, which is pure and utter, 100% natural organic bull plop.

For instance, I took History at GCSE, sensible choice I hear you say? Once again stop speaking so loudly, and no it wasn't, at A level, I'm doing psychology, media, English and drama. Well those subjects have some good aspects of history in them? No they don't, not the way GCSEs give you everything you need on the island which is the exam, lifeboat of correct phrasing, the flare of answering technique, and I see a distinct lack of the ham sandwich of background knowledge! do schools not realise we take these subjects because we enjoy learning about it, and we want to know about it, not about how to answer the question.

So kids today have taken it upon them to shape themselves much too early, and have therefore seen the adult gang films, and realised, "adults are like that, I think we should be like that too!"
This is were all the negative stigma which is associated with young people stems from walk around a town and tell me with an honest face that you are not even the smallest amount intimidated when a group, neigh, swarm of small, addidas clad, cap wearing, trainer scuffing gnats slowly laze towards you. You can't, it is all ridiculous, this is also were the idea of cliques and social norm comes from, gangs! groups of friends you hang out with at primary grow into people you barely recognise at secondary, and then you are part of the swarm, scaring old biddies off they're flymo.

Now here is my solution, when you have kids, be it 2 years, 20 years, or even right now, please don't let them get overwhelmed, talk to them and tell them, the big choices don't start until they turn 15 or 16. Then they can start stressing, having sex and drinking radioactive waste. or else, like me you'll just spend thousands of pounds per annum on ostrich repellent.

Joe Strange
Really hopes his old geography teacher doesn't have his new address.

Expendable Deadlines.

First of all let me apologise for not updating in a LONG time, because it's sort of ironic since work load and work related problems is what I'm going to talk about. One thing we all prepare for, we dread if we aren't prepared, and we cant wait to be over. No, not the awkward first date with a life long friend, not attempting to move the huge fat guy that passed out on you at that wild party you went to, not even accurately and in brilliant, graphic detail explaining to your lecturer how your bowel movements have had you more committed to your bathroom than a 14 year old who had their first shot and that is the reason you haven't been attending classes, none of these things, but Deadlines.

Deadlines are like the rotten grape of time (yes in this analogy your mere existence is being turned into a fruit basket), you get it, inevitably. You pick it up, throw it to the back of the basket (your mind)and leave it there, carelessly. Little do you know the rottenness is actually a bacterial grape infection and will pass onto all your other fruit, eventually, as all the grapes are gone, all you are left with is a few mouldy pears, a brown banana and the one grape. The deadline. You have to eat that grape, or else you wont get your 5 a day, and we know how bad that is in this health crazed society (or miss the deadline in this analogy keep with me!)you think, oh that's fine, ill just help my self to a pear of socialising or a banana of relationships, but no, the deadline has infected them too, making it impossible for you to eat anything until the grape is gone.

If you followed that you are a saint.

What I'm saying is that deadlines, when not dealt with properly will destroy your life, even if you just threw the grape a little to the back, it wouldn't have screwed up the relationship with the girl in your drama class you have been silently admiring for the last month.(the banana) and if you had dealt with the project, assignment, payment as soon as you could have, you would have had a whole fruit basket for yourself.

But see now, lets say, you stomach it, you eat the grape, your project that you spent 8 hours painstakingly cutting down to fit to the word limit is finished, the deadline is today, your elated, once this day is over your finished with it. You look smugly around the class, to your left, a person is scribbling on what seems to be a mixture of napkin and toilet paper, to your right, a young woman explaining to your lecturer, in graphic detail, how she could see the complete contents of her lunch in her stools over the last 3 weeks. You looked down with a proud smile at your glistening folder, you put off a date with the cute girl from drama to finish this early, she understood, admired your for your commitment to your studies and allowed you a second try. This grape was nothing compared to the HUGE banana waiting next Friday at 7. You make eye contact with your lecturer, stand up and pass him your folder.
"Oh yes, well due to the fact that Timmy has ink on the last of the buildings toilet paper and Jenny has been inebriated, the deadline has been shifted to next week"
In the history of the universe has never been a better use of the verb "Face Palm"

That is my problem with deadlines, they pester you for weeks, then when they come around, they get moved, and moved and moved. Let me tell you, this would never have happened with the fat guy.

Joe Strange
Perhaps banana was the wrong fruit to use for relationships.

My Attempts at Creative Writing.

So, since I'm doing a English Course at college, I am having a go at some creative writing, and in class we had to write a few short openings or stories, so here they are. The first one, based on the Gothic style (as are most of the shorts, mainly due to the fact that that is the required genre) the 2nd one based on the sentence "A homeless man is looking into a luxurious house on Christmas eve, the 3rd and 4th are very similar, the 1st one based on the snow we have had in the last month, the second one is a slightly more sinister approach to the previous script.

The Castle (working title)
“Go on, I dare you” Steve said with a laugh. “Unless you’re chicken”
“No one calls me chicken!” I shouted back; already battling through the rain, climbing over the broken, rotting fence and slipping up the cobbled path.
“Besides, what’s the worse that could happen?” I added, tripping on a protruding rock and face planting the muddy floor. The water, surging down the meandering path cascaded over my face. Wiping my eyes, I looked up. The Lynchfield Manor loomed over the village of Witch-wikety, paralysing the residents with fear. The tall spikes pierced the dark sky which was heavy with ominous clouds. As lightening crackled and flashed in the distance the castle cast sinister contours through the sheet of rain, which raced down my back, alongside a shiver that chilled my bones. My clothes were heavy with water. Stumbling up the path, covering my face with the palm of my hand, I slipped again. Catching myself once more I looked back, but the fence let alone Steve’s spindly figure were gone, they had been enveloped in the oncoming mist and rain. Alone I continued up the damned path I was close enough now to see a solid silhouette of the castle. Suddenly my heart sank, my brain froze and a shiver big enough to hit the Richter scale ran down my spine, a yellow hue appeared in one of the spires. A room light. I couldn’t go back, I wasn’t chicken. I had to go in.

A Man (Working Title)
Sheets of snow pelted the heap of rags which lay contorted on the paving; it shifted closer to the stone wall, in the hope of absorbing the heat which emanated from the warm noisy room which lay concealed behind it, the smell of roast duck leaked through the window above the heap which began to stir. A figure rose from the dark pile, it peered into the window gripping the snow laden frame, a nose pressed against the cold glass, he saw a child run around a glittering Christmas tree, covered in bawl balls that rotated peacefully whilst the star on top twinkled as though the light from the ebony fire was concealed inside the ornament itself. Another child ran past the tree, tinsel flowing behind him, he tripped on a toy, a red wooden train, and fell to the burgundy carpet; tears flooded the child’s eyes. A young, beautiful woman strode over to the fallen youth and held him against her frilled dress; the faint sobbing was soon overcome by her soft singing. The figure stepped away slowly from the window into the consuming snow, a tear froze on his cheek as he shuffled into the moonlight, stepping away from the house for the second instance this Christmas.

Snow
6.46 am. The ceiling of grey seals away any of the early dawn that could exist on a cold heavy February morn. The torrents of snow assaults the roads, houses and beaches, footsteps left by early scufflers and post deliverers fade away under fresh sheets of the invasion. The Yellow hue of the street lighters is obscured by the swarm of flakes. The tide desperately repels the white, alien substance, but to no avail. The docked boats indistinguishable to the parked cars. A stray cat, caught in the attack seeks shelter in an overturned bin which could easily be mistaken for a tree trunk. The snow bombards the roads that were so under prepared for such an onslaught that they succumb to their assailant, cutting off the small village from the outer world. Faint lights appear all around; life stirs as the chime rings for 7.

Black Ice
6.46 am. The bleak insipid charcoal coat seals away any hope that accompanies the chance of an early dawn on a cold, constricting February morn. The torrent of white assaults the desolate paths, roads and houses. Footsteps long since left by early scufflers and post deliverers are inexistent in the bare paving which is covered in the new invasion. The flicker of a street lighter casts an ominous hue through the swarm of flaks. A morning tide feebly battles the white alien substance. Docked boats undistinguishable from their tarmac counter parts. A figure lamely limps to an overturned bin for shelter; the new sanctuary straining under the weight of its foreign cover. The assailant from the sky bombards the desolate roads which lie as forgotten as the village it connects to. Even though strands of light begin to forlornly struggle through the wall of cloud no life stirs at the chime of 7.

With This Carrot...

...I christen you Frosty Mc Snow-Face, that's right its only ruddy snowing! Oh yes, the day you realise whether your a kid or an adult, Snow Day. In my opinion, You realise that your no longer a kid at heart when you look out the window to see the beautiful white landscape, children rolling a giant ball of snow soon to be Mrs Frost Mc Snow-Face with their parents, a robin fluttering down onto a fresh patch of snow to be scared off by a white puppy who was hidden in the snow, and extremely excited since they've never seen it before, to look down and see children falling off sledges and still laughing as they are pelted in the face with a snow ball and you see all this and think... "The A38 is going to be hellish."

I love the snow, I'm 16 and yesterday it started snowing in an A level English Lesson, Even our lecturer was excited. I bounded to the window and cried a squeal of joy. I love it, Sure its only frozen water falling from the sky, but we never have it (Granted we never have fire falling from the sky, but still) and think of all you can do with snow, Snowmen, Snowballs, Snow Angels, Snow Devils, Snow Forts, Write your name, its amazing, but still, a few flakes of snow has the country on red alert, Business shut for the day, people are stuck with their families and friends and schools close, surely one day a year of this is not a problem, surely it would do our inpatient, selfish lifestyle some good, I mean I enjoy spending time with family and friends, and to build a snow man with a long lost friend is one of the best feelings in the world! besides, do you really think that people are sitting there in their houses as someone runs in the door shaking off that flaky, whitey goodness saying that Bob The Barber's is shut, thinking "Oh no! I needed a haircut today, it cannot wait for another day, it must be" - wait this is England of course there are people doing that.

England, now we are a stupid country, as I said, A few flakes of snow and the country is in lock down, people can not move, and children are having fun, that's right, FUN! The French are laughing at us, they can handle snow, so can Switzerland and Austria, hell Even Canada is laughing at us! Canada! We are being shamed by Canada!

So as Unpredictable England’s weather is, you can never say it's boring, I mean I was outside today with some old friends and it started to hail, then snow and hail at the same time. In all fairness snow is a lot of fun, especially if you’re a kid at heart.

Later Snow Days