At the end of January I created my Shotley Gate webpage, and made a public stand against the local trend of annexing land using nothing more than a few fence panels and a joyful disregard for the law. So five months on, what effect has my campaign had? Yes, that's right, my next door neighbours are out there right now, fencing off a patch of grass the size of a football pitch*, and threatening to block access to my parking space with their wanton land-lust.
It's nice to know I have the full support of local people. Ibsen wrote a play about someone like me.
I think I'll transfer to a ground floor flat and get down to B & Q for some fence panels.
* Slight exaggeration. But only slight. It may not comply to the full list of FIFA regulations, but you could certainly have a kickabout on that grass.
Friday, June 27, 2003
Monday, June 23, 2003
I've changed my mind. Jon's eviction could actually be a godsend. We're getting quality Tickle TV already. Breakfast television has never been so good, with Jon declaring that fame is transitory, before being asked if the tomato plants will cope without him, to which he replied "Are they not already dead?".
Meanwhile Cameron has been shipped off to Africa, which produced the considered Tickle analysis "He'll be sitting in a corner quietly rocking within an hour". Let's face it, we were all thinking it. I just hope Cam's taken out medical insurance. He's going to need care for the rest of his life after this, and I for one refuse to allow my taxes to pay for it. Not when I'm already paying my TV licence fee just to watch his descent into madness.
Meanwhile Cameron has been shipped off to Africa, which produced the considered Tickle analysis "He'll be sitting in a corner quietly rocking within an hour". Let's face it, we were all thinking it. I just hope Cam's taken out medical insurance. He's going to need care for the rest of his life after this, and I for one refuse to allow my taxes to pay for it. Not when I'm already paying my TV licence fee just to watch his descent into madness.
Sunday, June 22, 2003
Forty-eight hours since the eviction of Jon (or the ascension of the Lord, as Cameron is surely referring to it), and there's a definite gap in my life. A geek shaped gap, but a gap nonetheless. I've taken to building a solar powered water heater out of a hose and a binbag whilst wearing a stripey dressing gown, in a pitiful attempt to feel closer to my fallen idol. Fortunately I already have a hairy back, so that's saved some time.
On the bright side, I've optimistically added a Tickle Toaster to my Christmas list, and I'm sure I'll feel better once I find a monkey to plant my potatoes.
On the bright side, I've optimistically added a Tickle Toaster to my Christmas list, and I'm sure I'll feel better once I find a monkey to plant my potatoes.
Saturday, June 21, 2003
I've just received what is undoubtedly my finest search engine hit so far. Someone arrived at Act Two of my play 'Internet Cafe' as a result of Asking Jeeves "How long before chicken spoils?". I've just tried it, and sure enough, posing that question produces a ranking of number six for my website. I am now officially the 6th most popular location in the world for information on the keeping qualities of poultry. And the irony is, I don't even know how long before chicken spoils.
Friday, June 20, 2003
Oh for god's sake Britain, what's wrong with you??? You weren't meant to evict Jon!!!!!! I know Cameron's a nice guy, but he's also an apprentice axe murderer, and he could never say "naughty tomato plants" in a comically pitched voice, or point out those all-important times when Big Brother ends a sentence with a preposition. Only Jon can do that, and for those reasons alone, he HAD to stay. There's simply no justice. I feel ashamed to be British. My only hope is that with the increased food budget, this newfound access to red meat and sharp knives might just be enough to push Cameron over the edge, and lead to a recreation of The Shining before the week's out.
In the meantime, if Jon doesn't have his own primetime network TV show by the end of the month, I'm writing to my MP.
In the meantime, if Jon doesn't have his own primetime network TV show by the end of the month, I'm writing to my MP.
Wednesday, June 11, 2003
I've moved on from horses to... people who look like horses. I placed a bet on Jon to be nominated for eviction from the Big Brother house this week, which was duly proved to be the foregone conclusion I suspected when the nominations were announced yesterday. I love Jon. Obviously I wouldn't want to meet him, but the guy should have his own 24 hour cable channel. I'd happily pay per view. If he can actually go all the way and win this thing, it would single-handedly restore my faith in the British public. And seriously mess with the minds of his fellow housemates, which can only be a good thing. I've now taken my Jon winnings and placed the lot on the housemates failing today's bell-ringing task. Ordinarily I could take it as read that Federico would screw it up and make me rich, but I can't help feeling that Fed probably has a lot of experience manipulating a bell end, so the housemates must be in with a fighting chance.
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