17/10/2011

Ooh Look! A flashing light!

So, yeah, I have a low attention span, and a really tiny boredom threshold. I thought I'd point that out now, as despite that being the intended topic of this blog, it may also be the reason why I'll go off on a tangent and start talking about sausage rolls and how Greggs just don't seem to be able to do them properly.
I'm sure I could do great things if I could just be arsed. I'd have told you all about how to make a great quiche on my food blog http://fudgemunch.blogspot.com , or I'd have got stuck in listing the experiences of the televisual vacuums inhabiting the Big Brother house on http://bigfudgey.blogspot.com ... hell, I'd probably even have got to the bit of http://fudgebook.blogspot.com when the Artefact is revealed to be an alien device capable of making a star appear from nothingness. It would have been very awesome and I would have made up some techno-babble and felt all good n sexy. But I got distracted by a flashing light, got mixed up with the creativity vacuum that is Real Life, and got disheartened by my newly discovered inability to spell.

Maybe this lack of attention span makes me good at doing Twitter, writing short bursts of unrelated nonsense with the emphasis on getting the chuckle and RT response instead of promoting conversation and deep thinking. I guess this is why Stephen Hawking doesn't tweet much. Even when X-Factor is on. That, and typing stuff with your eyelid must be a right ballache. Although I guess his balls wouldn't ache. Despite all that sitting down.

Oh, and yeah, I know that saying I'm 'good at twitter' makes me look a bit arrogant and arsey and that, but I do think I do it pretty well. Ok, maybe I'm not Stephen Fry, but he had a head start with the being awesome, what with being on telly and that. I started from scratch, with but a few posts on a transformers forum to my name. Hmmm... maybe I need to get on telly... and not just looking smug, stood behind that bloke from The Fast Show. I suppose the BBC has moved all its operations to Salford, I could go and nag at them for a job. But what kind of job?
Is there a market for rambling blog writers on tv or radio? I guess I say 'fuck' too much for cbeebies, and I definitely see too much innuendo when watching In The Night Garden... that Upsy Daisy is a right slag though, teasing that poor Iggle Piggle, who clearly has some kind of brain injury, making him highly suggestable to the evil machinations of Derek Jacobi, as well as Upsy Daisy's perverted desires. That blanket is the only piece of his former life, before the crash, it was probably the jacket of his sister Mary, who he watched die as the helicopter blades penetrated the cockpit's plexiglass screen, sending her guts and stomach contents spilling out, with the morning's unchewed lasagne pouring out, along with lumps of garlic baguette and a still-fizzing alka-seltzer.

So, that's why I'm no good for cbeebies.

And after going off on that tangent I've gone and forgotten what I was on about... I had a lovely bacon and chicken panini for lunch. Although there was a bit too much cheese in it.
I do like a panini. It's like an ironed sandwich. Or a sandwich that a fat bloke has sat on. Or a sandwich from a high gravity environment. Like on Jupiter. But without the gas. Although we were sat next to a bunch of students. So there was gas.

See what I mean about going off on a tangent? I'm not doing it on purpose. It's your fault. If you paid me or encouraged me to take about one specific thing I bet I could do it really well. I reckon by just reading this post you owe me £3.20 just for the little smile you did when I was talking about Mary Piggle's guts and dinner.
Anyway, if you work for the BBC in Salford and you need someone to write nonsense over the course of a morning, about nothing in particular, but covering every topic imaginable, gimme a call. I'm sure you can easily find my phone number in the BBC archives. I entered a competition on Radio Leeds once and I won tickets to see 28 Weeks Later. You remember? Good.

Oh wait, I had a different phone number back then. I tell you what, email me or something. That's easily done. I'm only after a couple or three thousand a month, for that ill write anything you want. Even stuff I don't agree with. Forcing veganism on cats or sequins or whatever. I'll even watch Downton Abbey if you pay me enough, and ill tell everyone its rubbish because its on ITV and how your costume drama which is near enough identical is so much better, even though both are depressingly dull, but presented in such a manner that anyone who says they don't like it is clearly some kind of uncultured, rabid fucktard that deserves to die a slow death by mercury poisoning.
Anyway, that's all the writing I'm doing for today. Don't think i could have made my lack of a point more clearly.
So there.

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