Some people spoil it for the rest of us

Today I saw another London classic in the DLR platform: a woman of around 60, wearing some sort of lilac tracksuit, a long ponytail right on top of her head, and large lilac glasses. No, she wasn't Vicky Pollard, but the resemblance was uncanny. She was pushing what I thought, to begin with, to be a very low granny trolley or a broken pram. On close inspection, it was one of those American pet strollers, covered in cat badges, with something wrapped in a blanket inside. Now, it could not possibly have been a baby, because the stroller was far too close to the ground, and it definitely was not empty, so I could only assume she had a cat inside it. Cat present or not, I instantly assumed she was a nutter. Now I hear some people say "you shouldn't assume it just by her appearance!" I tried not to, but I just couldn't help, and you know why? Because human beings are wired up to look at something and make up her their minds about it, just like Cousin Cave did. Our cave cousins would look into a situation and quickly assess it by its appearance whether there was danger, like for example, assessing an attacking tiger's teeth, size and healthy appearance. Cousin Cave would not ask the tiger "what is your biting power?", or consider its feelings. And as much as people try to think they have evolved, the reality is that evolution of humans from cave to city has not happened that long ago in evolution's timescale. But that is not the point. The point I am trying to make is that the cat nutter was strolling with a cat in a basket. Now, I have two flat bound cats, and I thought, actually, my poor cats could do with a stroll. And like the nutter, I wouldn't give a damn about what people thought, and I would dress up nice and proper to take the cats around. But then I considered, what about if a work colleague saw me? Not giving a damn does not mean jeopardising your future and, understanding the Cousin Cave syndrome, I think that I pretty sure would be considered unstable by this unexpectedly intruding colleague and gossip would ensue, rendering me unsuitable for promotion. Damn! I give a damn after all! Some people just spoil for the rest of us. Bastards. Had Coco Chanel or Michele Obama invented the cat strolling fashion, I would be in such a better world...

In Google we trust

Google never ceases to amaze me. First, they were two tekkies in a garage in Michigan who, instead of getting laid, got us Googling. Google is simple, clean and effective, because they don't accept money from businesses to appear on their search, they make money from other ad revenues. Then, they created Google Chrome, which, if you haven't downloaded it yet, you are seriously missing out. It gave my laptop a new lease of life, it is super fast and efficient (I love this word!), and it makes Internet Explorer feel like the M25 on 5PM Friday. Now Sergey Brin has decoded his DNA, because he can, and found out that he has 50% chance of developing Alzheimer's (or Parkinson's disease), and decided to find a cure for it. All of a sudden, it all makes sense. Never mind the amazing developments they have created in IT, never mind the most powerful and famous search engine in the world, their purpose has finally been revealed, they will find THE cure. I am excited about this revelation! I want to work for Google! Sergey, I am your disciple! Recruit me please!!!!

Read the article on: http://www.wired.co.uk/wired-magazine/archive/2010/08/features/sergey-brin's-search-for-parkinson's-cure?page=all

And for Googgleness sake, download Chrome on: http://www.google.com/chrome

Is hot the new black?

31 degrees and counting. The last time it was this hot in Europe, everyone melted and died. I am very close to it. The heat might also explain why people are so edgy and aggressive. I was calmly melting at home after a weekend away in the country when I heard a real kerfuffle outside and went to 'peek' from behind the curtains (as you do..). There, fully dressed in a sari, was a woman shouting to another man that his wife was a slag and he should be ashamed of her. Several men were containing the fight, trying not to touch the woman, thank god, and others were trying to make her go away, she would take two steps way, turn back again and go back shouting about slag wife out of control. We are not in Kansas any more, Toto, I though...This went on for at least 15 min. Eventually, it appears, the woman's husband turned up and the others shouted repeatedly to him "control your wife!". Now, is it just me or it seems that the poor woman was just outnumbered? No other woman came out to her rescue, and she was surrounded by uncomprehending males that didn't have a clue what she was on about and did not give her hug. Clearly, there had been some sort of injustice, maybe the slag wife slept with the shouty woman's husband? I don't know, all I know is how utterly alone she looked, and what mess her life must be. Despite feeling very sorry for her, I wanted all the scumbags to go home and have a cold shower. Who shouts in the middle of the street like that???? This is not Chelsea, but it is certainly not an episode of Jeremy Springer Street! Have some common decency, people, and stop the f*cking noise!

Paul the Psychic Octopus

I am reading with much amusement all the death threats to poor Paul, the Psychic Octopus. He is a Dorset born, 9 brained genius, 'Nostradamus of the sea', I love it! I might even avoid calamari rings for the time being out of respect. What people don't know is that he actually saved England from another Falklands war; hence, he is a war hero. I beg the MI5 to bring Paul back home and to put him in the witness protection programme UK. Being a disliker of all things Argentinean (mainly the people, really) I was a bit concerned about their initial performance at the World Cup, led by HoG (Hand of God) himself, so I watched them closely. I was convinced that, should Argentina win the World Cup, their national pride (as misguided as that is) would lead them to invade the Falklands again. So thankfully Paul predicted, or maybe even better, 'influenced' their loss. He saved us and now he needs protection. Did you see what the Argentineans are saying about Paul??? Hang, beaten, drawn and quartered with paprika!!! Psychos!! If Psychic Sally had been the target to death threats like these, we would likely pay for her protection, so I see no difference in protecting Paul, our hero. I also suggest that he be given an OBE. It is the minimum we can do.

Wireless - part 2

So I survived 8 hours and 25 minutes at the Wireless Festival, to my own surprise. Apart from some pretty useless bands/singers, which were there just to sell beer and chips, I quite enjoyed Jay-Z. He is pretty cool and he can actually sing! The production was excellent and he can work a crowd. I mean, you gotta be good if you are married to Beyonce, right? I could not imagine her shagging Chipmunk (Chip who?).

On the other hand, Slash was completely wasted on that hip hop crowd. What a show! I can think of no other band where the main act is the guitarist and not the vocalist (Jimmy Hendrix doesn't count, he was not a band!). Slash playing guitar on his back was [use of the Americanism necessary] Awesome! He is a Legend! Slash was my highlight and I would have gone then, had it not been for 'the others'. You gotta hate friends sometimes...

After Slash, I went for a slash and had to try 5 different loo locations. Queueing for a piss! Not only that, queueing for a piss with 150 flapping drunks dying for a piss! I swore I would never go to another festival. After 45 minutes of full bladder pain queuing you would think you would get a prize, but instead, you get a Portaloo. From poo to power as they called it themselves.

The worst part for me, however, was the throwing bottles in the air. How old were these twats, 11?! If I had seen one I would pin them to the ground and bash their heads with a bottle until it broke (you pick, head or bottle). But, as a small gal, I can only dream of such things... and dream of gigs where people over 5'8 should sit down, stupid giants...

Hyde Park Wireless

I am just about to go to Wireless to see Jay-Z and Slash, let's see what this will be like. From yesterday (I went to see the Great London Swim at the Excel, in Docklands) I can say that I F***ING hate Portaloos!!!!!! What is that all about??? 10cm space inside, how can a lady hover like that? No space to turn around, the loo is too high to hover, my bits ended up touching the sit (ewwww!), piss went flying everywhere, and to be honest, I might as well have pissed myself, cos that was the end result. Bad design really does my head in. It is made for men to piss standing up with their backs to the door. Thanks, guys, another design by men for men. Only men could put up with the stink of highly noxious chemicals and piss/poo. I was disgusted, and literally pissed. Combined with the single food stall for 10,000 people, no wonder I thought the organisation was rather selfish. I was not impressed.

I was told Wireless will have "luxury loos" at an extra price, off course! Well, I will have to check that, if a Portaloo is all we get for a £50 quid ticket, then paying EXTRA for a "luxury" loo will give you what? a hole in the ground? Because that would be the next step up from a Portaloo. Why do I ever leave the house?