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Tuesday, 1 March 2011

Miscellaneous Annoyances

Today was a strange day in the twisted world of Pony and Trap. Don't get me wrong, there were plenty of things to get annoyed about. As there always will be, while people still wear Ugg boots and the insane bastards behind the Go Compare commercials continue to have the Charlie Sheen-esque volumes of cocaine they must be taking funded by the people who run Go Compare for their increasingly appalling contributions to popular culture. Put the Go Compare guy in ancient Egypt! Now let's do some coke. Put the Go Compare guy in space! Now let's do some coke! God, I wish I still worked in advertising sometimes...

The trouble was, nothing that angried up my blood today was significant enough to warrant a full blown article, so instead, here is a list of miscellaneous annoyances from March 1st, 2011.

Lady Gaga has lupus

Lupus. Surely an invented disease created by the producers of House, just so he has something to rule out early on in the episode before he reveals that the five year old girl is really going through the menopause because her dad was on Viagra or some shit. I would really like to see the episode of House where he diagnoses Lady Gaga with lupus. "What? Lupus? But it's never actually lupus, that's always a red herring! What devilment is this? I was expecting it to be some kind of botulism caused by wearing raw meat as clothes! Or some new disease that just makes you a cunt. Cuntington's Disease.". Then House has whatever it is that gives him that limp, polio or diabeetus or whatever, cured by Dr. Cox out of Scrubs and they do a big musical number to close, in which Lady Gaga gives birth to Olly Murs, runner up in the 2009 season of the X Factor. Seriously, if there was ever a disease with more made up sounding symptoms than lupus, well, it was ME, but still, fuck off, you're just tired.

Worst/best dressed at the Oscars

Depending which paper you read, the same people were either worst, or best dressed at the Oscars. Cate Blanchett. I thought she looked horrible, but then you can't polish a turd. She has a face that is more like what you expect a foot to look like, and the body of a knotted, constipated piece of iPhone charger wire. Helena Bonham-Carter. She looked fucking mental, but then that is about as surprising as learning that people in the south eat more arugula than people in the north. Hailey Steinfeld. I have literally no idea who that is, but she appeared to be a little girl in a tutu, which is always sweet. All of these people were among the best dressed in some reviews, and the worst in others. Can we not just have some kind of armistice where we just say that everyone looked better than us plebs, and better than Katie Price who reportedly rocked up at Elton John's after party and tried to rape everybody out there? Or just let John Galliano decide? And probably gas those he deemed off trend... Or Jewish.

Ally Ross constantly slagging off 10 O'Clock Live

This is a bloke who writes the TV reviews in The Sun. Understandably, because it's The Sun and it's for mouth breathers who really believe someone wrote in to Dear Deirdre to ask what to do after having a hot lesbian encounter with their boyfriend's sister ("he's a tyre fitter, I work in a newsagents, and I met him when he came in to buy his copy of the Sun" - I'm not joking, it really did say that. Product placement even in the sub Letters to Penthouse crap they make up for Dear fucking Deirdre...), and that Mystic Meg's prediction that you will meet someone at the dog track (again, not kidding, it really did say that... Are there even any dog meets tonight in your area?) are true, mostly he talks about shit that is on ITV. Dancing on Ice (featuring "rap star" Vannila Ice, who in 2011 is as much a rap star as Simon le Bon is a style icon), Corrie, Loose Women... At least he takes the piss out of how awful it all is, even if it is in a "you should still watch it though, or you won't be working class any more" kind of way. What annoys me is how every time I see his column he slags off 10 O'Clock Live - most specifically Lauren Laverne. I mean, yeah, I know it's probably fucking intimidating to watch 10 O'Clock Live if you normally only watch "Got to Dance" - they masquerade as a comedy show but fuck me if they don't interview people and make jokes where you would have to know who the Prime Minister is to get them. I think it's one of the best things on TV at the moment. If you just happen to be of the "anything with Kerry Katona in" persuasion and don't get it, that's no reason to start on Lauren Laverne. Would it help if she was wearing a Juicy Couture tracksuit and swearing at some kids while divorcing someone she married last month? Yeah, probably. But to some people, good television is not just about watching trains get wrecked and Alex Reid getting a (second) lobotomy live while wearing spandex and doing a passe double with Anton du Beke.


The CEO of Tesco, the fourth largest retailer in the world, purveyor of literally everything from mobile phones, life insurance, terrible clothes and very bad sausages, is retiring, to be replaced by another Scouser. But this one isn't an Everton supporter like the old one. He supports Liverpool. Which make the comments from other members of the organisation about how their culture is to "win by any means necessary" a bit of a fucking joke. Liverpool can only win at anything if they invent a fucking time machine. They can't win the future, like what Barrack Obama says America can. Because they have a really, really shit team. You may be wondering why I am not going deeper into why I hate Tesco. Surely it's not just because I support Chelsea and hate eating sub standard crap designed for students and chavs? Well, it is, but they are a major client of mine in my day job and my identity isn't that well hidden, so, er, they're OK, really, I suppose (SHOP AT SAINSBURY'S!!!!).

The Voiceover Woman on the Cow & Gate Adverts

"Because healthy bay-bizz are happy bay-bizz! Giggle!" Am I the only person who wants to hunt down this woman and murder her? "Bay-bizz"? What the holy fuck is wrong with you? God, as if adverts to do with anything baby related weren't already creepy (all those naked baby bottoms being poked and stuff), some grown woman squeaking away like, god, I don't know what, a gerbil on Jaegermeister, well, it's just deeply unsettling...

Breast Milk Ice Cream

Thankfully I only heard about this because it had been banned on the grounds it isn't hygienic and may give you hepatitis or worse, but there was a restaurant in London who, for 14 of her majesty's pounds, would serve you ice cream made from human breast milk, with a rusk and, if you wanted it, a shot of Bonjela (the mouth ulcer gel) or Calpol (kiddie medicine). Now I know I said the other day that there were some pretentious things going on in the world of food, but even Heston "for this recipe you need dry ice and a crane" Blumenthal hasn't gone this far. Human fucking breast milk. The only thing this did that was any good was spark an interesting debate with me and my friends over whether you'd rather have breast milk ice cream or a sorbet made of piss. You can go down all sorts of routes with this conversation, but they all eventually end up in the territory of "spunk". It passes the time.

I would quite like a shot of Calpol though.

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