stephen hendry's fridge

(Thu 5th Jun 2008, 9:47, More)

Student traffic cones

(Fri 15th Feb 2008, 13:54, More)

Good afternoon.

(Mon 22nd Oct 2007, 15:38, More)

Spiderman: defeated.

(Mon 21st May 2007, 10:14, More)

Henry VIII's "Wife-O-Matic"

(Wed 4th Apr 2007, 15:35, More)

» My computer gave away my secrets

Thanks to auto-complete...
...my Dad now knows that I like girls to wee on me.
(Fri 10th Feb 2006, 11:22, More)

» Best Films Ever

If it bleeds, we can kill it.
I'm thankful to this particular QOTW for allowing me to express my unashamedly enthusiastic love for a film that I've been completely obsessed with since I saw it 15 years ago. Here's 8 reasons why I love Predator.

1) The alien.

Pretty obvious this but you just look at it! It's got dreadlocks for Christ's sake. Like some sort of future ragga overlord.

It also has stealth camoflague, huge retractable blades, in built first aid kid, infrared vision, a shoulder mounted plasma cannon and a mini nuclear self destruct system as standard. It even has an audio sampler!!! Most importantly though it has mandibles. Proper realistic looking, non-CGI mandibles that spread out when he does his shit-scary war-cry type thing. It is a beast, the sortof being you have proper nightmares about.

2) Arnie.

Looking at the Predator's impressive stats they could easily have built a decent film around the alien itself with the other actors being pretty much superflous. But instead we have Arnold Schwarzenegger. The very fact that a proper mentalist like Arnie only barely survives and ends up looking like dog-chewed rag doll just goes to show how double-hard the Predator is. Pure genius.

3) Old painless.

Best gun ever. There's a scene in the film which is basically this gun leveling an entire section of forest. This is both awesome and an environmentalist's nightmare.

4) The gore.

I was 6 when I first watched the telly-friendly cut version of Predator. I recorded it off the television and watched it so much that the tape wore out. For my 7th birthday my Mum bought me Predator 1 and 2 on video not realising they were uncut. When I first saw the skinned soldiers I pretty much shat myself and by the time Dillons arm had been blown off I was in pre-teen gore heaven. Obviously this looks abit tame these days but back then it was the coolest, sickest thing ever and way better than any proper horror films.

5) The one liners.

Every line in this whole film makes me grin. It is perfect. No wasted dialog, no pointless drama. Every word is uttered at first to make the commandos seem like the most incredible bunch of double-hard bastards and then to make the Predator seem twice as hard as them. Almost every sentence in the script could be used as a tagline and that's the way action cinema should work.

6) The gunfight.

Near the start of the film the commandos pretty much start (and finish) what could only be described as a small war. Buildings blow up, a helicopter blows up, men run around on fire, Arnie impales some guy against a wall, bad guys go flying over cliffs. It's basically the best thing ever.

7) The wide angle shot firework display.

If I was told I could only ever watch another minute of film before I had to die, this would be it. The most beautiful, awe-inspiring piece of cinema ever made. Mid way through Predator and Arnie's showdown, the Predator goes apeshit and stands on a log-bridge firing his plasma cannon all over the place inadvertently putting on the best firework display on earth. Everytime I watch this my jaw hits the floor even after all these years.

8) Everything else... the arm wrestle, the pussy jokes, the scorpion, Mac's psychological breakdown, Arnie's war-cry, the music... just everything.

So that's my well balanced critique of Predator. It's a shame that they ruined the franchise by combining it with the Alien in the modern shit-fests but the original film will always be untouchable as the ultimate action/scifi/horror film of all time ever.
(Thu 17th Jul 2008, 16:52, More)

» My first experience of porn

Thanks to some careless video labelling...
on my single-parent Dad's behalf, I was under the impression for a good 2 or 3 years that it was quite the norm for a woman to have sex with 3 men at the same time whilst having burning wax dripped onto her nipples.

I have in the 9 years since learned that it's not.
(Thu 25th Jan 2007, 16:18, More)

» School fights

Being the coward I am...
...I was of course "friends" with the school bully, mainly because it meant less chance of getting beaten up yourself and also because it's always useful to have a psychotic 14 year old skinhead on your side. One memorable scuff resulted in some poor kid having his front tooth chipped off, before running in tears to the school nurse. The victim was far to scared to grass up his attackers... and so despite an impromptu assembly the missing tooth was never found.

That is, of course, because my skinheaded chum had spent the rest of the day going around with half a front tooth embedded in his knuckle - knowing full well that seeking medical attention would land him in a certain creek.

And they say they were the best days of your life...
(Fri 10th Mar 2006, 15:17, More)

» Rubbish Towns

Wellingborough
A place so utterly devoid of character and unremarkable that it paradoxically stands out as being one of the most pointless places in England. Populated predominantly by kebab shops and Polish food markets, what is left of the town's indigenous tribe clutter the greasy, spit ridden pavements like small swarms of angry and mentally hindered wasps. Children haunt you down the street gobbing abuse whilst hassling for change and cigarettes. The tracksuit still rules okay on the streets of Wellingborough... except on Friday nights when a couple of hundred clones leer and piss all over the faux-cobbled centre, roaring "Build Me Up Buttercup" and puking their way out of the one nightclub. All wearing the same 'edgey' pink shirt they bought from Burtons; the town's only non-sports clothes shop.

What really makes Wellingborough stand out is the sheer amount of literally insane people wandering the pavement. A woman resembling an overweight Norse troll sporting inexplicably shiny and enormous trainers walks endlessly round the block like a mad animal trapped in a cage. Tragically, if only she'd not continuously chosen to turn right at the end of the street she would have achieved something with her life by walking further than anyone in human history. There's also a elderly man who rambles the streets topless. He clangs about with him a huge metal pole, waving it at people as he mutters enthusiastically about serial killers and east end thugs. He once passed me whilst crossing the road and opening his nasty white beard he piped up, licking the words as they came out; "Don't get run over now."

And then there's Karaoke Karen... a pale skinned woman with hair like a bright-ginger version of Jack Nance in Eraserhead who gained local notoriety in the mid 90s with persistent episodes of ghetto-blaster fueled mayhem involving a breathless and unnerving dance in the middle of the town's busiest streets. She disappeared for a number of years but was recently spotted clutching a lamp-post in a desolate car park, staring vacantly out of her sad and fattened face as if gazing through a shallow veil of happy memories and into madness itself. Truly the human embodiment of Wellingborough.
(Fri 30th Oct 2009, 13:31, More)