Saturday, 23 July 2011

I Heart Algerian Soccer Moms

Zoning out and being screamed at by their kids. That’s Paris in a nutshell.  I went there for my birthday recently, which happens to be Bastille Day, France’s national day. Hopefully future historians will have the ability to distinguish between motion picture event and real life situation, because Bastille Day ain’t no Amelie. In reality it’s a lot more Children of Men. It’s fathers on the metro whispering prayers to their crushed child, grim faced police with guns forming impassable human walls and mothers screaming so deeply from their lungs that it sent a chill down my spine. Never go to France on La FĂȘte Nationale, it’s apocalyptic. They even had 30 year old men in trousers and knitted vests watching 50 Cent videos on the free internet at the Georges Pompidou Centre. Now that's grim.





The hottest act in Paris right now. Before YouTubing, please ensure you have at least 3 buckets ready to spew in.









If only I could have beamed myself up to the Snog outlet in Covent Garden, which I’m not sure if anyone’s noticed lately, is where the spirit of G.A.Y has been transferred since the destruction of the Astoria.


There it lives on until the Astoria can be rebuilt and its ‘Katra’ can be restored. Seriously though, it's full on. They're cranking Euro Trance and Electro Dance like it's going out of fashion. I think it must be something to do with the 16 year old party animals they're employing as management, cause I've been to the Soho branch and it's like the chill out room for the Covent Garden one. I’m literally gonna go there as often as I can, nowhere else is documenting gay rave culture in the 90’s quite like it.



Senior management meeting at Snog Covent Garden.






I’d love it if they had one of those Blue Plaques for notable past residents on the front of that place you know, that’s an amazing hypothetical photo opportunity waiting to happen. You could read all about how John Knox hatched plans for the Protestant Reformation there in 1532 whilst twinks dish out frozen yoghurt to thumping Jungle Trance.


Fierce.


It’d be excellent if people wrote any old shit on the outside of their house for the entertainment of the public, like ridiculous YouTube comments for example. Which it would seem, happen to be a window to the human psyche that has never before been available to science. Some examples:

 “If God created the heaven and hell then heaven can you can find somewhere on earth can the afterlife but hell you find in my soul”

“why do i watch these, i know ill always cry because, i may be a 13 year old boy, i still cry every time i see one of these vids, i hate how i always end up watching these, its ruin's my day”

Next time I try to get some group therapy sessions out of the NHS I’m gonna take along a print out of some 13 year old Armenian boy's YouTube account.

They might offer it to me that time.

Monday, 11 July 2011

Come into the light Carol Anne

My TV turned itself on the other day when I moved it slightly to the right. Which having been psychologically scarred by the Poltergeist films as a child, made me a little 'curious' and perhaps even a little 'wary' of the darn thing. Just as wary when I was a child of killer clowns laying in wait underneath my bed. Kids really shouldn't have large unoccupied spaces underneath their beds, it's not good for their minds.










Totally normal sleeping arrangement.







It's been a while since I've been properly petrified by a clown though, nowadays I'm far more likely to be scarred by an episode of Gilmore Girls. Imagine one of those two Hellmeisters dragging you underneath the bed and dropping high speed irony-bombs left right and centre; death by Resentment of Humanity would quickly ensue.

Not that I resent humanity, but watching Gilmore Girls makes you understand why some people do. Take the town they live in for example, the cheesily named Stars Hollow. Demographics: 99.9 percent white and loving themselves sick. That'd be a great tag on the welcome sign when you come in to town.



                                                                  Gross.

I think Gilmore Girls actually gives wholesome a bad name. It's so wholesome it gets you thinking the whole time you're watching "What's the porn remake of this like?". Like those porn parodies they do of main stream Hollywood movies. From Edward Penishands to Whore of the Rings, or my personal favourite, Analyze These (you need to see the cover for the whole effect). That's a franchise that'll never run out of ideas.



Carrying on from my last post that fetaured a look-a-like, I was thoroughly inspired recently whilst watching (for reasons to remain anonymous) the Sesame Street Movie: Follow That Bird. If you've seen it then you might remember this character, Mrs Finch. AKA Big Bird's caseworker.


Mrs Finch


who looks and acts just like (work with me here).......

Mary Portas

The physical and emotional similarities will Blow...Your...Fucking......Mind.