Thursday, 10 June 2010

Please do not swear.

So I was watching Big Brother last night and something struck me. Big Brother is in it’s final season, having struggled over the years to maintain public interest here in Blighty. Having once been the king of the airwaves, a media juggernaught content to trample it’s way on to every front page, it is now a rather sad and depressing figure desperately clinging to it’s long gone fame and notoriety. Like a former pop star who is reduced to singing in front of twenty people in a karaoke bar long after their star has faded. Last night the new contestants were revealed and, if nothing else, it shows how low the producers have sunk to garner interest in their flagging horse.

Compare this years rabble to the very first series all the way back in 2000 where the most “flamboyant” contestants were a lady art teacher with short hair and a dude called Nick who tried to manipulate the voting by, er, talking about it to the other folks in the house. This was apparently enough to make him the nation’s most evil man and he was promptly booted out of the competition and vilified in newspapers around country.

Oh for the naïve and simple times of 10 years ago. This years bunch of wannabe no-hopers are a collection of freaks of geeks that would turn PT Barnum’s hair white. You have a woman who looks a bit, but not really, like Beyonce and who appears to have had a personality bypass when she picked up those devastating heels. You have a guy who dresses like Friar Tuck and claims to be a Christian Minister dedicated to inebriated worship of the Lord. You have another woman who’s even more precious than NotBeyonce, except she looks so much like Gozer the Gozerian from Ghostbusters it’s kinda distracting. And a fabulously upper class man who’s audition tape consisted of him showing off his bath (Gee Note: Although he got booed when entering the house for being too “posh”  apparently. I don’t know. Since when did being posh become a bad thing? When I was in Stratford the other week I ended up in a bar sitting opposite a group of students. And of course I eavesdropped like an international super spy, because students are generally intentionally and unintentionally hilarious in equal measure. Anyway the conversation went swimmingly until one greasy haired mope asked another in hushed tones “Do you think Matilda is posh?” referencing a mutual acquaintance of theirs. I swear to God. Do you think Matilda is posh. Hmmm. Well. Let me think about this. HER NAME’S MATILDA FOR F***‘S SAKE. Of course she’s bloody posh. I mean it’s not like you find many Matilda’s on council estates these days is it? Strange thing is that it was never mentioned if Matilda was actually a nice person or not).

But it doesn’t stop there. Oh no good citizen, for there be more abortions of society in them there hills. You have the dude who’s so amazingly proud of his monobrow, a woman who appears to be a cross between a glamour model and an oak tree, another named Sunshine who’s destined to have a nervous breakdown in the next five years, and a homeless lesbian dressed as Charlie Chaplin. In fact the most normal person in the entire thing seems to be the guy who lost his legs and an eye when a bomb blew him up in Northern Ireland. And really it smacks of attention seeking of the worst kind, like the producers of Big Brother are throwing whatever wackiness they can at the screen while screaming “LOOK AT US. LOOK AT US DAMMIT”. It’s like a child standing on a swing rocketing back and forth while wearing a great big jelly on it’s head.

Speaking of things that swing (Gee Note: Smooth) the Future Ex-Mrs. Davies returned home the other day with a copy of Prediction magazine. Now Prediction is an organ dedicated to such things as advising it’s readers on how to “Meet your power animal” and “Six months worth of Astrological predictions”. It is of course as barmy as a badger on acid.

It also offers advice on how to “Find your true life purpose with Dowsing”. Now dowsing is apparently well known for discovering water and oil and such, but can also help you decide whether to have pie or pizza or pizza pie for dinner tonight. Well that’s if you believe Prediction. “But how does it work?” I hear you cry (Gee Note: Well OK. I don’t really. I mean you’re not in the room as I type this so I’d have to have superhero level hearing or something. Like BraveStarr when he says “Ears of the Wolf” for example. Also, did you know that BraveStarr’s tagline was “We needed a hundred lawmen to tame New Texas. We got one. You know something? He was enough.”? How awesome is that? Seriously I hope whoever came up with that is a rip roaring success and not, like, selling their own urine to medical studies just to make ends meet. That would suck.) Well first you have to make your pendulum. According to Prediction…

A pendulum can be made from a paper-clip on a piece of cotton thread, a brass weight on a string, or a crystal (Gee Note: Crystal? Oooh la-di-da your majesty) on a metal chain. Some people use a spherical or pair shaped glass bead suspended on a shoelace or a length of braided thread.

It should noted that I have none of the above mentioned things. I do however have a cell phone charger.

Really, resourceful is my middle name. Well one of them. Gareth Ninjaskillz Rhys Resourceful Davies. So pendulum sorted, what’s next?

Hold your pendulum in your “other” hand (left, if you’re right handed) and say “I declare that only the force for good can respond to my requests when using this pendulum or any dowsing tool” (Gee Note: Hur hur hur. You said “tool”.) Ask your spirit guides or angels to be your link to the spirit world

Now long time readers of this blog will know I don’t have all that much luck with spirit guides. I mean I even tried once following Maggador’s advice to try and contact them, alas to no avail (Gee Note: You remember Maggador right? The dude I christened Ultimate Thor? Well as it happens he has a new series of videos here. Hmmm. I don’t know. I preferred Maggy when he was claiming to be an alien from a distant galaxy. At least he seemed happy. Then he went to Argentina and got himself a monkey and somehow, and I really can't quite work this one out, somehow that made him miserable. Since then he’s been talking about overthrowing the government and interviewing people as crazy as he is. It’s a shame really). So if you’re like me, best thing to do is mumble something along the lines of “OK dude’s, could you try and not be a dick when I’m messing around with this thing. Cheers”. Anyway spirit guides appeased let’s move on.

Dangle your (Gee Note: Stop giggling) pendulum in front of you. Silently or aloud, say the word “yes” and see what movement your pendulum makes. If it swings back and forth or moves from side to side, this is your movement for yes. Now repeat the exercise for the word “no”.

Sadly this doesn’t explain what to do if you say “yes” and then drop your phone char… er… pendulum on your foot. Anyway having established that something your dangly thing does means “no” and something your dangly thing does says “yes” the following step is…

Write down all things you love to do - even in your spare time. What books or magazines do you read, what’s your favourite hobby, what sparks your creativity, what skills do people compliment you on, what would you do if you knew you couldn’t fail?

Hmmm a list you say? Well in for a penny and all that.

Books/ Magazines: Umm. Well I’m currently reading REAL ULTIMATE POWER: The Official NINJA Book. And there’s always a copy of The National Enquirer floating around here. Yeah you’re right. I should probably get myself a library card of something.

Favourite Hobby:  There’s so many to choose from. But if I had to say one I would go for “sitting down”. Yes. Definitely. Mind I like sleeping as well. Oh. Now I don’t know. Does it have to be one?

What sparks my creativity?: Drinking generally. That and a fear of getting stuck in the revolving door at our local supermarket.

What skills to people compliment me on?: I have been told that I look swish in a pair of dungarees. That Gareth Davies, they say, there’s a guy who can really wear a pair of dungarees.

What would you do if you knew you couldn’t fail?:
Travel to Alderaan to help the brave rebels fight the evil Galactic Empire. That or try and follow my dreams as being South Wales’ first white hip hop megastar. “I’m here all dressed in orange. You’ll be like damn son, and I’ll be like… umm…”

With your list completed it’s time to get all dowserooney on that son of gun.

Once you have your list, hover your pendulum over each answer and ask, “Is this my life purpose?”. You can find a general answer first and then refine it. You may also get more than one “yes” answer, but write all your ‘yes’ answers on another piece of paper.

Aww damn. I’ve got to do more writing? This is already getting far too complex. I should just give up now and turn on the Xbox. No wait, we’re almost at the end.

Repeat the above exercise on the new list until you feel you have minimized the list as far as you can. Meditate on the answers that are left. You’ll know intuitively which answer is your true life purpose. It’s usually the answer that makes you feel emotional

Wait… what? I mean… what? So after all that, all that waving the sodding swingy fandoodle around the place, all we really had to do was write down some stuff on a piece of paper and then think about it for a bit? I mean, that’s kind of a rip.

To hell with this, I’m off to watch Big Brother. I can’t wait to see what NotBeyonce does next.

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