Bill Oddie

Last night I had a dream that my girlfriend and I were with Billy Oddie, the British comedian and naturalist (not naturist, the distinction is worth remembering), being given an extensive guided tour of his home.

Bill was quiet and humorless, which was unusual. I believe he was showing us the house as he was trying to sell it. Half way through the tour I realised that I was completely naked and quickly grabbed one of Bill’s old socks to attempt to cover myself. Bill snatched the sock back and angrily, noticing my nudity for the first time, demanded to know why I was walking around without clothes.

My girlfriend answered for me “his clothes are in the back of the car, but he’s not allowed them”. Somehow the venerable British television personality seemed to accept this as an appropriate answer and showed us the rest of his home.

When he led us into the kitchen he revealed that he has a sideline in running a breakfast cafe out of it and, naturally, the patio doors opened and two dozen hungry families piled in. Men glared at me and women shook their heads and covered their children’s eyes.

Then I woke up. Very confused.
What the hell was that supposed to be?

Zombie Rap

Those of you with better attention spans and memories than myself will know that I often collaborate with my buddy Will McD. Here is his brand new comedy video.

Usually my emotionless, detached and clumsy acting necessitates that I am first choice for such roles as “man in background”, “guy reading book” and “tree no4”. However, this time, my gangly form was well suited to being a zombie. I may have found my true path in life!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy and “like” / “share” / “subscribe” / get involved in petty feud with several other viewers over the smallest details.

All An Anarchist Could Care

Such sweet soliloquies
Were wasted when
Jilted, jaded, jawless,
Wanton women wailed
Mindless melodies mostly
Lamenting long lost love

Someday siren songs
Will whisper where
Ravaging rocks rose relentlessly
Dangerously demonstrating deep
Water waits wickedly whilst
Your youth yields

Her hands held his heart
Tight, taut, timidly
Tracing thin ties
Across an aching artery
May more mercies

Have half her hope
And all an anarchist
Could care, could
Ever expect exists
In iridescent internecine

Mixed mechanically
By better beaus, bowing before
Mice, men, mortals,
Deaf deities, dead dreamers

Jupiter Ascending review

Ambitious, visually splendid yet camp and absurdly silly, I spent most of Jupiter Ascending’s lengthy and tedious action scenes wondering quite how Kunis, Tatum, Bean and Redmayne were convinced to sign up.
   I can assume that the Wachowski name was enough alone to secure funding for the film as I can’t believe anybody read the script.
I’m a sci fi fan, i’m a fan of The Matrix, even the ropier parts of the trilogy didn’t overly phase me.

The sad thing is that i was looking forward to Jupiter Ascending, but with it’s cheesy humour, clunky dialogue, strange pacing, violence, partial nudity and the way the film seems at pains to remind us of the gravity of the situation our protagonist finds herself in I cannot think who the movie is aimed at.
   In the end Jupiter Ascending reminds me uncomfortably of some odd concoction between Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, Fifth Element and Battlefield Earth.
To summarise; green screens, unexplained tech gadgets and cliches do not a movie make.