I Feel The Pain.

I just finished watching Hot Rod. I have no idea why it failed in America because it is amazing. I chuckle like Frank Bruno through it every time.

It got me thinking about how funny it is to see someone hurt themselves, it is a sadistic part of human nature that everyone accepts. And I like it as well. Imagine a childhood of watching your brother smack himself in the face with a gulf club, blood spurting everywhere, and not laughing. It doesn't bare thinking about.

The worst point is when someone hurts themselves, badly, and you don't realise. I did this recently. I think I was hated from then on. Unfortunately I was surrounded by people that didn't really know me. They all just stared at me, while a full on cackle burst out of my laughter filled face. I made my excuses and left.

How come the funny bone gets the name (yes I know about the humorous bone)? It's funny for the injured to hit their elbow but for the witnesses the hinge joint is a terrible comedian. It is like The Katherine Tate Show of the injury comedy circuit. Rubbish.

It isn't the only thing that makes you laugh. It is far more funny to see an old lady get hit in the face with a ball (not too hard and/or too old) than it is to see her bang her elbow gently against a goalpost. Although you would question why is she playing in goal at 90.

I am now off to watch the World Cup draw. It's very exciting. I actually hope we get Portugal. I think it would be a good game and I really have my doubts about our chances to win. England may as well play the tough games early on, to really see if we have a chance. And hopefully it will quickly stop our tabloids getting everyone's ridiculous optimism up for it to be dashed by Brazil or Spain.

I would post about Mr Potato Head on my TV which is freaking me out but i haven't got time. It will have to wait until tomorrow.

A Day Of Waste.

I sat at my computer for 6 hours yesterday. I started with such great intentions.

I was trying to write a sketch. It went downhill from there. The idea I came up with was an ingenious one. Or so I thought. The more I worked on it the more obvious it became that it just wasn't going to work.

The idea was simple- A fairytale love story between Natalie Portman and David Bowie. Based in Great Yarmouth. The person reading it was going to fall in love with Portman and become insanely jealous of Bowie, all in front of a class of children. Why the hell did I think it would work? My celebrity obsessions need to stop.

They won't.

I watched Juno the other day. I am now obsessed with Ellen Page again. I found this piece of information about her.

Page: "When I was a kid I just played with action figures and climbed trees"

Ellen Page likes climbing trees! Maybe she will, one day, type into google "5 step guide on how to find the best climbing tree" and she will come across my previous post. The only draw back would be if she then came across this post. I am sure she would find it flattering...

I came up with a Juno related joke the other day. I am going to send it into Adam and Joe, I am pretty sure they will not read it out. Here it is:-

How do you ask if someone is acquainted with your teenage pregnant trump?

do-you-know M'Guff? (Sounds like Juno MacGuff).

Good hey? Came up with it all by myself.

Fairly brief post today, maybe I might be able to do a good one tomorrow.

PS. My room is messy.

The Shifty Incident Of The Cowboy In The Tidy Bedroom.

I haven't written my blog for a while. I blame it on the fact I never had a desk. Good excuse huh? Well, annoyingly I seem to now have a desk that I am currently sitting at.

I no longer have a terrible, lazy infested, excuse.

I have a tidy room at the moment, which is very exciting. I feel like I am a character of a soap. It has always annoyed me that the kids in Neighbours never had messy rooms. I don't know how to keep things tidy so not sure how long it will last. I have my fingers crossed for at least half an hour.

I have never liked having a tidy room before because I just have a feeling there is a direct correlation between tidy people and evil dictators. Can you imagine Saddam (We are on first name terms) or Hitler having a messy room? Me neither.

I bet Gandhi's was a right tip! I hope I don't turn evil. I'll keep an eye out for strange behaviour.

The one frustrating thing with Blogspot is that it doesn't auto-correct lower case I's. The laborious task of holding 'shift' when typing a single letter is surprisingly frustrating. A psychologist on Big Brother (The programme, my older sibling doesn't have Freud constantly on his shoulders) said that if you write 'I' in lower case it means you lack confidence and self identity.

I think it is because I don't like pressing the 'shift' button.

Also, why is it called the shift button? You don't move anything with it. At best you shift it to upper case, but that can't be it? No, I have decided. I am going to re-name it to 'The make it a self-indulgent I' Button. Far more catchy. I bet Jeremy Clarkson never puts a lower case I.

A story to cheer everyone up - I found out today that my housemate had a hamster called Cowboy when she was younger. She put a cowboy hat on it for the last couple of months of it's life. Then she, quite dramatically, admitted "I think this is the reason he committed suicide".

I had no response. I don't think it needed one. The more I think about a hamster wearing a cowboy hat, the better the world seems.

R.I.P Cowboy, your legend lives on.