Hello there. Do you ever ever have those days when you just can’t think what you’re going to write in your blog? Hang on, I should probably qualify that. If you do, in fact, have a blog, do you ever have one of those days that you can’t think what you’re going to write in your blog? I do. And I do. Often. Well I’ve found something that can help if you ever get stuck in that situation. ( That’s the situation of having a blog and having a day when you just can’t think what you’re going to write in your blog ). Here’s the answer. Just subscribe to PSFK. There’s always something interesting / informative / mental in there that will get your copywriter‘s mind racing and your keyboard clattering.
Take one of today’s headlines for example.
Amateurs Building Homemade Nuclear Fusion Reactors.
Now there’s something that’ll make you sit up and take notice. Apparently there is now an enthusiastic online community of like-minded amateurs committed to building their own little nuclear fusion reactors in their front rooms, attics and sheds. What could possibly go wrong? Apparently there are a few killjoys out there who question the benefits of building something that up to now can’t generate as much power as it takes to actually function. These same people are seemingly also getting niggly about ‘nuclear reactions taking place near their homes’. Sheesh. Talk about buzzkills.
However, this did also get me thinking, what else are our neighbours beavering away at while we’re out in the garden, watching telly or doing a bit of shopping? There could be all manner of stuff going on that we don’t know about. That eerie light, late at night, from the bedroom window opposite may not be young Kenneth surfing the internet for dubious german pornography. Maybe he’s knocking up a time machine from old biscuit tins, that rowing machine you saw getting dropped off from Argos and some bits and pieces from his Thomas Salter Chemistry Set ( Age 7+).
Perhaps that irritating revving and smell of burning two-stroke oil on a Sunday afternoon isn’t someone firing up the lawnmower or rennovating a 1972 Honda ‘thrifty’ moped. Maybe it’s the first stages in the building of a huge amphibian landcraft / battlecruiser / killer robot being assembled for the floods of the coming apocalypse. That truck dropping off bricks and uPvc frames down the road may not be for the conservatory / summerhouse you’ve always promised yourself. It could be that the Thompsons are now housing their home-made nuclear reactor in a brand new superlab / war room from which they’ll launch the deathrockets that Hilary has been crocheting for the last 4 months.
So just think on. Next time you’re in B&Q scouring the aisles for that carpet shampoo you saw on telly that was definitely 15% off on Tuesdays or was that in Homebase… or DoItAll… or Aldi? Take a look at what the person at the next checkout is stocking up on. Are those solar powered garden lamps really going to be brightening up the decking? Or are you going to awake one morning to find a fully functioning landing strip in next doors garden, awaiting the landing of the Mothership?
I don’t know about you but I’m off to my bunker.
Hello there. Sorry it’s been a while since I’ve done anything at all on thatandywhiteblog but I’ve been a bit busy of late. What with work, my daughter’s birthday and the overwhelming urge to sit in the garden with a cold beer as soon as the sun makes it’s presence felt, it’s been all go. However, all that sitting in the garden and the thought of Harriet getting older led me to muse on one of the great inescapables of life, death. After all, ( quite literally ), it awaits us all doesn’t it? So I thought I’d better get myself prepared.
As usual if you’re looking for a great idea, about anything, ever, the place to look is PSFK. And once again they’ve come up with the goods in the shape of this:-
It’s a nifty little addition to any tombstone, onto which you can add all kinds of information and images to share with visitors to your final resting place from beyond the grave. You can read all about it here.
I’m definitely getting one. I want it programmed so, as anyone approaches the headstone, it screams “I’M BEHIND YOU!” . At about a squillion decibels.
Hello there. Now I think I’ve mentioned before my deep hatred of crap poetry in advertising. In fact, I know I have. I mentioned it fairly firmly in a post called ” poet, lorry, hate.” a while back. However, it seems that regardless of everything I’ve said, some copywriters are still intent on churning it out. This latest abomination from McDonalds is a case in point. Directly after is a response from the respected poet E.J.Thribb ( 17½ ). I couldn’t have put it better myself.
And those who watched their big TVs
and swore through tightly gritted teeth
and tore their hair in deep despair
and threw themselves behind a chair
Were just pissed off
And watching on those same TVs
they cried out “Shove your Maccy Ds
your Flurrys and your poetry
where no sun shines and piss off please!”
We’re just pissed off.
Good God. I’ve just watched the ad again and am now forced to add another point. In the bit where our poet says “Financial clerk” , he pronounces it “clurk” to rhyme with “work”.
Well I’m terribly sorry but we pronounce that word “clark”. Why? Because we’re not bloody Americans, that’s why.
Hello there. Due to my incredibly efficient working methods I’ve had a little time on my hands today. So I’ve made the most of that time by looking at some of the really clever things that people are sticking on the web to advertise and sell us stuff. About an hour ago I came across this and I’ve been on it ever since. Consequently, I’ve not really done a tremendous amount of research. I have, however got some bloody great shots worked out.
Have go. It’s ace.
Hello there. Today I’ve become very disturbed by something rather personal. It’s been brought to my attention that for some time now I may have been wallowing, night after night, in my own filth. And it’s not just me you know. Oh no. It could be you too. You see I’ve just seen the latest Vanish detergent TV ad and it really scared me. It’s not so much the young mother putting the sheet over her head and doing the classic, “Woooooooo, I’m a ghost“, thing at her child, ( although you have to admit, that is pretty scary ). It’s the fact that our seemingly clean bedsheets are quite literally seething with huge colonies of bacteria that we just can’t see. Plain old washing powder won’t get rid of it. To be honest, I kind of got the impression from the ad that burning your bed linen in a fiery furnace wouldn’t even do the trick. What you need is Vanish Extra Hygiene. Not just hygiene mind, but Extra hygiene. Obviously, I wanted to get the full details so watched like a hawk and here’s where it gets even scarier. It turns out that even Vanish Extra Hygiene is only capable of destroying 99.9% of that filthy filth, ( and it’s really filthy. It’s brown on the ad, not pink so that’s like, really, really filthy isn’t it? ). Now, what’s truly disturbing is that if that Vanish stuff kills 99.9% of bacteria, then that remaining 00.1% must be really hard bastard bacteria musn’t it? I mean proper, proper Clint Eastwood, John Wayne, Daniel Day Lewis, ( in “Gangs of New York”, not “The unbearable lightness of being” ), hard. So, really you sort of question the whole value of killing the other 99.9% don’t you? What’s the point? Why bother? That 00.1% is just going to pick its hard bastard self up, multiply a millionfold, grow weird little spiny bacterial talons and strangle you to death in your sleep isn’t it? The whole thing’s left me completely unsettled. I probably won’t get a wink tonight.
Mind you, judging by what’s going on in my sheets, I don’t think I fancy going to bed anyway.
Hello there. Look, I’m really, really sorry about this but I haven’t really got a post to go with that header. What happened, right, was this. I was going to write a piece about the fact that I’d really wanted to go to the Cannes Film Festival this year but no amount of begging, borrowing or blagging could get me tickets to anything at all that was going on over there. So I didn’t get to go and consequently didn’t go to a single party or “do”. Then I realised that it would make for a very dull post indeed. However, I really, really liked the headline, ” No Cannes do.”, and didn’t want to waste it.
So there you have it. No post, just a smartarse header. I promise I’ll do a proper post soon, till then, No Cannes do.
Geddit? Eh? Eh? Oh suit yourselves.