Saturday, 12 December 2009

Dreadful Joke! Learn something about fruits.

I used to do battle with this guy whilst balanced on a pile of Butternut Squashes. Anyways, one day I started battling him when I saw him standing on a pile of grapefruit. I really caught him off-gourd.

Yes. Off GOURD. *Sigh*

Victorian Farm Christmas

I for one, think the BBC have outdone themselves once again! Clearly, when I generously threw my money into their faces, they were shellshocked. Cheekily, Jonathon Ross scampered over and gathered the money off the ground like the young scallywag that he is, leaving the BBC with but a pittance to make excellent programming for the nation. But my, with this measly amount of money, they created "Victorian Farm", a show dedicated to showing the people of Britain the workings of, surprisingly, a 19th century farm! Now, I for one, was astonished when this was pulled from our screens, and replaced with something else, doubtless a "Panorama Special" on how McDonalds makes people fat, or something else that I would have clearly missed if I had not given them my licence fee, so joys abound when I spotted a Christmas edition of Victorian Farm! My heart leapt with unrestrained glee as I casually, in order to throw off any onlookers who may have surmised the fact that I was desperate to watch this, clicked the link.

As I clicked the link, I settled back, ready for an evening of jolly entertainment from the BBC and the archaic farming methods used by our friendly staff at Acton Scott. From that moment on, I was enthralled with the events! First off, everyone got reacquainted after their year apart, during which time we had seen nothing of Victorian Farm, and indeed, I had nearly forgotten about it. Fortunately though, it still resided in my deepest, darkest memories, and I quickly caught up with the events, after all, it is easy to see how something such as the kneading of bread could quickly escape any casual viewer's grasp, and leave them baffled. It was good to see, therefore, that the BBC spent 5 minutes on the topic, lest any stragglers not yet be fully informed.

But the over-arching storyline was that of the hay. The hay, as was made clear, depends on sunlight, and the absence of rain. At times, it seemed like the hay dominated the story a bit too heavily, and took time from other key moments, such as "Checking the machinery" or "Buying a new ram", and eventually I found my initial tension about the hay dissipating more on each mention. Luckily though, the hay was rained on heavily, thus bringing back my tension, with a new feeling of guilt. "Oh God!" I thought "If only I had worried about the hay!". Fortuitously for me, and my guilty conscience, the hay collection went off without a hitch, and at the end of the episode, we see the group merrily celebrating around the hay.

For me, though, the star of the show was Mr Acton himself, landlord and all-around great guy. Never have I seen someone with such an excellently upper-class accent sniff hay to verify its capability to sustain life in his stock. When he donned his monocle to verify the amount of rainfall for his meticulous records, I nearly swooned.

All in all, Victorian Farm Christmas is an excellent way to prepare to free yourself from the misery of life and jump wildly out of the nearest window, screaming "Oh God, I didn't need to know the origins of the expression 'Grind to halt'!", before screaming the blood-curdling yelp of a man who has heard the expression "Make hay while the sun shines" too much for one mere hour.

You heard me, all this joy was condensed into just ONE hour. A whole HOUR of your life could be dedicated to "Victorian Farm Christmas". I highly recommend this if your alternative is to club yourself to death with a hammer, or run, blindfolded, in a hall of mirrors, with surprise boxing matches against David Hayes every six or seven feet.

Should you, against all reasonable advice, foolishly decide to watch this, I implore you, first of all not to, please God, DON'T, but if you must, say, you're writing a thesis on Victorian Farming and think this would be a good break, then try to remember the BBC does provide other, better, MUCH better shows to watch, so try to forgive them this one blatant mishap on their part, and think about the good times.

Friday, 11 December 2009

Starting point!

This is the starting point! Like that of an as yet un-used race idea, where having started with hundreds of racers at the start, they are eventually stripped down to a few elite, some racers collapsing, withered due to their exhaustion. Others failing to outrun the tactically placed hunting mammals, and some falling foul of the terrifying "Landmine" section. Obviously, this race is merely a simile, but the runners are "My ideas" and the finishing line is undetermined, but all races must have a start. The ideas could be really bad, and just die due to exhaustion, or randomly not work, like those poor landmine-sufferers. Still, theoretically, if I were to pontificate on one idea everyday, eventually we would surely whittle a massive race, bigger even than the London Marathon (For which my mind reserves a special hatred) into the ELITE, like the final of the mens 100 metres at the Olympics.