Yatta!

I’ve long suspected that I was placed on this planet to serve a higher purpose and it’s looking like I was right. I have superpowers and I can’t control them.

If I were to construct a list of the top 5 powers I’d like to have, it would probably look something like this:

• Invisibility
• The strength to flip over cars
• Extreme sexual prowess
• Communicating with animals and persuading them to do my bidding
• Being able to speak with the gravitas of Patrick Stewart

Of course, the power I appear to have been given is not on the above list. Oh no. My new found power appears to be the ability to shoot static electricity from my fingers. But only when I touch metallic surfaces. In Edmonton. You really have no idea how disappointing that is. It’s like finding out you’re Batman but the only gadget you have is a hand buzzer. (Tangent – anyone attempting to claim that due to his lack of super powers, Batman is a mere crime-fighting vigilante will be forcibly removed from the building).

As was pointed out to me yesterday, at least I don’t have the ability to accidentally kill everyone I love through radiation poisoning. But let me tell you this: shooting static from your fingers really hurts

Something to do with a disused lavatory and a sign saying “Beware of the Leopard”

“Glasgow unveils Commonwealth bid logo”. I think the opening line is probably the best: “He encapsulates modern Glasgow and extends a warm Scottish welcome to the world: He’s Mungo the Shit-Faced Octopus.”

And it’s still substantially better than the London Olympics one…

Monkey business

Actual headline: “Monkeys kill Dehli deputy mayor”.  Cage fights to the death against neds anyone?

“And that’s the story of how I got my bag back”

…

…

A courier finally turned up with it today. That’s pretty much it. This is probably my worst post ever.

Other names I considered and rejected for this post:

• Baby Got Bags
• The Sisterhood of Graham’s Traveling Pants

An open letter

Dear Air Canada,

You cunts.  Give me my bag back.  Seriously.

Sincerely,

Graham

Sod’s Law strikes again

Me = here.

Luggage = here.

Shitting marvelous.

I MEGALOL’d at this

Yes, today is going quite slowly.

Incarcerated in an icy prison

I’ve been bad and I’m being punished.  That’s the only conclusion I can think of for why I’m being sent to Edmonton until December for work.  This isn’t a slight on Edmonton itself; I’ve been a couple of times before and I actually quite like the place (unlike Amy, who hates the place with a passion so strong that it could only have its basis in a dirty family secret).  The problem is that there only appear to be 2 seasons in Edmonton: summer and snow.  The first time I went was November 2003.  I remember it well because it was so fricking cold I felt ice forming in my lungs when I tried to breathe.  That experience was classified as “not cool”.

And to top things off, I can’t find my hat

A nice reminder that I’m really lame

This just about caused my drink to spray out my nose. I’m a complete geek and there’s no hope for redemption.

Perfectly reasonable entertainment

So I downloaded “In Rainbows” by Radiohead this morning after preordering it last week for the princely sum of £3.45 (including credit card transaction fee).  I really didn’t know what to expect from it – the web site was pretty sketchy on details of what the download would actually involve (format, bitrate, etc.).  As it turns out, what you get is the album in MP3 format at a bitrate of 160 kbps.  This is lower quality than what I like to use in iTunes (192 kbps VBR) but it’s decent enough.

As for the album itself, I have to say that I’m pretty impressed with it.  I’m one of those people who argue the Radiohead-disappered-up-their-own-backsides-after-making-OK-Computer point of view so I required a bit of winning over.  I’m happy to say that there are actual discernible instruments on the tracks and Thom Yorke isn’t too whiny.  It’s certainly not back to the dizzy heights of The Bends but it’s well worth a listen.  Especially since you can legally get it for absolutely nothing at all if you’re genuinely that much of a cheapskate bastard.

Bootnote: I would give a much more in-depth review but alas I lack the command of the English language to know enough big scary words designed to make you, my paltry readership, feel stupid for not understanding what I’m trying to say.  I’ll leave that to the boys and girls over at Pitchfork.