The Hits That Missed...

As the year is drawing to a close, I thought it appropriate to look back at the songs which have been terrorising our charts and due to unimaginative radio stations everywhere, have been shoved down our throats and into our guts creating mass musical constipation. I don't even think my bowel related metaphor does this year's music justice.

Starships - Nicki Minaj
The only thing stranger than Nicki Minaj's body proportions and schizophrenic smile is her understanding of the English language. Not only has she come up with her own British and 'gangsta' hybrid of an accent, but in the distance, if you block out the sound of the soul destroying dance break, you can hear the sound of every literary figure's corpses doing cartwheels in their graves. Are starships meant to fly? I just don't know Nicki, and you know what annoys me? After three minutes of water boarding my ears to your song, I am in no way closer to finding out the answer. If anything I am more curious as to 'they say, what they gonna say?' WHAT THEY GON SAY, NICKI? WHAT?

Anything Adele. Or as she says, Adeh-w.
I am so bored with people drooling all over Adele's musical chick flicks. I admit, Skyfall was good, because for once, she kept her angsty oestrogen at a safe distance from the lyrics. Everything else, however, is just one dementia patient away from a Nicholas Sparks novel. She just has to shut up and sort her man problems out. Here's a thought, Adele: maybe you're the problem. Sing about that.

What Makes You Beautiful - One Direction
There are several reasons why this song is the musical reincarnation of the devil. It is essentially recycling the 'Summer Loving' tune from Grease. And even in that case, the only redeeming quality is the theme of teen rebellion and Danny Zuko in skinny jeans. But out pops these four gangly teens in a rainbow assortment of Topman chinos singing about anything but teen rebellion. They're also very frugal with their lyric count (unlike Nicki), evidenced by the fact they use three syllables to say the word 'eyes'; “I look into your ey-ey-eyes". If they were Mexican/ Speedy Gonzales, sure, that would make sense. Then a good year of our lives is shaved off while we wait for the end of the 'Na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na [x2]'. What poetry.

I have it on good authority to believe that we are devolving and soon we will be swinging with the simians singing 'Call Me Maybe'- or if you don't believe in evolution, let's just say that 2012 is to music what Scientology is to religion.

What Mexican Soaps Have Taught Me...

During my long period of summer laziness, I acquired a somewhat unhealthy addiction. I struggled through the withdrawal phase as I weened myself off of stair pushing, child abandoning, split personality drama.

Yes, I watched Mexican soaps. I could have saved myself a considerable amount of time (more than I would like to admit) by just investing my time in one. Because they are all the same. Same plot; apart from a few embellishments such as- well, names really. Same actors too. As valuable as Thalia's acting skills are in our world, I've seen a larger variety of emotions on loo roll. Or even Kristen Stewart. I realise the second one was harsh. To loo roll.

One way in which crap Mexican TV has benefitted me is that I can now say;
- That is not your child.
- I am your real mother.
- What? You want to marry a poor girl? (Poor in terms of fortune, not empathy)
- I gave my baby away to a flower seller in a fit of postpartum depression...

ALL in Spanish.
Plus I have also come to the realisation that Mexicans cry all the time. There were times when I couldn't tell if the actors were happy, sad or going insane. It doesn't help that there are a million peaks and troughs in plot development- so they're together, then they realise they're siblings, then they find out they're not blood relations, they have a child, hospital results are mixed up, woman gets a terminal illness, they break up, man think child is another man's, 10 years pass and child looks like father, real hospital results revealed, happy family, BAM the woman gets hit by a car, becomes a cripple, falls down the stairs and can walk again. Throughout all this drama, I don't think that there was one scene where someone was not crying. It was hard to make heads or tails out of it with the ridiculous camera work. I have never seen so many dramatic, alternating facial zooms in one scene. Not only is this feature incredibly unnecessary, but I'm pretty sure it is a hazard for epileptic people.

So if you feel like you want to watch some uplifting/good television, don't be expecting anything but the crudest form of entertainment from Mexican soaps.

The Hipster Diaries...

After years of close observation, I believe that I have worked out the intricacies within the mind of a hipster.

          Banana                     Masterpiece

Here is my most recent observation. To those who are thinking 'these two pictures are exactly the same apart from a change in contrast in the second one', you are grossly uncultured/just go back to your hole that isn't in Shoreditch. The second one is obviously a fine specimen of my phone's lomography effect which just happens to be a free app as money is so overrated. One button and BAM give your photos a nostalgic dirty feel which is so reminiscent of individualistic anti-modernism. Yeah, that is an actual thing your hayters (I like to alter my spelling by adding unnecessary letters to words because I'm a convention defying bad-ass).

  Pre-Pubescent Ear Vomit                               Masterpiece
                                        

There has been a dramatic growth in vinyl sales this year. This means one thing- the hipsters have realised that it is kitsch and are therefore cashing in. To those out there who are not well acquainted with the world of hipsters, this is not just two versions of one album. Oh no, a vinyl carries with it a certain prestige, almost enough to compensate for the fact that you don't own a vinyl player. There's nothing better than imagining the faint crackle of imagined music you pretentious prat.

The Presidential disgRace...

Dear America,

I feel like I should just sit here and watch you all suffer after you brewed our tea in your lake (although I do find that it says a lot when we British solve our problems by depositing large amounts of caffeine in our bodies, not in lakes because we're a rational nation), but I have decided to bury the hatchet.

I am starting to believe that you would vote for a packet of crisps if it was wrapped in the promise of irrelevant bible quotes, homophobia, tax reduction and of course, saturated fat. For those of you who are in possession of a brain, I recommend that you attain a love for maple syrup and hockey fast so that you have something to ease the pain acquired from the loss of faith in humanity when you are forced to emigrate to Canada due to the repugnant stench of a growing Santorum fan base. I don't mean to be harsh, and I know you're a family man Rick, but you are truly a moron. Give my best to the wife and seven kids who you mention at the start of every campaign in order to squeeze votes out of those who care.

Please, refrain from being the idiots of the international community, again. It's bad enough that you allow the existence of capital punishment, Fox News... and the Kardashians. Obama is the only sane candidate out there. And he can sing - I'm not saying that George Michael could run our country, (although I wouldn't mind the inclusion of pelvic thrusts into our legislation) but it definitely makes him a cool president Rick Santorum is a fundaMENTAList.

Yours sincerely,

The UK

My Not So Funny Valentine...

Bitterness is a strong word. I would call it 'dry humour blanketed in painful not-so-ironic' irony.

Don't get me wrong, I am very happy for all those out there who celebrate their love/emotional drivel (only joking, but not really) together on a daily basis. However, I think I speak on behalf of all those 'Single Ladies' (shut up, Beyonce, the only reason you're celebrating being a 'Single Lady' is because you are a millionaire, you're happily married and you have a body like a a god) when I say Valentine's day is an excuse to listen to Adele whilst lying face down and crying at your several cats, only to realise by their angry shivers that your love is not reciprocated. Even inanimate objects awkwardly avoid eye contact.

Valentine's day creates a massive chasm in the self-esteem of many. It is nothing but a cosmic bitch-slap of a day, forcing many people to abuse the ability to eat and leaving many of us with stomachs the size of the world of loneliness in our hearts. My advice to all you singletons out there? Watch the Notebook, whilst listening to Joni Mitchell and reading Sylvia Plath. That is a killer combination.

The Hipster Pub...

Hipster: A term defined as 'a subculture of men and women with d-bag tendencies'.

Okay, you've got me. That is not the official Oxford dictionary definition, but I feel that this term has been defined in a rather formulaic fashion. I define hipster from experience. I realise I have really attacked the 'let's wear chinos for irony' culture countless times, but it is an area of society about which I feel particularly strongly.

Today, I walked into a pub, filled with students on their Macbooks/laptops in all different shades of commercial. 'Why are you here?' I thought to myself, slowly accepting the fact that it was not only Starbucks which harboured this particular type of pretentious git. I don't know if it was the overwhelming number of empty frames or squint-worthy lack of lighting (which made me look like a right tool when taking my phone flash light out in order to inspect the menu, score 1-0 to the hipsters) which automatically set me in a bad mood, but there was very little which awaited me in that pub which would relieve my angst.

Admittedly, I was wearing my Bob Dylan t-shirt and so fit in wonderfully with the assortment of band t-shirts and graphic tees, namely Guns 'n' Roses and abstract black and white images of a man's face. However, I must say that next to pink, blue, white, brown, anyandall coloured brogues, my converse looked pretty shabby and mainstream.

I thought I would be safe in the toilet. But on the door of the cubicles were little One Tree Hill-esque sayings. You know, the vague ones that you hear at the end of an episode which always end with a patronising slowed pace and downward tone;
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IHHkl7hSxPs&feature=related

The hipsters are trying to attack us when we're most vulnerable. Even if it means on the loo, but we must fight fire with fire and champion an un-d-bag lifestyle without Docmartins and profile pictures with toy camera filters.

The Awkward Moment...

Every year comes with its fair share of phrases which saturate every day speech. In 2010 we saw the emergence of;

'not gonna lie but...'.

Yeah, I didn't think you were going to lie until you said that and planted the seeds of doubt. Now I'm not sure if I believe that that sandwich was actually amazing. After all you have every reason to lie about something which I have as little interest in as the 'Shopaholic' books. Seriously though, how do you manage to drag out the fact that she is a compulsive shopper and haunted by a man in a white mask called Jigsaw in seven books? Oh crap, I'm mixing up films in the genre;

'repeat-one-storyline-by-creating-ridiculous-numbers-of-sequels-until-people-notice-and-make-a-cult-out-of-it'.

'literally... (some sort of casual statement which makes 'literally' totally irrelevant)'.

'Literally' doesn't make your statement more credible. It's not as if we say, 'Woah, good thing she said she was literally eating chocolate, otherwise I might not have believed her'. It is the new 'like'. 'OMG I literally just wet myself laughing'. No you didn't, so you're a liar. Or you might have a problem. Either way, you're a liar or have a seriously weak bladder and may need help.

However, 2011 saw the outbreak of;

'the awkward moment when...'. 

This is a phrase which I hope dies with the rest of 2011. People used this all the time. "The awkward moment when you're eating cereal". Why are you uncomfortable around wheat products? "The awkward moment when you answer the phone". Yeah, that is awkward because you're just supposed to let it ring. I've been in my fair share of awkward moments and know that using the phrase 'the awkward moment when...' does not alleviate the situation and make it any less wrist slitting. With my best friends being Iranian and Cypriot, I also know that casual racism does not help, although it does momentarily divert attention, at your expense of course, but I would rather be a bigot than that ass who uses the 'awkward moment when'.