127 Hours in 127 words

Compelling, visceral, exciting, intense, well structured, not gratuitous, not very relaxing, you see Tom Hollander on the steps when you leave (though this might have just been for us), excellent sound (effects and score), could have been edited a bit in the middle when he gets a bit wise-ass, some really good passages though like the bit where he chops off his own arm *CHOP CHOP CHOP*, I had some popcorn, *CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP*

Lady Gaga takes the biscuit!

Reports that Lady Gaga had survived a bout of pyromania were discovered today to be sorely premature, as it emerged that the pop star had actually baked herself to a sweet caramel brown.
These shocking pictures show how Gaga, 23, has melted and shrunk into a largely featureless star shape as a result of being exposed to Gas Mark 4 for quarter of an hour during her stage show in Canada last year. She also smells of ginger.

The fashion-forward singer will be relieved that her outfits and sunglasses appear to have survived the blaze, although her neck seems to have taken a severe hit.

In any event, Gaga is reported to be alive and well, and planning a re-release of her greatest hits, including Poker Cake, Just Flans and Pa-biscotti.*

* I am so, so sorry.

The World's Greatest Flag

There was no messing around in The Benin Empire. If you went there, you went there with RESPECT OR LOOK WHAT HAPPENED:


The Benin Empire (1440-1897) was a pre-colonial African state of modern Nigeria. This was its flag. It depicts a man solemnly and very cleanly decapitating another man, who had just started to toprock.

Remember: the citizens of Benin LOATHE b-boying.

Bad head

Hey, want cool hair? GQ has just explained to me that Randi Lee, 34, has effortlessly cool (if bland) hair because "he always showers at night. Sometimes he uses shampoo, sometimes he just rinses. Then he goes to bed. When he wakes up in the morning, he’s already got the bedhead thing going.".

"Well," I thought to myself last night, "I can do that."

- Reasons why authentic bed head does not work -
1. First and foremost: superfluous sticky-up bits that make you look less "bed head" and more "idiot who cannot even get his hair to grow in the right way."

I once set off to school with what I thought was a rather racy new do (swept back in the style of Andy Garcia), only to find when I got there that my traitorous tresses had risen in the car and that rather than resembling a smooth-talking Mafioso, I looked like the self-conscious lovechild of a hedgehog and a greasy waiter. (I probably should have used 'POMADE', but the thought of smearing engine oil onto my head was appealing to my nine-year old self as it is now) My arrival at the school gates was met with howls of persecution from friends, teachers and the media that I can still hear today. At least I'm pretty sure it was the media. It was bad, anyway.

So that's danger #1.

2. Cold bits on the pillow that you roll back onto an hour after switching out the light. If God had intended me to sleep on a wet patch, he'd have withheld bladder control.

3. The risk that Stay-Puft from Ghostbusters will get you.*

4. You might end up looking like the imbecile from that advert, "Tim" or whatever he was called. You know the one I mean. "Everyone knows a bloke like Tim!!!!!"

I'll tell you what, gleeful voiceover man from Head and Shoulders, I do NOT know a bloke like Tim. I make it a point of principle. Or rather, if I DO know him, I know him as Tim, The Wanker With Faux Bed-Head Hair And A Horrible Array Of Smug Grins In Different Outfits. Not a moniker I am keen to acquire for myself. Certainly not if it necessitates sporting sticky-up bits and invoking the ire of a Ghostbusters baddie.

5. Admittedly this next one isn't so much a bed head problem as a 'washing your hair before bed' problem, but I think you're bright enough to see that that's what all this metrosexual bed head posturing was a cover for. My REAL issue is wet hair in bed. And do you know what the biggest risk involved with that is? WET-INSIDES-OF-EARS.

Wet-insides-of-ears create an instant and irrational feeling of vulnerability. I think my subconscious hypothesis is that earwigs (which obviously aim to live in actual ears) prefer wet, slimy ears (LIKE THEIR DISGUSTING SLITHERY BODIES) to normal ears. Ergo, fall asleep with wet ears, have brain eaten by earwigs. It's that simple.

So unless you like being papped as a weeping nine year old or BEING EATEN ALIVE FROM THE INSIDE OUT, leave the bed head to lothable lotharios from TV Land and wash your hair in the morning. Sorted.

Next week: Stray Nail Clippings - "One Thousand Splendid Swords."

* When I was small I was afraid of the hairdryer. But my Mum told me that if my hair wasn't dried properly before bed, I would get DAN DRUFF. Dan Druff rooted himself into my worldview as a monster in the style of Stay-Puft, the fictional Michelin-sponsored ghoul from Ghostbusters. I am assuming that this exact scenario happened to everyone. Even if it didn't, ignorance will not save you from his marshmallow-fuelled wet-haired fury so you best watch out.

Gene Pool

This week's award for Wilful Blindness goes to Magdalena Kwiatkowska, a Polish lady who is suing an Egyptian hotel after claiming her 13-year-old daughter got pregnant using their swimming pool.

Pervert.
Kwiatkowska Junior came back from the family holiday expecting a baby, only mother is adamant that her daughter didn't meet any boys while she was there and so must have conceived as a result of "stray sperm" in the pool.

- Some Questions -

• What made you conclude that "stray sperm" got into the swimming pool? How? Unless I'm missing out on something, and breast stroke really is what I hoped it was when I was 8, I reckon that the average man manages to contain himself when trundling around a big tiled ditch filled with water.


• What sort of role do you envisage the swimming pool having in his child's life? Do you intend to pursue the pool for child support? Will it be invited round for Christmas? (Purely for the child's sake if nothing else) (you know how popular kids with pools are)


• I'm no scientist, but bearing in mind that chlorine is three times as strong as bromine and six times as strong as iodine, how do you think sperm gets on in a swimming pool? I'm wiling to bet that it's not very happy. Probably not sufficiently potent to prowl around looking for young girls to fertilise. Probably dead after about five minutes?


• On the other hand - you see that kid strutting around the hotel beaming and smoking a fat cigar? That's the pool boy. Go talk to him.

A letter to Downing Street

Dear Prime Minister,

I understand I am not the first to express dismay over your apparent lack of leadership during these troubled times. But compared to members of your cabinet and the opposition, I find your lack of visibility to be absolutely appalling.

If other politicans find the time to go out and reassure the public with their presence, why can't you? I have had first hand experience of this and have summarised my grievance in verse.

      I saw David Cameron
      Out buying gammon

      And Nicholas Clegg
      Buying butter and eggs

      When I'm in the park
      I chat with Ken Clarke

      And frequently pause
      To greet Edward Balls

      Hilary Benn
      I spot now and then

      And feel virtually plagued
      by William Hague

      Harriet Harman
      Now helps in the garden

      Even Hazel Blears
      Still often appears

      But, Gordon Brown
      I never see you in town

      But I've got a new tea set
      So please do come round

Now, as I have said many, many times before, I am 99.3% sure that these political sightings are correct. I don't know why so many ministers buy their groceries in my village, given that it is 200 miles from London – maybe it's the farmer's market or something, I don't know – but they do. Now this is the THIRD TIME I have written to you inviting you to tea and I will NOT BE STOOD UP AGAIN. This morning I saw Tessa Jowell buying a towel and she said such behaviour was typical of you, but I am giving you ONE LAST CHANCE.

I shall expect you at 3.00 o'clock tomorrow. Joining our table will be Vincent Cable.

Yours sincerely,



Mr Christopher

Ode to Chefs

Gordon Ramsey
You really take my fancy!
To those who say you're a pansy:
I'll show them the back of my handsy

Ainsley Harriot
Fetch me a chariot!
Not sure how you should carry it.
Park it at the Marriott.

Antony Worrall Thompson
I have bought you a Brompton!
It's for you to cycle to jobs on
(I've got some route maps if you want them)

Gary Rhodes!
Put back on your clothes!
You can hardly suppose
That I want to see those!

Rick Stein,
Is that mine?!
You stole it you swine!
You do this all the time.

The London Fan Museum

Last night saw the 100,000th visitor to London's Fan Museum (below).


The Fan Museum features a collection of fans unparalleled in the western world, and is one of the capital's up and coming tourist attractions. Notable fans preserved in the museum include:

• King Abdullah II of Jordan, who has made no secret of his admiration for the Star Trek franchise and who even appeared in an episode of Star Trek: Voyager. He cheerfully abdicated from the throne when told he could live in the museum and be encased next to John Barrowman (famously a fan of Deep Space Nine). Sadly, by the time the latter pulled out due to his Torchwood filming commitments, King Abdullah was already settling into his display cabinet. However, he is reported to be quite happy in the museum since receiving Star Quest: Conquest for the Wii last Christmas. King Abdullah hopes to receive an actual Wii on which to play the game this year.
  


• Michael Soleta, the museum's newest resident. Soleta is a longtime Michael Jackson fan who flew directly from the Michael Jackson public memorial service in Los Angeles to London Luton airport to be transferred to the museum's entertainment gallery. As he leapt into an SUV outside the Staples Center on Tuesday, Soleta said: "I can't believe I'm actually going! This is going to be great!" Museum sources have since indicated that Soleta has settled in very well and will be available for public viewing from the end of August.
  


• Matthew Simmons, who lives in a well-proportioned perspex tank in the museum's international wing. His case is fitted with a boot on a stick so that he may re-enact the flying kung-fu kick he received from Eric Cantona in 1995. He is draped from head to toe in the tricolour, and tickets may be bought at the museum's box office for his hourly performance of La Marseillaise, which was described by Time Out as "proud and saucy".
  


• Chris Doyle, a singer and actor who was only transferred to the museum as a result of administrative confusion caused by the name of his 2002 smash hit film. However, upon his installation to the museum Doyle decided to stay and has since become very popular with visitors and staff, cracking jokes with museum-goers and running the museum's bridge nights.
  


• That fat woman who thought she was married to TV and radio personality Mike Read and sent him faxes in the nude. She's right at back, near the toilets.

At a ceremony in the museum's Darwin Wing yesterday, Artistic Director Hélène Alexander said: "It is a tremendous honour to be at the helm of this great institution as we pass yet another milestone. However, none of this would be possible without the general public – without their love and support, we wouldn't be here. Put simply: this one's for the fans."

The London Fan Museum is open 365 days a year, from 0900-1800 between May and September, and from 0900-1700 during the rest of the year. Adults: £4.00; Concessions: £3.00; Children (under 7): Free; Over 7 and under 16: £3.

_____ Rope Wallet

I got an awful lot out of the following product description on the Urban Outfitters site:

"Nautical doesn't even begin to describe this purse."

'Nautical' quite literally does begin both the name and description of this purse.

Maybe what they mean is: "It's like, really nautical! Like not just a BIT nautical, but like totally nautical? Do you know what I mean? Like really, really, REALLY nautical" rather than "'Nautical' is not even a word I would use to describe it."

Sparks Fly at Awards Show; Artist Safe

Popular drag act 'Lady GaGa' set himself on fire at the Much Music awards in Canada recently.

MTV reported that as part of a costume that unusually and inadvertently generated publicity, Lady GaGa "was sporting a conical gadget over his boobs loaded with pyrotechnics. The outlandish singer was singing his hit 'Poker Face' when his chest lit up like a firework."

Early reports are that Mr. GaGa is in perfect health following the incident and that his underwear on this occasion was in fact chosen for its candescence. However, the singer stated: "I am surprised to learn that my exploding bra may have detracted from the musical focus of my performance. Left to my own devices, I would gladly wear a sensible pair of trousers and a nice old jumper, but you know how these PR people are."

Indeed, the subtle and enigmatic artist normally has an impeccable sense of propriety, but through devilishly manipulative questioning has recently been tricked into revealing many personal secrets, such as his musings on love:

       Interviewer: What do you look for in a partner?
       Mr. GaGa: A big dick.
       Interviewer: And what else?
       Mr. GaGa: That's it.

Lady GaGa also recently explained that he was glad not to have been born in the 1970s, because he would probably have spent all his time consuming hallucinogenic drugs instead of focusing on his music (something for which the 21st century music scene is very thankful). As substance abuse has often been seen as the tortured corollary to artistic genius, cultural and literary authorities around the globe are in agreement that such a statement is clear proof of Mr. GaGa's genuine artistic credentials.

While those with lower capacities for artistic appreciation view the recent event at the Much Music awards as a non-incident best summed up by the phrase 'Dead-Eyed Man Has Sparkling Tits, Hopes For Sales', it has generated hundreds of articles from more musically educated news sources, rightfully driving other less important stories off the front page.

Long may it continue, for as the Daily Star respectfully noted following the Much Music awards, "Lord only knows how he’ll top those BANGERS at Glastonbury this weekend!"

The world holds its breath.

A worrying trend

Wordle of Edwin's Raisin to date:


Eek.

Mr Christopher's Log II

Star Date 2009-05-18 1300: Greetings earthlings! Have got quite used to living my life like someone in Star Trek. Don't really miss normal life at all now! Spent Sunday putting together a cupboard from Ikea, which was hard to do in a particularly Star Trek way, but I managed by shouting "STARRR TRRREK!" at the top of my voice every few minutes, and then "CUPBOARD!" when that got boring.

Star Date 2009-05-18 1310: Other Star Trek-related changes I have made lately:

• am only feeding my cat, Keith, 'Space Food', which is just normal Whiskas with rocks (meteors) and worms (aliens) in


• have written 'Star Trek' down the side of my car. Only I wasn't concentrating and spelt it 'Star Treck', which is a shame


• have thrown all my pens away at work and refuse to conduct business using anything but the LCARS computer system and a Universal Translator.

It's all going really well! Except for the work one, as it turns out that LCARS thing and the translator haven't been invented yet, so I can't do any work. (Captain Boss not too happy. )

Star Date 2009-05-18 1600: Had to answer to office manager for throwing away my pens (destruction of company property). She asked me to write her a letter of apology. "With what?" I cried, "a Tricorder?!" Thought this was quite funny, but unfortunately she knew quite a lot about Star Trek and apparently the Tricorder would not be an appropriate tool. I suggested a 'Space Pen', but she just told me to go back to my office. Must brush up on Star Trek words.

Star Date 2009-05-18 2130: Going to bed. Bit sad as I haven't seen Keith all day. Think he doesn't like Space Food. All I'd say to that is: what do you expect if you live with someone in Star Trek? He just ought to be grateful that he's the first cat in space.

Star Date 2009-05-18 2140: Looked it up online: first cat in space was actually 1963. That explains Keith's mood. Also remembered that he's not actually in space - probably makes him even more angry. Poor Keith.

Star Date 2009-05-19 0800: Found Keith – under my space bed all along! Left the house in a great mood, only to find someone has changed the 'T' into a 'W' on my car, so it now says 'Star Wreck'. Bit mean. Tried underlining 'Wreck' and sticking on glitter to make it look deliberate but to be honest it looks totally weird.

Star Date 2009-05-19 0915: Alas! More bad luck! Bumped into senior manager as I got to my desk. She gave me this smirky smile and asked whether I used my Tricoder to get into work. I panicked for a bit because I forgot to look up any space terms last night, but then had a brainwave and told her no - I prefer to 'Warp Drive' my car thanks very much! That shut her up! On with the day!

Mr. Christopher's Log

Star Date 2009-05-14 0945: Saw the new Star Trek film and have decided to live my life through a Captain's Log! Hopefully I too will start to resemble a simple-looking Brad Pitt. Quite proud of my Star Date system (normal Earth date and time, just in a funny format!). Am trying to buy a little badge to pin to my suit.

Star Date 2009-05-14 1030: Have abandoned the search for a badge as they cost ten Star Pounds online. Have made one myself out of a milk bottle top. Looks quite good!

Star Date 2009-05-14 1035: Strange smell lingering around my Star Desk.

Star Date 2009-05-14 1040: Realised I didn't clean milk top properly. Stale milk all over suit. Steven said it looks like a pigeon's crapped on me. I sniffed that it would have to be a SPACE pigeon but I don't think he heard. Tried to wipe it off but the smell still remains – or rather, it is still Klinging On!

Star Date 2009-05-14 1045: Trying to get Steven to comment on the smell again so I can make my 'Klinging On' joke. Harder than I thought. Think I'm just drawing atention to the smell.

Star Date 2009-05-14 1050: Steven held his nose and called me Captain James T. Turd. Everyone laughed - but then I remarked that he shouldn't 'Kling On' to toilet humour. Everyone silent at first (probably trying to get it) but then laughed too! 60% sure that it was with me rather than at me. Never can tell.

Star Date 2009-05-14 1130: Decided I don't want to be the Captain, as I want to be able to say "I don't have the power Captain!" to somebody else. Have designated my boss as Captain. Complimented him on his new business plan during a meeting – said it was most Enterprise-ing! I nearly fell off my chair laughing but nobody else seemed to get it.

Star Date 2009-05-14 1100: Steven brought round his friend Timothy to laugh at me. I was ignoring them quite well until Steven said "It's life Tim, but not as we know it" and, well, you can't help but laugh can you! Unfortunately I was eating a biscuit at the time and sprayed it across my computer. I shrieked "MY COMMAND DECK!" without thinking and everyone laughed again. Beginning to wish that Steven would just boldly go where he has never been before (i.e. away from me)! Ha ha

To be continued...

She's Apprentice Mad

Just had a little look at MSN's Apprentice lookalikes.

Uncanny! Well done Lorna Cooper, TV Editor!

Another triumph! Excellent work Lorna!

But what's this?...

OH DEAR LORNA.

That woman does not resemble Munch's famous painting at all. And your accompanying comment - "What a resemblance to Munch's famous painting!" - only makes you sound MORE DISTURBED.

Lorna Cooper (TV Editor), I think you should seek psychiatric help. You are UNWELL. Like Charlize Theron in The Devil's Advocate, you see monsters everywhere when they are JUST NOT THERE.

Poor Lorna Cooper.

A Love Letter

Dear Sir / Madam,

I have never written one of these letters before, but I must tell you how I feel. I can't get you out of my mind!

We met in Whittard of Chelsea in Durham. You were standing behind the counter. I think that you worked there (I hope so otherwise you should not have been behind the counter! I hope you are not the sort of person who sneaks round the till to steal money / snoop for secret recipes / peek at 'Staff Only' notices etc.)

(Having said that, if you did find a recipe, I should be very interested in knowing how Whittard of Chelsea blends its tea and coffee. But not its hot chocolate as I think I know already (chocolate and hot water!))

You were behind the counter (let's say working) (for now) and I was admiring the grand selection of teas, coffees, mugs, teapots, tableware, caddies and little trays you can put tea bags on if you've made it in a mug but don't want to have to walk all the way back to the bin.

We spoke.

I said: "Do you sell those little trays you can put tea bags on if you've made it in a mug but don't want to have to walk all the way back to the bin?"

You said: "Do you mean a saucer?"

I said: "Well not a saucer like from a cup and saucer, it's like a specially designed saucer that's just for putting your tea bag on if you don't want to walk..."

And you said: "Yeah, a saucer. They're there."

You pointed to a shelf of products in front of me. I was thrilled to discover that you were right (so typical of you!!!).

I had a look, but didn't actually buy one in the end as they cost over three pounds Sterling (in fact nearly three and a half pounds Sterling) (£3.49) and frankly I thought that that was too much for a saucer that cannot even be used with a cup. You do know you can just walk to the bin?

(Maybe you should pass this feedback on to your superiors - although in my eyes, it is not as if anyone is superior to you!!! Except perhaps Walter Whittard, the merchant who founded Whittard of Chelsea in 1886. You can hardly say that he was not onto a good thing when he saw it (the thing)!)

Anyway, I knew right there and then that you were the girl for me. I said to Nick, my friend who had come with me (but melted into the scenery when I clapped my lugs on you!) (Are lugs eyes? I think so), I said: "Nick, that girl is the girl for me!"

A few of the other customers turned around but I didn't care. We were in love and I didn't give a fig who knew it! I said it again, louder this time, but I don't think you heard because you were talking to a customer who was asking about the Chip and PIN system of payment for credit or debit cards (do you remember when that was still new? I just take it for granted now!) and whether he could use it to pay for Dreamtime Instant Tea and 125g Chocolate Coated Coffee Beans (which are far nicer than I expected - it must be the way Whittard of Chelsea blend them! Maybe we could talk about it on holiday together)

He could, as his card had been activated.

Anyway, I didn't buy anything in the end (due to Whittard of Chelsea's unrealistic pricing policy - see above). I left the shop and we have not spoken since. But I was wondering if you would like to contact me so that we can continue our conversation (and maybe think about marrying just moving in together?)

You are the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thing I thing about before I go to sleep. I will love you until the end of time. Only it was a few years ago - and you were quite old even then - so I hope you are not dead.

Either way, I should appreciate a reply so that we can start our new life together as quickly as possible (time is probably quite short for you!!!)

If this letter has fallen into the wrong hands (spies from Taylors of Harrogate or other of our enemies!), please direct it to the person who was working when I came in (picture attached).

Yours forever,

Mr. Christopher
Your future husband (to be!)

Edwin's Raisin goes political

As you may be able to tell from the above, I'm thinking of becoming much more political on here (I'm deeply pro-hat).

This is because I see that the BBC News page is very popular so thought maybe if I talk about news I'll get more followers. More followers than one.

So. WHAT NEWS IS THERE TO TALK ABOUT. Swine Flu? I could trotter out my favourite swine flu puns:

• Worried about swine flu? Why not go and get some oinkment, ha ha ha!
• I think I have swine flu as I have come out in a rasher, ha ha ha!
• Hey! Do not get swine flu; it is sow unbecoming, ha ha ha!
• Apparently we should be fine: the UK has been stockpiling Hamiflu for years, ha ha ha!
• I just called the NHS Swine Flu helpline, but all I got was crackling, ha ha ha!
• People wonder who started swine flu - all I can say is that it s'nout to do with me, ha ha ha!

I hope that wasn't too boaring for everyone.

I could also talk about hats to make it look like there was a reason for that Aretha Franklin picture at the start.

A brief history of Mr. Christopher's hats:

• Age 7: gets a cowboy hat from Tunisia. Wears it for a bit before realising looks like a berk. Puts it on teddy and leaves it at home. Tells friends, friends think he is a berk. 7 too old to be putting hats on teddies.
  
• Age 8: has a very garish multi-coloured baseball cap. Takes it on holiday. Blows off head while on boat. Shrieks and cries like a girl. Hopes teddy is taking care of cowboy hat at home.
  
• Ages 9-14: stung by previous experiences; pretty quiet on the hat front.
  
• Age 15: gets a Tour de France cap. Wears it and realises maybe hats are back. Keeps it away from teddy (don't want him getting jealous and nabbing it!)
  
• Age 16: thinks is black. Gets a Fubu hat. Wears it backwards. Friends, family and - most upsettingly - teddy thinks he is a berk.
  
• Age 19: buys flat cap in Paris. Wears it a lot. Comments rage from "like Will Young!" to "like a wanker!" Teddy saying nothing.
  
• Age 20: wears an array of caps, beanies and the flat cap at university. Oh if teddy could see me now!
  
• Age 24: buys a trilby. World howls in dismay. Teddy moves out.
  
• Age 25: becomes skeptical of hats again.
  
• Age 26: sees Arethra Franklin's hat on Obama inauguration. Likes it, buys it. Teddy moves back in.

There we go! Linked back in and a happy ending to boot. BBC watch out.