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Originally Written: 04/02/10
Hell Yeah, Boxing.
I like music. And I like people who like music. But more than anything, I like people who get angry and like to fight about music. Because I like doing that too.
This gave me the brilliant idea of posting a survey on facebook which placed some of the greatest bands known to man head-to-head in battle. I tagged 100 of my friends and asked them to have their say, hoping at least 50 of them would partake. It was here I realized that I am not quite as popular as I like to believe, as only 23 of them filled it out. That's ok though, I don't mind, and I cheerfully got the remaining votes from the greatest music community on the planet, RateYourMusic.
This is what happened:
01. Sex Pistols vs. The Clash
Winner: The Clash
I CONCUR
Pssst: Dear People-Who-Voted-For-The-Sex-Pistols... Have you seen Johnny Rotten on any good reality TV shows lately? How about his stint promoting Country Life Butter? Where's your Punk now bitches?? The Clash owns, hands down, case closed, thank you.
02. Tupac Shakur vs. The Notorious B.I.G.
Winner: Tupac Shakur
I CONCUR
Tupac not only sold more records than B.I.G. but also claimed to have slept with Faith Evans, Biggie's wife at the time. Points there mate. At the end of the day they both got shot, so let this be a lesson to you kids - don't listen to Hip-Hop. 
03. Bob Dylan vs. Johnny Cash
Winner: Bob Dylan
I CONCUR
Hey, so did I tell you about the time I saw Bob Dylan live? Yeah, cos I did. And by "saw Bob Dylan live " I mean I saw a miniature blurry figure on a stage a million miles away, but he was there. And so was I, so I think I actually win in the end.
04. Tenacious D vs. Flight Of The Conchords
Winner: Flight Of The Conchords
I CONCUR
Once upon a time there was a really funny actor named Jack Black who started a band with a guy named Kyle Gass, got Dave Grohl to play drums and released a debut album that everyone loved. So then they decided to go one step further, and make an entire movie and an album about the "Pick of Destiny", which was almost funny, but really pretty shit. Flight Of The Conchords, on the other hand, are still awesome and got more votes, so yeah.
05. Britney Spears vs. Lady Gaga
Winner: Lady Gaga
I DISAGREE
Gaga is so hot right now. I mean, Britney has Toxic, probably the greatest pop song in the last 10 years, but I guess she doesn't have the fancy costumes and make-up? Don't get me wrong, I love Lady Gaga, but until she shaves her head and attacks a car with an umbrella, I'm not convinced. Unless the rumours about her having a penis are true, then yeah, I'm convinced.
06. Fatboy Slim vs. The Chemical Brothers
Winner: The Chemical Brothers
I CONCUR
I was always disappointed that Fatboy Slim was much more Slim than Fatboy. I kinda felt like I was lied to. Whereas I am pretty sure The Chemical Brothers take lots of drugs, and therefore seem like the more honest choice.
07. Metallica vs. Slayer
Winner: Metallica
I DISAGREE
But... but... I thought everyone hated Metallica? Don't you guys remember when they sued Napster? Slayer will eat your PC before they even knew how to turn it on. Or how about Lars' snare sound on St Anger? Whereas Dave Lombardo was reaching 210 beats per minute on the Reign in Blood album (fact). Doesn't this mean anything to you people? SLAYER WOULD DRAIN METALLICA'S BLOOD AND MAKE A SHRINE WITH IT but I guess I have no proof of that.
08. Blur vs. Oasis
Winner: Blur
I CONCUR
Ah, the age old Battle Of Britpop, heavily debated between NME readers with cool hair since 1995. I honestly thought Oasis would win this round, but I'm glad to see we are all on the same page here. And while Noel Gallagher has quit to pursue a solo career (a move that is bad news to both Gallagher's careers) Damon Albarn has his band The Good, the Bad & the Queen to keep us happy. Oh, and did I mention Gorillaz? Yeah, he also has Gorillaz.
09. Jack Johnson vs. Regina Spektor
Winner: Regina Spektor
I CONCUR
Most surprised by this one. I was almost certain that you people had no idea who Regina was and have been bracing myself to explain to you slowly why she is my favourite female artist right now (subject to change whenever). So I'm impressed with ya'll, but now I feel it is important to say that Jack Johnson makes me very happy and I would buy him beer.
10. John Lennon vs. Paul McCartney
Winner: John Lennon
I CONCUR
Paul McCartney is the most successful songwriter in the history of popular music, fact, according to The Guinness Book of Records. He has 60 gold discs and sales of 100 million singles. His song Yesterday is listed as the most covered song in history by over 3,500 artists so far, and has been played more than 7,000,000 times on American television and radio. He was responsible for 32 number one singles on the U.S. Hot 100 chart. He is the only artist to reach the UK number one as a soloist ("Pipes of Peace"), duo ("Ebony and Ivory" with Stevie Wonder), trio ("Mull of Kintyre", Wings), quartet ("She Loves You", The Beatles), quintet ("Get Back", The Beatles with Billy Preston) and as part of a musical ensemble for charity (Ferry Aid). But John Lennon was the second coming, so that is all.
11. Cradle Of Filth vs. Dimmu Borgir
Winner: Cradle Of Filth
I CONCUR
I did once try to crucify a virgin whilst listening to Dimmu Borgir, but it just wasn't the same.
12. Massive Attack vs. Portishead
Winner: Portishead
I CONCUR
I'm sorry guys, I know this was hard, the two Bristol Trip-Hop Heavy-Weights against each other. It was rude of me to ask but at least it is all over. However, it stands to point out that Massive Attack reached their peak in 1998 with Mezzanine. 10 years later, Portishead released Third, and it was so good that I puked on my lap right before I had my first ever epileptic fit. Good times.
13. Guns N' Roses vs. Faith No More
Winner: Guns N' Roses
I DISAGREE
You can't get much closer than this really. Look, Axl is a twat, but I think that is his whole appeal or something? Anyways, Faith No More just reunited, Guns N' Roses replaced every member, and I hate change, so I disagree.
14. Frank Sinatra vs. Elvis Presley
Winner: TIED
I VOTED FOR ELVIS
This... is... AWESOME. Because you can't decide! You just can't! There is no way! Everything else is shit besides for these 2 guys! Everything! Especially YOUR MOM.
15. Rihanna vs. Beyonce
Winner: Beyonce
I DISAGREE
I used to love Beyonce, until she was all up in my face telling me to "put a ring on it"?? Damn lady, and you wonder why the divorce rate is so high? Her ass is big anyway.
UPDATE: I fucked up the statistics here. Beyonce was 54%. My bad, and I apologise.
16. Muse vs. Placebo
Winner: Muse
I CONCUR
Yeah, ok, Muse has talent, but that chick who sings for Placebo is much hotter. 
17. Eminem vs. Jay-Z
Winner: Eminem
I CONCUR
Why didn't you guys vote for Jay-Z? Is it cos he is black? Or do you prefer the guy who talks about slitting his wife's throat whereas Jay-Z is happily married to Beyonce? Personally, I dig the way Eminem got sexual with Borat at the MTV Music awards, I haven't actually ever heard his music.
18. The Beatles vs. The Rolling Stones
Winner: The Beatles
I CONCUR
Everytime someone tells me that they prefer The Rolling Stones, I just remind them that The Stones' second single (I Wanna Be Your Man) and their first ever song to reach the UK Top 15 was actually written by The Beatles themselves.
19. Lily Allen vs. The Streets
Winner: The Streets
I DISAGREE
The funniest thing about this one is how almost everyone who voted for The Streets apologized to me for doing so, hahaha. Yes, I voted for Lily, but it was a hard one. Put it this way: I have never bought an album from Allen, but I have bought the first 3 of Mike Skinner's releases. That said, I have never made a website trying to meet Mike Skinner, so that means something I am sure.
20. Queen vs. David Bowie
Winner: David Bowie
I CONCUR
Freddie Mercury is a God, but David Bowie is an alien from Mars trying to save us all with music. It's a tough call, but at least David didn't die of AIDS you know? Ha, just kidding Freddie, you know I love you.
21. The Red Hot Chili Peppers vs. Queens Of The Stone Age
Winner: TIED
I VOTED FOR THE PEPPERS
I found this very tough. While The Queens were one of the pioneers of stoner rock, The Peppers have more letters in their name. In all honesty, until Josh Homme's releases an Autobiography detailing how he did Heroin when he was 10 years old, my vote stays with The Peppers. But this was very interesting indeed.
22. Madonna vs. Michael Jackson
Winner: Michael Jackson
I CONCUR
I bet you would've voted for Madonna if she had just DIED TOO RIGHT?? No? Yeah, me neither I suppose.
23. The Pixies vs. Nirvana
Winner: Nirvana
I CONCUR
This was the hardest one for me, and a lot of you commented how difficult you found it as well. Nirvana did change my life, but I really can't talk anymore about this because it hurts too much.
24. Nine Inch Nails vs. Marilyn Manson
Winner: Nine Inch Nails
I CONCUR
I used to be in love with Manson, but has he released anything of any relevance in the last 7 years? No not really. Whereas Trent has released 7 albums in the last 7 years (if you split up the Quadruple Ghost recordings). Oh, and Trent did sign Manson to his Nothing Record Label before Manson had any luck finding a deal, so I have no problem with this one.
25. The Doors vs. Pink Floyd
Winner: Pink Floyd
I DISAGREE
Each to their own, but everytime I listen to Pink Floyd, this little voice in my head flares up and won't go away. It tells me to hurt myself, and my therapist said I had to stop playing Floyd in my room at night or she wouldn't see me anymore.
26. Radiohead vs. Coldplay
Winner: Radiohead
I CONCUR
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA I have no idea why I asked, sorry.
27. Robbie Williams vs. Justin Timberlake
Winner: Justin Timberlake
I CONCUR
It's a tough one, because while JT did break Britney's well-publicized virginity, Robbie slept with 3 out of 5 Spice Girls. And while Take-That were bad, *Nsync made me want to cut myself. But Justin dances better, and it might have been the ugly 3 Spice Girls anyway.
28. Pearl Jam vs. Soundgarden
Winner: Pearl Jam
I DISAGREE
I may disagree, but they will both always be winners in my eyes <3
29. Led Zeppelin vs. Black Sabbath
Winner: Led Zeppelin
I CONCUR
Some people had a difficult time with this one. However, most of us didn't, and I think the reason is because Robert Plant has never been on a Reality TV Show mumbling to himself incoherently. I love you Ozzy, but my church used to warn me that Sabbath lead to Satanism. Now you are just a rehab poster boy for the effects of alcoholism.
30. Pro-Life vs. Pro-Choice
Winner: Pro-Choice
I CONCUR
KEEP YOUR LAWS OFF OF MY VAGINA.
Thank God that's over.
THE COOL KIDS
The 50 Who Voted, In Order Of Submission
Gerard Janse Van Rensburg; Julia Fabrin Jakobsen; Armin Van Wyk; Paul 'Kenni' Kennedy; Utopus; Mike Dowson; Ammr Khalifa; dmpulp; Karl Rohloff; Alistair Fey; Jacques van Heerden; Kirsten Templar; thisispop71; Incubus17; Samantha Alsemgeest; Jonathan Van Der Velden; Planetist; Jupiter82; APH; Edgie Gypsy; Jaclyn Woods; Adrian Blount; EskimoChain; QFXC; Usurping_Python; Christine Hull; metalbrain; Dew1400; VAAC; Zidanie5; dt2; AeroCooper; satyagraaha; Slot_Machine_777; popoyt; mini_ahlin; ason_jones; jjmsmusic; 51392; Leandra de Waal; Neil Sinclair; Dion Troubadour Power; MacDougall; hfield07; phnuggle; lostmonkeys2; Sarah Adams; Lisa C; Janet Sarah Austin; and JARED WOODS uhn tiss uhn tiss.
Originally Written: 22/01/10
Believe it or not:
This was only the second biggest mistake of my life.
As I sit here at the Citizens Advice Bureau waiting to find out how I can fight the case of my missing moneys, I thought a good way to pass the time would be to tell you a story that happened to me a few months back. Please bear with me.
I'll never forget it, it was a miserable day and I was walking around Oxford Street with no idea how I got there. Maybe it was Bus 159 but that's irrelevant, I guess. I had just had a Sub of the Day with The Works and despite the cold drizzle, I was feeling chipper as fuck and pretty invincible as I do.
Oxford Street is a consumer paradise, logos of well known brands blaring into my brain and no doubt begging for purchases - as if they needed the money. I needed their fucking money, who's story is this anyway?
Anyway, I consider myself to be somewhat of a genius. IQ tests may disagree, but I wrote the book on Physics For Dummies and I do believe much of Stephen Hawkins' work was based on mine (that bastard). But when I saw a dirty old shop called “That Voodoo You Do” I couldn't quite place where I had seen it before. It was like Deja Vu, except more like an acid trip I took in 'Nam. My heels spun and I entered the small room without much thought on the matter at all.
It stunk like incense and urine, or urine flavoured incense, which seemed impractical to me. I'm sure you can picture it, your cliché looking witch covent except everything had a price tag on it. I swear, even the cobwebs on the ceiling were going for around £1.50 and everything was brown.
A small bell chimed as the door closed behind me and a little old lady who looked like Meryl Streep glanced up and smiled. She was ugly as a dog but I was attracted to her, if you must know. “Touch anything you want” she said to me, and I wasn't sure if she was referring to her merchandise or her body. She looked down and continued fumbling over her game of Sudoku in the London Paper (RIP) and I felt compelled to look busy as if I meant to buy something.
She looked nothing like this really.
The thing is, nothing begged to be touched at all - on contrary, everything looked like it was infected with a VD. Everything, but this slightly oversized microscope sitting uncharacteristically between a skull of a small animal and a voodoo doll that looked like me mum. It was weird man, I wanted to run but instead I found myself right in front of the microscope which was priced at £10 – a steal really.
Despite my gut-feel, I leant over and peered in. At first it was a blur and it hurt my eye. I blinked furiously until a picture began to form. I was confused, it didn't make sense. Because once the image focused, I was staring at yet another microscope.
I don't know about you, but I was raised to believe that if you look through a microscope and see another microscope, there is big trouble ahead indeed. Instantly I got a headache and finally my legs obeyed me as I turned to run out of the shop. I heard the old lady cackle and I think she screamed at me “They always come back!”
The weird thing is that I don't remember the rest of the day at all. My next memory was sitting on my bed, clutching my pillow like it was my girlfriend or something. I think I was even licking the casing, and that's embarrassing.
Since then my dreams haven't been the same. I keep having ones about a book that I just can't open and a jersey that knits itself. Which is a refreshing break from my usual dreams filled with murderous screams of rape in the depths of hell, but it was unsettling all the same.
I could go on, but the point of this story is where it all went wrong. For the life of me I can't tell you how this happened, but it did happen, and it is too late now.
It was a Friday night, I was alone at home in Hackney Central and I got a friend request on facebook. I clicked the link and I got such a fright I inhaled my coffee and spluttered it all over my keyboard. The request was from “The Microscope”. We had a thousand friends in common, which is really strange because I don't even have a thousand friends.
I freaked and clicked Ignore. As soon as I lifted my finger off of the mouse, the Ignore button disappeared but the request stayed, and our friends in common jumped up by a further thousand. I must express to you: I was completely sober.
Of course I was scared, but this was still pretty amazing. I was intrigued, and at this point I felt I had no choice. I accepted the request and as I did so, my PC shut down. My PC is old and decrepit, so I wasn't surprised and figured it was possibly just a bug or a flashback, and stood up to get more coffee. And then there it was.
The microscope was sitting in my door way, and I could feel it looking at me. I screamed like Axl Rose and then this voice boomed “SHUT UP!” and I did.
“Do not be afraid,” it said “I am the best thing that has ever happened to you. I am here to grant you one wish – ANY wish you want. Look into your heart – what is it you most desire? I will give it to you.” This is word for word, I'll never forget it.
My mind raced. A million quid would be nice? How about Hannah Murray tied up in my bed? Or world peace – always a good one? And this is where it happened – the biggest mistake of my life. And I don't know why.
“I wish you were addicted to cigarettes” I said.
“What?” The Microscope questioned.
“You heard me,” I continued “I wish you were a fucking chain smoker for the rest of your life. I wish you felt like death every time you weren't filling you mechanical lungs up with toxic smoke. I wish from now on, you were a hopeless fag addicted microscope.”
There was a pause. Then a cigarette slid out the eye piece of the microscope as if it had been hiding there all along, and smoke bellowed out of all sides.
“SO BE IT, you asshole” it spat at me out of a cloud of nicotine, and then disappeared forever.
I don't know why I wished for that. God, I'd love to have a million quid right now. But seriously, it just came out! I really wanted nothing more than a microscope to be bound by addiction in that moment, and I totally regret this. But at least I never saw it again, and I do laugh every time I think of this smoking microscope trying to grant wishes whilst it coughs it's cogs into a frenzy.
The dreams are still there though.
Ok, my number has been called, it's my turn to talk to an advisor. But please, listen to what I'm saying kids. Don't smoke, it'll kill you.
<3 Jared
Originally Written: 12/01/10
This image is not photoshopped in anyway.
It was taken in 1971 and I was dressed as RoboCop.
As my quest to meet Lily Allen continues, I thought now would be a good time to tell you about the other celebrities I have come into "contact" with in my life. This is important you see, because I was born with a misshapen spleen and a floating rib made of chalk in my body, which harnesses some of the GREATEST POWERS KNOWN TO MAN. Well, that's what I've been told anyway. It was supposed to start working around puberty, but it just never seemed to switch on. My organs are fucked, they just kind of move around the inside of me, really slowly. Almost all my intestines have been near my collar bone for over 6 months now.
So I went and chilled with a witch-doctor in South Peru, who was an asshole. He burnt me with his cigarette once on purpose, told me it was tradition and then he laughed. Anyways, he also told me that my internal turmoil would only truly break free of their spell once I had sucked the fame out of an unknown amount of celebrities around the world. Which seemed logical and I left feeling somewhat enlightened I guess. I knew it was worth the shot anyway, and I set about on my quest. This is how far I have come:
Famous For:
A top supermodel of the 1990's, and she married David Copperfield.
The Story:
When I was like 12 years old or something, I had a massive crush on Claudia. I collected a bunch of her pictures and showed them off like she was my girlfriend. One day some 7th Grader promised me that he had her signature, and he would trade it for the pictures. I would've jizzed in my pants if I was a year older. I agreed, and sure enough, he brought me her signature the very next day. In the end, it was a fake and a cruel joke, so maybe this entry doesn't count.
Famous For:
Drummer for SlipKnoT. Lesser known as the guitarist for Murder Dolls, and even lesser known for other stuff too.
The Story:
I was in Australia and I went to see SlipKnoT. One of the drummers (I like to pretend it was Joey) threw his drumstick in the crowd. I was nowhere near it and didn't even see it. But after the show I was standing in the queue to take a piss and the guy next to me had it in his hand. He let me touch it with my index finger. I sighed with relief and he looked at me like I had just puked on him.
Famous For:
Bassist for Hole and The Smashing Pumpkins. Also done some solo stuff.
The Story:
I went to see Smashing Pumpkins when I was 17 or so in Cape Town. D'arcy had just been kicked out of the band for DRUGS and Hole bassist Melissa Auf Der Maur was filling in. At the very end of the show, she threw her plectrum into the crowd and my sister caught it. I was so pissed off with my sis, I pretty much expected her to give it to me, but she didn't. Anyways, I did touch it and my insides vibrated.
I spent the whole next morning phoning every hotel in Cape Town trying to track them down, and actually did find one that had a "James Iha" who had just checked out :/
Famous For:
Singing in the Nu-Metal band Dry Kill Logic.
The Story:
Who is Dry Kill Logic? Exactly. But at the time, I really liked them because I was 15 years old and NU-METAL WAS SO SICK MAN.
Anyways, I found their email address somewhere, and mailed them pretending I was a journalist in South Africa. I said I wanted to interview them for a magazine and the singer Cliff Rigano responded, saying "ok".
I sent him 10 questions I pulled out my ass and he answered them. I totally tricked a lead singer signed to Roadrunner Records, nice.
However, it didn't do much for me, they just weren't famous enough.
Famous For:
Singing in the Post-Hardcore band The Blood Brothers. Also involved with The Vogue, Neon Blonde and Jaguar Love.
The Story:
This is a big one, as The Blood Brothers are still one of my favourite artists ever. Their album Burn Piano Island, Burn (produced by Ross Robinson) had just come out, and I was hooked man, really hooked.
So I searched and searched the net for an email address, and I eventually somehow found their oooold official website which was obviously made before they were famous. And it had an email address.
I mailed and Johnny Whitney responded, and he was my favourite. I was all like "OMG YOU LYK FKN RULEZ MAN LULZ" and he was very decent about it. He was quite amazed that his music had reached me in South Africa, and started to ask a lot of political questions.
I hate politics. Somewhere along the line I think I told him that "yes, people were dying in the streets, but nowhere near I lived", and my general message probably came across really apathetic and borderline discriminatory. I wish I had of worded it better, but it was too late, he stopped responding to my mails. BUT I'LL FORGIVE YOU JOHNNY BOY.
Famous For:
Singing in the Post-Grunge band Seether.
The Story:
Before Seether there was Saron Gas. Important difference: Saron Gas was pretty much the biggest South African Rock Band around 2001 and they deserved it. Then they got signed to the American label Wind-Up Records in 2002, changed their name to Seether, and sounded like every other watered-down Wind-Up band that exists.
Shaun did fuck Amy Lee from Evanescene though, so his organs must've been going ape-shit.
Anyways, I went to one of their shows when they were still South African and playing at Mercury Live in frontof a small(ish) crowd. People were stage diving, so I got up on stage, moshed around with them a bit and then jumped into a sea of hands. It was awesome.
After the show I ran back stage like a good little groupie and asked Shaun Morgan (who was known as Shaun Welgemoed at the time) to sign my album cover. He did so, and a drop of sweat landed on his freshly marked signature. "Sorry" he apologised.
He had no idea that I was planning to eat the entire cover when I got home.
Famous For:
Picking up girls and teaching people how to do the same.
The Story:
I know you don't know who he is, but when I met him, I knew of him well. He is pretty much the guru of picking up chicks, arguably the original Pick Up Artist. Read Neil Strauss' The Game, because it is an excellent book and introduced me to Ross' work. It even talks about how the guy ran around like a dog after Carmen Electra trying to sniff her ass. She's pretty famous.
ANYWAYS, I won a free seat at one of his seminars over Twitter, worth $1500 so I was stoked. It was 3 days worth of Nero-linguistic Programming and Hypnotism, the whole thing was kinda weird. I got to shake his hand ("Your hand is sweaty! Everyone wipe your hands BEFORE you touch me" he said to me) and take the above photo.
Whilst I did get celeb-shock and blurted out my words like I had some kind of speech disorder, it still wasn't enough to really power-up my chalk rib. This is because PUA is lame and now I pick up chicks using drugs and money.
Famous For:
Pretending to beat people up.
The Story:
Oh yeah! Seven-Time World Wrestling Entertainment Champion! Can you feel that shit? CAN YOU!?!? I have his signature bitches! Read it and weep He signed my fucking January issue of the official WWF magazine when I was 8 years old. So what you gonna do now, huh?
Yeah, then you get older, and you don't care anymore. But like or not, Bret Hart has that magical thing called "Fame", and I have his signature. It's in my January issue of the official WWF magazine. And that is why whenever things are going my way, I like to take a moment, pause and say "Thank You Bret. Thank You."
Famous For:
"Singing" for The Streets.
The Story:
Mike Skinner is well famous, proper like. I am a big fan, I even have his lunchbox and trading cards. So when I looked in the newspaper and realized he was playing a show just down my road at the Roundhouse, I was all like "should we go?" and my housemate was all like "yeah, let's go" and so we went.
The show was mind-blowing, and using our "pretend it's all just meat™" method, we pushed our way to the front.
At the very end of the show, Mike jumped into the crowd. Everyone surged towards him, and I could see his arm in range. I lunged as hard as I could, and my floating rib sparked and rattled as my hand gripped onto his wrist. I could feel his fame getting sucked into my very being, and he noticed it too. He yanked his wrist from my dirty fingers and was gone, carried away by the waves of people. But I have a part of him now. Oh yes, Mike. I have a part of you now.
Famous For:
Singing for The Deftones.
The Story:
Deftones are one of those bands that have never sucked. As the people's taste changes, this band effortlessly slides into new sounds and everyone loves them. All the while their competition melts away into has-beens and what-nots.
In 2009 I went to their show at the HMV forum. The show was wicked, I was at the front, and I never wanted it to end. Not surprisingly, it did end, but just before they walked off stage Chino started to slap the hands of the front row audience. I stuck my hand out as far as I could, and willed with all my might "you will touch this hand". And he did.
This is bigger than it sounds, as this is the only example where someone in the "famous" region has touched me on their own accord. It was a brief slap, but I haven't washed my hand since and my deformed insides remember this as the closest it has come to awakening.
As you can see I'm not doing to well. You just read an entire blog about a guy who has actually never met anyone famous in his whole life. How does that make you feel?
At least now you know the truth of why I want to meet Lily Allen. You can stop asking. It's not because I like her or that I even know who she is. It's just that she is famous, and once I get my photograph, my mutated guts will surely have enough power to summon a demon or make money or something. I mean, surely, right? Right?? SURELY.
Eventually I am going to try and make out with Paul McCartney regardless of what happens.
Thanks for reading my blog,
Love Jared
OUTTAKES
This one literally just happened. Buck Angel is pretty much the most famous guy in the world who has a vagina. I tweeted him with "I watched some of your porn and I threw up a little in my mouth. Keep up the good work." and he responded with "HAA!! Awesome glad I could help! WOOF".
Not totally famous, but the dude has a vagina, c'mon.
David Firth is the "Salad Fingers" guy, but he does loads of other and better stuff too. He is making some kind of full-length feature, and he blogs about it here. I commented and asked a bunch of questions and he answered. Yay, I am a massive fan.
If you know Reggae, you know this guy. When I was 11 years old or so, I did not know Reggae. I was on a plane to go somewhere, and this massive rasta group was there. They all looked stoned AND I BET THEY WERE. When the air hostess asked the one guy for an autograph, I knew something was up.
I turned around and said to the guy "Are you in a band?" and he said "That's what they tell me mon". Only 5 years later did I realize how cool Burning Spear was, but by that time it was too late, the organs had missed it.
Originally Written: 17/12/09
It all began, as things do, in my head. It was a slow click, and it didn’t make sense. Why was it that some of my friends were hell-bent on arguing that there was a tooth-fairy that snuck into their rooms, replacing the useless teeth with small change like some kind of currency? This bullshit was beyond me. For everyone knew it was a tooth-mouse, right?
Because that made sense, and in hind-sight, was definitely more logical than a fairy. I had seen mice, I knew what they were made of. Even in recent years I can testify that a mouse is more than capable of entering under the door and scratching under my bed, and I have never seen a fairy do this. So the concept of a friendly mouse with an excess of human money wasn’t that weird for a seven year old kid. But a fairy? That was a whole new can of worms. If one was to believe in fairies, well then you might as well believe in gnomes and goblins, dragons and the Tokoloshe. Mice exist, I swear to god, I have seen them.
Now, I think I would’ve accepted this if girls believed in the fairy theory, while guys believed in the mouse. The fairy is not only a more feminine mythical creature, but girls obviously had no idea what they were talking about. They had cooties after all, and who knows what the fuck else. But why would my seemingly intelligent guy friends believe in such an atrocity? I just had to ask.
“Mom?” I approached the subject carefully on a day I will never forget. “Is the tooth-mouse really real?” Her face changed, it was slightly amused as if she knew this day would come. Maybe even proud that her son was growing up. She pulled me into the study to make sure my little sister didn’t hear her.
“No, he isn’t, Jared.”
Ok, that I could handle.
“And the Easter Bunny?”
“No Jared”
Ouch. Ok, ok. Maybe all isn’t lost though.
“And Father Christmas??”
“No.”
It swelled up inside me. It couldn’t be. I had put so much faith into this man. The man that in many ways had over-shadowed Jesus as the true giver, the hero celebrity of Christmas.
“No!” I eventually cried “No! He is real! I know it!”
“Ok, yes Jared, you’re right, he is real.” She turned away.
That didn’t sit right with me. The dream was over, there was no magical fat man who would climb down my chimney (a chimney which didn’t even exist). My fucking dad was eating the cookies, which was almost more unfair than anything else. I had been tricked by my own parents. I was a sucker, a pre-teen, ignorant sucker. How had I been such a fool?
You better watch out, you better not cry,
You better not pout, I'm tellin' you why,
Santa Claus is coming to town.
He's making a list, he's checking it twice,
He's gonna find out who's naughty and nice,
Santa Claus is coming to town.
It’s amazing that any of us could sleep at night. It was a game our parents loved to play, a sadistic laugh every time they used the Christmas excuse to keep us in check. "Don't do that Jared, Santa is watching" which is a scarier thing to hear than "Satan is watching" at that age.
But no, not me, no more, I was in the know.
Of course, the next Christmas was even better. No longer was I paranoid that the quality of my presents was weighed by an old man watching my good and bad deeds. I wanted what I wanted, and it was my parents who got it for me, or failed. Oh the joy! The realization! The freedom! And it finally made sense why this powerful man skipped those in poverty every year.
St. Nicholas was real though, we all know that. A giver, the true Santa who used to give to the poor and earned the nickname Nicholas the Wonderworker. He was the original model of Santa, the reason why we thought the latest remote-control car or Barbie’s play-house came from The North Pole. And yet, his story is criminally overlooked, and I want to pay homage to him here.
Many legends have developed surrounding the saint. Most people know that he used to put coins in people's shoes when they left them out of their houses. But did you know that he once resurrected 3 children after they were slaughtered by an evil Butcher and sold for meat? I mean, that's got to be true. Then again, if I was cut into little bits, I'd rather stay dead, but each to their own. He also once threw money in a poor man's window so he could afford to get his daughters to marry people and get out of his house. So yeah, he was obviously really rich, but a kind rich man is better than a kind poor man, trust me.
St. Nicolas day generally falls on the 6th of December. Nobody knows this, and yet we still celebrate a model of his actions 19 days later. Plus, St. Nick didn’t have a factory of toys. And whoever came up with the fucking elves idea (just a glorified version of child-labour) is beyond me. Who named the reindeer? And how much time did we waste learning all these stupid facts?
Fun and games aside, there is a real reason why we celebrate Christmas, one that pre-dates any Santa-myth. The most famous person that ever existed: Jesus Christ himself.
Now I must prewarn, I have many Christian friends. And I am all for that, find your own way to worship God (or whatever you want) I think it is important. But if you get a little squeamish when your views are challenged, I mean no harm, please stop reading.
I believe in Jesus, I do. I think a story of that magnitude had to start somewhere. I used to wear a cross everyday as a respect to that, an icon that changed history to such a degree that wars have been fought in his “honour”. And on the 25th of December, 3 wise men followed a bright star and found the miracle baby, the savior, Jesus Christ.
Except this didn’t happen quite like we have been told. I’m sorry, but the proof is under your nose, if you choose to look. The Bible itself never even mentions the 25th of December, in fact it has been said that Jesus was born during Summer as it would be unusual for shepherds to be “abiding in the field” during December when fields were unproductive. Scholars generally agree it would be more likely that Jesus was born in September. So much for those naivety plays you did in Junior School - there is no mention of a donkey, a stable or even the innkeeper ANYWHERE in the Bible.
So where did this come about? Why the hell are we giving presents to each other; parents eating cookies and scaring naughty kids; extra long church sermons remembering the birth of the saviour etc? All without any historically accurate literature (including the Bible) relating the significance of this day to... well... anything?
Thanks to the blasphemous Da Vinci Code and Zeitgeist, the facts have been quite wide-spread. Almost every tradition in the Christian religion was stolen from Pagan cultures. Mithras, Osiris, Adonis, and Dionysus were all "born" on the 25th. All of this is crap, however, because what we are really celebrating here is the day that the Sun reverses its southward retreat, which was significant to those peeps living in BC who loved The Sun so much that we can actually trace almost every form of organized worship to the fiery ball in the sky. And I am all for that, I fucking love The Sun.
So there you have it. We are still just celebrating something that was put in place by people who thought the earth was flat and that we were the center of the universe. Progression my ass, you guys are still a bunch of monkeys. Not me tho, I'm kind of like a rubix cube.
Anyways, regardless of The Sun, Jesus or Santa: Christmas is a joyous day. I love it. The vibe is unmistakable, old people indulge in extra wine, the food is superior, there is unity. It’s the day of giving and receiving, about feeling good, about making others feel good. And even the most heathenistic of us all can see the positivety in that. But whether you use this day to eat too much, to connect to your Lord, to love your family, or to get stuff... remember that it's all a crock of shit and you are an idiot.
Have a Merry Christmas.
