Presently speeding through Morrissey's Autobiography. He is a dreary pompous ass so I can relate to him a lot. Two-thirds of the way through and I finally got my first laugh, with his recollection of Joan Sims being recruited for his Ouija Board video clip:
'Do you know Nicholas Parsons?' asks Joan, possibly tipsy. 'He is a c**t,' she says, and that's that.
Happy slapped by a jellyfish - Karl pilkington
S'ok
Quote: lofthouse @ 15th November 2013, 6:39 PM GMTHappy slapped by a jellyfish - Karl pilkington
S'ok
The Idiot Abroad series was a tedious celebration of being a boring, narrow-minded, pig-ignorant, ethnocentric f**kwit. Does he write any better than he appears on telly? If I were presented with a book by him, I would likely bin it. Like anything by Russell Brand or anything related to self-help or Chicken Soup for Marketing the Sun Tzu Soul. Wouldn't even donate them to the jail library.
Yep it's pretty much him wining about how shit everything is
I like it though
It's just I've heard most of the anecdotes already on the Ricky Gervais Show
Quote: Kenneth @ 15th November 2013, 4:47 PM GMTPresently speeding through Morrissey's Autobiography. He is a dreary pompous ass so I can relate to him a lot. Two-thirds of the way through and I finally got my first laugh, with his recollection of Joan Sims being recruited for his Ouija Board video clip:
'Do you know Nicholas Parsons?' asks Joan, possibly tipsy. 'He is a c**t,' she says, and that's that.
Does he mention the ghost child on the moors?
Stand and Deliver!
A history of highway robbery
Quote: lofthouse @ 16th November 2013, 1:20 PM GMTDoes he mention the ghost child on the moors?
Yes, the fatal car accident that never was. That got a mention over several pages. In a motor with Charles Hawtrey and David Bowie (or some other guys), cruising through Saddleworth Moor, they crash into a nude boy (wearing an open anorak) and drive onward to report the accident, only to be informed they had hit a ghost.
This is the difference between ereaders and printed books. If I had the printed book, I'd find the page and check the names of the guys in the car. But with the ebook, it feels like more of an effort to find the guys were Tim Broad, James O'Brien and I don't give a toss.
Just read Doctor Who - Celebrating 50 Years - A History by Alan Kistler. A quick and great read. Only two typographical errors went unfixed. A small smattering of new trivia. Thoroughly enjoyable until the end, where the author arse-kisses Moffat and Matt Smith. Let's be honest - transforming the Doctor into a loony cosmic soap star required restraint, credible gravitas and extreme moderation - something Moffat and Smith were incapable of. Sylvester McCoy's gushing praise of Matt Smith also hard to stomach.
Still - highly recommended. Infinitely better than the BBC's childishly trying-to-be-cool Who-ology - the Official Miscellany, which seems to be targeted at retarded spaniels.
And miles ahead of the shit that some poor bastards are trying to flog on Smashwords, such as various volumes of Tardis Eruditorum and some other shite I deleted after suffering through a few pages.
Asterix and the Picts - the new, new Asterix, without Uderzo. Definitely not as bad as I'd feared. The cover is rubbish, the Roman census taker is pointless, and the Loch Ness Monster is the opposite of subtle. And it's nowhere near as good as a Goscinny story. But it wasn't too dreadful. Needed more Dogmatix (he could have played with the Scottie dog) and more clever jokes. Artwork pretty good, apart from Nessie being Fred Flintstone's Dino, and a couple of weird-looking images of Mrs Geriatrix.
Looking forward to getting it.
Bill Bryson - One Summer. America 1927.
Quote: zooo @ 25th November 2013, 5:17 PM GMTLooking forward to getting it.
Does that chat up line ever work?
Oh God, I thought that had been killed off. 
Nope
Sootyj pays me to do it in his absence
Just made £5 there
Go on
Say something else that can be misconstrood (spl?!!)
Go on!
I stopped doing it.
Lofty does it for me, even though I don't want him to.
He's taken advantage of me for his own pleasure.