Sex, lies and eBay hate
I recently bought something on eBay. Don't ask me what. It doesn't matter.
Suffice to say it doesn't have any working orifices, nor does it call me daddy or scream when it senses my presence.
OK, alright, it was a camera. OK? Now you know, it was just a camera.
But it only takes pictures of crying children.
I was going to leave negative feedback but I suddenly realised I didn't feel negative; it's a really good camera. Sure, it's got it's faults like the whole only photographing sobbing kids thing but well, it's got 12 million mega pixles .
It feels really good in my hand. Really good.
Why People Hate Blogs
Since I started writing this blog and telling people about it I have encountered a lot of negativity toward blogging.
I've been trying to understand it and I think I have the answer (I promise didn't make this up)...
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Zit On My Bald Spot
| Written by F. Lawrence Caslin | |
| Wednesday, 14 May 2008 | |
  Yeah, you read it right. I got a zit on my bald spot.It just showed up one day. Out of nowhere.
The one place I don't exfoliate. Guess who found it? |
|
| Read more... |
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
...Read more? Read more? Are you f*%£ing joking? I'd be more inclined to click the link if it said 'kill yourself'. That would at least save me from sharing a planet with him. In case you're interested (punch yourself), his mum found it. Not surprising as he probably still lives with her.
This type of thing is why so many people think blogging is for ego-centric idiots who can't make a distinction between the minutia of their lives and having something interesting to say. He found a spot so he thought he'd tell the world. I mean come on, really, you wouldn't even mention it to your deaf cat. And if you did your feline friend would have every reason to wait till you were asleep and defecate in your mouth.
Love it or Hate it
They're right aren’t they, those Marmite ads?
People really do love it or hate it. Usually when products make a claim it's a little spurious. Not so with this one, some people really, really love it.
I've seen people around the dark, best avoided back streets of Kings Cross, in London. Young men with old men’s eyes and hollow cheeks, talking to better-fed guys in conspicuously thick gold chains and leather jackets. “Go on mate,” Pleads the withered face “I just need one lick. One lick mate. Go on mate, I brought my own spoon. "
Conversely, when people don’t like it, they really, really don't. I have offered good friends of mine a slice of toast and Marmite and I'm sure I've said "Do you want some Marmite toast?"
From the look of disgust on their face all they’ve heard is, "Would you like me to shoot your Grandmother and defecate into the wound?"
So obviously now I have to consider the moral implications of what I've written.
I'm talking about the product, not the wholly distasteful Grandmother comment. You see I'm not just mentioning a condiment; I'm advertising (ish) a product and putting money into some corporation’s pocket. So I should at least know whose pocket I'm lining shouldn't I? But how do you tell? They're all constantly merging, like some kind of enormous ethereal corporate shag-fest, slowly conglomerating into one huge entity. The moment they all finally all come together, I'm sure black clouds will gather in an already ashen sky, thunder will crash and the one true power will reveal itself to us, its willing slaves. We’ll stand on the filthy streets, crane our bent and broken necks to look up, slack-jawed and see, one thousand feet tall, clad from head to tail in impregnable black armour, the fattest, widest grinning Cheshire Cat you have ever seen. The ultimate fat cat.
Probably.