PORTAL IN THE SKIES OF NORWAY

35 Minutes Ago exclusive! (Except not really.)

What the two websites that are in English are referring to as a "warp portal" seen in Norways sky, you may safely refer to as a "photoshop disaster". What appears to be either an omen of the end of the world or a not particularly good set of hoax photos has graced us via Norway (by the efforts of what I am informed is Norway's number one tabloid magazine. Yes, the kind of magazine that tells you about Robert Pattinson's affinity for humping pillows.) Apparently God has just gotten his copy of Photoshop CS3 and is gratuitously overusing the twirl tool. Come on, God, do a few tutorials before you put your finished work out there for the Norse to see. They have standards, too.

Translation for those who believe the world will end in 2012: This is the beginning of the end, better just end it for yourself now to avoid the last minute rush. Cheers.

A BOOK REVIEW, 35 MINUTES AGO

I like Watchmen. I like philosophy. In theory, I like Watchmen and philosophy together. However, the book "Watchmen and Philosophy", shits me unbelievably. Why? Because it is a series of wanky short essays by wanky short American males who are apparently threatened by homosexuals, logical thought and not relying on the hivemind. Thank you, person who is writing chapter five, for referring to chapter three, which I did, in fact, read on the way to your chapter. You don't need to say "for more information on this concept, read chapter three!" I did read chapter three. You're still full of shit. You are repeating the same things in chapter three. Your discussion of feminism didn't make me feel like having a uterus was a good thing, and more like you have not seen a woman, ever, who was not separated from you by at least one glass wall.

I read almost anything, but this book was so dull that I was tempted to skip the chapters that did not make reference to Alan Moore's beard (in which he stores all of his good ideas) or how strange Matthew Goode looks as a blonde.

2/5 35 MINUTES = 14 minutes

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TECHNOLOGY HAS RUINED ME

Apart from making us progressively more antisocial and less capable of dealing with everyday frustrations (my tea is several degrees too cold? shitfit time at starbucks) we are now turning to believe that technology, while by definition benign and incapable of actively trying to screw with us (unless you're talking robots, in which case they are obviously going to turn against you).

Case in point: iPod. Relatively simple device for playing music (unless you are one of those people who use electronic items for more than one purpose, in which case yours may be able to use the internet, give you maps, take photos and grief counsel you when all your friends have left you) which is evidently just trying to make me angry.

Apart from making songs that play perfectly well on the computer into angry electronic soundtracks to my rage, it has also taken it upon itself to censor my music choices. I am not sure why, but it thinks that several songs I listen to are just too much for me to listen to for more than three to four seconds. That is how intense they are.

Thanks a lot, iPod. In relation, said songs have my highest playcount on the computer - my iPod is trying to shit me, so I "get back at it" by favouring the computer in playing the songs it doesn't want me to hear. How do you like that, Steve Jobs?

NOT FROM ROUND 'ERE

Planes are wonderful, and so are the people they introduce you to. From the screaming shitspawn in the back shouting "WITCHCRAFT" whenever we hit turbulence. (Pro tip: flying through a storm, there is lots of turbulence.)

Rolling your own cigarettes in a food court: classy. Especially when they don't look like they're full of tobacco.

To the strange man repeatedly telling his friend about "red vagine": whatever has brought you to your issues with red vagine, I hope you solve them.

THE SNUGGIE: A CAPSLOCK REVIEW

Yes, Snuggies are "so two months ago" or whatever. But the fact of the matter is, I have one now. So this puts them back on my radar in a big way. Here's a review!

My Snuggie, in the one-size-fits-all gargantuan dimensions made to fit even the meatiest American, is pretty cool. Despite the fact the colours look a bit suspicious (mine is Cult Member Blue) you can apparently wear them out without people fleeing from you, or fleeing then returning with flaming torches and pitchforks. Ms Ward tested this notion, skating around an ice rink wearing said Snuggie. Whatever the fuck the people there were on, I do not know, because they acted like it was perfectly normal. They also acted like wearing a leotard on the ice was perfectly normal, so quite clearly they have different standards than regular folk.

They are in fact rather warm and comfortable. They are also almost as frustrating to use as a blanket. It also smells a bit funny. I'm not going to speculate on what it smells like or I may never touch it again.

Mine did not come with the disembodied face in the chest, but hey, I'll get the upgrade next time?

BINEY: STILL DEAD

Emotional involvement in entertainment mediums can bring the funniez or the sadz, often in equal measure. Take Dexter for example (first episode of season four can apparently be seen online for totally illegal means, you piratey bastards).

Apart from being really involved in the main character (I will be depressed if Dexter ever gets caught), I have taken to opining on all the others. I'm sure Dexter misses Biney, though probably not just because he was hot and kind of creepy at the same time. I wish Rita would go away. Deb is radicool. Astor and Cody were apparently exposed to mutant growth hormone during the break that has taken them from "cute TV kids" to "TV kids strangely like real kids and thusly un-cute".

John Lithgow, who I last saw in Third Rock From The Sun, hopped into a girl's bathtub naked and killed her with a straight razor. Flipped my shit, man. John Lithgow changed from a socially inept alien to a... well, he might still be, I don't know.