Finally The Clown Has A Good Idea.

A bus stop poster near my house proclaims, 'eat like a king, not a clown,' and if you ask me, no marketing declaration since
'they're waffly versatile' has been more appropriate. Seriously, you could grill them, bake them, fry them AND eat them.

Anyway, Burger King. They rule the fast food world with their King Fries and their massive flame grilled burgers, and now they know how to do a PR campaign too, unlike McDonalds. Apparently, McDonalds put the word out that anyone who wrote a rap about a Big Mac would get a prize or something. And the amount of urban poems submitted? Zero. Paying Pharrell Williams a few million dollars to write you a jingle is one thing, but trying to be all street by getting the kids to rap about your food is...Well, you can fill in the blank.

Burger King's PR company ought to pat themselves on the back for this poster, because despite their flame grilled flavour being basically painted onto their, ahem, beef patties, they taste deee-licious and I want one now. I couldn't care less what they're made of. I'd take an XL Bacon Double Cheeseburger over a Quarter Pounder any day, and you should too, even if you're a vegetarian. Sadly though, Burger King's epicurean dominance doesn't begin until exactly 10.30am Monday to Saturday and 11am on Sunday.

That's because McDonalds stop serving breakfast then. If I was on death row for crimes against, I don't know, fashion or something (let's not get too morose), my last meal request would, I kid you not, be a Double Sausage & Egg McMuffin. Really. I don't think there's a better realised use of offal and grease anywhere in the world.

I've often wondered why McDonalds insist on abandoning their culinary pièce de résistance, as the Japanese say, every morning in favour of food that can only be described as utter filth. I'm not loving it.

So when I read that McDonalds are thinking about serving breakfast all day I nearly McSoiled myself. Goodbye toes.

Questions

I have questions:

Back in 1990, Snap had the power. What did they do with it?

2Unlimited knew no limits, so how come their pop career was so limited?

How come all herbal tea tastes bitter and fruitless, despite smelling delicious and exactly like the fruit it purports to contain?

What did she look like with a chimney on her?

Why aren't Olympic champions called Lords of the Rings?

How come not one of the scenarios in Alanis Morrissete's song are remotely ironic?

Why is the carrot considered the smartest of all the vegetables?

What does 'tomorrow never knows what it doesn't know too soon' mean?

How come everyone who crosses their arms into an X shape on X Factor is certain to be rubbish?

Wouldn't all things be cheap at half the price, assuming the initial price is reasonable?

How come I've never found 50 Cent in any club?

Why is Kerry Katona on the front cover of every issue of OK! Magazine?

Why is Kerry Katona famous, again?

How come Jay Kay forgot he was a hippy as soon as he could afford his first Ferrari?

How come there's no smart thinking inside the box?

Think on.

Gonna Cry Now

This story is old now, but I thought I'd spread the joy here because I was happy when I read it. If you can't be bothered with it, basically the story goes that one of the statues commissioned for Rocky III (three statues were made) has been placed back where it belongs, on top of the steps which lead to the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Some of the Philly art stiffs, though, have branded it a mere movie prop, arguing it doesn't belong among proper art.

That's all well and good, but I bet they'd consider it art if it depicted a fat woman with a tail and a horse's head and was sculpted out of fossilised cat cack. Plus, I'd guess the statue already has, and will continue to, bring more visitors to the museum than any of the real art inside.

So Fifi and Trixibelle are choking on their organic berets now, but it's nothing that chopping a cow in half won't solve. If I was a thoughtful writer I'd say something terribly cheesy about another triumph for the underdog, but I'm just not that good.

Beard Science Trilogy Pt.3

About a week ago I realised that there were two ridiculous things happening in my life, both of which I should be embarrassed about. Firstly, I was growing a beard and secondly, I was writing about it in the public domain. This was indicative of a fundamental, albeit short-term boredom problem.

I was at work the other day, bored an scratching my face, when it dawned on me that not only was I indulging in a sport both painful and ugly, but I was gleefully documenting it as though it was in some way entertaining to anyone. Plus, as well as actively promoting my strawberry blonde heritage to everyone, it led me to a new and entirely unwanted milestone; grey.

Indeed, on the right side of my chin, just below my mouth, was confirmation of my ever-relinquishing youth. My wife spotted it first, and for days I tried to convince her it was an 'albino hair' until I spotted another, then another, then another. Added to black, brown, ginger and blond, grey was just too much - the beard had to go.

So it did. I took some photos on my phone, but the grainy quality and toplessness made them look a bit, well, creepy, so I deleted them. I couldn't, however, resist doing this, which I've posted as a kind of punishment to myself for being so moronic as to bother writing about having some facial hair for a couple of weeks. Is there nothing more interesting or noteworthy in my life? The photo's funny though, what?

This episode, as well as a conversation with my homie D Dawg in McDonalds, has prompted me to reconsider my presence on the blogsphere (I think that's what proper internet people call it) so I'm thinking I might shift my page elsewhere and go underground. Let's be honest, unless I'm living in the celebrity hyperreality nobody cares what I do or what I think. Maybe I'll apply for Big Brother next year.

You'll find a picture of me in all my bearded splendor here if you want. Initially I posted the picture on this page, but it was a bit weird seeing myself so I took it off. And so it ends.

Beard Science Trilogy Pt.2

You know, you think of something ridiculous to blog about and it seems like a great and novel idea until you realise it'll be really boring. Growing a beard is one such thing.

It's a bit longer, obviously, but at the moment I look like I've been hit with an uglier stick than normal. Itchiness is minimal thus far, although I'm still in the shadow zone in which you can see my beard but the hairs haven't grown enough to start doubling back into my face like ginger torpedos.

I won't put the pictures up yet because they're embarrassingly similar and make me feel like less of a man, but you'll see them all in good time. Don't cry.

Actually, to be honest I'm thinking you should just leave and go here instead. At least he's got something to say.

Bye for now.

Beard Science Trilogy Pt.1

Over the years man has undertaken some seemingly insurmountable challenges. A few years ago someone wearing a monocle probably looked to the sky one evening and said to his associate at the men's club, "you know old chap, I think one day our boys will fly to that glorious bright crated globe up there in some sort of flying vessel and land on it."

Of course, his gentlemanly acquaintance, Cyril, will have spluttered out his brandy in uncontrollable horror, aghast at such a proclamation of unattainable fantasy, before branding his former friend a witch and sentencing him to forty lashes. But, as we now know, Cynical Cyril would have been proved very wrong.

Similarly, ten million years ago when God's human prototypes, monkeys, ruled the Earth (obviously), if one of them had shrilled to the other, "hey, you mark my words, in a few million years we'll be able to talk quietly and walk upright," he would have been beaten to death with his banana.

Yet here I am. Plus, if I get 999 of my friends together we'll eventually be able to write some Shakespeare. But those things are nothing compared to a man's greatest test, a test I'm about to undertake; growing a beard.

I've tried to grow a beard a few times before, and each time I've failed before I hit the two week mark due to uncontrollable itching and the recurring realisation that someone in my family was ginger. I've got nothing against strawberry blonde at all, but I fail to understand where this ginger facial growth, in stark contrast to my hair, comes from.

Regardless, this time I'm determined. I was at my friend's baby dedication soiree last week when the topic of conversation turned to beards and my friend, Heidi, jokingly suggested I should grow one. My curiosity coupled with an interest in undertaking an extreme challenge prompted me to take up the bushy gauntlet.

Then a few days ago it dawned on me that I didn't have to do it alone, so I decided to share my experience with the world by keeping a public journal of life with a beard. I'm calling it my Brilliantly Excellent Accessible Regular Diary, or BEARD. So keep checking for updates over the next six weeks or so, because after that I'll probably get rid of it to avoid upsetting my wife too much, and to avoid having spare change thrown at me by passers by.

I had my final shave on Monday, a proper thorough one which harnessed the full power of my Mach3 Nitro, prior to letting the scratching commence. It'll be an arduous journey, but I'm chasing the dream and nobody said it would be easy. All the most noble and distinguished men in the world have beards, men like Abraham Lincoln, ZZ Top, and Giant Haystacks, so the way I see it at least if I'm judged by my cover I'll be considered wise and honourable.

Ok then, here I go. I'm away to buy some sandals and some light brown socks.

...For You And For Me And The Entire Human Race

How many games consoles does it take to heal the world?

According to this article the PS3 will not only be the premier games system to own come Christmas, it'll also be helping find a cure for Alzheimer's and other diseases thanks to its vast processing capabilities. Apparently, linking 10,000 PlayStation 3s together will create a computer capable of a thousand trillion calculations per second which can be used to research protein folding in the human body.

Proteins in the body that don't fold correctly are understood to cause diseases including Alzheimer's, Parkinson's and various cancers, although it is not known how or why this process occurs. Unfortunately, the average PC, according to the BBC, would take 10,000 days to simulate just one fold, a fold which would take ten millionths of a second in the body. Intel ought to be ashamed of themselves.

At present the solution is to link thousands of computers together, harnessing their spare processing ability so that each can undertake a fraction of the calculations needed to simulate a fold, before pulling the data together via the magic of the interweb. Scientists can then view multiple simulations relatively quickly to ultimately find cures for the diseases.

Cynical marketing stunt based on a technological coincidence, or genuinely benevolent scientific pioneering on the part of Sony, then? Hmm. Nonetheless, Sony claim to be working on a piece of protein folding software that will run on the PS3 when it's launched later this year. Furthermore, the PS3's graphics chip, 'designed for advanced gaming', will eventually support a graphical interface that will allow scientists to 'view the protein from different angles as it folds in real time.'

Er, real time? Please tell me if I'm being stupid here, but did I not just read that a fold takes place in ten millionths of a second? I hope the interface has a slow motion function. In any case, I'm sure a PC graphics card will come out soon which will be able to draw the protein a nano-fraction smoother, making the PS3's life-saving capabilities a bit rubbish and pointless anyway. In the meantime, though, PS3 owners have a reason to feel good about themselves while they're swearing through their headsets at hapless German adolescents for pummeling them 4-0 with FC Weder Lufthausen on Pro Evo Online.

It might be overpriced and underpowered, but the PS3 could save your child's life one day, so be careful what you say about it, ok. By the way, I heard Nintendo were approached about using Wii, but after linking 25,000 of them together the resultant supercomputer, codenamed NintenCure, still couldn't work out how to stop a nose bleed. They had a lot of fun trying though, much more than they'd had with the PS3, and it was really simple to operate too.


Watch out for the Apple version, iProtein Pro, which will make the proteins dance as well as fold, all right out of the box.