The Gospel According To Chris Moyles
This week I bought my first autobiography! It was titled ‘The Gospel According to Chris Moyles’. Superb read to be fair.
Chris Moyles happens to be the Uk’s most popular breakfast radio show presenter and is a true legend. Him and his team have escalated Radio 1’s listening figures enormously and as a result, they’ve won a string of awards. Chris has just released his autobiography, which will no doubt sell like hotcakes. He’s not the biggest star in the world like your Wayne Rooney’s or your David Beckham’s but he’s very well known anyway.
So I’m perusing Amazon Uk for biographies when I stumble across a whole host of them belonging to no name British so called talent. There was a biography from Chantelle Houghton – the dumb winner of Uk Celebrity Big Brother! The ditzy cow is only in her 20’s and yet she’s got a book out detailing her ‘life’?! What life? 20yrs of it? Are you taking the pies woman?!
A biography is meant to catalogue one’s life’s achievements for crying out loud, a written account of your life if you will. As I looked around it got worse, and to cut a long story short I saw many biographies from totally non-celeb tv personalities which infuriated me somewhat rotten. Of course at the end of the day its money making scheme so they can make the most of their 15mins of fame before they become non famous. Granted tubby Chris Moyles is in his 30’s but he isn’t a non celeb is he? He’s the presenter of the biggest radio station in the Uk which has constantly seen its viewing figures rise and rise through the years, and shows no sign of stopping. He’s achieved a lot in his life and his book, while being funny has a lot of sad elements to it too.
What really annoyed me was seeing countless England footballers having their biogs up there. There’s Rio, Rooney, Frank Lampard (who couldn’t hit a barn door), and Steven Gerrard to name just a few. Is this what the overpaid muppets were doing during Germany 2006? While the entire nation back home is spending bucket loads to celebrate their national team, the football stars are busy sitting in their hotels slaving away on their laptops writing books? Pathetic if you ask me. They’re footballers, not bloody book authors and certainly not bloody entertainers. Overpaid? Too sodding right.
While Taz’s ISP is down, she can’t reply to this, let alone read it! So let me state that today she admitted to actually enjoying loving listening to the new Paris Hilton tune! (prefer her videos to be honest) Oh how I’ll mock you for weeks upon end now woman! I thought I was bad being a fan of Phil Collins…
Last night I underwent what can only be described as a stressful 2hrs. I decided to run a Chkdsk (disk scan) on my PC’s hard disk, something I’d not done in a while. Now things were going well, until Chkdsk reported a colossal problem on the partition that Windows XP itself resides on. Without any intervention, the bugger decided to ‘fix’ the problem itself resulting in my entire windows partition rendered almost completely unusable. Sometimes I wish I actually used ghost to backup my data but I prefer to install stuff the manual way.
I ended up doing one of the fastest XP reinstalls I’ve ever done, and now have most of my apps restored, as well as my hardware devices up and running too. I’m quite lucky I didn’t actually lose any critical data because I keep them on a separate partition. It’s quite disconcerting to see such an important utility like Chkdsk do its scan, with the user not knowing weather his/her system will be usable after it’s finished it’s dirty work. Anyway, my PC is back up and running now. I’ve just got minor applications to install over the next few days.
I tell you, just a few hours without Internet access was quite a frightening prospect for me. Not having access to my email, this blog, MSN, IRC, online banking, online billing as well as the various forums I read on a daily basis left me very empty and somewhat lost. Moral of this story? Back up yer sodding data and avoid blonde bimbo’s!
So, David Blaine tried to get attention on himself again by living in a fishtank for 7 days and then holding his breath while escaping from chains in an attempt to break the world record, which stands at 8mins 58seconds. Blaine managed 7mins and 8seconds before being pulled out of his sphere. As most New Yorkers admire the guy, most Londoners see him as an attention seeker so most are unhappy that he actually survived.
Don’t get me wrong here, he’s trying to take the human body to it’s utmost limits, but there are better ways o great illusionist chap! Take the bloody London Underground during the rush hour for a month, or try and time your journey so you can get home on time by London’s Bus network! Had he done his ‘feat’ in London, we’d have pelted him with paintball ammo, golfballs and other rather nasty stuff which makes us Brits famed for our black humour. Return to the Uk for your next stunt Blaine, even better - try doing the same trick under the River Thames, hey we may not be able to see you under that dirty water but remember - We Love You!
It’s been a lovely week over here in London. The weather has been sizzling hot, to the point where air conditioning units stress out and die, office computers overheat and seize up, and lastly poor me roasts to death because I work on the top floor of a huge glass covered office…with a tin roof. Drawbacks? The glass and the roof trap heat 
Today (saturday), I bounced off to work wearing little but a shirt (lovely black one if you want to know), which was my first mistake. The British weather is a complete pain in the you know what, and while it was warm and sunny during the course of the day, I shall quote Max Payne and say that on the way home "The rain was comin’ down like all the angels in heaven decided to take a piss at the same time." By the time I got home I was drenched and in one hell of a foul mood!
So, my good mates on #id on Quakenet who I have known for like 7 long years have finally lost their nerves…they’ve all (almost) signed upto myspace.com !
For those who don’t know, it’s the worlds largest meeting place where you can put up a profile of yourself, and meet other people. A lot of small upcoming bands tend to use this as a place to promote their music, which does work very well. However it’s also become a place where most users profiles consist of nothing but multiple poor pop videos, massive amounts of animated images, and enough multi-colored text to give even the most robust web browser a headache. It’s also a place where fit girls can flaunt themselves and er yes that bit is rather nice 
So, they’ve become myspace sprongs but I shall not give in! Now I face a dilemma, do I link their names below with their myspace profiles or not? Anyways, they shall be named and shamed!
Pakman from Surly Wombat! Kitteh from Deconstruct.me.uk SHP from Cyberpunk Cafe Phil from the now deceased Halfmad.com MisterDead from #id - Only signed up to drool at the fit girls! Soth from #id - As above!
I’ve been busy lately but have had a raft of idea’s in hand for this blog to be implemented soon. Anyway I’ve got to mention a story which was first reported at the beginning of March 06 which had a lot of people in hysterics.
Now we all know how much garbage our prime minister Tony Blair speaks, and how his ‘Tough on Crime/Preachers etc’ policies will make the Uk safer. Basically everything he says never happens so half the sodding country ignores him anyway. Without going into this deeply, it’s emerged that race hate preachers have returned to the Uk to reap the rewards of our benefits system, while at the same time sprouting hate towards the very country they live in. Apparently London is "the organ of the devil", yet most of them live here. So while this is happening our coppers have lifted three Golliwogs and the bloke who was trying to sell them because they had offended a member of the public. Now…on a scale of one to ten, who offends you the most?
Should point out that Paris was so sodding cold, that I managed to pick up flu symptoms while there, my first in a good few years. Being as accident prone as one could be I managed to slip and land arse first on the ground as I got off the tour bus. I later got snowballed to death by Anita and Taz as I tried to read a street map, oh and a dog almost took a keen liking to my leg - I shall not say anymore in regards to that.
