… I give you, The Penis Monologues, from Scotland:

Now, please, if you’re Scottish, don’t press stop instantaneously. Hear it out. Wait for my bumbling apology at the end. Judge it on its content rather than its apallingly sprawling accents. It starts off OK, and kind of goes downhill from there.

In my defence (I always have a defence), I’ve been doing an Irish accent for quite some time now. It’s a pretty good, sturdy Irish accent. I can even do a Northern, and a Southern accent… and a leprachaun, if I’m really pushed. The problem is, Scottish is quite similar to Irish. Now I’ve angered the Irish AND the Scots. But hear me out — Scotland had a lot of Irish settlers, mainly Catholic settlers that went there in the 19th and 20th centuries. The Scottish accent, whether the Scots agree or not, does sound a bit Irish. Perhaps if you go far enough North/East, the accent is different enough to be less difficult, or down on the Southern border where everyone’s speech is COMPLETELY and utterly unintelligible. Those damn Geordie folk, breeding and intermingling with the well-spoken natives.

The inspiration behind this one was most certainly Billy Connolly, whose biography I’m reading at the moment. This comic genius had an atrocious life, which I kind of wanted to pay homage to in some kind of gritty monologue, drawing attention to the times when families of 10 would live in 2-bedroom tenement (apartment) blocks… but it just didn’t work out, with the wavering accent. So I’ll just tell you all to read the book, and find out for yourself just how dismal post-war Scotland was — especially for a Catholic child, in a city that was predominantly Protestant. I wouldn’t read it purely for a good read though — the reviews on Amazon are pretty accurate. If you really want something that’s dismal, is well-written, and makes you reflect on just how good your life is,  stick to something like Angela’s Ashes.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the monologue, even if it is a little silly. Tomorrow’s should be better. If it really left a bitter taste in your mouth, here’s a couple of Billy Connolly himself (if you can’t see the videos you’ll need to visit my blog):

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-7704074501009922494

My accent isn’t THAT far off, HAH!

Without further ado, The Irish Penis Monologue:

 
(If you can’t see the player, you’ll have to visit my blog)

Anyone that knows me fairly well (in real life) will probably have realised by now that these monologues are somewhat based on people that I admire, or somehow feel connected to.

Today’s monologue, stars an Irish priest. There is really only one Irish priest that really pops into everyone’s head — Father Ted Crilly (or perhaps Dougal, if you’re that way inclined), the star of one of the finest sitcoms ever to grace our TVs, Father Ted. In a truly odd quirk of fate the star, Dermot Morgan, who plays Father Ted and who was only 46, died of a heart attack only 24 hours after they finished filming the last ever episode of the show.

The show came a rather important time, when the Catholic church was under a lot of pressure from the media. Luckily, the show definitely threw the church into a different light, with an amazing cast of bumbling, inane and really special priests. Father Ted himself was meant to represent the sane, normal priest — the character that actually kept the plot moving in some kind of direction — who was stuck with these truly demented priests, for all eternity, for a reason that is never really made clear to the viewer.

If you’ve never seen it, and you like British situation comedy, Father Ted is probably the funniest thing you could ever buy, or download. In fact, I dare you to watch an episode and tell me you didn’t laugh out loud at least a handful of times. You can a great review of it at Television Heaven, if you don’t trust someone that spends his days roleplaying cowboys and Irish priests.

I hope you liked the Irish monologue! I think it might be Pakistani tomorrow… have mercy upon me Vishnu…

First, a disclaimer: I know I look pretty damn awful. It’s intentional. I was faced with either shaving and grooming myself… or working with it! Anyway, it’s what’s on the inside that counts, right?

I have a basic idea of where the story’s going, so I’ll try to update fairly regularly. They’ll probably just feature into-the-camera style monologue, but who knows… maybe I’ll start getting creative and exploring ‘the bunker’. Don’t be surprised if the style changes a bit in the first few installments either; I’m fairly new to the video thing, so I have to play with the software a bit and see what works!

Make sure you don’t miss an example of one of my, um, flexible facial expressions towards the end. And don’t give up until you get to the end — it’s short, and it’s worth it! You might also have to turn the volume up!

For those of you expecting something else entirely: sorry for the interruption; programming will resume as normal tomorrow.

I went with the going-slowly-insane route for the plot of Day 37, my new epic video diary/vlog. Who needs sanity anyway? It’s a totally overvalued trait… Right?

As always, it was rehearsed and recorded in about 45 minutes, so don’t expect fantastic production values. If you titter, just once, I’ll be happy. If you grin broadly, laugh out loud, or — dare I say it — gigglesnort, I’ll chalk it up as a massive victory for hairy, yeti-like British men the world over!

Enjoy!

It is with great pride, and with almost no hesitance at all, I give to you the third — and final (for now!) — chapter of Day 37, a story that chronicles the poor plight of a Brit destined to spend all of eternity in a bunker, where no one can hear him fart.

There will be proper pictures of the half-beard to follow, don’t worry!

Please, fast forward 2 months.

As mind’s eye pans over the green, leafy British countryside the rapid staccato percussion of a helicopter’s blades can be heard. As we grow closer, the chopper comes into view. Hovering, its illuminating search light pointed down at the ground.

On the ground firemen and other emergency-response types move around quickly, with purpose. An a-frame and winch is assembled, with a taut steel cable running from it down into a pit as dark as pitch.

One of the firemen activates the winch. After what seems like an eternity of grinding gears and the sound of steel plinking tightly a hirsute… thing is hauled out of the hole and quickly lifted onto a stretcher. Half man, half something, he — it — blinks in the bright lights.

As he is dragged away from you and into the back of an ambulance only one thing is heard, a slight mania in his voice: “I can lick my own elbow you know!”

…

And that, kind sirs, is my epic escape from the bunker in Day 37.

Below is the next installment of Day 37. The beardless aftermath that picks up the story again, a week or month after Sebastian has been rescued from a bunker that he was trapped in for 3 months. If you haven’t seen Chapters 1-3 of Day 37, I suggest you watch them first, as this one won’t make much sense without the back story!

‘The die is cast’ were the fateful words spoken by Julius Caesar as he crossed the Rubicon — the singular act that would set in motion the eventual overthrow, downfall and destruction of the Roman republic, the repercussions of which are still felt today.

After a truly dismal beginning of the week, England finally warmed up again — just in time, too! The competition closed last Monday, and I really didn’t want it to drag on another week. I woke up on Sunday morning to be greeted by lovely, spring sunshine; it was TIME! Time to get Eric out of the box. I quickly ran downstairs and let Eric out of the rather cosy box that had been his home for the last week. Isn’t there a phrase about cats being out of boxes? Bags?

There was a bounce in his step. His face was upturned, absorbing the sun’s warm rays. He prowled around randomly, ping-ponging like Brownian motion and sniffing his surroundings, re-attuning his sense of smell and touch.

‘Today is a good day to choose a winner, Sebastian.’ I looked at Eric, shocked that he’d developed the ability to talk while caged up in his temporary, cardboard prison. The last week of solitude had obviously been quite a journey.

‘Indeed it is, Eric. Indeed it is.’

If you can’t see the following video, you’ll have to view it on my blog. The winner is shown at the end of the video. Later today I will post substantiating and ratifying proof that Eric did indeed choose the winner fairly, and justly.

I’m aware that the video’s pretty rough around the edges, but I only spent an hour filming and hacking it together! Thanks to everyone for taking part, a warm thank you to Eric for being such a good sport and congratulations to the winner!

Unbeknownst to the horde of Americans that have been staying at my house over the past two weeks, I’ve actually been chronicling the state of the downstairs shower.

Boys are probably well aware of ‘Female Toiletry Multiplication Syndrome’ (FTMS) where, magically, one shampoo bottle magically divides itself, over night, into two bottles the next day. This process continues until, eventually, your entire shower is full of damn bottles. Everywhere you put your foot: bottle! And that’s if you’re lucky. When the razors and loofahs start dividing you’re in trouble…

Obviously, with six girls under one roof, this problem is exacerbated. Not only do you have shampoo bottles, there’s conditioner. And exfoliators. Defoliators! (Is that even a word?)  Razors, lotions, sponges… and even some shower gel!! But, of course, being the sensible girls that they are, they shared just one shower gel.

If only they’d shared the other products too…

A timelapse sequence from the past eleven days now follows.

Shower gel, shampoo and conditioner. Sensible.

More bottles of the same stuff? WHY?!

Obviously, after three days, some shaving needs to occur.

Another girl realises it’s time to shave! I wonder if it’s like ‘pack mentality’ — one shaves and they all shave.

Oh… my… God. The pink sponge. I thought I’d hit the mother lode when this beauty turned up. It made all the waiting worthwhile.

Two remaining girls seem to have remember that their legs are probably getting a bit hairy by now. Also, some pretty blue bottle whose contents I enver did ascertain…

Someone’s obviously had a bit of a tidy-up. A few more bottles arrive. Exfoliator maybe? Not sure.

MORE bottles. Now some baby oil in the bottom right? Or baby shampoo? And some hair treatment stuff.

Out of frickin’ NOWHERE another razor! Wait, no, three more razors. Someone obviously likes — or, by this stage, needs — a sharp blade.

Like gremlins they are… multiplying… By this stage, it was very hard to actually take a shower. I’m not a small guy, and finding somewhere to put my feet was a challenge.

…

And the worst bit is that I only just realised that one of the girls has finished my shampoo. Women! Gotta love ‘em… right…?

I know, posting videos you’ve found on the Internet and not actually writing something is highly frowned upon.

But… the thing is, as a truly ‘online personality’ and a member of hundreds of forums, communities and chat rooms, in a normal day I look at lots of shit. Pictures (damn lolcats…), comics and… VIDEOS!

Which is what I’m going to share today. Videos. Cool, cute, funny and weird — one of each. If I recall correctly, you can’t see videos in my RSS feed, so I’ll provide links, or you can read this entry on my blog — up to you. If this is popular I might do some cool/interesting images/photos next week!

Starting off with ‘funny’ (and cute), we have Maru the cat:

You might know of Maru from his ‘box jumping‘ (or ‘box sliding’) antics. Turns out he has even more tricks up his sleeve. As a result, he’s probably the cutest animal in the world — and coming from someone that isn’t ‘into’ cats, that means a lot.

Next up, to combat the huge, foolish grin that’s probably on your face right now, a kid that was recently in the news for crying blood:

Yeah. Pretty creepy. Didn’t they have a case like that on House a while back? (Incidentally, with the winter TV season returning, expect Dushku Day to make its return…!)

Now the coolest of the lot, a robotic hand that was presented earlier this year. If you don’t find it cool initially, watch through until the phone-toss-and-catch at the end. And then re-watch it a few more times. And now go and watch Terminator 1 and 2 again…

Finally a longer but ‘neat’ video of a Japanese monkey (chimpanzee?) being shown some magic tricks. Just basic sleight-of-hand and a little illusion. Watch the monkey’s reactions. You don’t have to watch al of it!

Now I must go and think of a photo suitable for week 2 of 52 Weeks! See you all on Monday.

Balloon comedian & It’s all about the cake, or how Sebastian found Abi

Seb: I should probably preface this by saying he is a member of my family. I don’t actually go around taking photos of little boys, asking them to tie balloons to their ears — that was all his idea. I just pointed the camera in the right direction (which just so happens to be the most important thing with photography, by the way).

I got a new lens this week — a Sigma 50mm — so expect to see a lot more photos like this. I’m building up to doing some journalistic work/people photography. The idea is to hit up somewhere like India or South Africa and head to the slums or the wild undergrowth. I’ll also be doing some portraiture and live music work.

I’ve always been good at catching just the right moment, but the key to photography (other than pointing in the right direction!) is understanding your tools. The only way to do that is to take lots of photos!

If you like this kid, I have a few more photos of him to share…

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Abi: Ah Cake!. It can unite or divide nations, it can be used to celebrate or commiserate and it is power is not to be underestimated. Make no mistake, cake is VERY important to some people. Who knew that somewhere, deep in the bowels of some forum, there are a whole bunch of self employed artists who, quite simply love cake. And this photo is partly dedicated to them.

I won’t go into the details of who did (or didn’t) speak first. I won’t elaborate on the fact that when Seb did eventually address me, it was to tell me off about something. I think you will agree that it was not the best start. I would even go so far as to say it is a wonder we are friends at all.

So this week’s image is a comment on the bonding powers of cake and one persistent, hairy photographer. Enjoy.

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To visit either Flickr stream, click a photo!