Month: May 2001 (page 1 of 17)

AHHH! This is one of the best Flash games I’ve ever seen. Make Anne Widdecome do “The Sprinkler”! See Tony Blair break it down with “The Cabbage Patch”! See William Hague “vogue”. (Link courtesy of Jann.)

“The Wind Done Gone” is supposed to go on sale June 28, but Amazon still doesn’t have it available to pre-order. Dammit, Jeff! I want this book!

Well of course somebody’s going to get more excited about a DVD player than chocolates. A DVD player costs, like, five hundred bucks, while chocolates are, like, two-fitty. Now, if the comparison were between a DVD player and $500 worth of chocolate, THAT would be an interesting experiment. (Link courtesy of Sore Eyes.)

Ow, you guys! My ass! Seriously.
All South Park jokes aside, my bum really does hurt. My legs creak. My lungs burn. Why? Because exercise is the Devil, kids. Just a little tip from your Aunt Kris.
So last night I decided to try yet another new class at my gym: spinning. In case you’ve never heard of it, spinning basically consists of a bunch of people pedalling furiously on stationary bikes while a little blond ponytailed twig-person screams at them over really loud dance music. Or something. I figured it wouldn’t be too difficult, seeing as how the only other person there at first was this old guy. Remembering the Aqua-Robics experience (old people = nice and leisurely workout), I figured this would be a cake-walk. Until I saw him lacing up his special Nike pedalling shoes. I must’ve looked scared, because Little Old Guy (L.O.G.) told me not to worry, that he was just a “poser” and that I wouldn’t have any trouble. He was a damn liar.
The first thing I realized when I jumped on my bike was that, unlike regular bicycles, you can’t stop pedaling while the wheels are turning. The pedals are literally connected to the wheels, so once you start it’s really, really hard to stop. Bravely, though, I placed my water bottle in the holder and my towel over the handlebars and started to pedal. I managed to keep up for the first 20 minutes, until “Shannon” (the twig-person) introduced the concept of standing up and pedaling, as if one were riding up a hill. DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THAT KILLS? I was dying. Eventually I collapsed onto my seat, having made a bargain with my body that I’d at least continue to pedal as long as I didn’t throw up all over my nice new Reeboks. Wearily, I looked over to L.O.G., who’s standing up and pedaling away like Lance friggin’ Armstrong or something! I think that’s when I first got the urge to cry. The end eventually came, but not before a lot of mental cursing of “Shannon” and L.O.G. I’ve never been so happy to get off a bike in my entire life.
The worst part of the whole thing is that I still feel like crap today. It’s as if the spinning somehow fundamentally altered my body on a genetic level. Or else my body got pissed off at its perceived punishment and is now paying me back. Regardless, my calves are sore, my ankles are weak, and my bum is still shaped like that damn bicycle seat. Never, ever spin, kids.

Okay, so not only will we have urinals in Trafalgar Square, but all the lightposts will be covered with urine-scented posters as well? Ahh, London, City of Pee-Pee.

WOW. Did you see this young guy Andy Roddick defeat Michael Chang yesterday? I was watching it on the television while I warmed up at my gym. It freaked me out at first because he looks quite a bit like my younger brother, Anthony. I had to leave for my spinning class (more on that in a minute) with the score tied 5-5 in the fifth set. The poor kid was cramping so badly he would nearly collapse after every point. “My hand was doing this cool, bendy thing and my leg was cramping,” Roddick said. “I’m just glad to get through that.” That cracked me up.

HA! I take it back. The Bush twins are not Elizabeth and Jessica Wakefield. They’re more like Paris and Nikki Hilton.

Hey, John, I saw your girlfriend on the cover of GQ in a newsagent’s window today. (It doesn’t seem to be on their site though.)

I’m not sure about the real Bill Gates, but I can definitely see the Anthony Micheal Hall version frequenting a sleazy nightclub.

Conservative poster in 1997 campaignOkay, that is the scariest thing I’ve ever seen. I see now why Labour felt compelled to make fun of ol’ Baldy.