I have been feeling quite tired over the last few weeks, but finally I found something to make me want to stay out of the house for longer – and it was last night’s Ruth Moody‘s gig.
Last night’s gig at the Green Note in London
Can we truly experience joy if we can’t laugh at ourselves?
Dave likes to irritate me just a bit, and from time to time finds something that makes me laugh AND irks me at the same time, which is a good result.
Yesterday he sent me this:
Now, this is a fairly good depiction of what is so irritating about Manic Pixie Dream Girls. Is it that pointless, that overly dramatic, that shallow in my Pixieverse? Perhaps sometimes it is. Continue reading
Okay, okay, language isn’t specific to London. In fact, were we actually to talk purely about London, we should probably talk about the lack of grammar! It’s such a melting pot of dialects, languages and slang that I’ve seen every possible rule broken. Nothing was as shocking, however, as watching Hollyoaks for the first time (one of the worst British soaps) and hearing INCORRECT language on television! *gasp*
Bad grammar… oh, joy.
Ooh ooh I am so excited my eye is twitching!
Look what arrived in the post last night:
Your eyes are not deceiving you, this is a real, tangible, physical, printed copy of Lame Adventures: Unglamorous Tales from Manhattan! Continue reading
There is something about the British sense of humour. Or maybe I should say English, because actually, I think you can point to quite specific variances in e.g. Scottish or Irish acts. Nevertheless, they call it British humour, so be it then.
Print-worthy item in a local newspaper.
The way I see it, it takes a while to get used to it. There are people who will simply never find it funny. There’s lots of people who find it quite offensive. Quite a lot probably just don’t get it. And then of course, there are many who think it’s absolutely hilarious. Continue reading