Captain Zoom should totally sue for copyright infringement

The second half of Saturday I spent at The Big Day Out in Whittington Park in Islington, some sort of fair for families. I thought it was going to be way more exciting than it was, but this picture of Mr. Boom, One Man Band From The Moon was about as exciting as it got.

I don't know if I sent an image of this one already, but I finally managed to take a picture of Banksy's latest work off Oxford Street. The greatest thing about this one is that there's a huge CCTV camera immediately to the right of where he painted.

The Freddie Mercury statue at the Dominion Theatre where We Will Rock You has been playing for something like 7 years. I have to say that the Freddie Mercury statue I saw in Montreaux Switzerland was way cooler. And not just because it wasn't surrounded by hordes of high school kids on a field day.

On Sunday morning I went to the Good Food Festival also taking place in Islington. This too was rather disappointing. The only good thing about it was a huge herb stand that would have been a jackpot if I cooked at all. What do you think this tastes like though? Tender Vittles with a hint of toothpaste?

Ah, the Nice Green Van of organic and fairtrade ice cream. The choices are...limited.

A cross-dressing nun called Transister

Kanye West, here’s an update for you. The word ‘invisible’ does not rhyme with the word ‘invincible.’ (Another update? You are neither.)

I love to see a grown man walking down Oxford Street eating a Belgian waffle with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. I love even more to see that same grown man’s chin, nose, and cheeks covered in ice cream as if he were a 3-year-old with no inhibitions about shovelling dessert into his face. Wear that ice cream proud, sir.

Walking down the busiest street in the world filled with flocks of tourists is usually a painful experience for me. But studying (i.e. laughing at) human beings’ behavior in their natural habitat (i.e. within proximity to schlock-y stores and Chinese takeaway stands) more than makes up for it. Like when that one girl bumped shoulders with that other woman and she kept walking but quite obviously mumbled ‘bitch’ under her breath.

Lisa to Apple employee Pearce: “Is there any way to add songs to a current playlist on an iPod?”
Pearce: “Can you move to the iPod station over here? I’m not allowed to move from this spot.”
Lisa: “Okaaaaaay.” (Moves 1 foot to the right)
Pearce: “So, what can I do for you?”
Lisa: “I want to know if it’s possible to add an artist to a current playlist on an iPod.”
Pearce: “If you click the center button, it will play the selected artist.”
Lisa: (Realizing I need to put this in his terms so that maybe he’ll start answering the questions I’m asking) “Okay, say I’m listening to COLDPLAY but I want to also listen to THE BEATLES. How would I do that?”
Pearce: “Ah, okay. Well, say you’re listening to X&Y…that’s an album by Coldplay…if you click Play, it will play all the songs from that album. If you click on The Beatles, it will play Beatles songs.”
Lisa: (Thinking “Oh my God, my mother knows more about iPods than this man”) “Is there any way to create a playlist that crosses artists though?”
Pearce: “Sure, on iTunes you can create playlists. If you want to create a playlist for a party, you can choose the songs you want to hear and set them as your ‘Party Playlist’.”
Lisa: (About to shove the iPod up his British nose) “Right. I know about creating playlists on iTunes. But can I do that on an actual iPod?”
Pearce: “Oh on an iPod? No. You can’t do that.”

This weekend was the Glastonbury music festival. It’s about as big here as Woodstock was in America, except it happens every year. I suppose you could compare it to Bonnaroo these days, but with more people, normally more rain and mud, and more skinny jeans. Saturday afternoon I caught Amy Winehouse’s performance on BBC2. Okay. Here’s the thing. I used to feel sorry for this chick. She has genuine talent and put out a couple good albums, but the media won’t let up on her for a second just because of a few mere things like crack pipes, anorexia, domestic violence, and an incarcerated husband. But I really thought she was undeservedly being crapped on. Until I watched this show. Holy moly that girl has issues! I’m sure you heard about the highlight of her performance when she repeatedly punched a fan (in her defense, they are claiming he grabbed one of her knockers). But what you may not have heard about is Amy:
- Calling Kanye West a cunt
- Fiddling non-stop (and non-soberly) with the hem of her dress
- Shoving her boobs back into her strapless dress after each song
- Asking the audience to let her know if one of her “tits pops out”
- Holding up her beehive hairdo so that it wouldn’t fall over
- Running at pretty high speeds across the stage in heels that were not made for a 95-pound drunk girl
- Flubbing her entrance on “Rehab,” stopping the band, and starting over again
- Confessing that Blake used to beat her with a cricket bat

All in all, it was a pretty decent set.

87% of the way to Mulletville, population 1

I'm telling you that Brits are obsessed with ice cream. I enjoyed my first cone (half mint chocolate chip, half pralines and cream) in Brighton and was absolutely delighted to find that they put crack or something as equally addicting in the cones here...the actual cone, I mean, not the ice cream. It just tasted flakier, deliciouser, and wonderfuler somehow. It took everything I had not to steal both of these kids' cones and run away giggling. (The kid on the left will be a plumber one day.)

This was part of the entranceway to the burned-down West Pier. I'm telling you. Graffiti in England is like strewn Dunkin Donuts cups in America; they're everywhere.
In addition to bull riding, a scrambler, a haunted house, and bumpah cahs, the beach was home to this weird bungee "ride." You strap on a harness (let's hope the JPM filter doesn't pick this up) and after the cords are released, you go flying into the air inciting oohs and aahs from the crowd. And if you're this guy, you do somersaults over and over again both impressing this little lady taking your picture, but also making her want to throw up a little bit.
Normally I don't like crowds. But for some reason I wasn't bothered by the throngs of people crawling out of their hibernation caves during the first genuinely hot weekend we had here. I'm pretty sure it was the ice cream that appeased me.
And then there was the rockin' guitar and bass. They sounded as awesome as they look.

Who else is seriously bothered by Simon Cowell’s haircut?

Not a lot of updates today.

I will clarify since many of you have asked – I didn’t move my seat in the theatre the other night because about 5 more people came and sat on the other side of me, essentially trapping me in my hell. However, they did have enough common sense to leave an open seat between us.

British people love ice cream. I mean, they really love it. If it gets to be over 65 degrees, people flock to ice cream trucks like it’s their job.

The forecast for Saturday is: Rain, some thundery

I don’t usually get my panties in a bunch about being politically correct, but this blurb from yesterday’s paper regarding Angelina Jolie’s babies rubbed me the wrong way:
“The twins will be the fifth and sixth children for the star who already has one natural daughter, one-year-old Shiloh, and three adopted kids.”
I mean, ‘natural daughter’ isn’t the best way of saying that, is it?

P.S. Congratulations to everyone graduating this weekend (and in the upcoming weekends as well)! Special congratulations go out to Elissa who will officially become a librarian tomorrow; she will be handed a cardigan and glasses on a chain as she walks across the Simmons stage. Let’s all whisper our praises to her.