So,the whole world is freaking out about SWINE FLU, apparently. It's so important, I even capitalised it. Soon, Hollywood will have made a movie about it starring Jake Gyllenhaal. That's if they all survive it long enough to finish it. Or if Gyllenhaal's head balances on his neck for long enough, 'cause one day, folks, it's gonna go. Timbeeeeer. Trust me, it's far too big to stay on his head. LITERALLY. But I've got so much more to worry about right now, so I shan't think about Swine Flu until I catch it. Then I might worry a little bit.
Today I was reading the Orange magazine sent to me by Orange to sell Orange to me. To conclude, it's quite boring. But faaaar better quality than, say, Closer. Or Now. Or Heat. It had Simon Pegg in it, for one. Just his face, in all honesty, but even that is better than having to stare at Jordan's ugly mutt for at LEAST 15 pages. One page, nearer to the end of said Orange magazine, was dedicated to suggesting fun things you could do, being one of the lucky, lucky Orange customers. "Why not take part in "Buff or Rough"? Just upload your photo and people can vote if you're buff...or rough!" Oh, OK then Orange. I shall do that IMMEDIATELY. I've always wanted some Chav or other to judge my face! I've always wanted someone to use the words "buff" or "rough" to describe me. What an excellent service you offer Orange. This sounds like SO MUCH FUN! Especially, like, if someone with quite low self esteem uses it to try and feel good about themselves, uploads their 'best' photo, only to find that Dave/Davette from Liverpool has called them rough. And ESPECIALLY when they then slit their wrists and DIE, all because of you ORANGE. Well done ORANGE.
They're clearly conspiring to indirectly commit mass murder. Bastards.
If I could find a better contract I might have moved, purely because Orange are clearly complete twats who don't deserve customers. Just damn them for having thought up and monopolised Orange Wednesdays. Damn them for all eternity.
OK, rant over. I've got far more important things to talk about than some dumbass phone company. Like how a big, mahoosive, muscley black man got on the bike next to me during X-biking on Wednesday. I saw him, and considered explaining to the instructor that we might need to rearrange the room so that he had somewhere to go when he ACTUALLY STARTED MOVING FORWARDS on the firmly floored bike. But instead I remained on my bike, quietly shitting my pants at the idea of having to work out next to The Hulk. Apparently, though, I had nothing to worry about. He was disappointingly NORMAL at it. Part of me couldn't wait for the moment when he'd set off and fly straight into the mirror in front of us. Damn him for not impaling himself on glass.
I'm damning a lot of people today. Please be assured that I have no real authority on who gets damned or not.