Lost a quarter of a stone, not amazed at that really.

My last update was my 42nd update. Perhaps I should have made a bit more of a thing about that given the fact I'm such a big fan of The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy and that the number 42 is the punchline to one of the best jokes in there. However I didn't, because I'm too disorganised and don't notice things until they've passed. I don't think this is actually a bad thing though. Good jokes are often ruined by thick people liking them.

I was discussing this with a mate today, the fact that there are some people you don't want to read your weblog, laugh at your jokes or even be allowed to enjoy anything you do creatively. It's a vague thing but you must know the sort. 'Meatheads' is a nice word to describe them with. They ruin things for everyone. There's a great tirade on the fantastic SOTCAA website which sums up my thoughts on this. In fact I'd be interested to hear your thoughts: Nick@hallamfm.co.uk
The reason I mention this in connection with the Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy is twofold:

Firstly I've just bought the film version (finally) on DVD. It's awful. No, it's average and therefore awful. An averge film inspired by a truely great: book-TV show-radio series. How can you get it right in so many other media yet balls it up in film form? I'll tell you, 'meatheads'. They're the reason it's been ruined. Pandering to thickos and ruining it for the majority of people who have a brain. In-fu#king-furiating.

Secondly I remember really clearly hearing some people in my local slagging off Hitchhiker's in a pub. Their criticisms were aimed at the more intelligent parts of the (average) film. I realised there and then that some people are too stupid to bother with.

I've debated long and hard if the title of my blog is too tw#tty or not. It's a close call. Me being proud of my ability to think is something that could immediately offend you on a base level until you swallow it down a bit and realise you feel the same.


Getting hassle off the love of my life to sort my foot out. I've run out of excuses, I will call the Doctor tomorrow. Honest.


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