Archive for August, 2009

TGIF! Hope you are looking forward to the weekend as much as we are (especially if you are lucky enough to be looking at a 3-day bank holiday weekend too!). To celebrate, we’re dropping the snark — just for a moment, don’t panic — to share some of the things that we have giggled about recently. Enjoy!

1. From my favourite NZ column, Sideswipe:

2. What could be cuter than watching kitties play live? Watch em bounce around in a blur of fur!

3. Arnie confesses: yes I do still have the Conan sword and I keep it in my office!

4. Microsoft’s photoshop disaster gets re-photoshopped! From TechCrunch’s meme… This is our personal favourite:

Like Mark Ronson's semi-digested then regurgitated Motown classics? Try this at home, you schmuck.

Special guest contributor Laura has been vying to write something that we wouldn’t instantly send to the recycle bin. Here it finally is.

I’ll start off with something close to my heart. Music. Now rip it out, smash it into smithereens, blend it with coal and salt, then rub it in to my eyes. I’ll be talking about the result.

Mark Ronson.

Recent news from the smug Rah-boy media-type ‘Muzak’ ‘producer’ is that he is doing the same old fucking thing he always does: fuck all. Between excreting soulless rehashed money spinning versions of other people’s hard graft, he occasionally irritates my ears and eyes by appearing on panel shows and ruining them.

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It feels like a Friday, don’t you think? These sort of little gems usually occur on a Friday, anyway! Courtsey of Epic Fail … If you didn’t know the answer, wouldn’t you take the $500k and run?

Gimp couture

We have been discussing the subject of wearing masks lately at the Iwilldothatformoney office. It’s amazing really… People use a variety of methods – make up, plastic surgery, masks to either hide themselves or emerge from the crowd of us ordinary folk. I’m sure psychologists have done plenty of writing in these areas, but it still surprises me how some celebrities go beyond all conceivable notion to either conceal their insecurity or try to make up for lack of talent…

And there’s so many of them… Take for instance the band ‘Kiss’. Yes, the same ones who made ‘I was made for loving you’ and ‘Crazy Nights’, and ‘Forever’… Well, it seems nothing lasts forever with these guys… Did you go to Download festival 2008? Have you listened to them live? Oh no! Complete vocal and instrumental disaster. As most of you know Americans are quite good with make up and technology, so all fans were treated with nothing but appearances and firing guitars! Yes, firing guitars. You know, boom, boom and then lights coming out… Breathtaking experience! Honestly!

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JK Rowling: queen of fiction and everyfuckingthing else

I know. You’re thinking, what the hell? That’s a weird topic, considering a sizeable proportion of Iwilldothatformoney’s team are writers. The thing is, we’re not pretending anything. We know Iwilldothatformoney is never going to make money — we produce this blog for the mere joy of enriching the world every day with pithy, insightful and witty commentary… And as for our other writing, well, we do that because we’re mental. A strong dose of insanity is needed for someone to want to be a writer.

Being a writer is not easy. It’s a peculiar thing. Many writers hate writing; loathe it with a passion (as much as they hate clichés) — and yet, they must write, because the alternative (which would be not writing, for those following at home) is so much worse. Who would voluntarily select a life of such day-to-day repugnance?

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As you know — particularly if you are a true fan of the blog, of which we know there are about 4 — you will have read our first entry which announced our intentions to go the moon. We are entering the Google Lunar X Prize competition, with every intention of sauntering away with the $20 million grand award.

This week, key members of the team had our very first planning meeting, to start figuring out stuff:

Geoff explains the complex navigational route he has plotted

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Does your fat face need a work out? Then we have the product for you – the Facial Flex! You’re just 4 minutes and thirty bucks away from looking like… Marilyn Manson!

Marilyn Manson is an ardent user of the Facial Flex

“You can do it while you’re doing something else. You can watch television, walk the dog…,” says the host, Tommy. (Imagine if you saw your neighbour walk past with that in their mouth)

“Even if I don’t see anything yet, I know there’s something happening…,” says Susie, the caller-in. She sounds enthused.

“I know you’re looking at us doing it, and you’re going, does that really work?” says another host, Lisa. Very perceptive. It’s like she can actually see me through the TV.

Later, she adds: “Now if your New Year resolution includes working out, why aren’t you working out your face?”

Well, that’s a really good question, Lisa…

An extract from Inexplicable Celebrity: The Diary of Kayleigh-Anne Boyd

Kayleigh-Anne Boyd

Post eviction: Tuesday 15th October

Plotting in my apartment tonight, with aid of bottle of fizzy pink vino (makes me think clearer) about my life amphibian (which is to become mega famous, duh). I must become WAG if want to stay famous. It is logical next step, after Big Brother and celebrity perfume and pop song single.

Luckily I already play the part. Ticky list:

• ultra fab orange tan
• so, so totally hot blond AND black hair extensions
• longest, squarest acrylic nails (specially imported from Brazil)
• wardrobe entirely of lycra, spandex and latex
• Big Brother participation certificate, framed and hanging on my wall

My manager Angus has been guiding me whole way and is totally invested in me becoming WAG too.

And now we have Dwayne White in our steeley graspy sights…

We have made so, so totally awesome plan.

The man has no chance.

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More relevant and relatable than you: Banff National Park squirrel shot to fame accidentally - his upcoming album is now tipped to be Christmas #1

Imagine Iran launched a nuke right in the middle of the Baftas, or Grammys, and it was aimed at the hypothetical venue in question, killing everyone important in the world (everything crossed! – alas, I jest.)

Our tabloids would be devoid of content after a week.

They have Sunday supplements and obits prepared eons ago, waiting to be sent to press at the touch of a button. But what then? There will probably be attempts to make icons out of grieving relatives, but I have little enough faith in humanity to expect this to be met with widespread derision and the eventual collapse of the gossip tabloid market. Yay! Here’s hoping!

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