The press seemed to have kicked off today because a little bit of the best television show of recent times, Frozen Planet, was filmed in a German Zoo. The footage of baby polar bears, the likes of which has never been seen before, has pissed off all of about 12 journalists and no one else, because they were tricked into thinking it was filmed in the polar regions and not at die zooe. This is despite it still being amazing footage, despite the risk that cameramen would’ve had to have taken to film it in the wild and despite the fact that this is no way as bad as calling up and deleting the answer phone messages of a murdered girl. Which to be fair, I’d be really really appalled if Attenborough did that as it’d seem waaaaay out of character. I’m just saying that they really shouldn’t criticise the best program on TV for a slight bit of ‘TV magic’ of the very best and educational kind when the press itself is far more responsible for lies. Also, I’d far prefer a few lies about polar bears than about our countries finances systems, people’s personal lives or terrorist attacks. Attenborough is one of the few reasons (sadly) that the BBC is worth keeping anymore, don’t drive him away because he didn’t want to send cameramen into small holes in the Arctic in order to have their faces gnawed off by big bears. Which incidentally, the press would’ve have given him even more shit for.
I’m terrified what will happen when they find out Animal Park was all filmed in a zoo…..
My attempt at Christmas shopping this morning, despite romping around the West End for some hours, has resulted in only one small present being bought, as well as some oil pastels I’ve got in an attempt to get onto some arty things over the festive season, and a tub of Marshmallow Fluff that I’ve bought in order to make sure I’m so spazzed out of my mind on diabetic sugar highs I won’t get anything done at all. Or possible make the most trippy, odd artwork pieces ever, based on the glucose spirals I see swirling in front of my eyes once I’ve had a teaspoon full. I shouldn’t go near the stuff but the fact is I have a stupidly vicious sweet tooth and the cloudy white stuff is a bit like eating magic. Nothing should be that fluffy and that tasty all at once. Nothing. Except candy floss, which is another form of my personal kryptonite. I’m fairly sure that both of these evil devices were made by rogue fairies whose entire purpose in life is to make my death day that little bit closer. So far too much of the Fluff has been in eaten in the few hours since being at home. Myself and L have already taken to eating it with a spoon, and then smothering it on a cake. I even dipped my clementine segments into it knowing full well that any vitamins that piece of fruit contained were drowned in candy joy, and now won’t reach my heart or the parts of the body it should as its so globbed down with goo it probably hasn’t made it much past my throat. Hooray for fluff. I fully expect to be found on Christmas eve so tangled up in it that I spend Xmas trapped in a door frame like a fly in a spider’s web. The only noise I make, the ‘fluff fluff’ of my exasperated breath as I try to eat my way out of it, but keep having such high blood sugars I pass out. In an odd way, I think I would be fine about this. Hooray for fluff.
According to some newspaper articles, Cameron desperately needed the toilet while making his Euro Veto decisions last week, in an attempt to focus his mind. I have heard that this is something Stephen Fry has recommended on QI, but I can’t, for the life of me, think why that would work. When I need to pee, all I can think about is how much my bladder hurts and that I need to pee. To even try and think about the consequences of a fiscal union between EU members would be very beyond me, let alone just thinking about not peeing. 100% of my brain power kicks into ‘survival mode’ whereby I think of the nearest place I can pee, and go pee. I’ve left gigs of my favourite bands, during favourite songs, just to pee, missing that entire track barging through crowds in order for relief, so making diplomatic decisions I could not do. Though judging by Cameron’s decisions I’m not sure he could either. I just hope this doesn’t become a new fad, where all major decisions become flawed by added toilets in planning works, or major water works ideas never finished due to the amount of accidents when mentioning its flowing system. Silly silly idea indeed.