#Hey thats far out, so you heard him too?#

I was watching TV earlier on, and there was some program where they throw some people into a kitchen with so called celebrity chefs, and then filmn them being shouted at. Yet another in the saga of reality television that is invariably as boring as shite, and has about the same intellectual content of a pair of sandals. It was after I had endured 15 whole minutes of some self-important food critic moaning that his mushrooms weren't to his liking that I came to the conclusion that it was quite possibly the most pretentious load of bollocks that I have ever had the displeasure to set eyes upon. Well, there are probably worse things, but it was certainly the worst thing I ever had to watch today. Let this be a lesson as to what can happen if you loose the telly remote - you will be forced into watching such rubbush as this.

Anyway, I think thats enough of my daily cynicism. Mayday is approaching, and I am having inexplicable urges to purchase a bike, get absolutley pissed and then dance about a bit. Possibly or possibly not featuring maypoles and drunken morris dancers. Meh, now can you see how screwed my brain has become after years of hard-line caffeine abuse?