plasticbag.org

So I have an idea for the next project after Big Brother. I call it “Lord of the Flies’ Celebrity Big Brother Quake Castaway Deathmatch”, and involves introducing novel ideas like easily transmittable diseases, LSD-spiked foods, a ready supply of chainsaws, axes and chest freezers, permanently red strobe lighting and the sound of faraway crying babies, to a community isolated away from all other human contact. I thought ideal inhabitants for the LotFCBBQCD camp might include: Sir Cliff Richard, Charles Manson, the Queen Mother, Annabel Chong, Margaret Thatcher, Weird Al Jancovic, Doctor Dre, Ozzy Osbourne, Victoria Beckham & Germaine Greer. Not because I don’t like them particularly, but because I think you really need to get a range of human experience. Opinions?

Revealed – a picture of myself and David schmoozing at the Yell.com awards. I’m the one next to Mr Ross…

Thanks to Neale for incorporating one of my lines into “Da Bomb Rap by Front-End”. To quote:

“yo this is homey.d.j.action-item empowering and embracing the love of the internet and telling everyone that the heart and soul of the net is the individual creative and personal website.”

Today’s game, Name A Friend From A Baby Picture [E-mail him for clues or to comment on his cherubic hair]

More on Ivan Massow:

• BBC News
• Guardian Unlimited
• Yahoo! News
• Massow Associates

In the UK, there is this extremely successful young gay businessman called Ivan Massow. He is also, unfortunately, drop dead gorgeous. He is the friend of a friend of mine and I’ve met him a couple of times in passing. Unfortunately he has had one major flaw – his political leanings. Until very recently he has been the UK equivalent of a rampaging Republican – people we like to call “Tories” – whether or not other names might be more suitable.

Mr Massow has been feted by Margaret Thatcher, spoken at Tory Party Conferences and stood up in front of the whole gay community (from whom he has made considerable amounts of money by selling them insurance) and declared his allegiance to the party that has consistently tried to keep the divisive Section 28. But all this has now changed – it’s just been on Newsnight that he has defected to Labour!

I’ve tried to find some copy about this on the web, but completely without success – it’s a real breaking story and hasn’t got to them yet. So consider this a web exclusive: YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST! [More news as I have it]

Dear Ms Elastico,

I read your recent comment about my site with considerable interest and attach a part below so that anyone who wishes to comment can do so.

“After some consideration, I’ve realized that this blog is the equivalent of those websites we made when we first got the web. You know, the ones that we tried to make up creative content for but it was always just a pointless page full of our very unneeded opinions. And yes, unneeded is a word. Barbelith, however, isn’t a word. I think I read it was the name of a kingdom in Tom’s dream.”

So my mother and my little brother are coming down to London this coming weekend. Kate and Mella, my flatmates are off on holiday on Saturday, and are not returning for a week and a half – so it seemed like a good time for the family to visit. Now all I have to do is figure out what to do with them. And tidy up the flat, do my washing, finish off any web work I have to do etc etc. Still, it’ll be cool to see my little brother…

Tom’s Fucked Up Dream Life [the first in a series]: So I’m lying on this bed, fully clothed, half buried under a pile of cushions, with Pacey Witter (from Dawson’s Creek, also fully clothed) using me as a pillow. He’s talking to Dawson (also fully clothed – sheesh – you guys have dirty minds), who is at the other end of the bed. They are discussing whether or not they’ve ever had a same sex experience in this slightly “Dare you!” kind of way. I am really relaxed but completely fascinated by the nape of Pacey’s neck and the warmth that his body is putting out.

Then suddenly, for no reason at all, I am outside the house, where it is raining heavily and night. I am on some kind of quick provisions foray, trying to find something. At a tiny roundabout I stop and ask a policeman the way back. But as I try to return, the hill gets incredibly steep and I suddenly get this overwhelming conviction that I have accidentally killed someone in some kind of automotive accident, and that I ran away and no one knows. Consumed by guilt I try to return to the house, but the hill keeps getting steeper and steeper and it begins to rain more and more heavily, and there is wind and more wind and darkness and noise and I suddenly wake up still convinced that I had a car accident and killed someone and feeling strangely cheated by my Pacey dream.

Ways to become famous #1 [the first in a series]: Taking the lead from such prominent celebrities as Sarah Jessica Parker and Sarah Michelle Geller, add the name “Sarah” to the beginning of name, thus producing media friendly nomenclature: “Sarah Thomas Coates”. Hang out with celebrity friends Sarah Katherine Lindemann, Sarah Mark Olynciw, Sarah Derek Powazek and Sarah Jason Kottke. Sip cocktails provocatively. Arch an eyebrow.