First Ever Badly Edited Video Blog (turn the volume up)


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London MCM 2011 Part One (I hope)

Today was MCM at ExCel, and everyone there was insane. So we fit right in.

I only have pictures from mine and Elizabeth’s phones, so hopefully I can post more when nice people put them on the Interwebz (hint, hint).

  I sneaked a photo of one of the Party Poison cosplayers while he was having a fag:

Sticking with the Killjoy theme for a minute: BLI on drugs!!!!

   Another Party Poison and her seriously cute doll (I only know her as Lithium Sunshine – I think – but thanks for letting me stick my phone in your face!):

  In a nice coincidental twist, Gerard’s dyed his hair black for when the band dressed up as knights for their almost-Halloween show in New Orleans yesterday. I hope he dyes it red again for the next Killjoy video, or those cosplayers are going to be bummed.

We saw at least one Fun Ghoul, about thirty Matt Smith Doctors, maybe ten David Tennant Doctors and a whatshisface-with-a-scarf Doctor. At one point two Matt Smiths and a David Tennant chased each other round the grass, attacking other Doctors as they went. I don’t read manga, but I learnt to recognise various wigged-and-robed characters as we went around various money-swindling stools. A hint to members of the public, however: wearing hotpants, bras and short skirts when they don’t fit or aren’t made for your sex is really scary. Please carry around signs to warn us.

  Now for some modern-art pictures by your resident artistes, entitled Lesbians On a Day Out.

   I thought about cropping out our crotches, you know, but then I remembered the title and that we are supposed to be an example of modern society. And we saw about twelve thousand innocence-violating outfits today, so I think I should leave it all in. Gritty realism and all that.

   And a picture of the artistes, for the portfolio:

You guys can title that last one, I can’t even be bothered to think something up snappy.

  New stuff soon, methinks.

This Time I Don’t Even Have a Lame Excuse.

I just sat and looked at Indifferent Ignorance’s site stats for today, and realised I haven’t posted in over a week. Oops.

I think I’ve forgotten to sit and write because interesting things in my life are currently at an all-time low. Twitter won’t work on my laptop or phone, I can’t join National Novel Writing Month this year because the only story that’s in my head got started in September, and I’ve spent my half term getting wet and ignoring eight pieces of homework.

Hardcore, I hear you say.

It is. It is indeed.

So’s this:

I love this dude. Character. I love the dude drawing the answers. This is my favourite so far, because it embodies friendship as I belive should exist everywhere: You’re welcome. I’m off to wash my hair.


Update: I didn’t actually abandon the blog for a week. When I posted the blog about Kerrang! and The Left Rights, I forgot to change the original timestamp of 11th August, which was when it was originally set to be posted, but didn’t because I’m an idiot. So it didn’t show up in my stats for the week. Everything else I wrote still stands, however.

Complaining About Kerrang! Magazine and Other Links to YouTube

   I’m still in the middle of catching up with everything, so I’m going to post a blog that I originally wrote for the mini-series I’m Somewhere Hot and You’re Probably Not in August, which never published because I forgot to press buttons.

  If that doesn’t keep you ticking over, then go and vote for My Chem at the EMAs (Best Alternative and Best World Stage), ask me anything on Formspring and enjoy VenetianPrincess terrorising people at Disneyland.

In Which I Complain About Kerrang! Magazine

   After reading a glowing iTunes festival review about My Chem in the Kerrang! published 30th July, and laughing at the Frank Iero poster in the very same issue, I was content and not expecting to see anything about any of the other two bands I follow. Until I saw this:

  Yes, Mr. Beebee, The Left Rights offer as much to society as fly tipping. But, er, what do you expect? It’s Jimmy Urine and Steve, Righ?. Mindless Self Indulgence.

Mindless. Self. Indulgence.

I haven’t actually gotten around to listening to the whole album, because I’ve been putting off buying it since its release in November, and I’m not YouTubing forty-one songs in the order they’re tracked in. But it’s Jimmy and Steve. Making noise. Which I’ve noticed they do rather well. So enjoy the madness, and, for our own entertainment:

Anyway, I can’t take a magazine seriously if the editor’s note hasn’t been edited… Spot the mistake.

“If a tree falls in a forest and no one’s around to hear it does it make a sound?” I dunno, but it might crush some flowers.

It’s weird when you come home from school and find an upside-down tree in your back garden. Then you discover that the tree felling people who are massacring the neighbours’ hedges have extended their services to your neighbours’ garden, and somehow a conifer (flew? Teleported?) managed to get into your mum’s flower bed. What was more interesting, I thought, was that the six-foot man who came round to pick it up, shoulder it and march it back to its rightful place in the tree-shredder, was allergic to dogs. They make him come out in a rash, apparently.

Like this dude could make anyone come out in a rash:

He didn’t want to get off my bed, so I made it around him. I don’t think he was impressed, but he let me take his picture before buggering off to somewhere he wouldn’t be disturbed (downstairs).

I need help captioning that photo, so suggestions are welcome. The best one gets a nice Twitter mention, along with the caption when I post it. You have until tomorrow evening if you want to become (in)famous on my Twitter timeline.


Some of you might have noticed that your inbox/Twitter timelines have been conspicuously empty of my ranting recently, so I thought I’d better explain before you all assume I’ve been eaten by the Content Monster or something.

Firstly, I’ve been really really busy. Partly with school and partly with a massively crap cold that’s made me into a snuffly, sneezing wimp. Hopefully in the next few days and weeks I’ll get better and/or get caught up with everything, so that’s a temporary issue.

A not-so-temporary issue is that I’ve been struggling with repetitive strain injury in my right wrist and arm for a while, and it flared up again this week. It’s usually an ache I can ignore when I’ve been blogging or writing a lot at one time, like I was with 10 Days. However, sometimes I get it so bad I can’t lift relatively small objects or write a couple of sentences without my entire arm and shoulder throwing a serious bitchfit. Generally, after a couple of days of writing left-handed, making sparse notes in class and bandaging my wrist at night, I’m good to go again.

Thing is, over the next eight months, I’m going to be writing more than ever, because of coursework and exams (I took three humanities. Writing is important to all of them. Learn from this, children). So I can’t just stop and start using one wrist and then the other once every few months, as interesting as that would be. Which means, until I work out some sort of wrist-saving system, updates could be a bit patchy.

Don’t fret, though, because I can still browse YouTube with one hand. In fact, I have been:

That never fails to crack me up.

I’ve also been writing haikus again. Read part one of The Emoshitter’s Guide to the Galaxy here, and don’t forget to review!

Start the Week As You Intend to Continue: By Doing My Bidding!

Happy Sunday everyone!

It’s a little known fact that Sunday is the first day of the week. I learnt this in RS; Saturday is Jewish Sabbath and the final day of the week, and the early Christians moved their day of worship to Sunday because Jesus was resurrected on a Sunday, and Jews didn’t like them preaching in their synagogues so kicked them out on Saturdays. But somewhere along the line we got the ‘weekend’ and all that was lost except to people who frequent synagogues or churches.

Anyway, my point is that, since today is the beginning of a new week, we should start it well by doing something good. Which, in my case (and yours, if you’d be so kind) is by voting for MCR in this year’s European Music Awards. They’re being held in Belfast in November, and in the mean time we’re all being encouraged to vote for our favourite artist.


Yeah, because My Chem can actually do laundry. We’ve seen Life on the Murder Scene. We know it’s all about the Febreze.

The whole thing’s got the MCRmy quite excited, I must say. There was a competition to design banners to encourage people to vote, a question devoted to it on this week’s #MCRChat and the Hilarious MCR Internet Memes thread got a bit hyper.

My contribution to the competition (I love Photoshop, hours of time-wasting and you don’t even need to use the Internet):

“While helping the downtrodden Mikey do his laundry in silence, I suddenly realized that I had fallen in love with him the same way my raven black locks fall gently over my my perfect ivory skin… The laundry symbolized our love and I hoped he would realize that too…”

Outerspacepink came up with that after someone pointed out that everyone’s going to spawn fan fiction out of, er, doing laundry. It could work.

It won’t work.

The Ways of the Universe

It’s true that you learn something new every day. On Monday, I learnt that there is a website called There is also a sister site, Please, someone, tell me they’re a wind up. Some of the people in the stories need therapy.

Yesterday, I found out two new things. The first is that Matt Damon – otherwise known as The Actor That Never Ages – studied English at Harvard University. I also discovered that Soulja Boy Tell ‘Em- otherwise known as That Dude Who Does Funny Dancing – has a real name. DeAndre Cortez. His surname is Way.


Should I now respect or listen to his music, or be content to ponder the ways of the universe? Ways of the universe, heh heh. I mean, chances are they aren’t related…

Finding the two most contradictory photos possible was quite amusing… If you’re wondering where I found this out, Soulja Boy was getting his surname tattooed onto his hand by Kat Von D on LA Ink, which I record and watch every week. Look!

I’ve been asked to discuss Stratford, but I don’t have any photos because my camera’s been playing up – I’m waiting for a long line of people to email theirs to people I know who can then email them to me. I’ve also been trying to make posts slightly less random, so my Shakespeare spouting will have to wait a while, I’m afraid.