Colour Conrad Confused

Is This A Big Joke At My Expense?
     Conrad has long felt that "Strictly Come Dancing" doesn't exist, it's merely an hilarious jape at his expense and in a few years time the BBC will admit it all with a headline:"Ha Ha We Fooled Conrad Didn't We?"
     Imagine how confused he feels about the Tour De France.

The Toure Eiffel.  Close enough.

     There's a massive clue in that title: "France".  Or, to put it another way, FRANCE!  The Tour de France is a big bicycle binge that takes place across the Channel, right?  Or - have the French become so smitten with Sir Bradley Wiggins that they simply have to make a pilgrimage to his birthplace and start cycling home from there?  And how will they get across the Channel?

How?  A sports version of this!

Conrad's Cake Goes Down Well
     As you are no doubt aware after reading last night's blog - you did read it, didn't you? - Conrad was dashing round the kitchen as soon as he arrived home, getting - I don't want to labour the point, but how can you prove to me that you did read the blog yesterday? - all the prepared ingredients together and managing to not overbake or underbake the cake, with a margin of - PROVE YOU READ YESTERDAY'S BLOG!! - error of only ten minutes, since I had to venture out to the pub quiz.
     My worries about it being soggy in the tin turned out to be wrong, mostly since I took it out of the tin after coming back from the pub quiz, and it cooled off overnight with a covering towel to prevent curious cats from investigating too closely*.

Half the cake had gone by half ten

Facebook Sidebar Adverts
     These seem to be generated by a new algorithm, as the ones promoting nubile young ladies who were - excuse the vulgarism but nothing else is really appropriate - "gagging for it" with older men have vanished.  The adverts for incontinence pants and catheters have similarly declined.  Now one of these bizarre forms of advertising is focussing on Conrad with the headline "New fluid credit card".
     How the hell are you going to fit it into a card reader at the till in Asda?
     Someone here needs shooting, or at least being put in the bin.

                                                "New Fluid Credit Card"

 

See!  Conrad is not delusional!

A Little Musical Critique

     Don't worry Simon and Garfunkel - you get your turn tomorrow.  Today we focus on The Klaxons, a bright young alternative band with a distinct busy, chaotic and muddy production style, and one song entitled "Gravity's Rainbow"**.  Let us proceed.

 

Come on with me through ruined liplock

(Not sure about the ruined. "Liplock" - a superglue accident?) Across Tangian deserts we'll flock

(I couldn't find "Tangian" or "Tangi" in the atlas. Could they mean Greater Yarmouth?)
 Madcap Medusa flank my foghorn

(Madcap Medusa, hair, head, snakes, yes very clever!  The rest sounds horribly smutty)
 We'll change four seasons with our first born.

(How, exactly - are they going to be a weatherman?)

All ships of sense on hyper ocean

(Ships, dear Klaxons, are made of steel.  Not sense.  Also, can't find the "Hyper" ocean in my atlas.  Do they mean the Gulf of Ob?) All kinds of chaos still in motion

(This is confusing.  Is the chaos still or is it moving?) My culture vulture such a dab hand

(They're a Medusa, not a bird! And are they referring to Digital Audio Broadcast?) I'll steal you from the year 4000

(No you won't, time-travel hasn't been invented yet!)

     That's enough of that.  Also, none of it has anything to do with Gravity's Rainbow, the utter cheek of this band!  Conrad may visit this song again tomorrow for more critique.

Klaxons.  Close enough

 

 

"Stranger Than Fiction"

     This, gentle reader, is a film that Conrad thinks he started to watch a couple of years back, but didn't persist with and so doesn't know how it ends.

     What is the plot, Conrad hears you ask - literally, he's in the next room to you with a glass to the wall - of this intriguingly titled film?

     It begins with our hapless Everyman hero, who begins to hear a narrative that describes his life as he lives it, until he realises the horrifying truth: he is merely a character in a novel that someone else has written.

     That might be a bit of a shock to the system - it's not what you expect when you get out of bed in the morning, is it?  right up there with falling into a pit of hellfire*** or experiencing alien attack^.

      What makes it worse is that our hero finds out that the author who wrote him into existence is going to kill him off in the novel.

     O noes!

 

"Fiction" by the Comsat Angels.  Why is this here?
I bloody love this album, it's my blog, the end.

     So he tries to meet the author to convince her not to kill him.

     At this point Conrad's impressions of what should happen as opposed to what does happen are fundamentally different.  The author wrote him into being, so why doesn't he ask her to write him up as a super-powered crimefighter?  Or World Super Dictator?  Or the inventor who builds a faster-than-light starship?  Or the agronomist who solves world hunger? Or - but you get the idea.

     Somehow Conrad feels a fantastic opportunity for a fantasy has died the death.  Perhaps he should watch the damned film.

 

 

*  You may gag at this, but they once wee'd on a cooling tin of chocolate brownies

**  Gravity's Rainbow - a major work by Thomas Pynchon

*** "The End Of The World"

^ "Independence Day" - just like today, July 4th is - how very ironic!