Little Roy covers Nirvannas 'Come as you are'

Ed Sheeran-cool ginge kid

http://www.xfm.co.uk/onair/sessions/xfm-session-ed-sheeran
His acoustic session on xfm was great, listen to whatever but 'you need me' is the best in my opinion.
Class.

Today has been the happiest day of my life

This just makes me so happy, Praise You Fatboy Slim

Leaf art

I like turtles

I know Im late and stuff but...

Sebastian Faulks- A Week In December

Admittedly, I was slightly nervous when I picked up this novel. I didnt really think I was into those which were 'a satirical comment about metropolitan life', I preferred good old fashioned novels which had characters I could cling too. But how my presumptions were wrong. This novel, set in London, 2007 on the cusp of the recession follows the week of several characters who try and keep their grasp of reality. It is so well rounded in its description of London life, from teenagers picking at Islamist theories to the character's escapisms; reality TV, second life internet games and skunk, to villainous London cyclists. 

I would recommend this book to someone who perhaps had a bit of time to read, reflect and remember, there are tricks, disorientating scene jumps. This book to be ambitious, yet sucessful, although a second reading would do it justice. Nonetheless I really did enjoy this and Faulks has surley proven himself.

The Apprentice review

For me The Apprentice series final with the interviews by the Sugar's chosen few was great. The orchestrated character assassinations where typos of self adorning cliches sparks a verbal slap in the face. Its like watching kick boxing in slow motion.
And the best of it all is the "Praise Lord Sugar the Almighty" I hear from the chorus of the contestants. They seem to have a respect for him as if he were a deity. The show has dolled him up in do many ways to show this, the ghostly hand reaching through the glass doors to the boardroom, the pan of portrait shot with a lion's growl or even the "Yes, Lord Sugar," said in unison by his loyal subjects. Having said that I'm sure that in real life he isn't the dragon he is perceived to be.
What else I find great is the disapproving glances from Karen and Nick, their facial expressions and gestures provide an overrunning commentary, and from this I have learnt that sometimes when I feel a little unsure of something I have done, I can see a pan out onto Nick, his eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed.
But how could I discuss my highlights without including Sunday's winner, Tom? I thought that even though he didn't seem able to sell nor organise people, he was quite talented at inventing the leading concept or the unique selling point. Even though the others seemed to have commendable attributes, the good guy won.

RIP Lucian Freud

Lucien Freud passed away yesterday aged 88. Form this heartsinking news it has come to my attention to explain why his life and work has meant so much to me. Freud's life has been pretty remarkable. He was born into an infamous family, his father Sigmund who fathered several children and found feeling in his artwork, who could manipulate paint in no other way that the first time I saw one of his work he bought a tear to my eye, and told stories with his work-something that I believe deserves great respect. 

I hope his work will be celebrated posthumously.

Follow the yellow brick road

My favourite film when I was small was Alice in Wonderland. Perhaps it was because of the fun of it, but moreover since Ive grown up Ive found that it has much more depth than a fairytale. As you follow the yellow brick road through life, and ask as many lions and scarecrows to help you find Oz, you may not realise that ultimately, if you really really want to achieve your dreams just like Dorothy really really wanted to go home back to Aunt Em, she realised that it was in her capability of tapping her shoes together.
I spose this may seem a bit irrelevant to you as much as it is to me, but really there are only so many people you can ask to help you along the way until you find your own feet to walk upon.
You can do it.

Tnetennba

A man walks out of a bar

Take that society

"Outside a dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside a dog it is too dark to read."

Groucho Marx

No, no this one

The week

This week has proved how hard core I am.

1. Cycled in the rain and almost drowned. But I didnt!
2. I've began using the word 'gallivanting' 
3. I fainted
4. Now I have a scar on my face, perfectly timed for the release of the final Hp. Basically I was fighting a known nemesis
5. Ive been asked for my number by someone Ive only met once
6. Made a couple of new friends who are great
7. Thought I was going to die on a ride at Thorpe Park 
8. Conquered my fear of the dark
9. Bought my first business suit, for my internship at Number One Canada Square and sixth form
10. Been insulted by my mother for having a face like a monkey
11. Gotten really into Gossip Girl
12. Git the whole drunken 'I love you' speech
13. I now know two more hilarious jokes (another time)
14. Made bacon sandwiches
15. Made some decisions about my future

This is my summer song- Foster the people

Techno fan Acoustic

Questions raised

http://www.denofgeek.com/television/921538/doctor_who_pondering_amy_pond.html

Le Cafe

What would you say if I changed my look a bit?

Dear the internet.
The purpose of this post is to tell you that you are not with me for much longer. This is because for one, I'm going to get even more busy (that I should be) and also because I'm going to put all my time and efforts into making art and wonderful things for you to see. This will be on my new blog! http://lauramadeanartblog.blogspot.com Which I hope will be successful, but it will be for the whole internet to view my art, and hopefully for people to comment on it, so I can get some constructive criticism or whatever.
I've put up a bit of my work, so enjoy!

Do it

http://www.nigella.com/recipes/view/hot-cross-buns-3216

Elbow-Lippy Kids

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis

is one of the longest words in the English dictionary.

Stolen!

James Vincent McMorrow - This Old Dark Machine

Boogie

So this is where they hide

So recently I went out to dinner with my family, the restaurant was pleasant, atmospheric with a collection of those from an earlier rugby match. We had made a reservation, the waiter checked his notepad and we were led to our table through a flurry of conversation, wine being poured in generous quantities and food being devoured.
 We were seated in view of the bar, with many bottles of suspiciously bright alcoholic drinks, cups and saucers in rotation from the dishwasher to a cloth to a shelf and then to be filled with coffee fresh from a machine, which seemed rather industrial in the sense that it had been pumping out coffee all day, the chorus of steam and frothy milk was not unknown to the bartender.
The moment I sat down a menu slid in front of me, I was lost in moules... confit de canard... boeuf bourguignon and steak frites. The waiter danced to our table, peculiar, the way they move, like finches around foliage they have an inward sense of direction, they are almost programmed to know their route around the room. The waiter surveyed the rest of tables and flitted of to a table besides us. Moments later he was back, I gazed at him in disbelief, I definitely recognized him, but from where?
He looked as if he was custom built, an article of a perfect species of a man, sharp jaw bones and an expression of discipline and direction. He was tall, so tall in fact that he was probably the monster that stacked the wine bottles high up on the shelves behind the bar. And his hands, those great sculpted hands were as big as spades but as nimble as a lead violinist delicately playing his Stradivarius. I heard my name being called and I was forced out of a trance of wonderment to place my order. I picked the first thing I saw and then followed it up with, "sorry, you just reminded me of a character in a film," with a little awkward smile.
This was of course not true, I could not tell him the truth, the truth that I had unwillingly realised. He was an exact modern day replica of an Aryan subject of some Nazi propaganda I once saw in a history lesson.

Sorry for being so unattentive

Hey, sorry I havent been making blogs recently, although Im not sorry at all because most of you guys, unless there is something I dont know, know me in real life and get to appreciate my awesomeness in reality. Ok here it is, I havent been making blogs recently because I have been busy:
Spending a little too much time watching Tim Minchin videos on youtube-http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u_ElXYzFX_w&feature=related.
Making pancakes (this is actually a lie, I havent celebrated pancake day in any shape or form)
Growing garlic
Eating as much chocolate as I can before tomorrow :/
Questioning the answer to a very unfunny joke that I may tell you at another time
Worrying that I might be turning into a swan like in 'Black Swan '
Experimenting with drugs and loitering in public areas like many of my fellow youths these days
Reading 'To Kill a Mockingbird'

Not all of these things are true

Tim Minchin- Canvas Bags

SHUTUP SHUTUP SHUTUP

FML best

"Today, my boyfriend snuck into my house and hid in my closet. Knowing that I have a phobia of people jumping out of closets, he nonetheless thought it would be funny to see how I'd react. I had a panic attack and was taken to the hospital. Thanks babe. FML"

"Today, I was fired. My boss told me via email that it was because I "don't have enough experience with fun spiritual." Uh, what? FML"

"Today, while on MSN, I received a touchy-feely message from an unknown sender. Thinking it was my friends playing a prank on me, I replied, "WHO DA F*CK IS THIS?!" Let's just say I won't be looking my grandmother in the eye again for a while. FML"

"Today, my boyfriend proposed to me. Everything was going perfectly, right up until he brought me back to his house to tell his family the good news. When I excused myself to the restroom, I overheard his mom say, "I thought you were going to break up with that stupid slut?" Welcome to the family. FML"


"Today, my therapist told me to write down my secrets in an envelope and symbolically burn them. My secrets included stories of my rampant sex life, drugs, a suicide attempt, and the hatred I have for my family. I've managed to misplace the envelope somewhere back home. FML"


"Today, I spent an hour deleting 70 of my status posts from the past week so I don't look so addicted to Facebook. Damn, I need a life. FML"


"Today, I threw up in the car. While driving. The good news though, I had a bag to catch it all. Bad news? The bag had a giant hole in the bottom. FML"


"Today, after some passionate love making with my husband, I accidentally farted on his leg. He shrieked and frantically began shaking his leg while screaming, "Get it off! Get it off!" FML"


"Today, I had to fake fall down the stairs so my mom would stop texting and actually pay attention to what I was saying. FML"


"Today, I was babysitting a little girl. We were colouring, and she told me she wanted to draw a picture of me.After she was done, she showed me the picture. I'm drawn as a fat cow. The worst part is, the picture actually looks kinda like me. FML"


"Today, my boyfriend walked in on me in the bathroom. That's how he found out that I wax my nipples. FML"


"Today, I went to the doctor thinking I had breast cancer. Turns out, I have a third boob. FML"


"Today, my cat tried to kill me. While I was sleeping, he put his paws on either side of my face and laid down, covering my nose and mouth. While I was struggling to free myself, I could hear my sister laughing next to me.FML"

Tate Britain

There are two types of people who visit the Tate Britain. The first type is a couple, late on in life, visiting London for the weekend to get away from the strain of life in their Hampshire manor. They have left their acres of land, their horses and have visited the Tate to look at paintings of acres of land and horses. They are a man and woman, the man has white hair, is a retired city worker, wears a knee length black coat over a suit, a uniform perhaps, with the exception of some fun in the tie department. The woman has teeth too large for her mouth, pearls and glasses that are at angle. She has probably lost any sense of smell from the strength of her perfume, and her blood red nails could take a wandering tourist out with a flash.
The second kind of person is most likely on 'vacation' from the States. They would be carrying a rucksack with millions of unnecessary pockets, and they would have a Nikon strapped around their neck. Their voices would carry for miles as they paw at a post box or black cab, or when they wonder at how the tube works.
After a morning of shuffling along in the gallery, they would end up at the gift shop.
The common gift shop, for those who have never visited a region with more than 100 people in it, is an infinite supply of tat. For the case of the Tate Britain, it is flooded with postcards and branded pencils.
The first couple would enjoy throwing money at the cashiers for something unnecessary and that would end up in a small dark corner of their mansion; perhaps a psychedelic Bridget Riley poster or a minimalist coffee table.
The second couple would appreciate the postcards or guides to London. In fact they would buy anything as long as it has 'Tate Britain' stamped on it in big red letters.
Next stop is lunch. This is odd in the Tate Britain because after a walk down a corridor, you have to chose which room you belong to; the cafe or the restaurant. The cafe is for the pauper, it is the last resort for the first couple, no they would despise sitting among the scum of London, the tramps and beggars where the only option is a disgraceful cheese sandwich glugged down with tap, yes that is right, TAP water. The restaurant, however, where you could chose between Lobster souffle or devilled kidneys is a place for the sane and well mannered.
Tate tate tate tate tate tate

I am a photographer too.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/42255347@N03/

Appreciated

It would be quite obnoxious of me to send a message across the internet thanking those who give up their time to  read my posts and look at my art, when I don't even know half of you. But I am chuffed, especially when I see my blog is travelling far and wide, to countries I have never stepped a foot in.
Ta, for those who give up their time, when the probably should be doing something else, (you're not alone, that is the reason why I began this!) and if I could give one piece of advice, I think that everyone should write a blog, even if it is to put the most pointless stuff on, because a blog is like a microphone, and it spreads your message far and wide.
I hope I have achieved my aim, which is to be memorable in my message and most of all to make everyone's days that bit better.

Over and out.

David Bowie - Life On Mars?

Happy Valentine's Day

Not going to pretend I made this, it was my mum.

Daphne- Stanley Spencer

Acrylic on sugar paper A3

This is me.

Acrylic on cartridge paper

Girl With the Pearl Earring- Jan Vermeer

Drowning in the shower.

"I'm going to have a shower now, If I'm not back in twenty minutes, I may have drowned," I told my brother yesterday. After realising the pointlessness of that comment I went to get on with my duties in the bathroom, leaving my brother in a state of wonderment.

I call that pointless because telling my brother that I might drown is pointless; he probably wouldn't give a whisker's tinkle even though I may have just defied that laws of the universe by drowning in the shower.

A Number Behind Perfection

Φ = 1.618 033... . Our attraction to someone increases if their face is in proportion, and follows the golden ratio.

This means that when the sum of a and b is divided by the larger part, a, it gives the same number, a multiple of 1.618033... as when a is divided by b. This can be repeated for any number and it will always give the same ratio.

This face is seen as attractive because it follows the golden rule, you could take from the hair line to the bottom of the nose as a and from the bottom of the nose to the bottom of the chin as b.

Leonardo da Vinci found this in his Vitruvian Man, taking the length from the belly button to the footas a, and from the belly button to the head as b.

I think this explains it a lot more.

http://blog.echoenduring.com/2010/07/31/imperfect-perfection-the-golden-ratio/

What I overheard

I just watched a documentary bailing out banks, and there was an interview with a woman, betrayed into giving out her money to greedy bankers. Taken for a fool. To her upmost anger she exclaimed, "I put my money in Northern Rock! It is Northern. It is a ROCK!"
I think television is being dumbed down...

Pork sausage and apple pie

So I've decided to start putting recipies on my blog, because I think that cooking is such a wonderful thing, but many people look over it because they think that it is terrible complicated and on parr with rocket science. I beg to differ and so I will provide my followers with handy recipes and ideas.


So to start of, I was going through an old recipe book and was intrigued by this little something. Sausage and apple pie? Mind=blown. Oh and before I start, this is a savoury pie.


Ingredients:
A 400g packet of Jus Roll puff pastry
450g good quality pork sausage meat, or just sausages
3-4 sage leaves
Nutmeg
3 eating apples
1 egg yolk
Salt and pepper


Half the pastry and roll both pieces out into shapes vaguely recognisable as squares on a floured surface. Then, press it into a 21-23cm round pie plate.
If you bought sausage meat, spread it out over the base, if you bought sausages, don't worry, well you might have to because this next step is greusome; squeze the sausage meat out of the tubing it comes in.
Scatter the sage leaves over it and season lightly with salt, pepper and nutmeg.
Peel, core and cut up the apples and place them on the meat.
With the remaining pastry, form a lid. It is okay if there is some excess pastry, because you can roll it up to for a crust around the rim.
Poke a couple of holes in the lid and brush the beaten egg wash over the top.
Chill in the fridge for half an hour.
Put a baking tray in the centre of the oven and pre-heat 220°C/425°F/Gas 7.
Brush the pastry with the remaining egg wash and pop it in the oven on the baking tray so it gets an instant blast of heat. After 15 minutes, reduce the heat to 180°C/350°F/Gas 4 and cook for a futhur 30-40 minutes.
Test with a skewer to see if the apples are tender and the meat has been properly cooked.
Serve with a choice of potatoes and some vegetables. 


Done

James Blake- Limit to your love

Just something.

Something very, very strange happened to me today.

Today is 11/1/11 and after a recommendation from a friend I searched iTunes to buy a song.

To my surprise my iTunes account contain £11.11.

Not in the slightest bit suspicious...

What scares me.

I'm scared that one day my eye sight will get really bad not even glasses will be able to cure it.

I'm scared that Jehovah's witnesses will get into my house.

I'm scared that I'll wake up with a dagger on my pillow and dead bodies at the foot of my bed and know nothing.

I'm scared that one day I'll lose all my creative juices and write boring blogs about financial growth.

I'm scared that one day my family and friends won't recognise me.

I'm scared that I'll be like everyone else.

I'm scared that I'll hurt someone really badly.

I'm scared that I'll have no future career and I'll opt for the prostitution.

I'm scared that my feet will fall off due to cold weather.

I'm scared that I'll never see snow again.

I'm scared that my brother will turn evil normal.

I'm scared that I'll never see blue sky or the sun, just clouds.

I'm scared that I'll wake up with a ladybird on my nose.

I'm scared that I'll get so spoilt Ill take the smaller things for granted.

I'm scared that in the future everyone will become so narrow minded they wont accept people who are the tiniest bit different to them.

I'm scared that people who read this blog will find out through scrutinising tiny details where I live, get offended by something or another and find me and savagely kill me. Or bow down at my feet.

I'm scared that Ill forget how to be happy.

I'm scared that this post will go on forever and my blog will get a bad name as being the rambling thoughts of a half maniac.

4 Chord Song

Alternative New Year Resolutions to anger other people

• If you have a glass eye, occasionally tap it with your pen whilst talking to other people.
• Push all the flat lego pieces together tightly.
• Start each meal by conspicuously licking all your food, and announce that this is so no one will "swipe your grub".
• Leave the scanner set to reduce by 200%, extra dark, 17 inch paper, 98 copies.
• Reply to what everyone says with "That's what you think".
• Signal that a conversation is over by clamping your hands over your ears.
• Shout random numbers whilst someone else is counting.
• Drum on every surface available.
• Publicly investigate just how slowly you can make "croaking" noises.
• Repeat everything someone says as a question.
• Write "X- BURIED TREASURE" at random spots on maps.
• Wander around restaurants asking others for some parsley.
• Publicly pretend to be on the search for some invisible demon, asking every other person you see if they have seen one.
• As much as possible, skip rather than walk.
• Sit on the pavement, and point your hair dryer at cars to see if they slow down.
• Sing along to the opera.
• Never break eye contact.
• Invite lots of random people to other people's parties.

This took me hours