I spend a lot of time on YouTube, probably more time than I spend watching telly, but what really gets on my tits is their recommended channels. I’ve received 100’s of these so called recommendations and not one of them has been in my sphere of interests. They claim to fine tune the suggested channels on my rejection but all I can say is their algorithms must be shite because the the next set of recommendations are just as bad. Surely the channels I’m already subscribed to are a clue to what I like or is that too obvious.
Winter is over. I have no meteorological evidence of this it’s just that I’m fed up of freezing my nuts off and have issued a dictum to that affect. Okay we can all now start to think of going outside and actually enjoying ourselves but no mention of fucking gardening please.
On Tuesday I decided it was about time I blew away my winter cobwebs and headed out of Rugby for a bit of culture at the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery. I enjoy looking at the odd painting but most of the collection there failed to inspire me. Just not my cup of tea I’m afraid. The Staffordshire Hoard, housed at the museum, is a different kettle of fish though. With the tools available around 1400 years ago how the hell did they make some of that stuff. When I got home I was knackered. I checked my iPhone and found I had walked over 7 miles! My next trip out will involve less walking and more looking at the scenery from a train methinks.
What the fuck is that all about. I get an uncontrollable urge to laugh whenever a photographer or model use the phrase. Does your house have a boudoir? Do you know anyone who lives in a house with a boudoir? Very unlikely. Let’s just cut through the arty-farty bullshit and call it what it really is. Wishy-washy soft porn.