WHAT SINGLE PEOPLE SHOULD DO ON VALENTINES DAY

It's almost Valentines Day which means if you're single, couples will become even more annoying, you'll become clinically depressed and if you're lucky, you might even projectile vomit over all the lovey-dovey paraphernalia available. If you're not single, you can buy me ice cream to make it up to me. Being single on Valentines Day sucks and blows, and not in a good way. Here is a list of things to do on Valentines Day if you're single:

• Murder.
• Get wasted drunk with a selected group of single friends.
• Watch horror films.
• Chain smoke in your room until you sound like Shirley from Eastenders.
• DON'T WATCH BRIDGET JONES.
• Watch cartoons
• Try out something new. Opt-out for a ready meal lasagne instead of shepherds pie.
• Make Vodoo Dolls of your ex-boyfriends or ex-girlfriends and let your dominant alter-ego spread it's wings.
• Eat
• Eat some more.
• Ice cream is good.
• Host a gang bang for a recently paroled group of men.
• Get flowers delivered to yourself in a public area but make sure you put 'From Zac Efron' on the card.
• Go shopping
• Murder.

But maybe I'm just bitter?

FASHION REVIEW: TEEN CHOICE AWARDS 2013

Last night the annual 'Teen Choice Awards' were held in Los Angeles and tweens and teen watched their favourite celebrities win pointless awards that means nothing compared to a Grammy. So I decided with my extent knowledge on fashion (This is sarcasm, I'm wearing a onsie), that I would review this years fashion fresh from the blue carpet. Also, this is my last year as a teenager so I want to eat this shit up before it becomes pathetic (I'm looking at you Perez Hilton).

Cher Lloyd wearing a two piece by 'The Hellers'. I REALLY like this. Is this outfit her public apology for 'Swagger Jagger'? If so, I formally accept this apology Cher.

You should not be wearing those trousers and it looks like you've put a button in the wrong hole on your blazer. The hair is okay though I guess. (Demi Lovato)

THEY ARE ALL SO CUTE I JUST WANT TO SWALLOW THEM WHOLE. But Perrie needs to understand that Zayn Malik is mine.

Miley Cyrus wearing Saint Lauren. I love it, but WE GET IT, YOU'RE A REBEL.

Oh my boys. You can all form a line and sit on my face. Harry, what is on your head? (One Direction, OBVZ)

Selena Gomez wearing Cushine et Ochs. I don't think I should like it, but I do. I DO.

Literal Pop Analysis: Best Song Ever.

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder." Therefore, I decided to turn into a failed pop star and hide away by not blogging for a while, only to have the blogging equivalent of a VMA performance comeback. I'm back and ready to review music because I am a globally known music journalist as most of you know (not really).

One Direction are back with a new single for their new film 'This Is Us'. Instead of being boring and saying whether the song is brilliant (it is) or not, I am going to analyse this song to death. Are you prepared? I feel like you're not. It is advised that you are sitting comfortably and if you're a straight girl or gay boy then put your hand down your crotch cause its One Direction time.

The song overall is pretty much standard One Direction. There's a lot of guitar and drum usage and it's about a girl (*eye roll*) they meet on a night out and they danced all night to a particular song they claim to be 'the best song ever'. Ironically they don't know it goes, but they do remember a certain part with no lyrical meaning (must of been a good night). Serious question time; thoughout their entire discography and song selection, do they sing about the same girl within a particular song? Are they sharing the same girl? Are they singing about individual girls? Is Zayn singing about that slag from Little Mix (I'm not bitter)? Is Harry singing about Caroline Flack? These are all questions that are gagging for answers.

Moving on. To make this a literal review we need to analyse the lyrics. Here is a bullet pointed list of some lyrics and what I think of them:

• "Said her name was Georgia Rose, and her Daddy was a Dentist." - Now, on a night out has anyone you've pulled EVER told you their parents career path? I feel like that would be maybe a second date statement. Also did she say this directly after she introduced herself as Georgia Rose? If so, that's ver strange isn't it?
• "Said I has a dirty mouth, but she kissed me like she meant it." - Ooh Harry, you saucy little minx.
• "I said can I take you home with me, she said never in your wildest dreams" - At least this bitch has morals, although who would say no to someone from One Direction? I take this whole 'moral' thing back. She's a stupid hoe. Also, this song is turning from a PG to a 12 very quickly, isn't it?
• "We danced all night to the best song ever, we knew every line, now I can't remember how it goes" -It probably wasn't that good then, was it?
• "I think it went Oh Oh Oh, I think it went Yeah Yeah Yeah" - Enough thinking. Uncle Jack is going to help One Direction remember this 'Best Song Ever', because it's annoying me that they don't know what it is.

JACK RATTENBURY'S 'BEST SONG EVER' SUGGESTIONS

 Maybe it was Lady Gaga's Oh Oh Oh's in 'Bad Romance' that got those gay boys dancing?

Maybe it was the Yeah Yeah Yeah's in Chris Brown's 'Yeah 3x'.

Maybe it's the magical Oh Oh Oh's in the better version of Pilot's classic 'Magic' by Selena Gomez.

Or maybe they were just playing with us, and they're talking about their new song 'Best Song Ever.'

There you have it. My literal, overly-analytical review of One Direction's new single 'Best Song Ever' (available on iTunes now) is over. Before I go, can we appreciate how amazing the video is. Zayn Malik, I have one thing to say to you.

Confidence can lead to a shag.

Our three day British summer has come and gone, the remains of my summer glow is slowly fading and I feel fucking fantastic. So my tan may have faded a little, but my post-British summer positive mental attitude is very much still intact. Funnily enough, the glow on my face made me confident which made me more attractive to boys. What are the chances? Who'd have known that all I needed was a bit of self-confidence and a smile to get more boys gathered around me like blind lesbians at the fish mongers. I am now (relatively) the 'Catch of the Day'.

Even though I am still nineteen years old, I have decided to rediscover my freshers youth. I had a bit of a dry spell when it came to going out clubbing as I would have much rathered staying in my little halls of residence room with a bottle of red wine and Netflix. I always got fucked up whenever I went out which would ruin my sleeping pattern until the next time I went out, which would repeat the process. So, I went a bit anti-student and had a little party detox, bar a couple of trips to G-A-Y, because no-one can say no to £1.70 a drink.

But I am still a teenager for one more year so I decided to act like it. When the sun came out, the alcohol cravings began. I got all my friends together and decided to get absolutely fucked. Living in London, I have no fucking idea what to do when a spontaneous alcoholic outing occurs. I find myself googling things like 'best student nights out in London' or 'the best gay nightclubs in London' and go from there. Even though this occasionally works sometimes, we usually end up in a familiar place where we always go. But this night was different.

"You know it's a straight club, right?" my friend asked. "Perfect," I replied. During this point in my life (a whole three weeks ago), I was going through this awkward relationship with someone and didn't know what to do. I wanted to go out and dance, not find a fuck, considering for the past couple of months before hand, I had retired my dancing shoes.

Drinking my bottle of Blossom Hill Pinot grigio rosé in my new black skinny jeans on the tube, I had never felt more excited/clASSy to get off my face. I had a summer glow and a new outfit causing me to walk into this night club like Roxxxy Andrews walking into the work space on RuPaul's Drag Race series five. I felt good, I was smiling and I wasn't even thinking about the end of night McDonald's, which is usually always on my mind.

Even though I promised myself to stay away from guys, the moment I walked into this club I noticed the cutest boy, around my age ordering a drink. About four hours later he was taking me home on the night bus. This usually never happens to me, and if it does, I usually blame it on the other person feeling sorry for my friends because I used to get too drunk. We didn't have sex, but we could of. In fact, with this relationship I'm currently in going a bit tits up, now I wish I did have a joint party in our pants.

The moral to this overly-long blog post is to have fun, feel confident and smile whenever jizz is involved. Being cute is a way of being (I'm being sarcastic, do whatever you want).

FASHION REVIEW: MET GALA.

I'm sitting in my room wearing my Tigger pajamas, giving me avant-garde realness that makes me more than suitable to review the fashion mishaps at this years Met Gala. I'm not sure what exactly the Met Gala is but I think it's an exhibition/party that goes on every year and a lot of celebrities make too much effort to impress other celebrities. This years theme was punk, so I probably should add a playlist full to the brim of punk edginess, but I'm gay so that's not going to happen. So instead, here are some tunes that I love, that are closest to the genre 'punk' I will ever get.

OK SO HERE WE GO

 My head hurts hunny. I need some eye protection to look at you. It's cute though. (Beyoncé in Givenchy)

It's so nice to see the winning horse from this years Grand National has become quite the socialite. Looks like he's had some work done on his mane too. (Sarah Jessica Parker in Giles Deacon and Phillip Tracey)

That baby needs to come out of her fucking womb so she can look cute wearing clothes again. (Kim Kardashian in Riccardo Tisci)

Honestly, I just screamed with terror. (Madonna in Givenchy)

WE GET IT. YOU'RE A 'REBEL' (Miley Cyrus in Marc Jacobs)

Sign my adoption papers already. This is how Miley Cyrus SHOULD look. PS Your tits are almost out. (Anne Hathaway in Valentino)

She doesn't look half bad for once. In fact, if I was on RuPaul's Drag Race, I would work this dress. (Katy Perry in Dolce and Gabanna) 

Speaking of RuPaul's Drag Race. Why was Roxxxy Andrews there? She didn't even win. (JLo in  Micheal Kors)

She looks confused. So do I. (Gwyneth Paltrow in Valentino Couture) (That was very sexy to type)

Dealing with Panic Attacks and Anxiety

This is going to be a different blog post to what you're used to, but I hope that this will help at least one person because anxiety is one of the most horrible psychological feelings you can go through. If you're kind enough to read my blog whenever I create a new post, you know me as the teenage alcoholic going through a late-teen crisis when it comes to love and Zayn Malik obsession. But all my life I've suffered with mild anxiety and over the past couple weeks, I've been having real bad panic attacks and feel like I'd share with you how I cope with it.

A lot of people assume that if you're confident or happy for the majority of the time you're with that person, that you're confident and happy 100% of the time, have no self esteem issues and are pretty much stable. But there are a lot of dark, stormy clouds in the metaphorical summer of the mind. Anxiety and panic attacks are terrifying. Talking about them is terrifying. Blogging about this makes me feel uber uncomfortable because thinking about panic attacks makes me, well, panic.

I'm not exactly sure what triggered my anxiety, and I can't remember my first panic attack. But recently, I've had panic attacks that last for hours in little spurts. I feel alone during this time, even if I have friends around me supporting me. I feel alone and scared. You get really warm and start sweating like a menopausal bitch, but at the same time you can feel coldness. It's very unpleasant and once they start, all sorts of emotions and feelings like adrenaline, illness and unhappiness all come at once. I wouldn't even wish for Spencer from Made in Chelsea to have a panic attack (but I would punch him in the face).

Panic attacks feel like they are cock blocking your life. You want to do things, but are scared to do them just in case you have a panic attack. If you've had a panic attack in a certain place, you're more likely to have a panic attack in a similar situation. So you need to try and break the mold. Go to these places with people that love you and hold their hand. If it's a nightclub, go to a nightclub sober with friends until you're comfortable enough to get shitfaced and not have a panic attack. Personally, for me I used to have them in primary school all the time, or just randomly when I go to sleep.

The main thing you need to do if you're having a panic attack is contact someone. If you're with a friend, tell them immediately. If you're not, go to get your phone and ring someone. A familiar voice or face can really help you keep calm. But the person with you has to stay calm also. They should never be forceful or make assumptions about your needs. The person just needs to ask every now and again if you're feeling okay. If you're with someone having a panic attack, be calm, be supportive and reassuring.

Panic Attacks will not ruin your life if you don't make them. You can let them be a huge part of your life or you can do something about it. If you need help and suffer with really bad panic attacks, make sure you go and see a doctor, even if you're not sure. There are drugs that can help you and even though it is classed as a 'mental illness', it does not make you abnormal or anything of the sort. Panic attacks are actually a lot more common than people think and there are a lot of people that have severe anxiety. There are therapy groups or personal therapy that can make a huge difference in helping you cope with anxiety. Exercise isn't really a word in my vocabulary, but sometimes if I feel a bit panic-y then I go for a jog around the block. Get something to take your mind off things. Most importantly, do not do this alone. Do not lock yourself in your room and stay away from things that you think may trigger a panic attack. Surround yourself with lovely people and talk to them about it. They WILL be a lot more understanding than you think they will.

This blog post was really hard for me to post and I am very sorry for not being up-to-date on my blogging. It's been a hard couple of weeks but I promise to be blogging about fashion and crotches on a more than weekly basis very soon. If this helps even one person I will not regret posting this as it's been a very hard hour and a half behind this computer screen. If you go through some of the things I've talked about and don't know who to talk to, please don't hesitate to ask me something on my Tumblr or direct message me on my Twitter. In the words of Micheal Jackson, you are not alone.

Girls are not Aloud.

I can't speak french comprehend how saddened I am about Girls Aloud officially splitting up. Soon after their last tour date in Liverpool last night, a tweet appeared on the Girls Aloud twitter saying:

" Dear Alouders, we just want to say from the bottom of our hearts Thank you!! This tour has been an amazing experience and the perfect chance to say thank you for being on this journey with us through a decade. It has far exceeded any of our dreams and we hope we are forever your inspiration and reminder that dreams really do glitter!! Your love and support will stay with us forever but we have now come to the end of our incredible time together . Love you lots."

So I would just like to say on behalf of all the gays, girls and straight men who love pop music. We love you too.  The pop world will be a very upsetting place without you because lets face it, you had some UNTOUCHABLE tunes. I have three words for you. Call. The. Shots.

There's no denying that the girls are going to be fine on their own. They're all fucking minted. Plus all of the girls except Sarah, have released solo music and in my opinion, they should carry on. Some better (Cheryl and Nicola) than others (Nadine and Kimberly). It's time for SOMETHING NEW from the girls (I'm sorry).

Here is a Spotify playlist of my favourite Girls Aloud songs (basically all the singles plus 'On The Metro' twice).

Wankr's on Grindr

Grindr is described as a location-based dating app for gay men, so basically it's a hookup/one night stand/dick pic app. There are over five million users worldwide who spend, on average, ninety minutes of their day browsing through profiles of other gay men who'd like to chat, meet or blow. To most gay men with the app it's a serendipity, but to me it's a nightmare.

Most gays think I'm stupid for hating Grindr, but it's just a glorified orgy. Not to mention it's full of pricks that are so picky in who they want to meet, it makes me want to vomit. Pretentious knobheads using the over-used phrase, 'no fems, no fats, no Asians'. Don't get me wrong, it can be great if you're single and want to find a potential dating partner, and I'm sure a lot of people have found love through the app and whatever. Unfortunately, the majority of people on there are looking for sex, and it creeps me out.

Curiosity has made me download this app so many times, shortly followed by me deleting it. When I decided to talk about Grindr on here I downloaded it and decided to open it in the heart of London's gay town. It took me sixty seconds to get someone's location to meet and have sexy time with (of course I didn't go). Me and my friend were scrolling through the profiles, sitting in SOHO Coffee Co. and saw taglines saying things like 'twink free zone', 'no fatties' and (my personal favourite) 'If your wrist is broken, don't even bother'. Call me old-fashioned, but I'd much rather go to a club and pull an absolute munter, than be a twat and have sex with a stranger that meets my tastes.

In my opinion, it gives gay men a bad name. Sex obsessed and happy enough to send a picture of their dong to a stranger. Of course I would never judge a person who meets for sex through the app, it's your life, and I know a lot of lovely people who use the app to find dates, or even just to chat. But it's not my cup of tea, although it is currently downloaded on my iPod. I guess it's just a source of entertainment for me. Here are some screenshots of some funny Grindr conversations about blow jobs.

Bikini Bottom of the Love Chain

Moving to London was one of the best decisions of my life, and like most Londoners, I have given serious and generous thought to the state of my flat should I get killed during the day. What if someone pushes me onto the underground tracks? Or if I accidentally blow up? Or if a lady with a pram studs my big toe making me fall in front of a double-decker bus? What then? After I get rushed to hospital and the sheets cover my face. After my funeral and all the cheese and pickle hedgehogs have been demolished. What will happen?

Back in my little room will be an unmade bed with my dishes still unwashed in the kitchen. The day I get shot in the corner shop (buying fags, naturally) will be laundry day with all my clothes on the floor, but I opted to watch 'Modern Family' all day in my onsie instead. I picture, quite frequently, my parents coming down to London to collect my things and clean out my room and they enter a room so disgusting that they'll actually be angry with me, even though I'll be six feet under.

Whilst my parents are discovering my huge collection of gay lifestyle magazines, and finding my giant stash of 54 condoms I took from the university nurse during freshers week. They will also probably come across my mini Spongebob Squarepants figure collection kept in a shoebox under my bed. There are about 8 mini figures that I have collected since my mid-teens. Every time I saw one of those toy vending machines that had a Spongebob inclusion, I wouldn't hesitate to waste a £2 coin, even if it was shiny. The sad thing about the collection is, that the most recent addition to the collection was only three weeks ago, when I saw a vending machine at a M4 services.

I'm not exactly sure how the Spongebob thing happend, but it has happened, and there's no going back now. I was quite a Spongebob fan as a youngster, but not in a way where I would ask my parents for paraphernalia. I guess I just like the fact that they're little and cute. Plus I always thought that if Spongebob was in office he would legalise gay marriage immediately. And thus the Spongebob shoebox came to be.

It's uncomfortable to admit, but I've been given Spongebob figures on two occasions by my past lovers. My ex-boyfriend back when I was in Wales gave me one on Valentines day. I know it seems like a pathetic gift in comparison to chocolate, but we'd only been seeing each other a week before V-Day. Then before Christmas, when someone came back to mine after a night out, he found the Spongebob collection. A week later I had a little gift from the same person, a limited edition, baywatch-esque, mini Spongebob figure. These figures are becoming a symbol that marks the beginning of a relationship. Kinda cute, right? But I was thinking last night, that the whole Spongebob thing is equally as cute as it is creepy. The Spongebob gift is the beginning of a romantic repertoire of private jokes within my relationships (which is how I think all relationships are focused on), and a chance for all my future boyfriends (every member of One Direction) to see how much of a slut I was before them. So I'm not sure what to do with the figures.

What if, these Spongebob figures, if by accident, come to represent the most overtly sentimental parts of my life? Because both relationships that had Spongebob gifts included, have ended, and ended badly. But I couldn't throw them away because I already had a collection before both relationships. They are my odd little secret, if you will.

Unfortunately the creepy overrides the sentimental and whilst writing this, I've put the Spongebob shoebox in the bin, and the bin is almost ready to go outside and into the skip. I created this ideology and now I need to uncreate it. When I fall down a montain, get trampled on by scaffolding or eaten by a Lion that escaped from London zoo, a shoebox will not represent my pathetic love life. The real proof that I was loved and did love could never fit in a converse box.

Love, dating and my sad, pathetic life.

For those who are new to this blog. Hello. I'm Jack. I'm 18 and I'm married to Shannen Doherty from the original Beverly Hills, 90210 with three kids. Well, this is not strictly true, although the essay I wrote when I was ten predicted I'd be married to a woman by 21, have a son at 24 and twin girls by the time I'm 30. Alas, I am a gay dude who's Facebook relationship status is single, and I have two years to find and marry Shannen Doherty.

Despite my desperation to find Zayn Malik, I've only ever had two gay relationships. One ended before coming to university last Summer, and the other with vodka (we're on a break, after what I can only describe as the worst hangover ever, sent from Hell) (I assume vodka is a boy, because it's so damn delicious). Because of my break-up with a boy I thought I'd be with for a long time ended, my bed has become my loving husband, and Netflix my harsh dominatrix of a mistress, demanding I devote all my time to watching The Hills and Jerseylicious (don't judge me).

The problem is I've not been a very good dater. The other night I decided to take someone out on a date. I was in charge of location, time, etc. and to be quite honest, it was lovely. We went for street food in Camden, followed by a cupcake accompanied walk to Primrose Hill, where we enjoyed hot chocolate and a chat, with the most amazing view of the London skyline. But now I don't know what to do or what to say.

I've spent nearly my entire teenage years in relationships with Troy Bolton, Justin Timberlake and Zack Morris from Saved by the Bell. My teenage years are almost over. I want to find someone that I can be myself around, have sexy times with, and do crosswords with whilst drinking a bottle of red. I really don't think I'll find this relationship in SoHo on a night out with my girls and gays. The only relationship you'll form from a night out in SoHo is with gonorrhea.

My problem is obvious. I'm not making the most of what I get. Cupid shoots the arrows and I go to surgically remove them. But I think this applies to all gay men. I've had two sexual experiences since coming to university. One of them included me bringing someone back to mine. It was just before Christmas and I really liked this person. I even cooked him oven chips for Christ's sake. If that doesn't scream true love, then I don't know what does. After getting the undercooked crumbs of the McCoys oven chips all over my sheets, we got a little frisky and had the best sleep ever resulting in a late for lecture fiasco with a quick digit exchange. After that, I didn't hear from him, and he didn't hear from me (if you're reading this, it's a bit fucking late now, and my apologies for not texting you). Maybe it's just my destiny to become a cat lady, which is fine and dandy with me because I spend 20% of my time youtubing cat videos, and another 20% looking for cat GIFS on tumblr. That's 40% guys. 40%.

This sad and pathetic blog posts calls for an intervention. I, Jack Rattenbury, am going to go on a second date this week. It's what Dame Lauren Conrad would want.

LET'S REVIEW THE BRIT AWARDS FASHION!!

The Brit Awards were held on Wednesday and to be honest, they were pretty shit. But there were some pretty dresses, and here is my judgement which you probably don't care about.

Here is Taylor Swift wearing one of my favourite outfits of the night. Hot diggigy gurl. You look fierce. Love how it's really classy but slutty at the same time. YOU GO TAY TAY.

Jessie J taking her song 'Do It Like A Dude' to a completely new level in Versace.

Paloma Faith in Dolce and Gabbana. Ugh I fucking love her so much. I adore this dress and I adore her. All hail Paloma Faith. *Tries to think of another way to say I love Paloma Faith.*

She is like a zit on your back that you can't reach, but the dress is okay. Emelie Sande, cannot find who she's wearing anywhere.

My mouth always bursts wide open whenever I see a picture of these boys, and not in shock. GIVE ME UR COCKS. One Direction looking gorgeous on the Brit red carpet.

Jessie Ware wearing Miu Miu. Ugh, she looks so amazing. I love the cropped top A LOT and the detail on the sleeve is a nice touch. So excited to see this bitch at Bestival. She can ditch that bag though.

Alexa Chung in Valentino. Before I start on the outfit, please get smaller shoes. Maybe I would like this if everyone else wasn't so dressed up. But I really don't. Can we all have a collective EW on three? 1.. 2.. 3.. 'EW'. Thank You. Kind Regards.

Lana Del Rey in Chanel. SO CUTE, but way too casual for the Brits. Plus she looks like she just saw her own dog be brutally murdered.

Justin Timberlake in Tom Ford. FUCK ME.

Rita Ora wearing Ulyana Sergeenko. I DO NOT KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT THIS DRESS. One side of my brain is telling me to be sick, but the other part tells me that she looks nice. Maybe she just pulls it off pretty well. Jesus, I need to go to church.

MY THING OF THE WEEK (Which isn't weekly anymore)

When I thought about doing this segment, I thought that it would be a very easy thing to do if I can't think of anything to write or I haven't had time to write anything good. But in fact, I was wrong, because this segment really isn't that interesting. A stranger that you hardly know telling you what they like suggesting that you check it out. It is pretentious as it sounds (who am I, Perez Hilton?). So this marks my last ever 'Thing of the Week (that isn't really weekly),' and this week it is (drum-roll please).

THE FOALS NEW ALBUM (I'm sorry gays). I hate myself for liking this. Here is one of my fave songs from the new album 'Holy Fire' (and their new single), called 'My Number'.

You're welcome.

I guess it's time to review some BAFTA fashion.

 

(David Attenborough voice) Here we have the only woman I'd turn straight for, in her natural habitat. Maybe I'm biased, but there are no flaws to be seen here. Anne Hathaway in a lovely Burberry frock. Gay men and straight women are questioning their private parts right now.

 Bradley Cooper can sit on my face and paddle my ears. Lovely Ferragamo suite too. Can we all have a collective 'Mmmm' please and thank you.

 

The best couple ever (Helena Bonham Carter and Tim Burton) looking slightly weird, but wonderful as always.

 

 Eddie Redmayne could punch me in the face, covered in shit and I would still get a raging boner from looking at him

Carrie Bradshaw would not approve. Looks like Sarah Jessica Parker wasn't one of the horses found in the Tesco value burgers.

 Samantha Barks was amazing in Les Miserables, she was born to be Eponine, but EW EW EW EW. Such a basic dress, her feet look weird and what the fuck is up with her hair? I know it was raining but get a fucking umbrella.

I love her, but she really needs to stop praising the rain. I WANT SOME SUN. (Helen Mirren)

So I'd give the fashion at the BAFTA's a 6/10 stars. Everyone looked lovely (ish), but did someone die? What's up with all the black? Whatever, I'm going to eat doritos now.

What I liked and what I didn't like - Beyonce's halftime show.

WHAT I LIKED

• The promotion

 

•  This

• When she danced with lots of Beyonce

• The Holy Trinity inclusion

• Treating them like backup singers and backup dancers

•  SHE SANG BABY BOY

• All the fucking fire

• Whipping her fans with her hair, because peasants can't touch her face.

 WHAT I DIDN'T LIKE

•  It was way too short
• There were only two special guests
• Michelle Williams is still around
• It was very short
• The opening act
• No new single
• It was short
• 10 FUCKING MINUTES???? 

Some exciting news!

This week I have started an internship at a pop music blog, but I'm not sure if I'm aloud to tell you the name or the details yet. But I can say I'm having a really good time, everyone is really nice and the work is really enjoyable. I have not been aloud to write anything yet but hopefully that will change soon. In other news (call me Fiona Bruce), *BONG*, I have just purchased a ticket to go to Bestval, which is an annual festival in the Isle of White. Jessie Ware, Elton John, Disclosure and Bastille are there (with many more), so I'm really looking forward to that. *BONG* I'm also going back home to celebrate my mothers birthday, which is rather exciting because as much as I love it here in London, going home is always lovely.

Enough about me, HOW ARE YOU? Because I've been pretty absent from the blogsphere for a while, I can promice you that there will be a new post up soon about One Direction which is all rather exciting, isn't it gays?!

Les Misérables: Anne Hathamazing

Walking out of the cinema screen tonight, I realised there were so many different kinds of people expressing so many different emotions. Couples, Mothers and daughters, Grandparent and friends of all different ages. Some were confused, some were still crying in the lobby of the cinema, there was an over-usage of the word 'amazing', and some were disappointed. But for me, Les Misérables was astonishing and is now my favourite film ever made. Being interested in theater since I can remember, I spent most of my teenage years listening to Broadway recordings of songs from musicals. My all time favourite song from a musical happens to be from Les Mis, and that song is 'On My Own', so I was very excited and I had been waiting for this film to be released since the teaser.
       Anne Hathaway was breathtaking as Fantine, Amanda Seyfried (Cosette) is, and forever will be the cutest actress in the world, Hugh Jackman did a very good Jean Valjean and Samantha Barks was born to be Eponine (lets face it). But my favourite performance in this film was from Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter (try saying that when you're drunk). I thought NO-ONE could beat Matt Lucas and Jenny Galloway, but I was wrong. SBC and HBC were the funniest and my favourite Mr and Mrs Thénardier I've ever witnessed. I did have one problem, and I don't know if I'm the only one, but because Les Mis is 100% musical, I rolled my eyes eveytime I saw either Russell Crowe or Hugh Jackman. "Another fucking 6 minute song about your duty and/or Valjeans past," I thought to myself, thinking about nachos and Anne Hathaway. But I guess that's part of the whole 'musical' package really isn't it?
        The character I felt the biggest connection to was Eponine because Eddie Redmayne doesn't love me either (he played Marius in the film). Isn't he not only an amazing actor who was perfect for the role, but a massive fittie who needs to make love to me?
        Personal highlights of the film include any part with Anne Hathaway (Dreamed a Dream was a goosebump/sobbing fiasco), Fantines Death, Eponine singing 'On My Own' and the ending. The ending was so beautiful and emotional I had to look to the side so my mother didn't catch a tear falling.
        I saw Les Mis when I was very young on the West End, and I can remember being very confused. You really had to listen to understand the plot because obviously on stage you are less dependent on props and setting. I do remember though that I thought it was a very good show. I would suggest seeing the play before you see the film, because this film will make you want to see the play and the play will probably seem kind of crap compared to this huge production with the best cast since High School Musical 2. That's why I am giving this film a five star rating.

-Jack

2013 Pop Cultural Predictions

January. This word sends shivers down my spine. All the 'new year, new me' bullshit with people unnecessarily announcing that their diet is going well. Well I have one thing to say to all of you that say/do annoying things during this awful month. 'Fuck off.' But at least we have a whole new year of pop culture to look forward to, so here are my pop culture predictions of 2013, which is more or less a wish list.
       If you are a frequent reader of my not so interesting blog, then you know I absolutely adore Tom Daley. So my first 'prediction' is that by the end of 2013 he will release a statement that he is a gay man who has secretly had a civil partnership with a huge black man and/or me. Maybe I'm going a bit too far, but that would be a (wet) dream come true, no?
       Ok, so we know the Sugababes are reuniting with an absolutely awful new name, 'Mutya-Keisha-Siobhan.' I'm not being funny, but how do they expect people to say the fucking name without googling it, and saying it really slowly. So my prediction for 'MKS' is simple. If they release a club banger (rumoured) then they will probably do pretty well and have a good, solid pop album with a sold out (ish) arena tour, but if they release (and God forgive me for using this word) a ballad, then they will flop, and flop hard (if you hadn't noticed, I hate ballads).
       Lady Gaga will prove to everyone that she is alive and release 'ARTPOP,' which apparently is a lot more fun than her previous album 'Born This Way' but just as risky, which is rather exciting isn't it? If you follow me on tumblr you will know that the sometime-jazz singer is one of my favourite artists, if not, my all time favourite artist. So it is no secret that I cannot wait for the 'Bad Romance' singer (best song of all time, no?) to release her new album. My prediction is that the album will do pretty well, if not amazingly depending on how good the first single is. I also predict that she will preform with Beyoncé (again, more of a wish) at the Superbowl half time show, which will be all kinds of amazing.
       Les Misérables will do very well during awards season and I will become 75% more gay during awards season because of Anne Hathaway and all her amazing-ness. I think Anne Hathaway could play any character in the world and do an incredible job. Lindsay Lohan will have many more comebacks and people will realise each comeback that she has lost her Midas touch and has become a shit actress.
       Finally, it was released today that Destiny's Child and Justin Timberlake are going to have comebacks VERY SOON. I would go on and talk about it but my brain needs more time to digest the information (can we all have a collective HOLY SHIT BALLS).

That's all.
Jack

PS Justin Bieber will still be annoying

MY THING OF THE WEEK.

My thing of this week is the film 'Pitch Perfect'. Apologies to the gays for taking so long to see this film, but now I have, and I'd like to say that it is possibly my favourite comedy, like ever (channeling Taylor Swift there). I'm not a huge Glee fan, in fact I haven't watched it properly since series two, but Pitch Perfect was the perfect mix of Mean Girls and Glee (in the best possible way), focusing on the characters traits than the plot, and sweet Jesus they have the Empress of comedy characters in this film. Two words. Fat, Amy. She is my new spiritual animal.

Highlights of the film include the burrito scene and anything that comes out of Fat Amy's mouth.

Here is the trailer. Go and check it out as I fear it won't be in the cinema for much longer.

New Year, New Me. Like Fuck.

Happy New Year everybody. It is 2013 which is absolutely crazy to me. I'm not going to get all reflective up on your grill so I'm just going to say this. I hate people and I hate New Years Eve. Everyone is trying way to hard to have a good time and everyone is 70% faker than they already are. So I spent my night getting drunk with friends in below average night clubs, resulting in a grotesque kebab disaster, with me spilling my half eaten kebab on the floor, because I thought I was getting shot due to the unexpected explosion from a nearby firework. FUCKING HELL, THAT WAS A MOUTHFUL.

I wasn't as embarrassing compared to last year. Last year I was spewing my guts out singing 'All By Myself' in my garden as my family watched through the window. This was before leaving a nightclub at half past eleven because I was too drunk. Did I mention it took me an hour to walk two hundred feet to my house? And by 'walk' I mean 'crawl'.

So New Years is not my friend. But I hope you all had a fabulous New Years Eve and had that special midnight kiss (vomit).

P.S I don't have a New Years Resolution because I'm a normal human being who doesn't keep any promises.

Merry Christmas blogger buddies!

Sorry I haven't been updating this thing as much as I said I would over the past few weeks. It is the festive season after all. So now that Christmas is practically over (Only 2 more hours left of Jesus being exactly one year older than he was last year), I should become more engaged in writing and keeping the internet updated on my not so interesting life.

Well Christmas was lovely as per usual. Waking up relatively early to open presents with the sister, bacon sandwiches for breakfast (with fancy Tesco finest bread this year, thank you very much), playing with my favourite present (my kindle) for at least 2 hours before sitting down for a marvelous three course festive fiasco with awful jokes and pigs wrapped in more pigs, which I think is an odd yet delicious concept. Who ever thought of wrapping sausage in bacon is the love child of Einstein and Hitler. Imagine if the sausage was the mother piggy and the bacon was the baby piggy. I feel as though I'm going into this way too much so I'm going to stop talking about pigs in blankets and move onto the touchy topic of pathetic cracker jokes. Today I think I possibly read the worst excuse of a joke to ejaculate out of a cracker. On that patronising little piece of paper it read (and I kid you not):

Q: Why was Santa scared to leave a little girls house after delivering his gifts?
A: Because it was raining.

Now correct me if I'm wrong but that joke it's not funny in any fucking way. The person who wrote the joke should be fired immediately. I guess that's what you get for purchasing the lower brand Christmas crackers.

Every Christmas I remember how blessed I am. Not that I'm some person who takes everything for granted and should be named and shamed on MTV's 'My Super Sweet Sixteen' (best theme song ever by the way). But Not only did I had a lovely day with people who love me, but they gave me presents. Including a toastie maker, expensive smelly things and a kindle fire (which I'm currently using to write this blog post). Because I felt so warm inside I decided to give some money to the charity Barnado's which is a non-profit organisation that helps children in homes, children with disabilities, children getting bullied, ect. So I'm leaving you with an end message to give if you can and have a lovely Christmas because I'm needed for a late night family game of monopoly.

Merry Christmas you filthy animal.