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?

10 Television shows that need to take over your life.

 Nothing screams student life more than a television box-set. The box-set is the new Pot Noodle, and there is a box-set out there to satisfy everyone's palette. Here is a neatly, organised list of ten television shows that you need to watch in order to be a lonely, pathetic, gay man who eats a lot of ice cream.

 10. 30 Rock

The world would be a pretty shit place without Tina Fey. She is a comedic mastermind and there is a constant smile on my face when I watch 30 Rock because of her. Liz Lemon is me. I am Liz Lemon. Liz Lemon is life.

9. Adventure Time

I'm very particular when it comes to cartoons I consider watchable, let alone enjoyable. The cartoons of your own generation are always the best, but there is something about Adventure Time. With a talking dog, a lumpy space princess, a talking cinnamon bun and a princess made of bubble gum, you can't go wrong.

8. Teen Wolf

I'm guessing 70% of you are rolling your eyes right now. Don't judge a television series by it's name. Teen Wolf is addictive, and I need a new prescription.

7. American Horror Story

I'm in love with American Horror Story. The new Coven edition of the show is my favourite series out of the three so far. It's scary, sexy and sassy all at the same time. Emma Roberts and Jessica Lange are amazing in this show.

6. Looking

This television show isn't even a week old and I can tell I'm going to enjoy it immensely. It's about a bunch of gay guys who live in San Francisco and are looking for love. What's not to like? Plus it looks like it's filmed using Instagram. BONUS!

5. The Simple Life

Yes, I put 'The Simple Life' high on my list. No, I do not go and see a doctor. You do.

4. Modern Family

Modern Family has one of the biggest hearts in television. I could watch Modern Family for 75% of my life and die a happy man.

3. Breaking Bad

The hype is real. Breaking Bad made me laugh, cry and cry laughing. If you haven't started binge watching Breaking Bad then there is something wrong with you. It is the definition of great television.

2. RuPaul's Drag Race

Who doesn't want to watch a dozen men dress up as women compete for the title of America's Next Drag Superstar? RuPaul's Drag Race is everything and I've even thought about becoming a drag queen just so I can go on Drag Race, until I realise that I do not have the balls for it (even if I don't really need them)

1. Orange is The New Black

This is the best television show I've ever watched. The story lines are impeccable and the acting is amazing. If you watch one episode, you'll be on episode twenty by the following day. You can't stop and you won't stop because you're Miley Cyrus human.

2014 POP CULTURE PREDICTIONS

Last year, I predicted the future of pop culture. And unless Mutya-Keisha-Siobhan release an amazing song within this last and remaining month of 2013, then I didn't do very well. But I really enjoyed releasing my inner-Raven Symone and predicting what will happen in the celebrity world. So here we go, here's what I think will happen in 2014:

• Twerking will become illegal in many institutions. People really need to understand that twerking isn't cute, and never will be. The Government will soon realise what it's doing to society and make it against the law to twerk.
• Taylor Swift will shag more boys.
• She will write more songs about the boys she shagged.
• Zac Efron will show the world how amazing he is doing after his drug problem and do an interview with Oprah. 
• Zac Efron will also come out as gay and become my boyfriend.
• Tom Daley will dump his sugar daddy and join Zac and I's relationship.
• There will be another Lindsay Lohan mugshot, and someone will put that mugshot on an actual mug.
• Beyoncé will finally release her much anticipated fifth album, and people will think she is actually Jesus Christ. Amen.
•  Amanda Bynes will have her acting comeback and it will be shit, because she wasn't that good anyway, was she?
• Lady Gaga will cancel her performance on the moon because she realises that she's human and no-one should put themselves in that position unless they have a death wish.
• I will see One Direction and Harry Styles will look at me and say, "Wow, you're beautiful. Want to hang sometime?"
• I will accept his offer.
• We will have sex

So there you go. All of these will happen next year. Are you excited? I am. 

Does size really matter?

The world of online dating has become literally, bonkers. People are becoming more and more picky when it comes to picking their future lover, whether they have to wear a uniform in the day or have a big dong. Yes, that's right, a big dong. I recently came across an advert for a new dating site specifically for people who like big dicks. You can find that website here (yes, it is called 7orBetter.com and I grant them 10 points for that name).

I never know how to feel about absolutely massive cocks or how anyone can have a fetish over it, especially if you're a gay bottom (I'M VERSITILE). Yes, I admit sometimes when I see one online (I'm not that lucky to experience the live show yet), I think to myself, 'Holy shit, that's beautiful.' Also, I don't know why but if I know someone has a big dick, I look at them as authoritative for some strange reason. I guess it's like dogs. You can't really call a chihuahua a dog, but you wouldn't fuck with a huge Rottweiler. On a purely visual level, looking at a big penis is like looking at the London's Gherkin, an absolutely beautiful landmark that makes you spew innuendo more than... well, I don't know the name of any other phallic landmark in the world that wouldn't scab your hole.

The question is, should the size of your chosen lover's penis be any different than having a preference over what colour eye's you prefer on your man or if you prefer Lady Gaga or Madonna? Due to the popular belief that 'bigger is better', you'd assume that people have every right to be picky with penises. But on the other hand, you can't change the size of your penis unless you get surgery and end up on a gone-wrong This Morning segment with Holly Willoughby uncontrollably laughing.

I think the answer to this not-so-important question is that it doesn't matter. It's what inside that matters. Dick size is only a tiny leaf on the oak tree of love.

ONLY KIDDING. WHERE'S THE BIG DICK AT?

On a serious note, life must be quite difficult if you have an insanely small penis. Especially if you're part of the gay community. A community that has welcomed me with open arms, but a community where appearance, confidence and semen are huge factors when it comes to love. All you have to do is visit douchebagsofgrindr.com to understand what it's like. I think people need to realise that whether they prefer a chopper or a chode, there is a human being attached to that penis they are scrutinising. What I'm trying to say is that I may prefer Lady Gaga, but I would never tell Madonna that.

MTV VMA's REVIEW (CAITLIN MORAN EDITION)

I woke up on Monday the 26th of August with a very bad hangover and 17 missed calls. Before sorting all that out, I naturally checked twitter to witness the best photo ever of Lady Gaga with One Direction at the MTV VMA's. This got me very excited to watch the actual show. I refused to watch any performance, tried my best not to look at any photos (very hard for a professional fan-girl), or look up who won what award. So I'm going to review the performances from the show and the fashion from the night.

PERFORMANCES

Lady Gaga opened the award show by performing her new single 'Applause' (watch it here) and it was a bloody good performance. I like how she incorporated every single album era that she's been through and ending it in the 'ARTPOP' era. The booing at the start also made me laugh a little, it was just a little 'fuck you' to all the hateful critics.

Miley Cyrus caused a bit of a stir by degrading the entire female population by wearing practically nothing whilst wanking off a Mickey Mouse finger and twerking against Robin Thicke's crotch (watch here). WE GET IT, YOU'RE GROWN UP. Don't get me wrong, I see nothing wrong with nudity. The human body is a beautiful thing and it should be embraced. I find it weird when people are uncomfortable by someones ass crack on TV. Gaga used nudity in her performance and I know I'm probably biased here, but it was tasteful. She looked like she was cut out of Botticelli's "The Birth of Venus." But Miley took it a bit too far. If Robin Thicke was absent from the performance and it was just Miley in that outfit, not as many people would of complained. It was just way too over-sexualised. It's a shame because I really like Miley and I think she has one of the most pure and unique voices in pop music.

Women in popular music are becoming way too slutty, and people find it inspiring because popstars are doing what they want to, when most of these ideas come from male propaganda. It's pretty much impossible to stop degrading women all together, especially in this sex obsessed culture. Over-sexualisation of women has become so extreme that it's time to fight fire with fire. We need to see men being treated the same way women are being treated in music, film and the media. It's unfair to be brainwashing certain traits, stereotypes and expectations to new generations.

Let's stop talking about vagina's for a moment, although it's going to be hard not to because mine was gushing last night during Justin Timberlake's performance (I really am a man, I swear). He won the lifetime achievement award which has something to do with Micheal Jackson for some reason that I do not know. Winning this award, he treated us with a fifteen minute performance of all his classics, three songs from his amazing new album and a little song with NSYNC. HE IS JUST THE BEST POPSTAR EVER ISN'T HE? I love him and want to marry him. Highlights include: The NCYNC reunion, Mirrors, Cry Me a River, My Love & Take Back the Night. Basically, the entire thing.

Now it's time to talk about my favourite part of the show. Macklemore & Ryan Lewis' performance of 'Same Love'. I'm obsessed with Macklemore. He's officially my favourite rap artist ever. The performance was amazing, the song is touching and has a meaning so close to my heart. It's nice to see that songs about gay rights are becoming mainstream. In fact it's amazing, especially in hip hop which is probably one of the most homophobic genre's of music. PLUS JENNIFER HUDSON CAME OUT AT THE END. FUCK. (watch here).

Katy Perry ended the show in front of the Brooklyn Bridge (watch here). Her vocals were on top form and it's so lovely to see that she's growing as an artist even though I'm going to miss that blue wig so much. Roar is an amazing song and I'm very excited to see the music video. Do not disappoint me Perry. I got my eye's on you.

FASHION

Best Dressed

Ellie Goulding (left), Selena Gomez (middle) and Taylor Swift (right).

Worst Dressed

Erin Wasson (left), Miley Cyrus (middle) and Katy Perry (right).

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).

It's Not Me, It's Ru

It took me a very long time and a very stressful essay crisis to get into RuPaul's Drag Race. After seeing a whole lot of gays go crazy on tumblr and a lot of essay procrastination to do, I decided to dedicate a whole three days to television gold. A couple weeks later, and I've seen every single episode to every single series. I can't even imagine a world without a completely unnecessary but absolutely compulsory 'lip-synch for your life'. Questioning pronouns has never been a bigger part of my life and I absolutely love it.

I never understood the fascination with Drag Queens or why anyone would pay good money to see some man make some dick jokes, whilst miming to Britney Spears dressed as a woman. But now I am one of those people who recently bought a ticket for 'The Real Lady Boys of Bangkok' and cannot fucking wait to go. Of course, I cannot assume that every single gay person will love Drag Race, I'm sure a lot of them despise the show, but there is no denying that it has a huge impact on popular and gay culture. The Queens that enter end up preforming all over the world in gay clubs, pride parades and even festivals or big events. Even straight people love the show because it's probably the most competitive and entertaining reality television show out at the moment. All these Queens are desperate to win a life supply of make-up, a holiday and a hundred thousand dollars (who wouldn't?).

 Even though everyone is competitive, no-one takes it seriously. Not even Ru-Paul. It's honestly a bigger joke than Amanda Bynes' acting comeback. THEY LIP-SYNCH FOR THEIR LIVES GODDAMMIT. It's an obvious parody of Project Runway or Next Top Model, but in the best possible way. All the queens make their own clothes, they do their own make up, their hair always looks flawless. When you're watching it, it just feels like a big hug from Christopher Biggins. The endless puns, the one-liners, the catchphrases and the amazing bitchiness are the bait that will eventually reel you in. You will end up laying there with the fishy Queens at the fish market, in the metaphorical supermarket of RuPaul. Also, The false-sense of drama in this show is just so... lovely.

 It's the only reality TV show in the world not to give a fuck which makes us give a fuck. The winner may win a cash sum of $100,000, but even the winner will go back to performing in gay clubs after the show and everyone knows that. Yes, they will probably play the best gay night clubs in the world, but a night club is a night club. The show doesn't care if you don't know what 'ki-ki' or 'shade' means, because it's a show for gay people and gay lovers. The show is on the only US gay network 'Logo', and RuPaul is probably the only straight crossover hit on that network because it's pretty much amazing and there's this overwhelming hype. I can confirm that the hype, is infact, real. If you think I'm an idiot for loving this show, or have not seen one episode, clip or even GIF. I have two words for you.

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.

West End Weekend.

My lovely mother came to visit me last week, and when people come to visit me I become this raging tourist. On any other weekend, I would find eating a cheese and pickle sandwich on Piccadilly Circus a bit of a nightmare. But a relative is down, so it is a form of forced fun/torture. We went to see two shows, which were very different. I'm about to express my thoughts on both which I'm sure you'll find highly entertaining, *Sarcastic laughter*.

The first show I went to see was 'Billy Elliot' and it was fucking phenomenal. I went to see it 6 years ago, and it was the musical that got me interested in musical theater. If it wasn't for this musical, I probably would of thought Les Misérables was a bit shit. I am not shamed in saying that I cried a lot during this musical. I'm not sure why, but recently I've become this huge cry baby, or as some might say, a pussy. The show has the same story line as the film, so if you haven't seen the film (shame on you), here is a brief plot summary. The show is about a young gay boy who's not gay, but his friend is, growing up in a mining community in the North East of England during the 1980, when good old Margaret Thatcher (sarcasm) decided to take on the miners' union, and won. Which actually had a huge impact on UK politics, society and culture. The boy's name is Billy, and he wants to be a ballet dancer, but his 'lad dad' (good phrase, isn't it?) isn't happy with this, and needs to come to terms with Billy's talent. I won't go any further as I don't want to ruin it.

The songs in the show are pretty good, but not as good as other musicals like Les Mis or Wicked. It's the plot and the visuals which stood out the most during the performance. The use of contrast in this musical is amazing, with little ballet dancers and protesting miners singing about solidarity will certainly leave you in this goosebump/sobbing state, which will stay with you for at least another week. At one point I ran to the toilet, and came back to a giant effigy of Margaret Thatcher, maybe 20 or 30 feet tall. Underneath all that was about a dozen human-sized Margaret Thatchers. I thought I fell asleep during my piss and wondered into this, what surely had to be, the worst nightmare of my life. But it wasn't. Then it sunk in. I laughed.

Before I move on to the next show, I would just like to say that Billy's grandmother is a fucking legend. Oh, and I highly recommend this show. It's probably my favourite musical that I've seen (and I've seen a fair few).

Right. Oh God. The next show I went to see was Viva Forever. Like many a child of the 90s, my awkward years of being a confused, knob-head of a child were dominated by the Spice Girls, who probably defined my ongoing love affair with pop music. I heard the reviews were mixed by the fans and negative by journalists, but I did not let this get to me. In fact I was so excited about going to see Viva Forever that I had about 6 drinks before curtain-call. I was excited, optimistic and absolutely plastered. This certainly worked to my advantage, because looking back at the show, it was pretty crap, but I had a marvelous time. Never have I ever seen a theater so full of drunk people, that got up to dance at every opportunity possible.


The plot focuses on this girl named Viva who was in a girl band that was forced to split-up during an X-Factor-like show, leaving her on her own, trying to find herself, etc, etc. You can certainly tell that the musical is written by Jennifer Saunders, with a blatant Ab Fab consciousness, and in some ways, this makes the musical a bit better. Anyway I have mixed feelings about this musical and most of them are negative, so I'm going to make a bullet pointed list of what I learnt during this survival camp musical.

• Musicals about being famous are as ridiculous/shit as they sound.
• Props that appear from no-where and revolving things are always cool, but don't make the musical any better.
• 'Headlines' is still shit.
• 'Viva Forever' should never be tampered with, especially when it's a Spanish man with an acoustic guitar that's doing it.
• Thongs are always funny.
• 'Too Much' has always been a song about pubes after all.

That is it! I give Viva Forever a 4 out of 10 stilettos, and wouldn't really recommend it to anyone unless you are the worlds biggest Spice Girls fan and/or are absolutely wasted and want a good night out with your girls.

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.

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.

Halfway to Heaven.

It's another hangover post (are you surprised?) and I'm currently with a slice of toast which has a thin slice of cheese on top. It is like the mother fucking Moses of my life right now as I feel like my entire body has just collapsed through my arse (or if you're American, ass. Yes that right I just went multi-cultural on you).

Anyway, my best friend from Wales is in town this week and we decided to hit SoHo, aka the best place to ever exist. We went to G A Y bar and literally had one drink before we decided to go to Heaven. This morning I've been having several flashbacks including using a traffic cone as a penis whilst I wait for my friends to cross the road, having a three way kiss, losing my wallet, going absolutely ape shit when Miriah Carey came on (All I Want For Christmas thank you very much) and having someone else put their hand down the rear of my trousers without permission. I don't understand why people want to give you a boner in a club. It's not cute and if 90210 has taught me anything it's to always be cute and never be a slut. Although I would say I'm never cute and always a slut, but I try not to be. Honest.

Just thought I share that with you until I think of something interesting to write about.

I need to get drunk because sex is gross.

I recently came across this study that has shown being sexually aroused overrides feelings of disgust, meaning that you'd much be inclined to do something that you usually find repulsive when you're feeling horny minus your boner. In the study they used porn and something disgusting, (for example, Sex Toy Story 3 and wiping their hands with a used tissue). The people who watched the porn were then more likely to do the horrible task than the people who didn't watch porn. Even though this is completely true, I feel like alcohol has become more of a helping hand when it comes to, well, hand jobs.

Over the past couple of days I've realised that alcohol and being horny cancels out the disgusting state of the toilets in a concert arena I once gave someone a blowjob in (don't judge), or how I managed to sleep with someone so nauseatingly stupid that he didn't even understand what 'jounalism' meant, or how I managed to watch an entire episode of 'The Only Way is Essex' (joking).

But this has also made me worry a tiny bit, because I think whether you're turned on or off should determine if you're up for some bum, and not alcohol. I've always had quite an active social life ever since I can remember, and having been single for a while now, I've been having more one night stands (we've all had them, or will have one soon). I'm not having loads, just once a month or even every two. Usually when I meet the boy I'm going to have a one night stand with, I'm absolutely shit faced and scared I might spew up my sambuca if he's into oral. I'm afraid that vodka has become some sort of social and sexual lubricant that I'm going to need for sex with a future lover that won't be a one night thing.

So this is a little memo to Jack saying that sober sex might be shit, but try it out some time.