2010 in review (it was shit)

This isn’t very interesting but it does have a photo of Tennant (not my idea) for the ladies,(but obviously not for Doctor Who fans because he has nothing to do with it) and lots of stats and stuff to show you how many wonderful peeploids worried my blog last year.

The stats helper monkeys at WordPress.com mulled over how this blog did in 2010, and here’s a high level summary of its overall blog health:

The Blog-Health-o-Meter™ reads Wow.

Crunchy numbers

The average container ship can carry about 4,500 containers. This blog was viewed about 19,000 times in 2010. If each view were a shipping container, your blog would have filled about 4 fully loaded ships.

In 2010, there were 28 new posts, growing the total archive of this blog to 110 posts. There were 53 pictures uploaded, taking up a total of 4mb. That’s about 1 pictures per week.

The busiest day of the year was February 17th with 559 views. The most popular post that day was Has Anyone Seen Our David…?.

Where did they come from?

The top referring sites in 2010 were community.livejournal.com, twitter.com, blogsurfer.us, facebook.com, and spam-filtering-service.net-us.info.

Some visitors came searching, mostly for cheryl cole, underground map, london underground, lady gaga, and captain pugwash.

Attractions in 2010

These are the posts and pages that got the most views in 2010.

1

Has Anyone Seen Our David…? February 2010
2 comments

2

GaGa Ooh La La! December 2009
2 comments

3

Sci-Fi’s Unsung Heroes #53,627 – Ensign Ro Laren August 2009
2 comments

4

Star Wars Episode VII-A New Blog September 2009
2 comments

5

The One About Not Drinking August 2009
1 comment

Happy Birthday,Blog Dog !!!

Alright dudes ?

Hola!

‘Tis I-El Perro Blog…reporting from the London Underground,and my Mornington Crescent lair… and I am one year old !!

Yes,adventure-fans..it was one year ago (almost) today that I was found,swaddled in a copy of Razzle,on the doorstep of 10 Downing Street,having fallen through a rift in the time-space continuum following my battle with the Daleks on Uranus.(I have to do ALL the work while Tennant gets all the glory…and my wife,but that’s another story)

But there is no time for a detailed origin story this week….another time maybe…if I can be arsed.

Not only do I have to advertise for another maid/cleaner/cook/tea-maker/asbestos cleaner/toenail-cutter,but I also need to finish my profile on this intertubenet dating site I’ve joined-PlentyofDogs.com,because I haven’t had a bit for months…and you wouldn’t believe the dust on the platform.I’ve decided to combine the two jobs,that of lover and caretaker.

My ad reads – “Handsome Immortal Adventurer In Time & Space Seeks Sex-Mad Bitch To Make Tea And Sweep Up”

Haven’t had many replies yet…

Anyway…what can you expect from the upcoming year?

Excitement,adventure and rampant sauciness,that’s what!!

And if I can pull my finger out,more pelvic-floor-testing escapades from my unbelievable life !!!

THE BLOG DOG-like a nun with dwarfism ramming a box of chalk up your crevice…sexier than Eva Mendes carrying a Tesco bag filled with custard creams…the feeling you get when you realise you CAN marry your iMac…the Blog Dog is all these things,and yet more..

Until next time,jollies-junkies !!!

Love,Japanese Style…

This is Nisan.

He lives in Japan.

The pillowcase is his girlfriend.

Awww.

(Presumably the pillowcase is washable…)

He is part of a growing subculture in Japan known as 2-D Lovers,an offshoot of otaku culture,the obsessive fandom surrounding anime,manga and videogames in the Land of the Rising Sun.Nisan takes Nemutan,the name of the character on the pillowcase,everywhere.They are inseparable,going to the karaoke on the weekends and on long road trips.

Bless.

It may seem strange to us,but I bet she never complains about him wanting to watch the sumo wrestling.

Tesco Rage Sweeps The Nation!!!

In May of this year,Robert Caton,a 50 year old gentleman from Andover in Hampshire,went up to a security guard in his local Tesco and asked him how long it would take to evacuate the building.

That was shortly before he drove his Rolls Royce through the supermarket window after drinking two bottles of whisky,causing £21,000 worth of damage,and the store lost £41,000 in sales as they cleared up the mess.

It took him 2 go’s to smash through the window.

Six women suffered cuts,bruises and shock and a woman who was 20 weeks pregnant had to go to hospital.

Apparently,he had “simply snapped.”

The court heard he had “saved-up” for a bed and cupboard for his 3yr old son’s bedroom,but the mattress he thought would come with it did not arrive.

Hmmm…..I know how he feels,although I’ve never resorted to ram-raiding Tesco….blowing the bloody place up perhaps…

Thankfully today’s trip was not this eventful,although the Mother Unit did at one point say that having my son and myself with her was like taking 2 kids shopping…we weren’t THAT naughty,honest ;).

Comic relief was provided by a lady who’s trolley was so full she was having trouble pushing the bloody thing,and was not being helped by her husband/boyfriend/significant other who preferred to just watch.

BUT I forgot to get cup-a-soups….

What else did I do over the weekend….well,played videogames with my son,thought about my girlfriend,played cards,told my son about my girlfriend,went out to town,bored my son by telling him about my girlfriend a bit more….came back,drove my son up the wall by dropping interesting snippets of information about my girlfriend in to the conversation….very packed weekend really.

Oh did I tell you I’m going back up to “that London” to see her in a couple of weeks?

I’m a citizen of the universe,me….I have no fear about travelling to the big city..if you knew what was waiting for me,you’d be on the first bus out too.

I’d be quite happy to WALK there….but luckily National Express offer very reasonable rates.

Hmm…I seem to have wandered off topic a tad….do I look like I give a monkeys??

To recap…mad bloke drives his Roller through Tesco window….that’s it.

See you next time !!!

And now,tea.

Communication problems—-Not any more!!!

I speak to you today,Constant Reader,as an official Happy Person.

😀 I’m that happy.

But it hasn’t always been so.

There was a time,only a few months back,even,when you could say I had given up caring about anything.I certainly never dreamed that I would find someone so beautiful and special to share my life with…that was the last thing on my mind.

I was too busy feeling sorry for myself to feel anything for someone else.

But now I have someone.

Now…I’m actually looking forward to the future,all the things we will be able to do together (stop sniggering at the back,there)….I mean going places and doing stuff…even normal,everyday stuff like shopping for teabags…which of course is a vitally important aspect of life,but you know what I mean.

I’m sure my son will now stop nagging me about getting a girlfriend…as he used to say when he was little-“Daddy,I’ve got two Daddies,but why have I only got one Mummy?” (He lives with his mother and stepfather.)

I couldn’t answer.

But now I can…although it may alarm my girlfriend (ooh…”my girlfriend”…that sounds good) to know that the last time I was in a proper relationship,about 6 years ago,my son asked her when we were getting married.

Fast working little matchmaker,my boy.

He demands results.

Anyway,I don’t want to spoil anybody’s dinner by banging on about my wonderful love-life….but it is my blog after all,and it should be about things that happen in my life,and not comedy pug dogs….(even though those blogs are incredibly funny and well worth a read if you have not already done so)…what I’m trying to say is,if I can find someone to put up with my strange ways,then anybody can.

By way of explanation,I used to look like this in school-

Hello ladies...

NHS glasses….yeah,should most definitely have gone to Specsavers…but Specsavers hadn’t been invented yet,so I was stuck with these easily breakable free plastic specs.

I went through quite a few pairs over the years.

Looking through the boxes of old photos at the Mother Unit’s house,I came across some real horrors from my younger years….and this one isn’t even the worst of them.

I mean,just look….not what you’d call “girl-bait” exactly….I like to think I’ve improved with age…I couldn’t exactly get any bloody worse,to be honest…

Bargain-basement Ronnie Corbett…that was the look I “rocked” during my school-life.

Which look am I rocking now,I hear you ask?

Poor man’s George Clooney….got the grey hair and everything…and we have the same birthday…6th May…what more do you need?

Anyway…that’s it….I need a brew and a biccie,in that order….so expect me to be in a perpetual good mood from now on,you will probably hate me and long for the days of murderous vegetables and cup-a-soups.

Be good,grown-ups !!! 🙂

Communication problems.

Sign here,please....(You would if you could,guys (and girls!)

I have a small confession to make.

It probably won’t come as much of a surprise to many of you.

It is simply this….

I have no idea how to talk to women.

Not a single living clue.

Not a scooby.

Quite frankly,women may as well ACTUALLY be from Venus,and in fact most of the women I’ve met have shared that planet’s characteristics-distant,gassy and poisonous to life.

Only joking.

I probably haven’t met the right girl yet.(IRONY)

Sadly,due to the combination of having a stupid name and all the other drawbacks I documented in a previous post (“Born crappy”—have a look,it’s a good ‘un!),I tend to avoid the company of women.

But,actually,no.Not all women are difficult to talk to,because as all men will attest,there is a certain breed of woman that is spectacularly easy to talk to…

That’s right….the…ummm…beauty-challenged ones.

They’re great to talk to.

But for some reason when I’m faced with a vision of female wonderment I suddenly forget how to switch on that thing that makes the words come out.

I know what the problem is….I feel I have to impress them,and that ultimately I’m not good enough for them.

I often wonder,if I had the name/looks/job/slightly less expansive waistline that modern women covet,would I suddenly develop the ability to charm them into my boudoir?

Probably not….I am missing the confidence gene,I think….or I was at the end of the queue when they were handing it out.Maybe it’s because,truth be told,I am quite boring,and my topics of conversation tend to be limited to-

1.Science fiction

2.Doctor Who

3.Science fiction on TV,especially Doctor Who

I very rarely have meaningful chats with attractive women.Perhaps I should broaden my interests to include X-Factor (SARCASM)….nah,not likely.

So,for the forseeable future I shall be on my ownsome.It has its drawbacks (no sex) but also advantages (cheaper council tax) and after all this time alone I don’t know anything else.

And I can watch my Doctor Who DVDs at 3 in the morning in my pants.

Next time–“…so I picked it and it fell off.”

Born crappy.

Hello ladies….

From the moment I was born,when the doctor slapped my mother,I was up shit creek.

I had nothing going for me from day one.

Let me explain.

First,my name…Emyr Wyn Lewis,which is a Welsh name…I’m Welsh by the way.

Yeah,I know,I can’t pronounce it either,not even Welsh people can.This is one of the reasons that I’m still single…I die of embarrassment when I have to tell anyone my name,especially women.

And let’s face it,girls,would you rather go out with an Emyr or a James?

Next,my height.

I don’t have one.

I fall into that category known as “short of arse”.This means that most women won’t even look at me unless they’re hobbits.

Onto my looks.Well,women who are usually overweight and haven’t seen any action for a decade always say I’m “lovely” and “sweet” and “handsome”.I’m never told these things by a woman who’s still got her own teeth.

That’s because such females aren’t even looking at me.

Think a bargain basement Daniel O’Donnell…..mixed with a bit of Jimmy Hill.

With a sprinkling of Mr Blobby.

So that’s what I’m working with,and yet I still get people telling me I’m, fantastic and great and a good catch and all that shit…can’t they just be honest?

I learnt a long time ago that you can’t polish a turd.

Next time–Knitting In Prison