Words are a tool for effective communication. To my mind, communication is the relaying of one concept from an individual or group to another individual or group. If a message makes it from one party to another, understood and intact, communication has been successful. Unfortunately, in conversation, you get assholes who receive the communication, unpack it, understand it, then point out to the sender all the things that are wrong with it.

Person A: How is this pronunced?
Dickhead: Don’t you mean pronounced?

What has this achieved? Dickhead has made an individual or group aware of the fact that Person A mispronounced something, but he’s also conveniently informed everyone that he’s basically a complete waste of oxygen and should probably be avoided at all costs. I would urge you to do the same. If someone prefers the perfect execution of a message to the content of said message, they are probably not worth your time.

As a footnote, I am very pedantic when it comes to planned written communication. Misspelled signage, incorrect punctuation et al are a sign of laziness or unjustifiably high self esteem (I know I’m right, I don’t need to look it up). Short, observational blog posts do not count as planned communication, so if you’ve spotted a mistake, I’m not a hypocrite and your observation of my hypocrisy is moot. Ha.

The iPhone camera is not great in the dark. It’s not great when you’re drunk.

Getting post is great; except for when it’s bills. It’s nearly always bills, or some fucker claiming you owe them money, or inviting you to be in a free prize draw, or a takeaway menu. It’s never good stuff, unless you’re expecting it.

What I like about Lovefilm is it’s a benevolent little package that lands on your doormat that isn’t a bank statement or council tax. It’s an hour or two of enjoyment, that you didn’t have to go and get. It’s the modern-day equivalent of a stork (or something).

I haven’t used my camera in ages. There is no excuse.

Me: Sorry I didn’t help out with the housework this afternoon
Charlotte: That’s OK; you had something you needed to do
Me: What was that?
Charlotte: You wanted to watch the basketball
Me: PROFIT

So, there you have it. Somehow, I have managed to convince Charlotte that a game of the playoffs that’s like 2 weeks old is important enough that it takes precedence over housework.

Either I’m an evil genius, or she’s great.

Now here’s a meme I can get on board with. Taking photos of yourself and doctoring internet search results.

BRING BACK GOOGLEBOMBING!