Two Years Gone

There are only three things in the world that I hate, and one of them is the fact that I've been writing this blog for two years now.

In fact it's exactly two years today, so please humour me as I plunge to whole new levels of self indulgence. It may come as a surprise to learn that a lot of ideas I have for blogs don't actually make it through to completion. "I'd like to see the shit that doesn't make it on to this fucking blog!" I hear you snark. Well be careful what you wish for, because here are my top 5 blogs that never made it.

5. Ideas for films: 

This one was abandoned when I remembered that my imagination isn't good enough to come up with any more than The Humane Centipede (in which they just hold hands) and the plot for The Hangover 3, where they wake up to discover a load of chopped-up dead women in the fridge, and the first person they ask tells them that they murdered lots of women before they even started drinking.

Talking of films, I just saw Sinister which is notable only for some of the most laughably awful exposition dialogue I've ever heard: "Wait, we didn't move into a house two doors down from a murder scene again, did we?" Genuinely.

And talking of terrible names for films, as I was last blog, what the fuck is up with The Perks of Being a Wallflower?

4. More horror movie cat deaths:

Because one blog about cats who die in horror films just isn't enough. But then the only additional one I could remember was the cat in Pet Sematary who's unlucky enough to die twice in the same film. Anyway, it turns out that one blog about cats who die in horror films is definitely enough.

3. My top 5 characters who are in love with sex dolls:

But I could only think of three: Dennis Hopper in River's Edge (not actually Dennis Hopper, but a character), James Franco in 30 Rock (actually James Franco) and Krieger in Archer (well not a sex doll but a hologram. Swings and roundabouts.)

2. There are only three things in the world that I hate, and one of them is Nicholas Parsons:

Abandoned for obvious reasons. Still, he is a cunt.

1. People I've called a cunt in dreams:

Again, there weren't enough instances to form a complete blog. So far the list is just Beyoncé and the cunt from Kasabian.

Thanks for indulging me in what can only be described as "a new low", and for reading my blog at all over the past two years. You insane, beautiful people. The title of this blog is one fifth of the Led Zeppelin song Ten Years Gone. I'll leave you with all five fifths of it, enjoy!