Save the housewife

Hooray for the Japanese! Having watched the Sony QRIO starring in Beck's new video 'Hell Yes', it was easy to imagine future times where dancing robots make light work of domestic chores, as well as making our kitchens a much jollier place to have the dinner.

So, housework -- begone! Housewives -- cast off thy pinnies and leave the kitchen forever!

In this brave new world without housework, many unforeseen benefits could materialise. Consider; it is just conceivable that we might never again have to listen to the insipid output of 'artists' such as James 'Puppy-Dog-Eyes' Blunt, whose turgid mock-falsetto whining is churned out hour upon hour on kitchen radios up and down the country. Ruthless record company executives, whose jobs are dependent on sales generated by the captive housewife market, are cynically targetting the innocent in a relentless 'musical' carpet bombing exercise. Is it any wonder these poor women, toiling under the heavy yoke of domestic oppression, are powerless to resist?

In the interests of completing this entry and getting on with the remainder of my life, I've done some thorough market research with the Good Lady. The following mildly erotic fantasy sequence suggests itself.

Beaten down by the drudgery, she leans wearily over the sink and heaves a sigh, her spent pink Marigolds draped limply over the basin. Her only company in the world; a disc jockey called Mike from Lancaster. 'Play me a tune, Mike', she whispers. The opening bars of 'You're beautiful' drift gently across the room as she closes her eyes and imagines --

-- the doorbell rings, she answers. Standing there, a silhouette in the doorway, is James Blunt. Barefoot and dripping wet, he looks every inch the bedraggled ex-army officer. His jeans and white t-shirt cling to his taut frame. Blinking the rain from his puppy-dog eyes, he smiles knowingly. Little pools of water gather at his feet. He's holding a bucket in one hand, and a little puppy in the other. 'I was washing the windows, but I've run out of hot water', he explains. He could be singing the words, it's difficult to tell. All the buttons have been expertly pushed. It only remains for the quivering housewife to invite him inside, although a suprising number will insist the puppy stays out in the rain. An afternoon of passion ensues. The windows remain unwashed.

In reality, the bored housewive is trundling through ASDA, wheeling her trolley absent-mindedly along the condiments and pasta sauce aisle, probably engaged in one of countless other mildly erotic fantasies when she is suddenly confronted by huge James Blunt point-of-sale display featuring a lifesize cardboard effigy and several thousand copies of his new CD (only £9.97). I doubt he's holding a bucket or a puppy, but he will be barefoot and soaking wet. And those eyes.


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It was smash and grab on Partypoker tonight. I only played one game and I was a very, very good boy. Discipline coupled with selective aggression. A couple of great folds, a few judicious all-ins with absolute garbage, and the $50 was mine. It goes some way to offsetting last night's frustrating three bubbles out of four.

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+Tonight's music+

XTC – Stupidly Happy
The Swindon duo doing what they do best -- perfect pop.

Sufjan Stevens – Casimir Pulaski Day
A beautiful song from Pitchfork's album of 2005, 'Illinois'.

Heatwave – Boogie Nights
I love this song. Don't argue.

Teenage Fanclub – It's All In My Mind
Bellshill's finest, with the opening track of their latest collection, Man-made.

Boards of Canada – Poppy Seed
Trippy and cool, IDM for people with no intention of dancing.