Monday, 30 August 2010

ARM’s Film Review : Repo Men

Saw this a couple of weeks ago so since I’m in a maniacal reviewing fest here’s my, er, review:

Oh, it’s the future again. And mankind have the ability to make replacement parts for bits of body that wear out or break: kidneys, hearts, livers and whatnot. They also do enhanced parts too, such as ears (but with a gigantic knob to turn up the volume for some reason.

All fine and dandy. You can get replacement bits but it costs. But you can get financing.

Unfortunately, if you fall behind on payments then you get a visit from Jude Bloody Law and some black dude who ends up killing him (oops, should’ve said spoiler alert but who cares) half way through the movie and the rest is his dream, who helpfully repossess the part. Usually by cutting the owner into small bits with big knives. So far so good. Apart from Jude Bloody Law.

Jude Bloody Law is one of these credit recovery agents. Then he ends up with a replacement heart and can’t find it in him to go slicing any more people up. So he gets chased around the place and etc.

All good. Apart from Jude Bloody Law. But what I want to know is where are the sales of Ginormous Cocks? I mean, 99% of the sales from blokes would be enhanced robo cocks, wouldn’t they? There’s a scene with some middle-aged guy getting the “For your family, you should take credit to get a new kidney” type sales talk. Nowhere do you get a “Think of what a 4 foot dong would do to make your wife happier” spiel. Come on, lets have some realism for a change.

To be honest, it’s a fairly ok film, but for the lack of realism on the sales front.

But, given Jude Bloody Law and a distinct lack of full frontal nudity I’m afraid it’s SHITE.

ARM’s Film Review: Predators

Saw this “film” a few weeks ago. So what’s my review?

Well, since the film script writers couldn’t be bloody arsed with actually taking time to write a script, the director couldn’t work out what the fuck was going on, nobody remembered to hire any actors, aside from Laurence Fishburne who spend the whole time talking to a plant pot and then trying to kill everybody with a potato slicer, I cannot be arsed in the least to even finish this sentence which must be one of my longest ever written so sum the whole film up with one word:


ARM’s Film Review : Inception

So, with nothing better to be doing, such as taking kids to Science Museum* today, I thought I’d go see a film. So chose Inception because it got some good reviews.

So, here’s my angry review:

Marketed by my friends as a cerebral version of The Matrix, I was very disappointed. Not only had they removed most of the exciting bits of The Matrix, they had replaced them with the characters spending most of the film either asleep, trying to go to sleep, or dreaming about having a bit of a kip.

I mean, WTF is this? I think the adverts were more entertaining. At least I now know that I shouldn’t be videoing the film using my phone or that I was sitting in a Cineworld cinema. I already realised that, you dozy chumps, given the enormous sodding great big Cineworld sign on the front of the building, the livery and indeed the packets of popcorn.

Ah, anyway. The film. Yes, Leonardo Di Crapio was in it. But this time he had a bit of a beard. So wahay. There goes the makeup effects. Oh, and a very very very very slow van reversing off the side of a bridge, something to do with 8 sleeping people tied together with lamp cord in a lift with no gravity, and exploding buildings on a snowy mountain.


Did anybody actually write the script or was it one of those round robin type of things where everybody and their aunty gets to write a paragraph.

And for those who love their films spoiled, well you never know whether it is all Leonardo’s dream or not, maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Want to sit through adverts, film trailers, some idiot** dropping their peanut M&Ms on the floor and shouting “Bollocks!” about 45 minutes into the film, and 2 hours and 28 minutes of people having a bit of a kip? If that’s your idea of a good day out then go make some god damned vinegar and pour it up your nose. So would ARM recommend this?

No. It’s a pile of shite.


* which I would’ve done if they didn’t go to bed late and sleep in until 11:45 am.

** that was me.

Sunday, 29 August 2010

And the wonder begins

Things are odd, and full of wotsits. If it wasn’t for my incredibly sane brain then I think I would be chewing the furniture and shouting “Don’t be a pussy – get up!”

I love wotsits.

And what the hell am I doing posting this rubbish at 00:54 when I need to get up early tomorrow????

Am I truly mad?*




* don’t answer that.

Thursday, 26 August 2010

Elbow bonkers charabanc shenanigans!

I would just like to congratulate the rotund Indian gentleman with the infeasibly wide elbows for entertaining me on train home. It was a delight to be sat on and smell your elbows from finsbury park to Hatfield!

That's why I turned the music right up!

Wednesday, 25 August 2010

British Telecom cold calling mistake

This is so funny!!!

Soooo funny!

Sunday, 15 August 2010

DJ Hixxy

Where can I get? Awesome isn’t the word!

Moah Piss

Reflecting more on the wotsit post earlier yesterday I remembered about another incident involving piss and exceptional embarrassment that I’d now like to share with you all.

This happened many years ago, when I was young and not covered in piss.

Picture the scene, living in a flat, with communal hallway. I had ordered an Indian Takeaway as you do.

Being young and unable to control myself piss-wise, I had a little accident in the bathroom, and managed to spray piss all over my trousers. Again. As you do.

“BING BONG!” goes the intercom, signalling arrival of tasty takeaway food.

I lurch out of the bathroom, furiously dabbing at my trousers. The girlfriend is on sofa watching TV. I shout “Can you get the door? I’m covered in piss!!!” at the top of my voice.

Typically, she says “No”, so I furiously dab more at the trousers as I get to the front door. “I’m all covered in piss!” I complain.

I then open the front door….. expecting then to run to the main door and let the delivery guy in.

And you can guess the rest, can’t you?

Door opens. I look up. OMG. It’s the delivery dude.

We never re-ordered from there.

Get your rocks off! For Free!

Ok then, how would you like to go on an exotic holiday? For free? Yes, sure you would be thinking I am now just a spam site or something.

Ok, let’s try something more unbelievable…

Free sex? And lap-dancing in Amsterdam? For free?

Yes. Ok, not for us normal people. You have to be one of the little band of “disabled” people (of whom there are millions remember, you don’t get Incapacity Benefit just by telling the doc you feel a bit lazy and can he write you off as crippled for a bit, mate) who happen not to get be getting any.

According to this report some local councils are using our hard earned money to send a bunch of “clients” off to see some, ahem, ladies in Amsterdam.

Awww. Bless them.

We all know money is made from paper, and paper comes from trees, and trees grow; therefore in their demented logic money also grows on trees and is therefore abundant.

There there’s this:

In the course of 12 months, one man with mental health problems from Norwich received a holiday in Tunisia, a subscription to an internet dating site, driving lessons, and expensive art materials.

And poor mentally ill man. Must has been traumatic whatever caused him to go bonkers and start chewing the furniture, eh?


the man received the funding on top of his state benefits, after suffering from psychiatric problems when his wife asked for a divorce.


I’m going to bash my head into the fridge door again.

Saturday, 14 August 2010



You need to have proper ‘phones on, or a handily bigly sub.

It stirs emotions. Don’t play while drinking soup or snorkelling. Ok?

Wildlife Park Advert Fail!

If you are ever near Shepreth, please don’t go to their wildlife park. Why? Roaming badgers playing the vuvuzela backwards? Hoards of randy giraffes attacking the donkey population?

No, it’s worse than all that put together and stapled to David Mellor.

Apostrophe abuse.


Yes, you can book Birthday Party’s here. Like if you’d want to. I would like my kids to grow up with some vague sense of right and wrong, to find the right guy and settle down, open a sandwich shop that sells paninis, teas and coffees, and not ONCE even thinks about paying that little bit extra for the apostrophe to be added.

Look, you don’t say you have owl’s, tiger’s, donkey’s and rabbit’s, do you? So take your party’s and shove them up your left nostril!!!!

No wonder it’s free

I was browsing my iphone (3GS, not a 4 broken antennae job!) apps the other day while waiting for a train to take me to someplace secret – pssst, it’s my secret spy volcano rocket base – when I came across this interesting thing:


Yes, you can now download Steve Davis Poo for nothing at all! Fantastic.

Aside : should it be Steve Davis’ Poo?

Aside : I’ll get my coat.

Sandwich Shop’s

Hello. Don’t visit this shop.


Not unless you want to have some god damned panini’s. Fuck. And this place is owned by the husband of a teacher at my girls’ school! Maybe she liked marrying a moron.

Still, at least he didn’t have more than 1 specials.


Oops. He did.

Do people never think these days?

Telegraph Newspaper Online Idiots


Yep, even the on-line dead tree press are still employing illiterate airbenders, aren’t they? Yes, says the so-called journalist* but it passed the spell checker. Effing moron. With nobs on.


* as in can copy / paste from Wikipedia without engaging brain. Here’s the Independent doing a nice splash about the history of The Bill Chill Festival which used to be called the Wanky Balls Festival, don’t you know?

Ingredients of Vinegar

Hello and welcome to ARM’s cookery course. Today we are going to make vinegar. Have you got all of the ingredients you’ll need?

What’s that? You don’t really need any ingredients because it’s really easy and could be made by accident?

You are obviously a fecking moron! You need lots and lots and lots of ingredients to make vinegar!


I mean, where’s your nuts? And celery? Jesus wept, you’ve gone and forgotten the milk, eggs and fish again haven’t you? You twonk!

And WTF is mustrad?

Incidentally, if you have made vinegar using mustard, fish, and celery please go away very quietly and slap yourself repeatedly with a fridge. Thank you.