Tag Archives: Michael Jackson

Michael Jackson & Gangnam Style

21 Nov

Last night we attended Spud’s GCSE Certificate Presentation Evening.  I’d give you a photograph but the back of even my beautiful baby’s head is pretty dull.

The Chair of Governors is an ex-policeman.  In his speech about the students’ future, he misquoted Churchill, gave us his life story, and warned us that prisons only produce prisoners, leading to a heated debate in the car on the way home on the merits of prison and rehabilitation.

The debate reminded me of a couple of videos I wanted to share with you months ago but couldn’t, because I was unable to upload them to my blog.  My browser has settled down now, so here they are.  Enjoy!

Here’s an except from their Wikipedia entry:

Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center (CPDRC) is a prison in Cebu, in Cebu Province, Philippines. It is a maximum security prison facility with a capacity for 1600 inmates.

The prison became well known for its rehabilitation program in 2005-2010 based on a program of choreographed exercise routines for the inmates. Known as CPDRC Dancing Inmates, the recordings of the various routines of the prisoners online supervised by the head of the prison Byron F. Garcia rendered them an international online celebrity sensation and phenomenon.

And just to show how current they are, here’s another:


Smile And The World Smiles With You; Dissect It And People Ask ‘Who’s That Freak?’

11 Jul

I read this quote today: 

What sunshine is to flowers, smiles are to humanity. These are but trifles, to be sure; but, scattered along life’s pathway, the good they do is inconceivable.

-Joseph Addison

So here you go:


According to Mr. Higgins’ Honors Algebra II class at Norwalk High School (07-08) 

The smile of the “smiley face” is in the shape of a parabola.

The smiley face was designed in 1964 in Worcester, Massachusettes by Harvey Ball, and has become a crazy-huge symbol all over the world.  

The equation for a parabola is: (x-h)^2=4p(y-k)             (h,k)=vertex    p=distance from vertex to focus

I thought I would do some research into smiling (gotta love that Google button).  This is from http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_qa4128/is_200311/ai_n9341157/:

…smiling isn’t just for fun-it’s a matter of survival. Scientists have discovered that newborn infants, even those who are born blind, know how to smile […] A baby’s smile is designed to attract and hold mother’s attention; it is an infant’s way of bonding with the mother and encouraging her care.

Babies may be on to something. Research shows that smiling is healthy because it can trigger positive feelings. Perhaps that is also why smiling is contagious. When you smile at people, you’ll notice that they generally smile back. But they will not respond to a frown by frowning or to a scowl by scowling. (Try it and see!)

According to The Dating Rule Book, the smile is the sexiest muscle.  However…

Research has shown that it is not enough to just “smile”, humans are fine tuned to being able to subconsciously tell whether a smile is genuine or fake, and the latter is usually responded to by dissent. So it is crucial you practice your smiles, so that a genuine smile would seem genuine (seems easy unless you have severe muscle malfunctions) and a fake smile would seem genuine (as you can guess, a lot tougher). So try thinking of a something horrible (ie. of the economic shituation in America) and try smiling to it, if you can fake a genuine smile with that thought in your head, you’re prepared to take on the world.


QTMama says

A smile creates an atmosphere.  It can be so many different atmospheres too.  From unity to friendship to the flirty “Hi there!” to a thank you to the your welcome … I could go on and on.  And the thing is, smiles are contagious.  You smile at someone and odds are, they smile back.   A smile thrown at someone solicits one in return.  It costs nothing and the best of all?  It feels good to have someone smile at you. 

We may think some people have nothing to smile about – but they do it anyway:

Some people smile because they have good teeth:


So let’s get started:


The idea for this post came from a Quote of the Day in my Inbox and the glorious sunshine I woke up to.  While I’ve been writing this the sun has been abducted by ugly clouds threatening rain and a wind that even I can’t rival: if ever there was an argument against bringing science to the masses, this isn’t it; it’s just coincidence.

Have a nice day, y’all; d’ya hear?

I’b Godd A Code

30 Apr

You bay hab sub trouble understanding be today; I’m fud ob a code.  I hate habbing a code.  By face leaks, by eye is swoden shut, I can’t sleed and I cough so buch I need reinforced bloobers.   If I eber see dat man again, I may hab to kid him. 

I followed Viv’s excellent advice (see comments) and kicked the Hub out of bed in the middle of the night to make me a hot toddy.  He is a master at the art of mixing alcohol and hot water, and it’s one of the reasons I won’t let him escape.  I am seriously sleep deprived this week, in spite of the revivifying properties of rum and lemon, and I am a little disappointed that the mucus wouldn’t let a poem in for the penultimate day of napowrimo. The prompt was to write about something in the news, but yesterday was a slow news day, if I remember correctly: nothing going on but a little political fallout from the most inept politician of a generation; and in the evening, just three blokes chatting about what they’re going to be doing next Friday.   However, writing poems about events in the news is one of my favourite things to do, so I have a few that I have written over the years to share with you.

The first one was originally a series of senryu that I wrote as events occurred; once Mr Blair resigned, I thought they would work better as an overview of his time in office.  Apologies to my non-UK resident readers, who may not understand the references or the reason for the invective.  Also, apologies to those who may have seen some of them before because they have already been posted on my blog (I’m not too worried, though, as I only had three readers when I started).

Ha!  Talk about a Freudian slip – I accidentally left out the ‘s’ when I typed ‘Mr Blair resigned’; look what’s left: ‘Mr Blair reigned.’


Lies, Damned Lies and New Labour

The Blair Which? Project,
One: EC or not EC? 
Was it a question?

The Blair Which? Project,
Two: To bomb or not to bomb? 
Iraq’s the question.

The Blair Which? Project,
Three: To loot or not to loot? 
Why, without question.

The Blair Which? Project,
On Going: To freely duck
each awkward question.

Blair’s Bonus Project,
Ongoing: To harass the
usurping PM.


Prime Minister Brown’s
Day: so many decisions,
so little spine.



 This one refers to the huge row over MP expenses.

Parliament Fiddles as Britain Burns

Marx is writhing in his grave:
Government is the
odium of the masses.



 Michael Jackson Died

Troubled man.  Childhood
fame is not worth the gravestone
it is written on.



An Explanation For The 1000 Students Taking The 2009 Politics Exam Who Complained That It Was Unfair Because They Didn’t Know The Meaning Of The Word ‘Despotic’

Pol Pot
Bad lot


Future of Britain:



Good News 

Idi Amin’s dead.
Enough said.



Today is the last day of nablopomo (National Blog Posting Month).  I succeeded in writing a post a day but failed miserably in the task of commenting on at least ten other  nablopomo posts; but I did squeeze in a few posts on the theme, ‘BIG’.  I failed because I was overtaken by my enthusiasm for napowrimo.

Sadly, today is also the last day of napowrimo.  I won’t be posting a daily poem anymore, though I will revert to my habit of posting an occasional one as the mood takes me.  I have thoroughly enjoyed the challenge of having to write a poem a  day.  I’m not sure I succeeded, but it was fun trying.  I would like to thank everyone who commented on my poems and the rest of my regular audience who don’t care much for poetry but tolerated it anyway.  I would also like to thank my husband my children my dead mum my dead dad my deceased nans my dog my dead cats (3) my time in South Africa awful as I sometimes found it cheese & onion crisps chocolate (love you forever, darling) BGT this country’s ridiculous government toilets bees You Tube snoring Shakespeare Mango Groove my determined to help me get a job Launch Pad tutor and the town of Stockport.  Sorry if I missed anyone out.

Determined to stick to the principle of writing and posting the poem on the same day at least one more time, I cobbled together this from the final prompt, ‘free day,’ as in, write whatever you like; you’re on your own now, dear. 

Just when I think my South African collection is finally complete, up pops another prompt to remind me that I really ought to see a therapist to get my time in South Africa out of my system once and for all: for me, the word ‘free’ always conjures the image of the first free and fair South African election, in which the Hub and I queued for twelve hours to vote – bizarrely, one of my happiest memories.  Tory Boy was also there but Spud Bud was two years and one drunken night away (just kidding, sweetie pie, honest). 

It is actually called ‘1994’ but the underline cuts it in half.  I typed the number out for the blog and I’m thinking of keeping it because I like it’s Orwellian overtone.



Free at last!
Free at last:
random deaths;
the odd bomb blast.
Carjack, rape,
home invasion –
all in the name
of emancipation.
Burglar bars,
security gates,
armed response…
…packing crates.
Free at last.
Free at last.
South Africa –
I’m free at last.





%d bloggers like this: