Whatever Happened to Duffy?

So, the WordPress prompt of the day is ‘Mercy’ and when I think of mercy my natural reaction is to get on a podium and dance.

And to think, if I’d decided to study Politics I may have had a different reaction to the concept of mercy. A world where Alice is unmoved by the above song. What a sad world that would be.

It did however lead me to wonder: where is Duffy now? Where is Duffy, and Dido and Celine Dion and everyone with a D under five characters?

Well it transpires I wasn’t the first one to think this big question (about Duffy that is. No one seems to have a clue about Dido and I’m quite sure Celine is making plump middle aged women cry in Las Vagas still). Duffy wise, Digital Spy has already addressed this point.

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I didn’t even have to look hard for the article, on a Bing search (don’t judge, I’m too lazy to switch) it came up as second in results under the keyword “Duffy”.

The article paints a story that is heard all too often in the music industry. Too much fame, too quickly, leading to breakdowns and even firing her own publicity team. She went quiet and then fired off a batch of new singles in early 2017 following a break from music. I know, I was completely none-the-wiser either. (If you want the full article click here.)

So there you go. Who says you don’t learn stuff from this blog.

 

Written in response to the WordPress prompt of the day: Mercy

Our Ancestors Discussed Death – Why Can’t We?

“Rule one of life: we’re all going to die. Accept it and move on.” – our ancestors felt free and informed enough to discuss the topic of death, so why can’t we?

To read my new opinion piece for The National Student, click here:

Our ancestors openly discussed death – we should too

50 things to do instead of watching The Great British Bake Off

Recent article written for The National Student (a shortened version of the 100 point list I did last year):

50 things to do instead of watching The Great British Bake Off

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A Very British Complaint Letter to Cadburys Chocolate

The below complaint letter got me a £2 compensation voucher. I mean sure it took a bit of time to put together and yes the postage stamp was close to the value of the voucher. Plus the fact the snack bars themselves cost £1. So technically I’m actually working at a loss right now. Hmm, note to self; you cannot make a career from witty complaint letters.

 

Cadbury UK Consumer Relations,
Bournville, Birmingham, B30 2LU

 

Dear Sir or Madam,

I’ll keep this simple and to the point (because as riveting as complaint letters are, we’d all rather be somewhere else right now). I recently bought a box of Chocolate Chip Brunch bars and they are a bit pants.

As I know ‘pants’ can be used to describe a variety of situations from cold tea to literal pants, let me diversify. I bought a six-pack box in Poundland in Swindon (bear with me, that’s not the pants bit), however upon biting into the first bar at work I noticed the snack didn’t quite taste right. I opened the bar fully to discover it had gone off. I checked the sell by on the wrapper but the Brunch Bar appeared to be well within date. This is what it looked like:

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You can imagine the disgust and horror when I realised my hard-earned pound had gone to waste. I need my chocolate hit so very badly, it is often the only thing standing between me and a terribly put together advertising campaign. Imagine if, instead of a Gorilla, Cadbury had decided to use a dancing Stingray reading a recital of Keats for the iconic advert? Besides making for a difficult display in Cadbury World it wouldn’t quite make the mark. That is how crucial a mid-morning snack is to both me and my company’s marketing strategy. It’s ruddy big stuff.

All things considered I think you’ll agree that these Brunch Bars are of a pretty pants standard. Please can you check standards of production and do whatever needs fixing, pronto.

 

Yours Faithfully,

Alice E. Bennett

Come Sit With Me

Come sit with me. Come sit here in the caffeine filled haze we call paradise. The legal high that our fathers and their fathers before have relished, for here we are one. The mothers, the students, the disapproving men with broadsheets in hand, everyone has a home here.

Let me pass you this extra I have acquired. Do you take milk? The sugar is over there. The chair next to me is a little worn and mismatched, but that is the norm. Brush off the crumbs of the previous tenant and join me in weekend conversation.

The background music will lull you into a false pretence of your own class and status. The type of music you recognise but do not know. They are the backing beats that serve as melodic distraction from the mess surrounding us. I have heard in booksheleved corners that it improves the taste, what do you think?

See that man behind my left shoulder? I know him to be a regular. The frustrated writer who huffs and sighs over work that will never make it to print. Chomping on cheap nuts and downing brown goo in paper cups, for he cannot afford the china. He is a freeloader of the establishment, clinging desperately to an image that cannot be sustained. I remember when he used to sip on only the finest quality beans and nibble on pastries with young women, but those days are gone. We have all changed since those days.

My friend, you look a little troubled. Don’t be. In this world we are all addicts of our own making. I only seek to show you the truth that lurks in the steam. Save your pity for Africa, it is a wasted emotion in this Latino supplied space. I see you have finished your drink. Would you like another? It would be my honour. They serve only the finest cheap substances here, it is why we never leave.

I am so happy you came to sit with me my partner. Now stress no more and relax, the fresh coffee will be here soon.

 

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Nablopomo Day 23: Brexit Strikes Again

First off, play this (at any rate because it’s a ruddy awesome song):

 

I think we can all safely say we wish the past six months never happened. To one extent or another we want to wake up and hear about Trump’s new reality TV show, or discover that Nigel Farage was actually the mind’s conjuring of all those scary puppets from childhood. And yet, despite our hopes, we wake up every morning to news that the UK is going to turn into Kazakhstan and the wider world into the Planet of the Apes (that is, unless it’s already happened and we can’t see it… )

 

Where did this massive screw up of a political year start? Britain, that’s where. The land where monumental things happen. Vaccinations, Democracy, the National Health Service, they all came from the UK. On June 23rd 2016 we in Britain started the ball rolling by voting to leave the European Union. Our society hasn’t been the same since.

Here are some photos I’ve taken in recent months that highlight instances which, in my opinion, demonstrate the impact of the Brexit vote on the average Joe and Joyce.

 

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New proposed signage at airports/Dover
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Housing markets – investors turn to Lego as a profitable investment
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Cutbacks at World Heritage Sites
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Making clothes out of Gran’s old curtains suddenly becomes fashionable
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Widespread wheat shortages
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Museums sell off highly valuable collections
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This
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No one can afford public transport
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Special offers
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‘Cos cheese rationing be in fashion like it’s 1939
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Cut backs on mainstream education
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Oh sweet Jesus, not the alcohol!
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Communal burning rituals? Yep, sounds about right. Soon it’ll be the only way to stay warm.

 

Yeah, so far in the past six to nine months I have to say it’s not looking too good for our little nation. Don’t worry though, if we all stay positive and pull together I’m sure we can get through this and come out a stronger, better nation. Stick together Britain, we will prevail!

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Forget it, we’re screwed.