There’s been a lot of hate on Platform recently.  Some of it justified, a lot of it hilarious, and most of it dotted with weird spelling mistaeks.  LOLZ.  At times like this it gets hard for all of us, so I’ve put together some things which always make me feel better when I’m down.  I like to think this is what Julie Andrews would say if she was a blogger on the cusp of 2010, and often compared bacon sandwiches to Nicole Kidman.  Which is probably EXACTLY what she likes doing.


Snow is basically pretty annoying.  It’s just cold rain - thanks, Michael Fish - and makes the bottom of your trousers wet, you slip over on the ice when you’re drunk, and pretty soon it’s gone from pure white into this mushy brown slop that looks a bit like diarrhea.  Still, there’s nothing like the moment when you look out your window and see those cotton flakes falling all over the bare trees, melting on the grey pavement.  I’m actually looking at snow right now, and it’s pretty much the best I’ve felt since about an hour ago when it was also snowing and I was looking at it.  Man, that was a good moment.  When it actually settles it’s so exciting that everyone freaks out and cancels all their plans “because of the weather”, just so they can run around in it, get really cold and then climb back into bed to warm up.  However this happiness only applies because it snows so rarely in this country, if the land was white on a regular basis I think we’d all get really annoyed, and start installing radiators on the pavement. Or asking Boris to blow all that empty hot air that comes out his mouth onto the ground.

Oh yeah!

I went there!


If you give up meat, then good on you.  No seriously, Vegan Jules,  I appreciate the statement you are making, and you should be proud of the fact you’re changing your digestive routine in order to say something about the planet.  However, you must also be aware that you are missing out on one of the most beautiful sights this world has to offer -  crispy bacon pressed between soft floury white bread, dripping with ketchup.  Yeah gross blah blah blah, sorry about describing it in full meaty detail, but it is absolute perfection.  It’s so simple, almost elegant, the Nicole Kidman (she’s elegant, right?) of culinary craftsmanship.  Well Nicole Kidman if she had a bit of fat on her, and was at all fun to eat, and dripped ketchup down your chin in a hilarious and lovable manner.  So basically not Nicole Kidman, but it’s a bloody sandwich, what did you ruddy expect?


Man this stuff kills me.  I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve been faced with a torrent of abuse, or been trapped in a situation where I know I am DEFINITELY in the right, and haven’t been able to own the insult.  There should be a course/self help book called ‘Own Your Own Insults’.  Everyone who went would be nicknamed ‘Owners’ and there’d be one guy called Owen, who people would take the piss out  because Owner sounds a bit like Owen.  Gradually this starts to wear Owen down, until one day someone, probably Gary - Gary is such a douche - takes it too far.  Owen will stand up, point his finger in Gary’s smarmy face and say, “Listen man, you might find it funny that my original name is similar to everyone else’s nicknames, but that’s only because you’re projecting your insecurities onto me, yeah?  You’re jealous because you’re the only one in here who’s not in Ownership of their insults, and I threaten you because I’m doubly in ownership!” (He starts to lose Claire and Denise here, but gets them back with the following).  ”Why don’t you trot along to the toilet, because that’s the only place you’re in ownership of anything.  (Next bit whispered menacingly) You’re the owner of a turd”.  See, I could go somewhere like that and totally learn how to do amazing comebacks and no one would ever stiff me again.  Unless I asked them really nicely.


This happens to me on a regular basis.  In fact sometimes I think my subconscious deliberately makes me lose stuff so I will have the joy of finding it again, and be filled with holy relief that I didn’t leave it on a bus or throw it out with the leftover bacon (AS IF THERE WOULD BE ANY!!!11)  I constantly misplace my wallet or phone, and spend 20 minutes completely destroying my room (normally when I really really really need to leave the house), only to find it was in my bag all along.  That brief moment in between thinking you lost it, and realising you’ve just wasted 20 minutes of your life and completely wrecked your humble abode, sure is sweet.  Yeah you were too late for the job interview, yeah that small window of joy leaves you quicker than a Lothario lover on your Spanish all-girls WILD 2009 holiday, but at least you bloody found it!!!! (Cue insane cackle).


Now I’m sure some of you have perfect families, where it’s just string after string of incredible and life-affirming experiences, soudtracked by Snow Patrol, where you all wear matching jumpers and hold hands, and then later indulge in a suicide pact.  Well not all of us are that lucky.  Some of us have familial relationships that are strained, or even non-existent.  That’s why it’s so ridonkulously amazing when you manage to have a good time with some of them, when you manage not bicker about money, or be spurred into arguments by your inherent jealousy towards your stupid rich brother, or even avoid the constant comparing your mother does between you and every other daughter of every other family she knows.  Those weird days where you all just get along, and actually make each other laugh are pretty insanely great.  Maybe your sister will make a jibe about your Mum’s cooking that’s actually so witty even she finds it hilarious, maybe your Dad will start reminiscing about his teenage shenanigans, maybe your Mum will get drunk and request that you all ‘play X factor’, maybe you’ll do a suicide pact.

Cherish those special moments, kids.

Bye x