Blog years are a bit like dog years. Except they are longer, much much longer. On average a blog year is like twenty real ones. Which puts me firmly in my forties, and in the midst of a mid-life crisis.

I could have tried a sabbatical. Or tried being nice for a change. But no. Instead I decided on something of a Living-TV-style makeover. A pretty fucking severe one, even if I say so myself.

There have been a couple of changes in the background, which you should not notice. My RSS feed is now burned through Feedburner, which should not affect anyone, but new subscribers can use the buttons to the right to get the feed through the RSS reader of their choice. This means I can do more with the feed in time (multimedia folks!), but I can also track you lot much better and therefore massage my ego in times of sorrow.

As well as being my friend on Facebook, there is now also a button to subscribe to the Podcasts in iTunes, for those of you that have iTunes. I am currently trying to convince Fat Jim to appear in the second one, but he thinks he sounds a bit nasally, so I will continue to work on him over the next week or so. Watch this space.

There are also some new buttons at the bottom of each post, which you can make disappear if they are annoying you, but they make it much easier for you to tell people how wonderful I am. I know how hard it can be trying to recite URL’s over the phone to all your friends. So this one is for you, loyal readers.

Unfortunately, due to cunting spammers getting hold of my email address (and my spam filter still letting through fifty spam emails a day, despite it also stopping over a hundred), I have had to create a new email address, which I have included on the right. Take note if you are one of my very infrequent correspondents.

And I know.

It is a bit..well..RED, isn’t it?

I am obviously new to ‘design’, and so, despite pinching bits and pieces of code from all over the interwebs, it is quite possible I have fucked this up massively. If something appears wrong to you, or doesn’t work as expected please let me know. Unless you use Internet Explorer, in which case, get a proper browser!

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Why do people make them?

I know why people watch them, obviously, I would probably have started watching Big Brother if the celebrity versions did not exist, but why would you want to make one? Performance anxiety before the event puts you under enough pressure as it is. The last thing you need is the added pressure of potentially appearing camera shy.

Have you noticed that you never see a sex tape where the bloke suffers from a touch of the Peles? Or ‘arrives’ a little early. I would like to watch one, just once, for the inevitable ego boost it would provide. Surely they must be out there?

How about Brad and Angelina starring in “Sorry. It’s not you Ange, I’ve had a bit too much to drink and it’s been a really long week.”

However, if you did have a sex tape of you and your partner, when would you actually watch it? It’s not like you don’t know what’s going to happen, so there is no suspense. There is no element of surprise to be had. It’s not as if you can tuck a home-made sex tape away with recordings of the wedding or family birthday parties.

“Shall we watch our wedding video again?”

“Nah, I’d rather watch that slightly disappointing shag we had two years ago, you know the one where you do that thing with that wotsit.”

Let us be honest here, no-one likes the way they look on camera, so instead of watching the frantic rutting, you would be making notes on how to improve the lighting in the bedroom. So it is sort of pointless to watch it with your partner.

Of course, you certainly can not watch it with another partner. Imagine going round to your new girlfriends for dinner. She has cooked for you, there is some wine, the atmosphere is pretty fucking romantic. Then she suggests putting on a film.

“What are you thinking? Love Actually? Another romantic comedy perhaps?”

“No, I was thinking we could watch a tape of me having sex with my last boyfriend, there’s a really good bit an hour and twenty minutes in…”

The last thing you would want to see is your new girlfriend getting nailed to the bed by her last boyfriend (this is why I will never date Paris Hilton). Except perhaps her getting nailed by her next boyfriend, but that is a whole other post right there.

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