Teething problems for Google's latest venture

Fifteen minutes of shame

The promised dating update will have to wait a bit longer, possibly forever, because it's proving harder than expected to write. Instead: TV!

Embarrassing Bodies is enjoying another run on Channel 4 at the moment. I've blogged about this programme before but I still find it remarkable that they have so many willing participants. Last Friday's show, for example, featured a man who was experiencing unpleasant odours emanating from his bottom. He bravely visited the clinic and said that he was worried about anal leakage. So far, so good. Boxes are being ticked here. The doctor duly prised open the man's buttocks and noted that he was 'quite dirty' before checking for possible causes. Some kind of infection? A loose sphincter? These were quickly ruled out. Soon, having found nothing wrong, he was forced to sheepishly announce to Mr Smelly Bum that his only problem was not wiping his arse properly.

Now: even allowing for the fact that he may have signed the release form prior to the examination, wouldn't you do everything in your power to stop that footage being used? Wouldn't you drop to your knees before the production team and offer to sacrifice your first born in exchange for the tape? I mean, if you're assisting the viewers by highlighting a genuine problem then I take my hat off to you, but this guy was essentially waving to the camera and saying "Hey, I’m a fifty year old man who can’t even wipe his arse! Why not stop me and say hi?" It would come as no surprise at all to me to hear that, following the broadcast, his entire family had gassed themselves out of shame in his (slightly whiffy) Ford Mondeo.

Having crabs is nothing to shout about

I have tinkered with the layout again because I didn't like the old one much. I think this font is easier to read and I was also less than fond of the tiny comments link, and its location, in the old layout. Plus I get bored of things easily. A change is as good as a holiday, even if this one roughly equates to ten minutes in Cromer.

A layout change usually signifies an effort on my part, albeit a short-lived one, to post more regularly. And so it is again. I need to sharpen my brain a bit so you can expect a few more non-visual posts in the coming weeks, starting soon with an update on my internet dating adventures that will hopefully make more sense than the preceding post.

Meeting people is easy

Nothing to do with my comic project, just a one off.

Introducing the Twee-shirt

Are you desperate for new Twitter followers? Do you know someone who is? Well, I have the answer!

Oh yes, I am going to sell thousands YES THOUSANDS of these. Fully customisable, the perfect party attire. Pre-orders welcome. Shall we say £10? Yes, that sounds like great value. YES.

YES!

Willing to consider carnivorous Christian chain smokers

After receiving some motivating encouragement I decided to bite the bullet this evening regarding online dating. I didn't exactly beat my reservations into submission, but was able to sit on them for long enough to sign up with the much vaunted eHarmony site. It's different from most dating sites in that you fill in an extensive questionnaire in order to give them a highly detailed character profile from which they carefully match you with other users.

The questionnaire consists mainly of statements that you have to rate on a seven point scale of 'not at all important' to 'very important' using radio buttons. There are also several lists from which you must choose the three or four things that are most important to you. Doing this for any length of time gets pretty irritating, and the whole thing took almost exactly an hour to complete, but I was quite interested to see how many ladies would have the dubious fortune of falling within my carefully tailored criteria.

Now, you're probably expecting me to say that there weren't any but no - it's not even as good as that. Instead, after all that effort, I got a short message informing me that my profile had been rejected because I didn't fall within their list of matchable character types. Huh! Even the most optimistic person would find it hard not to interpret that as 'fuck off mate, you've not no chance.' It wasn't a particularly polite message either, and there was no hint of an apology for wasting my time, but they did explain that their service was not appropriate for everyone. Quite what group of weirdos and sexual deviants I have inadvertently added my name to I don't know, but I suppose I'll have to cheerily assume that the site is geared towards 'normal' people who throw dinner parties and talk about wine as though it's important.

I wouldn't say I've been deterred, but it does suggest that honesty is less important than heavy compromise.

Things I haven't told you

Although I appear to be a rather neglectful blog custodian, this is not entirely true. I think about posting quite often. In the past week or two I have come close to writing about the following things:

Semi-transparent leggings
Perhaps I completely missed it, but nobody else seems to be talking about semi-transparent leggings. WHY IS NO ONE ELSE TALKING ABOUT SEMI-TRANSPARENT LEGGINGS? Am I really the only person who has noticed them? Does no one else wring their eyes in utter disbelief when they see women / PRE-TEEN GIRLS WITH THEIR MOTHERS wearing them in public? If you haven't seen them, they are exactly as described. Gone, it seems, are the days when women worried about visible panty lines. Now they're happy to go out with - behold! - visible panties:

This is not an exaggeration. This is exactly what they look like. The first time I witnessed this I just felt sorry for the poor girl who had had her skirt stolen. Well, it seemed like the only rational explanation. But then, a week later, another girl. And another. It dawned on me that this was no tragic story of hit-and-run clothing theft; it was intentional. Even Lady fucking Gaga would blush. As if normal leggings - the single most unflattering item of women's clothing ever created - weren't bad enough! Words fail me.

Internet dating
On a cold evening in late December I momentarily considered internet dating as a genuine prospective activity for the new year. This had happened before but usually only lasted long enough to allow my better judgement to clear its throat, await my attention and then bellow: DON'T BE SO BLOODY RIDICULOUS. This time, however, the thought persisted and still hasn't gone away. Why not? Has my mind finally twigged that a lifetime alone might not be much fun? If so, serious resistance is being offered by years of self-conditioning. It's like those cartoons where a devil and an angel stand on each shoulder and slog it out.

A: Well it won't hurt to join for a month or so, just to see what happens. You're not obliged to take it any further. What's the problem?

D: YOU CAN'T EVEN TALK TO CHECKOUT GIRLS YOU LOSER!

A: If you don't make the effort now, you'll only regret it later on.

D: EVEN SEE-THROUGH LEGGINGS WEARERS HAVE TOO MUCH CLASS TO GO OUT WITH YOU!

If there's a ceasefire any time soon, I'll let you know.

Project 2010
I have, I'm fairly sure, decided what my next project is going to be. Remember Doormat Picnic, my ill-fated webcomic? Yeah, it was rubbish. But I know I can do a lot better. So now I'm planning to make a long comic book story without the time pressure of posting it online at regular intervals. That's it really. It does mean, however, that you're unlikely to see any evidence of my creative output for a while. (Stop cheering. It's rude.) Sorry, then, if you were holding out for the resumption of Creative Year 'cause it ain't gonna happen.

So yeah, I thought about posting on all of those subjects. Then I thought better of it.