Spotify. Weird name but free shit happens.

The thing about the Gay iPod Challenge (other than it being universally derided and denounced as an unplayable and confusing piece of internet nonsense) was that people moaned about the fact that you couldn't hear the songs when they loaded up. Well I'm sorry about that, you slave driving bastards, but it was hard enough coming up with 2,000 songs and gay scores for them without also having to buy them and encode each and every one of them as an 128kbps mp3 and then upload them to a server somewhere. Someone else can do it. Oh they have done already. So anyway, play the fucking thing. If you've got Spotify installed on your machine (and if you haven't already you're probably thick or slow. Or thick and slow) you can now instantly search for any song that gets loaded by the game.

www.drillboy.co.uk/gayipod

www.spotify.com

Motherfucking John Leslie Time.

Here's another game for you, then. Abuse John Leslie. It's not really a game as such. Or is it? I don't know. All I do know is you get to fuck his face up for him...

http://www.drillboy.co.uk/johnleslie

Go there. Download the picture. Graffiti the picture. Remember: technical skill is not needed here. He may not be knobbing Catherine Zeta-Jones anymore but this is our way of letting the Caledonian rapist know that he's never far from our collective consciousness. Or it would be if I sent this to him, which I probably won't.

THANKS THEN.

Hey Danny, What You Doing? A Blog Test?

Glad you asked. Well, I'm just trying this blog-a-ma-jig out. And eating a whole pack of bourbons. Y'know, I made a promise to myself a few years ago, when I was going through a bit of a tough patch financially. 'Danny,' I said, 'Keep a pack of bourbons in the house every week. That way people will know you're someone. You're a man. You've made it in the world and no-one can deny that.' So yeah... Bourbons maketh the man. Or Cussy Creams at a push. But never Fruit Shortcake. Those are for cunts.

Well this is going well so far... Oh fuck Horne and Corden is on. Thank you BBC3. Thank you so very fucking much. Like I haven't got enough things to worry about already what with maintaining the biscuit levels, and that man that keeps trying to lend me his pen. Now I've got the constant terror that I could be flicking channels and land in the middle of that Ricky Gervais thing they do. Or the joke about the man who is gay. Because that is innately funny, obviously, being gay. Walked through The Castro in San Francisco. Almost shit myself laughing... Or that one where Spider Man and Superman are having, you know, like a gay affair, which is, as has previously been discussed, innately hilarious. (Would also point out that Superman and Spider Man would never meet, owing to them being from DC and Marvel Comics respectively, but, y'know, I could do without you lot thinking I'm a bigger geek than you probably do already. See how I try to slip that in without being held properly accountable? Fucking Teflon, me...)

So, yeah. Biscuits, and anger. That's how I roll...