The New X factor judges, and Louis, who is possibly the most boring person on Earth.

So far, I've watched the first two episodes of the NEW new X factor, along with god knows how many people who've got nothing better to do. And as everybody should know, they've replaced three of the old judges with new celebrities. But they've kept Louis Walsh, possibly because they know he'll be homeless without the X factor and they feel sorry for him.
Pah, even if he does retire because there's nothing he can do except for turning twins with pineapple wigs into twins with pineapple wigs who sung on Eurovision, he 'd still be pretty rich. He could live in Ireland.

So the first judge is Louis Walsh, the last remaining one from the original three (Simon Cowell, Sharon Osbourne and him), and also the worst.

Everytime he talks its either 'I think you're really good', like its the most original and biggest revelation ever. Or 'I think you chould be in a band'. And 'You're just not good enough'.
He is not worth listening to, everytime he opens his mouth, me and my mum just groan and completely zone out. He's possibly the worst person to have as a mentor as well. Three words: Wagner and Jedward. You do not want to be in the same category as them.

Then there's Tulisa Constostavlos, I think. Her surname is dead confusing.

People have been comparing her to Cheryl Cole a lot. But I think thats an insult to Tulisa.
She belongs to a band called N-Dubz, they rap, she sings, they rap, she sings. Its okay, I like their songs.
It seems like she knows what she's talking about, plus she doesn't look like she wants to cry all the time.

Kelly Rowland , the American.

Well from the cuts that have made it to TV, she thinks a lot of people are 'so cuuuuuuuuute' and likes saying 'baby'. Oh and a lot of guys seem to be in love with her.

And then finally there's Gary Barlow

Possibly the most frustrating member of the judging panel. Its like he can't smile, or joke, or laugh. Like one of those cool kids whose been chosen to go on geek challenge, they're there, but they have to act 'cool' and 'above it all'.
He's imitating Simon, pretending to me mean and nasty. But he just ends up looking desperately out of place.


The thing is, I like the X factor. They have some good singers who audition, and some clips which are quite funny. And although the judges aren't perfect, and some are just insanely annoying - it does make the show more interesting.
If only they kicked Louis off though.

Most common ways Picnik is used. (Photo editor for those who don't have photoshop)

1, The first timer.

The original

The 'first timer'

This is when the person is using the program for the first time. They like to try everything out and usually add a pointless caption like 'Love and Peace is me'

2.The lyric

The original

And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

This is the one where they get a picture of themselves (again). Put some meaningless lyrics onto it.

What I did was google -lyrics windmill-.

Copy and pasted a part of a verse that had the word 'windmill' and added it on.

3. The colour zoomer.

The original

Colour zoomer.

This is the worst when you have a load of friends in the photo. Its the way where you can get spotlight without cropping people out obviously.You basically make everything black and white except your face. That way you can pretend that you care about the beautiful scenery but focus on your lovely lovely face.

4. Make someone else look bad.

The original

The 'Making someone else look bad'

This technique is used if you want to look good, well at least compared to the person next to you. Its great, until the person finds out.

Amsterdam. The bags and purses museum. And the TOP 5 'awesome' bags and purses.

There was a cute discreet museum somewhere in the streets in Amsterdam which was an exhibition of bags and purses.
The first room showed you the different techniques of bags, the second I think were fashion bags from the 20 and 21st century, and the third 16th to 19th.
It was, although quite small, one of my favourite museums. Just because of the range of designs of the bags. some were beautiful, some were random, some were outrageous and some were just stupid.

So in the spirit of bags and purses, I am going to do a little browsing and find the 5 most 'awesome' bags and purses. (And why they're awesome)

No 5: London Taxi Clutch

I must admit, I have a fetish for London Cabs, the first time I went to London for about 5 years I was shocked to see so many. I thought they only existed in TV.
Who wouldn't want to carry this around with them (except for maybe be men)? Its a bag in the shape of the cab!

And its £295. Only.


No.4: Metropolitan Cook Book Clutch

 Everybody checks there phone nowadays, so instead looking like everyone else, you can check your phone discreetly while looking like you're reading a cook book.

 And men like women who can cook as well, so maybe they'll be more attracted to you.

And you could totally dig the, 'just walking down the street with a book - smart' look.

Its £959, maybe you could just carry a real book though?


No 3: Blue parrot evening bag

I personally don't like 'bling'.
Perfect if you want to flaunt the fact that you're rich without basically drabbing yourself in diamonds. You could pass of the fact you bought it because its 'adorable'. See? It doesn't seem like you're flaunting this bag because of its 'bling'. Though really, you are. Abnoxious show-off.

Wait for it,
its £3,777. (If its worth that much, you are going to have to slip in how much it costs in converstion- example: 'This adorable bag was only 3777 pounds, its really cute isn't it?)

'Bling'

No. 2: V&V Small Soft Gun Tote

I have a gun, don't mess with me.
$625. To look deadly, without having to own a stupid gun. (To own one legally you have to be licensed, I think, I wouldn't know.)

AND........................... Number 1 is

£680

Just because it reminds me of

True Story: The maths genius who got a bean stuck in his ear.

He will hate me for this, so lets not make the future worse and call him by a fake name. JB, again.

Once upon a time, when he was about 8, he was doing work in his room, and I was elsewhere.
He recently made a rainmaker in school, one of those long used toilet roll filled with beans and the ends taped together.
I think it was the boredom, but he decided to empty the rainmaker. He probably sorted the beans into groups or something.

So, unfortunatley, no one was there to witness this first hand, but he put a red bean in his ear.



He put a red bean in his ear.



Probably, attempting to retrieve the bean from his ear, he used a cotton bud. That only made it worse. The bean only got further in his ear.

We tried vacuuming it out, we literally put a vacuum against his ear but that came to no avail.

So we went to sleep for that day, ignoring that there was a red bean in his ear.

Then my dad came home from work, we had called him earlier about the bean in the ear, and attempted to pick it out. But that was a fail too, so they went to the hospital together.


I just went along with my normal life, went to school, and tried to keep it a secret.
All my friends knew about it by first break, I was torn between amusement and sympathy.


He was put on the waiting list for a surgery to remove the bean. A nurse thought this was outrageous, as he just a kid who needed a simple surgery. So he received the surgery in the same week.

Now I missed out all the fun, because I was busy at school updating my friends on this.

*I was just told that, he needn't have the surgery, he was bribed with chocolate to let the doctor retrieve the bean with some simple tools. But he was scared and said it would tickle. Half an hour was wasted trying to get him to agree, he curled up to mum and said he would prefer to keep the red bean in his ear than let the doctor loose on him.

He had one of those injections which made you unconscious and they removed the red bean from his ear.


Of course, the doctors wouldn't just let us forget about this incident, so they returned the red bean to us, the rightful owners in a little glass bottle.
And JB was presented with a sticker that said 'I was as brave as a lion.'

Pottermore, after 25 days of not-so-patient waiting, I'm in.

I am quite an obsessed Harry Potter fan. So after hearing about this 'Pottermore' site, created by J.K.Rowling with Sony and with exclusive content from her, I was more than keen to apply for it.

There was a 7 day challenge which begun on the 31st of July. It was, over the week, going to let a million people in for beta testing. I answered the question on day one, retrieved the 'magic quill', and earned my place for early beta testing.

Maybe, I turned a little obsessive, checking my email about 5 times a day for my welcome mail - the very mail that would allow me entry.


Doesn't matter now, I've got in now... Woo!

The wand choosing ceremony was sweet, I got a dragon heartstring core and made out of ash.

The sorting hat was the best.

I got into Slytherin!!!

It may not seem so good, they're supposed to be 'cunning', and would do anything to be on top.

My brother, who I am not allowed to talk about, is in Ravenclaw, the house for wisdom/swots.
But I didn't say that.

Mmm, I had to write a short entry about this. I have been complaining about the wait, excited about the prospect for the last 25 days. And my mooning over Pottermore will end here, in this blog entry.



So a little about the Harry Potter world for people who aren't familiar with it. (In my view)

HOGWARTS is an English school for magical people from 11 to 18. Its an extrememly British boarding school with moving staircases. A lot of people in the 'real world' waited for the school letter when they were 11. That was silly of them.

SCHOOL HOUSES
The students are sorted by a talking sorting hat which sings. Singing is very important if you want to come across as smart, except when you're me.

The houses:
GRYFFINDOR, for the brave people. Though a lot of the characters in the story that were in Gryffindor didn't really seem that brave.

HUFFLEPUFF, for the loyal, nice, trustworthy people. Although I'm pretty sure in one of the books it just said they accepted anyone who didn't make the other three houses. So cast-offs.

RAVENCLAW, for the intelligent. And my brother.

SLYTHERIN, for the evil people, like the Voldermort, who's the really evil villain for the whole series. Oh, and Merlin. That famous guy who never existed. And me.



My next entry should be about my Amsterdam trip again. Bye.

Amsterdam trip, part 3. The confessions of a confused heretic.

*Please note that when I say 'wet myself', I mean it figuratively. I have not wetted myself since I was 16.


So one of the 'must-see' attractions was the Amsterdam Dungeons.

I'm going to do a little copy and pasting now ...
'The Amsterdam Dungeon brings to life 500 years of dark history in 11 shows with 7 actors in 1 terrifying experience! Can you survive the horrific Plague during the 80 minute tour, or will you be discovering the dark secrets of the famous painter Rembrandt? Make sure you don’t get tortured by the executioner Peter Titelmann from the Spanish Inquisition or get lost in the mirror labyrinth! There is also the roller coaster for the really brave visitors!'


So thats fun, we entered, we had to take an embarassing photo where me and my brother got to pretend to execute our parents. And on 'one, two, three, SCREAM....'.
'aah...' whined one of us reluctantly.

We all queued, it was dark, cramped and none of us knew what to expect. There were heavy clanking, ghostly music and the atmosphere that we all help contribute to was nervous, borderline terrified.

A woman dressed up as a corpse maid drifted out from behind the curtains, her movements were slow, rigid and zombie-like. Suddenly she dived forward against the chains making loud rattling noise and making all of us wet our pants.
Obviously we pretended we weren't scared, rolling our eyes and laughing at others. Really, we were all laughing at our stupidity and how gullible we were.

She slithered through the queue, sniffing and making faces at us, stared at us until we could no longer keep our amusement in. We were led to the lifts and into the first 'show'.

We all sat in rows on what seemed similar to church pews and scrutinized the, um, wooden chair with clasps, in worry.

 Make sure you don’t get tortured by the executioner Peter Titelmann from the Spanish Inquisition

A man dressed in black robes appeared from the back, it was all so dark and when I first noticed him I wetted myself again. He held and swung a metal chain with a metal ball in the end, gave us a quick introduction about how if you don't believe in God and something about faith and confessions.
He asked for a volunteer.

I tried.

I really did.

But not hard enough.

I tried to avoid eye contact without being too obvious, but we were sitting in the front row.

'You!'

Damn, I should have known.

'Me?' Of course it was me. Nervous laughter. I always have lots of nervous laughs. Especially in drama.

I went sat in that even more daunting now - chair, had all these metal clasps hold me by the torso and hands to the chair.

He showed me a few, torture instruments and asked me if I would like to be tortured with them.
Of course not.

'Are you ready to confess?'

'Yes'

Good, do you confess?'

'Yes' Which I realise now I wasn't supposed to do. Here I was, supposedly in the Spanish Inquisition times, trialed against heresy. And I confessed at once.
I didn't really get it, if I'm honest.

'Well I find people who confess too quickly are usually lying about something.'

Boy was I really confused now.

'Confess you sins!'

'Um...'

'You have sinned so you must confess them.'

Now I'm really struggling.

So he made it easier for me and got a tongue remover metal thing out. (Bit of research tells me its a 'tongue tearer'. So jolly.)

'Stick out your tongue!'

So I do.

'Stick it out a bit more.'

'My tongue's really short' I don't think he heard me, I was whining and really panicking. My family laughed.('Awesome')

So I stuck my tongue out a bit more.

Obviously very skilled in acting tearing tongues out of people, he 'teared my tongue out'.

(Now here I got uber confused, I thought it was supposed to puncture a hole)

'How did that sound like?'

'Squelch?' I realise a little later that I couldn't talk.

'Now have you ever eaten tongue before?' Now I was starting to find him really menacing.

'Cow tongue." and duck tongue actually.

'What about a human tongue?'

'no'

He 'stuffed the tongue inside my mouth'

'How does that taste like?'

'Really nice.' nervous laugh.

'You don't have a tongue so how can you taste it you STUPID GIRL!'



Fantabaloosy Dozy.

Amsterdam trip, part 2. Just casually strolling around. And finding supermarkets.

I think we found two BBC channels that weren't the news on the TV, and that was all that was needed to make me and my little brother happy. The hotel room was 'tres chic'. God, I hope I don't have to do a holiday account in French when I go back to school.

Second day. Did we do much?
You bet we didn't.

Another holiday tradition is to find the nearest supermarket, buy loads of 'national delicacies' and breakfast and water and usually beer for my dad. And the supermarket usually becomes our favourite place.

So the plan of the day was to walk.

Walk and 'explore' as much places and see as much as possible.

A lot of places were quite obviously sculpted for tourism, with millions of endless lanes of steak houses. Because Amsterdamdians are meat eaters. Scary.

We saw a lot of clothes shops such as H&M, Superdry and a few others I forgot.

I was also wearing sandals which meant more than occasionaly I would stumble, quickly look around to check no one saw me, then just casualy stroll as normal.

The BEST part was when I found a shop called 'Sissy Boy'. In my little world of warped humour, I found that hilarious. When I pointed that out to my parents, I think they may have thought I was being immature. But nonetheless, they offered to take a picture of it with me.

I politely declined.

We walked on and on, like catholics on a pilgrimage. Looking at this, looking at that.

I am unsure about what you call those people who paint themselves in gold or silver than pose with people for pictures.

But I've seen a few good ones when I was in Belgium but the ones here were shocking.

Not in a good way either, for example....

This is the one I saw in Brussels.

The one in Amsterdam.

They would just dress themselves completely in a gorilla suit like one above. Where's the acting? Where's the statuesque? Where's the skill? Where's the origianlity?
Seriously, I could do that.

For lunch, we went into a classy bakery. We were deliberating on which sandwiched to buy when a piece of ceiling fell on the man behind the counter. We all just looked up in surprise and we all laughed nervously,
in harmony.

We walked.

I stumbled.

We walked.

Deciding to return to the hotel for a short break before coming out for supper, we retraced our route.

I had a photo taken in front of Sissy Boy.

Amsterdam trip, part 1. The lonely chess museum.

Day one, we arrived in Amsterdam. I find it hard to recall the exact weather, but it was gloomy with the occasional shower of Hollandaise rain.
Immediately, it was a rather unspoken subtle tradition, we took a taxi to our hotel. Marriot. (Not advertising them.) It was roughly 10 in the morning, (would have been 11 in the coutry we left - lovely Wales) we had woken up at about 6 ish and frankly our pathetic weak bodies were exhausted.
Pure trivia: tired in dutch is moe.
So our luggage was casually dropped in all relief and we all found ourselves doing star floats on the beds.
We manages to claw our way our usual 'just laze in the hotel forever and watch CNN News' trance and we pounded the pavements of busy busy touristy touristy Amsterdam.

The first thing that I thought we could perhaps explore was a chess museum. There was a big chessboard in a food court where, I assume, two strangers were having a chess game. Nearby, a large banner with the words 'Max Euwe-Centrum' inscripted hung, dripping and swaying. It was advertising the chess museum, named after an very not well known chess champion.

I an not that much of a chess fan, I know the rules, and likes to give up halfway through the game. But I wanted to visit and experience as much as possible and chess is okay.

After a quick bite of lunch in a Japanese restaurant located amongst many other restaurants. We returned to the black and white banners.

With the dramatic banners, and polited buzz around the public chess game between the stranger and the bearded stranger, it was disappointing not to find a grand entrance to a beautiful chess-inspired architectural building. On the contarary we found an A4 paper politely pointing out that the Chess exhibition (so now it was an exhibition!) could be found in building something on floor something. Wow. Unimpressed.

Our chess exhibition hunting lasted about 5 minutes. The building was a modest office with probably about 6 or 7 floors. It just simply felt wrong walking into an office where people in shirts and tie were walking around with coffee mugs (I always think that if someone is holding a coffee mug, it makes them a cool office worker). There was one of those commnication machine where you press the button of the floor if you want access. So the four of us, blundering in a building where we felt very out of place, pressed the button - "Yes, the chess museum?, come on up, second floor."

So we trailed nervously up the stairs, where a guy, probably used to seeing random tourists in his office, kindly gestured the way to the 'chess museum'

I can't really call it a 'chess museum' without quotation marks any longer.

An elderly guy greeted us, we placed our bags and coats in the lockers and he started the tour without any formal warning. There were a few exhibits of old chess pieces, old rule books, and old photos. But mainly it was all dedicated to Max Euwe. An Amsterdam guy who won the World chess championship years ago. He was detailed in explaning the history of Max Euwe, you could not fault his enthusiasm.

He gave a few sheets of paper, which probably talked about the chess champions, history all in tiny printed words that even in my nervous polite self I could not bring myself to read.

The room was about the size of my living room. Its not a small living room, but its not great. True it was packed with many many chess related stuff. Pictures, certificates, tactic books, chess boards. Our tour guide was very kind and humbling.

In a way, it was not a place that I would endear to visit again but if you have not been there you would gain more than you came with. Its FREE, I should have mentioned at the start. A lot of dedication was put into the exhibits, there's a library with dutch books (I am not mocking it, I am simply suggesting you should learn the language and spend an hour or two reading them) and chess boards which for chess fans - I'm sure its a fine environment to whip out your skills.

Though I was probably extrememly harsh on it, if you don't visit it for the exhibits, visit it for its owners. They're obviously very lovely people who are inspired by Max Euwe. And the chess museum must get very lonely. Perhaps for true chess fans they will appreciated it a lot more than I did.

A plucky bonus is you get free postcards, more than a dozen. A down side is the postcards are mainly of random chess players.

If one day you decide to visit Amsterdam, ignore the slighly negative things I have said, go visit it. And then send me a postcard.

Amsterdam. The level of food service is rather awesome.

Hmm, I think we need a little more rice.

Well gesture to the waitress over there, she's not busy at the moment.

Okay (waves at waitress)

(waitress waves back, as if greeting an old friend.)





(waiter serves the rice onto our plates)
Oh dear, sorry, this is for the other table.
......
(scrapes the rice onto a pair of different plates with his bare hands)

(tucks his oily hair behind his ears with the exact same hands)