Oingles The Blog

“The Fidelius Charm is a complex and powerful Charm that takes a specific piece of information (the secret) and implants it into a being’s soul. The one whose soul houses the secret is known as the Secret-Keeper.”

So, very nerdy I know. But there is going to be some depth to this post. The nature of JK Rowling’s fidelius charm is to keep something completely secret, only allowing the people closest to you to know the secret, and forbidding them from muttering it to anyone else.

Imagine if magic were real, and this was a real charm.

Cool, huh?

So my question to you ladies and gents is which piece of information would you choose as your secret, and into the soul of whom would you choose to implant it? Here a few examples:

Secret:
There is a tiny little rocky cove near Blackpool which I adore and have spent many a summer’s evening. Nobody else I know has ever found this space, therefore I would preserve this for myself by making it my secret. I would be the secret keeper myself.

Secret:
I just pooped myself. Everyone who reads this is the secret keeper. Don’t tell anyone.

For those of you uncool people who don’t believe in reading Harry Potter then consider this question ‘Which piece of information would you like to keep secret, and who would you trust to keep it for you?”

Tell me.

The End.
Jamie

BTW: You obviously don’t have to tell me your real deepest secret :)


Jamie Xenophilius Moore

(OK, my middle name isn’t Xenophilius.)

Good morning readers, this is a little post to introduce me to you all, ‘cos not all of you know who I actually am. Consider this an intricate peep through the window of my soul *cough*. Or consider it a list of things about me, which is what it is.

I am Jamie Moore,
My birthday is in April.
I was born & bred in Blackpool.
I live in Newquay.
I am an only child.
Yet, I have a half-brother.
I am a gentleman.
But don’t sweep ladies off their feet.
I attended uni.
But dropped out.
I am British.
English to be precise.
I appreciate foreigners.
I wish I were Italian :-)
I am almost exactly 6’0″ tall
My partner is a short ass :)
I make the most amazing butternut squash and tomato soup.
I will make you a bowl one day.
I drink coffee like a drain,
My preferred tipple is a Skinny Latte :-)

Anything to do with Whoopi Goldberg makes me chuckle.
Even if she just stands there and looks at me.
If anybody puts mushrooms in the fridge I eat them.
Within the first ten minutes of their presence.
I have a king size bed.
I am that important.
Meerkat’s are my favourite animal.
They are utterly cute. Fofinho.

I have nothing more to add to this list at the moment:
I will soon though.
Is there anything you would like to know?
That’s a hint to comment :P

One more fact: Electropop music rocks.
So here are two of my favourite electropop songs, the first is English whereas the second one is French.
Enjoy.


Well good day to you my fine readers, it’s been a while and a half since I last posted but I’ve found a dose of inspiration in the form of a bowl of porridge. I wish to express to you all my great displeasure with regard to the lies I have been bought up to believe about which foods are good for me, and which aren’t.

Let me introduce you to a company called WeightWatchers, you probably know them for their weight loss programs and meetings, and although I have never tested them I am led to believe they are quite popular. What goes on behind the scenes is what’s interesting, they calculate the Protein, Carbs, Fat and Fibre in foods and relate that information to how well the body can digest these. They completely ignore calories.

Here’s were it gets interesting (if you’ve managed to stay for this long :P)

I have spent my whole life waking up and thinking “damn, I should really eat a healthy breakfast today – let’s have a bowl of porridge!”

This bowl of porridge contains 40g
oats, with 240ml milk. (A boring, not
too tasty, breakfast)

Now let’s consider this,

This toastie is made with two slices
of white bread, with loads of mush
rooms, 3 slices of wafer thin ham
and a poached egg. Sounds nice
right?

These two breakfasts are EQUALLY healthy. EQUALLY! I ask myself, how can two slices of carbohydrate filled white bread, containing fatty ham and other breakfast goodies be as healthy as a bowl of nasty-ass porridge oats (without the ten spoons of sugar that it would need to actually taste decent). Well this is where I will try and get all scientific. In the ham and eggs there is lots of protein and fibre, which are both a lot more difficult for the body to digest (thus burning more energy in doing so) than all the fat in the milk.

Here’s another little tidbit that makes me feel healthy. If I were to but the mushrooms, ham, poached eggs, and one slice of toast on a plate, I could add a sausage, or FOUR fatless bacon medallions for the same level of healthiness. That’s like… a full English breakfast being the same as a bowl of porridge.

Despite being quite annoyed that I have spent my life believing things to be healthy, when actually they aren’t any better than the nicer tasting things, I am chuffed to know I can continue eating rubbish and being very happy as a result XD

Oh, and here’s the bit that makes me really happy, one glass of beer, which contains only 4% alcoholic volume is equal (nutrition wise) to two 37% alc. vol. shots of VODKA!

Thank you for having listened to my rant/learning about porridge.

Nice day XD
Ciao
Mr Jamie Moore.

This last week almost all of the things that were important to me as a child have been making an appearance in my life, therefore I thought it would be a good idea to make a blog post about the things that I enjoyed, feared and celebrated as a youngster. So, here we go…

Firstly the thing that I loved the mosy: HOLIDAYS!
So basically, me, my mom, my dad, my stepdad and my half-brother would go to the south of Spain or the south of Portugal for a week or two in the summer, everyone would get along with each other and it would be awesome. The best thing though, for me at least, was the people speaking Spanish, the situation literally went like this:
Spanish person:

James:

Ok so, I wasn’t a baby, but you get the point.

There was another thing I liked doing, both on holiday AND at home in Blackpool:
\
Building sancastles was the best thing ever, picture if you will a five year old James in his little sun hat and sandals building himself a sandcastle at Blackpool beach with an enormous grin. Cute? I know, even though I say so myself ;)

My favourite song has to be included,

Then there are the things I hated,

GHOSTS ARGH!
I was terrified of ghosts, fortunately I had someone to protect me!


So yes, I had a teddy. He was God. He protected me from the scary things XD but hey, I was only a little kiddy.

 

So there you go, there is much more that i could put here but if I did this post would go on forever and ever. Therefore I am forcing myself to stop.

Cya
James

Living in Blackpool it is not by any means uncommon for one to come across a few drunken individuals, especially on a Friday or Saturday night. Therefore I have decided to make a post apropos of the atypical and rather amusing behaviour that I have seen from the local ‘drunkards’.

I shall begin with the the most recent of my encounters with a drunk. This occurred a few nights ago, whilst walking from a bar to my home I witnessed a gentleman (who had clearly enjoyed one too may) attempt to stop a road full of fast traveling cars, insisting that he was going to perform opera and required an audience. Needless to say no cars stopped, and when he got too dangerous the police involved themselves. This ‘provoked’ him into beginning his concert, giving me the pleasure of hearing ‘Volare ohhhhh bam bare oh oh bam baaaam’ in a high pitched squeal.
Drunk rating:

Secondly I will mention a simple story, one that I shouldn’t find amusing as the person involved came very close to serious personal injury. Whilst sitting on my parent’s balcony enjoying my own alcoholic beverage my attention was drawn to a distraught neighbour who appeared to be climbing out of her upstairs window screaming for help .I immediately panicked, assuming she must be in danger. I panicked even more when i saw her fall from the window and crash through her greenhouse. (I feel this needs an exclamation mark)

Horrific, right? Well no. Because it was later revealed that she was attempting to escape a renegade dustbin which, after a select amount of alcohol, had turned nasty and attempted to kill her. The lady was fine, and not surprisingly she has now left the area.
Drunk rating:

My final story refers to myself, as I am partial to a bottle of spirit or three myself. After spending a night on the town with friends I realized it was time to open shop and start serving. This is at 7AM, when I am still completely worse for ware and my staff are all starring at me expectantly. Due to my level of intoxication was was more than a little merry and chose to stand at the door greeting customers myself. It was going well:

This lasted a whole thirty minutes before I got insulted by a drag artist (keep in mind that on all other occasions I love a good man in drag, they are funny). On this one however my drunken mind took great offense to the insult I received.

My reaction?
“HE’S A F***ING MAN!” I screamed, whilst ripping his wig from his head and flinging it out into the street, we shared an argument of shouts before my family were called to remove me from the premises. This was the most embarrassing moment in my life.
Drunk rating:

So there you go people. Three stories of drunkards. Hope you enjoyed.
Jamie
xx

Every year since 1956 countries holding membership to the European Broadcasting Union (EBU) have come together to produce a europe-wide concert, being broadcast in all member states. It is one of the most watched shows in the continent. The premise is simple, each participating country sends one band, of up to six members, to the concert to perform a song of up to three minutes long. It must be performed completely live, no second chances. Each country then votes for their favourite song, however they cannot vote for their own country. Each country then rewards an amount of points to each other country, with the highest scoring being the winner of the contest and the host of the next years contest.

Now I don’t wish to write a post just explaining the competition, rather I would like to present some of my opinions on past entries. Firstly, I will mention some of the success stories:

  • Cliff Richard performed in the song contest twice, on his first attempt he came in 2nd, and on the second attempt he attained 3rd position. Song 1 Song 2
  • ABBA launched their worldwide career in the contest, with their song Waterloo, which won. Link
  • Katrina & The Waves won the 1997 contest. Link

These were all very serious performances, with world class songs however. In modern times the contest is a breeding ground for the campest, most extravagant performances of pop music imaginable. Take this for example, Ukraine’s entry to the 2007 contest…

Britain was also on the camp wagon that year, with this performance by Scooch (needless to say we didn’t fair too well that year)

As well as these comical, yet catchy, songs there have been some pretty high standard songs too. Consider this, the UK’s 2009 entry (which came 5th overall) :-

Also, Austria’s 2011 entry (she was only 19, bless)

So there you have it, a little taste of the Eurovision Song Contest. Finally I will show you the 2010 winning song, which I personally like (but it’s quite uncool to share my opinion) Here is Lena:

One final note!
There is also a Junior Eurovision Song Contest. Which I have personally never seen as the United Kingdom does not participate, but here you have a video of Belgium singing in one of them.

There’s another post for the day mi gente.
Hope you enjoy the cheesy music again.
Ciao
Mr J Moore.
XX

Salut mes petits amours! After the runaway (cough) success of my German Insults post I decided to seek inspiration from another race who are known to be quite frivolous with their words, the French. So here are my favourite romantic French phrases for you to try out on your other half.

Je vis d’amour et d’eau douce | I live on love and fresh water
(50% of my french friends insist on ‘douce’. the other 50% and some others insist it’s fraiche)
Que mes baisers soient les mots d’amour que je ne te dis pas | My kisses are the unspoken words of love!
Je respire l’odeur de ton corps | I breath the smell of your body (don’t use if they stink)
Fait-il chaud ici, ou c’est juste toi? | Is it hot in here? Or is it just you?
Comme si j’étais la lune et tu étais les étoiles. | As if I were the moon and you were the stars

For the homosexuals amongst us:
Je préfère les rapports anaux | I prefer anal persuits
Un peu de plastique n’est pas un probleme pour moi! | A little plastic is not a problem for me!

Ok, so the last ones aren’t genuinely romantic, I found them on comedy sites. But you liked them, right? ;) (& sorry if they offended you moody readers)

So, there you go, my second post of the day. I would like you to remember this as the rennaisance of my blogging career, my return to posting after a three day break :P

Au revoir mes amours,

James
XX

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