Saturday, October 23
Big 100? None o' that crap...
Its odd, its kinda snuck up on me that this is, in fact, the 100th update for Less Is More itself! I was going to palm you off with yet another "100 Inane And Stupid Questions About You", savaged in the style of many before. But that ain't good enough for y'all really. We need teh funnee again!
The History of Less Is More
Back in the spring of 2004, a young street urchin called Chyld got sick of stealing pennies off of the pavements in order to fund his sherbert habit, decided he needed some output for his mad ideas. So he went home, searched for blog providers, and created an entity known as Less Is More.
The dream began delightfully, rattling off a piece about the disturbing logo for Alfa Romeo. "What is this picture that resemles a man-eating snake?" he cried, "Its effing weird!" Thus did the population have a small chuckle. Finally, the good were working. He immediatly followed this with a rant at the foolish weight watchers, and the wobblers on the Fatkins diet. "No carbs! The folly!" went up his warcry. Which resonated with another individual, who became intertwined with the paths of Chyld and Less is More.
Supermarct, a Dutch street urchin of a more drunken dispoition, was told of this wonderful venture, and went ahead to provide the first ever guest update, on him being drunk at an awards ceremony in London. And thus did it develop...
Nothing interesting happened for a while, pen drives were bought, laptops gave up the ghost, Vauxhall Corsas were slated, and all was merryment, with Super taking most of the Friday Guest Updater slots. I even managed a Theme Week onone of the best bands in the Multiverse, Slipknot. Then I almost got laid.
Then the summer came, creating a death knell for the website. I had a few good ideas, but as soon as the Prom came around, everthing Chyld and Super had worked for crumbled. "Aha!" thought Chyld "Copout!" And thus, the only updates that came from that point were diaries. Of proms where I'd been betrayed, of barge trips where I did-not-get-laid-despite-appearences-to-the-contrary-I-dug-a-big-messy-hole-over-this-leave-me-alone, and festivals where much drugs were smoked, munched, and vomit produced as a result. No sex, though.
And now I'm 250 miles away, poor, and running low on ideas. I hope that was a goo enough post, and lets hope for another 100, because at this rate there isn't going to be another 25...
The History of Less Is More
Back in the spring of 2004, a young street urchin called Chyld got sick of stealing pennies off of the pavements in order to fund his sherbert habit, decided he needed some output for his mad ideas. So he went home, searched for blog providers, and created an entity known as Less Is More.
The dream began delightfully, rattling off a piece about the disturbing logo for Alfa Romeo. "What is this picture that resemles a man-eating snake?" he cried, "Its effing weird!" Thus did the population have a small chuckle. Finally, the good were working. He immediatly followed this with a rant at the foolish weight watchers, and the wobblers on the Fatkins diet. "No carbs! The folly!" went up his warcry. Which resonated with another individual, who became intertwined with the paths of Chyld and Less is More.
Supermarct, a Dutch street urchin of a more drunken dispoition, was told of this wonderful venture, and went ahead to provide the first ever guest update, on him being drunk at an awards ceremony in London. And thus did it develop...
Nothing interesting happened for a while, pen drives were bought, laptops gave up the ghost, Vauxhall Corsas were slated, and all was merryment, with Super taking most of the Friday Guest Updater slots. I even managed a Theme Week onone of the best bands in the Multiverse, Slipknot. Then I almost got laid.
Then the summer came, creating a death knell for the website. I had a few good ideas, but as soon as the Prom came around, everthing Chyld and Super had worked for crumbled. "Aha!" thought Chyld "Copout!" And thus, the only updates that came from that point were diaries. Of proms where I'd been betrayed, of barge trips where I did-not-get-laid-despite-appearences-to-the-contrary-I-dug-a-big-messy-hole-over-this-leave-me-alone, and festivals where much drugs were smoked, munched, and vomit produced as a result. No sex, though.
And now I'm 250 miles away, poor, and running low on ideas. I hope that was a goo enough post, and lets hope for another 100, because at this rate there isn't going to be another 25...
