The world's most unfashionably late blog post...

When this leaked to the internet, we had no internet. You know how it is: you spend a year blissfully signed up to the cheapest, fastest and most reliable broadband you could find and then you move house and it all goes tits-fucking-up. First they charge you £50 quid for moving house, even though they promised they wouldn't because it was your first house move under their reign, and then they take 22 days to activate. Yes. 22 days. Because instead of just pressing a button on a computer up in their control room, they make you wait for them to process all the 'paperwork' (doubtless completed and approved within minutes all on a hi-tech computer) at a speed that would embarrass blind pensioners.

Once you've made it through 22 harrowing days of trying to read tiny text on your phone, check your bank balance at the library with people tutting over your shoulder because they can't wait for you to finish so they can browse the new Topshop lines and managed to rack up a mobile internet bill larger than most banker's monthly prostitute expense accounts despite your network having promised you UNLIMITED INTERNET THAT YOU WILL APPARENTLY NEVER USE ALL OF (*deep breath*) you finally emerge expecting instant connectivity to be told that an engineer must inspect your phone line first: which he does in about 5 minutes after waiting a week for him to arrive.

Even then it's no picnic. Your internet is slow, videos won't buffer, nothing will download, and after 2 and a half blissful days of broadband-filled existence, it's all cruelly snatched away from you with no explanation and/or warning. You ring up a call centre in Scotland and complain (not after they've inexplicably hung up on you) and are told to switch the modem on and off again. This doesn't work so they invite you to unscrew the wall socket and take a look inside. This doesn't work either, so they send you a modem in the post that takes another few days to arrive. Once you've got this set up and running, the internet still doesn't work and you are in such a foul mood you consider sending your internet provider dogshit in the post, before trying to plug the stupid blinking box into every conceivable socket in the house. Miraculously and finally, the socket that the helpline and the manual told you WOULDN'T work, actually does, and you finally, several hundred fucking years later, have a working internet line so you can actually update your blog, read about and listen to new music and absorb it all.

Of course by the time this happens, talking about or even experiencing Willow Smith's frenetic and incredible debut single, "Whip My Hair", seems both insignificant and deeply uncool so you decide to wait until the video comes out to tell everyone on the internet that you have finally succumbed, put your internet troubles behind you (*TOUCH MOTHAFOCKIN WOOD*) and decided to declare: this is unbelievable. As in really really good.