Video killed the radio star (and nearly me as well).

Okay, so it turns out that beard aside, Steven Spielberg and I have very little in common. I have created a video that I'm more ashamed of than Paris Hilton's parents would have been of her infamous taped collection of private moments (and not just because it reminds me that the rest of the world hears not my voice, but that of a slow farmer on drugs).

In my defence, it was my very first time and I was plagued with technical difficulties, but my dreams of making it big in Hollywood (California, not the one in Worcestershire - I could probably still hit some heights there) are in tatters.

The reason I was messing around with a video in the first place was to try and establish a clear winner of my Mo Farah portrait. Rather than pick a name out of the hat or toss a coin, I thought it would be a marvellous idea to ask people who I meet throughout the day a simple question - Geraldine or Kevin? Whoever got the most votes would win!

So I collected around four minutes of footage that I thought I could stitch together and hopefully edit into an amusing montage that would probably become a massive viral hit on YouTube.

Now as we've discovered, I have no idea what I'm doing, but not for the first time in my life thought 'how hard can it be?'. Only to discover that actually, it's really effing hard. It didn't help that the people I was working with were clearly not professional actors. If they'd been a little bit more 'with it', perhaps I would have stood a better chance and I'd be eyeing up a little place in Beverly Hills by now. You know what? Now I’ve started blaming other people, everything is beginning to make more sense.

After spending several hours trying to find a way of transferring the videos from my Android phone to my iMac computer, I thought I was ready to polish this little collection of video turds into one slightly more glittery one. Clever editing would surely save the day!

But alas, despite working without problems on my phone, once transferred to my computer the audio had changed from people talking to the sound of a thousand howling bees. I started to attempt to find some answers on Google, only to find a nice residential course on bee keeping in Swansea and an article on the decline of the howler monkey.

So, any editing would have to be done in-phone. After pottering around the app store for a while (and downloading some updates to my strip-poker games) I discovered an app called 'Magisto'. This appeared to solve all my problems as it offered a fully automatic editing service. All you have to do is choose your videos and a soundtrack and their advanced Artificial Intelligence would do the rest! Perfect I thought!

The example video on their website turned a collection of snowboarding clips into an amazingly slick movie that guys with shoulder length blonde hair and goatee beards would have described as ‘totally rad’.

However in reality, it turned out that the ‘Artificial’ was a little more dominant than the ‘Intelligence’. Admittedly it was a ridiculously simple process to instigate. After giving it the film clips and music, it popped off for 20 minutes or so to do its thing. I was really hoping that it genuinely was happening automatically and hadn’t been emailed to a poor guy in a Korean sweat shop who was getting paid tuppence an hour to knock out a nicely edited result.

It was with great anticipation that I viewed the final result. If this had have been edited by the enslaved Korean guy, I would have wanted my tuppence back and him put on double shifts with half rations. It had handily managed to edit out all reference to Kevin or Geraldine. What’s left is jumbled nonsense which, whilst it probably reflects what’s going on in my head, doesn’t help answer the winner of the competition. To top it all off, I forget to put a question mark at the end of the title name which annoys me every time I see it.

Get the popcorn laced with cyanide and check it out yourself!

So, you’ll just have to trust me when I tell you that, thanks to Keira Husky from my earlier post changing her mind in dramatic fashion at the very last second, we have a draw! Yes I know I should have asked an odd number of people to make sure a draw wasn't possible, but honestly I’ve had it up to my tits now so that's not going to happen.

The easiest, most practical solution is to share the picture. So, if Geraldine and Kevin could just let me know your age, smoker status, lifestyle and any dangerous hobbies, I’ll have an actuary work out who should get the picture first and for how long.

Only joking of course - there's no way I’m going to put myself through the hell of talking to an actuary! Congratulations both - you’ll get a picture each. Just DM me your addresses on Twitter and I’ll get everything sorted next week.

And if anyone wants to tell me that, in hindsight, it would have been simpler to have just done that anyway, wow thanks! I never realised! Here’s my open wound and over there is a bag of salt - you know what to do.

Having said that, I’ll probably have forgotten this in a few days and will try to make another crazy film, so please rub that salt in really hard.

Brown paper packages, tied up with strings (and containing cake)...

Thanks so much to everyone who has entered the competition to win a signed print of one of my heroes from the XXX Olympiad (full details from earlier post here).

I must admit that originally I thought the 'XXX Games' were something really quite different. But having seen the incredibly buff guys in the diving final all chilling out together in the jacuzzi and the extremely dodgy looking (greasy side-swept hair, big glasses) Chinese gymnastics coach hanging around very flexible young Chinese girls, I realised that they're actually much the same.

Anyway, I've had around a dozen entries so far. Usually I wouldn't be very tolerant of people who can't follow the original, clear instructions to leave an answer in the comments section of my original post. But to the simple folk who have tweeted, DM'd or emailed me your answers instead - don't worry, you're still in the running!

And the more entries the merrier too - anyone else who'd like to enter can still do so. And you can contact me with your answer via any method you like. Answers frosted on the top of cakes are especially welcome.

In fact it occurred to me that in order to help me with any tiebreak situation, it might be a good idea to list a few of my favourite things to help you influence my decision in your favour.

My favourite things:

1. Justin Bieber
2. Make up
3. Dressing up in my mum's clothes

Oh wait! I got muddled up and thought I was updating my fake 12 year-old girl blog there. Let's try again.

1. Cakes
2. Biscuits
3. Sweets (not liquorice)
4. Ice cream
5. More ice cream
6. A nice meal out
7. A nasty meal out e.g. McDonalds etc
8. Beer (but only smooth, non-fizzy stuff - e.g. Caffreys, Boddingtons, Guinness etc)
9. A nice shoulder rub / Indian head massage
10. Money (or book tokens if that's too vulgar for you)
11. Carex alco-rub hand gel (the green or creamy one preferably - I have a slight obsession with clean hands)
12. Nice hand cream to help with excess alco-rub use
13. A flash car
14. A chauffeur for a flash car (note, only get me this if you're also getting me 13.)
15. An au pair
16. General flattery (as in saying wide ranging nice things about me, not as in a highly ranked soldier named Flattery).

That should do for now. Feel free to also get me a surprise, but do make sure you keep the receipt.

There have been a couple of times this week when I've so nearly tweeted a progress update about the picture that would have given it away. But in broad terms, I wanted to mention how funny it is when you stare at someone intently for even a short period of time, that they start to change in appearance.

Ordinarily our brains seem to look at someone quite quickly and log a set of characteristics to help us remember what somebody looks like purely for recognition purposes. It helps us differentiate one person from another, but not see how they actually really look.

This is why it's so easy to miss noticing that a lady friend has had her hair done - your brain has recognised that this is Ms X, and then stopped the process of looking. One of art's great gifts to the artist or photographer etc, is a keen eye that really sees things as they are, going beyond our everyday, filtered view of the world.

So ladies, if your gentlemen friends don't notice your new hairstyle, don't be too harsh on them. It's not because it doesn't look nice. In fact, if it was awful, it's more likely to be noticeable and get a fake compliment (there we go guys - I've covered that one off for you - no need to thank me).
*brushes hands together to indicate completion of a good job*
*covers them in alco-rub*

Win win win! (nb: there may be three wins, but there's only one prize)

So, the final curtain has dropped on the Olympics. Let's hope it managed to avoid the dying embers of the flame because, with London 2012's closing ceremony budget clearly spent on Russell Brand's hairspray and gallons of Ovaltine for One Direction, I'm pretty sure it would have been made of very cheap fabric which would ignite in a flash.

I shall miss the games - they have dominated my life for the past couple of weeks. If the aim of the games was to "inspire a generation", let's hope Lord Coe meant that for children of the 1970's, this involved them being motivated to sit on their arses, glued to the tv whilst snacking. Without wishing to blow my own trumpet, these past 16 days have been a personal best for me on that front.

Although it has been the most amazing spectacle, it's actually a bit of a relief to get back to real life again. It's like having eaten a massive, delicious, yet very rich meal. I've thoroughly enjoyed it, but now it's time to sit quietly and digest everything.

For me, this will take the form of drawing a portrait of someone from the games that encapsulated the thrill and wonder of it all. I've not painted a picture for myself for ages, so it's really nice to feel this inspired to do so. I appreciate that in terms of exercise, this involves me moving from my sofa to my computer for the next few weeks, but at least I won't be snacking - baby steps (as in incremental progress, not as in tiny children performing a cover of 'Tragedy').

In order to help share the nice warm feeling of inspired celebration that's within me right now, I thought it would be nice to run a little competition. I'll be giving away a signed print of the portrait to one lucky person who correctly guesses who I intend to draw. Leave your answer in the comments box below - you don't need to be signed in to leave a comment, but please ensure you give a name so that I can uniquely identify you.

Terms and conditions apply - in summary these allow me to do what the hell I like with this competition, so don't get stroppy and stuff. Feel free to offer bribes to help increase your chances, although blackmail is strictly forbidden. And in the spirit of unity and equality, so is whitemail.

It'll take me a few weeks to complete this piece, so entries are open until either it's a) finished or b) I accidentally reveal who I'm drawing in another blog post or tweet and ruin the whole thing.

The only real rule is that it's one entry per person, although if you can be bothered to set up fake email addresses to get round this, good on you.

If there is more than one correct guess, I'll draw a winner at random (as in picking a name from a hat, not as in going into a state of trance and drawing the ethereal face I see hazily floating in front of me).

The only clue I'll give at this stage is that the person I'm drawing was a star of the games and is definitely either male or female - i.e. not one of those big shot putting or weightlifting people from China who look like they have both sets of tackle (and probably also a healthy dose of swine in their family tree).

So, best of luck if you want to take part. Feel free to ask me any questions, just so long as they don't turn this into a game of Olympic 'Guess Who?' with ones like, "does she wear a hat?", or "does he have a greasy comb-over that makes him look like he's overly fond of school children?". Cheers.