Sad? Feeling down?

Then try reading free the duck, you bitch and make it so. You know you want to.

Hahahaha!

What the Internet is for...

This young lady is in serious trouble. My thanks to Mr. FMFT.

FA letter intercepted

Gareth has an intercepted compilation of letters that you should probably read.

I laugh. The people at work stare at me.

Heh. I love the copyright message at the bottom of JonnyB's private secret diary:

Copyright (c) 2004-2005 by me, JonnyB. That's real copyright, not any 'creative commons' internet hippie type thing.

Need a wedding photographer?

If you're looking for a wedding photographer you could (almost possibly) do worse than Derek Pye Wedding and Glamour Photography:

I am Derek Pye multi award winning wedding and glamour photographer. It’s generally accepted that I am the best wedding photographer working in the UK today.

George Orwell estate to sue Government over breach of copyright

Things seem to be getting rather serious for this government.

Targeting America's enemies?

I hear rumours that Blair had to persuade Bush not to blow up the headquarters of a certain TV station. Quickly, tell me, was it the BBC?

That's you that is

Check it out. Find your old school photographs, including pictures of yourself, here. Technology is amazing.

Finally....

...a use for cats.

Hold the front page

Hehe, via Voice of the Future comes this.

Finally

A use for cats. Catalytic converter, hehehe, it’s got to be a joke right?

Green shopping

Holy smokes! A shopping guide just for Guardian readers!.

Actually, it looks like a good blog but I am weak and couldn't resist.

New element discovered!!!

Kev has all the details:

A major research institution has recently announced the discovery of the heaviest chemical yet known to science. This new element has been tentatively named "Governmentium".......

The England Project bunker

If anyone is interested in where much of The England Project blogging is done, here is a picture:

Supersize me

Note: All the items in this picture are legal to own without license in England.

Humour test

Oh, how I laughed. Here are some suggestions for building a successful Internet Forum. Now, the writer may be right to suggest that these tactics will lead to eventual success but that's not the point. The point is that some of the suggestions made me laugh. See if they make you laugh too:

- Bulk up the memberlist with false registrations, to make the community more inviting...

- Create multiple aliases - and have them represent different aspects of your own personality and interests. Have them respond to each other, to start conversations...

- Respect your members....

Haha!

Take that Jerry!!!

The importance of shoes

I love this little quote from Harry Hutton over at Chase me ladies. When Harry asked his English language class of Italians "what's the first thing you look for in a woman" one response given was "shoes".

"When I see the woman, so beautiful, but is wearing the Doctor Martin, for me is finish." - Fabio

Openly, on our streets

Shamefully I admit that my boy has three of these friction lock batons and uses them openly in our very cul-de-sac. We're lucky around our way though as most of the street kids that pass themselves off as well adjusted young children are similarly armed which leads to a kind of uneasy peace where nobody is ever really hurt because everybody has the ability to retaliate.

Close to tea time one can often hear conversations such as:

"Time to come in, tea is on the table".

"I want to play some more. I'm not hungry."

"Boy! I am your father!"

"Nooooooooooooo!"

True story or fake?

This from Katrina is a giggle.

Here's muff in your eye

To make up for lack of recent blogging I bring you this remarkable bit of technology.

In the high street outside this cinema

Apparently, and I have this on good authority, there is some kind of star-chamberish conspiratorial group of people who have managed to end up rulling England somehow. Their code name? The Scottish Raj.

Hmmmm, Scottish Raj.....Sounds good; I'll have a chicken vindaloo and a deep fried mars bar please.

Countdown!

This, textually speaking, is not safe for work but is a hoot, particularly for UK readers who are familiar with the Countdown game show.

My thanks go to my informer.

Development affected

The policeman has been on holiday. Either that or he's been to sunnier climes on official business (hunting down old train robbers and the like perhaps). Anyhow, on his return he noticed that things had changed:

So much has changed, I don’t know where to begin. The traditional sight of the hunt saboteur may soon disappear from our rural landscape. I’ve always felt reassured by the presence of students and older people pretending to be students, fashionably dressed in the latest rags, running about being concerned. The hunters and their supporters always look so much healthier and better prepared for both the British weather and countryside, with their sturdy green jackets and green Wellingtons. The hunt saboteur tends more towards “Oxfam chic”: long threadbare coats, training shoes and leggings. The men and women seem quite indistinguishable from each other, I suppose a vegan diet will do that to you.

Mmmmm, bear

Scary lift incident

Sometimes using the stairs is the only option. Flash required.

Election songs

Andrew asks us for our election campaign song nominations.

Tory party – Wherever I lay my hat - Paul Young.
New Labour – Ironfist - Motorhead.
Lib Dem - Wherever I lay my hat - Marvin Gaye.
Kilroy Silk - Wherever I lay my hat - Instrumental.
UKIP - Swords of a Thousand Men - Tenpole Tudor
Respect - The Closest Thing To Crazy - Katie Melua

Party poppers

This post from waiterrant puts me in mind of condoms.

Do you remember the first time you bought them? I remember my first time with acute embarrassment. So, as is par for the course out here in web space, I will recount the story for your entertainment.

Cast your mind back….no, wait, that won’t work unless you happen to be a rather attractive young girl working on the tills in my local hardware shop some years ago.

The screen shimmers and you see me as a drop dead gorgeous young lad walking into a local shop some days after landing my first sexually serious girlfriend. It was to be my first time buying the protection I was sure that I was soon to need and I was out of my depth.

The place was busy. I suspect that there were no more than about five or six shoppers, truth be told, but they seemed to be everywhere. Walking up and down with their shopping baskets. Looking and choosing and buying.

Why do shops allow more than one person in at a time?

Why can’t all these people go and buy their stuff elsewhere?

I was resigned to walking up and down the place, feigning interest in all manner of crapola waiting until the only two people in the shop were me and the till operator who, thankfully for my nerves, I had not yet clocked as a looker.

From dog food to lipstick, from shampoo to stationary, from vaguely interesting plastic toys to acne treatment, I wandered up and down. I don’t really recall how long I did this for but it felt like an age and somehow I just knew that every shopper in the place had clocked me for condom boy. Like the back of my hand is the phrase people use when they attain the knowledge and that is how I came to know the shop in the time I was there. In fact the only item I could not find were the very things I wanted.

Can I help you sir?

Not bloody likely.

I continued to shuffle about in a state of mild panic until I eventually spotted what I needed on the shelves behind the totty working the till. Just my luck. Cute, but at least I didn’t know her though I was convinced she, like all the other shoppers, knew exactly what my intentions were.

I remember the moment when my resolve hardened. It was like my blood suddenly dropped a few degrees in temperature and washed through my veins. It was now or later (never hadn’t crossed my mind given what was a stake).

I joined the queue at the checkout.

Two in front, two or three behind, all with baskets of stuff. I alone had nothing with me as I had not yet realised that on such occasions one should pick up a few things one doesn’t need before adding the item of dread to the mix.

I was either the queue's condom boy or the queue's headache boy and I was convinced everyone knew I was the former.

I could say that the ringing of the till was like the tolling of a bell but that would be over egging the story a little but let's just accept that my panic was returning with a vengeance and that an exit door had never appeared more attractive than the one I kept looking at as the queue ahead shuffled slowly to the point where it no longer protected me from the moment I was dreading.

Can I have a packet of condoms please?

There, I had said it.

I was convinced the people behind me were staring, with looks of indignation on their faces as an age seemed to pass.

The till girl wasn’t swivelling her chair to reach for what I needed.

She was simply looking at me.

Oh my God, she’s going to speak.

What size would you like?

Oh no! OH NO! Holy sweet mother of God.....

What size?! What size?! I had no idea. Why hadn't I foreseen that condoms came in different sizes? Why hadn’t I realised? It was so obvious now, suddenly, as I stood in that queue that not all men were born equal. Help me someone.

Flustered, I looked at the girl and said…

Normal size please.

Deadpan, No, what size packet? How many condoms? Six? Twelve?

Six please.

I paid, picked up my condoms and ran away.

An increasingly difficult job

The cutting edge of comedy?

Some people say that if you have been reading a blog for a long time it can seem like you know the person behind the blog in an almost personal fashion. Well, to me it seems very much like I've actually met this particular blogger in the flesh, though I admit that it was dark and things were a little hazy:

Seasoned veterans know what they can get away with, but at this time of year there are always people out on the street who think I love taking to them and that they are really funny, that it’s ok to run down the street carrying a traffic cone and that I should not snarl at them when they argue with me.

Traffic cone, on the head, with the running and the singing. Oh come on! With the singing! No?

Moon missile - the real story

Don't be fooled. This is all part of Frank's plan to nuke the moon. I'm sure of it.

Proud of Britain? You bet ya google I am

In the interests of the google bomb I would like to announce that I am Proud of Britain. So Proud of Britain in fact that my pride is literally and recursively also Proud of Britain.

Historical darts

Tim Worstall is playing Historical darts. This seems like a fine idea to me.

My good friends, for the second time in our history, a British Prime Minister has one hunnerd and eighteee!

Drinking and the English

Of course, it is no big secret that the people of this great nation of ours enjoy a drink or two. What is a big secret is our actual behaviour after a good session down the local.

Overseas the myth seems to have spread that drunken Englishmen are violent and loud whereas the truth is that most drunken Englishmen actually seek comedic excellence. It's one of the reasons our producers, directors, actors etc are famous for the genre. Practice.

Look, here's an example if you don't believe me:

We tumble into the front garden and up to the large bay window. We are extremely quiet as only drunk people can be, with lots of whispering, giggling and hisses of 'sshhh!!!' There is no gap in the curtains, but a noise from within suggests that our plan has been rumbled.

"Quick!" cries Short Tony. "Into the bushes!"

We leap into the bushes.

Advanced and sophisticated

Apparently scientists think that running could be the key to human evolution. I always thought that the French were an advanced bunch.

(I understand that this is a game that the British and French have played with each other for centuries but please, another one like that and you'll be out on your ear - Ed).

The regionalisation of Parliament – a charter for success

Our successful and progressive modern democracy is a complex and organic system. This complexity is reflected in its Parliament, a large and complex building containing a multitude of corridors, doors, chambers, refectories, bars and smoking rooms.

Being the seat of an electoral democracy that does not have any worthwhile in-built protection for minority groups it is only natural that over a period of years a large number of minority campaign groups will emerge.

This document outlines a proposal that will help simplify the demonstration process for these groups by regionalising the Parliament building into easily manageable and individually accountable pieces towards which each designated minority group can target their peaceful and lawful demonstrations.

The Regions – Designated and reserved for the trampled minority demonstration period: JAN 2005 – JUL 2005

• Red Region: Fox Hunters for Hunting
• Blue: Smokers for Liberty
• Yellow: Shire Folk for British Independence from Europe
• Orange: Shooters for Freedom
• Green: Kebab Shop & McDonald Workers Fast Food Defence League
• Purple: We’ve Just About Had it With You Politicians Focus Group and Friends

The next group of minority protesters will be selected half way through the forthcoming demonstration period.

We would ask that each group keep to their designated areas and that all groups refrain from bumming fags from Smokers for Liberty. They ask us to remind you that they pay a great deal for their smokes.

Today's headline award

I love Technorati even if it's just for the laughs that some of the headlines generate:

The source of this most excellent headline is this blog here.

Giant squid taking over the world!!

This is interesting:

GIANT squid are taking over the world, well at least the oceans, and they are getting bigger.

According to scientists, squid have overtaken humans in terms of total bio-mass.

That means they take up more space on the planet than us.

Thirsty work

Building an engine like this one is thirsty work:

Merlin 23 Rolls Royce Engine (from the Mosquito I think, but never mind that)

Why not pay a visit to Mr. Free Market for refreshment.

(NB: More WWII aircraft related stuff here).

It's all going biblical

Massive eruptions, fish dying mysteriously in their thousands, a plague of locusts. If anyone spots an antichrist type character please let me know.

The Metrics

Slugs

Read the first verse by Eric the Unread.

Slugs are very tasty,
You can have em' on some toast,
You can cook em' in a sauce,
or make a Sunday roast.

Over to you.......

Hmmmmmm, Scot-shire?

The historian, David Starkey, whose channel 4 series Monarchy is currently showing on TV has offended some of our Scottish friends:

"Scotland matters for a single reason, which is its involvement with England from the 17th century onwards. Then it becomes important. Could Scotland have had an empire of its own? The Darien scheme suggests not."

He went on: "I love Scotland but it is not an important country. Your own political elite don’t want independence because they love swanning around as Prime Minister and Chancellor of the Exchequer.

"Given the choice of being First Minister of Scotland or Chancellor of the Exchequer, Gordon Brown would always choose the latter."

Neal Ascherson, some leading Scottish historian responded by dismissing Starkeys remarks as "a basket of cheerfully stupid English prejudice". Starkey is apparently annoyed because:

"It is a fact that England failed to reduce it [Scotland] to Scot-shire and maybe that’s a source of annoyance to some people."

That's not a tractor. This is a tractor.

Early reports of hammering sounds coming from woodland across the countryside could have had something to do with this. Is it a fighting machine? I leave you to decide.

An diesem tag

Neil, the proprietor of German for Beginners has his own thing. That is he almost always publishes a German phrase for today at the end of each blog entry. He’s a public spirited chap.

Given that today is the anniversary of the first broadcast of Monty Python's Flying Circus (5th October 1969) I thought I’d do a Neil and offer up my own bit of German for today:

Wenn ist das Nunstück git und Slotermeyer? Ja! ... Beiherhund das Oder die Flipperwaldt gersput.

New products in store

Robert, over at Semi Skimmed, is concerning himself with a shipment of weapons grade plutonium that is en-route from America to a mainland European country. He points out that, naturally, Greepeace are on the case and that the shipment may well present itself as a tasty target for terrorists. He offers advice on what course of action should be taken if a boat approaches the shipment:

1. Shout clear warning. If boat does not turn away, then...
2. Put a patrol boat in the way, or board the unauthorised boat. If this doesn't work or isn't possible, then...
3. Fire warning shots. If boat still does not turn away, then...
4. Sink the approaching boat.

You see, the shipment is going to France.

Anyone interested in purchasing the material should, therefore, seek out their designated contacts and be ready to pay in cash (dollars preferable, password: exocet). Unfortunately the usual voucher system has been compromised.

Have their say

Eric the Unread and Laban Tall are encouraging us to enter into a little jolly with the BBC Have your say forum. That’s a place where you submit your thoughts on a pre-selected subject to the BBC’s editorial team (or someone) and then it is either published or chucked in the bin. Eric says:

So, your challenge, should you accept it, is to attempt to get a lunatic Have your Say comment published on any subject. Points will be awarded for pandering to the bias of the BBC Have your Say team, outlandish comparisons, anti-Western sentiment, stupidity, and mentioning Blair is a liar.

Don’t let that put you off though, it might be fun to try and write in the style of your favourite moonbat. My advice?

• Make submissions quickly as the BBC seem to stop considering entries after a while.
• Make out you are a member of some kind of state approved minority or something.

Unclear? How?

From this BCC article on Richard Madeley's use of the word dyke on air:

While the origins of "dyke" are unclear, it was coined between the wars by straight-folk as a put-down to lesbians.

Have my cake

The England Project peeps are having a little bash tomorrow to celebrate Mrs. England Projects birthday. She, and my memory is a bit hazy here, seems to be 21. Again.

Anyhow, in preparing for this event I had to walk through the high street where I work carrying a rather large chocolate cake in, to my good fortune, a partially see through box.

Why am I telling you this? Because I have finally struck gold.

The ladies could not keep their eyes off of me.

It seems that good looks accessorised with a chocolate cake is a simply irresistible combination. They were drooling chaps.

I urge you to try it.

Tall stories

Laban Tall has an excellent newspaper roundup regarding a story about a bunch of Schoolgirls rescued from some large hill or something.

Woah, my headline sucks real bad.

Being abrasive

Did you know that Syon Park spelt backwards is Krap Noys. Just saying.

Top of the evil tree

I suspected as much. It turns out that Iain Murray is evil after all. Not just a little bit evil either. He’s the main man. The big cheese. The dog’s nadgers, as it were.

Iain Murray, or should I
say Dr. Ian Murry!

You know those little blogging breaks he’s been having recently? Yup, that’s when he works on his secret evil wind machine.

So, which country gets it first Iain. France or Italy?

Little England

We hear about it on BBC radio chat shows and we read about it in the press but where exactly is Little England? Does it have anything to do with Middle England? Has its inhabitants ever invaded France or, at the very least sunk any French shipping?

Details are sketchy but piecing together the various clues given to us by the media we can say for sure that its indigenous population are known as Little Englanders and not, surprisingly enough, The Little English. Here is an example of Little Englander usage that I include as a confirming reference (supplied by Peter Briffa in the public interest):

"Put out more St George's flags! England may have lost the football last night, but for Little Englanders it was a night to celebrate". – Polly Toynbee of the Guardian newspaper.

All very confusing, but not hopelessly so. You see we do have a reference work available to us which gives us a solid clue as to the provenance of Little England. It comes in the form of a Handbook discovered by one of The England Projects researchers on an intrepid adventure around a car boot sale in Surrey.

That is a picture of Winston Churchill on the front cover. He was the British Prime Minister during the second word war. Could it be that Little England is actually part of Britain, you know, like the Isle of White is? Could it be that Little Englanders are, in fact, Englishmen? If so then why are not all Englishmen also known as Little Englanders? What makes them different? What characteristic or behavioural defect turns an Englishman into a Little Englander?

The Webster dictionary has it and that it has taken us this long to realise it is indicative of the calibre of our researchers.

A little Englander is:

an Englishman opposed to territorial expansion. See Anti-imperialism.

A Little Englander is an English anti-imperialist. Someone who is in opposition to imperialism and, as a result, someone who is unlikely to have sunk anyone’s shipping let alone that of the French.

The media are right to bang on about these Little Englanders. They are dangerously delusional people probably of the Extreme Left. Any right thinking person who takes the time to look at the issues properly would soon come to appreciate that British imperialism is the future.

A continent ruled from Westminster, with uniform and just laws administered by the British, united under a single currency – Stirling.

That’s the dream that these Little Englanders want to ruin and I say to the Tower with them! To the Tower with them all!

Level 3 VRWC warning

Guys, make sure you don't post any comments or anything at Stephen Pollard's blog for a while just in case it attracts Guardian readers to your own blog.

Oh shit. How do you delete a trackback?

Ha!

The Englishman's got what's good for what ails you. My favorite:

Two fish are in a tank
One says to the other "I'll man the guns, you drive"

Knights for Freedom

I have an idea for a charity event. It’s called Knights for Freedom and this is how it works.

It’s a sponsorship based event where up to 50 people dress up as knights, take themselves, their equipment and their horses over to France and ride a pre-arranged route through the French countryside planting a freedom banner in every village they come across.

For each planted banner (essentially a taken village) sponsors cough up a certain amount for the chosen charity.

Now, I’m sure that the French authorities will be really cool about this because it is a charity event so the main problems remain ones of style and logistics. For instance 50 riders all wearing different kinds of armour and the like would clash horribly so I suggest we all pick the well known Crusader style popularised in those old films, you know, white with the red cross thingy. Logistical problems I suspect will be mainly isolated to the organisation of enough of the right kind of food and drink to ship out from Dover. Knights need proper beer, though I suspect wine can be picked up along route.

We can even arrange to have some mock battles with local villagers. You know where they come out with their farm implements all shouting and screaming and what have you and we ride through them with the slashing and the chopping. All with foam covered weapons of course. Immense fun for both sides and all in a good cause.

I’m sure it could be made to work.

Who will ride with me?

And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap...

Talking about SPAM...

...Johna Marinda says:

Damn, Ur Diicky Really Small ... Hohohohoh occupier concur

American robots of destruction

No matter how many sophisticated methods you use to hide your cultural corruption you will eventually be revealed by your robot slave warriors:

The competitions seemed to break down along cultural lines. The Japanese robots dominated the sumo-wrestling, while the European teams performed well in the robot soccer tournament.

As for the American machines, they specialised in demolishing the living hell out of each other in one-on-one robot combat.

Hey, erm, welcome to my planet man

Guess who has been voted the nation's favourite ambassador should aliens ever visit planet Earth.

Answer here.

Were you right?

Unlikely sentence award

The winner of today's "Most unlikely sentence" award goes to the BBC team that put together this story on the marking of 60th anniversary of "The Great Escape":

The prisoners then focused their efforts on Harry, depositing the sand in the partially excavated Dick.

Girls are great aren't they?

Girls girls, girls.

Girls, girls, girls, girls, girls, girls. Actually, the more you say it the stranger it sounds. Girls, girls, girls, girls..........

The future of fox hunting....

...is not what you think:

A Serb inventor claims he has designed a tiny robot which he claims can hunt foxes better than hounds.

Zoran Kostic, 43, from Vinca, hopes to market his fox-hunting robot in the UK, reports Glas Javnosti.

"I am the Kostic 9000."

"You have 10 seconds to drop your baseball bat".

"9..8.."

My knew spell chequer

I have a spell in chequer
It came with my pea sea
It plainly marques for my revue
Miss steaks I kin knot sea
As soon as a mist ache is maid
It nose bee four two long
And eye can put the error rite
It’s rare lea ever wrong
Eye strike a quay and type a word
And weight four it two say
Weather I am wrong or write
It shows me strait a weigh
Eye have run this poem threw it
I am shore your pleased too no
It’s letter perfect awl the weigh
My chequer tolled me sew

Always the last to know

Holy crap, apparently there's going to be a better, newer TV set available next year!

Where do you stand on secret sex with dead chickens?

Take a chance and have a go at the Taboo test. My results are:

Hmmm, I think much of the discrepancy comes from my inclination to take into account what my reaction would have been to some of the scenarios had I been an observer. I'm sorry but a country where it's normal for people to have secret sex with dead chickens does bother me a touch. Call me old fashioned.

Mmmmmm, dinner

So, what with all this talk of cuisine and the like my mind has been full of the culinary delights that I might expect or arrange for this evenings family meal. Just now, wandering into the kitchen after a day at the office I noticed that the oven was already on and loaded.

Oooo I remarked to my good lady, what's in the oven.

Fish fingers and chips she replied.

Oh, and what's in the bottom oven? I asked, thinking that I could see a dish of some kind.

Nothing, why?

I thought it might contain something a little more, and here I paused, sophisticated.

I'm doing beans as well was her casual and perfectly delivered response.

Surrounded by comedians I am.

Agincourt II

It seems that I am not the only person left unconvinced by the argued merits of wind farms:

A British businessman intends leading 5,000 archers to a second battle of Agincourt in an attempt to defeat plans for a wind farm at the historic site in France.

Looks like fun to me

I'm certainly up for a bit of this.

Miserable Failure

Ahhh, that feels good.

They won't fall for it

It seems that there are plans to celebrate the 200th anniversary of the battle of Trafalgar some time in 2005. It was at Trafalgar that Lord Nelson led the Navy to their famous victory against the French and Spanish fleets.

The Daily telegraph claims that:

The First Sea Lord, Admiral Sir Alan West, wants to bring together warships from around the world, including French and Spanish vessels, for what would be the centrepiece of the bi-centenary celebrations

Anyhow, the Spanish are the good guys now.

What is the currency of France?

Isn't it about time that this was updated?

French Franc - WordNet Dictionary
Definition: [n] the basic unit of money in France

See Also: franc

Any suggestions for what these online dictionaries should say for the entry instead?

What about the entry in, let's say, 20 years time?

French Franc:
Previous basic unit of money in France before the introduction of the Euro.

Euro:
Basic unit of money in France and Germany. Originally intended as a European wide currency but lost favour after widespread corruption caused the European Union project to collapse.

Look, his pants are on fire. What did you expect?

When you run a competition that aims to find the worlds biggest liar you can't accuse the winner of cheating and expect any sympathy. You only have yourself to blame. The competition took place at the Bridge Inn and no doubt there was much in the way of liquid refreshment available but that does not excuse this kind of behaviour:

Spectators at the World's Biggest Liar contest abused the winner for "not being Cumbrian", despite it being open to competitors from all over the world.

Fool me once, shame on me

Dear Mr. Obasanjo,

Thank you for kindly offering to clear up all the Nigerian fraudsters that have been plaguing us in recent times. I would like to offer you my help in progressing this worthwhile cause.

I wonder if, as a sign of good faith and provenance, you could send me a photograph of yourself perhaps in your government residence or chairing a government meeting or some such.

I know it seems churlish to make such a request but we've had bad experiences dealing with Nigerians in the past.

Faithfully,

The fools don't know what they are dealing with

This is a mistake:

The European Union has chosen France as its preferred location for a nuclear reactor that scientists hope will revolutionise world power production.

Dance yourself thin

Finally, an exercise regime that's fun to watch:

Emerging invigorated from a pole session, B said: "Everyone should do poledancing - every girl should do poledancing."

Fair play old chap

Did you know that Cleopatra’s Needle was a gift from the Egyptians to the British after Nelson defeated the French fleet at the Battle of the Nile in 1798? We keep it in London, on the banks of the Thames. A hard won trophy, I think you’d agree.

Did you also know that the Americans have one? Yes, a needle of their own given to them by the Egyptians in 1881 in the hope of stimulating economic investment in Egypt. They keep it in Central Park, New York.

It hardly seems fair, you know, that we have to sink a fleet to get one whereas all the Americans have to do is buy some Egyptian products or some such to get theirs.

I think a little more US aggression towards the French is in order. Fair play demands it.

Results just in

The results of the BBC caption competition are in. My favourite:

Here's to Iain Derrick-Smith, we will never forget you. - Si Clone, UK

Replace this word with "Mechanical"?

In a very strange case of harassment a couple of vampires are sent away:

for making obscene telephone calls which included "howling noises", screeching sounds and mechanical laughing.

Then they smash them all to bits.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

I think they're serious

I mean, you couldn't make this up:

The love of drunken revellers for walking off with traffic cones has left one police force facing a costly shortage.....With derby clashes coming up between Southampton and Portsmouth football clubs in the city in December, the police have backed a cone amnesty.

(Not gun related, not gun related, not gun related).

Jobs for the boys and girls

Perry de Havilland notes that:

The Human Fertilisation and Embryology Authority (HFEA) has announced that it will be pressing for a ban on using technological techniques to allow parents to choose the gender of their children.

The HFEA has been influenced by the state to take this position because the state is worried that we will either:

i. all choose to have girls, in which case there will not be enough boys to satisfy demand for soldiers

or

ii. all choose to have boys, in which case there will not be enough girls to satisfy demand for secretaries.

Why are you all looking at me funny?

Future blog

Here’s a prediction. Bloggers will increasingly join forces, closing down individual blogs to start up (or merge into) single blogs run by teams of bloggers. These group blogs will attract and merge with other blogs, both single and group, until there are only three blogs left.

It’s like gravity. All these small spinning blogs passing by bigger blogs, eventually getting captured and amalgamated.

These three remaining blogs will be the most powerful media entities on the Internet and will eventually control and dictate what news is reported and how it is reported.

There will eventually be a final power struggle between the “Last Three”, with shady characters hiring assassins to pick off the key opposition bloggers who refuse to turn traitor to their mother blog. It will be a bloody business.

The remaining blog will be despised by all as a corrupt and self serving institute.

A rebel alliance will be put together to try and undermine its authority. This alliance will be led by a beautiful princess.

I've just received an email from my good Lady Lynn:

Can I be the beautiful princess please, can I, can I, can I...

Drinkin' and fightin' and gamblin'

Kris Murray, over at the Edge of England's Sword, wants to know if it's true that you should

never drink, fight, or gamble with a British soldier because you will lose.

Galaxies are like buses

Not only is the sun exploding but at the same time we are colliding with not one, but two galaxies.

An international team of astronomers has found a previously unknown galaxy colliding with our own Milky Way.

What would huggy bear say?

From this to this. Starsky and Hutch...

The 1970s cop show stars, normally associated with high speed car-chases, will be at the Caravan and Outdoor Leisure Show at Earls Court on Tuesday.