What to do on a Sunday morning? Make a pie chart of global defence spending. What a surprise the USA outstrips all other nations to an alarming degree. The figures are from 2004, you can see them in detail with the link at the bottom. I've just realised I forgot to put any actual numbers on the chart. America's portion equals 466 billion dollars, Brazil's equals 13.4 billion. That should give you an indication of the numbers involved.

Why do they need to spend so much? They have friendly countries to the north and south, ocean sized moats to the east and west. They are allied with all other countries with the military capability to launch an assault on their homeland. Not to mention their enormous nuclear arsenal, this, though controversial surely serves as an effective enough deterrent to anyone contemplating ‘having a go’.

Then I discovered why. They need to make death lasers. Check this movie clip out and watch out for the Israeli flag at the end.

Gloabldefence.org source of data.

If you like me find BP's Beyond Petroleum campaign a sickening bit of modern day Mega spin you might like this article.

Here's a telling quote.

BP’s “beyond petroleum” advertising campaign is expected to cost the company $100 million a year – three times what it’s actually spending annually on solar power".

For the lucky ones who haven't yet been exposed: The Beyond Petroleum campaign is an attempt to make B.P. look greener through spin and highlighting their small, relative to their oil business, investments in alternative energy sources.

They also have adverts on the telly were they highlight the opinion of those well known climate scientists the general public especially taxi drivers. Their pearls of environmental wisdom are along the lines of, 'no ones really knows do they guv'. Well maybe if you asked someone slightly more qualified than a taxi driver!

Article, I warn you it's long!

Smaller Article slagging them off.

I went out last night. A pleasant evening, which had some complications for which I am now suffering.

The highlight of the evening however was meeting the MilkyBar Kid, 1989 - 1991. I hadn't realised I was talking to such a luminary of the advertising world until his friend told me. Just as this happened my friend called me to cheat in a pub quiz; he wanted to know the real name of Elton John. I'm no Elton expert, I like him, but no expert. I didn't know the answer (it later transpired that his name was Reg Dwight), but I told my friend Tom I was with the MilkyBar Kid 1989 - 1991.

Now my friend is blonde and wears contacts, in the period 1989 - 1991 he, like the MilkyBar Kid, wore glasses. Children can be cruel and looking like a cutesy advertising hero was a good enough reason to taunt poor Tom mercilessly. The anguish and pain ran deep and Tom, seeing a chance to lash out at his childhood tormenter, offered me 50 quid to punch him. I floated the idea to the MBK's friend; they are actors and since there was money in it I proposed they saw it as an acting role. Well the negotiations started in earnest, it would appear that there are a number of basic conditions to meet before actors will work. The wrangling continued along the lines of fees, perks, etc. The unions were involved and eventually we hammered out a compromise. The Milky Bar Kid 1989 - 1991 would slap me and his mate's girlfriend would film it on her phone (very kindly waving her technicians fee)

So that is the story of how I got slapped by the Milky Bar Kid. He's very professional, he did it in two takes. They had promised to email me the footage and I will be sure to show you all, but as yet it hasn't showed up.

At least two-thirds of our miseries spring from human stupidity, human malice and those great motivators and justifiers of malice and stupidity: idealism, dogmatism and proselytising zeal on behalf of religious or political ideas.

Aldous Huxley

I’m not that sure where he got his figures from, but this echoes what I’ve been saying for so long it makes me think I must have read it somewhere before. It’s a very compelling argument for not taking anything too seriously.

At Christmas I got my little brother a book called The Lay Guide. I will admit I didn't spend a massive amount of time choosing this book. The thing that caught my attention was the chapter titled: speed seduction. Speed seduction appears to be some kind of Derren Brown style mind control technique. The bit I read was a kind of case study; in it a practitioner of speed seduction explained one of his favourite scenarios. You use it in a conversation and the charmee/victim has an overwhelming need to sleep with you.

The book had a detailed description of the scenario including when to touch your groin and them. I was telling my friends about it at the weekend and some of the girls demanded I test it on them. (I haven't used it previously) No one had sex with me but the girl I tried it on (who had a boyfriend present) said that it had a strong effect. Some of the girls watching (including my flat mate who would rather punch me than have sex with me) claimed that they also felt a strange attraction, it seems the key component is stage 4. This almost certainly was a combination of alcohol and the power of suggestion, but the fact remains that the technique still exists. I have detailed the rough approximation I used at the party below.

1. Do you like roller coasters.
2. Before you get on its scary but you get on anyway and you don't regret it.
3. It goes up and down and its really exciting. (Touch Them)
4. The great thing about it is although its scary you have a really great feeling of being safe and secure the whole way round. (Touch Groin)

Weighted Pause.

5. I guess in a lot of ways its allot like a relationship.
6. Wait a couple of hours, have sex.

I would be interested in peoples opinions of the ethics of this kind of thing. Is this just charm broken down into its component parts or is this an underhand Dick Dastardly style trick tantamount to date rape? Do you have a similar technique? I would most like to hear from anyone who has been brainwashed by Derren Brown (burn the witch) into acting as his sex slave in his love dungeon. I'm thinking of setting up a support group.

I found this cutting in todays Metro Light.

Its hard to read. The text says:

CAN'T STOP MASTURBATING?

TV company is looking for men who are addicted to masturbation for a new documentary. Please call 020 7534 0211 or email TV_company@yahoo.co.uk

That number once again: 020 7534 0211.

Continued from Blog of 4 April.

It's over. Thanks to an article in today’s Daily Mirror my time as Kolo Toure is defiantly over. I will summarise the article for those who haven't seen it. Under the headline 'Premiership Fakeballer', (come on Mirror your better than that), there is a picture of my new glamour model girlfriend and me at a charity bash we went to on Sunday. The article starts:

Martin Johnson, WHITE, a 25-year-old trainee camel tickler from South London has been impersonating the Arsenal and Ivory Coast Premiership footballer Kolo Toure. It is thought Mr Johnson started impersonating the 5million pound superstar last Tuesday, since then he has been sighted driving an Aston Martin and leaving a number of the West Ends most exclusive night clubs with a string of glamorous woman including most notably Dolly Bird from the lads magazine Nuts.

They've even got a quote purporting to be from an ex-colleague.

When he first started calling himself Kolo Toure we all found it a bit strange. He doesn't look like he could tell a football from a fat hamster and when we had a kick about at the summer picnic he went up for a header and ended up scratching his iris. He had to go to casualty.

They claim that my Wikipedia entry has been deleted even though it hasn't which means they are unqualified to check the simplest of facts.

The worst insult is that they've got a psychologist to diagnose me; in absentia I might add. Listen to this:

Glasgow University psychology expert Prof Paddy O'Donnell said conmen like Johnson created make-believe worlds to escape dull or traumatic lives. . . It brings emotional relief, believing everyone loves them and that they're this powerful, respected person.

Well with a write up like that no wonder Frank Lampard has stopped returning my calls. (Which is lucky really cos I owe him about £700,00 from last Fridays poker night). They've taken the Aston Martin away too. I don't think I will bother calling Dolly, she was a bit dim anyway; she’s probably forgotten who I am. Still at least I've got the sex tape. I wonder how much I can charge on the Internet, I hope Frank won't be too angry.

Bobby Big Balls was on fire. He'd just closed a 20 mill deal and he felt top. Time for some coffee he thought. Standing by the coffee machine was the new trainee Tanzeer tiny todger.

"Who are you?" said Bobby.

"Tannzeer, I'm a trainee."

"Where're you from?"

"Corporate Vals. I moved over to work wit. ." Tanzeer stuttered and Bobby cut him off.

"Originally, where're you from?" barked Bobby impatiently.

"I'm from Sheffield."

"Originally. What's your origin?"

"My parents are from Pakistan"

"Where abouts?"

"Pashtun."

"Do they play Cricket there?"

"Yes, my faaa. . " Bobby cuts Tanzeer off again and fires off another question.

"Do they play rugby?

"No."

"Do they row?"

"No"

"Do they sail"

"Actually the sea. ." Tanzeer's reply petered out Bobby was walking away. He was left exhausted. The whole exchange had lasted less than twenty seconds. The barrage of questioning felt less like a conversation and more like someone trying to hack into his mind and download information. Tanzeer knew this was only a probe and determined never to take the lift again. The possibility of being in a confined space with Big Balls while he downloaded his life data sent a shudder running right through him. In the distance he could hear a barking Big Balls interrogating Florrie Floppy Fanny on the details of her menstrual cycle.

Lily Allen

I heard her on the radio yesterday downloaded her tune, LDN and I've been playing it all day. An ideal summer song. I just hope I don't wear it out before the summer. have a listen.

I was feeling a bit down this morning: works been getting me down, I've been working late nights on extra work and it's still not good enough. The feelings of inadequacy have become overwhelming. That's why this morning I decided I was Kolo Toure, the victorious Arsenal centre back. Having just disposed of the champions of Italy in their own stadium I feel at the peak of my career.

Physically I'm completely transformed, I'm an ebony Adonis. Fitness wise I could run five miles, floor a horse with one punch, kick a football over the moon and still have the energy to have a threesome with a couple of glamour models.

My feelings of inadequacy and status anxiety have completely evaporated. I'm more generous; I've given my girlfriend a £5,000 a week shopping allowance. My social life has improved; I read in the paper that I spent last weekend with Frank Lampard and Zinadine Zidane on a yacht in Malaga.

Becoming Kolo Toure was the best decision I've ever made. I just hope I can get tickets for my dad to watch me in the semi final. I think he will be really proud. About time.