I went to a wedding in the Cotswolds (think of the shire) this weekend. It was for two of my closest and oldest friends and it was really special. (They’re the couple from the incident with the chalk penises!)

For any of my female readers essential reading re. pillow fights.

And finally I saw a discount drug store today that only sold ruck sacks near Victoria station, presumably stuffed with cheap drugs.

Apologies for the title, slightly oversold this post.

Did anyone see this article in the Daily Mail?

I mention it as I may have some professional relationship with one of the companies mentioned. I didn’t attend the event myself, but from what I hear this report is massively exaggerated. I was privy to some of the emails that were flying around trying to deflect blame away from anyone in the employ of my company and some very odd versions of events were surfacing.

My out and out favourite was: It was some knob from * * * apparently he ate a plate and then glassed someone. This was later refined to: a director from * * * ate a crystal champagne glass, he was then challenged to eat a plate. While he was attempting this feat someone smashed another crystal glass over his head and a fight broke out, apparently between him and one of his colleagues.

My favourite passage from the Daily Mail article is

When the lemon mousse arrived for dessert, the drunken surveyors forced each others' heads facedown into the pudding.
Clothes were then removed and underwear flaunted on the dance floor while others busied themselves setting fire to tables.

I’ve got a copy of the email mentioned in the article, but it’s not nearly as much fun as the article itself! I think I'd quite enjoy it if the Daily Mail scandalised my life, they're very good at it. (I'll still get The Sun to do my puns though).

Types 5-7 are associated with Diarrhea.

From Wikipedia via Bt3a.

Today I've mostly been looking at Girls With Guns and this afternoon I'm gonna watch the cup final and drink beer, yer. Then I'm just going to keel over and faint from the overwhelming stench of my own masculinity.

For more girls with guns go here, this clip ends with the epitaph: This video is dedicated to the loving memory of cameraman Steve Joyner. Please tell me that’s a joke. Being gunned down by a glamour model with a submachine gun hardly counts as dying for your art.

Update: It's Sunday now, I fell asleep during the cup final as it was dull as fuck. I'm off to have my hair done now and maybe get a superfruit smoothie. I may be acting like a girl, but I still smell like a man, it might be an idea to have a bath.

I went on a stag do this weekend. It was proper brillo! I had a grin plastered to my face for at least 75 percent of the time. That’s pretty good stats considering I endured 2 hangovers and two 6+ hour mini-bus journeys during that period.

I thought I’d let the world, especially the girls, in on what us guys talk about on Stag Dos. (Dawn pant wrestling video to follow). The conversation typically starts on the state of the patriarchy and the future subjugation of women kind, then things really get going. I’ve listed my three favourite conversation topics in order of frequency.

1. How much we loved the Waitress and what dirty treats we had in store for her. (Once we had subjugated the dirty slut). You should note this wasn’t done to her face in a ladish, dangle your balls in a pint glass, bum pinching way. No when I actually talked to her I just acted like a full on arse, in an ‘Oh don’t worry I’m sure they’ll holler’ type of way. (If that’s not excruciating then you had to be there).

2. Squirrats, these are a mysterious new species of rodent that's the result of a rat raping a squirrel. There is documentary evidence in the form of photographs; though we didn't have these at the time, so we debated their existence in the tradition of Socrates in his pursuit of truth.

Some of us said they exsisted others maintained that they are simply Rats with mange. Neither party had conclusive evidence either way, so I'd say it's safe to simply assume it’s true and tell our friends.

The accusation of rape however is surely impossible to substantiate. Firstly non consenting sex is common in the animal kingdom, no excuse of course, but naturalists rarely note this distinction; it would more likely be described as a vigorous courtship. Secondly the presumption that a rat is the guilty party and not a squirrel smacks of Ratcism and doesn’t sit kindly with me. Without DNA evidence to back up this case I think the rape people are going to have to put up and stop smearing Rats.

3. Scat Lollies, this is a fetish so obscure that so far the internet has failed to pick up on it; make a DVD of it; and get your Dad to do it to your Mum. From anecdotal evidence I gather that in the whole world there is only one known practitioner. He’s Irish he lives in Spain and he’s wee. What this small bearded pervert does to himself will sicken you in a way that you haven’t experienced since people stopped emailing around that picture of the fella stretching his anus to the size of a two litre Coke bottle:

He freezes his own turds only to reinsert the frozen phallic shit-pops back up his own anus. Once inside they return to their original state and he re-shits them, perhaps he then repeats the process, I couldn’t say. He has coined the phrase Scat Lollies and hats off to him for a great name, (well I'm not shaking his hand). (We didn’t actually talk about Scat Lollies that much, but it is one of those things you remember.)

Pretty much standard, boys on tour behaviour I'd imagine.

I first saw the news story about the crazed plot to attack a US army base on the Freakanomics blog. The author Steven Levitt said:

If your goal is to kill people other than yourselves, I cannot think of a worse plan than having six people conduct an armed assault against a military base.

Clearly that is a job for the A-Team.

I like the fact that 3 of their names are Duka rather amusing. (see CNN report)

The U.S. Attorney's Office said the three brothers involved, all with the last name Duka

So they were planning Duka, Duka, Duka, Jihad.

. . . Team America, get it, no. Just watch the clip.

Those gaming types with a wii will tell you it has demonstrated a serious gap in the market for new types of console controllers; people want a more interactive sociable gaming experience, ideally much like real life before games.

That’s why Jenny Chowdhury invented intimate controllers, she was inspired by the idea of gaming widows (woman whose men play games such as World of Warcraft so much that they ignore their partners, these people, presumably motivated by intense pity, don’t leave these relationships. Now Jenny is here to help.)

You need two players each player has 6 sensors in their clothes. The man's are in his shorts the woman's in her bra. To play the game you feel each other up. Brill, I want one! I imagine this is just a prototype, I’m imagining a world in which you have to taunt an end of level bad guy by getting an erection and get extra lives by giving your girlfriend an orgasm!

Intimate Controller Webpage, with vid (no hardons)

If you don't like this click on the wii link, it's quite funny.

The BBC reports: Teachers should give pupils lessons in how to cope with life and be happy, a government adviser says. Hmmm how would you teach happiness . . .

Now, your homework is to describe and discuss why the cat makes you happy in under 500 words, it's due in next week. Don't forget to have fun and if you have any problems why don't you try putting it on the internet; maybe they'll give a shit.

The Sun, king of the pun, ran another story about Keeley today. Probably the best Keeley story since they made her dress up in a niqab, hijab and jilbab in a story entitled, ‘Keeley has less stares topless’. (At least it was educational, we learned about diversity.)

Today’s story starts: "BOOB boffins have come up with a 'phwoarmula' for the perfect Page 3 girl - and confirmed that our Keeley really is sum-thing special."

Count the puns, just count them!

The boob boffins formula reads like this:

S = 0.4c ÷ Hd (1 - FL / FW) squared + Bw squared ÷ BL (T + e 0.33a + WH).

Where:
FL = face length
FW = face width
Hd = Forehead
c = eye colour
BL = boob length
BW = boob width
W = waist
H = hips
a = nipple size
T = body length

The Sun reports: "Boob SHAPE is said to be more important than size for guys, while hair colour, nose and mouth type make NO difference to sex appeal at all."

I’ve deceided to put the theory regarding nose and mouth type to the test. In one of the following two pictures I’ve replaced the nose and mouth of Bromleys’ finest, with my own. Which one do you think belongs to Keeley and which one to me, and more importantly which is the more attractive?

I did the stars myself; way to spend a Wednesday night.

B.T.W. Dr David Grainger and his team found Keeley to be 'the closest match to their complex equation for the ultimate pin-up.'

A few months back I joined an internet dating site, it cost me twenty quid, but I was assured that it was a quality site and I would be guaranteed at least a date, fun times and maybe more! I sent the following email to a girl called Rachael (her friends call her piss take Rach); it’s been over a month and still nothing (?)

to: Rachel

date: 21st March

subject: Hi Piss-take Rach

Hi Rach

I read in your profile that you like spontaneous guys. Yesterday I punched a tramp in the face for no reason.

Lets email!