On the Londonist blog I found this shocking picture of what Trafalgar Square might have looked like had Napoleon conquered Britain.

LINK

On the BBC - A man convicted of being a serial flasher told a court he could not be guilty as his genitals were too small. LINK

From Boing Boing - cop ejaculates on a motorist but escapes criminal liability - basically a policeman uses his authority to get a stripper to toss him off, and uses his conections with good lawyers to get off scott free. LINK

And in the theme of sensationalist headlines to attract more links from internet weirdoes try - Grandmother saved by daughter's poo - so you hope I'll link to your newspaper do you, The Telegraph. LINK

Grandmothers and poo brings me neatly around to my next item. Remember Two Girls One Cup. I posted about it here and here. Basically to play the game you watch other people watch some shock porn, which you will all have guessed by now involves vomit and shit, and rather than look at the porn you look at how they react to the porn. I can't believe this has actually happened, but someone has shown it to their Grandma! I hope they aren’t expecting to inherit.

And people don’t watch the offending clip and for fucks sake don’t show it to your elderly relatives. (If you do of course plz film).

I must learn to pick my fights better. Imagine I'd got myself into the following entirely hypothetical situation: say a person was working for a client and they are trying to negotiate a licence with that client's landlord to make an alteration to the landlord's building, but the client has already made the alteration diminishing their bargaining position, however they are a good tenant so they still have some weight.

Imagine the client must pay the landlord's fees, if I were to request an invoice for the fees and receive a response along the lines of 'please provide a cheque and we'll provide an invoice'. Say I was to reply with 'WTF! Invoice first then money, that is how it works dick wad'. Say next day we receive notice that they won't agree to our preferred terms and we are forced to accept less favorable terms, however they are happy to provide the invoice in advance. If your client was privy to all these communications it may look like you'd picked the wrong fight and that would be bad!

Learning what fights to pick is very important, George Bush picked the wrong fight in Iraq and now he can't touch Iran while Iran freaks around with fissile material. Both Hitler and Napoleon wished they never picked fights with Russia during the winter, look what happened to them, and Jodie Marsh never properly recovered from her tit-off with Jordan. (If history has taught us anything it is never challenge Jordan to a tit-off).

Recently it appears that some people may be picking a fight with the West, how else would you explain this. All this has been rumbling on for a while with both sides picking up on any petty flashpoint they can get there hands on, and judging by the reaction of our press to the recent story of the Teddy and the Teacher we’re bang up for it, so to speak.

I don't have the world’s greatest track record for picking fights; I've still not recovered from Mark Drackett, year 7, in the school gym, so I won’t try and pick the winner in this one, but the lesson from history could very well be that there will be no winner, as far as I know Mr Drackett never finished school and I still can't set foot in any place of exercise. My advice for all involved is, calm down! Calm down!

Update: I once read that when couples argue before the argument is resolved one side will offer the other an out. For a couple an out could be a joke, or a quick smile, or a reference to something they experienced together. An out is basically an offer to stop fighting and start negotiating. When one side consistently ignores the other sides outs the relationship is over.

Was the 15 day, apparently lenient, sentence an out from the Sudanese courts? Because if it was it was ignored by both sides!

British Government: "extremely disappointed"

Bearded nut jobs: "Shame, shame on the UK", "No tolerance - execution" and "Kill her, kill her by firing squad".

All I am saying is give peace a chance, come on everybody sing it, all I am saying is give peace a chance.

Choosing a name is really tricky, so what better than an internet poll. Have you read the comments on Youtube? !

Help Greenpeace choose a name for a whale: this poll seems to be a foregone conclusion, just have a look down the list and see if you can see what name me and everyone else went for. (You have to read a bit; it is more than half way). LINK

Just thank an unnamed deity that Muhammad isn't an option. (In case you’ve not been paying attention the latest story re. the unmentionable prophet and the bearded nut jobs LINK-to-BBCstory)

Whale story on BoingBoing

In the strangely modern genre of junky baiting Amy Winehouse is very much the now and for this reason the Brighton centre could have sold out several times over last night despite the almost daily reports that Mrs Winehouse is only a couple of beats away from total meltdown/rock and roll death. It was these reports that were foremost in the minds of an increasingly restless crowd, two hours after the support act had left the stage, with no sign of Winehouse.

It was at around the two hour mark that the crowd at last responded to my calls for a riot and really started to get restless, I had been attempting to incite the mob from around the one hour fifteen mark, but the house had been gradually cranking up the PA system in an attempt to cover our increasingly vocal grumblings. This was probably made worse by the fact that many of us had to be on a train back to London by 11.30. (Including the comedian Stewart Lee who I shared a carriage with).

We couldn't see the stage while we waited as it was hidden behind a curtain but the set, when it appeared, wasn't very complicated, so it seems reasonable to assume that the delay originated with Winehouse. I hope she missed a train, I expect she was feeding Crack to a hamster and forgot the time, I fear she doesn't give a fuck about anyone least of all her fans, or for that matter herself, she certainly didn't seem to be that enamoured with her band.

She appeared on stage about ten minutes before I would have walked out and for that I have to be thankful. She didn't move around the stage much, when she did it was jerky. (Have you seen the youtube video of the little girl with muscular dystrophy dancing in leg callipers, yer just like that). The whole visage is childlike, a little girl that has raided her mother's wardrobe and is tottering around in high heals and make up. When she allowed her dress to ride up, or she adjusted her cleavage, somehow it heightened the sense that what we were witnessing was exploitative. In short she looked just like the Amy Winehouse the press loves, a vunerable mess.

All she said to the crowd before she started singing was 'hello Brighton', but then she sang and all was forgiven. I'm quite confident that the sound of her vomiting is tuneful. She has an amazing voice and managed to keep her mouth close enough to the mike to blast out pretty much every note. I'm no expert, but as far as I was concerned her performance was excellent. This is what sets her apart form that other dancing junky Pete Doherty, I saw Doherty in Camden and he was shit.

She did stop one song short, we all held our breath for the meltdown, but she started again and nailed it. She disappeared from the stage at one point to allow her band to introduce themselves/ take drugs, (no the band weren't taking drugs, I'm inferring she was, she could have just needed the toilet) but she came back on again and even, I'm told, did an encour.

So excellent for singing, but you let yourself down through poor timekeeping Amy; we're worried about your commitment Amy; we're worried that you have stopped giving a shit about your public. Is this that surprising, do we really give a shit about her? (Before she came on I checked the Internet on my phone to see if she was dead, after all if she was dead I could get an earlier train).

Update: I wrote this in a place where I couldn't watch the youtube post I link to; having reviewed the post I've appalled even myself! Of course I didn’t make the video

I'm going to watch a woman sing who gave Crack to a hamster, to death. God knows what she does to the bees that live in her hair.

Could an alcohol unit trading scheme be implemented. In the scheme those that have not surpassed the government recommended weekly units, such as children and prisoners, are able trade their undrunk units with useless drunks like myself on the open market much in the same way as carbon credits are traded in the E.U.

If someone is freezing on mount everest and you are rushing to rescue them, can you buy them more time by talking about them and making their ears hot?

This is a picture of the queue/crowd to get into a ‘Secret Party’ in Shoreditch on Friday night.

For those of you not familiar with London or the Mighty Boosh for the last few years Shoreditch has been the centre of trendyness in the capital populated by skinny jean wearing individuals commonly refereed to as Shoreditch Twats, the kind of people that would queue round the block to be punched in the face by Pete Doherty. This queue didn't diminish in the slightest the whole night, I think people were simply joining it because it was the place to be in the place to be.

BBC news website, lunchtime, most read stories, number 1, Actor swears at switch-on crowd. Imagine my delight when I found out said 'actor', swearing at the crowds when turning on the Christmas lights, was Paul Danan.

Did they call you a sex pest Paul.

LINKOS

This little voucher is doing the rounds of my office. I got it from a colleague whose G.F. works for Dolche and Gabbanna so that lends weight to it. Download print out and buy some clothes sown by Bangladeshi children as young as ten with a wopping 60% discount.

Updateeimo!: GAP hit publicity jackpot the BBC report that these vouchers are fake, a doctored version of a 30% voucher, or could it have been doctored by GAP to garner more publicity!?!. Regardless "The retailer has been offering 30% discounts to people turning up at stores with the fake vouchers." (Author's italics)

This rap from Anon (not me) sums it up:

Tough talk from a guy who shops at the GAP
All you've done here is start a verbal attack!
G ... A ... P stands for Gay And Proud
With 60% off, it's raining men from a cloud.
Clearly loving the rain you tell me "in your face",
I'd save that line for your next rear GAP embrace!

20% off at Selfridges, I'll post any more of this kind of thing I come across here for anyone interested.

40% Off Wine and Champagne at Threshers

Thursday 6th December - Sunday 9th December 20% off @ House Of Fraser

I've discovered a great way to start the day, bus chasing. This morning when I turned the corner to my bus stop the bus was sitting in a traffic jam about 5 yards BEFORE the stop, so I mosey up to the stop and stick my hand out and the guy drives straight past, I bang on the door, I know he's seen me, a feeling familiar to all London commuters rises within me, indignant rage. So I started running; I ran past the bus which is in a jam; I skipped recklessly across a double roundabout and I'm sprinting towards the next bus stop when the bus pulls up, 3 girls get on, but the driver manages to shut the door and pull away just a fraction of a second before I get there. I bang on the door for a second time, as the bus pulls away I can see some cunt laughing at me. I didn't even think this time I just carried on running, to wash the adrenaline out more than anything else. I didn't think there was a hope of getting to the next stop in time; last time the bus beat me and it had to negotiate a zebra crossing and a double roundabout, this time it's an open road with no traffic, but as I turn the slight bend I see the bus it's stopped, has he had a change of heart, is he impressed by my perseverance? No, as it transpires a couple of Estonian fellows are trying to pay, but don't have the right money. The driver thinks he’s left me behind and hasn't noticed I was still following, or he would have undoubtedly shut the door and moved off by now. He is a visibly surprised when I jump through the door hands in the air in triumph. I get a little cheer from the cunt, beep my pass in and go sit down. The driver tells me I'm dangerous, sour grapes looser, I epitomise the never say die spirit of an Englishman, my quarry vanquished, I sit before you in victory, a winner!

I while ago I blogged about the abhorrent, decadent, French, evil that is bottled water. Well this guy has written a much better, more facts less shrill opinion/jingoism, article on the subject.

OOOH health implications, if you like to get paranoid about everything giving you cancer then readthis. Hopefully it will only effect the French.

I realise I am probably too offensive to be an effective activist, I don't have the time for such trifles as balance, but if your interested in a more rounded, but equally damming summary on the subject with juicy quotes like 'Bottled water can cost up to 10,000 times more per gallon than tap water' then go here. Though I will point out that for all their jouralist integrity they seem to pussyfoot around the real culprits failing to point the finger at France at any time; hold onto that thought people and blame France.

Failing that you could try drinking rats milk.

Did anyone else know that Katie Price aka Jordan was a novelist. I didn't either, but then I spied her second novel on the shelves of my local bookstore. I thought I should take a picture of it for posterity right there on the bookshelf right next to . . . Proust.

I’m sure Proust is happy to share a shelf with Price, I'm sure he would have appreciated the Juxtaposition, after all it was often remarked upon that his tits were unnaturally small.

Proust:

In this opening volume of Proust's great novel, the narrator seems at first to be launching a fairly traditional life-story. But after the prelude the narrator travels backwards rather than forwards in time, in order to tell the story of a love affair that had taken place before his own birth. Swann's jealous love for Odette, together with the comic antics of the Verdurins and the adoring members of their 'little clan', provide a prophetic model of the narrator's own love-relationships and peregrinations in salon society. All Proust's great themes - time and memory, love and loss, art and the artistic vocation - are here in kernel form.

vs Price:

This is a glittering and sexy story of passion and betrayal and one woman's search for true love. Crystal is beautiful, talented and ambitious. All her life she has dreamed of making it as a singer. After years of trying to break into the music industry her chance finally comes when her girl band enters a TV reality show contest. All Price's great themes - time and memory, love and loss, art and the artistic vocation - are here in kernel form.

I'm thinking of using this image for MGFGTG T-shirts. They would be printed on organic fair trade cotton and retail for around nine pounds, plus postage and packing. Just trying to gage interest before I start manufacturing, anyone interested? Order now an ideal Christmas present.

Now I just have to get Emsbabee to model one.

LINKOS

Also see new vid in the list, to good to hide in the list.

A man caught having sex with Bike, in his bedroom, is made to sign the sex offenders register and given 3 years probation. (BBC) Will we all need a criminal record check when buying new bikes? Because I would hate for an unsuspecting bike to fall into the hands of this beast!

OK, so his bedroom was in a hotel and the cleaners caught him, which must have been a little upsetting. (Worse things happen you know, people poo in each others mouths). But I would like to think if I paid for a night in a hotel room with a bike I would be free, should I choose, to stick my dick in/on/against it.

If he was wanking into a sock would that be bad; what about a sock shaped bike; or a bike made of towelling?

Now if I could just choose a picture. . .

Update:

This is now all over the news. The big debate in the office and the pub seems to skim over the violation of his freedom (Hard won by Mel Gibson, he is a Scot) and focus on how, how do you have sex with a bike? I had assumed you use some grease and take the saddle off. Other suggestions: your the girl and the bike is an offroader, I mean the marmite motor cross, I mean you stick the handlebars up your bum! The other option, suggested by the guy who sits next to me at work, you spin the wheel and dangle your bits on it. (He wasn't joking, this is what he was imagining!).

A song by Herman Dune. Video by Toben Seymor. Read an interview with director here.

Some other stuff I’ve noticed:

Meet people that clearly don’t have a dust allergy, Furrys like to dress up in sythetic fur and play make believe and, of course, go to conventions. Another subculture made possible and spared the customary level of persecution thanks to the internet. (From Boing Boing T.V.)

Japanese tourists, click, click, click, can they go anywhere without taking a picture? New pics and vids of the Moon thanks to the Japanese Aerospace Exploration Agency; unfortunately it doesn’t contain Noel Fielding’s face.

How to win at Monopoly, just in time for Christmas. I'm expected to win in my family as I ostensibly work in property, it doesn't quite work like that though.

(Both From Kottke)

Oh and why not watch this very good Daffy Duck cartoon.

You may have noticed something of a phase shift in this blog recently, no, you're still a terribly disturbed pervert with a penchant for collecting other peoples socks and a habit of writing in the third person; well you must have missed the issues, which have so far been mainly about the environment. I thought I had better explain myself you see a dramatic shift has occurred in my personally philosophy which has compelled me to do, or rather wiped out my last excuse for not doing, good.

It all started when I found myself laughing at a picture of a fat woman at the beach, stuck in a deckchair, being rescued by the coastguard from the advancing tide. Oh I see, yes a powerful metaphor, mankind stuck in gluttony is powerless to escape the rising seawater, as nature reclaims the equilibrium in the flowing ebbing tide, before long all that was mankind will be grains of sand on the shore; a twenty-first century King Canute; Umm, no not exactly.

What I thought when I saw this picture was: ‘ha ha ha, look at that fat woman, she's wearing a hat and she's stuck.’

But I realised that my laughing may well have been wrong. But how could it be wrong? The picture had been forwarded around the office, lots of people were laughing, so I thought, it can't be wrong. If I were at the autopsy of a diabetic, or at a Weightwatchers meeting then it would be wrong, but I'm not so I can laugh, ha ha.

I then went on to hypothesize that humor and morality may be linked. Humor is entirely subjective to time, place and circumstance. Could right and wrong be entirely subjective to time place and circumstance too? Could I at last have the evidence I require to excuse myself from pissing on the on-fire people?

You see if right and wrong is subjective, like humor, then:

Laughing at afflicted, OK with friends, not OK with afflicted

Casual racism, OK if you’re Enid Blyton, not OK on the 171 to Peckham

If morality is subjective than I can just live in my little world and worry about the things I do, and not have to worry about anything that happens to anyone else because how do I know that these bad things are happening in places, or times, or circumstances that mean that they are actually bad?

Stoning gays, OK in Iran, not OK on the strand; and it was on the Strand that Amnesty International got two pounds out of me, a clever trick indeed!

Countries getting/having nuclear weapons, OK if you’ve got nuclear weapons, not OK if you don’t have nuclear weapons

Predictably this is were my argument came tumbling down and instead of finding proof of my moral relativity I found that it was massively flawed and that, though difficult to interpret, right is right and wrong is wrong regardless of time, place and circumstance.

I suppose this means I'm obliged to try and make the world a better place, which is ever so darned inconvenient as I’m really busy right now and I don’t know the first thing about international diplomacy, but I may be able to make you smile; look at this fat woman, she’s stuck, she’s got a funny hat on and she is proof that innate Goodness exists (as well as innate badness).

Not laughing, then try to see it as a poignant metaphor for global warming.

A while ago I linked to a clip of people watching a clip. The guys watching the clip nearly puke cos the thing they’re watching is so foul and once you’ve seen that you have the option to watch the offending clip, the vomit inducing clip, should you choose to mentally scar yourself.

That Post

Well for all of you who had the good sense not to watch the offending video (I hope you held out Jo) here is a really nice acoustic guitar love song that will enlighten you as to its content. You’ll find this funny even if you watched it, that’s if you can still smile.

Found bt3a, again.

Like my blog, but written by cats!

Linkyity Dinkity

Found: bt3a

Opening a jar for a lady, not the first time, but after a couple of other blokes have had a go at it first and failed – “all in the grip guys, all in the grip.”

This has happened to me approximately twice in my life and it is a feeling so good that it fully explains how lesser men manage to get hernias trying to achieve it. Should the jar-woman be obliged to have sex with the victor? Probably, though this might stop you opening jars for your old Mum.

BEHOLD - a timeline of human history. I found it more coherent to scroll through it backwards.

From Kottke.org

I’ve just finished watching the first episode of the third series of TheBoosh. I watched it streaming on the BBC3 website. I recommend you do the same. I won’t give too much away other than to say it was rather jumpy at points due to the streaming, a bit like watching a comic strip in that respect. Other things: the moon is still in it, whoo. Rich Fulcher is still in it, that’s Bob Fossil to me and you, he’s in drag. The Cockney makes an appearance too. Oh just go watch it.

If you ain't from the UK you may not be able to watch it, do I have any non UK readers? So sorry about that, but The Mighty Boosh is funny, so lobby your politicians to show it on your telly, after the dancing bears of course.

Last night I went to a gig. I'm not much of a muso, so when I go to a gig I'm focusing on the holistic gig experience as much as the music. I shall start my retelling of the experience at the band's names. Last night the bands were called Joe Lean and The Jing Jang Jong, Pete and The Pirates and Ida Maria. The first thing of note: The first two bands have the same name format, alliteration either side of 'and the'. A format pioneered by such music greats as Mike and the Mechanics and Adam and the Ants. JL and the JJJ had managed to mix this up with a play on words to start and no plural to end. These guys are mavericks I thought, we could be in for some ride!

I was in Dublin last weekend and chose to go a gig based purely on the bands name: Herbal Spaz. They were supporting Discarded Retarded. It was in a tiny little room above a pub. The place was full of very young Irish lads and lasses all dressed up for Halloween. Apparently everyone knew each other, but in true Irish style we were made very welcome and the bands were great.

The only disappointment was that Herbal Spaz had changed their name to Cops and Robbers. This did have a plus side as it meant the bassist wore a mask, obscuring his vision and leading to him falling off the stage. I think this is my number one indicator of a great band; one of the members so caught up in their performance manages to fall off the stage. The same thing happened to Lovefoxxx of CSS when I saw them at the Latitude festival. She is an example of a truly great performer.

The Good the Bad and the Queen, who were, simply put, shit, followed CSS at Latitude. Daman Albarn was so nonchalant that he spent half the time sat on a speaker. My reaction: a barrage of abuse yelled at the stage, although directed at Albarn, more meant to correctly educate anyone within earshot to his status as a total fucking wanker.

Incidentally the next evening at the same festival I saw Jarvis Cocker put in a great performance that was only marred by a keyboardist that looked so bored I spent the entire set composing a letter in my head to Jarvis. The jist of the letter, which never got sent, was that Jarv should do himself a favour and put the mopey bastard behind a curtain.

Onto the bands in question: Ida Maria, good, had that bouncy Scando enthusiasm that reminds me of Bjork. Pete and the Pirates: very good, nice tunes, kind of geeky bunch with an endearing amateurism that wasn't reflected in their professional music. Pete is fucking skinny, though I'm told he has put on weight. Apparently this is attractive, why do I only find this out when I'm starting to develop a beer belly? (I was fucking skinny when I was a boy).

Joe Lean and The Jing Jang Jong: let me start by saying these guys were pretty good, but they irritated me. Their lead singer had the distinct wiff of a cunt. First of all he came on to the stage after the rest of his band, like they were just a bunch of jobbing musicians and we were just there to see him as the main attraction; secondly he thanked all 'the support bands' - mate you might be playing last, but I'm here to listen to you just as much as I am the others, (though I did hear the radio DJ Steve Lamac say in the queue that he had come to see them, so perhaps they are a bit bigger than the rest.) His stage persona was a bit of a cross between Mick Jagger and Ian Curtis, not that I've seen either of those except on telly, so on the face of it very good indeed, but it didn't quite click with me, so I made a wanker sign at him.

The only other thing that detracted from this other wise good gig was that I keep ending up in through fairs. I hate being in that spot were everyone decides to squeeze past you. I think I contributed to this in two ways: one by standing in crap spots and two by being a soft target and not pretending not to notice people hovering on my shoulder. The crowd had formed a concentric ring pattern with the stage at the epicentre and I was standing close to the point were the ring of least resistance was nearest to the bar/toilets. At one point a particularly burly looking man blocked the route and sent the shuffling gig goers scattering down alternate routes, but they gravitated back to my ring with a surprising velocity forcing me to swear loudly, again.

There has been a shooting in Jokela High School in Finland, sob, all those young blondes. The BBC reports that there was a video up on Youtube called "Jokela high school massacre 11/7/2007" He struck early the swine.(They go to school on Sundays in Finland(?) perhaps a diversionary tactic). The BBC states the police are yet to comment on the video, but I'd imagine it would've gone something like this:

Comment from user: Da Bizzies

INVISIBLE POLICE - Lollrz - I can has justice sk1llz

Update: the BBC have changed the article removing their quote about the police commenting on the Youtube video, but I think the joke stands by itself.

This blog post is excellent. It is by Scott Adams, he writes the Dilbert blog and does the Dilbert cartoons too, I'm not sure if he makes the Dilbert coffee mugs, probably does.

Update: it turns out this guy is a bit of a freakin nut job, he has written a post advocating the invasion of Pakistan! I don't think he is joking. He seems to take the abuse quite well though.

Have you ever been drunk in a pub with someone who is utterly convinced that one of Bros is dead? So convinced that they’ve started to convince other people that one of Bros is dead, people have started saying stuff like,

“Yer I have a vague memory of something like that”

And alas, unless you are hooked up to the net 24 hours a day, you are unable to check this fact.

In that situation the best approach is to record their supposed fact on your phone, establish the facts:

There were two brothers in Bros, Luke and Matt Goss both of whom are still alive. The other member was Craig Logan who is also still alive. No one from Bros has, as yet, died for their sins, not even in a plane crash, or car crash, or something.

And then once their error is fully established play the recording over and over and over, taunting their ignorance in the category of life/death of ex members of extinct 80s pop combos. And for really good measure why not post it on the internet!

I am a total loser, that took me about an hour of my Sunday to get to work! It is working right? (Who's the dick now).

Leah wife of Jacod and mother of 6 of the twelve tribes of Israel, (Jacod was renamed Israel by an Angel) Leah was also Jacob's cousin; Jacob also married Leah’s sister Rachel and had two concubines.

So what? Well Leah is the pornyest name on the internet. Type Leah into google images and if you have the security setting set to ‘anything goes’ you will see a whole page of naked women many of them with engorged penises featuring prominently/messily. This carries on for several pages. (Just a quick tip if you intend to make yourself a tribe don't put it your mouth.)

You can get this effect by typing in any girls name, in fact, any word into google images, such is the ubiquity of spunky love shots on the internet, but Lea