A while back I wrote about the CERN Large Hadron Collider and my theory that turning it on, or some future experiment like this, created by man, or some future intelligent species, will create a black hole, or reverse time, or make a new big bang, new universe, or something (the theory needs a bit of polishing) and that this is the part that life plays in the merry go round of the cosmos.

LINK to prior post

A theory I have since dubbed Ecological Determinism. Well I’m not the only wacko thinking like this, except these guys want to stop it from happening. Botanist sues to stop CERN hurling Earth into parallel universe. These guys clearly don't share my deterministic view and believe that our role as world exploders/universe creators is optional. They’re trying to sue the US government to force them to act by stopping the turn on going ahead until another safety review is carried out, ludites, you can’t stop destiny.

(via boingboing)

A while back I made a throw away comment that I was an expert wanker, or more accurately that I had spent over ten thousand hours wanking (past post). I retracted the statement asserting that it would take years to achieve this feat, but just wanking furiously for years on end wouldn’t make you the complete tosser. No for that you need technique, so this website, Hand Job Advice, could be the missing piece in the jizzsaw. The site is safe for work, it has no naughty bits in it, as long as your boss doesn’t mind you watching a young lady stroking a dildo glued to a table in your lunch break.

I hadn’t even heard of The Doorknob, or Milking The Bull, let alone Ping Pong and it hadn’t even occurred to me to “Stare at it like you can’t believe how big it is and giggle.”

(Via B3ta)

Guns are great for slow motion films and hot chicks, I mean really hot hicks, but really, really bad for DIY:

Patsy Long, 34, of Deepwater, died after being shot in the chest with a .22-caliber handgun on Saturday. Her husband, Ronald Long, fired the shot from the inside of their home after several unsuccessful efforts to punch a hole through the exterior wall using other means.

LINK (via BoingBoing)

I love the idea of Flashmobs and if I hadn't found out about the world's largest pillow fight just ten minutes before it kicked off last week I would have turned up. This was probably a lucky escape as from the look of the pictures allot of people chose to use the tradtional feather pillow, good for the flying feathers asthetic, but bad for dust allergy sufferes. I would have been a red-eyed, snot dribbling, mess in minutes and then probably ended up in a St. john's ambulance having an Asthma attack. So maybe this is more for me - Rickmob

For those of you who don't know about Rickrolling you probably haven't been sent a link for a "really awesome video" or maybe a link to "hot hot hot chicks" or perhaps "fuzzy lovely meep pix" or even just "you've been Rickrolled". So now you either know what being Rickrolled is, or your are totaly immune to link-bait.

So anyone up for turning up at Liverpool Street Station in three weeks and pretending to be Rick Astley? Should be interesting.

The deep gives the world another mystery - male Giant Squid bodies discovered with sperm packets injected into their bodies.

The line that the scientists are going with right now is that the reproductive mechanism of the giant squid is for the male to inject sperm packets into the female using his giant 'fire hose' penis; the explanation for the males mainlining sperm is that this was either an accident during rough sex - human equivalent, oops wrong hole - or that two confused young males have bumped into each other in the gloom and accidently fumbled with each other's fire hoses - human equivalent, boarding school.

There is a story that you’ve probably seen because it’s been all over the net, it’s about the German lady that went to hospital to have a knee operation, but ended up having a prosthetic anus fitted. Wow, I thought. Can that be true? I mean mistakes happen, but do prosthetic arse holes even exist? I thought maybe it might look a bit like this:

In today's Times there is an article about Austrian prisons that have been setting up their own call centres and staffing them with inmates. The call centres are profitable, but the controversy comes from them being staffed by 'convicted fraudsters'.

LINK to article.

The thing I find odd about the article is this quote from Thomas Geiblinger, a spokesman for the Austrian Justice Ministry:

“We need other employment opportunities for inmates apart from joinery and locksmithing. The call-centre alternative has proven to be a success."

Yes, apparently in Austria the traditional jobs for prisoners are locksmithing and joinery. Locksmithing, is this a suitable job for someone who is locked up? Well locks play a big role in their life so they'd be naturally curious; traditionally it would be playing on the strengths of the inmates, but nowadays with the demise of the safe cracker and the rise of the computer hacker call centres do seem a natural progression. The three golden rules of call centre work - take as much cash as you can, always use an alias and deny everything - are second nature to the criminal mind. Are we missing a trick here Gordon Brown?

I gave the blog a bit of a redesign today, take a look at the top and you will see it now has a header picture created by the author in MS Paint, the only graphics package I have even the faintest grasp of.

I decided to play up the URL for the blog, which is mgfgtg.blog.co.uk. This was originally the initials of the name of the blog when it was called ‘My GirlFriend’s Gone To Greece’. (For some reason I split the word girlfriend into two words and gave ‘To’ more status than it gets in a standard acronym.) I started the blog the day after my girlfriend went to Greece, we split up about five months later, the blog is three years old in May (still single btw).

It’s had numerous names since then – Wanking With The Sound Off - was probably my favourite. I was asked to change that one as it was a bit too, not safe for work. I don't think I like the current and I’m toying with the idea of just calling it ‘Monkey-Golf Fat-God Tiny-Goat’, but that might be too much change for one day.

Happy Easter everyone.

A link to a picture exploring the author’s relationship with religion.

Today is world equality day - it's the Vernal Equinox! Twelve hours sunlight twelve hours darkness, wheather your on the North Pole, the South Pole, or the Equator we all get the same number of hours of precious sunbeams (not accounting for cloud cover of course). If you currently reside in the Southern hemisphere then condolences, but it is one of the planet's greatest inequalities that 12% of the planet's population enjoy a full 50% of the sunlight and you should be ashamed of yourselves. If like me, and most of the people on the planet, you live in the Northern hemisphere then, tomorrow we get our Sun back, let the good times roll. For the next six months the big, shiny, on fire, ball in the sky is in our court! (If you are an animal with a relatively short gestation period now would be a good time to have sex.)

World Sunlight Map - 20 March 2008

Vernal Equinox Explained

I just thought wow when I saw this.

From BoingBoing via Wooster Collective.

The bus I got home from school as a child was usually half empty. I lived in a boring little white suburb, the bus only came close to my house because it was en route to the local mental hospital. This did mean that we got the odd day release patient jabbering to themselves, or on a good day imitating farm yard animals, but in comparison to your average London bus it was all rather tame. Lunatics and the criminally insane are the bread and butter of the red double decker and since the invention of the hands free mobile phone there are more people jabbering away to themselves incoherently than people having normal two sided conversations.

The ethnic diversity on a South London bus is quite staggering. I've no idea how many languages I hear on a daily basis, but there has been more than one occasion when I've been sat in front of two people jabbering away assuming that they are involved in a conversation with one another, only realising when one of them gets off the bus while the other one carries on talking that they were having separate conversations, with seperate people, in two different languages, quite possibly with people on two separate continents.

They are not the quickest form of transport in London, that prize goes without contest to the bicycle. London buses, on average, travel slower than most people can run, which is quick for London, and besides you can't run everywhere, so it's testament to the skill of the drivers that they still manage to produce granny killing levels of G force, regularly breaking and accelerating with such ferocity that anyone caught standing on the stairs or top deck is catapulted straight to casulty. In fact at the bottom of the stairs next to the seat reserved for those 'less able to stand than you' (i.e. drunk people) there is a special seat reserved for no-win no-fee personal injury lawyers.

It is this quirk of physics that creates my favourite thing about London Buses, you always get a seat. It should be a bucket seat with helmet and safety harness, but if you're happy to ride bareback then a seat you will have. Once the top deck is full the driver generally drives straight past anyone hailing them much to the annoyance of the resident lawyer - overfull buses and broken hips are what his dreams are made of.

And this is where I choose to spend at least an hour of every one of my working days. Happily reading a book, or a newspaper, as near to the front I can get. With the disjointed tinny beats of the best of South London's Grime scene providing the soundtrack via the speakers of some little scrotes pay-as-you-go mobile phone. Sat next to a rasta, or an Imam, or a Polish plumber. On a bus, in a traffic jam, with people talking to themselves.

Hello all. On a recent trip to the Alps to enjoy their excellent skiing I and several of my friends, after sampling the Vin Rouge, invented a game called Play Your Porno Cards Right. The game is based on, and named after, the Bruce Forsyth game show Play Your Cards Right, so the first thing you’ll need to play is someone who can attempt an impression of the great man. (Don’t forget the three elements, the walk, the talk and the chin).

To play the game you need:

at least five empty wine bottles, preferably previously consumed by the contestants, and a pack of playing cards displaying images of a pornographic nature. (Porno playing cards).

Empty the wine bottles, but retain the corks. Replace the corks in the mouths of the bottles leaving half the cork protruding. Make a slit in the protruding cork. Into each slit the dealer should insert a playing card in the upright position with the picture facing away from the contestants. The dealer should then turn the first bottle so that the card faces the audience and announce the value of the card using his or her best impression of Bruce Forsyth.

The value of the card is calculated using this formula:

Spunk shot 1 point for each cock.
Oral sex 2 points
Straight sex 3 points
Anal sex 4 points

N.B. if more than one of the above sex acts occurs on the card then the cards value is an accumulation of the points awarded for each act.

The audience member must then declare if they think the next card will be of a higher or lower value. If the player guesses correctly or a draw occurs they then the player is premitted to geuss higher or lower again and the next bottle is turned round, if they guess incorrectly they're out. The winner is the first player to turn round all five bottles!

To be honest the game has limited playability, luckily while the novelty wore off we noticed that a girl on one of the cards seems to be trying to do an impression of Sinead O'connor and her famous tear from the Nothing Compares 2 U video though she clearly couldn't cry on cue as they appeared to have used shampoo for the tear, ouch I bet that stings!

This story is so funny, the Sheriff his surname is Whipple - Mr Whipple. Hello Mr Whipple would you like a tipple, oh you would, well you can drink it from my nipple - Ha ha ha ha.

Oh and a woman sat on a toilet for two years. Yer that too.

I love this story on the BBC about the clever dolphin saving the beached Pygmy Sperm Whales in New Zealand. It reminds me of a time I saw a dolphin show at a massive aquarium in Okinawa Japan. They had four or five dolphins in the tank that did the most incredible tricks and they also had this False Killer Whale. A great big, long, black thing, which could basically do nothing.

The problem was that with all the excitement of the show going on the False Killer Whale wouldn't stay away from the action and would get in the way of all the stunts, so while a couple of keepers gave commands to the dolphins, who turned summersaults, kicked balls, jumped through hoops, all the usual clever stuff, one keeper's entire job was to stand in the corner of the pool and feed fish after fish to this whale just to keep him out of the way.

The whale did have one trick, towards the end of the show, it hauled itself up on to the side of the pool and got a round of polite applause, that's it. I remember at the time saying to my then girlfriend, "so that's all the whale can do, beach itself, what a dunce".

Related, Walrus does the Thriller dance:

John Snow - and when we come back we will be looking at new research which has shown that cannabis compounds may help with memory loss.

Cannabis helping with memory loss. How long did it take you to work that out! You don't need to spend much time with a stoner:

Stoner - have you seen the lighter?

Me - no, you had it you're the stoner

Stoner - err, yer . . . . . . like I'm sure it was . . . . . . . . like somewhere . . . . . . . what was I doing?

Me - you're looking for your lighter.

Stoner - Oh yer . . . . . have you seen the lighter?

Me - is that it in your hand.

Stoner - oh God that is sooo funny, I'm sooo stoned . . . . . . have you seen the rizla?

They were referring to this - Alzheimer's sufferers may benefit from cannabis compound