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I wouldn't want him in my band though. He's a bit fat!

This morning I saw a drenched rabid looking pigeon squatting in a puddle, suddenly it took off and sprayed some immaculately done up office lady in pigeon/puddle water. I do hope her day improves as the morning progresses.

Abercrombie & Fitch employee with prosthetic arm mistaken for mannequin and put into storage. Disgruntled employee to sue for £20,000 damages.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/london/8116231.stm

My girlfriend went to a wedding at the weekend. She was telling me about one of the guests and how she managed to entrance most of the men in the place. From her description she was an archetypal Californian girl, straight out of the O.C. This meant: skinny, tall, tanned, blonde, in a tiny slip of a dress, with fake boobs.

Now the girlfriend was sure they were fake and even managed to wheedle a confession out of her the next day. It seems O.C. had them installed when she was just seventeen when it became apparent that nature wasn’t going to produce any for her. They’re old style implants, this was why you could tell they were fakes. The G.F. even managed to cop a feel, she confirmed, you can tell.

O.C. confessed to G.F. that she doesn’t like having fake boobs anymore. Apparently it’s a burden being stared at by men everywhere you go; though not enough of a burden to stop her wearing tiny little dresses to weddings. Now I’m a little sceptical of this tale of woe and prosthetic appendages. I can understand why getting stared at must be difficult, especially if you are insecure in the first place, but surely having the power to hypnotise men into doing your bidding at all times must go some way to making up for it. I suspect it was a conciliatory tack meant to appease the ladies. Women get jealous and nobody likes a cheat.

Regardless of the legitimacy of her appeals for sympathy it is undeniable, from what the G.F. had to say, that the tits were both fascinating and phoney – man mesmerising mock-ups if you will. They were clearly unnatural, but this didn’t stop them being attractive, in fact, to the annoyance of anyone with normal knockers these were knock outs. Jaws dropped, drool was spilled, tongues lolled. These things could lobotomise a man from fifty yards.

This phenomenon reminded me of something I learned about in Uni. Superstimuli, this is a term first used by the Dutch Ornithologist Nikolaas Tinbergen, a Nobel Prize Winner no less. His work involved Herring Gull chicks and their innate response to a stimulus (he didn’t win the N.P. for this work btw). The stimulus was a three dimensional model of an adult Herring Gull’s head with a yellow beak and a red spot on the end. The chicks peck the red spot to prompt the adult bird to regurgitate food for them. Tests in the lab showed beyond doubt that the chicks were attracted to the red spot, but by counting the number of pecks, Tinbergen was able to demonstrate, that a red knitting needle with white bands painted round it elicited a stronger response than a natural, life like, model of a bird’s head, the red and white bands were examples of a super stimuli.

The knitting needle, like the tits, looked nothing like the real thing, but the Herring Gull chicks, like the men at the wedding, had an overwhelming urge to peck at it. Men it transpires are no more sophisticated in their desires than helpless, half blind, infant, seagulls. Most women are well aware of this, but I have proved it. Can I have my Nobel Prize now please.

I spent a few minutes queuing behind a bunch of American tourists earlier today. Each one was taking an age at the counter. It was classic just off the boat behaviour. They were told how much they owed. Cast a glance at a bunch of indecipherable coins, then turned their attention to a roll of twenty pound notes, handed over a twenty in payment for a Kit Kat and received a fistful of change. They then shuffled out of the shop staring at their haul of strange shaped gold and silver, trying to work out how much they’d just spent, and how what that translates to in ‘real’ money.

Clearly they were enjoying the weak pound. “I just spent a dollar on this” one boy exclaimed triumphantly to his friends holding up a litre of Highland Spring bottled water. They just sold you a litre of water for a dollar, I thought to myself. I’d say they came out on top in that deal. Poor lad, like all tourists, he’s in for a nasty surprise, it won’t be long before he discovers that in this country water falls from the sky, often, and in large volumes.

I found this image in the pictures section of an anti BNP facebook page. I love it. The juxtaposition between hate and laughter. The gut reaction to seeing a Swastika is offence, then you realise and it's ridiculous. A bit like Hitler with his trousers down.

I've written another Daily Mash/Two Ronnies style post about Hazel Blears.

Hazel Blears has expressed her deep regret to the Manchester Evening News over her decision to wear a brooch clearly displaying the phrase “Rocking the Boat” while announcing her decision to resign from her position as communities secretary.

“It was a terrible choice of phrase” said Blears “the problem is English has so many maritime sayings. If I’d stuck with ‘shaking things up’ this would all have gone flat by now”

Blears, who recently handed over a cheque for £13,000 for a seat in a New Labour life boat, resigned last week on the eve of the local and European elections. Labour polled badly in the run up to the election and Mrs Blears’ actions have been widely interpreted as an attempt to scuttle the party’s election prospects.

Gordon Brown, who has defied expectations to go down with the ship, has had to deal with a string of resignations from a mutinous cabinet who have abandoned the government like so many rats from a sinking ship. As the last rat into the water Mrs Blears has left herself exposed to a serious broadside from the rank and file party members.

Today an ‘at sea’ Mrs Blears apologised and attempted to bring the discussion about her future back on to dry land. Emphasising her commitment to “grassroots politics” Mrs Blears described her “deep rooted” belief in ordinary people, but the ship may have already sailed for the stranded politician.

Mrs Blears faces the real prospect that she will be set adrift by her constituency later this month when they decide whether or not to reselect her for re-election following a boundary change. Slipping the mooring of her constituency will effectively torpedo any political ambition Hazel Blears has left.

When asked about the future of Hazel Blears and the Labour party Gordon Brown said “She’s washed up”.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk_politics/8096833.stm

If you had a time machine that allowed you to go to any place and any time in history where and when would you choose for maximum LOLZ?

Place – The Sea of Tranquility, The Moon
Date - July 20th 1969

At some stage a couple of Americans will show up in a rocket. You could walk up behind them and tap them on the shoulder, but if American international diplomacy policy extends into outer space they’ll probably shoot you in the face, no questions asked. Instead while you’re waiting for them to show up have a picnic, then make yourself scarce. If you were to be a bit sloppy with the tidy up, say you left an empty can of Coke lying around, you would have some seriously tweaked out astronauts. For maximum LULZ, when they’ve gone, steal the flag.

Place – The Road to Damascus
Date – January 26th AD36

The date might be a bit approximate on this one, but basically what you’re looking for is a chap called Saul. He was a bit of a joy killer who spent his days persecuting early Christians. He was on his way to Damascus to smoke a few out. On the way he was struck down with what was probably temporal lobe epilepsy. The effect of which was to blind him for three days. During this time he heard the voice of God. God asked him why he persecuted Christians and told him to stop it and join up. Paul (he also changed his name) did more than just join up, he pretty much took over, he spent the rest of his life travelling the med setting up churches and sending them letters.

So if you can pull off a suitably booming God voice and managed to find this blind, confused, epileptic anything you decided to tell him would have a profound impact on the future of Christendom. Personally I think Christianity could do with a more 18-30s vibe, so I think I’d instruct Saint Paul to travel round the med as the world’s first holiday rep.

Place - River Pool, Lewisham, south east London
Date – January 3rd 2009

On January the 4th Boris Johnson, Mayor of London, took a leisurely stroll down this river in a pair of waders to pick up litter and promote volunteering. Imagine if someone had used a time machine to travel to the previous day and spent a couple of hours digging a trench across the riverbed. There’d be plenty of LOLZ all round when the floppy haired buffoon fell in.

I nicked the idea for this post from Meg Pickard who used the more imaginative, but less punchy title: ‘Watching the Defectives’ thanks Meg. Here’s a list of tasks/stunts I’m expecting to see on this years Big Brother:

Birth – place a heavily pregnant cow in the garden. The housemates have to deliver the calf. To help them provide them with a James Herriot box set.

The Twits – in an homage to Mr Twits prank on Mrs Twit in which he glued small pieces of wood on the bottom of her cane every night to convince her she was shrinking and then stretched her. Give the house the viewing figures on a daily basis, but lie, show them rising faster and faster until the figures are at record levels. When the housemate’s egos are suitably distended introduce a task with lots of nudity, ministry of silly walks meets Ibiza foam party, have the ratings plummet to record lows and watch the housemate’s egos implode in an orgy of self loathing and body dismorphia.

Porn – wallpaper the walls with hard porn images. Use a special effect to make the walls appear normal on television.

The Racist – every time someone uses the shoe severely reprimand them for racism. The housemates will stop using the word shoe. Wait for one of them to slip up then throw them out to the very audible sound of public outrage, the blood thirsty mob. A couple of days later have burning shoes thrown into the garden.

The Channel – a hatch at the bottom of the pool opens onto a flooded underwater tunnel that, through a series of underwater breathing chambers, leads to a demonstration paddling pool in a nearby B&Q showroom.

Dirty Protest – smear the walls with shit.

Hamsters – infest the house with hundreds and thousands of hamsters. For added effect have the hamsters drop through holes in the ceiling.

Earth Quake – simulate an earth quake in the house. This should open up a mock fissure in the crust of the earth. When the housemates investigate the fissure they discover a secret world inhabited by real dinosaurs.

Holiday – tell all the housemates that due to new European work time regulations they have to be let out of the house for a week’s holiday mid way through the process. They are still bound by the rules of Big Brother and should not watch any television, or they will not be allowed back in. Meanwhile fill the house with a whole new cast of contestants. When the others return, deny they were ever involved and have security remove them from the production offices.

Dope – supply one of the taps in the house with a weak solution of methadone instead of water, if some of the house mates favour this tap over others gradually increase the dosage before cutting off the tap completely.

It is not a bad idea to get in the habit of writing down one's thoughts. It saves one having to bother anyone else with them.

- Isabel Colegate

Firstly behold is the best way to start a blog post, a sentence, a paragraph, a speech, an interview, or an appointment with a nurse in sexual health clinic. Secondly the above quote is the best reason I have come across yet to write a blog.

I’m not writing many posts at the moment because I’m in love, and right now, I’ve found someone so special that they’re willing to listen to all my unadulterated, unedited, ramblings seemingly without tiring. This can’t last, but until the Police find her a place in their witness protection programme I’m going to keep pestering her to the detriment of this website.

Did you know this blog turned four last month? Here is a graph of my output over that period.

P.S. I’m still editing Racial Puree – my far right cooking blog for those of you that are interested. I find it best not to reveal too much too soon in a relationship.

Hooray hooray for today is Euro Election Day. I recently joined the Green party. Joining the Green party is a lot like having a mental ex girlfriend. They send you lots of emails, want to be your friend on Facebook and even call you up when you don’t want to speak to them. They’re pests, but it is all for a good cause, so eventually, mainly out of guilt, I agreed to deliver some leaflets for them.

I’m definitely going to be voting for them. Here’s why:

They want massive investment in renewable energy.
They want Britain released from the disastrous common fisheries policy.
They want to use ‘European Influence’ to tackle offshore Tax Havens (institutionalised corruption)

As a London voter I will be voting in a London wide system of proportional representation, proportional representation favours minority parties like the Green Party because all the Green votes from all over London are counted, however, this system will also favour the BNP, so if The Greens don’t get enough support to retain their seat it could open the door for the racist BNP.

As if I needed any more reasons The Green movement is Europe wide. I know that when my candidate gets to Brussels they will be able to sit with other Greens to promote my views. Other parties, notably the Conservatives may enter coalitions with parties from other countries that have some fairly undesirable viewpoints; I don’t want to indirectly lend my support to them.

One more thing, whoever you choose to vote for the most important thing is that you vote. Today is also the twentieth anniversary of the Tiananmen Square massacre in which thousands of Chinese protesters gave up their lives in a failed attempt to gain this privilege. It would be quite an insult to their sacrifice to just not bother.

An interesting article about Tiananmen.
Green Party Website
Green Party - Euro 2009 - Manifesto