Big n juicy

I've been dreaming of moving from Bignjuicyville this week. Itchy feet n all that. I think I'd like to live somewhere that has more natural beauty than here. It would be very uplifting to look out of the window and see majestic nature, not brick walls. A better climate might help too. On the other hand I love the buzz of being in a city. The sense that you can go out at any time of day or night and find something interesting going on. I also like gritty urban anonymity and the patina of thousands of lives lived out in ordinary surroundings. How to combine all those elements in one?

Squid u like
I felt sorry for the giant squid caught by Japanese scientists this week. The poor thing had to rip off one of it's own tentacles to escape from the bait they had set to catch it for photography. Can squids survive losing a tentacle? Given the sensitivity of the tentacles it must have suffered.

Bum
It's OK to report hideous news events about bombing, mutilation, murder and sexual abuse at any time on radio, tv and the web. It's not OK, though, to play a humourous advert on the radio to try and prevent men from dying from prostate cancer. It's been banned by the 'Radio Advertising Clearance Centre' until after 9pm when of course all the men who would benefit from hearing it are bound to be listening - right?
Stupid arseholes.

Hear the advert.

Bush
Elvis are you out there somewhere
Looking like a happy man?
In the snow with Rosebud
And king of the mountain
Kate Bush's new single - first from the new album Aerial - preview. Listening to it feels like she's never been away.

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 6:49 PM

Bit lost for words today so thought I'd share a beautiful autumnal painting by Monsieur Monet. Clicky for a big one.

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 10:11 PM

[ That speech in full ]
"Yes folks, we bought a load of MDF from MFI. Some two-be-fours and a hundredweight of galvanised flange pins. A large vat of ready mix from Travis-Perkins [ VAT not included ]. We built a New Britain but we haven't finished yet. We spent 50 billion on Filipino nurses and laptops for Mr Timpkins the Teacher to play games on. There's a lovely big plastic wok in Greenwich for Bob Geldof to sing in. [ No one goes there so it's safe ]. Have you noticed how everyone smiles more since I privatised the dental service? eh? eh ? can you hear me at the back?

Y'know it's been tough at times. I was only saying to m'friend George the other day, 'Just when y'think you've secured y'legacy, some idiot starts a war and it all blows up in y'face'. Would y'like summat from the trolley? Have y'seen it?

I have personally taken charge of everything at all times. Later on I'll be serving Lattes and organic NewJamieMuffins in the McWorkers Asylum Cafe out back - do join Cherry and Me for a frothy one - do. Hospitals transformed. A million new treasury tags. More bleepy things for the intensive care units than under the last fifty years of the tories.

And have you seen the gob on our Gordon? Like the firmly smacked bumcheeks of wayward supervixen. The most successful Chancellor since Norman Lamont pretended to exist. Taxes down. Investment up. Living la vida loca.

But we haven't finished yet. Our Work is Not Yet Done. We must reach out to those inner city sheep with no grass. Those toddlers driven to a life of crime by teenage crackhead mothers in burberry caps and fake juicy couture. Education is the key.
More schools. Less teachers. Papa was a rollin stone.

Education has been two of what we did. The third was education. Ruth Kelly has lips of steel. I owe it all to her.

And so to Iraq. I can announce today that Lord Fundbucket has secured for the exclusive use of retired British Prime Ministers, a converted WMD bunker / holiday home in central Baghdad. Cherry n me will be leaving on a jet plane sooner rather than later darlings. It's been real.
Later kids."

Legalities
If anyone can point me at a superstar solicitor - [ ie someone who knows what they are doing and is preferably not a public school boy/girl ] - who can help me kick the ass of an evil grasping troll - please email juice at ze domain name above. Ta.

You know the summer is over when
You get a snivelling cold. [ Achooo ]

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 9:21 PM

When I first visited New York, one of the things that I noticed was the direct way that people speak to one another. Standing in a deli behind an overcaffeinated businessman whilst waiting to be served, I was taken aback at the way he addressed the sandwich hand serving him. No 'please' or 'thankyou', just a stream of, 'Gimme' X , or 'Gimme' Y, 'Gimme' Z, followed by a barely audible acknowledgement after slamming the money on the counter. The server didn't blink. I got the impression that this sort of treatment was normal. Trying to enter the UN complex carrying my lunch in a paper bag proved interesting. A five foot nothing musclebound Helga barked at me before I even stepped over the diplomatic border, 'YOU MUST CHECK THE FOOD' whilst pointing at me aggressively. She'd obviously been briefed on the Al Quaida dodgy looking Irish bloke with exploding sandwich plot. Her desire was for me to deposit my lunch in a nearby UN lunch storage bunker just inside the gate before entering the hallowed portals. And there was me thinking I could eat my Triple Decker Whammy Combo with extra everything whilst sitting in the General Assembly. New Yorkers seem to use the P&T words very sparingly. At least in public situations.

I've noticed more and more that everyday courtesies in the UK are being eroded. When I phone my bank they call me by my first name whilst omitting to tell me theirs. [ I always like to reciprocate intimacy ]. Strangers asking for directions march up and ask directly without so much as an 'excuse me, I'm sorry to bother you but would you mind awfully...'. I was brought up to be polite. I often feel like a freak these days because very few people I encounter in everyday life seem to go to the same lengths as I do not to cause offence. I find it hard not to ask, 'would you like some manners too?' when someone barks a request at me or assumes I am willing to help them without enquiring first if I have the time or inclination. Lately I've caught myself also being direct with people - it's obviously catching.

I sound like an old biddy writing this but I think we lose something when interactions are reduced in quality. 'Manners' evolved for good purpose. They allow us to maintain dignity and to treat people with respect and a generosity of spirit. They protect the more sensitive and vulnerable from the brutal imperatives of economic obsession. Time is money, so spending less time saves money. The only trouble is we are all diminished in the money saving process.

Checkout the Campaign For Courtesy.
"We simply want to draw attention to the value of courtesy. That is, to be able to listen, to smile, and to take time in our dealings with each other"
Not a lot to expect I think. I sincerely hope that you do too. If you don't mind my saying. Thankyou so much for reading today's post. Enjoy the rest of your day / evening / night / morning. Hope to see you again soon.

Extract from Good Manners based on the rules of the Children's National Guild of Courtesy. [Australia]
Click here to download a pdf to display in your office, call centre, kitchen or pub.

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 8:34 PM

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 11:23 PM

..was the phrase used to launch Pritt onto an unsuspecting British public back in 1973. The big innovation was the packaging. Borrowing from the ubiquitous lipstick, Pritt found it's way into pencil cases and desk tidys across the land. It has spawned a large number of imitators and now glue sticks are a standard stationery item. The 'non sticky sticky' phrase is curious isn't it? Seeming to imply that the glue doesn't actually work. Interesting that it is no longer used in the advertising. Henkel, owners of the Pritt brand, have since developed a large product line of adhesives, correction and highlighter pens around it. I've always found Pritt to be less than satisfactory as I seem to invariably end up with lumpy bits on the paper I'm gluing as well as nasty residue on my fingers. I also find that it dries out after a while so anything requiring relative permanency of fixing is best fixed using summat else. Copydex for example ;)

What do you use Pritt for?

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 10:40 PM

After the Copydex years I graduated to PVA [ or Polyvinyl Acetate as it's known in the Trade ]. Discovered by Dr Fritz Klatte in 1912, PVA came into my life when first I discovered the joy of woodwork. My first ever woodwork project was a pencil box made from Jelutong, Hardboard, Panel Pins and lashings of PVA. Mr Jones, our hippy woodwork teacher initiated us into the rituals of PVA. Particularly important was getting a 'good squeeze out' when clamping the hardboard base to the jelutong sides in the vice. Large numbers of soggy wet paper towels were employed to wipe off all the gooey PVA which emerged after frantic vice action from our youthful hands. I quickly noticed the magical qualities of PVA and began to explore it's many applications.

Reassuringly Copydex-like, it soon supplanted the big C in my affections, mainly because it was cheaper. [ I had a tube a week habit in the late seventies ]. PVA is a liquid [ technically an emulsion ] which can be poured. The common form is water soluble so it doesn't form dodgy globules but retains a smooth consistency when drying. By far and away the most wondrous aspect of PVA is it's charecteristic of turning to hard solid plastic once dry.

I quickly discovered that it could be used to emboss designs on all sorts of surfaces. Using a fine nozzle, the design is extruded onto the surface in a manner a bit like icing a cake. It is vital to keep the surface level for the duration of drying [ normally between 2 to 12 hours depending on thickness of PVA layer]. Keeping things level prevents unsightly drips in the finished design. The adhesive dries to a semi translucent plastic but can be coloured. The result is a wax like design attached to the surface of whatever object you've PVA'd. I made many PVA designs but developed a specialism in smiley faces which gave me a certain credibility at the time [ we were easily pleased ].

Most effective was the smiley face I embossed onto the forehead of my sleeping friend whilst on a Geography field trip to West Wales in 1981. Unfortunately, he refused to keep his forehead horizontal for the whole night with the result that in the morning he looked like an extra from a ghastly horror porno flick. Useful data picked up at this time included the knowledge that PVA is not easily removed from the eyebrows.
[ Note to passing youths - don't try this at home - it's not big or clever - or juicy for that matter ].

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 11:02 PM

For me, growing up in the 1970s one of my chief fixations was Copydex. There was something aspirational about the preferred adhesive of Valerie Singleton. Week after week, seeing her use the magic white liquid, [brand name painted out - referred to only as 'adhesive' = middle class for glue], imprinted on my young brain that the acquisition and use of Copydex would signify achievement of a certain level of sophistication. Thus was born the early collage period - wherein teen idols were meticulously trimmed and mounted on sheets of coloured card in a thematic in-bedroom display. Never mind the lumpy stringy bits round the edges - you could pick those off for added pleasure during those long winter evenings. Added enjoyment could be had from painting the glue onto the backs of your hands and leaving it dry. Peeling it off allowed you to assume Vincent Price-like horror as your very flesh appeared to fall away [ a real hit at Halloween ]. The only disadvantage was the immense pain as hundreds of hairs were extracted from your hands at the same time - a sort of elastoplast removal orgy. Copydex has a very distinctive aroma. I understand that it is latex based. However there are strong fishy overtones. This together with it's tendency to coagulate in dubious globules gives it a frisson of something unspeakable which I only now realise may have corrupted my young life. I always knew there was something dirty about Our Val. Millions of teenage boys glued to her every brushstroke. Double sided tape just isn't the same. For one thing; it makes your eyes water.

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 11:59 PM

Space
Have you been watching Space Race? It's not as good as I'd hoped. A bit one dimensional with a lot of dramatic licence paralleling the stories of Wernher Von Braun and Korolev as the chief protagonists [or pawns - depending on your viewpoint]. Enjoyable though and given the recent NASA announcement; more poignant. Interesting that it's a joint production between Russian, American, German and British TV.
Most touching scene so far: Poor little Laika in her pen fatally catching the eye of Korolev looking for the first Cosmodog.

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 11:02 PM

Sir Cliffe is not retiring. He's vowed to keep on singing. At last some good news in a sea of despair. Regular readers will know that I try not to impose my musical tastes on the audience but on this occasion I may make a small exception. Who can forget the masterwork, 'Devil Woman'? The legendary Roller - Skating - Through - Milton - Keynes - Shopping - Centre - Video? Not to mention the millennial classic, 'Our Father'?
I've spent the day buying into the SirCliffian lifestyle. There's the wine, the perfume, ~~the male escort agency~~, the hotel and the inflatable Sue Barker. I'm just now relaxing with a non alcoholic pina colada having slipped into some tennis shorts. 'Miss you nights' is on the Dansette. Bliss. Or should that be Bless?
Late breaking update!
"Cliff Richard and G4 are doing a reworked version
of Cliff's classic: "Miss you nights" for
Christmas. Let's kill ourselves now."
via Popbitch

Coniglio dentellare
Those crazy Italians. Not content with stripping housewives, Prime Ministerial face transplants and a Nazi Pope - they've taken to doing enormous public monuments. Who needs an enormous rusty angel when you can have an enormous pink bunny on a mountainside? I'm thinking it may be a bit soggy after twenty years - and what on earth did they stuff it with?

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 10:09 PM

An expert presentation. Carefully researched, meticulously planned over several weeks. The right balance of information, activity and humour. A gentle and non threatening style. Cleverly designed and structured to appeal to the audience. Using my detailed knowledge of the subject to carefully lead them through and impart the vital information they needed. Not enough it seems. I am interrupted constantly. Ignored. The precious information is discarded even before they've listened to it. I sense that they are, after all, not really interested in what I have to tell them. I feel frustrated, not a little abused, but keep my cool. I persist and gain some respect and grudging attention. But I know the cause is lost. Content with the knowledge my money is already in the bank. 'They can all go to hell'. When you put your soul into something you don't want it thrown back in your face. Walk away from people who are careless with your soul or, at the very least, show them only that which does not matter to you too much. Swine will never appreciate pearls after all. There were a fair few pearls scattered today and not many were recognised for what they were.

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 11:58 PM

Chestnuts roasting by an open fire,
spider crawling up my leg,
wearing woolly pullies,
sweeping leaves up in the yard,
cooking dinner with lots of lard,
bashing conkers in the park,
doing my shopping in the dark,
writing appalling poems,
oooooooh ooohhhhh [to fade]

What's your least favourite aspect of Autumn?
What's your most favourite aspect of Autumn?

Lunar tics
Excited to learn that persons may be landing once more on t'moon. [Note the multi-sexual implications of my language - we'll have no sexism here ]. Please can I go NASA? I have loads of ideas and I'm very good with my hands, I'll bring my own drill. Email to the usual address. Friday's the best day for me.
Meanwhile I note that an underwater moonbase type facility will be constructed by NASA off the Florida coast. "Moon walks will be conducted". No firm evidence yet that the chief trainer has any fondness for chimps. Crotch grabbing may prove difficult in a space suit. Owwwww! The rocket looks like Thunderbird 1 with a Changing Rooms makeover and they have to think of a better name than 'CEV'. 'Saturn V' was a powerful name. Why not 'Thrust 9' or 'Probe 86' or some such? [ Do I need to get out more? ]

Boyo boy
Today's photo is an interior detail of the new Welsh Assembly building on Cardiff Bay designed by the Richard Rogers Partnership. [ He of Millenium Wok fame ]. The bit shown is the cladding around a huge ventilation thingy rising from the debating chamber. It is, apparently, designed to hoover up vast quantities of hot air from the chamber and expel it from the roof. There is, of course, an assumption that such an extraction facility will be neccesitated by honourable members emissions. I couldn't possibly comment but don't let that stop you.

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 8:14 PM

..drD rested. For he was in need of a bit of R&R after a heavy weekend.
Meanwhile, any suggestions for Autumnal topics you'd like investigated?
More Monday.

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 9:11 PM

The autumnal shift in the weather - brilliant sunshine but definite jumper requirement today - brings an awareness of the finite nature of things. Saw the Stephen Hawking thing the other day. They talked about his 30 year defence of 'The Information Paradox' and how physics has been wed to the notion that information is never destroyed. Hawking had maintained that it is. If information is destroyed then our understanding of past and future is fundamentally changed. To some extent we cannot be certain of anything, only the present. This rather appeals to me and somehow feels more like how things are then the replicable certainty that western science craves. Hawking has now sidestepped the controversy by rejigging his position to include the idea that there are many universes. I'm struck by how the only constant in my existence is change and how our western world has evolved to create this state of flux. Can we assume that it's better for us to live this way than in the slow moving cultures of the past which our ancestors knew?

Photies
The picture above right is from joe's nyc. This excellent photoblog is worth bookmarking for a rainy day when you need to escape to the big apple for a while. The archives have many stunning images.

I'm not lovin' it
This is a bit rude. But true. Don't look if saggy old bum holes are not your thang.

Hole
Butt Hole Road, Yorkshire.

Freebie
Further to my piece about the new look Guardian, I notice that they are offering free access to their digital edition of the paper until 26th September. You can read the pages exactly as they are laid out in the physical paper and download pdfs of any pages you want to keep. It's cool.

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 9:01 PM

Living in one of the underprivileged parts of the UK where terrestrial digital TV has yet to permeate I am prevented from accessing all manner of Ulrika Johnson related programmes, obscure upncoming presenters and low budget quizzical ephemera. A blessing you might say. That's not the point though - I'm being deprived. Friends casually suggest I acquire a Freeview box to plug into my ancient telly. The only problem is that our local transmitter is made of Pedigree Chum tins and is powered by dog farts. Consequently even the analogue signal is total crap. E.g just as it got to the good bit in Spooks last week a chihuahua failed to guff at the key moment. Power dropped, a snowstorm filled the screen and I was left not knowing if Martine McCutcheon's pouting would save the day. Most unsatisfactory Captain Mainwairing.

The last word I had on when the transmitter would be upgraded was, 'probably 2012'. It's all a conspiracy to force us to pay for cable. Coincidentally, the local cable company also own the clapped out Chum tins. Strange that. Now I learn that, following the recent announcement of a BBC/ITV plan to launch 'Freesat' digital satellite for folk such as I a 'free' satellite service has been available from Baron Murdoch of Bali for some considerable time. For £150 you get the lot. No monthly fee. [ US citizenship not included ]. I've never seen this advertised. Anything to do with trying to sell you their pay channels I wonder? Now I have to decide if I want digital so much that I'm prepared to: a. Give money to The Evil One and b. Have an ugly dish glued to my house. I'll admit it, I'm a dish snob. Such a shame Alessi don't bring out a designer version.

Stunning
Roll up roll up get your stun guns and leg irons here. Unbloodybelievable.

Blog off
All new Google blogsearch has completely ignored me. By virtue of the fact that I do not produce a feed. [ I have enough trouble producing a blog yet alone catering to the masses - who do you think I am Jamie Oliver? ]. I've always been underappreciated, underlinked and undercommented. Now I'm unrecognised. Am I bovvered? [ Just a tad but nothing a weekend of rampant sex wouldn't put right ].

Blog off 2
Links have been updated. Some have fallen by the wayside but remain for now as testament to their former greatness. Marky has apparently self-combusted - which is worrying. Welcome to my feline friend & ta.

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 12:19 PM

..owing to the fact that I was up half the night. Don't ask or I may have to tell you the whole sorry tale. Had to tart myself up for a 9am meet. Went for the, 'too cool to wear a tie' look and ended up looking scruffy. Everyone else was decidedly old school tie. Frankly m'dear I didn't give a damn. I almost fell asleep. It was only the phosphoric acid laced 'coffee' that kept me going. I've achieved about one tenth of what I'd planned to do today. Just can't seem to focus. Sleep deprivation is a terrible thang. ZZZZZZZZ.

What fuel protest?
Apparently, the country is going to come to a standstill because 'The Management' - ie a load of lorry drivers - have decided that fuel is too expensive and the fabric of the nation [ not to mention their bank balances ] may disintegrate. Gordon Brown is the target of their anger. Gordon is creaming off billions in fuel tax to pay for stuff like roads, lorries, greasy fry ups, union jacks, in-cab TVs, impaled teddy bears and cardiac care units for people who eat too many greasy fry ups. Current news reports indicate that the fuel protest has got off to a 'quiet start'. Only two lorry drivers turned up and even they were looking for the Super Sausage Snacketeria and Lardmart but wandered into a fuel depot canteen by mistake. My own view is that it's probably best not to organise a fuel protest when the sun is blazing in the sky, people are kicking back and having greasy fry ups in their own back yards and Engerland have just won the leftovers at cricket. [ Gawd Bless you maamm ]. Must go now because I need to fill up the car with petrol before the world ends.

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 7:00 PM

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 12:01 AM


Old: pre1998	New: 1988	Newer: 2005

As a non stereotypical left wing, vegetarian, liberal minded, environmentally aware citizen, the choice of one's daily newspaper is oh so difficult.

There was the early flirtation with The Times - inspired by my geography teacher who urged us all to read a 'quality paper'. However, it never felt quite right to me - not enough angst for starters and of course when Rupert took over amid the rabid right wing atmosphere of the eighties, that was me finished with the thunderer. I've never bought it since and never will again. Unless of course it gets taken over by a pacifist collective dedicated to advancing the cause of world peace. Remember, Dennis Potter named his tumour 'Rupert' -think on.

Almost inevitably, as you may suspect, my organ of choice is The Guardian. The demographicists among you can draw your own conclusions - I don't mind. We Guardianistas know we are right. In 1988 the paper transmogrified itself from a dull, traditional broadsheet into a design lead hip n happening paper. With hindsight they did a NewLabour - transforming the image to appeal to a changed world, whilst tweaking the content ever so slightly. In the year when Tony Blair entered the shadow cabinet for the first time, The Guardian lead the way in becoming a contemporary quality newspaper. The Pentagram redesign inspired much imitation but, in my view was never bettered. I've grown to love the GaramondHelvetica masthead and am a little saddened to see it changed. The new Guardian masthead and typeface is based on Guardian Egyptian - a typeface specially designed by Barnes and Schwartz to combine historical references with European and American typographical excellence. The clean, open structure of the letterforms make for readability - especially online - and convey a warmth [ long a distinctive Guardian quality ] in the presentation. The new masthead, with it's all lower case letters is, I think a missed opportunity and is not as strong as the Hillman design of 1988.

The biggest change to the paper, however, is it's physical size. Neither tabloid or broadsheet and like Charles Kennedy's fringe, it's somwhere in the middle. The 'Berliner' format will give the paper a distinctive presence and appeal to spatially challenged commuters jammed into the 8.15 enroute to a day of corporate conformity. The new type, masthead, smaller format and especially the full colour capability reflect the growing 'digital decrease'. Everything is shrinking, not least The Guardian's daily circulation. Will this new look do the trick? I rarely buy the paper these days. Today, of course, will be an exception -as was Saturday's final broadsheet. Most of my Guardian reading is done online. They have a world beating website, it's free and you can skip around the stories hyperlinkfully like nobody's business. We're heading, certainly in industrial societies, for a situation where a majority of daily journalism will be accessed online. The demise of daily printed papers is a long way off but I think it'll be a market of increasing minority, as digital technology delivers more and more comfortable forms of access. The new Guardian is a sparklingly modern product and is firmly of today - this is what we want. Like the new shoes though, it'll take a bit of wearing in before I grow to love it.

Lankige

Guardian relaunch special report.

Newsaper marketing agency - featuring some memorable front pages of the past.

A weblog about newspaper design etc.

How they did it. Blogging the first day of the historic new format Guardian.

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 12:01 AM

Monday : Buy the newly redesigned Guardian.

Tuesday: Celebrate the fourth anniversary of the election of the Quiet Man. Shhhh - you know who.

Wednesday: Watch Space Race.

Thursday: Let's hear it for Mattisse.

Friday: Organic vanilla ice cream drizzled with Limoncello.

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 7:59 PM

This weekend it's 'Heritage Weekend' in Bignjuicyville. It's the time of year when all sorts of weird and wonderful places, usually inaccessible to the public, are opened up to all and sundry to gawk at. This does not include, I hasten to add, my private undergarment environs. The town today was full of old people wandering around looking at old buildings and getting on and off old buses. It seemed that half of the national collection of restored Routemasters were in town - and very handsome they looked too. I may try and get some photos of same tomorrow if it stops raining long enough.
By some mystery of fate, I found myself caught up in a bizarre scenario earlier that involved me getting dressed up in a first world war officers uniform and stomping around the place having my photo taken. It was all a bit too much but I learnt something very interesting: Women go all funny when a man in uniform is in the vicinity. Nearly every female I encountered went all gooey and engaged me in flirtatious conversation. Quite remarkable and something I've never experienced before on such a scale. My considered advice, based on this experience, to gentlemen wishing to succeed with the ladees is to, 'get yourself a uniform mate'. The military look seemed to do the trick but I reckon anything with connotations of raw masculine power would do just as well. Best to avoid the traffic warden and nurses outfit then. Though I'm sure these would work for other 'target groups'. As would that construction worker ensemble you've been keeping for a special occasion. I'd suggest that only the very daring should attempt anything involving leather, as this may have unexpected effects. Red Indian outfits are best worn by Red Indians. I wonder what it is about military uniforms that 'does it'? I feel as though I've stumbled into a whole new area - so to speak. And I mean that in a wholly wholesome way - not at all kinky. No, definitely not.

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 11:30 PM

It's Hovertastic™

Exciting news about your PotatoCard!™
September 2005

Greetings Dear drD!

We want you to be one of the first to know that from tonight, we'll be adding some extra benefits to your PotatoCard™!

They'll help you get even more out of your money and give you a new way of managing your spending!

First off though, we need to tell you that this means that we're changing the terms and conditions of your PotatoCard™!

But, what's more interesting is finding out just what we're so excited about!

One of the most important changes is that you can have a positive balance in your PotatoCard™ account and you'll earn interest on it!

Here are some of the benefits you can now enjoy:

PotatoPoints™™ on every pound spent.

Pay no interest on cash withdrawals and purchases.

A night out with a sexworker of your choice.

Free dental care for your cat.

A complimentary MaxPax© drink at PotatoBank™™™ branches.

A funky colourful PotatoCard™ sticker for your car.

So why wait drD? Treat yourself to that special item!
Charge it to PotatoCard™ and let us take the strain!
Remember we love you and want to have your babies!!!

With warmest regards

Head of Excitement, Potato

Important information
This e-mail is confidential and for use by the addressee only. If you are not the intended recipient of this e-mail and have received it in error, don't call us. Internet e-mails are not necessarily secure. The Potato group of companies do not accept responsibility for anything at any time.
Whilst all reasonable care has been taken to avoid the transmission of viruses, it is the responsibility of the recipient to ensure that they are not affected by Potato blight. Like we said, no responsibility is accepted by The Potato group of companies for anything, ever, got that? You're on your own.

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 12:37 PM

I'm a bit zen when it comes to living things. I've been known to arrive late having taken half an hour to rescue a spider, reluctant to be caught, from drowning in my bath. Generally speaking, I try to avoid killing things. It doesn't sit easy with me. This extends to accidental incidents too. I still have flashbacks to the Tasmanian Possum Collision Experience which didn't end well. Earlier today I happened to find a report of the fact that Tasmania has remarkably high levels of roadkill. It's a marvellous natural environment but this, tempered by my memories of the place and years of campaigning by environmental groups is evidence of the pressure it's under from human occupation. The sad images of the last Tasmanian Tiger from 1936 are symbolic of this. One of the small everyday joys I have is to see little creatures going about their business around and about where I live. The spider I photographed a while back has had a good summer hanging out on my patio. He's grown to about twice the size he was then on a diet of local flies. He's a pretty scary sight now and very handsomely marked. One of his relatives has moved into my living room and likes to scuttle across the floor at all hours of the day and night before diving under the skirting board where I suspect he has some sort of spidery loveshack. Thankfully spiders and creepy crawlies don't bother me, even indoors. We're all, in the end, just trying to get somewhere and go on living according to our respective natures.
Something in my nature, though lead me to vacuum up about 20 tiny fruit flies yesterday. For the last couple of weeks a gang of these flies have been hovering around any piece of fruit I have in the house. Individually they are cute, being tiny and 'harmless'. However their numbers seemed to be increasing - despite me keeping all the fruit in the fridge. I decided on luring them into a dish of overripe greengages and then trapping them for release outside. [Mr Eco friendly]. This worked to the extent that I got rid of about half their number. The intelligent ones, though, hid behind the boiler emerging later to dance mesmerised around the ripening pear I'd left out. When I picked it up yesterday a cloud of the little buggers flew into my face. I snapped and reached for the Dyson. And now I feel really bad. Their little souls en route to fruit salad heaven and it's my fault. Something bad may happen now.

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 10:17 PM

Life in adworld

Cats are always fed by women.

All people are heterosexual.

All vicars look like twits.

Married women are *nearly* sexy.

Dogs in adverts never sniff your crotch.

Andie McDowell never ages.

Carol Vordeman knows everything.

24 more where these came from.

One to try
Tristan dropped by earlier so I thought I would repay the compliment. Very enjoyable it was too - great photographs and an interesting read. Recommended.

Are you being exploited?
If you do one of those jobs where you get paid monthly and you do loads of extra hours beyond the usual eight hour day. This makes quite interesting reading - showing, among other things, what your hourly rate is. I know people who have quite good salaries but given the number of hours they work they are heading into minimum wage territory. There was a time I was doing that... not any more dear Nelly. I now know my worth and having a life is quite nice too.

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 9:03 PM

Just a little number to nip to Morrisons in.

Goldfingahhhhhhh. He's the man, the man with the midas touch. A spiders touch, such a cold finger, Beckons you to enter his web of sin, But don't go in.

Good advice indeed from our Shirley. If confronted by a man with an unfeasibly cold finger don't assume the bleedin obvious. He's not just walked out of a walk in freezer having stuck his finger in a Sarah Lee indvidual frozen fruit frappé. No, he's more likely to be a megalomaniacal madman intent on irradiating the world's stockpile of gold with a crude but effective nuclear device. Remember, he loves only gold. Also, if you happen to be shopping for evostik at the same time, on no account go to aisle J with him.

Balance
I wonder if there will be saturation media coverage the next time thousands are killed and lose their homes when Bangladesh floods - as surely it will? Just a thought.

Bloody hell
Ever wondered why crocodiles never get embarrassing personal rashes despite living in dubious tropical soup? Apparently their blood kills all known germs dead. I suspect that for every disease or illness that affects mankind there is a cure already in existence somewhere in the natural world. If only we weren't so busy destroying it.

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 10:18 PM

So, DIY svengalis B&Q are losing money and will be cutting a third of their HQ staff. Their profits have dropped over 15% so it's time to repay the loyal workforce and sack them. Interesting that rival firms have not been so affected in the profit department. Personally speaking, I try to avoid shopping at B&Q. Not only is it a life sapping experience - trying to locate things in the vast overheated tin sheds. It is also exceedingly expensive with most items costing far more than they can be obtained for with a bit of shopping around. Their marketing strategy seems to be to create massive stores that act as magnets - sucking customers away from all local rivals [ meanwhile causing major traffic jams, increased pollution and respiratory inflamation to local dogs]. Once in the store you're deliberately lead on a goose chase to find what you are looking for. Few of the signs over the aisles bear any relationship to what is actually in the aisle. As a consequence you end up getting lost and distracted. Eventually, disorientated, dehydrated and bearded you emerge exhausted clutching a patio heater even though you'd only gone in for tube of evostik to get you through the weekend.

They employ two people [only ever two] to walk the endless aisles seeking out customers who have fallen and died whilst trying to locate the exit [ or the evostik aisle ]. This same hapless pair are issued with instructions to direct all enquiries to aisle J. DO NOT GO TO AISLE J. Aisle J is a dead end. Lining it's walls are huge cabinets of transparent drawers - about 300000 in total. Each contains the remains of previous customers who ended up in aisle J and were trapped by the Black and Decker forcefield at it's entrance. These remains have been moulded into UPVC hinges, alloy flanges, silicone minges and all sorts sponge based haberdashery to give the outward appearance of normality and convince passing DIY inspectors from the local authority that all is well. You can go to aisle J any time you like but you can never leave - so remember, DO NOT GO TO AISLE J.

Ian Cheshire is the new B&Q ~~Hatchet Man~~ Chief Executive. He will, no doubt, be getting a massive bonus when he has ~~sacked everyone~~ completed the restructuring. Anyone named after a cheese should instantly arouse suspicions in the workforce. Look what happened when Wolfgang Gorgonzola took over at Amalgamated Biscuit Tins back in 93.
Remember what Antoine de Boursin did to the hapless employees at Bunsen Burners International? And I need hardly detail the catastrophe that befell the workers of British Cheeseboards Ltd when Colin Wensleydale got his feet in the stirrups. I blame Carol Smilie.

Cheese links
cheese.com
World Famous Cheese Recipes
Museum of Cheese
The history of Cheese

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 7:10 PM

Readers letters
Gavin Parker writes:
"Having reviewed your website I feel the content would be of interest to my visitors and I am impressed by the design and layout of your site.
As I am sure you are aware reciprocal linking between wesites of the same theme helps the Google Page Rank of boh link partners sites, thus improving general search engine rankings without incurring any advertising cost."
Gavin is the 'Links Manager' for this lot. Close inspection reveals little thematic consonance with my esteemed organ. I therefore pose the question: would you buy insurance from this man? I think not.

New Orleans
Even Google maps has added a special red button.

Guess who's back?
Sensiti's back in the frame!

Can flies be exquisite?
I think so after seeing these - excellent.

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 10:50 AM

been a tad busy...sorry for interruption to service.

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 11:59 PM

Ugly?
Q: What do Tesco Extra in Dumfries, The Scottish Parliament and HRH Prince Tampon have in common?
A: They're all associated with carbuncles [ though I concede that this is no way to talk about our future queen ].
The scheme is actually a jolly good Scottish idea which we should nick for sassenach use. My first nomination will be the entire English national housing stock built since 1970. My second nomination will be Slough.
Any other suggestions?

Something for the weekend?
How about a Danish lesbian Animal Rights Activist? [ I wonder where they put the barcode? ]

Dr Wank
Poor unfortunate - pity his arrival at British customs.

Three weeks on the wagon
.. are now officially at an end. Having taken up the Chaffinch Challenge on 7th August I have 'enjoyed' 3 alcohol free weeks. Unfortunately this time has coincided with some postural problemos [see below] and I've not been feeling my best. I've not missed booze terribly during that time. Apart from the thirst quenching effects of cold beer - admirably substituted by Becks non alcoholic [ Surprisingly OK ]. So I suppose that's a success. I'm inclined to stay on the wagon as part of a new healthier moi - at least during the week anyway.

The Chaffinch himself, meanwhile, after a month, appears to be planning a spot of avian alcoholic abandon. Look out for low flying feathers in northern parts.

freshly squeezed for you by drD at 10:46 PM