Archive for June, 2003

Random mumblings – as I do

Monday, June 30th, 2003

This little fella came to see me today – what a charming little chap.

Resplendent and handsome. A welcome visitor to my garden. I love it when nature coordinates with my web site.

Boozy bollocks?

I read somewhere recently that alcohol supresses testosterone production.

This is worrying news and could account for my increasing niceness.

I’m off now to buy a few beers.

Hit me baby

Strange – record number of hits yesterday – on a Sunday too – what can this mean?

Also been getting some very interesting search hits but you don’t want to know about them do you now?

I’m so unworthy

Top on my list of things to do this year is a visit to Clarence House which is currently nearing completion of a multi million pound refurbishment in preparation for the arrival of the Prince of Wales, Mistress and sons. The refurbishment has been funded to the tune of £1.928 million by virtue of grant aid from the Department for Culture, Media and Sport. This equates to about 6p for every UK tax payer.

How grateful I am to learn that it will only cost me a further £5 for the privilege of seeing the square millimetre I have paid for through taxation – joy indeed.


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Sunday, June 29th, 2003


“Cousin Betty lived on a farm, died her hair black and wore a black bra under a lemon yellow twinset. Her bussom was enormous and encased in an industrial strength brassiere – everything pointed outwards and in total control. She clattered around the farmyard in black stillettos, calfs clenched.”

Harriet goes all darling buds

“Learn to knit, and make a hat.

Think of chaos as dancing raspberries,

imagine grief as the outbreath of beauty or the gesture of fish. “

er right – these nekkid people are getting GM groovy

The comments sometimes work if you reload the page – sigh


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Bring back the Wombles – at least they they were cute

Saturday, June 28th, 2003

There are at least two topics you’re unlikely to find on here much at present. One is a certain TV prog involving hidden cameras the other is a certain TV prog involving hidden cameras, tennis balls and lots of green things. Both TV progs induce feelings of near death when I happen to stumble on them. I feel my life force ebbing away and my brain taking on the consistency of a soft poached egg. [ how disgusting an image is that? ] Only a certain televised game involving hidden cameras, coloured balls and lots of spotty young men holds less viewer appeal for me than the aforementioned gruesome twosome. Truly I will know I have gone gaga when I find myself watching any of these with a modicum of interest. So it was with immense pleasure that I read the brilliant ‘Jim Shelley’s world of sport’ in today’s Guardian Guide. I’ve tried to find a web link for this but failed so I’m reduced to typing sections of it for your edification.

“Tennis as a sport is bad/boring enough, but there’s also the BBC’s coverage of Wimbledon as a whole – smothered in that cloying middle-class/middle England/middle-of-the-afternoon-on-a-sunny-day smugness.”

“Here are the…worst.”

“The bits where it rains and the Beeb produces one of it’s trademark soppy montages featuring music by Coldplay or Bobby Gentry and old clips of Cliff Richard ‘entertaining’/punishing the crowd by singing”

“The bit where the Duke and Duchess of Kent (write your own Cockney rhyming slang) greet the ball boys. ‘A wonderful moment,’ John Barrett will purr.”

“the excruciatingly earnest ‘Rain Stopped Play’ discussions led by Sue Barker. For example a)why aren’t there any good young British players coming through? (Answer: because it’s always raining and schoolkids realise tennis is naff.)…c)Why, apart from the superhuman Williams sisters, don’t black people play tennis? (Answer: because they are too cool.)”

“Patronising filler items about The Man Who Trains/Flogs The Ballboys. The People Who Rent Out Their Houses To The Players..and finally, The Exhorbitant Price of Strawberries This Year”

“Mostly though Wimbledon is intolerable because of ‘Henman mania’/’Henman Hill’/Henman in general. If ever there was a British sportsman to make you despair of being British, it’s Henman: Nice Guy, Nearly Man and Tosser extaordinaire…Take Cliff Richard and cross him with Tony Blair and you get Tim Henman.”

Time to take my medication I think.

BnJ scoops the Beeb & The Guardian

Juice power wins out as the BBC report an ‘original joke’ about Intel’s new processor – codenamed ‘Prescott’.

Regular readers may recall a jetable du mien back in February.

I rest my case.

[ It’s v. heavy – I’ve just packed it with breeze blocks ]


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Methinks they doth protest too much

Thursday, June 26th, 2003

You know they’re on the ropes when Alistair Campbell – ‘the man who never gives interviews’ – storms unannounced and uninvited into Channel 4 news and ‘offers himself’ to be interviewed.

The words ‘desperate’ and ‘liars’ come to mind.

Brothers in harm

Thought for the Day: Before you criticise someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticise them, you’re a mile away and you have their shoes.


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Time and emotion

Thursday, June 26th, 2003

Today I’ve seem to have mostly been concerned with deadlines.

People asking me when the deadline is.

People forgetting deadlines.

People ignoring deadlines.

Me reminding people about deadlines that are approaching.

Me setting new deadlines for people.

Emails arriving within deadlines – some of them about deadline policies.

Phone calls trying to get me to change deadlines.

People asking me if I can meet deadlines.

People apologising because they’ve missed deadliness.

People missing deadlines and not apologising.

What is it about deadlines?

Why are we so hung up on them?

Yesterday was the birthday of a person who is very special in my life. I may never see that person again and a part of me is lost because of that. I try not to dwell on the pain I feel but every year on the 25th June I remember in my heart how it used to be. How we used to laugh. How loved I felt and how I loved to be with them – just being not doing. And how I’d like to see them again and how I probably never will. And the time since I last saw them seems like no time and yet it’s more than ten years. And they are with me. Still.


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Comical Ali cornered*

Wednesday, June 25th, 2003

So Alistair Campbell was not involved in any sexing up of the dodgy dossier. The whole affair was apparently a complete Horlicks. The dodgy dossier of course was cobbled together from recycled bits of a phD thesis. The dodgy dossier tried to stitch up Saddam who tried to blag his way out of a scrap with the Yanks. No joy – Saddam got his butt kicked and thirteen year old girls can write about it using crap language and half baked opinions filtered through an uncritical media.

Correction: The British Government is not run by thirteen year old girls.

*The other Comical Ali has also been cornered – read the link.


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I know my rights

Tuesday, June 24th, 2003

You have many rights. If you’re like me you probably don’t know what all of them are. I’ve been unable to track down a definitive list – the beauty of living in a country without a written constitution. What I have uncovered are a few interesting bits for your consideration. Should we have a bill of rights and what might it include?

The right to genetic privacy

The possibility now exists to establish a national genetic database containing the DNA of all citizens. According to the Ministry of Truth around 1.8 million individuals have had samples added to the police National DNA Database since 2000. The aim is to include the entire active criminal population by April 2004. This is likely to number millions of samples and seems at odds with a widely held perception that the vast majority of crime is committed by perhaps 100,000 people. Today’s white paper announcement proposes that it will be an offence to test someone’s DNA without their consent (except as part of their medical treatment where consent is impossible to obtain, or in the lawful use by police and courts. So does this mean if you get a speeding ticket you can be forced to give a DNA sample? It appears so. Serious consideration has also been given to DNA sampling all newborns . Don’t like the sound of this one little bit.

The right to silence

This is not what it used to be. If you are arrested and questioned you ‘may harm your defence if you fail to mention anything at the police station which you later rely on in court.’ Whereas in the past you could keep schtum without any adverse consequences other than a fractured skull and a thirty stretch for something you didn’t do.

Prince Charles will have to learn the value of silence if and when he becomes king. Recent tradition dictates that the monarch has the ‘right to be consulted, the right to encourage and the right to warn’ – note: this does not include the right to disproportionate influence on matters of monstrous carbuncles.

The right to a new engine

But only if the garage made a hole in your old one.

The right to blog at work

If the ‘Today’ programme is a barometer of public awareness blogging is an ‘interesting’ phenomenon which quite a few people either know nothing about or don’t understand. Given this it’s probably going to be a wee while yet before employers cotton on to why you appear to be so engrossed in your work. All that frenzied typing may well be seen as your unstinting dedication to the mission and not the displacement that is actually your quest for free speech on a paid for basis. Better be sure you know what they could be doing first though.

The right to be naked in public

Walking around at the moment you would be hard pressed to see why this is such a problem for so many. Some people would clearly look far better and be far more comfortable if they were not encumbered by crimplene trousers, nylon tops and viscose thongs. The resultant electrical imbalances too must play havoc with passing aircraft. I would love to throw off my compulsory suit and tie and emerge as nature intended into my workplace – it would be far more comfortable. [ granted it could be risky with all that heavy machinery around ] Vincent Bethell has long campaigned for the right to be naked in public. He appears to do this mainly by stripping off unexpectedly whenever the opportunity arises. On a recent trip north some of the students of St Andrews were clearly convinced. The presence or otherwise of a certain toothy individual is unknown. Public nakedness could have all sorts of unexpected benefits: Greater public health – far less easy to hide that beer belly. Less robbery – people would carry less cash. Dog mess would miraculously get cleared up. You would never have to take your boss seriously again – unless of course they had a gorgeous bod. This could lead to a whole new status issue I suppose – the size of your office would no longer be of prime interest…


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Tea and Tom

Monday, June 23rd, 2003

Check out that bouff

You may recall back on 11th June I proposed a number of new designs for a national flag.

Belatedly I have collatedly [ couldn’t resist that ] the results and we have, as Tom O’Connor once said, a tie break situation.

There are 2 votes each for:

The Eastenders design

The cup of tea design

The existing union flag (ie no change – yawn)

All other options received either no votes or 1 vote.

I therefore have the dubious responsibility of deciding the winner from among the 3 two vote contenders. With due gravity I have carefully weighed the pros and cons of all designs and viewpoints expressed and have then chosen the design I wanted anyway. I hereby declare that the new national flag will be:

Having established a suitable flag – tomorrow we will turn to other matters of constitutional import. [bet ye canna wait 😉 ]


News just in of a worldwide survey conducted by the UN. The only question asked was:

” Would you please give your honest opinion about solutions to the food shortage in the rest of the world?”

The survey was a huge failure.

In much of Africa they didn’t know what “food” meant.

In much of Eastern Europe they didn’t know what “honest” meant.

In Western Europe they didn’t know what “shortage” meant.

In China they didn’t know what “opinion” meant.

In the Middle East they didn’t know what “solution” meant.

And in the US they didn’t know what “the rest of the world” meant.


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Out of Africa – exclusivethat outfit revealed

Sunday, June 22nd, 2003

“My grandmother may be slightly apprehensive as to what she’s going to wear, and what’s going to happen, but she’s very much looking forward to it. She’s very positive toward the whole thing.”


Radio 3 goes all architectural – what I’ve been waiting for. Now if only I could get BBC4. sigh


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Saturday, June 21st, 2003


Dear drD,

Blogger is pleased to announce that for the first time in five months your archives are no longer fucked.

We thought you’d like to know.


blogmonkey no 27

PS – Your editing window doesn’t work properly though.

‘New blogger – it’s lovely and there’s a yellow button now’

plug pulled pronto?

Either popbitch was lying about this [ surely not? ] or powergen have spotted the bleedin obvious on their Italian subsidiary domain name.


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