Bignjuicy

Today the theme is Colour. An appropriate one I thought given the glorious sunshine today in bignjuicyville. All the answers then are – you guessed it – colours. Roundup on Sunday when you can come back and scoop any unanswered questions that remain; for now 2 each max. 15 questions this week to keep things interesting. The points table is shaping up interestingly – I may have to start awarding bonuses if we’re going to get some donations happening before Easter.

1. Whoopie’s film

2. Female singer

3. Coldplay anthem

4. Eco party

5. Evil captain

6. Angry vision

7. Beatles monochrome album

8. Southern US grass music

9. Jaffa

10. Jubilee line

11. Gordon

12. Gather in the spring again

13. Scweam and scweam

14. Under the bed

15. Remembered hills

A recent police raid in West London saw the first ever use in the UK of a giant X-Ray scanner which was trucked into the neighbourhood for the occasion. The giant X-Ray shows a graphic image of a person minus their clothes. It can reveal any item hidden under clothing such as guns, clubs, coshes, explosives, drugs, intimate body piercings, concealed copies of Busty Housewives Weekly and voodo fetish dolls of William Hague secreted in the nether regions.

Scary indeed if you are ever subject to such scanning – who knows what dark secrets may be revealed to Mike, Sue and all the other lads down the station? Who knows where your scan images may end up – posted on some dodgy file sharing site and downloaded to be drooled over by X-Ray obsessed degenerates in dark bedrooms. [Shudder] Made into T Shirt transfers and sold, printed on cheap cotton, on dodgy market stalls to rebellious middle class youths?

This technology is going to be irresistible. I can just see the security freaks consultants getting excited by the prospect of being able to electronically undress people on the pretext of increased security. “If you’re not doing anything wrong – you have nothing to fear – it’s all designed to improve public safety”. Naa naa whine whinny, froth foam – pass the Daily Mail puhlease.

Once the machinery becomes cheap enough and small enough it will start to appear all over. Just like metal detectors, CCTV cameras and rectal probes have infiltrated our high streets. Well maybe not the rectal probes just yet – but they’ll be creeping in by the backdoor too – just you wait.

Yes, it’s the beginning of the end. Now you really will have to make sure you’ve got clean pants on every day – either that or be caught out by Sargeant Knicker-Scan and his unfeasibly large equipment.

Stephen Whitehead in his book, ‘The Many Faces of Men:The Definitive Guide to the Male Species‘, identifies 27 different types of men. Based on 15 years of research into ‘(pro)feminist poststructuralist theories in order to critically explore men and masculinities, identity, gender and management, and organisational behaviour’ – the book attempts to give a witty insight into ‘what makes men tick’. Promoted as a way for women to gain a greater understanding of why men are the way they are and for men to better understand themselves – the basic thesis is that we all fit into one of the 27 types.

A handy list is presented here. The short summaries, though, give a confusing picture – I couldn’t place myself in any one of the categories – a lot of them overlapped as far as I was concerned. It would all depend on what day it was and probably what time of day it was and I would probably be a different type each time. Next I tried the handy publisher’s quiz here – trying to answer the questions in relation to me as though I was the long suffering partner of myself – [ confused yet? ] – because they assume that the quiz will not be attempted by sad singletons; because, well, they don’t count do they?

Anyway, having done the quiz I’m even more sad because it looks as though I’m far too nice for my own good – ‘not that shaggable’ – as they sensitively put it.

So that’s it – my life is over. Either that or I go round to Keele and kick Stephen Whitehead – that would make me type 14 – Mr Angry I guess.

Q: ‘What type are you or your man ?

Just over 50 years ago Watson and Crick uncovered the structure of DNA. Since then technologies to understand and manipulate DNA have proliferated. Now this process has surely come of age when you are able to buy a DNA sequencer you can use at home. Not only that, the sequencer is designed as a childrens toy!

Back in December I picked up a copy of Wired magazine. Reading through I was astonished to come across a toy DNA sequencer. Available from the Discovery Channel shop for $80 – the ‘Discovery DNA Explorer Kit’ includes, among other things, a centrifuge, magnetic mixer and electrophoresis chamber. Looking like a prop from Lost in Space – the kit has everything for the budding molecular biologist. As ever, batteries not included.

So cool – I want one badly.

But what next: ‘My first thermonuclear device? [uranium must be ordered separately from Mexico]‘

Quiz answers

The Spring quiz was sprung pretty quickly with all answers being supplied with plenty of time to spare. Thanks again to all participants – points are now posted. Next quiz: Wednesday – see ya then.

Blue 2

Much mystery over at the coven with the sudden disappearance of Witchy.

This followed soon after by a glowing blue subterranean wall in East London.

There are forces at work that we do not understand. *goes off to bury toenail clippings at crossroads*

We live in a quiet neighbourhood.

Randy Bender achieves cross cultural notoriety via PopBitch.

Zaha Hadid has been awarded the 2004 Pritzker Prize for architecture. She is the first woman and the first Iraqi to win the ‘nobel’ for architecture.

Dinky the singing Dingo likes to tickle the ivories downunder.

Some dogs like to dig holes to keep cool.

Blind dogs can lead active and fulfilling doggy lives.

Jean’s pussy is half as old as she is.

Douglas has not had a haircut for six months.

Vodka and Redbull is powerfully hallucinagenic and not a very well known combo in Miami.

I’m criminally under-commented.

Whadda week – feeling v.tired and so glad it’s the WEEKEND

Yesterday evening I was so tired I fell asleep on the sofa, mouth open, light on, woke up at 2am feeling v.special indeed. May have been something to do with the compulsive Googlewhacking I was doing for most of the day. Displacement activities – moi? I’ve still not found a proper whack – despite about six million attempts but I’m working on it – I may well go blind in the attempt but what price futile googling eh?

Anyway, it’s the weekend and for once – it’s a blank canvass – stretching before me like a pristine snowfield waiting to have my big plates of meat stomp all over it, corrupting it’s virgin loveliness and rendering it a complete scene of devastation. Where did that come from? So I’m going to savour it awhile and plot some hedonistic scheme to keep me amused.

Career conundrum

Saw a job advertised today that could be ideal for me. I could walk to work, earn significantly more than I am now. Utilise more of my skills, work with a friendly team. I’m pretty confident I could get the job too. Yet something is stopping me from applying. I want to be my own boss. Am I mad?

Blue

I’m sad that Simon has announced his withdrawal from the blogmill. He was one of my first linkers and he’s written many a post that made me think. I cut out n kept one from a while back and was re-reading it the other day. He has a way with words has our Simon and I’m going to miss him.

Midday sun

Do that Quiz, baby, do that Quiz, you know you want to – ooh yeah…

I’ve often wondered what could be the evolutionary benefits of “the Personality Clash”?

Most of the people I meet I find that I can rub along with pretty well. In the main you can usually find common ground with people and establish a decent relationship. Good humour, mutual respect, courtesy, a certain gentleness with people usually does the trick. People are susceptible to my charms (at least I like to delude myself that they are) – bugger it: I’m a pretty nice chap. I see this pattern of interaction every day with other people too and the world that I live in is fortunately a reasonably harmonious place.

Every now and again though it all appears to go wrong. The two parties just can’t seem to connect, they both seem to have completely different views of the same situation and try though they might can’t seem to find common ground.

It’s as if they have been programmed not to agree – as if they are incapable of doing so. Writ large – this is what causes wars. What possible value can this have in any Society?

Calling all Sociologists …

It’s the Quiz of the Week – nice n simple this week – the theme is ‘Spring’. 2 answers each until Sunday when you can come back and scoop any remaining questions. Answers Sunday night and remember – it’s all for charidee!

1. What is the title of that song from the Mel Brooks film, The Producers.

2. Yellow flower.

3. Easter ****y.

4. Bouncy man from the Roundabout.

5. Early flowering and white and little and lovely.

6. It rises.

7. Bouncy feet – saying.

8. You’re no flightless bird that lays eggs.

9. Seasonal removal of detritus from one’s abode.

10. Woolly children born.

This post comes to you from the inside lane of the M1. Brought to you via the power of the mighty ipaq. Having been stranded here for the last hour I thought I’d amuse myself and try to dull the pain of having to listen to Ken Dodd’s Hawaiian party hits which are being thoughtfully MC’d by the neighbouring car – full of loud Irish women and their children. Reminiscent of the classic episode of, ‘One foot in the grave’ – this jam has the feeling that it could take a long time. So far I’ve yet to step outside the car. Others have already done so however. Quite a gathering over there in the overtaking lane. People craining their necks, trying to see what’s causing the delay up ahead. I have to confess to wondering if its one of those incidents. So much fixation at present with imminent attack and such like. There I was cruising along at a steady 60mph, contemplating my nostrils in the rear view mirror when suddenly a barrage of brake lights in front prompts rapid deceleration to standstill. And here I’ve been since. Ho hum.

Linkage

{johnmajorvoice}

I’ve been secretly enjoying the contents of Simon’s skip for some considerable time – oh yes. And I would very much like to place a link to said skip across there on the left.

{/johnmajorvoice}

Anyone that can analyse a 70’s mens hairdryer the way Simon does has my attention.

They’ve got a new musak CD at Mogadonmart. I can’t be sure but it sounds like, ‘The Smurfs sing the Best of Bob Marley’. It was all I could do not to crack earlier as, ‘I don’t wanna dance’ was relayed Pinky & Perky style over the tannoy whilst I shopped for snackettes. I think they must get these CDs from Mogadon HQ where they have a low budget recording studio. It’s probably known as ‘Central Recording And Production’ and staffed by someone near to retirement who steals playlists from Radio 2 and then buys in local vocally challenged people of small stature to lay down the tracks against nasty backing tracks downloaded from Cacknack.com in North Korea. I estimate the production budget for each CD to be at least £4.50. They probably tell the singers that this may be their big break as at least 1000 people will hear their feeble warblings each week. Little do they know that most of that 1000 will try to get the hell out of the shop as quickly as possible to escape the dirge.

They’ve also taken on a security guard – a sign of imminent Al Qaeda activity in the detergents and luxury chocolates aisle? [3 for 2 on Bournville this week] – the security guard is called ‘Phil’. I know this because he was wearing a peaked cap – A California Highways Patrol stylee one – with a big badge on the front saying, ‘Phil’. ‘Phil’ is about five foot three and built like a twiglet – he’s got enormous commando boots with JCB style tyre tread soles. I’m sensing ‘Phil’ may not last long in the job. As I was leaving the store this evening he was discussing a matter of concern with one of our fine local young people. “You look like a dick in that cap mate”, said the fine local young person – who looked about 12 but was actually taller than ‘Phil’. ‘Phil’ was not looking happy.