Just a quick one for now (can you tell I haven’t had Radio Two on at lunch time this week yet).?

Saturday night… Is this right.?

Standing in your bedroom, bollocks hanging out, covering them only with a pair of pyjama bottoms whilst your mum attempts to quiz you on who is sleeping in your brother’s room with him and Lemony giggles like a drunken imp behind you.

Weird but fun weekend.!

To the Daily Mirror…

Your retarded journos got arrested because they were involved in an act of planting a device in a Channel Tunnel train. They were arrested under anti-terrorism laws because they were “committing” a crime considered to be related to terrorism. If they HAD in fact been terrorists (instead of low budget reporters from a rag newspaper with little credibility in modern society) then obviously the security arrangements made by the British Transport Police would have worked as intended.

You seem unable to grasp the fact that ANYONE can knock up a press ID and say they are “just testing the security”. If they had NOT been arrested then you would have moaned incessantly about the lack of security, blah, blah, blah on the railways.

Hopefully next time they will both be shot down like a couple of Brazilians and left splattered across the side of a Class 373.

And the weird thing is that no one HAS tried to put a bomb on a nuclear flask train… EVER. Maybe the idea isn’t there, but you certainly aren’t helping. May I suggest you get back to your usual celebrity gossip and shite that is normally presented in your paper.?

Sorry… I did have to let that out… tabloid journalists are so low down in my opinions that most child molesters appear to have better social graces than anyone working for The Sun. Mirror, Sport, Star or Mail.! The broadsheets aren’t much better either.

Ooooooh it isn’t raining. What a difference a day makes. I do miss the rain though. As long as I am inside and dry then I don’t mind what it is doing outside.

So the flood waters are retreating a little in Gloucestershire then.? Good good. At least they didn’t have John Prescott visiting them on a mercy mission. Then again I heard that a certain David Cameron, Conservative leader and MP for the constituency, has been sighted in Rwanda on a mission to help sort out trade barriers and world poverty. Sounds like a good idea but I am not so sure.

Ok, yes he should have been in the UK as the flooding unfolded before he left, but then again, what in hell do people expect him to do if he IS here.? In a flood I would have thought the best people to have around when the world and it’s dog is floating past your first floor window is a Fireman carrying a pump or maybe a bloke from the Coastguard with a bloody great yellow Sea King helicopter NOT a member of Parliament with a cheeky grin and a wavy haircut. Perhaps it is noble that he is in Africa saying “We in the Tory party want to help you” but surely problems within his own area of responsibility need addressing first. And on the subject of Africa, surely we HAVE tried… there is a lot more that can be done, but they do need to help themselves first.

I really should stop listening to Radio Two. Jeremy Vine’s programme throws up so much into my head.! Like the guy who thought that a great idea would be to concrete over ALL the train lines in Britain and turn them into coach only roads. Lunacy obviously, but reading THIS idiot’s mind bogglingly stupid ramblings I find that he is not alone in the world.!

What he has lost is the ability to understand that COACHES ARE NOT COMFORTABLE OR SAFE.! I have travelled by both train and coach. I detest being stuffed onto a 53 seater vehicle that is driven by a bloke called Nigel who used to be a gas fitter but after a couple of quick lessons he can now be put in charge of 15 tonnes of metal travelling at 56 miles an hour. He is unsafe as is Dave the trucker who doesn’t know the road he is travelling on and hasn’t had that much sleep but is still happy enough to plough on with his 44 tonner carrying petrol because he knows he will get paid more the quicker he is.

It is the same as buses. I go to Bristol on a train because I have more headroom, more legroom especially (unless I get stuck on one of Virgin’s accursed Voyagers) and it is so much smoother. Roads bounce all over the place, rails tends not to. I can’t read in a road vehicle because I become VERY travel sick almost instantly, but on a train I can do so. Also the over height vehicles such as the Sky liner or any 4m coach sways considerably at the higher point so creating a rocking motion (go upstairs on a double decker bus sometime).

The fact that the author loses credibility by having no real knowledge of the basic points of his argument just sums him up. Oh he also wrote a book on food that was ridiculed… but I can’t be arsed to take the piss out of the daft sod.

And finally, a Muslim woman made me actually laugh out loud earlier as she suggested that buying fake items of designer wear makes God cry (might be slightly paraphrasing there). She said that “fake items are usually produced through child labour, via criminal gangs, *yawns* etc”. The fact is that companies like Gucci love making big wads of cash so when they produce a bag that will set you back £2000 they know that some overpaid, under talented spacktard will nip in and buy it instantly (Victoria Beckham I was thinking there). And then those horrible women you see in the street dolled up the nines in proper chivvy designer shite who read “Heat” or “Hello” or “I am a celebrity, wank yourself off over my living room photos whilst you make me ever richer” go out and buy one. Their low paid friends HAVE to copy them and buy knocked off stuff the same but cheaper.

Most importantly of course is the fact that child labour also goes into designer stuff (like Nike apparently).

It doesn’t make God sad when you buy fake designer stuff; it just makes me want to laugh at how shallow and stupid these people are.! And is Allah a real God.? Sounds made up to me… like the rest of them.!!!

Long one today.!! Wahey.!

Tis Monday again… Have you noticed.? Marvellous. Back to being a little slower at work thankfully. But I wish it would rain PROPERLY. Drizzle just makes me think of Snoop Doggy Dogg all the time. Dammit.

What a Grand Prix that was.! My word. Rain always makes things weird but seeing six cars including The Ham sitting in the gravel trap at turn one was very odd… seeing Markus Winkelhock leading the field in his Spyker was possibly the least expected sighting of the year.!!! Brilliant racing despite the bad call from Maclaren which put Lewis a lap down again. Oh well. Hungary next, where it rained last year… but won’t this time round and so a procession it will be.!

Great time Saturday night. Notable points include me and Brownie pouring our drinks over each other, dancing to Umbrella (I know, I am very ashamed of myself) and being told some “celebrities” from Musicool (no I don’t know either) were in Hobbits… no one famous… just a few pointless unknowns.

Apparently most of the Midlands is under water. Wonder if it will come out cleaner.? And as they have been suggesting that there would be torrential rain since last week, why did it take so long to get the flood gates sorted…. and why did they end up being stuck on a lorry in the traffic jams in the first place.?!?!? The Environment Agency… working for you.

Did notice that First Great Western had proclaimed “Our trains are experiencing severe delays”. Nothing to do with the weather, just a general statement.

NEWS SHORTS
Georgie W Bush has had five suspicious lumps taken out of his arse… three were identified as Tony Blair, Dick Cheney and Jack Straw.

UK scientists have said they are very close to creating a drug to prevent Alzheimer’s disease. Trouble is they cannot remember where they left the formula. A certain Mr Beaton is very interested in the medicine to help him remember the stuff he says when drinking (this week specifically “You shouldn’t have eaten so much, you fat cow” to a pregnant friend. Don’t worry was in good humour and she giggled as well).

Tony Blair has arrived in Israel to speak to Jordan. Must be those boobs that attracted him.

There has been an apparent rise in the use of animals in scientific research. It amazes me how they can train a mouse to hold a test tube let alone get a degree in inorganic chemistry in the first place.!

Global warming is to blame for all the flooding in the Midlands… so Global watering then.?

Paul Whitehouse is being called as a witness in the “Chris Langham does kids” (allegedly) court battle. Wonder if he will turn up as the 13th Duke of Wybourne (”Me, in a fourteen year old’s bedroom.? At 3am.? What-o.!”).

And finally, the amount of anti-depressants being perscribed to under 16’s has gone up by 400% in the last ten years. The easiest ways to spot if your child is depressed are listed below…
1, Your baby doesn’t stop crying even when the Teletubbies finally get their “Tubby-Tustard”.
2, Toddlers may try slashing wrists using those plastic scissors you usually get with children’s art packs.
3, If you find your eight year old sitting watching MCR on Scuzz, weeping softly and trying to wipe his hair into an eye covering fringe, turn off the TV.

Slip you a length later then.?

‘Arry Potter is on his last legs then.? Does he get killed off in the grand finale of HP and the Deathly Hallows or does he end up shacked up with Hermione, keeping Ron Weasley chained up in a basement torture chamber and surrounded by beer can, pizza cartons and the tops off of bean tins.? I don’t actually care anymore thanks to the total over exposure the world has had to the series (even my Model Rail magazine created a model of Hogwarts for use with the Hornby train set). I watched the first two and enjoyed them but then gave up.

But listening to the radio on the way to work this morning, noting down the fact that one school was having a Harry Potter week, made me look back on my own school history and wonder how children’s literature has changed.

My old school library was chock full of the pretty dreadful books aimed primarily at adults. That was about all that was available in the 1980’s aside from Terry Pratchett and looooong winded stuff involving spies and espionage in the cold war era. I used to exclusively read factual books even from an early age. Maybe it was my usual thirst for knowledge or the lack of decent kids stuff but that’s where I ended up. It wasn’t until I worked as a Lab Manager and one of my workmates introduced me to Tom Clancy’s “Red Storm Rising” that I really started reading fiction for fun. Followed quickly by Bernard Cornwell’s “Sharpe” and Dale Brown’s series about the “Old Dog” (not a biographical series all about Bev Callard I should point out) my personal library has expanded and now I need more shelf space.

The only really good children’s books I have ever found are Enid Blyton’s “Famous Five” style ones. Not the younger age group ones though, the more early teen “running away from home and living on a secret island with your mates” kind of thing. I loved those books because they made me imagine I was there, they fired up my mind and made me think. But making the jump onto more adult books never really worked. If I wasn’t reading a copy of something about aeroplanes then I was headfirst stuck in a copy of Fred Bassett or Garfield giggling like a mad man who has just found the key to his shackles.

The question is, though, how on earth have all these kids been reading Harry Potter when child illiteracy is so bad.!?!

Well my home town is hosting an edition of “The Royal Family” tomorrow then. That is to say the Queen is gracing us with her presents (wonder what the wrapping paper will look like) and hopefully will be accompanied by Prince Phillip. I will be personally pushing ethnic minorities towards the Winter Gardens to see what he says to them. Better not take my semi-automatic rifle with me to work I guess.

In New York a steam pipe exploded yesterday, killing one person and throwing up a big ball of fluffy kittens and strawberries (ok, steam and concrete). George W Bush has issued a declaration of war on all steam pipes and is sending a task force to Steampipistan to sort them all out. Meh.

Alistair Darling, the new Chancellor, has admitted to smoking pot in his past. I can only assume it was when he was Transport Secretary. Rumours he also whizzed his tits off during Parliamentary debates are unfounded and probably not totally true. Tony Blair suggested yesterday that Mr Darling was “Right out dere mon.” Allegedly.

Time for supper… any ideas.!?!?!

To start off this post, should it become necessary to point out the irony of Scouse Iceland ad slut and ex Atomic Kitten “star” Kerry Katona being robbed then I shall be doing so in my own time, not on here in your’s.

Been a reasonably interesting start to the week. I only got moaned at a little bit at work, the rabbit was a good boy at the vets when a huge Doberman was slaveringly eyeing the poor little shaky guy up and I got a few minutes to wander up the High Street with a mate and check out the scene of the armed robbery at Nationwide. Marvellous. In passing I also saw several people from Hobbits (get jobs you lazy bastards) and got a nice hug from Lulubeth aka Kitten. And that was just yesterday.!

Today I have mopped enough water out of our downstairs stockroom to float a small armada and masturbated myself senseless over the fact the Queen is coming to town. Ok, one part of that might be a slight lie (it was actually over Prince Phillip). Cor blimey though guv’nor, didn’t it ‘alf come daaan.! In all my years I have never seen the skies looking so amazing. Even now there is a lot of weird cloud formations around outside that intrigue me in far more than a passing interest way.

As I have said before I love the autumn and it’s multitude of different types of weather and this is just how it feels but for much longer. So hurrah for no summer weather, hurrah for me not having to get my legs out too often and hurrah for me getting all sweaty at work for no apparent reason. Lovely.

Anyone for a quick rant.? Well not so much a rant… more a query of human nature.

Doctors are trying to push through an act where by organ donation would become mandatory rather than voluntary. Shocking.!!! Are any of you on the organ donor register.? No.? Why the hell not.!?! It is such a simple thing that you can do and it can make such a difference to someone else’s life. How could anyone be so selfish to prevent their relation’s organs being used to help someone else continue their life.?

I think the act is one of the best ideas ever. This one goes through.

Just when I thought Hobbits couldn’t get any better… it did. Last night started off slow but ended up brilliant. Shall we do this step by step.?

Act One. Bar 4.

A light. The smell of stale smoke and sweat. I do wish Hwang would use some deodrant occasionally, hehe.
Cue an empty Bar4 upper level, four beers, two Archers and Lemonade and Hwang, Lemony and good old Fluffy Bunny. They opened the upper bar just for the three of us and we enjoyed a quick drink and good hotter and hotter as the other customers filed up into the seating. Most of them were wearing gangster outfits circa.1920 and it looked like a rerun of Bugsy Malone… more so as 85% of them were DEFINATELY underage.

Hmmm.

Act Two. The White Lion.

Yonder, a man approaches. Dressed in black, his eyes dark with hate. Oh it’s Monkey and he isn’t allowed to smoke in the pub.
So we hit The White Lion and were eventually joined by Monkey and the rest of the other group (James, Laura, Katie, etc). Hwang set a high score on the Space Invaders game, I kicked him off the top. Katie played pool against Lemony whilst Chris coached her and I coached Lemony. It went so well as Lemony potted the black…… and then the white on the backspin. Arse. Lots of amusement was had though.

Act Three. Phoenix.

The Earth a rising moon, the smell of the musty ground after rain… nope it’s the smell of the drains by the bar again.
Balcony. A little light wind. The smoke that we all miss so much and a good laugh with the rest of the group including Pouty who is now pouting for a professional modelling society . There were an awful lot of Hen Nights around last night which was odd but I suppose people tend to get married more in the summer than the rest of the year apart from Valentine’s Day. We left Hwang to finish his beer and then onwards…

Act Four, The Finale. Hobbits.

Darkness. A simple wooden bench as made by an aging craftsman, ah apparently a bloke called Terry from Nuneaton with a nail gun and a Transit
So we got there in the end. A night of debauchery continued in Hobbits. I won a sticker for helping out ANOTHER hen night (bunny ears on women don’t look right when dancing to Chop Suey).! Baz was thankfully sat saving our seats and he got a quick neck massage for his efforts. Two tequila’s saw me feeling very drunk and a little silly and after some dancing I ended up sat in the doorway of the shop next door, with Dory, a boss eyed girl named Lucy and a stripper called Tanya from Worcester. Don’t ask. Was very amusing though… Until Pouty appeared and plonked herself down in a small pile of vomit and looked like someone had driven a tricycle over her head. Seven tequila’s wasn’t it honey.? Vomiting waited until halfway home thankfully.

But it was a fucking good night.! Totally brilliant and I hope to totally recreate it next weekend with a few more people in Hobbits on Friday.!

Roll on the weekend.!!!

Ah the weekend. Work has been hell this week and I am not sorry to have these two days to recover.

So last night was a bit weird wasn’t it.! We were late into town, went straight to Phoenix and found they were closed until TEN.!!! Bastards. So we headed for the White Lion, had a pint in there and then headed back to

the strangely evil (TAXI!) smelling Phoenix (not Pheonix, Angel) where the toilets smelt better than the bar.!!! Weird.

Heading for Hobbits we got a bit wetter thanks to the rather Autumnal weather, but were amazed to find that the rain had kept a LOT of people away from Hobbits. There were four of us… and three more inside. lol.

Thanks to Mark for the discount on the entry I had enough to drink myself stupid… and carried on doing so when Hwang arrived. We had a bit of a dance and a really good night. I had way too much Aftershock and

STILL wouldn’t dance to Iron Maiden. Hehe. Was the best night I have had in the new Hobbits I think and the first time I have properly been drunk since the red wine night at DownLoad (BABY). SO thank you to all that

made it so… Chris, Dory, Lemony, Angel, Wobz and her hubby, Tina, Rich, High Voltage Kate (hehe) and of course, the awfully lovely Hwang. Tonight I hope it is just as good. If not better.!

Well it is Saturday so for the first time this month (as I have been overdoing them recently) have a few of the Search Queries I have got so far this 12th of the year…

“Amanda Holden takes it up the arse” – Does she.?? Dirty mare. No wonder she ends up on so many TV shows spreading her own brand of shite acting across the world.
“Fat German” – Narrow it down more. I mean, Helmet Khol wasn’t exactly thin. Herman Goering was bacon in jack boots so take your pick.!
“Charlotte Church in tights pics” – My God.! Can you imagine that.? Would be cellulite and Welsh fat spurging out in all directions. Reminds me of an ex. Hehe.
“Ringpiece picture” – Must be the same photographer who was snapping the Queen the other day. Maybe she had the camera backwards. Or pointed at Prince Edward.
“Wrinkly fannies” – Is there any other kind.? Surely by the nature of the Labia Minora and Majora they are a bit wrinkled due to all that moisture (not Labia MajorCa, that is a place in Spain which is full of cunts)
“Cock like a salami” – Ah, recognition. But why is it like a salami.? Size.? Colour.? SMELL.??? Hmmm, if it is in the size category then pray it isn’t a pepperami.!
“Did Michael Barrymore shag his mate to death” – I have nothing to say to this. I just think it is funny.
“Up her arse”, “Gemma Laity” and “He shagged the arse off her” – Err Brownie, these all appeared around your name. Explanations please.!
“Trisha Goddard stockings” – Right up there with Miss Church and her tights.! “On the show today we have Eva from Poland who wants to shag her boyfriend and his mum… like my legs in these.?”
“Train travel vomit statistics” – Porridge splattered over the floor of a MK3 TRFB or cheesecake all over a M2 TSO.? Yummy.
“Big Brother Menstruation” – See now this is too easy.!
“Baker’s Hat” –

“Undefused Myspace” – Watch out for any Muslims you might have added in your friends list. They might go off.
“Best thing to go with Pitta bread” – How about a big slice of lunacy, a little satire and sprinkle it lightly with a nice bit of cheese. Hwang… get the grater out again.!

And here endeth the lethon.

You know how much I hate people who fail to claim any responsibility whatsoever for their own actions.? Like that idiot girl who’s brother drove his car too fast down the Toll Road and ended up saying hi to St Nick and Bernard Manning. Well today I heard that a woman who’s baby was scalded to death in a hot bath is campaigning for restrictors to be fitted to plumbing so the water “cannot get too hot”.

Pick out the wrong bits in this scenario. She puts on a bath. Leaves her baby with her 12 year old child and goes to the loo. Moments later she hears screaming and runs back in to find the baby in the bath. Now firstly what the hell was she doing leaving her baby alone with a child. Secondly, why did the 12 year old not stop the baby getting in the bath or were they PUT in the bath as an innocent “lets get my sibling wet” prank.? But most importantly of all… why in the name of bally fuck did she run a bath for a BABY and put the HOT water on first.? Surely common sense tells you that if you are leaving a small child in a room with a potentially lethal substance in it, even with the presence of another child, then you put cold in first and make it get hotter.

YOU are a bad mother. Take ownership for your mistake and stop trying to push in a law that makes no sense.

I must add something before I go. Gordon Brown. Standing up to the USA. VERY good boy.

Oh and later news… Holmz, yes I do. I am also not at all surprised about Mr Beaton and your bottom.

(Ed – Thank you Sue, must have been having a bad day, spelling wise, hehe).

Dear Mr Hairy Face.

As you seem unable to understand, here are the reasons that your company, Virgin, lost the franchise for the UK Cross Country Rail Route.

Firstly despite being told by various media people, the general public and unless they are all very stupid (or a bunch of well to do ‘Yes’ men), your higher management staff, your newest trains are not long enough. That is to say you retired all those wonderful HST’s with their eight quiet and comfortable mark three carriages and replaced them with 4 or 5 car, underfloor powered, DMMU’s. The Voyagers were a terrible thing to unleash on a travelling public. Yes they accelerate well, but that is where the love story ends. They are cramped, have little baggage area (despite being used on a cross country service that by definition would require passengers to be loaded up with bags and cases). They have pointlessly small LED displays for the reservations and the shops only stock Virgin bloody cola which, if you pardon the phrase, tastes of arse.

Having travelled on the damn things I would like to say the designers must make bloody good aeroplanes because their trains are useless.

Secondly you decided to increase the timings for all your trains to fifteen minute intervals. Marvellous. But shat on because the trains are half the length.

Actually that is all I think you lost it on. There is not that much to running a rail service from a passengers (STOP calling us CUSTOMERS, we travel, we don’t buy) point of view. All a PASSENGER wants is for a clean, comfortable and relatively quiet train to pull into a station on time, take them where they want to go with no hidden surprises mid way through and to walk off the train at the other end feeling refreshingly happy and unstressed.

Train travel shouldn’t be an ordeal. It should be a journey through the country, a little adventure in an ordinary day. we can’t return to the days of the sixties where railways ran to every point of the British Isles. But with the help of a decent company (and First I am looking very big daggers at you, you scabby bastards, charging £102 for a return to London on a Saturday just because I wish to spend more than 50 minutes wandering around the damn place) the pleasure of train travel can be brought back to life.

*****LATE NEWS*****

Should mention that the above blog was sent as a letter to Virgin Trains themselves. I will let you know if I get anything back.