Many is the evening when your humble correspondent has tottered unsteadily home after a long night carousing with The Englishman, only to be greeted by a sight similar to this...

I say “similar to this” because FM Towers has slightly different wall art – generally of the dire regimental variety – and Mrs FM recently ungraded her section weapon using Nectar points to the venerable Bren’s belt fed successor. Whilst she finds it slightly less convenient, apparently a 200 round belt of 1-in-4 is much better for lighting up anti-hunt scumbags

In overnight traffic, Kim made the follow more than generous offer
Mr. FM, as a furriner I would feel it not my place to participate in the Glorious Day's festivities, but I would be happy to perform what some may call "menial" services (oiling the rope, holding your coat etc) while the executions take place. I also know how to reload, very quickly, a Bren gun's magazine, if that would be of any assistance...
Come The Glorious Day, how will you help?
Recently nominated for a lifetime award for his reinterpretation of Italian ice cream vendor chic
North African potentate Colonel ‘Jazzy’ G surpassed himself yesterday, with this seasons Dark Continent leisure & combat shirt.

Although it doesn’t really show up in this photo, the green blobs on the garment in question are in fact depictions of the continent in question – the whole ensemble providing a truly African & Islamic in a sort of a secular single ruling party alternative to Western capitalist disruptive pattern materials
In my admittedly very limited experience, it’s much easier just to shoot them...
A fat capitalist cigar for Watercresspete for finding this
The organisers of the African Infantryman of the Year competition face allegations of blatant & old fashioned racism over this morning’s entry which shows black militiamen who has "whitened up", plunging the entire series into the latest of many race rows to hit this blog

The Bloemfontein based Ex-Mercs Castle Lager Coalition have condemned the competitions organisers decision to publish the picture as stupid & offensive, while members of Johannesburg's Rand Club have added to the chorus of disapproval. Speaking from the club's Spencer Whiting Armoury, General Jannie van der Witte Aarde warned that it will cause serious offence & went on to add that it’s a throwback to an era when white mercenaries were used. He added that these days "whiting up" is considered to be dehumanising to white people & racist.
Against this backdrop, the organisers were simply cock-a-hoop to receive a genuinely non-black African nomination from one ex-Corporal Deluxe Mapatabi...
Love the African Infantryman series & wanted to send a bio of another famous African warrior, Sir Morris fford-Blanchfork in his field kit & belt order. It is arcane knowledge that European officers led the best African Regiments. As a survivor, I can sorely attest to that.

This is a faded picture taken somewhere in Africa, long ago, hopefully long enough for the War Crimes Tribunal to forget about what actually happened. My friend was an Honorary Colonel in the Kwanza Special Para-Military Police Regiment. He may have led many of those brave men so gloriously pictured in your African Infantryman contest.
You see him outfitted here with the snappy but efficient field dress of the Kwanza Police with Lightweight Looting Kit so popular amongst the troops. Notice the 50rd. panic mag, hatchet for jewellery liberation & clandestine felony slippers.
He was always saddened that despite a long & illustrious career there were no journalists in that part of Africa where he served. He always said he had big plans if he ever caught one
Most humbly
Deluxe
I am delighted to be able to report that we will have several new contestants for our African Infantryman of the Year competition...

...but frankly, this mornings entry leaves me at somewhat of a loss for words save for the fact that he is unlikely to run out of shells anytime soon

I have no doubt that this has been twice around the electronic block already, but I saw it for the first time yesterday c/o Tricky...
Rt Hon Hilary Benn MP
Secretary of State.
Dept. for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs
Nobel House
17 Smith Square
London
SW1P 3JR
16 July 2009
Dear Secretary of State
My friend, who is in farming at the moment, recently received a cheque for £3,000 from the Rural Payments Agency for not rearing pigs.. I would now like to join the “not rearing pigs” business.
In your opinion, what is the best kind of farm not to rear pigs on, and which is the best breed of pigs not to rear? I want to be sure I approach this endeavour in keeping with all government policies, as dictated by the EU under the Common Agricultural Policy.
I would prefer not to rear bacon pigs, but if this is not the type you want not rearing, I will just as gladly not rear porkers. Are there any advantages in not rearing rare breeds such as Saddlebacks or Gloucester Old Spots, or are there too many people already not rearing these?
As I see it, the hardest part of this programme will be keeping an accurate record of how many pigs I haven’t reared. Are there any Government or Local Authority courses on this?
My friend is very satisfied with this business. He has been rearing pigs for forty years or so, and the best he ever made on them was £1,422 in 1968. That is – until this year, when he received a cheque for not rearing any.
If I get £3,000 for not rearing 50 pigs, will I get £6,000 for not rearing 100? I plan to operate on a small scale at first, holding myself down to about 4,000 pigs not raised, which will mean about £240,000 for the first year. As I become more expert in not rearing pigs, I plan to be more ambitious, perhaps increasing to, say, 40,000 pigs not reared in my second year, for which I should expect about £2.4 million from your department. Incidentally, I wonder if I would be eligible to receive tradable carbon credits for all these pigs not producing harmful and polluting methane gases?
Another point: These pigs that I plan not to rear will not eat 2,000 tonnes of cereals. I understand that you also pay farmers for not growing crops. Will I qualify for payments for not growing cereals to not feed the pigs I don’t rear?
I am also considering the “not milking cows” business, so please send any information you have on that too. Please could you also include the current DEFRA advice on set aside fields? Can this be done on an e-commerce basis with virtual fields (of which I seem to have several thousand hectares)?
In view of the above you will realise that I will be totally unemployed, and will therefore qualify for unemployment benefits. I shall of course be voting for your party at the next general election.
Yours faithfully,
Found by Kim
However I should mention at the risk of being didactic (that’s Welsh for pedant), this post should be entitled Croeso i Gymru, because the 'i' causes a soft mutation in the following word. Welcome to Welsh, the only language with words that have no recognisable vowels
Viscount Snodgrass called to the men in the field trying to bring a fox to ground

Never mind Jenkins. We'll call off the hunt for today & go & find something back at the house to kill instead
The new Liverpool manager sent scouts out around the world looking for a new striker to replace Michael Owen and hopefully win Liverpool the title.
One of the scouts informs him of a young Afghan striker who he thinks will turn out to be a true superstar. The Liverpool manager flies to Kabul to watch him and is suitably impressed and arranges him to come over to Anfield. Two weeks later,Liverpool are 4-0 down to Man Utd with only 20 minutes left. The manager gives the young Afghan striker the nod and on he goes.
The lad is a sensation, scores 5 in 20 minutes and wins the game for Liverpool. The fans are delighted, the players and coaches are delighted and the media love the new star.
When the player comes off the pitch he phones his mum to tell her about his first day in English football.
Hello mum, guess what?" he says. "I played for 20 minutes today, we were 4-0 down but I scored 5 and we won. Everybody loves me, the fans, the media, they all love me."
"Wonderful," says his mum, "Let me tell you about my day. Your father got shot in the street, your sister and I were ambushed and beaten and your brother has joined a gang of looters, while you were having a great time."
The young lad is very upset, "What can I say mum, but I'm so sorry."
"Sorry?!" says his mum, "It's your fault we moved to Liverpool in the first place!"
In MoD files that were declassified over the weekend are papers that reveal the real reasons behind the Allies victory in the Battle of the Atlantic
Nothing like a little Nazi homo-erotic properganda to start the day with!
We haven’t had an entry in our favourite talent show for some time, however late last night, I found a new contestant c/o Theo

Looking down the barrel of a rifle is never a particularly bright thing to do, especially when our contestant still has a magazine on his weapon. Not to worry, its unloaded ... yes, it is definitely not loaded ... absolutely 100% certain. Cleareasesprings....

A fat capitalist cigar for RB for this one & while we are on the topic, Gordski needs to pony up the £12,415 he shouldn't have claimed
The airliner is high above the mid-Atlantic when with sickening inevitability, three of the four engines fail & having jettisoned as much baggage as they can, to remain airborne & for comic effect, they have to start throwing out passengers in alphabetical order
The Captain, one of those square jawed sorts of a chap with a reassuring three syllable surname asks if there are any Africans on board. They are then summarily tossed into the sea, but the aircraft continues to lose altitude. Next the Captain asks if there are any blacks on board & after they are thrown out, if any of the remaining passengers are coloured. At this point a young black lad turns to his mother & asks, “Aren’t we African, black & coloured?”
“Yes we are,” she replies “but for the purposes of this joke, we are niggaz & those Muslims are going first”
Only in Swansea dear readers, only in Swansea...
Two yobs who attacked a pair of cross-dressers picked on the wrong guys - they were cage fighters on a night out in fancy dress. Drunken Dean Gardener and Jason Fender taunted the pair who were tottering along the street in wigs, short skirts and high heels.
When bare-chested Gardener aimed a punch at one of the cage fighters, his friend, wearing a sparkly black dress and long wig, stepped in and landed two lightning quick blows. The punches sent the yobs reeling, while their intended victims teetered away in their high heels, stopping only to pick up a clutch bag they had dropped during the melée.
They had already scrapped with several men, including one dressed as Spider-Man, before they approached the cross-dressing cage fighters.
But better still
The incident was caught on CCTV as the pair confronted one of the drag queens, who was wearing a pink wig, black skirt and boob tube.
& the money quote...
As they appeared in court yesterday, their lawyer, Mark Davies, said: 'You know it cannot have been a good night when you get into a fight with Spider-Man and two cross-dressing men.
Maybe there is an upside to this whole CCTV thing?
I know that it’s a little early in the week to be considering Comment of the Week, but this offering from one John Hammond must surely be a contender?
Usually when men talk about their pride and joy its in referance to their dicks. I guess yours is so small you had to find a high powered killing machine to take its place. How much more life needs to be taken to make up for your shriveled little noodle dick?
Thank you John, the judges will notify of their decision in due course. In the meantime...

I guess that qualifies me as a paid up member of the Morecombe Bay Potted Shrimp Society

A fat capitalist cigar together with a complimentary cactus for Alan for finding this one
One from the vault...
The evolution and history of lawyers is very similar to the evolution and history of mankind. Like the symbiotic relationship between trees and fungus, lawyers and humans have an important, interlocking relationship going back to the dawn of man.
Legal anthropologists have not yet discovered the proverbial first lawyer. No briefs or pleadings remain from the proto-lawyer that is thought to have been in existence more than 5 million years ago.
Chimpanzees, man's and lawyer's closest relative, share 99% of the same genes. New research has definitely proven that chimpanzees do not have the special L1a gene that distinguishes lawyers from everyone else. (1)
This disproved the famous outcome of the Scopes Monkey Trial in which Clarence Darrow proved that monkeys were also lawyers.
Charles Darwin, Esquire theorized in the mid-1800s that tribes of lawyers existed as early as 2.5 million years ago. However, in his travels he found little evidence to support this theory.
Legal anthropology suffered a set-back at the turn of the century in the famous Piltdown Lawyer scandal. In order to prove the existence of the missing legal link, a scientist claimed he had found the skull of an ancient lawyer. The skull later turned out to be homemade, combining the large jaw of a modern lawyer with the skull cap of a gorilla. When the hoax was discovered, the science of legal anthropology was set back 50 years.
The first hard scientific proof of the existence of lawyers was discovered by Dr. Margaret Leakey at the Olduvai Gorge in Tanzania. Her find consisted of several legal fragments, but no full case was found intact at the site. Carbon dating has estimated the find at between 1 million and 1.5 million years ago. However, through legal anthropology methods, it has been theorized that the site contains the remains of a fraud trial in which the defendant sought to disprove liability on the basis of his inability to stand erect. The case outcome is unknown, but it coincides with the decline of the Australopithecus and the rise of Homo Erectus in the world. (2)
In many sites dating from 250,000 to 1,000,000 years ago, legal tools have been uncovered. Unfortunately, the tools are often in fragments, making it difficult to gain much knowledge.
The first complete site discovered has been dated to 150,000 years ago. Stone pictograph briefs were found concerning a land boundary dispute between a tribe of Neanderthals and a tribe of Cro-Magnons. This decision in favor of the Cro-Magnon tribe led to a successive set of cases, spelling the end for the Neanderthal tribe. (3)
Until 10,000 years ago, lawyers wandered around in small tribes, seeking out clients. Finally, small settlements of lawyers began to spring up in the Ur Valley, the birthplace of modern civilization. With settlement came the invention of writing.
Previously lawyers had relied on oral bills for collection of payment, which made collection difficult and meant that if a client died before payment (4) the bill would remain uncollected. With written bills, lawyers could continue collection indefinitely.
In the late 1880s, legal anthropologists cracked the legal hieroglyphic language when they were able to determine the meaning of the now famous Rosetta Stone Contract.(5) The famous first paragraph can be recited verbatim by almost every lawyer: In consideration of 20,000 Assyrians workers, 3,512 live goats and 400,000 hectares of dates, the undersigned hereby conveys all of the undersigned's right, title, and interest in and to the property commonly known as the Sphinx, more particularly described on Stone A attached hereto and made a part hereof.
The attempted sale of the Sphinx resulted in the Pharaoh issuing a country-wide purge of all lawyers. Many were slaughtered, and the rest wandered in the desert for years looking for a place to practice.
Greece and Rome saw the revival of the lawyer in society. Lawyers were again allowed to freely practice, and they took full advantage of this opportunity. Many records exist from this classic period. Legal cases ranged from run-of-the-mill goat contract cases to the well-known product liability case documented in the Estate of Socrates v. Hemlock Wine Company, 123 Roman2d 675 (Roman Feudal Court 399 B.C.).(6)
The most famous lawyer of this period was Hamurabi the Lawyer. His code of law gave lawyers hundreds of new business opportunities. With the creation of a massive legal system, the demand for lawyers increased ten-fold. In those days, almost any thief or crook could kill a sheep, hang-up a sheep skin, and practice law, unlike the highly regulated system today which limits law degrees to only those thieves and crooks who haven't been convicted of a major felony.
The explosion in the number of lawyers coincided with the development of algebra, the mathematics of legal billing. Pythagoras a famous Greek lawyer is revered for his Pythagorean Theorem which proved the mathematical quandary of double billing. This new development allowed lawyers to become wealthy members of their community, as well as to enter politics, an area previously considered off-limits to lawyers. Despite the mathematical soundness of double billing, some lawyers went to extremes. Julius Caesar, a Roman lawyer and politician, was murdered by several clients for his record hours billed in late February and early March of 44 B.C.(7)
Before the Roman Era, lawyers did not have specific areas of practice. During the period, legal specialist arose to meet the demands of the burgeoning Roman population. Sports lawyers counseled gladiators, Admiralty lawyers drafted contracts for the great battles in the Coliseum, International lawyers traveled with the great Roman armies to force native lawyers to sign treaties of adhesion. Many of these treaties lasted hundreds of years until they were broken by the Barbarian lawyers who descended on Rome from the north and east, and the ever-popular Pro Bono lawyers (Latin for 'can't get a real job') who represented Christians and lost all their cases for 300 years.
As time went on, the population of lawyers continued to grow until 1 out of every 2 Romans was a lawyer. Soon lawyers were intermarrying. This produced children who were legally entitled to practice Roman law, but because of the many defects that such a match produced, the quality of lawyers degenerated, resulting in an ever-increasing defective legal society, and the introduction of accountants. Pressured by the legal barbarians from the north with their 'sign or die' negotiating skills, Rome fell and the world entered the Dark Ages.
During the Dark Ages, many of the legal theories and practice developed during the golden age were forgotten. Lawyers lost the art of double billing, the thirty-hour day, the 15- minute phone call; they virtually became mere manual laborers, sharing space with primitive doctor-barbers. Many people sought out magicians and witches instead of lawyers, since they were cheaper and easier to understand.
The Dark Ages for lawyers ended in England in 1078. Norman lawyers discovered a loophole in Welsh law that allowed William the Conqueror to foreclose an old French loan and take most of England, Scotland, and Wales. William rewarded the lawyers for their work, and soon lawyers were again accepted in society.
Lawyers became so popular during this period that they were able to heavily influence the kings of Britain, France, and Germany. After a Turkish corporation stiffed the largest and oldest English law firm, the partners of the firm convinced these kings to start a bill crusade, sending collection knights all the way to Jerusalem to seek payment.
A major breakthrough for lawyers occurred in the 17th century. Blackstone the Magician, on a trip through Rome, unearthed several dozen ancient Roman legal texts. The new knowledge spread through the legal community like the black plague. Up to that point, lawyers had used the local language of the community for their work. Since many smart non-lawyers could thus determine what work, if any, the lawyer had done, lawyers often lost clients, and sometimes their head.
Using Blackstone's finds, lawyers could use Latin to hide what they did so that only other lawyers understood what was happening in any lawsuit. Blackstone was a hero to all lawyers, of course, until he was sued for copyright infringement by another lawyer.(8)
Despite his loss, Blackstone is still fondly remembered by most lawyers as 'the father of legal Latin'. 'Res ipsa loquitur' was Blackstone's favorite saying ('my bill speaks for itself') and it is still heard today.
Many lawyers made history during the Middle Ages. Genghis Kahn, Esq., from a family of Jewish lawyers and senior partner in the firm Hun & Kahn, pioneered the practice of merging with law offices around Asia Minor at any cost. At one time, the firm was the largest in Asia and Europe. Unfortunately, their success became their downfall. Originally a large personal injury firm (if you didn't pay their bill, they personally injured you), they became conservative over time and were eventually overwhelmed by lawyers from the west.
Vlad Dracul, Esq., a medical malpractice specialist, was renowned for his knowledge of anatomy, and few jurors would side against him for fear of his special bill (his bill was placed atop 20 foot wooden spears on which the non-paying client was placed). His legendary legal practice became the basis for many 20th Century legal horror films starring such legendary actors as Borris Karloff and Christopher Lee.(9)
Leonardo da Vinci, Esq. was multi-talented. Besides having a busy law practice, he was also an artist and inventor. His most famous case was in defense of himself. M. Lisa v. da Vinci 792 StPeteR 45 (Italian Superior Court 1513) involved a product liability suit over a painting Da Vinci delivered to the Plaintiff.
The court, in ruling that the painting was not defective despite the missing eyebrows, issued the famous line, 'This court may not know art, but it knows what it likes and it likes the painting.' This was not surprising, since the plaintiff was known for her huge, caterpillar-like eyebrows. Da Vinci was able to convince the court that he was not only entitled to damages, but to attorney's fees, costs, and punitive damages as well. The court, taking one last look at the plaintiff, granted the request.
A land dispute case in the late 15th century is still studied today for the clever work of lawyer named Christopher Columbus, Esq. He successfully convinced an Aztec court, in Columbus v. 1,000,000 Acres, 3 SA3d 1095 (Aztec High Court 1493) that since the Indians did not believe in possession, they could not legally claim the land in question. Therefore, his claim had to be given priority. Despite the fact that the entire court was sacrificed to the gods, the case held, and Spain took an early legal lead in the New World. This was due to Columbus recording the court's judgment in the Aztec Public Records. Once recorded, the judgment took priority over every other claim.
As the New World was colonized, England eventually surpassed Spain as the leading colonizer. England began sending all of its criminals and thieves to the New World. This mass dumping of lawyers to Northern America would come back to haunt England; eventually the grandchildren of these pioneer lawyers would successfully defeat King George III in the now famous King George III v. 100 Bags of Tea, 14 F. Supp 34 (Colonial Supreme Court 1783). England by this time was now dreadfully short of lawyers.
The new American lawyers exploited this shortfall and after a seven year legal war, defeated the British and created the United States, under the famous motto, 'All lawyers are created equal.'
England never forgot this lesson, and immediately stopped its practice of sending lawyers to the colonies. This policy left Australia woefully deficient in lawyers.
With stories of legal success common in the late 1700s, more and more people attempted to become lawyers. This process of stealing a shingle worried the more successful lawyers. To stem this tide as well as to create a new profit center, these lawyers passed laws requiring all future lawyers to be restricted from practice unless they went to an approved law school. The model school from which all legal education rules developed was Harvard Law School.
Established in 1812, Harvard set the standard for legal education, in 1816, when it created the standardized system for legal education. This system was based on the Socratic method. At most universities, the students questioned the teacher/professor to gain knowledge. These students would then bill their law professors and if the bill went unfulfilled the students usually strung up their law professor for failure to fulfill the bill. At Harvard the tables were turned, with the law professors billing the students. This method enriched the law professors and remains the standard in use in most law schools in America and England today.
Following the Harvard method, law students now take a standard set of courses: 1. Jurisprudence: The history of legal billing, from early Greek and Roman billing methods to modern collection techniques; 2. Torts: A French law term for 'you get injury, we keep 40%.' Teaches students ambulance chasing techniques; 3. Contracts: Emphasizes the fact that despite an agreement between two parties (the contract), a lawsuit can still be brought; 4. Civil Procedure: Teaches the tricky arcane rules of court, which were modernized only 150 years ago in New York; 5. Criminal law: Speaks for itself.
These courses continue to be used in most law schools throughout the United States.
Despite the restrictions imposed on the practice of law, a four year college degree, three years of graduate school, and a state sponsored examination, the quantity of lawyers continue to increase to the point that three out of every five Americans are lawyers.(10)
Every facet of life today is controlled by lawyers. Even Dan Quayle (a lawyer married to a lawyer, and former Vice-President of the United States) claims, surprise, that there are too many lawyers.
Yet until limits are imposed by legal birth control, the number of lawyers will continue to increase. Is there any hope? We don't know and frankly don't care, since the author of this book is a successful, wealthy lawyer, the publishers of this book are lawyers, the cashier at the book store is a law student, and your mailman is a lawyer. So instead of complaining, join us! Remember, there is no such thing as a one lawyer town.
1. See Johnson, Dr., Mark, "Lawyers in the Mist?", Science Digest, May 1990, pp. 43 - 52.
2. Leakey, Margaret A., "The Case of the Erectus Hominid", Legal Anthropology, March 1947, pp. 153.
3. See Widget, Dr., John B., "Did Cro-Magnon have better lawyers?", Natural History, June 1926, pp. 135. See also Cook, Benjamin, Very Very Early Land Use Cases, Legal Press, 1953.
4. With life expectancy between 25 and 30 years, and the death penalty imposed for all offenses, most clients died shortly after their case was resolved.
5. Harrison, Franklin D., The Rosetta Bill, Doubleday, 1898.
6. Wilson, Phillips ed., Famous Roman Cases, Houghton, Mifflin, 1949.
7. His murder was the subject of a play by William Shakespeare. When Caesar discovered that one of his murderers was his law partner Brutus, he murmured the immortal words, 'Et tu Brute', which can be loosely translated form Latin as 'My estate keeps twice the billings.'
8. Posner v Blackstone 11 RS 345 (Queens Bench 1754).
9. These movies include Dracula, Esq., The Bill of Death, It Came From the Grave (To Collect Its Bill), and the classic, Blood of Res Ipsa Loquitur.
10. In fact, there are more than 750,000 lawyers in this country today. Seems that truth is stranger than fiction.
Thanks to Alan for this classic

The Pope and Julius Malema are on the same stage in front of a huge crowd. The Pope leans towards Julius and says, "Do you know that with one little wave of my hand I can make every person in this crowd go wild with joy? This joy will not be a momentary display, like that of your followers, but go deep into their hearts and they'll forever speak of this day and rejoice!"
Julius replied, "I seriously doubt that. With one little wave of your hand? Show me."
So the Pope slapped him.
Found by Walter
There is usually only a limited amount of damage that can be done by dull or stupid people. For creating a truly monumental disaster, you need people with high IQs
Thomas Sowell
As lots of people seems to be excited about today being the 140th anniversary of the birth of Gandhi...
This humble Indian leader not only changed the direction of his country, but also transformed the entire world with his message of love, peace and non-violence
yet I am minded to recall Sir Winston's words to the West Essex Conservatives on February 23, 1930
It is alarming and also nauseating to see Mr. Gandhi, a seditious Middle Temple lawyer, now posing as a fakir of a type well known in the East, striding half-naked up the steps of the Vice Regal palace, while he is still organising and conducting a campaign of civil disobedience, to parley on equal terms with the representative of King-Emperor

Sir
I my way home this evening I saw my first set of skis this autumn

Is this a record?

After a freak accident on Silverstone Racetrack involving Jensen Button’s Honda, Splodge passed away on 14th July 2007, aged 2. The beloved son of Nigel and Sally Hedgehog, Splodge was born on 29th April 2005. He was educated at Herts College, where he took an NVQ in joinery. Very popular in the hedgerows of Hertfordshire, Splodge loved indulging his hobbies of rollerblading and kite-flying. His next of kin, Pop the Weasel, will be holding a private ceremony for close friends at Moors Farm, Bracklebury, on 23rd July 2007. Bread and milk will be laid on.
Curriculum Vitae
Name: Splodge
Occupation: Hedgehog
Date of Birth: 29/04/2005
Education: NVQ in joinery from Herts College
Skills: Eating peas and blowing them out through his nose.
Hobbies: Rollerblading and socialising
Certificate of Death
Date of birth: 29/04/2005
Date of death: 14/07/2007
Place of death: Silverstone Racetrack
Cause of death: Jensen Button, in his Formula 1 Honda.
Next of kin: Pop the weasel
Last known address: An empty milk carton, outside the Lidl store, Sidcup
& you can buy Splodge here
From The Register
A BBC wildlife presenter has come off with a novel approach to saving the Giant Panda - don't bother. Chris Packham ...

... who is all set to present the BBC's flagship Autumnwatch program, said the cuddly but rather useless Asian bears, whose diet of bamboo shoots means they never store enough fat to hibernate properly, were soaking up conservation cash that could be better spent elsewhere.
"I reckon we should pull the plug. Let them go, with a degree of dignity," the no-nonsense conservationist told Radio Times.
He condemned the ursine freeloaders as "T-shirt animals" saying "Here's a species that, of its own accord, has gone down an evolutionary cul-de-sac. It's not a strong species. Unfortunately, pandas are big and cute and a symbol of the World Wildlife Fund."
Warming to his theme, Packham said we could take a similar attitude to other species - with civil servants top of his list.
"Go into the Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs with a flamethrower and torch all of the stupid bureaucracy that dogs our farmers," he ranted. "Let's start organising fair pricing for UK farmers."
In fact, said Packham, he'd like to see the entire human race extinct: "No question. That's the only one."
Which is certainly an option. But short of genocide, Packham will have to settle for boring humans to death with the latest series of Autumnwatch, which will be kicking off sometime later in this season of mellow fruitfulness
More myrth & general merriment from the Rhodesian Government in Exile (RGiE):
THE SEARCH FOR A "NEW MANDELA"
Following rumours that the U.N. is not exactly falling all over itself, however accustomed they might be to doing so in times of crisis, and basically at all other times, to look favourably upon the RGiE's application to be allowed representation and have someone address the General Assembly in full uniform and with a gun on his hip, the recent parliamentary debate focussed on one crucial fact:
WE NEED OUR OWN MANDELA! A "RHODELA"!
Study groups were hurriedly set up to address this problem, ministers scurried back and forth and fifth through the bar, quizzing each other on the requirements a Rhodela would have to meet. Some just looked quizzical and complained that word of the debate hadn't reached the bar in time and who was running the quiz anyway and what was the main prize? On hearing that no prizes were being handed out these stalwarts just muttered "Ag ja, well, no fine" and went back to discussing beer.
More conscientious ministers were concocting a short list of the requirements a Rhodela would have to meet. By noon and recess for lunch, the list was still disturbingly short. A consensus was reached on the following:
1. The ideal candidate must be a former Marxist-trained terrorist, as these have always been the darlings of the U.N., especially if they never actually achieved their aims and got caught in the process of achieving zilch.
2. The candidate must have spent the better part of his life in prison for trying to overthrow a goverment, and be married to a homicidal maniac with a sadistic streak a mile wide, preferably in possession of her own football team, and with a penchant for unusual necklaces from the Good Year factory.
3. The candidate must look suitably wise by virtue of having grey hair, be able to do some sort of traditional white dance that won't endanger ageing bones and limbs, and be able to grin bemusedly at official functions as if oozing wisdom along with a modicum of dribble.
4. The candidate would have to be bosom buddies with all the dictatorial Marxist leaders of the world, specifically those whose countries hadn't quite been able to make the leap forward into the 19th century yet, and have no intention of ever doing so if they can help it, and providing Obama obliges and leaves them alone to keep on doing the old "one step forward, three steps backward" routine, all the while making the world safe for democracy.
5. The candidate would have to possess nerves of steel and be able to keep a poker face while making speeches about how these countries are beacons of hope for civilisation and shining models of human rights and equality.
6. The candidate would have to find a way to increase crime by 1000% in the liberated area already governed by the RGiE. This could only be achieved by sending the Sheriff and his deputies off on their long-awaited vacation to Hawaii, and then letting nature take its course and relying on government officials to do what they do best...
Despite hours of brainstorming and much leafing through back issues of the New Salisbury Herald, the ministers were unable to come up with any further requirements, pointing out that the role model doesn't seem to have actually ever done anything. Despite aching brains, a short list of candidates was hurriedly drawn up and interviewed.
The following were struck from the list as being unsuitable:
The Minister of Defence was unable to avoid foaming at the mouth when requested to make a speech complimenting Castro's Cuba as a model of democracy, plus he rejected the idea of spending a quick few years in prison to meet the requirements as Claudia might get married when he wasn't looking, and then on hearing that this was already a fait accompli with bun an' all, he departed for the darkest corner of the bar accompanied by a bottle of 12-year old malt, muttering darkly about fickle wimmin...
The Minister of African Affairs was seen to visibly blanche and go grey around the gills even when asked to hold forth on the virtues of a rainbow nation. Furthermore when asked to describe the contributions of African civilization to mankind his voice went up several octaves and he was unable to keep a poker face. His assertion that rolling on the floor laughing hysterically should not automatically disqualify him for the role was dismissed.
The RGiE's medical officer seemed a likely candidate when he proved able to hold forth eloquently on all subjects, but was reluctantly stricken from the list after he kept insisting on all-expenses paid trips to Brazil and Hawaii to interview nubile ethnic candidates for his staff, all of whom would have to meet his requirement of only just having attained voting age. The other requirements he mentioned were not considered suitable for mention in public, though it was noticed that a number of other ministers were wholeheartedly in agreement with him on the finer points staff members would have to prominently display in their role as bosom buddies, all two of them and both of them also too, two being the minimum of fine points required on display...
The Minister of Home Affairs (and horseless Deputy Sheriff) at first appeared the ideal candidate in view of his grey hairs and devil-may-care-I-sure-as-hell-don't attitude towards possibly dying in the line of duty while traipsing through the hallowed halls of the U.N. trying to find an assembly to address or just trying to find an address for an assembly at which to dissemble, but he too was reluctantly stricken from the list when he kept on about needing a good supply of "Trojans" for the job. The other ministers were not entirely convinced by his protestations that they were transport appliances and not for external appendages, one gross, wimmin, for the pursuance of.
A tentative application by one of the opposition members was decisively dismissed despite his efforts to proclaim himself the life and soul of the party, even if he didn't actually have one, being an independent, and despite his loud claims to be the only objective person in the entire establishment. One of the interviewing ministers proclaimed "When we're standing at the bar we all have the same objects in hand and the same objective in mind, especially when Bambi's dancing, so eff off...!"
The search for a suitable candidate will continue
... he managed to attract a spectacular young blonde woman. Things progressed to the point where he invited her back to his apartment and, after some small talk, they retired to his bedroom where he rattled her senseless.
After a pleasant interlude he asked with a smile, "So, you finish?"
She paused for a second, frowned, and replied, "No."
Surprised, Jean-Franco reached for her and the rattling resumed. This time she thrashed about wildly and there were screams of passion.
The sex finally ends and, again, Jean-Franco smiles and asks, "You finish?"
Again, after a short pause, she returns his smile, cuddles closer to him and softly says, "No."
Stunned, but damned if he was going to leave this woman unsatisfied, Jean-Franco reaches for the woman yet again. Using the last of his strength, he barely manages it, but they end together screaming, bucking, clawing and ripping the bed sheets. Exhausted, Jean-Franco falls onto his back, gasping. Barely able to turn his head, he looks into her eyes, smiles proudly and asked again, "You finish?"
Barely able to speak, the beautiful blond whispers in his ear, "No, I Norwegian".

As headlines go, whilst it isn't up there with Freddy Starr Ate My Hamster, its definately a good effort for a Monday night
Common sense should have warned Robert Jones that this narrow cliffside path was no place for a BMW. But with his satellite-navigation system shrilly insisting it was the way, he just kept driving – until the car hit a fence and became stuck perilously close to a 100ft drop. Yesterday Jones, 43, was found guilty of driving without due care and attention. He is thought to be the first person punished for slavishly following a satnav’s orders

To be honest, this is pretty much the standard of driving I have come to expect from BMW owners over the years. At least they are now getting punished for it

HARARE. Undead Zimbabwean president Robert Mugabe is reportedly receiving medical treatment in Dubai after coming into contact with holy water and garlic. According to Mugabe's surgeons, the 85-year-old sustained third-degree burns from the water after a demon-hunter doused him in it while he was sucking the immortal soul from a baby in a sewer.
Mugabe has been largely ignored by the international media in recent months, mainly because he has been sleeping in a box in a crypt, reportedly to allow Zimbabwe's malnourished citizens to grow fresh blood.
According to the United Nations, Mugabe's undead demon-sleep has allowed Zimbabwe's economy to be upgraded from Completely Destroyed to only Catastrophically Compromised.
Global leaders have also praised Prime Minister Morgan Tsvangirai, appointed by Mugabe because he has the word "fang" in his surname, and say that as long as he can prevent Mugabe from biting him in the face in the next few years, Zimbabwe could soon gain Almost Failed State status.
However this morning it emerged that Mugabe was in a private clinic in Dubai, receiving treatment for severe burns sustained after he was doused with holy water and exposed to garlic.
Asked why Mugabe opted to travel to Dubai instead of seeking help at a Zimbabwean hospital, an aide explained that Zimbabwean hospitals no longer had certain key pieces of medical equipment such as doors, walls, or roofs.
Staff at the exclusive clinic were tight lipped about Mugabe's current condition, believed to be "stable but evil", but a statement released this morning confirmed that he had been severely burned by holy water after being "interrupted during a meal" in a sewer by a freelance demon-hunter.
"Mr Mugabe was sitting down to orally remove the immortal soul of an unnamed infant through its jugular when he was cynically ambushed by a reactionary imperialist occultist," read the statement.
It confirmed that Mugabe had suffered extensive burns, mostly to his large leathery wings, and that he had also suffered severe garlic poisoning, but it went on to reassure Zimbabweans that Mugabe would be "right as rain after a good sleeps in his favourite pine box".
In response, Zimbabweans said, "Yay."
Found by Alan
I honour of the British Medical Association we continue our morning with this one from the vaults. I feel pretty comprehensively covers a topic very close to my heart ... liver ... & kidneys

Upon stepping into the office this morning, I had two different people remind me what day it is. 'It's Friday' they spouted, as if they had just unveiled some hidden truth about life - no sh1t it's Friday, believe it or not I have a vague understanding of the passing of time, and keep myself moderately aware of what day in the week it is. But thanks anyway, lest I forgot and had the horrible misfortune of thinking it was Thursday. Could you imagine? The horror.
So what does Friday really mean? Why do people feel the need to tell you what day it is? I don't recall many occasions where an excited employee nudged me with a pointy elbow to remind that it was, in fact, Tuesday. 'Dude, it's Tuesday, sweet.'
Well, the reason is most of us hate our jobs, and Friday is our welcome respite from the soul sh1tting grind that is the working week. And what do most of us do on a Friday night? Drink. Self-medicate. Salute ourselves for another listless week by flooding our central nervous system with what is essentially poison. Before you think me some finger pointing parade rainer, please know that I love, love the poison.
So we drink, letting our horrid memories of pointless meetings, inane office banter, the sound of the printer spitting out the dead carcasses of our beloved, oxygen giving trees just so everyone in the office can read yet another idiotic memo from the CEO reminding us all of the importance of 'hammering the phones' (this ass-clown refuses, refuses to email the memos, declaring that it's much more 'personal' when it's tangible, in your hand, and you're reading it. Note to cock-smoke, no one reads them anyway, you'd have a better shot at getting us to look at a feces-smeared scrap of notebook paper and sticking that on our desks, you raging, insufferable, overpaid mental midget.) By the way, why couldn't someone have told me that the phone would be such a huge part of corporate life? I don't remember hearing in college, by the way, 89% of you will make a living by incessantly calling uninterested parties via the telephone and trying like holy hell to get them to purchase something you yourself don't even understand or believe in, enjoy, you're doing yeoman work!
So, we drink, we drink to wash it all away, to silence the demons that fester in our skulls Monday through Friday, that feed off our collective apathy as we whither away in front of the true idiot box (the computer has officially taken over the T.V as the single most contributing factor in the decline of modern civilization, causing at the very least eye damage, and the worst, total and complete mental breakdowns. If Google's pop-up blocker didn't come around, I'd be serving 25 to life right now for some sort of reprehensible crime).
So we drink, we drink to forget and to forgive. To forget the past 5 days, and forgive ourselves for what we're about to do in the next two. To forgive ourselves for not becoming what we always dreamed. To forgive ourselves the rampant complacency that has taken a hold of us as we watch our lives slip away, one company-wide email at a time.
So we drink. Like rabbits f*ck, we drink, from close of business to close of bar, we imbibe enough alcohol in one sitting in the vain, fruitless attempt to carve out just a smidgen of fun in an this suddenly barren, bleak, pale existence we call our lives.
Okay, I think I'm getting a bit too depressing. It's Friday after all, as I was just reminded by Kelly, our sales engineer, as I was typing this. Actually, I should be clearer, she said, 'Hey hun, T.G.I.F, right?' I should have replied 'L.O.L Kelly, hopefully we both get a little T.L.C tonight, oh, B.T.W, f-off.'
Kelly's a nice girl; I shouldn't take this out on her.
So we drink. Like Republicans lie or Democrats waiver, we drink; we drink more than Market Street smells. We drink more than the Muni line 30, 41, and 45 through Chinatown blows. We drink more than Ted Kennedy's third liver could ever hope to possibly expunge. We drink because we can. We drink because we must.
Now of course, there are some of you out there who like their jobs. A few who dare use the word 'love.' But you're not reading this, b/c you're busy doing what you enjoy, not scouring CL for something or someone to buy/sell/trade/dump/f*ck/rant/rave/find/steal/lie to/lie about/and all other things Craig.
We drink because Katie, our manager, is so insecure she actually makes breathing awkward.
We drink because Bruce, the VP of being a incredible ass-face (and Biz-Dev) insists upon wearing enough cologne to the point where lighting a match anywhere near him is potentially life threatening.
We drink because Michael, the homophobic advertising guy, gets all red in the face if you call him 'Mike'. So of course, we call him Mike often, cutting off the 'e' at the end to emphasize the point that we're really, really enjoying it.
We drink because if we have to endure one more Friday afternoon meeting, we might just projectile vomit in Kevin's glandular, gnome like face. Just because you don't have a life doesn't mean the rest of us want to sit down at 4:45 on a Friday to discuss the company's direction for Q3. You see Jeff's left eye twitching? I'd give this meeting another 3 minutes before he reaches across the table and pulls one of your ears off, Kev. The man's in a custody battle for his children and you're taking time away from his weekend with them because you're a selfish, horrible man. And if Kevin does blow, you can bet your ass Mitch, the North West sales manager will. I swear that guy starts off cooking some chicken by biting their heads off. Do you hear his unending finger tapping on the faux-marble table? Notice how the pace quickens every few minutes? Well Kev, you've got a few more seconds of being a bullsh1t blowhard until Mitch pulls your heart of your f'ing chest.
We drink because there's no such thing as a good week of work.
We drink because if Jessica doesn't say, 'this is a mission critical decision' at least 4 times a week, it means she was out sick three days. Jessica, it's an office supply order for Staples, how in HOLY HELL is that mission critical? Do you even know what mission critical means? Do you? You're the office manager, not the board chairman, the phrase 'mission critical' should never, EVER come out of your mouth. It's a stapler, not a funding request, chill out.
We drink because there is no such thing as a uni-sex bathroom. It's a girls bathroom people. You wonder why us guys leave the office at least twice to three times a day, not including lunch? It's because we have to sh1t, and we can't very well sh1t in that veritable Globe Theatre of a restroom, where every sound is amplified ten fold. The one time I just had to go (note to Jessica, now that was a mission critical decision) and simply couldn't make it to the hotel across the street (those people must have caught on that I'm not staying there, considering they see me every day) I took a sh1t in the uni-sex bathroom, and what ensued was an anal-philharmonic, led by yours truly, in which the entire office was privy to every fart, grunt, and bowel-related sound effect I had to offer. I felt like taking a bow when I got out, possibly chugging some coffee and going in for an encore. So no, it's not uni-sex, it's a girl's room. You might as well stick a huge tampon on the door with a note reading 'No Y Chromosomes allowed'. Oh, and Regina, I salute your utter shamelessness when it comes to sh1tting. I've never, ever seen a women carry the paper under arm when she walks into the bathroom. Truly, classic stuff.
We drink because we know Ted's gay, the whole office knows Ted's gay, Ted's friends and family know Ted's gay, and we're pretty sure at this point Ted must be vaguely aware he's gay, yet he still insists upon talking about all the 'hot ass' he 'tags' over the weekend. Note to Ted, it's not working amigo, when you can recite more show tunes than Nancy, who worked on Broadway in Manhattan for 4 years, well, it's time to take the jaws of life to that closet door and step out into the world the way you were intended.
Thing is Ted, everyone likes you, you're good people, and coming out won't change that, it will simply save us from the intensely awkward experience of suffering through one of your bullsh1t 'she was so hot and then we did this and that' stories. How come we never see this girls Ted? How come they never call, never email, and what's that stain on your shirt? It doesn't look like mayo.
We drink because we all know that 'lunch and learn' really means this will be the worst lunch you'll have all week as we're forced to share low-rent burritos at Chevy's and listen to some hired-gun of a sales guy tell us all how we have to 'want it' more than the other guy. Hey Chet, this is software sales, not rugby, now fooooook off.
We drink because Amanda in finance is hot, and Tom in HR thinks he's going to bang her, and as God in heaven is my witness, if he does I will completely shut down and cry myself to sleep, because Tom in HR is quite possibly a larger d-bag than Kevin, and should he bed Amanda, well, then..nothing is right in the world. We drink because we're afraid that might happen, and we drink because we're too afraid to talk to Amanda, save for the pathetic 'warm today' comment we threw at her on Tuesday. No sh1t it's warm today, she too must come from outside like the rest of us, it's not as if she wakes up, showers, than steps in her transporter and beams herself to work. She goes outside too, you phuque. And by you, I mean me.
We drink because we're almost positive Brett and Stu are get stoned at lunch, and we're pissed they haven't invited us along yet.
We drink because the last time someone said something funny at work it was completely unintentional, and it revolved around a Freudian slip when Kev, at the end of one of his marathon Friday meetings, was trying to answer Mitch's constant interjections over our marketing budget but also trying to keep Brian quiet and ended up trying to speak to them both at the same time, calling Mitch 'bitch'. Hilarious. The fact that Kev survived that meeting is a testament to the fact that he's like a cockroach, and could survive anything. A nuclear holocaust ensues, we're all dead and there will be Kevin, holding court in a Friday afternoon meeting with three charred corpses and half a human head, wondering aloud where everybody is?
We drink because calling our work weekend in Reno a 'retreat' is an oxymoron. It's not a retreat, it's an assault, an assault on everything we hold dear - how DARE you ask me to give up a weekend to go to a conference with the whole company in Reno. I'd rather eat Kevin's sh1t. Okay, that's a little too far. I'd rather throw sh1t at Kevin. Actually, come to think about, throwing sh1t at Kevin would be kinda high on my list of things to do over a weekend.
We drink because Shelly has now tried to arrange four different happy hour get togethers and the only one who shows up is Kelly and Mitch, and the only reason Mitch shows up is because he's a drunk. We drink at some other bar, out of sadness for Shelly. And Mitch.
We drink because the thought of Monday is enough to make us cry.
And finally, we drink because in the end, when it's all said and done, we have much to celebrate. We are lucky enough to have the luxury of bitching about corporate jobs and cubes and the bullsh1t office when you consider the state of affairs for most of this planet's inhabitants, every day a true struggle, food and a roof over their heads never a certainty, but rather something they strive for. We drink because in the end, we're lucky, spoiled, pampered brats, we know it.
We drink because we can.
We drink because we have to.
Shamelessly right clicked from here & reproduced without permission.
Discovered by Gweilicus

Features: Fine timber details, 4 leadlight options, 4 side access doors (there is maximum frontal display), adjustable shelves are extra deep to accommodate large items, halogen down lights, mirror back with glass shelves provide max illumination of collectables from top to bottom.
To give indication of size of the Cabinet it previously held the following:
THE ASHES
Rugby League World Cup
Rugby Union World Cup
International Rules Trophy
Tri Nations Trophy
Super-12 Trophy
Trans-Tasman Touch Football Trophy
Davis Cup
Hockey World Championship Trophy
and the Bledisloe Cup.
All these trophies are now overseas and the cabinet is excess to requirements. To make an offer call R Stuart, R Ponting, S Mortlock or P. Fitzsimons who once commented:
"…the Australian Cabinet is groaning under the weight of all the trophies!"
Contact any of the above on: 1800-LOST-THE-LOT
PRETORIA. White South Africans have offered to sign a blanket confession, accepting blame for all current and future setbacks in the country, from non-delivery by the ANC to European athletics officials doing gender tests, in the interests of more efficient government and to save precious time and tax money being wasted on paranoid racist witch-hunts.
The decision follows the latest statements by government, implying that white South Africans were racist for not going to O.R. Tambo International Airport to cheer returning athletes.
According to a spokesman for white South Africans, it was time for whites to "cut to the chase" and to accept blame for everything, ever, from now until the end of time, in the interests of efficient government.
"Service delivery is being derailed because senior ministers are being forced to spend so much time trying to find new ways of pinning their failures on whites," explained spokesman Whitey Cracker-Blanco. "Which is the fault of the whites, if you think about it."
He said that a recent study had revealed that blaming whites was the second largest consumer of ministers' time, after rolling around in the Treasury vault and giving each other high fives. Service delivery was 14th on the list, just behind hot rock treatments and being measured for ill-fitting suits.
"Whites are desperate to contribute to this society," explained Cracker-Blanco, "but they find themselves demonized by their government at almost every turn.
"Which is why accepting all blame for everything ever is a really great compromise: we speed up service delivery by minimizing finger-pointing, and we don't confuse or upset the government because God forbid anyone in government should ever have to think."
Cracker-Blanco said that South African whites were still working out which crimes they were currently guilty of, and which they were likely to commit in the future, but he said it was likely that whites would "cop to pretty much everything".
"It's a historical fact that we started World War 1 and World War 2," he said. "Okay, not us personally, but that's a distinction this government can't seem to make."
He said that local whites "deeply regretted" their current activities in Darfur, Iraq and the West Bank, but added that they might have stayed at home and not gone on genocidal rampages if the SABC starting making watchable television.
"We'd obviously also like to accept full responsibility for the break-up of the ANC in the next ten years," he said. "When they finally disintegrate amid turf wars and clique squabbles, and the whole thing bogs down in a swamp of graft, sleaze and the odd political assassination, we just want to say: mea culpa. We should have done more."
He also apologized for global warming – "If only we hadn't had so many braais" – and said that whites "truly regretted" causing the inevitable cooling of our sun, the collapse of our solar system, and the ultimate disintegration of the Universe.
JOHANNESBURG. Julius Malema has staged a stunning comeback after being initially outpaced by the Young Communists League in the ongoing rhetoric around South African athlete Caster Semenya. The YCL had made the early running by blaming a racist conspiracy by "the white race", but Malema has made up good ground with his own racist statement.
On Thursday the YCL set the early pace with a blistering attack on "the white race", saying that a decision to test Semenya's gender "smacks of racism of the highest order".
The YCL was widely quoted in national media as saying that the test "represents a mentality of conforming feminine outlook within the white race".
Nobody in South Africa is entirely sure what this statement means, least of all the YCL policy director who wrote it by throwing darts at a thesaurus.
The ANC Youth League's Julius Malema acknowledged that it had been an impressive start by the YCL, but vowed to catch up. Last night he officially entered the race with his own racist conspiracy theory, which was exactly the same as the YCL's except slightly less coherent.
According to Malema, international athletics officials did not value the contributions made by Africans to the Olympics and other global events which was "why they start [sic] this racist attack on this beautiful woman, well built, well-relaxed [sic]".
Asked if he had ever noticed that every track medal at every Olympics since the 1980s had been won either by an African or someone of African origin, Malema asked journalists not to confuse him with the facts.
He also declined to explain what a "well-relaxed" woman was.
Neither Malema nor the YCL were able to explain how the racist white race had allowed Kenyans, Ethiopians, and Eritreans to win a total of 12 medals in Berlin, while also permitting black stars from Jamaica, the United States and the Caribbean to claim dozens of medal. However they both said that they were figuring it out.
Meanwhile both parties have conceded that they will probably keep driving the luxury sedans manufactured by the white race in Germany, but said they do so with a heavy heart at the injustice of it all.
Asked if either the ANCYL or the YCL were going to be censured for their racist smears, government spokesman Sideshow Khumalo laughed and said, "Oh dear, oh my goodness no, how quaint!"
"How many times do we have to tell you?" he said. "If a white person criticizes Africa, it is racism. If an African criticizes a white person, it is democracy. Okay? Got it?"
At the end of a tiny deserted bar in Liverpool sat a Scouser. He was having a few beers, when a short, well dressed, and obviously homosexual man walked in and sat beside him...
After three or four beers, the gay man got the courage to say a few words to the Scouser.
Leaning over towards him, he whispered, "Do you want a blow job?"
At this, the Scouser leaped up with fire in his eyes, and smacked the sh1t out of the gay man, knocking him swiftly off his stool. He proceeded to beat him all the way out of the bar, before leaving him bruised and battered in the car park, and returned to his seat.
Amazed, the barman quickly brought over another beer to the Scouser, and said, "I've never seen you react like that. What did he say to you?"
"I don't know," the Scouser replied. "Something about a job."
A thrilling summer of terrible cricket reached its climax yesterday as England regained the Ashes by being marginally less dreadful than Australia. Somehow.Andrew Strauss's men stormed to a resounding victory at the Oval, with many claiming the England squad could now take its place in cricketing history as one of the best awful teams ever assembled.
The Queen led the tributes saying: "Your victory continues the proud tradition of British sportsmen being not quite as catastrophically bad at something as someone else.
"You have all played very poorly for much of the summer but showed great strength and fortitude by standing around and watching Australia being even worse. And, let's be honest, who would have guessed that? Not me, for starters. I owe the Duke of York eighty quid and he's a bloody golfer."
More from the Daily Mash
For some women, it's easy to find bras that fit in styles they like. But many others aren't so lucky, spending endless time and money in search of that elusive perfect style and fit.

The underwire bra is designed to provide additional lift.
Underwire can be found in many different styles of bras.
Some women swear by their underwire and others find them very uncomfortable.
One way to determine if this is a style of bra that will work for you is to give it a try...... such as this young Parisian

or this Liverpudlian...

I have just had a call from a very well known charity asking me to donate my old clothes to starving Africans, I told them to bugg*r off because anyone that fits into my clothes cetainly isn't starving.
Found by Alan

A wave of the fat capitalist cigar to Peter for finding this

Although not, this could be London especially when that uber-Commie Ken Livingstone was mayor & he deliberately had traffic lights programmed out of sequence because among so many other things, he hated private car ownership & he wanted to screw around with drivers. He wasn’t known as Red Ken for nothing: may he die slowly & in pain
From Suzie (who for the avoidance of any doubt is blond)...
A blonde calls her boyfriend and says, "Please come over here and help me. I have a killer jigsaw puzzle, and I can't figure out how to get started."
Her boyfriend asks, "What is it supposed to be when it's finished?"
The blonde says, "According to the picture on the box, it's a rooster."
Her boyfriend decides to go over and help with the puzzle. She lets him in and shows him where she has the puzzle spread all over the table. He studies the pieces for a moment, then looks at the box, then turns to her and says,
"First of all, no matter what we do, we're not going to be able to assemble these pieces into anything resembling a rooster."
He takes her hand and says, "Second, I want you to relax. Let's have a nice cup of tea, and then .." he said with a deep sigh ...
"Let's put all the Corn Flakes back in the box."


As Gweilicus who found this went on to remark, rocket scientists one & all
The latest edition of The Chap is now out

With articles such as Underpants - are they a force for good or the harbingers of evil? it is recommended summer reading. Your man can avail you of an edition from one of these one of these reputable stockists
(Some of the ones under the fold are probably NWS)

A big earthquake with the strength of 8.1 on the Richter scale has hit Pakistan. Two million Pakistanis have died and over a million are injured. The country is totally ruined and the government doesn't know where to start with providing help to rebuild. The rest of the world is in shock.
The USA is sending troops to help...
Saudi Arabia is sending oil.
Latin American countries are sending supplies.
New Zealand is sending sheep, cattle and food crops.
The Asian continents are sending labor to assist in rebuilding infrastructure.
Australia is sending medical teams and supplies.
Britain , not to be outdone, is sending two million replacement Pakistanis. God Bless British generosity.
Re-discovered by DB

In fact, why not? After all, they do tend to have unpleasant table manners & interesting skin conditions brought on by the combination of an atrocious diet & too much sata-lout TV

& in the words of the late David Coleman, presenter for many years of A Question of Sport: "Errrrrrrrrrrrr.....& what happened next?"
Found by HR
From Mostly Cajun, via AJDS
I used to be quite a bicyclist myself, so I keep at least a peripheral track of the biggest bicycle race on the planet, the Tour de France. The race has quite a history, and Lance Armstrong has done the US proud in winning several times in recent years. Here’s a rare thing though, a rare colour picture of a historic (1940) Tour de France

Spectators cheered as entire Cambodian Midget Fighting League squared off against African Lion
Yesterday we had Lobster Knife Fights, so I thought this morning, we could dust this one down again. Its a shame that its a spoof, but nonetheless, its still as funny as billy-o ...
The Cambodian Government allowed the fight to take place, under the condition that they receive a 50% commission on each ticket sold, and that no cameras would be allowed in the arena.
The fight was called in only 12 minutes, after which 28 fighters were declared dead, while the other 14 suffered severe injuries including broken bones and lost limbs, rendering them unable to fight back.
Continuing today's theme - reposted from January...
& to sustain us through today, I thought that we would have a little competition suggested by Reader MD who saw it on ARRSE. Anyway, its not one of those namby pamby describe your perfect day sort of competitions …oh no, its time to play …
Fantasy Genocide
which is a bit like Room 101, but with more screams of pain, terror & lots & lots of spent brass
Think of it a little like this: it’s the Glorious Day +5
you have been detailed to carry out a mass-killing before you could go weekenders. Who would you like most to see lined up along the lip of the trench awaiting a round in the back of the skull?
So dear readers, put a fresh mag into your Browning & its over to you
Millions of families will be hit with an extra £92 on their annual fuel bills to pay for a 'green energy revolution', ministers admitted yesterday. The levies will help pay for renewable energy to tackle climate change. But critics criticised the charges as 'stealth taxes', and warned that the true cost to households could be as high as £230 a year.
I found the following in a dark dusty corner of the Torygaphs website that was dealing with the destruction of our gardens by greedy property developers. Let’s just say that Abdul Afari possibly isn’t the authors real name...
I wish to defend John Prescott from unfounded attacks, he is a defender of fairness and equality. I understand his government’s latest economic model is Chad. There, apparently, everyone is equal as everyone has nothing.
Speaking as one of the many sheep in this country who have resolutely plodded behind John, Gordon and a series of flag waving politicians telling us that this country is a paradise and is the place to be, I would say that the in name of equality they have been so right. The plans for unbridled [property] development have bought about many great advances in equality.
Developing one’s back garden for example provides a solid link between the people and the political class. This is one of the few democratically supported avenues open to us today where non politicians can stuff their pockets with gold in a fashion that would make even a Home Secretary drool with envy. This is a true egalitarian measure, and we thank Gordon Brown, the Government and their civil servants for preserving it. It goes some way towards the removal of our democratic rights to control our affairs that now appears to be the preserve of a bunch of provincially accented Germans and a range of Frenchmen in somewhat ill fitting suits.
In addition. it is some small relief to me as I contemplate a future run by poorly educated mediocre administrators from sundry European countries for whom I am unable to vote, that the small square of England on which I am raising my family is of such value that it is the object of envy by native developers as well as sundry Eastern Europeans who now flock here in droves.
Indeed development has encouraged consumer expenditure on services, including the legions of prostitutes from Eastern Europe whose friendliness towards us despite our appalling dentistry and somewhat random attempts at hygiene have given them a special place in our hearts. Their ability to have the shape of women as opposed to disporting themselves like pears on legs in a thong dressed in catalogue tat as many of our native residents do is tremendously heartening and a massive improvement to the view on the High Street.
Finally I must come to development in the East End of London, a natural linguistic jewel where even I who am fluent in seven sub continental languages plus English and German am totally unable to understand what on earth is going on. I would visit more often, but I am afraid of being classified as an ethnic minority and being forced to fill in a wheelbarrow load of forms and take a large unwanted Government grant.
Here any development, apart from white elephant sporting stadia to be used for a fortnight’s fest of drug crazed egomaniacs running round in their pants for a living, would be welcome. Perhaps even the provision of rudimentary child protection services would be a huge step forward.
I remain madam,
Yours sincerely
Abdul Afari
At last Gordon Brown decided to throw the towel in and resign. His cabinet colleagues decided it would be a worthy gesture to name a railway locomotive after him. So a senior ‘Sir Humphrey’ went from Whitehall to the National Railway Museum at York, to investigate the possibilities.
“We have a number of locomotives at the NRM without names,” a specially-sought NRM consultant told the top civil servant. “Mostly freight locomotives though.”
“Oh dear, that’s not very fitting for a Prime Minister,” said Sir Humphrey. “How about that big green one, over there?” he said, pointing to no.4472...

“That’s already got a name” said the consultant. “It’s called ‘Flying Scotsman’.”
“Oh. Couldn’t it be renamed?” asked Sir Humphrey. “This is a national museum after all, funded by the taxpayer.”
“I suppose it might be considered,” said the NRM consultant. “After all the LNER renamed a number of their locomotives after directors of the company, and even renamed one of them Dwight D Eisenhower.”
“That’s excellent”, said Sir Humphrey, “So that’s settled then. Let’s look at renaming 4472. But how much will it cost? We can’t spend too much, given the expenses scandal!”
Well, said the consultant, “We could always just paint out the ‘F’”

A fat capitalist cigar for EX-STAB for finding this
In recent days, several new developments have come to light in favour of the theory that Michael Jackson has Staged his own death and pulled off the greatest Hoax of the Century. As we are already aware, the several inconsistencies surrounding his ‘death’ have opened our eyes to the fact that we are not being told the whole story
The conspiracy theories pile up, including the ‘disappearance of the coffin’ nonsense even though the LA Times has photographic evidence of what fans & family did with the body
Recently Michelle Obama went to serve food to the homeless at a government funded soup kitchen...
Cost of a bowl of soup at homeless shelter ... $0.00 dollars
Having Michelle Obama Serve you your soup ... $0.00 dollars

Snapping a picture of a homeless person who is receiving government funded meal while taking a picture of the first lady using his $500 Blackberry cell phone... $$$$ Priceless
Found by Martin
Suddenly the sky clouded above his head and, in a booming voice, the Lord said,
"Because you have TRIED to be faithful to me in all ways, I will grant you one wish."
The man said, "Build a bridge to Hawaii so I can drive over anytime I want."
The Lord said, "Your request is very materialistic. Think of the enormous challenges for that kind of undertaking. The supports required to reach the bottom of the Pacific! The concrete and steel it would take! It will nearly exhaust several natural resources. I can do it, but it is hard for me to justify your desire for worldly things. Take a little more time and think of something that would honor and glorify me."
The man thought about it for a long time. Finally he said, "Lord, I wish that I could understand my wife. I want to know how she feels inside, what she's thinking when she gives me the silent treatment, why she cries, what she means when she says 'nothing's wrong,' and how I can make a woman truly happy."
The Lord replied, "You want two lanes or four on that bridge?"
OK, so it is Wimbledon at the moment which is sadly another great summer tradition that we no longer attend because it is now overrun with corporate sponsorship & the chavistas. Therefore I resign myself to watching a few matches from the comfort of the sofa of sloth & even then, I feel my interest start to wane a couple of nano-seconds after Maria Sharapova was knocked out.

At least this morning, the Daily Mash brought us heartening news from South West London
The All-England Tennis Club has scrapped its traditional rules in a bid to preserve centre court for pretty Russian girls with pert buttocks, instead of the ox-like munters who win most of the time. In the new version of tennis, sylph-like maidens will have a playful knockabout for an hour or so and make soft moaning noises when striking the ball.

Between sets they will rub oil into each others thighs and at the end of the match will congratulate each other with a wet, lingering, tongue-filled kiss. The umpire will be replaced by a 1970s comedy smut actor such as Robin Askwith, who will abandon the traditional scoring and instead say 'cor blimey' every time a player bends over to touch some balls.
A spokesman said: "Basing women's tennis on skill and points has allowed it to become overrun with lesbians. And by lesbians I mean the snorting, big-armed sort that like KD Lang, not the excellent ones you get in pornography." He added: "Some of them are competent sportspersons, but shouldn't they really be in the TA or delivering furniture?"
Tennis fan Wayne Hayes, from Hitchin, said: "I bought a ticket last year and was horrified when this pair of man-hating heffers lumbered on and started belting the ball around like it was a testicle."
He added: "This new plan sounds very good. Maybe they could just go straight to the showers, which could be moved onto the pitch or whatever they call it. Then they could close the new roof so the CIA satellites can't see me touching myself."
Stocky, unattractive female players will still be allowed to participate in the tournament though their matches will be moved to a designated area of the carpark marked out with coats and nicknamed 'Monster Island'.
A few days ago I published the following apology over comments I had made likening Gordon Brown, Peter Mandelson & our Labour Government to a bunch of Nazis
I wish to make an unreserved retraction of those comments because it is now clear to me that Prime Minister Gordon Brown’s cabinet & government bears no resemblance that of Nazi Germany’s
I would like to reiterate that apology once more this morning

Piccies from Peter & more of the same from Double Tapper

& to get you going how about... you are never caught short with the new short action xyz

& before anyone asks, megapussi translates from Finnish as large bag
Please feel free to publish suitable jokes in the comments section below
With his hair half-braided - and half in a huge bushy afro - Marcus T. Bailey could easily win an award for worst hair day of all time. The 25-year-old had been halfway through a visit to the barbershop when he stepped outside allegedly to sell crack cocaine to two addicts. What he didn't know was that police were waiting for him and promptly hauled him off.
The result was this extraordinary mugshot which shows off his unconventional hairstyle in all its glory. Bailey teamed his new look with a rather sulky pout. Police say they recovered about 21 grams of cocaine from his car in Evansville, Indiana.
Again dear readers let us set matters of taste firmly to one side in a similar manner to which the box’eads spurn any semblance of dress sense. Once great Britain might now be engulfed by political correctness, but like a debutants bra (up & out girls, up & out) tonight I fully propose to make light of incurable neuropsychiatric disorders – if you are in anyway offended by this, that is entirely your right as an offendee (eh? Ed) in exactly the same way as it is my right as an offendor to poke fun at sufferers of Tourettes Syndrome.
Whilst more than one person has commented that increasingly your humble correspondent suffers from a severe case of coprolalia (yes, that’s coprolalia – Google it!) that is nothing when you consider that these days a prerequisite of achieving high governmental office seems to be that you need to be a complete nutter, intellectual spastic, retard or preferably, combination of all three. Parliament isn’t so much a ship of fools as proof that Care in the Community simply doesn’t work.
Given that yesterday morning a well known investment bank now in public ownership informed me that I must be barking mad if I thought they were going to give me any more money after half a dozen man sized nightcaps, I had cause to ponder in somewhat hazy fashion that I too might actually be a sufferer.
Therefore in the light of these completely unfounded allegations ... aardvark ... I have spent a bit of time doing some research which has revealed some interesting & informative websites best of which was Tourette Syndrome which provides both information, support & a wide range of links to related sites.
However, upon closer inspection, it would appear that this site has the potential to provide one of the most amusing resources on the internet - yes, there it is on the page - the link to a Tourette Syndrome chat room ...! Oh yes, there is a God after all. Parp. Can you imagine the conversations??
Member 1: Woof
Member 2: F**K OFF!
Member 1: Woof woof
Member 3: F-F-F-F- F**KING W***KER
Member 1: Woof woof woof
Member 4: @*%&) #?^- ... etc etc etc
I mean, what is a moderator to do?? Wibble! During a busy time, it must resemble a cross between Battersea Dogs Home & your average soccer crowd but if for whatever reason my posting drops off this week, you know where you will be able to find me, not so much barking at the moon as howling at the screen on my laptop.
If I could get my hands on one of these, even I might be tempted to take up push biking

A wave of the fat capitalist cigar to Alan for finding it
Earlier this week I published what I thought at the time was a whimsical piece comparing the unelected First Secretary of State the Right Honourable the Lord Mandelson PC, with the democratically elected Adolf Hilter. I am deeply sorry & embarrassed to have compared British Labour Party of 2009 with the German National Socialist Party of 1939. I wish to make an unreserved retraction of those comments because it is now clear to me that Prime Minister Gordon Brown’s cabinet & government bears no resemblance that of Nazi Germany’s

I realise that such comparisons are completely incorrect, have no basis whatsoever in fact. The Policies that the Labour Party have pursued since 1997 have at no time sought to discriminate against certain sections of society to the advantage of others.

I therefore redact my previous erroneous comments without limitation & hereby undertake not to be nasty about law abiding politicians again. Not.
Take a picture of Peter 'Mandy' Mandelson such as this...

& photoshop on a Hilter moustache like this...

The results are way way too convincing for my liking

A wave of the fat capitalist cigar to Tomo for coming up with this one
First up we have the traditional cleft oak gate

next, that stalwart of the shires, the hooked 5 bar

now we mustn't forget the classic heavy braced crossed oak design

& finally something a little more contemporary...
... the galvanized Essex dogging gate

1. Drink a few glasses of something very dark & very peaty
2. Graft yourself on to the sofa of sloth to enjoy the BBC's fluffy bunny everything is cute & cuddly Springwatch programme & contemplate the cute & cuddly Kate Humble in lengthy & considerable detail

3. At the end of the programme, when they tell you that you can upload your cute & cuddly wildlife pictures on to their website, do so...

Children hungry? Well if you have made the mistake of giving Cook the evening off, phone for pizza like any normal person? Maybe Oxfam should run How to Order In courses & before someone points out that Dominos doesn’t deliver to the sub-continent, they could always call Curry-in-a-Hurry ... or am I being a little obtuse?
& I noticed in the news the other day that...
Danny La Rue, the cabaret entertainer once described by Bob Hope as "the most glamorous woman in the world", died yesterday aged 81.

However, if the Book of Deuteronomy is correct
The woman shall not wear that which pertaineth unto a man, neither shall a man put on a woman's garment: for all that do so are abomination unto the Lord thy God
right about now, the old queen won't be having a terribly good time!
If you are a store owner from, Brakpan (South Africa) & you are tired of people breaking into your shop on Voortrekker Road, what are you going to do? Simple, shave your dog to look like a lion.

That should keep the tea leaves away...

I don't have any data on how our ersatz lion has impacted upon existing customers' shopping patterns, average spend & dwell times however from what I hear, the lads from Brakpan don't really care. They are a bit like that! Typical bl**dy miserable Dutchmen.
This morning as I tuck into my fry up I shall be considering is all you can eat actually all you can eat?

& the Wall of Bacon was brought to you by Supersized Meals
Forget the great unwashed anti-capitalist thugs or indeed the Tamils that insist on blocking Parliament Square, this is how you protest with panache...

A man drove a Rolls-Royce through the window of a Tesco supermarket yesterday after staff at the store refused to sell him alcohol
In fact it could have only have been better if Aggrieved of Andover had got his chauffeur to drive said Rolls through the super market window. Now that would have been real style.
& while we are on the subject of proper chaps, may I also commend this excellent piece by Andrew Roberts to you, dear readers
Westminster cannot operate like some gentlemen's club," the Prime Minister has said, echoing remarks of various other MPs – Tories, as well as Labour – that Parliament needs to reform itself or it will continue to be an archaic, inward-looking, inefficient institution such as they infer are the gentlemen's clubs of London.
What infernal cheek! How dare the denizens of Westminster, mired in this cesspit of scandal of their own making, look three-quarters of a mile westwards and try to equate London clubmen with their repulsive practices. If one is looking for sleaze and corruption in today's society, where do you look for it: Westminster, or St James's? If club members were caught doing half of what it turns out MPs have been up to, they would immediately be forced to resign their memberships and never show their faces again.
Courtesy of Gwelicus
This little piggy went to market,
This little piggy stayed at home,
This little piggy had roast beef,
This little piggy had none.
And this little piggy had influenza A virus subtype hemagglutinin protein 1 neuraminidase protein 1
&
Swine flu is getting serious, it has been reported to be a hamdemic, which may lead to an aporkolypse... but we'll get through. Where there's a swill there's a way

The British are responding to recent terrorist threats and have raised their security level from "Miffed" to "Peeved."Soon, though, security levels may be raised yet again to "Irritated" or even "A Bit Cross." Brits have not been "A Bit Cross" since the Blitz in 1940 when tea supplies all but ran out. Terrorists have been re-categorized from "Tiresome" to a "Bloody Nuisance." The last time the British issued a "Bloody Nuisance" warning level was during the great fire of 1666.
The French government announced yesterday that it has raised its terror alert level from "Run" to "Hide". The only two higher levels in France are "Collaborate" and "Surrender." The rise was precipitated by a recent fire that destroyed France 's white flag factory, effectively paralysing the country's military capability. It's not only the French who are on a heightened level of alert. Italy has increased the alert level from "Shout loudly and excitedly" to "Elaborate Military Posturing." Two more levels remain: "Ineffective Combat Operations" and "Change Sides."
The Germans also increased their alert state from "Disdainful Arrogance" to "Dress in Uniform and Sing Marching Songs.." They also have two higher levels: "Invade a Neighbour" and "Lose".
Belgians, on the other hand, are all on holiday as usual, and the only threat they are worried about is NATO pulling out of Brussels .
The Spanish are all excited to see their new submarines ready to deploy. These beautifully designed subs have glass bottoms so the new Spanish navy can get a really good look at the old Spanish navy.
Americans meanwhile are carrying out pre-emptive strikes, on all of their allies, just in case.
And at a "Commenwealth" level... New Zealand has also raised its security levels - from "baaa" to "BAAAA!". Due to continuing defence cutbacks (the airforce being a squadron of spotty teenagers flying paper aeroplanes and the navy some toy boats in the Prime Minister's bath), New Zealand only has one more level of escalation, which is "Shit, I hope Austrulia will come end riscue us". In the event of invasion, New Zealanders will be asked to gather together in a strategic defensive position called "Bondi"..
Australia, meanwhile, has raised its security level from "No worries" to "She'll be right, mate". Three more escalation levels remain, "Crikey!', "I think we'll need to cancel the barbie this weekend" and "The barbie is cancelled". There has not been a situation yet that has warranted the use of the final escalation level...
& a wave of the fat capitalist cigar to MdB for this one
2007 - Chinese year of the Chicken - Bird Flu Pandemic devastates parts of Asia
2008 - Chinese year of the Horse - Equine Influenza decimates Australian racing
2009 - Chinese year of the Pig - Swine Flu Pandemic kills hundreds around the globe
It gets worse... next year is, 2010 is ...Chinese year of the Cock. So what could possibly go wrong?
Seven new swine flu cases in the UK have been confirmed, the Department of Health has said & the Bambibasher points out the first swine flu related celebrity death

Health officals say that they know who he got it from.....
Found by AJDS
Artery The study of paintings
Bacteria Back door to cafeteria
Barium What doctors do when patients die
Benign What you be, after you be eight
Caesarean Section A neighbourhood in Rome
Catscan Searching for Kitty
Cauterize Made eye contact with her
Colic A sheep dog.
Coma A punctuation mark
Dilate To live long
Enema Not a friend
Fester Quicker than someone else
Fibula A small lie
Impotent Distinguished, well known
Labour Pain Getting hurt at work
Medical Staff A Doctor's cane
Morbid A higher offer
Nitrates Cheaper than day rates
Node I knew it
Outpatient A person who has fainted
Pelvis Second cousin to Elvis
Post Operative A letter carrier
Recovery Room Place to do upholstery
Rectum Nearly killed him
Secretion Hiding something
Seizure Roman emperor
Tablet A small table
Terminal Illness Getting sick at the airport
Tumour One plus one more.
Urine Opposite of you're out
Israel has confirmed its second case of swine flu
I have a tenner that says that rabbis all over Israel are currently saying told you so!
... to anyone that wants to collect one. You can get a free BBQ from any of the following stores:
· ASDA
· Morrison's
· Costco
· Kwik Save
· Somerfield
· Aldi
· Sainsbury
· Tesco
· Iceland
· Lidl
All BBQs come with a higher shelf which can be used for keeping things warm! Please note that some stores may charge a £1 administration fee

& thanks is due to Tim for pointing out this amazing offer

& Alan commends the Toronto Downtown outlet, "even though the food was terrible". Like anyone cares
This comes from Gweilicus & in its original form was written by a cousin on the left hand side of the pond. Your humble correspondent has Angliscised it a bit this evening but I feel sure that you lot can improve it further....

In the beginning God created the Heavens and the Earth and the Infantry. And God looked upon the Infantry, saw that it was good, and said unto them "Thou art my chosen children. Take thou dominion over the Earth; over the fish of the Sea, the birds of the Air, and all of the Key Terrain".
And as a mark of His favour the Lord placed in the hands of the Infantry the sacred relics: the Apostolic Anti-Armour Weapon, the Catholic Claymore, and the Marian Machine Gun.
Likewise giveth the Lord unto the Infantry the Rucksack of Repentance, the Radio of Redemption, the Rifle of Rectitude. Lastly, unto the Infantry, and most divine of all, the Lord giveth the Holy Hand Grenade (of Antioch? Ed)
For the Infantry's sustenance the Lord declared "Four shall be thy food groups: brews, egg banjos, smokos (pref B&H), & booze. Shun all other unclean food and drink."
And the Infantry dwelt in the land therein.
And time passed, and the Infantry cried out unto their God saying "Lord, help us, for we are weary." And God smiled upon the Infantry, for they were blessed. Then the Lord took the fattest and laziest of the Infantry and set them upon beasts of burden. And these He called Cavalry became fatter, lazier and heavier still until they were known as Armour, or CITs for short.
And the Lord looked down upon the Cavalry and saw that it was mediocre. The Lord then said "Oh, well. Thou canst not win them all. Let them lead in case of landmines." & to them the Lord said "Fish eggs shall be thy food, and Bolli thy drink. Touch not the sacred scoff of the Infantry."
And the Infantry, the Cavalry and the Armour dwelt in the land therein.
And time passed and the Infantry cried out again unto their Lord saying "Lord help us, for we are weary." And God smiled again upon the Infantry, for they were his chosen. Then God took those of the Armour with butts like baseplates and breath like sulphur and these He made Artillery. But God saw that the Artillery, too, was mediocre and said unto Himself, "Oh well, garbage in; garbage out."
Unto the Artillery He said "The big guns shall atone in part for thy diminutive other stature. Tryest thou not to hurt thyselves." To the Infantry the Lord said "When the night is darkest these shall light the way...more or less. When the approach is most open these shall, occasionally - with luck, confound the enemy's sight. When thou callest for fire support these shall - eventually - provide it with HE, cluster munitions and, best of all, Willie Peter"
Though the Lord cautioned the Infantry to never, never, never trust Tacfire or any other electronic computer in the hands of the Artillery.
And the Infantry, the Cavalry, the Armour and Artillery dwelt in the land therein. Then the Artillery created the Cloud Punchers; but quickly asked forgiveness.
And time passed and the Infantry called out yet again unto their God, saying "Lord help us, for we are weary." Again the Lord looked with favour upon the Infantry. He took those of the Armour, Artillery who most liked to play in the mud and these he made Combat Engineers, and those who dwelt in darkness and spoke in riddles and these he made Military Intelligence, and those with thieving hearts and these He made Quartermasters, and of those who neither sowed nor reaped and were most fond of hammering square pegs into round holes He made Adjutants General. Of those who liked to tinker with good equipment until it broke He made the Ordnance Corps.
Of those whose penchant was poison He made Cooks. Of those who ran around in circles He made the Royal Military Police. Of the least articulate He made Signallers. Of those who dealt in controlled substances He made the Medics.
And the Infantry, and the others, dwelt in the land therein.
Time passed, but yet, again, the Infantry cried out unto their God, saying, "Lord, help us, for we are weary." And the Heavens darkened, and the clouds gathered. The lightnings spake and the Infantry abased themselves before their God, for they were sore afraid. And the Lord spoke with anger, asking "How canst thou yet be weary? Have I not made the Armour and the Artillery to support thee? Have I not made of the detritus of the Earth, Quartermasters and Adjutants and Signallers and Transporters and a host of others to assist thee? Verily, have I not even made Military Intelligence, although it were a contradiction in terms?"
Humbly the Infantry abased themselves again before their God, crying, "Lord, it is of these that we are weary."
From Reader Tom & I have no idea if this is true but I so so want it to be !
The US state that consumes the most online pornography is Utah
New Scientist (US Edition), 27 Feb 09
People who live in Utah report the highest levels of wellbeing in the US
NYT Economix, 10 Mar 09

South African President Kgalema Motlanthe has apologized for the shoddy quality of the lies surrounding the banning of the Dalai Lama, but has vowed to produce better lies in future. "All the really great liars were purged with Mbeki," he explained. "The public needs to understand that it will take time to develop a new cadre of world-class liars."
According to the South African government the exiled Tibetan leader was refused an entry visa to the country because his presence would draw attention away from the 2010 World Cup.
Addressing the media this morning, President Motlanthe conceded that as lies went, the latest had been one of the feeblest offerings "for some years".
"Initially we were going to say that the Dalai Lama was being refused entry because he's carrying the SARS virus," explained Motlanthe.
"We faxed the prototype lie through to Beijing, to the Commissar for African Assimilation, or as I like to call him, 'Boss', but he called back in about twenty minutes to remind us that SARS doesn't exist and that no-one has ever contracted any virus of any kind in China."
Motlanthe said that the purging of Thabo Mbeki and his allies had decimated the ANC's cadre of highly skilled liars.
"We're only now realizing just how exceptional Mbeki's liars were," said Motlanthe. "They came up with some incredible lies: a better life for all; there's no link between HIV and Aids; the elections in Zimbabwe were free and fair; South Africa is winning the war on crime; the arms deal was clean.
"When you lose people like that it takes time to fill the hole they leave behind."
He said the ANC's current cadre of liars were "raw, untested, and not yet comfortable within an intellectual milieu".
Asked if that meant they were semi-retarded, Motlanthe said he did not wish to "bandy about unkind labels" but confirmed that many were more comfortable with exposing their buttocks and calling for the murder of political opponents than they were with sitting down and writing "long complicated sentences".
Meanwhile the Congress of the People has denied that it is made up largely of Mbeki's cadre of liars.
According to COPE spokesman Minime Mbeki, nobody in the new party has ever told a lie.
"Which is why we're going to win 845 percent of the vote," added Mbeki.
"And when we're in power we're going to end poverty by buying more submarines and we're going to cure Aids with potatoes. We promise. Really. Seriously."
Cop pulls over a taxi.
Cop says: "Licence please."
Taxi driver says: "What for?"
Cop: "You didn't come to a complete stop at the stop sign."
Taxi driver: "I slowed down, and no one was coming."
Cop: "You still didn't come to a complete stop. Licence please."
Taxi driver: "What's the difference?"
Cop: "The difference is you have to come to a complete stop, that's the law. Licence please!"
Taxi driver: "Heish .... if you can show me the difference between slow down and stop, I'll give you my licence and you give me the ticket, if not, you let me go and no ticket."
Cop says: "Exit your vehicle, sir."
The taxi driver gets out of his taxi, whereupon the cop takes out his truncheon and starts beating the kak out of the taxi driver and says: "you want me to stop or just slow down?"
Following on from our little lovers conundrum of last week – we now have this...
A married barrister who had an affair with a client charged her £250 an hour, even while they were spending intimate time together, legal papers claim. Marc Beaumont, 46, had a "romantic and intimate love affair" with Anal Sheikh, 48, a solicitor, after she retained his services to represent her in at least three cases she was involved in. But he is alleged to have ended their affair and Miss Sheikh is now suing Mr Beaumont for £800,000, claiming amongst other things that he charged her not just for the time they were working, but also the personal time they spent together.
So let me see if I have got this right, Marc is being sued by Anal because he charged her for what?? This is yet another case that needs to be heard by 'Hanging' Judge Free Market’s Bloody Assizes for shear amusement value if nothing else!
For your Friday morning delectation...
An elderly Italian man who lived on the outskirts of Rimini, Italy, went to the local church for confession. When the priest slid open the panel in the confessional, the man said: 'Father .... During World War II, a beautiful Jewish woman from our neighbourhood knocked urgently on my door and asked me to hide her from the Nazis. So I hid her in my attic.'
The priest replied: 'That was a wonderful thing you did, and you have no need to confess that.'
'There is more to tell, Father... She started to repay me with sexual favours. This happened several times a week, and sometimes twice on Sundays.'
The priest said, 'That was a long time ago and by doing what you did, you placed the two of you in great danger. But two people under those circumstances can easily succumb to the weakness of the flesh. However, if you are truly sorry for your actions, you are indeed forgiven.'
'Thank you, Father. That's a great load off my mind. I do have one more question.'
'And what is that?' asked the priest.
'Should I tell her the war is over?’
A woman walks into the Liverpool benefits office, trailed by 15 kids... 'WOW!' the social worker exclaims, 'Are they all yours?'
'Yeah, they are all mine,' the flustered mother sighs, having heard that question a thousand times before. She says, 'Sit down, Terry.' All the children rush to find seats.
'Well,' says the social worker, 'then you must be here to sign on. I'll need all your children's names.'
'This one's my oldest - he is Terry.'
'OK, and who's next?'
'Well, this one - he is Terry, also.'
The social worker raises an eyebrow but continues, one by one, through the oldest four, all boys, all named Terry. Then she is introduced to the eldest girl, named Terri. 'All right,' says the caseworker, 'I'm seeing a pattern here.'
'Are they all named Terri?'
Their mother replied, 'Well, yes - it makes it easier. When it is time to get them out of bed and ready for school, I yell, Terry an’when it's time for dinner, I just yell, Terry an' they all come runnin', like. An' if I need to stop the kid who's running into the street, I just yell, Terry and all of them stop. It's the smartest idea I ever had, namin' them all Terry ..'
The social worker thinks this over for a bit, then wrinkles her forehead and says tentatively, 'But what if you just want ONE kid to come, and not the whole bunch?'
'I call them by their surnames!'
----------
A man is in bed with his Thai-girlfriend. After having great sex, she spends the next hour just stroking his dangly bit, something she had lovingly done on many occasions. Rather enjoying it, he turns and asks her: 'why do you love doing that?’
She replies: 'Because I really miss mine...'
The whole story is here but now if you excuse me, ve sing ze old songs, ja?
If, as Freddie Mercury claimed, fat bottomed girls make the rocking world go round, isn't it about time that the City of Glasgow received some recognition for its contribution to astrophysics?
Your thought for the day was brought to you via Reader AJDS
Jane, who shot her Uncle Bill,
Said his death did not affect her,
But, which makes it sadder still,
Broke my 'Hammerless Ejector.'
Harry Graham
Care of Mr Bambi Basher

Jade's new movie? A wedding, four weeks & a funeral
Jade Goody's latest therapy includes mud baths. The doctors admit they will serve no medical purpose whatsoever but will get her used to the smell of freshly dug earth!
Have you heard what Jade Goody's kids are getting for Easter? Adopted.
Jade Goody has stated that she is "ready to go to heaven". Looks like cancer isn't going to be the last bad news she hears.
Apparently Jade Goody’s cancer is eating away at her brain now. Poor thing...it must be starving
Max Clifford has announced that Jade Goody's family are preparing for the worst. What? A full recovery?
Good news for Jade Goody, during her last hospital visit she contracted a flesh eating bug....Doctors have given her 52 years to live.
Jade Goody has been cheered up by one bit of good news today - she got ten quid on eBay for her hairdryer.
What’s the difference between Cancer and a Goat? Jade Goody can't milk a goat.
Now that Jade goody has written out her will, is there any chance she could leave her cancer to Amy Winehouse?
& before anyone asks, I don't care if she is dead, my original comments stand
Disabled toilets.

Ironically, the only toilets big enough to run around in.

...or was this columnist just being ironic? A wave of the fat capitalist cigar to Rhys for finding it
Joe, age 7
David age 9
Simon age 8
Andrew age 6

We can thank Suzie for this one
The fire & damnation that will be rained down upon me for this one is entirely justified

Actress Natasha Richardson 'brain-dead'
& I have to confess to thinking, aren't they all & therefore how does this constitute news?
I orginally posted this in back in 2004 however over lunch with Mr Bambi Basher last week, we had cause to refer to it. So in the interests of accuracy, here it is once more...

As our correspondent Sir Archibald Clerk Kerr says, it takes a Turk! Sir Archibald, you are a prince among men

Seismologists have discovered a new volcano under Liverpool city centre. The name?
Kill A Man For His Giro.
When Mrs.Gorm (Aunty Eloise)
Was stung to death by savage bees,
Her husband (Prebendary Gorm)
Put on his veil, & took the swarm.
He's publishing a book, next May,
On "How to Make Bee-keeping Pay"
Harry Graham
In response to falling income, Ryanair has been looking to generate additional revenue streams
To charge to pee, or not to charge to pee, is the latest user-friendly initiative being worried over by the concerned management of Ryanair. According to Michael O'Leary, the CEO, levying a fee of a quid to use an aircraft lavatory while in flight is perfectly reasonable and possible. A company spokesman took pains to assure the worried public: "Maybe O'Leary was just taking the p---." All in all, it was another good day's work, Ryanair style: bash the customer, get a free namecheck, be a bit crude, have a good laugh. It is such a lark, running a multi-million-pound customer-dependent business.
Now they are taking this to the next logical stage…

Found by Hugh
We have touched upon Melissa Theuriau before (if only!) but what with it being a Monday morning, I tought that this wouldn't be a bad place to start the working week. I don't care if my newreader is a serious journo (serious journo yeah right!), this is how I want them to look

& now if you will excuse me, I need to take a little rest in a darkened room. Nurse, some more medication please...

you might want to have a look at this site

Warning: Viewing it may cause time to pass very very slowly
If you understand the biological connection between male psyches then & only then can you have a proper gunfight
This morning’s entry in our African Infantryman of the Year competition is in the Junior Section. Young Bonokai here proves that just because you have bunked off from school, it doesn’t mean that you can’t spare the time to learn to tie your tie properly.

Spotted on ARRSE
Reader Alan sent these pics of his dog shortly after it had seen his pay check...


Robert Mugabe goes to Israel on a state visit (ok this is a joke). He suffers a heart attack in Jerusalem and dies. The undertaker tells his entourage “ You can have him shipped home for $ 500 000.00 or have him buried in the Holy Land for $ 500.00”. After much discussion the entourage decides to have Bob shipped home. This confuses the undertaker. “ Why would you spend all that money to have him shipped home when you could use it to buy diesel, food, generators and medicines for the long suffering people of Zimbabwe?”
The Zimbabweans replied “Long ago a man died here, was buried here and three days later he rose from the dead. We just can’t take that chance.”
Via Alan
From Alan
Little Johnnie's neighbour had a baby. Unfortunately, the baby was born without ears. When mother and new baby came home from the hospital, Johnnie's family was invited over to see the baby. Before they left their house, Little Johnnie's dad had a talk with him and explained that the baby had no ears.
His dad also told him that if he so much mentioned anything about the baby's missing ears or, even said the word ears, he would get the smacking of his life when they came back home. Little Johnnie told his dad he understood completely.
When Johnnie looked in the crib he said, "What a beautiful baby."
The mother said, "Why, thank you, Johnnie.
Johnnie said, "He has beautiful little feet and beautiful little hands, a cute little nose and really beautiful eyes. Can he see alright?"
"Yes", the mother replied, "we are so thankful; the Doctor said he will have 20/20 vision."
"That's great", said Little Johnnie, "coz he'd be fu*ked if he needed glasses".
Continuing our African Infantryman of the Year competition we have two new entrants. Firstly in the Fire & Manoeuvre category we have Sundaygar…

Sundaygar is a firm believer that muzzle velocity is directly proportional to how hard you tug on the trigger. He also cautions his many many fans to ensure that the stock of your personal weapon is kept clear of the shoulder at all times.
Second up, & modelling this seasons Mothercare Militia-Gurl range, we have I’satta

I’satta assures us that baby body armour strapped to your chest, affords adequate protection against calibres up to & including 9mm Parabellum as well as the sorts of shrapnel & ricochets often encountered in the urban environment

"Filth hounds of Hades!" Sir Henry Rawlinson surfaced from the blackness, hot and fidgety, fuss, bother and itch, conscious mind coming up too fast for the bends, through pack-ice thrubbing seas, boom-sounders, blow-holes, harsh-croak Blind Pews tip-tap-tocking for escape from his pressing skull.
With a gaseous grunt he rolled away from the needle-cruel light acupuncuring his pickle-onion eyes, and with key-bending will slit-peered at the cold trench Florrie had left on her side of the bed. Tongue like yesterday's fried cod: "Mind over batter? Tongue sandwiches? Bleah! Eat what? But it's been in somebody else's mouth!" Black spot! The Blind Pews were now thrashing with their canes. "God's turban and tutu! Do I need a dare of the hog?"
He reached for the bellrope, yanked savagely to summon the housekeeper, and discovered himself, nighty round his waist, turned tortoise on the rug. Paralysis lasted... scarce a blink but with impotent rage he bellied his unwilling hulk to the wardrobe. Cold comfort, as his palsied hand found the shotgun. Good stock. "Roll over!" One action: commando stuff. "Cock over!" Safety off, both barrels through the ceiling. Stunned shock and then Henry's eruptive bellow "Mrs. E!". The plaster had not setted before the housekeeper stood lurcher-backed at-your-servile-sir in the room.
"Yes?" she said.
"I don't know what I want but I want it now".
"Fried or fried?"
"Now!"
The National Prosecuting Authority must "save the country" by dropping graft charges against presidential front-runner Jacob Zuma, the ANC's youth leader said on Thursday.
"We are not retreating from our call that the NPA must drop charges because there are no winnable charges against the president of the ANC," said African National Congress Youth League leader Julius Malema

A custodial sentence for Alan for daring to mock the ANC hegemony

In sight of peace--from the Narrow Seas
O'er half the world to run--
With a cheated crew, to league anew
With the Goth and the shameless Hun!
Extract from The Rowers - Rudyard Kipling

Well maybe not. The colour isn’t great & then there is the small matter of every time that you got to the airport & tried to check in, the term full body cavity search springs to mind. However if you fancy one, they are available here & if you fancy a full body cavity search, they are probably available at just about any airport you care to mention
So it is true that the Mohammedans will only drink Kool-Aid?

But what does the Koran say about Sunny Delight? A fatwa upon Reader Martin for poking for fun at the true believers & their medieval rejection of citrus based drinks.
More fun from The Nose on Your Face
The bit that I like about the picture isn’t the jaunty angle of the bucket of whitewash; it’s that our hero has chosen its advanced safety features in preference to the crash helmet that it tied to the handlebars. Go figure!

A brand new bone dome to MdeB for finding this one
For this mornings entry in our competition we have to revisit the original post & in particular, this 2007 contestant
The nautical theme is ever popular as is seen by this militiaman wearing a stylish Kapok life jacket. It wont stop a bullet but it sure looks Boo-yaa!
Indeed several readers were moved to comment on the lack personal protection from small arms fire that a Kapok life vest affords. Oh ye of little faith. What probably none of us realised at that time was that said garment had clearly had the full Ju-Ju man treatment, because our hero is just fine, dandy & giving it rockall, where as his oppo who made the typical rooky militiaman’s error of eschewing the Kapok & instead going into combat in designer denim. He got shot…
So there you have it ... Kevlar ... Kapok... its all pretty much the same: But for goodness sake, nobody tell those nangers at the Defence Procurement Agency because you just know what will happen next, dont you!
Whilst the 2008 contest was hotly contested, this year the competition is likely to be even more fierce & we start with this fine fellow

Now lets set aside the somewhat interesting choice battledress & focus on the personal weapon. The MG 42 & its many many variants in a fine weapon, but is it just me or is this particular example missing a rather critical part?
This is a repost because of the most recent comment entered yesterday....
Allahu Akbar !!
From Reader Gwyn
It must be time to repost what has to be one of the greatest Christmas pictures ever…

Based upon personal experience & after extensive selfless research which has seen your humble correspondent spending large portions of his adult life in a state that can be best described as dribblingly incontinent, the science of the hangover has now been subjected to careful & methodical analysis. Behold, the result …
(Chart inspired by The Bailie Nicol Jarvie Hotel, Aberfoyle, Scotland)
& the reason that I am reposting this today is because I was undertaking further research until very late last night this morning ... & am not feeling like a Captain of Industry today
& for those of you that want it, a full sized downloadable version of this target is under the fold...
Full sized target
Enjoy
He shouts "This is a raid - everyone get on the floor!", and proceeds to empty the cash drawers.
As he runs towards the door with the loot, a brave customer yanks off his ski mask. The robber immediately shoots the customer in the head and shouts "Did anybody else here see my face?"
The robber notices another customer peering from behind a counter and goes over and shoots him in the head also
"Did anybody else see my face?" He shouts again, waving his gun around.
There is a silence for a few seconds before a male voice is heard from a
distant corner.
"I think my wife caught a glimpse..."
Continuing the early morning military theme, we have this weeks contestants in our African Infantryman of the Year competition. First off in our ‘God is Airborne’ category we have this young chappy replete with his ’95 pattern wings, Tinkabell for the use of & a rather racy brace of AKs...

Then in our alternative lifestyles section, it is heartwarming to see that in the 3rd World, military attitudes to the love that dare not speak its name are slightly more enlightened than don’t ask don’t tell...

Finally, in the Combined Cadet Force category we have this lad

I just bet that headmaster will be chuffed to bits when his he shows up in the classroom with his colleagues
A wave of the fat capitalist cigar to reader MK for finding these
... the Shannon Matthews commemorative plate
Mark this one down to EX_STAB to whom we give thanks for finding it

A pint of finest foaming to Theo for finding this one
Spotted by Peter in the Futility Closet
In January 1950, Senator Victor Biaka-Boda of French West Africa was touring his homeland when his car broke down in a region with a history of cannibalism. His charred bones were found in November. Apparently he had been eaten by his constituents.

Nothing yet !!
(& a couple of pints for The Englishman on Friday night for coming up with that one)
As Gweilicus pointed out to me the other day, when Madonna first moved to the UK she said she wanted to feel more British. Now, she is a single parent with three children, all of whom have different fathers

Job done
today’s contestant in our now long running African Infantryman of the Year competition - found on ARRSE by Ex-Stab - is…
As is pointed out on the original comment on the photo, that really is an epic hat
... a bit like his nose

Sorry sorry, that was far too easy but I've had that piccy kicking around for simply yonks & it is a case of now or never

Whats the difference between a pizza & an investment banker?
A pizza can still feed a family of four

What is the difference between pigeons & investment bankers?
Pigeons can still leave deposits on new BMWs
To celebrate the election of The Chosen One, Free Market High Street Retail Ltd is currently clearing inventory…
A wave of the fat capitalist cigar & an all expenses paid bikini line wax for Alan for finding that one
Long or Short Capital have been looking at how current investment trends are applied to Assets Under Management or as Mr Juggles terms it,
High-End Female Asset Analysis
High-end Hooker: Her position is strongest and her assets are acyclical. In good times, men are flush with cash and looking for strange but are also less dysfunctional; this leads to an allocation towards a basket mainly consisting of High-End Wives, with maybe a 15% position in High-end GFs and a 2-5% position in High-end Hookers. As markets worsen and/or crisises take hold, Man is increasingly dysfunctional and looking for ego offsets. It also in this time when Man typically contemplates or engages in life restructuring which can entail simple cost saves, like headcount reduction, or even full-on recapitalization, flushing out the junior capital. A successful market-timing Man will typically have a portfolio composed of 60% High-end Hookers, 30% High-end GFs and 10% value High-end Wives when the market is bottoming. As the cycle comes around, the High-end Hooker position is reduced opportunistically, some of the High-end GF portion transitions organically to High-end Wives and the value High-end Wife position is added to with more growth High-end Wives.
This mornings entry in my now long running African Infantryman of the Year competition is Jamal…
I mean, how much do you want Jamal to actually pull the trigger on that RPG? No only would the BBC / CNN go one light in the journo dept (because to my mind, beardo looks just like a journo who has bitten off more than he can chew) but even if the grenade didn’t detonate, it would punch a boat sinking sized hole in the keel
This morning dear readers we have a new nomination for African Infantryman of the Year...

As Alan, who sent this to me pointed out, if Gartee, having taped all of those mags together, didn’t have an AK in each hand, then he would have a hand free to do his flies up.
Previous nominations for this prestigious award can be found
This one seems to be doing the rounds this morning (via Tricky)
BARACK OBAMA: The chicken crossed the road because it was time for a change! The chicken wanted change!
JOHN MC CAIN: My friends, that chicken crossed the road because he recognized the need to engage in cooperation and dialogue with all the chickens on the other side of the road.
HILLARY CLINTON: When I was First Lady, I personally helped that little chicken to cross the road. This experience makes me uniquely qualified to ensure right from Day One! That every chicken in this country gets the chance it deserves to cross the road. But then, this really isn't about me.
GEORGE W. BUSH: We don't really care why the chicken crossed the road. We just want to know if the chicken is on our side of the road, or not. The chicken is either against us, or for us. There is no middle ground here.
DICK CHENEY: Where's my gun ?
COLIN POWELL: Now to the left of the screen, you can clearly see the satellite image of the chicken crossing the road.
BILL CLINTON: I did not cross the road with that chicken. What is your definition of chicken ?
AL GORE: I invented the chicken.
JOHN KERRY: Although I voted to let the chicken cross the road, I am now against it! It was the wrong road to cross, and I was misled about the chicken's intentions. I am not for it now, and will remain against it.
AL SHARPTON: Why are all the chickens white? We need some black chickens.
DR. PHIL: The problem we have here is that this chicken won't realize that he must first deal with the problem on this side of the road before it goes after the problem on the other side of the road. What we need to do is help him realize how stupid he's acting by not taking on his current problems before adding new problems.
OPRAH: Well, I understand that the chicken is having problems, which is why he wants to cross this road so bad. So instead of having the chicken learn from his mistakes and take falls, which is a part of life, I'm going to give this chicken a car so that he can just drive across the road and not live his life like the rest of the chickens.
ANDERSON COOPER, CNN: We have reason to believe there is a chicken, but we have not yet been allowed to have access to the other side of the road.
NANCY GRACE: That chicken crossed the road because he's guilty! You can see it in his eyes and the way he walks.
PAT BUCHANAN: To steal the job of a decent, hardworking American.
MARTHA STEWART: No one called me to warn me which way that chicken was going. I had a standing order at the Farmer's Market to sell my eggs when the price dropped to a certain level. No little bird gave me any insider information.
DR SEUSS: Did the chicken cross the road? Did he cross it with a toad? Yes, the chicken crossed the road, but why it crossed I've not been told.
ERNEST HEMINGWAY: To die in the rain, alone.
JERRY FALWELL: Because the chicken was gay! Can't you people see the plain truth? That's why they call it the other side. Yes, my friends, that chicken is gay. And if you eat that chicken, you will become gay, too. I say we boycott all chickens until we sort out this abomination that the liberal media whitewashes with seemingly harmless phrases like the other side. That chicken should not be crossing the road. It's as plain and as simple as that.
GRANDPA: In my day we didn't ask why the chicken crossed the road. Somebody told us the chicken crossed the road, and that was good enough.
BARBARA WALTERS: Isn't that interesting? In a few moments, we will be listening to the chicken tell, for the first time, the heart warming story of how it experienced a serious case of molting, and went on to accomplish its lifelong dream of crossing the road.
ARISTOTLE: It is the nature of chickens to cross the road.
JOHN LENNON: Imagine all the chickens in the world crossing roads together, in peace.
BILL GATES: I have just released eChicken 2008, which will not only cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important documents, and balance your checkbook. Internet Explorer is an integral part of eChicken 2008. This new platform is much more stable and will never crash or need to be rebooted.
ALBERT EINSTEIN: Did the chicken really cross the road, or did the road move beneath the chicken?
COLONEL SANDERS: Did I miss one?
(also from Tricky)
DICK FULD: Because we advised the chicken that it could take advantage of significant market opportunities that existed on the other side. Our advisory & structuring fees were a very modest US$ 20 million which is sadly not enough to even cover my bonus.
or
When the chicken crossed the road, it walked away from the fabulous opportunity to purchase Lehman Bros at only US$ 28/share, thereby causing us to go spectacularly bankrupt for which I feel truly horrible.
The state-sponsored Caricatura Museum in Frankfurt is to become a shrine to the country's humour, satire and comic art, which have so far remained largely unknown to the international public. The project is the "fulfilment of a life-long dream" for its curator, Achim Frenz, who is hoping to shatter the stereotype of the humourless German.
However he admitted: "We have only just opened the museum because until now we didn't have enough comedy to put in it."
Whatever next? Will the Irish be opening a museum for celebrate their long tradition of temperance?
A man, having applied to join the local police in a small town in (name of state deleted for the protection of the innocent) is being interviewed by the Chief of Police.
The Chief says, "Your qualifications are first-class but there is one test that you must pass before I can recruit you."
Sliding a small bag across the desk, he continues, "Take this gun, and one magazine, which has 13 rounds in it, and go out and shoot six illegal immigrants, six Obama delegates and a rabbit."
The man asks, "Why the rabbit?"
"Fantastic attitude!" says the Chief, "When can you start?"
New from the Heroes Of Terror Merchadise Range the Abu Hamza Key Holder

Via Bashing Bambi
Sipho got his 4th child. He fills data in the birth certificate...
Mother: Xhosa
Father: Zulu
Kid: Chinese
"How come you write 'Chinese' when both parents are Black?"
"Aah" says Sipho "I read in a newspaper that every 4th person born in the world now is Chinese!"
From Alan
This from Gweilicus

& this from Mark & as well as one more to finish up with

but today is International Talk Like a Pirate Day

Now while we are on this subject & in the light of the current uncertainly in the World's financial markets, its worth checking up on how Piratery Corp Inc has been trading recently...
Operator: Good morning Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the Piratery Corp Inc third quarter update call. Please note that today’s conference is being recorded. Following the presentation, we will conduct a question and answer session. I would now like to turn the conference over to Captain Bigdee Mofapalous.
Captain Bigdee Mofapalous: Aye, top o’ the morning to ye scallywags and ye sellside sons a whores. I’m intendin’ to bring an update to ye on this ‘ere day on this ‘ere company of ours, Piratery Corp Inc. To say we be happy with our results bein’ the way that they ave been a-beein, would be bald-faced lie suitable not even for this buncha sons a whores, you buncha sons a whores. This Queue 3 has been an unpleasant time, aye verily. I can attest, that on the flagship, me and the crew ave had our fill of rum, but the flow has been of the dour kind, not the gay kind, as we try ‘n wash away the day!!!!
Margins ‘ave been a-contractin’, verily. Business ‘as been ripe with bust, not boom. The wenches, aye we be in possesssion of the wenches still, aye it be the truth, but their wenchin has been weak too, effected by the global macroeconomy not unlike everything else. And the cuttlefish, nay, I can’t go into what ‘as been happenin with the cuttlefish.
Ye see, the problem which we been findin to be integral to our dire and gloomy outlook be the headwinds we ave been facing in all o’ our ‘ere segments. Many other firms o’ a diverse n’ motley origin have taken to making such complaints — investment whore banks, semiconductor mongrels, lest we forget the spawn o whale taint big box retailers, amonst others. Well, verily, we be facin’ headwinds, but they be o’ a legitimate kind!!! A stern northwesternly headwind wreaks havoc on our most profit-rich segments, and be makin’ our wenches cold. Our ships be left the difficult task o’ tacking back n forth just to offset a handful o’ the hundreds of bips o’ the pressures that be crushin’ our margins. A sad sight indeed, ye know it be the truth!
Our outlook needs revisin’ n I’m ‘ere for this very same purpose, so hold onto your peglegs, as I make this ere forecast that will suit your tastes and sate your appetites at the same time!!? We now be guidin our revenue to 5000 dubloons n earnings per share in range of 1.3 dubloons as the crow flies!!! Our rapin guidance remains at 3000, while we still be full of hope that our comely wench fleet will finish the year end at 2500 with an average useful life of 3 years. Now, bring on these questions you blubberin’ backwater bastard b*ggerers!!!
Lots more from Long or Short Capital. Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrh !

Its enough to have Gary Glitter breaking out in a sweat. Now while we are on the subject of Mr Glitter
I can think of three reasons why Glitter facing the firing squad would have been a good thing:
When your Rock and Roll legacy has gone down the pan like no others', going out in a blaze of glory in front of a firing squad in a squalid Indo-Chinese prison yard gives you at least one notable and slightly cool footnote. And, hey, it makes a change from the usual air-crash.
More from Blognor Regis
new pictures show that SNP Leader Alex Salmond doesn't just look like Shrek, he is Shrek

From Theo at Last of the Few
Paddy's pregnant sister was in a terrible car accident and went into a deep coma. After being in the coma for nearly six months, she wakes up and sees that she is no longer pregnant. Frantically, she asks the doctor about her baby.
The doctor replies, 'Ma'am, you had twins.... a boy and a girl. The babies are fine, however, they were poorly at birth and had to be christened immediately so your brother Paddy came in and named them.
The woman thinks to herself, ' Oh suffering Jesus, no, not me brother, he's a clueless idiot...
Expecting the worst, she asks the doctor,' Well, what's my daughter's name?' 'Denise' says the doctor. The new mother is somewhat relieved, 'Wow, that's a beautiful name, I guess I was wrong about my brother', she thought....'I really like Denise '
Then she asks, ' What's the boy's name?'
The doctor replies ' Denephew '
Cant say fairer than this...

Via Gweilicus