Honky

...as an NHS manager, and formerly curator for the Peking Museum of Facts, Artifacts, and D-I-Y, imagine my surprise to learn of a 20 foot northern bottlenosed whale swimming up the river Thames. This mythical beast was rumoured to weigh a staggering 1,000,000 tons, which would make it twice as heavy as the biggest crane in the world (the wading bird, not the lifting device). I can only assume that the whale's luggage was included in this sum.

However, a stranger thing happened in the north east this week that received nowhere near the bloodlust frenzy of the media...in the river Wear, fish were reported to have been seen!!! Fishermen were deeply concerned with this news..as one admitted to a local news, "?". This was echoed by the columnist, who declared this "the most pompus thing he had ever seen or listened to! Not only are the fish in the water, but they are also." (at that point, the article finished). The mayor of the river Wear has declared war on the fish, and the battle has been going well. So far, the death toll among the people of Sunderland is 100%. Thousands more are expected to perish in the mouths of the fish in the next hour or two.

The first shop ever opened in Sunderland this week. It was a branch of argos and as a promotional tool, it sold only photographs of ghosts in its first three days...here are some examples of the best sellers;











Fucking amazing! I showed these photos to an orphan on Sunday and he cried like a spoilt brat!

Dr. Robotnik's proposal to his board of shareholders.

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Essentially, it is a giant ball hanging from a chain. I will attach this chain to my own personal antigravity pod as I indicated here. I will be in control of the pod as well as the ball. The idea? To swing the ball at the hedgehog with enough force to make him drop all his rings, leaving him vulnerable to attack. If things get hairy, I have installed a backup power supply, stored here, that will swing the ball all 360 degrees around my pod, increasing both the centrifugal force of the boulderlike ball and my defenses.

Yes, I have thought this through and I have decided that this is the best use of my newly discovered antigravity technology. What about the pod? Well ... I like convertibles. I want to feel the breeze through my moustache as I destroy this little blue threat to my industry. No, I don't think it will be necessary to add armour to the top of the pod—this is a hedgehog, not some sort of flying fox.

I have explained this to all of you in writing—the hedgehog has taken it upon himself to free our rabbits, which we have turned into robots. These rabbits are the backbone of our work force! If we lost them we could no longer maintain our islands, cities, or our giant antigravity slot machines. I have stolen a lot of rings from those slot machines, which has shot our profit margins through the roof!

OK, we'll compromise. We won't downsize the ball, but we will skimp on the flameproof interior. I never should have gone public.

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Mungo!

Its a shame he died, he'd have made a cracking Mungo Jerry on "Stars in Their Eyes"

Don't worry! It's only Dabo!!

Mathematicians are currently debating as to whether or not there is a number bigger than 45,000,000 (possibly 45,000,001...they're not sure). Anyway, this is how many goals Dabo could score if he wanted to.

Ask anyone.

A Tale of Two Cities

I've decided to dedicate the rest of this week to spiders, and it all starts here!

I just love spiders! They spin silk from special glands up their arse somehow, just like factories do. They eat flies and other insects that fly or don't fly. They make a house every night. Some of them have sex with eachother. Some of them are poisonous though...not sure if that's a good idea. It's too dangerous. However, according to statistics, no-one has ever been killed, injured, offended, or sexually fiddled by a poisonous spider. I did hear of a spider that lives in a castle near Toulouse (France) that is apparently the most dangerous non poisonous spider in the world. He is called Barron De La Piscine and is reputed to have killed over two hundred (maybe two million) French men and woman. He invites them to his castle with very fancy invitations printed on very nice paper (embossed and everything), he cooks them a slap up meal (probably horse or some shit!), then, when they're all fat, he wraps them in silk and eats them later, when it's his tea time, or supper time maybe. The police can't arrest him, because he's a spider.

Has the rest of the week finished yet? Good, cos I fucking hate spiders.

The Musical unit

Upon reading of the forthcoming foray to the shores of Spain by punk-a-billy combo, the Hyperjax, I uncovered this little gem on the official website for the festival in question.
It reads like the brain-shit of a mentalist, but is in actual fact, composed by a foreign:


"If you are fan of bands as Long Tall Texans or The Quakes and not yet know to Hyperjax do you with them as soon as possible, we assure you that its explosive cocktail of newwave/punk/rockabilly will not defraud you.

They began toward the 96 with a composed repertoire mostly by classics of rockabilly for, but late, to be centered in its own themes arriving thus to a sound that has carried them but there of the scene rockin', coming to obtain mention in magazines as Kerrang.

They include a CD to his credit published by the tambien British Raucous Records, as well as contributions in diverse recopilatorios among them the tribute rockabilly to The Clash or the video of the first one "American big rumble", having rotated for United States and participated in massive festivals out of the environment rockabilly/psycho.

This it will be the first visit to our country and we expect that not the last one."

Terrifying.

DOUBLE TOP!

Thank you Boxie for those smart and gorgeous words.

I am unsure whther it is a good idea for such a prominent politician to be linked to a blog that plays such weckless disregard to political correctness. Or is it? Anonymity remains a blessing wherever it rears its featureless (but fit) face.

Right hon John can sometimes be slimey, but this is only because of the history that sometimes seeps from his brain. He can quote you any extract from any book ever written...plus all books that haven't been written or refused to be wrote...and he can do this ages ago, before you even asked him to or wantde him to. He always wins at trivial persuit....not the board game, but a meaningless fox hunt.

Blunket can't even see pensions. How on earth does he know what they are? For that matter, he can't see shares...or letters telling him he shouldn't have shares...or DNA testing companies. All he knows is the stink of his dog, which wasn't well trained enough to avoid the ugly path its master had fumbled down.

Oh well. Three cheers for Right hon John. May all his indiscretions remain private.

Shit!

Right on, john!

This is the Box:

The left-wing communist news-honk, The Daily Mail, describe Right-(h)on-John as "a sexual timebomb waiting to blow" and later "The slimiest of all the cabinet".

They are, in fact, referring to the Edwardian man's male parental unit and successor to blind hump-merchant, David Blunkett, the right honest Jonny Hooting.

I thought this worthy of its own blog. He was on the news any everything, looking like a well-worn tawny owl, and spouting truths out of his voice-cavern.

I loved it.

I also hated it... Lter I was indifferent.