If the summer is a total washout like the last two, which were both predicted to be “warmer than normal” but which turned out to be damp squibs…
http://uk.news.yahoo.com/4/20090430/tuk-weathermen-predict-warm-dry-summer-dba1618.html
They could not predict that last summer would be crap, but we set government policies on their abilities to tell us what it will be like in 50! Jog on…
I am no shouter from the rooftops of George W Bush, let me make that clear from the outset. Even if many of my readers believe the Beloved has influenced me, I can make up my mind about his fundamentally flawed Presidency. It isn’t my country, yet, so it reallys isn’t of any consequence what I think about him. But imagine, just imagine, if, under his presidency, George W Bush’s presidency, this shit had been pulled.
It absolutely staggers me that someone thought (a) this was acceptable and (b) that the people of New York, who might have a little reason to be concerned, weren’t told. I’m a sceptic over people crying foul over trivialities and in some ways milking tragedies for all their worth. Without being too sweeping, swap the people of New York with those of a certain city in the North West of this country, and consider how stoical the New Yorkers have been. It is a great city with a permanent searing moment of horror etched on it that no-one in the Western World this side of the Second World War can truly empathise with. For someone to believe that flying a 747 with a two fighter jets may not cause the inkling of fear and dread, shows arrogance beyond compare.
I sincerely hope the dolt who thought this is acceptable is jobless today. It was a photo shoot, not a military exercise. Why on earth can’t authorities get it into their thick skulls that the people terrified out of their wits are who they represent?
Barack Obama is “furious”. As I said, under Dubya’s watch, I doubt the President would have got off as scott free.
As the Daily Mash states “Don’t Panic But You Are All Going To Die”..
And so, following in the hallowed footsteps of AIDS (a serious problem in many Developing Nations I know), BSE and New Variant CJD, Ebola, SARS, Bird Flu and the much touted Flu Pandemic set to wipe us all out, we have the new doozie…Swine Flu.
I am reminded, as I so often am, when authority senses a crisis at which they can save the world / make themselves appear to be halfway competent, of the words of the great Captain Flack in Trumpton. Fed up with dealing with make believe emergencies of cats up trees etc., when the big one comes along, he’s scarcely credulous, but in paroxysms of delight..”A Fire? A REAL Fire?”
So the plans made up on the hoof over a number of years can come to fruition. Sure, a frutibat or two, like an EU Health Advisor will tell us not to travel to Mexico AND THE UNITED STATES, but we can rest assured Roche have sent enough Tamiflu to increase their profits, and the papers can be full of people keeling over and feeling slightly unwell (as symptoms have been described in most people outside of Mexico as “mild”), and nothing sells papers more than panic, which they do little to dampen down with lurid headlines. Two honeymooners have it, and are “getting better”. Seven are being tested in Wiltshire. As the beloved put it this morning “It isn’t exactly the Black Death, is it?”.
No, watch those busybodies and scientists justify their presence, and appeal for more funding on the back of this old keg meg. And can someone somewhere have a headline along the lines of “Last of the Summer Swine” or “Swine, Women and Gone”.
….I could not have put it better myself… Please see the linked article, and the comment by the respondent Martillo.
Good on you mate.
Hat-tip to the blog, “Mr Eugenides“.
It will have to end soon, they always do, but the Red Sox’s 2-6 start is but a distant memory as the Wakefield victory in Oakland has been followed up by 8 more at home.
Game 13 – Baltimore Orioles (home) – won 12-1 – With Daisuke Matsuzaka on the DL, this start on Patriot’s Day was scheduled for Justin Masterson, the impressive young pitching prospect who put in a string of decent performances last season. Justin did not disappoint with 5 1/3 innings of 4 hit, 1 run pitching, which given the Red Sox’s offensive prowess was never likely to be enough. The Red Sox took an early 3 run lead in the first two innings, with the only home run of the game was a solo shot nailed by Jason Varitek over the Green Monster off perennial patsy Mark Hendrickson in the 2nd. Cesar Izturis pulled one back with an RBI single in the 3rd, but that would be all the Orioles would get. Ortiz hit a triple and a double; Pedroia went 4/6 with 3 RBIs; Youk drew 3 walks. 3 runs in the 6th and 6 in the 7th made this a laugher…
Home Runs – Jason Varitek (3) – Strike Outs – Masterson 3 (10), Okajima 1 (8)
Game 14 – Minnesota Twins (home) – won 10-1 – The rain affected two game series was played on Wednesday and Boston got off to a great start with a handsome win over the Twins. Tim Wakefield followed up his majestic start at Oakland with a complete game of 7 innings before the rain came and the game was called. 5 Hits and 1 earned run got the job done easily, as the Sox scored two runs each in the first three innings off Scott Baker. Youk got the ball running with a two run shot in the 1st around the Pesky Pole; Nick Green belted a 2 run shot in the 2nd and Lowell made it three on the spin with a 2 run shot in the 3rd. 4 runs in the 7th sealed the deal.
Home Runs – Youkilis (4), Lowell (3), Nick Green (1) – Strike Outs – Tim Wakefield 4 (12)
Game 15 – Minnesota Twins (home) – won 7-3 – The evening part of the double header went the Sox way behind an acceptable start by Brad Penny, fulfilling more than adequately the role of 5th starter. Given the Sox’s offensive onslaught three runs were not likely to be enough for the Twins. On paper the match up of the sensation from a couple of years ago Francisco Liriano might not have looked good, but with a 5-0 lead put up by the close of the 3rd the Twins were always up against it. The highlight for the Sox was the home run by Jeff Bailey…
The two runs the Twins got back in the 4th were immediately replied two with two of the Sox’s own in the bottom of the innings. Brad Penny went 6 innings and conceded two earned runs, while a token third was added in the 6th innings. The bull pen did all it needed to do.
Home Runs – Jeff Bailey (1) – Strike Outs – Brad Penny 2 (5)
And so to the big one….
Game 16 – New York Yankees (home) – Won 5-4 in 11 innings – Where on earth do you start with this magnificent game? On paper the pitching line-up looked intriguing; young tyro Joba Chamberlain against the Sox star of 2008, Jon Lester. The Sox got first blood in the opening innings. Jacoby Ellsbury got on base with a single to right field; advanced to second on a balk and then got home on a passed ball / wild pitch from 2nd. Rare 1-0 up with the 2nd in the order batting and no home run! The score remained 1-0 through 3 innings – Cabrera got on, Molina got a walk, and a double by Ransom scored Cabrera. Jeter grounded out, but got Molina home to give the Yankees a 2-1 lead. Boston never helped their cause by continuously getting men on and grounding into double plays. To overcome 4 such instances was crucial. Boston levelled matters in the bottom of the 6th when Nick Green’s base hit to right scored Mike Lowell. The lead was restored in the top of the 7th by the Yankees. Jeter doubled by the right field wall when Drew failed to take a catch; Damon bunted Jeter over to 3rd with the added advantage that Okajima, in for Lester, bobbled the ball and failed to get the out at first. Texeira blooped a single into centre field to score Jeter, and move Damon on. 3-2 became 4-2 when Swisher singled to load the bases, and Robinson Cano sacrificed Damon in. This doesn’t explain the play at all, as what looked like a double was caught brilliantly by Bay saving probably another two runs. It wouldn’t be the last play…
Boston got out of the 7th with no further damage. A walk was all they got out of their 7th innings. In the 8th all the Yankees could muster was a walk (and a decent defensive play by Pedroia at 2nd made sure that was all). In the bottom of the 8th Boston’s first two bats went quietly before Green was hit by a pitch. With one man on base, Girardi did the “Sri Lankan Captaincy” thing and brought in Ace Closer Mariano Rivera. His first batsman, Jacoby Ellsbury blooped a single over a reasonably amusing lunge by Derek Jeter, but Mo came back to strike out Pedroia.
The 9th was only going to be important for the Sox if they could stop the Yankees scoring. They did…but gave the crowd palpitations in doing so. The bases were loaded with no outs. Javier Lopez coming up with a Hit By Pitch and two walks. Big play number 1 was Robinson Cano hitting straight to Pedroia who got the man out at home and then Tek had enough time to get Cano at first. Cabrera popped up a foul ball that Tek caught and the Sox got out of the jam.
The bottom of the 9th innings, two outs (Ortiz struck out, Drew ground out) , and Youk on base, the Manny Replacement, Jason Bay stood between the Yankees and victory.
Boston had a lifeline. Rivera would not be able to save the Yankees now, and the weakness of the visitors would now be exposed, the brittle bull pen. A couple made it to base in Paplebons 10th innings, but Pedroia’s defensive play to get Jeter and the strike out of Texeira finished matters. The bottom of the 10th saw Green, Ellsbury and Pedroia retired in order. The Yankees double played themselves out of the 11th, which set the table for the big play. After Ortiz struck out, Youkilis sent a 2-2 pitch over the Monster to get the walk off win…
The second game of the series was more incredible, but you’ll have to wait for that. There really is nothing like the Red Sox v Yankees.
Home Runs – Jason Bay (4), Kevin Youkilis (5) – Strike Outs – Jon Lester 7 (26), Saito 1 (7), Papelbon 1 (5)
How sweet walk off home runs are….. About as sweet as game tying home runs in the bottom of the 9th with two outs and Mariano Rivera on the mound…
This is tat from the lowest drawer and in many ways I really should not put it on this blog. But it will show up the perils of tat shopping.
Let me explain first, by showing you the magnet in question, and letting you know my failings..
What’s the matter Dmitri, I hear no-one cry… On the face of it this is a woeful piece of work suitable for the front door of any fridge. I’m afraid there is a key reason it does not. We have an exotic location – San Pedro in Belize is THE San Pedro in La Isla Bonita, a vaguely passable tune by Madonna. The sting rays, as I can vouch, are around just off the coast as we had the pleasure of swimming among them in 4 feet swells off Ambergris Caye. The tropical fish have been bred using the zebra in the Kilimanjaro magnet’s DNA. Not sure what is going on with that starfish – I’m not sure it resembles anything in the animal kingdom. We even appear to have a miniature sun in the bottom left corner. The rocks are raised on the magnet itself, and the rays have eyes only Steve Irwin could love (sorry Croc Man). This wonderful piece of craft cost me 10 Belize Dollars.
So why the long face Dmitri. This is exceedingly tacky and an appropriate token from a lovely stop on our honeymoon.
The problem is that it is a fridge magnet in name only. Its magnet does not work. So it isn’t a magnet….. So it is a fail!
I am on a roll, and this one comes courtesy of another great friend and work colleague, Trevor. Earlier this year he and his wife Deborah had a trip of a lifetime to celebrate a big birthday, and Trevor approached the brief with gusto. A magnet of dubious taste from the inspiration of Toto’s magnificent opus. Just like Kilimanjaro, this fridge magnet rises like Olympus on my fridge door. The Serengeti may have the big game, but my fridge is the big name in tasteless magnets.
Let the exhibit be displayed….
Where on earth do I start? Well I’ll let the elephant rest as this is a reasonable facsimile of the mighty beast. The giraffe at the back has clearly been at Ben Johnson’s medicine cabinet, bulked up like an East German shot putter from those halcyon days…We have a zebra that looks like he’s lost his stripes in the wash, the rhino’s horn has to be seen in 3D to work (the animals are raised on the magnet itslef), while the buffalo is in miniature and his legs have run. But the lion and the other spotted cat take the biscuit. You may believe the spots that are on the spotted cats torso are the same as those used for his eyes. You’d be wrong. They are holes….
Notice behind the animals is Kilimanjaro, avec snow. I’m going to keep this for any relatives in the future because Big Al Gore reckons this will be a thing of the past. We have a token tree on the left and the whole magnet is surrounded in a mock shield effect. Truly remarkable. Cheers, Trevor.
The fourth example of fridge magnet genius comes courtesy of my former colleague and fantasy league maestro Gareth who visited New Zealand earlier this year. His brief, which he chose to accept, was to get me a fridge magnet lacking in anything resembling taste. Gareth delivered. This one is so good it deserves two photographs. I cannot convey the majesty of its unutterable tackiness without taking another breath, and hence let the pictures speak for themselves…
Before the next picture let me explain its majesty. On the left we have the thermometer, which quite surprisingly is in remarkably straight. The real excellence is on the right. I’ve chosen two shots where the snowstorm element is in its pomp. The irony of the snowstorm is that many of the pictures behind the scenes are of sunshine, yachting and wineries. Just the type of conditions snow revel in. I have a better snowstorm magnet to come, I can tell you…
Add to the snowstorm, look at the fern…
This fern moves….just brilliant. It moves with the snow. I cannot express my admiration for Gareth’s nose for tat enough. It is without doubt a total masterpiece, and one of the best I have. It takes a prestigious position on the front door of the fridge, and it looks unlikely to be usurped any time soon. There can be no finer honour.
Oh yes, it is the NHL Playoffs, or as they are better known, The Stanley Cup…
Here is my emotional investment. I have always had one team I liked more than any other, but it isn’t a passion or something I get overly excited about. I like the Pittsburgh Penguins.
My wife and sister-in-law, who both comment on here occasionally, are New Jersey Devils fans. When over in the States in January 2008, I went to the Prudential Arena in lovely picturesque (!) Newark to watch the Devils play the Philadelphia Flyers. A report of the game can be found on my other place. I did enjoy it, but just as the first baseball teams I saw were the Yankees and Blue Jays, and I care for neither, then so I couldn’t really care about the Devils. If Pittsburgh don’t win, then maybe it would be nice for the Devils to win for my own American family’s happiness.
However, it looks like, according to the American family, that they may play each other in the Eastern Conference Semis or Finals (it looks to me as though, if they work as a bracket, that the Devils will lose to the Rangers before that ever happens, while the Penguins may lose to the Bruins, but what do I know?) Would it be worth it to me to see my beloved’s unhappiness for a team I “like” rather than “love” to win?
What do you think? Think she would feel the same as a Yankee fan?
Come on The Penguins!!!!
Love you really, Beloved and Sister-In-Law!!!!
Tonight is the first Boston Red Sox v New York Yankees series since the beloved and I got hitched. It may be best for all concerned if the series ends 2-1 to either team, because I fear for my wellbeing, and dinner, on Monday if we’ve swept those overpaid, overhyped losers, while if they sweep… no, I can’t bear the thought of that.
I’ll catch up with the Boston Stats at some later point, but all my attention other than normal duties will be on the Laptop at midnight tonight as we entertain the horrible Evil Empire. Tonight the good guys are represented by the wholesome, clean cut cancer survivor Jon Lester. The scum are represented by a drunk driver called Joba.
Series preview from MLB here. The Joy of Sox preview is here.
Of course I knew what I was getting into marrying a Yankee fan who adores that awful man wearing the number 2 as if he’s the second coming of her husband! And of course she knew what she was marrying when she got a Red Sox fan who has seen his team win a title since the relationship started when she hasn’t!
Still, beloved, you have the Devils.
I don’t really see the point of it, but I’m one of those “just got to have it” types…
Anyway, it is on the right hand side of the blog and is called Dmitri’s Delusional Diminutive Declarations. I may update it when I have little to say…
Well, I wasn’t speechless as the original title of this article was going to say, but BBC Breakfast News approached this story with unbridled glee this morning, with all the relish you would expect from the Beautiful People in West London…. The BBC loathes people who do not conform to the state prescription on health – and if you are overweight, one of the sanctimonious thin presenters will attack the subject with glee. Susannah Reid this morning was beside herself – ooooh, we’ve had loads of e-mails from people saying they agree with Ryanair. I could garner loads of e-mails from people saying we should abolish a public sector broadcaster who demands their licence fee with no choice in the matter. But we wouldn’t want that to be broadcast on Guardian TV, would we?
What’s got my ire in particular? Everyone’s favourite bunch of arseholes, Ryanair, have decided to seek the views of their customers over whether they should charge a “fat tax” on its flights. The Guardian, who obviously caters for the lentil eating lobby, ran the story like this.
Readers who know me will know that I am of above average girth. I think I should confess my sins and say I may well also fall foul of Ryanair’s arbitrary limit on weight. I would also like to point out that flying economy class on any budget airline is akin to hell on earth, while economy on long haul flights is reasonably comfortable. Why is that? It is because companies like Ryanair, and Continental from my experience in the US, treat their customers like cattle and we are herded with no respect. You pay peanuts, you get monkeys. You pay postage fees for flights, you get to sit in an A4 envelope. The flight I took from Newark to Miami was the worst I have ever experienced – whether I was 10 or 20 stone would have made no difference. Ask the vocal thin dudes at the back of the plane. Especially when the barely trained stewardess dropped a drink over them.
I’m rambling off the point. Ryanair are just a bunch of obnoxious pricks, so you can’t really get that annoyed at their stupidity. Thin people, who probably take copious amounts of drugs, seem to think they can get all fucking high and mighty about other’s lifestyle choices without thinking to themselves “they may come after me next” or “don’t you think the airline should cater for those of different physiques other than stick thin and midget?” No, thin people think it is acceptable to pop off at the chunkies in the world. Well, next time a stick thin arsehole has a pop at me to my face, maybe I’ll say I hope they die of an eating disorder. They’ll probably get all self-righteous at me. They generally don’t like it back. Those of limited intelligence, who believe they don’t fall foul of the regulations see the smaller, not the bigger picture. I would prefer not to sit next to someone who hasn’t bathed in three weeks. We going to enforce that one, are we?
However, another point. Look at the picture in the Guardian article. That is a woman’s rear end, if I’m not mistaken, and I’ll wager good money that she is not just over 15 stone, but nearer 30 given that girth. Why show such an extreme example to somehow make the policy acceptable? Insidious fat fascism is what this picture is. I’m a big lad, I know that, but I don’t (I think) have that shape. It is very tough to lose weight (I’ve quit smoking and that was easy compared to this) and yet others never seem to realise it. They believe you can do it easily. Guardianistas quaffing on their Chianti tut tutting at the oiks think we can all just switch to lentils and carrot juice and be done with it. The BBC, or Guardian TV, backs this up.
Imagine my surprise when they lined up stick-thin Anne Diamond for an interview on this subject. I thought we’d be subjected to some sanctimonious cockwaffle, and instead got some reasoned, rational arguments about how insulting this policy is. As I said to the beloved this morning, replace “fat” or “obese” with “disabled” or “black” and run with this policy. I hear people tut tutting and saying the others aren’t lifestyle choices but being fat is. So what? Replace “would you charge fat people” to “would you pay £10 not to sit next to a Muslim with a beard” and I’d bet you’d get some to put their tick in the box. The public can be ignorant, you know.
At the end of the day, it is Ryanair who will be the losers. I’m sure no-one doesn’t currently book with them in case they get a big bloke next to them. But they are definitely bottom of my list when it comes to choosing flights and they’d need to be significantly cheaper than their rivals to warrant my custom.
Last point. How on earth can you legitimately say 20 stone for men and 15 for women? That sets the “stupid prick-ometer” off the chart….
Really last point; I await what us lardies have caused next. We cause global warming. We cause passengers to have uncomfortable flights when airlines don’t provide reasonable facilities. We are a drain on the health service, even though we die younger. What next? They’ll think of something.
UPDATE – Here’s an old Daily Mash story… http://www.thedailymash.co.uk/news/business/ryanair-to-ditch-passengers-in-mid%11flight-20080603996/
And here are Ryanair’s quotes…
“In all cases we’ve limits at very high levels so that a ‘fat tax’ will only apply to those really large passengers who invade the space of the passengers sitting beside them,” said Stephen McNamara of the airline.
“These charges, if introduced, might also act as an incentive to some of our very large passengers to lose a little weight and hopefully feel a little lighter and healthier.”
The Daily Mash article came first…. Frightening. Parody before reality…
Well.. I wasn’t sure what to write about this. I’ve had it on DVD for a while now and have been meaning to watch it. The beloved has never been that keen, so I took the chance this weekend after the Red Sox and Yankees games finished and I had the ironing to do to stick the film on and finish off the weekend.
It was ditchwater dull. I just could not get into it. I had little sympathy for McAvoy’s character, and I thought Whitaker’s performance was hardly Oscar worthy, as it seemed he played the role pretty rigidly and without any great plausability. I am always wary of fictionalised accounts of factual events, hence I’m steering clear at the moment of The Damned United, and this reinforced my view. The plot, as it was, wasn’t up to that much.
Indeed, although I wouldn’t give it one star, as this reviewer did on Amazon, I agree with much of what he said…
5 Stars?? What level of satisfaction do some people have for a movie. This is a tedious non story whose plot is about as opaque as a broken window. What riled me most was the subtle way the film’s credits before and after tried to suggest by association (focussing on what happened to Amin ‘after’ this) that this film was in some ways an historic document. Once you wake up to the fact the Scottish doctor never existed and that none of this is anything more than fiction in front of an imagined factual backgound you have to ask yourself what is it for. It casts no fresh light on Amin. Its makers could be forgiven if it was a great story well acted, but it is neither (Whiteker’s Amin is a masterclass in over playing and McAvoy was a much more convincing character as the boyfriend in Early Doors).
Don’t waste your saturday night.
I don’t think it was a waste of time, but I do think a serial maniac like Amin can’t be played in a fictional context, because his horrors were all too real. We have the hackneyed old cliche of a British diplomat being a total arse – they all are, of course – and the little Scotlander context of course. But overall, I’d give it 5/10 as it really failed to hold my attention. Maybe another watch and I’ll see bits I missed as the dog was driving me crackers and the ironing was more awkward than usual…..
“Rafa Refuses To Concede The Title!”
It is that time of year again, folks, where the papers and internet sites and 24 hour sports news networks need something to fill the boring weeks, and what we have instead of news is crap like this above. So because Liverpool drop two points at home to Arsenal, and the unlikely becomes the improbable, we are all on tenterhooks to see, or hear, if Rafa is going to jack it all in and say “to hell with it, let’s play the kids. Would you mind awfully if I f*cked off to Madrid for a bit of a siesta? It’s all your’s Manchester United.”
But the press (written, spoken and visual) love all this mindless pap. In much the same way as Rafa is not giving up on his only remote hope of a trophy this season, so Alan Shearer isn’t conceding that Newcastle United are as good as down. Instead he’s told all his players TO BELIEVE. In what, I know not. But then they’ve always been f*cking deluded up there, so it might as well be Keegan’s 4th coming…
No. It is brainless time, as the networks figure out that the only suspense is how much Man Utd are going to win the league by, and the near certainty that we’ll be seeing a witless load of blubbering North Easterners come season end as it finally dawns on them that their team(s) was/were crap.
Anyway, back to this refusal to concede cobblers. Who the hell gave it to Rafa Benitez to concede anyway? Did he own it? Was it in the palm of his hand only to see it dribble away through his fingers? Is this nonsense a ritual? Has anyone ever conceded the title, then by some fluke won it, and said “no, no, no. I conceded it. Fair’s fair. Manchester United heard my concession, played Darren Fletcher instead of Ronaldo for the rest of the season, and they lost the title. They really should have it.” Of course not. It is fucking witless pap.
And I’ve written too much on it already. But what worries me is that it isn’t always the stupid end of the newspaper market that perpetrates this old cobblers. Cue Rory Smith….
Arsene Wenger refused to concede last year, citing that old charmer, the mathematics…
The Special One, in 2007, was also in “Eu recuso conceder” mode in 2007, after a home draw with Bolton of all teams. Again, dear old mathematics, when not used to count up money, was to blame for such obstinacy.
In 2006, the Crimson Snide himself refused to bow to the inevitability of back-to-back championships by Chelsea by way of a graceless refusal to concede. Still, he was asked to jack it in in February! Arsene Wenger also refused to concede the title. Given these idiots were asking him in October, it seems that concessions are required much earlier than is prudent. Maybe they had some inkling that he was the “giving up” sort with his shock horror admission that he was conceding the title before mathematics made it impossible in December of that year. Maybe he was “tipping them off” for an early concession. Why didn’t they go to Tony Mowbray last May? In any case, in 2004-5, Wenger conceded the title before the mathematics… the quitter.
There are countless examples on the net. McLeish refusing to concede the title to Celtic after a home defeat in 2005. Steven Gerrard in 2006. Guus Hiddink partakes in another refusal…
Lord, it is a dull old job this reporter’s life. Filling papers and internet columns with pap like this. It makes you want to concede your life to your maker….
I would now like to hand you over to Sky’s Geoff Shreeves who is the Patron Saint of Banal Bollocks, who will ask this now of any “title chaser” if they so much as drop a point from here on in.
…”Quentin Tarantino has a new film coming out.”
Cue overwrought analysis by his chief town crier in the UK, Jonathan Ross. Cue a myriad of reviews of this “genius’s” work despite the fact in most rational people’s eyes, he ain’t released a decent film in eons (and in my eyes, he hasn’t ever released one if his best, Pulp Fiction, is anything to go by). No Quentin’s ego will be massaged, he’ll be told how brilliant he is because his dialogue is just so “fucking clever” and the world will keep on turning.
I thought Pulp Fiction was unutterable wank, and turned it off after an hour of utter tedium. However, everyone else tells me I’m wrong. So maybe I’m a bit biased….
I know Robin will be ever so disappointed not to get a live budget update this year, but I have tax matters of a different kind on my mind as I wend my way over to the Embassy of the Ungrateful Colonies to drink tea, play cricket and get me some of one letter different from a terrorist’s stimulus package.
I would recommend heartily a look at the Daily Mash today.
My favourite bits are as follows. From the article on building a rubber car…
“But ministers insist they can be used as an alternative to lowering speed limits after research showed that 80% of drivers ‘bought a car with more than two fucking gears for a reason, thank you very much’.”
And in the same article…
A child safety campaign highlighting the benefits has also been launched with the slogan: “Hit me at 30mph and you’ll go ‘boing’. Hit me at 40mph and you’ll go ‘booooooiiiiiinnnnng’.”
From the article on the Terrorist arrests…
An inquiry will now be launched into why the prime minister was allowed to scare the shit out of everyone, though experts insist it may just have had something to do with the news agenda.
A police spokesman said: “We were really hoping to charge them with conspiracy to go to the shops and buy some crisps and Tizer, but according to our lawyers that that is not an actual offence, as yet.
And in the same article…
A spokesman for home secretary Jacqui Smith said: “Embarrassed? No, we’re way, way beyond embarrassment at this stage.
“That’s a bit like asking a streaker if he’s embarrassed because he hasn’t shaved.”
Finally, the article on Brown’s new expenses proposal…
“Mr Brown has proposed abolishing the controversial £24,000 a year second home allowance and replacing it with a £25,000 a year dragging-your-fat-arse-into-work allowance.
Under the old scheme MPs would have to submit receipts to the Commons authorities, thereby allowing the public to at least speculate on the titles and content of the pornography.
Under the new scheme MPs will get around £170 a day just for being where they are supposed to be, but crucially will not have to submit receipts, allowing them to use taxpayers’ money to watch as many Hungarian donkey films as they want.”
Have a good day, everyone.
And so on to Exhibit C. One thing that scores high on my Tatometer is the presence of a thermometer on my magnets. They are, of course, of utterly no use whatsoever. That’s the point. They rarely resemble the ambient temperature in the house, they are nearly always wonky on the magnet, and well… I just don’t get existentialism, so I called in a builder.
This magnet says it all….
What on earth were the Swede’s thinking? Heaven knows what the hell this is supposed to represent! Is it supposed to be funny? I’m assuming the moose is expressing a trait well known in the species for vandalism and chaviness, by vandalising a road sign to indicate that this is where he crosses the road? Hence he has black ink and a brush. Where’s the road? Why is the sun shining in the background? Where do the trees stop and the grass begin? At least you get mooses in Sweden. Jake the Border Collie tried to sabotage this piece by deleting loads of the text. A pooch who loathes fridge magnets. But like the Swedish spirit, this magnet survives the harshest of tests….
Add to this, the wondrous thermometer, in nice and wonkily, and you have tat for tat’s sake. Magnificent stuff.
My thanks to Liz for this and other excellent examples of the art which will be along in due course…. Bet you can’t wait.
I’m saving some of the really truly dismal magnets for much later in the piece. However, the next two exhibits are worthy of their place (a) because they are simplistically anodyne; and (b) I am grateful for the gifts from my correspondents..
So, to exhibit B..
Wisconsin - aka The Badger State or The Dairy State. Nope, not a sign of a badger or a cow here… Famous for cheese, and brewing in Milwaukee, the largest city, we instead get some old mooses and something that could be passed off as one of their emblems, the White-tailed Deer. There are trees, and what looks like a worryingly sized golf ball about to hit the poor little deer in the head. Cruelty or surreal.. you can read much into this art. If you are mad.
Such a magnet, flat in design with no really exciting features, just some generic old pap for a punter like me to lap up like a demented badger marooned away from his sett, fits the fridge concept perfectly. It doesn’t fall off. It doesn’t get damaged when you sling open the fridge door at night, and…well. It just sits there.
My utmost thanks to Audrey, the beloved’s very good friend, for this purchase. Another of her concept-fitting purchases will be along later… Another state theme as well… Can you guess where it is yet?
