It's the finale of season 7 of Smallville tonight in my little world. There's nothing I enjoy more in bed at night than a good climax. Clark hasn't figured out that Kara is in fact Brainiac and this of course is why Lana is still in a coma.
Lex has discovered the Fortress of Solitude and will no doubt attempt to take control of Clark but since he doesn't have tits I can't see him succeeding.
I ordered season 8 on the Amazons a few days ago but it has not arrived yet. What will I do if it still hasn't arrived by tomorrow!? I mean, what else is there to do in bed at night before one goes to sleep, especially on a Friday night?
So now, in the north some councils have used public monies to buy up an enormous load of salt shakers that have five holes in them instead of seventeen and are dishing them out to Fish and Chip shops free as they believe this could cut the salt intake of some northerns by half. Also these salt shakers will be hidden from view like cigarettes and really grotty bongo magazines so customers actually have to ask for it.
Is this nanny state interfering nonsense, or a sensible fair enough attempt to cut people's salt intake? Hmmm I'm going to say yes on the nanny state option on this occasion.
Let's ignore the maths of how many times 5 goes into 17...this claim of cutting the individuals salt intake by half would surely only hold sway if the individual didn't have any salt at home, didn't eat anywhere else and didn't ask the server person to shake that lovely salt shaker twice as long as usual.
Also, are people going to feel ashamed of asking for salt in the same way they might be asking the man behind the counter of the papershop whether April's addition of Wet n' Wild is in yet.
The problem I have with turning Fish and Chip shops into places you only usually find in the seedier parts of town is that it's a typical Government ploy of treating a symptom rather than curing the disease.
People in't north are more susceptible to heart disease because of their diet, but why? It's usally because they don't have the monies to purchase proper food, or have the time to cook it. This is why kids have crisps for tea. Some kids don't even have the energy to go out and stab people anymore is what I've heard.
To me this is just one more depressing piece of evidence that we're doomed. We're a lost cause. No one running the country really has any idea of how to deal with the real problems..the problems that cause enormous people to pile salt onto their chips, so they make these token gestures instead so they can be seen to be caring and seen to be tackling the problems.
Meanwhile people will just get fatter as they'll resort to ketchup or die anyway from a heart attack from reading about their local council banning salt shakers from view and getting so pissed off their hearts just burst.
This beauty of a hand comes from the Norton's wine bar £20 freeze-out which Alan and I experienced for the first time last night. The starting stack is 6,500. If you bust out in the first two levels you can buy back in.
I think this was the first level. As we're new to this game we have no information on any players. However, it's a £20 freeze-out in a Wine bar in Witney so some of the players are doing well just to pick their cards up without an opposable thumb. One guy hasn't learnt yet how to use a chair.
For the purposes of anonymity the player in seat 3 will be called 'Seat 3,' the player in seat 4 will called 'Seat 4' and the player on the button will be called 'Button.' Snappy names. I'm not entirely sure how the action unfolded as I went a bit dizzy, but I think it went something like this;
We're ten handed:
Seat 3 (utg) limps, Seat 4 raises (I think) to 200. Folded round to Button who calls, blinds fold, Seat 3 calls.
Pot is 675.
Flop: Qd - Kd - 9d. I believe everyone checked.
Turn: Jd. Seat 3 checks, Seat 4 bets out 500. Button calls. Seat 3 check-raises to 2000.
We have seen Seat 4's cards, he has the Ace-four of diamonds and therefore had flopped the second nuts, losing only to a straight flush...what does Seat 3 have and what does Seat 4 now do?
Doris, Vera and Bernice being fed poison yesterday
The older generation usually have Biblical names don't they? Most common rooms in your average old peoples death house will have a Rose or a Bernice or an Esther. But how come so many women pensioners are called Doris and Vera? What's the origin of those ubiquitous pensioner monikers? Why are there never any young people called Vera and Doris? Just old people.
Are they Celtic names? Are Doris and Vera pagans? Is that why they never enjoy a childhood and go so slow when it isn't sunny?
Telegraph dude who clearly can't be arsed to actually do his job writes there's no pilots to do the job in Libya:
But when you get to the last two paragraphs, the bit where he hopes most people have stopped reading we find out that this is actually bullshit:
Air Marshal Dick Garwood, Deputy Commander-in-Chief Operations, said there was no shortage of pilots. “We have enough aircraft and people to carry out all the tasks placed on us,” he said.
MoD sources suggested that the Libyan conflict vindicated the decision to retain the Tornado over the Harrier as there were more pilots in the pool and it had a greater reconnaissance and strike capability.
One of the first people to get hold of the iPad2, which to me has always looked like an iPhone for pensioners and people with poor eyesight, has already begun queuing for the next one. Apparently his obsession with Apple gadgets and more specifically purchasing them before anyone else in the world has completely destroyed the parts of his brain that regulate need, rationality and irony and made him an utter twat.
The man has a stack of gadgets piled up on the pavement outside the Regents Street Apple store. None of them opened; iPhones, iPods, iPads, Macbook airs etc..one of the Apple store employees valued his unopened gadgetry at a staggering £350,000. "Apparently he can't even type," said the store assistant. "He just queues for new stuff, never goes home. We call him the iTwat."
The 27 year old man who can't be named because when he was asked what it was he was blubbering like a bitch about the state of his underpants so no one could make out a fucking word he was saying, apparently left the store clutching his prized possession and instead of going home to unwrap his prize he sat right back down on the pavement.
Psychologist Franz Beckenbauer from the University of Berlin has had the man under surveillance since the launch of the iPhone (GS) two years ago explained, "he's mad now, he's been ruined by a form of OCD. He cannot function because of his paralyzing fear that Apple might launch a new product when he is on his way home.
Professor Bekenbauer's Apple OCD equations are pretty conclusive.
"The thought of someone else in the world being able to manage their applications in a slightly different way or sitting in a coffee shop with an older model of an Apple gadget has kept him in that same spot outside that Apple store for four years now.
"The irony of course, is that he hasn't even unwrapped any of these gadgets and so his condition is preventing him from doing the very thing that has brought him here in the first place. It's a vicious circle. He doesn't even know what stacks are.
"No, he just cries now. He cries because he can't move. He won't even go to the toilet. We estimate he is wallowing in nearly half his body weight in faeces. He is my life work..in his case an Apple a day will not keep the Doctor away no hahahahahahaha."
Have you seen that video on the YouToobs where a spoiled girl 'McKenzie' gets all stroppy because the car her Dad has bought for her is the wrong colour? It's fake, but it's still an example of how completely out of kilter with reality people can get when they're too used to having everything they ask for.
We unfortunately have become a nation of McKenzies. You see now Britain over the past thousand years have given many an invading army a damned good thrashing and come through a hideously bloody civil war to protect it's Sovereignty and build for itself a democratic society where freedom and liberty for all are guaranteed. We fought for everything we had and thus took none of it for granted.
Over those thousand years many many millions of people died fighting for this cause and in horrible hideously bloody ways before the invention of modern weaponry expedited the killing process. Many a man was speared through the jugular with an arrow fired from 200 yards away or hacked to death with a blunt sword.
So you'd think really if two or three Prime Ministers who haven't done a days proper hard graft between them made attempts to simply sign away that hard fought after Sovereignty over the course of twenty years, the British people might have something to say about it. Ha ha, but no. In fact, no one gives a shit. Many people either don't know it's happening or don't really care.
Before invading Iraq about a million people marched to protest about us invading another 'Sovereign nation'. Most of whom had picked up the term 'Sovereign nation' from the telly. Not in my name they whined. But when the Sovereignty of their own country was being eroded away treaty by treaty as they spoke they simply didn't notice or care or understand.
This is because vast swathes of the nation have now been reduced by a Fabian coup d'état both physically and intellectually to the level of primates. It's all most people can do to eat a custard tart without getting most of it down their front.
History, real history, is not taught in schools anymore specifically because the state does not want our wee ones actually appreciating the value of Sovereignty. They don't want our wee ones understanding what we have come through to get where we are. This makes it much easier to sign it away without resistance from them when they become adults.
Schools no longer teach our wee ones to read either, because then they might read history books they don't have access to at schools and learn by themselves that they're not living in a democracy anymore. And of course the family unit has also been largely done away with as this traditionally is really how children learn the ways of the world.
Much better to encourage women to get knocked up in a pub toilet and not remember who the hell the bloke was than to continue having families. Families lead to communities where people talk to each other and are sociable and have funny ideas about how those communities should be run.
Because now whole generations are dependent on state monies, because we're being bribed with our own money, and a life time on benefits is essentially a lifestyle choice and actually working for a living becomes increasing difficult, we have lost the ability to think for ourselves and take care of ourselves. Consequently we have anarchists who far from wanting to smash the state as anarchists by definition are want to do...our anarchists want it protected!
Without a hint of irony British 'anarchists' will march in their thousands protesting against the shrinking of the state! Instead of smashing the state, they will smash up Top Shop instead as a protest again capitalism man or something.
And while their doing this they'll continually have to pull up their Diesel jeans, exposing their Calvin Klein underwear while being filmed by a fellow anarchist on his iPhone. Capitalists I shit 'em they cry.
A protester probably with a rich father exposing his CK undies yesterday
All of this in the wake of previous demonstrations from students who flatly refuse to accept that they ought to pay for their own education. Now of course, the final irony is these 'cuts' are all bullshit anyway.
Over the course of this Parliament George Osborne will spend more than the last Government. The cuts are precision incisions to the armed forces, the education system etc all simply to make it look like he's being ruthless and confronting the deficit, but actually just voluntarily making us more dependent on the EU.
This way Dave can say our integration into an EU superstate is not his fault and something that has come about because Gordon Brown fucked everything up for us. Meanwhile Ed Miliband, who still hasn't finished painting that ceiling, will play along and pretend the plight of TUC members is akin to the fucking civil rights movement in America and the anti-apartheid movement in South Africa.
Ed Miliband with Dulux in his hair yesterday.
Perspective is always the first thing that needs to be jettisoned when brainwashing a nation. All of this has a disorientating effect on the millions of primates in this country who cannot think for themselves and are simply unable to distinguish between not being able to afford the new iPad and being tortured for having dark skin.
While the middle east erupts in civil wars and protesters are carried off in the night by the secret police of the Despots who are clinging to power by any means necessary, tortured or killed...we here in this country smash up the Ritz Hotel because if things continue the way they are some of us might not be able to afford two cars, and if that happens it won't be long before we can't even chose the colour of the one car we can afford! And how's that gonna look?
Only three friendlies for Chepo to sort the boys out before the Gold Cup. Tonight versus Paraguay the hardest of the three. Efrain and Vela back after their ban for doing appalling things to a tranny stripper. Ochoa given another chance in goal. Should be fun...why not join us at the live blog? It's not as if you had anything else planned...
There's a chap in the Canada's who spends a lot of his time putting unopened decks of cards into glass milk bottles. Bottles that have not been tampered with in any way. No one in the galaxy knows how he does it. His name is Jame D. Grant. He's very clever. You can buy them for $100 so I thought I'd have one and then when people came over to see me to check I'd eaten all of my soup we'd have something to talk about.
In other mysterious news, I lost 70% of battery power from my iPhone last night! Who's had that away I wonder? The battery monkey has come a visitin'. I had 83% of battery left when I finished composing some crucial tweets about Smallville and when I wakes up this morning I's only got 13%! I bet Brainiac took it. Or Lana to power all the computrons she's got set up to spy on Lex.
I've really gone off Lana. She's mental now. She wears black leather and speaks in silly whispery tones which I think are supposed to be sinister and sultry but in her Canadian accent just sounds daft. Some accents are just not seductive. It's why women in Cornwall aren't allowed to speak.
Well anyway, I don't know what it's all meant to be but she's fooling no one and it's all very tiresome. I mean I'd of course never hit a woman, but it came with some relief when Clark had to knock her about a bit to get her to drop this absurd La femme Nikita routine.
Finally it's come as a blessing in disguise that I've had to pull out of the APAT event in Coventry. I will now be able to enjoy Mexico's slaughtering of Paraguay. I assume this would have been shown in the Casino, but you don't want to take the chance do you?
I received a copy of George Osborne's budget today. The real one, not the nonsense meaningless one he's reading out in the House of Commons as we speak. Apparently, by 2015 it'll be cheaper for a family living in a two bedroom semi to heat their home by actually setting fire to money than by using central heating.
Apparently even though the nuclear facilities in Japan actually survived an Earth quake five times more powerful than it was designed to withstand, followed by a friggin' tsunami and the complete destruction of the entire infrastructure of that region, the eco-fanatics will have their way and nuclear energy will continue to be seen as one disaster away from the end of the world. Further nuclear power plants will not now be commissioned to fill the cavernous gap in our energy shortfalls and the prices charged by the French will be so prohibitive we might as well huddle round a ball of burning tenners.
Yes, despite the fact the most people in the Japanese earthquake died being crushed under roads and buildings and more people will die from the insanitary conditions of water and living conditions from non-nuclear pollutants (no one is suggesting we shouldn't build any of these things) nuclear power will continue to be seen through the lens of Chernobyl.
The nuclear facilities in Fukushima seem to have been the safest places to be in fact, yet all this means nothing to the sandal wearing beard sporting carrot juice drinkers who refuse to even look at the science let alone understand it.
As a consequence of all this it is mathematically impossible for our deficit to be reduced let alone the national debt as we pump billions and cabillions and cazillions into Chris Huhne's economically disastrous renewable energy concepts including inefficient wind farms and the absurd portable fart capture bags originally developed by NASA to be issued to everyone with green veg in their diet.
So anyway yes, at the big house this morning it was determined that my attempting a two day pokering event in my current condition would be tricky. It was agreed the lack of opportunities to take power naps was the biggest stumbling block.
Also of course, the clocks go forward on Saturday which means losing an hour of lovely sleep once we do finally make it home. And given that making day 2 would probably mean a 3am finish anyway, losing this extra will probably mean arriving home at 6am in a state of delirium almost certainly with dribble down my chin and front.
I would then sleep through day 2 anyway, so instead I'm staying in and will watch season 7 and 8 of Smallville stopping only to enjoy some nice soup I bought today. I may venture out to the Abingdons on Sunday for their game as they only last for four hours I can easily stay awake that long if I jab forks into my side.
So right, I gets this letter this morning from my CF clinic. They've rescheduled my appointment in June...by fifteen minutes! Was it really necessary for them to let me know by mail? It's not as if their clinics run to the second. And what's occurring in that fifteen minutes I wonder that I can't be seen at the original time?
In other news I was able to win the Pigeons game last night I think because everyone else was pissed. This has left me wrestling with a curious dilemma. You see, due to being old now and up to 35% more wheezy than the same time last year, I had conceded the APAT events might be beyond me now, but I'd of course like one more crack at completing the almost mythical Pigeons/APAT double.
At the time of writing I haven't been able to figure out how I can manage the whole weekend given my nap and oxygen requirements, however I will be going to the big house tomorrow and perhaps we'll be able to explore some pharmaceutical options that may boost my energy levels. I've heard tell of Scrabble players for example lacing soup with EPO.
Should this not be possible I shall spend Saturday eating sammiches and watching season 7 of Smallville where I hope Clark will finally buy some new jackets cause the red one he always wears is silly.
How many of those jackets has he got? He's always being set on fire and things yet at the end of the episode he's still wearing the same red jacket. He must have hundreds of them. He's been wearing them for seven years. What shop sells them?
Don't they ever wonder why he's always buying the same jacket? I bet they nudge each other when he comes in....it's that guy again come in to buy some more red jackets I bet.
As you know the MotoGP season begins today in Qatar. This is of course awesome. Our hero Valentino Rossi unfortunately only has one good shoulder at the moment so won't be competitive for a few weeks.
This means Casey Stoner, barring alien abductions, is a penalty kick for this GP so we shall be investing chunkily in him and supplementing this wager with a double bet on Chelsea to beat Manchester City today who have players who can't dress themselves.
The footage of Mario Balotelli struggling to put his bib on prior to the game against Dynamo Kiev in mid-week must be a goldmine of information for a sports psychologist. That few minutes sums up the player's personality and approach to the game perfectly.
He makes one or two attempts to put his bib on, fails and instead of persevering he just gives up and throws it away like a frustrated child, eventually someone has to do it for him. That is how he plays the game to a tee. Initially he is enthusiastic, but if after ten minutes he feels things aren't going his way, instead of sticking at it, he just gives up and eventually the team have to do his job for him.
I know footballers are selfish and ego-centric but he shows legitimate cause for psychiatric evaluation. He makes Narcissus seem quite humble.
* * *
**Update
Having missed the game due to nap time, I was angered to see this headline on the Telegraph home page, only to read on and discover it was a typo. Phew.
I just spend a nano-second trying to figure out why we're about to start a war with Libya and not with Bahrain or Yemen. It was easier than the Daily Mail crossword. Apart from BP having biwyans of monies invested in Libyan oil, and none in Bahrain and Yemen, it's only Libya that has recently humiliated us and the US of States by having a convicted terrorist released and then having a two day long nationwide party to celebrate after promising it would be kept hush hush.
The first available opportunity to settle the score and we've taken it. But in typical fashion we've ballsed it up and waited too long. This will end badly. Not only is our intervention too late, we might now have brought another Lockerbie type terrorist attack down on ourselves and this time it will be the Libyans who are responsible not Iran and Syria who were obviously responsible for the Pan-Am bombing.
Do we never learn? Did we learn absolutely nothing from Iraq? If Cameron insists that this is necessary well fine then, but good luck explaining why, in his efforts to cut our deficit, all public services must be fucking useless for the next twenty years. If there's money for bullshit wars Mr Cameron, then surely we must be able to stump up a few quid for some nurses and policemen?
How is this being allowed to happen without rioting in the streets? People will protest in their thousands at having to pay for their own education, but when it comes to preventing yet another Prime Minister eager to play at being Winston Churchill from starting another pointless ill-fated war, everyone's busy.
We're doomed. Doomed. I'm moving to Africa where it's safe.
I love how wrong the Chinese get things some times. Like the shopping mall at Christmas where they had Santa on a cross, this Royal wedding china tea cup is a gem of a well intentioned fail. With Harry instead of William and Harry looking so pleased this is the must have drinking vessel of the week. I'm starting to warm to the idea of China being in charge of the world, it could be both fun and terrifying all at once. I'm buying one as we speak, I suggest you do the same.
Yesterday was not a good day on many fronts and levels. The Gods have been in touch this morning to apologise for the festival tips they gave me, explaining they were actually meant for my namesake from somewhere in Lincolnshire who they wanted to make suffer. Admin error they said, but to make up for it they've told me to lump on Twentyfourcarat in the bumber at about 20s.
Over the course of the evening I managed to plummet my oxygen sats to a new low of 59%. I'm not sure of the long term consequences of doing that to myself, but I don't intend to find out.
Reaching a level of breathlessness where multi-tasking becomes impossible is not how I wish to spend my evenings. By multi-tasking I'm talking about my bodily functions. I can breath, but I can no longer guarantee I'll be able to control my bladder, or be able to listen to you if you're talking to me, and I definitely won't be able to respond.
In real terms, we will now have to accept that I can't function efficiently for longer than four hours without the comforting flow of lovely o2 wafting up my nostrils. Without O2 I am no more sentient than someone who works for the Post Office.
I of course knew that this day would come. CF when you break it down is just a life time of bending over backwards, making one concession after another to the condition to maintain some semblance of quality of life until you become a mindless gibbering vegetable anyway and wonder what the point of it all was.
Only joking of course. But I will have to get over my self-consciousness about using O2 in the publics if I'm to go to Coventry next week to bask in the glory of becoming the Amateur poker champion of the galaxy. I shall thrash this dilemma out with myself these next few days and get back to you.
* * *
Speaking of bending over backwards..In other news.. a £50 freeze-out broke out in the pub last night, but I was unfortunately too knackered to participate. I was also unable to tolerate how cockney they were. They made Danny Dyer look like Henry Higgins from Pygmalion. Three of them actually were wearing cor blimey trousers.
They were so cockney that when they walked they were leant so far backwards the back of their heads were scrapping on the floor. I had no idea what they were saying, but they were saying it so loud I felt positively queasy. It was an appalling assault on the Queen's English.
Apparently they played a lot and thought it was going to be easy money. In fact they had just strolled voluntarily into the poker equivalent of the Battle of Balaclava. Not since that fateful charge by the light brigade into heavy Russian artillery has an opposition been so fatally underestimated. There's a seat in the Pigeons game for any of them if they're still here on Sunday.
"I'm from Laaaardan, ooooooo wants to play pokaaaaah?"
The Gods texted me last night to say they'd changed their mind about the Supreme Novices. This will apparently be won by Recession Proof now. I believe the original jock who would booked to ride this horse has busted his leg and Choc Thornton will now take his place. This has pleased the Gods.
9/1. Put a kidney and your retinas on Ebay to finance this wager if you need to.
I've just finished a very production session of divination. As per usual before the Cheltenham Festival I put a nappy on, rubbed some shit on my face and sat in a clearing in some waste land behind what used to be the town's only open air swimming pool and emptied my little bag of bones onto the ground. The secrets of the festival's opening day were laid bare before me*
It is these I'd like to share with you at this time. I'm afraid I can only offer you four winners, but it's better than a kick in the bread tray what?
You can of course have as much on as you want with these as they're as certain as reading the results in the Racing Post on Wednesday.
So here they are then: Zaidpour, Medermit, Reve de Sivola and Oscar Whisky. I'm afraid I don't have prices as I can't be arsed to look them up. I should think you'll be able to make a few thousand though at small to medium stakes if you put them all in multiples.
Thank me later.
*Of course, I have no idea how to interpret a pile of old chicken bones so it probably isn't as assured as actually reading the results in the paper the next day. Plus of course I didn't actually do this and have just picked four horses at random.But I see no reason why this approach to betting the festival might be any less successful than actually researching the form.
Woohoo. I've succeeded in producing probably the only Tokyo Rollerball jersey in the entire galaxy. And a lot trickier than it might seem it was too. I feel like celebrating by stoving someone's head in with a metal studded glove.
3/14 is pi day. I will celebrate with pie for lunch. I will postpone nap time until after 1.59:26pm when I will enjoy a steak and kidney pie and I suggest you all do the same.
I've only been tweeting as Belgium for a day and already diplomatic relations with North Korea are breaking down. It began this evening when I noticed this tweet from North Korean.
I immediately countered with this:
Hopefully by Tuesday I'll have that nuclear exchange I was talking about in my previous post.
It's entertainment when a giant lizard is tearing up Japan, but when it's an earthquake it's suddenly not quite so funny? Hypocrites.
I tell you what this whole pray for Japan business has my dander fully erected. People tweeting messages of sympathy to a country? That as far as I'm aware is as insincere a means of conveying condolence as is currently available.
An earthquake, followed by a tsunami and potential nuclear disaster and all people can manage is, #prayforJapan because they're limited to only 140 characters. Sandwiched between tweets about Justin Bieber and Clive Tyldesley an RIP message for the dead in Japan is just a fucking insult.
Just don't bother. You don't care. If a tweet is all you can manage you definitely don't care. There's nothing wrong with not caring. I don't care. I wouldn't care if it happened here. We've all got issues to deal with and I'm more concerned with what Lionel Luthor is up to than what's happening in Japan.
What's going on here?: Lionel and Martha Kent yesterday
We can't help these people, I'm not even sure if they are people, we can't change history and they're the ones who built a series of fucking nuclear facilities on one of the world's most notorious fault lines in the first place. Selfish bastards, take us all down with you.
And bollocks to giving them money too. Jesus. What's wrong with people in this country?? They're the third largest economy in the world. They can cope with this. We can't even afford to put petrol in our children. Or feed our cars.
I swear we're all living in dream land where the UK still owns the planet and we have inexhaustible funds to sort everyone's shit out and we're just choosing not to finance the rebuilding of our own country and voluntarily live in a stinking shit hole with no education system or health care or police force or transport network and bread that costs more than a fucking rolex. Japan could have six more of these disasters this week and they're still in better shape than us.
And what good is a fucking prayer anyway? Urgh, I hate it when people say that. Some one develops aggressive brain cancer and a sanctimonious sandal wearing cunt in a sarong offers to pray for them. Yeah cheers cause that'll help. If there was a God and he was going to help, he wouldn't have mashed the persons brains up in the first place.
I'm of the opinion a massive nuclear disaster wiping out pretty much everyone is about the only thing that'll save the species. Sort of like re-booting. We need to start again and this time not invent telly and instead of wasting time trying to keep hold of India we need to divert military resources across the Atlantic to win the war of Independence and stop America from ever happening. All the shit in the world can be regressed back to the birth of America.
Alright well I've said my piece, I'll bid you good day.
This weekend's wild stab in the dark has been a Cardiff/Nottingham Forest double with the remaining £73 in my Sky Bet account. I see no reason why this shouldn't come in, after all as we all know Cardiff are on a great run at the moment scoring several goals and passing the ball an awful lot while Nottingham Forest have been equally effective erm..in the last third.
Later on today after nap time I will be mostly not watching Arsenal. I've no desire to see them take another dicking. I see no reason why this won't be the same old story. Arsenal pass the ball around but lose. I know you shouldn't judge a book by it's cover, but I'm afraid you also shouldn't compare Arsenal to a book. A book has a spine for one thing.
Instead I will eat some doughnuts I bought earlier and research Belgium.
Colonel Gaddafi's prayers for something more sensational to occur than his bloody campaign of revenge on those who mistakenly thought they could oust him have been answered with a massive earthquake in Japan which caused a Tsunami that could cause a nuclear disaster.
Gaddafi was reported as saying to God, "the earthquake would have been enough, but cheers anyway." The world's media has now forgotten what's happening in northern Africa and can barely contain it's excitement at the thought of some proper nuclear devastation the likes of which we haven't seen since Chenobyl.
Daily Mail staff reporters have been climaxing on average three times every hour since the earthquake two days ago. David Cameron has had to learn several new serious faces to use in press interviews as he does not want his 'let's go to war frowns' to be confused with his 'let's pray for Japan condolence furrowing of the brow.
In order to kill some time between naps I've taken on another twitter account. I noticed that Belgium isn't tweeting at the moment and I think they should as they have so much to offer.
Since I have the time I decided I thought I'd take on the task myself until they join the 21st century and do it themselves.
You can find me/them by clicking on the picture on the left. Belgium as we all know is just about the most irrelevant country anywhere really, which I think is why they "agreed" to house the EU monstrosity there.
Belgium is only famous for being in the path of various armies who were on the way to a war somewhere. Most of the great armies at one point in history or another have rifled their way through Belgium on there way to somewhere better. It's quite appropriate for the EU member states to trample through it again under the guise of democracy.
It was more honest when it was armies. At least you knew who to avoid. I feel sorry for Belgians really. It's us next of course. Who'll tweet for us I wonder? We're doomed.
We've all heard the old joke about strikers being nicknamed 'jigsaw' because they go to pieces in the box. Nicklas Bendtner has just taken that joke to a new level becoming the first professional footballer to go to pieces in three different boxes in 24 hours.
He shows the first touch of a rapist at the Nou Camp messing up Arsenal's only chance of the entire game. He then goes out on the piss to a club called the Box where as I understand it he started crying because the best tables were taken and later on that evening he performed so poorly in bed that his new girlfriend hadn't realised they'd started let alone finished.
According to my sources she was overheard by the taxi driver who took her home, admitting to Bendtner on the phone she was surprised by how utterly useless he was as a man given how he comes across as such a cocky little gob shite all the time on telly.
At nap time today I dreamed of putting cheese on tomato soup. Now this had been suggested to me recently by my dietitian, but I wasn't sure if she was being serious as I had never heard some a balmy notion before. Also she had nice boots on and I was focused on them so couldn't be sure I hadn't misheard.
I'm going to try it this evening. I'm a bit apprehensive. I mean it's not as if you can separate it from the soup if it's not nice. I could ruin a perfectly good bowl of soup and given how little there is going on in my life during these winter months, this would be a big deal.
Theoretically of course there should not be a problem. Cheese as we all know compliments tomatoes very well. It's the textures though that concern me. I will have to let the cheese melt. It's crucial I let the cheese melt.
Do you know who Jill Duggen is? I didn't either until this morning. She's the woman who's going to kill us all. She's the British head cheese on carbon trading. She wants to reduce the carbon emissions of the European Union member states by 20% by 2020 despite the fact that the economic consequences will see us all starving to death because food will be a luxury item has everyone turns to prostitution to pay their energy bills.
She has no idea how much her master plans will cost (at least $250billion) or what the eventual benefits on global temperature reduction will be (max 0.05 degrees). All she does seem to know is that her efforts will almost certainly not work as India and China's emissions alone make any reductions the European state makes completely irrelevant.
The interview is Here: it begins about half way through the recording. It's actually quite difficult to listen to as her arguments are destroyed and it becomes terrifyingly clear has no idea what she's talking about.
Why has no British journalist been able to make such a mockery of the biggest scam in all of human history? The BBC are so sold on this idea that it's impossible for an interview like this be aired in this country.
Today was a roller coaster of emotions. I'm quite exhausted and I should think I'll have to sleep until probably Thursday now to recover. I was up early doors as Denis Wise would say. It was cold outside. A harsh cold, but I was even colder on the inside.
Only a few hours hence I had sat in tears and watched while Lex seduced Lana. I was so wrong about her. She is nothing but a tease. She doesn't deserve Clark anyway. He sacrificed so much for her. He just wanted Lana to be safe and she repays him by jumping straight onto the cock of the man who could destroy him forever. Oh that poor boy.
Well Lex will come to regret his betrayal. Not literally however as Lana is obviously a precious cock tease. The kind of girls you meet in Merca who are all tight buns and soft seductive voice, but would rather suck the venom from a rattle snake than an honest to goodness penis. Orphan bitch. I bet her parents jumped in front of those meteor rocks out of despair for spawning such a heartless wench.
Clark will be much happier with Lois. She definitely knows her way around a set of bollocks. He'll have much more fun with her. And Lex and Lana can live a life of misery and abstinence together. I'd rather live in a barn and have my arse licked three or four times a week than have billions of monies and not even be pulled off on my birthday, that's what I always say and you can quote me.
So yes, I was a mess emotionally as I set off for the big house to have my IV removed and perform a kind of oral sex on a lung function machine. I thought of Lana and how bad her score would have been. I was able to manage it without any wee leaking out and that was good enough for me. Something odd then occurred which hasn't happened to me since I was about 15, it was curious and not at all unpleasant, but I'm afraid the details are un-bloggable.
The rest of my day was spent eating Ploughman's cheese sammiches, napping and preparing myself for the inevitable frustrations from Barcelona. If I ever meet Nicklas Bendtner I'm going to spit in his face. He is everything I detest about Premier League footballers. An enormous ego and equally disproportionately inflated bank account yet no more than an average professional at best.
If you put him in a Sheffield Wednesday shirt without telling anyone, stuck an arbitrary English name on the back, Wilson for example, and gave him a run out at the weekend would anyone notice him? Would he stand out? He'd stand out, but only as the tall c*nt who can't finish.
I just don't understand why the Gods don't want me to be happy for longer than twenty minutes per calendar month. What have I done wrong? I never go out, how can I have angered them so much that I am punished so relentlessly? Is it cause I follow Richard Dawkins on Twitter? Is that what it is? Are the Gods' egos so fragile I'm not even allowed to read the tweets of atheists?
Please forgive me. I just want to have one day where you don't make me cry. Would it help if I burnt some animals? Email me. Let me know.
I'm getting a wee bit smegged off with all this jibber-jabber about Barcelona being the best team in the entire galaxy. If all this hype is true I just hope the kit man has packed the kryptonite.
Apparently it's International Womens day..well given our boys are consistently criticised for looking and playing like a team of lesbians let's hope it's our day.
Yes yes yes they're a good team, but being the best team doesn't have as much of an influence on the outcome of a game as people think. Injuries, referees decisions, stadium atmosphere, all sorts of things can influence a game than just the players so let's just.....we're fucked.
Well now the campaigns of all those budding amateur suffragettes' and hummus eating Guardian readers demanding equality for all especially between the genders is starting to bear fruit. Congratulations, now car insurance will cost womenfolk more because the EU agrees with you. But it doesn't end here..
It is of course bullshit that men and women are equal. Doesn't mean one gender is better than the other, just they are not equal. There is no equality in that sense of the word. It doesn't make any sense whether it be womenfolk, the disabled or whatever other groups of people you want to compare.
When you try to mandate this kind of egalitarian nonsense by law you get a bullshit state of affairs such as this current one with insurance companies. No one has ever disputed women have fewer accidents than men, they don't drive fast enough to have accidents, but the EU refuses to accept that equality should be subordinate to the facts of the matter or common sense.
As Scooby-Doo once said, "Ruh-Roh."
This does not end here of course. This is just the beginning. If you are one of those people demanding equality, well I'm afraid you're gonna get it now...and good luck to you cause this will not end well for you. When people talk about being careful what you wish for it's the European Union's madness they have in mind.
Imagine women if you will, a future where divorce settlements are not biased in your favour, Eeek! Or even worse, where custody of children is actually determined by what's best for the child, OH NO! Still keen on equality? We jest of course, this is of course how it should be.
But how far to go in order to secure such equality? Imagine the EU imposing quotas on courts. Courts would have to be able to demonstrate there had been a reasonably close 50-50 split between the Mother and Father in custody allocation each year! Children could be placed with unhinged drug addicted or Tottenham supporting fathers just to satisfy the quotas.
The armed forces would not be exempt from the lunacy. The EU decides to lead the way, blazing a trail for the equality movement in the military decreeing all front line fighting regiments must be at least 25% female, 10% disabled and a further 10% lesbian and homosexual to reflect the demographics of typical European society.
The EU decides to start a war with Iran just to test the strength of it's sparkling new politically correct military. The Islamic armies of Iran are infuriated by the sight of women in front line regiments as they consider stray rabid dogs a more worthy foe. Insulted, they decided to only take male soldiers prisoner..the gay and women soldiers are simply executed immediately after being raped several times.
Now this of course is all bullshit, nonsense and horse hockey. The EU could never do this, it's madness and we wouldn't stand for it anyway. But of course, if I'd have said ten years ago that the EU would ban car insurance premium discounts on the strength of gender you'd have very seriously doubted me.
If I'd have said the EU would make it illegal for the Government to deny axe murderers the vote you'd have insisted I lie down and taken my temperature. If I'd have explained how the EU would make it illegal for us to deny anyone entry to the UK if they were from another member state you'd have ordered me up to bed and made me some soup and if I'd have explained the EU"s energy policies to you you'd have slapped me across the face, offered me some smelling salts and called an ambulance.
This has all been going on under our noses for years. A twenty year Fabian coup. This isn't the beginning, it's the beginning of the end. An end to our Sovereignty, freedom, democracy, common sense, bacon sandwiches. Everything for which we've spent the last thousand years defeating the French and Germans to protect.
The European Union is Pandora's Box except there's no hope at bottom. It's been opened by all those self-important leftie egalitarian sandal wearers who unleash their superior liberal values on us all, but refuse to accept any blame for the inevitable social chaos it causes, as they can't see the friggin mess from so high up in their ivory towers.
Bite down on something people...I'm afraid this is going to hurt us much more than it will hurt them.
It's the finale of season 7 of Smallville tonight in my little world. There's nothing I enjoy more in bed at night than a good climax. Clark hasn't figured out that Kara is in fact Brainiac and this of course is why Lana is still in a coma.
