Winter

An English squirrel outside without a proper coat and nutless, yesterday.

One of my onesies arrived. It's still unconfirmed at this early stage, but I think it's the best thing I own. I shouldn't think I'll wear anything else from now on to be fair.

Especially as winter has now arrived, which of course will mean the country will grind to a halt because of unprecedented temperatures and conditions.

This is now inexcusable. Even our wildlife go unprepared. I see pictures from eastern Europe of cities under ten feet of snow and thick ice covering cars, but the public transportation system remains in operation and the squirrels are perfectly warm and their supply of nuts plentiful.

The excuse given here is that those places are accustomed to such weather and are therefore better prepared. This is of course horse shit. Every year now in this country the temperature drops to -15 or some such silly depths. Every year we get huge lumps of snow dropping on us. It can't still be unprecedented.

If you haven't got chains for your tyres. If you don't keep emergency stuff in your car like a torch, water, blankets, travel connect 4 etc then I'm afraid you deserve to get stuck for 24 hours in your car with no one but a really loud undisciplined child for company.

And if the people from West Oxfordshire District Council read my blog...you better clear the roads between my place and the Three Pigeons at least every other Sunday else wise you'll be receiving an uncompromising email from me and you don't want that.

A steam train in Germany that works regardless

of which kind of snow falls on the line, yesterday.

Crazy

Stare at the red dot on her nose for about 30 seconds and then look at a white wall and blink lots of times in quick succession. Weiiiiiirrrrrd.

Anton Ferdinand unhurt by bullet sent in post

Anton's Postman yesterday.

Anton Ferdinand has apparently escaped unscathed after receiving a bullet in the second class post. The round was sent by what police assume to be a racist Chelsea fan (as opposed what other kind of Chelsea fan I'm not sure) last Saturday, reaching the QPR defender late Tuesday afternoon.

Personally I think it's much more likely to have been sent by a disgruntled QPR fan who has to watch his team's defence let in five or six goals every saturday afternoon, but let's not navel-gaze..

Now I'm no assassin, but if I wanted someone dead I'd fire a bullet at them with a gun, I wouldn't send it to them in the mail. By sending this cartridge by second class post the sender has chosen to deliver it in the absolute slowest and least lethal means possible.

Indeed, throwing the bullet at Ferdinand from the terraces would have more success at causing an injury. But by mailing it it will have slipped into the palm of his hand from the envelope at a speed of approximately 3mph.

It's pathetic. I really weep for the future of London's gangsters. Whatever happened to the helcyon days of gunning people down in the street outside pubs with sinister sounding names. Ronnie and Reggie will be turning in their graves.

A street outside a pub where people should

be gunned down properly, yesterday

Saturday's now then..

A Big Mac yesterday

Do you remember Tinita Tikaram? She works at my local McDonalds now. How weird is that? What a come down; from pop star to Big Mac putter-togetherer. That's a twist in one's sobriety if ever I saw one.

Her real name is Karen too. I suppose Karen Tikaram isn't very marketable. I assume it was her anyway. If it wasn't her it certainly looked like her.

I'll be betting today mostly on a Manchester United, Sunderland and Newcastle victories. And why not?

FA calls for "absolute bedlam" amongst calls for calm

How everyone wants it to go off, tomorrow

A spokesman from the FA would have emailed me today if I knew one to clarify that while they are all officially calling for calm ahead of Saturday's FA cup confrontation between Liverpool and Manchester United, between themselves they are hoping for something akin to world war III.

"We hope it goes off good style," he would have explained. "While officially we couldn't obviously say so, everyone in the office, like everyone in the country, is hoping it all goes off like a fucking firework."

"What we'd ideally like," the man called Tony would have said, "is for something like a chest high challenge to come in from Steven Gerrard on Patrice Evra. Not something fierce enough to kill him, but enough to break three of four ribs, and that be it..the benches clear, the fans plough towards each other and then suddenly everyone in Liverpool and everyone in Manchester steals each other's cars and heads to a meeting point somewhere in a service station car park on the M62 and the fucking apocalypse begins."

"We don't want this to be racial though," he would have been at pains to point out. "There's no place for prejudice in this day and age. Some of my best mates have got coloureds as friends. It's sad really that people are still so bigoted in this day and age."

What we're all hoping for tomorrow. yesterday.

Remarkable and frightening

I just found I had an empty drawer in my kitchen! Been living here two years and I've only just noticed I had an entire drawer lying empty. It's these sorts of things that make life worth living.

I always just assumed it was one of those weird fake drawers you sometimes get in kitchens, but no. It was the real McCoy. I can't wait to start putting stuff in it. I've never felt so alive.

I wonder what compelled me to try and open it? There's a lesson in this for everyone. Nothing is ever as it seems. What you thought was decoration may be a genuine storage space, or metaphorically - trust no one!

It's every man for himself. Good luck everyone.

My cupboard doors as they were earlier this evening.

The doors in their opened aspect with what I

assumed to be a fake drawer in it's closed aspect.

Oh my God!! The "fake" drawer is revealed to be real after all as

something within me compels me to try and open it.

Disaster

The loungewear Gods have forsaken me. My awesome onesie arrived today, but it's too small!! Never before in the history of shopping has something been too small for me. I've had to ship it back to the Netherlands. I might not get it's replacement until next week now.

I don't think any amount of trifle eaten from between Kirsty Youngs still remarkably pert breasts could ease my sorrow. I won't know for sure until I try of course. Let me get my spoon.

Kirsty Young

Kirsty Young I'm just now reading has caused a stir by saying she doesn't want her children to be happy, rather that they were content and had self-worth. What I find depressing about these comments is not her opinions on how to raise her own progeny..it's that they have caused a stir.

She's just someone off the telly. Who gives a fuck how she chooses to raise her children? If you don't agree with her don't raise your own kids that way. She's a presenter not a childsmith or a psychologist, she's just someone trying to figure out how best to be a mother.

If she'd have suggested England not play 4-4-2 against South American teams most people would have dismissed her ideas as ignorant womanese bollocks. So why give her child raising strategies so much respect?

We place too much value on what celebrities and theologians say in our society. Just as a couple of bishops in the House of Lords shouldn't be able to scupper plans to cap benefit payments to the proles at "only" £26,000 a year, a celebrity radio presenter shouldn't be listened to anymore than any other mother when it comes to raising nippers.

Kirsty Young of course is delicious. We here at the blog would love to spend an evening eating trifle from between her still remarkably pert breasts, but we're not really interesting in her opinions about anything to be fair. We like her voice however so we're happy to sit and listen to her talk, but I shouldn't think we'd ever actually absorb or remember anything she'd say and you shouldn't either.

Even if you did, let's just examine briefly what she said. She wants her children to be content and have self-worth rather than just be "happy". There's nothing really wrong with that. Happiness is a transient emotion, it's temporary. It's an emotion provoked by an experience, for example, eating trifle from between some tits.

Contentment and self-worth are longer term states of mind. To experience happiness regularly is to be content. To have self-worth is remarkably rare and very valuable in our society as we're such shallow creatures now.

Most people appear to have incredibly low self-esteem. I blame the socialist Governments for that. They have told us we need to depend on them and have crushed our spirits. I also blame telly and America.

I don't think she was saying she wants her children to be miserable. I think she was just saying there are deeper more valuable rewards in life than simple happiness. Happiness is a superficial state of mind and you can experience it and still have a shit life and no self respect.

In order to feel content and have self-worth however you must by definition have an abundant rich life full of trifle, onesies and nice boobs and who wouldn't want that that's what I always say.

Harry Redknapp struggles in tax evasion court case

I'm here live at Harry's court case and not in my living room. I'm not allowed to take pictures and I forgot to bring my crayons, so bear with me. I'll think of something...

2:43pm Question: My Redknapp how many undeclared off-shore accounts did you keep during the period in question?

Answer: Er..just the one your honour, sir, M'lud, just the one.

Question: Just the one?

Answer: Er...actually come to fink of it, two actually M'lady. Yeah, two as a matter of fact sir.

Question: You had two off-shore accounts? No more?

Answer: Erm..oooh OFF-shore accounts. Oh I 'ad three of those. Yeah sorry I had three of 'em.

Question: You had in fact three off-shore accounts during this period?

Answer: Which period? Oh you mean when I wasn't paying even a single penny of tax? Ooh sorry your honour, I'm knackered, it's been a long season hahaha..no sorry. During that period I actually had four accounts which were "off-shore." Ha, I'd forget my head if it wasn't screwed on. Hahaha. Lovely, cheers, can I go now?

Question: Not just yet, so to clarify, there were four off-shore accounts in your name during the period in question?

Answer: In who's name? Mine? During the period when I wasn't paying tax?? No Captain, no...I had five at that time in MY name. Sorry I didn't realise you meant in my name.

Question: So that's five in your name, how many not in your name?

Answer: Ohh fuck it!

Awesome loungewear

My regular readers will already be aware of my perpetual search for the ultimate in loungewear and it is this search that has motivated me this morning to fork out £140 for this awesome adults baby romper suit.

My Scandinavian readers will appreciate more than others how I can justify such an investment perhaps. Not because it's cold up there and they dress according to the conditions, but because they're mental and have the fashion sense of university students.

I hate students of course as much as the next man, but when it comes to loungewear they are streets ahead of everyone else mostly because they have no sense of shame.

The key to loungewear is comfort and if there's anything a student knows how to do it's make himself comfortable. A student will go outside wearing a bin liner full of decomposing rubbish if the alternative is to wash his even dirtier clothes.

I respect that. It's that completely uninhibited thinking that leads to adult baby clothes. I can't wait. I'm going to practice not going out so I get the full benefit from it. If this thing is as warm and comfortable as it looks I'll be wearing it outside and no mistake. I might just buy a couple more and never wear anything else ever again.

Who was it who did that? Was it Einstein? He had seven versions of the same suit so he never had to worry about what to wear? I must be as clever as him then? Smashing.

Bye for now.

NFL wagering

New York Giants winning margin 7-12 @ 11/2. And why not?

Couple of issues

"limp, raise, re-raise, call!! It makes no sense Professor Yaffle"

Firstly people, I did not win the Pigeons game and some of the hands will take between 3-6 months for me to understand. All the information has been sent to the lab boys who have begun punching in the numbers already. They say it could be September before any sort of sense is made from them!

Secondly, I take an interest in my blog stats. I like to know where my readers are from and how they found my blog. Everyone's welcome of course except anyone from Paris or Argentina (keep your mitts off our Islands you cheeky thieving bastardos) and of course except for the sick fuck from Washington State, USofA (nothing you seek on the internets is anonymous you dirty old bastard) who found my blog with a Google search "School girl rape cartoon."

Obviously you were looking for oodles of Japanese cartoons depicting the molestation and rape of children. You probably think it's OK as they're cartoons and not real people. And there's some logic in that. However, cartoons or not, you get off on the idea of small children being raped, which means you need locking up.

Incidentally, for everyone else, the reason this person found my blog with that search is because of this blog entry from April last year about how shit our infrastructure is - HERE

So anyway, if you are to visit me here at my blog, please can you not be a horrible sexual criminal.

Now then

I've heard tell of a Pigeons game this evening. I suspect I may have to play. If I have to play in my pyjamas so be it. I had planned to watch the NFL championship games - which is obviously code for having a six hour snooze - but I really feel I've got to go outside.

If I breath the air of my home for too long it can cause problems far worse than hypoxia. And I don't wear my war face soon I may never wear it again.

Obviously as far as the NFL goes, the Baltimore Ravens will win as will the NY Giants. So lump on a Patriots/49ers double.

I'm not watching Arsenal. I felt a disturbance in the force so I suspect they're losing and I don't need to see it. I'm going to watch Zulu instead to get me in the mood for poker.

Saturday morning guff

It's a chum's 50th birthday today. He owns a pub. That's basically the best thing ever..someone who wants to celebrate AND owns a pub. Every part of my spirit wants to be there. The important part of me however, the corporeal physical part of me, that would get my spirit to the pub, is being kept rooted to my sofa by what feels like an intensity of gravity found on Jupiter.

Never before have I been literally torn apart by the appeal of going out to a pub for a birthday celebration and lying on my sofa in my pyjamas eating crisps. And of course when I say literally I mean not literally at all. The exact opposite in fact. The plan as we speak is to go in my pyjamas, say hello, then come home again. I could be back on my sofa within twenty eight minutes.

In other news, I've still never been able to solve that solitaire game. I keep it in my toilet and I've had a lot of poos this week as I'm on some wicked strength antibiotics as we speak and I just can't get it.

You've got to clear one section at a time, but I can't figure out the order. I do not have the brain for this kind of stuff.

I have the sort of brain that can figure out how to insult some one on demand, but analytical stuff is beyond me.

I'm going to bet on something now. What are you doing? Is it cold out?

Weekend wagering

"White Hart Lane. You will never find a more wretched

hive of scum and villainy. We must be cautious."

I had something to say tonight about something, but I've changed my mind. The way I see it, who gives a fuck? I think I'll talk about betting instead as there might be some funny comings and goings this weekend and then I really must have some cake.

I'd quite like lay Manchester City this weekend if the truth be told. I fancy Manchester City will lose to Sperth, but they certainly won't win the game. But as you're aware, I can't be offering up this wager.

The thing of course we all have to remember about Tottenham and everything associated with it, is that it is inherently foul. Nothing good can come from it. Money won through the success of Tottenham is tainted. It's a little bit worse than making money from children to wealthy celebrities.

Imagine winning £2,000 because Tottenham won. What are you going to do with that money? You may as well burn it. All is not lost however. I'd like to back Arsenal too, but I can't bet on my own team. I can however bet on Wigan to beat QPR. And I can also lay Chelsea. And because I feel like it I can lay Liverpool too. And why not? You're only young once.

What are you doing this weekend anything nice? Good luck with all your bets.

Gah

This is Darren. He's the TV license inspector man who's been writing to me these past eight months or so. I have to admit, I haven't read his letters.

He didn't like me taking this picture of him for some reason. Possibly because he's worried some people he knows might find out what he does for a living. Because as we all know, it is possibly to die of shame. It's why there's no old people on regional radio stations.

So anyway, I'm home from the big house. It's not gone well to be fair and this was the last thing I needed. What I wanted was a meatball sammich and a since snooze. I got a TV license poker abouter instead.

He probably thought I couldn't talk cause I felt guilty. No..the joke was on him. I was just trying not to wet myself from fatigue. Joke's on you you silly coont.

Anyway, I don't have a TV, but that still isn't good enough for them. "I'll put you down for a visit this time next sir OK?" says Darren. Ha..you do that fella. It won't be me that answers the door. Hee Hee. Oh, fook.

The Iron Lady

Load of bollocks. This has nothing to do with Margaret Thatcher's political career. This film is about gawping at someone who is losing their mind to dementia. We show sufferers of mental health conditions no sensitivity whatsoever in our society and it's even worse if you happen to have been a very powerful political figure for twenty years.

Margaret Thatcher's career was controversial enough without having to resort to dramatising her losing her mind just to sell cinema tickets. To make a film like this when she is still alive too is brutally insensitive.

Anyone suffering from dementia or knowing someone with dementia will be appalled by this film ..even sandal wearing lefties who suffered from her policies. This is just a voyeuristic invasive snooping into the life of someone suffering from a humiliating condition.

The two bags of sand challenge

So after the success of last week, we're getting cocky this week. From a £100 stake we're going to attempt something never before attempted over a weekend in my betting career. And if we're successful, I'm going to spend these monies in a way that will get me in the papers. Or I might buy a lot of cake.

Th strategy is just to pick our bets wildly and without any research. This is not a time for thinking. Instinct and blind luck will see us through. So with this in mind, here's what we need to happen.

HT/FT doubles! Doubles you say!! Oh yes, I like these bets. Much in the same way people like Crystal Meth. One team to be winning at HT but eventually losing the game. Usually the home team is about 25/1 and the way team 33/1 with your high street bookies. So if you land a double with a £1 stake you're about £5-600 up.

Obviously these results are rare so just hitting one is a great days work, hitting two together is crazy talk. Well I'm all for crazy talk. So, the games we've picked out to land this Unicorn of double wagers are as follows; Swansea v Arsenal, Liverpool v Stoke and West Brom v Norwich.

So this is twelve £1 bets and is worth cazillions if all three of these of these games have different winners after each half. Something like £6,500. If that comes in, if you want me next week you'll find me underneath a pile of £50 notes in my living room.

Back in the real world I've placed an intriguing accumulator. We will need Villa, Fulham, N'awlins (-3.5) and the 'ammers to win to enjoy a £500 return on this wager.

Finally we have a Brentford, MK Dons and Oxford trixie.

If anything comes back from that we'll begin the challenge again on Sunday. And why not?

Friday the 13th

I had plans to go to the big house today, but I chose to stay at home in my jammies instead and eat bacon. Why do today what you can do about 11:00am on Monday, that's what I always say. Plus, how you supposed to go to hospital on Friday the 13th and expect anything even remotely therapeutic to occur? I'd be lucky to escape with just the most basic plague.

This weekend anyway, I have big plans. I will really be going for it. The two bags of sand challenge. Never attempted before in my betting career. From a starting stake of £100 I shall attempt to win two of your earth bags of sand.

If I'm successful I am going to buy so much lounge wear I'll be able to just pile it up in my living room and lie on it I won't have to actually wear any of it. GOLD!

My search for a house keeper begins in earnest today. I want an old immigrant woman called Rosetta, who isn't entirely sure if she's here legally but makes awesome authentic spicy food from wherever she's from. She will have a cheerful disposition and call me Pappy.

How a house keeper preparing my dinner might look, yesterday.

Finally, I had a meatball Subway sammich yesterday. First one for months. It was like we'd never been apart. We just clicked. Then I scoffed it down. It was almost sexual the way I digested it. As Ray Wilkins would say, very pleasant indeed.

Sleep now.

Stuff of the week

Now then...not had much to say recently and for that I apologise. I know most of the English speaking world reads my blog and looks to me for leadership in these austere times. But there's been a reason for my absence and I shall have to ask you to forgive me.

I've not had much to say, but something's about to come out accompanied by spit and phlegm so put on a clean suit of oilskins and Sou'wester and take heed ye olde bastards. Take heed. Haa haargh.

As you can tell I've been reading stories about pirates this evening. And when I get like that, I go through changes. I'll try and remain on topic as much as possible however.

So as well as reading about pirates I was also able to make a social faux pas tonight. I think the odds of my delivering this particular inadvertent boo-boo must have been trading at 999.0 on Betfair around 6pm so I hope you were on.

A chum who I have not seen for at least five years came over. Her husband is unwell and I wanted to ask her some questions about how they are dealing with it. She was always very particular about what she ate, so straight away I ask her if she felt there was likely to be anything in my house that her immune system would tolerate her eating or drinking.

As we sat talking and catching up and while she sipped her tea without milk or sugar, she revealed she had Crohns disease - a condition I'm still ignorant about, but which I think is an immune system issue focused around the bowels. D'oh!

If a book needs to be written on putting your foot in it, I'll do it. I'll do it tonight. I've got the time.

Speaking of books, I also finished reading David Copperfield a couple of nights ago. Took me as long to read it as it did to write it I think. Actually given that it's autobiographical it almost took me as long to read it as live it.

Was he gay then or not? He spent a lot of time admiring Steerforth and for heavens sake with the comments about Traddles' hair. I wonder how different the book would have been had it been written today when cottaging was not illegal?

Yesterday I bought stuff. I received a new iPhone. This thing is absolutely superfluous to all my needs. But it is snazzy. I got the glass one for the hell of it. It'll mean I'll actually have to go outside though so people can see me using it.

The Siri guy cannot understand a fucking word I say though. I'm too chesty. I'll ask it if it's raining outside and it'll phone my Nan. It just keeps calling a bunch of numbers no matter what I say to it. I don't like his voice either. He's like a continuity announcer. I wanted Jennifer Agutter. Can you change the voice?

In other news I actually succeeded with the bag of sand challenge last weekend. I won £1,192 from a £50 starting stake. I think that's only the second time I've ever completed it. And that was one weekend too, usually I give myself a week.

I'm finding it quite tricky to think of things to buy. I'm actually thinking of getting a house keeper. Just for a few weeks or so so I can say I have staff. I want someone 'umble who'll call me Master and go home of an evening with my poo under her finger nails. But back to this house keeper thing; I just think I could do with one.

I took a quick look at the real world recently. I see we're all still doomed and it's every man for himself. Good luck every one.