God

So apparently yes, the way to encourage a child is not to tell them they're awesome when they've done something that is in all demonstrable ways absolutely shite, it's to praise them for working hard. Assuming they've worked hard.

Instead of, "fuck my life you're a child prodigy son" when little Billy manages to accomplish something, it is better to simply acknowledge his hard work and remind him that this is indeed the key to happiness in life. Hard graft son. Obviously in reality it's every man for himself and we're all doomed, but they don't need to know that yet.

So anyway yes, this pleases me as I feel it vindicates me for insulting young Peter's painting of his family when I was a fifth year in comp and was helping out at a local Primary school on Wednesday afternoons either as part of my GCSEs or cause I'd been in trouble for something, I forget which.

I mention this because while I was at the Subway place earlier this evening there was an old woman making gargling noises at a woman's urchin which was sat in something more akin to an armoured vehicle than a buggy, certainly more robust than anything the British Army have been given to fight the Taliban with. It was an eight wheeler!

The urchins Mother was all smiles. The kid remained and appeared indifferent at best, scared at worst as this wrinkly old crone talked to it like it was a Cocker Spaniel; Oooohhs a good boy, you're a good boy coochy fucking coo.

You see now, the thing is I can't communicate with children in this patronising nonsense way. I've always wondered if this was because I was dead inside or because I just didn't want to condescend to them or anyone in this way.

I don't get the point. I understand the tone of voice is important, but why not still make sense and use actual words just in a pleasant tone of voice instead of just making noises. It's no wonder babies don't make any sense.

So back to young Peter. He's painted his family; his mum, his Dad, his brother and himself. I thought it was shit even for a six year old, he hadn't tried at all...but I thought I was diplomatic when he showed me and asked me what I thought.

You're Dad Pete, he's got nine fingers has he on his left hand? And only three on his right? And your mum, her legs are always this far apart are they? Peter just stared at me, as did his Guardian reading hummus eating sandal wearer of a teacher who was so translucent from a lack of red meat I could see through his chest and read the blackboard behind him which he had renamed the chalkboard so as not to offend the black children....of which there were none in the entire school. I wasn't invited back.

I maintain however, that if Peter is making his living today from portrait painting then he owes his living to me. If I hadn't been honest and pointed out to him that people don't have 12 fingers and certainly not nine on one hand, and that includes people from Bampton, he'd have given up painting before he had time to realise his full potential.

The point is this. I was questioning whether Peter had really thought his work through. Had he given is all? Or indeed, had he just thrown some paint about and given no consideration to how it looked or how deformed and hideous a representation of his family he was ready and willing to offer to his whole classroom?

I saved this child. Ergo I have saved the world. For our children are our future.

I am God.

Adam and Eve or Martin and Steve who cares?

Well now this is all just so much bullshit one doesn't know where to begin.

The facts M'lud: An elderly couple, Hazelmary Bull and husband Peter, run a Bed and Breakfast establishment. The Bulls take the Bible literally and consequently do not allow whoospies to share the same bed because God thinks it's nasty.

So, in September 2008 when Martin Hall arrived for a dirty weekend with his civil partner Steve Preddy (if only Martin had been called Adam) they were refused access to a room with a double bed and thus the most pointless, counter-productive and petty legal proceedings were set in motion since McDonalds tried to copyright the name "McDonald" in Scotland.

The Bulls claim this is their home and they should be allowed to deny anyone access to it for any reason they see fit. Quite right too. Only on this occasion it's not their home. It's a business. It's a guesthouse, not their home. They just happen to live there too and the laws of the land supersede any bigoted obligations to ones faith.

If you can't accept that the discrimination and prejudices required by your religion are incompatible with the laws governing your business, then I'm afraid you need to find an alternative source of income.


For the gay couple involved..they really need to ask themselves some searching questions about themselves and what they're doing with their lives. And perhaps whether bankrupting an elderly couple simply because they share the same Christian beliefs as millions of other people in England including the Prime Minister, is really going to help the gay-rights movement or improve their lives in anyway.

I mean really homosexual community who think this is a moral victory; I could understand your frustrations if they'd have booked into a Premier Inn or Travel Lodge only to be told that whoopsies can't share a room, but this was a guesthouse run by people who are pushing seventy.

They're from of a generation that simply holds a different set of values from contemporary society. They're probably still cautious around Germans. Of all the people and organisations in this country who are openly discriminatory who can seriously undermine the rights of minority groups, why choose a harmless old couple who'd rather not let homosexuals hump away at each other in the spare room?

Let's be clear about this. Mr and Mr Preddy-Hall chose to book themselves into this guesthouse specifically because they had heard the couple were Christians and had in place this prohibition on homosexuals sharing a double bed and simply wanted to make a fuss, which they have now succeeded.

But have they ended discrimination towards homosexuals now? Will Christians across the country now accept that their antiquated beliefs should be jettisoned because the EU thinks they ought to join the 21st century? Or will they simply be infuriated by the pettiness of these men, dig their heels in and take their frustrations out on any other gay couples they might come into contact with in the future?

Discrimination and prejudices are very ugly and of course we all want to see them disappear from society, but this is not the way. The problem with crusaders like Steve Preddy and the disabled keyboard warrior Jody McIntyre is their actions have nothing to do with eliminating discrimination and everything to do with just getting noticed in the hope that it will allow them to deal with their own insecurities about themselves. But do they feel more secure now they've had their day in court or in retrospect do they feel they'd have been better served just booking into a Travel Lodge and accepting that are more dignified and productive ways to go about highlighting prejudice?

This was the year that was

I was planning on handing out some awards to see 2010 off in style, but it was such a shit year I don't think it deserves any. Instead I'm just going to list some of the various occurrences that occurred that came together to form a furious raging perfect shit storm that left the entire globe caked in poo.


January
The year began if you recall, much the same as it ended. The snow had brought the country to a standstill. This was apparently because it was unprecedented for snow to fall in January, at least in such volumes. The Government vowed to learn their lessons from the experience however and assured us next time we would be far better prepared. Phew!

Town councilors up and down the country feeling the wrath of frustrated commuters were to breath a sigh of relief however on January 12th as the media's attention was taken away from the two hours it was taking to travel four yards, as a massive earthquake destroyed Haiti killing pretty much everyone. Phew!

The whole world came together to heave devastated Haiti back onto it's feet. The UK's effort began to wane (no pun intended) however as revelations began to emerge that John Terry had fucked someone Wayne Bridge used to know. A state of emergency was announced as confusion mounted as to whether this would interfere with the national team's World Cup preparations. They didn't. Phew!


February
Another earthquake hits, this time in Chile. Much to the chagrin of the BBC, who had spent millions on new death toll graphics following the Haitian tragedy which may have claimed 250,000 lives, the death toll was far smaller and they were unable to unveil their 3-D coffins graphics.

Once again however, a Chelsea player would steal the lime light away from an actual news story as Cheryl Cole finally accumulates enough wealth and fame to ditch Ashley Cole.


March
A slow news month. Not a single earthquake and not a single Chelsea player arrested for beating his wife, drink driving or fighting with tourists. Chancellor Alistair Darling (remember him?) who knew his career in politics was all but over delivered his budget to the House of Commons.

Knowing full well his party were in for an horrendous pummeling at the polling stations, it was the most ridiculous sugary pap since Ashley Cole sounded out his wedding vows.

Meanwhile the Daily Mail readership were incandescent with rage as Jon Venables was returned to prison for breaching his bail terms, and a gay guy from some DIY show or something on the BBC was found dead in his flat after a kinky sex game went a bit awry - or according to plan - you never know what that lot are trying to achieve with all that equipment do you?


April
One of the most bullshit months of the year. I wondered in fact whether I'd not received a memo informing us that April Fools Day was to be extended to cover the whole month.

A volcano erupting in Iceland was to prevent all of western Europe from flying anywhere and anyone in the western hemisphere from flying to western Europe.

Eventually it was established the path of the "dust cloud" which was supposedly capable of bringing down passenger airliners in their hundreds was predicted by the same computer models that predicted global warming would see temperatures of 80 degrees on Christmas day from now on. Twats.

Gordon Brown however in possibly the only real instance of true leadership during his tenure as Prime Minister would sooth the nation's anger with one of the most hilarious gaffes by a politician in modern times as he accused a pensioner, life long Labour supporter and carer of disabled children of being a bigot with a BBC microphone sellotaped to his lapel.

The country was in shit state, we couldn't get away from it because the airports were all closed and even if they weren't the rest of the world was just as shit anyway. They were still hauling corpses out of the rubble in Haiti, the Gulf of Mexico was polluted with oil, the Taliban were in the ascendancy in Afghanistan and the Chinese were taking over the world, but for that one afternoon, we didn't care. Everyone felt shit, but at least we weren't Gordon Brown.


May
Having concluded an incredible destruction of England, something no Scottish leader had ever achieved over centuries of war, Gordon Brown was finally drummed out of Downing Street. He left with a skip and jump with his family in tow, satisfied beyond all his wildest dreams by a job well done. The most archetypal Jock had fucked England royally for ever and now he could rest. He who laughs last...

June
A nutter drove around the north-west gunning people down and England exceeded even my expectations of failure managing to not even make the quarter-finals and only just eeking out of the group stages having battled with the might of America, Slovenia and the Marshall Islands


July
Another shooting as Mr Raul Moat got the wrong end of the stick and decided to shoot as many policemen as possible as he thought his girlfriend had had an affair with one. She hadn't.

After a siege lasting many hours, this sorry episode in modern day liberal sandal wearing policing was brought to a bloody conclusion when Gazza, who had brought his friend Moaty some crisps, stumbled into the firing line and was killed instantly.

Mr Moat, devastated at killing his idol, then turned his gun on himself, missed, shot a woman who was playing Scrabble in her living room some fifty yards away, tried again and this time was able to blow most of arse away spilling his brains into the ditch he'd been hiding in for the past three days.

It might not have happened exactly like this, but it's how I prefer to remember it as the truth is just too depressing. The conclusion of this siege marked the death of British Policing as we knew it. From August, if you didn't know it already, it was every man for himself.

August
In Chile 33 miners were trapped about a mile underground with very little chance of rescue any time soon. And another one of those kinky deaths occurred as an MI6 worker and known tranny/gayer/cyclist, was found dead in a bag in his bath!!

What the fuck? A bag? A fucking bag!!? Someone tell me please how that's a turn on? When did just getting a nice healthy blow job stop being arousing? When did having a nice bit of sex in the missionary position in a bed stop being enough to bring about a satisfying climax?

Have people really exhausted all alternative positions that can be enjoyed in a nice warm soft bed, that being squeezed into an airtight rubber bag with a badger is the only effective means for gaining any degree of sexual gratification?

This is why whoopsies shouldn't be permitted to adopt children. How old will little Zachary be before Elton buys him his first vac-bag?

September
In September the Pope came to town and told us to stop being so hysterically prudish about Paedophilia. Just grow up he told us...without a hint of irony.

Ed Miliband was provided with the Labour leadership by the Unions thus rendering the Labour Party redundant.

And the Thomas Midgley award for tragic yet ironic and I'm afraid slightly amusing accidents, was won by Segway inventor Jimi Heselden won died after launching himself off a cliff on one of his contraptions.

October
The 33 Chilean miners are rescued successfully in one of the most compelling and inspirational live TV moments of all time.

The world's media had placed the lives of the 33 miners under the microscope and every aspect of their lives scrutinised. Consequently some of the miners' infidelties came to light (as it were) and at least seven of the miners considered remaining in the mine rather than face the wrath of their shovel wielding wives and mistresses.


November
The snow brings the country to a standstill. This was apparently because it was unprecedented for snow to fall in January or November, at least in such volumes. The Government prayed for another earthquake somewhere and vowed to learn their lessons from the experience and assured us the next time we would be far better prepared. Phew!

December
Over-privileged students decide to bust up London after Government proposals to actually get them to pay for their own educations. With the final instance of jaw dropping hypocrisy completely devoid of irony in 2010 a posh little package sporting a red Prada coat and diamond ear-rings squeaked, "Why should Daddy have to pay, we've got four ponies at home, they don't pay themselves you know."

Rah-rah-rah we're going to smash the oinks

Gay weather man does something gay

While Sky TV only employ sluts to read their weather forecasts, the BBC only employ gayers, and this is the flagship gayer of their entire fleet of birties. It's only the ostentatiously effeminate whoopsie that can react the way he does when he realises he's on camera.

Splendid theatre darling, you were wonderful.

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