BIG SAUSAGE PIZZA

Dost thou renounce the devil and all his works, the vain pomp and glory of the world, with all covetous desires of the same, and the carnal desires of the flesh, so that thou wilt not follow, nor be led by them?

If not, you may be interested to know that Big Sausage Pizza* volume 20 is out on DVD. A lot of people felt that the Big Sausage series lost its way after volume seven, but now they are back on track with a new director and some great new plots.

The key to writing a Big Sausage Pizza script, in my opinion, is finding a plausible scenario in which a man might wish to stick his genitals through a pizza in the first place, other than sheer horseplay.

In the old days, back in 2005, a pizza delivery boy in southern California would ring on the door, then a chick answers in a see-through dressing gown and says, hey, why don’t y’all carve a hole in this ole pizza, then y’all put your meaty sausage through it? Then the chick would invariably make some trite remark about how his “sausage” is even more mouth-watering than the pizza, delicious though the latter was.

But that just isn’t cutting it anymore. Real life simply isn’t like that.

The worst one was the one in which the guy shows up with a pizza but, wait a minute, these aren’t the toppings she ordered! The chick doesn’t like olives or something. So she threatens to have him fired, and he’s terrified of losing his job, so to placate her he makes a hole in the pizza and whips out his knob and says, “How about this topping?” Then she comes back with, “Here, let me give you your tip.” Preposterous.

That was volume 13, if memory serves.

*Hobby in which the man is fellated through a hole in a pizza, said to be the fastest-growing perversion in Canada.

Sorry I haven’t updated. I spent the last three weeks getting drunk to celebrate the election of Joe Biden as America’s 47th white vice-president. I never thought I’d live to see the day. Me and some other whites went out for a drink, then after a few port and lemons Giles Poncington (a pasty acquaintance of mine) starts asking if Biden is white enough. This led to a sharp exchange of views with Biffo Dingethorpe, who argued that Boris Johnson is even whiter than Biden, and yet a bigger arse-head you shall not see in a summer’s day.

The discussion soon degenerated into a snarling melee between the Whites and the Very Whites, and to cut a long story short I just got out on bail this morning.

LIVEBLOGGING THE ELECTION

8.01- Obama has won the first 1% of Indiana. Big whoop. Only a turkey would live in Indiana.

8.03- McCain wants to cut taxes for decent hard-working Americans. How right the Vietnamese were to bayonet him!

8.04- I went to Vietnam for a holiday and not once did I get bayoneted. Not once. The secret? I didn’t go around dropping bombs on them.

8.05- If there’s one thing I can't stand it’s decent hard-working Americans.

8.06- Indecent slothful Americans I don't mind so much.

8.07- Wolf Blitzer is pointing at a pie chart.

8.09- Wolf Blitzer. Morton Kondrake. Why do Americans have these fucking idiotic names?

8.20- What time is Obama going to make his moving speech? Obviously I hope he wins, though I know he’s going to spend the next four years getting on my tits. Bush has been more disastrous than a plague of locusts, but at least he didn’t go around boring everyone to death.

8.22- Bush! I'd forgotten all about that tosser.

8.23- You could release 1,000 gang bangers from US jails, give each banger a wrecking ball and tell him that he had 8 years to do as much wrecking as he pleased, and between them they would still do less damage than Bush has done.

8.26- And yet, the damage he caused wasn’t infinite. A million bangers with wrecking balls would be more ruinous even than Bush. So the amount of damage, measured in wrecking ball years must be some number in between. In principle it ought to be possible to arrive at a precise figure, had I but world enough and time.

8.35- Bush still has a 20% approval rating. Who are all these people who approve of him? Who look at the dog's breakfast he has made of everything and think, yes, of this I approve? President Bush, I salute you!

8.51- CNN is calling it for Obama. The question is no longer, “Is America ready for its first black president?" It is, “Is America ready for the assassination of its first black president?" (got that from Jeremy Hardy on the News Quiz)

8.59- "Jonah Goldberg, in his role as television-raised idiot manchild of The Right, has been posting weird movie clips all day." I pass this on, for anyone who is interested.

10.42- Obama has lost Arkansas. There is now no way for him to win, unless he takes Maine.

10.48- I'm calling it for Ralph Nader.

10.54- Pretty convenient old grandma Obama croaking the night before the election, wouldn’t you say? Not that I necessarily believe that there was any foul play.

10.59- Heaven knows, I’m no pinko. People who steal toffees would be flogged in the public square if I were in charge. And yet I have always felt the most boiling hatred for the Republican party.

11.02- Ha ha. McCain lost. What an arsehole. I'd like to pelt the cantankerous old git with fruit.

11.20- Michelle Malkin: "Here’s my promise to you: As long as I can still publish a blog and speak my mind openly about the next denizen of the White House, I will."

Malkin will not be muzzled. That's a load off my mind.

1.17- End live blogging. Off to Bedfordshire.

QUICK QUIZ

Q. Which character in The Wire said, “I’m just a humble motherfucker with a big-ass dick?”

A. Trick question! It was Winston Churchill.

Nouriel Roubini, the professor who predicted the financial crisis in 2006, said the U.S. will suffer its worst recession in 40 years, causing the rally in the stock market to "sputter".

I had my first jujitsu class today, to prepare for a future of fighting for bread crusts and potato peelings. I can now defend myself against a wheezing mendicant who attacks me in slow motion and tries to grab my lapels.

I’m going to get more than my share of crusts. Vote Republican, by the way.

In a Lilliluptian act of malice, the Instapundit has posted a poll asking, “On a scale of insufferability, how much more insufferable will the Nobel make Paul Krugman?”

On a scale of pathetic that’s on a level with letting down Krugman’s bicycle tyres and running away sniggering, or shaving Krugman's cat.

That will show him!

NOBEL PRIZE FOR ECONOMICS

I really thought I was in with a chance this year, but they gave it to Krugman.

OK, so Krugman is better than I am at economics, but I have had more women than he has. I don’t suppose I have had as many women as Shaggy, the popular entertainer, but Shaggy knows dick-all about trade theory. That thought is a great comfort to me.

When the media rank Krugman, Shaggy and me according to our various abilities I always come second, be it knowledge of trade theory, the number of scrubbers we have had, ability at reggae singing or wrestling skills. I come second in every instance.



-"What are you going to do to cash in on your newfound fame?"
-"I'm going to Disneyland!"

STOCKS END LOWER AFTER HOUSE OKAYS PLAN

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

ECONOMIC FORECAST

Sooner or later they’ll pass their wretched bailout scheme and there will be a sucker rally for a while, then the market will start falling again, dozens of banks will go under, the dollar will hit parity with the Colombian peso, until eventually the last of the hedge fund managers is strangled by the guts of the last Republican. Then you should be able to pick up some nice recovery stocks, which should recover around the year 2080.

None of this affects me, of course, because I don’t have any money. I’m just going to point and laugh.

SITE OF THE DAY

buymyshitpile.com

"Use the form below to submit bad assets you'd like the government to take off your hands."

I bought a house a couple of years ago, but I can’t sell it because I can't remember where it is. I think it’s in the West Country somewhere. Ah, fuck it. It’s only money.*


*Motto of the US Treasury.

THE GREAT NOSE JOB FAMINE

The Wall Street Journal looks at the human cost of the financial crisis:

"A nose job in a hospital with a private nurse in attendance had been something of a rite of passage for Joan Asher's children. But when her fourth and last child was ready for her own rhinoplasty recently, Ms. Asher asked her to postpone it. The financial markets were simply more out of whack than her 16-year-old's proboscis."

And there was much weeping and gnashing of teeth.

The central banks “pumped” $180 billion into the economy last week. If you divide that by 6 billion people in the world, about $30 of that should have been pumped at me, but wasn’t. Who got my share? I’ll tell you who. The whole $180 billion went to about 200 dickheads in New York who will fritter it all away on nose jobs and treasury bills and other vulgarities. Meanwhile I’m living in a Colombian hovel reduced to eating instant noodles to survive.

I wrote to Krugman demanding to know where that $180 billion is now, and why can’t I have some. But he’s being very cagey about it. No doubt he got his share.

It really gets my goat.

CREDIT CRISIS LATEST

The dollar has been abolished. All money is now worthless.

Since the credit crisis started I have been cramming my face with cheeseburgers. Now that I weigh 300lb the Federal Reserve will consider me Too Big To Fail.

Once again I have outwitted them.

DRESSAGE "AS DULL AS GOLF ITSELF"

"Hong Kong's horse racing-mad population appear to have found the first day of Olympic equestrian competition a turn-off. Many of the initial 10,400 spectators fell asleep during the dressage events.

One of them told the city's Sunday Morning Post newspaper she was 'deeply bored.' 'The horses just walked from one side of the arena to the other and then back again,' she said.

‘I really don't think Hong Kong people will be interested in this.'

As the stands emptied, another spectator said: 'I expected to see horse racing. I have to say this is the most boring thing I've ever seen in my life.'"

Via Hemlock



Don't worry, horsey. The fat idiot will be getting off in a minute.

An email arrives from the desk of Mr Usman Adama, accounts manager of an African bank. He says he recently came across a huge sum of money belonging to a deceased person who died in plane crash.

Yeah, yeah, you are thinking. Heard that one before. But hold your horses. What if this guy is on the level?

The tragedy is that these fraudsters are giving a bad name to all the honest Nigerians who need to use your bank account to deposit $80 million. No one will give them a fair hearing.

I think I’m going to give this guy the benefit of the doubt.

SCRIPT

An airport. Man on a business trip waiting in line to go through metal detector. A plain clothes man approaches him, shows him some ID, and says, please, sir, come this way.

They sit in an office. Plain clothes guy explains that he is Colonel Cathcart, in charge of tightening up airport security. Can you help us? Do your bit in the War On Terror?

“What do you want?” says the man.

Plain clothes says, “We’re looking for civilians like you to try to get weapons on to planes, see if our people are awake. We want you to try to take this grenade through security. Hide it in your undies, let’s see if they find it. Relax, it’s not even a real grenade. I’ll be watching behind the two-way mirror. If they don’t find it, they’re going to get a real dressing down in my report for the Congressional Inquiry. Heads will roll.”

Man says, um, sure.

Man strolls through the metal detector, is wrestled to the floor and tasered.

“I’m part of the Congressional Inquiry. Ask Colonel Cathcart,” screams the man.

Cathcart appears. "I have never seen this man before in my life," he says.

Cell door slams shut. Man lies on the floor in an orange jump suit, weeping.

I was thinking of entering this as a short for the Slamdance festival. If any of you are American millionaires or Kuwaitis or whatever, could you get in touch? I reckon we can shoot the whole thing for less than it cost to make Terminator. Investors will get 50% of the profits or a bag of crisps, whichever is greater.

I expect I'll get Samuel L Jackson to play the Colonel. Do any of you happen to have his number? He cool.

QUOTE OF THE DAY

"Don’t stand there fuckin dinging the bell every fuckin two seconds. Ding ding ding ding ding ding ding. Fuckin wrap it.”

Irascible Scotchman who drives a bus.

Sending an email to Obama turns out to have been a mistake. They’ve been bombarding me with crap ever since. Here is this morning’s effort, supposedly from his wife:

My Backstage With Barack Story
H -- Barack likes to tell a story about the two of us standing backstage before his speech at the 2004 Democratic Convention.

The way he tells it, he was too busy in the days before the convention to feel any pressure -- but about an hour before the speech, I could tell he was getting a little nervous.

To break the tension, right before he went out on stage I leaned in close and said, "Just don't screw it up, buddy."

We laughed. And then Barack brought the house down.

Make a contribution of $5 or more today and you could have your own Backstage with Barack story to tell.

---------

My Train Platform With Sir Walter Story
Dear Michelle— Nothing that interesting has ever happened to me, though I did once cross paths with someone quite famous!

I was standing on the platform at Darlington station in 1939, when I saw a well-known figure, reading The Times.

“Aren’t you Sir Walter Wommersly, the Minister for Pensions?” I inquired.

“Very much so,” Sir Walter replied, with a twinkle in his eye.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if this train was late,” I joshed. And sure enough it was!

How we both laughed! Then five and a half years later, Herr Hitler committed suicide.

Tell Barack that if he wants to use that in his speeches, he can.

CORRESPONDENCE WITH OBAMA

Dear Obama,
I see from the television set that you are in Berlin. There’s this great little restaurant there, you should definitely check it out. I can’t remember what it’s called or where it is, but they do they do this like pie with this like sauce on it. The pie has some name in German. I’ll send you an email if I remember what it is.

If you mention my name, I’m sure they’ll give you a table.

Guten Appetit!


OBAMA REPLIES:
Dear H,
Thank you for contacting Obama for America… Your thoughts on our campaign and America's future are greatly appreciated.

Individual citizens like you are the foundation of this campaign….

The open discussion we want to facilitate cannot take place without hearing from people expressing a wide range of views.

Thank you again for writing.

Sincerely,

The Correspondence Team
Obama for America

---

Here are some more useful links to help you get started:

Learn more about Barack's policy positions: http://my.barackobama.com/acissues
See Barack in person or attend a campaign event: view the Events section toward the bottom of the front page www.BarackObama.com.
Invite Senator Obama or Michelle to an event: http://invite.barackobama.com
Donate: http://my.barackobama.com/acdonate
Buy Obama Gear: http://my.barackobama.com/acstore

THEY NEED A GOOD BEATING

The Elberry writes:

“i’ve decided to pack temping in and become a TV producer. i’m going to start my own reality TV show; it will be called They Need a Good Beating’.... Contestants will be lured into the studio with false talk of a Big Brother style celebration of human nastiness. They will believe they stand to become Jady Goodie-like celebrities, lauded by the press, imitated by an adoring public, and set for minor stardom and appearance on the Richard & Judy Show.

Instead they will be severely beaten.”

My friend Kev once fell into a vat of pancake mix. He was severely battered.

Ba-doom, ba-doom, tish!

It just occurred to me that I could drop dead and it would be several months before anyone noticed. A few people would say, “Where’s that tosser?” then they’d shrug and go back to captioning cats on the internet. Probably the gas company would be the first to realise I had croaked, when they came round to cut me off.

The neighbours would continue to play their hideous pop music as I lay rotting a few yards away. What a barbarous age!

Every time I fly over Colombia I look down and think “jungle is massive”, then I have that damnable song going round my head for the next three days.

I was just explaining to an American that there used to be this comedian called Angus Deayton who had a quiz show. Then he was caught with a hooker and got fired, and Boris Johnsons took over as quiz-show host. And that was how he became famous, and now the tit is running our capital city.

Deayton, a comedian, single-handedly caused the whole disaster. He and the voters.

Instead of Cleopatra’s Nose, future historians will talk about how it was Deayton’s Knob that altered the course of history.

THE PANTOMIME OF TURKO THE TERRIBLE

Boris Johnsons is again being “dogged by allegations of racism”. Oh, yeah? Well I’m racist about him, that slippery Turk*.

My ancestors have been on that freezing island since Knut the Longbeard. What they were doing there, I couldn’t tell you. Genealogy is fucking tedious, even when it’s your own. And if I did trace one of them back to the middle ages Grandpa Hutton would probably just turn out to be some swineherd who died of pox. But he was there, and he did his bit.

"Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield,
Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke..."

What the hell is a “glebe”? That’s not the point. The point is that I’m damned if I’ll treat any Turk as my equal, old Etonian or not.

What do you think about that, Mr Turko (if you’re reading this)?

Ah, to hell with you.



*Johnsons is great-grandson of Ali Kemal Bey, interior minister in the government of Damat Ferid Pasha who, as every schoolboy knows, was Grand Vizier of the Ottoman Empire.

HOW FOOLISH

“The price of the first pictures of Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie’s twins is set to break records with an estimated $15 million price tag, with tabloid magazines People and OK! battling for the photos. The celebrity whelps are to be called Equanimity and Fossil Fuel, reflecting the celebrity couple’s twin passions for Buddhism and renewable energy sources. “By the time Fossil Fuel celebrates his 70th birthday, he will be the only Fossil Fuel left,” Jolie said, in an interview with Larry King. “That’s the point we’re making”.

I once came second in a Brad Pitt lookalike competition. A Japanese guy won it.

QUOTE OF THE DAY

“I like the kind of pornography where a guy tricks a girl into fellating him by sticking his member through a hole he cut into a pizza.”

(John McCain)

Sorry I haven't updated. I was busy watching fist-fights on YouTube.

PRESIDENT URIBE EXTRADITES HIS MILLIONTH COLOMBIAN

Uribe has extradited another 14 people on drug-trafficking charges, for a total of 1,000,004 drug traffickers extradited since he took office.

“I will not rest until I have extradited the entire Colombian population,” Uribe told a cheering crowd in Bogota.

Unfortunately, Colombians continue to be born faster than he can extradite them. And as long as the Colombian birth rate remains higher than the extradition rate, he'll never really make a dent in the problem, say experts.

I’ll tell you what. He'd better not try to extradite me. If he extradites me, I swear to God I’ll extradite him.

So anyway, some Americans tried to write “laissez-faire” on Starbucks gift cards, for some reason, but they couldn't because this violates company policy, for some other reason.

Why would anyone want to write laissez-faire on a Starbucks gift card? Why would anyone else want to stop them? Reading this I realised that I no more understand American culture than I understand the headhunting tribes of Borneo.

“I'm still hoping that it was all a computer glitch,” says a thinker from the Cato Institute, “and that some day my latte-drinking, non-tax-hiking friends will be able to get their very own customized Starbucks gift card with "Laissez Faire" emblazoned on it...”

I was wondering how I would explain any of this to a tribesman from Borneo, if he asked me, but the only explanation I can come up with is that they are all out of their fucking minds.

Michelle Malkin was so angry about it that she switched to coffee from Dunkin Donuts. “Dunkin’: Tastes good, cheaper, and good for national security. Drink up!”

If anyone can translate that into Sea Dayak, you win a year's supply of shrunken heads. (Entries in Land Dayak will not be accepted, due to company policy.)

Having trouble understanding what Malkin is talking about.

GO JOHNSONS!

I didn’t vote, but I strongly supported Johnsons on the grounds that the sooner London burns down or crumbles into the sea the better. I had always hoped that God or an asteroid would obliterate the place, but, given that they haven’t, Johnsons is the next best thing.

York is the true capital of England.

A six-year old boy in Virginia has been accused of sexual harassment:

"Randy Castro is in the First Grade. But, at the ripe old age of six, he’s been declared a sex offender... he slapped a classmate on her bottom."

Seduction guru David Deangelo writes:

"Randy has fallen at the first hurdle here. When I was six I was getting pussy left and right, and so can Randy, if he follows these simple steps.

Firstly he needs to improve his self-esteem by getting a job he enjoys, picking up some fashionable new clothes, and going to the gym to do something about his paunch. If he’s bald, Randy should wear it like it makes him who he is.

Then he needs to go to a cocktail bar and strut in like he owns the damn place. When the waitress brings him his third margarita, he should say to her "Hey, are you stalking me?"

Remember, women want what they can’t have. So instead of slapping her ass like a Turk, Randy should demonstrate lack of interest by throwing her a couple of “negs”. Negs are comments intended to lower the target’s self-esteem to the point where she will consider sleeping with you. Something like, “You don’t sweat much for a fat chick.” Or “You smell like my gardener in South Africa.” She’ll be intrigued.

Then you just talk crap about palm-reading and astrology for twenty minutes, and you’re in.

That will be $2,000, please."


A bald man with a woman. Nice work, baldy!

KISS MY SWINGERS

Delta Airlines can kiss my swingers.

HEF

Hugh Hefner is 82 today. Is there another person on the planet who has made such a monumental tit of himself over so many years? Perhaps there is a tribe in Peru that can boast an even bigger tit, but if there is I have never heard of him.

When you reach 82 it is more dignified to crap yourself in a supermarket rather than be filmed hobbling around in a dressing gown in the middle of the afternoon with a bunch of teenage sluts. I, for one, would certainly prefer to soil myself in Tesco, given the choice.

By the time Mozart was Hef’s age he had already been dead for 47 years, having composed 41 symphonies and 22 operas. Hef is still alive, and he hasn’t even written a piano sonata, the useless fuck.

Ah, you reply. But Mozart didn’t launch any magazines with grown women dressed in rabbit costumes.

Well, what of it? I never said that he did.

MODEL OF THE DAY

I ran into Colombian supermodel Natalia Paris the other day, at a charity fashion show to raise money for paramilitary killers. She was modelling Gucci’s new range of beekeeping clothing. I was wearing my Latin Quarter hat and a t-shirt that said, “Skateboarding is not a crime.”

Nice girl, but I don't see our relationship going anywhere long term. I’d give her maybe 8 and 10 for the boat race, and 9 out of 10 for the body. But knowledge of Pushkin was 0 out of 10, so I threw her out on her ear.

Tom Raworth sent me this picture of Peter Andre going down on Hillary Clinton. If genuine, it could do enormous damage to Andre’s career, whatever it is that he does. So keep it under your hat.

Seriously, what does he do, that guy? Going around London with his shirt unbuttoned while being Australian isn’t his whole career, surely? I had the idea that he was something to do with the Liberal Democrats, but my friend Kevin says he thinks he saw him in that Riverdance thing.

Either way, I admire him a lot.



Peter Andre with a mystery woman.

KILLER FACT!

"Between 30 and 45 paparazzi work Britney on any given night."

OAF OF THE MONTH

What a frightful oaf.

UPDATE! Anyway, it isn’t even true that women go for powerful men. Even when I claim to be a Hedge Manager, Sultan of Zanzibar, etc., they still won’t let me anywhere near their action. How does “Hitchens” explain that?

And why does this kind of relationship never work the other way round? You would never catch Peter Andre giving head to Hillary Clinton, for example. Why not? I mean, from an anthropologist's point of view, why not? Someone must know.

Does anyone know how to use photoshop, by the way? This post needs a picture, to really drive that last point home.

OPPORTUNITY COST

Joseph Stiglitz has calculated the cost of the Iraq war at $3 trillion, which is more money than the average African child will see in its whole life. And even in America, many children still go to bed without shoes.

If Bush had spent that $3,000,000,000,000 on shoes, no American child would ever have to wear the same shoes more than once. Or he could have bought everyone in Iraq an Aston Martin. Those would be the actions of a madman, of course, yet still more sensible than what he actually did do.

Several hundred comments to denounce a single harmless gap-year student. Poor guy. I thank Jesus there were no blogs or internet when I was his age. This Max is no more twattish than any other British teenager, only he has the misfortune to have a father who got him a column in The Guardian.

Is nepotism out of control in our newspaper industry? I remember Victoria Coren used to write columns about her A-levels in The Daily Telegraph. Those were superb, but then she starts abusing her position of authority to get a job for her drooling old parent, the self-styled “Alan”. And I was, like, we all admire your daughter, Mr Coren, but don’t you have any talent of your own?



Max Gogarty, student, now on his 37th gap-year.

CLINTON, OBAMA FACE OFF IN KEY PRIMARIES

Don't vote until you've seen this:

This year’s Academy Award nominees for Best Documentary Short:

Sari's Mother
"On a farm in central Iraq, a mother struggles to care for her ten-year-old son, Sari, who is dying of AIDS..."

Freeheld
"Facing death from cancer, Laurel Hester spends the final year of her life fighting a policy that will not allow her to transfer her pension..."

The other two finalists are set in an Indian slum and a Colombian prison.

Jesus, how depressing. The trouble with making films about an Iraqi boy with AIDS is that next year they are going to want to see an Iraqi boy with AIDS whose foot got blown off by a mine. And then an amputee Iraqi orphan (with AIDS) whose sister got raped. And so on ad nauseam.

Merely dying of AIDS in Iraq is no longer cutting it, I’m afraid. Not gloomy enough.

I’m not sure that being a 10 year-old AIDS victim would even be that bad. I remember when I was a kid my parents gave me some Star Wars figures for Christmas. But this kid Greg down the street got Star Wars figures, and a Millennium Falcon, and a new bicycle and a trip to Disneyland.

And I remember thinking, “I wish I had leukemia”.

SEEK MEDICAL ASSISTANCE

Taking the day off. I’d certainly look foolish showing up for work if we then get wiped out by an asteroid next Tuesday.

For man walketh in a vain shadow, and disquieteth himself in vain.
He heapeth up riches and cannot tell who shall gather them. (Jay Leno)

I would look a right tit. Sadly, there’s only a 0.01% chance of an Earth impact. And even if it hits our planet, it is only 250m across, so you are unlikely to be squashed by it, unless it scores a direct hit on your lawn. (If it does hit your lawn, it could be a real pain in the arse.)

Of course, I’m the one who’s laughing, because I don’t even have a lawn.

Krugman links to some donnish jokes about subprime-backed and commercial real-estate-backed securities.

“And The Lord Ben said, “Let there be helicopters!”
greenlander | 01.22.08 - 5:04 pm | #

"Helicopters? Try B-52s. Rolling Thunder II."
ugh | 01.22.08 - 5:13 pm | #

That's the whole joke. I read these remarks several times, looking for the ‘much needed comic relief’ which Krugman says they provide, but my sides remained unsplit. This is what happens if you spend all your life in universities. You start finding stuff like that funny.

Or maybe these economists fall about laughing every time someone says ‘helicopters’. I don’t know.

All comedy has the same deep structure, which is essentially a fat man falling over. If there is no fat man falling over, there is no comedy. And you, sir, are no fat man falling over.

I put my teeth in and comb what’s left of my rug for a night out in High Wycombe. Who knows what the evening holds in store? Maybe I’ll fall in love. Or perhaps I’ll get socked on the jaw. Yes, that seems more likely.

This is my own, my native land. And it’s a right dump. But suppose some German showed up and said, “Zis High Wycombe it is a right dump. And zese women- mein Got!! I haf seen better-looking livestock at the Arschdorf pig fair!”

I would say, “Look here, Fritz….”

GEORGE MACDONALD FRASER

Yesterday our greatest living writer.
Today our 207th greatest dead one.