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Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Sunday, February 22, 2009
BLAIR MUST HANG
Interesting piece in The Times about what Bomber Blair is up to these days. As you know, my campaign to have him hanged has yet to bear fruit, though these are early days, and after he resigned as PM he started looking around for new ways of “making the world a better place”.
The UN, the European Union, the United States and Russia appointed him Peace Envoy for the Middle East, and within a few months the locals were tearing each other limb from limb, much as I expected.
How did he do it? “I was on the phone to the Arabs, the Americans and the Israelis and the Americans the whole time,” he explains.
Even by his own standards, he has done a marvellous job as Peace Envoy. Really first-class.
In January 2008, J P Morgan Chase took him on as an advisor, plunging the bank into a crisis from which it may not recover. “Our firm will benefit greatly from his knowledge and experience", they said. Over the next year the share price halved and profits plunged by more than 80%, much as I expected.
Now he’s helping to modernise Rwanda. Woe to that land that appoints Blair to modernise it! His normal way of expressing concern is to send the RAF to destroy their infrastructure. I don’t know what precise form the catastrophe in Rwanda will take –could be genocide, could be a plague of frogs- but it will come. And if the Americans ever ask his advice on resolving the financial crisis he may yet succeed in ruining us all.
I honestly believe him to be insane. And the fact that this very dangerous lunatic is still poking his nose into the Middle East shows that Blair remains one of the most serious threats to our national security, and that his arrest and execution should be matters of the highest priority.
Fucking nutcase.
The UN, the European Union, the United States and Russia appointed him Peace Envoy for the Middle East, and within a few months the locals were tearing each other limb from limb, much as I expected.
How did he do it? “I was on the phone to the Arabs, the Americans and the Israelis and the Americans the whole time,” he explains.
Even by his own standards, he has done a marvellous job as Peace Envoy. Really first-class.
In January 2008, J P Morgan Chase took him on as an advisor, plunging the bank into a crisis from which it may not recover. “Our firm will benefit greatly from his knowledge and experience", they said. Over the next year the share price halved and profits plunged by more than 80%, much as I expected.
Now he’s helping to modernise Rwanda. Woe to that land that appoints Blair to modernise it! His normal way of expressing concern is to send the RAF to destroy their infrastructure. I don’t know what precise form the catastrophe in Rwanda will take –could be genocide, could be a plague of frogs- but it will come. And if the Americans ever ask his advice on resolving the financial crisis he may yet succeed in ruining us all.
I honestly believe him to be insane. And the fact that this very dangerous lunatic is still poking his nose into the Middle East shows that Blair remains one of the most serious threats to our national security, and that his arrest and execution should be matters of the highest priority.
Fucking nutcase.
Monday, February 2, 2009
SNOW DIARY
-I’m supposed to be doing some stuff in London today, but the snivelling tossers cancelled all the trains and buses because there was a bit of snow. On the bright side, shutting down our financial services industry for a day will save the country billions.
-Some kids down the street built a gigantic snow cock. It was mighty witty, I’m not denying it, though the effort / benefit ratio was huge. They must have spent hours on it.
-Some Venezuelan ditz in London sent me a message complaining about the English climate. What did she expect? Tropical breezes? The stupid cow.
-The Guardian set up a live snow blog, which quickly got overrun with tiresome northerners saying that our snow is a poof, and congratulating themselves on living somewhere even more freezing and uninhabitable than London. Why does anyone stick it out up there? Do they enjoy all these gales and blizzards?
Take Scotland, for example. Everyone in Scotland has an EU passport. They don’t have to stay, which begs the question: why do they stay? Why does the entire population not re-locate to Tenerife?
-Some guy on The Guardian pulled rank on the northerners. Snow, you say? Well permit me, as a Canadian, to butt in here...
-Some kids down the street built a gigantic snow cock. It was mighty witty, I’m not denying it, though the effort / benefit ratio was huge. They must have spent hours on it.
-Some Venezuelan ditz in London sent me a message complaining about the English climate. What did she expect? Tropical breezes? The stupid cow.
-The Guardian set up a live snow blog, which quickly got overrun with tiresome northerners saying that our snow is a poof, and congratulating themselves on living somewhere even more freezing and uninhabitable than London. Why does anyone stick it out up there? Do they enjoy all these gales and blizzards?
Take Scotland, for example. Everyone in Scotland has an EU passport. They don’t have to stay, which begs the question: why do they stay? Why does the entire population not re-locate to Tenerife?
-Some guy on The Guardian pulled rank on the northerners. Snow, you say? Well permit me, as a Canadian, to butt in here...
"... we've record amounts of snow in Toronto right now too... lots of driveway shoveling... ermmmm but yes we're used to it I guess (everyone has their own snow shovel.. indeed it's the standard big birthday present when you're 11..."Digging snow out of your drive to get to work is very impressive, and makes you a real man. But to do this every day for three months because you lack the wit to move to a habitat fit for humans is the behaviour of a fuckhead.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
MY BOY GEORGE VIDEO SHAME
“Sex-crazed Boy George has been jailed for 15 months after he handcuffed a male escort to his bed and threatened: “You’re going to get it!”
Sounds like wholesome British fun to me, I don’t know why people can’t mind their own business. Like Big Sausage Pizza, chaining up rent boys and threatening them with dildos is good for a couple of hours on a Saturday afternoon, but these people who build their whole lifestyle around it give me the creeps.
Boy George is the only pop star I have ever met. When I was about 10 they bussed a load of kids my from school up to London to be in his video The War Song. I don’t know who organised it or why, but we were forced to dress up as skeletons and walk down a street to make some trite point about war being stupid.
In fact, he couldn’t have been more wrong. War is great, providing children with fresh air and healthy exercise. If it weren’t for war and the opportunities it gives them, Congolese children would be as fat and repulsive as our English bratties.
Not long after I appeared in his video, Mr Boy was in some kind of heroin scandal*. I don’t remember if he was arrested or if it was just a story in the papers, but he wrote a letter to our school apologising for letting us all down. I think he thought he was a role model for us, though before they forced me to be a skeleton in the man’s video I had never heard of him. One of the teachers read his letter out in assembly. It said something like, “Drugs are bad. Whatever you do, children, don’t spend 800 pounds a week on heroin.”
And to this day I have never spent 800 pounds a week on heroin.
I'm on at 3.13
*This was about 1982 or 1983. I can’t find anything about it on the internet, but it definitely happened, and I think that figure of 800 pounds a week is accurate.
Sounds like wholesome British fun to me, I don’t know why people can’t mind their own business. Like Big Sausage Pizza, chaining up rent boys and threatening them with dildos is good for a couple of hours on a Saturday afternoon, but these people who build their whole lifestyle around it give me the creeps.
Boy George is the only pop star I have ever met. When I was about 10 they bussed a load of kids my from school up to London to be in his video The War Song. I don’t know who organised it or why, but we were forced to dress up as skeletons and walk down a street to make some trite point about war being stupid.
In fact, he couldn’t have been more wrong. War is great, providing children with fresh air and healthy exercise. If it weren’t for war and the opportunities it gives them, Congolese children would be as fat and repulsive as our English bratties.
Not long after I appeared in his video, Mr Boy was in some kind of heroin scandal*. I don’t remember if he was arrested or if it was just a story in the papers, but he wrote a letter to our school apologising for letting us all down. I think he thought he was a role model for us, though before they forced me to be a skeleton in the man’s video I had never heard of him. One of the teachers read his letter out in assembly. It said something like, “Drugs are bad. Whatever you do, children, don’t spend 800 pounds a week on heroin.”
And to this day I have never spent 800 pounds a week on heroin.
I'm on at 3.13
*This was about 1982 or 1983. I can’t find anything about it on the internet, but it definitely happened, and I think that figure of 800 pounds a week is accurate.
Friday, January 16, 2009
About a decade ago I conducted a survey on the wine and spirits trade in the Gaza Strip. Here are my findings.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
BLOGGING IS FOR TOSSERS
My post about Big Sausage Pizza has degenerated into a row about Jews and the Israel-Palestine question. This nuisance must now cease.
This is a web site, primarily, for the pizza-lover. People come here to read about pizza, cock-munching and things of that kind. They don’t want to have to wade though a lot of extraneous material about the Israeli Air Force.
As it happens I agree with Sol Kashberg, but what does he want me to do about it? Is he under the impression that my views carry great weight with the State Department and the Israeli High Command? I am one of the few people in the British bloggingsphere who has ever lived in the Gaza Strip, and I like to think that for once I am marginally less ignorant than average on the issue of the day. But mouthing off about it on the internet would only serve to confirm my own impotence, whereas by writing about Big Sausage Pizza I feel I can really make a difference.
Palestine is the happy hunting ground for minds that have lost their balance. Blogging is for tossers.
This is a web site, primarily, for the pizza-lover. People come here to read about pizza, cock-munching and things of that kind. They don’t want to have to wade though a lot of extraneous material about the Israeli Air Force.
As it happens I agree with Sol Kashberg, but what does he want me to do about it? Is he under the impression that my views carry great weight with the State Department and the Israeli High Command? I am one of the few people in the British bloggingsphere who has ever lived in the Gaza Strip, and I like to think that for once I am marginally less ignorant than average on the issue of the day. But mouthing off about it on the internet would only serve to confirm my own impotence, whereas by writing about Big Sausage Pizza I feel I can really make a difference.
Palestine is the happy hunting ground for minds that have lost their balance. Blogging is for tossers.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
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.
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.
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