Millennium building finally finished!

Another triumph of UK engineering! A triumph in a Millennium Dome, Channel Tunnel, Wembley Stadium kind of way.

After going over budget by £11 million and being completed five years late, the Spinnaker Tower in Portsmouth was opened!

To celebrate this new structure being open to the public, the previous Sunday there was a blessing for the tower, and it must have worked as on it’s first day the glass elevator jammed 100 meters off the ground with some more bloke stuck inside.

So hurray for the builders eh.

There’s just something about this country when it comes to big building projects that we simply can’t finish it on time, on budget and without it being a fucking waste of tax-payers money!!

Still at least the people of Portsmouth can see where their hike in council taxes are going to go at least. Excuse me while I stifle a laugh.

Most Haunted do Jack the Ripper

most-hauntedOoooo this is exciting, in a sense anyway.

The Halloween special of Most Haunted is going to be about Jack the Ripper, and I’m excited because I’m an avid reader of anything Jack the Ripper related.

I was a fan of this show but now it’s just degenerated into shite, but people still think it’s “spooky” or “something must be happening”. This will prove once and for all what bollocks it all is.

My tips for things to look out for during the show.

    1. Out of the two victims of the “double event”,was it coincidence that Catherine Eddowes and Elizabeth Stride were killed on the same night?

 

  • Was Mary Kelly’s murder really by the ripper or, as I suspect, made to look like a Jack the Ripper killing.

 

 

  • What was Mary Kelly’s real name?

 

 

  • What accent will Derek Acorah put on when he’s undoubtedly by Jack the Ripper? Scouse? American? Cockney?

 

 

  • Will Derek say that he can still detect the screams of the victims? If so he’s talking more shite than usual, there wasn’t any screams from the victims.

 

 

  • Graffiti on the wall in Ghoulston Street?

 

 

  • The lodging house in Batty Street where one of the major suspects is supposedly stayed?

 

 

I suspect he’ll go for Kominski as the murderer.

Irving ponders on subtleties of the weather that caused Hurricane Katrina

In today’s Action Report, he describes hurricane Katrina hitting New Orleans.

As per usual the reader waits for the anti-Semitic comment and it didn’t take long, although I was surprised in the context.

I am surprised incidentally that our traditional enemies do not object that only Aryan names are used for these disasters — why no Hurricane Isidore’s or Chaim’s?

What does it matters what they are called now, or who you can blame it on?

Twat.

Those special days of the year

Happy_valentines_daySo how was your Christmas?

Was it full of joy? Happiness? Turkey? All the family getting together and not having one argument?

Good for you, but let me describe mine.

I was bored shitless, sober and I got a load of wank as far as presents go. Season of goodwill? Bollocks.

Now you see, I have a few good reasons to hate Christmas, the first and foremost one is that it’s a religious holiday and I hate that shit as much as I hate that ring tone advert for the Crazy Frog.

But there is another side, and I think it can be applied to all of these so called special days we have in the year.

Mothers Day, Fathers Day, Valentines Day, Easter, Grandparents Day, Christmas, etc.

The idea of these are that we should be nice to each other.

On Valentine’s Day we are supposed to say “I love you” to our partners, and Christmas is the season of goodwill to all mankind, Mothers and Fathers Day is to show we love our parents and Grandfathers Day is to remind them they aren’t so far gone as to be put in a home.

Now the sentiment of it sounds all very good, but one thing puzzles me. Why do we need a special day to appreciate people?

What does it say about me, if on Valentines Day, I come home with six foot high FUCKING bunny hold a red heart with “I Love You” stitched on it’s foot? Does it say, “hey this is how much i lurve you”. or does it show I have so little imagination that I’ve fallen for the commercialised crap once more: you sad twat.

I don’t need to be told when to show my girlfriend how I feel about her, I tell her every day when I leave for work, when I get home from work, before I go to sleep, and when I wake up. Of course I buy her things throughout the year, little things that I think she’ll like and appreciate. That’s how you show someone you love them. Isn’t it?

Your Mother brought you into the world, she cared and looked after you as you grew up. And how do we show our love for our mothers? I’d put money that 90% of people do this: You buy her some flowers or chocolates. Yes well done Mum, and you can bet you’ll just get the chocs on Fathers Day as well.

Easter. What the fuck. Easter Eggs? How in the world does celebrating the death of some mythical supernatural get turned into giving Easter Eggs? I’ve read the Bible, and I don’t remember Jesus, the disciples and giant bunny giving kiddies chocolate eggs!!!

These days are bollocks, and I treat them with equal contempt. I refuse to play along with these commercialised special days, and certainly not just because some prick in a card shop tells me to. Fuck ya all, I’ll show how I feel about people in my own way, in my own time and without your £5 crappy card.

Hello? Menswear Please

debenhamsMy girlfriend and I moved house in November 2002. One of the many problems was a change of telephone exchange as we moved to the other side of the river, so we got a new phone number. The BT woman gave us a choice, and I just said give me a number with double numbers, so I can remember it quicker. Fine no problems, will take a 24 hours.

True to their word, for once, the phone line was set up the next day. Naturally I didn’t get a phone call from BT telling me that it was all done and dusted, oh no, what I did get was someone ringing up and asking “Hello, can I have menswear please?”. Huh!

Ok, that was signal the line was all ready, so I thought I’d ring around my family and friends to tell them the new landline number. I contacted my Mum and Dad, my brothers and my girlfriends parents and then I got another call, this time asking for kitchenware. I asked who they thought they were getting hold of and they said Debenhams. So they went away and must have dialled correctly so I ain’t heard from them since.

Two calls in a hour for Debenhams? Surely we can’t be that similar. I looked in the phone book and, what are the odds eh, our phone number was the same as the Debenhams in Exeter, but with two digits transposed.

The calls continued, “Hello Estee Laudee please” or “Jewellery please”. There was only so much I could take of this, and I sort of convinced my girlfriend not to change the number as I ain’t losing my broadband connection for another 10 days while BT engineers fuck around flicking switches at the exchange.

So for pure entertainment as I was unemployed when we first moved in, I got a section of Volker Tripp’s “Harm Me with Harmony” tune, and looped it. Right I was ready for them now 🙂

Me: “Hello is that Debenhams?”
Customer: “Yes Sir/Madam, I’ll just put you on hold”

Put the phone next to the speakers, double click the icon on my desktop, and the person at the other end of the phone gets a couple minutes of “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck reputation”.

Me: “Sorry Sir/Madam, would you call ba… oh they’ve hung up.”

Another was just to tell them that the store was closed and suggest a shop with clothes of similar quality… like Millets. Or I’d tell them that they sounded far too working class for Debenhams to be interested in their custom.

The calls have now stopped sadly.

10 Best things to happen to me. Okay, make it eight.

Getting a Speccy in 1983

Christmas is depressing to me at the best of times, but last Christmas was even worse. It was 20 years since I was given my first computer.

Like every other kid in the country, I looked for my presents in October-ish, and I found in the bottom of my brothers wardrobe a little black box on it, didn’t have a clue what it was or how shit it would make life in the future.

Seeing U2 at Wembley

I got two tickets for their Pop Mart tour but was really pissed at reading the reviews for the start of the tour. The reviews slammed U2 for not playing older material and stop-starting on their new stuff.

But when we went to see them, they were just out of this world. Sung so much and so loudly I couldn’t speak for a day or two after.

One thing that spoiled it was missing the last train back from Paddington station so I slept on the platform until the 8am one. Part from that, top day.

Discovering alcohol

I discovered alcohol when I was young, five years old. My brother had a bottle of Clan Dew whiskey in his wardrobe and not realising what it was, I drank what was left in a bottle. It was in winter 1976 and my mother had to call out the doctor because she was worried about what was wrong with me. God knows what went through my parents head when the doctor said I was pissed, but it’s become a story that comes out whenever my mother gets the chance.

I never lost the taste for alcohol from those small beginnings, but I never touched whiskey again for some reason.

First vector in assembler on the Amiga

A little sad I know, but I was chuffed to fuck when I saw my first vector spinning on all three axis, zooming in and out, and I should add that it was under 50fps as well. My first attempts were crap to say the least.

Now for those of you out there who’s saying “oh is that all”, you have to remember that at this time, there was no internet, BBS’s were not easy to get on and the only way you could learn to code was having a friend who learnt, some crappy coder tutorial disks that were invariably Seka only, resourcing other peoples demos or looking at the hardware reference library book.

We were in contact with fellow coders, someone from the Mighty Druids and Dan of Anarchy, who pointed us in the right direction with formulas and theory.

My girlfriend

As you can imagine, it take someone with particular qualities to live with me – patience, tolerance and more patience. Get the sick bag ready, here comes the mushy bit. When I first met Amanda (that’s my girlfriend in case you cared) I realised what love was – “Ah!” – not lust with my previous relationships. We’ve been together six years and I’m as happy now as I’ve ever been.

Discovering The Beatles

A seminal moment in my life that has turned into an obsession.

Leaving school

I hated school, hated the teachers, hated the studying, I hated every fucking last part of it. You couldn’t see me for dust when it finished. Always remember the drips going around school with autograph books and crying because they’d never see each other again. News for you, I couldn’t wait to leave the fuckers behind and get on with life.

The FA Cup Final in 1979

This was, in my opinion, the last classic FA Cup Final and I’m sure anyone who watched it (especially those fine Arsenal fans) won’t forget it either.

Arsenal were playing Manchester United on a blistering hot day, and Arsenal went 2-0 up. McIlroy decided to spoil the party a little by scoring twice in two minutes. It looked like a replay was almost certain until a low cross went past United keeper Gary Bailey and Alan Sunderland threw himself at the ball and knocked it in the back of the net.

What every young girl should know

This is, or rather was, a genuine web site based in Sweden which I saw a very very long time ago, but I pissed myself laughing so much I had to save it out. Once again, this is 100% genuine, I’ve not touched it or spell checked it. This is REAL advice a la Sweden.

Unfortunately, many men who seem attractive on the surface are actually strongly homosexual, often without even knowing it. Men with lean waists, overdeveloped chests, arms and clean skin are actually unconsciously obsessed by male bodies. You should stay far away from men who are athletes or rock stars, and men who feel compelled to dress in fancy suits with clean shirts and polished shoes. These “men” often have a compulsion to spend money on sumptuous meals, taxicabs, and expensive trinkets to compensate for their affliction.

Experienced, self-confident lovers, the kind you want, don’t need to alter the natural contours of their bodies. They are content with slender arms, relaxed chests, and waists with a comfortable amount of flesh, which can come in handy during moments of intimacy (why do you think they call them “love handles”?)

One other tip: Married men can be depended on not to cause embarrassing rumors about you at home or school. Men on short business trips are discreet, grateful, and particularly driven by passion. Look for them!

How big should a man be?

Don’t by shy. It’s an important question, and one surrounded by confusion. The average man’s penis is 2 1/2 to 3 inches long. Men substantially larger than this must often undergo painful surgery to cure their condition. In thickness, the average man is somewhat larger than a ball-point pen.

How long should a man last?

Some men can prolong the sex act beyond the once-imponderable thirty-second barrier; intercourse with an experienced man can go for up to forty-five seconds. Once in a long while, you’ll find a man who can “last” as long as a minute. Whatever you do, don’t let your girlfriends know you’ve landed one of these desirable “sixty second wonders.”

How do i know if I am having an orgasm?

The female orgasm is a sensation that’s very hard to put into words, but most fulfilled, experienced women agrees that it “feels like something inside of you.” When a man’s penis is inside your vagina, or mouth or buttocks, that is an orgasm. You’ll find a really skilled lover applies the same techniques to love as a gourmet does to a meal; he “leaves a little something on your plate.” When, after intercourse, you feel a vague sensation that there could be “more to come,” that “vaguely unsatisfied” feeling,” then you can be sure you’ve experienced a sexually memorable adventure.

What is a multiple orgasm?

There is no such thing.

What about oral sex?

This is one of the most significant differences between the sexes. If you look at pictures of a man and a woman, you’ll see the a man’s penis fits naturally into a woman’s mouth. On the other hand, a man’s mouth does not naturally fit into a woman’s vagina. Thus, a woman orally stimulating a man is performing a “natural” act. But a man seeking to put his mouth on or near your vagina is committing an “unnatural” act (why do you think they call the vagina your “private parts”?)

What is afterplay?

Men have ways of expressing their satisfaction. His satisfied sigh, followed by a deep, consuming sleep, is a sure sign that he, and you are “GIB.” Another example of male “afterplay” is his turning on a football or basketball game immediately after climax. Many women find a particularly satisfying postcoital experience in going into the kitchen and bringing a nice, cold beer for the man, along with a light snack, sandwich, potato chips and dip, to help her love put back depleted calories.

What is impotence?

Impotence is what happens when a girl fails to stimulate her man properly. This can happen when her figure is not perfect, or when she tries to talk with him for too long before getting into bed with him. If this happens, you can help by turning on a sports event on TV or getting your man a sandwich. Another really good “foreplay” technique is to invite a really good-looking girl friend over, and do whatever he asks, to him or to each other, while he watches.

How can I keep the mystery alive?

One good way to keep things from becoming routine is to vary your dress. Garter belts, black mesh stocking, leather or rubber suits will all help get your man’s attention. Also, don’t keep playing “one on one.” Invite your more attractive and energetic girl friends over to take part. Another technique. and we think the best, is to use anonymous names. Have your lover call himself “Mr. Smith.” Don’t let him tell you where he lives, or his home telephone number. You’ll find it lends an air of real “mystery” to the affair.

How can I meet real men?

When looking for the ideal man, about twenty-five to fifty, married, on a business trip, with enough flab to assure you of his masculinity, go to a ‘local’ about 8:30 at night. Look around the bar, then, when you’ve found your man, unbutton the top three or four buttons on your blouse, wink at him, walk over and whisper in his ear, “You’re cute, can I buy you a drink?” This is a real conversation icebreaker and things will naturally progress from here.

Stupid people having accidents in the UK

stupid_people_thumb[1]Stupid people in this world need some sort of protection. These are just some examples of what hospitals have to deal with each year.

    • Eating and drinking caused 42,000 casualties.

 

  • The harmless looking slipper caused 37,000 injuries to cretins.

 

 

  • That innocent looking flower make look safe, but that don’t stop them injury 3,500 a year.

 

 

  • Tissue paper injured over 1,500 people. Bet they were all teenagers wanking over a copy of Razzle.

 

 

  • Clothes pegs and BLU-TACK kill several people.

 

 

  • 14 people are seriously injured by mushrooms.

 

 

  • Eggs kill 17 idiots a year.

 

 

  • 95 hurt by wooden spoons.

 

 

  • 103 by frying pans.

 

 

  • 40 by cheese.

 

 

  • 398 people injured while falling off toilets. I know the feeling…stop straining so much is my advice.

 

 

  • 4,400 people are injured every year pulling on their trousers!

 

 

  • 6,585 accidents are caused by socks/tights.

 

 

  • Pyjamas cause 768 injuries a year.

 

 

  • Dressing gowns 691.

 

 

  • 12,170 people were injured by vegetables.

 

 

  • 520 ice cream related accidents each year.

 

 

  • Magazines inflict nearly 3,000 injuries.

 

 

  • Toothbrushes knobble 500 victims.

 

 

  • Cotton buds can claim an astonishing 880 victims.

 

 

  • Christmas tree lights kill 80 people a year (or in one month presumably).

 

 

  • The humble personal stereo kills 80 people a year.

 

 

  • Hardhats were involved in 214 home or leisure accidents.

 

 

  • Saucepans were involved in 262.

 

 

  • 67,000 people go to casualty departments every year because of accidents with packaging.

 

 

Remember that these fuckwitts are allowed to vote!