Thriller

You've seen the original,

You've seen the wedding videos

Now check out the Philippino prisoners!

I thought this was brilliant. Yes, they're real prisoners. Yes, they're really doing the Thriller dance. They find it better than daily exercises apparently.


Shat nav
Yes, Sniffy has her Shat Nav. I'm not convinced in all honesty, but it's a gadget, and you can never have too many of those. I've already had a bit of fun with it, ignoring it and going the proper way home instead of the convoluted route that it was trying to take me:

"When it is safe to do so, turn round"

Yeah right.

I'm going to see what happens when I keep going round a roundabout and missing my exit.

You put in the postcode of the street where you live or work and it takes you to the alley at the end of the road.

I want to see what it does if I drive down a tramway in the middle of town.



Somewhere, over the rainbow....
Weigh a pie.

Looking forward to the Rainbow Parade tomorrow. Perhaps if I carry my pink Union Jack, the BNP won't get me and I'll just have to fend off the religious extremists instead.

Cocks.

I need a hero

I am very excited. Heroes starts on telly tonight.

Imagine living your life as normal, with the odd weird thing happening, only to find out in adulthood that you've actually got special powers.

Similar to boy wizard Harry Potter, whose magical powers were unknown to him until he was made aware of his wizarding heritage at the age of 11. And so it ends, and that's where I've been; reading the final instalment of the series. I had to read the Deathly Hallows as quickly as possibly in case some bastard tried to ruin it for me. Four days isn't bad for me; I'm quite a slow reader.

I really enjoyed this one - a fitting end to a most enjoyable literary era. When you think about it, it's been quite unique; all these millions of children growing up with Harry and chums. With each book, the stories darkened, the writing style aged accordingly too.

So that's that.



Under the weather
Parts of the midlands have quite literally been under the weather since torrential rain caused heavy flooding at the weekend. Many towns are cut off, without a fresh water supply, without electricity. Vulnerable people have been airlifted from their homes. Those who remain can only wade through deep water to get to the shops, shops that have very little stock. Bottled water is being dropped off to the stranded by RAF helicopter. It's something akin to a third world disaster zone.

I was watching the scenes on the news the other morning and it occurred to me that Tesco were really missing a trick. With all their billions, how come they haven't invested in a few Chinooks and a frigate to drop off provisions bought through their online shopping service?


Excitement
This weekend sees me and Trump going on a Pride parade in the town where she grew up and now works. It's not the most cosmopolitan place on the planet and is seen to be home of some very polarised communities: large areas of solely muslim occupants separated from solely white areas. The demographic profile has caused problems and has been a magnet for extremist trouble makers on both sides.

A gay pride parade is probably about the only thing that will unite them.

Ain't diversity a wonderful thing?

If you're in the North West on Saturday and have nothing better to do, come along and show your support. You can contact me for details if you're serious.

If we survive the muslim extremists and BNP and get through Saturday, Sunday sees us pick up Little Rocky. Little Rocky? Who?

This is Rocky:

I've never had a dog before. I am excited.

At the moment, he is a furball, but once he is grown a bit and clipped to shape, he'll be a miniature Schnauzer.

I think the priority is getting him an appropriate neckerchief, but Trump is thinking of boring things like toilet training and discipline. I think Looshkin will have his face off within a minute if she's given the chance.

Updates to come.

Now... HEROES!

Dry the rain

This is the definition of my life; lying in bed in the sunshine...

Well, that's a fucking laugh, we've had no sunshine here since the first week of June - nothing but fucking miserable rain, with temperatures no higher than 20°C. I'm so depressed. But even so, and no matter how tempting, I hadn't gone into hibernation for the past couple of weeks, I've just been networkless.

But anyway, keen observers will have noticed a connection between a certain photo from my previous post with a certain hospital that was shown on television news after a number of foreign doctors were arrested following a botched islamic terrorist bomb plot here in the UK.

Good eh? You work at a place for 6 years and fuck all happens until the day after you leave. It probably says something about the organisation too: rubbish at balancing its books; in constant hot water with the press (fairly or not) over poor clinical services; but brilliant at turning out alleged terrorists!

According to sources back at Base 2A, Posh Scouse was at her faffing, flapping best at the news. Had I been there, I'd have been tempted to cure her hysteria the only way I know how. It would've been a mercy slapping.

Boring news things.


Hi, I'm Sniffy and I am a Virgo. I love computers and Hot Tamales!
Oh yes I do! And this week, I received two consignments of hot cinnamon delights from over the seas. I'm so happy. My gums and tongue hurt from trying to eat them by the mouthful.


Toxic Trump
She's hungover. She's been eating crap. She's sat next to me in bed. She's trumping.

We went to a barbecue yesterday afternoon - there was a gap in the rain clouds and somebody took advantage of the only dry afternoon in months. After missing the first round of food, we ate crisps; she drank beer, me, the usual Pepsi Max.

We're enjoying outdoor pursuits today too. An outdoor music festival in Salford. Middle of July, should be OK, even in England? This is the weather forecast, courtesy of the BBC.

Shit, non?

I hate this fucking country. Everything about it is totally horrible.


Tori Amos and the ADHD audience
We went to see Tori Amos last week. Trump decided that she didn't want to be there and sat, arms folded the entire evening, showing no appreciation for the wonderful musician performing on stage.

She, and I, were even less appreciative of the fucktards on our row who found it impossible to sit through a two hour concert without constantly getting up to go to the bar or the toilet. For fuck's sake, what is wrong with them? I was sat at the end of the row and on the tenth occasion that one of them returned, pleadingly saying "Sorry?" and wanting me to stand up so they could return to their seat, I was so very tempted to tell them "No, go round and disturb somebody else, cunt!". I just scowled at them instead.

They know they're being annoying, they stand there and say "Sorry, can I be really annoying (again!) and get past you?" So should they be surprised if they were told no?

I blame the education system. We were never allowed to leave class to go to the toilet at primary school. We were taught the discipline to sit through the lesson and wait until break. They're not allowed to this these days because it infringes on children's human rights. Hence, when they get to adulthood, they expect to be able to walk out of concerts, training sessions, meetings, rather than waiting until they're supposed to go.

Fucktards.

They'll learn when they have poor bladder control by the time they're forty; relying on first Tena Lady then full incontinence pads.


Little Con
Here she is!

Clearly shocked and appalled at one of Trump's farts. And equally shocked and appalled at the revelation that she can go longer without having a wee than concert audiences.