MeeeGRAIN

I was poorly last night. I think I had a bit of a migraine, although it might just have been a bad headache that made me throw up and feel like shite. Having been asleep from 10pm, I woke up at 5 this morning, wondering whether I felt well enough to go to work with the remnants of my head. I decided that I felt too washed out by the entire experience. Those sorts of things leave you feeling weak for a day or so afterwards; like you've had stroke - in the medical sense.

I should have gone back to sleep; I don't get enough, but the radio came on and stirred me fully from my half-waking state. As I pondered my intentions for today, I wondered what had afflicted me yesterday evening. And then it happened, I thought:

Why do some people pronounce migraine, meegraine? It sounds ridiculous. It's like when people say margarine with a hard g, or data as darta. Do they do it to get attention, as if saying "I had a migraine" isn't enough to make people realise they had a bad headache with nausea?

Titoids.


It's an iPod, a phone AND an internet communicator! That's right, an iPod, a phone AND an internet communicator!!
Steve Jobbie, head honcho of Apple or Mac, or whatever they're called, announced their wunderprodukt for 2007 at some sort of convention in America yesterday. I heard it on the radio this morning, his self-congratulatory tone, accompanied by gasps of wonderment and delight from thousands of applauding, adoring MacGeeks.

Wankers.

This product is going to be a mugger's dream. Already folks are warned not to advertise that they're walking the streets listening to their iPods; we're told not to use our mobiles where onlooking attackers might be lying in wait; this iPhonicator is everything bundled into one handy, and no doubt ridiculously overpriced bundle that is probably set to autocrash every ten minutes.

Well done Apple.

Let's face it, there are already mobile phones available that can play music, connect to the internet and take pretty good photos and video clips as well as, surprisingly, make telephone calls. Why would anybody want an iPhone? Probably because they've got more money than sense and prefer style over substance.


We don't cater for your sort
It's nice to see that the House of Lords has passed the Bill to prevent discrimination based on sexuality in the provision of services, despite protests from "faith groups", i.e. big-mouthed homophobes who align themselves to certain religions. This should prevent, for example, a hotel refusing to give a room to a gay couple because of their sexuality. It's odd that some of the so-called Christian protesters would like to refuse service to a gay couple, but wouldn't seek confirmation that a straight couple were married (to each other) before handing over the key to a hotel room. Hypocrites. Bizarre too that, despite laws banning things like "No blacks, No Irish" signs on hotels being in place since the 1970s, similar signs for "No gays" are essentially still legal.

I suppose the new legislation is a good thing, equal rights for all and that. But I think people know where they're welcome and I wouldn't want to give any of my money over to some crackpot bigot who lives their life based on fairy tales and superstition anyway.

Of course, there's a BBC News Have your say online debate about this. And it just gives the world's biggest bunch of backwards bigots an excuse to crawl out of the woodwork (yet again) to spout some hate-filled bile in the name of Allah. Just look at the sort of tits exist in this world:

Added: Wednesday, 10 January, 2007, 20:41 GMT 20:41 UK

Shame on parliament that has passed the regulation.The members of the parliament are the rebellion of Allah. They will be punished by law of nature very soon.Those who believe in holy books understand well that a entire community was stoned to death prior to Jesus,moses and the last prophet Muhammad( pbuh)simply because they were homosexuals.I think we should be aware of the fact that aids is the ultimate result of homosexuality. Shame Shame Shame.

Syed Aliyazdan Raza, Karachi, Pakistan

I'm sure if they looked hard enough in their holy books, they'd find some reason to stone themselves to death too. Prats.

I suppose this law brings an end to the days of "We don't like strangers round 'ere" and "This is a local shop for local people, there's nothing for you here", although I don't think it's discriminatory to refuse service to a potential customer on the grounds of them "looking a bit funny".

Prolonging the agony

I was supposed to be back in work after my Christmas break today, but I couldn't face it so I extended my leave for a couple more days. It's so depressing going back after a break. It should really make me more determined to get off my arse and get another job, but it just sends me spiralling into another depression that only lifts for a couple of months from May onwards.

There's got to be more to life than going through the motions of a job that brings little satisfaction or financial compensation. Thank goodness for the love of Trump and my friends and family... and my love of them... and gadgets.

My latest favourite gadget is a little FM transmitter that makes it possible to listen to an MP3 player through my car's stereo (some people refer to them as iTrips, but iTrips are supposed to be a bit rubbish); a fantastic little device that saved many hours of boredom on the drive to and from Norfolk over the past week.

There's something about Lincolnshire that makes me want to see it flattened, if it's possible to flatten the flattest county in the land. I'd travelled half way across the county on my way back from Norfolk when I looked at the trip clock to see that it had taken me an hour and three quarters to travel all of seventy miles. Lincolnshire's only redeeming feature is its pig farming heritage that brings us some wonderful pork products, the rest of it can be sacrificed as a chemical weapons test site or nuclear reactor for all I care.


Clicky
At the time of year when I really ought to be getting my arse down the gym, I'm actually scared of going because my left knee has developed a rather worrying and uncomfortable click whenever I descend stairs and things. I'm just worried in case it gives way completely while I'm on a treadmill. Let's face it, it's undignified enough as it is without my collapsing in agony.

I'm trying to persuade Trump to take up a bit of exercise with me. We're thinking of hanging out on bikes and doing jumps on the field near her house. I'm sure it would do wonders for our respective credibilities amongst the gangs of local ne'er do wells and car thieves who use the same field to drive stolen cars on before setting fire to them.

Ah well, I won't know whether my knee will hold out unless I give it a go.

Fuck, why did I let myself go?

Copyrighting cunts

I hate it when you buy the DVD for a TV programme and they change the soundtracks to take out certain songs because of copyright and royalties. You watch the programme and get used to the the background music, which often consists of famous chart songs and stuff, but you buy the DVD and all the music has been replaced by something that's been done on a Bontempi.

They don't even warn you on the packaging and some of the bastards have the cheek to advertise the series' soundtracks for you to buy on CD! The worst offender was ITV's Cold Feet, which used songs throughout the series, released two CDs of the music, yet stripped all the songs from the DVD release.

I got Tittybangbang, a comedy sketch show, on DVD and they've done the same with this. It's not as noticeable because they didn't use music as much, but it's still annoying.

Bastards.


Turkey curry
One of the things that I look forward to more than anything at Christmas is turkey curry. The 27th of December is always turkey curry day in the Sniffy household - Connie is peeling onions as I type! Yummeee.


Running off to the circus
I got a set of juggling balls for Christmas. Let's just say, it's going to be an awful long time before I start throwing things about that are on fire.


Techno paradise
I also got a new PDA. I love it. It connects to the internet and everything.


Birthdays at Christmas
I despair at the number of people I know with birthdays in December and January, one in particular is the delightful Trump, who celebrates tomorrow. I don't mind buying two sets of presents, it's the fact it's impossible to buy birthday cards at this time of year. I'm sure she'd appreciate me making her one instead!

Merry Sniffmas, 2006

Nothing much else to add except Merry Christmas to everybody. I hope that everyone is with the ones they love, or at least not too far away from them.

I am starving, I need something to eat. People go on about their hearty, oo-la-la Christmas Day breakfast, but for me, this consists of half a kilo of selection box chocolate.

Bring it on!

Mulled whine

The festive season brings out the worst in some people - as well as the best in many others. I mean, I can't believe the audacity of folk wanting to use cloves all of a sudden. Throughout the year, the supermakets' Schwartz herbs and spices shelves are virtually overflowing with jars and packets of these little spice bombs, but with three days to go to Christmas, you can't get hold of them for love nor money.

I blame Nigella Lawson. Delicious as she is, her fancy London-ways have given normal folk ideas above their status and even the most lowly of plebs is doing stuff with spices. Amongst the common person's repertoire is mulled wine, which is supped by the mug full to sighs of pleasure and "OOooh, you can just imagine being back in them days, warming yourself next to a fire and eating roast pheasant using your fingers". Yeah, and I bet you can't imagine what it's like plucking and cleaning the fucker beforehand, y'bastard!

And of course, cloves are also used to stud gammon joints before crisping up their glaze in the oven. This was the intended purpose of the cloves that I couldn't source. Never mind, Christmas won't be ruined without them.

Cinnamon sticks are also in short supply. I think this is because of The Guardian and The Observer readers using them in wrapping of Christmas gifts or to scatter with abandon to decorate the Christmas table. Ponces. I know of a certain couple of the Sisterhood who are preparing gifts of hampers, containing home-made fudge and organic, fair-trade goods. I'm sure gadgets are cheaper.



Rudolf with your nose so bright
Won't you guide my plane tonight.

Yes, the south of England's air traffic has been severely disrupted by a thick fog that has been stuck over that part of our small island for the past couple of days. Domestic flights cancelled, international flights subject to long delays - all because the air traffic controllers can't see when the planes have cleared the runway at Heathrow.

It's good to see that the stoicism of the British people is alive and well, with stranded, blanket-wrapped travellers accepting their lot with comments like "it's only fog, I don't see why they can't fly" or "nobody will tell us what's going on and why they've stopped all the flights."

Perhaps British Airways might consider changing its recruitment policy to include extremist Islamic suicide pilots for occasions such as these, just so certain people can be assured of getting on their flights on time.

I pity the fool.


Sweet home Alabama
Somebody in the Alabama School of Maths and Science has been searching for "Cliff Richard gay" and found my blog! And the same person seems to be leaving comments on the post that they found, which was written in July, perhaps thinking I might go back and respond. No I won't, but since Cliff has taken it upon himself to hijack Christmas, I might just remind everyone why I hate the vain little cunt.

A victory for sanity

We're having lasagne for tea on Christmas Eve. This can only mean one thing:

Yes folks, threatened with mass protests, Connie has put them back on the menu!

She has seen sense and has decided to provide the family with a fucking delish Christmas Eve meal of lasagne, leaving us to have our proper Christmas dinner on Christmas Day. Thank fuck for that. I was on the verge of calling Social Services to get her put away, thinking she'd finally lost all remnants of sanity.


Finished
Finally finished for Christmas today, it's been such a struggle getting through these past few weeks.

I am now looking forward to a good break in which I will be spending lots of quality time with people I care about instead of wasting lots of my time with total arseholes.

Tonight, I ice my cake! Oh the joys of all that sticky white powder getting everywhere. What fun I shall have, trying to be creative while Mother hovers around me, criticising.

I shall be meeting up with Trump tomorrow morning and we will start the day with a leisurely stroll around the supermarket, amongst people who will be filling trolleys with bread because 5 loaves and 16 packets of barmcakes aren't quite enough to last the WHOLE DAY that the shops are shut on Monday. It's not as if there's nothing open on Boxing Day, stupid selfish cunts.

We will spend the next few days relaxing and getting increasingly excited at the prospect of being together on Christmas morning as we open out presents to each other. I may have to sedate her in the meantime as her request for clues reaches an unbearable climax.

On Sunday, we're here a la casa Cakesniffer for dinner. Mother asked if I'd be returning home after dropping Trump back at hers. "I hadn't planned on coming back until early Christmas morning", I replied pleadingly.

"But who's going to help me get ready for Christmas Day?"

"In all honesty, Mother, all I do on Christmas Eve is eat Twiglets and pretzels while getting under your feet. It's Dad that does all the helping."

"Oh, yeah, that's true. Well, make sure you're back early on Christmas morning!"

Nice one!

I don't want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need. I won't think about the presents underneath the Christmas tree. I just want you here tonight, holding on to me so tight. What else can I do? Baby, all I want for Christmas, is YOU!



Dirty little bugger
I can't believe some of the things people video... and then upload on to You Tube. Check this filthy little beast out.

Squirrel nutcase

I've read a report on the BBC News website about some Russian black squirrels that attacked a stray dog and mauled it to death. They ran off when they saw humans approaching, but they each took a bit of the pooch with them. Vicious little bastards.

In the words of Boney M's (Ra Ra) Rasputin:

Ahh, those Russians!

Meanwhile, be warned when trying on cheap imported jeans from China. One Japanese woman ended up in hospital for five days after being stung by a scorpion that had been transported in the legs of the pair of jeans she was trying on. Wondering why she'd got a sharp pain in her knee after an initial sting, she got caught out again when she patted her knee with her hand.

Ouch!


Breaking up is hard to do
Bollocks it is. Breaking up from work for Christmas that is. I finish tomorrow and I'm counting the hours to 4pm when I can turn off my PC and say goodbye to my untidy desk for nearly a fortnight.

I'm not really feeling Christmassy yet, but no doubt a couple of days roadraging for parking spaces at the supermarket and tripping over spasmo shoppers will get me feeling all festive and warm inside.

I'll have Trump with me to calm me, so all will be fine. Actually, she winds me up even more by not agreeing with me when I complain about the tossers who see their sole purpose in life as being irritants to the rest of us.


Bombshell
Nope, nothing to do with my increasingly insane sister, this is related to Mother.

I noticed a bag of sprouts in the kitchen on Sunday and asked if they were the Christmas ones. "No, we're not having sprouts with Christmas dinner this year. I'm doing a lasagne and we're having the turkey with salad and pickles and things afterwards."

I almost fainted. Christmas dinner, the BEST meal of the year, without sprouts, roasties, parsnips and gravies? She must be fucking mad.

This is like the 2004 tsunami, Farepack and the Grinch stealing Christmas all rolled into one.

People always go on to me about how wonderful it is that I am half Italian. No it's fucking NOT wonderful, not when it ruins my Christmas it isn't. I bet none of you bastards are having some weird foreign stuff on Christmas Day (unless you're weird and foreign).

I can't believe it. There is some very strong lobbying to be done in the coming days. I may have to go in the local newspaper, photographed looking forlornly and pointing at a bag of raw sprouts. "Salford woman seeks adoption from proper English family".

Shocked and appalled.