Face-crook!

Dylan Osborn had repeatedly harassed his estranged wife with 'phone calls and text messages, yet once ordered to cease by magistrates had kept his distance. Then he joined Facebook... which automatically sent messages to all his e-mail contacts inviting them to join him. Including said ex-wife, who contacted the police the very next day. A plea that he was confused by the sign in procedure only freed him seven days into the ten day sentence he had been given for breaking the restraining order.

Facebook - the new menace to society!

Cheers m'dears!

I meant to write this yesterday, but...

A study into procrastination and it's causes recently concluded that the increasing influence of technology on our lives - chiefly the mobile 'phone and the internet - has led to us becoming more and more distracted, thereby causing us to put more of our tasks to one side and miss deadlines more frequently. In addition to this the ease in which we can be reached through this new technology is increasing our stress levels, causing us to work less productively and need more 'downtime', something we often seek to achieve through personal surfing and game-playing on the internet... and usually at a time when we are meant to be doing something else.

I can vouch for all this, as I sit at work with a mountain of lesson-planning to be done, merrily relating all this to you on my blog. But what amused me most about this study is that it was planned as a 5-year project... yet took 10 years to complete. Oh, the irony.

Cheers m'dears!

Televisual Tossery

So what happened to the good old days of the BBC? Auntie Beeb, giving us slice by slice of glorious British life through those twin delights of Comedy and Drama... astounding us with documentaries explaining just how bizarre and un-British the rest of the world was... and, of course, informing us of how wonderful our country was and what rotten Johnny Foreigner was up to through its unrivalled news service. An era when programming started at 8.37am sharp and ended at bedtime, 6.02pm, with a pride-inducing blast of 'God Save The Queen' (followed by a rousing chorus of 'Knees Up Mother Brown' on every third Sunday). An innocent age when the licence fee cost thruppence and ha'penny and the Radio Times came with a digestive biscuit each week as a free gift... *Sigh*, the good old days...!

Of course that was all back in the days of my childhood when we only had BBCs 1 and 2 and their ruffian of a neighbour, ITV. Nowadays there is Satellite, Cable... you name it. And even those Neanderthal-minded technophobes who can still only receive terrestrial channels have had their quota upped with the emergence of Channels 4 and 5. All of which has sadly led to a demise in programming, leading us to be force-fed such travesties as Pop Idol and Big Brother whilst inanities like "Two Pints of Lager and a Packet of Crisps" are laughingly bestowed the rank of 'Comedy'. Even the Grand Old Soap Operas, once the bastion of British Televisual Entertainment, have had the credibility of their storylines stretched far too far by an insistence that they air 27 times a week.

Surely things can get no worse? Surely there is no more room for utter shite on television? I mean, surely the only way broadcasting could stoop any lower would be to show, oh... I don't know... a marathon masturbation session, for example - literally, a load of wank.

Oh no they wouldn't...!?

Oh yes they fucking would!

Channel 4 - the land that good taste ran like buggery from...

Cheers m'dears!

A Little Light Relief (and other not-so-tall tales)...

In Jamaica the argument over distribution of condoms in male prisons (fought between the pro-"protecting against STDs" group and the anti-"encouraging sexual activity" lobby) has finally been settled with the Government opting to allow inmates to kill each other off slowly and painfully by spreading AIDS. A poor-taste humourist might make a crack about lethal injection, but not I...

In India, however, they may want to consider banning lightbulbs rather than condoms as one inmate recently had to have one removed from his arse. Intact. Claiming to not know how it got up there (what the fuck?!) Fateh Mohammad had gone to the prison hospital with a pain in his lower abdomen. Upon its discovery (see x-ray, above) a delicate operation ensued to remove it without breaking the glass... perhaps unsurprisingly Mohammads doctor states that he has never encountered anything like this before...

In other news I am astounded to learn that research has unearthed the cause of Japans falling birth rate. Quite simply, people are not having sex. Yep, that'd do it. Various reasons are to blame (you know, the usual shit like long work hours), although maybe people are just finding each others footwear a turn-off... this is the country from which those evil flip-flops developed, after all. I have always said, right from my very first post, that those things should be destroyed - and now evidence is on my side that even if they don't play a part in Japans demographics they still fuck up your ankles (and your career).

...and I'm not even going to start about the Estonians. Bunch of fucking weirdos!

Cheers m'dears!

XX or X-Why?

We are living in a time where more is understood and accepted about gender identity crisis than ever before (although, as in any so-called "minority rights" case we still have a journey ahead of us). Back in the UK I was good friends with a wonderful woman who had been born a man. To be frank, and despite my protestations of being 'right-on', I found it hard when I first met her as she was in a transitionary stage and some days she would arrive to work dressed as a man, others as a woman, but once she entered the final stages of her transformation and settled as a woman it was not even remotely difficult to accept her as such. And for her to have finally done this in her late '50's, having already fathered two now grown up children in a previous marriage, took tremendous courage.

That was not my first experience of meeting a trans-gender person (I know of two before that, but who knows - there may have been more) but it was the first time that I had taken the time to develop a friendship. And now, of course, living in South East Asia (where male-to-female ops are cheap and plentiful) , I regularly see women that used to be men... they can often be spotted as just being too damn perfect looking to have been born that way, although many of them, sadly, end up selling the body that they just bought in order to pay the loans that facilitated their surgery. Despite being able to accept that some people were not born the gender that they feel they are, however, I struggle - a lot - with this...

At seven years old your body is still in the very beginings of development, and so is your mind... not to metion your personality. I know it is a dirty word, but youngsters do go through "phases"... Heterosexuals sometimes have a "gay phase" where they experiment; likewise I know homosexuals who had a "straight phase" in their youth. Hell, I remember questioning my sexuality way back when I was around 12, and my gender frequently through my teens and even my early twenties. But how many of us knew who we were at seven? What if he changes his mind...?

I've been pondering over this story for the better part of a week and still I find I cannot actually articulate why I think that bringing this boy up in this way is any more wrong than bringing him up in the "conventional" way. But it still sits uneasy on me... as always, your input would be greatly appreciated!

Cheers m'dears!

BBC? Bemused By Cockup...

Over on Thumping The Tub our friend Michael runs regular polls on various topical events. His current open musings ask what we think of the BBC - something I briefly touch on in this ancient post. And the reason I mention that?

Well, it seems that in its efforts to reach out to the common man the BBC has adopted the unusual approach of asking ordinary folk for expert opinions. For example, in debating the pros and cons of the Apple .v. Apple case BBC 24 opted to seek out the views of... a cabbie. Well, I suppose anyone who has travelled in a London cab before will know that the drivers aren't short of an opinion or two...

In this case, however, it was an almighty cock up. The intended interviewee was an expert named Guy Kewney. The bloke brought out on international TV? The cabbie who had come to pick him up after the interview whose name just so happens to also be Guy. Taxi for Auntie Beeb...

But at least the BBC are having a sense of humour about it - you can read the story on their own site, which will also let you watch the baffled driver gamely attempt to answer the questions posed to him...

Cheers m'dears!

Update: It appears that early reports that the Guy (ahem) was a cabbie were incorrect. He was, in fact, at the BBC for a job interview and had assumed that this was all part of the interview process, not realising he was live on air!

Bone idle...

The good folk from London's Metropolitan Housing Trust got a bit of a shock earlier this year whilst attempting to collect 3 years of back rent from an errant tenant. Having received no answer at the Wood Green residence they decided to drill the door open, discovering in the process a large pile of unopened mail... you can guess what's coming next, can't you!

Investigating the bedsit the Trust employees discovered the occupant lying on her back, dead. This was no slightly-smelly-yet-reasonably-fresh corpse, however, and nor was it a vomit inducing rotting mess. No, after three years in front of the television (still on) and basking in the helpful-to-decomposition glow of the central heating (also still on) poor Ms Vincent had become little more than a skeleton - so much so that the only way to positively identify her was by matching her dental records with a holiday photograph.

Of course an inquest was launched after she was discovered (in January this year), although the police are so far not speculating anything other than death by natural causes. The scant information that has so far been confirmed to the deceased's sisters and other family members, however, essentially indicate that she died sometime in February 2003.

Whoah there skippy.... back up a little.... Sisters? You mean they hadn't fucking noticed!? No-one had thought, "Oh, haven't seen old Joyce for a while. Wonder what she's up to?". Three days, yeah. Three weeks, sure. Three bloody months, even.... but three whole fucking years! And I thought MY family was close....

Actually, can we back that up even further... Television? Heating? Still on!? For Christ's sake, if I missed a payment for three months I'd be cut off! And I bloody wish my landlord would wait three years before coming around for the rent I owe him...

That not enough for you? Read the report here..., you gossip-greedy bastards!

Cheers m'dears!

ps - three years of daytime TV... is that purgatory or simply hell?

Marital Law

Take a look at this marriage contract, drawn up by Travis Frey of Iowa (right)... and make sure you read all 4 pages - it's not all easily legible, but try!!

It really requires little comment from me...

Cheers m'dears!

The Backward Aussie and the Heavenly Tap...

Twat of the month so far seems to be the Aussie guy who has been charged by police for "reversing further than necessary". Okay, that seems like an unusual crime and you may think that charging him is a little harsh... until you discover that his backward journey took him 40km along the Hume Highway (one of the busiest in the country), all because the reverse gear was apparently the only one on the car that actually worked. Silly sod...

But on to happier news... beer literally on tap! Huzzah! Lucky lady Ms Haldis Gundersen turned on her kitchen taps for the mundane task of washing some cutlery, but when the beautiful amber liquid gushed forth she "thought we were in heaven"... indeed! This was an especially happy occurence when you consider that she lives in Norway, one of the most expensive places for alcohol in the world (a 0.4 litre glass costs roughly five UK pounds). Unfortunately for her the free-flow didn't last for long... it was soon discovered that a worker in the bar two floors below had cocked up when connecting the barrel to the pipes. I'll bet the punters in his bar were none too happy with what they were being served!

Cheers m'dears!

Winnie the Loon

Tory MP and all-round pompous twat Nicholas Soames has been moaning about a new statue of his grandfather, Winston Churchill. "Absurd and pathetic" is how he describes the piece, which was commissioned by the mental health charity Rethink and depicts the wartime leader in a straitjacket. Churchill suffered from depression, an affliction that not so many years before his time may have consigned him to an asylum, and Rethink designed the statue to "portray a more positive image of mental illness".

Don't know about you but I think it's a bloody great idea! And I don't think we should stop there... what other icons can we use to similar effect, proving that a disability does not mean a complete lack of ability? Suggestions are welcome...

Cheers m'dears!

Cuddly Monsters, Bridal Goats, Rampant Lions and Mischevious Magpies!

Okay, I know I've already posted today, which is doubly unusual when you think how many days I don't post at all, but I have just reread my suicide piece and thought to myself, fuck... how about something a bit more cheery? Something like the revelation that Osama bin Laden likes hugs, or the news that a guy in Sudan was ordered to marry a goat after being caught in flagrante with it... or Scotland kicking arse in the rugby last weekend (hey, I've resisted the temptation to mention it for 3 days!).

Or how about this... I have been nominated for the prestiguous Blog of the Week Award over at Mischief of Magpies! Previous illustrious winners include the likes of Anti-Barney, Dept. of Hate and West Coast Ramblings (all of whom I voted for so I hope they fucking return the favour!). The only downside is that one fellow nominee is Mr Hynes from Bogol, whose site I very much like, as mentioned before. In case he's reading this let me say "Good Luck!"

The rest of you, however, do me a favour - Vote Tosser!

Cheers m'dears!

ps - If you haven't noticed yet there is a button down the right side for the Top 100 Scottish Blogs. I'm constantly floating in the mid-to-late-50's... If you're bored at any time, please do leave a comment there for me!

Dirty Habit...

Bizarre story of the month alert! No, not David Beckhams inability to do his 6 year old's homework (not really that surprising, let's be honest!) but the news that Paris Hilton has been approached to play the lead role in a new biographical film... about Mother Theresa!

Apparently South Indian film director T. Rajeevnath thinks she is perfect for the role and has already had his agents contact her people about playing the Albanian born "Angel of Calcutta". All because he was impressed with Hilton's moral fibre after she reportedly turned down the chance to pose nude for playboy...

...hasn't watched her most popular feature to date, "1 Night In Paris", then?

Cheers m'dears!

Gorilla Warfare!!!

What would my good friend Mr Gorilla Bananas have to say? On the tube to work I was reading the Daily Propoganda when I came across an article about Uena Zoo in Japan, who decided (perfectly reasonably) that they ought to have a drill in preparation for the possibility that a Gorilla might escape. After all, they have drills for earthquakes and tsunamis and the like - why not this other force of nature!?

Except that this drill involved hunting down and netting... a guy in a very bad monkey suit. We're not talking Planet of the Apes style makeup mixed with Andy Serkis method acting here. No, we mean looking like a reject from the wackily costumed team that hands out Sofa King promotional leaflets on a Bank Holiday weekend!

Not only does this strike me as utterly pointless - I'd wager a real gorilla might be a tad trickier to catch! - but it is also downright insulting to our simian bretheren! I demand that all apes now take to the streets in violent protest at this disgusting caricature!!! That'll learn 'em!

Cheers m'dears!

The Corpse Bride

A woman has risen from the dead in order to get married. No, not Tim Burton's film, but the unusual case of Maria Antonia Calvo, who had been unable to wed her intended due to having been registered officially dead in 1992. That's 14 years as a zombie. After an 8 year battle with the Civil Registry of Barcelona, however, she has finally been declared alive in court.

How did this happen? It appears that her brother declared her death in order to get his hands on her share of some inheritance that was under dispute. Unsurprisingly she intends to take legal action against said brother, something she had previously been denied as one of the 'undead'.

Now, aside from her bother being a devious git and Maria herself possibly being a bit dopey (it took her 6 years to realise?) you have to ask what the fuck is going on with the Civil Registry of Barcelona. I've only had to register a death once, and it wasn't in Spain so I do not know their procedures, but surely when you register a death you must need to provide some proof? You know, maybe a medical certificate, or at the very least a corpse. You don't expect to just turn up and say "Yeah, my sister's dead" - "Really? So sorry... sign here please". And then when Maria turned up at the court and presented herself to the judge? They still refused to amend their records!

8 years it took.... fucking nuts, I tell you!

Cheers m'dears!

The world is full of absolute twats....

....and not just the one on the right. Allow me to demonstrate:-

Twat 1 (a.k.a. "the 'in-denial' twat")

Mr Taro Aso, Japanese foreign minister, has gone on record to state that Japan's involvement in wars at the beginning of the 20th century (including the Second World War) purely amounted to 'self-defence'. I don't know a huge amount about Japanese military history but historical sources I have come across would disagree. Just to use one single example of this unusual take on 'self-defence' take a look at Pearl Harbour. Just a pre-emptive strike, was it? Mr Aso (I wonder if that's pronounced in the same way as a bad english impression of a Japanese person saying "arsehole"?) made his comments defending the Yushukan war memorial which depicts Japan as defending itself against Western colonialists. Hey, I ain't saying the west weren't bastards who fucked up a lot of countries but this claim is completely twattish. I mean, why not suggest Hitler only went to Poland to get his ball back?

Twat 2 (a.k.a. "the bull-shitting twat")

Surprise, surprise. Fresh from receiving a remarkably light sentence from the Bali court, where she had been appearing in Muslim dress, the model-cum-Islamic-'convert' Michelle Leslie buggered off to buy some stilettos and slip into somethinga little more comfortable (emphasis on the word 'little'... and possibly the word 'slip' too). Considering the bewildering predictability of this chain of events I can't even be fucked to comment any further.

Twat 3 (a.k.a. "the suicidal-yet-in-a-rather-amusing-way twat")

Sadrine Helene Sellies had a fear of flying, and so before boarding her flight she took sleeping pills, swallowed down with alcohol. She is apparently also a big-time sleepwalker, so when (whilst half asleep and simultaneously drugged up) she decided she needed a cigarrette her brain did not register a problem at all with opening the door to step outside..... in mid-flight. She was stopped by the flight attendants, which was lucky... because if she hadn't there probably wouldn't have been any survivors to tell us about her complete twattery. She get's my vote for the next Darwin awards, although I have to wonder whether she has ruined an important plot point for 'Lost'...?

But wait, there is hope!

Amongst the chaos of twats like these appears the dim but heartening light of people with a healthy sense of realism mixed with a dash of wit... cue Mr Ozzy Osbourne, quoted this week as saying "I don't smoke, drink or take drugs anymore. But knowing my luck, a bird will crap on me and I'll get bird flu on the way home"

Many thanks, Ozzy, for restoring my faith in human kind......

Cheers m'dears!