Friday, February 27, 2009

Vassalage?

I was reading through a document at work, where a company bidding to trade with my employer carried the claim:

"callers can talk to humans on the telephone"


I think we need to discover the provenance of these "humans" before anyone signs anything.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Runaway Swede Brings Metropolitan Harmony

Just came out of the tube tonight, and on passing the cashpoint, witnessed a queue of folk amused at the sight of a root vegetable escaping the shopping bag of the young woman at the ATM. Unseen by her, the swede rolled across the pavement towards the road until deftly tackled by an elderly lady who scooped it up, walked to the front, tapped the unwitting owner on the shoulder and offered it back. The young woman didn't assume that she was being attacked or robbed, but just turned and smiled, and gratefully accepted the gesture in the spirit that it was meant.

This is how London is, despite the paranoid suspicions of the tory provinces.

It is also a good advert for vegetable consumption as part of your five a day.

Road Sign Fun

OK, who painted stripes on the camel?

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Monday, February 23, 2009

David Barclay: Son Of Apologist



The Graveyard Man

We were walking Winchmore Hill at the weekend, and having inspected the Quaker cemetary, we fell into conversation with the groundsman who gave us a description of his charges.

"Over there" he pointed "are the Barclays; the founders of Barclays Bank!"

Before adding:

"At night I hear them turning in their graves over the current state of affairs!"


Alas poor Yorick!

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Gaelic / Polish Dictionary Needed

It transpires that Pravo Jazdy—Ireland's very own Keyser Söze—is actually the Polish for Driving Licence. Apparently, the Guarda have been looking for one recidivist motorist rather than many different Poles!

Will those plumbers stop at nothing?

Monday, February 16, 2009

KFC v. BMW: Thatcher Wins

I can't believe that I've lived long enough to witness an entire political cycle.

Back in cruel eighties, one of Thatcher's most vindictive manoeuvres against the working classes involved the systematic destruction of British industry with the intention of deskilling the workforce and migrating them into the low-paid service sector.

Almost three decades later, imagine the joy she'd feel at the news that there are job losses at BMW whilst junk food peddlars KFC are expanding.

Would you like fries with that?

Sunday, February 15, 2009

International Incident: Latest


Apparently the crowd turned ugly on the discovery that the "Scandanavian Special" transpired to be a performance on the Folk Dance Troupe of the Northern Provinces of Finland.

"It was a booking error, frankly"

a spokesman said

"The people of Lapland are very proud of their traditions, but unfortunately the men of North London don't share that interest! They prefer to watch a scantily clad young woman with low self-esteem from a disfunctional upbringing who has learned to pander to misogyny for short term gain!'

Friday, February 13, 2009

To Boldly Sale

Someone handed me their Business Card today, which describes them as a "Large Enterprise Office Account Executive".
 
He didn't appear that big, although there is the outside possibility that he has some kind of novelty company car built on a Star Trek theme.
 
Maybe he keeps the pointy ears in his briefcase.

Maybe I should ask?

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Forfar Five, Fife Four!

"I'm afraid this isn't the first time"
Stated Mayor Boris' doctor and apologist, Dr. Leo Spaceman:

"Mr Johnson gets on his bike in the morning and cycles off into the city without his medication and then THIS sort of thing happens!"

Well, today it occurred on the "meet the forces" special, where a deluded Boris was introduced to a military policeman, whom the Mayor was convinced was about to arrest him for desertion.

Bizarrely, this brought on a tirade of alliteration rooted on the letter F.

Such hasn't been heard since the Findus fish finger food factory foreclosure furore.

"Fi, facetious facultative factotum!" he cried, before instructing the bemused guard to "fly, feckless, foul-faced, far-fetched false-friend, for featherweights fear fancy-free foppish fiends!"

He continued to further accuse the MP of being a "fallacious fat fool", who was "formless, filthy, fraudulent, farinaceous and foolhardy" and a "fervent Fauvist!"

After fast-forwarding through Fairy; Flittermouse; Falderal;Fugatious and Fey, Boris eventually bid "Farewell" before escaping up a chimney.

Later, Dr Spaceman explained:

"It all goes back to Mr Johnson's schooldays. Boris once did poorly in an exam, as he could not think of the bon mot, yet was denied the use of a dictionary.

Following a beating from his house master with clown shoe, Boris vowed that it would never happen again, and prior to the next test, sat up all night with a crate of Lucozade and a Dictionary and committed the lot to memory.

He passed the exam, but I'm afraid the consequence was the shambling mess you see today!"


Adding for prurience:

And as for the alliteration, the last incident involved the Ancient Guild Mole Skinners and featured all of the L - words. It was a nasty business which left him with a seriously bruised tongue!"

Mr Johnson is still at large.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Where To, Guvnor?



I'm sure I'm the last one on earth to discover Black Cab Sessions, but that won't stop me encouraging you to go there.

Singers performing in the back of a London cab. Fantastic.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Horse News

When I heard that Ebbfleet in Kent was about to get a monumental White Horse, I assumed that they were building, like, a really giant pub.

Apparently not, just a colossal equine statue to welcome foreigners to the country as they arrive on Eurostar. It hasn't been announced whether it is to be a mare or a stallion, or whether, if the latter, whether it is to have a lifelike enormous penis falling and rising during the day like some kind of obscene meteorological gauge. An opportunity missed I'd say.

Meanwhile, elsewhere, Professor Nutt claims that the taking of ecstasy is no more than Horseriding! He is reticent however, on how the odds may shorten if riding the said horse whilst taking ecstasy.

Like the penis weather vane, I think we have a right to know!

Monday, February 09, 2009

Know Your Market


























I think this offer may say more about the readership of the Daily Express than they would care to admit.

Mind you, what with this weather, even I find that the prospect of the unheated lavatory seat can render myself somewhat reluctant and eventually in need of roughage.

However, I'd rather read the Beano with a bag of apricots; or just wait until spring, given the choice.

Friday, February 06, 2009

Gor Blimey: Leave It Out!

Eyebrows were raised in the open-plan today when my cockney lady colleague exclaimed:

"I've 'ad nuffink but grief from Mark Hunt today!"

Say it out loud in a London accent.

Thursday, February 05, 2009

Another British Triumph!


























Yes, it's been a big day for William "Olympic Stadium" Pontins, who successfully flew 300 metres through the acrid skies above East London having been fired from a trebuchet across the site of what will be the greatest Games EVER!

Pontins, a sanitation engineer and person of restrictive growth, first acquired a taste for flight as a young man, when he took part in the university Dwarf-throwing team.

"I was the dwarf." Bill told the Shoebox, "Sadly, my dreams of representing Team Britain as part of the Dwarf Throwing event at the Olympics was ended when the sport became outlawed. I only wish that the Sports Council could realise who the real victims are: the British public denied the spectacle of a dwarf expertly thrown across a pub car park!"

Sadly, it looked like his only chance to take part in the 2012 games would be in overseeing the sewerage for the arena, the athlete's village, and a generous number of officially sanctioned retail outlets.

However, the pint-sized projectile doesn't give up so easily.

"I believe that once the Olympic Committee get to witness the excitement of watching a small man in a union jack helmet get catapulted across a playing field using medieval siege-warfare technology, then they'll just have to include the Trebuchet as an official sport, and that's what we've done here today!."

"After all, " he added "they allow Human Canonballs, so this just an earlier version of that; sort of like greek wrestling compared to the WWF!"

On being told that there was no Human Canonball event as an Olympic sport, Bill appeared confused, asked us if we were sure, and then proceded to call someone on his mobile before refusing to discuss his triumph further.

Sadly, his wife, the 6'1" cruise liner chanteuse Rusty Latour was unable to attend as she is on stand-by for a yet-to-be-announced reality TV show.

Wednesday, February 04, 2009

Al Queda Are "That Way"

According to The Sun, Al Queda © are using homosexuality to make terrorists.

Yes, buggery makes young men turn into suicide bombers.

Osama Bin Ladyboys?

Tuesday, February 03, 2009

The Great Thaw of '09

Hey, guess what readers!

My colleagues still failed to turn up this morning as they were unwilling to risk the soggy streets, just in case their slippers should get moist!

For the record: I got to work quicker than I normally would because of the lack of people using the tube hastened the journey.

Interesting times:

a) the media tell us there's a disaster taking place out there, and people are too unwilling allow their own common sense to contradict what they're told, and so the populace err on caution.

b) since the Tories legalised the promotion of legal services via advertising, we have seen the growth of "have you been injured at work?" litigious actions, which have rendered the local authorities terrified in the face of any form of risk.

c) the loss of any form of National Pride which was once underpinned by the concept of the steely island race, when any form of mortal injury was dismissed as "a flesh wound!"

Hence, the last time London got hit by snow, the schools stayed open, parks were made accessible, buses ran and people cheered each other in as they ALL struggled to work.

Eighteen years later; we cower beneath the duvet, awaiting spring like pansies.

I blame Boris Johnson!

Monday, February 02, 2009

It's A Living White Hell Out There!

When I was at school, there was one particular girl, of the spoilt little bitch variety who took every opportunity to act out her irritation at any possible source of annoyance. It was bad enough that the window blinds would rattle whenever a breeze passed through them, but her tutting and cussing would make the situation so much worse. Her manifest indignation would transform any mild nuisance into an ordeal for us all.


I've thought of her today, as I've endured the carping of my fellow citizens in the face of our mild dusting of snow as I travelled successfully to work (it took ten minutes longer than usual to get there, five minutes longer than usual to get home), and then attempted to get work done in the open-plan office amid the moaning hoards. Yes, it's inconvenience to all of us, but please don't belabour me with your meteorologically-inflicted personal tragedy. Maybe if you forgot about waiting for a bus and starting walking to work you might lose some of that weight.

Once in every 18 years ain't bad as far as white-outs go, and actually nothing really shuts down, it just slows down and requires a little more resource. However, it appears that we now live in a society that believes that everyone is entitled to enjoy an uninterupted routine regardless of the weather, economic circumstance or traffic congestion.

Whatever happened to the spirit of adventure? The bulldog breed? Sir Edmund Hilary, Captain Scott and Mr Whippy?

Yes, that's me in the corner in the shorts and T-shirt. Making a point.

Sunday, February 01, 2009

Poole Pilot

Existentialist masterpiece from 1935, pre-dating Erasehead by forty years.

Well, I think that's what it is.