The Words That Maketh Murder

What If I Take My Problems To The United Nations?

Bontempi Pusher Exposed

Apparently, Hashim Thaci, Kosova's prime minister has been dealing in organs and drugs.

I think the authorities need to interview Keith Emerson!

Awayday to Avalon

Winter Wonderland Woe

Yes, it's a Stolen Snowman

Contains the quote:

"It ain't a nice road but you don't expect someone to nick your snowman."

Hygiene Warning

Forget Wikileaks: I can reveal that that new guy in HR, you know, the lanky streak of piss with the wayward hair, well, I can reveal that he was in the lavvy having a dump, and then came out and left WITHOUT WASHING HIS HANDS: Dirty Bastard!

Hopefully, I'll not be introduced to him, and will therefore avoid the embarrassment of refusing to shake hands.

And whilst I'm talking about Wikileaks: where does this leave the conspiracy theorists? Surely, the controlling state will have stopped this? Or is Wikileaks a hoax set up by the hegemony to make us believe that they are not omnipotent? Or did it never happen at all, like the moon landings?

Meet Your Local Sniffer Dog

Starbucks in St Pancras station has a neighbourhood board!

In the era of paranoia, I thought it was quite fitting that they're introducing us to the four-legged frontline in the war on terror.

Meet the gang:

Trampled Underfoot

In the wake of the student demonstrations against increased college fees, and the presence of (rather photogenic) schoolgirls in particular, the Metropolitan Police are concerned about the youngsters' well-being.

According to a strapline in a paper on the tube:

Met claim school kids' safety in danger from Demo

Err, actually, I think you'll find that they're more in danger from being baton-charged by police on horseback!

Cowboyds Anandians

Apparently, at some point in history, the organisation for which I work had dealings with the Association for Anandians.

No, I never heard of them either. Wikipedia informs me that they are the old boys of Ananda College , a buddhist school in Sri Lanka.

Et Alia, Wikipedia provides the following fact:

1891 November: C.C. Jayatissa, who was Anandian, was the first Sri Lankan to pass the Cambridge junior examination in the German language.


It also publishes the school song, which appears to have been written by Kurt Schwitters:


Anandai anandai anande ada anandai

Samma sambudu sugatha thatgatha sambudu pilimaya abiyasadee Kelesun Duruwee Athyugalesadee

Anandai anandai anande ada anandai

Silgath thani sudu nelum kusum lesa, pehedi, pibidi pirisindu wee Munidun namadimu ath yuga hisadee

Anandai Anandai Anande ada anandai


Now, if only I could have gone to a school like that.

Up North

Yes, after a gruelling weeks I get a weekend away in York.

It was like visiting an Alan Bennett theme park:

“We’re Europeans” I heard one lady exclaim “we’re just not designed for that kind of food!”.

The Prophylactic Pontiff

Now that the Bachelor of Rome has decided that it's OK for Catholic male prostitutes to use condoms, I was wondering if it's now OK for his Colombian constituents to continue using them to transport cocaine in the traditional fashion?

"Hey Baby, Can I Fill Your Tank?"

French parents had brought unnecessary embarassment to their daughters by going to to court to stop Renault calling their new runaround the Zoe.

They even went to the lengths to employ some sort of pervert to represent them.

Their lawyer:

argued that all of France's thousands of Zoes could be affected, with playground teasing and, as they grow older, comments in bars such as "Can I see your airbags?" or "Can I shine your bumper?"

Yeh, thanks a lot.

Renault won.

Borstal Boy Breakout!

I don't know what was happening on the other side of this door, and I don't WANT to know.

I can reassure my listeners that I moved on swiftly, and didn't look back!

Crime Latest

Looks like the Cat Burglar is moving up in the world. Persistently.

Eno & Dick Flash: Interview

The Dirty Old Man Cometh

My colleague has just returned from lunch, and as the lift was about to descend, found his progress stalled as an elderly man stopped the closing doors with his walking stick.

"I'm sorry," my colleague informed the octogenarian "but this lift is going down!".

"Don't worry son," quipped the aged lothario "I always go down first!"

What a guy!

Victor Sparkles Pop Quest: Chill Out With Mingus!

Did you know that children's favourite Pingu the Penguin was originally named Mingus?

Mingus the Penguin wore sunglasses and a pork pie hat, and inhabited a "cool pad" at the north pole, where he "hung out" with a picaresque collection of beatniks, misfits and loose women.

Unfortunately the name was dropped when the family of Jazz Trombonist Charley Mingus opposed the use of the brand.

In their objections, they cited Mingus the Penguin's substance abuse, bohemian lifestyle and indifference towards social propriety.

"Let's face it," commented a spokesman "the portrayal was a clichéd interpretation of the jazz scene, and a frankly disturbing misrepresentation of the natural world, presenting both environments as feckless, hedonistic and degenerate!"

After ranting for some time, the spokesman concluded: "actually, this isn't really anything to do with Charley's legacy. Let's face it, he's dead, and probably couldn't care less what this animal gets up to, but we feel that it's important to let the world know that penguins are a hard-working social species with little use for extravagant and hedonistic individualism. This show is nothing more than anthromophism gone mad!"

The dispute continued for some years until the project was quietly dropped, only to be rediscovered by younger, trendier, up-and-coming TV execs inspired by the opportunity to broadcast low cost programming with little need for be creative themselves.

However, by the time the penquin scripts reached the filming stage, "Pingu" had not only been renamed, but divested of his louch accoutrements and sanitized for the modern audience, with little more than an appetite for fish.

Pingu is said to be the late Margaret Thatcher's favourite television programme.

Pervy About Protective Clothing?

Then try Spain, where the prostitutes are now wearing hi-viz jackets !

It's the law: you want to work on the motorway, you have to wear compliant safety gear.

Fit for Purpose.

London Fire Brigade to Strike

Yes as the news breaks that the capital's fire-fighters are to strike on Bonfire Night, the ShoeBox has an exclusive interview with a man in a helmet:

"Actually, we're all a bit scared of Bonfire Night, on account of all those fires, and the added risk of all those fireworks, so we voted to avoid it this year. I personally don't like all that banging!"

He then added:

"Also, if we have to go out fighting fires, then we have to interrupt all the other jobs that we normally do to bring in further income whilst we're not really doing anything. You know, in the vast spaces of time between incidents, now that we live in an age where Health & Safety legislation has outlawed many of the traditional sources of ignition. And let's face it, there's only so many cats a man can rescue, without it looking suspicious!"

Then our spokesman yawned, pulled his blanket back up and resumed his afternoon knap at the switchboard.

If only Guy Fawkes knew what he started!

No Fun For Go-Go Go-Getters

As listeners will know, the ShoeBox loves nothing more than lawn-mowing in a mini-skirt and clogs, whilst blaspheming at the well-fed stray cats in the garden.

Well, if I was in Italy THAT WOULD BE A CRIME

"Centre Right" Mayor Luigi Bobbio, (yes, right out of central casting) of Castellammare di Stabia (no, I never heard of it either) seeks to ban miniskirts, sunbathing, playing football in public places, and blasphemy!

The BBC goes on to point out:

"In other places they have banned sandcastles, kissing in cars, feeding stray cats, wooden clogs and the use of lawn mowers at weekends."

There is no indication as to whether Mayor Bobbio is just a lonely misantrhopic Ogre who just hates the thought of other people having fun.

Editorial: Actually, to some extent the ShoeBox is with him on the miniskirt issue.
Naturally, I like to perv at the leggy young lovelies just as much as the next man, but there seems to be no quality control, and leggy loveliness is a finite commodity.

Have you seen the state of some of them out there?

I say, put the controls in at the point of sale.

A discerning gentleman could be employed at each boutique, to discriminate (and it IS discrimination) as to who gets to wear what.

He could also provide advice like: "I say, have you thought of modelling? I have my own photographic equipment you know, and I'd be willing to waive my fee", or "you've got a lot going for you, but come back when you've lost ten pounds!", to the frank, but necessary "sorry darling, but I think you'll find Mrs Ahmed down the market sells a burkah in your size that might spare us all the grief!"

But will they allow this? Of course not, it's political correctness gone mad!

Tales From The Riverbank

A detail from my weekend, which I don't feel the need to explain.