And finally for today, a nice cnutry pub for the Easter holidays

via GromBlog with thanks.

I must applaud the gesture made by Mr Abdul Latif, the Lord of Halpole, offering any member of the British forces (and his/her family) who has served in Iraq a free curry, for five years. Well done sir, but have you discussed this with your bank manager? I spent seven years in Her Majesty’s Royal Air Force where I met many people from all three services. I know that the British Armed Forces are the best in the world, bar none. They also have a world beating appetite for good (pause) curry, especially the free variety.

Good luck and well done Mr Latif.

If anyone needs the (pause) explaining, read your Kipling.

On this day in 1957, Archbishop Makarios returned to Greece after over a year in exile in the Seychelles. This is not very intersting to me but, when I was a boy, “Archbishop Makarios” was the holy grail of burp talking. Go on give it a go, try to say it whilst burping, you know you want to. Be careful not to throw up though. Go on!

Major success today, I’ve got me Barnet done.

Why do we British use different temparature scales for warm and cold? A couple of weeks ago it was -3 Degrees Centigrade but yesterday it was 80 Degrees Farenheit

Is it the beer or are ugly women getting prettier?

I’ll say it again. Southampton is shite. I tried without success to get a haircut (again) at lunchtime. The only two barbers/hairdressers within reach of my office had queues out of the door because all their staff were at lunch. They work from nine ‘til five with an hour for lunch just like me and thousands of other potential customers. I’ve ranted this one before. I could have bought a new mobile phone from one of the eight mobile phone shops within two hundred yards. I could have bought some low quality teeny bopper clothing from one of the twenty such shops within two hundred yards. I could have answered surveys with one of a million clipboard carrying name badge wearing twats within two hundred yards. I could have given to charity via one of the many Aussie backpackers who get twenty percent of the take within two hundred yards. I could have bought a skateboard or any measure of crap from one of the teapot, pine or Disney shops within two hundred yards. BUT I COULDN’T GET MY FEKING HAIR CUT. I’m not surprised that most of the locals look like they cut their own hair with a sharpened stone.

Went to the pub instead. I feel better now.

UPDATE: If you’re from Southampton and feel slighted by this don’t give me a hard time, go to hairdressing school, graduate, open a salon (at lunchtime) and get rich quick. Oh, and get rid of the track suit unless you’re going running. It’s not fashionable, it never has been and it never will be.

Southampton is shite. Discuss.

Time for a career change, I just spent an hour trying to get a ten line program to compile. When it finally compiled (yes Simon I got one to compile) it didn’t do what I wanted it to do, it did what I told it to do. There must be a bug in the operating system.

Here’s an opportunity to beat your personal best and raise money for chiridy.

The Teething Fairy (very Terry Pratchett) replaced my lovely son with a devil child this weekend. It looked exactly like Sam but acted like a bad tempered, bad tempered thing with a very bad temper. He was nice whilst he was asleep though.

There are a whole bunch of people in the office today eating creme eggs. Have a look at this, it’s no yoke!