All quiet on the blogger front...

...is it quiet out there today? Am I the only one not working at work this afternoon? Or did I upset everyone?

I know an old woman who swallowed a fork...

...well what a dork, to swallow a fork.
she swallowed the fork to catch the cockroach,
she swallowed the cockroach to catch the fly

all together now

and I don’t know why, she swallowed the fly,
perhaps she’ll die.

Tattoo your toddler; give your Grandma a nose ring

I’ve seen this a few times this week. It’s either a very clever spoof or the nanny state should ban it instead of fox hunting. Imagine the protest march. As for family friendly, I'd like to see them try to tattoo Sam, he fights like a tiger when you wash his face. I did see a good idea version of this at the Guildford Festival last weekend though. People had henna tattooed their mobile phone numbers on their children’s arms in case they wandered off. Sam had his own blue biro version, cheepskate parents.

Is everyone in Northern Ireland mad?

I don’t think so, but why the hell does anyone think that a 100 foot high, 70 foot wide bonfire made up of 500 tyres and 1,000 pallets is a good idea? If I wanted to do this on a housing estate, say in Huddersfield, what would be the reaction? It’s a social, political and environmental nightmare. If a company wanted to burn 500 tyres on a housing estate there would be a massive campaign against it, there would be demands for public enquiries, there would be cases brought in the European Court of Human Rights, Swampy would be camping in the middle of it ferchrissake! But this is, allegedly, to commemorate King Billy’s victory at the Battle of the Boyne in 1690, over 300 years ago. What it’s really there for is to fan the sectarian flames, to ensure that the people of Northern Ireland never escape from the senseless hatred that has blighted the place for ever. I don’t pretend to understand Northern Ireland but I do understand that this is wrong.

Ceremonial burning of "for Dummies" books for Dummies

I went out for a drink on Tuesday with an old mate who has just started working for Wileys publishers. He's in the computer department so it’s probably not his fault. I shall be ceremoniously burning my copy of Java for Dummies and Pregnancy for Dummies (both of which were crap anyway) in support of Destruction for Dummies.

Why do cows wear bells?

Because their horns don’t work... Bulls on the other hand have no such problems. I mentioned my running of the bulls at the festival of San Fermin in Pamplona, Northern Spain on Monday. Here are some gorey pictures. I might dust off my reeboks and bandana.

A poem by Sir Paul McCartney...

We lay upon the grassy bank, my hands were all a quiver,
I slowly undid her suspender belt and her leg fell in the river......

via email from Andy G

National helping Mummy day

Sam managed to take the lid off a can of white Satinwood paint this morning and poured it all over the living room floor. I don’t think that Cathy has seen the funny side of the incident yet.

National Stupid Day II

Due to the unexpected success of national stupid day a few weeks ago, they have decided to have another. This morning I saw, a lady driving along a busy A3 reading a CD case. Another lady almost careered off the road whilst putting on makeup instead of steering round a bend at 70mph. Another lady overtook me on the M3 whilst reading a map. A man in a convertible Mercedes was swerving left on the M3, into traffic joining the motorway, whilst indicating right and messing about with his mobile phone. And to finish off, a man was reading the racing post whilst driving in rush hour traffic in Southampton. C’mon, sort your priorities out ferchrissake; you’re going to kill someone you bunch of feking dickheads!

Stop it., you’ll go blind.

I feel that I must draw your attention to this top quality gag posted at BillyWorld.

...I went to the opticians today...he said I had to stop wanking...I asked why? is it ruining my eyesight?...no, he replied, it's just upsetting the other patients in the waiting room....

OOPs, I caught polymorphism on the train

Got the train to work this morning, oh, and polymorphism (I think).

Aaaaaw Cute!

In the car on Sunday heading towards the Guildford festival, a little pathetic voice from the back seat...

"Are we nearly there yet?".

Blogroll update

As a prize for probably, well maybe being my 3,000th visitor there's a new blogroll entry over there. Let's go visit the ZooStation.

Torro, torro, torro, cerveza, cerveza, cerveza

In Pamplona, northern Spain this week thousands of young bloods, feral Aussies, Kiwis and Sith Efrikans will be risking their lives and livers in the annual festival of San Fermin. Running the bulls and drinking like fishes to you and me. Many moons ago, way back in 1989, in a white shirt, wearing a red bandana I took part in this mad lunatic event, I ran the bulls twice and can still feel the adreneline buzz of legging it into a bull fight arena (leaving a footprint in the back of a fallen Spaniard) containing thousands of people with a fighting bull breathing down my neck. I’ve done some stupid things in my time, I’m pleased to say.

Howdy Pardner!

If, like me you are a Java greenhorn, if you are an experienced wrangler who wants to learn more, or if you are a Texas ranger who would like to share your knowledge, you could do yourself a favour by saddling up and moseying on over to the Java Ranch. There is something there for everyone with an interest in Java and/or the wild west. It’s fun too.

Yup!

Something for the weekend Sir?

Simon came over for the weekend. Not only is he a techno guru, fount of all knowledge and nice bloke, he makes fantastic children’s entertainer. He’s Sam’s new best friend.

On Saturday we drank beers in the garden, had a bit of a barbie, went to my local and talked techno-bollix for a few hours over several pints of fine London Pride.

Sunday found us at the Guildford festival, great family atmosphere, superb people watching, some mediocre music, some crap music (Jemini) and some little girls (Atomic Kitten) murdering a Blondie song. The Mavericks were good. We drank loads of lager, ate loads of crappy food, with the notable exception of the Jerked Chicken with rice and beans which was excellent and could make up a posting on its own. Simon upset the fake designer sunglasses stall holder by spilling beer (my beer) on his merchandise, the guy went a bit “Noel Galagher” on us. Cathy walked into one of those disgusting portaloos to find a couple in the middle of a BJ, how romantic, I love you.

Our friend Sarah spilled a pint of cider over her eleven week old daughter, which was nice. I suppose she may as well get used to it, everyone else Sarah comes into contact with ends up wearing a pint of cider eventually.

As for Sam, well it was his first festival and he danced and he ran and ran and ran and ran. He finally crashed out at nine thirty, I expect him to wake up around Thursday evening.

A good weekend.

Hit me.

Got my 3,000th hit over the weekend, thanks for dropping by.