Somalian Pirates. A brand that’s off course

You gotta feel for those guys. Lets start with the obvious aesthetics. Skinny guys, (and a lot of Somalians are) just don’t look good holding AK47’s. It is not a skinny man’s gun. The Mujahideen got away with it because they wear a lot of bulky clothing to fill out their figures. But those Somalians look kind of awkward. If I was in charge of styling them I’d suggest something like the Heckler & Koch HK MP5. Small and compact it makes the guy holding it look bigger than he is, and when you’re are centimeters above sea level in a fishing canoe with an outboard, trying to talk to a sailor 15 meters above you in a 500,000 ton oil tanker, you need all the presence you can muster .
But the Somalians have bigger problems that cut to the very essence of their brand and that’s the fact they call themselves pirates. The pirate brand that has been around for centuries and instantly conjures up images with the consumer. Thanks to Disney’s Pirates of the Caribbean series, the brand has had resurgence among youngsters and so often happens in conflicts around the globe, it is the children who are suffering in Somalia. Imagine a little kid in a Somalian school who proudly tells his classmates that his dad is a pirate. ‘Does he know Johnny Depp?’ would be one of the first questions. ‘What kind of hat does he wear? Does he let you hold his sword? Does his captain have an octopus for a face? Do you buy your lunch with pieces of gold that your mum gets out of a chest buried in the backyard?’ Sadly, the answers to all these questions is no. Then the kid pulls out a picture of a skinny guy struggling to hold a rusty old AK47. The class burst out laughing and the damage is done.
There is an obvious gap between the pirate brand as the consumer knows it and the Somalian version and if they are not careful the next generation of young Somalians will not want to take up their fathers sea faring profession. A few eye patches some skull and cross bone flags and a captain who looks like Geoffrey Rush aint gonna fix this problem. Somalian pirates need to sit down with a branding agency, probably a really flash one from London because they seem to be all the rage, and work out how to put their stamp on this famous brand. With the worldwide economic crisis growing it wont be long before the Somalian pirates are facing competition from other nations. Take the Japanese for example. You just know that if they decided to get into the pirating business they are going to do it right with all the cool gear. If the Somalians don’t act now their brand risks being sunk on the high seas.

A wee bit more

As well as installing the new bathroom I read that on the last mission to the space station they were testing the urine recycling plant.
How do you test a urine recycling plant?
sip sip – ‘Yuck’
sip sip – No, still tastes like piss
sip sip – Not quite so bad.
sip sip – Yeah, not great still a bit wee weeish
sip sip – Fuck it, that’s close enough.

The waste of space station

So I was reading about the latest trip to the space station. They went up to install a bathroom among other things. A bathroom… Must be hard to attach tap fitting wearing those chunky astronaut gloves. It got me thinking about project men start. “’Honey I’m going to redo the bathroom’
‘But Dan. You’re an astronaut. You don’t know anything about plumbing.’
‘How hard can it be Shirley? Your brother is a plumber. Besides, it’s a weekend project. I’ll just do a little bit at a time.’
And there in lies the problem. The job just goes on and on. And the tension in the house builds as Shirley points out that the weekend project has been going on for 2 years!
That’s why the space station is so perfect. It’s in space. Shirley and the rest of the planet cant see it.
Mission Control ‘Hey guys, how's that bathroom looking?’
Astronaut – ‘Oh yeah, pretty good Houston. Ah, we should have it done in a few more weekends.
Mission Control – ‘You guys know it costs about 15 million to get you up there for a weekend.’
(long pause)
Astronaut – Listen. Do you guys want this job done quick or properly?
Mission Control – Can we at least see a picture of how it is looking?
(long pause)
Astronaut – You know the picture in the catalogue? It’s going to look like that.
Mission Control – Going to?
Astronaut –YEAH. IN A FEW MORE WEEKENDS!

The mother of all prime numbers

Apparently some maths nerds just found a 13 billion digit prime number. Good timing. The US government will probably need that to calculate the cost of the war in Iraq in a year or so.
Lost Vegas hint - If you meet one of the maths nerd who made the discovery and he starts telling you the story about this new mega prime number, don't let him draw it for you.

What the deep fried banana said to the pineapple.

So me - a Kiwi slash Aussie is at a South American Restaurant in Abu Dhabi with some poms and a French chick and a Scottish bloke.
How fercken international is that? .. but that’s not what this dribble is about.
I wanna talk about fruit. Talking fruit. Well not actually talking. For the fruit to talk there would really have needed to be a vegetable in the mix… I’m thinking mushrooms. Small harmless looking ones boiled in a bit of water…
But I digress. Where was I?
Oh, that’s right talking fruit. Or, more accurately. What the fruit would have said if it could talk. Because we all know fruit can’t talk. Although, if there is anywhere in the world where they could afford to hire the scientists and linguists to devote the time and study to get fruit to talk, it’s here in Abu Dhabi. Richest city in the world don’t ya know. That’s why I’m here by the way. Whoring myself as an advertising slapper.
But I digress. Again. Sorry
So. We’re at this South American BarBQ restaurant where they bring you all this meat on big blades and if you want some they slice it off. Now it’s not only meat. There’s a salad bar and they bring you little bowls with your dose of carbs. Deep-fried polenta, hash browns… by the way, that’s weird eh. I always thought of hash browns as a breakfast food.
But it gets weirder. Also lurking in the bowl are these sections of banana. Deep-fried with a breadcrumb coating. Banana? With meat? What the hell?
I know. I was thinking that too. But it works.
So I got thinking about the concept of fruit with your main. The idea of promoting the food group from the back of the menu just before the special coffee. That’s when a guy turned up with a grilled pineapple on his giant blade and I realized that pineapple is a fruit that has always partied in the main section. Albeit as a partner to ham. So there you go, banana wasn’t the first, and that was comforting for the banana I thought, because you can imagine it out in the kitchen, lying there amongst the meat and veg. It’s a bit nervous, worrying about how it will be accepted by the punters. After all, it has only really ever featured in tandem with ice cream and cherries or on a platter with some of its relations and suddenly here it is. Going out with the first wave. Nice then that the pineapple is there to give some helpful words of encouragement. I imagine it would say something like, 'Don’t worry mate. They ‘re going to love you. I’ve been doing this since the 70’s. Cherries come with me sometimes, but to be honest I do most of the work. You’ll do fine kid. Just be the best banana you can be.’
What the pineapple is actually thinking is ‘Look at you with your breadcrumb covering for added appeal. I go out au natural. Just me. No dressing up. You’ve got props.’ But the pineapple wouldn’t say that. Not to the banana because he can see the little guy is shitting himself.

A kick in the arse for order.

As a society we need rules. It’s just how we’re programmed. Rules and order bring stability to our lives and help us function. From the beginning of time we have felt the urge to bring order to our lives. For example. Cave men built walls of small pebbles at the entrances of their caves to mark in and out paths. This was so the guys dragging women back home by their hair to satisfy another urge, wouldn’t bump into the men dragging the woolly mammoth bones out to the trailer to take to the tip on clean up day (usually a Thursday, because there were no weekends in prehistoric times, so they could do chores like going to the tip and mowing the lawns whenever they wanted. Not mowing lawns so much because there wasn't much grass and what grass there was got eaten by the Wooly Mammoths. That was a bonus, but the downside was the Wooly Mammoths shit all over the place and so while the cavemen didn't have to mow lawns they did spend a lot of time cleaning up huge plies of shit. After a couple of thousand years of this the cavemen decided they would rather mow lawns than spend hours up to their elbows in poo, so they hunted the Wooly Mammoths to extinction.)
In the modern world some of our urges have to be suppressed. For example, we don’t drag women around by the hair anymore. That urge has been tucked away in the 'inactive projects' section of our brain, but the need for order in all things is still as strong as ever. It permeates every facet of our lives which is why it will come as no surprise that I saw large ripples across the normally still waters of the pond of order the other day, when I spied this very unorthodox footwear.
Is it a shoe? A quick glance may seed that impression with you. But look again…yes, those sides are disturbingly open. There are small holes that allow a view of the toes (in this case the white sock from the owners ’25 pairs of socks for 50 cents’ pack is covering them)
So our natural conclusion is to class this as a sandal yes? But no. There’s way too much fake leather for this to be classed as a sandal. How much is too much? I've sent one of these... things... to the Sandal Affairs Directorate headquarters in Guam for precise measurement by a team of Norwegian scientists using lasers and one of those rulers with the slidey things on it. But even to the untrained eye (by untrained I mean an eye that hasn’t been in the head of a person that has attended the Sandal Affairs 5 year Sandal Identification course) it is clear that this item of footwear exceeds the amount of covering that enables it to exist under the classification of sandal.
My friend Raphael, who has very little going on in his life, took the time most people would spend having a life, to consider the monstrosity you see before you and he came up with name SCHWANDAL.
Not a shoe, not a sandal. A freak. An outcast destined to inhabit that desolate wasteland between the two official and approved types of footwear. This is the child playing in the minefield out in no mans land people. This is unacceptable. This brings chaos where there was order and it goes against everything our forefathers set in motion when those first rocks were arranged like little stony motorway lane barriers at the entrance to their caves.
Slip on a shoe, pull on a sandal, but there is no room in our modern civilized society for a SCHWANDAL. They must be stamped out. The owner of this particular pair got a beating, caveman style and then we burned his Schwandals on a ceremonial funeral pyre. He’ll thank us later and I am pretty sure he’s going to tell the police that he doesn’t want to go ahead and press charges.

Obama's running mate

Running mate. Sounds very olympian so what a good time to announce his choice. And smart move to go for the white old guy. Their theme song should be that paula abdul classic 'We come together because opposites attract.'
I gotta say, the guy looks the part.
personally I thought my idea to get the guy who invented survivor to create a show called 'Americas next vice president' and hosted by Donald Trump was the way to go. Maybe next time.

But I feel sorry for the other contenders who Obama was considering for the role who have gone home empty handed.

David Hasselhoff
Danny Devito
Tom Cruise's chef
Donald Trump's hair
The guy who liked the razoor so much he bought the company
Hulk Hogan
The incredible Hulk
Ben & Jerry
The keyboard player from Hootie and the blowfish
Gladys Knight
one of the pips
The hamburgler

All great candidates and Obama was at pains to explain to them all, individually, that it was a really close thing. He was especially careful when he spoke to the incredible hulk. You don't want to piss that guy off. No matter how many secret service agents you got watching your back.

Did they shave their legs on the Death Star?

I know this all happened along long time ago in a galaxy far away but why did the guys in the firing room on the Death Star wear helmets? Was there a concern that they might bump their heads on something? The Death Star was still being built. It was technically a construction zone I guess. But how come the Admiral of the fleet didn’t get to wear a helmet. Him and his mates had to wear naff looking cloth caps that made them look like play mobil characters.

Perhaps there’s another reason behind the big black helmets. They look very similar to the ones worn by Olympic indoor cyclists.

Could it be that the team in the firing room were sportsmen who worked on the death star part time, attracted by the flexible hours that allowed them to get out on the track? If so, this raises alarming questions about the standard of the people the dark side were hiring.
Mind you, I can see the thinking behind hiring cyclists. They shave their legs and that would have made slipping into the tight black pants that were standard Death Star Issue, a lot easier. But I wonder… when the little man on the left pushed the button that activated the beam that blew princess Leigh’s planet of Alderon to hell, was he thinking, ‘A thousand voices are about to cry out and then be suddenly silenced, and I’m the man.’ Or was he thinking about shaving a few seconds off his lap time at the velodrome, or, shaving his legs?

Pain in Spain but not on the train

Hola! The word invented by U2 for their 2004 song vertigo and now adopted by the people of Spain.

I’ve come to Spain to look at cool buildings and drink their beer but I’m never one to miss the chance for a new tattoo. Found Voodoo Tattoo in Barcelona. I’m not familiar with Spanish tattooing traditions but as you can see from the pic they wont do tattoos of dogs, cigarettes or hamburgers… that was a blow because I was going to get a tat of a smoking dog but it will have wait till we are in a country where they are a little more open minded.
Also spotted another old lady with crazy hair for my ‘Old ladies with crazy hair’ collection. Bonus!
Arrived Madrid yesterday. We came by bullet train. I love traveling by train because unlike planes, you don’t have to put up your tray table 10 minutes before you arrive, you don’t have to wear a seat belt and your electronic devices don’t affect the navigation equipment. A much cooler way to travel.
Madrid is famous for being home to the Beckhams and to remind you of that there is a 50ft statue of David Beckham in the centre of town made out of posh’s unsold solo albums and jeans.

Aunt Betty’s Hair

If a teenager dyes her hair violet, shes ‘goin off the rails’ 'rebelling against society’ ‘falling in with the wrong crowd’.
BUT.
If Aunty Betty does it, shes just still only dear old Aunty Betty who still like a Sherry and the odd fluter on the horses.

That’s ageist.

Box a soldiers

Found these guys for sale. Like you I was instantly reminded of the lyrics from the hit song by Martika

'Step by step, heart to heart, left right left, We all fall down like toy soldiers.'

They seem really cheap. But i think that's because they're dead.

In case things dont work out for Obama

Just a thought I wanted to get in before anyone else does. I think Obama will probably take out the election, unless the republicans have another voting machine trick up their sleeves.
BUT. If Obama misses out then the papers will need a headline to go with the day after the election. OR weeks after if it turns into a protracted legal battle.
I was thinking about this because I’m in London at the moment, home of the world’s best newspaper headlines. I’m talking magic like "Bananas in Pyjamas," that ran during the Michael Jackson trial.
Don’t know if there is any money in headline ideas for newspaper headlines but I humbly submit this little pearler.
O BUMMER 08

X & Z…not the album

I’m no fan of that 80’s shop naming habit of replacing the s with a z. Hairdressers were especially guilty of this branding crime. Wavez, Cutz, Snipz. It wasn’t jazzy or clever. It looked retarded. As did calling something fast like a food or photocopying shop, Xpress.
BUT. I have to say I will make an exception for ChopstiX in portabello.
Why?
Because with the use of clever graphic design, they incorporated a pair of chopsticks into their logo. Which totally justifies the use of the X in the name.
Hats off.
If there’s an international competition for Chinese Takeaway names, then I smell GOLD.

Samir Kuntar

Samir Kuntar, the Lebanese freedom fighter/terroist (depending on your point of view) who was jailed for 542 years at the age of16 has been freed by the Israelis. He went in in 79.
ABBA were still huge back then.
With the new Mamma Mia film in the headlines now as Samir comes out, I wonder if he thinks that ABBA is still huge and have been all this time. I think someone needs to explain to him that ABBA were hated during the 80’s and most of the 90’s. It would be embarrassing for us if he thinks we have been obsessed with them all this time.

Instruction book bollocks

You know that feeling when you buy something electronic and it comes with a really big, thick instruction book and you think ‘dam, I didn’t realise this glow in the dark X-Files themed toaster/fax machine was going to be so hard to learn to operate’ and then you open the book and it turns out there is only one page of instructions but it is translated into 85 other languages and that’s why it’s so thick…… I love that feeling.

Lets clear the air on the Beijing Olympics.

The old style Olympics was all well and good. Athletes from around the globe, at the top of their game, performing to the absolute limit of human ability for the enjoyment and wonderment of all.
But those wise Olympic bosses saw the writing on the wall, they realized that athletes and spectators needed something more. So the brains trust got to thinking. How could they up the odds?
The answer was blowing in the wind. Pollution.
Why not make things a little tougher for competitors. Sure, they can run, pedal paddle, lift, throw, shoot and jump. But can they do it while they breath in liters and liters of toxic air? Surely that would be the ultimate test of an athlete’s ability.
The IOC searched the world for just the right city. It needed the perfect blend of infrastructure and polluted atmosphere.
Many cities put up their hand but when it came down to the nitty gritty they failed to deliver on the really shitty, smoggy, toxic atmosphere the IOC was looking for.
Finally, Beijing made the grade. But only after promising to step up their pollution output ahead of the big games.
All credit to the city. They have surpassed expectations and the world can look forward to the new style Olympics. Not so much of a look, as more of a squinty peer through the murky haze.
And it wont just be the performances that are affected. The pollution will enhance the events in other ways.
The running races will have an added element of the unknown for spectators because they wont be able to see the whole track. Imagine the thrill sitting near the finish line. You can hear the running feet, but you have to wait till the last second for the competitors to emerge from the smog to see who is going to win.
In the cycling, the flash new smog lights fitted to the bikes will give us all a glimpse of the future of pedal power.
We’ve all seen laser light shows. But wait till you see the way lasers bounce off thick clouds of dark toxic factory smoke in the opening ceremony. The site of thousands of spectators and competitors crammed into the stadium, all wearing their communist red gas masks will be a proud moment for all the citizens of the planet. If I could sum up these games in one word. It would be SMOKIN!

The bags behind global warming.

It‘s a worrying new trend that is threatening our very existence. Big chunky gold and silver handbags that look like they are made out of leftover NASA space suit material.
Not only is the trend growing, so are the size of the handbags.
Why are these bags so much bigger now? Do ladies suddenly have a lot more stuff to carry around?
Do you want to know why Al Gore will never be seen carrying one of these? Their reflective power.
Scientists have discovered that the combination of a huge number of bags and their large, reflective surface area, means they’re directly contributing to global warming.
Before the collective gasp of distressed fashion victims reverberates round our hot little planet, I am not advocating the banning of these bags.
There’s a simple solution.
Scientists have invented a special, matt varnish spray that can be applied to the bags to reduce the shine and glare.
Children, armed with cans of this earth saving spray will be sent out around the malls of the world to offer this service free of charge. These children will be pulled from sweat shops across Asia and will naturally be thrilled to be out from behind their sewing machines so it’s a win win.

Hummer Love

It’s is the classic expat cliché. Come to the Middle East and buy a Hummer. Hummer, famous for having the most expensive launch event ever. That would be Gulf War 1. The mother of all car launches. Anyway, 17 years on the hummer aint the new kid on the block anymore. It was cool to have a hummer here in the UAE a couple of years ago, but the cashed up car nuts who change their cars like their undies have moved on. The new Rover is the in thing this month.

What about our carbon footprint you ask? Well with a Hummer it is more of an army issue desert boot print, but my theory is, if all this fighting and stress over the price of oil wasn’t around, we would all be better off. How do we sort that out? Get rid of the oil. Use it up. Fast. And my friends, doing 160 k’s between Abu Dhabi and Dubai is a good way to use it up.

The Hummer is big. I’ve never had an SUV, never really wanted one, but now I have had a taste of it, it would be hard to go back. Before we got the Hummer we were renting a VW polo. I have filled that with pine scented dishwashing liquid and hung it form the hummers rear view mirror.
The Hummer is high off the ground.
It’s a climb to get in, but once you’re there it’s worth it. Kind of like getting to the top of Everest. The Hummer is so high off the ground that at Hummer dealerships, one of the optional extras is a midget lady who lives in the spare tyre compartment and comes round offering you a choice of chicken or fish on long trips.
Judder bars are a thing of the past. When you’re in a car that was designed to be able to drive over small desert villages without stopping, a judder bar is just a joke.

We got the H3. It’s totally different to the H1 and 2. Each model that comes out seems to have a little more of the sharp edges taken off. It’s sad how that happens. The Hummer caught the imagination of the nation because it looked different to all the pussy cars we were used to seeing. It wasn’t smooth and curvy, it was boxy with sharp corners and low to the ground. Arnie wanted one. And back in 91 he was still kind of cool, in a larger than life Hollywood way. But the H3 is a shadow of its early days. Looks to me like the result of endless focus groups and research meetings that have tried to pander to the soccer mum crowd. Bit of chrome here, smooth those front corners, put some pretty taillights on it. Any more tweaks and they might as well slap a Hyundai logo on its arse.
The H4 will probably suck and buy the time it comes out Arnie will be the only guy rich enough to fill it with gas, so we are living the dream now.
The wife likes to keep it clean, but I think a Hummer looks better dirty. It also makes it look like I have been off roading.
The pressure about getting a big 4x4 like a hummer is everyone says ‘have you taken it off road yet?’ and when you say no, they give you that slightly disappointed look. I parked outside a restaurant the other day and road works were going on out front so I had to drive up on the curb to park… does that count? … Not really eh.

All you need is love

How can the world take a leader seriously when he dresses like he is going to a sergeant peppers lonely hearts club fancy dress party?

Oh, that's right. No one does.

Why polar bears cant retire.

Another story in the paper today about the disappearing ice at the North pole. But last week there was a story that they found ice on Mars, so doesn’t that kind of cancel things out. The universe giveeth and the universe taketh away type thing.
The only thing that bums me out about the ice disappearing is the poor old polar bears. If you were a typical polar bear couple and you bought a little section of ice in the 70’s, its melted away to fuck all now. There goes the retirement nest egg.
There was a polar bear at Auckland zoo in the 80’s who started turning green. It wasn’t the lack of ice I don’t think. They painted the concrete white to make it look like ice and the polar bear probably really liked that. Ice without the chill. When he told his mates back home they probably thought he was tripping and his green fur would have confirmed that for them. I think the green was caused by a fungal infection but maybe he was from mars. They have ice there.
They also found out that the soil on mars is perfect for growing asparagus. So guys, if you are in the loo and you see a little green man he might be a human in fancy dress. But if his wee wee is really smelly, then there is a good chance he’s a martian.

Plasma penis

It’s all about the inches isn’t it? For penises and TV’s.
We just went up to a 42 at home and I have to say the wife and I are both loving the extra width.
It’s funny when you think about it. With electronics it is all about making things smaller. Ipods, cameras, phones. Except for tv’s. When it comes to them, bigger is better. More inches. Sure, the side profile is shrinking faster than George W’s credibility, but the screens are blowin up!
I guess technology means tv’s will keep getting bigger and bigger. Like the hole in the ozone. Or the gap between rich and poor.
When it comes to penises it is a different story. At some point the penises enlargement regulatory body has to say enough! If they don’t, someone is going to get hurt.
I get a lot of spam about penis enlargements ‘add extra inches’ etc, and I was thinking this is something the TV industry should look into. The concept of adding extra inches to your existing screen is a cool idea. Don’t know how they would do it, but I bet there is a scientist in korea who knows.
If I got spam about that, I’d click the button to find out more.
Those are inches I can use.

Training for the comeback

We are all consumers in god's eyes

Evil Mo

This is from a new book of stupid drawings I am working on to follow up the highly crafted stickmen series

GpS love

I am spending time with another woman. But only in the car and my wife knows. In fact, the three of us hang out together sometimes. She ‘s a bit older than us. In her 40’s. But this is a lady who knows where she’s going.

‘In One point five kilometers turn left’
‘In One kilometer turn left’
‘In two hundred meters turn left’
‘Turn left.’

And if I don’t turn left? If I just keep going. Do I hear…..
‘I said LEFT you DICK HEAD. Why don’t you listen to me’

No I don’t.
Instead, there is a short pause and then, in a calm, relaxing voice, she says one word …..

‘Recalculating’.

It’s a great way to live. It’s changed my life. I am secretly hoping my wife picks up on the idea round the house.

‘Honey put out the rubbish in the next hour ’
‘Honey put out the rubbish in the next half hour ’
‘Honey put out the rubbish in the next fifteen minutes’
‘Honey put out the rubbish.’

`Recalculating………Honey put out the rubbish in the next two days.’


Maybe when she is fully used to life with GpS, I can use the style when I am at the pub and have to text her.

‘Hi babe, at the pub home in one hour
‘Hi babe, at the pub home in half an hour
‘Hi babe, at the pub home in fifteen minutes
Recalculating…….
‘Hi babe, at the pub home in one hour

I love my GpS and I am committed to it, but I couldn’t help noticing when I went of ride in a friends BMW X5 the other day that his GpS lady sounds younger and sexier than mine. I think it might be my GpS ladies hotter younger sister.
I bought mine off the shelf, his came installed. Maybe that’s why. It did get me thinking about the fact that there might be something better out there. I’m not saying I am going to cheat on my GpS, but the fact is, men are shallow like that and the GpS makers know it.

Burning Obama

In certain parts of the world they love burning effigies. India is one place in particular and Pakistan. When you consider those countries mutual love of cricket and effigy burning, you wonder why they don’t get on better.
As Obama looms as a likely contender for the next president, I wonder if the professional effigy burners have started practicing creating his likeness. A little too early you think? Well no. Effigy burners take their craft very seriously. They are probably working on a John Mc Cain and an Obama. Different coloured paper of course and McCain’s chubby cheeks mean they will use a bit more on his head, but these are the things that serious effigy builders have to think about.
There must have been a sigh of relief when Hillary dropped out of the race. The suits that they put on the Obama or McCain effigies will be the left over George W ones, but if Hillary had taken over as boss of the world super power, then the poor old effigy designers would have had to go out and invest in a whole lot of ladies suit pants. And that would have been costly.
Speaking of Pakistan, I see the lawyers have been protesting again.
Think about street protests. You are normally lookin at hundreds of feral hippie types with long hair, Mohawks and pierced noses. The two oddest street protests I’ve ever seen are the suited up lawyers in Pakistan and the Buddhist monks in Myanmar. Rioting monks? It just doesn’t make sense, but at least those robes would allow you to throw your rocks and shake your fists. I don’t know if a suit is the right thing to wear to a protest, but I’ll tell you who’s cleaning up, literally. Pakistani dry cleaners. Because no lawyer, even a protesting Pakistani one, is going to turn up to court in a smelly suit.

Love me blog? Get the book.

Imagine if you could take all the best bits of a year of my brain dribble and cram it into a small handy to carry around collection of pages.
But wait! there's more...
Actually, there isnt. that's it.
I made a book of my fav bloggy bits from the last year and wacked them in a book.
If you click on the little button on the right you can go check it out.
To be honest it aint really a bragin at 23 US plus shipping, but i had fun puttting it together.
So there ya go.

Beirut’s Hall of Fame and the wanking president.

Up in the hills behind Beirut is one of Lebanon’s best-kept tourist attraction secrets. The Hall of Fame. A house full of life like silicon dummies. Well, they’re not all dummies. Albert Einstein is there, and the pope. He was freaky, either his head was a little small of his hands were a little big. The joint is fricken hilarious. Little sensors trigger some of them off and they talk or sing to you over the sound of the little motors that drive the body movements. The late Yasser Arafat is there. I thought he was broken, he wasn’t talking but his lips were vibrating.
‘Mechanical error?’ I enquired. ‘
Oh no explained our guide. As you know he had Parkinson’s before he died’…. Fair enough.
Leonardo Da Vinchi looked cool, although the Mexican blanket he was wearing seemed a little odd, but my favorite men were all together. Saddam Hussein and right next to him George W and Bill. George didn’t talk but check out the video footage. He has shifty little eyes like the baddie from Thunder Birds. An accident? I think not. And Bill was brilliant. He was delivering the 'I did not have sexual relations with that woman,' speech over and over and it was combined with some interesting hand movements. An accident? Not from a team that recreated the quivering lips of someone with Parkinson’s.

Church merch

Holy water, they should bottle this stuff… hang on, they do. When I found it in the church shop I wished I had come in dressed as a vampire, but I guess they see that gag played out all the time. I spilt someone my wife to see if the stuff was for real. It didn’t make he skin burn so I think the stuff could be fake.
The Catholic Church is right into its merchandise; I haven’t seen this much stuff for sale since I went to a Rolling Stones concert. I also got a cool little bracelet. Funny thing is it looks very similar to the Hezbollah bracelet I bought the day before. Almost looks like they come from the same factory. Now that’s an interesting though isn’t it?

Shootin in Beirut. But not bullets

I’ve been in Beirut for a few days now and I got to say, it is a cool town. The town that wouldn’t die they called it on account of all the fighting that has gone on here over the years. Every third building looks like it has a bad case of acne, but it’s not. They’re bullet holes. A plasterer could make a lot of money here touching up buildings. Or maybe not. Perhaps no one bothers because they know their walls will only get pocked again. I hope not.
If Beirut were a person it would be the really friendly cool guy or girl that everyone likes, but who has had a long run of real bad luck but who everyone hopes is going to be able to get back on his or her feet.
Like a lot of Middle Eastern towns this city looks like it could do with a good clean and a new coat of paint, but if they painted it now it would probably be camouflage. The army is all over the place, manning roadblocks and generally looking really bored. That’s on account of the recent troubles with Hezbollah and the fact they have a new president. Dangerous job, being president of Lebanon. 6 days one of them lasted before he was assassinated.
I was surprised to see tanks and armored vehicles parked round the city, but after being on the roads for a while you see why. Nothing quite says ‘get the hell out of my way like a tank appearing in your rear view mirror. There are way too many cars in Beirut and nowhere to park, but if you’re in a tank, you can park anywhere, on anything.
Apart from the cool people, cool bars, great food, amazing weather, great shops and general cool vibe, you know what I really like about this place? Everywhere you go you see little plastic chairs outside on the footpath. Sometimes there’s just one, but usually there are two or three. And men sit in them from early in the morning, till late late at night and they sit and watch the world go by and shoot the shit. Which is probably something they couldn’t do back when there was real shooting go on.
If you’re wondering about the photo of the tank, I wasn’t trying to be arty. They army get funny about you taking pics of them and they have guns so I didn’t want to argue. I think they also have maps because they were really helpful when it came to giving you directions.

So long you old bag

Goodbye plastic shopping bag. Yes, you’ve been helping to pollute our environment, you use our natural resources and consume energy in your creation and yes, you fill the land fills and clog our waterways with your bad impersonation of a really really big condom.
But I choose to remember the goodtimes. Your usefulness. Oh how you were welcomed with open arms in the late 70’s and early 80’s. The look of the future. A giant technological leap forward in the transportation of grocery items. You were stronger, lighter and more efficient. As the CD was to vinyl, you were to the old brown paper bag. As I plonked you down in between the microwave and the kitchen whiz, I could feel the winds of change on that formica bench top.
Mum loved you. She used to roll you up into little balls and put you in a draw beside the kitchen sink, When I needed something to collect dead crabs in, I turned to you. Sure I couldn’t put you over my head, cut out holes and make a mask, like I had with the old paper shopping bags. But I ‘d grown out of that shit anyway. You were water proof and for a kid, that is a useful product benefit.
You got involved in charity work. When mum had old clothes to give to the Salvation Army, you were there to hold them. When we needed something to hold all the newspapers for recycling. You were there. How ironic.
But it wasn’t all one big joy ride home from the super market in the back of mum’s Honda civic was it?
Throughout the 80’s and on toward the end of the millennium, there was one fraternity that steadfastly refused to acknowledge you. You never got the respect you deserved from the TV and movie industry did you? Despite all your hard work, those arty film types acted like you had never been invented. Time after time the props department would whip up an old brown paper bag for the scene where groceries were being carried. Why? Who really knows. Some say the clean straight lines of the paper bag were more ascetically pleasing. I know it hurt you and now your time is over.
The very people you served so well for all these years are turning against you. You and your kind are being run out of town. You’ve become the ABBA of bags. Loved intensely, then tossed aside in embarrassment with claims that you were never really liked that much anyway. I know it hurts you; this is a pain you will take to your grave and mull over during the decades it will take for you to break down.
If there is one consolation for you, it’s that inner city dog lovers will have to find something else to pick up dog with.

It isn’t Iran that has wiped Israel off the face of the earth. It’s Ikea

Maybe the pen really is mightier than the sword.
Check out this is giant map of the world I found on sale at Ikea in Abu Dhabi.
Now take a close look at the in-house modifications they’ve made. With a flick of the wrist, Israel has been removed.

Bouncy Castle Bollocks

It’s hard being a parent. As well as remembering to feed them and check on them when you leave them locked in the car out in the pub car park, you have to find things to do with them at the weekends.
Time waster of choice in our house at the moment is the bouncy castle, and the sprog and I fit in some bounce time most weekends. But here’s the thing. It isn’t a bouncy castle; it’s a bouncy teapot. Whoever heard of a bouncy teapot? No one. That’s why we all still call it a bouncy castle. Luckily Frankie hasn’t asked me why we refer to it as a bouncy castle, but what if she does? That’s something they haven’t covered on Doctor Phil or Oprah. And it does beg the question why someone felt compelled to bother creating another bouncy object when the castle has served the children of the world so well.
Was it an entrepreneurial bouncy castle employee who spied a niche in the market? Did he talk to some kids and find out that while the castle and its princess and dragon connotations were all well and good, what they really fantasized about bouncing inside, was a teapot? Did he take this idea to his boss in the form of a power point presentation? Was he laughed out of the bouncy boardroom? Or bounced out??? Did that propel him to go out and form his own bouncy business. Is he the apple to Microsoft in the bouncy shit for children to play on world? Just seems like a waste of time. Especially when there are so many untapped opportunities in the bouncy castle world. For example, why not build houses the way they make bouncy castles? In earthquake prone places, like china, you wouldn’t get horrific body counts. The buildings would wobble around, which would be fun for the kids, and then it would be all over. In a hurricane the houses wouldn’t blow over and debris wouldn’t blow around and hurt people. The houses would just blow away. Come home drunk to a bouncy house and it doesn’t matter is you fall over on the stairs. Drive home drunk and run into the side of your house and you just bouncy off. Next morning when the wife throws the toaster at you that will hurt like hell, but when you hit the floor unconscious, you don’t end up with secondary injuries.
I guess what I am getting at is the bouncy castle industry needs to stop jumping around and have a good think about what they already have. There is so much unexplored potential with the castles; I just don’t see the need to go off designing teapots.

Instruction book bollocks

You know that feeling when you buy something electronic and it comes with a really big, thick instruction book and you think ‘shit, I didn’t realise this half toaster half fax machine was going to be so hard to earn to operate’ and then you open the book and it turns out there is only one page of instructions but it is translated into 85 other languages and that’s why it’s so thick…… I love that feeling. I wish you could get that in a pill (legally) or a drink.

Love pub quiz? The answer is yes!

I think the pub quiz was thought up a couple of weeks after the pub was invented. Brendon* noticed that the crowd seemed to drop off Mon, Tue and realized he needed a way to get the punters in.
The guy was clever. He didn’t need a bunch of focus groups to work out that the big problem for a lot of people was that it was tough trying to justify to themselves or loved ones, that they should get on the piss, right after a weekend of doing just that.
The answer? Make it a little more like work than a night at the pub.
Instead of, ‘Honey, thought I might go for a few beers with the boys tonight.’ It was transformed into. ‘Babe, gotta go to pub quiz tonight. The boys really need me. I’m the go to guy for music trivia. Can’t let them down. One more win and we are in the draw for the electric powered weed trimmer.’
Genius. Not a night at the pub, a night of intellectual stimulation… in a pub.
And because Brendon was so smart he probably wrote all the questions for the first quiz himself.

*someone told me the guy who invented the pub was called Brendon. But we were at the pub at the time and they were drunk, so it could be bollocks.

Tears of progress

V1 – Does that hurt?

V2 – Yes.

V1 – Does that hurt?

V2 – Yes.

V1 – Does that hurt?

V2 – Owww! Yes.

V1 – Does that hurt?

V2 - Yes

V1 – Does that hurt?

V2 – Yes.

Taken from the tests for Johnson & Johnson’s No more tears, kids shampoo.

Stickmen – the ones they tried to ban.

As you may or may not know I’m the artistic genius behind the stickmen series of books. Stickmen 1, 2, Stickmen Guide to life and the soon to be released Stickmen Bumper Edition. Anyway, not all of my great drawings make it into the books for one reason or another, so I thought I might share a few with you on me blog. Here are two. One was a bit rude the other was a bit cerebral I guess.
Stay tuned for Oprah, posh Sice, JFK and many more.

Dude looks like a lady

‘Ronaldo under probe’ that was the headline in the paper when one of the world’s most famous footballers was busted after going to a motel with 3 transvestites. I think the first hint he had that they were lady men, was when he caught sight of one of their ‘probes’. No this wasn’t an Eddy Murphy situation, where the boy knew what he was buying. It is a great ad for the Brazilian transvestite community. A better class of tranny. Hats off. But even if they had been real ladies, wasn’t it a bit greedy of Ronny to take 3 back to his room? Isn’t that biting off more than you can chew or are football layers allowed to bring on a substitute in bed if they get a bit knackered?
Lucky for Ronaldo, he didn’t end up chewing on anything. But with the story all over the world’s newspapers his ego must be fairly limp this morning.

Ikea push a better body image

I was pleased to see the assembly plans for the shelf I bought from Ikea the other day had fuller figured stick figures in them, rather than a uber skinny ones we see so often (in my 3 stickmen books for instance) Look at these happy chubsters, ok so they have no fingers and they're building a shelf in the nude, but hats off to Ikea for breaking away from the furniture assembly industry stereo types. I'm going to eat another another pie and put a desk together.

Big Penis Problems

I get like an email a week from my mum saying hi, but I get 30 asking if I want a bigger Penis. I don’t. I have never really thought it was a Problem but can 25 million sPam messages be wrong? Maybe I should get it enlarged, or engorged or lengthened or whatever it is they do to it.
If I did, if I have a few more inches wacked on, I wonder if the sperm spam would stop? If someone with a really large Penis had it made bigger wouldn’t that be dangerous? I wonder if the Society of Penis Enlargment ExPerts has a code of conduct. Some kind of database where customers can be listed so they stoP receiving the spam. Infact, that could be a good angle for the Penis enlargement spammers. ‘Get your Penis enlarged and we will stop spamming ya. Mind you, if there was a database of blokes who had had the treatment we’d all be on there sneaking a Peak wouldn’t we…. ‘Oh look at that Paul had a couple of inches. He needed it.’
If you’re wondering about the capital P’s in this entry it is because my P key on me keyboard is broken so I copied a P and am just Pasting it in as a type, should have used a lower case P I guess but didn’t realise till I was half way through this. I tell ya, not having a P key is a Pain in the arse. Its not till you don’t have it that you realise how often you use the letter P. Should have saved this blog about Penises till after my keyboard was fixed I guess

Pope on a rope

I thought I invented Pope on a rope, about 8 years ago. Got really excited for about 3 minutes till I saw one on the internet. Still think it is a great idea and I thought of it the other day when I saw a story on CNN about the Pope in the US and all the souvenirs they are selling.
The scary pope, as I call him, is going around America saying sorry for all the kiddy fiddlers they employed for years and years, this is the sorry tour, the cleansing tour…get where I am going with this? Pope on a rope is fricken perfect. “Wash yourself as we wash away the sins of the Catholic church.” (holywater not required)
But doesn’t the Pope look scary. Especially when he speak in German. I try to imagine him in an SS uniform, and its not hard.
I bet Robbie Williams is pissed off with the Pope. He tried to crack the US over and over and never had much luck. The Pope goes there once and the place blows up.
I wonder if the Popes tour has groupies? I wonder if they break into the hotel and try to see the Pope, maybe try for a one on one mass with him. Mind you, I guess it wouldn’t be a mass then would it. It would be a mini.
I wonder if the Pope and his entourage ever trash their hotel rooms after a big gig? Do they get to stay in hotels? Local clergy probably offer to put them up. Bet the Pope hates that. He lives in the fricken Vatican. He has his own city. It would suck staying with some vicar in a little house tacked onto a church.
The Pope has a lot of costumes, almost as many as Elton John takes on tour. It would be hard being in charge of all that gear. You see the Pope in his bullet proof Pope mobile, you don’t see the fleet of big trucks that lug all the gear around from gig to gig and the roadies that work through the night. A Pope Tour 08 roadie jacket. Now that is a souvenir I’d pay big bucks for.

How to make new old. A woman’s quarantine magic

This is how it works. Your missus goes out and buys a ‘how much did that cost?’ item. One of those dinnertime conversation stoppers, like a new pair of shoes, or a handbag. She brings it home and spirits it away to the special quarantine area, which normally seems to be somewhere dark and out of the way, that the man in her life doesn’t go, like the bottom of the wardrobe on her side under some old boxes.
The quarantine period depends on the cost of the item. In my house it seems to work out roughly about $100 a week. So, 3 weeks later Kirsty walks into the lounge wearing her $300 and something dollar pair of shoes.
Naturally my highly trained man sensors, immediately detect the new credit card draining purchase. ‘When did you get those?’ I ask.
‘These? Oh, I’ve had them for aaaages.’
And, thanks to the quarantine period, she’s right.



Update - ~Kirsty just told me it is more like $1000 a week, not $100
Ahhhhhhh

Small pox / small cocks.

Polio, Leprosy, small pox, these are some of the dirty little diseases people have worked towards stamping out. Eradicating them from the planet entirely. Well I propose we add small cocks to the list. If the spam I get is anything to go by then there are hundreds of thousands of people out there prepared to help you increase the size of your schlong. This could be because of the crappy spam filter that Yahoo Xtra supply me with, but I am guessing most of you get a few of these emails right?
So we know the technology is there and we know there is lots of it. So there is no reason we cant cure every small cock right now. Today… well by next week anyway. Small peckers would be a thing of the past. Banished to the annals of history… (is annals the right word?)
I would even go so far as to say that if you gave a guy who had small pox or leprosy and a small cock and the option of a cure for one, he would go for wonder willy treatment over a solution for the scabs and coughing blood.
Lets work together to rid the world of small cocks. Lets set a realistic date of 2010 to get rid of the last tiny todger. But it is going to require all of us pulling together. Next time you get spam about penis size, don’t delete it. Forward it to someone who can use the info. I am going to contact Bono about putting on a concert to raise money to set up a mobile penis enlargement surgery unit that will travel the world adding girth and length to those people in places that don’t have access to email spam. Remember Live 8? I am proposing Live 18 inches. Details coming soon.

Picking scabs. The Adult alternative.

That was one of the 12 cool things about being a kid. Scabs and the chance to pick them. The hole in your thigh, gouged out by a branch as you fell out of a tree, hurt like hell, but as the pain faded to a dull throb, there was the impending anticipation of the scab that would form. ‘Don’t pick it’ mum would say when she wandered past and caught you bent over, digging away with you index finger ‘ it will take longer to heal. Exactly. Why let your little crusty scab dry up and flake off? Where was the fun in that? Scab picking was a fine art. A lot like knowing when to harvest the grapes for a fine wine i imagine. If you picked too soon the pain was too much and it wouldn’t come away. If you left it too late, the sucker would have healed too much. If you got it just right, you could have all the fun and excitement of performing surgery on yourself and know that you could let it scab over and do it all again in a few days.
As you grow up you get less scabs. Maybe you get better at not falling over and hurting yourself. Maybe you just climb less trees and jungle gyms.
But there is an adult version.
You know when you by a new piece of electronic equipment. Stereo, clock, phone etc. And there’s that thin plastic film they put over the screen or casing to protect it? Peeling that off is the adult made equivalent, of scab picking.
Don’t you hate it when you see someone who has bought something, like a clock, stereo, phone etc and left the piece of plastic on? Why? So it can protect the screen? How can someone live with that piece of film in their life and NOT PEEL IT? Whenever I see one, and usually it is on someone’s phone, I whip it off. Stuff em. They had a chance to enjoy it themselves, but they forfeited that right when they owned the device for more than 5 minutes without peeling that sucker off.
One of the greatest feelings in the world is when you realise that there is plastic film on something that you hadn’t spotted before. This is usually on the casing of an electronic device. The casing is often black and you simply haven’t spotted the protective film. After a while it starts to peel, ever so slightly, at the edges. You spot it and think… could it be? You pick a bit, just a tiny bit, to see if you are onto something. It comes away under your nail and eureka; you know you’ve hit pay dirt. Oh the fun as you peel that large piece of sticky clear film off. Pure joy.

Farewell Fast Food Legend

2 years ago it was the inventor of instant noodles, now another great name in fast food has left the building.
Herb Peterson, inventor of the Egg McMuffin, mc died at age 89 on Tuesday.
I’ll be honest I wasn’t a huge fan of the item, but you have to admire the man for coming up with an idea that was able to hold its own on a menu where burgers and fries rule the roost.
The humble Egg Mc Muffin entered this world in 1972, around breakfast time I’m guessing, and for millions of customers around the globe it has helped take the edge of Mickey D’s average coffee.
Herb, your small, palm of the hand sized breakfast snack will live on as testament to the genius of getting people to go to a burger shop first thing in the morning.

In honour of Herb, I’m going to buy an egg mc muffin tomorrow, burn it and scatter the ashes over some obese people as they leave McDonalds.

And McDonalds, could I suggest a commemorative ‘Herb Egg Mc Muffin’ for a limited time?

P.S – Apple. How come Egg Mc Muffin isn’t on spell check? It should be.

Eurover.

The weak US dollar is changing the way people do business in the states. Recently a Rapper asked to be paid in Euros. The mighty greenback in on the wane. My advice to Fiddy cent. Get with times bro. Change your name to .322 Euros before you lose any more value.

A plague of bollocks

So there is a plague of locusts in Al Ain in the UAE. It was in the paper yesterday. The Government is warning people not to eat them because of the pesticides. Apparently they are yummy when they are roasted, which makes them popular. Flying finger food delivered direct to your door.
Must be hard being a locust, the first thing everyone thinks is ‘Oh, I bet god sent them’. No one ever gives locusts credit for going somewhere because a shit load of them just feel like it.
And spare a thought for poor old Larry or Louis Locust. No one ever sees them as individuals. They’re just part of this big flying mass of mouths. And no one would want to be one of the poor suckers at the back. When you get to a field, thousands have already munched out. Everything has little locust bite marks all over it. But you can’t go off and eat somewhere else. Oh no. Because then you wont be part of the plague. No, you have to stay in the group. ‘It’s a great way to see the world’ your parents tell you. That’s fine, if you’re flying on the outside of the plague. But not many locusts get to do that. Most locusts just see lots of other locusts. Above them, below them, left and right. Stay tight, stay in formation they are always being told. Got to keep up appearances. Got to look plaguey.

Cows in Spaaaaaaaace, and sheep.

Scientists have found methane on a planet circling a sun like star. Cows and sheep generate methane… imagine if our first contact with life on another planet, turns out to be livestock? Maybe it is like Planet of the Apes but the Sheep and Cows rule. Maybe there is conflict going on between the two species as they fight for supremacy. Cows would make better commandos because they could survive my drinking their own milk when they were out secret mission. I think on Sheep Cow Planet, the Cows would be like the gorillas in Planet of the apes. They are the leaders, and the sheep…well they’re just sheep eh. They follow each other round and bleat about everything.
But. They live in the colder parts of the planet thanks to their wool, and maybe that’s where the oil is, so that gives them some power.
Wait till they meet us. There’s going to be an embarrassing moment when we have to explain that on our planet, we eat them. Maybe the first astronauts we send up there, should be vegetarians, otherwise, instead of we come in peace it would be more like ‘We come for your pieces… loins, kidneys, steaks, chops.. whatever, it’s all good.’
At least Charlton Heston could look those apes in the eye and say he’d never eaten one… laughed at a few, sure, but could we take the leader of another planet seriously when were staring at his overly full udder and wishing we had a glass or thinking how the wool on the back of the ambassador would make a nice jumper.
Maybe this is one planet we should steer clear of.

Cheap rip offs.

The planet is full of rip off designer hand bags, watches and perfume and recently, they busted a ring in Italy making rip off Ferraris.
But why stop there? China should make rip off cities. Imagine a New York or London, built somewhere in China, that tourists on a budget could visit.
There would probably be a few legal issues to get around. They might not be able to use the same names. New York City could be Newer York City. London could be Londone better, but if they built them all next to each other, you could travel between the world’s most famous cities on foot. Breakfast in Man & ladyhattan, the couple friendly city and a warm beer and a curry at the Freddy Mercury café in Buckingham palace home to the Queen Museum.

Easter Bollocks, Muffin bollocks

All the evidence tells us it is only a matter of time before life forms form another planet make contact. And we need to start thinking about planning for their arrival. This is a complicated planet. Take muffins for instance. Why aren’t they called small cakes? Cause that’s all they are. Is it because if you told your mum you wanted a small cake for breakfast she would clip you on the ear. Did the cake companies get together and decide to create ‘muffins’ as a way of tricking people into eating cake for breakfast?
And what about Easter. What do you have? A guy who was nailed to a cross till he died. A whole lot of bunnies and chocolate eggs…WTF! I understand that what we have here is a hotch potch of different traditions thrown into the celebration blender and given 2 minutes on high speed. But that’s no excuse! We need to sort this shit out otherwise, before you know it, aliens will come and check us out then go home and piss their pants telling stories to their alien mates about our messed up ideas.
I’m not talking about big overhaul, just a reordering of the main ideas so they form some kind of theme. You know the New York artist who did the big chocolate Jesus on a cross. He had the right idea. Chocolate is popular with the kiddies so lets run with that. But bunnies and eggs? Bunnies don’t lay eggs and I think it’s confusing for children. Chickens lay eggs, but they are so boring. In my house we have the Easter Turtles. Turtles lay eggs. Loads of them. I saw it on Discovery. So the Easter Turtle brings you more eggs. Plus they lay them in the sand so it is fun to dig for them.
But where do the chocolate eggs tie in with the crucifixion? When JC rose on the 3rd day did he ask for eggs for breakfast? Could that be the link? And they just made them chocolate for the kiddies. Why can’t you get chocolate crosses? Because of Vampires I reckon. You approach a Vampire with a chocolate cross who has a sweet tooth, then all he has to do is take one bite and it aint a cross anymore. I imagine that is one of the main reasons chocolate crosses have never taken off. Also melt to fast to make wearing them around your neck an option.
There are crosses on the buns. That makes sense. Hot and cross. Much the way Jesus must have felt when he realized he was going to have to take the rap for our sins. The bread is a nice tie in with the bread from his last supper although they had that with wine so it probably didn’t have raisins in, like hot cross buns do. Speaking of raisins… they look a lot like rabbit poo. Could that be the bunny link we need. Now if we can find evidence that they used colourful tin foil 2000 years ago we just might have cleared this mess up.

The UAE. Life in the fast lane

This is a weird place. It is like a nation on steroids. Well, oil actually. Everything happens in a hurry here. Prices and buildings go up faster than anywhere else in the world and the speed thing transfers onto the roads too.
You know how in a normal country if it starts raining, people slow down a bit? Not here. Rain just means people want to get where they are going faster. Fog is a similar story. A Lebonese mate of mine who is a speed nut explained why he drove home at night in thick fog at over 170 K’s in the fastlane. He said if he went any slower he risked being run into from behind by a speeding car…I’ve already picked out the black shirt for his funeral.
The main drag between Dubai and Abu Dhabi is almost as dangerous as the road from Baghdad airport. The speed limit in the UAE seems to be a rough guide only. Or that’s how everyone treats it.
So I’m barreling along at 160 in my little rental car, thinking I am truckin and suddenly a large white four by four screams into the rear view mirror with his lights flashing, which is the Emirate sign for ‘get out of my way, my Lexus is 2 months old and I have to get to the dealer and trade it in’.
The speeding local races past and as I watch him ripping up the fast lane with his chunky tread at 180, I think to myself, there goes an impatient driver…until, a few seconds later, he is overtaken on the outside, on that spare bit of road between the lane marking and the crash barrier, by a guy in another 4x4 going about 215.
This is a typical drive from Abu to Dubai, so it’s no surprise that like their buildings and indoor ski fields, when the Emeraties have a car crash, they make it the biggest in the world.
Cars only burst into flames in crashes, in two places. The movies and the UAE. It happens all the time, but this morning’s bash and burn was big, even by UAE standards. Over 200 cars. Here’s a link taken by some rubber neckers a few hours after the carnage. ff to around the 6 min mark to see the real wrecks.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j-RbMT5DJpY

my favourite new web site

www.chucknorrisfacts.com

A whale of a time in the Antarctic.

‘They started it!’ That seems to be the vibe coming from the Japs and Sea Shepard (the Greenies with attitude outfit).
Sea Shepard were complaining that the Japs were shooting at them, the Japs say they threw sound-emitting ‘warning balls’ and the Japs also claim the Sea Shepard posse, threw rotten butter and bottles containing an unidentified liquid…. Rotten butter? What’s up with that? Did they take a whole lot that they bought cheap on E bay or was it butter that became rotten while they were out at sea. How does butter go rotten? Cause you have so much you don’t get round to eating it all? Those Sea Shepard dudes are so busy saving the planet, no one has thought to save their arteries I’m guessing.
But come on Japanese whalers. A few pounds of rotten butter hits your little blood soaked floating harpoon platform. So what? In the words of Chopper Reid, harden the fuck up. Going crying to the world press because some expired dairy products get biffed at you, is hardly in the Samurai tradition is it?
As for the unidentified liquid, I, like you, naturally assumed it was wee,because that is the grossest thing I could think of. Almost as gross as standing knee deep in whale guts and blubber.

But back to the sound-emitting ‘warning balls’. Wonder what sound they make - ‘Fuck Off, Fuck Off, Fuck Off? or “This is a Warning! In a ball shaped device." It is very sci fi, I’d like to see one of those.
The photo in the newspaper was of three Japanese men in black swat team outfits. One had just thrown a sound-emitting warning ball, and the other two? Well they were video taping the thrower which when you think about it, is just reinforcing the whole Jap tourist thing.
How embarrassing.
Personally, I think if the whalers want to keep the Sea Shepard dudes out of rotten butter throwing range they should strap a live whale to the front of their boat with a sign hanging off it that says ‘Don’t come any closer or the whale gets it.’
Thats gotta cause a heated debate amongst the xtreme greenies.
I’ve also been having a think about butter substitutes for the Sea Shepards, incase their supplies go off again. The easiest solution is whale blubber. And where they go there is plenty of that lying around.

Thinking with your balls

Who said ‘Don’t think with your balls’? You know that feeling you get when you are standing on the top of something very high (I’m talking to men here). That odd tingly sensation in the mansack department? That is your nuts way of reminding you they are there. It is well known that nuts communicate via this tingling sensation. What they are trying to tell you is. ‘If you ever want to use us again. Don’t go any further!
So there you go. Perhaps sometimes you should listen to your nuts. I’m not saying balls have brains, just that sometimes they make sense.

Dolf Ludgren & Christopher Lambert. Harder to stamp out than Chlamydia.

They’re two of the enigmas of the movie world. How can two men be around so long and do so many bad movies?
I mean, if you do that many films. If that many suckers out there, are prepared to fork out the biggish bucks for you to run around in front of their 35mm cameras, surely you are gonna manage to do the odd film that isn’t complete and utter crap.
But not Chris and Dolf. No, those two acting legends have the ability to stick to shit like 2 ply toilet paper.
Was The Highlander just a fluke for Chris. Was he drunk when he read the script and forgot his golden rule of only go for cliché, bullshit plots with weak as storylines that have been pulled out more time than a Cher retirement tour.
Dolf never quite scaled the heady heights of something as good as Highlander. But Rocky 4 (or was it 3) didn’t completely blow. Wonder if he knew that would be his celluloid climax.
So Dolf and Chris continue to wreak havoc across big screens. But the real tragedy, the danger, are the DVD’s. Through this technology, these men have the potential to harm moive fans for generations to come.

Pet Rockology

Here are some interesting facts about Pet Rocks that you might not know. In fact know you don’t know them because I only thought them up half an hour ago.

Pet rocks were invented ages ago as a way to get kids interested in going to stonings.

Like Chiwawas you can keep your pet rock in your handbag.

Volcanic rock doesn’t make good pets. It’s too hard to paint the eyes on.

Historic pet rock moments – When David killed Goliath with a sling, he used his pet rock.

A big pet rock is still referred to a pet rock. Not a pet boulder. Except in Italy and some parts of China.

Pet Rock names – Calling your pet rock ‘Rocky’ is lame. A better name would be Sylvester or Stallone. Another clever name is Hudson.
If you have 2 you can call the second one ‘Roll’

NASA has 3 pet rocks the Apollo astronauts bought back

You can paint the eyes on your rock any colour you want. But never paint a mouth cause those bastards don’t shut up.

Until 1961 it was illegal to give a pet rock a girls name.

It is still illegal to own a pet rock you can’t lift. That is why no one had painted eyes on Ayers Rock.

Colostomy Bag bollocks

They lied about the weapons of mass destruction and muddied the waters over the link between Saddam and Al Quieeeda.
But here’s something you probably don’t know.
A colostomy bag…….. is in fact a pouch.
That’s right. Not a bag at all.
I can see the reason for the subterfuge. I mean when you say bag you imply decent storage capacity. A pouch? Well the only thing that’s good for is a flint and a few spare arrowheads. A pouch is what Granddad keeps his clip on sunglasses in. And his poo as well apparently.

Thing is. If they have fudged the facts about something as important as colostomy POUCHES.
What else are they lying about.

…… makes you think eh

Archeological bollocks

Big news in Peru. Archeologists uncovered a 5500-year-old plaza. Evidence of just how advanced man was way back then.
How did they know it was a plaza? Well these guys are trained to spot things like this. Years of training enables them to identify what the laymen might dismiss as a mound of dirt. Plus they found a 5500 year old Starbucks in it .

How special are your special forces.

Reason I ask is I was reading about Turkey’s invasion of Northern Iraq. The article mentioned that Turkish Special Forces parachuted in.
Now I know a journalist who has been into Iraq and knows about these things and he told me that the Turkish Special Forces are actually pretty…special. Nato trained apparently. But what about the stories you read about the Special Forces in other countries. Like Yemen or Slovakia? Just how special are they? Should the tag special be bandied about willy-nilly?
You know how the French in Champagne get their big French noses out of joint about other people using the name champagne? Well maybe it should be the same with the Special Forces. Maybe there should be a governing body that certifies that your forces are special enough to be called special. Maybe there should be a badge (black of course) that identifies them. It could b simple - I’M SPECIAL
America has loads of Special Forces. The original ones were the green berets. But my journo mate told me they aint so special anymore. Delta Force and the Navy Seals and Sylvester Stallone. Those are the really special forces these days.
But naturally, in a country obsessed with product offering, America offers alternatives. Like The Rangers. Made famous in that brilliant film Black Hawk Down.
The Rangers are kind of like Special Forces Light. Diet Special Forces if you will.
Don’t get me wrong. Those guys are good. A cut above your enlisted grunt and if you are putting together an operation that calls for special forces, don’t discount the idea of making the Rangers part of your repertoire.
But back to the ‘special’ tag. Just cause you put on black webbing and a balaclava, doesn’t make you special and quite frankly I think it devalues the impact of the real Special Forces. So, if you’re in charge of your nation’s military, just have a look at what you offer in the Special Forces department and ask yourself the hard question. How special are my special guys?

Fat suit fun

Did you see the episode of Tyra ( new millennium Oprah) where she went out in the fat suit and got a feel for how fatties are treated?
That got me thinking. Why should fat suits only be for skinny people? Why don’t they make a fat suit for fat people. It would be cheaper than a normal fat suit because you wouldn’t need so much fat in it. A fat person could put it on and spend the day getting stares and hearing the whispers. Then they would have the rush of ripping off their fat suit and suddenly feeling a whole lot better about themselves. It would be like waking up after liposuction, without the pain and bruising and bandages that have to stay on for weeks. Removing that fat suit would transform the fatty from morbidly obese to just really really fat.
It would also be a great new market for the makers of fat suits. I mean, how many daytime talk hosts and ladies magazine writers are going to do the ‘I found out what it was like to be fat for a day’ story? Not a huge market. My idea could send sales through the roof. I’ll tell you what will get fat. The fat suit maker’s bank accounts.

Castrover and out

So the old guy has finally retired and can I say well done on going out voluntarily. As opposed to being found in a hole under a mat on a farm by the Special Forces like Iraq’s old president.
Hussein had a beard that looked a bit like Castro’s. He grew his cause he was on the run from 200,000 US soldiers for months. What’s Castro’s excuse.
A lot of old people go somewhere warm when they retire. Alot of Americans go to Miami. Bet Castro wont be going there eh.
Anyway, he is already somewhere warm, and it has a good healthcare system.
So what now? Sign a lucrative sponsorship deal to be the face of a cigar? Or do a Pizza Hut ad like Gorby did?

Wonder if he will finally change out of his army fatigues? Maybe he’ll start wearing his PJ’s all day and go to the shop in his slippers.
Maybe he will ring talkback and bitch about the government.
Wonder if he and Mugabe have been chatting and supporting each other lately. ‘Go on. I’ll do it if you do it.’ ‘No, you do it first.’ ‘Ok, I will’
Of course Castro can retire in a little more comfort than Robert will be able to. Cuba is like Monaco compared to the drop kick of a disaster Zimbabwe has turned into.

Is it better to burn out than fade away? Maybe if Castro had died in the Bay of Pigs fighting off the CIA trained invaders with a machete and a pile of coconuts, he would have become as famous as his mate Che. Maybe Castro would be on t-shirts, beanies and cigarette lighters.
He was one of the last relics of the cold war, but legally the Yanks and the Russian cant stick him in one of their museums. Not till he’s dead anyway. I hope he writes a tell all book on his time in power on the pages of Cuban tabbacoo so that you can read the book then roll it and smoke it.
Viva the revaloution Castro, and enjoy not having to wear green anymore.

Chips in Space

Got very excited when I saw this packet in a lunch bar the other day. A sign of things to come I thought. Man has come up with the technology to liquefy chips. Chips in a tube if you will, although they appeared to have kicked off the break through with chips in a sachet.
Don’t make the mistake of not recognising the significance of this breakthrough, like the lady beside me who didn’t share my enthusiasm
If you can get chips in a tube, you can send them into space and that is going to revolutionize the spaceman’s diet. This is the kind of news that will get a lot of people thinking about going into space, who, until now, were put off by the lack of good food.

It later transpired that it wasn’t liquid chips, only vinegar and the picture was more of a serving suggestion, probably because vinegar is just brown liquid and not very interesting to photograph.

But, don’t be discouraged space food fans. It’s only a matter of time before they do work out how to put chips in a tube and when they do, food lovers everywhere will begin to think about going where no man prepared to put up with rubbish meals, has been before.

Stylish move by the Turkish Government?

The Turks have lifted the ban on headscarf’s for university students. Someone in the government obviously watches the Style channel and knows that the headscarf is one of the must have fashion accessories at the moment. Smart move from the country that bought the world Turkish delight and gave Australia and New Zealand a public holiday.

Elevator bollocks

These new stickers appeared in the lifts in my apartment building this week . They have the word Meld at the top. Naturally your thoughts immediately line danced to the Vulcan Mind Meld and Spock. But the words underneath quickly point you in another direction. Straight down.
Meld is the Mitsubishi Emergency Lift landing device.
I think maybe the sign is meant to reassure people the in the unlikely event of a malfunction the lift will land safely. But it had the oppisite effect on me.
I understand air bags. Cars have prangs and in that situation, an airbag is better than no air bag. But lifts aren’t supposed to plunge to the ground floor are they? Except in the movies?
Why the need to install emergency landing devices in lifts in a building that is one year old? And why wait one year?
What exactly is, an emergency landing device in a lift? Will oxygen masks drop from the ceiling? Even if the lifts craps out on the top floor I don’t think I could get a mask on and then my child’s before it hits the bottom.
Maybe the emergency landing device is just a really big spring. That would work wouldn’t it?
But then you could have a sign saying 'This lift is fitted with an Emergency Lift Landing Spring.' But you would probably use the word device because it sound more high tech. Thing is, you just don’t hear about lifts failing and crashing do you? So why the sudden need to comfort people? Is it a sign of things to come? Is the pressure to keep construction costs down resulting in cheaper more dangerous lifts? Has some bean counter worked out it is more cost effective to install a crappy lift with a safety landing device, than a proper lift that doesn’t need one? Maybe start seeing signs in the foyers of buildings that’s read ‘RELAX. WE’VE HAD __ DAYS WITHOUT AN ELEVATOR FATALITY

Space Fridge

They say the modern fridge has more computing power than Apollo 11 did when it took man to the moon.
That got me thinking. Why does the search for other life forms have to be so serious? Why do we have to send out probes with mathematical codes and diagrams of a man and a woman etched into gold plates? Why can’t we have a bit of fun? Why not make a good first impression with good old-fashioned humor.
So here’s the plan. We know a fridge has the computer power to get into space, so lets send one. Or even better, lets sends thousands.
Lets fill with a selection of yummiest food items that require refrigeration, and then launch then into the space in different directions.
Imagine the delight when one of our fridges lands on a planet with intelligent life?
After all the boring high tech probes they would have received over the years a box full of chilly snack would be a real hit. They wont know what.
Nothing says ‘We come in peace’ like a fridge full of food. A gastronomic gidday from man.
There would have to be a bit of planning. We’d have to watch the expiry dates on the stuff we load. Could be a long trip. And a selection of low fat items would be advisable. Think about it. You never see chubby aliens. Those grays with the big eyes look like they watch their weight.

Rambo rambling

Saw Rambo 4 in the weekend and I was a little disappointed. A high body count doesn’t automatically make it a great film and this had a record 290 something. Apparently though it has done well at the box office and Rambo is gonna be back for part 5.
Hats off to Sly. 60 and still doing it on the big screen, even it is with the help of Planet Hollywood sized servings of human growth hormone.
To be a Hollywood heavy weight, a true mega star, you gotta have a franchise. Arnie had Terminator, Bruce Willis had Die Hard, Mel had lethal Weapon, Sly had Rocky and Rambo. What a legend.
Sly’s secret was taking roles where he got to show his biceps. Rocky, Rambo, Cliff Hanger, that one in the late 80’s where he was an arm wrestler. Judge Dread didn’t happen. That’s cause he had a long sleeved uniform. But Sly could afford to make a few bombs cause he had his two franchises to fall back on.
For Sly, dusting off the Rocky and Rambo franchises is the movie version of what the old music geriatrics like The Police, Led Zep and The Who have done. The baby bombers want to
Back to Rambo 4. The trouble with it for me, was it broke from what made Rambo great.
First Blood was about one man and a big fuck off knife, taking on loads of army guys. Same with Rambo 2 and three. Gook army guys Russian army guys. Rambo four had more gookish type blokes, in Burma this time. Truck loads of them, and they died well. But for some reason the writers felt the need to give Rambo half a dozen mates and he never went bush. We didn’t get that great scene where Rambo came out of the muddy bank with a knife. Rambo 4 was really just a chuck Norris film with extra servings of growth hormone.
For Rambo 5 they’re planning to take him back to America, so I hope it’s a back to basics Rambo. Give him back the knife with the secret compartment with needle and thread and make him go bush. Could I suggest they do a Crocodile Dundee part 2 on it and let Rambo loose in a big city. That could be cool. I’m working on my ideas for a draft of Rambo 5, which I am going to send to the producers. Don’t want money. Just one of Rambo’s hunting bows and his sweaty bandanna.
Adriaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!

Yeah yeah, I know that's a Rocky line. But if you think about it all the lines from each franchise are pretty much interchangeable.

Frosties bollocks.

As an ad man I am always on the lookout for sponsorship ideas. Normally for my clients, but sometimes I just think of random ones for fun….. yeah, that’s right. The long winter nights fly by when you hang out with me.
So I had this idea.
Imagine if the Tamil Tigers, approached the makers of Frosties and suggested that Tony the Frosties Tiger, became their mascot. The Tamils could, for a large fee, put Tony on their uniforms. Maybe even incorporate him into their flag. It is a natural fit.
The Tamils are progressive and motivated. Not only do they have the standard guerillas running round blowing up things and sometimes themselves. They also have their own air force and navy.
Ok, so this might be a hard sell. Obviously you are going to polarize part of your potential market. For example, I cant see Frosties being served in the Sri Lankan government offices. But think of the new frosties devotees you would win over, in freedom fighter groups around the world. A great way to build share in those hard to reach 3rd world nations.
If the Frosties thing is a no go, maybe the Tamils should approach Tiger Woods about putting on a joint golf competition ?
I sent these ideas to the Tamils. I expect to hear back any day now.

Who ate all the Eminems?

America loves to kill what it loves. First Elvis now Eminem. Marshal is the new millennium model of the King. A working class white boy that took black music to heady commercial heights and made a shit load of cash in the process.
Elvis was like the living embodiment of everything that’s wrong about America. He went from svelte and good looking to a bloated, over dressed, drug and deep-fried bread stuffed with peanut butter and banana, fuelled caricature of himself.
Now it seems Eminem is heading the same way. Hopefully not with the same eating habits.
Apparently he’s stacked the weight on. About now he’ll be thanking his lucky stars that his wardrobe mainly consists of trackies. Not leather suits or tight jeans.
But maybe there’s hope. Elvis died before we were blessed with reality TV. I smell an opportunity for a savvy network executive to create a show to help Eminem fight the flab. Marshal’s record company could also tie it into the recording of his next album.
If poor old INXS could be tricked into being part of the musical necrophilia that resulted as they tried to rekindle their 80’s glory by hunting for a new Michael, then I am sure Eminem can be persuaded to mount an exercycle while he bangs out some new rhymes.
The weight lose journey could be seamlessly integrated into the album making process. For example, all his videos could feature him running and dancing. One of his tracks could become the new Jenny Craig TV ad jingle. He could record a duet with Aretha Franklin, she could do with losing a few kg’s. It could be a fatty helping fatty inspiration track. Maybe a hip hop infused cover of ‘That’s what friends are for’.
When the album comes out Eminem can hit the talk show circuit to talk about the benefits of healthy eating and weight lose. That crap goes down a treat on Oprah and Doc Phil and by doing it a whole new audience would be subtly sold on the new album.
If the fatty rap TV/album thing works, maybe we could try and save Britney.

Frisbee finale and other sad endings

The inventor of the Frisbee died last week and I was overcome with the kind of emotions that I felt in 2006 when the inventor of instant noodles died. These people were behind two of the great inventions of the second half of the 20th century, and their passing should be a world event.
I think the noodle guy should have had 2 minutes of silence around the globe, at the end of which, everyone should have saluted the moment with the noodles of their choice. Most likely chicken or chicken and corn. Probably not spicy shrimp so much.
For the Frisbee man I am thinking he should be cremated and the ashes mixed into a paste and compressed into a Frisbee, which would then be thrown off a cliff, into the water.
My other idea was that the ashes are mixed with crushed dog biscuits and the Frisbee is thrown in a park by a man wearing mirrored sunglasses, a toweling headband, really tight white shorts and a yellow singlet. The dog would catch the Frisbee then be allowed to eat it.
For me this kind of tribute would be similar in style to that of Gene Rodenberry, the creator of Star Trek. His ashes were taken into space on one of the space shuttles and released.
The inventor of the post it note must be getting on. We should start planning his passing now. How about a giant post it note, so big it can be seen from space. It could be spread out somewhere that isn’t used much, like Hong Kong Disneyland, and the people of the world could go there and sign it.
The inventor of the Honey Bear, the creator of Pac man, Velcro shoes, and the brains behind the abdominisor. They’ll all kick it in the coming years and we need to think about how we’ll honor the huge effect they have had on our lives.
Start planning people.