Saturday, January 04, 2003

Here is the beginning of the new year and summaries are born. I give a little mix from them:

1. Geov Parrish
2002 media follies
The most overhyped and underreported stories of the year.

"As a result, two-thirds of Americans in a recent poll were reported to believe that Iraq was responsible for 9/11. That's a combination of a cynical and extraordinarily effective propaganda campaign, and corporate reporters not doing their job -- or at least, not the job they're supposed to be doing."

And so on. I think, this bloke wrote this well; all follies are in the row.
Well, and I attach an old, but good map to this article.

2. This retroCRUSH guy was not lazy to collect the most irritating things of the previous year and added a photo to the articles.
(I was surprised, that W are just on the 20th place.)

I'm always amazed, although by this stage you'd think I'd know better, at the stupidity, the patheticness and the pointlessness of e-mail Spammers. This morning, for example, I received an e-mail the subject line of which read, and here I quote, "Hi Scragends, I haven't seen you in ages..."

The word "Scragends" should have been a giveaway I guess. I can only assume that most people get similar e-mails that read 'Hi Julie4592' etc. Naturally I opened the e-mail excitedly, in the hopes of rekindling a long lost romance or meeting up with a forgotten relative who was about to kick the bucket and leave me tons and tons of money, only to discover instead that I could now save thousands of $$$ on my mortgage.

One major point here. If I was stupid enough, moronic enough and uninformed enough to consider that moving my mortgage from my current British lender to some unknown, Internet Spammer-hack tied up to the American market, even then I wouldn't consider switching to somebody who had cack-handedly tricked me into opening their crappy e-mail by pretending to be an old school colleague that I'd lost touch with. Seriously, if this was their way of getting my attention then what the hell would they get up to with my money?

I'm now off to check this afternoon's mountain of 'Increase your Penis Size' and 'Lose Weight Now' e-mails. And JoeBloggs397@Hotmail.Spam.Con had better watch out.

p.s. The snow on the Cumbrian Mountains across the bay this afternoon looks extremely Christmassy and inspiring. Unfortunately my nose has now turned blue from standing in the icy cold wind and the snot has frozen in my nostrils. I'm thinking of inventing a nose-mitten and sewing the holes up in the knees of my denims before my legs drop off.


Who looks best in khaki?

Tough call, but at least neither of these chocolate soldiers is going
to get his smart clobber mussed up by being within coo-ee of the action.

Wonder which of the fresh faced lads behind Dubbya will look best in a body bag?

A big smallpox on both their houses.

Passing ironic to see Dubbya in dress ups he seemed reluctant to don in the past.
"If it comes to war, this generation of Americans is ready." Bush said at Fort Hood.

The gung ho Commander in Chief wasn't quite ready when it was his turn a generation earlier.

Interesting/awful ststastistic stsatistisc startisstix facts and figures.


Peter Hartcher had an excellent piece in the Weekend Australian Financial Review about American defence spending. The most amazing statistic was that America represents 5 per cent of the world population, 25 per of the world economy and 50 per cent of global defence spending.

George Bush is looking for $700 billion next year which is more than the annual Australian GDP. But a lot of this is being paid for by debt as George Bush is taking the US deep into deficit.

Dear ...

Bush addresses troops, declares readiness for war.

oh dear ...

Britain to send 20,000 troops to Gulf.

oh dear!

US warship to return to Fremantle, Australia.

Brian me old china, pass me whatever's left in your bottle.

Friday, January 03, 2003

Latest News: George W. Bush today rallied his subserviant, arse-licking, don't-ask-questions-just-follow-orders warriors together at Fort Bastard (or wherever it was...hey, I'm drunk so I couldn't care less) calling on them to "Stand firm against possible/probable difficult times ahead." Not half as difficult as the poor bastards in Iraq are about to experience, I bet. Apparently America now plans to 'LIBERATE' opposed to bomb the shit out of it and steal its oil reserves. Who says that America has fucked up the English language, eh?

What I'd like to know is who's going to liberate the rest of the world from America? Adding insult to injury, Dubbya went on to proclaim that the whole world was sick and tired of Iraq's refusal to disarm. The whole World? Surely America is the only country in the capitalist west where the majority of the population want to bomb Iraq? Are Bush and his cohorts still that ignorant that they believe America to be the only cuntry (sic) that actually matters? (Rhetorical question.)

And so begins a new year...same old crap, same old rhetoric, same old politics, same old gallbladder. One pork pie too many tonight. I knew it was a mistake buying a party pack of Melton Mowbray. Three tumblers of whiskey short of a coma. Normal service has been resumed.

A completely unbiased review of The Greyminster Chronicles, as uncovered at Barnes and Nobel. com...I swear I did not pay Mr Steventon any money, send him any illegal photographs of Ulrika Johnson in the nude or offer him any of my rare bone marrow for his up and coming transplant.

John Steventon, a Cartoonist who loves great Sci-Fi, December 30, 2002.

Funny and completely original!

I am very picky about what I read, and cannot stand the ordinary or predictable. Fortunately, I found some of Brian Hughes' early work some years back, which is completely original Science Fiction. This book is very formidable, but well worth any price. It contains all but one of Brian's novels, and all of his short stories that take place in the fictional small English town of Greyminster, a town that has seen it's glory fade into the past. Here the working stiffs and pensioners do their best to survive each day, which is even more difficult than normal considering that Greyminster is a nexus of oddities and strange occurances, where Robots from outerspace visit, and evil Overlords from alternate futures try to rearrange the Space-Time continuum to their own advantage! These are delightful tales, with some recurring characters and landmarks that become as real as your own hometown by the time you finish the book. You definitely want more, and thankfully, Brian continues to write. I would call his writing a cross between Douglas Adams, Monty Python, and Red Dwarf, but this would be a disservice, since Mr. Hughes is definitely in a class of his own. And yes, Brian has written the foreword to my recently published comic strip collection, and is now a close friend of mine, but this review is totally unbiased. I first met Brian as a fan, and a fan I remain. I truly enjoy these stories!

I have never met this man, despite his insistence to the contrary, but already I can see that Mr Steventon of Happy Glyphs. Com is a sincere and decent chap with none of the buggered-up, bitter sensibilities that certain so-called readers from Dublin and/or wombat-shaggers from Victoria have.

Thursday, January 02, 2003

Some General Advice for the New Year...

1) Sandles Travel Agents...if you're going to advertise on television the correct pronunciation of the word 'Caribbean' has the accent on the 'b' and not on the 'i'. The version you're using is the American pronunciation. If you want to continue this bastardisation of the English language then fair enough but please remember that when we've finally turned Britain into the 52nd State there'll be the same disgusting crime rate here as across the pond, the same hideous buildings and the same level of ignorance concerning politics and irony. More than that there'll be no sex on the telly and we won't even have America's one redeeming feature, the sunshine. Is that really what you want? If not then boycott Sandles Travel Agents now!

2) People who bought a new computer for Christmas...remember, when buying a printer to go with it don't choose a Hewlett Packard 610C...or any other Hewlett Packard for that matter. My printer has been occupied by Satan for the past five years and even after exorcism is still totally crap.

3) Fans of Setev have reached the wrong board. An easy mistake to make when your IQ is less than 45, I know, but please follow this link if you want to reach your favourite cartoonist.

4) The creators of the sitcom on BBC 1 starring Zoe Wannamaka (sp?) and that bloke out of Citizen Smith...when you're next stuck for ideas try placing your mouth/s around the exhaust pipe of a running car and inhaling deeply. Alternatively try slashing your wrists.

5) Suffering from a New Year hangover? Then try this simple remedy...take one egg, three pints of milk and a copy of Patternoster Row beat them all together and you'll be as right as rain in no time.

6) Will the bloke who left the collection bag for 'Help the Aged' on my doorstep, please collect it on the day he promised to next time as it's now full of rainwater and cat shit. Approximately £400.00 worth of paperbacks are ruined. Fortunately they were all copies of the Feral Eye Collection, but let it be a warning to you for future reference.

Uncle Brian...still too hung over from Christmas to think of anything clever.

98: Fred and Rosemary West -- Pioneers in Patio Design.

Born Siamese twins in Cromwell Street, Worcester, 1945, Frederick Murdoch West and his incestuous lover Rosemary Myra were separated by the rightly famed Dr Mengeles at the Jerry Lewis Memorial Hospital in Leeds. The operation was a complicated procedure involving a spoon, three pounds of butter and a wrecking bar. Despite the psychological scars it needlessly left, by the age of eighteen months the charismatic couple had built up a successful interior decor business under the auspicious gaze of Lawrence Lleweln Bowen, catering for the sado-masochistic needs of the aristocracy.

Staunch campaigners on behalf of the 'War Against Naughty Kids -- Extreme Response Society' they began clearing the streets of unruly teenagers as earlier as 1962. Meanwhile, back at Cromwell Street, Fred designed his famous 'Cellar of Fun', including plenty of anachronistic priest-holes for his secret stash of mutilated reprobates. As the population of the overcrowded council estates in the Midlands decreased the Wests went about their daily business unrecognised for their gallant social deeds.

On October the seventh, 1991, however, Fred was arrested for sneezing too loud in the local library. Later that day he was hung by the toenails from a rafter in his cell until his eyeballs bulged and his wife exploded.

Both Wests are now buried beneath Mr Toaster's patio, Killslaughter Lane, Upper Crummock. The house at Cromwell Street has been demolished to make way for a MacDonalds.

Fred and Rosemary still appear regularly in British newspapers when there's bugger all else to print.

Twisted thanks Sedgers for his wisdom. Having compared your post with mine I can see where I went wrong. I'll keep talking the pills and reading HTML for Dummies until I get it right!!!!
The venerable Sage of Unyan
Dispenser of wisdoms and sayer of sooths to the masses

Upon seeing no less than three credit card applications raining down on his head from on high this morning the Venerable Unyan doth say - verily this is a vexing waste of natural resources and effort, especially the sneaky one disguised as an official missive. The unholy battalions of Mammon heedeth not the lesson of Gordon the Brown waxing wroth about the evils of credit abuse yet the same unholy forces unleashed the cruelty of a stealthy higher tax on borrowing upon the multitudes without much comment from God's fiscal handservant for in this they are doing the work of the Lord. Such is the way of the world.

This morning a mystifying search engine query found its way to this blogsite - Fair Isle sweaters for men. I feel a sheep-shagging joke coming on...

Editor's note: Just make sure Organ Morgan isn't around to read it ...

Deputy Editor's note: I wish Ulrika would keep her tits out of our Blog. Comes up No. 1 in Gooooooogle when searching for "ulrika johnsen's tits".

Well, there is many volunteers in the undermentioned photos and here is the claim to their talent. Probable they donated that 300 bucks.


Wednesday, January 01, 2003



"Wins on recount."
Miami Electoral Commission

(BTW is it just the carrier pigeon to Oz, or is Blog Spot generally a bit slow and hung over at the moment?)

Around the World this morning (at least in the so-called Christian countries) as each time zone turned the midnight hour, celebrations and festivities, fireworks and music, bonking and barfing filled the air.

In Sydney the bridges were ablaze with colour, the word "Peace" illuminating one end of the harbour and the words "Off Refugees" the other.

In New York, despite interference from the Homeland Security, they celebrated in their usual decadent style.

Even battered old Bali put on a fine display of fat men in loin cloths doing whatever it is that the Balinese do.

Meanwhile in London...

...thousands of revellers found themselves shut out of Trafalgar Square, one sad little Roman Candle being the solitary, paltry offering to the New Year's Party as Big Ben struck twelve and the sparklers fizzled pathetically in the gloom.

How miserable can you get, huh?

By contrast Edinburgh was producing more smoke than the World Trade Centre a year and a half ago. There was singing and dancing and haggis and bristly buttocks being brandished from loose kilts and 'hoch ayes' and 'the noos' and celebrating into the small hours with traditional Hogmany excess and plenty of cheap whiskey. the risk of offending Green Fairy and every other Cockney sparrow who might frequent this board (what's the point in a good rant if you can't offend the odd person, eh?)...I can't help thinking that now you know what it feels like.

For decades every major construction undertaken in Britain by the government, from the Millennium Dome to the Ferris Wheel, from museums to art galleries to major libraries...they've all been built in frigging London and the rest of Britain could go take a flying shit, despite them being the product of our collective taxes. But last night...the rest of the country celebrated in style whilst London stewed in its own juices. (For more information about miserable bastards from London see 'Eastenders', 'The Bill', 'Casualty' and every other BBC bloody drama ever made.)

You know where the comments box is...please type softly...unlike some, I have a hangover....


Like I said. One size fits all!




Source here.

And one fit sizes all!

Tuesday, December 31, 2002


One size fits all!
Love From Twisted Sister

It's the New Year's Honours List time again and amongst the usual smatterings of human effluence, politicians, aging film stars and comedians with Parkinson's disease, there's some chap, whose name eludes me at the moment, being knighted for rescuing over 600 Jewish children during the Second World War. Naturally questions have been raised as to why it's taken the palace so long to recognise this man's heroic deeds. According to a statement released by the home office today, "'s taken us this long to process the fucking claims."


Well...what did you expect? A long and well researched blog? It's New Year's Eve for crying out loud. I'm off out to get drunk, piss inside a telephone box, have a massive fight with my girlfriend and wake up in the morning in somebody's flower bed with my face coated in sick.

Phoney Tony and Deputy Dubya have been stupendously embarrassed by the revelation that Hawk-in-Chief Donald "Duck You Raghead Scum" Rumpsfelt was responsible for supplying Saddam with chemical and biological weapons ten years ago. Some of the very same weapons they have condemned Saddam for hiding.



Arthritis my arse.
See this and weep you embittered old harridans!!!

The Venerable Sage of Unyan
Dispenser of Wisdoms and Sayer of Sooths to the Masses

Upon hearing of the waywardness of fourteen year olds the Venerable Unyan doth say – bring back the punishment that is corporal for it is the only language the little bastards do understandeth.

Upon hearing of the woes of Mr. Nasser Hussein, his Sovereign Overlords and his serfs the Venerable Unyan doth say – taketh not thy bats of willow, thy stumps, thy leather clad balls, thy raiment of white and goeth not into the land of the demon Mugabe and you will truly be blessed with the riches of heaven if not on Earth. Defy your God, Tony the Virtuous, who sitteth at the Right Hand of the Blessed Dubya, and feel the awesomeness of his wrath; at least until the next eleven days shall come to pass by which time the stench of outrage rising from the Street of Shame will have probably blowneth over.

Upon hearing of the greatly prophesied accidental scattering of unholy genes infesting the pure growing places of the Earth where they shouldst not go the Venerable Unyan doth say – fucketh not with the true nature of things lest they, in turn, fucketh you!

Monday, December 30, 2002

I have found something for Kevin.
(And this is good to practice Hungarian too.:)

Aluminum Foil Deflector Beanie:
an effective, low-cost solution to combating mind-control.

And Practical Mind Control Protection for Paranoids. Here.

Single gentlemen out celebrating New Year's Eve tomorrow, remember that the consumption of too much alcohol combined with your efforts to 'pull a bird' can be extremely dangerous. Alcohol dulls the senses turning what, during more sober times, might be a hideous, dragon-faced old tart into a nubile young filly when pissed. Keep your wits about you during any booze ups you might be attending and remember...a dog is for life, not just for Christmas!

As 2002 curls up its toes and attempts to shuffle off this mortal coil it's time to reflect on all those wonderful institutions that have entertained us these last twelve months. The bigotry, the hypocrisy, the misogyny, homophobia, racism, propaganda, spin, lies, misanthropy, greed, corruption and bullshit that has, once again, made this year as turgid with human failings as any of its equally lustreless predecessors.

So, dear readers, charge your glasses and raise a toast. Here's to Disney's "1001 Dead Dalmatians", a charming film about rescuing spotty puppies brought to you by the heartless bastards who, as soon as the real puppies were too old to film any more, had them all put to sleep. And here's to the wankers who, despite knowing this, still bothered to see the film.

Here's to Jeffrey Archer and his prison memoirs who once again proved that riding the gravy train is 100,000 times more financially rewarding than talent. And whilst we're on the subject of talentless twats, here's to Ulrika Johnson and Michael Barrymore and Anthea Turner and Jade and Michael Winner and all those other worthless, uninteresting, mindless, moronic television presenters about whom the newspapers have become fanatical since the "Queen of all Worthless Parasites", Princess Diana, kicked the Parisian bucket.

And here's to war and the oil wells in Iraq, soon to be divided between George the Conqueror and his money-grabbing, heartless, bastard-sons-of-bitches colleagues. Here's to ignorance, to football and the monarchy, to soap operas and Cilla Black, to pubs and golf and Stock, Aitkin and Waterman -- those never-changing institutions of the unthinking populace that keep progress at bay and stem the growth of self-awareness at its source.

Here's to New Labour who sold out its socialist policies for a taste of office and George Bush's ringpiece. Here's to arch manipulators such as Rupert Murdoch and Peter Mandleson and Greg Dyke. Here's to inequality across the social board where the lunatics are firmly in control of their asylums, where the rich get richer and the poor get pissed on, where charities take the place of income tax, where churches take the place of common sense, where self-deception, avarice and spasticity of the mind pervert the truth, bend the rules of aestheticism towards purple and yellow and shroud the feeble brain of the common cretin in the cotton-wool fleece of peer-group acceptance.

But most of all, here's to the average shit in the street. The sports fanatic and the lottery player, the politically ignorant and the sexually stunted, the illiterate, sideways-glancing, Tory-voting, tax-evading, self-congratulatory, celebrity-gossiping, American-film-watching, Christmas-celebrating, Harry-Potter-worshipping, common old dickhead without whom the world wouldn't be able to substantiate the divisions in wealth, in war and religion. Let's raise a bucket of frothing piss to all these things that have kept 2002 in the stinking dark ages and will no doubt continue to shit on the downtrodden through tasteless golden toilet seats in the year to come.

Folks...let's raise a tankard to ourselves. Happy Same Old Year!

Sunday, December 29, 2002

Clare Short's condemnation of the English cricket team's plans to play
in the World Cup being held in Zimbabwe during February is, on the surface,
most commendable - but more of that later.

Mugabe's regime remains in power bolstered by uncountable human rights
violations including starvation and torture, the most newsworthy (in Britain
that is) being the forced removal of white farmers from their properties.
Nasser Hussein, the England captain, looks set to lead his team if the English
Cricket Board takes the stance of the International Cricket Council and gives
him the go ahead. Although not in the same class, any decision to attend the
World Cup is in the spirit of war criminals who claimed to be "only following
orders". The singular positive outcome of the English side going to Zimbabwe is
to swell their bank accounts. Taking the moral high ground and telling the
cricket authorities to get stuffed will cost them dear and may lead to being
sued for breach of contract.

Twisted suggests that our boys make us proud by inserting steel into
their spines, standing up to be counted and thumbing their collective noses at
Muthugbe and his gangsters. If the England side do decide to go then I hope
they fucking lose because they'll have deserved it.

Back to Clare Short. Her government's (rather the Cabinet's) view on
human rights seems to be very flexible. They don't give a shit about how many
Iraqi civilians will be killed when Dubya drops his hat. Their hypocrisy about
the appalling Afghan "collateral damage" was second only to that shown by the
US. Now Bleughh, at Dubya's behest, wants Turkey's entry into the EC
fast-tracked. Europe has refused outright because of Turkey's crappy human
rights record. Good for them!

Turkey supposedly condemns torture but it still goes on. People who
oppose what is manifestly a one party state are labelled terrorists. Anyone
falling foul of the secret police have a depressing way of disappearing only to
be found with bullet holes in their heads. The treatment of Turkey's largest
ethnic minority, the Kurds, makes for grim reading. Despite all this Britain
continues to sell arms to Turkey.

By far the greatest crime visited upon the mostly Kurdish population of
south east Turkey (Anatolia) is the ongoing GAP project to build up to twenty
two dams along the Euphrates and Tigris valleys. Two dams are already
completed, the Ataturk and Birecek dams. Tens of thousands of locals, mostly
Kurds, have been forcibly displaced (some to our chilly shores) and only a tiny
minority of the dispossessed have been compensated. Many rich archaeological
sites (including the Roman settlement of Zeugma), some dating to the
Palaeolithic, have been lost beneath the waters. The proposed building of the
Ilisu Dam on the Tigris valle,y close to the Syrian/Iraq borders, was backed by
Tony Blair, one of the major contractors involved being British construction
company, Balfour Beatty. The Ilisu dam will displace up to 74,000 Kurds and
drown Hasankeyf, one of the world's oldest cities. There was an international
outcry about the Ilisu project and the World Bank refused to fund the dam.
Balfour Beatty was shamed into withdrawing from the project and the British end
of the deal collapsed last year.

Iraq and Syria, both downstream from the GAP dams, have reason to
protest. They fear that Turkey will be able to control the flow of the
Euphrates and the Tigris, major sources of fresh water for both countries, and
blackmail them. Last but not least there is the environmental devastation to

All in all, Tone isn't bothered by any of this because he would still
like Britain to participate in the construction of the Ilisu dam and is sending
out "feelers" for anyone who will put up cash. French company, Amey, of which
Balfour Beatty holds a 40% stake, is ready to oblige the Turkish government.
The only thing stropping them is the lack of guaranteed money.

Why are Dubya and Holy Tone so eager to oblige the Turkish government?
Is it the pissing off the Syrians and the Iraqis that has made Tone and Dubya
so enamoured of the Turks? Syria and Iraq have both been named as leading
participants in the "axis of evil". Syria has been accused of hiding Saddam's
unconventional arsenal from the UN inspectors. Is this a good enough excuse to
welcome Turkey into the EC, no questions asked? Dubya and Tone think so.

And as to New Labour's disgust at Muthugbe's murderous regime hosting
the next cricket World Cup - well isn't this little more than payback for
Muthugbe's ambush and public humiliation of our dear leader at the "Earth"
summit earlier this year? Talk about the pot calling the kettle black!

Frosty The Blowman

99: Saint Myra Hindley. 60's pop goddess, director of Yorkshire social services, prison reformer and concubine of the flaxen-haired aristocrat, Lord Longford.

In 1967 Hindley began her tireless campaign to rid Britain's streets of poverty-stricken children, accompanied by her ever-faithful sidekick Ian Duncan-Smith Brady. "This was a huge leap forward for feminism," commented Germaline Greer (Female Eunuch and Australian porn queen) in Hindley's defence. "Myra is one of the few women to achieve equality in the male dominated world of serial killers." In fact so great was Hindley's influence that in the decades to follow women started drinking as much as men, watching football, swearing, fighting and generally being as offensive and as crap as their male counterparts in every walk of life.

After being sentenced to life imprisonment for a minor parking offence, Hindley repented of her otherwise blameless life and eventually found Jesus. This was more than could be said for the Yorkshire police who didn't find his hacked up body buried in the prison window box until three weeks after Hindley's death.

Lady Hindley-Longford was buried on Saddleworth Moor in 2002, her premature end brought about by her choking on the head of a small whippet. Her black and shrivelled heart was sold at an auction in Llandudno to a concerned scientist from the Daily Express.

Attention Mr. Petrenyi.


This week: The Feral Eye Collection by Terry Sedgwick.
Simply Brilliant!, March 9, 2001

Reviewer: Anthony Ellis from USA

This book of cartoons is a tragically underrated GEM! The cartoon's range from hilarious to . . . well, hilarious! With this book, Segwick displays a creative GENIUS that is all too lacking in the post-Larson cartoon era. This collection of cartoons shows that Segwick is definitely in Gary Larson's league, in terms of creative, artistic and humorous brilliance. A brilliantly funny and creative book. A must-have!!

Editor's note: Twat!

Deputy Editor's note. When I handed over the brown paper bag bulging with notes to Mr. Ellis, it was with strict instructions ... "I don't care what you write ... just get my name right." DUDDED I was! I shall have a stern word with him ... "castration"

However it was better than this offering from Setev Gilellan of Dublin.

"This book of carton's is a lagerly underratted GERM! The carton's range from hilrious to . . . well, hilrious! With this book, Segswiwinck dismays a creative GENUS that is all too lacking in the post-Larson carton era. This election of carton's shows that Segswiwinck is indefinitely in Gary Larson's leg, in terms of crative, artinistic and humerous brilliance. A brilligly phoney and crative book. A must has been!!" Sales Rank: 1,916,636 (Te he he!)