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Nice and Tasty.

In fact, it's delicious. Or should that be

I'm fucked if I know. But anyhoo, here's what I'm talking about...

I now have a bookmark sharing thingy. Just click here to see a list of all my bookmarks.

Have fun.


Johnny and the Alien. Part 2.

When the greenish-grey thing landed on the hatch Johnny got so much of a fright he jumped backwards, tripped over a tree-root and fell. His head hit a rock his eyes began to water.

Johnny shook his head from side to side, just like he'd seen people do on the TV when they got hit on the head, sat up and looked at the spaceship again. At the bottom of the ramp of the greenish-grey thing shook what must be it's head (It was the bit that had the eyes in it) and made a noise that sounded like "Snargle-flaggle-shood."

The alien looked at Johnny. Johnny looked at the alien.

"Hello." Said Johnny.
"K-phhlllut" Said the Alien as it turned around and looked at it's upsidedown spaceship.

Johnny stood up and walked over to where the alien was now kicking the side of the spaceship and making strange noises. It sounded to Johnny like the alien was a bit angry so he went to ask if the alien would like any help.

"Excuse me" He said, as his mom had taught him to be polite. "Do you need any help?"
The alien turned around and looked at Johnny. Johnny looked into it's eyes. All three of them.
"Aranda-crooft-grundy." Said the alien.
"It looks like you crashed your spaceship. Would you like me to go and get my mom to phone for a breakdown truck? There's a man in town that has a big truck that he can put cars onto when they stop working." Said Johnny.

The alien closed two of it's eyes and all of a sudden grabbed Johnny by the shoulders. Johnny felt like the time he felt sick after eating too much ice-cream but then something happened inside his head and it stopped. It felt like he was asleep. And dreaming.

Johnny dreamed about his school, which wasn't very much fun as Johnny didn't much like school. Then suddenly his eyes popped open and he looked down to see that the alien had let go of his shoulders, had closed its middle eye and was looking at Johnny with the other two.

The alien turned around and faced the open hatchway of his ship, made a noise that sounded like "Sspptalopootini-scrudge." then turned back towards Johnny and said "Hellllloo Chawny... Heylo Jawnny... Hello Johnny."

Johnny's mouth dropped open. The alien had said his name...

To be continued? Leave a comment if you feel like it.


Taking a small break.

I may not be posting much for the next couple of days to give myself some time away from the computer world.


Review time.

This is a rough start to the short story I began.

Johnny and the Alien.

Johnny loved playing in the woods at the back of his house.

It was his place, his own personal jungle where he could hide from the hordes of Indian Braves that were always on the lookout or a scalp or two. It was where he played Cowboys and Indians, Cops and Robbers and sometimes, if there were other children, he got to play War.

Even if there weren't other kids hanging around in the woods Johnny could use his imagination to conjure up an enemy, or ten, whom he could track. Luckily, Johnny had an imaginary friend who was a superlative actor who could play an Indian tracker with consummate skill.

On the day Johnny met the alien he was playing in the mudpool. Johnny that is, not the Alien. Aliens don't play in mudpools. They're too busy studying the mysteries of the universe, making crop circles and buzzing Air Force jets to concern themselves with the joys of the mudpool.

Johnny was pushing an armored personnel carrier, which to a grown-up would have looked very much like a brick, through the mudpool when he saw a bright flash and heard a loud thud. Johnny looked up from his world-in-a-mudpool and saw something glinting through the trees.

The road above the wood was tight and once in a while a car would take the bend too fast and end up going through the guard-rail. Johnny went to investigate who had crashed their car just in case they needed help. If it was a bad accident he could run back to his house and tell his mom to phone the local doctor to come and assist the people who had been in the car wreck.

As he walked through the woods, Johnny could hear a strange humming noise. It reminded him of the noise his spinning top, that he got from his aunt May three birthdays ago, made.

Johnny walked towards the noise and ducked down to pass through the thick bushes and trees.

When Johnny saw the vehicle that was upside down in the ditch he said the word that he used for moments like this.
"Wow." He said.
It wan't a big word, by any means, but when you're only 8 years old and have just seen a flying saucer upside down in a ditch "Wow." is as big a word as you can think of.

When Johnny walked towards the craft he saw a hatch open in the side of it. A noise like the school fire alarm was coming from the inside of the ship and a strange noise, almost like the bathroom sink when it got blocked, was slooping and gurgling inbetween the shriek of the alarm sound.

Johnny took a few steps towards the spaceship and tried to get a look inside. He was too far away to see anything so he took a few more steps. And a few more. And a few more, until he was almost able to reach out and touch it.

And that was when he got the fright of his life.

As he took his last step a crash came from inside the ship. A small greenish-grey looking thing fell out of the craft and landed with a kersplodge, much like the sound of a dropped jelly, onto the hatch...

To be continued? Any comments would be welcomed.


My ideal woman.

Ok folks. You asked for it so here goes...

My ideal woman would.
  • Make me feel Love like I had never been in love before.
  • Love me like she had never been in love.
  • Enrage me to the point of madness.
  • Be absolutely open to everything and anything. Ideas, beliefs etc etc.
  • Never shy away from saying the things no-one says.
  • Be honest.
  • Realize that my past made me who I am and accept it as unalterable.
  • Have a nice smile.
  • Make me laugh.
  • Correct me if she thinks I'm wrong and realize it doesn't really matter.
  • Be warm and caring.
  • Appreciate that life is the one joke that we'll never know the punchline to.
  • Laugh at the absurdity of arguing.
And that's about all I can think of just now. I may add things later as I think of them.

Konnichiwa, Japan.

Here is a translation of this site into Japanese.



First, they came for the Jews. And I did not speak up because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for the smokers and I was mightily pissed at them for that.

It's kinda off of me to compare the smoking ban with the persecution of an entire ethnic group. But, the proposed ban on smoking in public that is to take place next march has really got my goat.

Who are these do-good fuckwits who deem that I shouldn't be able to choose an early death? The same people who allow massive companies to spoil our atmosphere by polluting it with barrels of toxic poison and smile happily, as their share prices rocket skywards.

And while we're on the subject of body poisoning... Would all you people who stand in the pub throwing back bottles of Becks Beer, Brandy and Burgundy & harp on about how my cigarette smoke is killing you, please... Fuck off. You are a hypocrite and a moron.

And to all of you who drive a car of any kind... You my toxin producing friends are making a bigger mess of this planet than I ever will with my cigarettes.

♪♫ Future so bright, I gotta wear shades...♪♫

Just when you thought pampered popstars couldn't get any more up their own arseholes...

U2 frontman, Bono, claims he wears sunglasses to protect his right eye from swelling up when someone takes his photograph.

Yeah Bono, sure, that's the reason. Nothing to do with the fact that Bvlgari sunglasses are really expensive and they make you look oh so cool and hip... Not to mention that if the press prints this story you get lots of pairs of Bvlgari sunglasses for free.


Why I can never have kids.

If I was to become a parent...

I couldn't chastise my kids for doing things that society deems to be wrong. I couldn't search through their rooms looking for drugs, if I did, chances are I'd take them myself. "Cool, free drugs..."

I couldn't handle them as a small bundle, I'd be too scared I'd drop it after one too many rum and cokes and brain damage the poor little fucker.

I couldn't lie to them about Santa, the tooth fairy, the boogeyman or god. I'd be too scared that the little shit would turn out to be just as confused as to what life is as I am now thanks to the same influences when I was a kid.

I'd be scared that I'd be a shake the baby parent. There are certain days when all it'd have to do is start crying on the last lap of a Moto GP race and I'd snap. "C'mere you little shit... Oops, I think I broke it."

Which is why I can never have kids.

And that's ignoring the fact that, due to the chemicals that I've pumped into my system over the last few years, any child of mine is likely to be a spongeheaded mutant.


Passing some time.

Playing about on the Gorillaz website.

The writing on the wall.

Is always there. Unnoticed mostly.

Until now.

I've seen art in galleries that didn't make me feel as much as some of the pictures of graffiti on this site.


Recent Listening.

Just a list of what I have been listening to in the last day or so.
More to be added later. Right now I gotta go and get ready for work.


Open for questions.

I've decided to make this blog a bit more accessible to all you lovely people out there in webland..

Should you have any questions you'd like me to answer then feel free to drop me a line and I'll post the questions and answers on here for you all to enjoy.

You gotta love...

The human immune system.

Or I do anyway. And judging by the liquidity of the shit I just squirted into the bowl of my toilet I'd say my immune system is getting a damn good work out.

The temptation to upload a picture of my squirt onto Rate My Poo was high but I'd really like to keep a decent readership for this blog so I'll save your eyes from seeing it. Suffice to say that it's not pleasant.

I hope this isn't the first symptoms of Avian Bird Flu that the British press has been talking about all week. Truth be told I'm not that concerned about it. It's only killed 60 people in Asia and there are millions of people in Asia. Sure, if it had wiped out a couple of hundred thousand Asians I'd be concerned but as such I'm not that bothered.

I suppose you could say I'm not shitting myself about it...

Moto GP. Australia. Phillip Island.

American rider Nicky Hayden starts from pole position in todays Moto GP race at Phillip Island followed by Italian Valentino Rossi with Spaniard Sete Gibernau taking third on the grid.

Nicky Hayden not only took the pole position but signalled his intent to the rest of the padock by posting the fastest ever lap of Phillip Island with a time of 1'29.337.

Nicky Hayden commented after the final qualifying session;
"My goal was to lap below 1'29.5 but the qualifying tyres just got better and better and on the last one I was really going for it. The bike is working well, the tyres have plenty of grip and that's when I love it. It's always nice to be on pole but it's tomorrow that counts. Everybody in the team is doing their bit and they're all right behind me so all I can do is try to put on good show and see what happens."
Valentino Rossi said;
"I was quite confident for pole position because the team have done a great job with the bike this weekend and it worked well from yesterday. I lost my best opportunity to take pole when I was held up by Xaus in the final corner; I tried to overtake him but I wasn't able to so I came in and tried again with another tyre. Anyway, sometimes that happens. I tried my best and my lap time was very fast but in the end Nicky was faster so congratulations to him - it was a great ride. I am quite happy because the bike is good and second place is not so bad. It will be a hard race, especially for the tyres, but hopefully the good weather will continue tomorrow!"
To access free live timing for the races click here and go to the live timing link.


Another Grand.

This blog has now breached 11,000 hits.

I'm staggred that so many people would find my life interesting enough to pay a visit.

A big THANKS goes out to everyone of you...

... I would offer to buy you all a drink but I'm fucked if I'm stumping up for 10,998 rum and cokes and 2 bottles of still water for my mother and my sister... Maybe I'll just get my mum and my sister the water.

Moto GP. Australia. Phillip Island.

The Moto GP circus hits Phillip Island this weekend.

Second place in the championship is still up for grabs and with wild cards such as World Superbike Second place rider Chris Vermeulen and Olivier Jaque It should be a good race.

Valentino Rossi has always liked Phillip Island and will, in my opinion, be in the top position when the checkered flag drops at the end of the weekend.

To get live timing for all practise and qualifying sessions click here and access the live timing area.

All quiet on the western front.

It's been a quiet couple of days on the good ship Ross' blog.

Mainly because it's been a quiet couple of days in Ross' life. But Selah, so it goes. It's all swings and roundabouts as they say here in Bonnie Scotland.

I've also started writing a short story for kids and hope to finish that at some point in the near future. I'll keep you all updated on it's progress and may even post a sample from it for your entertainment &/or comments & suggestions.

In other News... My mum and dad are, at this very moment, on the way to the sunshine state of Florida in the US of A. For two, hopefully, glorious weeks of arguing about where &/or what to eat/drink/sit/stand/sleep/eat/drink/go/do/visit. Nothing new there then.


4:06 am.

The first bird of the day has just begun its morning sing-along. The rest of the birds are probably sleeping. Like normal creatures do at this hour. So why, I hear you wonder, am I not sleeping? Because I'm not normal.

Normal people work 9-5, then go home and watch mindless soap opera's with their mentally vapid wife while their kids beat seven shades of shite out of one another.

Me? I work late, stay up late and sleep late. Which is the way it should be. There's not a feeling in the world like waking up at 1pm, scratching your balls and rolling over for another half hour in the Land of Nod. Which is where I really should be at this point in time, but hey, fuck it. I'm of today so I can do pretty much what I feel like.

Right now, for example, I feel like grabbing my coat and going for a walk.

Walking at this time of the morning is a wonderful thing. There is very little traffic and hardly any people. The streets are clean and the air smells crisp and clean. No Police sirens sound, no-one yells into a mobile phone every three feet, no dogs bark, no kids scream and scamper at the playground.

In short, you get the swings all to yourself.

The G man cometh.

I am now the proud owner of a Gmail account.

What use it is? I don't yet know. How do I use it? I don't yet know. But I'm going to enjoy finding out.

If any of the regular users of this blog would like a Gmail account then leave me a note in the comments section and I'll decide if you are worthy enough.


Another Day. Wasted.

That title has something of a double meaning to it. Can you figure it out? I bet you can, you're an intelligent creature.

And speaking of intelligent creatures...

If you're reading this please come and get me.


A Lazy Fucker.

That's what I've been today.

I woke up at midday and have been firmly ensconced within my bed since then. With nothing more to entertain me than Terry Pratchett's book Going Postal and a film called Swedish Debutants. It's a tough life...


Happy birthday, Eggman.

Had John Lennon survived being shot by Mark Chapman he would have been 65 today.

The world today is a sadder place because John Lennon isn't in it.

That's about all I can say about it. Words don't come easy when you're talking about a legend.
"Imagine there's no heaven,
It's easy if you try,
No hell below us,
Above us only sky,
Imagine all the people
living for today...

Imagine there's no countries,
It isn't hard to do,
Nothing to kill or die for,
No religion too,
Imagine all the people
living life in peace...

Imagine no possessions,
I wonder if you can,
No need for greed or hunger,
A brotherhood of man,
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world...

You may say I'm a dreamer,
but I'm not the only one,
I hope some day you'll join us,
And the world will live as one."
Happy Birthday John.

I still have no idea...

What design to put onto the T-Shirt that I donated to the winner of my 10,000th hit competition.

No doubt Karen, version 1.0, will be disappointed that I haven't had any dazzlingly brilliant idea suitable for being displayed over her chest for all the world to see.

The idea of doing a shirt with the logo "I hit that Cnut 10,000 times" occurred to me but I quickly dismissed it as crap.

Apologies are due to Karen for having to wait so long for her prize.

Oh Mother.

Only four days ago I reported to you all that my mother wanted me to send a picture of me to her.

I recently found out that my assumption, that it was to try to set me up with someone she knows, was right on the money, 100% correct. Apparently the woman in question has "A lovely personality" and "Would love to have children."

Where my mothers meddling will land me, I don't know.

And now I'm going to finish this post before it turns into some kind of fucked-up Bridget Jones' Diary.


The * Game & The Babelfish game.

Here's something fun for you all to have a play with.

The * Game.
  1. Go to Google and type in "[any name] is a *"
Here's a good one. And Another. And more.

The Babelfish Game.
  1. Take any poem, song lyric or text you want and translate it from your language into another language.
  2. Copy the text you get and translate it back into your own language.
Here's my previous post translated from English to Korean and back again.
The Georgebush between will distinguish a difference... Inside providence his head and voice voice. And we all must be in agony. It is in agony quite. You... When the fact that it will wonder the head of a family enemy who is not him inside his head will distinguish between voice and providence voice, him in endurance who when is talking to him how in the speaker phone and to peel it talks and? Probably answer back. The enemy the ol'G.W and fun lovin'fratboy grudge will be good possibly, when the possibility he seeing the pair of mouth alcoholic beverage movement it is and after grudge he is the nose car inside 1970's lapse it will roast his mind and it will talk and it is talking to peel, who. That it happens possibility it was it?
And here's the classic Pink Floyd Track, Shine On You Crazy Diamond from English to Chinese and back again.
Remembers works as you are young, you shone have liked the sun. Shines in your crazy diamond. Now has the look in yours eye, likes black hole in the sky bright in your crazy diamond. You are in fashion the childhood and stardom exchange fire, blow in the steel breeze. Comes to aim in you is the remote laughter, comes in your stranger, your legend, you persecute, with shines! You too very quickly arrived are the secret, you sob are the moon. Bright in your crazy diamond. By the shadow threat in the evening, with exposes in the light. Bright in your crazy diamond. You have used up your welcome by the free precision, has ridden in the steel breeze. Comes in your raver, your vision viewer, comes in your painter, you play the flute, your prisoner, with bright!

George Bush can't tell the difference between...

The voices in his head and the voice of God. And we all should be worried. Very worried. Not least when you begin to wonder... If he can't distinguish between the voices in his head and the voice of God, how on earth can he tell when someone is talking to him on speakerphone?

Perhaps that's the answer. Maybe little ol' G.W, fun lovin' fratboy done good, baked his mind so much on Cocaine back in the 70's that he can't tell who's talking unless he can see a pair of lips moving.

Could it be that?

Maybe, who knows...


Happy New Haircut.

Perhaps it's merely my imagination running away, and lets be honest here that wouldn't be a first, but when I left to open up at the club this morning it was a bright, sunny morning and it was warm. Not tropical warm, I'd be kidding myself if I said that, but warm enough not to warrant wearing a hooded parka and having a team of huskies handy.

Even as I walked along the road to the barbers it was pleasant enough. The sky was a clear blue and there was a summery feeling to the day.

While I sat in the barbers chair I gazed into the mirror and watched the reflection of the world pass by outside. As the barber trimmed my hair he began to make small talk. "Day off today, is it?" He enquired.
"No, I'm working at 6." I answered.
"What do you do?" He asked.
I replied to him that I was a barman but due to a large truck passing by the shop window he misheard me and said "Army, Eh."
I couldn't be bothered with straightening the mistake out and said yes.
"Are you based at Dreghorn Barracks then?"
"Yes but only for tonight, we've got a black ops situation to deal with in Belize and the squad is stationed there at the moment." I said, hoping that he'd shut up and cut my hair quickly so I could laugh out loud rather than in my head. He continued cutting and asked a few more questions. I answered them with quick replies of "I can't tell you anything more." , "Op-sec, you understand." and, my favorite, "Sorry, National Security."

After he finished cutting my hair I pulled on my hat and walked towards the door. I opened the door and a gust of cold wind blew into the shop. It was freezing and I said "Fuck me, that's cold." To which the barber said, "I bet it'll be warmer in Belize. Have a nice time."

Call off the search.

It is with great pleasure that I announce my survival after a trip to Asdas.

It was close for a second though. At one point I had to face the grim possibility of having to drink my own urine after getting lost in the dairy section. If it wasn't for a passing fur trader I may have perished next to the perishables. Luckily I kept a diary of my adventure and expect it to be published in the new year. The working title I have for the book is "Dessert aisleland."

The book should be filled with high adventure as the story unfolds. There now follows a sample chapter just to whet your appetite in the vain hope that you'll buy a copy and recommend it to all your friends...
I am faced with the possibility that I am stranded here in this vast and somewhat chilly land. Fortunately there is abundant supplies of yoghurt and pineapples to keep me sustained until I can fashion a rudimentary knife to allow me to build traps to capture whatever wild animals live in this vast wasteland.

The local tribe seem to be somewhat docile and unable to speak English. They wear strange green colored cloth and look as though they have only learned to walk upright within the last few months. I am certain I'm dealing with life forms who are on the lower end of the evolutionary scale. They almost remind me of the McDonalds tribe whom I remember from my old life. The similarity is uncanny.

When I attempt to communicate with them, by using the Queens English, I am met with blank stares of incomprehension and strange guttural noises. At times, some of the sounds they use to communicate seem to resemble English, though perhaps this is because I am becoming weak minded and have begun to hallucinate. I'm sure one of the tribe said the word "Exit" to me but when I asked the male tribe member, who had uttered the word, to repeat it all I got was incomprehensible nonsense and a panicked look upon the face of the beast.

Their religion is strange in that they worship a voice which emanates from holes in the sky. An audible chime, which I presume is their version of a Christian society's church bells or a Muslim call to prayer, comes suddenly and unexpectedly and all around me the local tribe gaze to the heavens and listen in awe. When the Gods have spoken a second, lower pitched, chime is heard and the locals heads drop back to the ground upon which they stand and sacred words are uttered. The words, which I will attempt to recreate here using phonetic English, are "Puh-Rice-tch-Ek."
The Tour accompanying the launch of the limited edition hardback, with foreword by survival expert Ray Mears, should begin around about the first of April 2006.



I got an E-Mail from my mother in which she asked me to send her a picture of myself.

Knowing my mum so well I whipped off a reply asking if it was "an attempt to set me up with someone [she] bumped into at Sainsburys or is it another one of [her] I just wanted to remind myself of what you look like things?"

To which I got the reply...

"That made me laugh... It's a bit of both really."

Is that frightening to anyone else on the planet? Or is it just me? Surely I'm not the only person that thinks that's a bit mad of her. Please, show some sympathy, some feeling, tell me I'm not alone in thinking this.

Mothers, Gotta love em. Even if they are, at times, the bane of your existence.

If I'm not back in a day, call for help.

Today I'll be putting myself into a situation which will cause me no end of stress.

I'm off to Asda, or Wal-mart to all the Americans who are reading this like to call it, this morning and I can tell it's going to be as much fun as having a large cacti forced into my lower intestine.

It's hell on earth to me. Asda is chock full of annoying things... Whiney workers, surly staff and people who know me from the club that I work in. All of which will serve to get on my nerves to the point of despair.

Though this time it should be a little easier on me as I have written a list. Usually I don't write down what it is I'm going shopping for, but for once I've figured that it may be easier on my stress levels if I know what I want and can plan my way around the store before I get there.

I have my route around the store mapped out, from store entrance to store exit, so meticulously that I reckon the SAS could do my shopping as though it was a raid on the Iranian Embassy.

Wish me luck.

(I wonder where I can get half a dozen flash-bang grenades and an armalite... Just in case it gets messy and I have to get into some wet-work to save myself...)

I've no idea why...

But today, for some reason, my eyeballs have felt like they were soaked overnight in a glass of piss. And not healthy looking clear piss either, oh no. You know the cloudy piss you get, when you've had a good old fashioned drinking session and your liver hurts the next morning, that's the kind of piss I'm talking about.

People commented that I looked like I'd slept on a park bench and had tramps for drinking partners last night when I went into work today. And I hadn't. I wouldn't have minded so much if I had been drinking in the graveyard at 3am with Stinky Bert and Gordon Grott to keep me company for the evening.

Perhaps it's the hours of staring at this damned computer screen that causes my eyes to adopt the I-just-saw-someone-kill-a-fluffybunny look that female executives, who want to develop their people skills by going on an outdoors weekend, get previous to realizing that Mr Floppsy Wopsy is all there is to eat.

Then again it could be the fact that my monitor is as close to fucked as you can get. There's a fuzzy look to the centre of the screen and my eyes are constantly straining to read what's on the screen before me.

So in order to give my eyes a bit of a rest I'm off to bed.


It's art, for fucks sake.

The world famous Scottish artist Jack Vettriano was yesterday accused of some kind of heinous crime, when the story of his alleged use of images from artists manuals to create his works surfaced.

I'm not quite sure what all the brouhaha is about.

Who gives a good god damn where an artist gets his inspiration, it's what he puts out that matters. It's not as though what he did was hack a sheep in half and lob it into some preserving fluid, ala Damien Hurst, or made a montage of Campbells soup tins, ala Andy Warhol, now is it?

Vettriano's works may well, to the snobs at the Scottish Academy, be unexciting and not deserving of the praise being of being displayed at one of Scotlands finest galleries, but to many people his art is fine enough to grace their livingroom wall. And that's the measure of good art to me.

It's also more than likely that it's also the measure of good art to Jack Vettriano.


Well, shirt on me.

The competition to win a T-Shirt designed by me was won by Karen today and I still have no idea what to put onto the damned thing.

If anyone has a suggestions please feel free to leave a comment.

Or, if Karen would like to choose a T-Shirt from one of these three links I'll be glad to supply any one of them to her.

Competition winner.

And the winner is...


Please mail me with your details so I can arrange getting your shirt to you.

Recent Listening & Reading.

A list of what I have been listening to this last week or so...
  • U2. The Joshua Tree.
  • James Brown. Soul & Funky.
  • Jamiroquai. A Funk Odyssey.
  • Travis. The Man Who.
  • Nirvana. Nevermind.
  • Zero 7. Another Late Night.
  • Swingers. Vol 1 & 2.
  • The Eagles. Hotel California.
  • Mike Oldfield. Tubular Bells II.
  • Neil Young. Harvest.
  • Bob Marley & The Wailers. Legend.
  • Collective Soul. Blender.
  • American Music Club. California.
  • American Music Club. Mercury.
And a list of what I've been reading this week.
  • Monty Pythons Flying Circus. The Complete Unexpurgated Scripts of the Original TV Series.
And also a list of what I books I plan on reading as and when I have the time spare.
  • Wilbur Smith. Blue Horizon.
  • Stephen E. Ambrose. Citizen Soldiers.
  • Richard Adams. Maia.
  • Graham Phillips. Act of God.
  • Frederick Forsyth. Avenger.
A special thanks is due to Karen for getting me to dig out the American Music Club CD's.

Ever closer.

Since I announced that I'm going to give away a prize to the 10,000th visitor to this site I guess I better post the total number of hits so far.


I also better get on with designing the shirt I said I'd do for the eventual winner.

*Note* The winner of this competition must send me a screenshot with the statcounter showing 10,000 hits and details of where to send the shirt.


How to...

Offend a Christian.

Post stuff like the comments I've made on this blog. Specifically things like this.

Moto GP result.

Valentino Rossi sealed yet another victory today when he won the Qatar GP.

Second place was taken by Marco Melandri and third was taken by Nicky Hayden.

Speaking after the race Valentino Rossi Commented;
"What a race! For me that was the best of the season, it was so much fun. I had bad memories from this circuit from last year so I really wanted to win and after practice yesterday I knew it was not impossible. I had two great rivals and all three of us showed that we were in very good shape until the end. We gave more than 100% and had a fantastic battle from the beginning to the end. I have to thank Yamaha and my whole team because my bike was very fast over the final few laps, which it needed to be because Marco Melandri was very strong and we had a great battle. He tried to pass me on the last lap but I was able to hold on and win - my tenth of the season. I am very, very happy."
Rossi's win and Colin Edwards fourth place sealed the team championship for Gauloises Yamaha. Gauloises Yamaha Team director Davide Brivio commented;
"Today we saw a fantastic race, scored another victory and won another title so of course we are delighted. Valentino clearly wanted to win the race after what happened last year and he came out on top of another incredible battle, so congratulations to him. Colin finished in fourth place, which is not what he had hoped for, but he scored some important points and closed the gap to second in the championship so we are happy for him. The team have worked extremely well since Thursday, finding the right set-up for both bikes early in the weekend and then just fine-tuning for the race. We've won the Teams' Championship today and both riders have contributed to this, so congratulations to everybody. Both Valentino and Colin like Phillip Island so now we all looking forward to going to Australia in two weeks."


Moto GP Qatar.

This weekends Moto GP race takes place at the Losail circuit in Qatar later today.

Loris Capirossi sealed his third consecutive pole position with a lap time of 1'56.917 just .077 seconds ahead of last years race winner Sete Gibernau. Valentino Rossi took third place on the grid followed closely by his team mate Colin Edwards.

The Moto GP title may be all done and dusted but second place is still being fought for by five different riders so expect a fast and furious festival of speed.