What a Cnut.

Minding my own business... When a bloke with a clipboard stopped me and said "Can I ask you a question." "You just did." I replied. "I don't understand." He said. "You just asked me a question by asking if you could ask me a question." I stated. "Ahh, err..." He stammered. "You should have said; Can I ask you a couple of questions ." I said, reeling him in like a fish. "OK then. Can I ask you a couple of questions?" He said. "You just have." I said. "I don't get your meaning." He replied. "Well, you asked me if you could ask me a question and then you asked me if you could ask me a couple of questions. A couple is generally accepted to be two of something so by rights you've asked me a couple of questions. You should have said; Can I ask you a few questions." I said. "OK, can I ask you a few questions?" He said. "You just have." I replied, struggling not ...

It's not rocket science. It's an answering machine. That's all. Just a wee machine that answers my phone when I'm not here so whomever is calling can leave a message saying that they called and could I get back in touch whenever I have a chance on whatever phone number. So, having established these facts can someone explain to me why the hell no-one seems to be able to grasp the concept? I got in tonight to find "You Have 16 messages" flashing on my machine and not one message to go with aforementioned messages. Do me a favour, if you call me and get my answering machine, LEAVE A MESSAGE!

Jesus H Christos, This place is doing my head in. More than usual. And that's quite an achievement when you consider how much I hate this place. In all honesty I would be more productive at home job hunting than I am here. If it's not the computers running so slow that they make a Sinclair ZX Spectrum look like Deep Blue it's the broadband not being able to handle the amount of people checking their Bebo, Facespace or Mybook sites. "Ho, Sandra, I've just messaged you on facespace! Gonnae check it and reply to me!" I shrug my shoulders and shake my head wondering why it is that Coco The Cunt thinks that the Internet should be used to send someone a message when she can easily write it on a piece of paper, make a paper airplane and whip it across the room with more ease. Perhaps it's because Coco the Cunt can't spell worth a fuck and the computer does a spell check... At the moment I'm sitting in the corridor typing away as all the chairs in the Posi...

On this site . If you have always had a hankering to see the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the Sydney Opera House from a few thousand feet above the harbour or have wanted to see what Niagara Falls looks like I'd recommend that you do. * The technology behind these stunning images was invented by a bloke from Edinburgh. How cool is that?

Like a cheap whore on coupon day. So I ran away, again. Like a little girl who's had her pigtails pulled one too many times and gets the fuck out so Johnny Bully can't haul her head down and hang spit balls over her. Or something like that but with a male perspective. You know what I mean so stop picking holes. I sat for about an hour or so, basking in the reek of piss, checking for possible employers who may be looking for a highly intelligent, laid back worker to destroy their business quick style but for some strange reason I couldn't find any. The decision to flee came when I went outside for a cigarette. The rain was tonking down good style and a couple of hundred yards away was the warmth of my sister in laws barber shop. Fuck it, I thought, I'm off to get my hair cut. After killing a half hour or so while my sister in law cut my hair I pondered whether or not I should go back to the piss stinking hole or do one down to a coffee shop where I can surf the net witho...

The TV was broadcasting static and the only sound in the room was the hissing white noise issuing from the speakers. I couldn't be sure how long I had been asleep as the numbers on the readout of my digital alarm clock kept changing, one second it was showing the time as 01:06 and the next it was showing 19:68. I groped for the switch to the angle poise lamp at the side of my bed but found that it was missing. Not the lamp. Just the switch. “What the…” I thought, for a fraction of a second but it slid quickly from my mind. I was somewhat confused. The normal thought process was somehow liquid in its composition. My thoughts seemed to be like eels, hard to get a grip on. My attention was dragged back to the digital readout of the alarm clock. The numbers were still unsure of what time it was supposed to be. Had I been drinking? I thought, looking around for an empty bottle. No evidence was immediately visible. Drugs then? Once more nothing lead me to believe that I’d been on a chemi...

I've been accepted on a creative writing course at Stevenson College in Edinburgh. So wish me luck as I'll be a mature student soon.

Takk - Sigur Ros . Let Sigur Ros take your hand and guide you to where the mock turtles live, where The Mad Hatter has tea with the sleepy dormouse and where Alice found that sometimes all is not as it seems. This album conjures up images in your mind of flight across barren Icelandic wastelands where deep fissures scar the earth, sulphurous pools form and molten rock bubbles to the surface. An ambient dreamscape made real, this album is a joy to listen to and should be in everyone's collection. Grace. Jeff Buckley . Possibly one of the best albums ever made. Containing lapel grabbing hard rock and mind blowing moments of melodic musemanship, Grace encapsulates the dichotomy of being human and makes it into music for the soul. Anger, joy, peace, hatred and love all play their part in this album. Leaves you feeling like you have been through the whole of human expression in a second spanning a lifetime. Gone too soon, like so many who deserved to live, Jeff Buckley lives on in this ...

Please Leave the building by the nearest exit... Mind the step...

Overlooked by Castle Ahnuddaman, the village of N'at Aindookool sat in a lush green valley where faeries, goblins, pixies and humans lived together in peace. Cho, an apprentice wizzard sat in his favourite chair watching the sunrise over the mountaintops and wondered about the big things in life. "Why does the sun always rise over the mountain in the same place and set in the same place at the other side of the valley?", "Why are the unicorns disappearing from the magic forest?", and "What ever is that noise?" Cho stood up and walked in the direction of the noise that had disturbed his train of thought. As he rounded the corner and entered the small square at the centre of the village, instead of the usual sight of the market place, Cho saw a large crowd gathered around a strange looking contraption that was pinging, plonking and gurgling. "Make way for the Wizzard!" Shouted Cho, pushing through the crowd of onlookers. "Apprentice Wizzar...

Or the right to arm bears... In the US constitution it states something like "You have the right to bear arms." Which is fair enough until you look into exactly what constitutes "Arms" and give at least some consideration to exactly how high up on the evolutionary scale YOU are. The trigger happy troupe will more than happily tell you that they have a "God given right" to buy, own and use guns. From small, sleek and sexy fit-in-your-gucci firearms to huge and horrendous handguns like Harry's favorite fucker-upper the .357 Magnum and yet more will argue that they have the right to purchase automatic armalite assassin apparatus like the type used by the military. The problem with this is that there is no test to see if you should be allowed to own any of these highly dangerous deadly weapons. And this is sadly where the whole house of cards comes a'tumbling down. As has been stated by many a person, some quite rational as well as the downright nuttie...

Perhaps you can answer it. The question is; "When did we start pandering to namby pamby arseholes?" The reason I ask is that I stumbled across this story in the online edition of the Guardian newspaper today... A TV ad for a shoot-em-up video game has been banned for "encouraging and condoning violence". The ad for the Stranglehold game, which is rated 18+, had been cleared for broadcast after 7.30pm by Clearcast, the former Broadcast Advertising Clearance Centre. The ad showed a prolonged shoot-out between four men and the voiceover stated: "Honour is his code. Vengeance is his mission. Violence is his only option." The ad attracted two complaints to the Advertising Standards Authority, one from the parent of a three-year-old boy who viewed it before the 9pm watershed. The other viewer complained that the ad glorified violence and gun crime. The producer of the ad, the Picture Production Company, argued that it had edited the footage to ensure bullets we...

I have once more decided to dip my toe in the waters of satire having got back into writing for thespoof.com where I shall be posting parody headlines and spoof stories as often as I can. As regular readers of this blog I expect you all to show your support for me by winging your way to here and having a read at my spoof stories .

You can? Good. Why not surf your way over to google current and see what the world is doing now.

And have it kicked into touch with this fun test . I did.

One of the advantages of having a chest infection is the opportunity to make the edges of your vision blur through the ingestion of powerful cough medicines. So today I took a wander along to the local chemist where I bought a bottle of the strongest linctus I could lay my hands on without a prescription from a Doctor. After a few questions from the pharmacist about what kind of cough I had, (My answer; Cough, Hack, Cough, Hack, Wheeze, Turn red in the face, Curse loudly, "That kind.") I was sold a bottle of Meltus for chesty coughs. I staggered homeward and retired back to the bosom of my warm bed to attempt to knock this chest infection into touch. As I perused the directions on the box I noticed that it didn't say anything about not exceeding the dose. This I took to mean " Drink the whole damn thing ." So I popped the box open, unscrewed the cap of the bottle and knocked back the contents in one feel swoop, despite the fact that it tasted exactly like I woul...

Around about the time the weather in Scotland turns cold my chest decides that I don't appreciate the ability to breathe as much as I should and gives me a stinking chest infection. Green lumps of phlegm are lodged in the top of my lungs, my chest begins to feel like someone has set about it with a brillo pad and industrial bleach, the hair on my head hurts, I daren't shave, my head pounds like I'd been out on the randan and I'm sweating like an inexperienced drug mule on his way through customs with enough illegal drugs up his jacksie to make Amy Winehouse, Pete Docherty and Courtney Love pass out through sheer joy. At these times it is best for all if I do not venture out the house as my patience is seriously limited and I am easily annoyed. So for today, and the rest of the weekend, I shall be taking to my bed with a bottle of cough mixture and a bucket to hawk my lugies into. *Update* It's now a good twelve hours later... My joints have begun to ache like I am...

Prepare to be politicized... So, you're born as free as the birds, without prejudice or any preconceived notions about life. Then one day you realise that you, for no good reason, are pwned . Sure, you deny it with the core of your being, you rail against this statement, but one day you'll wake up and realise that you, my friend are being bought and sold down the river day after day after day after day after day. "But I'm not a slave!" You shout into the void, but, like it or not you are... A commodity to the collective consciousness of corporations; You are; Owned by the overlords of oppression; You are; A national insurance number; You are; A social security number; You are... A bank account; A credit card; And a wage slave . In short you are nothing more than a bag of blood to the leeches who suck you dry day by day by day... So, what do you do? Do you bow down to the boss? Or do you take arms and fight? Well, generally you do neither. You do what we all do, y...

It's not something I do often but today was an exception. I woke up after about three hours sleep and decided that I'd slept enough, that my life was being wasted in the land of nod and that I should venture out into the chill of the morning air and go into town where I could people watch for a few hours before going to A4E in the afternoon. After a quick shower and getting dressed I got my shit together and headed for the bus-stop at the top of my road. About ten minutes later I stepped of the bus at Lothian Road and headed for somewhere warm to pass the time. There was many choices but the one that I selected was a coffee house where I know the manager. I walked in, ordered a coffee and sat down to take in the atmosphere around me. Despite being the place I take the piss out the most I realised that Edinburgh is actually quite a metrosexual city. The people in the coffee house were having lively conversations about world affairs, music and the arts and were also very well inf...

But today I finally got my arse into gear and decided that it's about time I emptied all the guff from my computer and uploaded them to mediafire. Doing this will allow me to reinstall the operating system and hopefully speed up this dinosaur of a thing that I use. I'm not kidding when I say that if it was any slower it'd be considered retarded and could qualify for the computer version of the special Olympics. The only bad thing about doing this is that I'm still connecting using dial-up and it takes an age to upload anything. But, I'm nothing if not persistent and will get it done somehow.

I've become something of a desktop fiend and have decided that I should share with you the wonderful images I have had on my desktop this week. Water on a leaf. Water on glass. Bart Simpson does Nevermind. The MV Augusta F4 Senna. Water Droplets. Lamborghini Gallardo Superleggera. Hi Def Art. Ice covered spider web. Image courtesy www.onlyhereforthecricket.com

I've decided to get back into writing my comedy book. Fuck knows if I'll ever finish it but I'm sure enjoying the process.

The BBC news website published a list of 100 things we didn't know last year so I have decided to list them here with my own little addendum's. 1. Coach travel is the safest form of road transport in the country. * Unless you are in the UK in which case it's quicker to walk. 2. Saddam Hussein's codename while in US custody in 2004/5 was "Victor". * The guards assigned to him made him say "I don't bloody believe it." on a regular basis. 3. Adding milk to tea negates the health-giving effects of a hot brew. * Pissing in it makes it taste worse also. 4. The word "jaywalking" came from the US slang "jay", a term popular in the early 20th Century meaning a rustic newcomer unfamiliar with city ways. * These days rustic newcomers are called "Hippies" 5. Cloudy apple juice is healthier than clear, containing almost double the antioxidants which protect against heart disease and cancer. * Most apples never get heart disease....

The snow was coming down hard, I was taking refuge from it in a bookshop doorway, and he was wearing nothing but a t-shirt and jeans. "Huv ye got a light?" He asked me in a broad Geordie accent. That explained the t-shirt and jeans thing on a day where the temperature was cold enough for it to be snowing. Watch any football match involving Newcastle United and I can guarantee that you'll see at least half the crowd is naked from the waist up no matter where the match is being held. "Sure man." I said, digging into my pocket and getting my zippo out. He lit his cigarette and handed me my lighter back. "Are ya from Edinburgh like?" He enquired, obviously seeking some form of reply. "Aye man." I said, my accent thickening the way it does when you're talking to someone who isn't a resident of your country. "It's a nice place like. Bit fookin hilly though." He said, drawing deep on his cigarette. "That's probably due...

So it's new year and around the world people are making resolutions to lose weight, exercise more, give up smoking or whatever bullshit they'll not stick to for more than a couple of weeks. Personally my resolution is not to make any resolutions that I'll break quicker than Michael Jackson when he promised not to fuck children after that whole Geordy Chandler thing. I'll not be giving up smoking, despite my mother pleading that I do, I'll stick to the diet plan that has kept me going for 36 years, and the only exercise I'll engage in is the "where's the remote control" hunt.

If you are the type of person who is concerned about global warming please allow me to dispel your fears with the following screed. Scientists tell us that the planet is getting warmer by the minute and to be fair they're probably right. They are, after all, scientists and are on the whole more informed on the subject than yours truly. And that's to be expected when you consider that I left school with an "O" level in art, a BCG and the recommendation that I prepare myself for a life of enquiring "Do you want fries with that?" However I'd like to let you all in on something that the scientists, or more specifically the global media machine, fails to let you in on. The planet is doing just fine. During the many millions of years it has been sliding through space, at speeds the normal human mind can't grasp, the planet has survived through ice ages that were nothing more to it than a cold is to man [1] , and warm periods that were nothing more to it t...