For the joi de vivre,

If the last line of this little ditty doesn't make you laugh...

Then you may be clinically dead.

She Loves You - Peter Sellers and Spike Milligan.

Laughter is contagious...

See if you're infected by watching this video...


I lasted about a minute.

Rest in peace...

"May the forces of evil become distracted on the way to your house."
George Carlin.

Wherever you are man, I hope it's better than here.
But not too nice because then you'd have nothing to complain about.
And that'd be a cunt of a place for you.

"When the time is ready I shall send my only son to the earth to show them how to laugh."

The Grand Whazoo.*

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And lo it came to pass that The Grand Whazoo did send his only son to earth. And you can join him in his quest to make the world giggle by joining him by clicking here.

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Family Friendly.
No service charge.
Tuesday is ladies night.
Special drinks promotions all week.
Happy hour all day.
Students of philosophy welcome.
Biker friendly.
No Scientists.
Please tip your waitress.
***************************************

*During an acceptance speech for "Best god in a humourous role" award during the realm of gods, deitys and martyrs awards ceremony held at the Valhalla Holiday Inn. **

**(Tell them Marty sent you for a special reduction in rates.)

You might be a redneck....

We'd stopped to fill up the cars as we drove from Tampa to Miami. My sister was driving one car and my dad was driving the other. I'd been designated gas monkey so I filled the car that my dad was in and then began to fill the other car. Sarah rolled down the window of the car and began speaking in a redneck accent.

"If'n y'all clean ma windshield I'mma gonna give y'all a dollah." She said.
"A whole dollah? Why I'd do damn neah anythang for a dollah missy." I replied.
"Well if'n y'all clean ma windshield wif yo boobs I'mma give you five dollahs and if you jump up on heah and clean ma windshield wif yo ass I'mma gonna give y'all ten dollahs."

From there on in it continued...

"Hoo-eee missy. I'd like to introduce y'all to ma wife and sistah. That's her right over theah."
"Mah little girl is so talented, she can sing real good out both her mouths."
"I got's me three kids, one of each."
"I'm real proud of my kids, I'm always asking them to gimme six."

When the gas pump finished I went into the store to buy a pack of cigarettes. Sarah pulled the car in behind the other car and as I passed I knocked on the passenger window. Cousin Angie rolled the window down and I spoke.

"A'hm real sorry missy but ah caint do y'all windscreen. Mah mantitties are lactatin."

There's something disturbingly funny about this...

As much as it's wrong to make fun of those less fortunate...

It can be fucking hilarious.

Things I want to do on my holibobs.

This is a growing list of things I associate with the USA and would like to do while in Florida.

Whether I manage them or not is another thing.

• Wrestle a Gator.
• Go to the ghetto.
• Attend a baseball game.
• Watch CNN for 12 hours straight.
• Attend a Gospel Church.
• Visit a mall.
• Do a drive by.*
  
• Sample Moonshine.
• See a Tornado.
• Visit a trailer park.
• Watch the Shuttle Launch.
  

Should any of you lot out there have any suggestions please feel free to leave a comment.

* Just kidding.

The Man came to visit me last week...

That's right. The Man...

He who maketh our lives a misery by imposing rules we must adhere to and boundaries that we must not cross. He of absolutes and certainties. He who rules with dark and sinister forces. He who watches us via CCTV, records our communications and has us by the balls...

He came in the guise of an elderly gentleman in sensible shoes, corduroy trousers, shirt and tie. At once I saw through this cunning attempt to look human. No normal member of society wears shoes, socks and corduroy exactly the same shade of brown.

His face, slightly ruddy from a lifetime of tanking booze to kill the pain of being a Judas to The Grand Whazoo, was covered in a grey flecked beard. A sure sign of Evil.

"Mr Douglas?" The Beast spake, sulphurous fumes emitting from his cakehole.
"Who's asking?" I enquired.
"My name is Man, James Man, I'm here from (Company name removed on advise of lawyer) and I'm here to pole you." Baal replied, flashing an identity card.
"Pole me? What did I do? Don't I get to plead my case in court?" I enquired, panic taking over.
"I think you misunderstand me. Poll as in survey."
"Oh, right. Err, you better come in then..."

The Dark Lord sat on my leather recliner and made himself comfortable.

"So..." I thought, "That's his game is it? Sneak up on me while I am somewhat stoned, take the comfy chair and poll me when I least expect it... Well, I'm onto him."

Beelzebub took out a laptop and began punching keys (to no doubt summon his haxor hoards to begin their wireless take over of all my electronic equipment) so I bolted for the kitchen (under the pretense of making a cup of tea) and killed the power to the house by jamming a screwdriver into the toaster and pushing the lever down. Blammo! went the toaster as I jumped backwards in surprise.

I returned to the living room to find Moloch pretending to be making himself comfortable. I suspected that while I had been away he had been planting devices to enable remote viewing of my house but couldn't spot any visible signs of anything having been moved. "He's Good..." I thought as I sat on the sofa and made eye contact with him.

I was determined not to show any weakness, lest he pounce and suck my soul out through my eyeballs, so I stared into his ice pit eyes and told him (via telepathy) that I wasn't any ones bitch.

As the Demogorgon fired off questions I smoked a joint and answered as best as I could without revealing that I knew his plan. He didn't seem to notice so I began sliding in questions about him.
"Travelled far?" I enquired.
"Not really, I was in Fife earlier today." It answered.
"I'll bet you were... I always said that lot were closer to the devil than to god" I said.
Belphegor looked at me quizzically, obviously to hide the fact that he knew that I knew who he really was, and shifted slightly in his seat.

"How was the weather?" I asked, hoping he would make a mistake and say "Firey with a brimstone tinge to it..." instead of the standard answer of "Pissing down."
"A bit dreek." He replied, throwing in the Fifer word for wet to further his disguise.

"Are you from Fife yourself?" I questioned.
"Originally no, but I've lived there for almost 30 years now." The Vengeful One replied.
"Where are you from originally?" I posed.
"New Zealand."
"North or South Island?"
"South."
"North South Island or South South Island?"
"South South Island."
"South East South Island or South West South Island?"
"South West South Island."

"When you emigrated you didn't travel far."
"I beg your pardon." The Demon answered, attempting to look puzzled.
"Dunedin." I said.
"I'm not sure I follow."

I knew I had him.

"I take it you know of the town of Dunedin, after all you did grow up around there." I stated.
"Yes, I grew up just outside of Dunedin. But what's that got to do with anything?" It asked.
"And you moved to Fife which is just outside Edinburgh, or Dunedin as it was known centuries ago." I said.
"I had no idea Edinburgh was called Dunedin." It claimed.

My trap had sprung the demon.

"No-one from Fife doesn't know that Edinburgh was called Dunedin!" I shouted as I reached for the cricket bat I use as a doorstop.

The, supposedly, aged demon suddenly sprang from the seat and made a break for the front door as I scrambled for my kevlar helmet and loudhailer. The Demon struggled with the front door as I shook the cricket bat menacingly and bellowed through the loudhailer. "YOU HAVE NO POWER HERE DEMON! BACK TO YOUR PIT I SAY!" I yelled, protecting myself from surprise attack by jabbing towards the demon with the fat end of the cricket bat.

Suddenly the door to my flat relented and The Black Lord fled with the agility of a teenager. I gave chase along the landing as it leapt the first flight of stairs in a single bound. "BE OFF FOUL WRETCHED MONSTER!" I shouted, gesturing with the cricket bat. "COME BACK HERE AND I SHALL DANCE IN YOUR BLOOD!" I continued as the demon flew effortlessly down the flights of stairs and out of the stairway door.

I dived headlong back into my hallway and kicked the front door shut with a trailing leg. I sprung to my feet and made for the living room window. Outside the demon was looking up at me so I whipped open the window and let loose with as many curses as I could think of.

"A POX UPON YOU AND YOUR DEMONIC SPAWN!" I yelled through the loudhailer.
"MAY YOUR SEED FALL ON BARREN GROUND AND YOUR BALLS ROT LIKE PEACHES IN THE SUN!" I continued.
"FUCK OFF OUT OF HERE OR I'LL FORCE-FEED YOU THE BLACKENED RAISINS YOU HAVE THE CHEEK TO CALL TESTES!" I yaulped.
"BE GONE FROM THESE GROUNDS FOR THESE ARE THE HOLY LANDS OF THE GRAND WHAZOO! I shouted as the demon ran for his car.

I don't think he'll be back.

There I was...

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 to laugh.
"I'm confused." He said.
"Well, firstly you asked me if you could ask me a question, then you asked me if you could ask me a couple of questions and you've just asked me if you could ask me a few questions. A few is generally accepted as three so by rights you've already asked me a few questions." I stated.

"Aha! Can I ask you some questions." He said, thinking he had figured out a way to ask me whatever the hell it was he wanted to know in the first place.

"No." I said. And walked away.

Mondegreen inspired story...

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 Wizzard!" Shouted a person from the crowd. Reminding Cho that, since the tragic death of his master, his Wizzardly had training came to a halt and would never be resumed due to the laws governing the training of a wizzard.

(Royal Lore five; [subsection three, special clause two, amendment one] clearly states "Should a master Wizzard die; Be killed, accidentally scatter his particles, or be dispatched to the dungeon dimensions through the error of not knowing the difference between a teaspoon and a tablespoon; his apprentice shall not be trained by any other Wizzard, mage or witch.)

"I'm the best you've got..." Cho replied, with considerably more than a teaspoon of sarcasm.
"Only until you make a mistake with one of your spells!" Said another voice in the crowd. Reminding Cho, once again, that his Wizzardly training had lasted exactly four hours, fifteen minutes and twenty-three seconds when his master had mixed considerably more than a teaspoon of sulphur with the rest of the ingredients in the large cauldron and had vanished in a puff of smoke accompanied by a squelching noise.

Cho walked over to the contraption that was clanking and grinding and saw that the local blacksmith had his head inside the machine. Cho quickly grabbed the back of the blacksmith’s heavy apron and pulled him clear.

"Careful Mr Smith, that thing could have had your head off." Said Cho as he dragged Mr Smith the blacksmith backwards.

Mr Smith the blacksmith pulled off the safety glasses he was wearing and revealed two soot stained rings around his eyes. "I doubt that very much Cho, I built this machine and there is absolutely no danger whatsoever." Said Mr Smith.

Just as Mr Smith finished his sentence the contraption made a pinging noise and a large piece of metal sprung out of the machine at exactly the place where Mr Smiths head had been a few seconds previously. Had his head still been in the same place Mr Smith would have very quickly found he no longer had a need for a hat stand.

"What is it?" Cho asked.
"I call it a Carambulator." Mr Smith replied.
"And what does it do?" Cho posed.
"It's a device that allows people to go from one place to another." Mr Smith answered.
"Are legs being banned by Royal order?" Cho asked, wondering if the king had had another one of his turns and was in the process of banning something people really needed.

Mr Smith wandered off in the direction that the piece of metal that had flew out of the car had shot off in and Cho decided that as the noise had now gone he could go home and get back to his deep thinking.

Later that evening Cho was sat beside the fire when there came a knock at the door. Cho got up and walked to the door, pulled it open and found a royal messenger standing there with a scroll of paper in his hand. "A message from His Royal Highness for you Wizzard." The messenger said, handing the scroll to Cho.

Cho opened the message and read it.

"By Royal proclamation it is decided that the Wizzard Cho Senwan shall be made Royal champion and as such shall deal with the problem of the Dragon M'eye O'Laydy attacking Castle Ahnuddaman and the village N'at Aindookool. Failure shall result in the Wizzard Cho Senwan being burnt at the stake, or eaten, whichever should come first."

It said.

The Royal messenger bowed gracefully to Cho and walked backwards to where his horse had been tied to a small tree stump a few feet away. Cho sighed, knowing that the Dragon M'eye O'Laydy was trouble with a capital TROUBLE and knowing that he had only four hours, fifteen minutes and twenty-three seconds of Wizzard training to go on.

The rest of that evening Cho sat thinking how exactly he was going to kill a large and fearsome Dragons who could breathe fire and could bite a fully grown oak tree in half like it was nothing more than a matchstick. No ideas came to Cho and the more he thought the more he worried that he was going to die very soon.

The next day Cho read as many of the Wizzard books that his former master had collected before his squelchy ending. None of the books made any sense to him at all. The lack of Wizzardly knowledge was a decided handicap when it came to reading Wizzard books as they contained Wizzard words and Cho had no idea of what they meant.

The only spell that his former master had begun to teach Cho was the spell that had resulted in his masters’ squelchy demise. Fortunately Cho remembered every ingredient. Unfortunately Cho also remembered the outcome of mixing those same ingredients.

Later in the night Cho fell sleep on top of the pile of books. And dreamed.

He awoke several hours later with an idea. The spell his master had begun to teach him was the perfect thing to deal with the Dragon M'eye O'Laydy if he could find some way to get the dragon to mix together the right chemicals and add too much sulphur. And that was where the idea fell short. Dragons were not known for their ability as chemists, they were more known for their ability to breathe fire and eat people.

As Cho thought of how he could use the only spell he knew to its full potential another idea struck him. He could mix the chemicals together, with the exception of the sulphur and somehow add the sulphur later. But how?

In the end he realised that if the chemical compound was premixed and stored in a container and the sulphur was kept separate in a glass globe he could throw the container into the dragons lair. When the container struck something hard enough to break the glass globe the device would explode and the dragon would disappear as quickly as his master had.

A few weeks later Cho had managed to source all the different materials he needed for the magical container and had carefully put the device together. The next day he took his device and carried it towards the dragons’ lair. As he walked through the Town Square Mr Smith the blacksmith saw Cho and asked him what it was that he was carrying very carefully. "I call it a gone." Cho replied, "It makes things disappear very quickly."

Legend has it that Cho was successful in dispatching the evil dragon and that the king made him Wizzard to the Royal court for life. Cho married the kings’ daughter, they had many children and everyone lived happily ever after. A song was written about Cho and the dragon and to this day it is still sung...

Hey Cho, where you goin with that gone in your hand
I said hey Cho, where you goin with that gone in your hand?

I'm going to down to shoo M'eye O'Laydy
You know I caught it messing aroun with Ahnuddaman

I said I'm going down to shoo M'eye O'Laydy
You know I caught it messing aroun with Ahnuddaman

And N'at Aindookool.

Just because I feel like it...

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.

6. Dishcloths are purged of 99% of their bacteria during two minutes in a microwave.
* It's the 1% you need to worry about.

7. A haddock's mating call starts as a slow knocking sound, before turning into a quicker hum similar to a small motorcycle revving its engine.
* A cod's mating call is indistinguishable from the Bee Gee's song Massachusetts.

8. Newcastle is the noisiest place in England.
* It also has the highest number of idiots.

9. The people who built Stonehenge lived at an ancient village in Durrington Walls.
* They were bad neighbours and were the first people ever to be issued with an ASBO.

10. Brazil nuts are seeds encased in an outer shell that weighs more than 1kg.
* American nuts are encased in fat.

11. Astronauts wear nappies during launch and re-entry because they can't stop what they're
doing should they need to urinate.
* They wear them at home for fun too.

12. Georgic is a punishment dished out to Eton pupils which involves the copying out of hundreds of lines of Latin.
* This is the second most popular form of punishment, most public schoolboys prefer being buggered by the games master.

13. Tony Blair does not keep a personal diary.
* Alistair Campbell keeps it for him.

14. Antony and Cleopatra were ugly.
* But they still fucked like pigs on heat.

15. 10% of university work from across the UK is plagiarised.
* 90% of statistics are made up including this one.

16. Chimpanzees make their own spears for hunting.
* Gorillas make Ipods.

17. Two cups of spearmint tea a day is thought to control excessive hair growth for women.
* Welsh people are thought to fuck sheep. This doesn't mean it's true.

18. Burglar alarms, traffic wardens and crowded buses are good news for home owners, signalling an area is on the up.
* Unfortunately they also mean burglars are going to rob them while their car is being clamped and they'll be late for work because they can't get on the bus.

19. Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez hosts a daily radio phone-in show.
* The "callers" are in the studio beside him and all have guns to their heads to make sure they say nothing but good things about him.

20. More than half (52%) of smokers haven't told their parents about their habit.
* More than half of these smokers parents were also smokers and died years ago.

21. Only about half of China's population can speak the national language, Mandarin.
* The rest speak satsuma, clementine or orangina.

22. The brief flowering of the cherry blossom tree is taken so seriously in Japan that forecasts are used to plan festivals, and travel agents use them to plan tours.
* The Japanese really should get out more.

23. To be found attractive, women should sway their hips and men their shoulders (although researchers call this a "shoulder swagger").
* Or have lots of cash.

24. The are 30,000 wild parakeets in London.
* And they're planning on overthrowing the government.

25. Martina Navratilova has spent four years secretly working as an artist.
* And thirty odd years secretly being a woman.

26. Harvesting rhubarb in candlelight helps preserve its flavour.
* Shoving it up your arse makes it taste better.

27. Drinking, drug-taking teenagers are in the decline, according to a survey by the Information Centre.
* Said a coke addicted spokesman from the local public house.

28. Designer discount retailer TK Maxx is called TJ Maxx in the US.
* Well, whoop-de-fuckin-doo.

29. The average duvet is home to 20,000 live dust mites.
* And enough skin cells to recreate John Lennon.

30. Serving anything more than tea and biscuits at a political meeting is an offence called "treating" and punishable by a year in prison or an unlimited fine, under the the Representation of the People Act 1893.
* So keep your Jaffa Cakes out of politics.

31. There is mobile phone reception from the summit of Mount Everest.
* But none in Swindon. Go figure.

32. Anti-Americanism began in Paris in the 18th Century.
* Who said the French never done anything good.

33. Female civil servants in India are questioned about their menstrual cycle as part of their appraisal.
* Male civil servants are bloody cunts.

34. Kryptonite exists.
* Superman doesn't so what's the use of it?

35. Denmark is the happiest country in Europe; Italy the unhappiest. (The UK was 9th out of 15.)
* Britain was rated as the country that couldn't care less.

36. A water-tight denial by a politician – as opposed to one that leaves room for later manoeuvre - is known as a Sherman pledge. The other sort is called a non-denial denial.
* Politicians are all lying bastards.

37. Spiralling obesity rates are forcing councils to upgrade their crematoria, to take wider coffins.
* Pavarotti is still ablaze.

38. Gerry Adams doesn't own a credit card, so gets a friend to download songs from the Internet.
* He also gets his friends to blow things up for him. (He can't figure out photoshop.)

39. The secret to happiness is accepting misery.
* And marrying it.

40. A new three-bedroom house must have at least 38 plug sockets.
* And be wired by a fool.

41. There are 1,200 exhumations every year in the UK, but not all of those are part of criminal cases.
* Some are done just for fun.

42. Nearly seven out of 10 (69%) of adults are still in touch with at least one childhood friend.
* No matter how hard they try to alienate them.

43. Bernard Manning worked as an armed guard watching over senior Nazis locked up in Berlin’s Spandau prison.
* The Nazi's thought he was a bit tough on the Jews.

44. Europe has a vodka belt comprising Poland, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Finland, Denmark and Sweden, although the drink is also made in countries such as Britain, France, Italy and Spain.
* South America has a cocaine belt.

45. Domestic cats can trace their descent to the Middle East.
* Cats reunited is the second most popular website ever.

46. Peanuts can be made into diamonds.
* And boy is Charlie Brown pissed.

47. The prime ministerial Jaguar is called Pegasus.
* The prime minister is called a fat cunt.

48. You can be arrested for using someones wi-fi network without permission.
* And you can sue the owner for not knowing how to secure his network causing you to be arrested.

49. CDs were nearly called mini-racks.
* Cliff Richard was nearly called a pop star.

50. Left-handed people are called sinistral.
* And they used to be killed for being possessed by Satan.

51. Nick Clegg, the Lib Dems' new leader, once took a road trip across the US with his friend Louis Theroux.
* And yet he still claims he isn't gay.

52. There are 17 surviving versions of the Magna Carta - or 17 Magnae Cartae.
* During the 1970's they had fifteen consecutive number one hits in the charts.

53. Renowned atheist Professor Richard Dawkins likes singing Christmas carols.
* I like singing Nessun Dorma but I'm not Pavarotti.

54. The Australian town of Eucla has its own time zone.
* It's called the dark ages.

55. Books used to be bound in human skin.
* Paris Hilton couldn't bind the little book of calm.

56. Eddie Irvine is Britain's wealthiest sports star – beating the Beckhams into second place by £30m.
* Could he be allowed to beat them with a stick?

57. Sleeping on the job is tolerated in Japanese work culture, as long as you remain upright and obey certain other rules.
* Such as no snoring or talking in your sleep.

58. The Romans had roadmaps.
* Their GPS worked fine though so they had no need for them.

59. The word Blighty comes from "bilayti", the Urdu for homeland.
* The Urdu word for Vindaloo is translated into English as "For stupid drunks."

60. The Queen took her corgi on honeymoon.
* This explains Prince Charles's looks.

61. Janet and John were named Alice and Jerry in the United States.
* Who the fuck are Janet and John? And more to the point why do we care?

62. Until the late 1990s, the RAF's nuclear bombs could be activated using a bicycle lock key.
* Now they can activated by anyone with a home PC.

63. Cats can be police constables.
* But the uniform looks silly.

64. King Tut had buck teeth.
* He was also Ray Ban's first celebrity spokesman.

65. The Italian Mafia have commandments.
* Don't fuck with us.

66. Gun ownership per person in Finland is the third highest in the world.
* Guess who comes top?

67. The brain can turn down its ability to see in order to listen to complex sounds like music.
* And can distinguish between something worth listening to and the Spice Girls within a quarter of a millisecond.

68. Of the waste in UK landfills, 0.1% is plastic carrier bags.
* The rest is made up of mislaid government records.

69. Dogs occasionally shoot their owners in the US.
* Clever boy!

70. IP addresses will run out in 2010.
* And windows still won't work properly.

71. An ai is a three-toed sloth from South America (and the word that clinched Paul Allan the title of national Scrabble champion).
* He has no friends.

72. Dumbledore is gay.
* And Harry Potter is a short sighted little cunt.

73. UN population projections go as far as 2300.
* UN resolutions last as long as the USA decides to pay attention to them.

74. Sheffield FC is the world’s oldest football club.
* And still can't win anything.

75. CO2 emissions from shipping are twice the level of aviation.
* Fish contribute to this by riding Harley Davidsons.

76. George Clooney and Pierce Brosnan have had Bell's Palsy - a nerve condition that can result in paralysis on one side of the face.
* This never stopped Roger Moore either.

77. Leeches are used as treatment for cauliflower ears.
* Salmon are used to treat arachnophobia.

78. A bdelloid rotifer is a pond-dwelling organism that has survived 80 million years without sex.
* But as soon as it meets the right girl that's going to be one hell of a cloudy pond.

79. Woodwork lessons are known as "resistant materials" in schools.
* Only by the teachers. Students call it a waste of time.

80. Adults use maths skills 14 times daily on average and literacy skills 23 times a day.
* Unless you are in Texas.

81. The opening bars to the theme tune of Some Mothers Do 'Ave 'Em spelt the title of the series in Morse code.
* The closing bars to the theme spelled out "Thank fuck that's finished" in Morse code.

82. The children who sang on Pink Floyd's number one hit Another Brick in the Wall (Pt 2) couldn't appear in the video because they didn't hold Equity cards.
* Bill Wyman still managed to marry them all.

83. Jack Straw has intervened in alleged crimes four times, apprehending a person on three occasions.
* He also lost them soon afterwards.

84. On average a UK commuter travels the equivalent of two-and-a-half times around the globe over a full working career.
* And spends fifteen years stuck on a train because of leaves on the line.

85. A 23.8lb baby was born in the US in 1879, but it only survived 11 hours.
* The mother ate it.

86. There is a monastery in every village in Burma.
* And two Mcdonalds restaurants.

87. Relocating crocodiles doesn't work - they come back.
* Via local transport disguised as ticket inspectors.

88. Deep-voiced men have more children.
* The exception to the rule is Michael Jackson, he's had lots of kids too.

89. Being born without an ear is called microtia.
* Try telling the poor bugger that.

90. Chickens can be diagnosed with depression.
* Reindeer can be diagnosed as schizophrenic.

91. In Iceland, 96% of women go to university.
* 4% know what's right.

92. Zsa Zsa Gabor is related to Paris Hilton.
* And both have had more pricks than a second hand pub dartboard.

93. Dinosaurs had creches.
* And far superior shopping malls.

94. Osama Bin Laden is known to fellow jihadists as Abu Abdullah.
* His mother still calls him Pooky.

95. In Ethiopia the start of the year 2000 was celebrated in September.
* In Pennsylvania the year 2000 will be celebrated in fifty years time.

96. Bees can detect explosives.
* But still aren't considered for work in the bomb squad.

97. There have been at least two children given the name "Superman" in the UK since 1984.
* They both think their parents are bastards.

98. Prison officers are on average assaulted eight times a day.
* But get revenge twice as often.

99. Each slug eats twice its body weight a day.
* As did Pavarotti.

100. Dogs can have two noses.
* How do they smell? Twice as bad.

Unexpectedly...

"...Ho, big man, gonnae sell us a fag?" The voice said.
I looked up from my book and saw a hooded hoodlum hovering half a foot away.
"I'll give you one, I'm fucked if I'm dying alone." I replied, reaching into my pocket for my cigarettes.

I pulled out a couple of cigarettes and handed them to the inquisitor.
"Do yeh smoke hash? I wuz gonnae give yeh a bit for the fags like." The guy offered.
"No man, that shit'll kill you... Got any crack?" I replied.

"..." Said the guy. "...Erm, uh...Erm." He stammered, looking totally baffled.
"I was pulling your leg mate." I said.
"I can get yeh some if you want it man. I know a man that can, so to say." He said, in a lower tone of voice than he had previously used. He looked as shady as an early dickens character as it was humanly possible.
"No man, it's cool. I was just making a joke." I said.
"Oh, right then. See you later then mate." He said, turning and walking into the store behind where I was standing.

I finished my cigarette and flicked it into the gutter. With any luck one of the environmental wardens would show up and I'd get to lose some tension by ranting at him how he should be writing tickets for the global corporations that poison our planet on a scale my cigarette didn't even come close to. But sadly there were no yellow jacketed jerk offs around so I walked into the A4E building.

Five minutes later I was searching for jobs while pondering what had caused me to be in this place. Then I remembered. It was because I'd been sacked for writing. I still couldn't figure out what it was that had been the straw that broke the camels back when it came to the uberdopplegruppenfuhrer deciding I should have my employment terminated.

As I searched through job title after job title that aroused my interests as much as a nude picture of Anne Widdicome, I heard a voice behind me. It was the same voice that the cigarette cajoler had used. For the rest of the day I had a new friend.

I mean, what the fuck am I? Some kind of idiot magnet?

For a while now...

My text message ringtone has been a soundclip of the TARDIS in flight.

****************************

The other day I was on a bus headed into town when my phone began to ring.

A small boy who was sitting a couple of seats in front of me with his mother heard my phone and turned to his mother. "Mum, it's the TARDIS. The Doctor is coming!" He said, excitedly.

The boy started to look around with wonder in his eyes attempting to see where the noise was coming from, and spotted me. I smiled at the kid and put my fingers to my lips like we were sharing a secret. I opened my phone and showed the small front display to the boy.

His eyes lit up like only a child's eyes can when they are faced with something that amazes them and I spoke into my phone. "Yes, Doctor." I said, pretending that I was receiving a phone call.

I waited a couple of seconds before saying anything to give the impression that The Doctor was on the other end of the phone. "There's been no reports on any kind of invasion fleet on the usual subspace channels as far as I know." I said, then paused. "Ok, I'll check as soon as possible. Send the co-ordinates and I'll look into it." I continued.

I closed my phone, quickly got up and pushed the bell to let the driver know I wanted off at the next stop. In a flash an idea came to me. I pushed the bell again and yelled in the direction of the driver. "Come on man, the future of the human race is at stake here! I need to get off now!" I shouted. The driver, obviously thinking that he had a madman on board pulled to the curb and opened the doors.

I leapt off the bus and sprinted towards the nearest corner. As I ran I turned to catch a glimpse of the kid on the bus. He was standing on his seat with his mouth agape at the thought that I had been talking to The Doctor.

I stopped sprinting when I got around the corner and began laughing.

Once more...

Your friend in the northern hemisphere...

Has been censored.

Yes folks, "The Man" has once again taken it upon Himself to decide what you, the masses, can or cannot read. Despite the fact that most people I have met have shown to me an ability to take in information, digest it and come up with a rationally formed opinion, "The Man" thinks otherwise.

(Click image to see a larger version)

All I can say is "Fuck the man!"

A Rant About Smoking...

In my home town of Edinburgh a smoker was fined £25 for throwing away a cigarette end.

What The Fuck is up with that?

Is my country so concerned about the heath of the nation that it’s now trying to stop us from smoking by making sure we can’t afford it? After all, taxing us up to the hilt hasn’t worked, neither has banning tobacco advertisements on the TV, so is this their new flanking manoeuvre in the war against smoking?

Maybe it’s just another way to prevent global pollution? Just think of all that nasty stuff that we smokers belch into the atmosphere, all those nasty chemicals that we spew forth whenever we light one up.

We are nasty, dangerous people to associate with; We cough all the time; We smell like ashtrays; We have bad breath; We are prone to cancer, TB and other nasty diseases; We are at greater risk of heart attacks, strokes, aneurysms and internal brain explosions; Our arterial passages are dangerously constricted; We can’t run worth shit; We wheeze like asthmatic warthogs when we sleep; We have brown stained fingers; Our homes have a permanent cloud base to rival Everest and we hack up disgusting balls of phlegm at the most inappropriate times.

Oh yeah... And we also pay more towards the health service than those health and fitness freaks that have somehow convinced themselves, that by eating well, not drinking alcohol and jogging regularly, that they’ll live forever.

What I’d like to know is why are we smokers being pursued and hunted down like a rabid dog when there are huge global conglomerates pumping more pollution into the atmosphere in a day than any of us smokers will manage in a lifetime?

Oh yeah, I remember now, it’s ’cos they make money for the government. (Who, by the way, are linked with those same companies and conglomerates.)

What exactly will the fines be used for? Bins or ashtrays to put our cigarette ends into?

Don't be fucking stupid.

The money will be spent in the same way as all the speeding fines that are generated by those lovely Gatso cameras... It will be used to hire ever more uniformed eunuchs whose soul pleasure is to make us feel like a second class citizen because we have exercised our right to freedom of choice.

Cough up in more ways than one friend...

*originally posted on my old site*

The Visitor...

I awoke this morning and put some music on while I pondered what to do with my day.

There was a knock at the door.

I opened it to find that it was Elvis, wearing a black jumpsuit almost identical to the one he wore at his comeback tour
"You're Elvis." I said.
"A huh huh." He replied.
"But your dead." I said, with amazement in my voice.
"A huh huh." He said again.
"Then what are you doing here?" I asked.
"I bring you a warning man, quick! Get a burger!" He said, pushing his way into the house.

I followed him as he headed for the small cupboard at the end of my hallway. "What do we need a burger for?" I asked.
"I've been dead a long time and there's no hamburger stands in heaven, something to do with cholesterol." he said, rooting around the cupboard."Where’s the Big Juggs special edition?" He asked lifting boxes and pulling them open.
"Pardon?" I asked.
"The ghost of the last person that lived here says you have the special anniversary edition of Big Juggs in this cupboard and I ain't seen a pair of big titties in a long time."
"It’s at the bottom of the pile, just after "butch lesbo's and the sunny-assed kid volume 3" help yourself" I said, leaving him to find it.

I walked through to the living room and sat down to roll a joint. I could hear Elvis rummaging in my cupboard of sin and shouted to him to get his ass into the living room so we could talk.

“So man,” I said, “What brings you round these parts, apart from my superior collection of top grade hardcore porno?”
“I told you already boy, I was sent with a warning for you.” he said, as he flicked through the pages of the anniversary edition of Big Juggs.
“A warning?” I asked.
“A huh huh.” He said in that deep southern accent of his. “It’s a warning that you have to make humanity listen to.”
“All of humanity?” I asked.
“A huh huh, all of them.” He said as he turned the porn magazine he was holding sideways “Damn man, I never thought I'd ever see a woman do that, and certainly not with a cucumber.”
“Look man can we please stick to the subject in hand, what’s this warning I have to get all of humanity to listen to?” I asked.

“You gotta tell them that god is getting a little ticked off at all the wars that are being fought in his name, he’s seriously considering giving the world another going over with the biblical flood thing.” Said Elvis as he took a seat on the couch. “He really is getting all cranked up on the vengeance and wrath. I don’t know how long St Peter can keep him in check, there’s only so many times that seeing the virgin Mary's face appear on a road sign in Mexico or a parsnip in the shape of Mother Theresa’s head can take the big guy’s mind off wiping out half the population”

“Why doesn’t he just give the religious nuts a Second Coming?” I asked.
“Jesus say’s he’s not coming back too earth until hell freezes over, the last time he came down they nailed him to a dead tree and left him for a week and a half.”
“I can imagine why that’d put him off of a second visit.” I said as I reached for my cigarettes. “And if you ask me the plague of locusts may be a good idea.”
“SHHH man, he’ll hear you!” Said Elvis with a look of horror on his face.
“How in the name of Christ will he hear me?” I asked.
“Shit man, he’s omnipotent!”
“How can he be Jesus' father if he’s omnipotent?”
“Omnipotent, not impotent.”
“Ok, lets pretend just for a second that you are talking to a complete moron who didn't pay much attention at school and that I don’t know the meaning of the word omnipotent.”
“It means that he sees all, knows all and hears all.”
“What? He sees everything, hears everything and knows everything?”
“That’s about right” Elvis said as he stood up and walked over to my record collection.
“Really? Everything?” I asked.
“A huh huh man, everything.”
“Even if I'm in the bath?”
“What is so hard for you to grasp about that premise man? He’s god. He sees everything that you do and hears everything that you say; He also knows all of your thoughts and deeds”
“Even if I'm in bed at night?” I asked.
“Yes you imbecile, even when you are in your bed at night.” said Elvis obviously getting a little ticked off at my lack of comprehension.

“But that means that when I'm in bed at night wan...umm, you know. He can see me umm, you know.” I stammered.
“You lost me there kid”
“What I'm trying to say is, well, when I'm, you know, umm, how can I put this... bashing the bishop. He can see me?”
“Bashing the bishop?” Elvis asked with a look of puzzlement on his face.
“Choking the snake, shaking hands with your best friend, spanking the monkey, opening the coke bottle, pulling one off, rubbing off some skin, having a quick one off the wrist, dousing the tallywacker.”
“I'm still not with you man.” Elvis said still looking puzzled.

“HAVING A WANK MAN! HAVING A FUCKING WANK!!!” I bellowed at him.

“You better watch your god damned language now boy or I may have to open up a can of whoop ass on y’all, I got a black belt in karate and I ain't 'fraid to use it.” He said as he started to punch and kick at an invisible enemy.
He spun around on the ball of his foot and sent my TV crashing through the window. There was a sound of material ripping and Elvis looked down at his crotch “Got a needle and thread man? I ripped my jumpsuit.”

I went and got him a needle and thread and a pair of Bermuda shorts to wear while he stitched the crotch of his jumpsuit. “Wait a minute” I said “Jesus doesn’t have to come back man”
“Why not?” Elvis asked.
“If god is impotent.” I said.
“Omnipotent.” Interrupted Elvis.
“Yeah man whatever, if he is omnipotent as you say he is. Then surely he could just make someone his conduit here on earth.”
“He tried that already man, no one believed the guy.”
“Who was that?” I asked curiously.
“David Icke. He even went on national TV and told everyone that he was the Son of God and the press and media ripped the poor guy to shreds.” Explained Elvis.
“No wonder no one believed him man, he was a worse TV presenter than Janet Street Porter and a third rate goalkeeper for a shitty football team.” I said in amazement at being told that David Icke was the second coming. “I mean come on man, god has all the power in the universe and he gets a Coventry City goalkeeper to be his second coming. Sorry man but I find that a bit hard to believe.”

“What’s so hard about that to believe?”
“A bad goalkeeper man, come on.”
“His first conduit was a carpenter.”
“What?” I asked amazed “Karen Carpenter was one as well?”
Elvis shook his head and looked skywards with a look of desperation on his face.

“Jesus was a carpenter you idiot. Didn’t you read the bible?”

“Well I did try to but I couldn't get to grips with all that... “Adam lived an hundred and thirty years, and begat a son in his own likeness, after his image; and called his name Seth And Seth lived an hundred and five years, and begat Enos And Enos lived ninety years, and begat Cainan: And Cainan lived after he begat Mahalaleel eight hundred and forty years, and begat sons and daughters”... It bored the hell out of me. He could have got a better writer to write it for him, maybe he should have thrown in a car chase or something like that just to keep people interested.” I said, thinking that if god was listening then I was being scored from the good boy’s list and firmly carved onto the stone tablets of Satan's future torture victims.

“Jesus Christ almighty.” Said Elvis with a tone of dejection in his voice.
“Careful man.” I said “Remember what it say's about not taking the lords name in vain. You could go to hell for that man.”

Elvis looked at me with pity in his eyes “I was asking for his strength to keep my spirits up.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yes man, really.”
“You’ve really fallen for that religious mumbo jumbo ain't you?”
“It’s not mumbo jumbo man; It’s the gospel truth.”
“Prove it.” I said.
“How?” Asked Elvis.
“Get him to make it snow outside.” I said, thinking that if ever I needed proof that god existed it beginning to snow on a day where the temperature was 60° in the shade was a pretty convincing argument.
“Were you dropped as a child?” Asked Elvis.
“Not that I know about. Why?”
“Don’t you know that tempting god is a dangerous thing to do?”
“Is it?” I asked.
“Of course it is you idiot!” Elvis said with his voice slightly raised.
“I guess that lesson was given in Sunday school after I got kicked out.”
“You got kicked out of Sunday school?” Elvis asked with a look of disbelief on his face “What for?”
“There was a small misunderstanding.”
“What kind of misunderstanding?”
“Ok I’ll admit it. I took a piss in the font. How was I supposed to know it wasn‘t the urinal? It was made of stone and had water in it!” I confessed.
Elvis’s mouth dropped open and he fixed me with a look like i’ve only ever seen on one person before and that was just after I told an ex-girlfriends dad that I thought he was a scum sucking piece of shit.

“I think I may have come to the wrong house.”
“What made god think this was the right house in the first place?” I asked out of sheer curiosity.
“Well like I said about god being impotent.”
“Omnipotent.” I interrupted.
“Yeah man, whatever. What he done was he looked into everyones heart and soul and picked the person who has the most compassion within them.”
“And he chose me?” I asked amazed.
“A huh, apparently you have compassion for all people regardless of their race, colour, creed and beliefs.” Elvis said.
“It’s a quality I have.”
“How do you manage that?”
“Weed man.” I said as I held up an ounce of the finest Nepalese hash that I'd ever managed to get my hands on.

“You smoke cannabis?” Asked Elvis.
“As god is my witness man. After all he made the stuff and he obviously likes a puff now and then”
“What makes you think that god smokes cannabis?” Elvis asked with a curious look on his face.
“He must do”
“How?”
“Well, just look at all the diverse animals, plants and people we have on this planet, there are millions of different species but all fit into a group of some kind, primates, insects, rodents, mammals and then there’s lots of subgroups such as mammals that can fly, ones that live in the oceans, ones that live in tree’s so he’s got to have had at least a small toot on occasion. And if that’s not enough proof that god likes a toke then I have three words that’ll settle this argument once and for all.”

“What are the words?”
“Duck-billed-platypus” I said with a smile.
“Pardon?” Asked Elvis.
“You heard right man, duck-billed-platypus.”
“And how exactly does that explain that god smoked some weed in his days on earth as he was creating all the plants and animals on earth?” Elvis asked filled with intrigue.
“Just look at the damned thing. It has the tail of a beaver, but the beak of a duck. It’s a mammal but it lays eggs. It’s like god knew that one day a guy named Charles Darwin would come along and write the evolution of the species but that one animal throws his whole theory out of kilter. And lets face it, if you said to someone that you were going to create such an animal the first thing that they’d do would be too lock the medicine cabinet and hide all your Rizla papers” I said as I reached for the Rizla papers to roll another joint.

“You may have a point there man” said Elvis. “But as I was saying god say’s you need to get everyone to listen to his message and stop all the fighting.”
“It’s not possible man. Too many things would need to be changed.” I said. “I’m not about to walk around telling people not to fight about religion. And besides humans like to fight each other.”

“Why do you think that is?”
“Because for so long the general public has been kept arguing amongst themselves about trivial shit.” I commented. “That’s how the system works, it’s a good way of keeping people in check. If they are arguing amongst themselves about race, colour, sports, the health system, the state of the roads, the price of fuel, sexuality, the latest plot line in Eastenders, Coronation street, what’s happening in the big brother house or anything else, then they aren’t thinking about how it’s all so that the super-rich family’s of the world can keep going to the bank. The world is not controlled by the people. The government controls the people and the governments are controlled by big business.”

“You’re paranoid man” said Elvis “Maybe you should stop smoking that stuff.”
“You can talk you were on so many drugs in the latter stages of your life that you rattled like a pillbox when you came on stage”
“Hey man, they were all prescribed to me by a doctor.”
“Don’t be such a fucking hypocrite man, just ‘cos they are given to you by a doctor doesn’t distract from the fact that you were higher than the entire audience at Woodstock for the best part of your life. You paid the guy to give you those drugs man, he wasn’t a doctor he was a dealer.”

Elvis looked at me with loathing in his eyes but I ignored it.
“Why doesn’t god do a TV special?” I asked “After all the church has enough money to pay for a whole day live interview with him on every network in the world. The ratings for that would be huge. Then he would be able to straighten it all out in one fell swoop.”
“He’s paranoid about how he would look to everyone” said Elvis.
“What for?” I asked.
“Well man, everyone has this idea that he has the looks of a movie star, you know. Like Moses is expected to look like Charlton Heston and Jesus is supposed too look like Max Von Sydow. He feels he can’t compare to those guy's. He wouldn’t live up to everyone’s expectations.” Elvis said as I finished rolling my joint and lighting it.
“What does the big guy look like anyway?” I asked inhaling the smoke deeply.
“He looks like all of humanity.”
“Huh?” I said “what do you mean?”
“It’s like looking in a mirror man; to you he looks like you and to me he looks like me.”
“How can that be?” I asked.
“God made us all in the image of him. He is all of us.”

“Nope man, I still don’t get that” I said wondering if I was stoned enough to try to figure it out without having an aneurysm or spontaneously combusting and burning like a monk at a peace protest.

“All of humanity was created in his image so therefore he looks like all of us. He is us and we are him” Elvis explained.
“One entity you mean?” I said suddenly grasping onto what Elvis was trying to get at.
“That’s it. One entity, one mind. Every thought you have, every word you speak has all been thought or said before by someone else at some point.” Said Elvis.
“So, if nothing you can do, think or say hasn’t been done, said or thought before what’s the point of living?” I asked wanting to know what the meaning behind life was.

“How the hell should I know boy? I'm just a fat, dead rock star man”
“Why don't you do it then?” I asked.
“Been tried man, I've been seen by many thousands of people since I died. I've tried to spread the message that we are all in this together and that heaven on earth is achievable if we put all our differences aside and work as one people, but everyone I choose to tell just thinks I'm a sad lonely old rocker who works in a steel mill and dresses as Elvis at the weekends in a desperate attempt to recapture their happier youth.”

“That’s to be expected though, you do look a bit like a bad impersonator of yourself.” I commented.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Elvis asked with a look of hurt in his eyes.
“Well, I always imagined you’d be taller than you are.”
“Hey man, I'm tall enough to whip your ass man” he said as he stood and started to flay at another invisible enemy.

“TAKE IT EASY MAN!” I yelled “you already kicked my TV out the window and ripped your jumpsuit. I'd rather keep a hold of my electrical hardware and I'm sure that you don't want to rip your pants again.”
“It happens all the time man, I may not be alive anymore but my sewing skills have improved since my death. Just goes to show that there's a good side to everything.” Said Elvis as he calmed down and took his seat again.
“I think the problem lies in the fact that we are all driven by the need for money.” I said, trying to work out what is basically wrong about the world that we live in. “If we done away with money I think life in general would be of a better quality. After all what is money?”

“It’s for buying stuff man, I remember one time I bought fifteen Cadillac's in one day” Elvis said smiling.
“Who were they for?” i asked.
“The staff at a restaurant in Las Vegas, man did they do a good rack of ribs with Barbecue sauce. I used to have my private jet fly them to me wherever I was doing a show. Good ribs man, good ribs.” Elvis said, licking his lips and yearning for some ribs.

“As I was saying before your stomach jumped into the conversation, what is money?”
I could see that Elvis was about to say it was for buying things again so I kept talking.

“It’s just a token. It’s of no value whatsoever. All it is is a piece of paper. Why don't we become a cashless society? We’re almost there as it is now; Credit cards are the new currency and what’s a credit card? It’s a piece of plastic with no value whatsoever.”
“But” interrupted Elvis “How would we get thing’s that we need?”
“Think of it like this, I work in a garage and you work in a bowling alley.”

“Hey man, I'm a rock and roll legend, I aint workin’ in no bowling alley, I'm in show business.”
“Ok then Mr Ego, you work in a Vegas lounge doing your own inimitable style of showmanship and I work in a garage.” I said trying to put across how the idea could be worked, “I don’t mind working in the garage as long as if I feel like it I can walk into the Vegas hotel and catch your show at anytime I feel, and you are comfortable knowing that if your car breaks down and comes to my garage that it’ll be fixed for you.” I explained.

“So everyone just keeps doing the job that they are doing but with no money at the end of the week to buy what they want?” Asked Elvis.
“Why not?” I asked. “Working as one race is surely better than not working as individuals?”
“I suppose so.” Conceded Elvis. “But human greed is a hard thing to try to rid the world of. Everyone is busy trying to get enough for themselves and forgetting about the larger issues”
“All society‘s problems could be sorted out by ridding the world of greed” I stated.
“How?” Elvis asked.

“All people are in employment doing whatever job they are trained to do. Builders build farmers’ farm, brewers brew, and governments run the essentials of society. All the work goes on day to day just like it does now. We house anyone who needs a house and educate him or her to do whatever job they would like to do. After ten years working together we would have full employment and housing.” I said, sucking deep on my joint.

“But what if you want to change the job that you are in?” Asked Elvis.
“Then you go to your local office of employment and tell them you’d rather not be a lounge singer or a builder or a farmer and that you’d like to try your hand at being a fisherman or a judge or whatever else you fancy doing.”
“But who’s going to do the job that you aren't going to be doing anymore?”
“Well, I'm sure that there would be someone that would like to do the job that I was doing. You forget that even though I'm leaving a job, I'm also creating one.”
“You could be onto something there.” said Elvis.

“I think we should do away with calendars in the world as well.” I suggested.
“What will that cure?” Elvis asked.
I took a cigarette and lit it. “What century are we in?” I asked, straying slightly off the point to make the point.
“The twenty-first century.” Said Elvis.
“No we aren’t. The world is a whole lot older than that. It’s accepted by scientists to be between one billion years and five billion years. The oldest known hominid is thought to be 4 million years old. So why do we insist on measuring time by how long it’s been since some guy that you never met? Have you ever wondered why we measure time in seconds?” I said as the joint began to open my mind.
“I can’t say that I have man” said Elvis as he scratched at his thigh. “Loose thread” He said to explain the clawing he was doing in the general vicinity of his crotch.
“It’s another way for the people who run our world to keep you in control.” I said, taking a deep breath. “We are brought into the world and told from the start that everything is a competition and that second is as good as last. Then we get told to measure our lives in seconds. Doesn’t that strike you with the thought that you are set of into life with the suggestion that you will never succeed in life?”
“Put like that it does.” Said Elvis.

“We’d need to get rid of the hypocrisy that is so rife in society as well.” I said.
“Such as?” Posed Elvis.
“The belief that deviating from what is thought of as normal behaviour makes you somehow different from anyone else. If you want to go home at night and dress up like a wolf and have your wife chase you round the kitchen while she’s dressed as little red riding hood then that’s fine just so long as you both willingly consent.”
“Have you been talking to Pricilla?” Elvis asked in a defensive tone.
“Pardon?” I asked, not sure that I'd heard what I thought I had heard.
Elvis laughed nervously “Nothing man, I was just joking” he said as he squirmed in his chair nervously and tried not too look me in the eye.

“Yeah man, whatever.” I said shivering slightly at the thought of this fat, dead, rock and roll star crawling around the kitchen on his hands and knees singing hound dog. The shiver passed as I was warmed by imagining Pricilla dressed in a skimpy little red riding hood outfit.
“Hey man you still with me?” Said Elvis, wondering why I was staring into space like a human version of the Hubble telescope.
“What? Huh? Sorry man. I was miles away.” I said as Elvis derailed my train of thought. “So what can god do to get a little love into the world?”

“What I think we need is more random acts of kindness, good deeds, like buying ribs for hungry people.” said Elvis as he started to look through my collection of videos. “You still got that porno with the lesbian orgy in it?” He asked.
“What is it with you and porno man?” I asked.
“There aint no porn in heaven man.” He answered as he rooted around in my cabinet and selected a tape from my collection. “Is this the one with the two women with the double ended dildo and the giant sized tub of whipped cream?” He asked.
“Will you please stop making a mess of my tapes and sit down. We have issues to sort out.” I said.

“Aww man, come on. I’ve been in heaven for ten years. I need to see some chick licking another chicks pussy like a dog lapping water.” He said as he sat down and picked up the big juggs magazine again.

I suddenly realised that he had said he had been dead for ten years. “Wait a fucking minute man, you’ve been in heaven ten years?”
“Yeah man” he replied.
“But you died in 1977. August 16th. I remember ‘cos it was my birthday and you dying totally fucked my party.” I said, remembering how my mother had went to pieces at the news and had sent everyone at my party home so she could spend the rest of the day weeping and playing “Are you lonesome tonight” over and over again, thereby souring me of Elvis's brand of music for life.

“I didn't die in ‘77 man. I died in ‘93.” He said smiling. “My death in ‘77 was stage managed by the CIA so I could go into witness protection.”
“Witness protection?” I questioned.
“Yeah man, I got into a lot of trouble with the DEA when Dickey gave me a special agents badge and found that I had enough dope in my trailer to keep Woodstock going for a decade or two. Man was Nixon pissed at me for that one.” He said leering at me with his famous lip curl.

“Why are you looking at me like you’re a hungry coyote and I’m a prize hen?” I asked.

“You’re a real good looking guy. You know that?” Elvis answered causing me to worry.
“Look man, you may be the king of rock and roll but I’ll still kick you clean in the balls unless you get that idea out your head man.” I said with a little anger in my voice.
“Hey man I just thought you might wanna do a favour for big Elvis by giving little Elvis some attention.”
“Look man just ’cos I aint a homophobe don’t mean I wanna drop to my knees and give your pecker the kiss of life. Any more of that and you’ll be right back in the hit parade.” I said as I made a mental note not to turn my back on Elvis in his current state.

“Hey man.” Said Elvis “You got a telephone?”
“Yes. you wanna make a call or something?” I said.
“I wanna call for some ribs man. I’m hungry.”
“You can’t get ribs unless you get ones from the Chinese restaurant” I informed elvis.
“What? You mean to tell me there’s no southern take outs in this place?”
“Only KFC” I said.
“Kentucky fried chicken?”
“Ahuh”
“Damn man, that stuff’s just shit man.”
“Don’t I know it.”

*Originally posted on my old site.*

Reality TV...

The curse of modern TV.

From Big Brother, Pop Idol, Joe Millionaire, Fear Factor to I’m a celebrity! get me out of here, which personally I think should be renamed “I’m an attention seeking shitheel, Watch me dance like a monkey” Reality TV is setting new standards in the dumbing down of our world.

Maybe I’m just being a cynic but I really have no desire to sit on my couch for hours on end lowering my intelligence to the level of pond scum. And I don’t really understand how anyone could. What in Gods name was big brother all about? A houseful of halfwits being poked, prodded and goaded into playing up for an audience of unseen eyes.

Where is the attraction in sitting on your couch, for as many hours as you could without dropping into a mental coma if that was possible, and watching people sit on a couch? If that’s your idea of entertainment then buy a mirror, place it directly in front of your sofa and stare at yourself until your eyes glaze over and your brain grinds to a scrunching halt.

Now don’t get me wrong i’m not attacking your lifestyle choice. I’m merely expressing my opinion.

If your life is so unfulfilled that you feel you need to have some kind of connection to someone stupid enough to believe that their life will be better just because they have been “famous” for a few weeks then frankly I think I have a show for you to star in.

I know that may sound a bit harsh but look at it this way, The reason you watched Big Brother Etc Etc Etc... Was to see just how much the people in the house wound each other up, To maybe catch a glimpse of flesh or to see if there was going to be an argument that led to blows. I have merely taken your lust for entertainment and evolved the idea.

And if you are being honest with yourself I think you’d enjoy “Moron in a minefield.”

Imagine this...

The show starts with angst filled guitar music and wonderfully expensive computer graphics dancing teasingly across your screen. Two annoyingly upbeat twats called Pant and Dick bounce onto your screen and introduce themselves.

“Welcome to the show folks” Says Pant, smiling like he has a feline fetish and has just fucked his neighbours cat. Dick chimes in with his trademark cheeky grin “Last week you watched as Mandi from Stratford made it to the nine hundred meter mark before she put a foot wrong and was maimed by a half buried anti personnel mine, supplied by our sponsors royal ordinance ltd.”

In the corner of the screen a box shows a repeat of the naked Mandi running full pelt across the mind field. The look of exhilaration is clear on her face as she begins to realise that she is tantalisingly close to the finish line. Her breasts are bouncing and swaying and her supple looking ass shimmies as she sprints and leaps towards her goal. There is a flash of bright orange light and the action goes into slow-mo as Mandi is blown skywards and her legs are parted for the final time in her life.

The camera zooms in on Pant and he smiles his syrupy grin. “On this weeks show we have another 15 contestants vying for the chance to run across the minefield, we’ll be back after this short advertising break”...

After you have had corporate slogans pumped into your cerebrum, and you have been conned into thinking that you will not be socially acceptable unless you have the latest mobile phone or you will be shunned by your friends unless you are wearing the latest running shoes that some money grabbing sportsman sold his soul to hawk to you and a small child gave his lifeblood stitching.

...The show returns and Pant and Dick are stood next to fifteen barely human pieces of trash who are waiting anxiously for their fifteen minutes of fame. Pant smiles his perfectly aligned smile and informs you that this is where the contestants battle off against each other in order to decide who gets the chance to run the minefield.

There is a phone vote to see who gets to run.

Merits are given based upon looks rather than substance, as this seems to be the main way we are taught to judge each other thanks to years of polished and preened pop stars selling us material crap that they say will make us better people, and on knowledge of semi famous soap stars rather than actual intelligence, which, thanks to all those gossip rags that populate the shelves of superstores and newsagents all over the country most of the morons of this country eat up like dung beetles eat shit, and on something else equally insipid and tedious that the general populace can associate with.

The contestants are slowly whittled down to the last three who then fight each other with an assortment of axes, whips, chains, baseball bats and knives. The one who successfully fends off the other two is then taken aside by Pant and Dick and is introduced to the home audience.
They tell him/her that if they make it across the mine field they will be as close to royalty as is possible for a commoner to be.

Then they get naked and begin the run of their lives...

And for those of you lucky enough to have digital TV you can press the RED button to see the interactive screens. Complete detailed biographical, medical and personal history of the contestants. Access to several camera angles, slo-mo replay and Head-Cam. "See the run from first person view but without the danger"...

Now that’s entertainment folks. And it also has the added bonus of killing two birds with one stone, not only does it rid the world of another group of useless, half witted morons but it also keeps the idiots in their homes and lets the rational people of the world get on with living. Like me.

(This post was originally posted on my old website but I'm deleting that and moving the worthy rants to here.)

There was a strange knocking sound...

Emitting from the cupboard at the end of the hall.

I tried to open the door and realised that it was locked so I went to the kitchen and retrieved the key from the drawer. Slipping the key into the lock I discovered that there was some kind of force trying to prevent me opening the door.

Whenever I tried to turn the key the force worked against me with a strength that caused me to think that there was something inside the cupboard that was as determined to keep me out as I was to get in. "What the fuck?" I thought.

I went back into the kitchen and got my toolbox from the cupboard underneath the sink and carried it to the hall cupboard door. Popping open the toolbox I spotted what I needed, a pair of mole grips and a can of motorcycle chain lubricant. I removed the key from the lock and slid the small plastic tube applicator of the lubricant can into the lock and gave it a squirt.

Sliding the key back into the lock and gripping it with the mole grips I used all my strength and managed to get it to turn. The cupboard was no longer locked. I pulled open the door and was greeted with a sight I never expected to see in my lifetime. There was what appeared to be a forest of Scots Pine trees in my cupboard.

I stepped into the cupboard and walked into the forest. Pine cones and the general detritus of a forest crunched beneath my feet and I heard birds twittering and tweeting in the branches above me. As I looked up at the clear blue sky above me I caught sight of movement. My eyes quickly darted to where I had seen movement and to my amazement I saw a faun.

Holy shit! I must have found a gateway into the Kingdom of Narnia. I thought to myself as I took cover behind a Scots pine so that the faun didn't see me. After a few minutes I risked poking my head around the tree to see where the faun had went.

"Fucking Hell!" I yelled.

The faun had snuck up behind the tree I was hiding behind and had obviously thought it was quite the lark to sneak up on me and scare the bejesus out of me. As I leaped backwards my foot caught an exposed tree root and I fell flat on my backside.

The faun gave out a hearty laugh as I lay on the ground in front of it. "Hehehehe, silly human." It said. "Thinking you could sneak up on a faun... Don't you know that we are the most evolved of creatures here in the forest? It would take a God to sneak up on a faun and even then we'd hear it coming." The faun continued.

"Fuck you Tumnus." I said standing up and dusting the pine needles and dirt off of my jeans.
"I am not the faun you think I am." Said the faun.
"Of course you are, I've read C.S Lewis, you're name is Tumnus and you're a faun."
"I have not heard of this See Ess Lewis of which you speak human, but I do know of the legend of Tumnus the faun, my mother told me of his bravery when I was young." The faun said.
"So, what's your name then?" I asked.

The faun straightened itself to its full height and spoke as though it was a king revealing himself to the peasant masses.

"My name is Lebowitz." It said proudly.
"And how should I address you?" I asked.
"It is traditional to name the creature after you name its species." The faun said.
"Ok then. Faun Lebowitz it is." I said, beginning to laugh.
"Why do you laugh human?"
"Never mind... I always thought you were killed in a kiln accident."
"What is your name human?" The faun questioned.
"Ross Douglas." I said.
"The Ross Douglas? Brave warrior of the earth plain? Vanquisher of General Itsy? Slayer of the Easter Bunny?"
"Yup, that's me." I said, slightly embarrassed.
"You are known in our kingdom. Your legend tells of a man ten feet tall with arms like the branches of an oak tree... I see legends are not strictly true." Faun Lebowitz said, looking me up and down.

"Where am I?" I asked, looking around at the vast landscape before me. I knew for damn sure that I was no longer in the cupboard at the end of my hallway. I'm sure I'd remember if I had planted an entire forest of pine trees in my cupboard at some point during my residence.

"You do not know where you are Brave warrior?" The faun enquired.
"As far as I know I'm in my hall cupboard." I said.
"The kingdom of Myhall Cup Bored is not known to me. Have you travelled far?" Faun asked.
"About a hundred yards." I said.
"A yard must be a great distance. This kingdom stretches as far as you can see and further." The faun said, indicating the vast landscape with its front hoof. I looked around and saw that the door to my hall was no longer visible. "Oh fuck." I said. "I've lost the door. I could end up stuck here." I continued.

A sense of dread passed over me. What if I had lost the way back into my hallway? I'd be stuck here in a land where my friends and family couldn't get in touch, a land where talking fauns and god only knows what other creatures lived.

The feeling passed when I realised that I wouldn't have to pay the £100 electric bill and the £50 phone bill that were sitting on my mantle.

"You must be tired after your journey of one hundred yards human, please come with me and I shall take you to my home where you can rest and regain your strength." The faun said.
The faun told me to jump onto its back so I climbed on and held tight as it sped off into the tree lined valley ahead of us.

We arrived at the fauns house, a small cottage type arrangement at the bottom of a glen, and I dismounted feeling the same way I did the first time I was a pillion passenger on a superbike. Shaking, scared and eager to do it again straight away.

Faun Lebowitz welcomed me into his home by doing a strange little dance which involved pawing the earth in front of the doorway and bellowing loudly. I stepped over the threshold and was greeted with the sight of another faun and two smaller fauns that I figured to be Lebowitz's wife and children.

"This is my wife and children." He said, confirming what I thought. The female faun strode over and bowed to me by lowering itself onto its front legs. "Welcome to our humble home human, I am Faun Dell and these are our children Faun Dov and Faun Dayadrink." It said.

"Hi." I said. "I'm Ross."
"Wife..." Said Lebowitz. "This is the brave warrior of the earth realm Ross Douglas."
"The Ross Douglas? Slayer of General Itsy? Dispatcher of the Easter Bunny?" Faun Dell asked, with a tone of disbelief in her voice.

"Indeed wife." Faun Lebowitz replied, as he beckoned to his children. "Come little ones, meet the brave warrior Ross Douglas, Slayer of General Itsy, dispatcher of the Easter Bunny." He said.

The two small fauns timidly walked over to where I stood and bowed their heads. As one they spoke, "We welcome you into our home brave warrior Ross Douglas, Slayer of General Itsy, dispatcher of the Easter Bunny."

"Thanks. But please, just call me Ross. This "Slayer of General Itsy, dispatcher of the Easter Bunny" thing is wearing a bit thin." I told them and patted them on their heads.

Without warning Faun Lebowitz snorted and squared up to me. "You insult my children by patting them on the head!" He bellowed. "We are not common animals! We are Faun and Fauns are regal creatures, you shall show respect or you will be banished from our home!"

"Steady on Tumnus." I said. "I was only saying hello. There's no need to go all skitzo on me."
Faun Dov spoke. "Lebowitz, I am certain that the brave warrior, slayer of..." She paused. "Ross meant no insult. He is a stranger to our land and to our customs." She continued.

"Exactly." I said. "I didn't mean to offend your family faun Lebowitz. I was merely showing affection."

Lebowitz calmed down and the tension dropped from the room. "Come." He said. "I shall show you to where you can sleep. Your hundred yard journey must have sapped your great strength and you will require rest."

"Thank you faun Lebowitz, your hospitality is kind beyond words." I said as he lead me from the main living area of the cottage to a smaller, but still ample sized, room off to the side. A large wooden bed was situated in the centre of the room and I sat down and felt the softness of the matting.

"This is the visitors quarters, I trust you will be comfortable." He said. With this faun Lebowitz left me. I pulled my legs up onto the bed and was asleep in a few seconds.

I awoke early the next day and heard Faun Lebowitz and his wife arguing in the other room.
"Why did you bring him here? You know the punishment for harbouring a human is punishable by death." Faun Dell was saying.

"But he is Ross Douglas, brave warrior of the earthly realm, slayer of General Itsy, dispatcher of the Easter Bunny, he will protect us." Faun Lebowitz replied. "Now hush woman I hear him stirring. He must not know the danger he has placed us in."

I coughed loudly as I hadn't had my morning cigarette and the door to the guest room swung open. Faun Dell stood in the doorway. "Good morrow brave warrior, I trust your rest was satisfying." She said.

"I slept like a kid." I said, stretching my arms above my head.
"You slept like a young goat?" Faun Dell asked confused.
"Never mind." I said. "Yes, I slept well." I answered.
"Come and have something to eat." Faun Dell said.

I followed faun Dell to the main part of the house and saw that the table was covered in a large assortment of fruits and vegetables. The faun children were nowhere to be seen so I enquired where they were. Faun Dell looked at her husband with a sad look in her eye and Lebowitz spoke.

"The children are gone now." He said.
"Outside playing are they?" I asked.
Faun Dell began to make strange noises and asked to be excused.
"Please do not speak of the children again brave warrior Ross. They are gone now." Faun Lebowitz said and gestured to the food on the table. "Please, eat."

"I overheard you and your wife speaking earlier, you have put yourself in danger by having me here." I said as I took an apple from the table and bit into it.
"My wife and I are in no danger." Faun Lebowitz said.

I put two and two together and worked out where the children had gone. "Faun Lebowitz, where are the children?" I asked.
"Do not speak of the children brave warrior Ross they are beyond our reach now." He said.
Faun Dell came back into the room and spoke.
"The children have been taken by the black hoarde. It is the punishment for us looking after you." She said.

I almost choked on the apple I was eating. "Excuse me?" I spluttered.

Faun Dell told me how the punishment for harbouring a human was normally death to the host family but in order not to arouse suspicion the black hoarde had been instructed to take only the children. "The black hoarde will be returning for my husband and I when he has seen you safely back to your homeland." Faun Dell said, visibly upset.

"Not while I'm here they won't." I said. I turned to Lebowitz and asked if there was anywhere that faun Dell could hide while he and I went and got the children back. "There is nowhere safe from the black hoarde. My wife must wait here until you are taken to your lands and I return. Then the black hoarde will come for us." He said.

"Hang on a second... didn't you say that it would take a god to sneak up on a faun when I first saw you?" I asked.
"Yes. We are the most sensitive creatures in this kingdom but this matters not." He replied.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because it is the law." Faun Lebowitz replied.

"Well Tumnus my friend we have a saying in my land... Fuck the law." I said. "Faun Dell, run and hide from the black hoarde, your husband and I are going to get your children back."
"This is not possible. The black hoarde cannot be overcome." Lebowitz replied.
"Hey, remember me? Brave warrior of the earthly plain, slayer of General Itsy, dispatcher of the Easter Bunny?" I said. "I think it's about time I added kicker of the black hoardes arse to that list."

Faun Lebowitz's eyes sparkled and I saw the rage of someone I'd rather have with me than against. "Wife, take flight and hide. Find the resistance and tell them that the time has come to overthrow the black hoarde."

Faun Dell rubbed noses with her husband and we left the cottage and watched as she sped across the landscape at the same breakneck speed with which Lebowitz had carried me to his home the previous night.

"Right then Lebowitz, where do the black hoarde hold camp?" I asked.
"The black castle." He replied.
"Then let's go and have a butchers." I said climbing onto lebowitz's back.

We sped across the valley in the opposite direction to that which faun Dell had gone. Trees whizzed past us at a blur and I clung on for fear of falling. Faun Lebowitz told me the story of the black hoarde as we travelled.

"The black hoarde were borne of the black times when this kingdom lost its royal line. The great and good Kings used to hold the warring factions in check with diplomacy and appeasement but when the last king died without heir the ancient tribes went to war to decide who was to be the new ruler. The black hoarde killed all of their enemies in a war that lasted more than the lifetime of a dozen fauns and very few of the original clans survived. The only reason that the black hoarde did not kill everyone not of their kin was that the ancient tales foretold that if a race ceased to be then the land would be swallowed by the seas and all would die."

Faun Lebowitz continued his tale and I was brought up to speed on how the black hoarde had killed all but two families of each race.

We slowed to a walking pace and stopped a few hundred yards from the entrance to a dark cavern that looked like it had been ripped out of the side of the hill by the claws of some giant beast. Ragged rocks hung precariously around the entrance and the ground in front of the cave was littered with bones and skulls of animals I didn't recognise.

"This is the entrance to the black hoardes lair." Faun Lebowitz told me in a hushed voice.
"Then let's go see if anyone is in shall we?" I said as I began walking towards the cave entrance.

Faun Lebowitz grabbed my collar with his teeth and held me back. "Hey..." I said but then I noticed why he had stopped me. Just visible in the darkness of the cave entrance a pair of red eyes glowed menacingly.

"The black hoarde cannot travel in the light. As soon as you step into the darkness you would be torn limb from limb." He told me and I stopped attempting to loosen his grip on me.
"In that case I think I'll stay in the light." I said and strode forwards a few yards.

"Hey, bright eyes!" I shouted in the direction of the cave. "Go and get the head hoarde, I want to talk." I continued.

The red glowing eyes blinked out and disappeared.

"So what now?" I asked Lebowitz.
"The guardian will be back soon... And it will not be alone." Lebowitz said.
"So we just wait?" I asked.
"There is nothing else to do." Lebowitz replied.

I sat down on the grass just at the edge of the bone strewn ground and absentmindedly picked at a loose thread on the bottom of my jeans.

I pondered how a seemingly normal day had lead to where I was now. I thought back to the day when General Itsy had came into my life. What started off as an ordinary night watching TV had turned into a fight for my life. Then the Easter Bunny episode happened. And now here I was deep in an unknown land that existed in the cupboard at the end of my hallway.

"Maybe they were all psychotic episodes and they're becoming more regular." I thought. "Maybe I'm just having a very lucid dream but haven't realised I'm dreaming." I thought.
"Maybe I've finally snapped and have went totally and irrevocably insane." I thought.
"Maybe I've had an accident of some kind and I'm really lying in hospital somewhere in a coma." I thought. Then dismissed that as it all seemed a bit too Life on Mars.

Faun Lebowitz snapped me out of my introspective thoughts when he announced that the Guardian had returned. In the mouth of the cave the red eyes of the guardian glowed menacingly. A second pair of eyes blinked into view. Then a third. Then a fourth. Then a fifth. A sixth. A seventh. An eighth and final set of eyes opened revealing themselves to be a deeper red than the rest.

I figured that this was the head honcho of the hoarde and knew that this was whom I was about to try to reason with. I whispered to Lebowitz. "You said they can't travel in light, how are they with shadow?" I asked.

"No one knows. The hoarde are not known for leaving witnesses to their barbarity." He said.
"Well, it looks like we're about to find out. Or you are at least." I said, stepping forwards into the shadow of the cave.

"I seek audience with the leader of the black hoarde." I said, doing my best to sound brave, warriorish and dispatchery. The deepest red eyes emerged from the impenetrable blackness of the cave and stepped into the shadow.

The beast in front of me was something that would give a child nightmares so bad it would need many hours of expensive therapy with the worlds leading psychologists. It stood around seven feet tall on hind legs with large wings that ended in sharp, vicious and no doubt lethal talons. Leathery skin that was wrinkled and covered in some kind of thick gel covered its body and its skull had the look of a goat. Horns protruded from the its forehead and curled around in the same way as a goats horns do.

It spoke in a voice that shook the ground I was standing on. "I am the King of the hoarde and the ruler of this land. Who are you that you think you may seek an audience and stay alive." It said.
"I am the brave warrior of the earthly plain Ross Douglas, slayer of General Itsy, Dispatcher of the Easter Bunny." I said.

The beast emitted what I took to be a laugh. If Satan himself ever found reason to laugh, this was exactly how I would imagine it to sound. "You claim to be a great warrior and yet all you have done is kill children's fairy stories. You are no brave warrior, you are but a pest and I shall dispose of you before this day is through." The beast said.

"Yeah, well, you ain't so big yourself." I said and stepped towards the beast. The beast stepped forwards also and I looked up into its eyes. "Give Faun Lebowitz and Faun Dell their children back now and I might let you live." I said.

"And if I do not?" The beast asked, its foul breath tainting the air around me so much that I could barely breathe. "Then I'll do to you what I used to do to daddy long legs." I said. "I'll pull your FUCKING WINGS OFF AND STAND ON YOU!" I shouted.

"Brave words indeed. But words mean nothing human. It is actions that count." The beast said.

"Then why don't you and I step into the clearing over there and we'll see who's the bitch?" I asked, in the hope that the beast was stupid enough to walk into the light.
"You think me unintelligent human? I will not fall into your trap." The beast said.
I smiled. "Worth a try though?" I said.
"Indeed. Many of my brethren would have fallen for such a trick." The beast replied. "However I am not as senseless as they." It continued.
"So what now?" I asked.
"Now I wait until the setting of the sun and you wait to die." The beast said, turning away and walking back into the darkness of the cave mouth.

I walked back to where faun Lebowitz stood and smiled. "I think I've got him worried." I said.
"You fool no-one human, we are as good as dead come nightfall." Lebowitz said.
"Then we better get started." I said and jumped onto Lebowitz's back. "Let's go and see this resistance you mentioned."

We sped back towards Lebowitz's house but instead of stopping at it we hurtled past and onwards into the distance. The sun was almost at its highest point and I figured there to be about nine hours until the black hoarde could come out to play.

We finally stopped in a small wooded glade and came to a halt next to a large stone altar that looked like it had been used for sacrificial purposes at some point in its history. Gathered around it were animals of all kinds, faun Dell and small, human shaped... People.

I climbed off faun Lebowitz's back and stood on the altar. Faces in the crowd looked at me expectantly. For a few seconds I didn't know what to do. Then the idea occured to me that I had better try to organise this rag-tag bunch in front of me into some kind of fighting force.

"Sargeant Lebowitz!" I yelled. "Get these erm... Men... Bears... Stags... Otters... Badgers and Orangutans? Into order."

Faun Lebowitz stared at me with a confused look. "Yes, you." I said.
"But I am not a sargeant." Lebowitz replied.
"Call it a field promotion." I said.

"Yes brave warrior of the earthly plain Ross Douglas, slayer of General Itsy, dispatcher of the Easter Bunny, sir!" Faun Lebowitz shouted, reveling in his new found position of power. "Step lively troops I want four rows and I want them NOW!" Lebowitz bellowed.

The assembled animals and human shaped people bumped into each other as they all attempted to stand in the front row just in case there were more field promotions about to be handed out. The scene before me looked like a convention of Marx Brothers impersonators dressed as creatures of the forest and munchkins doing a mass impression of messrs Larry, Curly and Moe.

As the creatures spun and tumbled over one another I looked at Lebowitz and rolled my eyes.

"This is the resistance?" I asked as the creatures continued to fall over each other.
"They are not very good with orders." Lebowitz said. "They consider each other to be equal to the other. There has been no commander as such since the black hoarde killed their last leader. They figured that way if any of them were captured they could say that someone else was the leader and they would be spared the death penalty." He explained.

I shook my head slowly from side to side and wondered what I'd managed to get myself involved in.

I lost my head. "Ok you lot, stand still before I come down there and give you all a slap." I bellowed. Some kind of order was regained and I pointed at the nearest animal to me. It was an Orangutan. "You are now in charge of formation duty. Now line these troops up before I lose my patience."

The Orangutan Saluted with three of its hands and said "OOK!"

The Orangutan took one look at the assembled chaos before it and decided the best plan of action was to slap the first being it laid eyes on. The palm of the Orangutan slapped against the head of a large brown bear and made a noise like someone being slapped with a fish. The brown bear slumped in a heap, knocked out cold.

"OOK!" It yelled.

The rest of the crowd took this to be a pretty good sign that they had better get it together or there would be more slapping and rapidly fell into order. Within a couple of seconds four perfect rows stood before me.

The Orangutan smiled a smile so wide it looked like the front grille of a Bugatti Veyron. The only difference being that the Bugatti Veyron didn't have bits of banana stuck in the gaps or give off a smell that could melt steel at fifteen paces.

"Well done that monkey!" I said, looking down at the slightly more organised, but still as rough looking, bunch of creatures in front of me.
"Ook?" Said the Orangutan.
"What's it saying?" I whispered to Lebowitz who was standing next to the altar.
"It says it is not a monkey, it is a great ape." Said Lebowitz.
"What's the difference?" I asked.
"A monkey will not rip your arms off and beat you to death with them." Lebowitz replied.
"In that case... Well done that great ape!" I said.

I faced the troop of creatures and spoke. "Troop... We are facing an enemy that knows no fear, that outnumbers us and will take no prisoners. But we have the upper hand. And why?" I began.

A raised hand appeared out of the crowd. "Because we've got a slap happy Orangutan?" The owner of the hand said.

"No, we have the upper hand because the enemy does not know what tactic I will be using. They may come among us slaughtering us at will but they do not have the element of surprise." I said, hoping to god I could think of some kind of tactic in the next eight hours to save us all from being slaughtered. "Now troop we must prepare for battle so I tell you now to go and find arms to fight with." I said.

Faun Lebowitz barked an order to the troop and they all went off in search of things to fight the black hoarde with. The only creatures that stayed were faun Lebowitz, his wife faun Dell and the Orangutan.

"Lebowitz." I said. "Why is the Orangutan still here?" I asked.
"Ook..." Said the Orangutan.
"He says he has enough arms sir." Lebowitz translated.
"Point taken." I said.

An hour or so later the rest of the troop had returned carrying an assortment of crude weapons.

While the Orangutan gave out the arms to the creature who most suited the various armaments faun Lebowitz and I studied the surrounding terrain and formulated our plan off attack. Traps were made and planted in the surrounding forest and well armed sentries were placed at strategic places.

With less than an hour until sunset Lebowitz called the troops to order and made a speech.

"Fellow fighters!" He began, "Today we fight for our land, for our children and for our right to live as free animals! We shall not go without a fight! We have the Gods on our side and the great warrior Ross Douglas, slayer of General Itsy, dispatcher of the Easter Bunny and kicker of the black hoardes arse!"

I looked at faun Lebowitz and raised an eyebrow in a questioning gesture. He just smiled and continued rousing the troops into a frenzy. "This human may not be of our land but he fights with us so that we may defeat the enemy of us all and we shall walk in OUR kingdom on OUR terms as Free men, Free Badgers, Free Bears..."

I heard a small voice in the crowd say, "Did he just say free beers?"

Faun Lebowitz repeated his self. Louder. "Free Bears, Free Otters and Free Stags! Now the time draws near when we must stand as one, joined in revolution against the common enemy!"

I looked around at the creatures before me and wondered how many would end the night by giving their lives. A sense of dread passed over me as I looked at Faun Lebowitz and knew then and there that he would be one of the ones not to see the next day.

"The sun sets over the horizon but it will rise again in the morrow, yet it will not shine on the same land, NO! IT WILL SHINE ON A FREE LAND... OUR LAND!"

The gathering of creatures roared and yelled their battle cries. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I felt the adrenalin pumping through my veins. As the sun dipped below the horizon and darkness descended I gave the battle call. "Positions!"

Creatures scattered to their pre-arranged positions and waited for the black hoarde to attack.

I had figured that the leader of the black hoarde would have singled me out as his to kill so I positioned myself beside Faun Lebowitz where I could keep an eye on him and help him if he got into trouble. Little did I know that Lebowitz would give his life to save mine.

Within minutes of the sun setting the hoarde arrived. As one they attacked. Creatures fought bravely and died where they stood. The hoarde had made it through our first line of defense.

Some of the hoarde died by falling into the traps we had set in the most likely places of attack but still they came. The traps we had set dispatched more than a dozen of the hoarde and still they came. As the creatures retreated into the clearing around the altar as they had been instructed a call went up.

"LIGHT THE FIRES!"

All around the clearing a trench had been dug and filled with the most flamable material available to us. There was no equivalent of petrol in this land but one of the dwarf humans grandfater had a history in alchemy and he had the foresight to store enough blackpowder to level a mountain.

The edges of the clearing erupted in flame and the trees around the edge were soon ablaze.

The fire took many of the hoarde to the next life and the light kept them back for a while. But not long. The fires had burned brightly for only a few minutes but now it was sufficiently dark enough to allow them to enter the clearing.

The hoarde leader was last to enter the clearing. As forest creatures and the hoarde battled around the altar I spotted it approaching. Its skin was dripping with the blood of the forest creatures it had slain during the early stages of the battle. The look in its eyes was one of pure hatred.

With very little effort it sliced and slashed its way towards the altar. "Human! I come for you!" It yelled. " Fuck it, I thought and leapt from the altar. Lebowitz and Dell took flanking positions and the Orangutan defended my rear. Once in a while I would hear a loud slap like a fish hitting concrete and a gleeful "OOK!" from behind me.

The hoarde leader stood about ten feet from me. It didn't attack me though. It stood its ground and killed anything that took what they thought was a chance to dispatch it to the next world.

"Your army dwindles human, see how they die at the hands of my brethren." The hoarde learde said with a palpable venom in its voice.

"Not for long they don't." I said, dropping to the ground and shouting "NOW!" as I covered my head. The forest creatures all dropped to the ground when the call went up and the second, and much larger, fires were lit. The black hoarde died as soon as the firelight hit them.

When the noise of the hoarde screaming in their death throws had stooped I stood up and looked around. My plan had worked. There was no black hoarde left in the clearing.

Faun Lebowitz stood up and gave the all clear. We had done it. We had defeated the black hoarde.

From behind me I heard a proud "OOK OOK OOK!" and turned to see the Orangutan standing on the altar with its arms above its head.
"What's he saying?" I asked Faun Lebowitz.
"We kicked arse." Lebowitz translated.
I smiled at Lebowitz and said "We certainly did. We certainly did."

Just then there was a scream. I looked to where the scream had emmited and saw a bloodstained otter pointing upwards. The leader of the black hoarde dropped onto the altar, knocking the Orangutab off its temporary victory perch and then it threw itself at me.

As the hoarde leader flew towards me faun Lebowitz threw himself at the hoarde leader and deflected it from its trajectory. The hoarde leader and faun Lebowitz rolled along the ground fighting as they went. I watched helplessly as the killing blow of the hoarde leaders talons sank into the torso of faun Lebowitz and let out a small involuntary cry.

As the life drained from faun lebowitz's eyes the faun seemed to realise that his time was done.

With the last ounce of strength in his body faun lebowitz sank his teeth into the neck of the hoarde leader and ripped a hunk out of its throat. Green blood spurted into the air like a loose hosepipe as the hoarde leader died.

And so it ended. The battle was won but no one was celebrating. Too many friends and comrades had died. Too much blood had been spilt and too many creatures had been injured and permanently scarred. Both in mind and body.

The sun rose the next day over a free land where faun Lebowitz's children were safely back with their mother and the black hoarde no longer roamed spreading fear and terror wherever they went.

And Me? I was escorted to a shaded valley by the Orangutan where a large scots pine stood alone in the glade. The Orangutan pushed a knothole in the trunk of the tree and a door sprung open. On the other side I could see my hallway.

"Ook." The orangutan said.
"That's goodbye then?" I asked.
"Ook ook." It replied.

The orangutan took my hand and lead me through the doorway. We stepped into my hallway and the orangutan closed the cupboard door behind us. The orangutan took the doorkey out of the keyhole, tasted it apprehensively and bent it double.

"And how do you plan on getting back to your land?" I asked, not really wanting to have to explain to my neighbours why I had suddenly aquired a very hairy and rather smelly flatmate.

"Ook." It replied, pointing at the cupboard door.
"You just locked it and bent the key. I don't have another one." I said.
The orangutan smiled its singular smile turned the handle of the cupboard door.

The cupboard door swung open to my amazement and inside my cupboard I saw a long passageway filled with large dusty books. "Ook." Said the orangutan and stepped inside.

The orangutan extended its hand and shook mine. "Ook ook ook ook, ook ook ook." It said, releasing my hand and closing the door.

I immediatly turned the door handle and found that the door was locked. Possibly forever.

The End.

* The carachter of the Orangutan was borrowed from Terry Pratchett's Diskworld novels and can be found living the life of a librarian in the city of Ankh Morpork. (Where he spends his time wondering just how humans can be so clever and so stupid at the same time and eating bananas.)