this could be my fortune...

Many thanks to those people who contacted me requiring more information about the use of large brass hounds as a fitness aid. Due to your enthusiasm and the encouragement I received I am planning my presentation for “Dragons Den” now. I’m planning a range of different sizes and weights of brass hounds, from Chihuahuas for weak asthmatic children to Irish wolf hounds for Steroid freaks.

I hope that within a year (two at most) talk of brass hounds will be as common in the workplace as talk of gym memberships, squash games and Pilates classes are now- “Oh hi there Nick-how’s the brass hound training going? Not bad at all thanks Bill-I’ve just moved up to a red setter this week…”Phew, good work Nick!””

It will be worth it purely for the reactions from the “Dragons”. I long to see Duncan “Popeye” Bannatyne cravenly begging me for the opportunity to invest so he can incorporate them into his “Leisure Empire” whilst that dreadful sour faced old harridan in the grey baggy suit looks on, looking like she’s desperately holding in a four day old curry shit.

I wouldn’t let Peter Jones invest though, as he is a cunt. I’m not sure what it is about him, but whenever I see him, and regardless of what he is saying or doing, all I can see and hear is a small fat toddler, covered in it’s own shit, in a nappy shouting “Look at me mummy! Look at me! I DID A POO! I’m a clever boy! Look at me! Look at me!”.

I find it amusing that the “Dragons” themselves, for all their arrogance and swagger, never seem to get into the lists published of the super rich of the world-those that contain Bill Gates, Roman Abramovich, Lakshmi Mittal, The Sultan of Brunei and so forth. In those kind of circles these appalling near-caricatures of capitalism would rank only slightly above white trash lottery winners in mock Tudor Essex mansions.

What I’d like to see is someone extremely successful (and seemingly not as much of a cunt) like Richard Branson appearing on “Dragons Den” and saying “this is my new idea-it’s worth a fortune and it’s all mine, you utter scoundrels, and you can all beg like the craven spavined mongrels that you are for the scraps from my dinner table, for I AM A SELF MADE MAN AND I COULD BUY YOU!”.

I’m thoroughly sick of people telling us how we should live.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/health/healthy_living - stuff like this....

Although I personally try to lead a healthy and active lifestyle, and don’t feel that I m in a position to lecture to others how best to live their lives-if you want to sit about your sofa and eat pizza by all means do so… Similarly, I am an ex-smoker and although I am now vehemently anti-smoking I recognise the individual’s right to smoke. Except in restaurants, you filthy, dirty bastards…

I am writing this as it seems increasingly difficult to escape from this attitude in the media. I also don’t like it because it is cheap and easy journalism-everyone knows what’s bad for them, and what it will do to us. Everyone with any sense has looked at the facts and decided on their own “enjoyment”:”fear of early death” ratio, so it’s all preaching to the converted really-nothing anyone says will make a blind bit of difference. We don’t need more programs telling us that if we eat chips every day we get fat, ugly and can’t walk up stairs as we are fully aware of it. If you aren’t aware of it you are too stupid to live and will drown in your own fat. If it was something we worried about we do something about it, if it isn’t we don’t.

Health and fitness wasn’t something we used to worry about, people just got on with their lives. My grandfather smoked about 40 cigarettes a day and drank several pints of mild during lunchtime, but got his fitness and prodigious strength from being a steelworker, and also from carrying with him at all other times a life size cast metal statue of a beagle.

Lumping around this huge lump of metal gave him enormous amounts of endurance and amazing upper body strength with a grip like a vice.

I remember as a child watching him flex his biceps and saying to me “Look at that lad! Look at the size of them! That’s all down to my brass hound.”

After his untimely death in the early 90’s the brass beagle was passed into the hands of my eldest cousin Michael, who is now a veritable goliath of a man.

There's a moral there somewhere...

Murder, death, kill…Murder, death, kill…

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk_politics/code red emergency...

This is a great idea, hopefully it will soon be updated in real time. As I am always one to play good odds I am going to consult this before I leave the house each day, the same as I would the weather just so I know what to expect.

“Hmmm…. It looks like low car crime day with an increased chance of mugging coming in from the west this afternoon. I’d better take a big fucking stick out with me…”

I can also use it to calculate my statistical likelihood of being murdered, as if there hasn’t been one for some time, I will certainly be more wary of leaving the house. However if some other poor bastard has just been killed I can go on my merry way, knowing that it’s statistically unlikely for 2 people to be murdered in the city in quick succession.

All in all, a wonderful tool…

is there anybody still out there?

Due to a bizarre misadventure I have spent most of the last month or so in the care of the NHS, an experience I have found to be one of the great levellers in life (hence no chance to vent spleen via the blog).

Spending any significant amount of time on a hospital ward certainly puts you in touch with sectors of society you would not otherwise meet, or at least if you did you would generally shoot first and ask questions of them later.

Befoere I go on to pour scorn and bile over vermin in my usual manner I would like to make a special mention on the subject of nurses and other NHS staff. Despite the massive amount of bad press in the media egaridng these fine poele, without fail, each and every member of NHS staff I dealt with from cleaners to consultants were professional, polite and friendly, in marked contrast to some of the appallingly idiotic patients who treated them as, at best, as servants and at worst as adversaries.

In the beds opposite and around me there were variously:

a) A very, very stupid man who had been admitted after being bitten by his own attack dog so hard it had broken his arm, apparently not for the first time. He refused to inform the police as they would have put the beast down. Why someone wants an attack dog that randomly attacks it’s own owner I have no idea.

b) A filthy looking young man who was genuinely upset and surprised that you were not allowed to smoke on the wards. He cheered himself up with the small bottle of meths he had smuggled in.

c) An old and very unkempt man who although appearing quite harmless, would often wake up in the middle of the night and shout random things to nurses, such as “You can’t keep a fucking dog in here!” or “put it on the sideboard, I’ll cook it in the morning” at the top of his voice,

d) 2 chavs who had stolen a motorcycle and driven it into a telephone pole whilst travelling at 120 mph. remarkably both survived. I suspect karma must not have had its eye on the ball that day.

e) A witless man from Wakefield who felt compelled to spend several hours each day calling over nursing staff then describing in great detail his bowel movements; “Eh, nurse. I just spent 2 hours trying to push one out. Very dry it was. Thought I’d got it out, then it got sucked back in…” etc.

Thankfully I was able to become part of a suitably middle class enclave of people as disbelieving of the sheer fuckwittedness of many patients as I was.

An example of the above would be (bearing in mind we were on what was to all intents and purposes a surgical ward) inviting in about 10 of your unwashed shit thick mates, all dressed in their filthy clothes and eating dodgy takeaways. I can’t help but think that infections such as MRSA are less the hospital’s fault and far more the visitors. It was made even more fun when they all started arguing with their girlfriends when the nurses threw them out…. Oh yes, and then some of them turning up late and getting angry because you weren’t allowed in outside the clearly posted visiting hours…

My solution to this kind of problem, as ever would be along the lines of “If you don’t contribute, you can have a plaster then fuck off and die in the gutter”.

Luckily I was able to recuperate at home, and was able to familiarise myself once again with the wonders of Jeremy Kyle (who appears to be approaching meltdown).

For those who haven’t yet had the pleasure of watching (and shame on you) a normal episode will normally follow this format:

Some gap toothed rodent of a man has been slinging it up a couple of fat birds. He’s married to one of them, the other is his cousin. They are both complaining about it for reasons that they are not able to fully articulate. Jeremy shouts at them and tells them to act like adults and get jobs.

Next, a woman who looks like Rod Stewart comes on who has had 17 kids-she’s not sure which man is father to which child and so has got a couple of “possibles” on the stage and would like a DNA test so she can decide which one of them to start shouting at for not giving her any money. Some times it’s none of the “possibles” and she has to start thinking about who else it could be, and how she could get money out of them. Jeremy shouts at them and tells them to act like parents and get jobs.

A couple of pond dwellers with neck tattoos come on to complain that one/both/either of them is an alcoholic and bellow about how it is “tearing us apart, Jeremy” (actually stopping drinking, or even the fact they with or without drink their lives would still be pointless hasn’t occurred to them). Jeremy shouts at them and tells them to stop drinking and get jobs.

A pram faced eighteen year old slattern with her hair in a scrunchie comes on to complain that her mother abandoned her as a child and “put her in care, innit?” They then bring on her mother, who looks like Giant Haystacks with a cunt, who then attempts to justfy herself, whilst munching on a Greggs pasty. Jeremy shouts at them and tells them to reconcile with Each other and get jobs.

Everything I have written above is actually real life for some people… God help them…

The worlds smallest nightclub...

You know those blokes that are so desperate for freedom, but just don’t have the balls to kill their wives and be done with it, that they escape from real life by turning their sheds into “Guildford’s smallest pub” or something, conveniently forgetting that the main thing that makes pubs nice places to be is that other people are there, so you don’t have to just sit there in solitude drinking heavily and thinking dark, dark thoughts. Although you still can if you want to of course…

Although I’m fairly happy with my life, as part of my mid life crisis (which I can feel accelerating towards me from beyond the horizon like a big fucking train) I’m going to go one step further and convert my shed into a nightclub. To make it fully authentic I’m going to approach local criminals for backing money, then deck out the shed with unpleasant sticky carpets, uncomfortable chairs and fucking awful wallpaper and install a glitter globe, then change myself £8 for a bottle of Blue WKD.

To maintain pretence of exclusivity some nights I will work on the door and prevent myself from gaining entry, claiming I have breached some preposterous unwritten dress code and then manufacturing lies about me starting fights the week before. I may even perhaps also occasionally beat the shit out of myself behind the bins if I deem myself “a bit fucking mouthy” for asking where the toilets are.

Those would be the bad nights though-on the good nights I would dance the night away to classic tunes, and I might even get lucky and suck myself off in the toilets…

Kristallnacht anyone?

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/we're poor but proud-Pakis out!!!!

Can’t decide whether this is a bit scary, or just something that everyone should consider it their civic duty to take the piss out of. It’s like a scene from "This is England" isn’t it?

This kind of thing seems to have been on the increase for the last few years. Not sure why, but I’m fairly sure that extreme stupidity may be a factor.

What do you get when you mix cheap alcohol with a simmering resentment against foreigners? Hurrah!! A new national holiday!

Lets all spend the end of the night stumbling about on a roundabout wearing a St George’s Flag wrapped around our cocks and waving a plastic sword. That will show those foreign cunts that England is still a force to be reckoned with on the world stage!

Oddly enough St George was himself Asian. It’s true, but if you try to tell anyone that you will get lynched. Everyone seems to think he came from Castleford or something. “Our beloved St George? A Fucking Slant-eye Sooty Bastard Turk Fucker? Fuck Off!!!”. Fools, fools…

To be honest, this “festival” does seem to be quite innocuous and mainly "Merrie England" ” type bollocks. It’s just I don’t trust any event where people are wearing national dress and smiling too much.

Doubtless this fuckwittedness will be reflected in the local elections. The last time I voted I was given the choice of:

• ·Labour (indistinguishable from Conservative)
• ·Liberal (pointless by it’s very nature_
• ·Conservative (indistinguishable from Labour)
• ·The BNP (the friendly face of fascism)
• ·A party with a name like “National Democrats” (which although innocuous sounding are fucking nutbags and apparently even the BNP have told it’s members to distance themselves from them)
• ·Some form of even more extreme “Super Nazi” party whose name I forget (whose only policy was along the lines of “we will drive around the area in sinister black van with a colour chart, shooting people who are on the darker side-oh yes, and we’ll keep the Post Office open”)

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I don’t want to live in a Nazi Police state, and it is nice that we're being asked…

On an unrelated note, over the last few months I seem to be getting comments on this blog from people I’ve never heard of before. Thanks, it’s most appreciated

The unexpected effects of some incredibly strong pain killers…

In the absence of any paracetamol I asked around the office for some pian killers earlier this morning for a headache I had. I was offered a number of products, including what appears to be a codeine based drug called Solpadol, which has turned out to be fucking brilliant.

It’s one of those “WARNING-don’t make any fucking plans” type opiate drugs. Most of my previous experiences of drugs were with stimulants and/or psychoactive drugs, and I have had very little exposure to prescriptions or opiate type drugs so I am really noticing the difference-I’m actually being pleasant to people. Mmmmmm…. Warm and fuzzy…….

One other notable side effect of it is that I am having trouble carrying out complex tasks, or indeed following conversations. I just sit here letting it all wash over me. I think this is what it must be like to be thick! It’s not that bad really you know. I certainly feel I can relate better to a lot of my colleagues at the moment as well.

In the past I’d always felt a bit sorry for stupid people (I think lots of people are-we sometimes wonder whether it hurts as well) but there really isn’t any need to be. They are really quite happy bumbling along eating their Gregg’s pasties and talking about soap operas. They merely require their bread and circuses and all is well with their small closed worlds.

I do however have some concerns regarding their productivity-I’m a bit thick today and I simply can’t work hard enough or fast enough to do my job adequately. Consistently thick people must cost the economy of this country unimaginable sums of money each year.

Is there nothing that can be done?

I’m getting a message from the other side…

Is there someone out there called John?

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/credulous fools

Looks like they are finally doing something about fucking “mediums”. About fucking time too. At best they are misguided fat women with too many cats and far too much imagination and at worst they are fraudulent shysters preying on the most vulnerable and gullible sectors of society.

The Spiritualist Workers association has complained because they believe that what they do is part of a valid religious framework (and not an excuse to print money with impunity at all) and so they should be allowed to continue talking in funny voices whilst clawing the cash in.

On the face of it I’ve personally got nothing against people exploiting those in vulnerable positions (that would be rather churlish since I’ve been trying to persuade people in social services care that I am the “God of Downs Syndrome"), it’s the ham-fisted Victorian parlour trickery of it coupled with the woolly minded gullibility of the victims that really pisses me off, combined with my drastically rationalistic view of the world.

There’s no “God” in this universe, there’s no such thing as “magic” and Harry fucking Potter isn’t real either.

I think people with these kinds of attitudes are anachronisms. You know who believed in Spirituality? Adolf Hitler-that’s who. You know else believes in spirituality? Cilla Black-that’s who. I rest my case.

Their current angry response to this issue also begs the question-Did they not see this coming?

Who knew there were that many of them?

Yikes...

The Wee Tiny Folk

More than enough for a few sequels to “Time Bandits” anyway…

Sooty’s looking good

Because I am becoming a boring middle aged old fart I happened to watch Locks and Quays last night (my excuse is that it was about Leeds). It’s presented by Mathew Corbett (the bloke who used to do “Sooty” when we were kids) who mysteriously still looks exactly the same as he did about 25 years ago.

For a bloke who’s about 60, he’s in fantastic shape, which leads me to believe that the secret of looking young in late middle age is not exercise, diet, cholesterol monitoring or moisturising creams with unlikely ingredients, but is in fact simple hand puppetry.

I think it’s worth a try anyway. I think about half an hour a week spent with a pair of old socks on my hands should suffice.

If you’re not a revolutionary when you’re 20, you haven’t got a heart. If you’re not a reactionary by the time you’re 30, you haven’t got a brain…

Well, everything I have ever said about the underclass appears to be vindicated by this:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/west_yorkshire/7337258.stm

I’ve not had chance to comment on this situation before. Thankfully I’ve not needed to, as the television coverage of vermin dancing in the streets of west Yorkshire in “support” of the family has described the situation far better than I ever could. There’s not that many places where they could hold an impromptu street party in the early afternoon of a workday and everybody on the estate could attend is there?

It would appear that pretty much the entire family of the poor girl are in some way responsible for arranging the kidnapping, probably for financial gain. Nice.

Several flaws in the plan of course-a handful of extremely thick people really can’t be expected to outwit the entire west Yorkshire police force, however hard they try. It’s hardly “Ocean’s Eleven” is it?

Also most surprised to discover that Karen Mathews, despite her haggard looks (she could easily be a body double for Bella Emberg) is only 32. I suppose that’s what happens when “Mums go the Iceland”.

On an unrelated (but still extremely right wing) note, does anyone else think that as they are paying through the nose for these fuckwits to breed we should at least have a say in how the children are brought up?

Several hundred pounds are taken out of my wage each month to support the feckless- I imagine that should pay for at least a couple of their brats. In much the same way that you can sponsor a child in the developing world (cue voiceover advert: “Just £10 a day will keep Chardonnay-Topaz’s mother in Blue WKD and Lambert & Butler” or “Kelly –Marie has to walk up to 500 yards each day to buy Pot Noodles to feed her family”), I’d like to know the names of the ones I’m paying for, and would appreciate regular reports of their progress. In the sprit if Victorian Philanthropism I’d like to pay for them to go to a decent military school, in hopes that this might break the cycle of dependency.

Tough love-that’s what I’m all about…

Jeremy Kyle is the true prophet…

I have said some unpleasant things about this man in the past:

the undeserving poor

Jeremy Kyle-bread and circuses...

I take them all back. This man hates with an even deeper passion that I am capable of, and yet manages to cover it up with a thin veneer of “caring”

I have recently found that a combination of sleep deprivation and repeated viewings of the Jeremy Kyle show is a useful and effective psychological technique for creating Nazis.

I really cannot fault his pleb goading skills…absolutely masterful-the contempt just shines through as well. I want his job, or one like it, however I think the only other way in which you can be paid for being unpleasant to extremely thick people on the dole is to work in a Jobcentre: “Have you, in the last 2 weeks, done any work, paid or unpaid? Have you, in the last 2 weeks even bothered changing your clothes or showering? Didn’t think so…”

On an unrelated note the 5 bellied Fuck Pig has left the company. Rejoice! No longer will I hear behind my chair the unpleasant wheezing noises generated by her flabby, bloated, stinking carcass as it attempts to heave it’s way through another day without expiring under it’s own immense weight. I don’t know where she’s working now, but shouldn’t be difficult to find out. There can’t be that many companies with ready access to the type of scales normally used to weigh cattle.

For those of you that care, my apologies for the lack of updates recently.

I just don’t have the words for this…

I just don’t have the words for this…

But I’ll try:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/bristol/Dozy Cunt...

Don’t know about you, but this restored my faith in humanity. It’s nice to know there are millions of people who not prepared to put up with this kind of thing.

Don’t you just love it when hippies get disappointed by things? I think it’s his note of wounded pride that makes me laugh out loud the most. The cretin-planning to walk for 2 ½ years to India without once touching money, and relying on the good faith of humanity? Apparently doesn’t realise most people’s priorities are (in pretty much this order) their families, their friends, and then their local communities and so on. Half arsed freeloading new age fools come somewhere at the bottom of the list (just below puffins, but slightly above Sandi Toksvig)

Hmmmm… can I order an annoying hippie twat with a side order of blinkered self importance please? Oh yes, and can I have some pretentiousness with that please?

The fucking idiot didn’t even bother to learn any languages, and was just planning to survive by offering his skills to people in return for food. Because web authoring skills are just what would required by subsistence level farmers in the developing world in return for the last of their family's rice.

The man is a complete fool. This is one for his journal entries "...not only did no one not speak the language, they had also seen us as just a bunch of freeloading backpackers, which is the complete opposite of what the pilgrimage is really about.” See what I mean about the note of self-pitying self justification?

You’re in another country, begging for food with no money and no language skills and you have nothing of value to offer. Yet you expect people to speak English and feed you. That’s exactly what it’s really about mate…

Apparently he’s quite keen on the idea of a “freeconomy”. The twee fucking wanker. That’s all very well if you’re an affluent Trustafarian prick (I don’t even need to check this, I just know he is), but for everyone else who has to rely on themselves to actually survive it’s a slightly different matter. The world owes you nothing mate-if you put nothing in, you get nothing out. Get fucking used to it.

I hate hippes….

Ross Kemp’s Karmic Frying Pan Catharsis Show

I had this idea a few nights ago after watching about 4 seconds of “Ultimate Force” starring Ross Kemp. I was reminded of it when I saw this rather amusing article.

I’m a bit fucking sick of this man and his bizarre “hard man” posturing. Where does it come from? Certainly not any reputation other than that of characters he has flicking played on rubbish TV. How the fuck did that happen? It seems to be a case of “life imitating Plebdazzle garbage TV”.

The end of the show will consist of me and Kemp fighting in a series of deserted garages with large, and very solid, frying pans. The show will end with me victorious, standing above Kemp spitting and hurling incoherent abuse at his smug fucking face.

The other part of the show will consist of an actor pretending to be Kemp’s mentally retarded younger brother (naturally without Kemp's knowledge) visiting various large cites and getting his cock out on busy thoroughfares.

Around his neck will be a piece of string and a small piece of card saying “I am Ross Kemp’s retarded younger brother-in case of any “incidents” please call Ross Kemp for assistance-a monetary reward may be forthcoming”. The idea being Ross Kemp will get a phone call from a different Police force every week asking him to come and collect his brother from Bristol or wherever as he has been “making a bit of a scene”.

I plan to do this every week just to see how he reacts and until the tabloids produce a headline like “TV STAR GRANT MITCHELL TELLS SPASTIC BROTHER TO FUCK OFF”, at which point his career will be effectively over.

Objections to the “DNA database”

Is it just me, or has there been a hell of a lot of coverage recently regarding the use of forensic teams and techniques to clear up unsolved murder cases? In the last week alone we have sent the sentencing of several random maniacs, whose convictions would not have been possible without the use of technology and/or men with glasses.

In fact, you can’t turn on the news without it looking like an episode of “CSI: Dull Provincial Town” with policemen dressed in white jumpsuits rooting through bins or whatever.

The increased media coverage of this kind of crime detection does of course have an ulterior motive-to promote the proposed “DNA database”.

Like most people in the country I am unsure of the exact nature of this database, and whether or not it is actually a valid proposal by the government, and am woefully ignorant of what kind of data will kep and how it will be collated/used. However, despite that, like everyone else in the country this will of course not prevent me from having an opinion that I am only to willing to share at the slightest provocation.

My main bugbear at present is that the TV is constantly interrupted by middle class liberals claiming that this is a direct violation of our human rights (presumably on the grounds that they are terrified they might now be arrested and sent to prison for smoking a joint in 1992).

In an era where so many more aspects of our lives are public domain (often at our own request) it seems very churlish to reject this idea out of hand because it is in some nebulous way “intrusive”. No more intrusive that posting your details on social networking site I would say, except it might actually help you (or a loved one) as opposed to just resulting in a barrage of messages from various human detritus you went to school with, asking for money for their crackpot and addle-pated money making schemes.

I’m more than happy for my data to be added, if only because I’m fairly certain I’m not the kind of person who is likely to go on a murderous rampage (although regular readers may be surprised to learn this) and that the presence of my data on such a database would help to exclude myself (and millions of others) from the enquiry, thereby increasing the chances that the true culprit would be found.

On the other hand, if I am stupid or unlucky enough to actually commit a crime, surely I really can’t be in a position to complain if I actually am convicted? I can’t say “I strongly object to this project on ethical grounds and do not wish to be part of it, as I have not yet entirely ruled out the possibility of killing a few people in the coming years (possibly just to keep me active throughout retirement)”.

There are numerous concerns of course-the most common being that other people in the world could conceivably have the same genetic data. My answer to that is that if you actually get convicted for a crime carried out by your Chinese doppelganger, the universe must hate you for a very valid reason.

DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL, CHINESE DOPPELGANGERS!!!!

What would you do if you had a clone?

The recent South East Asian Scientific break through regarding animal cloning prompted a discussion amongst the office staff along the lines of “If you had clones, what would you make them do?”, which gave rise to such witty little bon mots as “Oh, I’d make it do the gardening! Ha ha ha”. This is about as funny as it gets here some days.

How bloody boring. If I had clones I would pit them against each other in brutal Gladiatorial contests then fuck the winner and then we would feast together on the loser…

I have seen the future, and it is stupid....

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/The Terminator is coming...

I’m quite surprised by this-I thought computers were already cleverer than we were. At least, working here you’d be forgiven for thing so. According to the article, by 2029 they will be our equal. In this place computer intelligence outstripped that of humans in 1963. I have a washing machine more intelligent than many of my colleagues.

It’s the start of the dark times. “Tiny robots implanted in people's brains” indeed? You can just fuck off mate. This kind of restless and rampant tinkering will lead to no good, mark my words.

I also find it disturbing that this self proclaimed “inventor” claims that artificial intelligence will match our own and will“(include) Emotional intelligence”. This isn’t something I really want to hear from a computer programmer. Is he referring to the emotional intelligence of someone who has brought themselves up in front of a computer, never had a social orgasm and who genuinely gives a shit about linux, or a normal person’s emotional intelligence? There is quite a big difference really isn’t there-very few people have any interest or enthusiasm about the development of an artificial intelligence that (figuratively at least) sits around in its underpants playing “World of Warcraft”, writing “Harry Potter” pornographic fan-fiction and eating crisps.

Hopefully we will have found a way to stop this by 2029 anyway, and returned to the more sane realms of steam power and Empire building.

Fucking cretins…

Have you seen this? Absurd…

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/daft bitch imagines ghosts...

This is beyond ridiculous. Clearly Jeremy Kyle wasn’t enough excitement for this woman and she has had to add even more pseudo-drama to her pathetic little life. I really can’t articulate just how much contempt I have for this person. I am literally speechless with internalised rage.

Why someone felt they should and could approach a 21^st century housing authority with a medieval problem baffles me. What is more bizarre, is that they actually forked out for someone even more deluded to come round and “fix” the “problem”. Look at them both-have you ever seen such empty, witless eyes on a pair of human beings before? There’s really nothing happening in those minds is there? Nothing at all-they might as well just be made into soap for all the difference they are going to make.

My attitude to this whole situation has not been helped by some discussions in the office about this. Both the “five bellied fuck pig” and the “woman who sounds like Johnny Vegas” have been discussing their own various paranormal experiences. Which one was that ladies? The time that ghost came in and ate all the fucking pies?

Tits, fighting, gout, flintlock pistols, whores, gin and hanging…

No, not my plans for a happy and fulfilling retirement (although you would be forgiven for thinking so), but a reasonable synopsis of the series City of Vice which finished last night. I thoroughly enjoyed every episode.

If they repeat it I advise you watch it…

Whingeing little fuckers

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/IT'S SO UNFAIR!!!!

What exactly is the problem with this? My standard response to this kind of thing is exactly what you would expect of a retired Indian Army Colonel: “What’s wrong with National Service??? Pull yourself up by your damn bootstraps boy!!! This bloody country has gone to the dogs!!! Etc.

BBC breakfast this morning featured an interview with a “teenage rights campaigner”. I’ve no doubt the young man in question was a fine, clean living, upstanding young man, however his presence prompted 2 questions in my mind:

a) What the hell are you going to do when you grow up? And somewhat uncharitably, the wish that we never have to share an office.

And

b) Just what platform are you campaigning from, you vainglorious little shit? “Teenager’s Rights” indeed? Absurd-you don’t pay any tax, you have no responsibilities and you’re only a teenager for seven years anyway you arrogant fucker, and I’ve got a pair of fucking shoes older than that, so are far as I am concerned you can just fuck right off.

Shami Chakrabati can just fuck right off too. She claims this device can have no place in a society that values children. Bollocks. Any society that claims to value children must also take responsibility for ensuring they are brought up with discipline and a sense of responsibility and citizenship. As this appears to be lacking from many parents I’m quite happy for some kind of ultra sonic space-age siren thing to do the job instead.

"What type of society uses a low-level sonic weapon on its children? Imagine the outcry if a device was introduced that caused blanket discomfort to people of one race or gender, rather than to our kids," she has said.

Point 1-this is not a “low-level sonic weapon” as pretty much by definition, a weapon causes death or lasting harm and this does neither. It’s just a bit annoying for them.

Point 2-this device is clearly not being used to cause discomfort to specific gender or ethnic groups, nor has anyone any plans to do so. It’s really quite democratic actually, as it causes discomfort to everybody’s kids. As no one has even suggested such a thing so it’s a bit like saying “Imagine if our country started eating old people, rather than cows” apropos of nothing.

I also suspect that when Ms Chakrabati goes out to buy some milk from her local shop she doesn’t have to run a gauntlet of irritating little fuckers throwing bottles at each other and asking you to buy alcopops and 10 Regal kingsize for them. Then complaining that I mark the prices up by a few pence.

Oh Christ, there’s even more…

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk_politics/do we live in Alabama?

Marrying cousins? Send shivers down your spine and brings bile to your throat doesn’t it?

It's a bit like when you wake up from one of those inappropriate sex dreams and all you have left in your head is a fuzzy memory of Thora Hird demanding that you “Give me all your hard cock, baby” or something.

Still, it would be a boring old world if we were all the same wouldn’t it?

RIP Roy Scheider

Damn shame-Jaws was a fucking good film. It also means that there won’t be another series of “SeaQuest DSV” either (sorry folks1), but I think we can all live with that, can’t we?

In honour of his passing I’d like to print (without their permission) the lyrics from the Gallows song “In the Belly of a Shark”.

So here I lie
In the belly of a shark
So fucking cold and so fucking dark
So here I lie
In the belly of a shark
How the fuck did I get this far
Now All I have to do is swim after you
Convince you to climb in to
Cut yourself first
They can smell your blood
From forty miles away
They’ll be here in no time
So here I lie
In the belly of a shark
So fucking cold and so fucking dark
So here I lie
So here I lie
In the belly of a shark
How the fuck did I get this far
I’m gonna show you
Exactly what you mean to me
I’m gonna eat every man that you see
I’m gonna show you
Exactly what you mean to me
I’m gonna eat every man that you see

On second thoughts, perhaps it not the best eulogy in the world.

Perhaps we could all sing it together, every year, on the anniversary of his passing? I think it's what he would have wanted.

Sorry Roy, I did my best…

The Undeserving Poor...

Sometimes I think I’ve turned into a monster, with my terrible right wing, knee jerk, Daily Mail, reactionary comments to almost every single thing in the news.

It’s a far cry from the young, idealistic principled man I used to be. Sometimes I mourn that loss of innocence, and wish I could be a little more forgiving, a little more understanding.

And then I read something like this:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/just what is wrong with your fucking wiring?

And I know I’m right. If there is ever a case for mass euthanasia this really is it…

What would possesses peoples to do this? Normal people don’t think: “hmm… what an edifying and intellectually satisfying episode of Jeremy Kyle that was. I shall never look at my pregnant girlfriend/sister in the same way again. Not being gainfully employed, it seems I’ve got a couple of hours to kill before Trisha Goddard starts. Now, shall I cook some delicious McCain’s Microchips, or shall I just try to kill some members of the emergency services?”.

You can talk about “disenfranchisement” and “the need to reengage with society” as much as you like. These people are just scum.

Does anyone else think that many council sink estates would be much nicer if they were made into lakes?

The Lustful Turk…

Today’s update has been replaced with an excerpt from “The Lustful Turk” (or “Lascivious Scenes from a Harem”) written in 1828.

Normal service will be resumed once my tumescence has subsided.

“It was the first liberty of the kind I ever sustained. You may guess the shock it first gave me, but you will scarcely credit it when I own that my indignation was not of long continuance. Nature, too powerful nature, had become alarmed and assisted his lascivious proceedings, conveying his kisses, brutal as they were, to the inmost recesses of my heart. On a sudden, new and wild sensations blended with my shame and rage, which exerted themselves but faintly; in fact, Silvia, in a few short moments his kisses and his tongue threw my senses into a complete tumult, an unknown fire rushed through every part of me, hurried by a strange pleasure. All my loud cries dwindled into gentle sighs, and in spite of my inward rage and grief, I could not resist, so wanting strength for self-defence, I could only bewail my situation. I told you he had me on his knees, with one of his arms round my neck. Finding how little I resisted, and having me thus with our lips closely joined, his other hand he suddenly thrust under my petticoats. Aroused by this vital insult, I strove to break from his arms, but it was of no use. He held me firm, my cries and reproaches he heeded not! If by my struggles I contrived to free my lips, they were quickly regained again; thus with his hand and his lips he kept me in the greatest disorder, whilst in proportion as it increased I felt my fury and strength diminish. At last a dizzy sensation seized on every sense. I felt his hand rapidly divide my thighs, and quickly one of his fingers penetrated that place which, God knows, no male hand had ever before touched. If anything was wanting to complete my confusion, it was the thrilling sensation I felt, caused by the touches of his finger.”

Over my dead body…

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/Stone the infidels!!!!

I can’t believe there’s not more outright condemnation of this idea. I’m disgusted to think that in a secular country such as ours this idea is even sanctioned. Has everyone gone fucking mad?

Why should anyone live under religious law? This country spent many centuries dragging itself out of this kind of lunatic feudalistic shit-headedness, only to be dragged back into it because it celebrates “diversity” and individual freedom. Utter fucking bollocks. How can two systems of law do anything but hinder diversity and freedom, especially when one of them seems inclined to condemn women, non-Muslims and gays, (and practically everybody who is not a hard line fundamentalist Muslim)?

Yes, my views can be represented as racism of the most virulent sort, but from what I understand Sharia law does not represent true Islamic thinking (which appears, in its defence, to be considerably more forgiving than Christian law) but instead a series of antiquated cultural prejudices imported from a more brutal environment. It has no place here.

This country has a separation of church and state and I sincerely hope it always will.

I’m not surprised by the Church of England agreeing with this-they always been a bunch of useless, wishy washy wankers with no real grip on reality and a (thankfully) steadily declining influence on society…

I think I’m becoming Richard Littlejohn…

And I was under the impression that I was a Nazi…

Just been reading this:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/The poor must work or starve...

There’s not much in it I substantially disagree with, to be honest. However have just been reading some of the superb responses submitted via the website’s feedback mechanism. I quite like reading them because they makes me seem sane and reasonable.

Here are a few choice ones:

I’d have anyone without work for 6 months taken off benefits, their Children put into care and be made to dig new roads whilst living onsite in tents.

Barry Weaver, Deeside

The problem is these scroungers get too much. All an unemployed person needs is food and a roof over their head..

Dave Green

Kent

If you cannot be bothered to go out and look for work why should my taxes pay to put a roof over your head and your screaming brood. Get off your lazy backside and do something, I would sweep the streets if neccessary to feed my children.

Dave, Fareham

The system is no longer a safety net for those unfortunate to find themselves out of work, but a feather bed for the feckless

Reality Seeker, A Land of Haze

There are plenty of menial tasks that need doing all of which are necessary and will improve local communities.
If they don't like it, throw them into the streets. Put them in the gutter where they belong. It's not our responsibility to house and feed idle scum.

Keith Hutchinson, Sunderland, United Kingdom

They should be made to build roads in the baking heat or torrential rain, or made to mine salt and uranium in hellish subterranean conditions. Whatever the solution, they must be worked like dogs (like dogs I say!). If any of them fall by the wayside they must be kicked into gutters, spat upon and beaten to within an inch of their lives. Nothing must stop our progress. If they die of exhaustion their bones must be boiled for broth to feed their fellows. At all costs they must be made to pay for their insolence! To pay in Blood! There is no place in our country for those who are not prepared to give their lives for the greater good.

Or perhaps a voucher system?

Fat Edgar, A sane and just world

Not long now, you old cunt!

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/arse licking Tory shit-stick

David Cameron has abased himself at the feat of what he believes is “one of the towering figures of the past 50 years” and "the greatest peace-time prime minister of the 20th Century" who "transformed our country". Yes, by systematically dismantling it, to benefit a handful of pin-striped twats in London.

Not bad going for an insane old baggage is it? Still, thankfully she is pretty much on her last legs and I suspect (and fervently hope) it will only be a matter of a few short years before I get the opportunity to piss on her fucking grave

Forgot to mention…

City of Vice was still bloody good last night, and what’s more it showed the Irish as the filthy despicable race they are and always have been…

Dirty Northern foods of the 1980s

Never one to be afraid of jumping on the nostalgia bandwagon, and as a reaction to the rash of programs on TV in which parents claim it’s the supermarkets fault their children are too fat to move without falling over, or that they suffer a near death experience when exposed to fucking peanuts, here’s a list of just some of the terrible processed foods I was fed as a child.

I suspect that you probably can’t even buy many of them now as they were essentially made up entirely of additives and would kill a weak modern child.

However, I’m now 6’4, weigh just under 15 stone and am highly intelligent, so Jamie Oliver stick that in his pipe and fucking smoke it.

Findus Crispy pancakes

Disks of long chain polymers encasing a mixture of PVA glue and MSG. covered in orange gritty bits. Horrific.

Potato Waffles

A matrix of deep fried potato starch-if you had 5 of them, you could build a cage for gorillas you could make out of mince (if you were the kind of child who’s parents didn’t buy you many toys).

Vienetta

Sheer, unadulterated sophistication. Looked upon by the middle classes in much the same way that Ferraro Rocher are regarded today by witless fat people in your office i.e. as the height of class and taste. Also in common with Ferarro Rocher, they tasted shit.

Ice Magic

A sort of chocolate flavoured plastic that set rock hard upon contact with air or liquid. In retrospect, probably better employed mending oil rigs rather than as an ice cream condiment.

Chicken Kievs

The fate of birds that offended Bernard Mathews. Pretty much just animal by products, mealed feathers and garlic butter.

Instant Whip/Angel Delight/ Chocolate mousses in packs of 10.

Curious chemical properties that caused milk to solidify like runny tiling grout.

Artic Roll

Bland, grainy ice cream, flavoured with Cillit Bang and encircled with a layer of tasteless sponge. There is no point to this food.

All the above were punctuated by numerous offal stews and other unlikely dishes created by my mother, who was under the impression that is was 1943, and we were still under blockade by German U-boats.

Despite this diet, I have managed to get into my mid thirties without any health problems and I am as strong as a fucking bull. So fuck knows what parents are doing to their kids these days to make them so piss weak….

I only do this job so I can put turkey on the table at Christmas you know…

There’s no need for this “can do” attitude bollocks. I find it an extremely unappealing character trait, especially on a Friday afternoon...

People yapping like small dogs and agreeing enthusiastically to random tasks is really not what I want or need in the run up to the weekend.

And why is it some people put such bizarre and disparate levels of conviction and effort into the tasks assigned to them?

For instance people seem to put as much, if not more effort into arranging the fucking milk rota/next piss awful works night out as they do for the entirety of their job remit. No real sense of priority there…Do these people have no perceptual filters?

I got taken aside by someone from another department earlier to request that I advise one of my staff members that they have not been contributing sufficient amounts to the milk fund.

I’ll tell you what, you fat cunt, here’s the 20p they owe, now get your face out of that nosebag full of pies and do your fucking job…

Its political correctness gone mad…

Is this real? Are we in the 1980’s again?

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/education/patently absurd

It sounds like something that Richard Littlejohn would make up in order to wank himself into a frenzy over…

City of Vice

Watched City of Vice again last night. It’s bound to get some complaints, specifically because of a scene where black male police officer nicknamed “Jamaica Mary” tore the clothes of a young (white) transvestite, bent him over a bed and promised him he would “fuck him until the Devil blushed”. You never got that in “Poldark” did you?

There was also a scene where a man in a dress pretended to give birth to a wooden doll. It’s just as well I’m broad minded really, otherwise I'd have been a bit perturbed by it all. I think it certainly raises the bar for period dramas in general though and I hope it starts a trend to make them as offensively shocking as possible. I fully expect the next TV adaptation of “Pride and Prejudice” to include a scene in which Mr Darcy sucks off a pig whilst dressed as Hitler or something equally controversial.

I missed the end of City of Vice as there was a plumbing emergency I had to attend to in the bathroom. Shame.

not murder, just self expression...

The only thing that stops me from creeping up behind the lisping genetic detritus that is Gareth Gates and caving in the back of his skull with a claw hammer then pissing on his corpse is that he would never know who did it, or why they felt such a huge justification for doing so.

As such, it would be no more than a wasted gesture. And not a murder, for surely no jury in the land would convict me (if on the off chance they do, please could any loyal readers (should any exist) please start a campaign to “Free the Fat Edgar One”, cheers).

I don’t know what this means, but I feel a revolution coming on…

http://news.bbc.co.uk/i/business/Bloated Plutocrats feasting on swans whilst the poor live in filth...

According to this the rich are getting increasingly fatter and smugger, whilst the poor are also becoming increasingly fatter, but also more dangerous and feral than ever before.

I’m all for tossing them a few hyper rich City types to them that they can tear to pieces, to prevent them from turning on lower middle class types like myself. More bread and circuses I say.

The pot and the fucking kettle

This fucking annoyed me...

After several decades of tacitly supporting the IRA, by providing funds, weapons and a refuge for murderers America has now decided that actually it’s Europe which is a “Platform for Terrorism”. I could take exception to almost every point made in the speech, however that would just be depressing but a few comments jumped out at me:

“We've put up literally hundreds of miles of fencing and barriers”, presumably on the grounds that terrorist obey “keep out” signs, or perhaps simply just don’t own any ladders

"People travelling from South Asia and the Middle East into Europe and carrying out attacks there". And they are probably taking the opportunity to catch a show on Broadway while they are over there. “By the beard of the prophet, now we have rid the world of more infidels, let us now watch some song and dance numbers”. Well that’s just “terrorism tourism” for you isn’t it? Like everyone else, they are taking advantage of the cheap flights and there’s no reason why they shouldn’t want to see “Cats” if they are in the area.

“I have to say the biggest threat comes from overseas, and one of the places we are increasingly worried about is Europe” I think you’ll find the biggest threat comes from your own blinkered pig fucking ignorance and appalling foreign policy decisions. Attempting to re-enact your Vietnam fiasco in the desert and alienating the entire Muslim world by charging onto the world stage like John Fucking Wayne was not a constructive move.

I was also slightly perturbed by the picture of Michael Chertoff (head of the very sinister “Homeland Security Department”) in which it appears that the security of the United States is in the hands of a paranoid, senile Albert Steptoe.

some tits and a car chase

I’m a simple man with simple, undemanding televisual needs. All I normally require for entertainment is some tits and a car chase. I think “Dog the Bounty Hunter” is a hard hitting political show and that the ITN news is serious journalism. Fortunately, as this is essentially the remit of channel 5, this normally works out very well.

I was however quite pleased with "City of Vice" on channel 4. Basically it was “Sharpe” meets “the Sweeney” but with added wigs and filth. I thoroughly enjoyed it. It stars the Emperor from “Star Wars” as well. He’s aging quite well, but does look a bit like an eagle with AIDS.

I’m planning to make a few changes to the blog in the coming weeks, to make it more like bear grylls's .

Anyway, this morning I was kayaking using a hollowed out log in the local pond, looking for sharks to punch when I caught and ate a parrot. I fucked it first of course.

I am a child of the 1970’s and 80’s

Of late I have found myself pondering the style of parenting those of my generation experienced with what is expected of parents in the early 21^st century (I have specified “early 21^st century” just in case one day in the distant future, many millennia away, due to various unlikely circumstances the only record of current human civilisation left will be Fat Edgar’s blog and this may help dating the archaeological record. What will they make of the world we live in?).

Certain things I remember from being a child, such as being given my first knife when I was 5 years old, would be unheard of now. I also distinctly remember being given a small crossbow (a real one made of wood and metal, not plastic) for Xmas when I was about 7. I used to be able to fire pencils through sheets of plasterboard at about 10 feet with it. Fucking lethal. It was on “Watchdog” a few months afterwards.

It’s not even as if my parents were particularly unusual in this kind of behaviour. On the contrary, they were very good parents. When we went on holiday to places like the Dales we were given our own little tents to sleep in, about 15 feet away form the main one our parents slept in. Can’t remember being abducted by any paedophiles, unless my mind has blocked that one out…

We were also given a rubber dinghy and told to play on our own in the rapids. In fact I remember that my dad was unusually caring and thoughtful for the era and advised us that if we were going to go out with the dinghy, to head upstream for the first half of the day, then we could rely on the current bringing us back in the afternoon.

How many parents would take their kids on holiday today and tell them “Go on, off you go and play “Deliverance” for the afternoon”. You just don’t get the same intensity of experience at a place like “centerparcs”…

Things that people claim are “music” but aren’t really

Things that people claim are “music” but aren’t really

Please note-this list is not exhaustive

• Whale/Dolphin “songs” – Awful, viscous fucking creatures that eat drowning fishermen and “talk” to each other in unpleasant high pitched voices (a bit like my dreams of pirate dwarves). And you always wanted to swim with them? You fucking freak. Is it any wonder that the Japanese try to kill as many as possible? Good luck to them I say-might wipe the smile off their fucking faces.

• World Music-A dreadful cacophony of discordant nonsense. If you wish to listen to “Flight of the Condor” played on bagpipes, or “Danny Boy” played on the fucking pan pipes and sitar can I please suggest that you get voluntarily sectioned? Thank you.

• "Stomp!" – Don’t get me started on those cunts.

• R n’ B – It’s just black people in shiny clothes warbling about gold jewellery and shagging. That’s not a genre, that’s just rubbish.

• Craig Fucking David – As above but even more so. Craig David was initially famous as the man who came second in the international contest for “Least sexually threatening black man on the planet” (Will Smith came first, Lenny Henry a close third). It’s nothing to build a singing career on really.

• Insipid pop music - Almost any current form of modern “pop music” that relies on a combination of insipid sexuality and/or cynical appeals to the burgeoning individuality of pubescent girls is by definition “the Devils work”. By this I mean the type of dreadful “girl band” started by the Spice Girls that has managed to reach it’s zenith with such dreadful groups as “Girl Aloud”. While I’m on the subject Boy Bands are just as bad-generally just four shiny little cunts on stools looking “moody” and “cute”. Faces you could punch all day and not get bored. Fuckers.

Increasingly, the only type of music Fat Edgar finds he can listen to is Motorhead.

Tipton Dave

Tipton Dave is a man I once met in Birmingham. I know he was called Tipton Dave because that was what was tattooed on the side of his head. The other side portrayed what was either a swastika or the SS lighting flashes. I’m not sure which and it seemed rude to stare.

Tipton Dave himself is (or was) an enormous mountain of a man. Aged about 60, he had a shaved head, scarred knuckles and forearms like 2 enormous hams. Curiously, the tattoos on his head were the only ones I could see (he was wearing a vest at the time I met him), as if he had decided that all other forms of tattoos on any other parts of his body were effeminate. Almost as if he was saying “only girls and fucking poofters have “ACAB” tattooed on their fucking knuckles, or bulldogs on their forearms. I’ve just got my fucking name on my fucking head. Beat that you fuckers. You know where to find me if you fucking fancy some. I’M TIPTON FUCKING DAVE YOU CUNTS!”. Or something along those lines anyway.

The reason I bring up Tipton Dave is because I think everyone who despises fools should behave more like Tipton Dave would probably behave, and less like nice well brought up people when faced with the sheer blinkered pig ignorance and idiocy of some of the startlingly fucking shit thick wankers there are out there. I’d like to relate a short conversation I had relatively recently to illustrate my point:

Fat Edgar was reading a book during lunch at his desk. He is interrupted from this small, jealously guarded respite from the stupidity of the world around him by the strident hectoring tone of the racist fish wife:

RFW (proudly): I’m reading a book too.

FE: Hmm? Are you really?

RFW: Oh yes.

FE: Really???

RFW: I borrowed it from my daughter.

FE: Well yes, there’s no reason to have your own books in the house is there? They just take up valuable space that could otherwise be used to display the charming ornamental plates depicting bullfight scenes you routinely bring back from your dreadful package holidays.

RFW: It’s got a blue cover…

FE: They are always the ones that get the best reviews, aren’t they?

RFW: It’s about a dog. I think.

FE: hmmm. Wonderful-it sounds heartwarming. Borrowed blue dog books. Everyday I witness your growth as an individual…

In case you were wondering the book was “The curious incident of the Dog in the night time”. She didn’t like it much in the end. "Full of numbers and stuff" apparently.

All I’m saying here is that rather than sit through this kind of absurd travesty of a conversation, when presented with comments like the above, simply think “What would Tipton Dave do in this situation?” and act accordingly. In this case simply by beating the person’s head against the wall repeatedly and shouting “How dare you interrupt my life, you disgraceful old sow?!” until the police arrive.

You might make some enemies, you might make some friends. You may very probably end up in prison. But, my God, surely that’s better than having to put up with this?

Look at my huge cock! Yeah! I’m a salesman and I am “Mr Fucking Bollocks!”

Don’t you hate salesmen? I fucking do. I work in a biggish office in a biggish company full of busy people. I don’t need some absolute arse to come barging in wearing a shiny suit and shouting. It annoys me. Especially if they are from London, as they almost always are.

What’s with these fuckers? They know nothing, they do virtually nothing and they act like fucking toddlers, barking boorishly into their (company supplied) mobile phones.

Just had one fly through the office with the normal fanfare: “Yep. Yep. Yep, can do, Can do, yep. OK Charles. Yep. EVERYBODY LOOK AT MY SHINY EAR COCK! Yep. Yep. Ciao Charles.”. Fucking twats…

Will you please realise that NO ONE CARES that you think you are Mr Bollocks. You glorified fucking barrow boy, you only got the job because you have no fucking shame and no one else wanted to drive up and down the M1 hawking substandard software to disinterested fuckwits. Can’t you see that? So don’t try and get all fucking alpha male on me sunshine…

I’ve asked the nice lady in reception if he can be allocated the fleet car that smells of stale cigarettes and BO. And he will be.

He won’t learn any lessons from it will he though? Oh well, you can’t have everything.

The absurdity of modern management

Once again FatEdgar has a new manager. To be honest, I don’t normally even bother to learn their names now. They come and go so fast. Generally in floods of tears.

Anyway, this one has come along with all kinds of vigour and unspecified “new ideas”, so we have had the same conversation I always seem have with new managers (in between a series of "meetings" they were attending):

NM: So Fat Edgar, what do you think we can do to improve productivity?

FE: The department is being run on a fucking shoe string-there’s been no real investment for years. Employ some new people. Oh yes, and fire the mongs please.

NM: OK, interesting ideas, but not sure we have the budget space for that.

FE: I had a premonition that I didn’t think you would have.

NM: Any other ideas what we could do?

FE: No, without more people we’re fucked. That’s the bottom line. Please don’t ask me to look at “other ways of working” or any other bullshit, because believe me I’ve got this as streamlined as possible. I’ve had to, you clueless cunt…

NM: Hmmm….Have you looked at other ways of working?

FE: No-I have just sat here like a fucking idiot for the last few years working as inefficiently as possible and improving nothing. I just whip the bastards to make them work harder until they start crying, then I sell their organs and boil their bones up for soup the feed the others.

NM: OK-I have observed the way this department works for approximately 12 and one half seconds and have decided that I now know it in its entirety and have formulated a better way to make it work. Please implement this immensely unwieldy and ultimately pointless plethora of procedures with great big glaring fucking holes in them immediately.

It’s no wonder we steal is it? Anyone who works in an office and who buys their own tea bags and stationary is a fool….

A lovely dream...

There’s normally nothing more fucking tedious than having to listen to someone else dreams, however I have decided to share one of last nights with you as it still leaves me with a warm fuzzy feeling and a huge throbbing erection.

Imagine, if you will, a dark dirty workshop lit by the dull red glow of forges. The workshop is full of twisted, evil dwarves fashioning the word “CUNT” out of sharp shards of glass, discarded cow bones and rusty, jagged fragments of metal.

They have been working on them for some time (possibly many months) and have a large pile of them now.

Now imagine Robbie fucking Williams tied to a chair in the freezing well of a cooling tower-he looks like a bit bruised and bloody as if he has been quite badly beaten. His eyes are bulging with fear and the bonds are quite tight, so he is struggling to escape.

Slowly we see the evil dwarves peering over the rim of the cooling tower, cackling and muttering in low voices whilst holding huge black iron cauldrons full of their work. There is a sense of menace, a sense of an as yet unknown purpose about their manner.

As if in slow motion the contents of the cauldron are then tumbling down the atrium of the tower, their sharp edges glittering and spinning in the air as they fall, gradually gaining speed.

As Williams looks up he realises each piece represents the same word and that word is now easy for him to read, and he knows its significance.

He knows that each word is a condemnation of his very presence in the world-he knows now why someone has chosen to do this to him.

Robbie’s mouth is now a desperate mask of despair, abject fear and terrible realisation. He hopes, in vain, that someone will care enough to rescue him.

No one comes.

Another year over, a new one begun…

And a happy new year to you all…

This year’s new years resolutions (so far) are as follows:

1. Do something about my apathy-This was thrown into stark relief for me last year when I was at the Great Yorkshire Show, and due to a series of coincidences I found myself a) having bought a machete and also b) finding myself within stabbing distance of HRH Prince Charles. Any man worthy of his salt from a previous generation would have used the opportunity to rid the world of a dandified, parasitic Crown Prince (and subsequently plunge Europe into the carnage of Total War) and yet I did NOTHING. My communist grandfather would be turning in his grave if he knew know I missed such an opportunity. I admit I thought about a spot of regicide, but then thought “Why bother? Why fucking bother?” Absurd isn’t it? Won’t let it happen again.

2. Learn to have less patience with fools. I still find I suffer fools, despite the fact that they are clearly a waste of genetic material and should be disposed of as such. I think our company’s yearly party (held later this month, rather than in the run up to xmas, in order to cut costs) will be an ideal opportunity to explore this. Although I find it increasingly difficult, I do manage to hold my tongue between the hours of nine till five and refuse to give in to the temptation to refer to people as cunts, however I suspect that outside these hours, and with the addition of copious amounts of alcohol this will become a moot point.

3. Robbie Fucking Williams. I can’t even watch him on TV without wanting to gut him like a fucking fish, so why not? Who would ever grieve for him?

4. Bomb Making. An increasingly valuable and desirable skill set. Must swot up on this as it seems that in our brave new world anyone who can create an exploding rucksack will never be short of gainful employment.

Here’s to a happy and prosperous New Year!!

If I saw this in my fucking kitchen, I’d take a hammer to the fucker

Various conservationists, scientists and other men with beards and glasses are over the moon to have discovered this new species of Giant Fucking Rat

Why is this something to be celebrated I have no idea. The idea of enormous rodent vermin taking over the earth is one that has plagued my nightmares since childhood - given the propensity of rats to breed and spread by next Christmas it will no doubt be a reality

I would suggest you all invest in one of these quite fucking sharpish…

Fucking Christmas...

Predictably, I fucking hate Christmas. If I wanted to sit on my arse all day eating rich food, drinking until I have gout and trying desperately to amuse myself with pointless diversions I would have been an aristocrat in 18^th century France.

Have you had your works “do” yet? I bet it was great wasn’t it? Loads of people you already have to put up with all day, every day (except now it’s on your own time and you are expected to buy a drink for that fat cunt from accounts as well) crammed into an over-loud bar and all sweating onto each other, talking about work and having a jolly old fucking time indeed. Hateful, hateful extravaganzas… I’m not going to ours this year, as I think I’d rather die of rectal haemorrhaging in prison than attend another.

At least we aren’t expected to send xmas cards around the office this year (which lets me off the hook as I never send the fuckers anyway), as instead we have decided to take the money we would normally have spent on cards and give it to a “worthwhile charity”.

This suits me as I spend fuck all a year on cards, so I’m just going to send the charity a note saying “pull yourself up by your damn bootstraps man!” instead.

YO HO FUCKING HO….

A Christmas Letter to Mr Bob Geldof

Dear Mr Geldof

A merry yuletide season to you!!

I am sure you share my continuing surprise regarding the fortunes of much of the African Continent. It would seem that despite your best efforts over the past 20 odd years the fortunes of this blighted continent have not appeared to rise in parallel to your own. I am sure that your consternation matches mine in this matter.

Ever since you were catapulted into obscurity following your all too short period of fame with the popular beat-combo “the Boom Town Rats” (and who can ever forget that one famous song you did?) you have worked tirelessly to publicise the cause of the continent and it’s people, no doubt to the detriment of your career. Who knows how big “the Rats” could have one day become had you not chosen your selfless path? You may even perhaps one day have played to “sold out” audiences in medium sized industrial towns and other dizzying heights of rock and roll fame.

Instead of this you selflessly turned your back on all this glory just to help other people. I admire you Mr Geldof, I really do. Yet, at the same time I worry so much about you too. I still see you on TV, with your wild ragged hair and crumpled linen suits, shouting incoherently at the camera like some kind of filthy Eurotrash tramp. Are you taking on too much work? Perhaps next year you could let someone else arrange any concerts you are planning to “raise awareness” of any one of the seemingly endless good causes you have attached yourself to. My only regret is that you might not continue to be the familiar happy, charming face that I so readily identify with “Celebrity Charity Events” and other such fine works.

Your philanthropy and sacrifice takes my breath away. How much must you despise the trappings that your estimated £30 million wealth could purchase for you? I imagine your every waking moment is consumed with grief and regret that those poor, poor people in Africa are not themselves living quite comfortably in a big fucking house in Davington like yourself.

I must be awful for someone like you, someone who, by a cursory appraisal of their public image at least, is so clearly just some kind hippy at heart and obviously not some kind of capitalist, opportunistic, swindling scoundrel who has quite clearly realised he has got himself onto a good thing and just can’t help himself from feeding on it like a pig at a fucking trough.

Also, on an unrelated but niggling note, could I point out an inconsistency with your famous “Band Aid” song, specifically the lyrics “There won’t be snow in Africa this Christmastime”. Might In point you towards a novella written by the celebrated author Mr Ernest Hemingway called “The Snows of Kilimanjaro”. I think you may find many parts of Africa are shrouded in snow almost constantly…

But that doesn’t fucking rhyme very well does it?

Yours sincerely (and a merry Christmas!)

Fat Edgar

P.S. Yes, I do think you are a cunt.

I’ll tell you what I want (I really, really want)

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/cavorting slappers

What I really, really want is for you to just die quietly you awful bunch of shrieking hags.

Actually I don’t want you to die, I just want you to plunge into obscurity, despite the best efforts of publicists and your tireless self promotion. I want you to be recognised for the sheer scale of your mediocrity. I want you to be a laughing stock. I want you to be the raddled old has-beens they have to shoe horn into “Celebrity” reality shows. I want you to be at the bottom of the bill forever, below the fucking Krankies. I want you to be the new “Roly Polys”. In ten years time I want to see a TV special about you in which one of you died of a drug overdose and the other was strangled to death by a “client”. I want the world to laugh in your fucking faces, just for being what you are.

Word cannot express the loathing and contempt I feel for these particular women.

It’s so extreme that some years go when Omar Bakri Mohammed said that one of his first acts when he got into power would be to behead them, I actually warmed to him quite a lot…

I particularly hate the continued use of their ridiculous twee nicknames- in fact, might I suggest more appropriate alternatives that match my rather cursory examination of their current physical state?

“Planet of the Apes Spice” (Victoria Beckham)

“Rustie Lee Spice” (Mel B)

“Council House Self Harming Mother of Seven Spice” (Mel C)

“Pub Landlady Spice” (Emma Bunton)

“Rod Hull Spice” (the other one)

Granted, they are a bit unwieldy, but so much more appropriate