If Pigs could fly.

Well, you may be wondering where I've been in the last few months. Has he been stuck in a British airport because airlines around the world are collapsing like a smoker's lung after 35000 cigarettes and an acute bout of bovine flu? Maybe he has been bankrupted and forced to sell sexual favours to rebellious nuns? Has he been stuck in a tunnel under a sea for several months because the trains got scared of the cold? Should I give a shit that he hasn't blogged in a while?

These are all questions that may have been circling through your mind and no doubt your answer to the latter would've been a resounding no.

Truth is, after my last blog my doctor decided that I had finally lost it and I have spent the last few months in the fantasia world that is otherwise known as Psychiatry Outpatients. Psychiatrists may seem rather smart but having been given every single tablet ever produced by glaxosmithkline my "world leading psychiatrist in the field of 'madism'" has decided he is not sure they are working. That isn't very smart. I may have been diagnosed with this 'madism' disease but I am certain I am less mad than the psychiatrist supposedly treating me.

Mind you, if it was up to me, I would diagnose the whole world with 'madism'. It really has gone mad.

I mean, the recent wintery weather has triggered the usual excuse from every transport companies' executive saying: 'oh we weren't ready for it' or 'it was too much for our system to handle'. When will we learn?

As for the politicians, well, Berlusconi got a pummelling in the news didn't he? Then he literally got pummelled by some random in Milan by a statue. I was waiting to see how long it would take. The Italians were clearly mad enough to let this joke of a man continue for so long without retribution!

And, on another point, what is up with men and sex these days? Tiger Woods caught short at what must've been his 30th hole? Berlusconi going with women, who are so young, they may as well call him Uncle Fritzl? It is another fine example of man becoming mad.

What about that politician who claimed £20000 for his bell tower and then turns round and says: 'you are jealous and I did nothing wrong'? Call me old fashioned but that is 'Poppycock'. I'll be honest here, when I first heard of this scandal I was a bit naïve and thought a bell tower was some sort of elaborate sex toy for the male genitalia. I was clearly wrong but this man is the most naive simply because he can't see, on moral grounds, how that was so wrong?!

Where will this end? The polar caps are melting and some economist decides to ruin a man who has spent his life working climate change by going through his personal emails, find out ONE of his graph's in 1999 was a bit wonky and therefore coming to the conclusion that climate change is wrong and we should stop the Copenhagen climate summit?! All this from an economist! Idiots didn't even see the recession coming yet they can tell that climate change is non-existent!

What about that catastrophic earthquake in Indonesia a few months back?! I'm a novice with this geophysics stuff, but as far as I could tell it was all caused by some man moving another man's tectonic plate?! I mean if I was jealous of someone's posh plates I won't MOVE it or push it under another plate! That's just plain jealousy!

Problem here is greed. Every human being is consumed with greed at some point. Why is greediness such a problem? For one, it really is a problem governments are not tackling because obesity, alcoholism and teenage pregnancies are somehow a bigger problem. Can't they see? The underlying cause of all these problems is GREED. Obesity is because everyone who can afford it is eating all the food and being greedy about it. Why not give the leftovers of Christmas dinner to the poor man on the street rather than stuff it down ourselves? Alcohol makes us feel good and alcoholism creeps in when you are greedy to feel that good all the time.

So what we must do here is combat greed.

My solution? Simple. My theory is that as human's we are naturally competitive race and we don't like getting beaten. Now, pigs have been much slated recently with the massive swine flu debacle and over time have been hated by Muslims and Jews all over the world. They are also part of many derogatory comments made to fat children by their peers in the school playground. But, most importantly, they have also been known as greedy.

The way I see it, the human race has seen the pig and decided to outdo the malodorous runts. This is why we are all so greedy because we want to be greedier than the pigs. So, put simply, the way to combat greed, alcoholism, obesity, cheating partners, bankers making remarkably risky decisions, madism and climate change remaining a reality we should simply get rid of the pigs.

(Sighs) If only pigs could fly.

 

(Dedicated, to many lovely people:

1. My awesome psychiatrist, therapist and general ketchup in my life, Piri Piri. (I owe u 1 [nothing too expensive though!])
   
2. Mr. Alan 'Questionable Man' Bouquet, who once emailed his chief climatology lecturer in the University of East Anglia a slightly drunken and wonky attempt at drawing a regression curve. His lecturer later had his email raided by some economist and lost his job as the drunken wonky graph seemed to prove the non existence of climate change. (Beers all round mate...your buying)
   
3. And Janu Seev, who loves pigs and is mad because I have never seen her not smiling, ever. [You owe ME for all those shopping trips J])

If I was Prime Minister I would...Swine Flu, the Tube and the NHS.

Well, Swine flu seems to be all the rage these days isn’t it? School children are passing the infection round like trading cards and well, who would bet against some Japanese cartoonist making it into an actual trading card game / multi million pound game franchise?

Anyway, what really worries me about swine flu is that pigs don’t seem to be suffering from this at all. It isn’t the best situation to be in really, if you were a pig. You have a pandemic flu named after you, Muslims and Jewish people HATE you and you are the subject of many scathing and discriminatory comments to fat or greedy children. I wouldn’t be surprised if pigs eventually leave this planet.

Cows should disappear too, I mean, yes, they provide great and tasty meat and sometimes are called Angus but seriously, mad cow disease is just not good. The NHS cannot afford to provide psychiatric treatment to mad cows let alone mad humans. In Hinduism, cows are holy animals and I do not see god on this planet. He is somewhere else we can’t see and therefore we shouldn’t be able to see living cows we should only pray or worship their pictures.

The NHS, in its current state can’t afford anything and is far from god. It really is quickly becoming an absolute farce especially when their main source of income is now from their expensive car parks as the government cannot afford to fund our banks let alone the NHS. Quite frankly, the banks should be merged with our hospitals. Because the way these banks are going the only people needing treatment in hospital are going to be our politicians and the bankers, who have been hurt by several million angry poor people.

And, what about the tube? It is now looking like one of the most fantastically big breeding ground for the swine flu virus and terrorism. What’s worse is that modernising the damn thing has caused one company to go bust, the other to have severe delays and Wanstead station to close. So what is the solution to the faltering underground? Well many will automatically suggest that the underground should be shutdown. I believe that we could shut it down to trains and use the tunnels as a high speed car transit. Using the tunnels and stations as underground motorway systems where by cars get on and get off at their desired stop. Then again, that is a stupid idea.

The underground is a symbol of this great old city and I believe, like the NHS, we should do everything possible to maintain it. Swine flu may make the London Underground public enemy number one but it will be a much loved enemy. Bring in trains with air-conditioning, tube services twenty four hours a day and night tube services that have a fully stocked bar serving exotic drinks! Yes, you’ve got it. Under my government, the tube will run special alcohol trains every 15 minutes after 8pm. These trains will serve alcohol and cheap prices and therefore bring in another revenue stream for which we can use to maintain our fine train system. As they say; “you will always find the answer in alcohol”.

So, in conclusion, what are my main points?
Build pubs in hospitals and get alcohol back on the London Underground. Beer will save our country’s liver disease issues, mass transport system and nurses’ jobs.
(We, as a nation, should look to the Belarus International Cricket team for inspiration...beer really can change our fortunes - Image courtesy of Mr. R. Pimp)

Oh Bugger

Well, what a few weeks it has been for politician eh? This extraordinary story has caused me to delay publication of my next instalment of "If I was Prime Minister" in order for me to give my views in the latest political scandal and how I would solve it.

Now, obviously, the situation is dire. Ninety eight million pounds of the money we have earned and paid to the government to get something back from them has been flashed about by MP's watching pornography, filming it and buying other houses to watch it. As far as I understand it, one politician spent one thousand six hundred and forty five pounds on a floating duck island? That is a real niche for porn isn't it really? I mean, credit where it's due, this man is clearly cash strapped in the recession and is trying to carve out a profitable business by monopolising the nonexistent duck porn market. Yes, you may be slightly bamboozled and disturbed at the thought of Duck related pornography but believe me, it's just a phase. I will certainly work to ensure that the exploitation of ducks in pornography is outlawed.

Anyway, so what really disgusts me here is that our politicians are disgustingly stupid to not realise that what they were doing was morally wrong. One politician was quoted as saying: "People are just jealous." I mean yes, politicians are universally renowned as being the greatest planks outside the Amazonian rainforests but I'm pretty sure an Amazonian Oak tree, Glaswegian Palm tree or even an English Willow will be able to realise that taking money from the public and using it for their personal gain is wrong. Off course, it's not just the current crop of politicians that are complete idiots; history has been littered with politicians with half a brain cell. I mean remember the famous Paxman Vs. Howard bust up? Seriously, WHY can't politicians be straight up, honest and answer the damn questions we have of them? It's just disgusting really, but we must wonder why, as a nation, we continue to vote for people with combined IQ of 0.5?

It is a mystery to me and certainly it was a mystery to Charles Kennedy who tried to find the solution to "why am I not prime minister?" in alcohol. The way I see it, we aren't, as a nation, represented fairly by our politicians, national anthem or even our sports teams. Yes, it is sad but true. "God save the King / Queen" was written by an Austrian (Joseph Haydn) and England's major sports team are managed by an Italian (Fabio Capello) and a Zimbabwean (flower).

I mean, to the outside world we are just a band of people who crave disappointment and have had predominantly overcast weather since we invented cricket. It wouldn't surprise me if we were the ones to invent that cock of a professional, the statistician. I think it is good to see the one eyed Scotsman battle his way through the riff and the raff of our current situation. He will succeed because, naturally, we just expect something a little bit better than now because we are used to failing miserably and a bit of stiff upper lip and gritty resistance is better than him giving up. So what to do?

Well I think the solution lies in the counter argument to this all. I mean instead of damning the public and our general resignation conservative approach to everything we could argue that British politics is just the pinnacle of our fine British humour right? No, unless you class Big Brother and Waterloo Road as fine british humour. I think we need to make British politics funnier and make it work just like Blackadder, Monty python, Fawlty towers or Only Fools and Horses! I mean yes, we already have Paxman and the papers practically calling the politicians a plonker but, like Baldrick or Manuel, I think the British need a bit more slapstick behaviour to cause strife in our politics. Humiliating our politicians will certainly make them think twice before they try to earn some money on the side by filming "Jordon rests in Yorkshire".

What I think we should do is invite members of public to Wembley stadium (we paid for it!) and let them take their anger out on shamed politicians. Quite simple really, pay a fiver to enter and then pelt the shamed politicians with as much crap as possible. That'll sort them out good. They, obviously, won't be entitled to NHS treatment for their injuries. That will be their punishment; they have to pay their own way to be able to walk home. Yes it is brutal and yes it doesn't sound very productive but I think the politicians just do not fear the wrath of the public. They are too comfortable in their jobs and this added humiliation will sort them out.

So really, in conclusion, all we can say is this. Statisticians are still cocks but politicians run very close to them. As a result of this dramatic conclusion we must act by getting ninety thousand people to smash the crap out of these politicians. Corporal punishment should be legalised ONLY for politicians and what Britain needs is straight talking individuals to lead this country.

The Raven.

(Dedicated to a Brilliant and remarkably straight talking individual who believes in killing criminals and was very much the inspirer of my latest idea of legalizing corporal punishment to politicians. Yes, I would like to thank, my future lord Chancellor and Secretary of State Justice, Piri Piri spices from Nandos.)

“If I was prime minister I would…” - The Economy

Now, you're probably wondering WHY I've entitled this so or maybe even WHERE I live so that you can hunt me down and kill me for writing yet another load of crap. Naturally, this means I won't answer your questions and I will continue to keep on writing on about this rather intriguing title.

Yes, this article is the start of a series of articles entitled: "If I was prime minister I would…"

It's primarily designed to give you all a sneak preview of the ways I intend to win over the hearts of a nation, become prime minister and save the planet from destroying itself. I intend to start my own political party (please make your suggestions for a party name in the comments section of this blog) and the policies outlined in these articles will be carefully recorded and refined in my manifesto. The first article in the series is entitled:

The Economy

Now, I'm sure you are all rather angry at the news that the governments of the world intend to spend around one trillion U.S. dollars to give the flagging global economy a boost. I, however, was quite happy about this because I thought that it was one trillion US dollars which means we don't spend any of our British pounds but as I have since learned, dollars is just a nice way of saying it and that we are actually giving out part of those trillion dollars. This bought a sense of rage but instead of launching Afghans into Royal Bank of Scotland windows or cursing Travelex for their ability to convert pounds into dollar, I decided to use a terribly British show of rage and set about writing a strongly worded letter to the right honourable gentleman, Mr. Gordon Brown.

This letter writing business lasted for all of two minutes when I realized that I have a solution to the problem in our economy! The key is to arrest control of the economy from the bankers who seem to have made their own oligarchy over the world's economy. You could say that I am starting the "War on Bankers".

No, that doesn't mean I will be bombing Canary Wharf or killing Sir Fred Goodwin, although the latter seems like a great way of getting a landslide victory in the next general election…
Anyway, cast your minds back to the beginning of February 2009. Remember anything special? Yes, you guessed it! It snowed! The doom and gloom of a recession hit January was immediately lifted by a bit of snow. Over the years, while secretly missing the beautiful snow showers of winter, I have taken great pride in correcting visiting tourists and their underestimation of British weather but the sudden reappearance of the polar conditions allowed me to conduct a new experiment. I'm not going to bore you with the technicalities of this experiment but I can conclude that snowmen are the answer to this great recession and the way we can win the war on bankers! It isn't a coincidence that the doom and gloom was lifted at the same time snow came to our land. I base this on entirely false fact (What politician doesn't?) but scientists believe that snowmen have large "bottoms" because they are stores of large amounts of cash. Have faith in me people.

 

So how do I propose to harness the power of these winter only creatures?

Simple, make artificial ones. Vast sums of money will be invested in rebuilding the massive factories that once stood in Longbridge. Instead of building cars, these factories will produce vast amounts of artificial snow. The snow will then be transferred to manufacturing plants which will produce these snowmen. The snowmen will then be taken to "money extraction plants" in, what is now, Canary Wharf. Here, the money will be extracted from the snowmen and they will be recycled at recycling plants.

This ladies and gentlemen will give the government more cash to allow us to buy our way out of recession. The estimated employment for this process will be approximately two million at the initial stage. We can afford to go into more debt and invest in building the infrastructure for this process because I believe we can get a quick and profitable return. In the long run, our welfare, happiness and security will increase! In the long run, I hope to be able to pay you all back for your support for me! In the long run, I hope that the British will be in terrific surplus and that we WILL become an economic super power in our world! Vote for HAPPINESS! Vote for success! Vote for ME!

Ladies and Gentlemen, for too long we have had our eyes covered by the Labour government. Gordon Brown has used his rugby player exterior to bully us into supporting him in these glum times! He has lead our country by constantly reminding us all of the previous conservative governments failings and that he is better. Truth is, he is just as bad. He has slipped extra help to our greedy, fat-cat bankers by garnishing it with "government targets", "increases in house prices" and "fancy buildings in Canary Wharf". He's stupid to have believed our bankers and we must make him pay! The current government has got us into this catastrophic mess but I believe in change. I believe we can fight back! I believe snowmen (and me) are the answer to all our economic shortfalls! We will become the great nation we once were. For too long we have been happy to underachieve and settle for second best. But I promise you, that in five years time, we will be on the brink of global domination once again!

So there you have it. I will bring a clear thinking, no nonsense approach to British politics. Something we have been missing for some time and something I believe will be the saviour of our great nation!

Next Week's issue? - Transport.

[Inspired by and written for a comical, all – round naturist (he LIKES nature…he is an ornithologist...wait naturist isn't the correct word is it then?), cricketing God whose tough talking, "hard-nosed", Hornchurch hating approach has seen him elevated to the status of Legend by many. This legend I talk of is none other than Sir "SPIM" a lot! (Cheers Jim ). ]

Wales - Can it ever be a World beating super power?

Before I start my rant I must warn you that when I say this article is dedicated to M.S. I DO NOT mean Multiple sclerosis as I’d rather dedicated my leg to a chainsaw. M.S. is the initials of a lovely person in my life.

Now Wales is an intriguing country, I say intriguing because I don’t want to offend the Welsh by saying its rubbish and I don’t want to get people’s hopes up by saying it’s awesome. The irony is that I’ve most probably offended many Welsh people by saying the latter...

What strikes me about this nostalgic country, whose ethnic minority largely consists of sheep, is not the phenomenal scenery, its history of being the world’s biggest coal port, the Millennium Stadium, Ryan Giggs or Tom Jones but the mere fact that the Heir apparent to the Throne is actually the Prince of Wales! Why?

It’s a sad truth but the poor old Welsh do get a beating in the media don’t they? After all it was the great Historian from Cambridge, Ali G, who famously claimed; “When you think of Wales, you tend to think of the fish with the biggest penis”. The irony is that Ali G’s father was Welsh. Infact, it’s the media’s portrayal of Wales that lead me to think that the only place on this planet that people won’t oppose being bombed is Wales! The only vertebrate that will object to the Americans’ bombing of Wales will be the sheep population.

I say this with great caution for fear I may upset the sheep. I have a track record of being hated by sheep. Five years have passed since my epic bike ride through the black mountains which, incidentally, aren’t black; they’re green or brown at best and were quite a magnificent backdrop to this most epic yet death-defying journey.
It was while riding through, what appeared to be, the land of the teletubbies that this incident occurred. Up and down mound after mound till suddenly, on the horizon, I could see some rather peculiar looking mole hills. These mole hills were moving and they were white. This didn’t strike me as unusual as I had realised that I was in Wales and well absurdity can, potentially, be normal. A friend of mine the other day proved this Welsh trait by shamelessly admitting that, despite having lived over eighty percent of her life in the United Arab Emirates with her Pakistani parents and having an American accent, she was born in Wales.

Quite hilarious,you may agree, but these mole hills look set to compete in terms of hilarity. As I rode towards these mole hills I noticed that they were becoming more and more fluffy. Now fluffy, white molehills are something of a rarity. So rare that they don’t exist. It turned out that these mole hills were sheep. These sheep were fearless of our bikes and set about chasing us. One sheep head butted my bike and I fell to the ground surrounded by a few hundred sheep. I feared for my testicles, brain, face and I feared what my mother would say when I got home. Strangely, I did not fear for my life partly because death will mean I won’t have to face my mother and partly because I was being attacked by sheep, the fluffiest animals since three toddlers genetically modified their kindergarten’s toy plank to form the world’s first teddy bear! Quite frankly, I’ve met scarier trousers!

Thankfully, I managed to get up and pull my bike out of the rugby scrum the sheep had formed desperately trying to decapitate my bike. I then got away as fast as possible, often reaching speeds of sixty mile per hour.

This, quite frankly, exhibited many new facts. It explained that the teletubbies are from Wales, sheep are fierce animals, the Welsh rugby team’s scrum practice is, most probably, conducted in the Black mountains and I’d rather die than explain to my mother how I ended up on the brink of death in Hospital. Dying before mother sees me is, quite frankly, the safer and relatively painless option. The most worrying fact however is that moles live in sheep and that trousers can be quite scary.

What about the Welsh in general? And the Prince of Wales?! Well, quite frankly, the Welsh are a wonderful bunch of people (albeit colour blind - the Black mountains aren't black!) and the country is one of the most beautiful in the world. The Prince of Wales is aptly named just refer to the previous sentence for further details. It will however always take a hammering in the press and it is probably because, as a nation, it has less power than a triple A battery. Sheep can't destroy a mountain bike let alone a mountain in Wonga Wongistan and so all we can say is that Wales and its army of sheep don't stand a chance in becoming a super power. Barack Obama, Osama Bin Laden and Duracell Bunny, your jobs are safe, for now (Only because I want to look like I believe sheep will eventually rise above all of us and therefore not end up in hospital with several sheep related injuries and then suffer the wrath of my mother).

specialK
(Thanks M.S :)- You're the best)

The True Intelligence of Animals

A few days ago, while sitting by the tranquil part of the Thames near Hampton court, I thought about how depressing life can be. I particularly felt for tube drivers on the Victoria line. Let me explain. The Victoria line is an underground mass transit system which is almost entirely underground this compared to the rest of the London Underground (which is only 40% underground) is quite a significant amount. Drivers who are on 12 hour shifts in the winter don't get to see the light of day at times because they start their shift when it is dark (early in the morning) and finish early afternoon (when it is also dark) this can be very depressing and it got me thinking about other species.

Not a day goes past where we don't see some naturist, peace loving, hippy protestor on television telling us how some bird is at risk from extinction or that the bonga walla walla animal is going to die out because its habitat is ruined. To be honest, a lot of the time I take no notice and flick over to the worst program in the world, Deal or no Deal. This, I tell you with the utmost profanity, is the cheaper, stupider and boring version of Who Wants to be a Millionaire. I mean, bank robbers and footballers deserve more credit for the way they earn their money compared to those who win on Deal or no Deal.

But, back to the point, the question really must be asked: "do animals really feel emotion? Will they go on the news and embarrass themselves by wearing silly clothes just to tell other animals that humans are dying out and they should all save them?" I for one don't believe they would, considering the way we've treated them over the years. It's like watching a Jew with dead family pleading to the people of the world, on television, that we should spare Hitler and perhaps consider giving him a knighthood. Absurd, but I do wonder if they are capable of emotion. I mean just the other day a wonderful friend of mine told me how her best friend's boyfriend's dog was jealous of his owner's new love and caused havoc by getting in between the couple every time they sat next each other.

We as a species have rather cockily assumed that we are the dominant species on the planet just like we assume science, mathematics or statistics is correct but are they? How do we know for sure? Is there really an atom? And therefore we must ask how much do we really know about animals?

I'm not a strict catholic, in fact, I'm not a catholic at all because my dad isn't a priest but I have yet to see or hear of a duck walking into confession. I'm sure I won't be able land an aero plane in the pacific ocean and ask a dolphin for directions to wonga wonga land and therefore we have no definite way of confirming the information scientists have learnt about animals from just watching them because we can't just ask them, but the evidence seems to suggest they may have emotion and might be smart. This is understandable because while I was sitting by the Thames, I noticed this rather tall looking duck, walking up and down the embankment. It really did look like the duck form of the "pool attendant" or the "coastguard". Probably protecting ducks from straying away from the water onto the road nearby. To the naked eye it seemed pretty smart but ten minutes later I saw a dead duck floating by the side of the water. Now, either the coastguard Duck, who I had, by now, aptly named "Ducky Hasselhoff", didn't do his job right or simply wasn't a coastguard at all and that he was just waltzing about like a gormless idiot.

Being a scientist however, I did not let this phase me and on the basis of my best friend's best friend's boyfriend's dog I decided to experiment. I sat around chewing my pen, hypothesized my experiment and even came up with probable statistical tests that my statistics colleagues would be impressed with. Yes, statisticians are cocks but the statistics made my experiment look more credible. Inspired by the "non marital bliss" dog, I first of all set out to tell some animals a joke. The duck, cow and cat I told the joke to failed to laugh and the hilarity of the joke was clearly summed up by the cow with a resounding and quite bassy "moo". So now that Simon COWell had given its verdict on my joke I felt rather dejected by the whole experiment and decided to ask some bird out on a date. This didn't work out either because birds aren't familiar with the human dating system (...must've been a blonde bird...jokes like this is probably why the cow moo-ed at me). Anyway, joking aside, it was a truly sad finding. The animals had rejected me and I wasn't able to make new friends but surely, these animals must be smarter than us because they get to reproduction age quicker than us, they grow faster, they can walk earlier, they can even die faster (they don't have to face dying old and frail at the tender age of 110). If u ask me they're cleverer than a species who wears its trousers below their arse and confuses it with sports equipment and a blind animal (low BATS) or a species that wears its caps back to front, walks all wonky and makes funny hand signs while wearing jewellery and talking gibberish. Yes, I'm saying that animals are cleverer than humans and quite frankly, our scientists prove it because they look into space for aliens and other species with our intelligence or more when all we have to do is go to London zoo. The only reason we chose to believe that animals aren't smarter than us is because they can't speak to us and prove us wrong. Truth is, Animals are so smart that somewhere along the line they realized this fact and thought that they won't waste their lives talking to such low lives that are so cocky.

As a human, I have one thing to say:

"Men, women and children. Let's face it, life on mars (US) invaded earth ages ago. We must stop acting like invaders and accept we were the only other form of intelligence in space and that the animals on earth are far superior to us. The only reason they act dumb is because they want our money..."

I say this, but we must be getting smarter though. We seem to "grow" quicker with the children now with mobile phones at ten and we seem to reproduce earlier with our thirteen year old parents. Maybe we are learning that if we can't beat them, we can only join them, smart. Hardly. The last two paragraphs, admittedly, are utterly preposterous.

We are humans and thus we aren't very bright. The animals are forced to not to talk to us as part of a labour government conspiracy theory to make Britain's schools, universities and scientists look smarter and the smart ones, who know about this conspiracy, are forced to drive Victoria line trains to remind them of their scary punishment if they reveal the government secret.

 

specialK

(Dedicated to Mani.The Pisshead. Malhi. - thank you for everything)

Why statisticians are cocks...

Now many people have been asking me why statisticians are cocks and I thought I would explain why this rebel sector of Mathematics is deftly ridiculed by me.

Every day we hear in the news that forty percent of Londoners enjoy being crammed into an aluminium can or that northerners are statistically more likely to have a West Country accent compared to their human counterparts in Devon.

So, we must wonder where we get these barmy figures from. The simple fact is that these statistics are generated from answers people give in surveys. Now, in my experience, surveys are voluntary but they are almost always shoved in your face in some street corner by some awfully nice, poor university student who you can’t turn down because whatever you say seems to be so rude.

It’s just like Euthanasia; the people that want to die are so nice and unavoidable. You want to help them by protesting, sending letters to Gordon Brown and having vociferous discussions about the subject at the pub but, unlike poor university students on a street corner, these people almost always do not get what they want. I believe that “psychos”, who are great practitioners of the illegal practise of involuntary euthanasia (Murder), jamming up the British prisons and those that wish to have Euthanasia can, together, solve both issues on euthanasia and involuntary euthanasia by building massive “Death Clubs”. These clubs will be social areas where those who want euthanasia can meet those who want to commit involuntary euthanasia. This will get murderers off the street and into the clubs and will stop pro-euthanasia protests. (VOTE the RAVEN for London Mayor 2016!)

I’m not entirely certain how this relates to poor university students but I am not for one minute suggesting that university students are murderers, although, I am sitting in a mathematics lecture on differential equations at the moment and secretly wishing that Euthanasia is legalised and university counsellors become trained “mercy killers” (Euthanasia practitioners) within the next ten to fifteen minutes.

Thing is, surveys are completely random and not always representative of the entire population just like how some people are pro-euthanasia and others are pro-murder. What makes it worse is that we are forced to do these things by poor university students and we end up just answering questions in a hurry rather than honestly therefore the only fact we get from these surveys is that most of the answers are utter bullshit. Quite convenient that Britain, in a recent survey, has been rated as the most dishonest nation in Europe (Never has there been so much irony in two sentences). The fact that statisticians haven’t realised these two rather major findings simply confirms they are cocks.

My conclusions?

Differential equations can be quite entertaining, learning how to write left handed is far more entertaining, sheep have become strangely attractive during this lesson and death is a viable and humorous alternative to these forms of entertainment.

Oh and one other thing...Maths joke: “What is the biggest rope in the world? EuROPE”.

Never bet against my Mother.

It's not often you get asked to go to a protest involving fellow members of your ethnic minority and it's not often you get to go to 10 Downing Street. So naturally, I turned down the opportunity in favour of organising the music on my computer in alphabetical order (manually) when my mother asked me to join her at this protest. My mother who is nicknamed 'mum' by her work colleagues, isn't one to give up easily and is a master of the "guilt trip". I am certain she can guilt trip Osama into handing himself over to the American's. (Secretly I'm hoping the CIA and FBI are reading this blog. If they are please write to me at: Yes, you may take my mother to America to work undercover for 2 years, 75, Higneath Gardens, Sallford, Essex. Ig54jy) (That's 2 years without a nagging, hormonal mother...believe me that is better than winning the lottery...apart from when I need money. In which case having both my mother and a handsome lottery jackpot is quite useful.)

She started her whining and whingeing about how I'm a useless son who won't do anything for her but my computer's music files needed me more! I mean, why stand out in the cold for hours to raise our fuehrer's awareness of a desolate, 'no hope till evry1 dies' political / humanitarian situation in a country he isn't even leader of? It is like giving a new born baby to a foster father and then asking him to breast feed it!

I still felt my organised windows media player will have a more profound effect on the planet than standing outside with people around you just shouting, as if G. Brown was going to hear their chants! He probably still got the 35 inch thick bullet-proof windows installed during the time Tony was in-charge to prevent weapons of mass destruction being thrown through his windows by protestors. I must digress here, as I have a major issue with Tony Blair and the British population that voted for the bloke in the many general elections he won. It still bamboozling how a man called Tony, which sounds like the name of a plumber, was voted by the British public to run one of the most powerful nations in the World? I highly doubt a plumber was going to do any good for our nation let alone the world. "Cash for honours scandal" is an anagram for "ridiculous call out charge just because your granny is stuck in the boiler". Ok, it isn't but still you get my drift...

Anyway back to my mother, she wasn't finished and changed her tactics by aiming at my softer, 'mummy's boy' brother who faltered in his rejection to her advances by using far too many "erms" and "aahs". I, not ready to let my bro crumble to this household menace (my mum that is, not his incoherence or the kitchen rat that keeps on nicking my chocolate...or is that my mum?), decided to give into my mum and take my brother. After-all it was going to involve a tube journey. Yes, I admit it, I love the tube, and it really is awesome. Again, I must digress from this very sensitive blog about a humanitarian crisis in Sri Lanka by letting you all know why I love the tube. The tube really is steeped in a vast history and I feel everyone seems to either complain or have no opinion about it simply because they don't know its history; they don't appreciate the intricacies of the work that is carried so that we can have such an amazing mass transit system. I mean for example, did you know the tube have people called Fluffers? These wonderful people actually go into the tunnels at night and clean out all the hair that has been blown into the tunnels from the platforms! God, I do sometimes doubt whether I can live the rest of my without the help of a psychiatrist.

So, with my mum leaving for the protest with her chums and my bro thoroughly disappointed at not being able to win against his mum, I decided to get set for this excursion to London. I thought I better wrap up (statisticians claimed the weather will be quite cold) and consulted a Welsh guide to arctic survival. I really was determined to keep the cold out and used top of the range arctic gear to keep me warm; Gloves, two scarves, a big coat and a fluffy sheep. I must digress here yet again to crush some vicious rumours going around town about myself. I categorically deny any rumours that I fancy sheep. I find them wholly unattractive and they do not inflame my sexual ardour. I think the blasphemous comments made by some people in town are absolute poppycock! (I believe this is what we British called: "stiff upper lip")

All this digression is making my blog feel like a television program on sky one. 5 minutes (lines) of blog and 10 minutes of utter bollucks (aka TV adverts). It also feels like a program being interrupted by party political broadcast.

So there I am ready for the off and my brother is ready with his much more simpler arctic survival kit, a coat and an iPod, and we start walking down to the famous Gants Hill tube station. I've decided to stop digressing so I won't explain why Gants Hill tube station is famous. At first it was quite a pleasant walk with good company but then my brother realised that it was me he was walking with and decided to play his iPod at full volume so he doesn't have to listen to the crap coming out of my mouth (people do often confuse me with a broken toilet). Scary how he seems to be the only one on this planet who does that to me! There really is some global slowing down going on and it's not just the economy!

Obviously, the tube journey was rather standard apart from the lady at the ticket counter shouting at me because my brother did not have his oyster card. God there is never any winning for me. Arriving at Westminster was actually quite a shock. I had never seen so many Tamil people outside a temple in my life. I was almost embarrassed to hear these people talk in their mother tongue; I'm just so used to seeing these large flocks of Tamil people in certain places only. Westminster tube station is NOT one of them. Walking out of the station the first thing I noticed before seeing the large mob of people gathered on the street was the pub. I noticed the alcoholic smell of some of the protesters, not a good sign on the face of things. I secretly wanted John Prescott to make a cameo appearance and punch a few of the protestors. If you ask me I think the entire protest was triggered by pub statisticians (accountants) and tabloid newspaper statisticians. The tabloid statisticians realised they won't have enough stories for the newspaper on the Sunday and the pubs in Westminster were suffering from bad business since Charles Kennedy stepped down as leader of the Liberal Democrats. The statisticians realised that Downing Street is the "hip" area to be when it comes to protests and decided to start up the protest themselves.

Yes, you may argue that I should've stayed at the protest for more than ten seconds if I wanted to see a punch up but I was filled with a strange sense of melancholy and decided to cheer myself up by walking along the strand and walking into McDonald's. It was the first time I've walked into a McD's for at least 3 years and my god has it changed! It now has some post modern seating arrangement with Wi-Fi. It still doesn't cater for sheep though, although my sheep was happy to laugh at the big macs, quarter pounders, filet-o-fish and Chicken nuggets. I still felt a tad melancholic which is better than being an alcoholic I suppose. Or is it?

So really, what can we conclude from this? Who are the winners in this protest? Well the hundreds of thousands of people who are homeless, hungry or dead in Sri Lanka have clearly not had their lives improved, statisticians are still cocks, sheep have given up on trying to take over Wales and have become rudimentary arctic cold weather gear and I know why the central line platforms at Bank station are curved. This leaves us with two key winners; my mother, pub landlords and, above all, the Media.

 

Special K.

 

Before I sign out for tonight, I must take the opportunity on this blog to thank Mr. George W. Bush for his wonderful service to the world and bearded people. I wanted to do a whole article on him as homage to the humorous man from Texas but I could only find one thing of note. It was yesterday, while thinking of a solution to end world poverty, did it occur to me that I did not know the great man's name. Yes, I use the term "great" ironically but I really had to find out what the W stood for! I thought it might be something conservative like William or Wilkinson but it turned out to be WET! Yes, the leader of the "greatest" nation on Earth is called G. Wet. Bush. The worst thing is that he was bullied at school and was "affectionately" known as "Skip the Foreplay". I tell you something, that really does explain a lot.

 

Financial Investment – P DIDDY’s Jewellery - The death of Foliage – Scolari’s dodgy Squad rotation

I recieved an email this morning from a company, that will remain nameless for the duration of this rant, telling me “where to invest in 2009”.

I thought to myself, surely financial “investment” is as bad as me walking down to my local ladbrokes and putting a tenner on some horse, probably called Nazi’s Gold, winning the 15.10 at Landsdowne Road on Sunday. Yes ok fine that is a load of cack. Financial investments involve lots of clever bankers doing complicated maths and statistics (saving the reputation of statisticians – or am I? No, they still are cocks...). Really, I think it is safe to conclude that financial investment, investment banks etc are just a more complicated form of me going into the betting shop. Just like going to war against Saddam Hussain and Iraq is a more complicated form of lamping your best mate (while a bit drunk) around the head a few times for “stealing your missus”. The U.S. had to persuade the world there were weapons of mass destruction, send some guy, who was just some pimp’s jewellery (Hans BLIX), to inspect for weapons of mass destruction and then send in troops to look for some beardy man who looked like a pirate at best (Saddam). If u ask me, I wouldn’t be surprised if Obama’s first act as president was to remove the troops from Iraq and Afghanistan while ending the war on terror by admitting that bearded men don’t turn him on, thus causing Bush to jump off a cliff and kill himself (yes, he wasn’t very smart...he always thought he had a beard...and his speech-writers forgot to tell him that the war on terror was the rest of the world at war against him).

a Maybe it is true love for Osama and Bush after all. (Courtesy of http://home.graffiti.net/poisonpopcorn:graffiti.net/pics/bush_osama.jpg)

Anyway, back to these financial investments and investors. They have got us into a bit of a mess and I believe like Obama (and his anti-terror measures) we should ensure changes are made. Instead of getting rid of these investment bankers and causing more bust ups at the new branch of JobCentre Plus in Chigwell, I pledge that government send out football style scouts on a talent search. A search looking for people who are doing well in gambling all their money and getting more back, these people should then be sent to the land of the banks (Canary Wharf) where they will replace our disgraced bankers. These bankers won’t face repossessions or re-housing as a result of losing their jobs, they will become part of a disgraced banker placement scheme, which will place these bankers into betting shops and casinos around the world where they can “rehabilitate” and rebuild their skills. As soon as our “new talent” start faltering like their banking predecessors, the government merely swap them with the old bankers thus causing a rotation of bankers and keeping the economy afloat. It’s what Gaffers like Alex Ferguson and Luis Felipe Scolari call the “squad rotation system”.

So yeah, it seems that the ideas originally used by football will save the British economy. Might as well seeing football hasn’t been affected by the credit crunch.
Special K.