Monday, 14 May 2007

The White Frank Bruno

El governmento tells us about inflation figures of two or three per cent year after year, doesn't sound like much does it? Well when I was a lad chips were 6p or 8p a portion and then they went up to 8p and 12p, it's added up since then hasn't it?

And how do crime figures keep coming down? I remember when you could leave your bike outside all night and still get change from a penny. That's how we ended up at war again. Monkey brains couldn't make a nuke if you gave him a glass of cold water and a boat load of meccano.

Audley Harrison had more fight than that, but we chalked up another victory for demarcacy anyway. Iraq was supposed to be Tony's Falklands but he arsed it. Just like anyone would who's main experience of combat was limited to a candlelit dinner with Cherie. You can't blame the poor sap, but you can't exactly congratulate him either.

So, if Margaret T was the Iron Lady What will we call Tony Baloney? He used to be known as the Ryan Giggs of politics. Now, we could call him The Man Jimmy Carter always wanted to be, or the white Frank Bruno, the thinking man's Keith Chegwin, The Iron Lung, The Black Vegetable, the Carbon Footprint of Elvis, The Graham Taylor of team building and so on an so forth.

I could go on but I feel I'm delaying the second coming of Pontius Pilates. He likes to have the stage to himself, allegedly.


French Presidential Erection

Strawberries and kiwi fruit "make the man's liquid taste better" A past girlfriend told me that, in all seriousness. I was amused, but should I have been offended? After all, she had tasted my liquid on several occassions, even sober. She also told me the secret to making the woman's liquid more yummy but I can't remember it now. I suppose the easy thing would be to insert the kiwi fruit and strawberries. Now what's that called? It's not an enema and I don't suppose it's a suppository, I suppose that's the same thing as an enema, but who would have supposed that a suppository is supposed to go into Australia? But going forward, Pessary rings a distant bell. Imagine that on the dessert menu "does the fruit pessary come with whipped cream?"

Mozambique is threatening to cut electricity supplies to Zimbabwe because they haven't paid their bills ammounting to $9m.
Zimbabwe's Ambassador to the UN, Boniface Chidyausiku speaking on Zimbabwe getting the CSD presidency said: "It's our right. We're members of the United Nations and we're members of CSD, and the Africa group did make a decision and endorsed Zimbabwe... they're making a storm out of a teacup."

That's the real reason why Englanders are moving abroad by the truckload, when Johnny Foriegner arses a quote like that it's easier to be living abroad. The next time someone tells me I'm making a storm out of a tea cup I want to tell him he's got it wrong without having to re-write baa-baa-black-sheep.

It's annual sing song time again in Europe. Ireland is the most successful nation since the competition began in 1956, with seven wins. This year Serbia won because the Ukranian effort was a Tranny. Next year the prize will be instant membership of the EU. After that the competition will stop being about "songs" and turn into a competition about who can find a way to profit out of Turkey joining the second French Revolution. The prize for that will be a kick in the nuts from Segolene Royale, I'm already penning my entry on behalf of Kazahkstan.

I never wanted to be the French President's enama but until that vote came in, the sun was almost shining.


Sunday, 13 May 2007

Travel Monologue, Five of Five

I know I wrote the epilogue already but this is Bollywood, no one cares about continuity or content, as long as the costumes and songs are new.

So, on Friday, after 12 months of bike, tram and metro, the nut-doctor finally relented and wrote a note to my loving employer who promptly endowed me with a day-glo blue/green family car. Very funny. Luckily Girlfriend owns a decent vehicle which I can also drive again.

The very next day (Saturday) I jumped into the drivers seat and set off like Ben Johnson going to an all-nighter in Amsterdam. Which is not far from the actual location of a most excellent barbecue/birthday party to which we were invited by Girlfriend's friend's boyfriend. Maarvellous.

We stayed in a hotel, not far from his house. They had a trainee on reception so we shuffled about and smiled politely while the cross-eyed supervisor guided her around the system. On seeing the room had twin beds I immediately said we had to swap. Girlfriend was not convinced to go to the effort for one night, but when she saw the bathroom she changed her mind. All the towels were on the floor, drenched, just like that scene from Planes, Trains And Automobiles after John Candy leaves the bathroom for Steve Martin. It's a small town, near Schiphol airport, where we discovered a full blown shopping centre complete with a tech shop which had a remarkable collection of movie classics, proper old classics not Man About the House, or Carry on Tits. Being something of a cultural black hole myself, I drooled over the camcorders while Girlfriend poured over the entire collection and picked out a couple of flics.

It was quick drive back today, not much traffic only to find the Tervuren Annual Street party is going on, not a bad end to the weekend. There's something about those things, the smell of food cooking in the open air brings back the childhood excitement of fun fairs and the seaside.

But now, I have to prepare the week. Monday night I'm off to Helsinki, Tuesday night I'll head to Copenhagen, back to the Sprout on Wednesday night, from Thursday I've got three or four days cycling around Loire with Girlfriend.