Brits decended from their Ancestors Shock!

"Over two million Britons are related to convicts sent to Australia from the late 18th Century, a new online database has revealed."

Well duh, people sent from Britain a long time ago have decendents, wait for it....... living in Britain! who'd have thought it. They'll discover that some Irish are distantly related to some Americans next, you wait and see.

A bit of overkill maybe?

From the Times Website "Pagans have described a painting of Homer Simpson daubed next to the Cerne Abbas Giant, the chalk fertility symbol in Dorset, as disrespectful. “We’ll be doing some rain magic to bring the rain and wash it away,” said Ann Bryn-Evans, joint Wessex district manager for the Pagan Federation."



With half the west country underwater, that's some serious Mojo that the crusty hippy brigade have been waving about. As the sun's finaly come out i'm wondering whether or not I should pop over there and see if it worked.

Goodbye and Good Riddance, but the Champagne Stays on Ice.

The 27th of June 2007 was a day that in retrospect i have been looking forward to since May 1997 , it will be remembered as the day that Tony "Grinning Twat" Blair finally had all is belongings carted out of downing street and fucked off back up north to announce to the retarded bunch of coal munching whippet fanciers who've been returning him to Parliament for the last 25 years that he was finaly retiring from British political life.

To make life even better he's taken up a new job which will involve him spending considerable amounts of time within mortar range of some very pissed off and heavily armed Arabs.

However despite this I felt down hearted, the champagne remains on ice and rather than spending last night swinging from the rafters in orgy of celebration I spent the evening watching Pirates of the Caribbean 3 in the local flea pit. I can only attribute this malaise to two things, the manner of his departure and the nature of his successor.

Others have written far more eloquently about his replacement than I could hope, suffice to say that the one eyed arse bandit will more than likely be worse in every conceivable way than Blair and that there is no prospect a government led by this self righteous porridge wog doing anything to change the course that the country is taking. So look forward to more centralisation, more taxation and more interfering nannying by the "Gordo knows best" government.

What really gets my goat though is the way that the cunt was given a standing ovation by MPs after finishing in the commons yesterday, even the opposition (who have supposed to of been trying to remove his clammy hands from the leavers of power for 10 years), saw fit to praise his achievements (surrendering to the IRA and propping up corrupt African dictators) . None of our elevated representatives or commentating journalists said, what to me should have been blatantly obvious, i.e anything along the lines off "good riddance you treacherous, lying, incompetent, useless lump of shit, thanks for fucking up a perfectly good country and interfering in all our lives with your ridiculous ideas, now fuck off and take your ugly wife and kids with you into a (hopefully) short retirement before that dodgy ticker of yours explodes"

With hind sight I shouldn't be surprised at my disappointment. It was never likely that the Blair years would have ended as I would of liked- a rampaging mob breaking down the gates to Downing street , dragging him into the road and shooting the useless fucker in the back of the head.

The Beer Pixie is a Cunt.

Whilst walking the dog to the pub last night I suddenly experienced a strange desire, no doubt bought on by the light evenings, for a pint of Lager. Normally being a Guinness drinker the fizzy yellow stuff has little appeal but, being full of the joys of spring, I decided to relent to my inner desires and sup some of the hoppy German brew.

The evening passed, as it often does, in a pleasant miasma of conversation, good company and cheer, until as the night drew to a close, the beer pixie gathered me up in his arms and safely escorted both the dog and myself, back up the hill and to bed.

Waking up this morning I realised that the beer pixie is a funny little sod. I'm eternally grateful for his help in negotiating the couple of miles of narrow country lanes and dark treacherous muddy woodland paths between the hostelry and my home. The little chap usually only takes every penny in my pocket as compensation for ensuring that I (eventually) get home safely without falling in (too many) hedges and ditches on route. However this benevolent little sprite plainly has a vindictive side, and an impassioned dislike of Hoffbrau Export strength lager. This would explain why as he helped into my home without waking up the (whole) house and helped me to take of (some of) my clothes before retiring me (on) to my bed, the little cunt shat in my mouth, leaving me to feel bloody awful this morning.

As I lay in bed willing myself to get up and go to work I remembered why I don't drink lager. It risks the wrath of the beer pixie and tastes weird in the morning, leaving me feeling like a corpse. With a headache.

I think that in future I will stick to Guinness, It may turn your shit black, but that Lager does nasty things to my brain.

Bring Back Gun Boat Diplomacy

"As the Roman, in days of old, held himself free from indignity, when he could say, Civis Romanus sum [I am a Roman citizen], so also a British subject, in whatever land he may be, shall feel confident that the watchful eye and the strong arm of England will protect him from injustice and wrong."Lord Palmerston in 1850 after sending in the Navy to blockade the Greek Port of Piraeus because of the refusal of the Greek Government to compensate a Portuguese Jew, "Don Pacifico" after he was attacked by an anti Semitic mob in Athens. Don Pacifico was a British Citizen by virtue of having been born in Gibraltar.

"What we are trying to do at the moment is to pursue this through the diplomatic channels and make the Iranian government understand these people have to be released and that there is absolutely no justification whatever for holding them. I hope we manage to get them to realise they have to release them. If not, then this will move into a different phase." Tony Blair 2007, doing fuck all after 15 Royal Navy personnel were abducted by the Iranians whilst operating under the Authority of a UN Security Council Resolution in Iraqi Territorial Waters.

And we wonder why Johnny Foreigner doesn't respect us any more?

Astra Vans should be Banned.

My heart goes out to the driver of the Buggati Veryon above, not only has their pride and joy been ruined (even if it gets repaired all his mates will have seen how well he takes corners) not only has he been charged with driving without due care and attention, but there was also a seven month pregnant woman in the vehicle he collided with. What are the odds? New distinctive fuel guzzling sports car arrives, you take it out for a spin- do a bit of showing off to your passenger you slip in the wet and hit, not a bus full of local council officers, or a car load of Jehovah's witnesses about to start on a leaflet drop, but a pregnant woman. Couldn't have done worse if he'd hit a sack load of puppies. Poor sod will probably have Lib Dem's and other muesli eating hippies vilifying him for the rest of life. On the plus side at least the pregnant woman was in a white Astra van, so it was probably all her fault.

UPDATE: apparently the car was picked up by the same lorry that had delivered it a few days before. I'll bet that driver didn't laugh. Much.

Irritating Twat.

I'm obviously talking about the balding Egyptian Cunt, not the totty. To be honest I really couldn't care less about whether or not there will be a jury at the inquest for Diana and Dodi, It's just that every time I see this smug little bastard on TV or in the paper I always want to know why he wasn't ever charged for bribing that fucker Hamiton?

I know that this sort of behavior is now probably compulsory and that if Fayed were to offer cash to any of the current lot he'd probably be in the House of Lords, clutching his passport (ala Hinduja), faster than documents go missing out of a Harrods safety deposit box, but times were supposed to be different then.

Celebration of Castro?

Forgive your humble correspondent for being a bit late of the mark with this one but, as I don't come from London, the news that Ken Livingstone is planning to spend £2 million on a street party in honor of "50 years of justice" in Cuba completely passed me by until I read Anthony Brownes piece in today's spectator.

Having been to Cuba several times I have always been impressed by the friendliness of the Cuban People and have found it a wonderful place to wallow in some decadent western pastimes, usually with a bottle of Havana club and a Montecristo number one. Not being a total cunt I fail to see how they've benefited from fifty years of communist rule when the country has gone from one of the richest in the Caribbean to living in abject poverty.

Cuba is a country where freedom of speech and opinion are severely restricted (i.e they don't have it) and poverty is rife, with many people unable to obtain basic necessities such as dried Milk for babies without paying high prices on the black market. Though the schools where the party apparatchiks send their children are apparently brilliant, reading is restricted to state approved texts, (I'd recommend a visit to a book shop, lots of biographies of Castro and socialist rants) and the schools where ordinary Cubans send their kids fall well short of the mark. Though Cuba has a high literacy rate there are no jobs, and as for the hospitals, with the exception of the UN teaching hospital in Havana, again used mainly by party members, I'd rather go to the vets.

Next time Red Ken takes a tax payer fuelled junket to Cuba it might do him some good to pull his head out of arse, get shot of the government employed guides, leave the five star hotels and actually go and have a look at the type of "socially just" country that the old monster Castro has created. (Give you a clue, walk in a straight line from any tourist area in any direction and it won't take long.)

Rather than sending congratulations to Castro, Londoners should send the Cubans some rope and a book on knot tying, passing on the tradition of the Tyburn jig so they can string the fucker up from the nearest lamppost and get themselves a proper government.

Thinking about it that wouldn't be a bad bit of advise for any "cockney sparrows" reading this to apply at home.

Random Drink Drive Tests.

Don't get me wrong I'm not a fan of drink driving but you have to wonder what the point of giving the police the power to make random stops is. They can already pull you over for a multitude of made up reasons such as "sorry sir you appeared to be driving too close to the middle of the road/ too fast/too slow/ have just driven out of a pub etc." Or they can play silly buggers by tailgating your car with their lights on full beam and sirens off, only to put them on and pull you over for going to fast when you put your foot down to get a bit of distance between yourself and the apparent maniac intent on chasing you down and/or running you off the road. (not that i'm bitter about the speeding ticket mind)

Surely if a car is being driven properly, hasn't been involved in an accident and there is no reason to believe that the drivers pissed, they (the driver) should be allowed to go about their business without worrying about being pulled over by over-eager fuzz desperate to check his or her blood alcohol level so they can hit their quota of stops for the night and get on with the important work of giving "lifts home" to drunken teenage girls.

Home wanted

The Village Idiot has decided to part company with his longstanding girlfriend, apparently she's very well behaved provided you keep her sweet with plenty of lovin' and pasties, but unfortunately she's Cornish (poor lass) and that's just a step to far.

Free to a good home.