Always brave and ready for change, I got this new Lynx deoderant. Turns nice girls naughty? Wowsers! I'll admit that it wasn't having the desired effect. I walked around much the same as ever without women throwing themselves at me and proclaiming their unbounding lust. The mechanism on this deoderant is annoying, in fact the constant evolution of the spray mechanism on deoderant cans is a bugbear to me. What is wrong with simply pressing down I ask you? Alas, the gods of marketing think otherwise. Anyway, this one is a screw to the right and then press down jobby. After a few goes the can got fucked, in that half the deoderant came out as normal and half kind of trickled down my hand. So I took the lid off it and saw that if I manually put on the plastic...thingy and pressed it'd all be fine. Yet, one morning I managed to put the plastic...thingy on and press at the same time thereby deoderising my eyes. Note to readers: don't ever do this, it stings like fuck.
Today's the day when the Piggys come to Parliament. As you can see from this photograph, they've really turned out in force. That must be about 50, which makes it one of their bigest crowds this season. Please also note the dust-cart driving right past them, how very prophetic. Bunch of twats, fuck off back up the M1 and stop crying like whiny little bitches. Your team was rubbish and that's why you went down. And where are the other supporters? Where's Fulham? Middlesbrough? And Mr Fucking Big Gob himself: Dave Whelan? Is this was British democracy has been reduced to? Makes me sick.
The very definition of modern, televisual irony must be Amanda Holden and Piers Morgan on the show Britain's Got Talent, unless talent involves banging Bob the Builder or publishing wholly inaccurate pictures in a 'leading' UK tabloid. Channel 4, above such frippery, offers us Big Brother with about a dozen Vicki Pollards yeh but no but yeh but no but yehing until the start crying. Channel 4 has two feasible choices:
1) Fake the death of one of the twins without telling anyone apart from the 'dead' twin. Remember: death equals ratings.
2) Cancel Big Brother, evict every last deviant and twat and buy back the rights to the cricket.
And then there was Derren Brown who, let's face it, is the man. The highlight was when he was describing this dude's dream and had predicted an old woman would figure. The guy said an old friend of the family, who had recently shuffled off this mortal coil, was present. He said her name was Mrs *bleep*. Now this confused me somewhat? Was it to protect her privacy in death, or was it that her surname was actually something rude like Cunt for instance. "Darling, old Mrs Cunt is coming round for dinner tonight"
With Tony Blair, our soon to be departed Prime minister, rumoured to be entering the Catholic church, it could well serve a purpose if the Labout Party adopted a bit of papal protocol. No, I don't mean tacitly approving of the Holocaust, but rather the billowing of smoke that signals that the conclave has decided on who the new Pope will be. People will have noticed that the colour of this whole Leadership thingy has been purple. So if only the Labour Party could figure a way emitting purple smoke from 10 Downing Street? Well you could always feed the outgoing DPM some baked beans and then cast him outside, I supppose?
Chinese attempt to introduce child labour as an Olympic sport
There really has been a load of old toss sprouted about the Olympics. I blogged on it a bit ago and still feel the same. Today, however, it comes to light that whatever faults the London 2012 organisational committee have, they're not resorting to underhand tactics like our Chinese Comrades.
I can see the slogan now:
London 2012 Beijing 20 08 year olds working 20 hour shifts making all the merchandise
The euphoria of London winning the Olympics is a thing of the past. It's costing too much, it's only going to benefit London, my Council Tax is going to go up, Britain will win fuck all, robbing Lottery funding from charity, responsible for the spread of Aids/Cancer/Whooping Cough...I've heard it all, and largely I've ignored them. I still laugh at us sticking one over the French, but Jesus H. Christ, what the shitting hell is that logo? I once blogged on the ridiculous, Goleo mascot for the German World Cup* and was worried that the mascot appeared to be wearing no trousers and have no...bits, however it didn't look like Lisa Simpson blowing Bart (through rose-coloured spectacles obviously). And speaking of Bart, I would like to thank Parliament's very own Bart Simpson - no that's his chosen alias - for sending this delightful and accurate image.
* It's a really poorly written post, but is redeemed by Kerron's rant in the comments. Really toys out of the pram stuff. I'd totally forgotten, but it reaches nastiness levels normally reserved only for McDonnellites...
As some of you may know, I will be leaving Parliament at some point soon and embarking on a new career in the teaching profession. Yes, it'll be Sir Barry to you. I hope to teach history and like to think that I already have a working knowledge of British History, for instance I know that Queen Victoria was named after a pub in the East End of London. What I didn't know, however, is that Queen Victoria was black. What you didn't either? Well, I saw this and asked the Count to take a snap-shot...AS PROOF. Well, it's a lesson I'll be sure to teach those kids: you live and you learn.
I am a real stand-up guy.
Loved unanimously I have been blessed with sensationally good looks since I was a young calf. I am now addicted to Facebook. I also spend far too much time on Ebay. Inbetween these activities, I seek to bring things of great importance to you, my dearly revered readership.