Friday, September 23, 2005


Yes, I know you've read the title, be patient the condoms come later.

Whilst browsing the online Times this morning a piece guaranteed to get my dander up leapt out
at me. Why? Because it had the word POPE in it. (oops Bless me Father for I have sinned).

Don't get me wrong I don't have anything against the Pope, he's probably a very nice chap (in small doses), its what he represents and worse, the huge influence he and his posse of overdressed, over fed, cardinals wield over the poor and repressed.

He has announced (bless his mitre) that homosexual priests are to be banned. (article at the bottom of the page). Well, apart from my horror at the blatent discrimination, he'll be announcing a recruitment drive next, because he will have a severe staffing shortage in his many parishes. He'll be peforming frontal lobotomies and prescribing bromide next.

Why cannot a homosexual be a priest for God's sake. OK, OK I know it's in the Bible somewhere. Hello? This is 2005.

I also fail to understand how a rule of celibacy promotes an understanding of us mere mortals who lead lives with families, partners, children and all the dross that goes with it. Obviously the word "empathy" is not in the Catholic Rule Book.

Which brings me on nicely (coff) to the Catholic Church's policy on contraception - which incidentally has been known to make me go outside and scream at the trees.

How many women have died in the past through back street abortions because of this doctrine?
It doesn't bear thinking about.

We have an AIDS epedemic, condoms would reduce the spread of this aweful disease, but no, Mr. Pope won't bend and prefers his flock to die long lingering painful deaths, children to be born with it, and calls it "The Will of God".

Now it's fantasy time again, sorry I just cannot help myself. If I didn't take the mick I'd become very miserable and we don't want that do we?

Holy (no, not holey) Condoms. Manufactured at the Vatican (I'm sure they have a vast room somewhere doing nothing). Blessed on site, annointed with Holy Water, guaranteed sin proof.

Marketing campaign: Free Holy Wafers with every Purchase. Enter our competition and win a free tour for two to the Holy Condom Factory in Italy. Buy one, get a free Hail Mary. Autographed Pic of His Holiness, send in coupons. Design your own Condom Competition. Win Dinner out with your favourite priest. Win the exclusive opportunity to hear confession from the priest of your choice.

Design: Will come in a range of exlusive colours, particulary blood red. Three flavours, Holy wafer, sacremental wine, and unleavened bread. Condoms will also come with " guilty concience alleviating" designs. Three in particular, the Father, The son, and the Holy Ghost known as our Exclusive "Trinity Collection". and a "Host" of others to calm paranoia regarding your fear of your after death fate.

For our younger users: trendy and uplifting slogans printed on the side of your condom, such as Purgatory Sucks, Jesus wants me for a sunbeam, Christ on a pogo stick, Let Jesus into your life, Thank God for Jesus, This is NOT protestant condom, Holey Moley.

Enough of this, I have only one thing to say to the Pope, "You are virgin on the ridiculous, go forth, and multiply.

The Article:

Pope to ban homosexual priests
The Roman Catholic Church is about to ban men who are even suspected of latent homosexual tendencies from training as priests.
Vatican sources said that the Pope will recommend mobilising all the resources of modern psychology to weed out those with homosexual thoughts.

Openly homosexual men are already barred from the priesthood, although this has not prevented gay scandals in several seminaries.
Several specialised publications recently have alluded to a new document on priestly training that is intended for bishops and directors of seminaries, the Catholic training institutes.
However, a Vatican official said that there were no plans to publish the document immediately, even though it has been under preparation for the past three years by the Vatican congregation for Catholic education, which is in charge of seminary training, since the issue of priestly pedophilia exploded in the United States.


Thursday, September 22, 2005


Good Morning World. Following on from yesterday's discovery that the mentally unstable play with the money markets and to be brain damaged and emotionally barren allows risk taking and the facility for making risky decisions.

I took a leap (maybe a big one) and related all this to politics.

Well, we have an answer folks. If only we can get Mr. Gates to invesitgate it, develop it further, and come up with a nice neat, tiny version of it.

I still cannot get the link thingy, so will post the article at the bottom of this page, if you'll just allow me to fantasise a little, cos I'm good at that.

An algorithm has been written that will allow a 99 percent accuracy, during an MRI scan on the brain to detect when someone is lying. Apparently there is a visible change when a lie is told.

If Mr. Gates would get his finger out, we could use this, after having a national, nay, international referendum, for it's compulsory use on the functioning psychopaths and in particular our esteemed world leaders

Mr. Bush does like his baseball caps, doesn't he, so there we have the ideal vehicle for it. We could install a warning, flashing light in the said cap, to alert the masses to his never ending deviousness, but even better, a short, sharp electric shock, may persuade him that sincerity and honesty is the best policy. Over time, a bit like Pavlov's dog really. I wonder how long it would take to train him? I think extra time would need to be allowed for Mr. Bush, he's a bit thick. Another advantage would be to wipe that never ending smirk of his face.

Maybe some extra pain would also persuade him that signing the Kyoto Agreement would be an honourable thing to do.

Our Tony never seems to wear a hat. Put one in is ear and make his teeth light up, we see those lovely nashers so often. Even better (concentrate Bill and listen) introduce a soundwave such as those used in lithotrypters for blasting Kidney stones and make his nashers fall out one, by one. It won't take long.

Oh, I could get quite carried away with this. I think my evil side is coming out today. No, it's just my frustration with the world in general.

Anyway here is the article.

MRI brain scan the ultimate lie detector JAMES REYNOLDS
BRAIN imaging techniques that can reveal when a person is lying are now reliable enough to identify criminals with near faultless accuracy.
Neuroscientists using magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) scans - which provide a computer-generated picture of the brain's workings - have developed a near 100 per cent accurate formula to separate lies from the truth, a report in the journal Nature reveals.

The researchers believe that their test is now ready for real-life scenarios.

The test works by monitoring the frontal lobes of the brain. When somebody lies, their brain inhibits them from revealing the truth, and this makes the frontal lobes more active. By analysing the brain activity during scenarios in which subjects tell both truths and lies, they have developed an algorithm that can identify each response with 99 per cent accuracy. The team gave volunteers an envelope containing two playing cards and $20. Subjects could keep the money if they lied convincingly in the tests.

One of the scientists who worked on the study, Rugen Gur, said: "A lie is always more complicated than the truth. You think a bit more, and MRI picks that up."


Wednesday, September 21, 2005


I wish I could get the hang of putting the link thingy in the text, meanwhile I shall use the "copy and paste" thingy. It's not the whole article, if you want that it's in yesterday's Times.

In the Times yesterday, an article popped up regarding the brains of those exalted movers of money in the the markets. It disturbs me because these folk have a huge influence on world economy and the rest of us mere mortals.

The theory regarding the risk taking by the emotionally impaired and the types of decisions seems a bit close to the type of decisions and risks involved in politics to me.

Eurika! We are controlled by the mentally ill.

Tony and George, report for your brainscan forthwith, oh, and bring Gordon Brown with you just in case.

Here is a part of the article:

Wanted: psychopaths to play the stock marketBy Martin Waller
CITY brokers have never enjoyed the best of reputations. The popular image is of a brash and boastful twentysomething with more money than sense or sensitivity.
But now a study by a group of eminent American academics suggests that star performers on the stock market may be even worse and could best be described as “functioning psychopaths”.
In a study of investors’ behaviour, the team from three US universities suggest that people with brain damage can make better financial decisions than the rest of us.
Market traders may feel slighted, but this study comes from the growing field of neuroeconomics, which investigates the mental processes that drive financial decision-making.
The experts found that emotions can make investors play it too safe. They claim the emotionally impaired are more willing to gamble for high stakes.
The US team found that people with certain brain injuries which suppress their emotions could make the best stock market traders.

I suppose I could take comfort in the fact that my lack of money, is due to my emotional stability? I'll bear that in mind, when the next bill comes in.


Tuesday, September 20, 2005


As I am not feeling particularly creative today, or indeed aggravated by anything, but feel guilty if I don't post something.

Here is a piece out of a book I found whilst sorting through my junk. I hope it amuses someone.

Sit down in the lotus position, facing
a full-length mirror
In complete silence, stare at your own face in
the mirror, without blinking
For three or four hours
nothing will happen
After four to six hours, the eyes of the face in
the mirror will start to roll its eyes and its
tongue will flop out of its mouth
Do not be alarmed - this is perfectly normal.
After seven to eight hours, the face in the
mirror will suddenly become distorted and
appear to be screaming. Do not be alarmed -
this is perfectly normal.
After eight to ten hours the face in the mirror
will come to meet yours. It will feel as if you
are bashing you head repeatedly into a glass
You will now find yourself in an altered state of
This is known as unconciousness.
It is followed by another higher state,
known as hospital.

Monday, September 19, 2005


I have just downloaded my e-mail. Incidentally, thankyou Colcam. As usual the viagra spam rolls in and I duly block the sender, knowing full well, like scottish midges there will be another one to take it's place - a never ending war of attrition.

Over the last couple of days something new has err popped up. Penis enlargement patches. In three strengths no less - Steel (ouch), Silver and Gold. Oh dear I cannot stop giggling like a schoolgirl while I'm writing this.

Steel (wince) is a super strength patch.

Silver and gold come with an exercise manual (my eyes are watering now).

First of all, where do you stick the patch?

Second what's in the exercise manual. My imagination is running riot - mini dumbells, a plumb line with a heavy weight on the end?

Thirdly, do men actually buy these, and more incredibly believe all this crap and part with money?

However on a more sombre note this is a sad reflection on society's need to conform to the "acceptable" image. Making people paranoid about their bodies, lifestyle, when really the diversity of the human race, be it colour, creed, etc. is what we should rejoice in.

Oh well, come the revolution.


Saturday, September 17, 2005


Last week-end I made a trip down to the midlands. Left at 5 in the morning, drove down the A9, with wonderful views of the wilderness which is the Cairngorms.

On to M54 and launched into a frenzied world of commuters, lorries, bad weather, bad drivers (do they not learn what their indicators are for these days?) and endless roadworks.

Whilst being inextricably drawn into the frenzy, a red car passed me. In the rear window the symbol of the fish. They are everywhere these days......born again christians. Everyone has the right to their own belief system, but this lot follow it blindly (well, the ones I've met did) and never seem to question - folks this is 2005, we are not living in caves and discovering the world or gazing at the night sky and wondering, so where is the logic????

Underneath the fish symbol, a sticker. "Thank God for Jesus". What!

Jesus, I am told, was the Saviour of Mankind. Not doing a good job so far is he? Save us from what, I'd like to know. Ourselves? Now, that would be clever.

Or, did the driver of the red car, who pulled out, not using indicators, doing at least 100 mph on a wet road believe Jesus was going to protect him from being mangled to a pulp on the motorway and arrange for all us athiests to join the "motorway pile up club" as punishment. Yes, he probably did, what a sobering thought.

Steven Hawking has been quoted that he thinks there is a higher power. Personally I think he lost the plot in his 25 mile long equation and without an answer, used it as an excuse. Or did he just run out of blackboard to write on.

In the words of Monty Python "Pray that there's intelligent life somewhere out in space, 'cause there's bugger all down here".

After 9 hours driving in horrendous weather, I arrived at my destination. A town, surrounded by other towns, supermarkets, out of town shopping centres. All stretching endlessly into the distance with the odd green patch thrown in. The asphalt jungle. Twenty Four hours a day noise, engines, people, police sirens, jet aircraft, the police helicopter, car horns, lorry horns, brakes squealing, not to mention the quality of the air, need I go on?

Two days later, after a pleasant visit with my family, I scuttled back to my house in the North West Highlands to listen to the sparrows fart.


Friday, September 09, 2005


I have just found this in the Scotsman archive from 2002.

Read on and enjoy!!!

Startled marines find Afghan men all made up to see them. In Bagram
BRITISH marines returning from an operation deep in the Afghan mountains spoke last night of an alarming new threat - being propositioned by swarms of gay local farmers.
An Arbroath marine, James Fletcher, said: "They were more terrifying than the al-Qaeda. One bloke who had painted toenails was offering to paint ours. They go about hand in hand, mincing around the village."

While the marines failed to find any al-Qaeda during the seven-day Operation Condor, they were propositioned by dozens of men in villages the troops were ordered to search.
"We were pretty shocked," Marine Fletcher said. "We discovered from the Afghan soldiers we had with us that a lot of men in this country have the same philosophy as ancient Greeks: ‘a woman for babies, a man for pleasure’."
Originally, the marines had sent patrols into several villages in the mountains near the town of Khost, hoping to catch up with al-Qaeda suspects who last week fought a four-hour gun battle with soldiers of the Australian SAS. The hardened troops, their faces covered in camouflage cream and weight down with weapons, radios and ammunition, were confronted with Afghans wanting to stroke their hair.
"It was hell," said Corporal Paul Richard, 20. "Every village we went into we got a group of men wearing make-up coming up, stroking our hair and cheeks and making kissing noises."
At one stage, troops were invited into a house and asked to dance. Citing the need to keep momentum in their search and destroy mission, the marines made their excuses and left. "They put some music on and ask us to dance. I told them where to go," said Cpl Richard. "Some of the guys turned tail and fled. It was hideous."
The Afghan hill tribes live in some of the most isolated communities in the country. "I think a lot of the problem is that they don’t have the women around a lot," said another marine, Vaz Pickles. "We only saw about two women in the whole six days. It was all very disconcerting."
A second problem the British found came minutes after the first helicopter touched down at one of the hilltop firebases, when local farmers appeared demanding compensation for goats they claimed had been blown off the mountains by the rotor blades. "Every time we landed a Chinook near a village, we got some irate bloke running up to us saying his goat has just got blown off the mountain ridge by the helicopter - and then he demanded a hundred dollars compensation," said Major Phil Joyce, commander of Whisky Company, one of four companies deployed.
As patrols moved away from the landing zones, the locals began pestering Afghan troops attached to the marines with ever more outrageous compensation demands - topping off at a demand from one village elder for $500 (£300) for damage to a tree by the downdraft from helicopters.
But the marines were under orders to win the "hearts and minds" of local farmers in what is one of the few remaining Taleban bastions. "I managed to barter him down to two marine pens, a pencil and a rubber," Major Joyce said. "He went away quite happy ."


Wednesday, September 07, 2005


Greetings all earthlings. Especially those of you who use credit cards, well that takes in 9 tenths of the planet in one go. Particularly, those who are tearing their hair out about the bills, the interest rates and wearing a hair shirt and beating themselves with sharp objects over their weakness for consumerism. Still nine tenths of the planet - I did, I heard the collective groan, don't deny it. As the well known saying goes "you are not alone" which only backs up my previous theory on the planet Zog and the Zogithian plot to rule planet earth.

As an aside, those of you who are warming to the "Zog" theory, as perhaps a valid explanation for your woes, financial or otherwise - see a doctor immediately. I suggest Prozac, such a nice calming little capsule. Those who claim to have "communicated" with the Zogithians, I would suggest seeking an immediate injection to bring you back to your senses. Dial the emergency number, explain your predicament and I guarantee someone will come to remove you to pastures new - beamed up to Zog maybe for letting the cat out of the bag.

Anyway I digress - here is the point of my Blog:

In the Scotsman newspaper this morning:

Story in full BANKS are ripping off consumers by at least £100 million a year through "unduly high" credit card fees.
The charges apply to Mastercard credit cards, which are issued by all the major banks.
The fees are levied by the banks on retailers who pass on the cost to customers by raising the price of goods in their shops.
Office of Fair Trading (OFT) - the government's competition watchdog which has been investigating the practice - said yesterday that banks had been unable to justify the fees, which acted "like a tax on consumers".
Its conclusion means all Mastercard purchases between March 2000 and last November were, in effect, in breach of competition law. But Mastercard and the banks involved will escape a fine because of their co-operation with the OFT.
The consumer watchdog believes that at least £100 million and perhaps as much as £200 million of "illegal" fees are charged each year.
In 2004 alone, more than 700 million purchases, worth £42.7 billion, were made using credit cards in the Mastercard network.
fee through higher retail prices".
The fee is set collectively by the banks, and under competition law is supposed to cover only the cost of handling transactions. But the OFT found the banks set an illegally high fee that allowed them to recover other costs, such as advertising and interest-free offers.
An OFT spokesman said: "This distorted competition betwThe inquiry focused on the "interchange fee" levied on retailers by banks. The OFT found that "consumers, including those who do not use Mastercard cards, ultimately picked up the cost for the higher interchangeeen the Mastercard scheme and alternative methods of payment such as debit cards, cheques or cash."

I rest my case. We are like lambs to the slaughter.

Have a nice day


Tuesday, September 06, 2005


I have been surfing the blogs out there. Boy are there some angry Americans out there - and rightly so.

Mr. Bush, has always impressed me as being an inarticulate, bungling, no brainer. Which raises the question - why did he get elected TWICE???

Forgive my ignorance of American politics, but I cannot believe the majority of Americans want him as leader so, what goeth on?

However it could be said why did Tony Blair get in twice: answer, no viable alternative and apathetic voting. They should both be retired to the twilight home (or should that be zone) for incompetant and egotistical washed out politicians, err perhaps politician is too kinder word. Chain them to a table and make them write "I am a Liar" over and over again, all day, everyday. Put the table in a swamp.

Enough of this rambling I think. Must get back into gear and get back on the highway.


Monday, September 05, 2005


My last post was about a time a year ago, which started me on this rocky road to ruin or enlightenment - haven't quite decided which it's to be. One day it's the latter, today it's the former.

Will someone tell me how a bank can have the audacity to charge £39 for a rejected direct debit and tell you it's policy with a straight face. Who are these people, and what planet were they beamed down from in order to invade and conquer earth by stealth. I can hear them now on the planet Zog - "We'll open banks, and rule the masses by creating debt and stress, that'll keep the little bastards under control" So, there they are living life to full and using my £39, and many other peoples no doubt, to pay for the bubbly at the shareholders meetings. I hate being ripped off, and even worse being ripped off legally. I take full responsiblity for the rejected direct debit, but £39 for an electronic blip in the ether that didn't blip harmoniously - christ on a bike!

Now, we come to that other set of aliens. The ones in charge of paperwork at the Department of Health and Social Security. Drowning the earthlings in re-cycled trees, whilst cunningly screwing up the eco system. Why do you need a form, which is 14, yes, fourteen pages long, in order to ascertain whether someone is sick and eligible for the mind blowing sum of £55 per week, when certificates from the doctor are produced. Is this not proof enough? The back of the certificate contains all the relevant information, such as social security number and duly signed by the afflicted. They'll be insisting on vomit samples next and then when you visit to hand in your medical certificate, it'll be "just piss in that jar over there, join the queue to hand it in, then wait for 10 hours in the other queue while it's processed, and I know you're not well, but please try to stay upright". "Oh, and by the way, don't plan on eating or paying for your medicine for a while, it takes 6 weeks to process your payment" (all said in a nauseating, sing song electronic voice). Meanwhile the head honchos on aformentioned planet Zog are laughing their little green socks off.

Oh dear, I think I need to go and lie down in a dark room.


Saturday, September 03, 2005


In November 2003 I was approached and woo'ed by a recruitment agency. Better job, more money, company car, out on the road managing managers. I was so excited and, of course flattered. Beware the ego, it can trip you up badly. Or is that fecking butterfly in the rain forest at it again?

My first interview was a breeze and I knew I had the job in the bag. Time came for the second interview with the Ops Executive (whom I later named Jabba the Hut - a dead ringer).

I had to travel 200 miles by train for this, an early train which I have used many many times.
This particular day I went to buy a paper and came out of the kiosk to see the ass of my transport pulling out of the station. Oh the feeling as my stomach sank, my mouth fell open with disbelief convinced the train had left early, it wasn't my train, or I was hallucinating due to having to get out of my pit at 5am and look intelligent and groomed to perfection. Remember, I live in the Highlands of Scotland...trains don't run every 15 minutes, in fact the efficiency of Scotrail, or rather lack of it could be blogged into oblivion and beyond. I'll save that rant for another time.

I retreated to the coffee shop for a comfort cappuccino and to try and stop hyperventilating so my mind could come up with a plausible story for being late. Easy, blame it on Scotrail, no contest. I delved into the rip in the space time continuum otherwise known as a handbag and gobbler of personal items when you need them urgently....I've actually heard my phone ring from across the void and give up, only to re-appear mysteriously 6 hours later. This time I needed my reading glasses (I cannot see a word without them), they were visiting the 5th dimension, no such luck, I'd left them at home. How was I going to complete a phsycometric test without a crash course in Braille and said test to be converted to this medium at short notice, without Jabba being just a tad suspicious about my suitability for the job. Hyperventilation was becoming second nature to me along with that wide eyed stare that goes with it, hmmmm very becoming. Small animals and children will run for cover when I appear from now on. My husband, who was sitting there trying to make soothing noises remembered an "off the shelf" pair of glasses knocking around the car...problem solved, I'll just look like a myopic owl today and pretend I am normal.

My eyes returned to their normal state, my breathing slowed. I made a phone call and cursed Scotrail to the ends of the earth and arranged the interview for an hour later with no problem.

Then a voice in my head shouted "It's an omen, don't go". I turned to my husband and said "It's an omen - I'm not going". He said "Don't be so bloody stupid, get on the fucking train".

The moral of this tale? If you are defnitely not, or are not in the process of being diagnosed with schizophrenia - LISTEN TO THE VOICE!


Friday, September 02, 2005

Why am I here???

Good question!!! One I cannot answer. I just sort of drifted into this blog site, and, in view of the huge contrast in my life from a year ago, thought I would use it to air thoughts, revelations (there have been many), and anything else that springs to mind.

After many years of working 60 - 80 hour weeks in the business world, I was made redundant last November and am still not working - sort of by choice, but only sort of. (but oh! howI miss my company car!) It's amazing how events occur and knit together like a zip, each locking into the other and creating that "if a butterfly flaps it's wings in the rain forest" syndrome.

I live in the North West Highlands of Scotland, in the middle of a deer forest, miles down a single track road. (I own a very large freezer!). I had the best of both worlds, a career and paradise (when the midges are not out) to retreat to. Now I retreat.

Not much of a start, but I hope someone talks back to me. Was everybody this terrified when they started a blog?????