LIFE IN THE SLOW LANE

RE-DIRECTION

2007-04-07T15:51:00.000Z

After all that has happened over the last 2 years, now I think I can go in a sensible direction, from a blogging point of view. Why? Read on.

For the last two years my Mother had suffered from dementia. Tragic, but sometimes amusing but in the main, tragic. I have travelled once, maybe twice a month down to my parents house in Derbyshire (a 1000 mile round trip for me) to support and help my Father. Who incidentally deserves a medal for what he has had to put up with.

When she first lost the plot my Father was in hospital and although her memory was bad enough for her not to be left alone I was called down because she had become violent. Off I went, having just found a new job after 6 months redundancy.

Looking back I think that week was probably one of the worst of my life. I had to have her sectioned and then tell my Father, on his sickbed what I had done. I felt like a criminal and her resounding shout of "You traitorous bitch" rang in my ears for a long time, and still does.

I lost my job because of the situation, and nearly my marriage into the bargain. I spent nearly a month down there wheeling my father from his ward up to the Psychiatric ward every afternoon, until he was allowed home, and of course eventually she was stabilised under a "chemical cosh" and came home too.

In the middle of all this we decided to cut our losses, make some profit and buy the boat.

That is when I started to blog - out of insanity, under the influence of anti-depressants and sheer bloody anger.

So, I lost my mother 2 years ago really. She did not really know who I was again and my every visit subjected me to a tirade of abuse, jealousy if I spoke to my father, and left me feeling hurt, rejected and unbelievably sad.

I'm not really coming to the point here, am I. I'm also not sure I should be writing about this.

My blogging has been sporadic at best, and I've found it quite hard to keep writing, which is something I love to do.

If Channel four wanted to find a bunch of people for a reality show - ie. the token gay, the alchoholic, ex SAS, french people, a judge, an ex pilot, an obsessive compulsive - and I could go on and on with this list they could not do better than a marina of live aboards and part time boaters.

So I am doing away with the other blog - THE OWL AND THE PUSSY CAT - because I never kept it up and it's boring.

I still want to write about the transition we had to this boat and about the people here and have decided to start at the beginning again with a new blog. I have started it as a narrative of letters and e-mails written to my Father and a friend. However, it's done under a new email address, for obvious reasons.

If you want to read it - e-mail on the address given on this blog and I will give you the address if you are not a relative and don't live in this boat yard.

Now I shall worry that no-one will e-mail me.

Kats ( not too sad any more).

UNTITLED

2007-03-04T09:04:00.000Z

My Mother died yesterday morning.

I feel about 5 years old again

DANGEROUS NUMBERS

2007-01-28T12:13:00.000Z

Don't you find that when you think you've got life sussed, cracked it, starting to enjoy it even. Something will always come along and bite you up the ass and give you another effing wake up call.

God forbid (and obviously she does) that we should sail (no pun intended) through our lives doing no harm to others where we can possibly help it, and glide into old age with a smile on our faces before everything stops working and we shuffle off this mortal coil.

Oh no, you have to suffer the indignity's of "bits" going south, "things" being removed. Over the last hundred years or so I have lost a kidney, a womb, an ovary, a set of appendix, a couple of ribs, and a large chunk of my bowel.

Not that long ago I was lying on a treatment couch surrounded by people, and having a camera shoved up my ass, for the umpteenth time in the last 5 years, and having banal conversations as if having a pipe the size of a fully grown python searching for food up my jacksie was an every day occurrence and of course, I couldn't feel a thing (yeah right!). Why would I worry that a male aged no more than 15 was manipulating it, and had full view of my rear end in all it's glory. I could go on for aeon's about the laxatives you have to take the day before but I won't. I think by now you should get the picture.

I think I should get to the point.

To be the do-ee, the person who is receiving the treatment, is easier than being the do-er. The do-ee has too much to deal with on a daily basis for hand wringing, worry etc. You just have to get on with it, get past it, and get on with life after indignities and missing organs.

Yes, yes I know. I'm getting there.

Mr. Kats is now in possession of dangerous numbers. 8.9 cholesterol and high blood pressure. So now I'm on the other end and worrying. Buying low cholesterol cook-books, changing the food we eat and every 5 minutes scrutinising the colour of his face. This morning I even checked to see if he was breathing. Paranoid? Who me? Never!

Angry is what I am, that someone I love is in potential danger. I want it, so he doesn't have to deal with it and the fear that goes with it.

I do hope however, that he finishes fitting those engine gaskets.

Kats :0(

QUOTE OF THE WEEK

2007-01-15T11:19:00.000Z

IRAQ IS MUCH LESS STABLE NOW THAN BEFORE WE INVADED, ADMITS BUSH.

Well I never, George, we would never have guessed.

PRIVATE EYE FRONT PAGE

2007-01-14T19:44:00.000Z

SOD SADDAM

2007-01-08T08:02:00.000Z

On, and on and on and on. Ad nauseum.

Brown condemns it, Bush says the circumstances surrounding his hanging were wrong.

That fat Leech Two jags speaks out.

Snuff movie on the internet - don't watch it then!

What did they expect from people who had been oppressed by this tyrant, been tortured, had relatives go missing? A fond farewell and forgiveness?

If, during this ridiculous war, he had been killed Bush and Blair would have proudly displayed his remains to the world in an act of triumph as they did his sons, when they were killed.

Being shown, on TV the remains of his family after they had been blown up, I found offensive and unnecessary.

Where's the difference you bunch of overpaid, overblown, hypocrites?

Kats

AL GORE FOR PRESIDENT

2007-01-05T09:13:00.000Z

I always had a sneaking suspicion at the time of the Presedential elections that Al Gore should have won, and that something underhand had robbed him of the presidency.

The fact that he lost that election was probably one of the saddest days for the U.S.A. and no doubt the rest of the planet.

I have just watched his documentary AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH.

It is funny, shocking and above all, thought provoking.

It is presented in a no frills, understandable format and holds you in thrall for the whole 93 minutes.

This should be put on the school curriculum worldwide, and never mind identity cards, issue every household with a copy of this instead, it would be money well spent.

Kats (going off to investigate bio fuels for the boat)

SCOTTISH HOT AIR

2007-01-04T15:22:00.000Z

TAE A FERT (in an Aberdeen Accent)

Oh what a sleekit horrible beastie

Lurks in yer belly efter the feastie

Just as ye sit doon among yer kin

There sterts to stir an enormous wind

The neeps and tatties and mushy peas

Stert workin like a gentle breeze

But soon the puddin wi the sauncie face

Will have ye blawin' ower the place

Nae matter whit the hell ye dae

A'bodys gonnae have tae pay

Even if ye try to stifle

It's like a bullet oot a rifle

Hawd yer bum tight tae the chair

Ta try and stop the leakin air

Shift yersel fae cheek tae cheek

Pray tae god it doesnae reek

But aw yer efforts go assunder

Oot it comes like a clap o thunder

Richochets aroon the room michty me, a sonic boom

God almighty it fairly reeks

Hope I huvnae shat me breeks

Tae the bog I better scurry

Aw whit the hell, its no ma worry

A'body roon aboot me chokin

Wan or two are nearly bokin

I'll feel better for a while

Cannae help but raise a smile

Wis him! I shout with accusing glower

Alas too late, he's just keeled ower

Ye dirty bugger they shout, and stare

I dinnae feel welcome any mair

Whit a fuss at Rabbies Perty

Ower the sake o one wee ferty

2007

2007-01-01T22:13:00.000Z

WHEW! I made it!!!!!

CHRISTMAS IS COMING & WHO'S GETTING FAT?

2006-12-23T15:04:00.000Z

Well, I'm sorry to say it's that time of year again.

Call me a miserable cow if you like, I don't care.

I'm just aghast at the frantic spending, stressed out faces of shoppers and sales assistants alike.

I shot off to Morrisons this morning about 8.30 to get some food, thinking I would beat the crowds. No such luck. Rugby scrum would be fair description. Why? For one day of the year. The police with blue lights on parked vehicles parked in the middle of the road were trying to create order out of chaos with the traffic streaming into the city centre.

Puffing, panting, red faced women, heaving king sized heavily laden trolleys into the car park. When do they eat all that? How do they eat all that? Have they got room in the fridge and cupboards for it all?

What do I do at Christmas? I don't run round frantically looking for pressies. I don't fill the house (boat rather) to overflowing with food etc only to throw half of it in the bin, which is where I am sure the majority of it ends up.

I'm not a christian, it means nothing to me. And it's certainly lost it's meaning to many christians anyway. Luckily my family is of the same opinion so I don't feel pressured into conforming, lucky me.

I have a nice dinner of roast beef and yorkshire pud and a quiet day and I don't come out till its all over and done with.

So many people complain to me about Christmas, the stress, the work, the pressure and yet they still do it. If everyone toned it down a bit they'd be much happier.

Then they do it all again the following week for New year!

Christmas is coming and who's getting fat? Answer, Retailers, credit card companies, finance companies, banks.

Bah bloody humbug.

Kats :0)

GIS A JOB

2006-12-15T10:33:00.000Z

B & Q JOB APPLICATION

This is an actual job application that a 75-year-old pensioner submitted to B&Q in Tunbridge Wells. They hired him because he was so funny.

NAME: Kenneth Way (Grumpy Bastard)

SEX: Not lately, but I am looking for the right woman (or at least one who will cooperate)

DESIRED POSITION: Company's Chief Executive or Managing Director. But seriously, whatever's available. If I was in a position to be picky, I
wouldn't be applying in the first place - would I?

DESIRED SALARY: £150,000 a year plus share options and a Tony Blair style
redundancy
package. If that's not possible, make an offer and we can haggle.

EDUCATION: Yes.

LAST POSITION HELD: Target for middle management hostility.

PREVIOUS SALARY: A lot less than I'm worth.

MOST NOTABLE ACHIEVEMENT:My incredible collection of stolen pens and
post-it notes.

REASON FOR LEAVING: It was a crap job.

HOURS AVAILABLE TO WORK: Any.

PREFERRED HOURS: 1:30-3:30 p.m. Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday.

DO YOU HAVE ANY SPECIAL SKILLS?: Yes, but they're better suited to a more
intimate environment.

MAY WE CONTACT YOUR CURRENT EMPLOYER?: If I had one, would I be here?

DO YOU HAVE ANY PHYSICAL CONDITIONS THAT WOULD PROHIBIT YOU FROM LIFTING UP TO 50 lbs.?: Of what?

DO YOU HAVE A CAR?: I think the more appropriate question here would be "Do you have a car that runs?"

HAVE YOU RECEIVED ANY SPECIAL AWARDS OR RECOGNITION?: I may already be a winner of the Reader's Digest Timeshare Free Holiday Offer, so they tell
me.

DO YOU SMOKE?: On the job - no! On my breaks - yes!

WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE DOING IN FIVE YEARS?: Living in the Bahamas with a fabulously wealthy Swedish supermodel with big tits and who thinks I'm the greatest thing since sliced bread. Actually, I'd like to be doing that
now.

NEAREST RELATIVE?: 7 miles

DO YOU CERTIFY THAT THE ABOVE IS TRUE AND COMPLETE TO THE BEST OF YOUR
KNOWLEDGE?: Oh yes, absolutely.

Kats :0)

HELL, WITH KNOBS ON

2006-12-03T19:43:00.000Z

On friday, I needed to go into the centre of the city to buy train tickets for a visit to Derbyshire, move some money, pay a couple of bills, and force myself (ha ha) to buy something to wear.

I hate shoppping.

I hate crowds.

I forgot it was December and the Christmas feeding frenzy has started.

First stop the Railway station to get the ticket. At least 15 people in the queue. One look at that and I turned around and decided to go back later.

Next stop the Building society - no queue. Whoohoo!

Next stop Boots, to get a top up for my 3 phone. Very very large queue, I waited, and waited (yawn) waited some more. Got the receipt thingy with the code on (they don't do swipe cards), stuffed it in my bag and escaped.

Clothes shop. Picked up what I wanted, stood at the till and waited, and ******ing waited. Hopped about a bit, had a look at some other stuff and then waited and waited some more.

Bank of Scotland to pay a Bank of Scotland credit card bill. Must have been 25 people in this queue. I waited and listened to that electronic voice - Counter 3 please, Counter 1 please, every time a teller pushed a button having dealt with a customer. We all shuffled forward at the sound of the voice. Did I not see a science fiction film once with this particular scene in, but weren't they queuing for their pills? By the time I've shuffled to my destination at the counter the terminal boredom will have me begging for a pill. Finally, I get there to be told I can't pay in the bank, it will have to be posted - Christ on a bloody bike!

To the Post Office then, to get a stamp to post it with. Yet another electronic voice system and a queue snaking off round several barrier thingies. Rather than make a show of myself in public by tearing my hair out by the roots at the thought of another obligatory shuffle towards another sheet of security glass with some other poor sod behind it wishing it was 5 pm on Christmas eve, I leave and decide to do it another time. Charge me a late payment fee you bastards - I don't care.

Marks & Spencers for a nice "ping" meal. Chaos would be an understatement, but I am determined to get my Gastropub Beef whatsit with wild rice. Grasping my dinner I wait in yet another long queue. I'm getting older by the minute.

Back to the Railway station. The queue is still the same, for crying out loud. But, lo and behold, no electronic voice. I think I may survive this one, at least I can shuffle on my own terms.

Twenty minutes later - "I'd like an open return for Monday morning to Chesterfield, leaving on the GNER train at 7.55am and changing at York please"., said I smiling through gritted teeth. "That's OK, the man said, but there are works on the line so you'll have to get a bus to Edinburgh first and pick the train up there" Edinburgh is at least 3 hours from here; I could feel a howl welling up inside me ready to burst out. "Oh, I replied, so, when will the train run again from here?". "Not till Tuesday, love". "Fine, I snarled, I'll go on Tuesday instead". "That will be £108.00 then." he smiled. The chiselling bastards.

On the way home I remembered a piece I had read that morning on line:-

Man urinated on cash till

US police are hunting a man who stood on a conveyor belt and urinated on a till at a supermarket.
Witnesses said the man was standing in line at the check out at a ShopRite store in Chester, New York state.
He suddenly climbed on the belt, took out his penis and urinated on the till, reports the Times Herald Record.
Police responded to a report of indecent exposure but were unable to find the man who fled before startled staff and shoppers could act.
ShopRite officials called it an unfortunate incident and said the register was cleaned and disinfected immediately.

I know why he did it.

Kats (snuggled up in a straight jacket):0(

The Lord really is EVERYWHERE

2006-11-21T10:35:00.000Z

This morning I have laughed until my sides ached.

The picture is of Angus the Terrier's anus. I apologise for the crude nature of the image but, it is claimed, that Angus (bless his little cotton socks) has the image of Jesus on his bum.

He has appeared on a website called Getbehindjesus.com, (pun intended or not, I wonder), and on a news piece.

Here are some quotes:-

The image of Christ on Angus looks exactly as the Bible pictures His resurrection…perfect!

"It's hard to understand the meaning of this appearance, but one thing is for sure, that dog's bum looks incredibly like Jesus."

"The Lord really is EVERYWHERE!"

"Dude, Angus really does have Jesus on his butt…that is so cool!"

"God works in mysterious ways...this is a reminder for us to always be faithful."
"Truly a holy event"

"If we can see the Lord's handiwork all over creation then I would say that dog's ass is a good example."

"People look for a sign from the God, but I don't think He would send us a message on a butt. Maybe God wants us to doubt the sign and then have faith? I don't know anything."

"That's one special ass!"

"I came to your site with sacrilege on my mind but left having been touched by a pet/Jesus union."

"Even Holy Mary would recognize her son there on the dog's thingy…"

Angus' personal Jesus was first discovered on the morning of Sunday, July 2, 2006. The family was waking up when Angus began to perform his morning ritual. He stretched forward then leaned back sticking his rump high in the air. At that moment, the morning sunlight hit Angus' rear end and low and behold…
"It's Jesus!" Angus' father exclaimed.
Ever since that sanctified day, the image of Jesus has graced Angus' buttocks.
It is believed that Angus may belong to Jessica White, a photgrapher and artist based in Los Angeles.

If this is a joke, OK. If it's serious, oh dear.

Hands up all those that can see Jesus on this dog's bum!

Kats:0) (going to lie down in a dark room)

UPDATE ON THE B. O. A. T

2006-11-12T09:28:00.000Z

BRING ON ANOTHER THOUSAND is what BOAT means, I have discovered over the last few months.

In July we decided to bite the bullet and take her out of the water to antifoul, and various other bits and pieces which we needed to convert this to a live aboard suitable for our needs and comfort.

So access to our home has been up an aluminium ladder, a bit of a novelty at first but that wears off very quickly. However the dog has taught herself to go up it, which will come in very handy when we send her out to work when we have thrown our last thousand into the floating money pit. Gofer on a building site might suit her newly acquired talents.

Anyway Thursday morning was our last chance to be lifted back in because of boats coming out for the winter, the crane going for a service, and lack of space in the Marina. It was Thursday or next April, and there is no way we were going to live up in the air for another few months. The pic above is of her being lifted off the cradle (please note the lovely shiny bottom).

Stress is an understatement when you have to stand and watch your world being hoisted, on what to me looked like two very flimsy canvas straps attached to a very large crane that creaks and groans and I swear wobbled as it took the weight.

Over she came and was lowered gently into the water and held there whilst being checked for leaks.

Mr. Kats jumped on board and opened the engine bays. He went white, his arms started going round like windmills and the cry of "Get it out, lift it up again!" was probably heard in the South of England. Three of the boatyard guys sauntered over and peered over the edge and declared it would take a week to sink with that leak and sauntered back to the crane to roll cigs and have a quiet snigger at Mr. Kats state of panic.

I have to say it was quite a sight watching Mr. Kats run to the Chandlery to get pipe, see him running back again, still white, arms still flailing. He's a very laid back bloke, and in 12 years it's the first time I've seen him rush, or panic about anything.

The leak was duly fixed and we were left to to float gently in the water.

It took a couple of days for various friends to stop, on the sight of Mr. Kats, from throwing their arms up in the air and shouting, "Get it out, get it out" before collapsing in a fit of giggles.

Me? I'm just enjoying being gently rocked to sleep at night, never regretting that momentous decision borne out of misfortune, to sell our house, our belongings and take on a totally different way of life.

West coast of Scotland, here we come, next spring.

Kats:0)

MY DOG IS A HOMICIDAL MANIAC

2006-10-28T13:05:00.000Z

Today I feel like killing my dog, but I'm hoping that when I've written this piece the urge will have left me.

When we got our boat and moved aboard, I decided to buy a bike. How lovely, I thought,(cue, the theme tune from Lassie playing in the background) to ride down the canal towpath with my faithful border collie Kali skipping joyously ahead, the two of us getting lots of healthy exercise and fresh air. Listening to the birds sing, stopping to feed the ducks and drinking in the quiet of the countryside.

Well, in between fags that is; me, not the dog. Mind you she is so intelligent I wouldn't be surprised to find her rolling me a cig and offering me a light. She has more sense than to smoke it though, unlike her owner.

Kali is trained to drop to the floor at the side of the road at the merest hint of a car coming, and this she does with unfailing consistency, and the same behaviour occurs when someone comes along on a bike. Wonderful, I never have to worry about her getting run over and very rarely, if ever, use a lead.

So when I got the bike I had a niggling worry that she would lie down and refuse to move. No such luck.

The first time I got on the bike she attacked it. She bites the front tyre and barks and growls, but only when it's moving. Have you any idea how embarrassing it is riding down the towpath while other like minded people are riding along with their dogs trotting along side while yours is doing her best to cripple you for life, never mind disturbing the peace of the countryside. She isn't afraid of it, it's just a great game.

Shouting, waving my arms, screaming, yelling "NO"(well it usually works) does no good at all apart from making me look like a tit, and as noisy and badly behaved as the dog. I did persist on several occasions hoping she would get the message, but when I get on my bike it's just too exciting for words.

I have never hit my dog. I trained her with patience and kindness and it pays off in spades. I believe there is no such thing as a badly behaved dog, that's down to the owner.

I will not give in, this problem must be solved. So, what to do? Aversion therapy. I decided to buy a water pistol and squirt her in the face every time she tried to bite the tyre. Water pistols only come in bright colours, mine in fluorescent pink and green. £3.99 from Woolworths, in case your interested. I've never used it. I cannot bring myself to go out in public as a middle aged woman brandishing a weapon that is pink and green and using it on a dog. Can you imagine it, I would be the talk of the towpath. I like to keep a low profile thank you. It keeps me out of trouble. Why can't they make them in nice muted grown up colours?

So I gave up for a while, until today. I had forgotten the humiliation and besides I want to ride my bike with the dog with me, and I will not be beaten.

As soon as I unchained it she started. Verbal chastisement from me and him indoors didn't work. So I rode round in circles while he kept the dog quiet and told her off every time she got the gleam in her eye and started to move. She calmed down. So like a fool I decided to carry on and off we went. Down the road, no problem, she's more concerned about the risk of a car coming. I relapsed into a foolish complacency and grinning like a Cheshire cat ploughed on to the tow path, determined to enjoy it.

She picked up a stick as usual and off she went ahead with it. Fantastic, I thought, she's got the message. (Theme from Lassie again). She kept the stick and ran along with the bike. I passed a bloke who said "you want to be careful she doesn't get that stick in the wheel". I smiled and thought "Piss off, do you think I'm that stupid". We sat down at the bridge while I had a cig and admired the scenery - Kali still playing with her stick, me throwing it occasionally.

Time for home. She's still got the stick and is barking at the wheel with it still in her mouth now. Halfway home, she pokes the stick into the spokes of the front wheel and I'm on my back with the bike on top of me, winded and hurting in various places. There I am, like a beached whale, unable to move because my leg and foot were caught up somewhere and the wheel of the bike is stuck in position because half a tree looks like it's growing out of it. A concerned woman appeared and had to extricate me from the bike. "Are you OK?" she says, "Yes" I reply, the liar that I am, thinking murderous thoughts about the dog and wondering if I'll ever walk again.

I wheeled the bike home with a dejected air and a slight limp. Apologies to the bloke, yes I am that stupid after all. Thanks to the woman, I think I would still be lying there tangled up if it wasn't for you.

Back to the drawing board - perhaps I'll bring out the fluorescent water pistol after all. Any ideas anyone?

Kats :0)

AN AMUSING PIECE OF BLASPHEMY

2006-10-19T09:54:00.000Z

LADIES PRAYER

My Vibro, which brings me heaven, Rabbit be thy name.

Till Kingdom come, thy makest me cum, on Earth with eyes on Heaven.

Give me this day, my daily thrill and forgive me my screams, as I forgive flat batteries.

Lead me not into temptation, but deliver me from frustration.

For thine is the rotation, the power and the buzzing for ever and ever.

No Men.

Kats :0)

SUPPLY AND DEMAND

2006-09-24T08:23:00.000Z

I have searched the internet high and low this morning for a suitable image to put on this post. To those of you I'm talking about I hope it makes you feel a little guilty, but it probably won't. To the rest of you I hope it pulls a few heart strings and maybe make you as angry as I am.

The face of Scotland's (and no doubt the rest of the country) Sex Trade business has taken a sinister turn.

I'm not against prostitution, its a service, and if you want to provide that service, as long as you are a free thinking adult thats OK, as is the taking advantage of that service, if you feel the need.

Scotland on Sunday can reveal that police are gathering shocking new evidence of children targeted by gangs overseas and brought into the UK, sold between brothels and taken to private flats and houses in Glasgow, where they are forced to work as prostitutes.

Rather than post the whole piece out of the newspaper I think the above paragraph just about says it all.

It makes a big song and dance about the trafficking in human beings, the ease with which Slovakian girls can be brought into the country illegally. You can have a 12 year old for as little as £10 it states with the maximum charge of about £30. If you want an adult Glaswegian prostitute it will cost at least £60.

So its brought down to the level of foreign goods being cheaper and therefore the demand is higher.

If a man wants to buy a jumper made abroad because it's cheaper he doesn't have a mental problem or a perversion, just a tight wallet.

The demand for child prostitutes is explained away by the fact that they are cheaper and not drug addicts like the adult Glaswegian prostitutes.

It's about supply and demand. If there wasn't a demand, it would not be supplied - it's that simple.

If you want to have sex with a child, it's nothing to do with the price.

So, isn't it about time we tackled the demand, for crying out loud?

Kats

AIR TRAFFIC CONTROLLERS

2006-09-23T07:22:00.000Z

Something to make you smile on the week-end: Allegedly true air traffic control stories.

Tower: "Delta 351, you have traffic at 10 o'clock, 6 miles!" Delta 351: "Give us another hint! We have digital watches!"

"TWA 2341, for noise abatement turn right 45 Degrees." "Centre, we are at 35,000 feet. How much noise can we make up here?" "Sir, have you ever heard the noise a 747 makes when it hits a 727?"

From an unknown aircraft waiting in a very long takeoff queue: "I'm f...ing bored!" Ground Traffic Control: "Last aircraft transmitting, identify yourself immediately!" Unknown aircraft: "I said I was f...ing bored, not f...ing stupid!"

Control tower to a 747: "United 329 heavy, your traffic is a Fokker, one o'clock, three miles, Eastbound." United 239: "Approach, I've always wanted to say this.... I've got the little Fokker in sight."

A DC-10 had come in a little hot and thus had an exceedingly long roll out after touching down. San Jose Tower noted: "American 751, make a hard right turn at the end of the runway, if you are able. If you are not able, take the Guadalupe exit off Highway 101, make a right at the lights and return to the airport."

A military pilot called for a priority landing because his single-engine jet fighter was running "a bit peaked." Air Traffic Control told the fighter pilot that he was number two, behind a B-52 that had one engine shut down. "Ah," the fighter pilot remarked, "The dreaded seven-engine approach."

Allegedly, a Pan Am 727 flight waiting for start clearance in Munich overheard the following: Lufthansa (in German): "Ground, what is our start clearance time?" Ground (in English): "If you want an answer you must speak in English." Lufthansa (in English): "I am a German, flying a German airplane, in Germany. Why must I speak English?" Unknown voice from another plane (in a beautiful British accent): "Because you lost the bloody war."

Tower: "Eastern 702, cleared for takeoff, contact Departure on frequency 124.7" Eastern 702: "Tower, Eastern 702 switching to Departure. By the way, after we lifted off we saw some kind of dead animal on the far end of the runway." Tower: "Continental 635, cleared for takeoff behind Eastern 702, contact Departure on frequency 124.7. Did you copy that report from Eastern 702?" Continental 635: "Continental 635, cleared for takeoff, roger; and yes, we copied Eastern... we've already notified our caterers."

One day the pilot of a Cherokee 180 was told by the tower to hold short of the active runway while a DC-8 landed. The DC-8 landed, rolled out, turned arouk past the Cherokee. Some quick-witted comedian in the DC-8 crew got on the radio and said, "What a cute little plane. Did you make it all by yourself?" The Cherokee pilot, not about to let the insult go by, came back with a real zinger: "I made it out of DC-8 parts. Another landing like yours and I'll have enough parts for another one."

Allegedly the German air controllers at Frankfurt Airport are renowned as a short-tempered lot. They, it is alleged, not only expect one to know one's gate parking location, but how to get there without any assistance from them. So it was with some amusement that we (a Pan Am 747) listened to the following exchange between Frankfurt ground control and a British Airways 747, call sign Speedbird 206. Speedbird 206: "Frankfurt, Speedbird 206 clear of active runway." Ground: "Speedbird 206. Taxi to gate Alpha One-Seven." The BA 747 pulled onto the main taxiway and slowed to a stop. Ground: "Speedbird, do you not know where you are going?" Speedbird 206: "Stand by, Ground, I'm looking up our gate location now." Ground (with quite arrogant impatience): "Speedbird 206, have you not been to Frankfurt before?" Speedbird 206 (coolly): "Yes, twice in 1944, but it was dark,...... and I didn't land."

Allegedly, while taxiing at London's Gatwick Airport, the crew of a US Air flight departing for Ft. Lauderdale made a wrong turn and came nose to nose with a United 727. An irate female ground controller lashed out at the US Air crew, screaming: "US Air 2771, where the hell are you going?! I told you to turn right onto Charlie taxiway! You turned right on Delta! Stop right there. I know it's difficult for you to tell the difference between C and D, but get it right!" Continuing her rage to the embarrassed crew, she was now shouting hysterically: "God! Now you've screwed everything up! It'll take forever to sort this out! You stay right there and don't move till I tell you to! You can expect progressive taxi instructions in about half an hour and I want you to go exactly where I tell you, when I tell you, and how I tell you! You got that, US Air 2771?" US Air 2771: "Yes, ma'am," the humbled crew responded. Naturally, the ground control communications frequency fell terribly silent after the verbal bashing of US Air 2771. Nobody wanted to chance engaging the irate ground controller in her current state of mind. Tension in every cockpit out around Gatwick was definitely running high. Just then an unknown pilot broke the silence and keyed his microphone, asking: "Wasn't I married to you once?"

Kats

EGGS (ON YER FACE) BENEDICT

2006-09-16T11:51:00.000Z

Never let it be said that I would miss a chance for a good old poke at (His holiness, scoff) The Pope.

“The emperor comes to speak about the issue of jihad, holy war,” the Pope said.
“He said, I quote, ‘Show me just what Muhammad brought that was new, and there you will find things only evil and inhuman, such as his command to spread by the sword the faith he preached’.”

Well Mr. Benedict - before spouting off about another religion and the associated violence, I would have thought your own history of working for the Nazis would make you think twice before opening that "Holier than thou" gob.

Christianity has done more of it's share of violently forcing it's doctrine down people's throats in the past and currently in the present.

These are not really religious wars that are going on, they are wars between civilisations which is far more scary.

Kats

IF AT FIRST YOU DON'T SUCCEED...............

2006-09-06T07:46:00.000Z

So, Ian Huntley has tried to commit suicide.

Apparently such is the hatred for him by fellow prisoners, they pooled all their drugs to help him out. It's nice to know that the incarcerated have a sense of teamwork for a good cause.

Also I read that this is his third attempt that has been thwarted.

We should just let low life like this get on with it and save the tax payer money.

Incidentally, Maxine Carr was last seen a year ago living just outside Thurso with two body guards and sporting a blonde wig. She apparently had been moved from Wick, after being sussed by the locals. I would like to know however, what Wazzock in the Home office decided you could hide someone in the far North of Scotland in such a close knit community. How much is that costing us?

So Ian if at first you don't succeed, try again, and give us all a break. Please try to make a better job of it though.

Kats

AND THIS ONE .................

2006-08-19T16:51:00.000Z

LET THE PICTURE DO THE TALKING

2006-08-19T16:48:00.000Z

OH "CUM" ALL YE FAITHFULL

2006-08-07T09:15:00.000Z

Word in the Holy Ether is that the Christian Youth Magazine has devoted it's August issue entirely to sex.

Should we, shouldn't we, are we allowed to. Can we flirt (for christs sake!). What does God say, what will he say and/or do If I fall by the wayside.

It's bad enough to be a youth or youthess, awash on a sea of raging hormones without bringing God into the equation for crying out loud. These Christian Youths and youthesses must be practicing mental self flagellation on a hourly basis.

So the church has found a way to manipulate those hormones to rein in a larger flock.

Read this:

Saunders is adamant that Christians should acknowledge sex as a positive experience. "Christians are perceived as a bunch of puritanical sexual killjoys. When in fact we should be known as the pro-sex lobby. God is pro-sex, after all he invented it. Christians can have healthy fulfilling sex lives that are just as exciting and adventurous as everyone else's. The difference is Christians can talk about it's higher value - as a God ordained gift, and we must never lose sight of that truth, nor allow others to think we believe differently.

When boiled down to basics this is just a marketing campaign equivalent to putting cartoon characters on cereal packets to influence toddlers and increase the market.

Or perhaps us poor lost souls down here in Soddom and Gomorrah will just have to look on in envy of the gift from God, or in my case look down cynically sniggering.

Kats

CALAMITOUS KALI

2006-08-05T16:19:00.000Z

As I was going about my business this morning, as you do. I heard a loud yelp from our Border collie - Kali.

I looked up into the saloon from the galley and there she stood looking down at me with copious amounts of blood wending it's way across the floor. She had ripped a claw right out and it was hanging off. (Makes you wince, don't it?).

So, off to the vets for a very fetching flourescent pink bandage with smiley faces on it and 2 injections - anitbiotics and pain killer.

So here she is above some hours later milking it for everything she can get, and getting it!

Kats

EVERYTHING YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO KNOW ABOUT.....

2006-08-02T20:16:00.000Z

ARMAGEDDON, BUT WERE AFRAID TO ASK.

Some cheery little soul out there in the ether has a website dedicated to the analysis of a possible, nay, inevitable World War III.

Worryingly some of the text regarding the scenarios, which were actually written some decades ago, leading up to the unmentionable are a little too close to home right now for me.

Perhaps you middle-aged people out there remember the "inevitability" of nuclear war, during the cold war.

I had a large poster entitled "What to do in the event of a Nuclear Attack". There were numbered instructions, which included things like, No. 1 Board up the Windows. No.2 Hang wet blankets over doors or windows, to minimise radiation. It carried on with many, many ridiculous advised precautions like putting matresses over and around the kitchen table and crawling inside to avoid the blast. Unfortunately,it did reflect the official government advice, so I suppose that some believed matttresses and wet blankets would protect against being fried, and if not fried, then a long lingering death from radiation poisoning. Some of us weren't that gullible though. Freinds and visitors would stand and read with a serious concentrated look until the last instruction which was about Number 24 declared:

"Place your head firmly between your legs, and kiss your ass goodbye".

Part of the page written by this doom monger is dedicated to a World War III time line as follows, but at least he doesn't tell me to hide under the table to miraculously survive.

World War 3 Timeline

These are, I believe, the elements of the planned Third World War:

Prelude - The events leading up to the start of World War Three, including Sept 11, 2001.

Act 1 - The Middle East. Widespread conflict to bring the entire region into the flames of war, possibly triggered by Iran or militants in Pakistan using North Korean supplied nuclear arms. The first Scene in this Act is the US Invasion of Iraq on March 20, 2003.

Act 2 - Israel at War -- Against her Arab neighbors, possibly Palestine. A Palestinian State will be established, so that all Israelis will be fully separated from Palestinians (listen out for mention of a 7-year treaty to be confirmed by a World Leader - probably Bush), only for Israel to viciously attack Palestine shortly thereafter.

Act 3 - Far East -- "Hair-raising nuclear confrontation that threatens mankind's existence" - Peter Lemesurier, author of The Armageddon Script, p. 223, written in 1981. Includes China invading Taiwan and a nuclear eruption on the Korean Peninsula.

Act 4 - Erosion of Confidence in 'The System' so severe citizens will be panicked into giving up liberties and Constitutional form of government. The plan calls for the dissolution of the US Constitution, triggered by a significant enough 'terrorist' attack. The ultimate intent is to introduce a global government and one-world religion.

Act 5 - The collapse of the US, and other Western economies and morals.

Act 6 - Significant population reduction using natural and man-made disasters.

Curtain. Who can tell how this war will end?

CURTAIN?????? I think you mean CURTAINS.

Cheer me up some more why don't you.

Kats

NAIL HIS EFFING FEET TO THE FLOOR

2006-08-01T21:53:00.000Z

Just read this in a Reuters Report:-

WASHINGTON (Reuters) - President Bush said on Tuesday he had gained four pounds (2 kg) because of "too many birthday cakes," but said he was feeling fine after his annual physical.
Bush, who turned 60 on July 6, was found by doctors at the National Naval Medical Center in Bethesda to be in the superior category of fitness for a man his age.
"I'm doing fine. My health is fine. I probably ate too many birthday cakes," Bush said.

This evil little excuse for a human being should have his feet nailed to the floor and be force fed birthday cakes until he expands beyond reason and explodes. It should be a televised event held in the middle of Beirut, during the Israeli bombing campaign and Tony Blair should be the one made to do it.

So there!

Kats (in anger)

POND LIFE - WINDY MILLER

2006-07-18T10:26:00.000Z

Windy Miller I hear you ask, why is he called that? Well it’s something to do with bread, as you will see.

Windy appeared at week-ends and sometimes during the day on a very small but attractive boat, which I later found out, is named after his Grandfather’s nickname for his Grandmother, who brought him up after his Mother abandoned him. Every time you came within calling distance of his boat he waved and shouted Hello, I duly raised my hand and reciprocated, as you always do around boats unlike our fellow landlubbers who will pass you by if you’re choking, blue in the face and gasping for breath in a horizontal position on the pavement. If you’re very lucky you might get a kick in the ribs, or nudged by the wheel of a pushchair which might give you the impetus to draw breath and clear the blockage and live to fight another day in that melee everyone is so fond of calling a civilised society. Off I go again, shut up and stick to the story Kats.

As time has passed Windy has become a friend, a friend in need, but that should read needy, and a willing helper if we are stuck for an extra pair of hands. BUT Windy is a disaster on legs, if he was on a ship in the 1800’s he would have been called a jinx and made to walk the plank in short order and would now be a neighbour of Davey in his Locker.

Luckily for the rest of us, his Bad luck and disasters are a personal thing and despite his requests and well meaning invitations for a trip on his boat, no-one in this Marina will go outside swimming distance of land with him, and with good reason.

After the nodding of the head and the waving, one Sunday I passed by his boat and a bag of Sunblest Griddle Scones were pressed into my hand with the claim that he was going back to his house and they would go to waste. Very nice with butter and strawberry jam by the way. On our next encounter it was a loaf of bread, plus the scones, plus some cake. So, I then felt obliged to say that anytime he was passing our boat he was welcome to a cuppa. When he arrived for the cuppa the next day, he came with a very nice apple pie, which was shared amongst ourselves and the Disillusioned Social Worker in the Penthouse (see the cast list), who had decided to come down to earth and grace us with his presence.

So, our ongoing relationship with Windy Miller began, and it was a bit like being run over by a very large steam train in the beginning. Windy has a child like enthusiasm for everything and everybody, and even though he’s in his late 30’s always rushes in where fools fear to tread and always reaps the consequences. He’s definitely jinxed though.

Once in the middle of Loch Ness a repair on his boat peeled back like the proverbial bannana. He bailed and bailed till he was blue in the face and managed to limp into the marina whereupon he promptly sank.

Next, after repairs and tears, off he went again, determined to go out on his hard earned boat and bloodywell enjoy himself whether it killed him or not. This time he encountered a force nine on the middle of the Loch, limped to Fort Augustus and promptly sank it again, but more frantic bailing and help from others brought the boat back up like a cork.

Never to be beaten, with great excitment he announced that he was off for a trip to Fort Augustus yet again. Saturday morning came, he put his two very large flags up on the back of his cruiser and disappeared into the distance with a jaunty and confident wave. Sunday arrived and a phone call informed us that his engine had failed in the middle of Loch Ness, he had a tow to Urquart Bay. Hours later after him indoors had tinkered with the engine, and declared that life was extinct, a very kind hire boat towed him in.

Some days later a second hand engine was sourced, Windy's smile returned. Then this engine died.

He wants to buy a boat large enough to live on. He's lived in his bedsit for 3 years and never spoken to anyone and is bowled over by the fact that people here speak and help each other. The bank refused to lend him the money and he sank into a feeling of no hope.

Windy announced he was going to move onto his cruiser so he can save up for his dream live aboard. He lives in a space that's no bigger than a cubicle in a public toilet. He still smiles and is filled with child like optimism. Now his boat is too far below the waterline because of his belongings and he is going through the process of downsizing because his new engine won't pull the weight he has on board.

Today he announced he's got it up 3 more inches but has got a quarter of a ton more to remove.

He has my utmost admiration for following his dream no matter what the inconvenience to himself. He may be cramped, he may be sinking, but as he says his quality of life now is worth the sacrifice.

I just wish he'd take that bloody plastic orange nodding cat off his bow.

Kats

MANY A TRUE WORD SPOKEN IN JEST

2006-05-29T13:56:00.000Z

Thankyou Private Eye

BLAH BLAH BLAH

2006-05-02T15:13:00.000Z

I’m on a train today on my way to the Midlands – but that is another long story that I’m not going to bore you with.

I’m frustrated – the one thing I miss is having Access to the internet whenever I please.
I heard an ugly rumour that GNER had a Wifi connection on the train so, when I got on it this morning out came the laptop with exited anticipation.. Unfortunately an ugly rumour is all it was. So I sit here hurtling South incommunicardo yet again and smarting with disappointment.

I’m hoping that when I get to a more built up area I might pick up someone’s unsecured network, and serve them right. I’m actually picking up dozens as I go but no signal strength. I need someone who lives on a station platform, but they’re not likely to be hooked up to the ether, more likely just hooked.

So you computer boffins out there – how do I get internet services on a boat, without taking out a mortgage (those days are surely gone) and no, the Marina doesn’t have Wifi – they did, but removed it (aarrrgh). No I do not wish to go and sit in some internet coffee shop.

The other thing that’s missing from my life is getting the newspapers online every morning which denies me my off the cuff rants and raves. Somehow going out and buying one does not trigger the same spontaneity, but I’m really missing having a shot at the Pope (bless him), that Lunatic in the Whitehouse whose name I will no longer speak as I value my nice steady blood pressure reading. And last but not least our Tone of the Blair Witch Party,( whose wife seems to have the hots for the Pope) why is he still there for crying out loud??????? I’m told I’m much more laid back as a result of it. That’s an ugly rumour too, it’s the gentle rocking of the boat.

So, I get onto the blog at work and do my writing in word at home – copy, paste, copy, paste – I’m losing the will to live. Where has Blogger for Word gone? I can’t find it.

I’m worried about Colcam who claims to have been in the toilet for 2 weeks and then posts a picture of a fluffy thing who he claims is a mouse, but it’s spooky, I can’t see it’s eyes. How come a fellow ranter and hater of injustice is suddenly posting pictures of fluffy toys.

Andromeda is posting about Halloween in April – I thought it was in October – perhaps the time frame is different in the Labrynth when you’re threading it.

Lightening is changing the words of old Elvis songs and lamenting old age and relationships – get a grip David. Very, very funny though in an “ouch” sort of way.

Gavin Corder is still thanking whoever is up there that he’s English. Nationalism I fear is the thin end of the wedge. Just a wind up Gavin, but no doubt if you read this I’ll get a lecture.

The Door Steward left his job as a bouncer in a night club and hooked up with his lost love and went all fuzzy. Now he’s talking about wearing stab vests in the next nightclub again! Does this mean he’s mislaid his love again?

The Bearded One aka (Kim Ayres) is still his lovely cuddly self but is beating himself up over giving too much attention to his blog and not enough to his book. Kim it’s still writing whatever you are doing.

Did I miss something?

Maybe a shift in the Earth’s magnetic field maybe?

Kats

POND LIFE WITH THE MOLES

2006-04-26T10:18:00.000Z

You’ve read the cast list …………………………………………….

So, we’ll start with the endlessly fascinating Mr. and Mrs. Mole, who, quite literally live in a hole and not a very large one at that.

Mr. and Mrs. Mole live close by. They live in a very small yacht about 26 feet long of which about half is an aft deck. So, by my calculation they live together in a space which is about 12 feet long and probably no more that about 6 feet wide. Nothing wrong with that. The puzzling part is that slung over the top of their yacht is a very large blue tarpaulin secured to the mast by duct tape and everywhere any light could possibly get in duct tape is in evidence. On the starboard side is the biggest television aerial you have ever seen.

So, the only thing you can see of this, very nice (I think) yacht is a very tall mast, the telly aerial, and a blue tarpaulin.

Every morning a small portion of the blue tarpaulin in pulled back and Mr. Mole emerges, always in the same clothes, unless he buys three or four of everything. But there again there is probably only room for one jumper, one pair of trousers and a pair of boots in his part of the yacht. In his hand are two 1 litre Perthshire mountain spring water bottles which he fills at the water tap on the pontoon. Back he goes, the flap goes down and that’s it, for a few more hours. He always says a cheery good morning if you meet him and seems an affable sort of chap, just pale from the lack of light, but there is something manic in his eyes and while they swivel around, you get the uneasy feeling that he’s waiting for some unseen entity to tap him on the shoulder and this time he’s going to give it what for once and for all. Perhaps it’s Mrs. Mole.

Last week our boat was moved to a better part of the Marina, back end on to the pontoon and nearer the toilet (so my eyes are now back in their sockets). So we were towed and told to tie up to the boat to the left of us as the one to the right was due to depart upon its travels. A woman suddenly appeared, with a Mr. Mole manic gleam in her eyes and pasty face, and said in a rather belligerent manner “You can’t tie that boat up here!”. To which him indoors replied “Well, this is where we’ve been instructed to tie it up and that’s that.”

To which she replied “Well we’re just fed up of being crunched between boats and it’s keeping me awake” and off she went.

Mrs. Mole had appeared and spoken.

Mrs. Mole’s routine never varies either.

After Mr. Mole and burrowed his way to the light for his water about an hour later Mrs. Mole surfaces, always in a grey sweatshirt and navy trousers, her grey shoulder length a well groomed and hanging loose. The two Perthshire Mountain Spring water bottles under her arm, fills them up and descends back into the tarpaulin burrow. She then appears again in the same attire clutching a toothbrush and toothpaste and heads for the toilet/shower block. However the strange thing is that one day I happened to feel a need and followed shortly after but she wasn’t in there anywhere. So the first mystery is where the hell does she go with her tooth implements – perhaps there’s an underground trapdoor in communal bathroom that I haven't spotted, for people who are averse to the rigours of daylight.

So basically that’s all they do – rush to the tap and descend back into that strange netherworld with B & Qs best tarpaulin for sky, over and over again, and they’ve been doing it for 3 years.

Oh my God, perhaps they’re vampires.

POND LIFE - THE CAST

2006-04-20T10:29:00.000Z

By pond life I mean life on the pond, not the derogatory term lower than pond life.

Several people live here – it’s not what you’d call a marina, more a place where boats are stored, in and out of the water, work goes on and then people move on – a transitory place for some and not others. It’s possible to get into a rut in a boat yard, I’ve discovered.

The folks here mainly keep themselves to themselves. Why? Because everyone is obsessed by their boat. There is always a piece of wood to oil, a hull to be antifouled, a bilge to pump, and besides the world looks so much better from your own deck.

I’m an avid people watcher, not judgemental, just interested and at times amused. I don’t like everybody I meet; if I professed to I’d be a hypocrite. When I do come across someone who gives me a “bad” feeling I usually just mentally shrug my shoulders and give them a wide berth.

People’s names have been changed to suit their circumstances, my amusement and for the other obvious reason.

Conjecture can be a dangerous thing, but oh it can be so much fun.

Anyway here is the cast list so far.

Mr. and Mrs. Mole

Mr. Bondi Beach with Nazi Connections

The Disillusioned Social Worker in the Penthouse

The Amphibious Family

The old Salty Dog

The Lifebuoys

The Wing Commander

All of these people I have met, some briefly, some not so briefly. I thought I was the only sane one in the asylum, but I have company.

Are you curious yet?

Kats :0)

PROGRESS - I THINK!

2006-04-10T10:45:00.000Z

Life just gets in the way and blogging is always last in the queue because you have to sit down and make an effort, and my efforts have been concentrated into shoehorning our belongings into a boat, surviving for the first week with no water, no toilet and no power apart from the light given off by a lead lamp attached to shore power.

I suppose I should go back to the beginning and bore you all with the gory details of the transition from shore to water. Pin back your lugholes then while I moan for Scotland.

After arriving back from the Midlands we went to stay on the west coast with friends – about one and a half hours car ride each way to work and to the boat, which needed to be recomissioned, surveyed and dropped into the water, but as is life, nothing is ever as simple as you think its going to be, what I cannot understand is why, as a so called intelligent species we keep deluding ourselves. After lots of driving back and forth over long periods of the day and getting nowhere fast, the decision was made to move aboard. She was in the water, so what the hell.

And hell indeed is what it was for a few days. Well, you comfort loving city dwellers out there would probably call it hell, bloody inconvenient would be my take on it. Talking of convenience or rather conveniences, the one we had to use was across another boat (the one we were attached to) round a pontoon, punch in a numerical code into a key pad and behold luxurious toilets and showers,

I am no longer a sweet young thing with taught muscles inside and out (but I would thank God, if he existed, that I don’t have a prostate). When I wake up in the morning I need to go, not in five minutes time, NOW. So picture this, a middle aged woman, still in her jim jams, very long hair standing on end, eyes bulging with the effort of “holding her water” leaping over a cruiser, landing on a large wooden trawler, running around it’s deck, jumping on to the pontoon and going like the clappers with eyes now rolling back in their sockets with the effort, chanting a four digit code and saying “hash” as if her life depended on it. Oh the joy and relief when finally the hash key is pressed and like Aladdin’s cave the door to the ablutions swings open. The saunter back, with a smug and satisfied feeling though is almost worth it. Well, no it isn’t actually.

Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink. Except if you go to the tap at the end of the pontoon and fill your bottles – enough said, you get the picture, and the lead lamp speaks for itself.

Week two is now at an end and we have water coming out of the taps – what a novelty. The lights come on and the toilet macerates like a good un. What joy can come from the simple things in life.

I found more storage space in the forward berth, you’d have thought I had won the lottery, instead of a place to store the spare linen. Little things please little minds, but somehow it’s far more satisfying and fulfilling than that self destructive career ladder.

So, you’ve probably gathered, this isn’t really a moan but a celebration of a totally different way of life and despite the inconveniences I know it will be worth it in the long run.

So now it’s re-wiring for 240 volts, getting the fly bridge back on and connected and converting the generator to 240 volts, getting the engines singing and away we go. Sounds a doddle – convert that to around 8 weeks more work.

We’ve nicknamed our impatience “Marina Fever” as opposed to Cabin Fever – it’s very nice here, but, we want to wander at will.

The most interesting part of this journey so far however are the people that also live in this Marina. .

So, to be continued very soon.

Kats :0).

JUST IN CASE YOU ARE WONDERING.........

2006-03-25T09:01:00.000Z

.................Where I may be - not on a bloody boat yet, that's for sure.

I am in the Midlands, homeless, waiting. Him indoors has been dashing around this fair land in a transit van containing most of our possessions.

Anyway the boat landed in Southampton on Monday, cleared customs and arrived in Scotland yesterday afternoon. She is to be surveyed on Monday, have her flybridge re-fitted and then dropped into the water. Then Bob's yer uncle I should be able to move on to it. However we have sustained some transit damage - nothing to get bothered about except that some thieving b******d has stolen one of the safety rails off one side. Insurance will cover it - I hope.

I am travelling back on Monday with the dog (Kali the Collie) whom I think will breathe a sigh of relief to get out of this noisy asphalt jungle.

Further updates when I get back up the motorway.

Have a good week-end all.

Kats :0)

WEIRD SCIENCE

2006-03-04T18:34:00.000Z

These are from test papers and essays submitted to science and health teachers by junior high, high school, and college students around the world. The definition of a Vacuum is very insightful......Enjoy your week-end

When you breathe, you inspire. When you do not breathe you expire.

H20 is hot water, and C02 is cold water.

To collect fumes of sulphur, hold a deacon over a flame in a test tube.

When you smell odourless gas, it is probably carbon monoxide.

Nitrogen is not found in Ireland, because it is not found in a free state.

Water is composed of two gins, Oxygin and Hydrogin. Oxygin is pure gin. Hydrogin is gin and water.

Three kinds of blood vessels are arteries, vanes and caterpillars.

Blood flows down one leg, then up the other.

Respiration is composed of two acts, first inspiration, and then expectoration.

The moon is a planet just like the earth, only it is even deader.

Artificial insemination is when the farmer does it to the cow instead of the bull.

Dew is formed on leaves when the sun shines down on them and makes them perspire.

A super saturated solution is one that holds more than it can hold.

Mushrooms always grow in damp places and so they look like umbrellas.

The body consists of three parts - the brainium, the borax, and the abominable cavity. The brainium contains the brain, the borax contains the heart and lungs, and the abominable cavity contains the bowels, of which there are five - a, e i, o and u.

The pistol of a flower is its only protection against insects.

The alimentary canal is located in the Northern part of Indiana.

The skeleton is what is left after the insides have been taken out and the outsides have been taken off. The purpose of the skeleton is something to hitch meat to.

A permanent set of teeth consists of eight canines, eight cuspids, two molars, and eight cuspidors.

The tides are a fight between the earth and the moon. All water tends towards the moon, because there is no water on the moon and nature abhors a vacuum. I forget where the sun joins in this fight.

A fossil is an extinct animal. The older it is the more extinct it is.

Many women believe that an alcoholic binge will have no ill effects on the unborn fetus, but that is a large misconception.

Equator: A managerie lion running around the Earth through Africa.

Germinate: To become a naturalised German.

Liter: A nest of young puppies.

Magnet: Something you find crawling all over your dead cat.

Momentum: What you give a person when they are going away.

Planet: A body of earth surrounded by sky.

Rhubarb: A kind of celery gone bloodshot.

Vacuum: A large empty space where the Pope lives.

Before giving a blood transfusion, find out if the blood is affirmative or negative.

To remove dust from the eye, pull the eye down over the nose.

For a nosebleed: Put the nose much lower than the body until the heart stops

For drowning: Climb on top of the person and move up and down to make artificial perspiration.

For fainting: Rub the persons chest, or if a lady, rub her arm above the hand instead. Or put the head between the knees of the nearest medical doctor.

For dog bite: Put the dog away for several days. If he has not recovered, then kill it.

For Asphyxiation: Apply artificial respiration until the patient is dead.

To prevent contraception: wear a condominium.

For head cold: use an agonizer to spray the nose until it drops in your throat.

To keep milk from turning sour: Keep it in the cow.

Kats :0)

DESERT ISLAND DISCS

2006-03-03T11:51:00.000Z

I have not blogged for what seems like an age.

My house is sold and completion is in two weeks time, cupboards are still groaning under the weight of "stuff".

I feel like I'm living Desert Island Discs and Sue Lawley will appear out of a dark recess and say, "Now that's number 2 of the 10 things you can take, what will be your luxury item?"

"But, But, But" I wail, "It's all a luxury item"

I think my luxury item will be my sanity....please. I certainly won't be picking the bible as most do on that programme, well I might if a box of matches was provided with it and I needed to keep a camp fire going.

Well the two pictures are of the boat we have half bought. She is in the middle of the Atlantic aboard a ship bound for Amsterdam at the moment, having left Jacksonville in Florida last Saturday. She should arrive in Amsterdam on 12th March, heaved onto another ship to land in Southampton any time within 14 days after that. So I think sleeping in the car is a distinct possibility, never mind it was only minus 12 last night. (groan).

Said boat is a Bayliner 3270. 38feet long, 11.6ft wide, twin diesel engines. King sized bed in aft berth, twins in the pointy end, wet room, fully equipped galley, cooker, fridge, microwave and not enough room to swing a cat. A very large saloon surrounded by teak and lots of glass. All the electronic gizmos a man could possibly want. More bang for your bucks and quality that you could ever find in this country, and believe me we have scoured the British isles and anything to come near it would have cost us an extra Â£15,000 more.

So, after many sleepless nights wondering why we were giving a load of money to a man in Florida we have never met to buy a boat we've only seen in photos the Eurika moment arrived.

We found a nice man up here with the same model boat, bought from the same faceless person in Florida. Hot footed to the marina after having made his acquaintancee on the phone to view the clone of my future home.

Chuffed would be an understatement, relief does not come near.

So, thats the story so far. I promise to blog more often (if you can stand it) I must go I've got possessions to throw away.

Kats 0:)

SMOKE GETS IN YOUR EYES

2006-02-12T13:34:00.001Z

Yes, smoking is bad for you. Yes it's not a nice habit. Yes, it must be a pain in the ass for non-smokers to have to breathe it in. Yes, I agree small children and innocent animals should not be subjected to noxious fumes.

Yes I am a smoker and hell, yes I enjoy it, as is my right and choice.

However ...........

No, I don't smoke in rooms with non-smokers. No I don't smoke in non-smokers cars. No, I would not dream of lighting up in a non-smokers house unless I had permission, and even then I feel guilty and never smoke all of it.

BUT

If you come to my house you will have to stand in the garden while I smoke. If you come in my car you'll have to either bring your own oxygen tank and a mask or hang your head out of the window. If it's freezing bloody cold outside though you'll just have to choke or find alternative transport.

From 26th March, in Scotland, smoking will be banned in public places. Fair enough if that is what the majority want.

But, you bunch of wazzocks, make your minds up about where I cannot light up. Then I can avoid them like the plague.

The story so far is this,

You can be arrested for smoking in a pub, but once you're in the back of a police car you can light up. Particularly if you are an informant. Mind you I think many policemen should be exposed to noxious fumes, if only to hide the stench of their own corruption.

You may not smoke inside a Caledonian Macbrane Ferry to the Islands, but you can smoke on the Rosyth to Zeebrugge Ferry. Something to do with the 3 mile limit maybe? However having been on the Cally Macbrane Ferries many times in the past, I do not recommend lighting your fag on deck halfway across the Minch unless you want scorched eyeballs and a brand new hairdo.

Company cars are exempt, but it is banned in vans and tractors. Imagine being a farmer and having to be out all day ploughing and you can't have a fag in your own tractor.

Police Interview rooms are exempt as they are not classed as public places. So the police just interview each other do they, in their interview rooms?

There is to be a ruling that you will be requested to refrain from smoking in your own home if being visited by a member of a public body such as social workers, home helps, housing officers etc. If by some misfortune I need to be visited they can talk to me through my window, with me on the inside and I don't care if'its minus 5 on a February morning and throwing down a blizzard.

It is also banned in public parks. Oh please, are you frightened of the trees getting a cough or something?

To those non-smokers reading this and curling their lips up in distaste at my habit, I have one question to ask you.

Do you drive a car? Yes? Well I never. Have you thought how much pollution and noxious fumes you are pushing into the atmosphere. And for those non-smoking mothers out there, that throw their hands up in horror when someone lights a fag within 200 hundred yards of their child, have you thought of the lethal gases you are subjecting your child to when you push them down the street in a buggy which is the same height as the exhaust pipes on those cars going past you one after the other. Just because you can't see it doesn't mean it's not there you know. You know there is electricity, you know you cannot see it but you don't go and stick your finger in the the plughole do you?

So to all those non-smokers who make such a fuss, check out the rest of your lifestyle before you criticize mine.

To the smokers in Scotland. If your out and about and gagging for some nicotine, get your self arrested and make a good job of it, so you can carry on with that packet of 20 in the interview room.

I bet no-one will have the guts to ban it in one particular public place - prisons - no-one will want the nice little criminals to suffer will they?

I would also like to say, that I don't drink but I don't object to alcohol, though I can't stand falling over drunk people. Smoking does not terrorise families, cause people to beat each other and innocent people up or cause drivers to maim and kill people. If I go out though I have to put up with loud mouthed drunks, walk around their great piles of steaming vomit in the street and foot some of the tax bill for the damage and misery they cause. Where is my choice in that?

Kats

COULDN'T RESIST THIS ONE EITHER

2006-02-10T22:26:00.000Z

PALESTINIAN ELECTION SHOCK

2006-02-10T22:24:00.000Z

Private Eye hits the nail on the head once again.

Don't you just want to smack his smug little face?

AND ANOTHER THING ..........................

2006-02-05T08:42:00.000Z

Any individual, group, religious or otherwise, who don't have the ability to laugh at themselves occasionally or see the funny side of life's triumphs and tribulations, whether their own or other's, and then try to force their dogma on the rest of us are to be avoided at all costs, as the word tolerance and it's meaning has escaped them.

Whew! Got that off my chest!

Kats :0)

VE HAF VAYS OF BREAKING DOWN ZE COMMUNICATION BARRIER

2006-02-03T22:12:00.000Z

Moving forward………

The European Union(EU) has just announced an agreement whereby English will be the official language of the EU rather than German, which was the other possibility.

As part of the negotiations, the British Government conceded that English spelling had some room for improvement and has accepted a 5-year phase-in plan that would become known as "Euro-English".

In the first year, "s" will replace the soft "c". Sertainly, this will make the sivil servants jump with joy.

The hard "c" will be dropped in favour of "k". This should klear up konfusion, and keyboards kan have one less letter.

There will be growing publik enthusiasm in the sekond year when the troublesome "ph" will be replaced with "f".

This will make words like fotograf 20% shorter.

In the 3rd year, publik akseptanse of the new spelling kan be expekted to reach the stage where more komplikat ed changes are possible.

Governments will enkourage the removal of double letters which have always ben a deterent to akurate speling.

Also, al wil agre that the horibl mes of the silent "e" in the languag is disgrasful and it should go away.

By the 4th yer people wil be reseptiv to steps such as replasing "th" with "z" and "w" with "v".

During ze fifz yer, ze unesesary "o" kan be dropd from vords kontaining "ou" and after ziz fifz yer, ve vil hav a reil sensi bl rite n styl.

Zer vil be no mor trubl or difikultis and evrivun vil find it ezi tu understand ech oza.

Ze drem of a united urop vil finali kum tru.Und efter ze fifz yer, ve vil al be speking German like zey vunted in ze forst plas.

ALL TOGETHER NOW!

2006-02-01T07:32:00.000Z

Courtesy of Private Eye - don't you just love it?

BURNING GATS ON THE TYNE

2006-02-01T06:36:00.000Z

It seems that Hindus and Sikhs in Britain are calling for the right to have traditional open air funeral pyres to send their dear departed to be reincarnated.

It is proposed that the first burning gat will be in Newcastle on the Tyne.

Burning Gats by the Ganges are there because the river is considered Holy. The usual procedure, at Benares anyway, is to burn said relative on a pile of sandlewood (well, it'll smell nicer in plantations than those bloody pine trees everywhere), dowse the flames with the holy water from the river and toss the remains of auntie Edna in the river. Singed human remains floating in rivers where this takes place is the norm.

You shall have a fishy on a little dishy takes on a whole new meaning.

HINDUS and Sikhs in Britain should have the right to cremate their dead on funeral pyres at open-air ceremonies, a race relations group said yesterday.
The Anglo-Asian Friendship Society said that a ban on the use of funeral pyres, dating back to 1930, unfairly penalised followers of both religions. It has approached a local authority to seek land for open-air cremations and is threatening to take the case to the European Court of Human Rights.
The charity, which has 2,000 members, said that its proposal for pyres located at sites across the country, beginning with one near Newcastle upon Tyne, would meet all planning and environmental requirements.
Davendar Ghai, the society’s president, said that open-air cremations were considered essential to the process of reincarnation. “Reincarnation is a foundation of the faith and the older generation fully believe that, without these essential last rites, the soul languishes in restless torment,” he said.
Mr Ghai said that many Hindus and Sikhs were offended by having no alternative but to use the gas-powered furnaces of a conventional crematorium.
In a traditional Hindu funeral, the appropriate disposal of the ashes is vital. They are cooled and carefully collected so that there is no possibility of intermingling with other ashes.
Mr Ghai said that many relatives chose the expensive option of taking the remains to India to avoid risking the “catastrophic consequences for the departed soul” of a failure to observe all the rituals.
Lawyers working for the society, which is based in Gosforth, near Newcastle, have prepared a case to be heard under the 1988 Human Rights Act.

I prided myself on being tolerant towards a multicultural society and try to respect everyone's religious faith (although I think they are poor misguided people who would be happier without it), but even I am losing patience.

Lets bring back crucifiction, and be damned.

Kats

I'VE BEEN TAGGED

2006-01-24T06:15:00.000Z

The picture has nothing to do with what I am about to write - it is a symbolic gesture to Gavin Corder for tagging me.

I have become part of a plot to reveal my anonymous self to the blogging community. So, I have been tagged to do a 7 x 7 meme. What is that? Click on Gav's Blog (in the sidebar) and see. So, rather than be seen to be a miserable cow rather than a mad one here goes.

Seven Things to do before I die

1. Give up smoking (putting the cart before the horse now I think)

2. Learn to Dive (No, DIVE, not drive)

3. Persuade the world that religion is the root of all evil (well, one can dream, can't one?)

4. Snorkel in the Indian ocean one last time.

5. Finish my book.

6. Make a living from writing (still dreaming, mmm maybe not).

7. Make sense (read into that what you will, I know what it means)

Seven Things I cannot Do

1. Read a Map (I am woman, I am not genetically programmed for this)

2. Stand outside, point in a direction, say "that's Northwest" and be right. (How do people do that?)

3. Know my left from my right (unless I study my hands first). Many moons ago I used to sell shoes, then I had to wave the shoes about. I have been a source of great amusement over this.

4. Drink vast quantities of alcohol - Not allowed anymore - I have only one kidney.

5. Give in

6. Play the guitar - I did learn the violin and could read music (wonder if I still can? Is it like riding a bike?)

7. Sit on the pillion of a motorbike and lean in the correct direction when hurtling round a corner (It just doesn't feel right to put your face as close to the tarmac as possible whilst moving at great speed).

Seven Things I say

1. And your point is?

2. In yer dreams.

3. I don't bloody well think so (When refusing, not passing an opinion)

4. Chiselling bastards (Usually when referring to banks, and the government)

5. My brain hurts (when I am puzzled or have a headache)

6. Spaghetti Bollock Nakeds (I'm sure you can work that out)

7. Beam me up

Seven books I love

1. Love in the Time of Cholera

2. Captain Corellis Mandolin

3. Lord of the Rings

4. Treasure Island

5. Aeon

6. Darwin's Radio

7. Only Forward

Seven Movies I Love

1. On Golden Pond

2. The Matrix Trilogy

3. One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest

4. Truly, Madly, Deeply

5. Dances with Wolves

6. Lord of the Rings (all of them)

7. Alien (all of them)

Seven things that attract me to

Mind your own business Gavin!

Kats :0)

SOMETHING FOR THE WEEK-END

2006-01-20T07:20:00.000Z

The following are all replies that women have put on Child Support Agency forms in the section for listing father's details: Allegedly!

1. Regarding the identity of the father of my twins, child "A" was fathered by [name removed]. I am unsure as to the identity of the father of child "B", but I believe that he was conceived on the same night.

2. I am unsure as to the identity of the father of my child as I was being sick out of a window when taken unexpectedly from behind. I can provide you with a list of names of men that I think were at the party if this helps.

3. I do not know the name of the father of my little girl. She was conceived at a party [address and date given] where I had unprotected sex with a man I met that night. I do remember that the sex was so good that I fainted. If you do manage to track down the father can you send me his phone number? Thanks.

4. I don't know the identity of the father of my daughter. He drives a BMW that now has a hole made by my stiletto in one of the door panels. Perhaps you can contact BMW service stations in this area and see if he's had it replaced.

5. I have never had sex with a man. I am awaiting a letter from the Pope confirming that my son's conception was immaculate and that he is Christ risen again.

6. I cannot tell you the name of child A's dad as he informs me that to do so would blow his cover and that would have cataclysmic implications for the British economy. I am torn between doing right by you and right by the country.Please advise.

7. I do not know who the father of my child was as all squaddies look the same to me. I can confirm that he was a Royal Green Jacket.

8. [name given] is the father of child A. If you do catch up with him can you ask him what he did with my AC/DC CDs?

9. From the dates it seems that my daughter was conceived at Euro Disney maybe it really is the Magic Kingdom.

10. So much about that night is a blur. The only thing that I remember for sure is Delia Smith did a programme about eggs earlier in the evening. If I'd have stayed in and watched more TV rather than going to the party at [address given], mine might have remained unfertilised.

11. I am unsure as to the identity of the father of my baby, after all when you eat a tin of beans you can't be sure which one made you fart

Kats :0)

BUSH'S EXIT STRATEGY FOR IRAQ

2006-01-18T07:43:00.000Z

YIPPEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2006-01-16T22:26:00.000Z

This is how I feel today. Sold the house, found a boat. Love my new job and can do it whilst sailing, it just doesn't get any better. About bloody time too.

I will now get back to "The Owl and the Pussycat" and start to chronicle this humungous (is that how you spell it?) life change.

By the beginning of March we should be on the water - one snag - the boat is being shipped from Florida, and we don't have the money to pay for it until we hand over the keys to the castle.

I wonder what sleeping in an old Ford Escort is gonna be like with two cats and a collie?

Stand by for further developments.

Kats

PUT A SOCK IN IT, ROGER!

2006-01-08T09:28:00.000Z

Ex Who member Roger Daltrey has said that Gary Glitter should not be condemned for his predilection for little girls, but should be helped.

Glitter, 61, was last week charged with committing obscene acts with two girls aged 10 and 11. Six years ago he was convicted in Britain of possessing child pornography.

I know how I'd like to help him, but I choose to stay within the laws of a decent society, if your rose tinted glasses are firmly on your nose.

But Daltrey, whose bandmate Pete Townshend was arrested for accessing child porn on the internet in 2003, expressed sympathy for Glitter in an interview with Mojo Magazine.

He said: "It's hard, because as much as I abhor it, I can only as a human being think it must be awful for these people to be trapped in that head ...
"I don't know what the answer is. I don't know if the way we treat it in this society is the right way to treat it

"Can you imagine what it might be like? It's not a choice to them.

Everyone has a choice Roger, and everyone knows that it is abhorrent and wrong. Therefore even if you want to, you can think about the effect you're having on the rest of a child's life for a few moments of personal perverted pleasure, not to mention those around them who love them and have to live with the horror, and probably a lifetime's guilt.

Let's face it, if we line up many of these animals, such as the Roman Catholic Priests (if we've enough space to put them), they are not unintelligent or on the fringes of society on the surface.

They are weak and selfish. It is about power, as are all acts of rape.

Daltrey was a staunch defender of Townshend when the guitarist was arrested as part of Operation Ore in 2003.

Townshend was cautioned and had his name placed on the sex offenders' register after admitting once using his credit card to access child pornography, but insisted he was only looking at the site while conducting "research" into child sex abuse.

I wonder if Roger would be so charitable if Gary had got his hands on his daughter?

For Christ's sake lock him up and throw away the key

Kats

AGNOSTIC HEAVEN and AN ATHEIST'S DELIGHT

2006-01-07T14:11:00.000Z

There is a lovely little feud going on in Italy, which has finally reached the courts.

The court is tackling an accusation of whether it is legal to teach of someone's existence if it can't be proved whether they existed or not on the first place.

The defendant Enrico Righi is a parish priest in the same town as the plaintiff Luigi Casciolli. Both attended the same seminary in their youth but Luigi is now a vocal atheist and has spent years trying to get this er thorny subject to court.

"I started this lawsuit because I wanted to deal the final blow against the Church, the bearer of obscurantism and regression," Cascioli told Reuters.

Cascioli says Righi, and by extension the whole Church, broke two Italian laws. The first is "Abuso di Credulita Popolare" (Abuse of Popular Belief) meant to protect people against being swindled or conned. The second crime, he says, is "Sostituzione di Persona," or impersonation.
"The Church constructed Christ upon the personality of John of Gamala," Cascioli claimed, referring to the 1st century Jew who fought against the Roman army.

Anything or anybody, particularly in a country where that nasty little (well, not so little) city called the Vatican has such sway and power, who has the guts to stand up and call them into question over their questionable reasoning deserves a sainthood in my opinion.

The Pope has declined to comment, the coward. The Judge has stated that Christ's existence must be proved.

I await the outcome with baited breath, and of course just a tiny bit of malicious wishful thinking.

Kats

HOOORAY HENRY

2006-01-07T14:07:00.000Z

Courtesy of Private Eye

ONE STEP FORWARD, TWO STEPS BACK

2006-01-01T21:42:00.000Z

Hello and Happy New Year to everyone.

I'm so glad that Christmas is over with - not my favourite time of year, but nevertheless hope you all had a joyous time.

For those of you not familiar with quaint Scots customs, new year is a two day affair here and I must say it's like waiting for the world to be resuscitated. I'm not blessed with patience and I need to get a move on.

For those of you who may be interested here is an update. I am smarting over how hypocritical and two faced people can be. Why? Here's why.

A couple from Luton came to view our house. The female of the pair asked to talk money and although I had promised my estate agent (who is also a friend) not to and to let him do it, I broke the rule. I was asked a price, gave the price and then was told a story about how they had missed a house because someone had sold their property for a higher price, privately, although they knew they had put the highest bid in. (In Scotland we state an asking price and invite bids). So Me being me (soft as shite) promised that if they offered and we accepted I would not accept a higher offer.

Lo and behold two days later a written offer came from Mr. and Mrs Luton for the price we wanted. Job done. Oh no. Two weeks go by and true to my word, no other people were allowed to come and view. Then I receive a phone call, via the agent and via their solicitor and Mr. and Mrs. Luton try to get me to knock of £5,000 off the price, to which I reply with steam coming out of my ears, "tell them to get stuffed". A day later another message, if they stick to original offer will I sell to them - my reply - is still get stuffed.

Why do some people demand principles from you when they have none, the chiselling bastards.

So, back to the drawing board, which in it's turn holds everything else up. This life changing stuff is not easy. *sigh*

Now on to the 60 foot converted trawler near Spean Bridge. The answer to that one is Gribbles. Wots a Gribble I hear you land lovers shout. Tis a nasty little worm that gets into the hull of a wooden boat, I reply, and eats it and eventually you sink, or pay endless amounts of money replacing parts of the hull that have been nibbled by a gribble. Said boat on a previous survey had evidence of the dreaded gribble, but it had not been treated.

I now refuse to buy a wooden boat for fear of the gribble which has taken on the persona of Godzilla in my head.

To be continued........................

Kats

TURKEY'S REVENGE

2005-12-25T20:32:00.000Z

It's 8.30 pm on Christmas Day. This is how bored I am now:

clicketyclick here peeps and have a laugh. Turn up your sound.

Kats

25 THINGS TO PONDER FOR THE NEW YEAR

2005-12-24T07:37:00.000Z

1. If you're too open-minded, your brains will fall out

.2. Don't worry about what people think; they don't do it very often.

3. Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.

4. It ain't the jeans that make your butt look fat.

5. Artificial intelligence is no match for natural stupidity.

6. Our idea of housework is to sweep the room with a glance.

7. Not one shred of evidence supports the notion that life is serious.

8. It is easier to get forgiveness than permission.

9. For every action, there is an equal and opposite government programme.

10. If you look like your passport picture, you definitely need the trip.

11. Bills travel through the mail at twice the speed of cheques.

12. A conscience is what hurts when all of your other parts feel so good.

13. Eat well, stay fit, die anyway.

14. Men are from earth. Women are from earth. Deal with it.

15. No man has ever been shot while doing the dishes.

16. A balanced diet is a biscuit in each hand.

17. Middle age is when broadness of the mind and narrowness of the waist change places.

18. Opportunities always look bigger going than coming.

19. Junk is something you've kept for years and throw away three weeks before you need it.

20. There is always one more imbecile than you counted on.

21. Experience is a wonderful thing. It enables you to recognise a mistake when you make it again.

22. By the time you can make ends meet, they've moved the ends.

23. Thou shalt not weigh more than thy refrigerator.

24. Someone who thinks logically provides a nice contrast to the real world.

25. If you must choose between two evils, pick the one you've never tried before

KATS :0)

ONE NINETY NINER, ONLY ONE NINETY NINER

2005-12-21T21:28:00.000Z

I read with some amusement, followed by a loud sigh, that the Burger King Advert has been, because a live cow was wearing a Burger Blanket, was deemed offensive by some among us.

Who to? Well for a start Vegetarians - I can understand that, but do they blindfold themselves when walking past the meat counter in Tescos or wherever and cross the road to avoid the Butcher's shop so as not to upset their poor sensitive feelings. Or perhaps it has turned into a religion and we must not offend it at any cost or cause the veggie equivalent of a jihad, named perhaps the "lethal Turnip Squads". Don't get me wrong, I used to be one, but alas missed my bacon butties, but still find it difficult to put up with that smell of "Dead meat" in the Butchers.

However it was not only veggies that objected to it. Many carnivores did too. Why? Well, people like to think that that nice piece of meat on a polystyrene tray covered in clingfilm with a nice label on it never walked around on 4 legs (or in the case of chickens etc, 2 of them). In fact, in the past, to my horror and disbelief I have encountered people and children that had no idea where it came from. They must have thought there was a nice hygienic factory somewhere, with not a drop of blood in sight, where by some miracle, manufactured meat popped out of a magical mechanical hole, trundled along a conveyor belt, gets all wrapped up nicely and hey presto, dinner for sale. The sad part about it is many folk would not know what to do with a nice juicy leg of lamb .

Well to put my slant on it - I don't find the advert offensive but I find the shite people eat and worse feed their kids on from these establishments, quite frankly bloody horrific. Don't even get me started on how chicken nuggets are made.

Anyway here is said article:

An advert featuring a cow wearing a Burger King-branded blanket has been cleared of breaching industry guidelines for causing offence.
The Advertising Standards Authority ruled that the commercial did not breach industry regulations despite 82 complaints.
Some vegetarian viewers thought the advert was "distressing", while others found it offensive or in poor taste.
The ASA conceded that some viewers would think it in poor taste to use a live cow in an advert for a hamburger chain, but said the ad was unlikely to have caused serious offence.
"Whilst we recognised that some viewers would find the link between the cow and the product distasteful and too direct an approach, we did not consider it was likely to cause serious or widespread offence against general public feeling," the watchdog ruled.
In the advert, a man was shown in a field singing, "£1.99er, they're only £1.99", before a cow walked by clad in a Burger King blanket.
In its defence, Burger King told the ASA that the ad was intended to be light-hearted and did not believe it would offend anyone.

What a waste of money even investigating it.

*Sigh*

Kats

Life

2005-12-19T22:35:00.000Z

Life is running away with me at the moment.

I have suddenly found myself working for a living, and what I was told was 2 days a week is rapidly turning into five. I am now incarcerated in an office with a lunatic who has been collecting junk for 4 years. Well ok, some of it is antique and very nice too. I was taken to a secret location, not blindfolded, just sworn to secrecy on pain of death, taken into two very, very, large sheds which are bursting to the rafters with the lunatic's "collection". "Right" he said, waving his arms like windmills, "all this has to be catalogued, described, photographed and put on e-bay. So there I am doing said tasks and, actually rather enjoying it. Each crate that is hauled down to the office is like opening a treasure chest, you name it, he's bought it.

Hence my lack of blogging - I must get some discipline going again.

The rest of my time has been spent boat hunting. Last Friday I was down in Spean Bridge looking at a 60 foot converted Motor Fishing Vessel, moored on Loch Lochy.

So, we have made an offer and she is to be surveyed this week, and all being well she will be ours by the end of March. We have a slight problem though, - we can't find a mooring - a slight technical hitch - maybe doomed to wander the seas like a pair of aging maritime new age travellers.

Anyway, now it's becoming a reality it's becoming scary. Such a life change, exciting and bloody terrifying at the same time.

To be continued...................................

Kats

BEER SCOOTER

2005-12-11T07:14:00.000Z

How many times have you woken up in the morning after a hard night drinking and thought 'How on earth did I get home?' As hard as you try, you cannot piece together your return journey from the pub to your house.

The answer to this puzzle is that you used a Beer Scooter.

The Beer Scooter is a mythical form of transport, owned and leased to the drunk by Bacchus the Roman God of Wine. Bacchus has acquired a large batch of these magical devices. The Beer Scooter works in the following fashion:-

The passenger reaches a certain level of drunkenness and the "slurring gland" begins to give off a pheromone.Bacchus or one of his many sub-contractors detects this pheromone and sends down a winged Beer Scooter. The scooter scoops up the passenger and deposits them in their bedroom via a Trans-Dimensional Portal.

This is not cheap to run, so a large portion of the passenger's in-pocket cash is taken as payment. This answers the second question after a night out, 'How did I spend so much money?'

Unfortunately, Beer Scooters have a poor safety record and are thought to be responsible for over 90% of all UDI (Unidentified Drinking Injuries), such as skinned knees and a sore spot on the top of your head.

An undocumented feature of the Beer Scooter is the destruction of time segments during the trip. The nature of Trans-Dimensional Portals dictates that time will be lost, seemingly unaccounted for. This answers a third question after a night out 'What the hell happened?'

With good intentions, Bacchus opted for the REMIT (Removal of Embarrassing Moments In Time) add-on, that automatically removes, in descending order, those parts in time regretted most. Unfortunately one person's REMIT is not necessarily the REMIT of another's and quite often lost time is regained in discussions over a period of time.

Independent studies have also shown that Beer Goggles often cause the Scooter's navigation system to malfunction thus sending passengers to the wrong bedroom, often with horrific consequences. For the family man, Beer Scooters come equipped with flowers picked from other people's garden and Thump-A-Lot boots (Patent Pending). These boots are designed in such a way that no matter how quietly you tip-toe up the stairs, you are sure to wake up your other half. Special anti-gravity springs ensure that you bump into every wall in the house and the CTSGS (Coffee Table Seeking Guidance System) explains the bruised shins.

The final add-on Bacchus saw fit to invest in for some Scooters is the TA (Tobacco Absorption System). This explains how one person can apparently get through 260 Marlboro Lights in a single night.

P.S. Don't forget the on-board heater, which allows you to comfortably get home from the pub in sub-zero temperatures, wearing just a T-shirt.

Kats

FOR WHOM THE BELL TOLLS PLUS RUDOLPH

2005-12-10T23:09:00.000Z

I have just spent all day on a train, well two, actually, after visiting "darn sarth". I look in my e-mail, and what do I find - Gavin Corder, asking where's the Saturday joke gone?

Mark, my words he'll steal it and put it on his own blog. Well Gavin they say it's the sincerest form of flattery so I'll forgive you.

Your joke is below:

After Quasimodo's death, the bishop of the cathedral of Notre Dame sent word through the streets of Paris that a new bellringer was needed.

The bishop decided that he would conduct the interviews personally and went up into the belfry to begin the screening process. After observing several applicants demonstrate their skills, he decided to call it a day when a lone, armless man approached him and announced that he was there to apply for the bellringer's job. The bishop was incredulous. "You have no arms!" he said. "No matter," said the man,"observe!" He then began striking the bells with his face, producing a beautiful melody on the carillon. The bishop listened in astonishment, convinced that he had finally found a suitable replacement for Quasimodo.

Suddenly, rushing forward to strike a bell, the armless man tripped, and plunged headlong out of the belfry window to his death in the street below.

The stunned bishop rushed to his side. When he reached the street, a crowd had gathered around the fallen figure, having been drawn by the beautiful music they had heard only moments before. As they silently parted to let the bishop through, one of them asked, "Bishop, who was this man?" "I don't know his name," the bishop replied, "but his face rings a bell." (Wait there's more)

The following day, despite the sadness that weighed heavily on his heart due to the unfortunate death of the armless campanologist, the bishop continued his interviews for the bellringer of Notre Dame. The first man to approach him said, "Your Excellency, I am the brother of the poor, armless wretch that fell to his death from this very belfry yesterday. I pray that you honour his life by allowing me to replace him in this duty." The bishop agreed to give the man an audition, and as the armless man's brother stooped to pick up a mallet to strike the first bell, he groaned, clutched at his chest and died on the spot! Two monks, hearing the bishop's cries of grief at this second tragedy, rushed up the stairs to his side. "What has happened" the first breathlessly monk asked, "Who is this man?" "I didn't get his name," sighed the distraught bishop, "but he's a dead ringer for his brother."

Kats

DON'T JUST DO IT, B & Q IT

2005-12-06T10:36:00.000Z

Yes, it's that time of year again when the £25,000 Turner Prize is awarded. As you probably know it went to the "shed" which apparently was dismantled, turned into a boat, floated and then re-assembled as a shed.

So, your DIY skills can win you the Turner Prize now, and secondly what a monumental waste of time.

Anyway read this:

The artist has said that his works are the physical manifestation of my thought process. Tate curators hailed the shed as poetic . . a buttress against the pressures of modernity, mass production and global capitalism. They added: For each project, he has learnt particular skills model-making, boat-building, engineering ... but always stopping short of complete mastery. We can sense, in the visible fissures and joins of his works, the signs of a paradoxical amateur professionalism.

Can't you just picture some anally rententive, superior being spouting off the above, whilst waving his glass of expensive bubbly around to make us all aware of his supreme powers of insight and superior knowledge, that none of us who gaze in wonder at a bloke getting an artistic accolade for re-assembling a shed and a back hander of £25,000 could possibly appreciate.

Pass me the sick bag.

Kats:0)

ILL AND BUSY

2005-12-03T13:25:00.000Z

I have been Ill, around being busy so no blogging this week. However here is another joke to get your week-end going and normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.

Read all the memos.

FROM: Pauline Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All Employees
DATE: 4th November 2004
RE: Christmas Party

I'm happy to inform you that the company Christmas Party will
take place on December 23rd, starting at noon in the private
Function room at the Grill House. There will be a cash bar and plenty
Of drinks! We'll have a small band playing traditional carols...please
Feel free to sing along. And don't be surprised if the MD shows
Up dressed as Santa Claus! A Christmas tree will be lit at 1.00 pm.
Exchange of gifts among employees can be done at that time,
however, no gift should be over £10.00 to make the giving of gifts
easy for everyone's pockets. This gathering is only for employees! The
MD will make a special announcement at the Party.
Merry Christmas to you and your Family.
Pauline

FROM: Pauline Lewis, Human Resources Director TO: All Employees
DATE: 5th November 2004
RE: Holiday Party

In no way was yesterday's memo intended to exclude our Jewish
employees. We recognize that Chanukah is an important holiday,
which often coincides with Christmas, though unfortunately not this
year. However, from now on we're calling it our 'Holiday Party'..
The same policy applies to any other employees who are not Christians.
There will be no Christmas tree or Christmas carols sung. We will have
other types of music for your enjoyment.
Happy now?
Happy Holidays to you and your family,
Pauline.

FROM; Pauline Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All Employees
DATE: 6th November 2004
RE: Holiday Party

Regarding the note I received from a member of Alcoholics
Anonymous requesting a non-drinking table...you didn't sign your name.
I'm happy to accommodate this request, but if I put a sign on a table
that reads, "AA Only", you wouldn't be anonymous anymore!!!!How
am I supposed to handle this? Somebody? Forget about the gift
exchange, no gift exchange allowed now since the Union Officials feel
that $10.00 is too much money and Management believe $10.00 is a
little cheap. NO GIFT EXCHANGE WILL BE ALLOWED.
Pauline.

FROM: Pauline Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All Employees
DATE: 7th November 2004
RE: Holiday Part

What a diverse group we are! I had no idea that December 20th
begins the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, which forbids eating and
drinking during daylight hours. There goes the party! Seriously, we
can appreciate how a luncheon at this time of year does not
accommodate our Muslim employees' beliefs, perhaps the Grill House
can hold off on serving your meal until the end of the party - or else
package everything up for you to take home in a little foil doggy bag. Will
that work?

Meanwhile, I've arranged for members of Weight Watchers to sit farthest
from the dessert buffet and pregnant women will get the table
closest to the toilets, Gays are allowed to sit with each other,
Lesbians do not have to sit with gay men, each will have their own
table.

Yes, there will be flower arrangements for the gay men's table too.
To the person asking permission to cross dress - no cross dressing
allowed. We will have booster seats for short people. Low fat
food will be available for those on a diet. We cannot control the
salt used in the food we suggest those people with high blood
pressure taste the food first... There will be fresh fruits as dessert
for Diabetics, the restaurant cannot supply "No Sugar" desserts.
Sorry! Did I miss anything?!?!?!?!?!
Pauline.

FROM: Pauline Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All F****** Employees
DATE: 8 November 2004
RE: The ******** Holiday Party.

Vegetarian pricks I've had it with you people!!! We're going
to keep this party at the Grill House whether you like it or
not, so you can sit quietly at the table furthest from the "grill of
death", as you so quaintly put it, you'll get your f****** salad bar,
including organic tomatoes, But you know tomatoes have feelings
too, They scream when you slice them. I've heard them scream. I'm
hearing the scream right NOW!! I hope you all have a rotten holiday,
drink drive and die.
The Bitch from HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

FROM: John Bishop - Acting Human Resources Director
DATE: 9th November 2004
RE: Pauline Lewis and Holiday Party

I'm sure I speak for all of us in wishing Pauline Lewis a
speedy recovery and I'll continue to forward your cards to her. In
the meantime, the Management has decided to cancel our Holiday
Party and instead, give everyone the afternoon of the 23rd December off
with full pay.
Diane

Kats:0)

FOR THE SCHOLASTIC AMONG US

2005-11-26T00:11:00.000Z

My word, is it Saturday again?

At New York's Kennedy airport today, an individual later discovered to be a public school teacher, was arrested trying to board a flight while in possession of a ruler, a protractor, a setsquare, a slide rule, and a calculator.

At a morning press conference, Attorney general John Ashcroft said he believes the man is a member of the notorious Al-gebra movement. He is being charged by the FBI with carrying weapons of math instruction.

"Al-gebra is a fearsome cult," Ashcroft said. "They desire average solutions by means and extremes, and sometimes go off on tangents in a search of absolute value. They use secret code names like 'x' and 'y' and refer to themselves as 'unknowns,' but we have determined they belong to a common denominator of the axis of medieval with coordinates in every country. As the Greek philanderer Isosceles used to say, 'There are 3 sides to every triangle,'" Ashcroft declared.

When asked to comment on the arrest, President Bush said, "If God had wanted us to have better weapons of math instruction, He would have given us more fingers and toes. I am gratified that our government has given us a sine that it is intent on protracting us from these math-dogs who are willing to disintegrate us with calculus disregard.

"Murky statisticians love to inflict plane on every sphere of influence," the President said, adding: "Under the circumferences, we must differentiate their root, make our point, and draw the line." President Bush warned, "These weapons of math instruction have the potential to decimal everything in their math on a scalene never before seen unless we become exponents of a Higher Power and begin to factor-in random facts of vertex."

Attorney General Ashcroft said, "As our Great Leader would say, 'Read myellipse!'

KATS:0)

IRON CROTCH - SERIOUSLY?- FRAID SO.

2005-11-25T16:00:00.000Z

In a previous post called "Size Matters" I remarked on a new type of spam in my in-box.

Penis enlargement patches, in three different strengths, guaranteed (oh yeah) to increase the size of your willy by up to 7 cm (in yer dreams). They came with an exercise manual (guffaw) and I mused on mini dumbbells and a plumb line with weight attached (ouch). I wondered where you put the patches .

Listen carefully, I think I've found the band of merry men who use these.

Jin Sheng is the Grand Master of this group of merry men who call their club Iron Crotch (I do not jest). It consists of approximately 60,000 members (Freudian slip) worldwide who practice the art of Qigong.

What is Qigong I hear you ask? It is the art of lifting hundreds of pounds with your genitals to increase energy and sexual performance. Really, I kid you not. For once I'm glad to be female.

Jin Sheng attached himself to a truck (yes, by his genitals) and pulled it across a car park.

If he keeps this up for much longer he'll be able to sling it over his shoulder and go to his next fancy dress party as a petrol pump, and win the prize.

Sorry guys, I'm going to make your eyes water now. Mine are watering already, but not for the same reason.

The Tri-Valley Herald reports that he first tied a strip of blue fabric around his penis and testicles and tugged to make sure it was on tight.

An assistant then kicked him hard between the legs before he lashed himself to the vehicle.

No sense no feeling then.

Incidentally you stick the patches anywhere on your body. Mr. Sheng probably sticks his on the hairiest most tender bit of his body (I'll leave you to work that one out) just so he can enjoy the pain when he rips it off.

I suppose it keeps them out of mischief.

Kats:0)

AAAARRRRGH!!!!!

2005-11-24T23:24:00.000Z

If I have another "countdown to Christmas" pop up ad on this computer again, I'm going to throw it out the bloody window!

It's snowing by the way. Alot.

Kats:0(

THE OWL AND THE PUSSYCAT

2005-11-22T14:20:00.000Z

I'm having far too much fun slagging off the Pope, and generally ranting (in a humorous way I hope) on this blog.

So, for those of you who are interested in my transition from land to sea, it will be chronicled in a separate blog which is linked on this page.

I will not be discussing the joys of beams, engines, draughts etc, because it's boring and the whole point is the change. I may throw in the odd technical term or two to show off though.

There is so much angst, joy, laughter, puzzlement, trepidation, frustration (I've run out of descriptions now) tied up in all this, I would like you to suffer with me. I suppose, eventually I will have to rename this blog "Life in the Shipping Lane".

If you are going to have a mid-life crisis, you might as well make it a good one. Eh Kim?

Is that OK?

Kats:0)

IT JUST GET'S BETTER

2005-11-22T13:04:00.000Z

Well Gary, I wonder if those moments of pleasure were worth it?

It's good to know that there is a country on this planet that deals wth this type of thing seriously.

He served 4 months through the British justice system.

Vietnam's prisons are notorious for their squalor. Attention to sanitation, hygiene and food is in line with the treatment meted out to the country's "dregs".

Prisoners' food allowance is just 12kg of rice or rice substitute a month each. This is often reduced to 9kg for minor infringements of prison rules or for showing disrespect. Prisoners are expected to repent their crimes frequently and in writing. Beatings with bamboo canes are common, as is the use of stocks and electric shock treatment.

Prisoners are also expected to do hard labour and even when they have finished their sentence they may not be released. Under Resolution 49 of the Standing Committee of the 2nd Congress in Hanoi, they can be kept indefinitely and no prisoner is released unless the local commune of authority is willing to let them back into society.

Glitter, who has yet to be charged, was seen on Sunday by British Embassy officials, who are assisting him in getting a lawyer.

Gary, I hope you get all the above, in spades.

Kats:0)

POETIC JUSTICE

2005-11-21T14:36:00.000Z

MONDAY 21/11/2005 13:19:09
Glitter 'may face death by firing squad'Disgraced Seventies rock star Gary Glitter could face death by firing squad after he was accused of having sex with a girl aged just 12, police said today.

Kats

ALL THAT GLITTERS

2005-11-19T09:24:00.000Z

I'm sure you remember, if you're a bit old like me, that strange person that used to dress up in silver platform knee high boots with matching jumpsuit, who went by the name of Garry Glitter?

I remember him as this seedy looking middle aged bloke who was always red faced, (indicating an alcohol problem?), dripping with sweat, (high blood pressure?), and in dire need of a decent hairdresser and a talented make-up artist, while he was strutting his stuff, and quite frankly not making a very good job of it. You must admit he did have the aura of a pervert and that's exactly what he turned out to be, the nasty little man.

He was arrested on child pornography charges, and let's face it with something like that if you are collecting images of it, you are sure as hell acting it out. He was also in a profession (and I use the term loosely, in his case) where he was ideally placed to bring his sick fantasy into reality.

Before I get to the point, which always takes me a while, I'm glad to say that after googling away here I could not come up with a photo, but I would have liked one of him to post in his finery, in his sweat laden frenzy on stage, just to show what a complete and utter twat he looked. Why glad? Because that sends him into oblivion, which is the best place for him, and anyone who uses his position in life, to the detriment of others should be made to feel totally unimportant, but not too much.

The police in Vietnam are looking for him, where , not to put too finer point on it, he is at it again.

Many years ago while back packing in the third world, I was confronted at breakfast, by a German man appearing with his, definitely not more than 10 years old, "boyfriend", whom he stroked and whispered endearments to. I never managed to finish my breakfast that morning and neither did he after I'd finished telling him what I thought of him and forcibly making him wear his fried eggs. If I could have gotten away with it he would have been wearing his balls for earrings for good measure.

So Mr. Glitter, has made his way to a poor country in a part of the world which is notorious down at the lower level of his part of the food chain as being an easy mark, if you have the money, to take advantage of the poverty and need, where desperation will outweigh fear and morality. Another example is a famous science fiction writer living in a far away place, whose "boy" lies under his desk like a dog waiting to please.

When people like this are convicted, they should be stripped of their financial assets, in order to stop them leaving the country and inflicting their perversion on even more vulnerable children. They should spend longer in prison, and be kept in solitary, preferably until they are too old and decrepit to have the strength to perform any sort of sexual act, or given the appropriate medication. A frontal lobotomy would do it, and would be a damn sight cheaper.

On second thoughts I mentioned oblivion previously, so put him in a silver glitter space suit, along with Jonathan King. Book the space shuttle, (make the Vatican pay for it, as part of their penance) and blast them into outer space and once up there shove them out the airlock.

They always wanted to be stars didn't they? I wonder if Gary was ever a priest?

Kats:0)

IT'S SATURDAY AGAIN

2005-11-19T09:04:00.000Z

EVERY CLOUD.....................

2005-11-13T08:33:00.000Z

..................... has a silver lining, and I have just found mine.

After months of being out of work, watching hard earned savings dwindling to nothing, just to keep our heads above water, we have come to the point where being property rich and cash poor, the house has gone on the market this week. The wolves are at the door, howling for money we just don't have. I have cried many tears of frustration, desperation and complete and utter sadness at finding myself in this awful position, but at the same time, because of, at times, a debilitating clinical depression, unable to make a positive move. Like a rabbit frozen by fear in the headlights of life. - not the me I used to be.

Problems with aged parents, whom I love to distraction, divided loyalties, guilt by the truckload, and trying to balance the whole lot and trying to appear "normal" outside of my immediate environment.

Well, that's the self-indulgent bit over with. Did I hear a sigh of relief out there? I'd better get to this silver lining before you all die of boredom.

Have you ever had something in the back of your mind, that niggles and wriggles for years on end. It is a thought of "I'd love to do that" and really you think you never will, because it's a huge life change and "other" people do things like that, and you carry on with the drudge of every day life, going to work, paying the mortgage etc. etc. and view "those who dare" with a sigh of envy.

The silver lining has appeared in the form of a 68 feet larch on oak fishing vessel converted to live aboard, complete with a rayburn cooker in the galley and full size bath in one of the bathrooms.

Him Indoors and I have been feverishly reseaching all things maritime, from moorings to courses on navigation.

Instead of paying rent on a house and putting money in the pocket of someone else, this boat will be bought for cash and will be our home. A total life change that has it's pitfalls (I'm not going into this with rose tinted glasses), but it will never be the life again of a hamster in a wheel with the government waiting in the wings to take as much of away from you as it can.

I am going to enjoy my life, earn money from the experience and have a freedom that is known to few people. All it takes is the guts and the determination to make a leap, and I have not felt so brave and determined for a long long time.

I feel another blogsite coming on.

Kats :0)

2012 OLYMPICS

2005-11-12T07:29:00.000Z

Glasgow made an audacious bid to host the 2012 Summer Olympics.

In an attempt to influence the members of the International Olympic Committee on their choice of venue for the games in the year 2012, the organisers of the Glasgow bid have already drawn up an itinerary and schedule of events. A copy has been leaked and is reproduced below:

Opening Ceremony
The Olympic Flame will be ignited by a petrol bomb, thrown by a native of the city (preferably from the Easterhouse area), wearing the traditional costume of shell-suit, baseball cap and balaclava mask. It will burn for the duration of the Games in a large chip van situated on the roof of the stadium.

The Events
In previous Olympic Games, Scotland's competitors have not been particularly successful. In order to redress the balance, some of the events have been altered slightly to the advantage of the local Glaswegian athletes.

100 Metres Sprint: Competitors will have to hold a video recorder and microwave oven, one in each arm. On the sound of the starting pistol a police dog will be released from a cage 10 yards behind the athletes.

110 Metres Hurdles: As above but with added obstacles (ie. car bonnets, hedges, gardens, fences, walls, etc).

Hammer: Competitors in this event may choose the type of hammer they wish (claw, sledge etc). The winner will be the one who can cause the most grievous bodily harm to members of the public within the time allowed.

Fencing: Entrants will be asked to dispose of as much stolen silver and jewellery as possible in 5 minutes.

Shooting: A strong challenge is expected from the local team in this event. The first target will be the moving police van. In the second round competitors will aim at a post office clerk, bank teller or Securicor style wages deliveryman.

Boxing: Entry to the boxing will be restricted to husband and wife teams and will take place on a Friday night. The husband will be given 15 pints of Tennants whilst the wife will be told not to make him any tea when he gets home. The bout will then commence.

Cycling Time Trials: Competitors will be asked to break into the university bike shed and take an expensive mountain bike owned by some mummy's boy from England on his first trip away from home. All against the clock.

Cycling Pursuit: As above but the bike will be owned by a visiting member of the Australian rugby team, who will witness the theft.

Modern Pentathlon: Amended to include mugging, breaking and entering, flashing, joyriding and arson.

The Marathon: A safe route has yet to be decided, but the competitors will be issued with sharp sticks and bags with which to pick up litter on their way round the course.

Swimming: Competitors will be thrown off the bridge on the Clyde. The first three survivors back will decide the medals.

Men's 50km Walk: Unfortunately, this will have to be cancelled as the police cannot guarantee the safety of anyone walking the streets of Glasgow.

The Closing Ceremony Entertainment will include formation rave dancing by members of the Glasgow "Health in the Community" anti-drug campaigners, synchronised rock throwing and music by the Govan Loyalist Boys Band.

The Olympic Flame will be extinguished by someone dropping an old washing machine onto it from the top floor of the block of flats next to the stadium. The stadium will then be boarded up before the local athletes can break into it and remove all the copper piping and the central heating boiler.

Henceforth Saturday is joke day on this blog, enjoy your week-end.

Kats:0)

"WINTER LIGHTS"

2005-11-10T16:00:00.000Z

Well, knock me down with a feather, I'm going to stick up for the Archbishop of Canterbury.

Those who know me are well aware of my adverse reaction to religion, my atheism and general antagonism towards "faith" and it's many guises, and no, I don't celebrate Christmas. Bah bloody humbug!

Maybe I should qualify. If someone is bound by their religion, more power to them, but leave me out of it, and don't hurt anyone as a result of it. Simple enough. Live and let live and each to his own. The same goes for race as well.

The Archbishop of Canterbury is pissed off, and rightly so. He speaks about the "nonsense" of banning Christian symbols at Christmas so as not to cause offence to other religions in our society. A nonsense is exactly what it is.

In recent years Christmas trees and lights have been banned from Job Centres and Charity shops so as not to give offence. Lambeth Borough Council, this year renamed its lights "winter lights" and "celebrity lights"but backed down after wide criticism . I should bloody well think so too.

Dr Williams said: I don't worry that our heritage is being sacrificed. I do worry at the ill-instructed way in which some people assume that the language of one religious tradition is automatically offensive to another.

We've had a Jihad on Burger King over swirly icecream symbols on lids for containers, a Fatwa on a certain author because he dared to write something he believed, and now the Christians in this country are being intimidated into "toning down" their presence at an important time in their religious calendar. Where is the common sense, justice and tolerance in that?

What does a fir tree and a few coloured lights have to do with Christianity anyway? Father Christmas has got bugger all to do with Jesus either!

Get a life and get on with it, quietly please.

Kats

HOT AIR

2005-11-07T14:26:00.000Z

From Private Eye.

Kats :0)

BREEDING FOR JESUS

2005-11-06T14:20:00.000Z

An Italian mother, Eurosia Fabris, who died in 1932, and who raised 11 children, 9 of them her own is one step away from sainthood.

This is a move by the Pope to encourage the raising of large families. Are they so far out of touch in the Pratican that poverty and aids don't matter, just the swelling of the flock at any cost?

While saintly patience could come in handy for motherhood, Fabris was singled out by Vatican Radio as being a ``dazzling model of holiness lived out in daily family life.''
``She knew how to transform her very large family into a school of holiness,'' Vatican Radio said on the eve of the ceremony.

I bet Mrs. Fabris praised the Lord while she lay sweating and heaving out the ninth one, wishing she'd kept her legs closed, while the other ten needed their washing done and dinner cooked and demanded attention. Not to mention her husband waiting for his next unprotected bit of attention.

Kats

DRIPPING WITH ENVY

2005-11-06T13:26:00.000Z

Randell Mills of Harvard University claims to have built a prototype power source of near limitless power, that costs virtually nothing, uses tiny amounts of water as it's fuel, and produces next to no waste.

He claims millions of dollars in investment, and is just months away from unveiling his creation.

It's existence has been verified by independent scientists, but there is a slight problem. Apparently it goes against the theory of quantum mechanics and has several scientists up in arms protesting that what he claims to have achieved is impossible.

Why - because they didn't think of it first?

The scientific community needs to get rid of it's petty jealousies and very large ego and develop a more open minded culture towards new and innovative science.

I for one hope Mr. Randell is kosher. Who cares if the rules of quantum mechanics are being questioned, and some egg-head who is so far up his own backside with self-importance is proved wrong.

This has a huge potential for the good of the planet, and that is all that matters in the long run.

Kats

CAR INSURANCE CLAIMS

2005-11-06T09:34:00.000Z

"The accident happened because I had one eye on the lorry in front, one eye on the pedestrian and the other on the car behind."

"I started to slow down but the traffic was more stationary than I thought."

"I pulled into a lay-by with smoke coming from under the hood. I realised the car was on fire so took my dog and smothered it with a blanket

."Q: Could either driver have done anything to avoid the accident? A: Travelled by bus?

The claimant had collided with a cow. The questions and answers on the claim form were - Q: What warning was given by you? A: Horn. Q: What warning was given by the other party? A: Moo.

"I started to turn and it was at this point I noticed a camel and an elephant tethered at the verge. This distraction caused me to lose concentration and hit a bollard."

"On approach to the traffic lights the car in front suddenly broke.""I was going at about 70 or 80 mph when my girlfriend on the pillion reached over and grabbed my testicles so I lost control."

"I didn't think the speed limit applied after midnight"

"I knew the dog was possessive about the car but I would not have asked her to drive it if I had thought there was any risk.

"Q: Do you engage in motorcycling, hunting or any other pastimes of a hazardous nature? A: "I Watch the Lottery Show and listen to Terry Wogan."

"First car stopped suddenly, second car hit first car and a haggis ran into the rear of second car."

"Windscreen broken. Cause unknown. Probably Voodoo."

"The car in front hit the pedestrian but he got up so I hit him again"

"I pulled away from the side of the road, glanced at my mother-in-law and headed over the embankment."

"The other car collided with mine without giving warning of its intention."

"I collided with a stationary truck coming the other way"

"A truck backed through my windshield into my wife's face"

"A pedestrian hit me and went under my car"

"In an attempt to kill a fly, I drove into a telephone pole."

"I had been shopping for plants all day and was on my way home. As I reached an intersection a hedge sprang up obscuring my vision and I did not see the other car."

"I was on my way to the doctor with rear end trouble when my universal joint gave way causing me to have an accident."

"An invisible car came out of nowhere, struck my car and vanished."

"I was thrown from the car as it left the road. I was later found in a ditch by some stray cows."

"Coming home I drove into the wrong house and collided with a tree I don't have."

"I thought my window was down, but I found it was up when I put my head through it."

"The guy was all over the road. I had to swerve a number of times before I hit him."

"I had been driving for forty years when I fell asleep at the wheel and had an accident."

"As I approached an intersection a sign suddenly appeared in a place where no stop sign had ever appeared before."

"To avoid hitting the bumper of the car in front I struck a pedestrian."

"My car was legally parked as it backed into another vehicle."

"I told the police that I was not injured, but on removing my hat found that I had a fractured skull."

"I was sure the old fellow would never make it to the other side of the road when I struck him."

"The pedestrian had no idea which way to run as I ran over him."

"I saw a slow moving, sad faced old gentleman as he bounced off the roof of my car."

"The indirect cause of the accident was a little guy in a small car with a big mouth."

"The telephone pole was approaching. I was attempting to swerve out of the way when I struck the front end."

"The gentleman behind me struck me on the backside. He then went to rest in a bush with just his rear end showing. "

"I had been learning to drive with power steering. I turned the wheel to what I thought was enough and found myself in a different direction going the opposite way."

"I was backing my car out of the driveway in the usual manner, when it was struck by the other car in the same place it had been struck several times before."

"When I saw I could not avoid a collision I stepped on the gas and crashed into the other car."

"The accident happened when the right front door of a car came round the corner without giving a signal."

"No one was to blame for the accident but it would never have happened if the other driver had been alert."

"I was unable to stop in time and my car crashed into the other vehicle. The driver and passengers then left immediately for a vacation with injuries."

"The pedestrian ran for the pavement, but I got him."

"I saw her look at me twice. She appeared to be making slow progress when we met on impact."

"The accident occurred when I was attempting to bring my car out of a skid by steering it into the other vehicle."

"My car got hit by a submarine." (The Navy informed the wife of a submariner that the craft was due in port. She drove to the base to meet her husband and parked at the end of the slip where the sub was to berth. An inexperienced ensign was conning the sub and it rammed the end of the slip, breaking a section away, causing her car to fall into the water. The Navy paid the compensation claim.

Kats:0)

VERY LARGE AND VERY STUPID

2005-11-04T17:54:00.000Z

Eight years ago I had a phone call from "him indoors", whilst I was away visiting family.

A friend of ours who rescues birds of prey and has dealings with the RSPCA had contacted "him" and asked if we could give a dog a home which happened to be a young St. Bernard.

So the result of the phone call was Bruno pictured above, in his favourite environment and the colder, the better as far as he is concerned.

His nickname, given by Him Indoors, is the "Dozy Bastard"

He had been kept in a very small back yard by the family who had apparently paid Â£800 for him, but could no longer afford to feed him. He was too weak to get into the back of the car and had to be lifted in - a hoist would have done a quicker and easier job of it.

So, I returned home to find an animal the size of a small shetland pony in my kitchen.

When dogs are upset or nervous they drool. St. Bernards drool anyway, so the sticky strings of saliva took on a life of their own, and seemed to multiply, and lengthen at will. When it all got too much for him there would be a shake of his massive head accompanied by the sound of jowls flapping like a flock of birds taking flight, and up the walls the saliva would go, and God help you if you happened to be within spitting distance. Bruno's saliva has the consistency of wall paper paste and dries like concrete. I am now doomed to a life, I thought, of chipping someone else's spit off the walls.

So began his road to recovery, which consisted of cod liver oil, vitamin powder and forced frog marching up hill and down dale, plus lashings of love and affection. He had never seen grass, running water, or trees and for a while, was totally bemused by these alien things, and sometimes still is.

One day a requiem sung by monks came on the radio, his ears perked up and away he went, howling and singing in a mournful fashion. St.Bernards were bred by monks for mountain rescue. This is the only type of music that has any effect on him -weird.

He was inspected by the Vet and we were advised that the kindest thing to do was keep him outside. I sighed with relief and put my wall chisel away. Bruno took up residence in the garden shed. We fenced off the back garden, and he has about a quarter of an acre to himself. If it snows or there is a hard frost he sleeps out in it by choice. Birds go in to roost with him in the winter and share his food. He lies head on paws gazing at chaffinches perched on the edge of his food bowl. He now shares his shed with a hedgehog which steals his food in the evening, literally from under his nose while he lies less than a foot away and watches it.

One night, in the forest he walked, nose to ground, as they do, and smacked forehead first into a tree with a loud clunk. He just stayed there, head pressed against the bark and waited for rescue.

He is terrified of thunder and gets over the fence and runs away. We live in the middle of nowhere with very few neighbours and he never goes far and is well known for his cowardice and odd behavior. Last time we had a phone call to say that he had been staring at a satellite dish on the ground for 10 minutes. The lady that phoned was hysterical with laughter.

One day he waded into a Loch and sank to his knees in mud. When called he just stood there and cried like a baby, because he didn't understand that he wasn't stuck. It took a great deal of arm waving and shouted encouragement to get him to walk out again.

If a branch is in the road he will stop, and refuse point blank to walk round it. His head will go down, all the skin on his face moves forward and produces a wrinkled frown of frustration and perplexity.

He's nearly 10 now which is a great age for his breed, 8 years is about the average. His back legs are weak ( a result of his early malnutrition) and he just plods along these days, and we don't think he will see the new year.

He fainted in the middle of the single track road that runs past the house. He is so huge and heavy (yes, he grew some more) all Him Indoors could do was stand guard and hope that he wouldn't be forced to direct traffic around him till he regained consciousness.

We are hoping that if he dies, he will keel over in the forest, so that we can just dig a hole and roll him into it.

I will miss him though, the big, dozy bastard.

Kats

STAMPING OUT CHRISTMAS

2005-11-01T17:11:00.000Z

This is the new 68pence Christmas stamp launched by the Post Office.

The first picture is Ganesh.

The stamp is a Hindu Artists version of the Madonna and Child.

The markings on the foreheads of the two adults in the painting represent a married Hindu woman and a Vaishnava Hindu.

I think it's a beautiful representation, but no, the Hindu Forum of Britain say it is disrespectful and insensitive to their needs.

I repeat, it was done by a Hindu Artist and hangs in a gallery in Mumbai. Perhaps the Hindu Forum should be approachiing the Artist instead.

But no, people have to jump up and down about the slightest thing and claim offence and disrespect as a way to be heard, like fractious children trying to get attention. It is just so boring and tedious.

We live in a multi-cultural society and this stamp is a good representation of a section of that society whilst celebrating the Christmas season.

At least the Post Office is standing it's ground and refusing to withdraw it.

Forum Spokesman Ramesh Kallidai said "It is only when images are used in a disrespectful and inappropriate way resulting in offence and hurt that we become concerned".

"This list is endless and Hindu images have been used on toilet seats, tissue paper. bikinis, shoes and other goods".

Blimey, who would want Ganesh superimposed onto the toilet seat?

Kats

GLUTEOUS MAXIMUS plus PERIPHERALS

2005-11-01T13:59:00.000Z

That's right, Bums. The modern world seems to have a fixation about bums and their connecting anatomy - bowels.

Once upon a time your bum, well, was just your bum. You used it for the purpose for which it was intended, kept it clean and forgot about it. Except of course the worry about the size of it. But I'm not discussing the aesthetics of my bum or yours.

Now it's targeted by the marketing gurus as fair game for getting you to part with your money. How low will they go (ha ha).

Toilet paper has become an art form. It's longer, thicker, softer - bears in the woods use it, Labrador puppies represent it, though I fail to see what a Labrador puppy has got to do with my bum or anyone Else's for that matter. Who in their right mind would train their Labrador puppy to unravel the toilet roll and wrap it round the furniture. Not the person who does the cleaning up, I can tell you.

Some is even reputed to contain a balm for your bum. If you are in the habit of having rather hot curries every night and suffering accordingly on a regular basis, I can perhaps see the need. Whats wrong with the shower though, and some proper ointment?

It comes in a variety of colours and designs - why, and what is the point, when it's chucked down the toilet after use.

Children now have their own toilet paper and expect a cartoon character to appear and applaud their genius when they manage to wipe their bum.

Then we come to the attached apparatus known as bowels, and in particular the obsession with the bacteria in our bowels. We have been convinced it needs topping up, unless we want to suffer dire consequences.

If we do drink the drink containing the bugs or eat the yogurt which contains some other strangely named little beasties, we'll have the uncontrollable urge to leap about, jump up in the air at every available opportunity and generally make fools of ourselves in public, and yes, pay for the experience.

People actually part with money to have a pipe shoved up their bum and have their innards washed out. I am amazed - why - because once many years ago I had to have a soap and water enema in hospital - same principle, and it is humiliating, painful, and no it certainly did not make me feel better, and someone who pays for that needs to seek help about their obsessive masochistic tendencies.

I hate the person who discovered that colonic irrigation was a way to make money, I wish I had thought of it, but while attached to that rubber pipe it would never have occurred to me in my wildest dreams.

Then we are hounded by William Shatner challenging us to feel better after eating a cereal good for our bowels. Some people just can't retire gracefully after trying to act, and not succeeding, and even bigger fools pay them.

Oh, I just can't be assed with all this crap.

Kats

OOOPS LEWIS LIBBY INDICTED

2005-10-29T15:06:00.000Z

COMPLAINTS

2005-10-29T09:37:00.000Z

These are allegedly quotes from letters sent to Islington Borough Council.

I want some repairs done to my cooker as it has backfired and burnt my knob off.

I wish to complain that my father hurt his ankle very badly when he put his foot in the hole in his back passage.

Their 18 year old son is continuously banging his balls against my fence.

I wish to report that tiles are missing from the roof of the outside toilet and I think it was bad wind the other night that blew them off.

The lavatory seat is cracked, where do I stand?I am writing on behalf of my sink which is coming away from the wall.

Will you please send someone to mend the garden path. My wife tripped and fell on it yesterday and now she is pregnant.

I request your permission to remove my drawers in the kitchen.

Can you please tell me when the repairs will be done as my wife is about to become an expectant mother.I am still having trouble with smoke in my built in drawers.

The toilet is blocked and we cannot bath the children until it is cleared.

Will you please send a man to look at my water, it is a funny colour and not fit to drink.

Our lavatory seat is broken in half and now it is in three pieces.

Would you please send a man to repair my sprout. I am an old age pensioner and need it straight away.

I want to complain about the farmer across the road; every morning at 6am his cock wakes me up and it's getting too much.

The man next door has a large erection in the back garden, which is unsightly and dangerous.

Our kitchen floor is damp. We have two children and would like a third so will you please send someone around to do something about it.

I am a single woman living in a downstairs flat and would be pleased if you could do something about the noise made by the man I have on top of me every night.

Please send a man with clean tools to finish the job and satisfy the wife.

I have had the Clerk of the Works down on the floor six times, but still have no satisfaction.

We are getting married in September and would like it in the garden before we move into the house.

This is to let you know that our lavatory seat is broken and we can't get BBC2.

Kats

"MAD DOGS" AND IRISHMEN

2005-10-28T14:17:00.000Z

Former Ulster Defence Association Paramilitary Johnny "Mad Dog" Adair today walked free from court after admitting assaulting his wife.

Adair, 42, drunkenly attacked Gina Adair hours after he was released from prison last month, Bolton Magistrates` Court heard. Karen Tong, prosecuting, said Adair was seen kneeling on his wife and "punching her repeatedly with both arms".

The couple, who have been married for 23 years and have four children, were walking home from a nearby pub after celebrating Adair`s release from prison on September 26.

I bet his wife heaved a sigh of relief when he went into prison for 39 days for harrassment.

A group of children and their parents playing football in the park reported seeing Adair dragging his wife by the hair as she tried to flee, Mrs Tong said.

Mr. Adair obviously needs to be on a continuous and hefty regime of sedatives.

Adair, formerly of Chorley New Road, Bolton, was made the subject of a 12-month community rehabilitation order. The Probation Service will supervise him one-on-one because he is not deemed suitable for group work. His new address was withheld by the court.

Do they fear for the group's safety?

Imposing the Community Rehabilitation Order, David Bonner, chairman of the bench, said: "This domestic violence offence is a very serious matter."

Greater Manchester Police Chief Superintendent Dave Lea said: "This incident is totally unacceptable and assaults of any type will not be tolerated by Greater Manchester Police, especially those assaults committed by those with whom you are entitled to feel safe.

You are joking? This animal should have received a good public flogging and been sent back in for another 39 days to give the poor woman a break.

Kats

MANIPULATION BY FEAR

2005-10-28T11:07:00.000Z

Yes, it's the F word again - Fear. Something that rules us all in some way or another.

I'm in the middle of (well, nearly finished) State of Fear by Michael Crighton, a work of fiction and a good yarn. The underlying theme of the book is that Global Warming is a fallacy and a form of social manipulation. The arguments contained within, and there are many, are backed up by authentic scientific research, in the form of footnotes directing the reader, if he wishes, to the appropriate scientific paper.

Mr. Crighton was called to a Senate Committee as a result of this book, where he explained that he is pointing out that scientific evidence is "cherry picked", sometimes as a form of manipulation. He called for a completely independant body to review all scientific evidence, no matter whether it is in agreement or not, and therefore presenting a balanced view to the public.

I'm not here to argue the facts regarding Global Warming, and whether he is right or not. Just that it is all part of the F word, and he's right, we don't receive a balanced view. It's infuriating.

This is from the book, but I have changed it from a dialogue to a statement:

The notion of social control. To the requirement of every sovereign state to exert control over the behaviour of it's citizens, to keep them orderly and docile. To keep them driving on the right side of the road, or the left, as the case may be. To keep them paying taxes. And of course, we know that social control is best managed by fear.

For fifty years western nations had maintained their citizens in a state of perpetual fear. Fear of the other side. Fear of nuclear war. The communist menace. The Iron Curtain. The Evil Empire. And within the Communist countries, the same in reverse. Fear of us. Then, suddenly, in the fall of 1989, it was all finished, gone. The fall of the Berlin Wall created a vacuum of fear. Nature abhors a vacuum, something had to fill it.

The environmental crisis took the place of the Cold War. Of course now we have radical fundamentalism and post 9/11 terrorism to make us afraid, and those are certainly real reasons for fear. But there is always a cause for fear. The cause may change over time, but the fear is always with us. Before terrorism we feared the toxic environment. Before that we had the Communist menace. Fear pervades society in all it's aspects. Perpetually.

Industrialised nations provide their citizens with unprecedented safety, health and comfort. Average life spans increased fifty percent in the last century. Yet modern people live in abject fear. They are afraid of strangers, of disease, of crime, of the environment. They are afraid of the homes they live in, the food they eat, the technology that surrounds them. They are in a particular panic over things they can't even see - germs, chemicals, additives, pollutants. They are timid, nervous, fretful and are convinced that the environment of the entire planet is being destroyed around them.

We inhabit the State of fear - How has that been accomplished? In the past citizens of the west believed their nation-states were dominated by something called the military-industrial complex. Eisenhower warned Americans against it in the 1960s, and after two world wars Europeans knew very well what it meant in their own countries. But the military-industrial complex is no longer the primary driver of society.

For the last fifteen years we have been under the control of an entirely new complex, far more powerful and far more pervasive. The politico-legal-media complex is dedicated to promoting fear in the population - under the guise of promoting safety.

People do not feel they are safe as a result of this. The politico-legal-media complex is powerful and stable, precisely because it unites so many institutions in society. Politicians need fears to control the population. Lawyers need danger to litigate, and make money. The media need scare stories to capture an audience. Together these three estates are so compelling that they can go about their business even if the scare is totally groundless or has no basis in fact at all.

Hmmmmmm.

Kats

CHICKENS

2005-10-27T21:22:00.000Z

I am now fuming over the sexual abuse allegations in Ireland. Surprised though? Of course not.

Instead of ranting here's a joke about it - I think I'm going onto the Vatican website to e-mail it.

The priest in a small Irish village loved the cock and
ten hens he kept in the hen house behind the church.
But one Saturday night the cock went missing!!
The priest knew that cock fights happened in the
village, so he started to question his parishioners in
the church the next morning..

During Mass, he asked the congregation, "Has anybody
got a cock?" All the men stood up.

No, no, he said, "that wasn't what I meant. Has
anybody seen a cock?" All the women stood up.

"No no," he said, "that wasn't what I meant. Has
anybody seen a cock that doesn't belong to them?" Half
the women stood up.

"No no," he said, "that wasn't what I meant. Has anybody
seen MY cock?" All the nuns, three alter boys, two priests,
and a goat stood up.

Kats:0)

FEAR IS THE KEY

2005-10-27T14:48:00.000Z

For several months now I have been living in a constant state of fear, which has resulted in me not recognising myself as the person I thought I was, or perhaps, and I think that this is probably the case, not recognising myself in the past and now, finally, as a result of shaking off the "business manager persona", swapping the stress of an 80 hour manic working week, for the stress of being on benefits and making ends meet, being allowed to be who I am. Does that make sense? No matter, it makes sense to me. The ends never meet incidentally, which is one aspect of the fear of course.

In my defence though, (and now I am wondering why I need to defend, but I've typed it so I'll leave it in, maybe one of the philosophers out there can enlighten me) I have never been a woman who "shops" and "lunches" or even "networked" to get on. I was very good at my job, got on with it, put everything I had into it, with great success, and stared in wonder at colleagues ingratiating themselves, sometimes to the point of humiliation, to their superiors in the business circle to get on and obviously believing that their self betrayal was justified and a means to an end (simpering twats). I think "brown nosing" is the expression - not guilty yer honour. If promotion and or recognition waved at me fine, if not, fine.

I also never had to browbeat people to produce results for me like some of my colleagues (be-suited harridans and Hitlers intent on feeding their own egos with a sense of power at the expense of the so called "indians"), which to me was evidence of their own lack of confidence, that only a mobile phone welded to one ear and an organiser in other could cure. Their attitude was a result of their fear, or is that far too lenient of me?

I was, however once accused of being weak for not having this trait and attitude, I was most upset at the time, but my integrity remained intact and I always produced the results. I walked away from that meeting whispering wanker! under my breath and carried on regardless. But nevertheless was frightened, in case I was wrong.

But the irony is, I still lived in a state of fear, the fear of not succeeding, the fear of downturns in business which I would be held personally responsible for, but was bugger all to do with me and had more to do with the weather, the economic climate , the colour of the Managing Director's underpants and a myriad of other obscure reasons beyond my control.

I joined another company for a job with more money, blah blah blah, even more stress and it folded within a year of me joining. Well that's the fear of a sense of failure and bad judgement smacking me in the chops for good measure. Go on world beat me, beat me!

More f*****g fear, and dealing with other people's fear while I made them redundant, hiding my fear so they wouldn't be more frightened. Frightening innit?

I started this post because a book I am reading got me thinking about fear and although a work of fiction has some quite profound observations about social fear. I think I'll save that one for the next post.

So, I hear you asking (?), would I go back to that life? The answer is a resounding NO. When I go back to work, which I will because I want to, I will be doing something entirely different.

Next episode tomorrow plus the joys of social fear.

Kats:0)

DEAD PARROT

2005-10-26T07:18:00.000Z

THE WILD PARROTS OF TELEGRAPH HILL

There has been a call for a world wide ban on the movement of live exotic birds for the pet trade, in an attempt to thwart the spread of Avian Flu.

Fair enough. But why is this barbaric trade still going on anyway. Yes, I know supply and demand, plus a fair measure of greed thrown in.

Anyone who keeps any kind of bird incarcerated in a cage for their personal pleasure should be ashamed of themselves.

Kats

JIHAD?- OH PLEASE!

2005-10-25T06:31:00.000Z

Some poor sod in the marketing department for Burger King is feeling the heat, after designing a swirly ice cream logo for the lid of a container.

I bet he sat there and thought yes! this is what I'll do today, I'll cause a Jihad because I'm bored with this shitty job and it's time someone noticed what a grand job I'm doing here. So, he got his copy of the Koran and searched for something in there that looked like a swirly ice cream, and lo and behold a Jihad. Job Done!

Mr. Akhatar, Burger King has apologised and spent lots of money pandering to your little tantrum. Get a life and move on for crying out loud. Oh, and I'd get my cholesterol levels checked if I were you.

THE fast-food chain, Burger King, is withdrawing its ice-cream cones after the lid of the dessert offended a Muslim.
The man claimed the design resembled the Arabic inscription for Allah, and branded it sacrilegious, threatening a "jihad".

The chain is being forced to spend thousands of pounds redesigning the lid with backing from The Muslim Council of Britain. It apologised and said: "The design simply represents a spinning ice-cream cone."
The offending lid was spotted in a branch in Park Royal last week by business development manager Rashad Akhtar, 27, of High Wycombe.
He was not satisfied by the decision to withdraw the cones and has called on Muslims to boycott Burger King. He said: "This is my jihad. How can you say it is a spinning swirl? If you spin it one way to the right you are offending Muslims."
A Muslim Council spokesman said: "We commend the sensitive and prompt action that Burger King has taken."

Kats

AND ANOTHER THING.......

2005-10-24T11:28:00.000Z

And another thing - don't even start me on that Tracy Enema and her filthy bed.

Kats:0(

IT'S BEYOND ME

2005-10-24T08:15:00.000Z

This giant egg slicer has been bought for £63,000 by the National Galleries of Scotland and is the work of Mona Hatoum.

"Her style is characterised by forms and materials that evoke feelings of intimacy and familiarity while simultaneously suggesting the possibility of danger. In Slicer, Hatoum massively enlarges an egg slicer so it is the perfect fit, not for an egg, but for a child. The sculpture alludes to the fragility of the human body."

What a pretentious load of shite!

So, I understand from this that Mona visualised a child being sliced like a hard boiled egg? Or am I missing some kind of arty farty psychology here, that being a member of the lowly public I couldn't possibly begin to understand?

It looks like a bloody great egg slicer to me. The feelings it invokes in me are:

It wouldn't fit in my kitchen cupboard and where would I get an egg that big to fit and what the hell will I boil it in when I find it.

There again, I could put George Bush in it - now, that's a thought, or even the Pope.

If our Mona is thinking such strange thoughts perhaps she should seek help from the nearest trick cyclist

£63000?? Give me a break!

I did visit the famous "Pile of Bricks" at the Tate many years ago. Never let it be said that I won't give it a go in the flesh so to speak. It looked like a bloody great pile of bricks to me - arranged very neatly.

Kats

ALL YOUR FAULT COLCAM

2005-10-23T14:25:00.000Z

COLCAM has just had the audacity to mention the Conservative leadership election...............and put me right off my Sunday lunch! (bread and dripping, as I am also unemployed) - so I dedicate this silliness to you Colcam!

There is too much misery going on in this world, so here is something else to amuse you until I can get my brain into gear and "rite sumthink proppa".

Enjoy:

Subject: History as seen by children

The following are actual answers given on history tests and in Sunday school quizzes by children between 5th and 6th grade, in Ohio. They were collected over a period of three years by two teachers.

Ancient Egypt was old. It was inhabited by gypsies and mummies who all wrote in hydraulics. They lived in the Sarah Dessert. The climate of the Sarah is such that all the inhabitants have to live elsewhere.

Moses led the Hebrew slaves to the Red Sea where they made unleavened bread, which is bread made without any ingredients. Moses went up on Mount Cyanide to get the ten commandos. He died before he ever reached Canada but his commandos made it.

Solomon had three hundred wives and seven hundred porcupines. He was an actual hysterical figure as well as being in the bible. It sounds like he was sort of busy too.

The Greeks were a highly sculptured people, and without them we wouldn't have history. The Greeks also had myths. A myth is a young female moth.

Socrates was a famous old Greek teacher who went around giving people advice. They killed him. He later died from an overdose of wedlock which is apparently poisonous. After his death, his career suffered a dramatic decline.

In the first Olympic games, Greeks ran races, jumped, hurled biscuits, and threw the java. The games were messier then than they show on TV now.

Julius Caesar extinguished himself on the battlefields of Gaul. The Ides of March murdered him because they thought he was going to be made king. Dying, he gasped out "Same to you, Brutus."

Joan of Arc was burnt to a steak and was canonized by Bernard Shaw for reasons I don't really understand. The English and French still have problems.

Queen Elizabeth was the "Virgin Queen". As a queen she was a success.> When she exposed herself before her troops they all shouted "hurrah!" and that was the end of the fighting for a long while.

It was an age of great inventions and discoveries. Gutenberg invented removable type and the Bible. Another important invention was the> circulation of blood.

Sir Walter Raleigh is a historical figure because he invented cigarettes and started smoking.

Sir Francis Drake circumcised the world with a 100 foot clipper which was very dangerous to all his men.

The greatest writer of the Renaissance was William Shakespeare. He was born in the year 1564, supposedly on his birthday. He never made much money and is famous only because of his plays. He wrote tragedies, comedies, and hysterectomies, all in Islamic pentameter.

Writing at the same time as Shakespeare was Miguel Cervantes. He wrote Donkey Hote. The next great author was John Milton. Milton wrote Paradise Lost. Since then no one ever found it.

Contented Congress. Thomas Jefferson, a Virgin, and Benjamin Franklin were two singers of the Declaration of Independence. Franklin discovered electricity by rubbing two cats backward and also declared, "A horse divided against itself cannot stand." He was a naturalist for sure. Franklin died in 1790 and is still dead.

Abraham Lincoln became America's greatest Precedent. Lincoln's Mother died in infancy, and he was born in log cabin which he built with his own hands. Abraham Lincoln freed the slaves by signing the Emasculation Proclamation. On the night of April 14, 1865, Lincoln went to the theater and got shot in his seat by one of the actors in a moving picture show. They believe the assinator was John Wilkes Booth, a supposingly insane actor. This ruined Booth's career.

Johann Bach wrote a great many musical compositions and had a large number of children. In between he practiced on an old spinster which he kept up in his attic. Bach died from 1750 to the present. Bach was the most famous composer in the world and so was Handel. Handel was half German, half Italian, and half English. He was very large.

Bethoven wrote music even though he was deaf. He was so deaf that he wrote loud music and became the father of rock and roll. He took long walks in the forest even when everyone was calling for him. Beethoven expired in 1827 and later died for this.

The nineteenth century was a time of a great many thoughts and inventions. People stopped reproducing by hand and started reproducing by machine. The invention of the steamboat caused a network of rivers to spring up.

Cyrus McCormick invented the McCormick raper, which did the work of a hundred men.
Louis Pasteur discovered a cure for rabbits but I don't know why.

Charles Darwin was a naturalist. He wrote the Organ of the Species. It was very long and people got upset about it and had trials to see if it was really true. He sort of said God's days were not just 24 hours but without watches who knew anyhow? I don't get it.

Madman Curie discovered radio. She was the first woman to do what she did. Other women have become scientists since her but they didn't get to find radios because they were already taken.

Karl Marx was one of the Marx Brothers. The other three were in the movies. Karl made speeches and started revolutions. Someone in the family had to have a job, I guess.

Kats:0)

AND ON A LIGHTER NOTE.....

2005-10-22T16:13:00.000Z

My blogging is becoming far too serious of late, so, on a lighter note.......

Bet some of these remind you of a few people....

For everyone who has ever had or given an evaluation - just remember, it could have been worse. These are actual quotes taken from employee performance evaluations:

1. "Since my last report, this employee has reached rock-bottom and has started to dig."

2. "I would not allow this employee to breed."

3. "This employee is really not so much of a has-been, but more of a definite won't be."

4. "Works well when under constant supervision and cornered like a rat in a trap."

5. "When she opens her mouth, it seems that it is only to change feet."

6. "This young lady has delusions of adequacy."

7. "He sets low personal standards and then consistently fails to achieve them."

8. "This employee is depriving a village of it's idiot."

9. "This employee should go far, and the sooner he starts, the better."

10. "Got a full 6-pack, but lacks the plastic thingy to hold it all together."

11. "A gross ignoramus -- 144 times worse than an ordinary ignoramus."

12. "He doesn't have ulcers, but he's a carrier."

13. "He's an absolute tosser......., pity his father wasn't"

14. "His body is here, but the mind's in limbo"

15. "He's been working with glue too much."

16. "He would argue with a signpost."

17. "He brings a lot of joy whenever he leaves the room."

18. "When his IQ reaches 50, he should sell."

19. "If you see two people talking and one looks bored, he's the other one."

20. "A photographic memory........ but the lens cover is glued on."

21. "A prime candidate for natural de-selection."

22. "Donated his brain to science before he was done using it."

23. "Gates are down, the lights are flashing, but the train isn't coming."

24. "He's got two brains cells, one is lost and the other is out looking for it."

25. "If he were any more stupid, he'd have to be watered twice a week."

26. "If you gave him a penny for his thoughts, you'd get change."

27. "If you stand close enough to him, you can hear the ocean."

28. "It's hard to believe he beat out 1,000,000 other sperm."

29. "One neuron short of a synapse."

30. "Some drink from the fountain of knowledge; he only gargled."

31. "Takes him 2 hours to watch '60-minutes'."

32. "The wheel is turning, but the hamster is dead"

Kats

WILL WE NEVER LEARN?

2005-10-21T09:47:00.000Z

A man on Lagoa dos Reis paddles across a blanket of dead and dying fish. Photograph: Marcio Silva/AP

So, it's been discovered, again, that theAmazon Rainforest is disappearing at twice the rate as was previously thought. Six thousand square miles of forest lost every year and a 25% increase in greenhouse gasses caused by festering vegetation left behind. As for the effect on wildlife, the photo says far more than I ever could, it's pretty obscene isn't it?

It must be nearly 20 years ago that Sting appeared on television with Terry Wogan and a bemused looking Amazonian Tribal Chief. A huge publicity campaign ensued, highlighting the plight of native Amazonian tribes and the effects of deforestation on their way of life and the surrounding environment. Not to mention the knock on effect to the rest of the world as the "lungs" of the planet are slowly excised at an alarming rate. Where did all that hoo hah go, and what good did it do?

Perhaps the lures of Tantric Sex (whatever that may be) became too much to resist for Mr. Sting.

The world is in a panic over the imminent arrival of a bird flu pandemic.

The planet already suffers from a destructive pandemic - it's called the Human Race.

Kats

TASTE OF THE HIGHLANDS

2005-10-19T07:30:00.000Z

Taken by "him indoors" when he was outdoors.

THE AMERICAN TALIBAN

2005-10-18T11:32:00.000Z

Call it a new, 11th Commandment: “Thou shalt not advertise” if the religious primitives smell sin.

You know how it is when you start to read an article and end up clicking on the links provided
for other information or points of view.

Well this morning was one of those occasions. I have just spent the last three hours flitting about from link to link with morbid fascination. Each leap from website to website, caused my mouth to open wider and wider, not to mention the expletives coming out in disbelief. In fact I feel a chill in my heart and a sense of dread at the insidiousness of a campaign being conducted in America, with great success.

Spurred on by a biblical injunction evangelicals call “The Great Commission,” and emboldened by George W. Bush’s re-election, which is perceived as a “mandate from God,” the Christian right has launched a series of boycotts and pressure campaigns aimed at corporate America — and at its sponsorship of entertainment, programs and activities the Christers don’t like.

Proctor and Gamble, a corporate giant, has pulled millions of dollars in advertising from TV shows such as Will and Grace and Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. Even firing an Executive employee for connections to a bill in Ohio regarding discrimination of gays.

Proctor and Gamble have privately acknowledged "that the groups have turned out to be larger, better funded, better organized and more sophisticated than the company had imagined."

Desperate Housewives has lost advertising revenue from several large companies because it is deemed salacious. Even Southpark has had ads pulled.

Nissan, Goodyear, Castrol, Kraft, Johnson, Hasbro and even Microsoft have back pedalled on advertising and sponsorship as a result of threats of boycotts and pressure.

Even the New York Times has bowed to pressure:

By consistently framing the issue as a civil rights matter — gays fighting for the right to be treated like everyone else — we failed to convey how disturbing the issue is in many corners of American social, cultural, and religious life.” Oh, “disturbing” to whom? Why, to the Christers, of course — whose e-mail complaint campaigns against the Times are legion: It’s the paper the fundamentalists love to hate. So why is the Times — one of the few newspapers in the latest available study of circulation released earlier this year to significantly increase circulation rather than lose it — feeling the need to kowtow to the religious opponents of gay marriage? The paper’s willingness to do so is about as frightening a testimony to creeping theocracy as one could imagine.

Behind it all is the AFA (American Family Association), whose name should be changed, in my opinion anyway, to American Fascists Association.

Their website supposedly aims to preach family values within a christian doctrine, but instead preaches intolerance, and narrow mindedness to a frightening degree, considering the power they are wielding within the corporate structure of America. This power comes from the sheer number of active members of this society.

The Rev. Donald E. Wildmon is the Chairman of the AFA, and if ever there was a case for the appearance of the "anti-Christ" on earth he is it.

The article that I have pulled quotes from has cited the 1950's witchhunt of communists in America, a reign of terror, which started in much the same way, and which lasted for a quarter of a century and lasted another 18 years after Senator Joe McCarthy was dead and buried.

All this could be described as the "Pandora's Box" which Bush has allowed, or should I say encouraged to be opened.

Scary stuff. I wonder how long it will be before it creeps into Britain?

Kats

AMEN

2005-10-15T14:22:00.000Z

Enough said

IF YOU LOOK A BIT FOREIGN READ THIS

2005-10-14T12:59:00.000Z

Photographed at Nottinghill Gate Tube Station.

LIVE BAIT CONCERT

2005-10-14T09:57:00.000Z

Catholic Church records in Los Angeles show that for decades priests accused of child sex abuse were moved to new assignments or given counselling.

The personnel records of the clergymen accused have just been released as part of settlement talks with lawyers in the case.

They show that for more than 70 years, the Church provided therapy to clergymen accused of abusing children, believing that they could be rehabilitated.

The Church then assigned the priests to new parishes, which often resulted in them re-offending.

One priest, who eventually confessed to having molested as many as 10 victims over 20 years, was only removed from the priesthood after several unsuccessful attempts at therapy.

You (the, people in our society with a sense of outrage) are cordially invited to a week long event, well, as long as you like really, bring your own refreshments. The venue will be St. Peter's Square (that'll be just outside the Pratigan). The date is to be arranged, but as soon as possible would be a bonus.

Those persons of a gay persuasion are particularly welcome, if only to demonstrate, by your actions that to be Gay does not automatically make you a paedophile.

Those members of the clergy who have been exposed (if you'll pardon the expression) during the investigation into child abuse, will be rounded up, like the animals they are.

The National Press and television are to be invited, and the event will be beamed across the world, simultaneously, so no-one will miss the point, and we don't want to disappoint those who can't make it.

I'm thinking of calling this event "Live Bait". Other suggestions are most welcome.

The said priests will be asked to strip naked and will stand in St. Peter's Square, Christ on a bike, I hope there's enough room. The sadistic side of me is toying with the idea of penis rings manufactured in the tasteful style and authentic materials of a crown of thorns. No, I have not even considered donkeys.

The crowd are invited to humiliate them in any way they choose, but violence, sexual or otherwise is NOT permitted - two wrongs don't make a right. (bring your own eggs, tar and feathers).

The Pompous (oops sorry, I meant Pope) and his acolytes will gather in the square at a time to be arranged and publicly grovel and apologise to the world. Allowing use of condoms would be a nice starting gesture.

The untold riches held by this institution will be sequestrated and used to erase poverty and the misery that goes with it in the third world.

Meanwhile back at Live Bait Headquarters, (my kitchen table) an island is to be found far, far away from so called civilisation. Uninhabited of course and of the type on which no-one in their right mind would even consider making a home .

The Beasts (slipped again, Priests) will again be rounded up, after the crowd has got bored and gone home, and shipped off to said island. They will be provided with all the basic things (out of the Pratigan's fat over bloated purse) they need to allow them to build accommodation, rudimentary of course, start off their crops and find fresh water in the deadly snake infested jungle of the interior. The beach will have to be pebbly, none of that nice comfy sand.

There will be a 10 mile exclusion zone around this island, which will be heavily mined.

The twat who thinks this will make a good fly on the wall documentary will be made to go and live with them minus his camcorder. However I'm sure Sue Lawley would love to put him on Desert Island Discs as a farewell gesture, but only if he/she says sorry, unless he's also a paedophile of course, where henceforth all privileges will be removed. No, I said privileges, not privates.

And there we have it. They can fondle each other in Purgatory (sorry, forgot to tell you that's the new name of the Island) for eternity for all I care.

Eat your heart out Bob Geldof.

Kats

ME, ME, ME

2005-10-13T10:57:00.000Z

Every morning around 5 - 6am I stumble downstairs, greet the dog, put the kettle on, switch on the lap-top, make some tea, light a fag, and settle down to trawl the online newspapers that have been delivered in the wee hours. I don't sleep very well, it drives me nuts, so at about 5am I give up the fight. However I do enjoy the solitude.

Incidentally, I have an appointment with the doctor today. I ran out of sleeping pills a month ago, they said they don't prescribe them on a regular basis. So I thought, OK we'll see what happens. If he won't give me any today I'll probably leap on him like a screaming banshee, perhaps not, maybe pathetic begging will work. Tried over the counter Nytol, but can't walk in a straight line for half the day. There's me gone off on a bloody tangent again, that's what tossing and turning all night does for you.

This morning, there was the inspiration for my next blog, and that got me thinking. Why? Because it's to do with religion and the Catholic Church. Also I usually blog about things that get up my nose - big time. Not always though. The other thing that takes me over is a vivid imagination and the desire to make a mockery, whilst I hope, making a serious point, err sometimes.

Anyway as I said I got to thinking (no mean task at 5 am).

I didn't have a religious upbringing, in any way. I was not christened and remember my Father saying that when I was old enough to understand then it would be my decision. My Grandmother sent me to Sunday School a few times and I even joined the Church Choir, but I never associated any of it with God, Jesus or any other aspect of Christianity. It was just something to do with people I knew, the chance of a day out and free cakes.

As a consequence, I am bemused and sometimes amazed at the blind faith in God, heaven, hell and all the other strange aspects of Christianity. None of it makes sense to me and I can't find any logic to it either. Many people would beg to differ.

I am very grateful to my Father for his attitude, for not bogging me down with the guilt associated with religion and the fear I know some people experience, of the consequences of their actions.

So, why do I keep bashing the Catholics - because I cannot abide hypocrisy and injustice in any form, and this institution seems to be pretty adept at perpetuating it.

So, I have to do another blog on them next. But, I'll go for a walk in the woods with the dog, watch the stags and look for red squirrels, that's as near to any kind of religion I can get.

Kats

FLIGHT OF FANCY

2005-10-13T06:44:00.000Z

No matter how hard you try George, you aint gonna live this one down.

Kats

ANTI CHAIN LETTER

2005-10-11T17:40:00.000Z

Received this in my e-mail today, and just had to share it.

Hello, my name is Lewis and I suffer from the guilt of not forwarding 50 billion f*cking chain letters sent to me by people who actually believe that if you send them on, a poor 6-year-oldgirl in Arkansas with a breast on her forehead will be able to raise enough money to have it removed before her redneck parents sell her to a travelling freak show.

Do you honestly believe that Bill Gates is going to give you, and everyone to whom you send "his" email, $1000?

How stupid are we?"Ooooh, looky here! If I scroll down this page and make a wish, I'll get laid by a model I just happen to run into the next day!"

What a bunch of bullsh*t.

Maybe the evil chain letter leprechauns will come into my house and sodomize me in my sleep for not continuing a chain letter that was started by Peter in 5AD and brought to this country by midget pilgrims on the Mayflower.

F*ck 'em.

If you're going to forward something, at least send me something mildly amusing. I've seen all the "send this to 10 of your closest friends, and this poor, wretched excuse for a human being will somehow receive a nickel from some omniscient being", forwards about 90 times.

I don't f*cking care.

Show a little intelligence and think about what you're actually contributing to by sending out these forwards. Chances are, it's our own unpopularity.

The point being?

If you get some chain letter that's threatening to leave you shagless or luckless for the rest of your life, delete it. If it's funny, send it on. Don't p*ss people off by making them feel guilty about a leper in Botswana with no teeth who has been tied to the ass of a dead elephant for 27 years and whose only salvation is the 5 cents per letter he'll receive if you forward this email.

Now forward this to everyone you know. Otherwise, tomorrow morning your underwear will turn carnivorous and will consume your genitals.

Have a nice day.

PS. Send me 15 quid...

Thank you Karen, for contributing to my blog and brightening up my day.

Kats

DOG'S TESTICLES, PENGUIN POO AND EXPLODING TROUSERS

2005-10-11T13:30:00.000Z

Last night at Harvard University a ceremony was held amongst the scientific community.

It's purpose to give out "Ig Nobel" prizes which honour research which makes people laugh and then makes them think.

It's sure made me think:

How much funding has been diverted into this crap at the expense of viable, life enhancing or even life saving research?

The winners

Physics:
John Mainstone and the late Thomas Parnell of the University of Queensland, for an experiment that began in the year 1927, in which a glob of congealed black tar has been slowly dripping through a funnel at a rate of around one drop every nine years.

(a new take on "watching paint dry" I suppose)

Medicine:
Greg A Miller of Missouri for inventing Neuticles - artificial replacement testicles for dogs

(this, apparently is a replacement for neutered dogs, to make them look "normal again"- only in America)

Literature:
The internet entrepreneurs of Nigeria, for using email to distribute a bold series of short stories, thus introducing millions of readers to a cast of rich characters, each of whom requires just a small amount of money so as to obtain access to the great wealth they will share with you.

(yes, we've all had these, maybe they deserve a prize for persistence and stupidity. I wonder if anyone ever fell for it?)

Peace:
Claire Rind and Peter Simmons of Newcastle University for electrically monitoring the activity of a locust's brain cell while it was watching selected highlights from the film Star Wars.

(Claire and Peter, try sex, it's much more exciting)

Biology:
An international team of scientists and perfumiers for smelling and cataloguing the peculiar odours produced by 131 different species of frogs when the frogs were feeling stressed.

(Now I know why I hate Calvin Klein perfume)

Economics:
Gauri Nanda of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, for inventing an alarm clock that runs away and hides, thus ensuring that people get out of bed, theoretically adding many productive hours to the work day.

(Nice try, but I can sleep through mine, but I would like one please, for the entertainment value)

Nutrition:
Yoshiro Nakamats of Tokyo for photographing and then analysing every meal he has eaten over 34 years.

(A True Anorak, hopefully photographed before digestion took place)

Chemistry:
Edward Cussler of the University of Minnesota and Brian Gettelfinger of the University of Minnesota and the University of Wisconsin, for settling the scientific question: can people swim faster in syrup or in water?

(Does it matter?)

Agricultural history:
James Watson of Massey University, New Zealand, for his scholarly study, The Significance of Mr Richard Buckley's Exploding Trousers.

(Mr Buckley must be a good candidate to try out the artificial testicles)

Fluid dynamics:
Victor Benno Meyer-Rochow of International University Bremen, Germany, and the University of Oulu, Finland; and Jozsef Gal of Lorand Eotvos University, Hungary, for using basic principles of physics to calculate the pressure that builds up inside a penguin, as detailed in their report Pressures Produced When Penguins Pooh - Calculations on Avian Defecation.

(I cannot begin to imagine)

Kats

FIRST CHRISTMAS JOKE

2005-10-10T14:26:00.000Z

WALLACE AND GROMMIT

2005-10-10T12:20:00.000Z

Don't you just love em!