Suicide is painless

Intermission

Sorry, I know I haven't made a post for a while - still horribly busy at work.

I will try and update you in the very near future.

In the meantime, here is a picture of a bunny with a pancake on its head.

Calamity Jean

Well, I haven't posted for most of this week because I have been totally bum-fucked on the hours I've been working. Some cretin decided to change the shifts around and as a result I've been working like a Japanese prisoner-of-war.

However, because I was working, I did get to witness one of the funniest sights I have seen in ages last night:

I was just leaving one of my clients sites, and was turning onto one of the main thoroughfares in Northern Paris. I had to wait for a second to allow a Belgian (he had to be Belgian didn't he? You couldn't make this up) articulated lorry to go past, a sight that is altogether rare on that road - you don't get too many of them.

I was pondering this while driving behind him, and then realised - of course, you don't get too many artics here because OH MY GOD THAT BRIDGE IS TOO LOW!!

So there I am, swerving and flashing my lights and beeping my horn trying to make this dozy git aware of the impending doom but he was having none of it. Just when I decided to just relax and enjoy the show, I realised that I was in immediate danger of being vehicle no.1 in the mother of all traffic jams. As a result I immediately broke about 12 traffic laws to swerve my (smaller) lorry to go past him. Whilst I was doing so, I was shouting and frantically pointing above his lorry hoping he would get the idea. No such luck. He was no doubt thinking "those crazy English, always talking about the weather".

Once safely past I slowed down in the tunnel, wound my window down to receive the full aural experience, and waited.......

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. First there was a scraping noise. Then his lorry shuddered a little. Then an almighty BANG! and the wonderful sight of plastic, metal and bits of lorry flying everywhere. Then, finally, he stopped (probably less out of choice than of physics).

I thought I was going to crap I was laughing so much. Once I had calmed down I got out of my lorry to see if I could help, but it was obvious that he was going to be there a while. However, he looked so much like a 70's porn star that I had to hang around for a bit on the off-chance that a couple of buxom blondes would arrive and seductively ask if we "needed help to free our lorry". Unfortunately that didn't transpire, but rest assured this made my evening a much happier one and there were smiles every time I thought about it.

It's a trap!

You'll never guess what I did today?

Yep, shopping. What the hell have I done to deserve this? I woke up feeling like a barn thats just been fumigated and the next thing I know Mrs Ribby has tricked me into being in Ikea. That's just taking advantage that is. However, I did find that a McDonalds McFlurry is a superb hangover cure - it seemed to almost freeze the pain away - and it's cheaper than those cool patch things.

Anyway, Ikea. I know I have been promising to lambast this place for a while, so I may as well do a bit of it now.

It seems to have been designed by the same person that both designs maximum security prisons and garden mazes. From the moment you walk in it's like you have all sense of reality stripped away, along with your sense of direction.

The problem is, it's impossible to actually go to Ikea to buy something in particular. Even if you know what you want to buy you still have to walk round the whole store (both floors), surrounded by people from about 120 different countries (believe me, it's like the UN), screaming children throwing things and tripping you up, and some trailer-park types with zero tolerance for taste.

Round and round in circles you go, and then you realise that you've walked past what you want to buy. You ever tried going against the flow in Ikea? Give it a try one time - it's like walking into a Force 5 gale.

I'm just fed up with the place. I always end up with 3 things I don't want, all called Skjoplie or something, and then I have to queue for an hour to buy them.

As a result I spent the afternoon throwing back beer, which has contributed to my now befuddled state of mind.

'night.

Revamp (Or how I learned to hate HTML and love the pub)

OK, the revamp. It failed.

I tried - but I got lost in a shitload of horrible HTML code and in the end just simply gave up, except for updating the title. I think I will change and update my web links and games, so make sure you keep an eye on them - after all, these are the places I spend a large part of my life, so they can't be all that bad.

The missus has gone to sleep, so you will never guess what I'm going to do now?

That was a very good try, but in fact I'm going to the pub again - but I will do your suggestion when I get home.

Shopping.

I've had enough of it for today.

I'm going to the pub. Keep your eyes peeled for a Rib Shack revamp - I think it needs it.

She's not even Greek

I was watching the opening ceremony to the Olympics, as I do every 4 years, and I must admit it was an excellent show. Not quite as good as the one in Syndey mind, and I was always partial to the one in Barcelona (mostly because it had this brunette in a short skirt who was quite a little bit saucy - was very glad I recorded that one).

The real problem with the Athens ceremony was that just prior to the raising of the Olympic flag and the lighting of the flame, there was a famous *singer* performing (when I say performing, she was actually very clearly miming her way through it).

Who was it? I hear you cry. Actually maybe not, cos you probably watched it too. But if you didn't (Phut), it was Bjork. Yes, Bjork. That silly Icelandic witch who has no talent. What the bloody hell was she doing there? Amazing.

Anyway, here comes two weeks of drug-assisted feats of pharmaceutical endurance, and I for one am looking forward to it. I just hope nobody Italian wins a gold medal - it's bad enough listening to that stupid diddly-diddly national anthem after every Grand Prix, I think I'll go postal if I hear it at the games as well.

Thats it for now, and just remember children:

Arguing on the internet is just like competing in the Special Olympics - even if you win, you're still retarded.

Havin' a ball

Tonight, we will be mainly talking about baseball. In fact only about one thing in baseball, and even that will be pretty short.

However, something happened that has actually amazed me - I think it's very cool. In last nights game between the LA Dodgers and the Cincinnati Reds, Adam Dunn did something pretty spectacular.

He hit a home run. That in itself is nothing particularly special I admit, but this was a thundering, enormous home run. It cleared the stadium, bounced off a street and ended up in the Ohio River. Still nothing special? Fair enough. Apart from the fact it's the teams longest ever home run, it was made great by the simple fact that the Ohio River is in Kentucky. Yes, thats right, he hit a home run out of the fucking state. Now that is cool.

On a side note from that game - LA Dodgers pitcher Jose Lima. Everyones heard of him - but have you seen the size of his wifes tits?



Bet that kid wishes he was standing on Joses other side.

Wack the Iraq

Contrary to Phuts belief that the residents of the Garden State are singularly inoffensive people, I now have evidence that they aren't.

Coming from a town called Wildwood, NJ, a scant 10 miles down the road from where Phut lives is a new boardwalk game. Skeeball? It's worse than that.

Devised in the heat of battle fever no doubt, is the new game of "Wack the Iraq" where customers fire paintball games at real people dressed as Iraqis:



Could this be any more offensive? Is America really at war with the Iraqi people? (Bush claims otherwise). Do you care?

Fair play to them though - they have anticipated the complaints and put up a disclaimer sign:



I'm sure he is upset - once he recovers from his "chest pains" I'm sure he will have his defence lawyers right on it.

Unhappy coincidence? Hardcore fuckerz.

Well ,we have just returned from a weekend at the in-laws place in Brittany, NorthWest France and a superb weekend was had by all.

By all, I am referring to me. And perhaps the other half, whose Saturday evening was so good that it's contents ended up in a toilet bowl. Ah well, kids today eh? At least I wasn't expected to wake up and hold her hair.

However, the most disturbing part of the weekend was thus:

We were at an 18th birthday party on Saturday night, and in my drunken haze I saw a large shaven gentleman who I swore I recognised. The missus was cutting a rug on the dance floor, so I swayed over to investigate.

I was tactfully intercepted by what I believe was his daughter, and whilst speaking to her I pointed out that I was pretty sure I had met this guy at a previous party. She indicated that this was not the case as I had not met this part of the family before (although, worringly, they knew who I was).

I said I found this strange as I was certain I had seen thig chap before. She then said "Oh, he works in Paris, perhaps you know him from there" This was a surprise considering our distance from said city, but she may well have hit the nail on the head.

"It's possible I suppose, I have met a lot of people since working here. What exactly is it your dad does - I probably met him through work."

"He's a traffic cop"

Arse. Now that is a shitty coincidence.

Also, the hardcore fuckerz part refers to perhaps the most dogged attempt at graffiti I have ever seen. This morning, while on the high speed train back to Paris. I saw these words written on the side of a factory. Not all that special, I hear you cry - until you take note of the fact it is not is the native language, and it actually covered the entire side of the factory. I'm honestly guessing that these letters were 40 feet high. I would have taken a photo, but, as is the nature of high speed trains (except in England) we went too fast and I missed it.

However, it was incredible. It must have taken at least 5 tins of paint and an enourmous ladder. They have truly risen the bar for paint sprayers everywhere.

Sporadic posting and the Japs

Well I'm back up to full speed now after over a week of non-posting.

This has been mainly to laziness, drinking and a heavy pornography habit.

This made me think of something. When you have a particular preference for something or you do it a lot, there are many expressions that can be used, however, the one that seems to be used most with porn is "to have a yen for pornography". Now I'm not 100% sure if it's a coincidence that the yen of course is the currency of Japan, and that the Nips have a very strong streak of perversion (yeah I know it's a stereotype, but it's my bloody website so hate mail to the normal address).

This also made me think that it could be extended to other activites. The one of course that immediately sprung to mind was "a bent for bumfoolery". Can YOU think of any others? Let me know....

I have a thousand things running through my mind so I will be making about 3 posts a day now to make up for it. I will be right back after these messages..