Mujibar

Since becoming so successful at the Call Centre, Mujibar has gone into business for himself.

Old Sod Rest Home

Jacob, age 92, and Rebecca, age 89 had lived at Old Sods for a number of years, and had fallen in love. Deciding to 'tie the knot', they are all excited about their decision to get married. They go for a stroll to discuss the wedding and on the way they pass a chemist. Jacob suggests they go in.
Jacob addresses the man behind the counter: "Are you the owner?"
The pharmacist answers "Yes".
Says Jacob: "We're about to get married. Do you sell heart medication?"
Pharmacist: "Of course we do."
Jacob: "How about medicine for circulation?"
"All kinds."
"Medicine for rheumatism, scoliosis?"
"Definitely."
"How about Viagra?"
"Of course."
"Medicine for memory lapses, arthritis, jaundice?"
"Yes, a large variety. The works."
"What about vitamins, sleeping pills, Lucozade, antidotes for Parkinson's disease?"
"Absolutely."
"You sell wheelchairs and Zimmer frames?"
"All speeds and sizes."
Jacob turns to Rebecca and says "I think this one will do."
"Excuse me Sir" say the Chemist, "Are you wanting any of the items you mentioned?"
"Not at the moment, but we want to recommend your shop on our wedding present list."

Sven and Olly

Sven meets Olly. "Where you been Olly?"

"Tomorrow Lana's birthday. I say I buy present. She say she want something with lots ov diamonds. I go to jewelry shop but things wiv lots ov diamonds cost much money.

Then I have idea, and I go to toy shop."

"So what you get at toy shop wiv lots ov diamonds?"

"A deck of cards!"

Bloody IST

To recap what this is all about, I was challenged by Amber to define IST. She expected a definition, but I went for the more loose usage as being defined, or shown. She has now read it and her retort was 'pure poetry'. I have to admit it is quite inventive.
Well I 'as ta say, I duzn't understan' it. It don't make sense.
It isn't written to make actual sense Clive, although it has to have some sort of flow. Surely you have heard of Edward Lear, perhaps the most well-known exponent of nonsense writing.
Naw.
Oh well, never mind. I'll just leave it for the readers to formulate their own opinions.

IST defined.

A linguistic ventriloquist christened Elvis Tolstoy - he a Pakistani spiritualist and diarist who wrote Existence on the Piste insisted he enlist the assistance of Maori stagehand, Christopher T. Semisteen. Chris T. was a disturbed taxidermist, but formerly a Methodist zucchini stacker in Istanbul, and sophisticated magistrate in Fiji, Stockholm and Bristol, 'Whistling' Chris T. now is trading as an unregistered tattooist and distinguished distributor of existentialist logistics.

In the Paris Two iis (that is to say - 2IIs) Teahouse they met an egotistical Bolshevist and antihistamine biochemist Mavis Tarragon (Mavi) and her sinister Calvinist barrister, Gemini Stoutheart. Wearing his tsunami stetson. he drove a hedonist, pre-existant Hyundi station wagon and characteristically carried a Scotch-mist registered pistol in his trouser waistband.

Mavi, stepsister to both Wallis 'Ted is Tops' Poltergeist, who, reputedly, is the Memphis terrorist, and, the
undstiinguished Israeli statistician, Rabbi Stool-Piston chose the Ben Nevis tapa selection, with mistletoe pistils
followed by simplistic pastrami strudel and cannabis tart.

Not being a conformist lover of ravioli, Stoutheart, (who, militaristically is tight-fisted) went for specialist haggis
triangles with non-sexist tandoori straws. Conscious of his thick waistline, to follow he, (mistakenly) chose Christmas thistle and piccalilli stroganoff.

Off the wine list he blacklisted the piece de resistance - the Chablis (twenty euros a bottle) insisting on a misty ballistic, almost masochistic Bangladeshi Stalactite Beaujolais (ten euros a time).

Mavi's thin Basenji, Stephen desisted from his testicle moistening, becoming unable to resist the prehistoric fungi
stir-fried-in-martini starter, followed by chilli stalks and spaghetti stew with pistachio chapattis. Tasty! "So, Sadistic Rapist and Kuwaiti Stud, Elvis, tell us about the redistribution of royalist wisteria in Afghanistan," said
Mavis, temptingly.

His tremor resistance almost in metamorphosis took over the unresisting conversationalist, "Ah that indistinct
isthmus. Aristocratic territory indeed," Elvis thundered. "Where philistine shop assistants persist with their touristy
holistic to-do lists. Materialistic traditionalists all, resistant to tennis tournaments in Nairobi, Strasbourg and Pakistan. I struggle to listen to their realist nonexistent and unregistered NAAFI staircase surrealist hoi polloi stage-crafting.

Time was Hawaii stood where irresistible Tripoli stands today, listing like a multi-storey protagonist with trellis tentacles. Such is the Nazi standpoint."

Chris tactlessly mistook Mavis' tartan Gladioli stretch marks for antistatic aspidistra blisters. "You're a Trappist rip-off artiste," he screamed, his tonsillitis throat registering unmistakable wistful palais tantrums.

"You say this to me you unchristian assistant Trotskyist, with your stylistic Swahili street irresistibility and lapis lazuli studded waistcoat. In the mists of time, when you are compos mentis, try registering with a roistering, liberalist whist-playing sisterhood."

"'Tis tempting co-existence to be sure. That is to say, with persistence, I sternly précis this terrible prognosis. Time was, a surrealist thesis, taut with extremist inconsistencies would outdistance even the purist listener.

With the portcullis torn asunder, salamis thrown and pristine okapi stumbling artistically, the anarchists mistreat
semi-finalists for being fascist nudists, ministering to a Buddhist blacklist, while Mississippi strawberry pickers untwist typists' wristwatches and mistrusted sushi stagnates ritualistically.

"Sophisticated Elvis, truly you administrate a fundamentalist thesis to be sure, foisting a tangled vista of transistorised chemistry and subsisting a logistic patois tongue, vis-à-vis Tunis turns a whistle-stop registry," said Mavi strenuously. "You are a fleur-de-lis tending, sentimentalist. Ali Stromboli the New Delhi strangler could be undisturbed less.

Maybe a praying mantis troubled by halitosis terminally twists this third Miami stripper's vital statistics, but hey! hoist the bourgeois tadpole in crisis theatrically.

Tomorrow we heist the gist of ist. Insistence that ist does not exist assumes it an ex ist.

Helicopters

This demonstrates an amazing bit of flying ability. To perch the rear end of a Sikorsky helicopter just lightly enough on top of a rickety mountain shack so as not to crush it, and effect what one assumes to be a rescue operation ... well, this guy has my admiration.

On the subject of helicopters, there is a very well known after-dinner speaker named David Gunson. He had been an Air Force pilot, and later became an air traffic controller. His speech delivery is outstanding, and oh so funny. When he gets to describing the techniques of piloting a chopper, he goes on ......"piloting a chopper is entirely different. You have a single stick between your legs and the rules is you can do whatever you like with it, except hold it steady. You have to keep it moving all the time. You put on phenomenal amounts of power, it defies all known law, and lifts off. It should of course screw itself into the ground. Once you have it in the air you just go crazy with the thing, and when you have it at a sensible height , you hold the stick in one position and watch what the helicopter does, because if you want to do that again - that is where you put the stick. It's a bit hit and miss on a chopper; even the people who build then don't have a lot of faith, and normally put wheels, skis and floats on them, so you have a fighting chance when you come down......".

The history of helicopters is quite interesting and although the Chinese had had a child's toy employing the principal of spinning blades for two centuries, way back around 1490, Leonardo da Vinci conceived the idea for practical use, (pic on right), and although during the early part of the 20th century a number of designs were built and flew, they did not reach proper production until 1942 when Igor Sikorsky invented his first design.

Actually riding in a helicopter is one of my few unfulfilled ambitions, and will probably remain so, unfortunately.

Hope readers found all that interesting.

Clive on 'Elf. Qwestion an' A'nser Seshion

'Allo All, Clive 'ere.
I 'as sum 'ints abowt yer 'elf. See, I 'ad this bird email me askin' me advice, an' she wuz so chuffed wiv wot I tol' 'er, I fort I shood let yer all in on a few fax that may 'ave escap'd yer reelerlisa ... relisisat ... reelisis ... fuck it ... wot you 'adn't figgered out.

Q: I've heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life. Is this true?

A: Lis'en. Yer 'art is only gud fer so many beets, an' that's it. Don't waste 'em on eggsercise. Ev'ryfin' wares owt evenchually. Speedin' up yer 'art wil not make you live longer; that's like sayin' you can exten' the life ov yer motor by drivin' it faster. Wanna live longer? Take a bluddy nap.

Q: Should I cut down on meat and eat more fruits and vegetables?

A: You mus' grasp the nat'ral order ov fings. Wot duz a cow eat? 'ay an' corn an' stuff. An' wot are these? Veg'tibles. So a bit ov meat is nuffin' more than a mekanisum ov delivrin' veg'tibles to yer sistim. If you fink you need grain, nosh on a chicken. Beef is a gud convershun ov grass, annuver green leafy veg'tible. Don’t forget, a single chop or sossage can giv' yer 50% ov yer recomended dayly alowance ov veg'tible products, so get yer nashers roun' a bit ov pork girls.

Q: Should I reduce my alcohol intake?

A: Naw, not a' all. Beer comes from grain. Wine is made from froot. Froot an' veg…gud fer yer…remember. Brandy fer eggsample is nuffin' more than convertid wine. That means they take the wa'er owt ov the frooty bit, sose you get even more ov the goodness.

Q: How can I calculate my body/fat ratio?

A: Wel, if you 'ave a body, you has to 'ave body fat, therefore yer rashio is wun to wun. If you 'ad two bodys, yer rashio wud be two to wun, etc. Work it out fer yerself. I fink I've made that plain enuff fer peeple ta figger.

Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise program?

A: Can't fink ov a single wun. My filosofy is, no pain...fank gawd fer that.

Q: Aren't fried foods bad for you?

A: Oh me sainted arnt, ain't yor ears on the same wavelenf as yor brane?. These days foods is fried in vegtible oil. In fact, they is swimmin' in the bleedin' stuff. 'Ow cud gettin' even more veg'tibles be bad fer yer?

Q: Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around the middle?

A: Def'nately not! When you exersise a mussle, it gets bigger. Look at all them watelifters fer inst. You shood only be doin' sit-ups if yer want a bigger stummik.

Q: Is chocolate bad for me?

A: Are you crazy? HELLOO ... Coco beens ... veg'tible!!! Chocklate is the best feel-gud food around! Ile tells yer sum uvver fings 'bout chocklate.

It contains sugar, which comes from eever sugar cane or sugar beets, which are bowf plants. Therefore, chocklate is ALL veg'tible. If you eat chocklate-covered cherries, or raysins, or strawbids or oringe slices, you is gettin' froot in yer diet as well. Chocklate-covered nuts 'as to be the top protein food groop. An', since chocklate as loads ov milk, which comes from cows, which eat grass. Friggin' 'ell, duz I 'ave ta spell it out.

To 'ave a balancd diet, eat eqwall 'mounts ov dark an' wite chocklate.

If caleries is a concern ov yors, store yer chocklate on top ov the fridge. Not many peeple know this but caleries are afraid ov ites, an' they will jump out ov the chocklate to protect 'emselves.

Diet tip: Eat a chocklate bar before each meal. It'll take the edge off yer appetite, an' yool eat less ov the foods that don't taste so gud.

If the chocklate melts in yer 'and, you is noshin' it too slow.

Problum: 'Ow to get a pound ov chocklate 'ome from the shop in a car wiv no air condishunin' on a 'ot summers day.
Solushun: Eat it in the car park.

Buewty tip: Chocklate has shit-lodes ov preservertives. Preservertives preserve fings so they don't get old so quick, so they make yer look yunger.
Stan's to common sense dunnit?.

Time manigement tip: Rite "Eat chocklate" at the top ov yer daily "To Do List." That way, yool get at least one fing done proper.

A nice box of chockys can provide yor total daily intake ov caleries in one place. Fink of the energy that cud save. Energy savin' means less emishuns, so less global worming. Fillin' yer gob wiv a bar ov Cadberrys Froot an' Nut is 'elpin' save the planet.

An' me last bit ov advice, if yer can't eat all your chocklate, it will keep in the freezer. But if you can't eat all your chocklate, wots wrong wiv yer? Don't yer wan' a Noble Prize?

Rite, any uvver qwestions?

Q: Is swimming good for your figure?

A: If swimin' is gud fer yer figger, explain wales to me. They ain't eggsactly airodynamik.

Q: Is getting in-shape important for my lifestyle?

A: 'Rownd' is a friggin' shape, same as any uvver shape, or ain't you noticed!
Get a life; sod the style.

Well, I 'opes this 'as cleered up any misconcepshuns you may 'ave 'ad about food an' diets.

Clive

Let me know if yer want's me advice abowt anyfink else.

Funnies Time

Last year I had a young guy, Daniel come to stay at my house for a few months. He was a life-long friend of one of my lodgers, Leo; they grew up together in South Africa before Daniel went to live in the States. We got on very well, and it was unfortunate when he had to leave, due to visa expiration. He is currently back in S.A. working in his specialist field, computer science, but of course we keep in email contact.

He has said he will send items for this blog, and here is the first. A tad rude in parts, but very funny. I'm sure my readers are broad-minded.

New Words for 2007

* SALAD DODGER.
An excellent phrase for an overweight person.

* SWAMP-DONKEY
A deeply unattractive person.

* TESTICULATING.
Waving your arms around and talking cr@p.

* BLAMESTORMING.
Sitting round in a group, discussing why a deadline was missed or a project failed, and who was responsible.

* SEAGULL MANAGER.
A manager who flies in, makes a lot of noise, cr@ps on everything, and then leaves.

* ASSMOSIS.
The process by which people seem to absorb success and advancement by
sucking up to the boss rather than working hard.

* SALMON DAY.
The experience of spending an entire day swimming upstream only to get
screwed and die.

* CUBE FARM.
An office filled with cubicles.

* PRAIRIE DOGGING.
When someone yells or drops something loudly in a cube farm, and people's heads pop up over the partition walls to see what's going on. (This also applies to applause for a promotion, because there may be cake.)

* SITCOMs.
Single Income, Two Children, Oppressive Mortgage. What yuppies turn into when they have children, and one of them stops working to stay home with the kids, or start a home business.

* SINBAD.
Single working girls. Single Income, No Boyfriend and Desperate.

* AEROPLANE BLONDE.
One who has bleached her hair, but still has a 'black box'.

* PERCUSSIVE MAINTENANCE.
The fine art of whacking the cr@p out of an electronic device to get it to work again.

* ADMINISPHERE.
The rarefied organisational layers beginning just above the rank and file. Decisions that fall from the adminisphere are often profoundly inappropriate or irrelevant to the problems they were designed to solve. This is often affiliated with the dreaded administrivia - needless paperwork and processes.

* GOING FOR A McCR@P.
Entering a fast food restaurant with no intention of buying anything. You're just going to the toilet. If challenged by a pimply staff member, your declaration that you'll buy their food afterwards is known as a McCR@P with Lies.

* 404.
Someone who's clueless. From the World Wide Web error message 404 Not
Found, meaning the requested document could not be located.

* AUSSIE KISS.
Similar to a French Kiss, but given down-under.

* OH-NO SECOND.
That minuscule fraction of time in which you realise you've just made a BIG mistake - e.g. - you've hit 'reply all'.

* GREYHOUND
A very short skirt, only an inch from the hare.

* JOHNNY-NO-STARS.
A young man of substandard intelligence; the typical adolescent who works in a burger restaurant. The 'no-stars' comes from the badges displaying stars that staff at fast-food restaurants often wear to show their level of proficiency.

* MILLENNIUM DOMES.
The contents of a 'Wonderbra'. Extremely impressive when viewed from the outside, but there's actually nothing in there worth seeing.

* MONKEY BATH.
A bath so hot, that when lowering yourself in, you go: "Oo! Oo! Oo! Aa! Aa! Aa!".

* MYSTERY BUS.
The bus that arrives at the pub on Friday night while you're in the toilet after your 10th pint, and whisks away all the unattractive people, so the pub is suddenly packed with stunners when you come back in.

* MYSTERY TAXI.
The taxi that arrives at your place on Saturday morning before you wake up, whisks away the stunner you slept with, and leaves a 10-pinter in your bed instead.

* BEER COAT.
The invisible but warm coat worn when walking home at 3:00am after a booze cruise.

* BEER COMPASS.
The invisible device that ensures your safe arrival home after the booze cruise, even though you're too drunk to remember where you live, how you got here, and where you've come from.

* BREAKING THE SEAL.
Your first pee in the pub, usually after two hours of drinking. After breaking the seal of your bladder, repeat visits to the toilet will be required every 10 to 15 minutes for the rest of the night.

* TART FUEL.
Bottled premixed spirits, regularly consumed by young women.

* PICASSO BUM.
A woman whose knickers are too small for her, so she looks like she's got four buttocks.

Thanks for those Dan. Here's a few 'funnies' from me.

A woman came home, screeching her car into the driveway, and ran into the house. She slammed the door and shouted at the top of her lungs, "Pack your bags. I won the lottery!"
The husband said, "Oh my God! What should I pack, beach stuff or mountain stuff?"
"Doesn't matter," she said. "Just get out."

Marriage is a relationship in which one person is always right, and the other is a husband.

A Polish immigrant went to the DMV to apply for a driver's licence. First, of course, he had to take an eye-sight test. The optician showed him a card with the letters: C Z W I X N O S T A C Z on it. "Can you read this?" the optician asked.
"Read it?" he replied, "I know the guy."

And finally, these are hilarious. The first is entitled Silent Library and features Ernesto Hoost, the Dutch K1 fighter who now lives in Japan. The second features the same bunch of Japanese looneys in Crotch Whacks. If you fail to laugh at these, you have absolutely no sense of humour.

Catch-up time

You ain't posted nuffink the last few days Zizz.
This is very true Clive. Actually I have been extremely busy. New lodgers moving in, Couch Surfers coming and going, the preparations for the curryfest next week, and, my brother arriving today on a four-day visit.
Wot's all this Ruby malarkey then?
I have a C.S. chap in Italy coming to stay for a few days who wants to cook an Indian banquet for me and friends.
Gor, am I invi'ed?
Only if you behave yourself. I remember the last barbecue. Two glasses of Strongbow and you were making a real pest of yourself.
I fink sumwun slipped me a Micky.
Hardly likely. You are simply incapable of remaining unaffected by alcohol. You have a low tolerance level. It will be dandelion and burdock for you in future. I do not want a repeat performance of of your lewd antics. You had one of the girls in tears.
I 'ad 'er larfin so 'ard, that's why.
It did not appear that way to me.
That's cos you wuz too busy tryin' to pull the tart wiv the big bristols.
That's as maybe. Anyway, did you want something specific.
Yeah. I 'as a joke fer yer.
Go on then. I doubt I will get any peace until you tell me.
Well, see, ev'ry mornin', Bill Clinton takes a jog near 'is 'ome, an' on each run, he 'appens to jog past a prozz standin' on the same street corner, day afta day.
"Fifty dollars!" she would shout from the curb.
"Naw five dollars" 'e'd fire back.
This ritual 'tween the ex-prez an' the 'ooker goes on fer sev'ral days. He'd run by. She'd 'oller, "Fifty dollars" 'E'd yell back, "Five dollars!"
One day, 'is missus, 'Illary decides she wants ta go wiv 'im on 'is jog. As they is nearin' the infamus corner, Bill sudde'ly realises the ol' brass wud bark 'er offer fer all ta 'ear (includin' 'Ills) an' 'e wud 'ave ta come up wiv a gud explanashun. As they jog up ta the corna sure enuff there she wuz, so Bill tries to evade 'er eyes as they cruises past.
She sez nuffin, an' 'e finks 'e 'as got away wiv it until she yells out, "See wot yer gets fer five bucks"
I fort that wuz qwite funny.
Marginally more amusing than your normal jokes I have to admit.
So 'as yer got summink gud ta show us before we packs it in fer the nite?
OK. Here's something clever. Whoever thought this one up was quite inventive.
Mirror imagery.That's pretty gud Zizz. I 'as wun fer you. X-Man .
See ya Zizz, I is goin' to me cupboard now. I 'as a mucky movie ta watch. Nite.
Goodnight Clive.

Old Sods Rest Home

A family took their frail, elderly mother to the Old Sods home and left her, expecting she would be well cared for. The next morning, the nurses bathed her, fed her a tasty breakfast and set her in a chair at a window overlooking the flower garden. She seemed okay, but after a while she slowly started to tilt sideways in her chair.

Two attentive nurses immediately rushed up to catch her and straighten her up. Again she seemed okay, but after a while she slowly started to tilt over to her other side. The nurses rushed back and once more brought her back upright.

This went on all morning. Later the family arrived to see how the old dear was adjusting to her new home. "So Ma, how is it here? Are they treating you all right?"

"It's pretty nice," she replied. "Except they won't let me fart."

Self Expression - The Collection

This pic shows a little 'Milk of Human Kindness'. Here are some others worth viewing.
On the subject of milk, watch this. Simple but clever. I call it Froth Art. Practise, and amaze your dinner guests.
..... and although this caused a raised eyebrow or two in Cafe Society. As we say in Spain, Cafe con Leche.
If you are a cat person, you'll enjoy Talking Cats.
And so the doggy fans don't feel left out, The Dancing Dog.

Flame Cats

Concept Car... Muscle Car...... Electric Car ????

General Motors' Chevrolet Volt.

A battery-powered concept car although it's probably years away from production.

Fire Starter

Sven and Olly

Sven and Olly got fired so they went to the unemployment office. Sven walked up to the counter and politely said, "I Sven. I no job."
"Okay. What did you do?" asked the clerk.
"I vas da panty stitcher. I sew elastic into women's panties."
"Oh, really? Let me look that up." She consulted her guidebook. "Unfortunately, Sven, I can only give you €100 a week because that's an unskilled profession."
"Ho-kay. I take. Tank you veddy much!" Sven took his €100 cheque and sat down.
Then Olly stepped up to the counter. "I Olly. I no job!"
"And what did you do?"
"I vas deesel fitter."
"Oh. Let me look that up." She consulted the book again. "Here it is - diesel fitter. I can give you €500 a week because that's a skilled profession."
"Tank you veddy much!" Olly took his cheque, walked over to Sven and showed it to him.
Sven returned to the counter in a huff! "Vas is dis? I ony get one hunnid but my friend get fife hunnid?!"
"I'm sorry, Sven, but your friend's profession is skilled while your profession is unskilled."
"What? What you mean? I have skill. I sew elastic into women's panties. That skill! All Olly do is put them over his head and say, 'Yah, deesel fit her.'"

Spoof David Blaine and the Powers of 10

Many people will know the name David Blaine. He is a street magician who has gained a degree of notoriety. This spoof is (I think) hilarious. It does contain swearing, so if you might be offended by the 'f' word, don't watch it, but you will miss out on a good laugh. David Plain.

On a more serious note, The Powers of 10 is entirely different. Fascinating stuff.

Did Phil Drop One?

A Good Day

On a purely personal note, this has been a good day. I was given a car recently, but it needed attention as it had broken down and been left in a parking bay on the sea front.
I have a clever mate who is a wizz with engines and he soon had the problem sorted, so I now have a Peugeot 405 turbo-diesel to motor about in.
I then met up with a lady-friend, and spent a pleasant few hours in her company.
Now, this might not seem much to the average person, mundane even, but when you have been without transport for more than six months, (since the previous car finally died) and consequently rarely go out the front gate, this puts a slightly different perspective on events.
So to celebrate, we will have a little drop of firewater, and drink to the girl with the hairy chest. Pretty little thing. Looks a bit like Mariah Carey.
I fink that's been Photoshopped.
A possibility Clive, but what if it is a chest wig?
Wot if it wuz fer real?
Well, whatever it is, she certainly seems happy to have it.
Got anyfing else good to show then Zizz?
Yes. This I thought was most interesting. The caption reads WATCHING THE BOOM
A cone of water vapour at the tail of an HP-14 glider as it breaks the sound barrier. The image released yesterday (whenever that was) was captured by a high speed camera aboard a York Soaring SGS 1-26 chase plane. The pilot of the HP-14, John DeJong, after the flight reported a slight vibration at the wingtips, very stiff controls and confirmed a final glide of 426 Km!

Apart from being an amazing picture, it is incredible to consider a glider flying that fast.

Here is a similar shot but with a jet-fighter. Interesting picture comparisons.

'Ere Zizz, changin' the suject, I 'ad a email las' night. Signed 'erself 'A Natural Woman'. She wanted me opinions on a matter ov wevver wimmin shud shave ta please their men. Wot you fink?
I think shaving is essential. I mean, I've yet never met a woman with a beard who has appealed to me.
I don't means on 'er chops...yunnow...fanny fluff.
I do not wish to get into discussion with you on such topics in my journal. I have told you before, I want to try to keep it 'clean', and that includes keeping your smut out. If you wish to follow this up, you will have to do it by email. Who is she anyway?
Ain't tellin'.
And why not?
'Cause you know 'er.
Ah-ha! One of my erudite friends winding you up again no doubt.
I ain't sayin' nuffin 'cause me an' this bird 'as a bit ov 'istory that you don't know about. Let's just say, me an' 'er see eye ta eye 'bout certain fings.
You have raised my curiosity. Maybe I will infiltrate your files.
Won't do no good. I 'as it tucked away safe. Put it on me mem'ry stick which I've stuck down me underpants.
In that case, it is perfectly safe from me. That is one area I certainly do not wish to investigate. I shall quell my inquisitiveness.
This seems an appropriate to terminate tonight's discourse.
Goodnight Clive.
Nite Zizz.
(see Pol, I never gave yer away)

Now look at that. 'Imself 'as naffed off an' forgot ta post this. Oppertunity ta show yer sumfing ov mine. It ain't dir'y so Zizz won't say nuffin.

Soppy innit?

Mus' be time ta go. I'll leave yer wiv a funny story.

Me mate George, is a pa'rio'ic geez an' would never buy anyfing that was not made in Britain. 'E decides ta get a new tele, an' goes to 'is local 'lectrical shop. On inspectin' the various sets on display, 'e chooses one, askin' the saleman where it wuz made.
"Oh, no need ta worry Sir," 'e sez "this one's British froo an' froo".
Satisfied wiv the reply, George pays over 'is dosh an' takes it away.
'Alf hour la'er he's back, finds the same salesman an' says "You told me porkies, This set I bought ain't Bri'ish."
"What do you mean Sir? sez the sales moosh."
"Well, I gets it 'ome, opens the box, took the set out, an' on the back it 'as a label sayin' BUILT IN ANTENNA.

Chinese Aircraft Carrier

Pictures like this one created quite a stir when they first appeared on the Internet, and blogs and forums were soon filled with stories of China secretly constructing their first nuclear powered aircraft carrier. At first glance, this aircraft carrier looks quite real. The family resemblance to a US Navy Nimitz Class CVN is undeniable, however, upon examining the photos one soon realizes that this ship, in fact, is landlocked.

So this is obviously not a real carrier. But what could it be? A non-functional prototype, the first step towards the PLN's first aircraft carrier? A stationary 'practice' carrier to train pilots? A life-sized simulation or 'proof of concept' platform?
Nope. Actually, it is just a really, really cool looking building. Namely, it is the award winning (for creative architecture) 'Military Education Centre' at the Orient Green Boat After-School Camp for Youngsters.
Located about one hour west of Shanghai, the camp was constructed at the shores of Dianshan Lake. It covers 360 hectares, and has 8 major areas: Knowledge Boulevard; Bravery and Wisdom; Education on National Defence; Challenge to Survival; Scientific Exploration; Water Sports; Sports Training; and Practice in Living. The adjoining 5000 hectare campsite and village features a Global Village, with accommodation for 4,000 students in a series of hostels, cabins, and campsites themed to reflect the experience of being in 36 different countries.

Sports facilities, a golf course, parasailing, windsurfing, a simulated gun range, rides in amphibious military vehicles, museum displays, video games, aircraft, replica spacecraft, ICBMs, and a park with statues of over 160 world-famous people are also included.

The 'ship' itself is of traditional steel-frame building construction, and is a generic aircraft carrier about 7/8 scale to a Nimitz. Inside are military displays, exhibition halls, meeting rooms, games, and other attractions, and on the 'flight deck' there are Chinese military aircraft, such as helicopters, fighters, and attack planes.

If you ever get the chance, pay it a visit. Busses run from Shanghai and other nearby towns and cities, and admission is only 50 yuan, about $6 US.

Excellent Animation

I came across some really good animation the other day that I think is well worth seeing. There are two vids to watch. The animator, Alan Becker is a craftsman at his trade, and the success of his first short story obviously spurred him on to create another.

The palm pilot has nothing to do with it, but it is 'cute'.

Iron Man

I just had to add this. I was just surfing off emails and for no particular reason filled in a questionaire 'Which Superhero are You'. Now I don't know about you, but if you ever do these, as I occasionally do for amusement, I don't see the point of not answering as correctly as possible. Mind you, there's nothing to prove it isn't rigged anyway, so don't start sending comments about questionable authenticity. We've been all through that before.
I fort one ov yer answers was a bit questionable.
Which one?
Do you wear a bra?
Well I don't.
Wot 'bout Fersday night cross-dressers meeting then? Gotcha there. I've seen yer. P'radin' around in yer 'igh 'eels
Clive...FUCK OFF!

Your results:
You are Iron Man

Iron Man 80% Spider-Man 50% Robin 50% Green Lantern 50% Wonder Woman 45% Catwoman 45% Superman 40% Hulk 35% The Flash 35% Supergirl 30% Batman 25%

Inventor. Businessman. Genius.

Click here to take the "Which Superhero am I?" quiz...


They're all getting on a bit now though.

Couch Surf

I belong to a worldwide friendship collective called CouchSurf. I have been a member for about six months and have had the pleasure of hosting members from all over the world, and from these, lasting friendships are emerging. My pleasure is the meeting with new people from all sorts of backgrounds and cultures, and the opportunity to share some of my life's experiences with them. They in turn have somewhere to stay for a few days whilst on route, or, as is beginning to happen now, people are specfically coming to see me.

I wrote about Dorota and Pawel's banquet, so now wish to add a mention of the C.S. guests who joined us for the New Year. Amber and Teresa arrived on Dec. 29th, They are American girls presently living and working in Spain, part of a uni project back home.

The following day Judith and her two travelling companions, Jan and Marilyn arrived. They are from Quebec, but currently studying in Lithuania. So, with South African lodger Leo (pic taker) and Teresa's new Spanish boyfriend, Roberto, we were quite a mini-league of nations.This was us before they trooped off to the beach for the midnight celebrations, returning later to continue the party.
I wanted to take some pics then but me cam'ra wou'dn't work.
That is because I removed the memory card, anticipating you might have thoughts along such lines and capture snaps of my guests in uncompromising positions.

A special mench to Amber (she's the crazy bird blendin' in wiv the wall) with whom I had a most deep and meaningful interaction, resulting in she giving me three weeks to define 'ist'.
(It wuz you who sed she wuz crazy Zizz. Wot the 'ells a ist when it's at 'ome?
Well that is what I have to define Clive. There is a condition. She reserves the right to challenge each and everything I say or claim if it in any way is directed at her personally, ie, suggesting the suffix applies to her.
Like wot duz that mean?
Well, it means she does not subscribe to being an 'ist' herself.
Like 'feminist' an' 'mefferdist'.
Basically,
Or Boodist, eh Zizz. I wudn't 'av minded showin' 'er a few ov me rope tricks.
Any wordsmiths who fancy having a shot at defining 'ist' themselves, please go ahead. I will be most interested to read opinions on this off-beat subject, as I am sure my new-found young American friend will.
Well, I fort she wuz alright, even if she wuz madder than cheese. I'll remember 'er.
And so will I Clive, and not just for the bottle of Temperanillo they brought from the famed Rioja area where they reside.
'Ere Zizz. D'you remember that Monty Pyfon sketch about Oz table wines.
Oh yes. Eric Idle as the Australian wine expert. How did it go?......

......A lot of people in this country pooh-pooh Australian table wines. This is a pity as many fine Australian wines appeal not only to the Australian palate but also to the cognoscenti of Great Britain.

Black Stump Bordeaux is rightly praised as a peppermint flavoured Burgundy, whilst a good Sydney Syrup can rank with any of the world's best sugary wines.

Château Blue, too, has won many prizes; not least for its taste, and its lingering afterburn.

Old Smokey 1968 has been compared favourably to a Welsh claret, whilst the Australian Wino Society thoroughly recommends a 1970 Coq du Rod Laver, which, believe me, has a kick on it like a mule: eight bottles of this and you're really finished. At the opening of the Sydney Bridge Club, they were fishing them out of the main sewers every half an hour.

Of the sparkling wines, the most famous is Perth Pink. This is a bottle with a message in, and the message is 'beware'. This is not a wine for drinking, this is a wine for laying down and avoiding.

Another good fighting wine is Melbourne Old-and-Yellow, which is particularly heavy and should be used only for hand-to-hand combat.

Quite the reverse is true of Château Chunder, which is an appellation contrôlée, specially grown for those keen on regurgitation; a fine wine which really opens up the sluices at both ends.

Real emetic fans will also go for a Hobart Muddy, and a prize winning Cuivre Reserve Château Bottled Nuit San Wogga Wogga, which has a bouquet like an aborigine's armpit.

Classic stuff.

Old Sods Rest Home

Mabel, Mildred and Ethel are sitting on a bench in the gardens when all of a sudden they are confronted by a flasher.

Mabel was a spinster, and had never seen a naked man in her life, and immediately had a stroke.

Mildred was a widow of many years, and during her marriage had always made love in the dark, so had never seen her husband's appendage. She also had a stroke.

Ethel was older and more feeble than her two friends, and could not reach.

Push

A man and his wife are awakened at 3 o'clock in the morning by a loud pounding on the door. The man gets up and goes to the door where a drunken stranger stands in the pouring rain.

"Can you give me a push?" he asks, hanging onto the door frame.

"Not a chance" says the husband. It's 3 o'clock in the morning!". He slams the door and returns to bed.

"Who was it?" asks his wife.

"Just some drunk wanting a push" he answers.

"Did you help him?" she asks.

"No, I didn't, it's three in the morning and raining like crazy out there."

"Well, you have a short memory" says his wife. "Can't you remember about three months ago when we broke down on vacation and those two strangers helped us? I think you should help him."

The man does as he is told and gets dressed and goes out into the pounding rain and calls out into the dark, "Hello, are you still there?"

"Yes," comes the answer.

"Do you still want a push?" calls out the husband.

"Yes, please!" comes the reply from the dark.

"Where are you?" asks the husband.

"Over here on the swing!"

Bad Landing Site

The Knob

A woman visited her plastic surgeon who told her about a new procedure called 'The Knob,' where a small knob is placed at the top of the woman's head and could be turned to tighten up her skin and produce the effect of a brand new face-lift. Of course, the woman wanted 'The Knob.'

Over the course of the years, the woman tightened the knob, and the effects were wonderful, the she remained young looking and vibrant.

After fifteen years, the woman returned to the surgeon with two problems.

"All these years, everything has been working just fine. I've had to turn the knob many times and I've always loved the results. But now I've developed two annoying problems: First, I have these terrible bags under my eyes and the knob won't get rid of them."

The doctor looked at her closely and said, "Those aren't bags, those are your breasts."

She said, "Well, I guess there's no point in asking about the goatee."