What Song Are You Listening To, Right Now?

Fresh from praising the scientist to high heaven, last week, the balloon of scientific worthiness has been fatally holed by fresh news of what these, so-called, experts have been getting up to in their spooky castles.

After announcing that they can now cure cancer in mice - ensuring that the thinking man's rat can continue to make their homes in our skirting boards, defecate on our carpets and steal our precious cheese, impervious to any radiation based death-ray developed the powerful cheese makers consortiums - we are now told that they have succeeded in giving mice colds.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/health/7225742.stm

"Ah Professor Spatchcock how are you getting on with that AIDS vaccine you were in the process of advanced testing last week?"

"Mmm, yes, i'm afraid we had to put that project on the back burner for a while as i've been putting all my time and effort into manufacturing a sneezing mouse. Can you imagine that, eh? Just like that sneezing dwarf in the cartoons only instead of a dwarf it is a mouse and instead of a cartoon it is a mouse."

"Well, Professor, you do have a point there. However, now that you've given a mouse a cold, do you think you could crack on with that AIDS vaccine?"

"Yes, yes...just as soon as i've created a tiny beaver to put in this bonsai wood"

Damn you science.

'Cold War' - Northern State
 
Here we are at Super Tuesday, or Super Duper Tuesday as the gay community prefer. It is also Shrove Tuesday, some say Mardi Gras, some say Pancake Day, although taking a quick glance down the typical American, or British, street would suggest that every day is Pancake Day.

However, while we are all busily celebrating Jesus' love of batter there are more pressing concerns for the world community.

I speak, of course, about that hoary old chestnut, racism.

Take a look at these fine upstanding fellows.
2008alonsofandbarca3400.jpg


These people turned up to barrack, heckle and throw things at British Formula 1 driver, Lewis Hamilton. As you may have guessed Hamilton is a black fellow. Thinking about it i can now see why, when considering Spain's national traits, nobody mentions their fantastic sense of humour.
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/sport/formula_1/article3308751.ece

If i'm honest i am a little shocked that this nation of jumped up waiters managed to carry on their tirade of abuse for a full three-day period without sloping off to while away the afternoon with a series of extensive catnaps. I mean haven't they got better things to do than attempt to abuse a young gentleman whizzing past them at speeds exceeding 200 miles per hour? Are there no de-horned drugged-up bulls to be cowardly butchered in front of baying crowds, no underage tourists to paw with a wandering hand, no two-bit fascist dictators to support or no donkeys to be pushed from the bell-towers of local churches?

Listen up Spain - there is no place for this sort of racist behaviour in respectable society. Got that you fecking dago bastards.

'Racist Friend' - The Specials
 
Damocles said:
Did Hamilton win? I once had a hamster named Hamilton.
Click to expand...

They weren't actually racing. Hamilton's team were only there to test their new car.

Perhaps your hamster was a distant relative of the motor racing Hamiltons? Did he meet his demise in a high speed hamster-ball crash?
 
charver said:
They weren't actually racing. Hamilton's team were only there to test their new car.

Perhaps your hamster was a distant relative of the motor racing Hamiltons? Did he meet his demise in a high speed hamster-ball crash?
Click to expand...
I dunno. I owned it with a girl I lived with for a while. We were living in sin, and it was fantastic. However she dumped me with relish after she realized that being all good at sex and stuff didn't overcome my horrible personality.

A few weeks after she dumped me she called to inform me that the hamster had died, I got no details...

Bon Jovi - My Guitar Lies Bleeding In My Arms
 
Damocles said:
I dunno. I owned it with a girl I lived with for a while. We were living in sin, and it was fantastic. However she dumped me with relish after she realized that being all good at sex and stuff didn't overcome my horrible personality.

A few weeks after she dumped me she called to inform me that the hamster had died, I got no details...

Bon Jovi - My Guitar Lies Bleeding In My Arms
Click to expand...

:D

Not that i'm laughing at your tragic rodent loss, you understand.

She sounds like a cold-hearted harpy and i suspect that your escape was most fortuitous.

Perhaps this she-devil merely sought to use your feelings for the rodent against you, twisting the knife if you will, and instead of a-mouldering in his shoe-box grave the youthful Hamilton merely usurped you in this siren's affections. I'm led to believe the critters have a most impressive thrust rate.
 
This morning sees every politician in Britain scrambling to distance themselves from statements made, yesterday, by the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk_politics/7233335.stm

Apparently the Head of the Anglican Church would like to see the adoption of Sharia law in the UK. Makes perfect sense, no?

This country has been going downhill since the Enlightenment. Time was when not a day went by without a sodomite roasting on an open fire. Nowadays you can't even drown an eccentric old woman in a water trough without being subject to police harassment.

As the Archbishop points out Muslims should not have to choose between "the stark alternatives of cultural loyalty or state loyalty". Can't a man bury his wife up the waist in his own back garden and pelt her with stones without some do-gooder phoning the authorities? It is political correctness gone mad i tell you.

'The Night I Lost My Head' - Maximo Park
 
Happy Valentines Day

That magical day of the year when card companies rub their corporate hands together and the lovestruck paramour carefully places his heart atop a silver salver before offering himself to his beloved, some say beau. In the world of the advertising executive the ending is always a happy one. I find one is never treated to the reality of one's very soul being chewed up, swallowed and shat out onto a flaming pyre of spite.

Apparently, the average British gent will spend around £71 (and 25 pence) on the lady whose knickers he is trying to get into.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/business/7239363.stm
What to buy, though, that is the question.

Should one wine her and dine her with the fizziest of fizzy French plonk washed down with finest and fishiest fish eggs that money can buy (remember that frog spawn is not the same thing)? Would your time be better spent scouring the land for the most exquisite nine-carat gold and diamonique combination that the Home Shopping Network has to offer? Should a crazy love fool opt for traditional red roses or filthy nude poses? What is a cove to do?

The thing is, they don't really know what they want do they? Oh, they say they want originality but when they open the door and see the twenty-one pig's hearts left on the doorstep they call the authorities and have you arrested.

Romance is dead.

'Another Nail in my Heart' - Squeeze
 
charver said:
Happy Valentines Day

That magical day of the year when card companies rub their corporate hands together and the lovestruck paramour carefully places his heart atop a silver salver before offering himself to his beloved, some say beau. In the world of the advertising executive the ending is always a happy one. I find one is never treated to the reality of one's very soul being chewed up, swallowed and shat out onto a flaming pyre of spite.

Apparently, the average British gent will spend around £71 (and 25 pence) on the lady whose knickers he is trying to get into.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/business/7239363.stm
What to buy, though, that is the question.

Should one wine her and dine her with the fizziest of fizzy French plonk washed down with finest and fishiest fish eggs that money can buy (remember that frog spawn is not the same thing)? Would your time be better spent scouring the land for the most exquisite nine-carat gold and diamonique combination that the Home Shopping Network has to offer? Should a crazy love fool opt for traditional red roses or filthy nude poses? What is a cove to do?

The thing is, they don't really know what they want do they? Oh, they say they want originality but when they open the door and see the twenty-one pig's hearts left on the doorstep they call the authorities and have you arrested.

Romance is dead.

'Another Nail in my Heart' - Squeeze
Click to expand...
So how much does the average Brit spend on his wife then? Also, what if they were Romans? Would it be Pig Livers?
 
Who would do that? Actually, I'm a sucker for one-hit wonders, and have yet to hear another song of hers worth listening to... A similar example is that awesome song, "Chasing Cars," by Snow Patrol, as I soon discovered that the rest of their music sucks.
 
What a world we live in, eh?

If you'd told somebody fifty ago of the wonders of the modern world - electronic record players the size of a mouse, mice the size of electronic record players and multi-national pornography delivered to your door by tiny men in the telephone - they would, no doubt, have fixed you with a steely glare, labelled you a communist and sent you on your merry way with a flea in your ear.

What then would yesterday's man have made of plans to introduce miniature robots into your body and brain-box allowing one to function more effectively?
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/7248875.stm

That's right ladies and gentlemen and robots, they want to turn us all into cyborgs.

cyborg.jpg

Mr Cheesewright has been transformed into a grotesque fully-operational robotic killing machine but can tell you what time it is in 17 different countries.

I for one am looking forward to the day when i wake up in the morning, boot myself up and spend the next three hours urinating uncontrollably due to unforeseen bugs in my new Windows security patch upgrade. That's livin' alright.

'Robot' - Futureheads
 
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