Vegetable Rights and Peace

Yup. After years of deliberating and putting my head in the sand, I've finally taken the decision to go vegetarian again.

When I was younger, I was veggie for many, many years. I remember being something like 6 years old, and being horrified that the lamb on my plate was the same 'lambsies' in the fields that we would stop and look at on the way to school.

At about the same age, my school suspected that I was some kind of child prodigy, and I was made to take various intelligence tests and interviews etc. They told my parents afterwards that I was indeed highly intelligent, but a bit immature - when asked where does beef come from, I had replied 'from the butchers'. I gave the same answer for pork and lamb. My mum had to explain that it was her fault - I would always ask where the food came from, and if she said 'from a cow', I wouldn't eat it. But if she told me it was 'from the butchers', I would eat it. Strange but true.

I stopped being veggie when I was about 15. I think I lasted about 8 or 9 years up til then. And since then, a combination of laziness and an inability to cook has made me simply put my head in the sand and make a conscious effort to not think about it. Because I have always been filled with a vague sense of horror, not just at the fact that we eat meat, but also that we farm it. Indeed, most abattoirs are little more than concentration camps for cattle.

I won't deny that I will miss it from time to time. I do like the taste. But when I think about it for more than about 5 seconds, I can't help but feel that it is morally wrong. And that it is time I put my mung beans where my mouth is.

In fact, I can't help thinking that in a couple of hundred years or so, once more is learnt about the world we live in and in particular if we finally learn to properly communicate with animals, they will look back on us eating meat in the same way we now look back at colonial slavery.

But I'm not going to start digging up dead grandmothers just to save a hamster. It's a decision I've taken for my own moral reasons. I'll let everyone else make up their own mind.

Cars is a bit of a Wreck

Went to see the new Disney film 'Cars' today with my nephews. Disney have been producing some half-decent stuff in recent years, but this one was pretty shit to say the least. The story itself was fairly predictable, but mainly it was too damn long. You can always tell when the kids start talking during the film.

Shame, because the ending was one of the best 'feel-good' endings that Disney have done in a long time. Just that you could easily have cut about 45 minutes out of it, and it would have been better.

A few really good moments - the pit stop by the Italian fork lift truck was hilarious, as was the little Ferrari-obsessed Fiat 126. But the rest was pretty poor, and seemed to be honest more aimed at merchandise than mirth. Shame - the actually story itself was pretty strong and the animation was good. Just could have been much, much tighter. It needed a much better script.

But was surprised to see that English hero Jeremy Clarkson had a cameo role. Perhaps less surprised to read in his column in The Sun that it was one of the funniest films ever made.

I always suspected that Bush is to blame...

I've got my nephews staying over. Benn is 13, Jake is 10. On the way to Plymouth, Jake was asking me about the current Israeli - Hezbollah crisis, and I was rather impressed. I certainly wasn't that involved in current affairs when I was that age.

But I was highly amused when I asked what he thought of it. "The Israeli's are really tough" he said. "But I think the lesbians started it"

After a brief moment of confusion, I realised he actually meant the Lebonese.

Always Remember you are Unique. Just Like Everyone Else

I used to have a very important job in the City. Our Operations Director was called PJ, he once had dinner with Princess Diana, he wore braces and red glasses. He had floppy blond hair. And his office was full of those motivational posters with eagles on them, with things like: "There are two ways to climb an oak tree - one is to climb, the other is to sit on an acorn".

Here are some more relevant motivational posters which would be in my office if I were a high-powered executive. My personal favourites:

"WISHES: When you wish upon a falling star, your dreams can come true. Unless it's really a meteorite hurtling to the Earth which will destroy all life. Then you're pretty much hosed no matter what you wish for. Unless it's death by meteor."

"MOTIVATION: If a pretty poster and a cute saying are all it takes to motivate you, you probably have a very easy job. The kind robots will be doing soon."

'Taking Captain Picard to Warp Speed'

In a previous posting, I said I'd like to do the London Marathon one day, and when I do, I shall be asking you all to sponsor me. However, there's a lot of training to be done before I can earn any serious cash for my chosen charidee, so it won't be any time yet.

So imagine my joy when I found an event that I have been training for all my life. That could even lead to me being a record breaker in my own name. Oh yes. My time has 'cum' and I hope I can 'pull it off'.

I am, of course, referring to the 'up-cuming' Maturbate-a-Thon 2006, in London on the 5th August. The current record stands at 8 hours and 30 minutes, and it's held by a 'yank'. I think it's time we showed the world that England has the biggest wankers in the world. It'll be 'hard' but I'm sure we can 'menage' it. (Last one a bit tenuous, sorry)

So if anyone fancies meeting up in London for a wank, let me know.

Incredibly, I hear that it is going to be shown on Channel 4. I shouldn't be surprised. Having seen an episode of Big Brother this year, they clearly have no problem filling our screens with tossers.

Commemorative Stamps for 9-11

I'm sure they didn't foresee that either.

The Power of Advertising

I don't know what they're advertising, but I'd buy it.

Hen Bad Taste...

An American mother went to McDonalds with her 2 children. She ordered two happy meals for the children. Her 6-year old was too busy watching the slide outside to eat the chicken nuggets, so the mum decided she would eat them. Without looking, she was about to put the nugget in her mouth when her 8-year old shouted not to eat it.

She looked at the nugget to find it was a coated chicken's head. The manager offered them their meal for free and two weeks of free meals. Instead she is pressing charges, and is demanding $100,000 compensation...

Reason nr 5,231,000 to not eat in McDonalds.

Fuck off! We're the Palestinian Liberation Popular Front

Aside from being 'fucking splitters', the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine appears to be made up entirely of gimps.

The Trouser Legs of History

Fulfilling a 'miscellaneous' ambition has made me think about other miscellaneous ambitions I could fulfil. The thing is, they're not the kind of thing that you would necessarily look at doing. Learning to play the piano is another I've been thinking of doing for years. The guitar as well... And unless you actually get off your arse and do something about it, you never will.

You have to actually make it happen, rather than expecting it to just happen. You'll never hear someone saying that they did the London Marathon by mistake or just fell into it. "Yes, I was walking round London, and all these people were running. I didn't know what they were running from, but thought cripes, I'd better not hang around, so I ran away as well and then before I knew it, they wrapped me in tinfoil and gave me a medal.' Although I think that the 'London Stampede' could be quite fun. Put some wild animals in with the runners. And say you'll shoot the last 1000 people to finish. I bet you'd smash the Marathon records. Nothing like the threat of instant death to make you raise your game.

But I digress. So I think I'm going to start having a think of all the things I've always wanted to do, those drunken 3 o'clock 'wouldn't it be ace to do...' dreams that are so quickly forgotten the next day.

So I think I may look at buying a guitar and perhaps even a piano. And I'm going to start putting some thought into the novel I've been meaning to put together all these years. I have two ideas. I even have a title for the first one - The Trouser Legs of History, which is the name I've given to a philosophy I believe in. In a nutshell, every time in life you make a decision, you create a new pair of 'history trousers'. And one you goes down the right trouser leg, the other you (the one that made a different decision) goes down the left trouser leg.

The idea for my book is that when you die, you don't go to heaven with all your family and friends... You go to a place that is full of all the alternate you's. And you get to talk to them all about what happened when they made the other decision - when they stayed with the girl you left. Or asked out the girl you were to scared to ask... And how it changed their life, and what happened afterwards. There would be those that had the fullest of lives, those that had the worst, and all the different ones in between...

And perhaps when you've spoken to the last of the alternate you's, you then get sent back down again to do it all again, to see what you've learnt. Perhaps that's my take on the pursuit of Nirvana. You have a pop at life, and then you look at the different ways it could have changed, the things you got wrong, the things you got right.

And when you finally achieve Enlightenment, you'll die, go to the same place, and you will be the only you there... And then you can enter whatever heaven may be, maybe then you become an angel, in the philosophical sense of the word rather than the religious, and you are then charged with helping those that are still finding their way through the trouser legs to achieve their own Enlightenment.

Or you enter a large banquet hall, eat yourself silly, get pissed on mead and shag loads of large-breasted valkyries for all eternity, as the Vikings believed.

Either would be fine.

I'm a Record Breaker, yeeeaaah!

Strutting my funky stuff on telly and everything. I may look like I'm doing it wrong, I am in fact freestyling


I have goals and ambitions in life. Not your usual success / job type ambitions. Money is an illusion and work even more so. (Eh? That's a bit profound for a Sunday). More like the check list that you'll be ticking off on your death bed at the grand old age of 130... When the job you did, the money you earnt, the things you've bought no longer matter.

There are the important ethical and moral ones - did I leave the world in a better place than it was when I found it? There are the emotional ones - did I meet the girl of my dreams, or did it not quite work out how I thought it would? Did I raise my kids to respect the world they live in, am I proud of how they turned out...

And then finally there is a category I like to call 'miscellaneous'. Miscellaneous are things like 'I'd like one day to run the London Marathon' or 'I'd like one day to publish something' and things like that. You wouldn't be racked with regret if you didn't do it in your lifetime, but it would be something that if you did actually do it, that you could remember with fondness.

And this weekend, I achieved a 'miscellaneous', albeit a rather tenuous one. I was part of an event that got into the Guinness Book of Records, and I've always wanted to do that. Sadly you won't be reading 'Jamie Lee' in the book, because I was just one of 8500 other people, but I went to the largest dance class in the world at Haytor, on Dartmoor.

I did have a scare when they signed me up as a dance teacher, but thankfully I managed to blag my way out of that one... But it was a fun event nonetheless and I did meet some really nice people at the event.

I don't think I'll ever have the discipline to actually get there under my own steam. I can't see myself really going balls out, for example, to put more clothes pegs on my face than anyone else. In the words of Bill Bailey, the only thing you need to do to beat that record is just have a bigger face. But I can say that in 2006, I was in the Guinness Book of Records and that'll do for me.

Karma Curls

My mother told me this would happen one day. When I was little, she told me the story of my Great Aunt Violet. One day, Violet was walking down the street when she saw a woman with no hair. And she laughed at that person walking down the street. The next morning, when she woke up, she was completely bald.

Now, seeing as I've never met Great Aunt Violet, that may have been a bollocks story to scare a young, impressionable child into believing in a rough sense of karma. Or it may be true. Who knows? However...

The other day I was laughing at people with mullets. And fuck me if I didn't wake up this morning with a mullet that absolutely wasn't there yesterday. It must be the weather, but I am scared. As it was an emergency, I dialled 999 (operator: "Hello, 999?" - Me: "Stop saying No No No, you crazy German, I need an emergency hairdresser"). Phew. Should be sorted out tomorrow.

How an earth can you grow a mullet overnight? I know exactly how teenwolf must have felt.

I did have a mullet once before, in fact the picture of me snarling in a butch way at the top of this page was 'avec mullet'. It was a 'trendy' mullet, it went down into a point and everything. But it was a bit like having a baby doberman. Lovely at first, but as it grew, it ended up terrorising anyone that came near it. In the end, I had no choice but to have it put down. I had to tell the children that it had gone away to live on a farm. *

* I will just point out I don't actually have any children, but I wasn't going to let that get in the way of a good gag.

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

Biff from Emmerdale.
No, I didn't know who
he was either.










Went to a charidee night last night. Boy, it was dull. I went last year, it's a kind of celebrity golf thing. And there is nothing more dull than listening to celebrities share golf anecdotes. I wouldn't mind if the stories were funny, perhaps involving streakers, old ladies or leopards. But the gag is usually that they hit the ball in the wrong direction, lost their ball, or putted it in more shots than they should have done.

I don't play golf. I don't particularly like people that claim to be celebrities, particularly when you haven't heard of any of them. I sat next to Biff from Emmerdale. He was very short. The other celebrities were many and varied. There was someone who was once on Stars in their Eyes. Someone who was once on Opportunity Knocks. The bloke who used to commentate on the snooker. And various other Z-Listers.

And after dazzling us with hilarious golfing anecdotes, they then did a cabaret act... I would have chewed my own ears off if my teeth would reach. Awful. They did songs from the shows, a few comedy stints - 'Why are pirates called pirates? Because they arrrrr' - and other such joys.

So two of my pet hates - crap overinflated celebrities rubbing shoulders with puffed-up corporate tossers. I am usually easily impressed with celebrities. Until you actually meet them.

The Genius that is Richard Cheese

I was introduced to the genius that is Richard Cheese at the weekend by my cousin Zoe. Her blog is here. For those not in the know, he is a singer that reworks well-known songs in a vegas style. So, for example, here is his reworking of Slipknot's People Equal Shit. Absolutely brilliant.

By the way, when you click on the link, you'll be taken to a blank screen whilst it downloads.

There are more songs, including The Disturbed's Get Down With the Sickness and Cypress Hill's Insane in the Brain on his website here, or you can see his blog here.

Well worth a listen. Utter genius.

Bored of Zidane...

Yup. Had enough now. Everyone just keeps going on about it. I got asked about it again this morning, what did I think he said? I just groaned and said oh no, not that old chestnut...

Bada Boom!

Wasted on Big Brother

Came home last night from a night of culture and nice cocktails and flopped on the telly to see what was on. After watching the magnificent IT Crowd, I suddenly found myself watching Big Brother's Big Mouth with foppish Russell Brand, the lovechild of Jo Brand and Dick van Dyke (and apparently the new lover of Kate Moss).

I have heard people talking about him, but have not come across him myself. And he is a very bizarre but very funny guy. I have only seen about half an hour of Big Brother this year, and was rather horrified at who is in this year. I think that with Nicky, you're about as close as you're ever going to get to watching someone have a full nervous breakdown on live TV.

But I digress. I can't help thinking he is absolutely wasted on this programme. He is an incredibly quick wit. When someone in the audience made a comment about one of the sad losers being hypocritical, he retorted with 'so a bit like Peter Sutcliffe accusing you of being a bit sexist?'

I wonder what awaits Mr Brand when the circus has finished. I expect the students of the land are already quoting his catchphrases as we speak.

The IT Crowd

Was watching the box last night and they are repeating The IT Crowd on Channel 4. What a great series that was. Even the theme tune is fabulous. My favourite line was from the episode where they decided that all women just like bastards. Moss was talking about what his serial killer nickname would be...

"The Gardener," thinks Moss, "as I'd always leave a rose at the murder scene."
"And your murder weapon?"
"A hammer."

Genius. To anyone that missed it last time round, I would thoroughly recommend it. The characters are fantastic charicatures of people we've all worked with. An excellent script, with excellent actors.

Surreal Spam

Has anyone else noticed how surreal spam is getting these days? I am referring to unsolicited emails obviously, not the blended lips and scrotums pretending to be ham that you get in tins. Today I have received a number of emails for viagra. But the message was:

"Hi,

AMBIvEN
VIAGvRA from $3,35
CIALxIS from $3,75
VALIvUM from $1,20

burrahobbit? said they a bit startled. Trolls are slow in the uptake, and mighty suspicious about anything new to them. Whats a burrahobbit got to do with my pocket, anyways? said William"

What the fuck is that about? And the previous message had the following pearls of wisdom:

"hearts. Long hours in the past days Thorin had spent in the treasury, and the lust of it was heavy on him. Though he had hunted chiefly for the Arkenstone, yet he had an eye for many another wonderful thing that"

Eh? Is this some sort of plan to bypass anti-spam software? Or is it simply proof that anyone who thinks that spamming actually works is insane?

Are YOU a nutter?

You have the chance to step into the shoes of the great Zid Vicious. Have fun and enjoy by clicking here...

Congrats to the Azzurri

for winning the World Cup this year in what was perhaps the strangest World Cup for many a year. No truly outstanding teams, with perhaps the exception of Argentina. If ever England were going to win it, well this was as good a time as ever. And, as Gary Neville said, "In 2010 it's being held in South Africa, and it might get as hot as 45 degrees". Hardly likely, seeing as it will be in the middle of their Winter, but you never know.

I was a little sad to see that Italy's win was totally overshadowed by that nutter Zidane (did you see what I did there? Well, it was stolen from The Daily Star). Still, the Italians won't care. Good luck to them, I say. And I have to say, it was refreshing to see them finally play the attacking football I always knew they could play, rather than scoring a goal and then getting 11 men behind the ball, hoping to perhaps snatch a goal on the break. No, that was England this time.

But one piece of shocking news I did hear was that the French decided to have a post-final party to send off Zizou with a special performance from his favourite singer, Sophie Ellis Bexter. Later in the evening Police were called when she was found dead in the team hotel. Police have since confirmed it was murder on Zidane's floor.

I thangkyew.

Moths and other stuff

My friend Carrie asked me the other day what moths did before Thomas Edison. I said that they probably flew around gas lamps and perhaps candles. Maybe they all flew into space towards the moon, and there is indeed a moth ring, built up over thousands of years, orbitting the planet. Indeed, in ancient times, they may just have flown in their droves into active volcanoes. You could argue that Edison was just as important in the moth world as in ours. It certainly made being a moth much less dangerous.

However, the one thing I have NEVER understood is that if moths like the light so much, why don't they simply fly around during the day?

And another thing. After my previous rant about birds being crap, it was countered that birds are indeed not crap because they can fly. Well, moths can also fly, and no one thinks they're particularly brilliant. As can wasps. And midges and billy witches (mayflies to anyone not from Suffolk). In fact, I remember clearly when the billy witch invasion would come each year, we would all run inside screaming "quick! If they get in your hair, you have to cut your hair off to get them out!" And then go back outside with our tennis rackets. Although I never actually heard of anyone who actually had to have their hair cut as a result of a billy witch. Maybe they were confusing them for chewing gum.

But I digress. The point is, birds need to do more than just fly to impress me. And someone needs to come up with a reason as to why moths come out only at night. And where they stay during the day. I mean, you never see moths during the day. Perhaps they just hang around in a state of permanent ecstasy until it gets dark, and then, like some crazy light junkie, they go off getting short bursts of their light 'fix' wherever they can.

Rooney Forgives Ronaldo...

Good to see there are no more hard feelings between the two. Courtesy of my lovely sister.

"I'll give you fucking extra"

Heard an interesting story today that may or may not be true. Apparently Howard, the annoying twat who stars in the Halifax adverts can no longer go out in Halifax, because every time he does, he gets hit. I'm not one to condone violence in any shape or form, but my respect for the citizens of Halifax has just gone up.

Don't Hassle The Hoff

BEER-swilling Baywatch star David Hasselhoff was booted out of Wimbledon — because he was “steaming drunk”. A guard led him from the tennis tournament’s grounds after a series of clashes with security staff.

FIRST, the 53-year-old actor had a blazing row outside Centre Court. Guards would not let him in because he did not have a valid ticket. THEN he was banned from press and players’ bars as he tried to get another drink.

Hasselhoff, who has fought a long battle with booze, yelled at staff: “You should let me in. Do you know who I am? I’m The Hoff.”

I'd have given my right arm to have been there. Well, my left one at least. Perhaps a few fingers then.

When the Fat Old Lady sings...

See that Fabio Cappello has resigned as Juve manager, in order to take over at Real. I expect this to be the first of many to leave the sinking ship if, as is widely anticipated, Juve are indeed relegated, perhaps even to Serie C. Worrying times for Serie A, as Milan, Lazio and Fiorentina are also facing the drop, if prosecuted, as well as a large points deduction in order to make it harder for them to come straight back up.

But for now, it's all gone quiet in Turin. A Cappello in fact.

Thanyouverymuch, I'll be here all week.

The Big Cup Final

Well, the mighty Azzurri are in, and although I missed the game, I fully expect them to thump the old men of France in the final. I doubt if the dirty, dirty Portuguese will beat the French. Not that I'm bitter, obviously. Actually I'm not. We were crap. I just don't like to see all the play acting and cheating, which the Portuguese have done throughout the tournament.

I seriously think that Italy will win it this year. They've only conceded one goal all tournament, and that was an own goal against Team USA! USA! USA!

Sadly, it would appear that Nesta isn't going to be fit for the final, which is a terrible shame both for him and Italy. But I think it should make for a great final. Which I won't be able to see because I'm going to Jen's barbecue. Bugger.

Cats that look like Hitler

Well, it does exactly what it says on the tin. This is indeed a website with pictures of cats that look like Hitler.

Carry on Lookeylikie...

Young Dee and Carry on Star Kenneth Williams...

A joke about grammar...

Chav: “Where are you from?”
Oxford Graduate: “I come from a place where we do not end our sentences with prepositions.”
Chav: “Okay – where are you from, nobhead?”

A joke about weasels

Two weasels are sitting on a bar stool. One starts to insult the other one. He screams, "I slept with your mother!" The bar gets quiet as everyone listens to see what the other weasel will do. The first again yells, "I SLEPT WITH YOUR MOTHER!" The other says, "Go home dad, you’re drunk."

Yet More World Cup Lookylikies

Portugal's Luis Figo and former WWF wrestler Razor Ramon.

First the turnip, now the swede...

Must say, i think you've got to put most of the blame for England's abject failure at this tournament squarely at the feet of Sven Goran Eriksson. The mistakes were made right from the off when he decided to only take 4 strikers, two of which were struggling with injuries, one of which had never played a Premiership game. Going to a major final with only Peter Crouch as a fit and recognised striker, was madness to say the least.

But once that decision was made, too many players just didn't play well. Beckham, particularly in the last 3 games, was simply invisible. Even his set-pieces were very, very poor. But even though Aaron Lennon was in top form, Sven would still not drop him.

And Lampard had a shocker. But still Sven stuck with him, changing the system to 4-5-1 to include both him and Gerrard in the team. And why Carrick wasn't included...

The team didn't seem to know what they were doing, too many players were out of sorts and out of form. But Sven did not seem to know how to deal with it, and continued with those players, to England's detriment.

Playing Rooney as a lone striker was simply crazy. You can't really blame Rooney for getting sent off. You can't even really blame the team for underperforming. I don't think they were comfortable with the system. I don't think they were comfortable with what they were doing.

And at the end, the rot just went through the whole team. Joe Cole started to fade away. Even Stevie G didn't seem to know what to do. Only Hargreaves and the defence seemed to be strong, but we were simply toothless in attack. All in all, a very disappointing tournament, and I'm glad to see the back of Eriksson.

We were lucky to get as far as we did.

Although whether MacLaren will be the answer, I seriously doubt it. I suspect it will be more of the same. I am not excited at the prospect of England's future.

Sadly with the players we have, we should be doing a lot better. But unless we get a manager that knows how to bring out the best in his players, playing the English way, we're always going to underperform.

Keegan was a great motivator, his enthusiasm and man-management skills were excellent. But he was tactically naive. We shall see what happens from now on.