....and the magic mushrooms!!!

I just sat throught the latter half of the Johnny Depp version of Charlie and the Chocolate factory and ask myself was Roald Dahl on hallucinagenics?

I can understand the moral here. Good, pov-ridden lad of raggamuffin, heart-of-golds-type family consolidate the work ethic and preach the union of the family, as Good (with a capital G) triumphs over Bad (with a small d...erm b) but what a nasty old bastard Willy Wonka Was! I did not think this interpretation suitable for children under 12. Never have I been so frightened since Mr Sta-Puft galumphed his way through New York city in Ghostbusters!

I spent ages deconstructing the semantics whilst considering the strong subliminal message of the proliferation of midgets. But what does this mean for chocolate lovers?

Everyone knows that the humble blueberry is a class-A superfood.

Whereas chocolate just makes you fat!

On another channel I've just seen Frank Gallagher cosy up to Russell Crowe.

I only had shepherd's pie tonight - honest.

Ground control to Major Tom

Your circuit's dead there's something wrong.

Apparently not. In the face of such shambolic operations yesterday, Terminal Dive refused to admit their opening day was a catastrophic failure.

We appear to excel at failure these days. And the arrogance of British Airways is First Class too!

In the ancient ditty by Monty Python:

"I'm so worried about the baggage retrieval system they've got at Heathrow"

This evidently is no parody and as true today as it was 30-odd years ago.

If you never had a reason for a little bit of terrorist activity, you would do after suffering treatment at the hands of this lot.

Q: What do BA and Robert Mugabe have in common?
A: Arrogance and denial in spades.

Well chocks-away lads. So much for advancements in technology.

I think I would have more faith in Thunderbirds are go!

What was the name of the that little papier-mache island that the Thunderbirds rockets launched from?

Calling Gerry Anderson to operations at Terminal Dive!

All systems go!

Saga louts cause 'holiday havoc' and ignore health risks by Minette Marrin
For those who are increasingly puzzled about what the Foreign Office is for, a little enlightenment has appeared. It emerged last week that one of its important new functions in these troubled times of genocide and terrorism is to tell thrill-seekers over 55 to behave themselves abroad...From The Sunday TimesMarch 23, 2008"

I never thought there was any point to living past 50 but now I have something to work towards I shall relish the opportunity to muck abart abroad.

Weary of a government slapping our wrists with limp, organic, lollo-rosso, senior citizens of a beleaguered Blighty are clearly fatigued by the fatuous poo-bahs of the foreign office.

It is quite clear that it has now become impossible to enjoy life in Britain. A country trussed up by taxation and banning orders. If in doubt about how to misbehave abroad please visit a small half-hour comedy programme called Benidorm on ITV, before the authorities can ban bad taste.

i-Player is a great idea for those of us who are just too busy to watch the TV when we get home from the office.

Missed episode 3 of Mad Men?
Fallen asleep watching Gavin and Stacey?
Too busy pub crawlin' to tape Love Soup?
Or been forced to deny your affection for Mitchell and Webb?

Problem solved with i-Player. Watch all your programmes in the office and get paid for doing so. This only works with BBC programmes but getting paid for watching their programmes at work might take the sting out of the cost of the TV licence.

As a wind as sharp as a paring knife slices through the bathroom window, there is nothing else to do this Easter apart from read good novels in the bath and eat perhaps another piece of chocolate egg

I have just read a riveting and extraordinary novel called "The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox" by Maggie O'Farrell. A book so gripping that it leaves a mark on your psyche. It's a while since I have read a book like that.

And that's it really.

Does anyone read books anymore?

I fell asleep watching Spurs play PSV, it was so exciting. Fell asleep as they went into a penalty shoot-out!!!!!

And woke up to tits bouncing off a fireman's pole.

Show Girls? Show-all Girls more likely.

A film capturing the spirited adventures of a feisty damsel falling on hard erections and or times (delete whichever is unapplicable/inexplicable). Poor cow. Thought she was auditioning for a part in a Vegas Show and misheard, confusing lap dancing with tap dancing.

Can we all dance like that in the queue at the Benefits office and more importantly would we get the job waving those Claire Sweeney jazz tassles????????

Just tell 'em your auditioning for Alan Hanson's walk-on trolley stroll for Morrisons!

Let it shine!

Leave the bastard motorist alone.

You will never get people out of their cars.

NEVER..................

Unless we have public transport that actually works.

And a world independent of oil. A novel idea yes?

Now go away and work on that one.

Oh and before you go, are there crumpets for tea?

The Brave New World post Aldous Huxley eh?

Don't think you've heard it all just yet. My iPod, bless its computerised cotton chips, has been seeping power. Battery seepage indeed! I confess it is a cold and brutal world without the valiant shield of an iPod and the courageous helmet of in-ear phones. Fuck the real world, I live in my own selected soundtracks!

Sadly seepage is now making my i-Mate i-Pod unreliable. What's a gel to do? Battery replacement is not cheap.

No sir, but the best bit is: you have to make an appointment to have it replaced!!!!!!!!!

Incredulous really. It's not a pacemaker I want fitted is it?

He used to be an alter boy but now he's the front man for the most under-rated band in Britain today. A lyrical sharp-shooter with a voice sounding like sand drenched syrup

Elbow and "Grounds for Divorce"

The hard-bitten sepia pub loses something in the translation without the writhing plumes of fag ash!

Pity

Is my search in vain?

I am currently shuffling through masses of redundant paperwork looking for an insignificant but lethal piece of paper with medical information on it.

Dry?

Paperwork?

Filing System?

Which clearly fails to recognise any resemblance to the Roman Alphabet. Did I file it with a leaning towards the Greek? Or was it possibly shredded? Shredded for the hamsters bedding maybe?

Oh well it's not a matter of life or death. And if it is, it's far too late to start worrying now.

The hamster died years ago.

The Mayor of Simpleton was a track by a long forgotten band called XTC. How aptly this tune can be applied today to the arrogant, crowing, bolshy Ken Livingstone. Except he's not simple. We are.

I'm weary of the number of times this man's stony, physiognomy blights the London news. Week after week he clearly abuses his position and makes outrageous and ridiculous falsehoods regarding Linford Lunchbox, Grasper Jasper and the rest of the all-too-many-I-can't-be-arsed-to-recall.

Ken, you would be more useful and possibly entertaining escorting Barbie to the recently rat-arsed party commonly known as the Brits. That was about your level and, more pertinently, as shambolic as your time in office as Mayor of London Town. I never thought I would say this but pack up your bindle stick and fuck off!

And take Gordon with you.

Swarfega fingers? With the recent release of Seventh Tree, I just wanted to play this oldie one more time:

Twist by Alison Goldfrapp

Sorry lads..............

My Aston Martin DB9 broke down on the M6......

In the meantime here is one mean mother-budgie

And that striped gobshite's real name is Bunny! He had just been caught with a toasting fork in his hand before hastily replacing it with an almost empty wine glass.

The too cool chicks are serious musicians tho'