It would be remiss of me not to mention the appalling events in London of 7th July 2005. It is hard to be humerous or to make any political or other comment when one considers that there are people throughout world who are grieving for loved ones killed in the name of God or righteousness by fanatical religious and cultural bigots. My thoughts and prayers are with the dead, the injured and their families and also with the politicians and leaders who seek to solve the problems that recent events have brought into the public eye.
There is no excuse for killing innocent people simply because their beliefs and values are not the same as your own.
This is true whether you are living in a cave, a terraced house in Leeds, a terraced house in London with the number 10 on the door or a sprawling white place with egg shaped rooms.
May those that embrace evil and those that do not challenge their actions rotate forever upon a spit roast in the devil's hottest sweatiest chip shop.
Monday, July 18, 2005
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Olympics 2012
What a land of golden opportunity! London is to host the Olympic Games in 2012 and I Dougal P. Mcnasty intend to make hay while the sun shines.
Of course I was involved in putting together the bid from the day when Lord Coo was persuaded to lead the team. Heading up the section looking after prosthetics, toupees, national dress and surgical stockings I was also drafted onto the security committee with special portfolio for concealed surveillance equipment and embrocation management.
With the success of this bid I fully expect to be appointed to head up some pointless Government quango as a reward for my loyalty and dare I say brilliance at foiling the Frenchies.
Superb planning and cunning McNasty design scuppered their ambitions good and proper. Let me explain..... over six months ago I visited Paris disguised as a traditional French Toupee Seller; you know the sort of thing, bicycle, beret, blue and white hooped shirt, a string of hair pieces slung over the shoulder. Upon arrival at the Elysee palace I managed to blag my way in to see M. Crackerjack, who being most impressed with my demonstration of the 'McNasty Garlic and Herb Special' (A ginger wig with built in offensive aroma generator) purchased one on the spot. What our French fiend did not know was that this particular model had been modified so that each day it automatically shed a few strands of nylon and most cunningly injected small amounts of the hormone oestrogeon into his scalp.
By the time of the G8 summit, and more importantly the Olympic vote, M. Shiraz's mop was looking distinctly bedraggled and (this is the clever part) his daily dose of female hormone had dried up. As any fool knows, particularly if they have lived with Mrs McNasty for any length of time, a sudden dip in the level of female hormones can cause that wonderful phenomena known as Pre Menstrual Tension or PMT. President Spartak obviously caught it really badly as he let himself down good and proper mouthing off about British Beef, Tory Bliar and awful British food. His outburst obviously convinced the International Olympic Committee that the French were not to be trusted, particulary rapidly balding ginger Frenchman who were apt to reach for the bread knife first and ask questions later.
If that's not worth a Quango chair I would like to know what is, in the meanwhile I shall continue to make preparations for the inevitable increase in orders for underarm hairpieces from female javelin throwers and shot putters.
Of course I was involved in putting together the bid from the day when Lord Coo was persuaded to lead the team. Heading up the section looking after prosthetics, toupees, national dress and surgical stockings I was also drafted onto the security committee with special portfolio for concealed surveillance equipment and embrocation management.
With the success of this bid I fully expect to be appointed to head up some pointless Government quango as a reward for my loyalty and dare I say brilliance at foiling the Frenchies.
Superb planning and cunning McNasty design scuppered their ambitions good and proper. Let me explain..... over six months ago I visited Paris disguised as a traditional French Toupee Seller; you know the sort of thing, bicycle, beret, blue and white hooped shirt, a string of hair pieces slung over the shoulder. Upon arrival at the Elysee palace I managed to blag my way in to see M. Crackerjack, who being most impressed with my demonstration of the 'McNasty Garlic and Herb Special' (A ginger wig with built in offensive aroma generator) purchased one on the spot. What our French fiend did not know was that this particular model had been modified so that each day it automatically shed a few strands of nylon and most cunningly injected small amounts of the hormone oestrogeon into his scalp.
By the time of the G8 summit, and more importantly the Olympic vote, M. Shiraz's mop was looking distinctly bedraggled and (this is the clever part) his daily dose of female hormone had dried up. As any fool knows, particularly if they have lived with Mrs McNasty for any length of time, a sudden dip in the level of female hormones can cause that wonderful phenomena known as Pre Menstrual Tension or PMT. President Spartak obviously caught it really badly as he let himself down good and proper mouthing off about British Beef, Tory Bliar and awful British food. His outburst obviously convinced the International Olympic Committee that the French were not to be trusted, particulary rapidly balding ginger Frenchman who were apt to reach for the bread knife first and ask questions later.
If that's not worth a Quango chair I would like to know what is, in the meanwhile I shall continue to make preparations for the inevitable increase in orders for underarm hairpieces from female javelin throwers and shot putters.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Busy weekend
What an excellent weekend, I am referring of course to the wonderful free Live 8 showcase gig and CD plugging event held in Hyde Park and at various other venues around the world. This was an excellent example and message from the rich and over priveleged to the rest of us that poverty is no longer acceptable. I am sure that as a result of increased sales arising out of their free publicity that they will continue to avoid this most unacceptable condition.
I was fortunate enough to be backstage attending to the needs of the famous and follically challenged; Lord Elton perhaps being the most notable dignatory availing himself of my services. As he will be the first to tell you Ginger wigs do have a mind of their own, particularly when they are on display to an audience of billions, so I made sure that I had lots of 'gaffa' tape and araldite to hand in order to ensure a performance free of the unpleasantness that can ensue when things become detached and start jumping across the stage of their own accord. (Such is the power of the rythmic boogie beats laid down by itinerant bass players and drummers.) (For your erudition this effect is know in the business as 'stage fright', due to the lasting psychological damage that witnessing such an event can have upon young and hithero innocent minds. )
The whole day went off without a hitch apart from a slight problem caused by the over trimming of a 'McNasty Wonderama' Pubic Wig by a nervous make up artist. Unfortunately this led to some nasty feedback during rehearsals but after some prompt attention Mrs Richie was able to deliver a most stunning performance completely unencumbranced by ginger snippings.
It was a pleasure to meet up with some of my old pals from the Coldstream Guards who were relaxing after 'warming up' the crowd. I noted with some satisfaction that they are still wearing the reliable 'McNasty SAM' Bearskins that I developed over fifteen years ago during a special secondment to Porton Down. (For the unitiated this headgear has a rotating top-piece that slides to one side in order to allow the launch of a miniature Surface to Air Missile which has proved very effective in deterring pigeons from mating in the vicinity of Buck House and embarassing Her Majesty. See Janes Hairpiece Weekly)
I was fortunate enough to be backstage attending to the needs of the famous and follically challenged; Lord Elton perhaps being the most notable dignatory availing himself of my services. As he will be the first to tell you Ginger wigs do have a mind of their own, particularly when they are on display to an audience of billions, so I made sure that I had lots of 'gaffa' tape and araldite to hand in order to ensure a performance free of the unpleasantness that can ensue when things become detached and start jumping across the stage of their own accord. (Such is the power of the rythmic boogie beats laid down by itinerant bass players and drummers.) (For your erudition this effect is know in the business as 'stage fright', due to the lasting psychological damage that witnessing such an event can have upon young and hithero innocent minds. )
The whole day went off without a hitch apart from a slight problem caused by the over trimming of a 'McNasty Wonderama' Pubic Wig by a nervous make up artist. Unfortunately this led to some nasty feedback during rehearsals but after some prompt attention Mrs Richie was able to deliver a most stunning performance completely unencumbranced by ginger snippings.
It was a pleasure to meet up with some of my old pals from the Coldstream Guards who were relaxing after 'warming up' the crowd. I noted with some satisfaction that they are still wearing the reliable 'McNasty SAM' Bearskins that I developed over fifteen years ago during a special secondment to Porton Down. (For the unitiated this headgear has a rotating top-piece that slides to one side in order to allow the launch of a miniature Surface to Air Missile which has proved very effective in deterring pigeons from mating in the vicinity of Buck House and embarassing Her Majesty. See Janes Hairpiece Weekly)
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