I’m off to a stag do in Leeds this weekend. Below is a list of challenges set before the groom-to-be by his best man. I apologise if you find any of this offensive. I certainly do. In fact, I’m thinking of not going.
- Eat a vindaloo
- Wear fancy dress to the cricket - outfit to be arranged by the best man
- Get a picture with either a member of the emergency services or a tramp
- Down a pint of Whitelocks (real ale bar) strongest ale in one
- Get a kiss off a blonde, brunette, redhead, short haired and long haired woman (no tongues)
- Acquire an item of female underwear (Best bet for this is a trade with a hen on a hen night so my advice is to wear some old grollies that you don’t mind losing)
- Use the following chat up lines at least 3 times on different birds
- Do you the difference between a Big Mac and a blow job? No? Fancy meeting up for lunch tomorrow?
- Reckon I could snatch a kiss tonight? Or even better vice versa?
- Lets play Titanic - when I shout “iceberg” you go down
- Go into a small newsagents and ask them if they sell fridge freezers, when they look at you as if you are stupid or say no, say what about Washer dryers then? Leave quickly before they call the police.
- Walk up to the receptionist at the hotel, say you just put £2 in the condom machine in the gents and it didn’t work and could she sort you out.
NB The suggestion of the groom walking into a bar holding a Cornish pasty above his head shouting “I’ve got a bomb!” failed to make the list on account of its likelihood of him getting arrested.
I’ll report back soon.
This one must have been around for years, but I always think of it when I’m eating pancakes.
The Pancake Vomit Story.
I had an anxious moment today, passing the news cube at Tesco’s, when it looked like the Daily Express had abandoned its tireless quest to uncover the truth behind Princess Diana’s murder by Mossad/Prince Phillip/MI5/the 12-foot lizards. But on closer inspection there it was, just a bit less prominent than usual.
From “The Daily Express: The World’s Greatest Newspaper“
As predictably as night follows day, our friends north of the border have got their knickers all in a twist again about England going to the World Cup while they get to stay at home and mope.
“Aye, the English, they’re so arrogant,” said one chap on Five Live last week. Another one said something else but how am I meant to understand them with those silly accents? They don’t even make an effort.
Meanwhile, sales of mangoes were reported to be up four-fold in Scotland in advance of the England v Trinidad & Tobago match, on account of the number of Carribean-themed party nights that were planned. It actually made me feel a bit sorry for them, having to find other under-achievers to root for when their own under-achievers under-achieve so splendidly they fall right out the bottom of the barrel. Simon Hoggart put it rather succinctly in yesterday’s Guardian:
I feel quite sorry for those Scots who detest England so much. There can be nothing more galling than to loathe someone who in return regards you with benign tolerance. Inevitably the anti-English brigade become like children shouting “I hate you, I hate you!” while the parent smiles and says, “I think he’s over-tired”.
Don’t get me wrong, mind: many of my best friends are English.
UPDATE: I take it all back, they’re right behind us.
That’s right, blogrot is commemorating the World Cup by offering you the unique opportunity to win a Signed England Shirt!!
The shirt (pictured) is one of mine from Tesco (in England) and bears not one but two signatures (Johannes Brahms, and Agnetha Faltskog from Abba).
To claim your chance to win this unique memento of Summer ‘06, simply e-mail your name, address, credit card numbers, National Insurance number and approximate times you are out of the house to blogrot@englandshirt.com.
Bloody hell, I think I’ve cracked it! Just when you thought blogrot couldn’t get any more irrelevant and half baked!
BLOGROT: NOW AVAILABLE AS A PODCAST!
I won’t be podcasting much - I’m really just doing it for the same reason a dog licks its balls. But there will be the occasional titbit, and you can even subscribe to it in iTunes or another player of your choice using this link:
http://bitrot.net/blog/category/podcast/feed/
Wogan… Cooke… Westwood… Pig on Wheels… ahhhh…
I went to the Manchester Apple Store the other day for a quick prod of the wares. I was mucking about with a MacBook laptop when I was approached by some goon wearing an official Apple T-shirt and dangly badge.
“Need any help there, mate?” asked the goon.
I replied that I was just browsing.
“Yeah, cool,” he grinned. “Are you a Mac user yourself?”
“No,” I said, “PC I’m afraid.”
“Ah,” he said, leaning in with the air of a man about to reveal to me a life-altering truth, “the inferior operating system!”
Honestly, what a dick. The crazy-eyed zealot went on to tell me that Microsoft Office is better on the Mac because it was written (by Microsoft) for the Mac first then ported (by Microsoft) to Microsoft Windows. Eventually I had to pull down his dangly badge and twang it up into his chin to escape.
I should know better. You wouldn’t walk into a Mormon temple without expecting to be told we’re all going to heaven in a magic spaceship. But must I really have to put up with this brainwashed pigshit every time I want to dribble over some overpriced technology? Where are my human rights in all this?
It is for this reason that Bill Gates will always win. Just like Blair, who needs an argument when the opposition are all maniacs?
Photo: a man hurries past the den of crazies clutching a talismanic John Lewis bag. By me.
You know I wouldn’t normally take an interest in a bizarre goat item, but something about the Sun story Man’s sex with goat caught my attention. I think it was the quote from Detective Inspector Dave Crinnion:
I saw the goat the next day — it did not seem too upset but it is difficult to tell.
Difficult, sure - but not impossible. Was it rocking quietly in a corner and crying, Dave? Was it listening to all its old Sade albums? Was it cutting the sleeves off jackets and letting the phone ring out? These are the signs you need to look for.
Just another example of the police’s shoddy attitude to goat welfare in this country. And meanwhile a couple of suspected terrorists get 250 dedicated officers crawling all over them. I feel some balance is called for.
Link from Darren.
Regular readers (ha!) will be aware that I’ve been suffering from a nasty bout of conjuntivitis lately. Understandably, many of you may have been concerned about this affecting my ability during the World Soccer Cup when it “kicks off” later this week.
Well worry no more. Doctors in Manchester have today confirmed that my eyes are definitely back to “match fitness”, and should be capable of watching one or two “games” a day, no sweat. It’s a huge relief as nobody loves soccer more than me, and I look forward to cheering our boys on with both eyes when they “go out to bat” on Sunday.
Not recently, I hasten to add, although we did have potato croquettes last week. Does that count?
Either way I’m clearly not doing my job properly and must be driven from office immediately.
Photo: A croquet fan looking glum yesterday. Not only has the reputation of the beautiful game taken a “hammering” in recent days but it is also banned on trains in the UK, even first class. Not even a bacon butty and a female companion can cheer this fellow up, such is his love of “shooting hoops”.