Serious politics

And in yet another outdated post...
An explanation for my huge international readership: David Cameron will most probably be our next Prime Minister. Think an even posher Tony Blair, but without the training.

Readers of one of Sussex's newspapers recently had the opportunity to suggest questions that would be put to the Tory leader by The Argus.

Here are the best ones asked by Sussex's political elite. Remember, this Cameron chap's probably going to run the country soon.

"Who framed Roger Rabbit?"

"Who would win in a fight between a baboon and a badger?"

"In a hypothetical situation, if Gordon Brown was to average 90mph airborne when hit by a Morris Ital starting at junction 22 of the M6, and Nick Clegg was hit at 88mph from J2 of the M6 by a Austin Montego, at which junction of the M6 would:
a.) They meet, and --
b.) A chockie biscuit rise high over the Cadbury's factory?"

"Does he think there'll ever be a boy born that can swim as fast as a shark?"

"Could he deck a horse with one punch?"

"What does swan taste like?"

"What is the biggest leaf?"


More here.

Heard on the only funny bit of the Now Show

Two stories. One caption.

It's a big knob on a roof.

Unsavoury correlation for which I will probably be shot

Did Mr Smith do what he had to do because his missus was shopping?

SORRY sorry sorry sorry

Come here to DIE, human worms!

The mayor of Amity wanted to brush shark attacks under the carpet to protect the local tourist industry, whereas the mayor of Hakodate wants to highlight the impending invasion of alien squids who intend to bomb the shit out of the town. Throw in rampaging robots and you have the perfect tourism video. 'kin weird.

Found on Pharyngula

Must try harder

I’m not surprised by this new revelation from HR Magazine: 9 out of 10 CVs get binned in the first stage of the recruitment process.
It’s seriously annoying to see so many typos and poor grammar – mostly from twentysomethings with degrees. There really is no excuse: supposedly declining education standards is no reason to make no effort. Can mobile texting, LOL cats and user generated content be to blame? I really don’t care, so long as you can express yourself in writing without sounding like a moron.
I am now more inclined to employ someone who has English as a second language. These people often speak and write the language in a manner that puts my compatriots to shame. They are also more likely to understand the correct use of the word “like”.
If you have to recruit and are overwhelmed by CVs then I’d like to repeat some advice I gave a couple of years ago about the earliest stage of the process. It has never failed me:
Separate the CVs randomly into two roughly equal piles.
Shove pile #1 into the bin.
You wouldn’t want to hire anyone who’s unlucky, would you?

Looking after the crown jewels

It's a scene that many people see every day but you wouldn't expect it in an ad. Got to love it though.

For
Via

A lesson in cultural stereotype reinforcement

Borrow yer scissors mate? Eh, eh, eh?

I found this gem of an article during some research into credit crunch behaviours. For some reason it amuses; I can't think why.

Hair cuts hit by the credit crisis
5 February 2009
Liverpool Echo
Hairdressers have become the latest victims of the credit crunch - as more people cut their own locks.
Almost half of Liverpool men who were questioned admitted to cutting their own hair while 30% asked a friend to chop it for them.
The poll also revealed that 28% of Liverpudlians are letting their hair grow long to avoid pricey cuts.
Men aged between 35 and 44 were found most likely to cut their own hair, whereas men aged 16 to 24 prefer to grow their hair long.

Does this mean the return of the Keegan perm? Do gangs of Scouse geezer blokes congregate in each others' houses with their tinnies and scissors for a communal beer and grooming session? More research needed.

‘sup?

Look, I’m not going to apologise for not posting for a while because this is only a blog, and I’m not Stephen Fry. The trouble is that feeding this beast is a tough call when I don’t stumble across anything interesting (like this unexpected snap from Google Street View’s recent tour of London), or I’m just too damn busy to get riled up for a piss ‘n vinegar rant.
If you’re following my staggering progress on Twitter then you’ll know that today I am mostly amused by a chihuahua and a dwarf.

Ruff sex

It's the sign of a jaded life that the grammar upsets me more than the picture that's currently in my head.

via

She's not dead yet

But this is published by the same high-quality stable that vomits out the Daily Star, Daily Express and various porno mags.

To those of you fortunate enough to avoid British tabloids, Jade Goody is a "reality TV star" dying from cancer.

**Edit: notice the issue number...**

Let’s not have an argument

Greenpeace piss me off. They’re as bad as a religion. Once a dogma is acquired, it is stuck to resolutely and evidence that contradicts that dogma is shouted down or ignored. These are the same luddites whose opposition to GM food would allow the world's poorest to starve because of evidence-free scaremongering.
No offence to Romania, but at least this shitty little campaign is restricted to that country.
What’s so bad about it?
How about saving the planet? The “radiation will mutate you” issue assumes that nuclear technology has remained stagnant for decades and, therefore, we daren’t use it.
There is a significant case to be made for reducing carbon emissions from fossil-fuelled power stations and switching to nuclear energy. These ads effectively kill that argument without even presenting minor details such as, for example, the facts.

Pics via Ads of the World

Let's discuss the international regulation of our banking system

The question of European Union intervention in the British economy has vexed me over recent days. I’m please that The Sun has seen fit to offer an expert opinion.

Click image for gratuitous enlightenment

Get to it, man

Sod meerkats and flashmobs, this ad is the dog’s bollocks. It’s so awful, it’s brilliant and has even garnered 1,000 complaints (which I am sceptical about, because of the PR), so it must be good.
A housewife orders her overacting husband to clean the oven, treating him like a baby. There are men who pay good money for that sort of treatment.
Actually, about those complaints… the recession must really be kicking in: one thousand lazy buggers fired first because their declining employers have eyeballed the dead wood and trimmed them. Bereft of their elastic bands and half-hourly wank breaks, these layabouts took umbrage at this wifely ad that pokes at their manhood. And complained.
Tough shit. Get off your arse and clean the oven like a real man, and then crack open a beer with your teeth.

Time for web advertising to give up the ghost

Quite possibly the worst ad placement of 2009


Spotted

Joygasm: Reanimating Miss Einstein's decapitated head

Extreme Expressions Of Joy Beyond All Reason, #6.

What Prince Phil said to Her Maj

Unedited screen print. Look very carefully. Click image to enlarge.

via

Inanities of modern life: the doctors’ surgery

8 a.m. and I’m at the GP’s. You can only book for appointments on the day you need to see the doctor. My usual tactic is to arrive as the surgery opens and grab an 8.05 appointment before the hordes of desperadoes ringing the surgery claim the early slots.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes. I’d like the earliest possible appointment with any doctor, please.”
“I’m afraid we’re only accepting telephone appointments sir.”
“But I’m right here.”
“Sorry, but we can only make an appointment if you phone us.”
I take five steps back, take out my mobile and ring the surgery.
The receptionist right in front of me picks up the phone.
“Titsup Surgery. How can I help you?”
“Hello. I’d like the earliest possible appointment with any doctor, please.”
“Can you be here by 8.10?”
“Definitely.”
“And what’s your name sir?”
“Mister F N Chimps.”
“And the nature of the appointment?”
“Illness, with a variable probability of death, dependent upon my current blood pressure.”
“Oh, er, OK. So you’ll be here at 8.10?”
“Yes, hold on a minute while I get a pen and write that down.”
I step forward to the receptionist and whisper to her (because she has the phone handset to her ear). “Can I borrow your pen please?” She mouths “OK” and hands me a biro.
“Hello, I have a pen. What time am I supposed to be there again?”
“8.10 Mister Chimps, but you only have a few minutes to get here now.”
“I’ll be there. I’m just writing the time down on my hand so I don’t forget. See you in a minute. Oh, and by the way – thanks for the pen.”
I return the pen.

Aaaah, precious snowflake

Cute, isn't she?

Why sometimes it's a bad idea to use real people in ads

Currently spreading ennui around much of the London rail network. Take my word for it: this looks far, far worse as a poster.

Clickage for biggage

Mr Sanderson's expression is due to
	constipation
	imminent dribbling
	a generous person hiding under the table
pollcode.com free polls

Remember when the papers jumped (on) the shark?

Shame on you if you didn’t suss that the infamous shark-surfing video was a viral ad. This is a nicely done debunk from Captain Disillusion who runs a stylish YouTube channel for youthful sceptics. You have to skim through a metaphorical antitheist fantasy drama first, but if kids believe that you can hook a giant shark without ending up uni-limbed, then they might also be taken in by stories about sky fairies too.