the amazing true story of butt spencer

this is NOT Vanessa's brother, who dances special salsa...

there once was a dodgy, big and hairy american actor
i think it was in the 1970´s by the look of the facial hair
it seems he was famous in venezuela
i dont recall him
but i got stuck at the cannonball run
his charms were so great that a lady in caracas decided to name her newborn son after him
except she got the name slightly wrong
unlike the grate man
the one and only Bud Spencer
she named him Butt Spencer
and its all true...

un corso intensivo

the flesh is willing but the mind is weak
ive decided to study my butt off at spanish
im doing a page and a half of one of my books a day
and half a chapter of the other
its enormous...
but ive gotta get in there
coz i know i wont bother with ththththth after i bog off from here
soy demasiado flojo
bebe
sooo many nouns
sooo many verbs
sooo many adjectives
sooo much bloody todos
asi puedo escribir un blog en castellaño
with the ñ
did you see the ñ?
yeah i did that ñ all by myself
the question is, can i make it all stick or will i end up with a big mess of stuff that i cant make sense of?
cuidate!
it´ll be peachy
...
ive also been ruuuuuuuuuuuuing a large mistake made by dint of slackness
i could have brought loads of foreign currency and made a killing
the black market rate is more than double the official
so depending on how much i spend... i will probably be at least 500 smeckers out of pockit
que stupido!
plans keep mutating
shoud have done research
stupido!
was going to do a 2 day trip to las sabana
and 2 days on isla margarita
but then i discovered that wasnt all kosher
and the prices are dublin enormous!
tercero mundo? el mi culo!!!
much heftier than oz for touristy stuff....
berga y conio!
time for big time research time
...
went to rich persons shopping centre the other night
to visit vanessas boyfriend and his parents
via shopping centre...
que mierda que son
oscar is not the grouch
v knowledgable dude and his parents are huge polyglots that filled me with plantain chips and scotch
and give me info overload about places to see here and in colombia
brrrrrrrrrrrrrr
we played escrabble, a bit like scrabble really
rather tricky considering my extremely limited vocab in spanish... lucky i had soapstar help
mrs oscar told me whats going on with chavez and his issues with wealthy people
it rung all astrange
way too similar to the zimbabwe thing with wealth redistribution
not a comfortable way to live

not a cyrillic adaption

me and the lads having a few polar beers....

theres a super breeze coming in today
the sky is grey
and its blowing away-a nanosecond at a time
the humidity that envelopes me
last night i went to a pool hall
called dominoes
with vanessa, her brother spencer and her friend jota
its was great fun
there was dodgy latino music pumping at extraordinary levels
the kind that would normally drive me nuts
but somehow it was really cool
the patrons were all shaking their hips
i may have learned something that day
i had to wear jeans
which felt like an analogy gone wrong
we got stuck into the beers
but they only had the baby sized ones
not even a babycham
i played like a dios
until i finished the first beer
when naturally i started playing like rubbish
plus la change
there were waitress like birds wearing purple vests and ridiculously tight white trousers
which were designed to show their latin culos in a big way
i kept being amazed how much i was enjoying the music and the atmosphere
the latin blokes huffing and puffing and parading around like peacocks
didnt get on my tits much at all
the girls with their incy wincy tops on
didnt get on my tits at all
OOH ANOTHER NIGHT...
yes another night
we go the metro
amazingly clean and efficient
not at all like the tercero mundo
2 nights back we went to el leone
which is castellano for breeze legs
and sat in this marvellous outdoor area
in the snug warmth with yummy beers
polar light, polar not light
and big bad polar mummy bear beer
we at tequanos which are sort of stick pastry things with melted mozzarella in them
and eventually i met jose
how was sitting with some of his mates
who all spoke english
especially one prat who thought he was being funny trying to take the piss out of the gringo by making up bullshit stories
he didnt get too far
i was feeling a bit sketchy so i didnt bother playing along
the traffic the traffic
the bloody traffic
la gente la gente
you gotta admire their ambiguous references...

estoy siempre un pochito cansado... bebe

hola mundo
outside of the window there is a fantastic view of buildings cars and people swarming about the place
its a hot and sweaty day today in caracas
like the 2 that preceded it
and perhaps the 20000' that preceded it too
my head is swimming with spanish words that i am trying to absorb at an allarming rate
it seems that in 2 days i have already got a tenuous working grip on spanish
if my interlocutors speak despacio and clearly
which isnt as easy as it sounds
it is quite a skill to learn
to speak simply to non madre lingua speakers
this family is so kind to me
vanessa speaks good english
(nothing to do with me)
spencer, the brother understands quite a bit
mum and dad... well not so much
swimming, doggy paddling around in circles
just keeping my head above water
with all this new information
so many words look and sound like italian
its like ive got a 50 percent head start
just gotta get some more verbs sorted
remember the various conjugations for past, future and conditional... maybe
muchas cosas
arecho baby
yesterday vanessa took me for a wander around the centre of caracas
fascinating
its been too long since i set foot in a place like this
the chaos, the smells, the traffic, the street vendors
the objects of familiarity that arent familiar after all
we straggled through shops and malls
down hot humid streets
this place certainly is alive
we went to a nice parque
and to the fauna museum
or something like that
with loads of cool info about the indigenous fauna and peoples
and the ambiente
v interesting
surely this is what life is made for
today im going to try to find a bank that doesnt ask for a stupid id code
and going out tonight with vanessa, spencer and her boyfriend oscar to el leone a groovy pub apparently
where i will catch up with jose too
much sweating to do before then

simon

The Far Side, Brixvegas, this was created with love on the top floor, behind the small square window...

apparently we can write waht we want .... / well thats usually a welcome opportunity for me to spout on for hours about what i thnk is worth spouting on about - and usually gives Simon the opportunity to say , " what the fuck" , "shut the fuck" or something equally australian and Simon like. But now I have a free reign to say what the " fuck " I like...

and I am normally Never stuck for wordfs. I dont think chicken neck , bottles of wine and guiness helps but the wrds are starting to blur..

but words that do spring to mind are : cocophony , blah , sex with whoever, jaribe de paulo, italia , la flaca, wild turkey , fast cars on snowy roads, very BAD tasting peyote, sexy french jazz bands, SMILES and tall trees, paisley shirts , ALANIS - hahahahhaha - , rubbishhhhh - talking it , Foood , a lost book of mexico , virgin shagging , CruMble Guts... , Fgood, Bicken Chins and al lot lot more...

if memories are the petrol of our life we shall surely be chugging away for a long long time my dear winkle pickle wearing Australian goon...

If life were simple , and I mean simple not in the way James Joyce meant it, we would just be all togther , sitting and talking shit until those winkle pickers turned an ugly shade of brown and melted into the glowing members of our friends for 50p a throw.. and heretherandeverafter my love and winklekisses, Cx

eddie grant puo ciucciare i miei calzini

if they knew i were coming, they would have put on some coloured clothes and decorations...

then i took it higher....

not quite rocking down to nearby electric avenue

lahndahn town is here
so am i
above the far side
the pub
not the comic strip
catherines little place
very cute
and on top of a pub!
in brixton
in lahndahn
a treeep to the laundrette
the marquis of lorne
another traditional old english pub
there are no riots
there are no rich people
there is electric avenue
the very first place in the uk where there was electricity
i learned that today
you know i learned something today...
meet joe black is in telly
a proper pub lunch was had downstairs
with hoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooergarten
feeling kinda seedy
after a late night megabus trip from brisvegas
smokin and drinkin and natterin
talkin the talk
drinkin the red red wine
and red stripe with no cup
then red red rooster wine
slovak spirit
whacky macedonian benzina
catalan creme
other things in groovy bottles with plantlife in tow and faces off
eng bok
didnt get that much of it
v little schleep
munty me
johhnnny
we worry
wont he go on home
from his date with heimi henderson

i look like nicole kidman, almeno e´quello che crede la ste´

Can YOU guess what I am thinking?

ththththth

it rained today is brisvegas
didnt do much
when to the local italian deli
bit dodgy really
prosciutto too thick
mozzarella too bland
piss taking pronto brothers
slept most of the day
stayed up late last night
went to the cadbury
with chris and faisel
no chocolate
groovy pub
curry and pint or 6.50
a visit to ems
a visit to juice
a juice to visit in the pub
she was there
the bar bird looked kinda snaky
and kind of skinny
they asked everybody to move along please
back to juicy and joelandia
for spliff and limoncello
then the thun red line til late
couldnt sleep much
nfi why
quick run down on other things
a couple of nights by the juice in her nice warm house
a couple of nights by the em in her new fab place
a beet of water and stuff all over the shoppe
benji is big with loadsa hair
house is big
with loadsa white and rooms and a great big garden
silly worta making life tricky
yoda is still a luffly miss
just hanging with peeps
hardly riveting stuff

viva brisvegas

The Cadbury house, Richmond Rd, Brisvegas... where nobody lives nearby
emmas house-10 metres further down the road
juicy's house-where the photo was taken from, about 20 metres up the road
jims house-100 metres up the road on the left
Faisels house-120 metres down the road on the left
chriss house-one street down, about 50 metres up the road




sitting in juicy and joe lounge room
here is comfy brisvegas
arrived thursday late
milano malpensa to brisvegas intervallo
juicy and joe come pick me up
what a luvverly feeling
back to casa loro
for beers steers and queers
and a chat
tired juicy goes orf to bed coz shes gotta go to work
next day, not a lot
watch some vids
play on the internerd
eat some munch and make a short trip to the pubbage
emma drops by looking worse for wear
all is good
friday not gone to chris's
crashing at ems fab new pad
with stuff all over the place
including floor on watttta
a luvverly garden
a charming yodacina
all bright shiny houses
big and not bad
drinking wine
eating proper traditional english curries
and the juice loosener smokey bear
between ems and juices there is about 20 metres
or 23 yards
if you are into that kind of thing
and a fab pub
rumoured to be amongst the best in town
the cadbury
big big big beer garden
with pool table and lots of smokers
look
over that fence
its ems place
benji is big
and his hair is bigger
im orf

belin post

ah cazzo, sono in ritardo
sono le 16:49
e devo uscire dalla casa di erik fra 10 minuti
volevo fare un riepologo blog
di queste 3 settimane
e soppratutto di quello 4 giorni un po strani
beh, ormai è troppo tardi
quindi scrivo questo
quanto mi piace questo paese
in 3 settimane mi sono ricordato tanto di perche mi piace cosi tanto
anche perche mi rompe le palle
sono molto contento
la prossima volta che scrivo sara in inghilterra
un mondo diverso
ma non troppo
forse la mia mente avra cambiato marcia
e scrivo in thththththththhhhh
puodarsi...

the blog about doing a blog when you are just about to go out and have dinner blog

last night
la la la la
i had apertivo with mo e ste
in a luvverly vicolo leading down from piazza della meridiana del culo
had a nice wander across the haunted town
past porta soprana
down the rampage thing
groovy chinese type statues all over piazza de ferrari
down via qualcosa di aprile
then thru fontane marose and down via garibaldi or strada nuova
depending on whether you live in a port city that makes the bottom point of the industrial triangle of the north, joining with torino and milano
or a centuries old maritime republic that trades like demons and runs a piracy racket through most of the med
anyway
columns all over the shop
just as i like it
v happy to see ste again
and v happy to chat with mo
3 timpacos and great free munchies
not that measly bowl of crisps like you get in some places
afterwards i was much delighted to see that via garibaldi is lit up each night now
really is a treat that
also molto contento that the centre is looking cleaner than ever
be
sto per uscire a mangiare da mo
anche lo squilibrato verra
quindi faro' un altro giro nel centro storico
mi sento tutto possessivo
se come fosse un pianto mio o un bebe
tomorrow afternoon its train time to milano malpensa to leave this world behind
at least for the moment
mio dio sone belle... che c'e da fare?

where to stick your bacheca

Via Ravecca, a bit up from Eriks place, photo of Porta Soprana taken with some dodgy postcard filter obviously...

its a lovely sunny day her in la superba
at least at the top of the fucking scale it is...
my brain is still playing fog monsters tho
60 hours later and there i was
marvelling at the stupidity of not connecting the underground platforms of piazza principe station to the metropolitana
hence making passengers go up up and up
before going around around and around
then going back down down and down
to get to the metro
which was in effect about 50 metres away
che stupidaggine
and how about that not big hole in piazza sarzano?
it doesnt look quite right without it
instead theres this gleaming sensible pretty metro station
made me giggle and marvel once again at this fantastic ridiculous city and country
lots of bollacks were spoken on friday night
the padrone di casa went out to a pre arranged appointment that he forgot all about
mr mountains excelled himself at banging on about all kinds of crap
forza mr mountains!
the couch cushions keep moving
bastardi
sabato... boh
dinner at the not at all bonkers nadotti household
involving a lot of head butting over whether or not you can make cheese without the knowhow beforehand or if you can just experiment
it went on for hours
i nearly split a rib trying not to laugh
eveningsong bought out a trip to the bicu
mr mountains and paolino
sitting at this huge table by themselves whilst hordes queued angrily and stared
noemi and daniele
squilibrato and me
later marghco showed up
and a lady who looked kind of familiar
this fab place where they give you fab food
big fucking surprise there...
and these fuckoff big 3 litre thingies of home brewed beer that they plonk on your table and you can help yourself
one can imagine how much i hated that
there was apparently some rugby game on, italia versus scozzia
stupid bottom obsessed game if ever there was one
mr mountains was cranky coz he had a crap view of the crap game
and i kept telling him how crap it was
fistsful of this bowser thingsies later there were all kinds of rubbish being spouted
i contributed manfully
somebody found a bear, a grizzly according to mr mountains, because of its face...
i stuck wooden skewers up its butt and called it erik
now it sits beside me with €222,50 written on it
apparently the price of the evenings consumption
piffle and poppycock i say..
stayed up til 9am
much to eriks dismay
watched a film with super terrone in it
then the grand pronto which was a little fuzzy and very rainy
wanted to barf when legend car webber got bumped of the track
after a days sleep
went to paolinos house with a phenomenal view
and ate pizza and watched them try to copy music
what a boon that has been
long live leon!

whilst in napoli, maggots hair is styled by tennisballsrus and he chooses to look at...

Castel St Elmo... is on top of a hill, this photograph was obviously taken errr on top of that...

A rubbish view from Castello Sant Elmo...

Il maschio angioino... the week before i showed up

Il maschio angioino.... this week is mostly wearing traffic

not in bastardo

Madonna della stella, the residence of the lovely Tiziana and Gaia... Named after the religious building here, which in turn was named coz some fool claimed to have seen the madonna coming from a star... yes, yes and i saw a goat doing back flips on a floating egg whilst listening to Pop Will Eat Itself and with knee high stilettos on...

i am so very near to bastardo
its just up the road
but i will not go there this time
i feel no need
just being in its vicinity works for me
denail does too at times
i have been doing an epic translation for tiziana
a tourist guide to montefalco
serious shit involving not little brain power
but i really enjoyed it
i hope at some point to get a copy of it and put it here for nobody to read
i have now learnt
and immediately forgotten a zillion words for different bits of churches
ho hum
i need more sleep
the fold out couch here is a beast
no back support leaves a beaver with dodgy parts
last night we had spiedini with salad and yummy sagrantino
mozzarelle, salami, pane fresco and tanti cose buone
in my usual delicate way
trying to be helpful
i broke the handle on tizianas dishwasher
che furbo che sono
birri is sleeping on the couch
the most talkative cat ive ever encountered
tonight i am going to a party for a teacher who is leaving somewhere and something
to be the pesce tropicale extraordinaire
i cant remember the ninna nanna that starts... go to sleep little baby...
i have also, corrected english homework and helped gaia with her english translations
i havent used the brain like this for nyears
how long?
tiziana is sick of umbria, she wants to go live by the sea
gaia has a punky hairdo
and a certain rob just cant say no
big thanks to father who's credit on uk sim has been enormously helpful
i wish i knew what i was looking for
might i know where i would sleep
im under the same milky way as ever
the view is just a little different...

hot and sweaty in napoli

8 am naples
the fattest bastard ever is sweating in a hostel
a weekend of amazing food and amazing scenery
most of it being from a distance
doppio malt beers on a thursday night in central naples town
random discussion about spirits and dancing
followed by complete bollocks discussions with backpackers from all over the world in a drunken haze
saturday morning in a blaze of heat wander to the port to get a coach
coaching with muzak to the country
una famiglia simpatica
soo much food
salamis, pasta, pizza .. the real thing
amazing views from cliff tops
spectacular fireworks
amalfi,ravallo... quasi quasi carina quanto lei
feeling kinda dodgy
more amazing food
yummy beer and gorgeous icecream
meeting countless kind and interesting people
and a couple of cool doggois
wine, liquors and vegetables all from home
attempting luring of bellezza to far away climes
stories of animals less and more cude and cuddly
more and less venomous and bitey
driving in truly italian style around curves and great speed
late night beerings and random conversations in some strange tongue
spectacular panorame costiale
cheeky cigarettes and cheekier eyes and smile
la nonna 91enne
fortunatemente sa parlare in italiano
searching for cheap flights to beneththththuela
cheaper flights to albion
what to do,where to do it and who to do it
this drug is pulling me in...
e quanto è bella

vivo e vegeto (quasi)

dear world
i am alive and king terrone
after an epic 40 hour voyage i am safely ensconsed in a hostel in napoli. It bit. the beavismachine to melby hairport, a fight and a missed plane, another plane to sillyney, a big wait, a messican bloke who suffered my spanish, a plane to taipei where there was no george, but tasty snack treats and a dodgy shower...a plane to bangkok where i walked 2 kilmotres to end up in the same place, a plane to rome, where it all became funny, a train to roma termini, with some south efricans, a train to naples with some carine napoletane who invited me to see gigi d'alessio and who werent super impressed when i said that he was shite.. a fake metropolitana, another fake metropolitana, a wander in a street and a dead me in a sneaky corner...
The hostel is fab, there is even a lawn to lounge on, which is a large rarity in this country.
last night i went out with the bella laura, che è veramente bella....and her simpatici friends and brother....
its like falling off a bike and waking up in a place that sounds and smells familiar, like it should be an old friend, but the brain doesnt want to adapt...
its luffly and warm here and all the people speak this super language that is somewhere in the recesses of my brain.
now i am going awaaaaaaaaaaay and back to bed
as tonight apparently i am going to a bar called 'kinky', but its apparently nothing to do with touching culos and more about reggae... mon
un saluto cordiale a tutto il mondo
one limebeaver that is not there, but more likely here...
if this sparks an interest, this is the site of my hostel where i am old...but my ability to swear in italian has earned me much respec.......t
this hostel is.....
http://www.lacontrora.com/

just popping down the shops for 40 hours to get some milk

starting off at shat-oh beavouirvis at bloody horrible oclock

a snifty early morning drive in his motor

to riveting melby airport, where was farked about by twats and missed the plane

fortunately i was 4444 hrs early for connection so get next flight full of business nobs

to syddely haiport, where chatted to some mexican and waiiiiited and marvelled at all the rugby-the crappest-game-possibly-ever world *cough* cup bullshit they were peddling...

before boarding air *cough* china plane to....

fascinating chang kai-shek aiport in taiwan, where i sat around a bit more and most certainly DID NOT meet anybody called George.. did have a tricky shower tho and became most pleased with self

before getting another toasty flight

to shiny new bangers airport, and walked 2 kms to end up 10 metres away from where i started..

before getting back on plane that had chilled out by now... and flew for bloody ages...

to roma little river band aiport... its like falling off a bus and landing on your abductor muscles...

and getting on the fiumicino train to roma town, chatting with some seth efricans about being careful of gyspsies and not giving a crap about rugby

wasted further time, fended off scumbag who wanted to help me used ticket machine coz i look like a gringo...rang erik..

got the not really that fast intercity train to napoli.... wondered if head was going to fall off and chatted to 2 pretty ladies going to a gigi d'alessio gig there

to napoli centrale... where i wasnt hassled by scumbags, much to my surprise.. was all this chat about terroni all propaganda?



found my way to the ´'metro'



tried to figure this out with head listing dangerously...

changed trains from line bananabanglschlop to line mountfalltechnics and was subjected to horrible ads on monitors on platforms and excessive fucking about

head may have actually fallen off on this train...

finally arrived at salvator rosa station... what?

and hoofed it downhill to the hostel... which isnt really designed for smurfs

post chiang restaurant

tonight i ate at post chiang restaurant
now what does that put in your mind?
next thursday i will be eating at pre mao bakery and sconehouse
wednesday next i will be going to the mid trotsky foot massage and burger bar
is all this sounding a bit silly?
how about in august when i slurped myself silly at the early Haile Selassie's udon eatery
or got really drunk at late Idi Amin's All Night Boozer
desperate for material?
I bet you've never been to recently deceased Arafat's Dry Cleaner on a tuesday
or The soon to be Stephen Biko motorbike rental shack over by the hump
what is he like anyway?
the up and coming pol pot horticultural studies campus is an old fave
just over from the patchy time related adverbial Lumumba opticians
how far can an envelope be pushed then?
the never met him Nasser water purifying and crocodile husbandry convent was never to o shabby
and the where his head at JFK library of astrophysics research
but you probably knew that already
i would recommend the temporal suspension of Túpac Amaru's barrel of balm delights
but its quite a bus trip from wont be back for brunch William Wallace's toothpick emporium
the slippery slope? get your own...
downright whiffy by now Archduke Franz Ferdinand Lounge and Lavatory shoppe is always on the go
but the groove is better at just popped out for a plant and pen Llywelyn ap Gruffydd Hip Joint
is is over yet? my cheeks are turning blue...
not as blue as its all over chief sitting bull bottom's vinyl emporium and milk stand
as for frozen Rasputin's lurrrrv and other things saucy parlour...
just dont mention Garibaldi... he's been through enough already

post chiang restaurant

unloved blog thang

poor blog thang
nobody loves it
not least a non contributing bAffoon
or any non contributing bAfoons for that matter
its hardly like there was dastardly deeds to be done
not a lot too much more pressing
the camels are self watering
and trevor from over the road and down a bit
was doing his bit by hauling the moon into place every evening
sleep was never an issue
there wasnt any
work didnt get in the way
there wasnt any
its not like social engagement were beating the door down either
it was pure neglect that hurt the blog so
perhaps that shall change now
with the new regime in place in tanganyika
maybe some affection will be lavished on it
and the oxen salad days shall return
i await with interest the outcome
but i fear that for the short term at least things arent super rosy
sporadic at best is the lay of the land
although there might be something for interesting to see than this drivel...

worst blog ever

ive got nothing to say
its better to fuck off than to sleet a popinjay

robbage gets crankage

stolen from the south wales evening post...

DRIVER'S FURY OVER PARKING TICKETS ROW
9 readers have commented on this story. Click here to read their views.
RICHARD YOULE
RICHARD.YOULE@SWWMEDIA.CO.UK

09:00 - 24 August 2007

A Furious motorist is demanding to be reimbursed for hundreds of pounds' worth of parking tickets issued on a road police say should be exempt from parking charges.Mumbles lifeboat crew member Rob Jenkins said he has received between 15 and 20 tickets over the past 18 months after leaving his car on Castle Road beyond the specified one-hour time limit.

But police said on Wednesday that parking restrictions could not be enforced there because of incorrect signage. That has been denied by Swansea Council, who yesterday said the signs looked okay.

The police claimed the traffic restrictions on the road were unenforceable after a traffic warden had been spotted leaving his Ford Focus there all day while going around the village checking on other cars.

They said he hadn't done anything wrong, and that other motorists should not be ticketed for leaving their cars there either.

However, Mr Jenkins has had to stump up well over £500.

"I'm normally very level-headed, but I'm boiling," he said.

"In the past 18 months I have had 15 to 20 parking tickets in the spot where the warden was parking.

"My business was next door, in Newton Road, and I needed my car close by in case there was a call-out from the lifeboat station.

"I have no problem paying for the tickets. But if this warden does not have to pay, it's completely wrong."

Mr Jenkins said he wrote to the police after receiving one ticket asking if they would consider giving him special dispensation because he was a member of the lifeboat crew.

But they replied, saying if they allowed him to park there they would have to do the same for all other emergency workers.

In yesterday's statement to the Post, South Wales Police explained why the traffic warden had not done anything wrong.

"Some of the signage and road markings in the Mumbles area are not compatible with the Traffic Legislation Order, which means that we, the police, cannot enforce the law in these areas," said a spokeswoman.

"When there is a fault with signage, the police report it to the local authority, in accordance with the Traffic Legislation Order, for them to carry out the necessary work.

"We referred this matter to the authority more than two years ago.

"This traffic warden was, therefore, not committing an offence because this road is one of the defective roads, and any member of public that has parked on a defective road within the last two years can be assured that they, too, have not been issued with a parking ticket."

She added that Castle Avenue and Queens Road also had the same faulty signs.

Hundreds of motorists could now launch an appeal against parking tickets that have been dished out to them on the roads.

But Swansea Council said it was not aware of the problem.

A spokesman said: "It is normal practice for the local police, who have responsibility for enforcing parking restrictions, to inform us of any issues relating to signage and traffic orders.

"However, in this case we are not aware of any issues.

"We are currently investigating the locations the Evening Post has highlighted.

"If there are any faults or irregularities then the necessary amendments will be made."

He added: "An officer has been there to inspect the signs and said they were enforceable."



Your Views
I think that Adrian Lewis is totally missing the point of the issue, Rob Jenkins needs his car close at hand in case he is called out to deal with an emegency,Adrian lewis obviously has a gripe because he has to pay to park his car, why shouldn't he? the disabled area's to park are located closer to amenities, this doesn't mean that it should be free parking, that's what running a car is all about!! come on give Rob Jenkins a chance he is offering his service to the RNLI for nothing.
Jim Hopkin, Swansea


what the hell is up with this world ,for god sake the man is on standby for the lifeboat,and as with all 999 calls you state that seconds saves lives but you give this man a ticket for parking when he will drop is own income to save a life free of charge, and if you dont understand that message i will spell it out loud ! SECONDS SAVES LIVES ,wake up
eric shire, wirral


totally agree that if the lifeboat crew are on a job they should be able to park without some jobsworth sticking a ticket on their car.the crew at cleethorpes have designated parking so come on you councillors get it sorted, remember one day it might be one of your family that need the services of the RNLI
trevor stockdale, grimsby


This is sickening man - c'mon these people are selfless heroes and put our lives and safety above their own, Swansea council, you should be ashamed - REALLY ASHAMED. There should be parking dispensation for all emergency workers who are on call. Get your act together before it's one of your own who needs to be rescued.
Mark Owen, Stockport


Adrian, I am disabled too.Everytime i get a chance i am taken to Mumbles.I don`t mind paying for parking.I`m there for enjoyment. The RNLI should be allowed free parking,( or even a special area, where only they can park) Lifeboat personnel are there to save lives.Seconds count, maybe someone you know would need their services one day.That`s how i always look at it.Imagine the uproar if someone drowned because parking their vehicles took far too long. i think the council should give back the money Robert has paid them too. Thank goodness we have people like Robert always there to protect people enjoying themselves.I thank you all
carol ann, swansea


We need these guys,and girls, so come on Swansea, give them a break, free parking for the lifeboat crew, Lives are saved throught their generosity. Manic Mumbles parking is awful during the summer months anyway.
carol, swansea


I am a disabled driver and i got to pay to park whenever i am in Mumbles, as there is no consession for blue badge users. I believe that if disabled drivers have to pay then every other driver has to pay, not one rule for one and a different rule for others. (radiokaos)
Adrian Lewis, Port Talbot


yet again, more evidence that enforcement officers are above the law themselves. If they can park there for no penalty, then the general public should be able to also. I also fully support that lifeboat crew should be exempt from parking fines.
miles thomas, clydach


lifeboatman charged for parking makes me sick come on swansea council get your own house in order.i know robert jenkins from a time i meet him in myc after going to thank horton lifeboat boy/girls for going out to try and save my late sons life.robert is a very level headed chap and he said to me that day something that got me into fundraising for the rnli and i thank rob for what he said to me.these guys are life savers and very good ones if these roads were even marked propley the rnli guys of mumbles should be exempt from parking tickets.mumbles is only a small village and at this time of year these guys need to park somewhere because if there pagers go off they need to get to the lifeboat station at a moments notice to go and save lives not to be slapped in the face with parking tickets.i hope you get your money back robert when these pen pushers realise there wrong
steven wood, morriston

fizzing and frothing

today is the anniversary of our mighty lordy lordy's sleep deprivation campaign
she slammed down a barrage of brain activity
hurled down bolts of stress and headfuck
leaving things rather blurred and confused
a chance discovery threw cats upside down and golden balls over yonder
all reason and logic was discarded quicker than a quick thing doing quick things
impulsiveness or spontaneity?
bloody impulsiveness of course...
get on the phone and ask a question
what about george?
what about tiziana?
what about catherine?
what about robbages?
what about embles?
what about juicifer?
what about squilibrato?
what about fighe?
and so on, and so forth and soap dodger
book and ring and email and waaaaaaaaaaaah
that bloke said this
and how about that
squeam and squirm to escape the pit, master gravedigger
bite the bullshit and cough up the smalls
this new fascist regime to stop buttfoons like me booking all and sunday
arses
but what about george?
and how about the fuckwits at bastardlink?
and can i defeat keynsianism with an invasion of 'east' st kilda
splitters with stupid hats and hair
a weekend of popping and sparking
emails and calls
texts and trousers
a million hours on hold, fighting the corner in the darkness
wait, hold, dance a little lower
dont sleep
theres too much to do
theres too much to ponder and ruminate
theres too much sort
theres too much to argue
theres too much to agonize
theres the frustration dammit!
drop off but then come flying back
dont forget that!
where will i sleep in 23 cities in 1009 countries?
resolution beyond the solution
improbable in the foremost
prostrating and giving big come hither looks at mistress trub
the possibility of being outflanked on 17 different flanks simulataneously
all can and will go wrong
a fool just cerimoniously released the catches and sent me plummeting into the shite
lucky im a super swimmer in it
bring it on
after a little lie down first
i'm exhausted

youre my wife now dave

look into my black eyes dave
i shall put you in animals
dont dare ask how
nor why for that matter
your toilet is blocked up dave
i most certainly didnt do it
dont worry dave
i will fix it
my wife can read your palms dave
hold out your bottom leg
they arent children dave
they are just challenged
and they may touch the precious things
is that you dave?
oh
is dave there dave?
ok dave
you are picking up momentum dave
pick up the handbrake
then put it back down again
im not srue itll make any difference
watch my spittle drop on my boots dave
its easier to see from under there
dont tie me up to the bed dave
not without a seated knife and breadbutter
dont mention the war dave
it isnt my makeup you are smearing dave
it isnt a blonde wig
or my affected voice dave
youre my wife now dave....

big pie hair slap

didnt we have a lovely day
the day we went to PAs
the sun twittering
the sky was flowing
the birds were brilliant
the bad music was kept in check for a time
the coopers was delish
and the beef and stout pie
it was very beefy and might stout
there was him, her and those fellas
there were late coming chips
there was a silly frilly handbag
some silly big sunglasses
a cesare salad with chicken that cesare never ate
what came first, the keel or the fish?
the rowing wankers seemed receding
lots of chappy chaps and girlie girls
munching and quaffing
puffing and chatting
setting the world to wrongs
twere huge that pah
frightfully so
t man backed one in
k bop drove one thru
nothing much else really
just a small drop in an inconsistent ocean of motion
then somebodies unmentionables got in the way...

his great new girlfriend

errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

the planet................................arium

someone went to the planet
arium
it was fab
there were layback chairicles
spinning night skies
close up from bubbles trubblescope
pretty pictures and lots of sniggering at gaseous form, black holes, uranus and beavis
how silly are the constellations?
yeah those three stars look like a goat riding a dolphin wearing chain mail on a wednesday under the fleur de lys doesnt it?
the southern skies have rubbish constellations; the twisties packet and the the shrub
the resident astrofoologismist was fab, and very sexy in her green top
afterwards there was wine and yummy cheese nibblies
not a spot on cold chups tho..
this planet
arium can be found on the wrong side of the river
in spots
wood
which is nearby to foots
cray
miles away from elt
ham
though
there was no brainwashing
i didnt walk out planning on renaming all multi syllable suburbs
through force if necessary
imagine the chaos
if ringwood became ring
wood
or northcote became north
cote
or frankston became franks
ton
all inferno would break loose!
could you live in a city infested with such bastard offspring entities as;
mel
bourne,
gee
long,
black
burn,
el
wood,
haw,
thorn,

pres
ton,
carl
ton,
fitz
roy,
rich,
mond
and so on and blahdy blahdy bollock drops

Kev's barmitzvah orgy

it was a dark and not particularly stormy night
sleep wasnt playing footsies under the table
the party started early
maybe 4ish
a likely lady darkened a doorstep
a fleet of masturbikes drove up
one at a time
pounding ear drums and shaking foundations
and making those little insects a bit uptight
things turned to motorbike chat
i turned off
high trousers sneaked in the dooooor
and some ickle girl
it got rather smoky round these parts
and rather beery
enough of this, it was time to hightail it to the festy
it drizzled on your grande puffo
inside it were nice and warm
and toilets
after overenthusiastic seeking a booth was procured
and shoe phones were handed around to all
so we could play shoe phone in the booth parade
it wasnt quite what i had hoped for
but i had been hoping against hope
futile one might say
also arrivering were fellow workers from Kevs sheet metal carvery
a couple of dodgy repute
a sleeping giant from the midlands
and ron (no relation to the drink)
Beaver took his packaging away for short while
in search of some housing
only to arrive later with more kids than you could poke a 23 pronged kid poking stick at
and penis extension man
the false moustaches were a treat
the guitar heroics were... well
heroically up somebody's alley
Dr Whodunnit black graped everything that moved
the kids played pattycake pattycake
the pe man valiantly tried something on
maybe it was a moustache
the kids moved on to finger painting
but dropped their fingers in their drinks
wahhhhhhhhhhhhhh said kid no.1
bwooooooooooo said kid no.2
bnaaaaaaaaaaaar said kid no.3 (not very convincingly)
PE man adjusted his new moustache
Mr Plastics pulled them apart and bought their silence with wowwwwie pops
the fantastic shouty family couldnt make it
but we all did our best in their absence
and then it became too much
so it was off to the prince of darkness
crossed legged, virgin baiting, goat worshipping
but they are gay!
cried a boner
aftershock upon aftershock
not really, it was much beerier
a long lost courier kestrel glided in most gracefully
but by this point they thought it was all over
and it might as well have been
ooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh yeah

should i wait or should i go... plink plink

with valued contributions from Lady chuckletrousers and Lord Whom...

wait;
i want to be around kez as much as possible
i want to kill dave cant do it from overseas
dont be an assmunch
pay off some debts
better weather
possibly cheaper airfare
better networking possibilities, time to sort stuff out
more possibilities of rooting them in the ear
another year older
being sensible
good chance of missing kezs bday
ems got a pad to crash at?
could catch Gab

go;
coz its my bag baby
immediate holiday
celebrate my money honey
i wont spend all on crap
get it out of the way
meet great new tortellini whilst still interested
get away from beavis soon
fuck off me
less chance of getting hypergonadism
would diet vitamin d thing fark it up?

conclusion-che cazzo ne so io?

she gives umm, if you go to her...

last year it was for flowers
this year its a massage voucher
from the 70's
they call him dr slaughter
i dont think thats a tough name
it was really good fun, it was hilarious
i just gave up and went fuck this
why did you need a photo
i can meet you somewhere in the middle
have i gone insane
there was an ad
im sure it was good
and i cant even find beavis'
highly creative and passionate designer
id rather shoot myself
i dont give a shit
she said... oh yeah
she loves to rub shit in
what is it with people
she knew jessie and jessie knew jacinda
his bullshit rubs off on her
try to pick something more original
he wont do anything to fix it
if i ever see him again
i heard that youre bananas
and anyone who sounds remotely interesting
noone ever asks about drugs
she was totally fucking confused
im constantly out at marathons
in darwin
slim pickings this week
and youve got all them nutty birds after you
that wasnt a girlfriend
you bunch of fuckers
you could actually write something on there
you bunch of fuckers
then it started to hurt
thats what happens i think
he had to come in here to get his bike from the garage
did you knock on the door
poor guy
he gets very crabby
i love the hair

a top notch high quality classy profound blog

not bloody likely

Ghengis the big saucepot

stolen from;
Sunday March 2, 2003
The Observer
http://observer.guardian.co.uk/uk_news/story/0,6903,906044,00.html

We owe it all to superstud Genghis

Warlord Khan has 16m male relatives alive now, says study

One in every 200 men alive today is a relative of Genghis Khan. An international team of geneticists has made the astonishing discovery that more than 16 million men in central Asia have the same male Y chromosome as the great Mongol leader.

It is a striking finding: a huge chunk of modern humanity can trace its origins to Khan's vigorous policy of claiming the most beautiful women captured during his merciless conquest.

'One thirteenth century Persian historian claimed that within a century of Khan's birth, his enthusiastic mating habits had created a lineage of more than 20,000 individuals,' said team leader Dr Chris Tyler-Smith. 'That now appears to account for around 8% of the men in central Asia.'

The team, from Britain, Italy, China and Uzbekistan, took tissue samples from 2,000 men from central Asia, and studied each one's Y chromosome, the genetic package that confers maleness and is passed only from father to son.

'Y chromosomes belonging to different men vary slightly. One in every 5,000 DNA units is not the same,' said Tyler-Smith. 'But when we looked at our results, we found a huge group that did not show any differences. We were absolutely amazed.'

One researcher, Tatiana Zerjal, even suggested they had found the genetic footprint of Khan. 'It was just a joke,' added Tyler-Smith. 'Then we began to look more closely at our results, and realised it was the only really feasible explanation for what we had found.'

First the team, whose results are published in the latest edition of the American Journal of Human Genetics, found the geographical spread of possessors of the chromosomes almost exactly matched that of Genghis's empire, which stretched from China to the Middle East. Then they discovered that all of these men shared a common ancestor. Again the answer was consistent with the march of Khan, who lived between 1162 and 1227.

'There are only two ways a single Y chromosome can make such a mark on a population,' Tyler-Smith said. 'The chromosome could in some way confer its owners with some biological advantage. But given that a Y chromosome is little more than a biochemical switch that turns an embryo into a male child, it is hard to see how it could have such an effect.

'The other explanation is that its original possessor had some incredible social advantage over other Y chromosome possessors, allowing its owner to pass it on, over and over again. Khan fits that bill perfectly. He had many wives, and was enthusiastic in his attentions to other women.

When Mongol armies attacked, their spoils were shared among the troops and officers, with one exception. The most beautiful women were reserved for Khan.

The study also sided with the Hazara people of northern Pakistan, whose claim to be direct descendants of Khan is derided by historians. It found the Hazaras' Y chromosomes were identical to those they had already linked to Khan.

'It is not the first time the oral tradition has been proved more reliable than academic treatise,' he added. 'It takes the power of genetics to prove it, however.'

repent

build your own mink sanctuary
stop ligging mine

gategategate

first there was watergate
then there came bungate
whitewatergate
irancontragate
too many bloody gates
followed quickly by stepneygate
portfoliofuckingate
even bloody toiletgate
sitrightdownandwhittleawayatmychairgate
whats with all this neglect of toilets?
toilets have feelings too you know
anybody going to go on about watertoilet?
profumotoilet
thebottomoftheharbourtoilet
archdukeferdinandtoilet
childrenoverboardtoilet
gatetoilet? - not bloody likely
it doesnt seem right to me
why should gates get all the bright lights and unfettered adoration?
strutting about like they own the place
but owing nothing to any particular skill or outstanding achievement
but they strut the world stage with shameless abandon
winking in their graceful gateish manner at the snapping cameras
as the sheepish masses dream that they too had been born a gate
but no...
does anyone lay awake at night wishing they were a toilet?
do young children bleat at their mothers demanding to know why they too can't be a toilet?
No, No and No
Equal rights for toilets now!

staring into the abysmal

it looks dark down there
kind of windy too
perhaps its just a gust or something
i cant make out the other side
nor the bottom
and whats that odour?
i dont believe in hell
so it cant be sulfur and hellfire
it does kind of smell sulfur like though
like some kind of year 9 experiment
overseen by some zealot of perversion
perhaps with a beard
perhaps with long shorts
and long socks
not that theres anything wrong with that...
i wonder what it feels like
that weightless, senseless feeling
hang on just a moment
i know that feeling
i wouldnt mind it again
but with the disclaimer that it couldnt possibly end
the bliss without reason
and beyond any termination
a gut wrenching, logic defying certainty
you force yourself to leap
but every cell is screaming NOOOOOOOOOo
you defy nature
instincts overidden
some kind of self preservation thing that is nigh on impossible to fight
but you defeat it
in desperation perhaps?
after all fight or flight has been around since dolphins were monkeys
ive never met any
perhaps ebabes was on something
more than likely
especially that thing about chopping off the hosties hands...
what brought that on?
did she ask you to turn off your mobbily or was she just american?
thatd be enuff for me
unless she was adrianne... che figa!
back to the pit and the master grave digger
who was that man
in the pit
that is i master grave digger
fuck its hard to have gravitas at times
perhaps there is no other side
perhaps there is not bottom
so
leap or turn back
but turn back to what exactly?
swivel to see a castle on a sunlight hill?
or maybe a desolate moonscape stretching into the perma gloom?
vision imperfect
not one that i made... mind
it might well be quite nice over yonder hillock
pillock
turn your shoulders to the gaping beckoning chasm
set your nose into the wind
and check out what really is over there
around that allegorical corner
beyond that metaphorical tumescence
now everything is lovely
a one and a two and a three and a four...

Big, gay Smithers.....

Moe: "...and I'm taking your favorite song out of the jukebox."
Homer: "'It's Raining Men?'"
Moe: "Yeah, not no more it ain't."
When a record thrown by Moe hits Smithers in the head, Smithers appears to get excited when he sees the record's title "It's raining Men."

When Burns is overcome with emotion, he tells Smithers that he loves him. Smithers replies, "The feeling is more than mutual, sir."

During the nuclear meltdown scare, Smithers makes Burns' last few moment on earth socially awkward by confessing his love for the old man. When Springfield Nuclear Power Plant is about to suffer catastrophic meltdown. Burns remarks "I guess there's nothing left but to kiss my sorry ass good-bye." Smithers asks, "May I, sir?"

When Burns asks Smithers what he thought if he started sniffing his crotch and slobbering all over him. Smithers replies, "If you did it, sir?"

When Burns fantasies about Marge, he asks Smithers about that dream where you're in bed and they fly in through the window. Smithers groans with pleasure, imagining Burns himself flying through his bedroom window. Smithers says, "You've been reading my wishbook, sir."

When Burns and Smithers attend the ballet, Burns says, "Bah! Far too much dancing, not nearly enough prancing!" To which, Smithers replies, "A little mincing would be nice."

When Lisa seeks Smithers for help in contacting the inventor of Malibu Stacey, Smithers gets the information from his home computer. When he turns the computer on, the computer screen shows a nude Burns that utters in broken English: "Hello, Smithers. You're quite good at turning me on."

In this episode, Smithers basically shows a lot of resentment towards Burns courting Marge's mother. When Burns asks for help in composing a love letter, Smithers recites "`Darling one, read my words and hear my heart speak of a love soft and undying: a love that will be with you always. Sincerely,' yatta, yatta, yatta." Burns asks how he thought it up so fast. Smithers cries, "I sent it to you on your birthday! [sob] Excuse me, I have something in my eye!"

Burns asks Smithers to take off his belt; Smithers replies, "with pleasure, sir."

Smithers is "caught on film" leaving a burlesque house. Burns demands an explanation; Smithers replies, "My parents insisted I give it a try."

Smithers is a little unsetted when Burns asks him if he was doing something gay. "You know, lighthearted, fancy-free, mothers lock up your daughters, Smithers is on the town." Smithers replies, "Exactly, sir," followed by darting eyes.

In a restaurant Smithers discovers John, who is a homosexual, eating dinner with the Simpson family, and becomes upset.
Smithers: So this is your "sick mother"?
John: Don't do this to me, Waylon.

Smithers is head of the "Waylon Smithers Dancers" on "The Simpson Family Smile-Time Variety Hour." Plus, he performs a slightly-altered version of Devo's "Whip It" while wearing a pair of very revealing chaps.

In Homer's gymnastics flashback, we see a young Smithers at a microphone saying, "Well, that's the end of the girls' floor exercises, now let's bring on the men!"

When Lisa's message-rocket breaks into Mr. Burns's office and lands in his suit, the old man tells Smithers he has "a rocket in my pocket." Waylon's knowing reply: "You don't have to tell me, sir."

During the "In the Navy" musical number, Smithers is seen dancing next to the Village People.

When Mr. Burns goes through his lunch, he comes across... "One jar of garlic pickles. No one will want to kiss me after these, eh Smithers?" "It's their loss, sir."

bastard, bastard, bastard universe

In your infinite ear

the klinsey report

have a blonde mullet
play for good teams-Samp
play for bad teams-Spurs
get loads of goals
dive like a swan with diving boots on
score a LOT
move to the united states of bollocks
manage the national team
get third
get happy
get out

what envil ordered for dessert

lashings of wilderbeest with pilchards woven into their beards
3 braised hammerhead sharks (heads stuffed with camel)
a dozen oxens in goat sauce
a nuclear family of woolly mammoths dipped in haggis juice
7 emporer penguins steamed in crab water
a school of swordfish suspended under goat dripping
roasted pterydactyls with dodo carpaccio
tasmian tiger steaks with bull ant paste
a single blue whale filled with cow intestines
the last auroch with a bad attitude
a 60 metre giant squid basted with baboon arse
17 highland cows with weaves
2 overfed saber toothed tigers with horse blood dipping sauce
a delightful brontosauras and diplodocus platter
3 camel trains with extra hoof
a shoal of dugongs rammed with caviar
146 geese, force fed to foie gras fever
4 sea lions with fluffy kitten noodles
silverback gorilla sausages
a horde of roast boars with neanderthal tricep pancakes
white rhino testes topped with sharks fin fingers
12 metric tonnes of wichety grubs, deep fried in lard
rat nipple chips
8 salt water crocodiles filled with tree kangaroo ears
10 toucans with earth worm coating
a mating pair of polars bears, stuffed with panda bears
one pack approximately of wolverines

and a cherry

i know better than you... so bog off

one night a motley crew went to a vegetarian restaurant in downtown St Pancreas
it was hard to get any good munch that wasn't secretly stuffed or laced with animal products
such was the indignation in all right minded members of the party that seating was re-arranged stealthily to resemble a yurt
'that'll show those backwards bastards' said one leading troublemaker
as she made some trouble
whether they were shown or not remains open to speculation
because a display of hands was held under the table
which didnt clarify all that much
except that there wasn't any chewing gum under said tables
with more than casaul righteousness they perused alain menu
how refreshing it is to be able to chooose something more than chips
said a vegan with square glasses
before banging on horribly about what a big wanker he was
it was easy for this lot feel pleased about their lives
the group agreed on the save the planet macrobiotic vegatarian feast
macrobiotic hommus for starters
with miso soup and tofu
bread made from only the best treated wild ryes
mains were lentils and kidney bean consomme
carrot souffle with lashings of soy cream and or yoghurt
braised pumpkin, stuffed with seeds and nuts
and a vegetable soup with quorn and nut cutlet steaks
ahhh what an ethical gourmet feast!
they gorged themselves and indulged in some organic wine
because they didnt abuse themselves in the world they live in...
conversation varied from the relative habitability of a geodesic dome
to the marvellous sacrifices made by snotty who lived in a tunnel under the motorway between bongford and slapmore
and the merits of marijuana grown in horse diahorrea as opposed to sloth stools...
remarkably, there was great accord
and then Envious Envil called for the dessert menu...

toxic vomit executives

they were rubbish

fugu me

it all was hairy
mainly the aurochs
a spider with an attitude
a few spiders without hats
some bogan milds
battery plains
all that bloody electricity talking bollocks
bloody arses
silly scamming greek men
without washing machines
I should have pointed something out
about which i didnt know a cazzo
what a fecking debacle
the first decade
i had no idea
as if i would have and idea
what am i
some kind of electricity smelling shoefearer?
vaffanculo
3 days of hours of silly blah blah
makepeace makeweight
then bokko!
everything is lovely again
no need for drillomaticus fantasticus
its all up and rosy cheeked dimishing daisy
super
thanks for asking
and all the flim flam and tiredness
dont ask the question of yourself
theres no point growing there
going out for gude times?
staying putt for the 13th green grass of holmes?
shilly was shallied
shimmies were shuddered
and its fucked up, up and awwwaaaaaaaayter
the swinging lantern of good fortune
one course banana
two course banana
three course banana
and so on bananas and bananas
dead fish
live rice
tempura in a soup of yummy sobers
beans of bread
soup of the day
dumplings of love
pretty colours and burning nostrils
a beverage
chief sitting green tea
honey money
and straaaaaaaaawerburried
a long list of wild animals basted for another day

all the greats...

Mr. Jolly: Listen, just because my surname is Jolly doesn't mean I am jolly all the fucking time!

Mr. Jolly: And no-one knows you're here?

Nicholas Parsons: Excuse me? Can I use your phone?
Mr. Jolly: Fuck off!
Nicholas Parsons: I'm Nicholas Parsons, can I...
Mr. Jolly: Fuck off!
Nicholas Parsons: I'm...
Mr. Jolly: I heard you the first time, I don't care if you're Bob fucking Monkhouse. Fuck off. Do I need to spell it out for you? F-U-C...

Dreamytime Escort: Let's play a game. I go out of the room... and then... I come back in. Have you got that? Right. I'll go first.

Dreamytime Escort, Dreamytime Escort: Escorts, bescorts - Come in if you're saucy!
Dreamytime Escort: Nicholas bloody Parsons!
Dreamytime Escort: Morning, Ralph, how's the cuddly-toy business?
Mr. Jolly: Who the fuck are you?
[pause, then quickly]
Mr. Jolly: Oh, right. It's lovely thanks.

Dreamytime Escort: Well, that's Fattie's money out of the window.
Dreamytime Escort: And Fattie.
Dreamytime Escort: Well, it was his own fault. When drunk you should never play "who
can jump out of the window the best."
Dreamytime Escort: Especially on the 18th floor.

Dreamytime Escort: Look, all I'm saying is you can't have an advert in the Times that says, "What are you doing this weekend, fancy getting drunk?" You have to put the telephone number!
Dreamytime Escort: But we know the telephone number!

Dreamytime Escort: We've got a booking! A Mr Yakimoto
Dreamytime Escort: Oh great, another French bastard.

Dreamytime Escort: What could be better than living above an off-license?
Dreamytime Escort: Living in one?
Dreamytime Escort: You're right. We need to become much more friendly with Heimi Henderson

Dreamytime Escort: It's not fair. I mean, what's Mr Jolly got that we haven't got?
Dreamytime Escort: Our Fairy Liquid.

Dreamytime Escort: One thousand, five hundred and seventy four gin and tonics please Monica.
Dreamytime Escort: LARGE ones.

Policeman: Are you drunk, sir?
Dreamytime Escort: Of course I am, I'm out of my bloody mind, I've just spent three thousand quid in there.

Dreamytime Escort: So, Nicholas. I suppose you spend most of your time opening supermarkets and heliports, these days.
Nicholas Parsons: Well, yes. You... You know how it is. As a matter of fact tomorrow I am opening an off-license.
Dreamytime Escort: [both Dreamytime Escorts stare at Nicholas] You're opening an off-license?
Nicholas Parsons: yes, an off-license.
Dreamytime Escort: GOD! Imagine being so important you can open an off-license!
Dreamytime Escort: And we're with him right now, aren't we Nicky baby?

Dreamytime Escort: Yes yes yes, it's a fantastic house, Nicholas. Now. Have you got any dirty films?
Nicholas Parsons: No!
Dreamytime Escort: You BASTARD!

non e' che ti dico una cazzata qualsiasi

sono stanco
non capisco piu il perche
il mio vocabulario mi sta abbandonando
semmai non bastasse la tastiera sbagliata
mi ero stufato di sbattere la testa contro quei libri
dov'e il relax?
io non ci poteva farne piu
le foibe, il rotazione degli ortiche, quel tipo che amava il duce
la poverta della campania, ma non si chiama campania
quindi ho cambiato idea
ho cambiato il modo di ragionare
infatti ho smesso di ragionare
sono cerchi infiniti
concentrichi
finche non smariscono nel orrizonte
sempre li'
li' nel mezzo
ooooooooooops
il cervello fuso che non sa piu reagire
ma vaffanculo

joey baby, didn't ever get crazy

Joey was a shining star
still might be too
she lived in a big house somewhere in boganlandia
and went to upway high school
for a fleeting moment she thought i looked like river phoenix
she was wrong
i just had a floppy blondeish fringe
and happened to be shouting in east ringwood
with skinny arms and a wonky union jack t
she decided i should be her deb partner
kind parents even paid for my dancing lessons
not my dancing booties tho
she was the tallest of all the birds
so we had to go first
brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
i sat on a train from heefmont to upweigh
a bit stoned
head leaning against the window
watching the trees and houses whizz by
some fresh faced kid showed up on the night
with a silly pony tail and a rented dinner luxedo
i saw a photo of him once
barely recognised the geezer
we had a trip in a limo
and the after party was at her parents place
she gave me a lovely girls blouse
with the buttons on the wrong side
i gave her something shiny
all rather surreal
she even took me for a ride on the motorbike
that was a first
she went with her friends to Joanna on the coast
said it was great
hanging out with melissa
who brokes flamin's heart and went out with tile
i got in trub for twanging her bra strap
and she had a wicked wicked temper
she offered me her tape of gold afternoon fix
for my burgeoning love
but we never really had that much to say to eachother

Wham Bam thanks a lot Man

so it showed up
i was surprised
she was surprised
he was surprised
well you get the picture....
the faintest of recollections
something about incoherence
flouncing into the light
couldnt be sure
but it makes the most sense
in this senseless debacle
the white knight
the bedtime story
the gaspers and their exile
the whining and dining
what does it say about us then?
not very many good things
thats what it says
the irresistable pull of the senses
stuffing ever more down gullets
the suspension of common sense
all in the name of more
more dammit
it doesnt bear thinking about
itd topple over
like a breast bearer
they sure have their work cut out
there was a lot of shocked faces
the crab pilot cashed in
gave some sound advice and pocketed the goods
surely it couldnt be!
there it was.
some lovely work by the beaver precision parking team
all i had to do was look at .... well you
stories had to be concocted
to tell the fuzz
to tell the scuzz
and to tell all in a salacious best seller
remarkable really

i've got that falling swingers sensation

THIS IS THE REAL PROBLEM WITH THE WOR

WOMEN WHOM DISLIKE ANY KIND OF KINKY SEX
WOMEN THAT DISLIKE MEN
WOMEN THAT DISLIKE WOMEN
WOMEN THAT DISLIKE POPPERS
WOMEN THAT DISLIKE GRANIES
WOMEN THAT LIKE WOMEN
WOMEN THAT LIKE JOHN HOWARD
WOMEN THAT DONT LIKE JOHN HOWARD
JOHN HOWARD
AND WELL THATS ABOUT IT OTHER THAN THESE FEW THINGS, AND PLEASE REMEMBER THIS ITS IMPORTANT.
THE GOOD THINGS IN LIFE ARE DOGS, CATS (FOR BOOTING) AND OTHER ASSORTED DOG LKE ANIMALS.
NAUGHTY CHICKS (NOT THE PEA VARIETY)
AND WELL ANYTHING THAT IS WELL JUST NAUGHTY, MMM WELL NOT COMPLETELY NAUGHTY
BUT JUST A LITTLE NAUGHTY.. OK A SLUT....MMMMMMMM LOLLIES YUMM
YEP A GOOD ROAST, SOME MASH AND SOME SWEET CORN ON THE COB, OHHH YEA THATS THE STUFF

EVENING ALL TAKE CARE AND REMEMBER PEACE AND GOOD WILL TO ALL YOU MUTHA FUCKERS

dave says

in this world of trouble and tribuations i find that the complications the divert our attentions from our true calling pass us by insesently and challange us to try and keep our true selfs from being us, after all if we are not our self then who are we??????? so now time for a poem, yes i hear you ay boooooring but no wait!!!!!!!

computer my love my soul
i punch you, but no, not just in any hole
you turn on for me you turn off
but you no real haselhof
sweet to me you sing you beckon
but still you seeze you fuck
what!!! you need a buck????
well fuck you you machine
your just some from of mechanical slut
i hate you i love you
and if i could youd be the one id fuck!!!!!!!!!
naaaaaa you tramp of electronic stuff


yes so here we are, confused???? well lick my arse and make sexy talk to it, i promise i wont fart...

so maybe for now ill go but if you have a comment


FUCK OFF LOOOSER

Cesare Pavese is really quite a jovial fellow

Verrà la morte e avrà i tuoi occhi

Verrà la morte e avrà i tuoi occhi-
questa morte che ci accompagna
dal mattino alla sera, insonne,
sorda, come un vecchio rimorso
o un vizio assurdo. I tuoi occhi
saranno una vana parola,
un grido taciuto, un silenzio.
Così li vedi ogni mattina
quando su te sola ti pieghi
nello specchio. O cara speranza,
quel giorno sapremo anche noi
che sei la vita e sei il nulla

Per tutti la morte ha uno sguardo.
Verrà la morte e avrà i tuoi occhi.
Sarà come smettere un vizio,
come vedere nello specchio
riemergere un viso morto,
come ascoltare un labbro chiuso.
Scenderemo nel gorgo muti.


Death will stare at me out of your eyes

Death will stare at me out of your eyes;
this death who accompanies us
from morning to night, sleepless,
dull, like an old remorse
or an absurd vice. Your eyes
will be a vain word
an unspoken scream, a silence.
So you see them each morning
when you gaze alone
on the mirror. O dear hope,
that day we'll know too,
that you are the life and the void.
To everyone death has a look
Death will stare at me out of your eyes.
It will be like giving up a vice,
like seeing in the mirror
a dead face re-emerge,
like listening to a silent lip.
We'll go down into the whirlpool without words.

driving, driving, driving, driving, driving, driving, driving

and repeat,
back to your marks... pull up your leg warmers and start again
driving, driving, driving...

the shambles mile

what a bloody shambles
off you go then...
collect the pieces
round up the errant h's
show all the disrespect in the world
not like any bastard would take you to task
theres a particularly untidy section
bottom left
its a disgrace it is
probably cant even feel it
inside or out
now its out in the open
the bottom right isnt looking too crash hot either
nor that squibbly bit bang in the middle
and the upper zone is a bleeding mess
i hope not literally tho
scrape up that bit of wotsit
pile all the rubble up
sidefoot the fogginess
this isnt the place for secrets
unwrap that parcel
but for fucks sake
put stack the contents in an orderly manner
stop bitching about it
nobody can hear
and nobody could care less
you almost need a dozer in here to clear a path
the jetsam is obstructing the flotsam
talk about clutter
funk dat
you must take responsability for your actions
tidy up after yourself
its grim going at the best of times
and then we all have to take a bath in this shite
its just senseless
an enormous waste
and then what?
that old bloke called hector must really have wound somebody up

that's where we ended up...

our love admire
looks like our lifetime ban just expired
vampire dinosaur
let me buy you a drink
i do not believe i have ever bought you...
imagine you are in a game
look, he's picking his nose
he's not nobody
and they called it puppy love
and a series of mysterious murders
the streets of london
some are playing it all down
do they have any legs at all
that can only worse the diplomatic atmosphere
pakistan warns
propaganda is very important in the wider war
he's become the first scalp
rigging fake contestants
fuck off
i wont buy that
or this
and i WONT buy those political propaganda
special envoy
we wont exclude anybody from having their say
and human rights
a b for peacekeeping
after admitting that a series of....
oh stop fucking with bbc
who's crusade is this?
you have every right to be angry
all member have to carry a card
MANDIBA MAN!
we all need to come together
work across national boundaries
screw your robben island
this iniative is just another
for a man almost always on a mission
the vast studio set was near deserted
three weeks before the start of the tour
top spot in group d
austria failed to respond
where oblivion is beckoning...

It's the end of the world as we know it, and Ligabue feels fine

What follows is very interesting, but I cannot be bothered translating it...

Ligabue raccontò che mentre ascoltava la versione originale, suonandoci sopra gli venne l'idea di scrivere un testo italiano che si adattasse a quella musica. Nella trasmissione Storytellers andata in onda su MTV Italia il 6 febbraio 2006 Ligabue ha precisato che l'idea di questa cover e` nata dal discorso iniziale della prima legislatura di Silvio Berlusconi: in questo discorso il Cavaliere sosteneva che i media in suo possesso non avessero per nulla influito sulla vittoria del suo partito. Il fatto che Forza Italia fosse riuscita a passare da zero a partito di maggioranza relativa (in un periodo dove ogni mezzo punto guadagnato da un partito a discapito dello schieramento opposto veniva celebrato come una vittoria) suscitava in Ligabue forti perplessità sul suddetto discorso. Nel testo della canzone il Liga immagina la situazione che si verrebbe a creare se arrivasse la fine del mondo ai giorni nostri, con la gente che piuttosto che scendere per strada a vedere cosa accade preferirebbe godersi lo "spettacolo" dalla poltrona di casa davanti alla televisione.

A che ora è la fine del Mondo? - To the tune of REM track above mentioned.

Che or'è, scusa ma che or'è
Che non lo posso perdere l'ultimo spettacolo
Fine del Mondo in Mondovisione, diretta da San Pietro per l'occasione
La borsa sale, i maroni no, Ferri batte il record di autogol
Le liste del Giudizio Universale saranno trasmesse dai telegiornali
A reti unificate e poi sulla pagina 666
Prima però su Canale 9 ci sarà il terzo Festival del dolore
Con la finale dei casi umani meno meno umani che mai
I puttanieri ci diano dentro, che là di là niente ciccia, niente
Niente ma tu giri più leggero, bruciando le tue scorte di preservativi
Fiorin fiorello, l'amore è bello se ci sei tu
A che ora è la fine del Mondo?
A che ora è la fine del Mondo?
A che ora è la fine del Mondo, che rete è?
Destra, sinistra, su, giù, centro, fine del Mondo con palle in giramento
Che chi è fuori è fuori e chi è dentro è dentro, e fuori TV non sei niente
Ultimo appello per i merdaioli, finitevi la merce che di là non funziona
Altro girone, altro regalo, niente caramelle per i leccaculo
OK, il girone è giusto, OK!
A che ora è la fine del Mondo?
A che ora è la fine del Mondo?
A che ora è la fine del Mondo, che rete è? Che ora è? Che rete è? Che ora è?
A che ora è la fine del Mondo?
A che ora è la fine del Mondo?
A che ora è la fine del Mondo, che rete è?
Forse là di là mancherà qualcosa: casa, chiesa, tele e cosa?
Serial killers, serial politici, morti in diretta, i migliori casi clinici
Cazzi vostri in onda, OK!
A che ora è la fine del Mondo?
A che ora è la fine del Mondo?
A che ora è la fine del Mondo, che rete è?

and i guess

but i just dont know...