World of Crussell

It was five past twelve and the chaps of the Conservative fifth were toying with the idea of a little light footer after lunch.

"Crickey chaps," sputtered Osbourne, "let's get the bally old pigskin out and make like Acrington Stanley!"

"Good idea Osser old chap," chipped in Cameron Snr, "We can make like the footer league cup until French rolls around - hoorah!"

And so it was was the boys piled out of the Commons back door and headed off to the quad for a compressed 90 minutes of end-to-end fun. Jostling each other in a good-natured fashion as they went, the chums were pretty carefree, knowing it was only a couple of months until the hols - it always was at the House of Commons School for Good Old Boys(tm).

But in an instant, their revelry drained quickly away as a stern voice echoed across the expanse of the quad.

"Och ai the noo etc," it boomed, "give me your lunch money you Tory buffoons or it's the blue fishes for you!"

"Cavey boys!" ejaculated Cameron Snr, "it's only Brown Minor, the biggest bully in the school. He's already polished off the chaps in his own department and now he's ready to start on us!"

Brown appeared, as if by magic, next to the footballing throng, grasping one of their number firmly by the ear.

"Yaroo!!", yelled the unfortunate boy, "leggo Brown you utter rotter, that hurts". The injured party, William Bunter (the Hon Member for Greyfriars), wriggled as if to escape the attentions of the evil Brown, failing miserably.

"Och ai!", quoth the Scots bully, "not only do I have a propensity for uttering Scots cliches, but I'm rogered if I'm going to let you lot take my Head Boy status away. I had to fight jolly hard with Blair the Younger for this and I'll box your ears with my ma's homemade shortbread before I give it up".

Cameron Snr faced up to the Sawney Slacker and fixed him with his modestly steely gaze: "Look here Brown, we've just about jolly well had enough of your batey shenanigans. You kept mum about the bally awfulness in Iraq, fittered away the country's tuckshop earnings and allowed commoners into our school. Well we've just about had enough - put your dukes up kilt-boy!!"

Brown returned Cameron Snr's spirited glance and immediately reached for a nearby Mandelson with which to beat the leader of the Conservative Fifth...

So, not content with using his dead daughter to gain political leverage and show the nation what a "nice" man he is, now he's bullying his own side - what a great example of leadership by example, all hail the most hated Prime Minister in recorded history..

I've been watching a lot of TV news recently and I've discovered that government and local councils have presented us with the ultimate "Get Out of Jail Free" card. In days of yore it was sufficient when getting caught for doing a bit iffy to tell the police and/or courts "I did it because I'm a drug addict".

Sadly, this excuse has now been wrecked by the likes of Docherty and Winehouse so it's become necessary to find a replacement. And the replacement is so simple it's genius.

Are you ready...?

Ok, say you've caught with a ton of crack in the boot of your pimped out Austin Allegro and your bitches are getting fractious, just tell the five-oh; "Well, I regard this arrest as a wake-up call" - UTTER GENIUS!!!

Using the phrase "It's a wake-up call" apparently means you can get away with a broad spectrum of ass-hattery ranging from letting  abused kids die without taking action right up to failing to properly equip troops you're busy sending to their deaths. And the best part is, not only is it an excuse, it's also negates any need to apologise - EVER!!

The scandal over MPs expenses was described as a wake-up call for political reform and, as expected, nothing happened as a result. Haringey Council promised their wake-up call in the wake of baby P's death would change things - no action there then and as for the scandal over troops body armour...

It seems to me that "wake-up call" is a euphemism for "doing fuck all".

So ne'er do wells of Britain, take note. If you get ins a spot with Customs, the Police or even Immigration, when you get to the point where you have to answer for your actions just tell anyone who'll listen there's a wake-up call in your immediate future. Promising some form of internal investigation or audit just adds to the believability of the situation, giving you time to make good your penalty-less escape.

Winner...     

Me! I'm the daddy!!! as of 9am on February 2, 2010 I became a dad to two gorgeous little girls *beam*.

Normal service will be resumed fairly soon, as a new dad I clearly have many issues to get off my chest so watch this space...

Call it pressure of work, call it pressure of impending fatherhood, call it laziness if you will but it's been nearly three months since my last rant post.

That's all I wanted to say really, except that I hope it'll be less then three months to my NEXT post!

Why is it, that whenever I mention the fact I'm going to be a dad and that we're having two girls people laugh then say "You are SO screwed..."

It's not funny, it's not helpful and it really pisses me off. Maybe your kids are little bastards who spend their time knifing pensioners and drinking Diamond White, if so, I'm really not interested.

Also, I don't care what your suggestions for names are, really, I don't. So kindly wrap up Chinawhite and Frogmella in their gaudy little Fubu tracksuits and CLEAR OFF.

They're my girls, I'm proud of them already and I can't wait for February, if you can't handle it or feel the need to be sarcastic, miserable or otherwise stay the fuck away from my family.

The annual exam results are all in now and .. EVERYONE GOT AN A!!!!! Hoorah! Lashings of jam and ginger beer all around, we're all going to public school!

But before you get all excited and start throwing your straw boater in the air and exposing your buttocks to the chaps from the Upper Fifth(it is public school after all), let's take a second to reflect on the academic effort involved in passing modern school exams. Why not take this secretly leaked test and see if you're capable of getting 50 A*s without even revising !!!



Question 1 - Are you
a) Human
b) Descended from reptiles
c) Innit

(Score 5 if you answered 'a', 3 for 'b' and '1' for c (we're assuming you had the mental comprehension to circle the correct answer)

Question 2 - If John has three bitches and makes two of them pregnant (the second one with twins), how much money will he claim off the dole?
(Award points if you points for mentioning income support, multiple mothers, birth control (lack of) and the word innit)

Question 3 - The square on the side of the hypotenuse :
a) Is equal to the sum of the square of the other two sides
b) Is where we 'ang owt an chill
c) Needs a cap in it's ass, innit
(Whatever the answer, award five points)

Question 4 - If I take a quarter and then I take another eighth, just how stoned will I be? (thank you Frankie Boyle!)
(No points for this one but it's worth noting early in your criminal record).

Question 5 - Innit?
(Award a point for turning up)

All done now? good! so, what are the scores on the doors:

More than 5 - subract 5 marks for being a smartarse
Less than 5 - add 95 marks
Less than Zero, award 95 marks for trying

Now turn the number of marks into a percentage and OMFG!!!!!!!eleventy!!!!WIN!!!!! You have sufficient qualifications to enter Cambridge and become a professor of Ancient History and shit - respect!

Sadly, you will still be educationally overqualified for the post of Prime Minister though if you can lie, cheat and release terrorists on your day off, then you might still be in with a chance...

Dear People of America,

You may have read in the news this week that the cowards, cheats and liars in charge of "Great" Britain have allowed a convicted terrorist to go free on compassionate grounds.

It seems the poor dear is dying of cancer and needs to be at home with his family. Apparently he also deserved a hero's welcome when he returned to the cradle of terrorism, or Libya as it's called in diplomatic circles.

However, let's be REALLY clear about something here.

The Scottish Justice Secretary does not speak on behalf of a lot of the people of England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland, in fact, there are a lot of people who would have seen that terrorist bastard die in prison.

Sadly, it seems the British Isles is under attack from within. Our so called leaders continually sell us out, capitulating to the terrorist scum. We're told at one moment that we don't give in to those who try and change things by force, in the next we find out our politicians are in talks to release those who plot to kill us.

And the crowning glory of our weak, spineless leadership comes when the so-called Prime Minister refuses to comment on the release of the Lockerbie bomber because he's on holiday. Odd then that he can find time to write a letter to the captain of our cricket team to congratulate them on winning the Ashes but not to comment on a matter of national importance.

So, people of America, I'll apologise on behalf of the people of our country for what you see as a miscarriage of justice - I agree with you 100%.

Brown is a sad, gutless, pointless excuse for a leader who seems to have ceded power to the even more revolting Mandelson, and the former "Great" Britain is now a mere shadow of it's former self - truly, we are a nation lost.

Until we have a significant change of leadership there's little point in dealing with us as a country, we're useless, witless and the laughing stock of the world - I suggest coming back in a year or so when hopefully the people of Britain have seen sense and chucked this bloody idiot and his pointless cohorts out of power.

However, on the possibility that voters are as retarded as the leaders, any chance of a visa so I can bring the family to live in a proper country?

Today, millions of people worldwide will fall silent in a tribute to pop star Michael Jackson. Many a tear will fall. Fans everywhere intend to honour the memory of a "great" man...

And they'll all remember the music and not what's been cunningly termed his "colourful private life"

So let's not mention the child abuse allegations, the drug addiction or the massive debt, because, at the end of the day, it's better to remember the song and dance man then the slobbering, penniless paedo who was so hopped up on painkillers he could barely remember who he was.

Makes you wonder what'll happen when Gary Glitter dies. Maybe you'll remember the talented artist rather then the child abuser - I don't think so ...

Ah, I hear you cry, but Glitter was found guilty in court of child abuse, Jackson was never convicted. True, but Glitter didn't have $20 million to buy his way out of trouble. Even Jacko's sister accused him of touching up little boys but later retracted her words when she realised he was going to get away with it.

So, at 6pm tonight, why not all gather together and weep for a dead paedo, why not buy a few of his records too, just to make you feel better about the whole thing - after all he was a "hero", wasn't he?

It's that time of year again folks, time for the tennis-averse members of the community to pack up their tents and head down to Somerset for the Glastonbury Festival. However, with tickets at £175 apiece, the festival experience can be an expensive one.

This set me thinking ...

You see, the BBC provide radio and TV coverage of the event, so why waste time traipsing to Pilton when you can get a realistic Glastonbury experience IN YOUR OWN HOME!!!!!!! Just follow these simple steps to festival heaven.

1. Put the bathplug in the tub and set the taps running - in a matter of minutes water will be pouring over the sides and down through the floorboards into the living room - hey presto! Glasto rain! (chuck a tarp or plastic bag over the TV for good measure)

2. Empty the soil out of all the pot plants in your living room onto the carpet, combined with the water from Step #1 this will create your very own Pilton quagmire - getting that feeling of "being there" yet?

3. Superglue the toilet door closed with your incontinent, partially-sighted aunt on the inside  - pretty soon, the combination of a tiny bladder and inability to see properly will result in urine surging under the bog door. For extra authenticity, employ your kids/nephews to hammer on the door of the loo shouting "get a fucking move on, I'm busting!"

4. Ask your partner to prepare some partially cooked beefburgers and kebabs (particularly effective if Auntie Lil is still in the 'cloakroom'). Don't expect instant results but after a couple of hours you'll be vomiting like a professional.

5. Turn up the TV and stereo so loud the sound dissolves into static causing haemorrhaging from your ears and possibly eyes.

6. Ask the bloke from next door to pop round every half an hour and charge you £50 for a bag of sherbet and/or basil leaves...

7. Buy a tent, then steal it from yourself and insist on sleeping in the mud and piss on the living room floor each night.

And there you have it! After three days, emerge from your house covered in sick, puke, Aunt Lil's pee and gobbets of mud. Feel free to tell everyone what a "banging time" you had, how it was "the shit" and how you can't wait to stay at home and do it all again next year.

No need to thank me festival goers, I suggest it because I care ...

Today was egg transfer day for us, for the non IVF-aware it's where the doctors implant fertilised embryos back into Elly in the hope they'll 'stick' and go on to become babies.

Usually it's quite a hopeful day, we get to say hello to what may become our future kids and we get a positive gee-up from the medical team just in time for the dreaded two-week wait - in two weeks time we'll know if the treatment has worked or not.

In the past, we've always asked for photos of the embryos - it might seem like a small thing but to us it's really important, after weeks of drugs, pain and misery for Elly, travel and a considerable amount of expense. Given the odds of the treatment working it might well be our only contact with the embryos.

Today, we also asked for photos, but the embryologist at the Shady Grove Fertility Centre was too busy and forgot - thanks very much for that. Is it really too much to ask for one damned photo?

I realise the medical staff are busy, I realise they deal with a lot of patients but, to be selfish for once, I don't care. This is *our* baby and when we put so much time, effort, money and emotion into this procedure I *expect* certain things to happen - even when they seem inconsequential to others - we're not having the oil changed in the car for Christ's sake, this is important to me and Elly.

I'm furious.