:: Central Heating ::

With the snow encroaching on London in recent days, I have resorted to wearing my bumblebee scarf, with the result that I resemble a cross between one of the Bash Street Kids and Tom Baker. It was thus attired that I trotted off to treat Lava Lamp to a spot of Russian lunch: hearty borsch and a lovely shashlyk (plus a cheeky vodka to ward off the chill)...

And once again, this week has offered scant opportunity for serious webbage, so the pickings are a little thin...

I was pleased to note two stories of a mammary nature in recent days. First up, the Italian doctor who has discovered that norks talk. When I forwarded this to my brother, he responded "Of course it would be an Italian doctor", but to be frank, his xenophobic tendencies would make a Daily Mail reader blush. Nonetheless, who could complain about a piece of harmless Thai breast massage? Quite a lot of people it seems... While we're on the subject of contortion, this piece of proto-Slavic promotional guff is a prime example of how not to "massage" the English language. The scientific revelations it contains may also be questionable, as I'm sure Dr Rufus will only be too pleased to point out.

Most inappropriate headline of the week has to go to the Beeb for Aberdeen teacher in pupil probe, especially given the sensitive subject matter of the article. I realise in the past I may justly have been accused of excessive pendantry and prurience, but surely others can see that the use of "probe" in this context is highly inappropriate.

And, erm, "cool stuff" - that thing the interweb does rather well? Excuse me if this is all rather vieux chapeau, but I liked the following this week:
PostSecret - a repository for anonymous admissions of siful deeds; Road Kill Candy - got to get some of that before they take it off the shelves; another reworked tube map - this one's peppered with smut and obscenity; Post-it pixellation as super-geeks recreate 8-bit Super Mario characters; and HST's fitting end - to be broadcast into the air...

To revive an old feature, here are some of the various search terms which have found this site - the usual mixture of predictability, bizarreness and unfathomable nonsense:

  • "timewaster letters" "weblog"
  • brezhnev honecker kiss
  • desperate housewives and "opening titles"
  • "milanese biscuits"
  • blogspot "cum in your mouth"
  • lyrics to vecherinka
  • pizda domain:devukha.blogspot.com
  • webmong
  • "timewaster letters" weblog
  • "franzie boys"
  • john betjeman "how to get on in society"
  • explanations of Feste's songs in Twelfth Night

And finally... a big shout out to David-Ell, who found this site through my links to Melmoth.

:: Poop Poop! ::

With the inevitable time-drain caused by Toad (only doing the lighting, mind), a lapse in updates was only to be expected. Fear not - some of my precious time has indeed been allocated to trawling the web for crap. That's not to say I haven't been helped a little by cyber-accolytes and trusted sources:

  • Wilverine came up trumps with this previously unenvisaged splicing of Strindberg & Helium. I find the combination of a po-faced Swedish dramatist and a noble gas irresistible. Top marks.

  • Unfailing source of mildly xenophobic new items, Ananova once again picked up on some Slavic antics. This time, the story concerns late night nude antics, but it's this quotation that gets me: "Local media speculated the men could be walking naked either after losing a drunken bet or for health reasons"

  • Some targets are almost to easy to pillory... but the Bushku generator adds enough of a surreal element to lift it above the humdrum Bush-chimp comparisons. One of the results I recently generated:

guns moan... deep
pure George thinks... nerd dreams
strangely green

  • While we're on the subject of Dubya, I must admit to having been rather slow off the mark with one recent story. It wasn't till I read Sidney Blumenthal's piece in the Grauniad that I'd even heard of Jeff Gannon. Fortunately, The Daily Kos was able to fill me in on Gannon's dodgy journalistic record, but when this White House stooge was revealed to be a two-bit rentboy, advertising his services online my lust for schadenfreude was satisfied. Needless to say, the New York Times' Op-Ed writers are having a field day.

  • hellovetica supplied me with another online gem - Save Toby appears to be an excellent means of extorting money from gullible gushy-eyed animal lovers worldwide. I had a good mind to send creator a few recipes in congratulation...

  • I had a funny feeling the April Fool's Day mob had got in 5 weeks early when I saw this graphic in the Times. Given recent security scares, effective data disposal may be a very useful and informative topic, but bashing your hard disk with a hammer? How long before someone opens up a PC crematorium?

Follow-Up: Last week's "IKEA crush" has been extensively analysed in this article - and my feelings on the Swedish furniture retailer chime with those of blinkit. I wonder if the brazen thuggery exhibited in Edmonton clashes with the toungue-in-cheek style of IKEA's last ad campaign? And where would we be without another mention of the heir to the throne and his equine bride-to-be? An old idea, well realised, methinks.

Um... that's it, for another week, I suppose. I'm off to sit in a small dark room and press buttons all evening.

:: Wizened Crones ::

Let me clarify one thing - I don't give a flying monkey's about a couple of wrinkly divorcees getting hitched... but I was amused by the way the local paper reported Chuck's impending marriage to Camilla Park 'n' Ride (it's not necessary to read more than the headline).

:: All Hands To The Pump! ::

I spotted a bottle of this on a colleague's desk and had to share:

And while we're on the subject of smut, that also happens to be the title of a song by Tom Lehrer that I shall be performing on Saturday, along with a couple of his other hits. I shall not attempt a rendition of the infamous Elements song, seen here in animated form (yes, I know it's a repost).

This week's events have provoked a number of questions:

- Why do people queue for hours to buy flat-packed furniture?

- How do animals talk in different languages?

- How can a white girl from rural Devon constitute an "urban" music act?

- Where might little green ladies help you cross the road?

Inquisitive minds look no further, the web will cater to your every whim! (But you knew that already)

:: Stuck Here Like A Couple Of Bollards... ::

Not much to post about at the mo, as I'm heavily involved in final preparations for the following:

So, if you fancy seeing me made up to look like Uncle Fester, then come along...

Well, at least I'm doing better than Dr Rufus, who hasn't managed a web-utterance since my birthday.