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Eurovision 2016

Was won by Ukraine. The song was poor by even Eurovision standards but it won… From a poor lot but I went for Armenia.

There are reasons for that. That was daring attire. OK, the Aussie entry was better but a little demure for me and whilst they had the best song and singer the Armenian lit my candle more.

Ukraine deserved it because whilst there is a women wearing next to nothing there is also the antics of Vlad the Bad. Here is the winner…

Mr Putin. You don’t make yourself generally popular by invading other countries.

The Order of Yoni…

That is Alexandra Brendlova. (yes, “Carry On fans it is somewhat similar to “bendover”). She is a Czech model. A model advertising beer… Well who’d thunk that one up. But this is no ordinary beer… Oh, no.

Imagine woman of your dreams, your object of desire. Her charm, her sensuality, her passion… Try her taste, feel her smell, hear her voice… Imagine her massaging you passionately and whispering into your ear everything you want. Now free your fantasies and imagine that with a magic wand you can close it in one bottle of beer. The golden drink brewed with her lure and grace and flavored with instincts. Imagine the beer which every sip is a randez-vous with this hot woman of your dreams… she hugs you and kiss you gently, looking straight into your eyes… How much would you give for that beer?

Read the whole thing. It’s sort of inverse beer-googles. Thank you Poland and Czechia! It is a reason to vote “in”. Sorry my innuendometer is stuck at FSD. I must try harder.

Can you imagine the meeting with the bank manager to fund this?

“We want 400,000 Zloty and access to a Czech model’s vagina.”

“The dream of us all…”

If there is a point to this (and there isn’t) this frivolity (and it is obviously a novelty product) it is a sheer celebration of the freedoms these nations were for so long denied. There is something glorious in this. It also, in a sense, shows these are not the huddled-masses the Daily Mail thinks are overwhelming our NHS etc. These are modern, vibrant countries. I know because I been to them several times. I doubt the average Daily Mail reader has and quite frankly a bit Neville Chamberlain. “A far away country of which we know little”. Nev, me old China I can get to Prague cheaper than the train to London. Whether I sample vagina ales is another matter.

Here endeth the lesson.

Nearly. An awful lot of immigrants to the UK from Central and Eastern Europe are highly skilled. How exactly is that harmful? How precisely can an Estonian nurse be seen as a drain on the NHS? When the NHS is short of nurses. Until we get out of the rut of thinking every human is a drag and not a benefit we will languish with 0.1% economic growth.

We didn’t object when Poles and Czechs (and many others) flew Spitfires in 1940 did we?

Well some of us (much later) did…


These are long-standing friends and allies The idea they are moochers is ludicrous. Who was it who did a “Ride of the Rohirrim” at Vienna in 1683? Where did the only person to ever win Nobel prizes in physics and chemistry come from and who laid my mum’s patio?

That is an epic fail even by BNP standards. Look closely at the nose.

And I still haven’t seen the big tent.


Is Kim Jong ill? North Korean dictator in poor health as his weight has ballooned thanks to an obsession with cheese.

That is Kim Jong Un who is 31! Hell’s Teeth I like a bit of cheese and being a European there is a lot of it about. Say what you like about Europe (including the UK) we make formidable cheese. We do because we are free(ish). This is the reason the North Koreans can’t make decent cheese despite being a nation of 25 million.

So Comrade Kim is eating himself to death whilst the proles (and isn’t communism meant to be about the proles?) are starving. Apparently Dear Leader Kim got on the Emmental train following his education in Switzerland. Well, that is nice. I can honestly say that my assorted travels have changed my tastes but I can’t say, oddly enough, that, say, learning olives were nice in Spain or that certain fish was very nice in Florida (and there is some good fishing off FL) ever meant bizarre imports for just me whilst everyone else starved. That is obscene.

Defector Cho Myung-Chul, of the Korea Institute for International Economic Policy, said: ‘North Koreans think being fat is good, unlike South Koreans who want to be skinny.’

Well, currently Nick Witchell is on the telly. The telly is a Samsung. It is not by any means the only thing I own from the Korean Republic. Let us be honest. Celebrating fatness is what you do when you are so poor you have to eat grass.

So in the name of communism the people are dying of starvation whilst the boss is doing death by cheesing. It is shocking.

He is understood to be furious that the Pyongyang Dairy has continually failed to produce an Emmental-style cheese of a high enough quality to satisfy his demands.

Well, oddly enough, I walked down the road yesterday and bought some very nice Emmental from the local shop. In a real sense I am (cheese-wise) a richer man than a dictator of 25m souls. I can buy cheese. The Supreme Potentate of North Korea can’t. And God knows what the poor folk can do.

The news comes as North Korea branded the U.S. ‘a graveyard of human rights’, criticising the nation in the wake of the Missouri riots following the shooting of an unarmed black teenager.

Err… I have been to the USA several times and whilst, obviously, it ain’t perfect it is way better than North Korea. Actually it is incomparable. They are taking the piss.

So who agrees…

China, Iran and Russia have previously criticised America following the shooting and the crackdown on protesters following the shooting in the town of Ferguson, a suburb of St Louis.

I think that is enough said.

“This is pretty much the pinnacle of human achievement, right here.”

Says a commenter at Instapundit of this. GoPro camera, hula hoop, Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders. Hell, yes.

(Better not embed it in case it autoplays and somebody’s joyless boss or co-worker complains. Compared to some of the videos out there, it’s bloody Songs of Praise, but it probably isn’t entirely SFW.)

Reposted from Glasgow because the Commonwealth Games are, as Usain Bolt so eloquently put it (oh, don’t go denying it, Usain, we all know it’s true), “a bit shit”.

Some observations of foreign types in crowds

There was some strange behaviour outside my hotel this evening, instead of the usual languid European-style pavement restaurant with a few, mainly elderly residents enjoying their café under an iridescent evening sun as a few blonde haired goddesses drift by aimlessly on bicycles, there was a massed throng of unruly teens and drunken men filling the square in front of my hotel.

I presumed that it was some form of political protest as they were uniformly dressed alike, but apparently not, it was in fact an opportunity to get utterly paralytic on Heineken served in plastic cups while watching a giant TV screen erected at the end of the not-so-very-grand place. I initially presumed they were there to watch the local version of “America’s Next One Hit Wonder” or whatever it is called in The Land of Clogs.



MarielineI’d like you to meet Marieline, an old friend and an ex girlfriend from some years ago.

I haven’t seen her for years, kinda because we live on different sides of the continent. She lives in Perth, and I live on Queenslands sunny Gold Coast.

This doesn’t allow for the occasional Saturday morning meet up for a cup of coffee, but we cross paths on the Internet on occasion and say hello.

Anyway, Marieline is suffering from motor neurone disease, sorta like wot that physicist chappie has, the one who invented quantum black holes, evaporating black holes and pootles about about writing books on the nature of time when he is not redefining our understanding of existence. That one, you know.

Anyway, Marieline is what Susan Sto Helit’s old school headmistress would have called a plucky gel, and she is taking part in a charity walk in order to raise a bit of cash to contribute to motor neurone research.

Go on, bung a couple a bob into the pot. You know you want to, don’t you?

Kenyan fiddling with a kid.

Sex attacker is confronted by his victim in Kenyan court… a female GOAT (and he is jailed a record ten years for ‘defiling’ it)

defiling the goat? He’s not precisely covered himself in glory has he either? I mean it might have been a very attractive goat – to other goats but… it’s a goat.

A man who was jailed for 10 years for having sex with a female goat came face-to-face with his victim in a Kenyan court.

The goat watched quietly from the corner of the court room in Malindi while Katana Kitsao Gona, 28, was jailed for bestiality.

I’m really not sure about this story. It is quite possibly the first time he came (oh, er missus!) face to face with said beast. My vague understanding (and I could be very wrong) is the only critters who have sex face-to-face are humans and bonobos. Personally I don’t think he ought to have got chokey. Surely the stare of the goat* and his naming and shaming is enough? I mean that happened a few years back to a bloke from Hull who was caught molesting a goat by a railway line. He was fined (the goat was deemed OK by police vets) rather than ten years in the tank but his career was ruined. He was a chef. Well, who is going to employ a chef who sodomizes goats? And it is sodomy by pretty much any rational definition. Call me odd and all but sex with another human regardless of gender is like whatever. Shagging a goat is basically not OK. Do I have to explain why? And why the Mail has to state prominently that it was a female goat is beyond me. I suppose you just shouldn’t shag the nanny.

Anyway, on with this tale of utter depravity…

According to Jimmy Kimaru, chief prosecutor, Gona was caught sexually assaulting the goat in a bush.

It really doesn’t get better than that. Some of us dream of Brad Pitt or Keira Knightley on a Caribbean beach and some of us fuck goats in the backwoods of Kenya. Admittedly a female goat but quite frankly that doesn’t make a quantum of WTF to me. And why did this vile crime happen?

Gona, who pleaded guilty, told the court his wife is disabled and depends on him daily. Despite this, the judge jailed him for a record 10 years for ‘defiling’ the animal.

Well, as I said before some crimes are in a sense their own punishment. This is a very libertarian stance. Would you employ the goat-fucker of Malindi? No and neither would I. If you were his wife would you not seek a divorce? Obviously you would! There is not a court on the planet that would deny you. I mean an affair with another human might be forgiven but screwing a goat in a bush is simply unforgivable.

And now we get onto arguably the meat of the deal. I think the Dr Who character of Captain Jack is interesting. He is frequently described as “bisexual” but he is is actually “omnisexual” and I think calls himself that. So why does that matter here? He fancies males and females of every bipedal, thinking, speaking race in the Universe. OK, I’m fine with that but a goat is different. What is clever about Captain Jack is a couple of things. The first is there is very little hint in Dr Who of interspecies pregnancies (I’m gonna get called on that) and in that respect it is much more on the biological money than Star Trek (score one for the Brits!) but it acknowledges that sex is not just about procreation. And it acknowledges another thing. If one accepts that (and some don’t) then you have to face a tricky question and Captain Jack answers it very well. He is prepared to fancy different species so therefore he can’t see gender as that important. I think that is interesting. Obviously Captain Jack would never fuck a goat but he kissed both The Doctor and Rose. I guess what I’m getting at is that interspecies sex is acceptable in a fantasy setting (think Beren and Luthien) iff (not an sp) the species are roughly comparable and able to give informed consent and stuff. In short an Elven princess is one thing and a goat is quite, quite different.

Seeing as there is a species difference either way I’m not entirely sure if I can make a solid point here and I have to just really on the “yuk” factor to a certain extent here but… let’s face it making love to Arwen in the Royal Bedchamber of Minas Tirith beats the Hellskis out of goat-fucking in a bush in Kenya.

Pretty much anything beats that. The last time I had a filling beats that.

Quotes from The Mail.

*Goats have nasty stares. I recall an incident on a Greek island in the ’90s when I was surrounded by goats and the leader of the pack – a big billy with horns poised at my scrotum gave me a vile stare. I thought it about to charge and de-bollock me but then the goatherd turned-up. I have rarely if ever been more pleased with a Greek fellow entering stage left. I had also accidentally nearly troden on a snake about ten minutes before which was seriously nonplussed. Beautiful island but full of things that wanted to kill me.

Politically correct Thursday

Her name is Dai Macedo, and hers has been proclaimed the best bum in Brazil

I imagine the competition was pretty hot.

H/T News Ltd

Islamic Science.

Yes we all know how supreme Islamic science is don’t we? How far in advance of anything we have ever considered here in the poor benighted West. It can only be supreme prejudice that has stopped them garnering more Nobel Prizes than South London Polytechnic, surely?

This report is almost unfiskable, but for a taste…

In the report Professor Subhi described sitting in a coffee shop in an unnamed Arab state.

‘All the women were looking at me,’ he wrote. ‘One made a gesture that made it clear she was available… this is what happens when women are allowed to drive.’

Why I despise the Daily Mail.

Hypocrisy is the short answer.

The longer answer is their cutsey-named “Femail” sidebar on their website. It by and large consists of stuff like this. Note the second image where Ms Moss’s nipple is clearly visible. And this from the valiant crusader (that’s all over the front page of the print edition) against online pornography. This is the online version. See also this

I don’t know how they got these pictures – they look rather too HQ to be paparazzi but I dunno. I mean it could be a publicity stunt for Moss (who I note from the TV doesn’t seem to be advertising any perfume this Christmas) or it could be the long-lense lads. But… I dunno. The Mail are hypocritical scum either way. Personally I think pornography (however hard or soft) which is done with willing (and paid) participants is morally vastly superior to paparazzi stuff. But that is by the by. Both articles are available in seconds from the Mail website. How can they square that circle? Or do they want the Mail reclassified as an opt-in soft-porn rag? Because this is very far from the first time “Femail” has published “compromising” pictures of ‘slebs.

Or… pictures of say, Rihanna’s (very nice) bottom in her skimpies in the “Femail” column whilst editorialising elsewhere on the corrosive effects on teenage girl’s self-esteem of pictures of “perfect” female bodies or claiming this is resulting in ever younger boys sexually assaulting girls. And all this whilst claiming implicitly (explicitly) to be the moral keel of the nation.

In a sense it would be fitting and sweet if they were cast into the outer darkness of “Asian Babes” or “Monster Jugs” – hoist indeed upon their own petard. But I object to this censorship anyway and in deep principle. Somebody has to decide what is unsuitable for kids and I think that ought to be us adults. This is not a matter for government. It really shouldn’t be. It also implies mission-creep for there is already talk of websites involving deliberate self-harm. And what after that? It’s just government control of the internet.

Our playground. Not there’s. They only hate it because they don’t understand it. And they are small people, pathetic people. People who do not believe that individuals can ever do the right thing without coercion, if not outright violence.

Complete and utter Bollocks Study of the Week Pt 69.

But bloody nice try guys!

This is the study that all us fellas would absolutely love to be true, but it’s the usual crapola based on statistical insignificance and wishful thinking.

But come on ladies, it might be true, think of all the expensive shit you shovel on your faces in the hope of beating wrinkles, the mad diets you put yourselves through to lose weight, the self help books you devour by the ton… You want to be less depressed, become more affectionate, sleep better (it certainly makes me sleep better, and with a smile on my face!) It’s more than a mouthful, it’s a meal!! Swallow don’t spit!

Pippa and Karl (and Kylie – obviously)

Who would you rather wake up next to?

He is a serious rug-artiste for starters. He reckons only her arse is worthwhile. Well, as a fan of the female buttocketry she’s well OK on that score but no honest man (or even a fashion designer) could call Pippa Middleton ugly from the front. Kate is better looking (and in any case the one true arse to rule them all of the entire Commonwealth has the Southern Cross imprinted upon it). It is of course possible there are arses beyond Her Maj’s dominions etc. that can beat Ms Minogue’s pertness but as a proud Brit I don’t even want to know. Kylie is a National Treasure (and yes, she has spent much of quite a few years the right way up).

That is a veritable peach. I know strong men (and some strong women) who would kill for that and climb over the hecatomb. That is an arse to launch a thousand ships and make the towers of Ilium fall. If bin Laden had really wanted to rile the West he wouldn’t have taken down office buildings but he would have hit Kylie and if that had happened we would have risen up with furious anger (not the normal sort) and all Hell would’ve followed in our train.

And she’s gorgeous from the front (I have seen her sister very close-up – apples don’t fall far from the tree) too. And I guess this is a bit sad of me but Kylie is just a bit older than me so I sort of have an affinity there (she’s kinda been round me all my life). I found myself curiously moved by her cancer diagnosis. I don’t normally worry about celebs but for Kylie I made an exception.

Beach Volleyball

I used to play volleyball at school and was noted for having a JDAM of a serve.

I liked it because it was mixed PE and that meant there were girls. Obviously this was preferable to always being second-row in the Rugby scrum. I watched some of the beach volleyball last night – GB v the Canadians.

From the commentary…

“The British pair”

“Can she take it all the way?”

“That was an idle toss”

And during technical breaks they are playing the “Benny Hill” theme tune.

Beach volleyball is a travesty. This is a sport that doesn’t need to exist at Olympic level. They have volleyball nets on beaches across the globe anyway (obviously not Shoddy Absurdia or Whitley Bay) so if you want to watch “girls in their summer clothes” you can for free and without the UK tax-payer* footing the bill. Because from what I saw this is a “jumpers for goal-posts” sport. It just doesn’t shift at the rate of court volleyball because it is played on sand. It’s only porpoise is to satisfy the dirty old men of the IOC (the players hugged and patted each other’s bottoms after each point). It was like lesbian porn as imagined by The Pope. Now if you really want genuinely lesbian porn it is freely (or for a small fee) available via the internet from various commercial operations and not the tax-payer.

And more to the point this state-funded hot lezza action was extremely tame and featured girls with almost no tits whatsoever (and the blonde Brit was a right hound). Stomachs you could crack walnuts on but no jiggle on the jump which it would appear to be like what they were aiming for.

So basically they duplicated an Olympic event in a facile attempt to create sex-appeal and created at vast pubic [not an sp] expense out of something that isn’t especially sporting and isn’t especially sexy.

Right. I’m now off to embuggerate Beth Tweddle in five unusual positions. Because if we are to be forced to pay for very soft-core Frankie Vaughn (my local newsagent sells much harder-core stuff – with like tits and muff – and he and his wife are Muslims – Oh and they also contribute to rather than take from the economy) then I want my money’s worth! I guess what I’m saying is the IOC et. al’s attempt at “sexing it up” is expensive, pointless and dismal.

*Not strictly true as such. This was not paid for from tax already raised but on tick. Forever and ever Amen! There will be a legacy alright. It’ll be like inheriting your great uncle’s gambling debts.

Update: Great minds seem to think alike.

Speak to me Goose!

I hate that movie. I hate it. The premise of the entire smorgasbord of drivel is that Top Gun exists to get US fighter pilots from a 3-1 (Vietnam) back to a 10-1 (Korea)* kill ratio and it ends in triumph with what 3-1, 4-1 D’oh!. But Jeebus wept! Sailor Malan would have pistol whipped the sex-thimble for that mortifying scene where he’s clutching his late RIO’s tags and his new RIO is screaming at him to fucking do something. If I’d been in a “MiG 28″ he’d have been feeding the fishes before it achieved it’s emotional climax. I mean there has to be a lot of stick action in a dog-fight – just not as a faux-emotional wanking festival. There is also a time and a place for an existential crisis and it’s on a sofa in Cheshire when the ciggies have run out at 3am and there is nothing on TV except Bid-Up selling dreadful jewellery. Or the God Channel. I sometime watch that and TBN (Trinity Broadcasting Network) which is utter Horlicks with some curious ideas about evolution. And God (or L Ron) is going to buy you a satellite.

(I have to sort of side with Bonio of U2 here. Gods of all pantheons help me for saying that! But Bonio did once say “The God I believe in isn’t short of cash”. Seeing as Bonio clearly believes himself some sort of second-coming** and Bonio is clearly not short of cash the statement is true for a certain value of true. The Holy sacraments are kept under The Edge’s hat. Well something is kept under it other than The Edge’s bald paternoster – possibly a Ginster’s or a small Toblerone)

Not in a dog-fight. That is almost exactly the last time to do it. “Speak to me Goose!”. Oh, fuck off you diminutive bell-ender!

So Katie Holmes has decided to divorce the Cruise-control-freak! You surprise me not. That it took six frigging years does. He’s a repugnant, sofa-bouncing, sleazy, manic Scientologist, blank-firing, dwarf who is also very clearly gay (sue me Tom!) and she’s, well, OK really. Though Dear Gods Katie! It wasn’t that you were just in it for the money and as seven years approached you were going to be transferred to John Travolta which is a fate worse than death? Imagine being humped by that hairy-backed trotter? I’d rather wrestle with Jabba the Hutt. Well, not perhaps the full Hutt. Maybe more Jabba the Wendy House.

Apparently Katie Holmes is a devout catholic and she don’t like scientology presumably because it is not so much “Pilgrim’s Progress” as “Gullible’s Travels”.

Now, I don’t have a religion but I have a certain level of respect for, say, Catholicism but… Scientology? For fuck’s sake what was Ms Holmes thinking of? Or Ms Kidman come to that who is also a Catholic and that also lead to divorce. I mean the religious (and “religious”) difference is that one I just don’t believe in and the other is utterly risible. Anyway, I’d put Nicole Kidman third on my “Down Under” shagging tour. Obviously behind the Minogue sisters à deux (obviously) and Galadriel (I’d certainly use her Ring of Power to dark ends). And if you haven’t dreamed of buggering Cate Blanchett then there is something seriously wrong with you.

By which I mean (sorry to unleash my id and all – and that’s just the shallow end) but – I think I lost my thread. Where was I? Oh, yeah, that lesser tit Cruise who is the opposite of sex. An aeronautical aside here. Leroy Grumman with his penchant for “cat” names had wanted a “Tomcat” since the ’30s but the Navy deemed it “obscene”.*** Got it in the ’70s though. Ladies burnt their bras and we had a sexual revolution for a reason! It was underpowered (until the D model that Grumman had been hollering at the Navy for years over) mind and too big and never a real dog-fighter. I’ve never seen an F-14 in the skies and alas I guess I never will****. But Hell’s teeth those Hughes Phoenix missiles were something else (cost half a million dollars back when that was real money) – nail a spuggy at 100nm. Like to see a F-18 do the same. Maybe with the AESA set and MBDA Meteors. Never with AMRAAMS.

But that is another issue.

*both debatable either way but this is neither the time nor the place…
**My favourite Bonio (like Bob Geldof with more hair ‘product’ utilised) quote is not from him. U2 were playing a gig in Dublin and Bonio was clicking his fingers and syaing “Every time I do this a child in Africa dies”. Some wag at the back hollered, “Well stop fuckin’ doing it then!”. Class.
***The aircraft the Tomcat largely replaced as the USN’s primary fleet defence interceptor was of course the F-4 Phantom II. Now Leroy Grumman was into cats but Jim McDonnell was into the occult. His original name choice was “Satan”. Seriously. The USN might have had Satans on the catapults of the sixth fleet. His second choice was “Mithras”. I would have loved to been a fly on the wall at that meeting.
****Unlike Tom Cruise the F-14 had charisma. When the USN decided to scrap it almost all were trashed even though loads of folks wanted them as gate guardians and the like. The USA was worried parts would go missing in an Iranian direction. Grumman sold The Shah about 80 in the ’70s. They are (to the extent they are still operating) still Iran’s premier interceptor.

Not even trying…

I got an email today from…

Tori and Pamela and Kathy want to tell you about themselves today, they are single women that belong to a new and sexy adult dating community.

They want to meet guys today that enjoy going out on sexy dates where they can end the night with a good night kiss or a sexual encounter.

These women are not sluts, they are just adults that like to have adult fun.

No, they aren’t sluts because they almost certainly don’t actually exist. They do though want to meet me tonight and despite not being sluts (or even existing – a pre-req for either being a slut or a vestal virgin or even just being you know human – can we please for the love of all non-Catholic Gods please for the love of fuck finally hurl the Madonna/Whore thing away for good?)

Anyway, Tori (is that a name? I mean call me British and all but when I think of Tory women I think of Edwina Curry) likes “69s and reverse cowgirl”. Now call me old-fashioned and that but that is the first thing she says (Kathy likes anal and giving oral in case you are at a loose end this weekend). What I’m trying to say here is that they have given-up trying on the spamulation. OK, I have had sexual relations which involved 69s (even 96s) and all happenstances of cowgirls – come one, come all! But that happened after drinking, dancing, a witty anecdote. I guess what I am saying is if the woman in question blurted out her favoured sexual antics as the first thing to know about her* you’d first insure the rabbit was secure at least.

*In any case isn’t the person more important than the position anyway? I don’t care if it is reverse cowgirl or not if the choice is between Uma Thurman and Cherie Blair. And more to the point aren’t sexual positions of choice something that develops during a relationship? Call me old fashioned and whatever but…

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