DOTSOKU!

I hate Sudoku. Everywhere I look I see smarmy intellectual types with foreheads crinkled in thought, chewing on pens as they do Sudoku on the tube, on the bus or at the supermarket. Notice the use of do as to the other verb play which would imply some sort of enjoyment. It’s reached pandemic proportions as it infects thousands of people all over Britain every day.

Why can’t we see it’s a nefarious practical joke by the Japanese? Hey let’s give primary school arithmetic a catchy Japanese name and sell it to the West. Then when they are all too busy doing their Sudoku we will make affordable good quality electronics (evil man laughs maniacally).

Anyway what ever happened to good old connect the dots. I miss those simpler days where all you would have is your pencil and just in case you made a mistake an eraser but the beauty of the game was that even though you sort of knew what the picture was you were never really that sure until you had connected the last dot. Oh look it’s a can of beans!

Connect the dots has been around for donkey’s years for good reason. The ancient Greeks used connect the dot theory to come up with the constellations. (In Ancient Greek) Oh look Archimedes, it’s a Capricorn!

It’s time to get them back for Sudoku. It’s time to revamp connect the dots with a catchy Japanese name and really challenging dot pictures of Mount Fuji. It’s time for Dotsoku!

JOKES

I’m horrible at telling them and even more horrible at writing them but I have a sure fire way of writing a winner.

There was a Rabbi, Priest and the Dalai Lama sitting in a………..

Potential punchlines

Something about Jewish people being tight with money, something about priests molesting small boys or something about the Chinese invasion of Tibet in 1950 and subsequent cultural genocide that still goes on to this day.

or

There was a Japanese guy, English guy and Australian guy standing in a…………

Potential punchlines

Something about an inability to pronounce their r’s and l’s properly (supplies!), something about bad teeth and mad dogs or something about the betrayal of young stupid Australians by our federal police force that has led to life imprisonment or the death penalty for these young stupid Australians or how Jackboot Johnny Howard doesn’t like Muslims.

See you can’t go wrong.

GOOD READING!

When I’m bored at home I’ll surf around in a desperate attempt to find something decent to read which is surprisingly or maybe not surprisingly very difficult to find on the internet. There is so much dross floating around and it’s pretty rare to find somebody with something intelligent to say and it’s not just because he uses lots of really big words that make me appreciate my dictionary. His blog does deal with far more important issues than mine like race, identity and sexual inequality (admittedly that wouldn’t be very hard as my blog deals with very important issues like public drunkenness in foreign countries and cat jokes and that’s pretty much it). I found his articles on a typical Korean’s racial awareness and racial stereotyping particularly interesting and perhaps a little shocking but not as scary as the idea that one in ten Korean women may work in the sex industry (scratch Korea for future bride. Maybe Thailand?). Just ignore the most recent entry about his pussies though I’m sure he loves them very much (sorry another cat joke. Blame British comedy).

http://metropolitician.blogs.com/

SPANKING THE SEA MONKEYS

I have a confession to make. After years of hearing references to sea monkeys on American TV and movies to this day I have erroneously believed that this was an American euphemism for ejaculate. After thinking about this logically I realised that selling sperm to kids is probably illegal in most countries and plus not very educational nor fun for the kiddies. So what is a sea monkey? It’s brine shrimp. Whale food. Well fancy that.

TONY THE PSYCHIC

A few months ago I was wandering through Greenwich after Sandy had promised me a free dinner for carrying back some of her shopping from Shanghai. In the end it turned out to be shoes and odd bits of clothes but a small part of me was hoping it wasn’t a brick of grade A Afghani skunk and I momentarily had panicked visions of being hauled away by the Chinese police and rotting away in a cell for thirty years (Just kidding Sandy!)

As we were walking to the restaurant we were accosted by this extremely persistent lady who was looking for volunteers to sit in the audience for the recording of a television show for the Canadian Discovery channel in which a psychic’s mental abilities would be tested. I thought why not and cajoled Sandy up the stairs.

Once inside a professor (to be referred to as The Professor) began to describe the tasks that Tony would be asked to perform. The first test. A “volunteer” was going to select a single word from one of three books. Tony was then going to attempt to read the volunteer’s mind to correctly guess that word. The second test. Tony would attempt to bend a real nail using his magic brain powers. The final test. Finally he would be asked to reconstruct a picture drawn by a volunteer. This was the surprise test that he didn’t know about. I almost “oohed!” in anticipation.

For some reason I had expected and old man with a flowing white beard, purple robes and a pointy hat. So yes someone resembling Merlin the Magician. I was disappointed. Tony was a non-descript looking man in his early forties in a neat dark suit, really only noticeable if you’d tripped over his briefcase as you got off the Tube to work. Scratch one preconception Hippy = Psychic.

“Are you ready Tony?” The Professor began. Tony was a picture of cool, calm and collected as he replied. “Yes I am”

To increase the level of difficulty I began to project the word “tosser” towards him in an attempt to deflect the volunteer’s brain waves and have Tony embarrassingly utter it when he had to guess the word.

“Is there an S?” “Yes” Okay good start. Keep concentrating.

“Is there a T?” “Yes” Woohoo!

“Is there an R?” “Yes” Am I really doing this? Focus brain energy.

“Is there an E?” At this point in time I was starting to believe that I may indeed have some sort of psychic ability.

“Is there a V?” “No” Shit!

“Is it revolutions?” ”Yes”

I turned to Sandy quizzically as the camera panned across the audience to capture stunned silence.

“It’s time for the second test” The Professor handing the next volunteer, the lovely Charlie (she was really hot!) a nail.

Tony looked constipated. His face twisted and contorted with the effort of bending metal with his mind and beads of sweat began to form on his brow as he moved his hands around Charlie’s cupped hands.

“Can you feel anything moving?” I know I could.

“Yes it’s getting really hot” she squealed. It was getting kind of warm in there.

“Okay Charlie you can show us the nail now”

Charlie slowly opened her hands and lo and behold the nail was indeed bent as it lay gently shimmering in Charlie’s lovely hands. I was as flabbergasted as the heathens who had witnessed Jesus turn water into wine. I shook my head in disbelief.

To cut a long story short Tony did manage to recreate the picture that had been sealed in the envelope and my early skepticism had definitely begun to waver until they told us that it was all set up and it was really about the power of suggestion. I learnt a very important lesson. Damn I’m a gullible fuck.

So you may see me on Canadian Discovery channel. Just in case you don’t know I’m the Asian guy in the front with the slightly bewildered look on his face that screams “What the fuck just happened?”

SOMETHING I LEARNT FROM TV TODAY

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. The phrase apparently originated in World War 2 when soldiers would require a “chit” to go into town to visit the ladies of the night. Hence the phrase Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. I can’t wait for next Anzac Day. I’m going to hire out the local cinema and sell tickets to the Dick Van Dyke classic down at the returned serviceman’s club. I’ll make a killing though there may be some slightly disappointed veterans.

CURLING - THE SPORT OF HAIRDRESSERS

I’m currently slumped over my couch after a long night of playing texas hold em with the boys where I only ended up five quid down after which I cashed out due to terminal boredom. I’ve been channel surfing and have astonishingly found myself totally transfixed by curling. Its like lawn bowls on ice. It combines the extremely practical skill of sweeping with the not so practical skill of sliding a stone across ice.

I wonder about how these sports first originated as often it’s not so clear cut as something like javelin or the marathon so I did some research on the internet. Curling was invented by the Vikings. After a hard month’s raping and pillaging up and down the English coastline they liked nothing better than to relax by the fjords of Scandinavia with a good old game of curling. It was designed for the surprisingly cuckolded Viking men to practice their homemaking skills by the even larger Viking ladies. The stone replaced the traditional heads that were first used in the early 1900s when decapitation became socially unacceptable.

After watching it for an hour I was still baffled as to what was going on but totally agreed with the commentators about the Italian’s tactical naivety being their undoing and surprised about the Japanese’s adeptness at this sport though of course they are a very fastidious people.

A LITTLE ENGINE THAT COULD..........

The lessons I learnt from watching cartoons as a kid pretty much defined who I am today (I must also acknowledge Aesop’s Fables as another important contributor). One of my fondest memories are of watching “The little engine that could” as he chugged and chugged up that mountain side racked with self doubt but eventually overcoming them in a burst of steam and coal dust.

The most important lesson it taught me was about persistence. How important it is to be persistent and pursue your goals no matter what stands in your way.

A perfect example is my mate who I will call Cousin Ryan. We used to rib him incessantly about this girl who would always show up to the pub uninvited, call his home and talk to his mother and would just generally be there. It was pretty freaky after a while. Recently I heard that they are now going out. Now she had a clear strategy and eventually wore him down with her persistence. She hung in there and hung in there until not unlike “The little engine that could” she overcame his initial reluctance in a burst of steam and coal dust.

Toot! Toot!

I'VE BEEN DEFILED!

It finally happened to me. I was numb from shock. The trust that had been built over two and a half years was shattered in a moment of madness. I spent hours in the shower, foetus like scrubbing away the hurt longing for the protection of my mother’s womb.

Yes you guessed it. Some bastard skimmed 870 quid from my bank account. The fuckers cloned my card. Can someone tell me when the human race made this particular technological break through? I knew that we could clone sheep and maybe the odd two headed baby but chip and pin cards?

Luckily for me it was at the end of the pay cycle when I desperately struggle to rub two pennies together and avoid the first round at the pub like I avoid exercise and vegetables but unluckily I have a 500 quid overdraft which I imagine they spent with glee. How you manage to spend that much money at Boots I will never know. It’s impossible. I’ve tried and failed miserably.

What I would spend £870 on at Boots.

50 jars of VO5 Fibre Putty (hair product) £150
A pack of condoms £4 (you never know when you might get lucky)
A four pack of Mach 3 razors £10 (that should last me a year or two)
Moisturiser £5 (It’s totally acceptable for blokes to use this stuff)

Total Expenditure at Boots £169

It just doesn’t add up.

FREE AT LAST! FREE AT LAST! THANK GOD ALMIGHTY! WE ARE FREE AT LAST!

I dont think the Dead Kennedy's could express it more clearly. I quit!

Chorus: Take this job and shove it / I ain't working here no more / I will not get all the pieces / I've been working for / Paper cups, minimum wage / Just walk on out the door / Take this job and shove it / I ain't working here no more / (Chorus) / They'll have you in this factory / From now on for fifty years / All this time I see my woman / Drowning in her tears / I see a lot of people who / Got to have a piece of me / I'd give the shirt right off my back / If I had the nerve to say / (Chorus) / Let's all go use our sick leave up / And then we'll shoot some pool / Got brand new skinhead hair cuts / You think he's a fool / One of these days I'll blow my top / Or somebody's gonna pay / I'd hate to see the process / As you enter the factory and say / Take this job and shove it / I ain't working here no more / I won't let that shit bother me / That I've been working for / Paper cups, minimum wage / Just walk on out the door / Take this job and shove it / I ain't working here no more / Take this job and shove it / I ain't working here, ain't working here, ain't working here no more

Okay maybe just little over the top.