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Go to Jens blog and scroll down to the last picture to understand why I am sitting in the office giggling uncontrolably & getting some strange looks.

I have finally overcome my apathy and added a few more of you to my stalking list. If anyone wants removal let me know. Red has also caused me cross over to the darkside and dabble with Myspace. But I dont really understand it and I cant use it from work. So its probably going to be a brief flirtation. Although a number a attractive women have already contacted me with offers of free sex. Just visit their site. (small joining fee). Hmm.

Lebanon an on an on

So you live in a tough neighbourhood. You own a gun. Let everyone know you own a gun & that if they even so much as look at you their meat. Fair enough. But don’t beat the guy who shares your flat.

The Middle East’s not a fun place to be at present. So who’s fault is it?

Well a large part of the blame goes to us for creating Israel without any thought to the people already living there.

And if it wasn’t for uncle Adolph’s evilness there probably would be no Jewish homeland so Germany gets some of the blame.

Certainly the Israeli’s appalling treatment of the Palestinians has been one of the major factors in driving a terrorst action against them.

And the Lebanese government did far to little to prevent Hezbollah operating from within their country.

Syria and Iran pretty much fund & arm Hezbollah.

Hezbollah’s (and its supporters & predecessors) refusal to talk & clear aim of the destruction of the state of Israel has resulted in Israel’s policy of overwhelming armed response.

The UN ‘peace keeping’ force in southern Lebanon has not done a terrific job.

The US has supported Israel’s policy of overwhelming response both verbally & with serious armament.

Yup. Its pretty much everybody’s fault. Except, possibly, the Tuvali’ians.

Given that we feel justified in murdering 40,000 people in a country miles away because there is a slight chance that it may be developing weapons that might one day be used against us, Israel killing a measly 400 innocents when they are actually attacked by their neighbours seems reasonable. But reasonable aint the same as right. Because the numbers are also people.

I sit in my garden & the birds are singing & the bees are buzzing. And a big fat orange caterpillar is climbing my fuchsia. And the world seems like a pretty good place. And all around humans are concentrating their hugely impressive brains on finding ways to kill and maim one another. We built the Taj Mahal. We can transplant hearts. Hell, we put men on the moon. There is almost nothing we cannot achieve. So lets bomb the crap out of one another. you know, I'm not entirely convinced that our species is making the most of its potential.

I don’t have a solution for the middle east problem. But I would guess that a good start would be for everybody to stop killing each other. Or is that just crazy talk?

6.30 am

I love being out in my garden first thing in the morning in this hot weather. This morning was wonderful. For some reason there were hundreds of bumble bees collecting in the flower beds. And I had left the sprinkler on overnight and a couple of wrens were playing in the puddles on the lawn and trilling away. I watched the baby frogs returning to the pond where they spend the day & I saw one consume a bluebottle that was almost half the frogs size. The little frog just sauntered up & dived on the fly mouth agape. And then sat there looking rather shocked. But presumably not as shocked as the fly. In my youth I could get an entire mars bar in my mouth sideways (until the tragic incident where I was unknowingly given one of the new king sized bars) but this was the equivalent of someone consuming a whole live sheep. In the other pond the goldfish seem less timid now, they have certainly sorted out the mosquito population. Unfortunately I discovered a fish corpse on the lawn - damn cats. But even that, or indeed stepping in a giant hedgehog turd with bare feet, didn't spoil my morning.

Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies...

'I also believe human life is a sacred gift from our creator. I worry about a culture that devalues life, and believe as your president I have an important obligation to foster and encourage respect for life in America and throughout the world' - George Bush

Iraq
coalition casualties: 2795
Civilian casuaties: between 39284 - 43744. no one knows for sure.

"Every tragic loss of our own forces -- we see that as a setback and as a failure, when we should be seeing that as a renewed urgency for us to rise to the challenge of defeating these people." -- Prime Minister Tony Blair

so Tony 2795 tragic losses. And 40,000 forign people we dont give a stuff about?

Lets Twist Again...

I spent a very pleasant evening at Chez Austin-Booth on Saturday. And in amongst the storms and power cuts there was beer, witty conversation, good food and, thanks to the almost god like Chin man, Twister. Now its been a while or more since I played, but am I not young, fit and virile? Well, erm. No. So in game one I got an agonising cramp in my calf. And only a fool would not take this as a sign. Hmmm. So onto game two. And in amongst the usual ugly blokes taking part are Emma and Jenny. Now, no matter which particular bottom rating system you use, these are two girls who score high. And I find myself twisted into a position that should be unbearable. Except that my head is directly between these two sets of pert young butt cheeks. And the girls are bending and stretching. And for an aging pervert this is a good place to be. So despite screaming muscles and tearing sinews I stayed in the game until the mighty Chin fell & took a large number of us with him.

This morning I got out of bed & collapsed onto the floor as my left leg totally failed to function. And I spent an hour hobbling around like some aged crone. I think its time to accept that I am now too old to play twister any more. But not, thank the lord, too old too ogle fit girls bottoms.

A dictator to far ?

As you may know, I aspire to be ruler of the world. Grand Master, Supreme tyrant, most exalted. The big I am. And I shall rule with an iron fist in a velvet glove. Without the glove.
And obviously the key to attaining top dog status is having the correct facial hair.













But despite the fine columbian drug lord style lip rat that I have cultivated I seem to be no closer to world domination. Well, its time for drastic measures. No more Mr nice guy...

Burn baby burn

Its Hot Hot Hot. And I love it. At 6.30 this morning I was in the garden & it was so nice I found myself dancing (badly). Disco inferno indeed. The water company have not fitted me a water meter yet - I'm still on a flat fee so the garden sprinkler is permenantly on and to those of you in the affluent south I mock your hose pipe bans.

Cricket, more art than sport?

Perhaps nothing sooths the soul more than cricket. The smell of fresh mown grass, the gentle sound of willow on leather, polite applause, sun warmed beer and good manners. But best of all, the soft inane babble of the commentators, that seems to harken back to an earlier, simpler time.

Some of my favourite BBC commentary from the first day of the test...

"Inzamam bent down there like an old man inspecting his marrows."

“Collingwood has shaped his stubble into a golden goatee for this match, but his efforts are rather teenage compared to the mature beards on display from Inzamam and Afridi.”

A bad start for England's new captain - he gets an inside edge to an Umar Gul inswinger and absorbs the full pace of the new ball on the Strauss family jewels

“The partnership is now up to 93, and three large men in the stands wearing Hawaian shirts tuck into fresh pints to celebrate.”

"I opened up my computer yesterday and everything worked perfectly. I did the same again today and it asked me for a password. Can anyone explain why?"

“Michael Vaughan rises from his seat in the executive box, is handed a pair of crutches and limps away like a Dickensian villain.”

“The post-lunch period has witnessed an immediate and dramatic increase in the number of old men falling asleep in the pavilion.”

“Depending on your point of view, it's either a gripping chess-like battle or a mid-afternoon yawn-fest”

Kaneria is coming on for a quick twiddle as Pakistan push for a fourth wicket. He licks his fingers as Collingwood eyes him calmly from the other end.

“Inzamam did the double teapot at slip when he saw that bit of fielding from Kaneria”

Collingwood, perhaps aware that virtually the whole pavilion is now asleep, livens things up with two fours pulled over midwicket

Delight in the TMS commentary box as a delivery of pork pies arrives just as Mike Gatting comes on air.

England's number four is wearing heavy white lipstick - sorry, sun-screen - despite a complete absence of sun all morning. It makes him look a little New Romantic - or, taken as whole with his whites and pads - like a photo negative of a cricket-loving Goth

Doom Ducks 2

Still in a bad mood.
I just linked to the evilmeter from reds site.


What? Its not for want of trying damn you. Note to self: must be more evil. Possibly a few more dwarf specific questions might have tipped the balance.

Bah and Humbug.

Demon Ducks of Doom

I’m in a bad mood. Don’t really know why. But I am.
Even the discovery of fossilised carnivorous ducks & a killer kangaroo down under failed to cheer me up. Ok, my job is crap at present. But its easy & well paid and I think I have engineered a sideways move off project deep kack and into a nice metrics role. Sexy numbers. So its not that.

And back at the money pit that is chez rich all progresses. The garden is coming along, The roof has not come down & the budget is tight but not yet blown. The social calendar is booked every weekend until October. The sun shines. Life is pretty good.

But I’m still in a bad mood.

Ok. In part it is having my mate Gary the dwarf staying. The idea was that he took this opportunity to sort out his life. But instead he’s using it as a chance to do fuck all for a bit longer. The promises of doing voluntary work, investing in property, travelling the world, etc were so much hot air & instead he spends his days watching living TV. Which is a bit off pissing when you get home from a day in the office. Indeed, the other Sunday after a beer too many I blew up and told him what a useless waste of space he was. And realised afterwards that it had been his birthday & I had forgotten it entirely. Ok, a bit of guilt there. Still, on the plus side he said he’d move out. Of course there is no sign of that actually happening. So I’m feeling a bit that my space has been invaded. But Chez rich is pretty big, & the refuge that is the crown is always available. So it doesn’t really account for my present mood.

Which is bad. I’m in a bad mood.
But Scientists have dug up fossils of giant carnivorous ducks. And called them the demon ducks of doom. So it’s a tad less bad than it was.

All you need is love

Scientists studying Mammoth genes can now state with certainty that a mammoths hair may or may not have been blond. And expert lip readers have determined that Materrazi may or may not have called Zidanes mother 'a muslim terrorist whore' shortly before recieving a Glasgow kiss. It seems that Keith Wood did not tumble from a coconut tree but rather fell out of a small bush. No one, especially the minister responsible, seems sure if the planned merger of police forces across the UK is to take place. All in all its an uncertain world.

But in a webcast to the Russian premier a Siberian farmer bemoaned the fact that all the girls had left his village and moved to the cities. In a direct appeal to Vladimir Putin he explained that it was ok though, because he had fallen in love with his favourite cow and he asked that the law be changed so that they could be married. Love is all you need.

Summertime, and the living is easy...

Mr Austin, my building bitch, laid my new patio on Saturday. First we lifted the old one. I moved a grand total of five slabs & was a complete wreck. So I went out & bought myself a sack truck. Its yellow and cheap. And after 10 minutes the wheels fell off. But OMR is nothing if not a sack truck repair expert, so it was fixed in a jiffy. The new slabs were delivered (I won't mention the cost in case I cry) and builder boy set to with a vengance. So the patio is mainly done & looks mighty fine. And like the sack truck its yellow.

I also bought some goldfish for pond no. 2. They are red and yellow. But no sign of them this morning so they are either hiding or the cats have had them already. The rest of the garden abounds with baby frogs. They seem to be everywhere except in the wildlife pond. I create a frog des res & they treat it like some sort of ghetto from which they must escape. Ingrates.

So things progress apace in the garden. The sun shines, the birds tweet (actually, the blackbirds scream incessantly from 4.30 am) the bees buzz, the flowers flower & the lawn turns brown. Its summer and life is good at chez Rich.

One Month Reminder

A year has past & once more OMR’s burnt meat & alcohol fest looms on the Horizon. Yup, the annual Barbie & booze up takes place on Saturday August 5th at Chez Rich from about 2pm. So if any of you are in the vicinity of Telford that day feel free to drop by. Uncrowned, are you available to man the furnace?

Please note: Those requiring coherent conversation from the host are advised to arrive early. All food and drink is consumed at own risk. All calls will be charged at 32p per second. The management accepts no responsibility. If symptoms persist seek professional medical advice. This product may contain nuts.

Hey now, hey now now,

Between 12.00 & 14.00 today they knock down a section of sea wall in Essex. Between 16.00 & 17.00 the tide comes in. After just 3 years and 7 million pounds the the Wallasea Wetlands come into existence. The Project is creating 115 hectares of wetland, including 7 artificial islands, saline lagoons, mudflats, new public footpaths, and 4km of sea wall. It will be used by birds including Brent geese, oystercatchers, Grey plovers, Dunlins, Shelducks, Curlews, Avocets and Little Terns. It will also provide a nursery habitat for fish such as bass, herring and mullet.

After a ruling in the European courts that the destruction of salt marsh that occurred during the 1990’s improvement of Kent’s ports was illegal the government was obliged to return an equivalent area to salt flats. And to be fair, they have done it in some style.

So today, in one small place, in one small way, we made our planet a little better. That makes me happy.

And tense, ... and relax.

I’m once again attempting to loose weight. But not by dieting. Oh no. You see, provided you use more calories than you intake you’ll lose weight. So my plan is to gorge myself senseless but do a lot more physical stuff. And the first half of the process is going really well. The second part is mainly good intentions at the moment. However, I was doing butt clenches at the vending machine, not realising my current boss (who’s quite cute in an alien invader kind of way) was standing behind me. And she’s not been on our floor of the office since. Not the slimming results I was expecting, but results never the less.

Mr Frog

I was in greenhouse number 2 & I lifted a fuschia & out jumped Mr Frog. And I boy did I jump. So we had another one of our battles of skill & intelligence & eventually I triumphed. So Mr Frog is back in pond number 1 where he belongs.