Archive for the ‘Moriarty’ Category

Boo!

March 12, 2007

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While I was in Hong Kong the other week, I noticed that Chinese construction workers used bamboo for scaffolding. Bamboo! YOU COULDN’T MAKE IT UP!

I’m now inspired to write the odd post in the style of Richard Littlejohn. I shall call my alter-ego John Littledick. Cos I’m clever an’ shit.

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They’ve been in Doctor Who # 4

March 12, 2007

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Ken Dodd

Smashing Time

March 12, 2007

You know when something horrible is imminent and time seems to slow? The plate slips and hurtles towards the ground, Rob Green saves only to see the ball fall to Paul Stalteri who shoots into the unguarded net, you’ve left a child in front of a tank. Horrible isn’t it?

Another popular example happened to me yesterday, with a flick of a cat’s arse, my wine glass was sent spinning to the ground. It could have been worse, only the stem broke, but it made me wonder, what actually is the point of having drinking vessels made of glass?

A couple of years ago I went on a picnic, naturally I would want to get blind pissed, so I bought a shed load of wine. And some glasses. Of course they weren’t actual glasses, they were made of plastic, but I can’t say I bought some plastics, that just sounds silly. But not as silly as taking actual glasses, they would have smashed in my bag and thus cut my face off when I tried to use them. Of course the risk of domestic glass mishap is far less but it does happen. A woman was jailed on Friday for severing her husband’s artery with a tumbler. So why don’t we use plastic all the time?

After a brief bit of research, the rather obvious answer was presented to me. Plastic scratches too easily and can’t be cleaned as well, thus making it far less hygienic than glass. Bugger.

Unfortunately no one can actually reach a consensus on why glass breaks so easily. After 2,000 years of making and breaking glass, one might think there would be a definitive answer. But at the Third International Workshop on the Flow and Fracture of Advanced Glasses (oh yes), held in the US in October 2005, 50 or so of the world’s top glass scientists (never really thought about those before) scratched their heads as researchers presented sharply conflicting views on the topic.

According to www.physorg.com a major international incident was narrowly avoided after several hours of heated discussion. Closer international co-operation on the issue is advised to find a (un)breakthough.  Until such time, I shall continue to risk life, limb and lip in the pursuit of alcoholic oblivion. And be irritated by cats.

Wasting Away

December 21, 2006

It’s a well known fact that I love Christmas, and it does tend to bring out the best and worst in people.  My mother would happliy invite various warring mutants to our house on Christmas Day, dertermined to give them a ‘normal Christmas experience’, completely forgetting that it was her family that usually had a new experince.  Many are the Christmases of yesteryear that I’ve watched presents being flung from first floor windows or games of Pictionary decend into bareknuckle boxing.

But one thing I dislike about Christmas is the waste, particularly in regard to cards. 

The average Brit sends 17 cards at Christmas, that’s over a billion across the country.  Or nearly 400,000 trees.

This is appalling and it’s a problem.  Happily there is a simple solution; stop sending cards you morons.  Or if you must send them, write them in pencil, then it can be erased and used again next year.  Of course you could always buy recycled ones I suppose.

They’ve been in Doctor Who # 3

December 21, 2006

Janet Ellis

They’ve been in Doctor Who # 2

November 9, 2006

Hale and Pace.

They’ve been in Doctor Who # 1

November 1, 2006

 John Cleese.

Biz-Tsar

October 30, 2006

Earlier this month in Moscow I saw the largest collection of Fabergé Eggs in the world. Being a jet setting playboy I am used to such sights, but the Moscow Millionaire Fair opens everyone eyes. And quite possibly their legs. Boasting such tasteful delights as a solid gold baby’s dummy, a diamond encrusted mobile phone and a tropical island, the event hopes to beat last year’s turnover of $600 million. How worthy.

According to Forbes, 88,000 new millionaires have emerged from Russia in the last twenty years, leading to ever more extravagant methods to stand out from the crowd. This coupled with the fact that Russian weren’t allowed to own nice things in the Soviet Union goes some way to explaining the complete lack of taste and sophistication. You can get your tits done too.

One of the exhibitors is Park Avenue. This is their entry in the fair guide:

Feel the passion. See the beauty. Know the rogue spirit that is Randall Tysinger.

A bit rogue, a bit child, a bit brilliant artist. Swirl them all together, and splatter them on the canvas of humanity. That’s Randall Tysinger.

A quirky amalgam of humor and passion, Randall Tysinger lives by his senses. As owner of Randall Tysinger Antiques, one of the largest and most enchanting collections of European antiques in Northern America, Randall was born with a sixth sense about European antiques … their craftsmanship, their legacy, their ability to transform daily life into something more graceful and transcendent. That’s why he travels Europe’s back alleys and obscure shops in search of the incredible … the pieces that speak of lives past and of magical moments in history.

Having grown up in the family’s retail furniture business, the young Tysinger spent his childhood alternating between tomfoolery and serious protйgй. Yet in 1981, at the age of 29, Randall created his own magical moment in history during a trip to Italy he had won for selling mattresses. Upon arrival in Florence, the rogue artist inside him took over, and he found himself sneaking away from his tour group to soak up the ambience and craftsmanship of the city’s back alley workshops. Not dissuaded by time nor the frantic tour guides searching for him, Tysinger spent the remainder of the trip studying the masters, not rejoining his tour group until minutes before the flight home.

What happened during that happy accident changed history. No longer was Tysinger destined to sell mattresses from the family furniture store in Thomasville, North Carolina. The third generation Tysinger would, indeed, carry the family name into the future, but no longer would he be hawking picnic tables and swing sets from a storefront. Instead, he would indulge his senses in the sights, sounds and touch of Europe’s finest antiques and bring them to America to share with those of like mind.

Today, the name of Randall Tysinger means more than exclusive European antiques. It represents the rogue child artist in each of us … the raw passion and the treasures we would hope to find if we could sneak away and scour the back alleys of Europe ourselves.

Now, the passion and beauty that drove Randall Tysinger to follow his heart into the alleys of Florence come together in the Randall Tysinger Collection for E.J. Victor. Feel the passion; see the beauty; know the rogue spirit that is Randall Tysinger.

Randell sounds like a right knob doesn’t he? More for fans of Catherine Tate than Catherine the Great.

And what on Earth’s a serious protйgй?