*** Update Break ***: Scaryduck is currently on his world tour of backward under-developed countries (such as ...err... The United States of America) and unless he is able to give Mrs Scary and the Ducklings the slip, will be unable to update the Blog until mid-May. Bummer.

In the meantime, you'll be pleased to hear that I have been ordained into the Universal Life Church as a priest, just like every other bandwagon jumper on the internet. They'll take anyone, including lying, scheming sexual deviants like myself who'd sell their own granny for a can of beer. I am now a reformed character, and that business with the church funds was just a big mistake. The money was just resting in my bank account before I gave it to those African orphans, that's all.

It turns out that I am now entitled, under US law to perform weddings, baptisms, funerals and blessings. But not circumcisions, I've reluctantly, I've put my rusty garden shears back in the shed. For an extra fee, you can even choose your own title, right up to ArchBishop, but in true Father Ted style, I shall remain a priest. Funnily enough, the whole idea of the priesthood does make you a better person. I even gave up surfing for porn. For a bit.

To keep you going for a bit, he's a small list of useless internet tat I've picked up in the last week or so. Use it wisely.

* Are you a bastard? Take the Bastard Test. I am 67% bastard, of which 38% is "tard". Result.

* Which dictator are you? I am Fidel Castro. Could've been worse, a lot of people I know are George W Bush. The poor bastards.

* Learn to speak like Inpector Clouseau. Use it in everyday conversation. "I 'ave fixed your dorrbell from ze ringing. Zere is no charge."

* Get a your own puppet! Quite the most frightening page on the internet. Even worse than that fella who dresses up as Peter Pan, and that's saying something.

* And finally, all the proof you need that you watch far too much TV. A celebration of Television clocks, and far, far, worse TV test cards and music. Life, somehow, has passed these poor people by.

Catch you all in May. I'm off to think of a new answer to the US Customs question "Do you intend to harm the president?", the response "Sole purpose of visit" likely to get me into a small, windowless office with a large gentleman wearing latex gloves...

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Swearing on TV: Not big, not clever: I fear I may have blown my chance for TV stardom again. There I was, doing a bit of window shopping in town, when I was brutally accosted by a camera crew filming a TV commercial for Walkers Crisps.

"Eat some of the crisps", said the rather too happy girl with the mic, "and tell the camera what you think. Be honest."

So I did. A great big cheek-bulging mouthful, trying, but failing to stop myself from spitting half-chewed lumps of deep-fried potato at the lens, I spoke my brains. "They're fookin' ace."

Obviously, I'm not going to get on the prime-time advertising slot. Not unless they do a Tourette's Syndrome special. I've been on TV before. It's grossly over-rated.

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YaaaaY! It's Payday!: And to celebrate the fact, I've pissed it up the wall on CDs. Amongst the titles that I insist on you going out and buying RIGHT NOW are:

* John Foxx - The Pleasures of Electricity -- former Ultravox! frontman returns with bazzin' dance sound
* Primal Scream - Xtrmntr -- the kings of the bazzin' dance sound return to out-bazz everybody else. Totally bazzin'
* Spiritualized - Let it Come Down - I remained steadfastly un bazzed, but top notch nontheless
* Led Zeppelin IV -- ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOCK!
* Joy Division - Permanent -- that's it, I've finished being bazzed, now I think I'm going off to top myself now

Hardly bazzin' at all are the books I managed to snaffle out of my local branch of Smiths. Yes officer, I did pay for these:

* Shackleton by Roland Huntford --- a freezing-your-nads off homage to the legendary polar explorer.
* Muhammed Ali edited by Thomas Hauser -- "With the co-operation of Muhammed Ali". Buy this book or The Greatest will come down and whup your ass!
* The Last Hero by Terry Pratchett. Worth seeking out this hardback beauty if not for the story but for the superb illustrations of Paul Kidby.

Beg, buy, borrow, or in the case of Terry "Britain's Most Shoplifted Author" Pratchett, steal any of the above. It'll be good for your karma. Honest. I'm off to post evil comments on FARK!, as my heavily enriched karmic energies need turning down. It's either that or porn.

Obligatory pointless Take-a-Test link: Are You Evil? Take the test! I am 55% evil, which is pretty baaaad if you ask me. Not bad for a partially domesticated water fowl.

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Banzaaaai!!!!: Bet! Bet! Bet! Now! Now! Now! How we laughed as top TV show Banzai had to be stopped by the Met Police from using a speed gun on the Queen Mum's hearse. All the papers are bleating about bad taste, even the Sun, whose own idea of good taste is to have some bird with her baps out on Page Three (not safe for work)

If you don't know about Banzai, it's a spoof on Japanese TV where viewers are invited to bet on unlikely events. Like how fast the Queen Mum's hearse was going through Chiswick. Come on, Police dudes, she was a betting woman - it's what the old dear would have wanted.

In the spirit of useless tests on the internet appearing in people's blogs, Banzai are being left behind. You come here, take personality test. What you waiting for? Christmas? And always remember the ancient proverb: A smile is just like a bottom, but turned sideways.

My Banzai personality: "You more furious than cat in washing machine. You belong in bouncy room, with your mad face. Stay away, you hear? Us normal people must hide from your own brand of hilarious yet lethal mental illness. Why you so angry? Is it cos you an ugly faced plop who smell like an outflow pipe? What you want to hit me? Take your best shot, stink factory!"

Yup, that sounds about right.

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The Pink Oboe: Another of those pointless web diversions. And who says that porn is the only thing the web's good for? Oh yeah... everybody.



Natch, if Mrs Scary sees this I'm a dead duck. I'll end up plucked and basting in my own juices with an orange up my arse. Still, mustn't grumble, comes to all of us sooner or later.

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Bring Back the Cattle Trucks!: I've just been to hell. By train. You may have read my survival guide to travelling by rail (somewhere below), but today it all went horribly tits. I did everything right. I found my corner seat. I plugged into Led Zep II (volume up to eleven) and spread out. That's when God sent the Munsters. Family of six sweary, snotty, screamy smelly people with far to much luggage to be entirtely natural to torture me for two and a half hours. I contemplated murder, but I was hopelessly outnumbered.

I am, then, forever in debt to the little old lady who told them to "Bloody shut that $%&*ing noise, get your feet off the &*^$£%^ seats and get your mounds of rubbish out of the $%^&*^% aisles before I have you put off this train at the next station", to the smug satifaction of the rest of the carriage. God, I can be a real chicken at times. When you've been at the wrong end of Men With Guns, you know when to keep your head down. Even when it's the Munsters making abit of noise on the 0948 to Waterloo.

Ah well, things could be worse. Nope, just found out that things ARE worse...



Today's loud, shouty and ever-so-twiddly-guitar playlist:
Never Mind the Bollocks, Here's the Sex Pistols - bought this on vinyl around 1979, thought it might be time to get the CD. I miss the crackles, pops and the needle jumping during "Problems"
Led Zeppelin II - Rock! Sorry, that's ROOOOOOOOOOOCK!!!!
The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spider of Mars - Wait a minute while I get into my spangly jumpsuit

Twenty-five years ago I would have been run out of town for owning that particular combination. Which is probably a good thing that I was still listening to The Muppet Show Album at the time. Still, Animal rocked, and he's still got the coveted drummer position in my fantasy rock band.

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OH MY GOOD GOD! Is there a doctor in the house?: I've got farkin' SCABIES! Horrible itchy, rashy farkin' scabies. Wha? How? I prefered it when I thought I had shingles. At least herpes is more socially acceptable than farkin scabies. It can only be a Wrath of God thing. I've been bad. Sorry, God.

And while we're here, I'd just like to point you towards this news story. Britain is, alas, suffering from an acute shortage of tits. If you see any tits, let me know. Better still, send me photographic evidence.

Quote of the Day: "If God didn't want us to eat animals, he wouldn't have made them out of meat."

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