The War on Chickens
Following Scarybrother's tale of indestructable brain-eating chickens taking over the world [again - is there no end to his genius?], I've come up with further evidence - if it were needed - of the armour-piercing qualities of the ordinary farmyard fowl and its use as an integral part of the western military-industrial complex. In other words - if they ever organise themselves into an effective fighting force, we're doomed.
For what material do aircraft manufacturers turn to in order to test the resiliance of their designs against the very real threat of bird-strikes and collisions with fast-moving debris? Oven Ready Chickens.
Every week, British Aerospace sends the office boy down to Tescos for a dozen of Bernard Matthew's finest with giblets; and still frozen solid, they are fired out of a pneumatic cannon at Eurofighters until they break. Then, with the oven pre-heated to gas mark four, they go down very well with roast potatoes and gravy.
And thussly, frozen chickens won the Cold War.
It's true. Honest.
Call me a cynical bastard, but what's the deal with candlelit vigils? What is it that drives otherwise sane people to stand out in the cold singing "We Shall Overcome" [up there with "Rock DJ" by Robbie Williams as Worst Song Ever Written, Ever], wasting perfectly good candles for the victims of Dhobi's Itch in Central American dictatorships? I need to know.
The trouble with candlelit vigils for any number of worthy causes is this: they're held at night. In the dark. Often in cold, draughty places such as churches or outside the BBC, where the only heat comes from smouldering TV Licences. Nobody will notice, as they're all at home watching Eastenders or shouting out the answers to Millionaire.
As empty, meaningless gestures go, candlelit vigils are right up there with cutting off both your feet to show solidarity with Douglas Bader.*
You'd be far better off sending your candles to the Home for Impoverished Lesbians, where you know they'll be put to good use.
* Or... waving at Stevie Wonder
... gift-wrapping a fart
... voting for Robert Kilroy-Silk
... going to a wife-swapping party with Graham Norton
2005 Bloggie Awards
Well, colour me non-plussed. I am a finallist in the 2005 Bloggie awards for "Best Tagline", going head-to-head with Random Acts of Reality.
I'm so happy I could just poo. Go vote for me. While you're there, you may as well squander your vote on My Boyfriend is a Twat, Petite Anglaise, Policeman's Blog and, oooh, loads of others.
You may have trouble getting in, mind, as the website's exploded: 2005.bloggies.com