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My fellow bloggers, it is with heavy heart and great sadness that I must bring you the following news. At 09:00 Zulu on the 28th of June 2008 the Strategic Sock Command moved to SockCon 4 as 6 fully folded, live socks were taken from secure storage and transported to North Norfolk. A pair of active duty socks were sent as escort.

At 21:45 Zulu on the 1st of July 2008 the spent socks, along with others, were loaded into the reprosessing facility to clean them prior to refolding. Due to confusion mixing socks from local containment and from the travel containment normal protocol was not followed and the socks were not counted into the facility. at 23:00 Zulu the socks were removed from the reprocessing facility and taken to be dried in the airing facility. At this point it was noticed that a MkII ‘grey’ sock was missing. SSC immediately moved to SockCon 3 and a full scale local search was undertaken.

The search was called off at 23:20 with the missing sock still unaccounted for. SSC has now advanced to SockCon 2 and a ‘broken arrow’ situation has been declared. It is hoped that the missing sock is still in Norfolk and will be located later this week, however, if it is not found by Saturday there will be no choice but to move to SockCon 1.

I must remind everyone that this outcome is by no means certain and we should not panic. I urge that everyone stay calm and continue to go about their day to day lives. In the mean time I ask that you keep communication channels between Colchester and Cromer clear. May whatever deity you beleive in have mercy on our souls.

Thank you for your time.

Just discovered this blog and have gone through all 50 pages of posts whist laughing rather a lot. Go, see, laugh

So today I am in Vauxhal enjoying a tall, classic hot chocolate, no whiped cream to drunk in… no cream… excuse me, I asked for no cream. No, I haven’t started sampling Starbucks near random tube stations, but instead I am killing time before having a Friday curry with Dan[DerDanDan] so I can chalk up another ‘random person what I met on teh internetwebs’ and put a face to name. I was hoping to meet up with the Soupster too but they’re making her work today (boo hiss) so she can’t make it.

Since this is being posted from just outside the MI6 building I shall not be using the following words: Osama Bin Laden, bomb, jihad, nuclear device, hijack, duty bomb, suicide bomber, chemical weapon or death to the infidel. Hopefully you’ll understand

OK, so last night may not have been as sweet and innocent as I made out. In my defence I was tired, the whole clubbing euphoria had worn off and I was weak. There’s no easy was to say this so I’ll just come out with it:

I had a double bacon and sausage McMuffin meal this morning

I was sensible and had orange juice as my drink but that’s no defence. I am a bad man. The problem is I’m not even sorry. I enjoyed every mouthful of artifically flavoured reconstituted meat, rubbery egg and processed cheese as the fat dripped on to the wrapper below. I hope this doesn’t cause you to think anything less of me, but I’ll understand if it does.

So I’ve started using Twitter which is basically a way for me to put innane one liners on this blog on the right hand side very much like I do with my Facebook status. The joys of comming to this site just know no bounds

On the subject of anoying people the Web 2.0 way I’ve also bunged the iLike app on my Facebook profile (those of you on Facebook may have noticed my unwillingess to install most [read all] of the apps that people have invited me to use. I just can’t be bothered with it). I do, however, like inflicting what I’m listening to at the moment on people hence iLike. Now you should be able to go see what I’ve been playing, listen to it and run away screaming

So I was reminded today of a phrase that we used to say to a very good friend of mine back in the days before he thought it was a wonderful idea to jump off mountains with nought but a teatowel on his back (it’s a telling fact that I stood last Tuesday, as I do every year on the aniversary of his death, looking at the night sky and thinking “you prat!”). Scott had a way with words in so far as they had a tendancy to tumble out of his mouth before any kind of filtering or sensorship could be applied, often to histerical effect at his, or someone elses expense. A sage peice of advice that we would tell him repeatably (and that he would ignore completely) was:

A closed mouth gathers no foot.

I think more people than just Scott could benifit from this, especially fwengebola who has one of the funniest blogs I’ve ever read.

So as I peruse my spam mail folder, which I do every couple of days just to make sure I’m not about to delete anything important, I’ve noted of late that the ‘enhancement’ emails have stopped going on about how I will never fail to satisfy her (whoever she may be, which could be the first hurdle in actually satisfying her as I’m pretty sure one needs to be in close proximity for that kind of thing) to how I will never have trouble finding hordes of nubile young women willing to sleep with me.

Let’s take a moment to think about this. Assuming these things actually work (and, in case you’re unsure, THEY DON’T) the only things different about you are that you’ve got a bit less money, you’ve taken some pills/used a pump and you’ve got a bigger dick. The important question is, therefore, do any of the following chatup lines cause women to go weak at the knees:

“Hi, I’ve spent money on penis enhancements.”

“Hi, I use penis enhancements.”

“Hi, I’m hung like a blue whale.”

I could be wrong about this, which may go some way to explain why I remain stubornly single, but I’m pretty sure that all three lines, despite being different will all sound, to the female ear, like:

“Hi, I’m a complete knob.”

Not only that, but I would surmise that the chances of this kind of approach working are exactly the same as the chances of any of the treatments on offer working. Of course this is where we need the laydeez to confirm/deny. Perhaps being a complete arse and saying things like that works.

Now, if my suspicion is correct, and I rather think they are, it does leave one last question: Who the hell believes these emails and buys this stuff? Do you honestly think a few pills are going to turn you into a rutting powerhouse hung like the last grand national winner? Needless to say these poor, misfortunate souls will be spared shooting when I am put in power and will, instead, be put on display for public ridicule and humiliation. Who says I can’t be a benevolent tyrant?

It worries me somewhat that I can relate to this cartoon

I love kitchen gadgets. For me wondering around Lakeland is an exercise in pure joy. One of my favorite toys is my mango cutter.

Behold the mango: tasty, juicy and an absolute pain in the rectum to eat.

Behold the mango cutter: simple, elegant, effective

You apply one to the other thusly:

And the seed is cut out leaving two mango halves to eat with a spoon and the seed to gnaw upon. What could be better than that?

I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I’m just constantly eating and it’s not as if I’m all that hungry, but I’m not exactly full either. I had 4 slices of toast for breakfast (at about 10:30), then a roast dinner at the pub at about 2, then pudding, then another pudding, then a treacle pudding because you’ve got to really, then a third… er… fourth pudding (the apple tart was absolutely lovely ), then 4 peperamis, if not more. Now I have a serious desire for a large mixed kebab and chips which is absolutely ludicrous because I can’t finish one of them even if I’m starving. I’m going to cook up some spag bol that’s been defrosting, watch the last two episodes of Lost and see if that calms the munchies down. Hopefully it’s just the body restocking after Wednesday nights unpleasantness.