spiffingwheeze

You just couldn’t make it up. (Not With that beard – the foundation would be a right state):

Austrian drag act Conchita Wurst  (doesn’t that mean sausage?) has been crowned the winner of the 2014 Eurovision Song Contest held in Copenhagen, Denmark.

The singer, real name Tom Neuwirth, won with the Bond-esque tune “Rise Like a Phoenix”.

The UK’s Molly Smitten-Downes came 17th.

Rumours abound that the winning song will be the soundtrack for the to-be-announced Bond Film tentatively named either “GotNoPussy” or “Guy Another Day”.

We can only wonder what next year will bring…

Surely it’s time for a cross-species transgender dwarf ensemble with explosives sewn inside them for an unrepeatable finale to shine?

It was a Friday, I was stood, bored, outside the post office in the sleepy village that accommodates the soulless business park / office blot on the landscape where I work.

A colleague was inside the post office, posting some dogshit to someone he hates, holding the place up, or generally doing whatever the fuck, before we experienced the highlight of the week in the form of a bag of chips on the way back to the office. Well it was a Friday after all, so why not go mental eh?

I was propped up outside the post office, watching coffin dodgers wobbling wheezily in and out of  the door, and was finally sufficiently overcome with tedium to review that most ancient portal of local nonsense, for local people: The pin board in the window.

Think of it, if you will,as an ancestor of certain parts of the Internet, where now, only old people know how to make a posting.

As my can-hardly-be-arsed eyes scanned the board itself, they fell upon a card, and it awoke me from my zombie stupor. Some filthmonger was advertising her womanly wares in the local postoffice! At knock down prices!

Filth!

This lady of negotiable affections, was brazenly offering to grill any gentleman’s kippers for a mere £8 an hour!

Now a couple of thoughts crossed my mind:

1. That’s a very open-minded postmaster to accept such a card for the window
2. That as the average person posting a card here was probably over 60, that may not be  the bargain it sounds, not unless you have some very specialist tastes.

And no, there wasn’t a third point, you dirty-minded gits.

However, it helps if you read the title…

Not filth

As you were people…as you were.

Another Oldie.

I Even drew this the wrong way round but whatever – here it is…

SA Man with no legs in shooting incident fights for a leg to stand on.
Plane missing now declared lost 2 plus weeks on, in massive expanse of water, but British boffins cleverly narrow it down to a mere 1 million sq kilometres.

Publicist not enjoying publicity via court-reported humiliation.

Photos of early morning makeup-free shockers accidentally sponsor polar bears.

Disgraced ex bank boss minister caught doing naughty stuff in sin confession guilt assuaging. Boo de fucking hoo.

Cold war bunged back in microwave to heat it up. Try watching laugh a minute BBC sitcom ‘Threads’ to relive growing up in the 80s. Sleep well.

Ebola virus spoils taste for eating bats. Insert own insensitive Ozzy Osbourne wisecrack here.

70s glam rock group Mud now unlikely to launch comeback tour in USA. (Own insensitive wisecrack really not needed here)

Generally news full of depressing shite, repeated speculation ad nauseum, magazine style titbits, and bitesize analysis by a ragtag bunch of random experts dragged uncomfortably before a camera.

Next!

The mysterious disappearance of the Malaysian Airways flight shows that whilst electronically the world may be turning into a global village, physically, there’s still sodding loads of square footage. Particularly true if you’re an aerial spotter looking for something that doesn’t want to float, amongst thousands of square miles of shining blue sea.

If the mysterious flight did indeed carry on flying for 5 hours after losing contact, it could be almost anywhere.

In terms of the size of that plane v the amount of ocean, it’s a speck. If it has gone under the waves it’s probably not going to turn up soon.

I doubt some of the conspiracy theories. If kidnappers forced it to try and fly somewhere, then it looks like it never made it. But I don’t think ET and chums are responsible. Pity the poor souls onboard. I doubt they are awaiting rescue. It’s not an episode of Lost.

P.S. whilst on the topic of air travel: Given the Norfolk helicopter crash today taking out another millionaire, maybe rich folk should reconsider getting helicopters to shuttle them about. I would say ask Colin McRae, but… Hmmm. Just don’t do it. All that money’s not much use when you realise, far too late, you should’ve spent some of it on a statue or something, rather than a fragile lightweight box slung under a big whirling blender blade.

This is nothing against Russia in particular. Let me make that perfectly clear.
But frankly, 30 billion pounds for a bunch of elite athletes to fuck about on snow and ice is a lot.
Last year, in the UK, that annoying twunt  bear Pudsy raised 31 million pounds for children in need,and everyone was gushing with amazement.
Just look at the scale of difference. It is nauseating. The amount of good that could  be done with that money. Think. Smiling athletes in a 30 billion pound backdrop, guarded against terrorist attack and scary gay people by a massive security force. Or one donation of staggering scale, able to make a difference on this planet for decades to come.

Next time, whoever is hosting this conspicuous cash spunking, just give the money to cancer research or something. Tell you what. As a token gesture, hold back 1 billion, and let everyone on earth  download a copy Of Horace Goes Skiing, for some kind of winter sporting experience. (Look it up)…
Wake up everybody. Fucking wake up. This is terrible, terrible, terrible.
Shame on us all. A monumental insult to common sense.
Stupid humans…

Gazing into the swirling cess pit of general drudgery, not altogether convinced that non-linear time theory representing a multiverse of infinite branching choices should probably have brought me here, my mind wandered back to Aesop’s fables.
Something of a childhood favourite book.

What depth of analysis could it add to my current inability to see anything other than that which is exposed by visible light from the EM spectrum?
What insight may be gained from wisdom dispensed by parable or fable ancient?

Downloading a copy of said Fables from Mr. Edison’s electromagnetic intermaweb, and hopping haphazardly through the table of contents, the inspiration was clear.

Indeed, this one fable caught my eye,  from the chucklesome title alone.
Here is the fable, paraphrased slightly for my own sick amusement:

The Playful Ass

An Ass climbed up onto the roof of a building, and, twatting about there, broke the roof tiles and generally made a hooftwoddling ladypart of itself. The owner went up after him and drove him down, dispensing his considered opinion on the incident via the medium of a stout piece of 2 by 4.

The Ass said, “Why I saw the Monkey do this very thing yesterday, and you all laughed heartily, as if it afforded you very great amusement.”

So.

What can we learn?

1. Nobody likes a smart ass.

The owner was upset by the holes in the roof. So…

2. Nobody likes an ass hole.

3. Monkeys are funny. However, you’re not allowed to dress them up, give them toffees and make them advertise tea anymore, for said amusement.

4. Violence solves many problems.

5. In an alternative universe version of this posting, it’s much more amusing. And less so. And not there at all.

Actually, I don’t think it’s helping.

Fire up the PlayStation…