Upselling to the downtrodden

Why...

Buy a Coke at the cinema that is so big an Olympic diver could use it for high board practice… and you will need a pee half way through the movie if you drink it all? Sucker! You were upsold something useless… and probably with a box of popcorn deep enough to hide Jimmy Hoffa. As I trundle about my everyday life it's becoming nearly impossible not to have some snake oil salesmen try and upsell me on everything I buy. Let’s start with useless upsell number 1- High Octane Performance fuel. The Octane is a flammable hydrocarbon added to petrol and is basically the optimum compression point in the piston cycle when the fuel explodes. If my car can do that with 95 Octane it is an utter waste of money to buy 98 Octane ‘High Performance’ fuel. It will do nothing, zip, nada, blobski-bloojah, f*ck all in terms of performance and just cost me a few more cents per litre. Now that I have been conned out of a few bucks filling up, it’s time for a trip to my supermarket where I am inundated with upsell offers…the result of this is the interior of the car is filled with enough loo paper and fish fingers to supply a battalion of men in Helmand Province. Unless I have amoebic dysentery and only eat fish morning noon and night for thirty years I ain’t ever using it all. Time to go home and watch something on TV? Most digital services make you stack package on top of package before you can get to pay per view movies or entire series box sets. Why? It is irrelevant now with on line services offering pay per view circumventing the need to even have packaged TV… and to add insult to injury the pay TV services then want to charge me more on pay per view than iTunes!!

..and another thing (continue to read this post)

Double does not mean two of one

August 31, 2017
Fasion Health & Beauty Food & Drink Life Travel/Nature
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Why...

Am I surrounded by nitwits who fail to understand the difference between twice and double? I recently drove 1,200 miles in a car race around Spain and this entailed my wife and I stopping every night in a different hotel... each booked with a double bed. However most of the time this meant I slept in the San Andreas Fault line as hotels seem to think a double bed is just two singles shoved together. It isn't. Their restaurants certainly know the difference in price between a magnum of champagne and two single bottles. On the other hand, a double burger is a double sized patty not two measly bits of beef the consistency and size of a beer coaster stacked one on top of the other.

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This ain't my first rodeo

August 17, 2017
Life
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Why...

Do people assume that not being in the first flush of youth means I'm naive?

My spam inbox is of course awash with notices of my having inherited a fortune in Hong-Kong, asking to send money to a friend stranded in Cairo, helping corrupt government officials in Nigeria, to my recent favourite, I am about to be sued for sexual harassment unless I send money to a lawyer to settle (at least I think that one is a con)! As they have been caught in the spam security net thank God I never get to read them....or I might take them seriously.

However it's the face to face one's that amuse me. Last week I visited Villa Romana Del Casals which houses the most astonishing rooms full of ancient mosaics I have ever seen.

As my wife and I took the long walk from the car park to the entrance, appearing out of the glaring sunlight, a young guy steps forward with a guide book.

"Latest copy. U.N.E.S.C.O sanctioned book. €12."

It looked well produced but was heavy and I wondered if I needed to carry more crap in the car. He then blew it:

"There are no signs once inside. Without it you will not understand."

Did he seriously think a site as famous as this would have no signage?

Once inside the Roman Palazzo it had displays in every language in each room
As we got closer to the site the same guide book dropped to €8 and came with a lemon squeezer! ....and yet
I still bought it! But the point was I knew he was ripping me off but he got a point for chutzpah. He probably thought I was senile.

I have been offered diamonds on the streets of Rio - if you really think you are going to get a bargain 4 carat stone from a stranger you clearly are gullible enough to believe that Jersey Shore is not scripted - but just breathe on it. A diamond will dissipate the humidity fog in under three seconds, a fake takes twice as long.

A student at Bangkok Airport said he was collecting as many different airline boarding cards for a charity competition (the bar code on your boarding card has your passport and credit card details on it) and once in The Philippines I was offered by a very persistent 10 year old kid a pair or Ray Bans that belonged to General MacArthur's (er...that finish was not around in 1945).

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We'll always be together, Forever, 🎶 In Electric Dreams...

Why...

Do I not shed a tear for the death of the combustion engine? From 2040 with the banning of all diesel and petrol cars, the UK has scheduled it to go to the great garage in the sky. Even earlier in Norway... but they have Santa power that allows Ingrid and Lars to visit the entire globe in one night on a sleigh, so they are not worried. However under current technology this swap-over just ain't going to happen. Those boffins at the UK's National Grid already have a problem at half time in a big football match when the Brits all flick on the kettle for a cuppa. Imagine what 9 million cars all charging at the same time in will do? That's before we work out where we will find enough lithium to make all these batteries as well as work out how to transport them without blowing up. A small question here dear reader. If a lithium battery can blow up in transit, what makes it not catch fire when subsequently in use? No no no, I still give a huge bow of respect to the propellor head's who Elon Musk has corralled together at Tesla, but the knee jerk reaction from the other car makers to buzz down the same electric path is wrong. Hydrogen, the most plentiful gas in the universe must be the long term answer. Water out your exhaust pipe, fill up time same as petrol and no one has a monopoly on the stuff. In a hundred years, electric cars and Hybrids will be seen with the same affection as other backwaters of transport; the steam car, the Segway and Wankel engines.

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When customer service absolutely positively has to be destroyed overnight...

Why...

Does my courier company sometimes think I'm psychic? Not only must I know when their little websites tell me my goodies are on the van, when in reality they aren't, even if they are due to be delivered over a 13 hour time spread from 6am to 7pm, it's just a guide. I clearly would not sit pining for the delivery van all day and half the night when I really know the window during the day he will come, so can arrange my day accordingly. The company also knows I get a tingling in my head on those days the driver gets lost or fancies a quick one with that lovely lady at number 22 and joshes to say I was out anyway and could we do it all again tomorrow. My how we laugh at that one! Now, as my courier thinks I still believe in fairies, unicorns and that La Donald is not bald, I must also have faith in Customer Service.... a contradiction in terms right up there with New Classic, Civil Servant and Gourmet Pizza. Nevertheless after three days of hide and hide (nothing to seek) I give them a call. Punching in more numbers and data than on a battalion of lottery tickets I eventually get a voice that asks again for all the same information… only to be put on hold… listening to music so awful as to make me bless Kenny Gee. But hope springs eternal and just as I am about to hang up some one chirps: “I am putting you through now"… to listen to more music. The call centre based out in Ulan Bator might offer to call me back and if by some miracle they do I note the number is withheld. God forbid a customer might want to initiate contact! When I get to be king any customer service (yes you BA, Vodafone, Insurance claims departments, etc., etc.) that does not have listed names with emails or direct phone lines will be made: A)to cut the White House Lawn with nail scissors and then B)to pick up the cut blades with tweezers.

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Welcome aboard...

Why...

Do I increasingly feel like freight when I travel? A year ago I wrote a blog about my experiences on a car ferry from Spain to Italy ruminating that I was stuck on a floating 1973 disco. That was luxury. Not that I was expecting the Love Boat but I write to you now from the SS Slavetrader ploughing the waves from Palermo Sicily to Cittavechia/Rome Italy. If I listen carefully I can hear the beat of the drum as the galley slaves pull on their oars. My wife and I are in a cabin so small a mouse could not get a hard on. "Why are you not outside breathing lungfulls of Mediterranean Sea air or enjoying the amenities, you spoilt Limey," I hear you cry? Well despite being marked on the ships plan... The pool "I'm sorry senior, there is not one on this ship." The gym "I'm sorry senior, not on this ship." The Sky bar "I am sorry it is not in service this voyage." Admirals club, Imperial lounge, Gelataria, shopping arcade, cafeteria, shut shut shut! The sun deck "I'm sorry senior, there are no chairs on this ship.You are free to walk about though." However, oh joy of joys, all the slot machines are working!

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Holiday reading... nah this is not far-fetched enough

June 16, 2017
Friends Kids/Family/Relations Life Politics
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Why...

Can I not find a decent fiction for my holiday read? Their plots are so boring compared to reality. In the last 12 months true events would have been roundly rejected in Hollywood as too far-fetched. Uncle Donald's mental pirouettes with regards to Russia, Korea and the CIA, make House of Cards shenanigans seem rather tame. The TV show Veep has stopped being a comedy and is simply a reality show. Then there is Melania Trump who looks as comfortable in her role of First Lady as a Nun in a Trojan factory. I think she is very cool but a plot line suggesting a First Lady having posed in the nude would have been rejected by even Mills and Boon. It's not as if there is not Volume 2 still to play out with second generation Trump... Ivanka and Jarred are names that come from bit players of Star Wars. And Tiffany??? In a recent poll of the most popular name for strippers the name Tiffany came second. What was Trump thinking (or thinking about) when he chose it?

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What did Europe ever do for you...

May 18, 2017
Entertainment/Media/Arts Food & Drink Life Politics
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Why...

As we waive bye-bye to the EU can we not acknowledge that Europe has made some small beneficial contributions to English life? In the old days before dear old Blighty got friendly with Johnny Foreigner and joined what was then the European Economic Community, life in Britain was a tad dreary. Our European friends gave us modern bathrooms. 40 years ago English bathrooms were a place so opposed to change it would have made North Korea look like Narnia. A blindfolded Victorian would have had no trouble finding his way about. Firstly we had no mixer taps! I would run a separate hot and cold tap in a basin and wave my hands about like a magician to balance out freezing cold and burning hot. In a bath my left foot poached but my right one got chilblains. A shower cubicle was seen a waste of a linen cupboard and anyway, if I wanted a shower I could always attach what looked like a large rubber stethoscope to the bath hot and cold taps and hose myself down.....until one flew off so hot water boiled my feet and the cold froze my head till my hair crackled. A bidet was a rather quaint invention only ever found in foreign hotels. When I asked my mother what it was, she explained they were to wash your feet in or rinse a bathing suit. In my first flat my plumber had never been abroad and I asked him to fit one. He screwed it to the ceiling thinking it was a shower... I know we love our heritage but hanging onto a flushing system invented in Victorian times by Mr. Crapper (strange but true) seemed sticking to tradition in the extreme. In nearly every home in the 1970's there were loos with a chain with Pull written on the handle (as opposed to doing what)? Above a water tank frequently leaked and when activated made a noise like a concrete mixer. Four decades on the Brits still don't like electrical items in the bathroom so UK homes with hairdryers, electronic heated loos, make-up lighting or chargers for cell phones or tablets whilst having that all important post breakfast 'ablution' are rare. Certainly no radio nor TV! But dual taps only exist now in stuffy old clubs and Downton Abbey.

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I want a locker, not a human traffic jam...

May 5, 2017
Entertainment/Media/Arts Fasion Health & Beauty Life
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Why...

Am I forced to share my airspace? On the occasions when my trousers inform me it's time to diet and I need a swim or visit a Pilates studio, I try and visit the gym off peak to avoid the crowds. However even if there are only a dozen people in the gym, the clown giving out locker keys always gives them out consecutively. This means a dozen grown men whilst trying to retain a modicum of decorum, are all pirouetting on one leg trying to put on underpants on a floor area the size of a doormat...whilst there are row upon row of unused lockers spread over the rest of the changing area.

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Listen to Einstein. May I present the all in one shredder, vacuum cleaner and sprinkler system...

Why...

Do we do not listen to Uncle Albert. "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and to expect different results". Why do I think every puppy will be different? We have a new French bulldog (Clouseau). His capacity to munch his way through anything made from rubber to industrial grade titanium is remarkable. Today he managed to eat a handful of coffee beans, a mobile phone, a tax return and then chew up an entire ream of paper (500 pages). Obviously he did not consume the lot, but rather like a fox in a henhouse, managed to damage each page enough so it could no longer go in the printer, whilst actually only ingesting two sheets. He has developed a taste for the left ear of one of his elder brother pugs and my right leg is sexier than Beyoncé with a bark. He has an uncanny knack of knowing when I have just fallen asleep so his nip to a big toe wakes me up. I get mad, he looks at me with those big cow eyes.....then pees in a slipper. I have no doubt he would relish anthrax on toast and he still cannot understand why I stopped him chewing on a snail as if it was a gobstopper........ Groundhog Day. It happens every time we get a puppy. It should be no surprise....

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Rare is only good for beef...

April 21, 2017
Entertainment/Media/Arts Life Technology
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Why...

Do we collect rare things that need repairing? I suppose my wife is blessed that outside of her all our family and close friends, the only thing that floats my boat are classic cars. Expensive but a snip compared to yachts, a string of polo ponies (or mistresses) let alone a drug addiction that would trouble the resources of Pfizer. However I soft soap all this malarkey by saying that these cars have proved great investments. The truth is however if I added up all the money I have lost by selling cars too early and instead had kept them in the garage, my caviar pot would be so deep a soup ladle could not reach the bottom! A baboon could have made money in classic cars over the last decade as the market just shifted. If you had owned a car you bought in 2008 for £150,000 it could easily be worth £1.5m now without lifting a finger ...except you do have to look after it. And this is when 'rare' bites you firmly in the butt. If you own a Renoir sculpture, an 1851 Franklin stamp or even a Disney cell from Steamboat Willie you have to look after it but not repair it. Much of the upside of owning something that is rare evaporates when it is mechanical and you find the grobulator needs replacing or the elegiac couplet is worn out. Tiny bits of metal take on a value as if made from kryptonite and suddenly an engine rebuild on your rare Maserati requires a second mortgage (or third if you used the second to pay for the darn car). The sucking of teeth when I ask a builder how much a bit of point work will run me is nothing compared to the shaking of heads and look of pity were I to need a new handbrake for a 'Duesy SSJ' or even a gear knob for an Alfa Montreal. Remember that ten fold increase in the price of the car? Well the parts prices will have shot up at the same rate! A nut and bolt have to be weighed out on jewellers scales. Luckily technology, if not originality, has come riding over the hill like the 7th Cavalry. 3D Printers. Forget worrying if these machines are able to whip up an ICBM for Kim Jung Un or a fancy set of shoe lifts for the small but perfectly formed President Putin; what really matters is in a few moments this machine can make a window winder for a 58 Corvette! Yup suddenly the cost of making a spare part at last is on nodding terms to the price it sells for.

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Resistance is futile... I will dress like a pimp from a blaxploitation movie

Why...

Do certain pastimes creep up on me as I get older? Golf is a great example. Forty years ago the whole clubby, cliquey, smug aroma of joining a club and spending eons smacking a little white ball around manicured lawns represented everything the young urchin in me hated. I refused ever to pick up a golf club, wanting the world to know I was kicking against the pricks in every sense of the word. I would rather have entered Richard Nixon than a golf club. Then a few years ago a virus struck down many of my friends who suddenly started not only playing the game but wearing tartan V neck sweaters and trousers, accompanied by white flat caps and checkered leather shoes that Cab Calloway would have been proud of. They even started drinking gin. Fortunately around that time I met my beloved wife. In an earlier life she had dated a professional golfer and it had put her off the game for life. I was safe. However a dear friend and his wife came to visit recently and both are avid golfers. As I listened to them ramble on about such arcane terms such as nibblets, bogies and my particular favourite an Adolf Hitler; (two shots in a bunker), I suddenly said: "That sounds great." Time stood still. You can't unring that bell. My wife instead of getting up and looking for a rolling pin to shuffle my teeth added: "There is only one course here in Malta!"

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Going going gone...(money and common sense)

April 2, 2017
Entertainment/Media/Arts Finance/Law Life
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Why...

Do my brains turn to mush at auctions? No matter how hard I try, if my wife and I go to an auction, I manage to find something that I cannot possibly live without. The fact I never knew there were such things as Chinese fire alarm sticks, Japanese tangerine bowls, 1850 suppository machines, or opium smokers headrests is irrelevant. Once discovered, life is not worth living without them. Once I have made that leap, I am free-falling into the money pit that is bidding. Now not only is my life incomplete without Winston Churchill's dentures or silver sugar tongs in the shape of a wishbone, but no one else can have it! Even if I promise my wife a limit at auction, seeing someone else outbidding me is as provocative as a Bernie Saunders supporter at a Trump rally. So I end up triumphant paying too much for something that in the cold light of day is as useful as a chocolate teapot (let me know if any readers have one for sale).

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Come back Muzak....all is forgiven

March 18, 2017
Entertainment/Media/Arts Life Technology
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Why...

Does background music sometimes morph into foreground noise? There was a time when stuck in a lift and hearing an instrumental version of the uber soppy song 'Feelings' had the same effect on me as fingernails on a blackboard. I even checked out of a hotel in Grand Canary as it insisted on piping out to the swimming pool, Beatles hits played on a flute. Luxury. I had no idea how blessed I was. At least it was bland. I had breakfast in New York recently where I was subjected to everything from Acid Techno to Xylophone Rap Music. Yesterday I was wandering round a local Computer store accompanied by Death Metal so loud my teeth rattled. Clearly to the Goths who were working the tills that day this racket was aural nectar but not when I am trying to remember which type of connector my wife has on her iPad. When I am subjected to a music genre that slaps me in the face and actually pisses me off, is that really the effect the store owners want to foster? Music is for the customer, not the staff.

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Wake up! It's nearly the centenary of the real invention of Sex Drugs and Rock'n' Roll

Why...

Does the definition of fun change from one generation to another? In the dying days of hedonism that was Rome, if you got an invite to a decent party you brought a couple of slave toy boys or girls for amusement and a feather. The feather tickling the back of your throat in the Vomitorium chamber quickly emptied your stomach after you had had your fill of poached larks tongues or sautéed bats' ears. It was a form of bulimia in a toga, as chucking up allowed you to go right back to fornicating, eating and drinking without being anti-social and taking time out to digest! Your party/orgy could go on for days! I am certain my grandmother's generation of the 1920's can lay claim to the first truly hedonistic society since Roman times. Cocaine and morphine were easily obtainable and even legal in many countries. Sex had reared its head as a result of the insanity of the First World War where chance or survival was slim and you seized the moment. People had got back into the habit of sex for sex' sake. Society was beginning to enjoy some degree of meritocracy as the generation of privilege and patronage lay decimated on Flanders field. There was public transport in the form of taxis, buses and trains so people at last could unhook the tether that kept them home. Speakeasies were the template for every nightclub and disco that has come since. Booze flowed freely (even in prohibition United States), the gramophone or radio provided music on tap and along with the telephone ushered in the era of spontaneous parties. Even elementary forms of contraceptives were available. (You could hear the bleat of relief from the sheep in Wales). To top it all off you'd go to the movies for a grope and fumble along with a popcorn and soda. Shamefully the massive contribution from the black American community in the form of Jazz (the first Rock'n'Rolll) was not enough to break down all racial barriers but Satchmo, Duke Ellington, Cab Calloway, and Ella Fitzgerald certainly dented them. There were drawbacks. Cigarette smoking became de rigour and the clap could still kill you. It's interesting to note that Al Capone went to jail in 1931 at only age 32. He was actually released from Alcatraz in 1939 due to mounting insanity from syphilis. He didn't actually die until 1947 and spent 8 years as a free man in Palm Beach. Nevertheless the roaring twenties whooped the inhibitions of 1500 years into the dustbin of history. They had fun.

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I'm a monkey...with hooves. My wife however is a dragon with a scorpion’s sting

Why...

Do we think we can divide the characteristics of the entire population into 12? I have at least 12 alter egos of my own, continuously morphing Mr. Men-like with special emphasis on Mr. Greedy, Mr. Grumpy, Mr. Arrogant, Mr. Silly, Mr. Self Delusional and Mr. Hangover. My wife no doubt thinks I'm Mr. Right and I know she is Mrs. Always Right. One thing people are not, however, is consistent.... unless it's being gullible. We all glance at the Horoscopes in newspapers (70 million a day in the USA). Daily horoscopes were a relatively late invention starting in the UK in 1930 and at the time widely criticised by 'true' astrologers as being inaccurate! Oh come on! Many columnists aren't even astrologers and are given a book by their Editor and told to get writing 12 columns a day. And have you ever noticed that no astrologer seems to go on holiday.... ever! Regular as clockwork 365 days a year the newspaper stargazer advises me (Sagittarius) that on one day I should "go with the flow" and then the next "seize the opportunity". My wife is warned because she is a Scorpio, she is possessive. I just tell her not to worry. The Marquis de Sade, Hilary Clinton and Marie Antoinette were all Scorpio.

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I'm an individual... so let's paint it black

February 12, 2017
Fasion Health & Beauty Life Travel/Nature
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Why...

Is the color black thought of as chic when it is the default choice for people with no imagination? You can stand out as much as you like you like when you travel. The diva in a silk shirt, sunglasses and scarves, a wannabe rap star with Gucci and Dolce & Gabbana labels or simply Mr.& Mrs. Retired from Boston, she in a fetching twin set and pearls and he in a tweed suit. But nearly everyone has a black suitcase. Why? The one time you do want something to stick out, is on the conveyor belt of endless luggage spat out at baggage claim. Maybe airlines could change the colors of the check-in baggage labels to match blocks of seat rows? I know some people put a ribbon on the handle or a big sticky Smiley Face on the side, but a guy parading through customs with that is screaming to the officials: "I am a drug dealer. Stop me and feel free to search every bodily cavity..." Jet lagged and grabbing a black bag I am amazed I have never returned to my hotel to open a suitcase full of lingerie or kids school clothing (OK once but that was my suitcase....weird girlfriend) or much worse a nun returned to her convent with my suitcase. Try and explain that content to Mother Superior! However the fault really is with the suitcase manufacturers. It's either boring black, ‘bloodshot-eye’ red, ‘arrest-me’ fuchsia, ‘suffocate’ blue or a yellow so loud you can hear it scream as it's unloaded from the plane. Samsonite designers must think subtle is what you become with yoga. Checks might be nice or patterns, even different colored top and bottom. Instead they offer a color palette from a child's paint by numbers book. And while I am talking suitcases, consistency on zip start and finish as well as direction would be nice. Have you ever been able to open every layer or pocket on a suitcase with one fluid movement per zip? Never. How about different colored zips for different pockets on the case.....and all either zip clockwise or counterclockwise?

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I have seen the future…my dog.

Why...

Can my dog Cato teach me about old age, certainly better than most people? My oldest dog is now 13½ (94 in dog years) and is showing traits and remarkable similarities to an older grumpier me. We both need to go for a pee in the middle of the night, are not fans of rap music, enjoy a long crap, doze in front of the TV and snore at night with intermittent gas leaks. We prefer our food cut into smaller portions, become remarkably deaf when nagged by my wife. However hearing is perfect if Cato hears a tin of Kanga Chunks being opened from 100 metres and a a faint cat’s meow on a TV show. For me it’s the pop of a cork out of a bottle or someone opening a packet of Malteasers. With this advanced age you would hope he has gained knowledge from experience, as I hope at least I have. However pugs have a brain the size of a satsuma so he still believes the vacuum cleaner is Satan’s willy and to be savagely bitten; the ping made by the Apple TV remote is The Archangel’s call for him to bark. One of our greatest pleasures is to go for a walk….or rather I and his much younger brother Notty go for a walk whilst he sits imperiously in his dog pram. Does this mean I am also heading for a 'bath chair' in my dotage? Now before you all blink in disbelief at such a thing go look on Google as to how many different dog pram manufacturers there are let alone models. Believe me the guy who came out with the first one is sitting on a beach somewhere clutching a drink with an umbrella in it, a toy boy or toy girl at his or her side and the day’s biggest problem is whether to have cracked crab or lobster for lunch. What we both are especially fond of is going for a drive and spending the week-end at some country hotel. However not all welcome pooches. There needs to be a Michelin Guide for pet friendly hotels and inns. “OK Mark let me have a look... heated dog basket, choice of bottled waters to drink from, bones in the mini bar and a rub down in the health spa by a French Poodle. Book it.”

..and another thing (continue to read this post)

I'm sorry. There will be wailing and gnashing of teeth.

January 13, 2017
Entertainment/Media/Arts Life Technology
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Why...

Are we so surprised that people die. It's the one reliable thing all humans do. In 2016 some people believe that the Grim Reaper cruelly took his scythe and cut down a larger than normal number of celebrities. Of course it's nonsense. It's a statistical certainty that every year more and more famous people die as fame itself exploded in the fifties and sixties by quintupling the number of celebs with the advent of TV and pop stars. Sadly some are just getting old or a lifetime's effect of drugs and booze takes its toll. (OK I can't explain Keith Richards. Does he actually cast a shadow? Has anyone seen him out in sunlight?) Not only has the internet given us professional offendees (http://www.andanotherthing.com/so-who-made-you-a-professional-offendee/#andanotherthing) but now we have remote mourners. Allegedly Clint Eastwood said the strangest by product of being famous for a long time is people believe, as you have been part of their life, they somehow are a part of yours. This must explain the tsunami of tears that drown out every other aspect of news when someone famous shuffles off the mortal coil. People openly howl with grief, lay out flowers and even take a day off work when pop star Bent Axl, sixties glamour puss Lavinia Nightly or TV reality star Booty Licious pegs it but care not a hoot for a hobo who died in the street. Please don't tell me one life is worth the same as another. In the mourning stakes column inches in the tabloids is directly related to decibel level of global wailing.

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Cornflakes, the world’s best glue…

Why...

Does the holiday season always seem to involve glue? I suppose presents littered about the floor like plastic landmines, mixed with your best china on the table, kids so hopped up on sugar they could give Usain Bolt trouble at the 100 metres and unstable guests who have spent six hours gargling your booze, means that people inevitably fall over and things get broken. Yet despite claims that new superglues can attach a hippo to a space rocket on lift off, in my experience no glue ever works. In fact the only thing glue is brilliantly good at, is unsticking my temper.

..and another thing (continue to read this post)

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All posts in category: Life

Upselling to the downtrodden

Why...

Double does not mean two of one

Why...

This ain't my first rodeo

Why...

We'll always be together, Forever, 🎶 In Electric Dreams...

Why...

When customer service absolutely positively has to be destroyed overnight...

Why...

Welcome aboard...

Why...

Holiday reading... nah this is not far-fetched enough

Why...

What did Europe ever do for you...

Why...

I want a locker, not a human traffic jam...

Why...

Listen to Einstein. May I present the all in one shredder, vacuum cleaner and sprinkler system...

Why...

Rare is only good for beef...

Why...

Resistance is futile... I will dress like a pimp from a blaxploitation movie

Why...

Going going gone...(money and common sense)

Why...

Come back Muzak....all is forgiven

Why...

Wake up! It's nearly the centenary of the real invention of Sex Drugs and Rock'n' Roll

Why...

I'm a monkey...with hooves. My wife however is a dragon with a scorpion’s sting

Why...

I'm an individual... so let's paint it black

Why...

I have seen the future…my dog.

Why...

I'm sorry. There will be wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Why...

Cornflakes, the world’s best glue…

Why...