It goes without saying

Like most sayings, not to be taken literally... but, I'd happily kill any of those sodding pigeons that crap on my balcony! Going from one saying to another can sort of follow a tenuous train of thought : Never put off till tomorrow what you can do today. But if tomorrow never comes how will you ever enjoy the fruits of your labours? So just don't do anything, have a rest... but there's no rest for the wicked, they're never idle. Then again, the devil makes work for idle hands which in its self may be a small crumb of comfort for the 2 million or more unemployed, here's someone who can offer you a job, which would him the world's largest employer. (just ahead of Starbucks!)

Who put the "dic" in dictator?

As much as America would like to get rid of Gadaffi it will never match the effort the C.I.A put into getting rid of Castro. Known as 638 ways to kill Castro, the Warner Brothers department of the C.I.A (does anyone know what the "I" stands for?) went to Wile E Coyote lengths to get their man including : leaping out at him on a beech holding an exploding conch shell - shoot him with a machine gun hidden in a TV camera - spread rumours that the 2nd coming of Christ was imminent and Castro was the Anti-Christ - And Yes, they even considered an exploding cigar!!

Does the pope shit in the woods?

I've always annoyed people with these sarcastic responses. My top ten in ascending order : Do fish swim? Do chickens have lips? (this would be actually be a no!) Is a duck's ass watertight? Do one legged ducks swim in a circle? Do sharks crap in the sea? Do camels screw in the desert? Does a bear shit in the woods? Does Pinocchio have wooden balls? Is the pope a catholic? and my favourite : Does Dolly Parton sleep on her back?

Bomb-titi, bomb-titi, bomb

It's not your everyday threat when explosive devises are sent to a team's manager but Celtic's boss has found himself slightly unpopular with, we have to assume, Rangers fans. Time and again I hear something on the news straight out of a Roadrunner cartoon. (maybe it's just me!) I'd love to think that the Rangers boss would paint a tunnel entrance on a wall so that the Celtic team bus would drive into it... or following tradition, drive straight through it. Maybe Celtic could respond with a few carefully placed garden rakes around the penalty area so as to catch a few Rangers players. I've got the game on in the background now but it's just been 34 minutes of kicking each other. Same old same old!!

Who dropped the cup

All over the TV, newspapers and internet is the incident during Real Madrid's open top bus parade after wing the Copa del Rey. Sergio Ramos somehow dropped the trophy which was then run over by a coach driver who clearly supported Barca. Open top buses are an accident waiting to happen. Why do you think the Pope uses an enclosed vehicle. Amazingly the England cricket team, after winning the ashes the time before last, paraded on one and although every player was clearly pissed as a fart, remained on board. They continued to wave and celebrate oblivious to what they were celebrating or to who they were waving. The Madrid players were way too sober for such a celebration.

Hot cross bunny

Easter time is traditionally some sort of vague religious festival, can't quite see the connection between The Life Of Brian and chocolate eggs, but there you go! News yesterday reported that over 80,000 people and on disability benefit due to drug or alcohol addiction or because they're fat bastards. If anyone fancies being signed off work (nice weather at the moment) then dive into those chocolate eggs. Even better when the shops reduce them on Monday. The pounds will soon pile on and you can look forward to a lifetime of Jeremy Kyle shows, cash in the attic and the Vanessa show without having to confirm that you are actually looking for work. (nothing upsets fat bastards more than having to lie about looking for work.)

Are we there yet?

Today is the London marathon - one definition of a marathon is; a long and arduous undertaking, which describes perfectly what it's like to watch one of these things... which I don't. It's not the only marathon this month. The Boston marathon is run tomorrow. One way to get over the Monday work blues! It's also the oldest, being first run in 1897 before running was done for fun. Back then you only ran to get away from the muggers. Women had to wait until 1972 before being allowed to run in the event. Prior to that women had to wear a disguise... except women athletes from the Eastern Block countries who usually passed for men anyway. Hats off to Rosie Ruiz who won the 1980 running after covering most of the 26 miles plus by subway train! And it still took a week before they disqualified her!

Fluffy, cloudy, sheepy thoughts!

I love clouds, me. It would appear that I'm not alone. The cloud appreciation society, which boasts over 8,000 members, love them too. The interweby is chock full of photos resembling all manner of things : dragons, pasta shapes, turtles, 6 legged pigs and even the "cloudship" enterprise. As I look out of my window I can see something that I can safely say reminds me of my pants... grey, horrible looking and about to get very wet! It is England, after all.

Sketchbook of dread

The aftermath of Saturday's National brought home the sad reality of national hunt horse racing when millions of television viewers around the world saw the prone bodies of two horses so tragically killed during the race... looking on the bright side, neither of them were my selection. Almost AS tragic though was that Skippers Brig trailed in a sorry 9th. There were times on the second circuit when I could have ran faster. Still, there's always next year... and again, it was very sad to lose two horses... I forget their names. Dobin and Hi Ho Silver, or summat!!

Aye, aye, Skipper!

It's Grand National day! My selection as depicted on the left is Skippers Brig. Might I just point that I picked the winner last year. Today's Sun lists 10 of the greatest races including Aldaniti in 1981. Jockey Bob Champion was diagnosed with testicular cancer but showed real balls to overcome this life threatening condition. The horse himself had to overcome a career ending injury when he broke down. In layman's terms I think this means they had to replace a few parts and stick a new set of Duracel batteries up his arse. The only National to match this level of emotion was last year. (when I picked the winner might I remind you!!) Jockey Tony McCoy suffered a nasty paper cut the night before the race and his mount, Don't Push It was accidentally driven to a glue factory on the morning of the race!! Tension indeed.