Not suitable for minors...miners

All the papers have carried the story out of Chile of the 33 miners trapped over 2,000 feet underground... but any rescue wont be until after Christmas! Come on. I grew up watching Thunderbirds and all that's needed is Thunderbird 2 and that mole thingy. Weekend, tops. Job done!!. However, if Thunderbirds isn't real and is just a TV show, we've got, at last count, 40 or 50 gardening shows on TV. Send all that lot to Chile. They love a spot of digging (and that Tony Robinson bloke off Time Team) let them have a go!!
Then again, maybe it's just Chile's version of Big Brother and the eviction element hasn't been thought through properly!

Draw me!!

Some bloke at work, who I'll call Ben (not to hide his identity but because it's his name!) keeps asking me to draw him. I don't usually do requests, (unless it includes a donkey, handcuffs and a jar of French mustard) but as he is the originator of the title for this blog, then okay. For it is Ben who asks of me, "three fingers?" If there is anyone else at work who can equal the dizzy heights my boredom reaches it's him. I think that if either of us spotted a length of rope we'd fight over it!!
And one last word about his shirt/tie combinations. It's like Goodfellas at a gay pride parade!!

Haven't got a cluedo

On this day in 2008 Hambro decided a few (unnecessary?) changes were needed to jazz up their classic Cluedo game. As kids we'd all think that our toys came to life if we wern't there but if Cluedo came to life it would be a bloodbath!! Everyone shot, stabbed, strangled or bludgeoned to death and there'd be no police or detectives to stop the carnage. (no one has a toy detective, do they? "Daddy. Can I have a poseable Poirot for Christmas?") If the plot for Toy Story 4 involves a murder mystery weekend, you read it here first. I'm watching you, Mr Lasseter.

Suits you

Now that those pesky human rights do-gooders have made Manchester police ban those "degrading" boiler suits worn by suspects why stop there? How about an identity parade where the identities are kept secret. Maybe the old dear who's just been mugged for her pension can stand behind a screen, like in Blind Date, and ask, "If you were to mug an old lady what would you hit her on the back of the head with? That's for contestant number 4."
Typical response : "I'd much rather take you on a romantic boat trip on the Manchester canal entranced by the clicking sound of your false teeth as you suck on a Werthers original. The Evening would end with hours of unbridled animal passion."
old lady : "Wrap him up. I'll have him!"
Are you reading this E-Harmony?

Crying over spilt milk

Most newspapers carried the story today of supermarkets selling milk from cloned cows. From a comic book/super hero point of view this is just the sort of thing that might lead to the imergence of super villains. People who were mearly mild mannered traffic attendants or call centre staff by day drink this strange milk and develop some sort of evil alter-ego and then find they have a keen sense of smell or something... or maybe it'll just turn your piss green and your balls will shrivel up!!

I can negotiate, me

It's been a week or so since the Raoul Moat standoff (watch out for Living TV's, "What Raoul did next") Something that had me slapping my forehead and muttering, D'oh! was Gazza turning up with some lager and food, obviously getting mixed up with the barbecue he'd been invited to the next day. Perhaps I'm being a tad too hard him. Maybe, just maybe, this is the way to deal with tense situations. I'd like to see him flown out to deal with the middle east problem. He'd be there armed with a meat pie, a bag of nuts and a six-pack of brown ale ready for when anything kicks off. Obviously if he was dealing with a muslim Gazza would have to leave the brown ale on the back seat, but providing the meat pie was halal he'd be good to go!

World cup predictions

A big story at this World Cup has been about the predictive powers of a certain Paul the Octopus. Paul, who accurately predicted all of Germany's results, is not the only animal with a special talent in the prediction department. Edwardo the elephant (a toothless old Indian type) was given two team photos to choose from before each of England's games and chose to crap on the England photo each time. Although in hindsight this wasn't showing any actual predictive powers, just Edwardo's realisation, along with the rest of the country's...that England were shite!!