Two-Way

Today I thought I'd share this photo that we snapped in Thornbury.


Have you spotted the problem? Answers on a postcard, please!

The Secret Of My Handsomeness

It is no secret that I am very, very handsome.

What is a secret, however, is why, exactly, I am so handsome.

Is it genetic handsomeness? Have I inherited my handsomeness from my parents?

Obviously not, because neither of my brothers are even nearly as handsome as me. In fact, by comparison, they have a very ordinary level of handsomeness. (I'm being kind... At least one of them is really quite ugly.)

Is it because of Photoshop? Photoshop is very clever and can do many things, but sadly, making a person as handsome as me is not one of those things. I did a test on some photographs of Brad Pitt, Tom Cruise and George Clooney, but I simply couldn't make them as handsome as me.


See? This handsometer measures two different types of handsomeness, and those other guys don't even come close to my top notch handsomeness.

Could it be clever lighting that makes me so handsome? No. I'm handsome in the dark too. Doubly so, Dr K tells me. Look, here's a picture of me that illustrates this perfectly:


I really am very handsome in the dark, aren't I?

I'll wait a moment before I continue while the ladies finish swooning.

Finished?

Excellent. I shall continue.

No, the reason I am so very handsome is quite simple. It's my beard. My beard makes me handsome.


I mean, I'm quite handsome without it, but the beard really does an excellent job of making me extra handsome.

And recently, I have been getting even handsomer.

'How?' I hear you ask. 'How can you get even more handsome?

I could tell you, but I think the following picture illustrates it perfectly:


That's right. I have more beard. I don't want you to think of it as a beard, though. I want you to think of it as More Handsomeness. Because that's what it is. Somewhat patchy handsomeness, I'll grant you. In places, it's quite sparse handsomeness, and some parts of my face are more handsome than others, but it is, nonetheless, plenty of handsomeness.

Good night.

A Limerick Instead Of A Post

There was a blogger called Daz,
Whose post lacked a certain pizzazz.
It was nearly time for bed,
So he wrote a limerick instead,
But he couldn't think of a last line.

Shit.

Boxes

Every week, Dr K receives a box. It's made of cardboard and it's about he size of a video cassette case.

I've been getting a bit of box envy recently, so this week, I ordered one of my own.


Here they are. They're very similar, I think you'll agree.

Dr K's box has a discreet and tasteful logo in the bottom corner and not a lot else. Not vey exciting.

Mine, on the other hand has 'Om Nom Nom Nom' emblazoned on the leading edge. Based on that alone, it's clear that my box is going to be so much better than Dr K's!

Let's open them up.


Cor. That's pretty exciting. Dr K has a lovely pair of coconuts on display when you lift up her top.

My box, isn't nearly as pretty inside.

But let's not get hung up on that. Take a look at the contents of Dr K's box:


How peculiar.

It seems that Dr K's box is full of twigs and birdseed and floor sweepings. Well, they look positively... delicious.

Oh well. I suppose one has to be disappointed every now and again, so that you can appreciate the more awesome things in life!

You know, like the contents of my box!


Wow. It's only a brilliant selection of weird foreign sweets!

I'd like to end with a little maths lesson:

my box > dr k's box

Yeah.

Homeopathy

Homeopathy is brilliant, despite what all those silly closed-minded, Big-Pharma-loving, baby-eating, unthinking toadies say.

I think that people just don't understand the benefits provided by alternative remedies and Mother Earth.

For example, my homeopathic zebra warding treatment, which is achieved by having a very reputable specialist place the essence of one small natural, aerobically fermented, allium cepa bulb as close to my root chakra point as possible, has been very, very effective.

I have not been killed by a zebra. Nor have I developed zebra-like stripes on my skin. Ever. You can't argue with results!

I started seeing an aural manipulation technician a while back and I can honestly say that my aura has never been better. My qualified aural manipulator tells me that it's a lovely calm blue, which is much better than red. And she would know because she has a Certificate of Attainment from the Aural School of Natural Healing which is on the Internet!

Many alternative remedies use magic to cure ailments, which has repeatedly been proven in non-clinical, unscientific studies by at least one unqualified, self certified expert to be very, very effective at separating patients from the cause of their ailment.

The most common cause of ailments, in case you're wondering, is money. Usually in multiples of £29.99. By divesting you of the cause of your ailments, your karmic balance is restored, your chakras are stabilised and, most importantly, your con-ma... er... holistic consultant gets paid!

An Appeal

I'd like to draw your attention to a terrible situation.

Innocents from far off lands are being forcibly taken from their homes, from their families.

They are crammed into shipping containers or lorries in their hundreds, with no space to move or breathe. And then they are transported, against their will into enforced bondage, right here in England!

Once here, they are displayed like wares in a supermarket and then sold, like mere possessions.

They are forced to submit to horrible, cramped conditions - often made to live in cupboards or other dark spaces.

And when their new masters decide that their time has come, they are tortured beyond endurance before being murdered.

Their bodies are cast away like rubbish into mass graves and buried forever.

This atrocity should be stopped once and for all. It simply should not be allowed to endure!

On the other hand, tea is bloody lovely. I ain't giving it up for anyone!

1216, by the way.

The Relative Horribleness Of Foreign Sweets #6: Germany (or possibly Austria)

Today I have sampled a German sweet. Which might be Austrian. But I am assured that it was both made and purchased in Germany, even though it has Mozart on it.


As you can see, it is a very attractively wrapped Mozartkugel. Shiny foil wrapping just can't be beat!


Inside was something that looked like a chocolate doorknob. I suspect that doorknobs made of chocolate would be a little impractical. For one thing, I would keep getting stuck in rooms on account of eating all the doorknobs.


Moving onto the sweet interior:



Inside the chocolate doorknob was some delicious marzipan.. And some tasty brown stuff that reminded me of Nutella. This sweet is awesome! I love this sweet.


As a special bonus, when the shiny foil wrapper is flattened out it makes an attractive miniature wall-hanging, as presented here by the lovely Dr K:


This sweet has it all and is easily is the best I've tried since starting this whole foreign sweet malarkey. It has earned itself a well deserved FIVE OUT OF FIVE!

Here's an update to the sweet map of the world:


In related news, I found a website that will send me a whole bunch of foreign sweets. Woohoo!

Nine Things I Like

1. Tea
2. Curry
3. Dr K
4. Cottage Pie
5. Rochester
6. The Cinema
7. Batman
8. Charts
9. My iPad!

Nine Things I Don't Like

1. Finding out that the milk on my cereal's gone off one mouthful too late!

2. Progress bars that lie.

3. Chuggers. I thought begging was illegal. Maybe someone should tell them that. Whilst punching them in their condescending, self righteous, little hippie faces.

4. Flies. especially especially on my feet!

5. Filler posts on blogs that are supposed to be funny.

6. People that stand right behind you while they're waiting for you to finish at the urinal. Man, do I make them wait.

7. 'Sparkling' water. Firstly, the word you're looking for is 'fizzy', you pretentious dickhole. Secondly, water isn't fizzy. That's just wrong. WRONG! (Although a small part of me wants to know what would happen to the goldfish if I filled their tank with fizzy water...)

8. Prejudiced, bigoted people. They're just wankers!

9. Foreigners. Oh, wait...

Shopping: An Abuse Of Human Rights Or Just A Plain Old War Crime?

Recently, I went to the lovely city of Bath with Dr K*.

Unfortunately, we had forgotten that it was sales season. Bath was packed with sale-fevered females hauling their long suffering, shopping bag laden male companions along behind them. Honestly, why do so many women insist on dragging their men out on shopping trips when they know they hate it!

After witnessing defeated and despairing men in their hundreds traipsing around behind their wives, being berated for not sharing in the retail enthusiasm, I saw one particularly horrific example of ritual humiliation of a man by his wife involving a pair of furry slippers and I began to wonder if there was a law against subjecting them to such treatment!

It turns out there is. In fact there's a couple:

Article 3 of the European Convention on Human Rights states that:

"No one shall be subjected to torture or to inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment."

Being forced to go shopping is the very definition of inhuman and degrading treatment.

In fact if one were to accept that there was, indeed a battle of the sexes, then it becomes obvious that men are being effectively held as prisoners of war in the shops by their female captors and subjecting them to this torture is, in fact, a war crime under the Geneva Convention:

"Persons ... shall in all circumstances be treated humanely, without any adverse distinction founded on race, colour, religion or faith, sex, birth or wealth..." and "...the following acts are and shall remain prohibited at any time... cruel treatment and torture... outrages upon personal dignity, in particular humiliating and degrading treatment;"

So basically, if your woman drags you out shopping, you should suggest going to the shopping centre at Nuremberg, where justice can be meted out.


( * To clarify - we were not there to go shopping. Dr K has considerably less tolerance for shopping than the average female. )

Picture: I was only following orders.