Dog Of The Hare

It was 5 O’Clock on this misty morning. Churros & Chinchón, no not the names of the dogs, but an extruded donut sausage shaped thing and a strong aniseed liqueur for breakfast. These hounds are waiting to clear the fields of Hares for farmers who grow vegetables. Sorry my fellow vegetibalists but there it is. Man’s best friend and all that. 

PS: I’m not a vegetarian


Censorship Gone Mad

I don’t know what this is all about but I thought you ought to have a look at it anyway. Not sure why he has a small ballbearing for a head but he more than makes up for it with his variably sized other parts. Actually I think he looks a bit annoyed



With raging pandemititus swamping the news headlines it’s easy to lose sight of all the other going’s-on in the world. A sense of proportion is required to help us take stock of what is truly important during this fearful time. With this in mind perhaps we should all stop for a moment this afternoon, take a long deep breath beneath our quivering steamy masks and consider the ramifications of these two criminally under-reported stories.

I see that the photographer has had a nibble out of this, sadly typical of the corrupt Media.

Still Using The Chicken To Measure It? Try This Instead

I was idling my life away looking at stuff on the World Wide Wasteland when I came across some tiny lambs being used to give a sense of the proportionate size of some patterned fabric up for sale (Pictures Below). Despite there being a wooden ruler as a guide I can’t work out the size of these little fleece balls, and they’re not even included in the purchase. I need answers, but I’m now too ashamed to ask. I’m also not really sure if I care about them anymore. Then suddenly I remembered a Frank Zappa film that makes more, or even less sense of my dilemma, see this micro clip. 









I understand that retired Colonel, dead since 1980, Saunders, has been working again. Most recently with Walkers Snack Foods (Founded 1948) to produce a KFC (Founded 1952) flavoured crisp, or more likely cazillions of artery clogging sodium and fat, heart attack packs. So what you say?

Well this product below confuses me. Why would I want my house to smell like a grease fried rat? If I worked at KFC I wouldn’t want to come home to this afterwards, then again it might make being at work seem more like being at home, like having friends around for dinner sitting around the stinking fireside. The thing about the log, if you like KFC, is that when you light your fire you’re likely to respond by salivating like a Pavlovian Dog and have to reach for your mobile to order some buckets of chicken body parts, perhaps it is truly ingenious.  

I’d prefer a fire-log that smells of cigarette smoke accented by stale beer carpet ullage with faint overtones of bleach wafting on a background note of man-pee: Ye Olde Old Public House Fire Log … click ssshhhzz (Sound of Can ringpull)

Just flush it away, cut out the middle man.

Mice & Menus

Whilst having a spot of light lunch yesterday I couldn’t help but admire this questionable choice of photo for a place that serves food. The rodents pictured are from the Tio Pepe Sherry bodega which has been serving generations of mice a glass a day for over a century, the kind workers of Gonzales Byass have even provided their furtive freinds with a little access ladder. I was told by the waiter that the practice has now been stopped due to EU health regulations: How many units are Mice allowed? I asked. 

Britain’s rats are awaiting the announcement of a No Deal Brexit, then the Tennent’s Super swilling drunken bastards will go on the rampage bringing back the good’olde worlde Black Death, probably.




Are You Wrestling With Things?

 Ok, Let’s Wrestle … Whoa … With What?




Maybe A Mic Fits In This Soprano’s Right Hand? 


I Dare You To Body Shame Me!



Elon Musk SpaceXXX


You Can Stop That Right Now



I Can’t See No Wood


Buddy The Boots Are Stayin’ On

Ain’t No Room For More Wood