Want to buy a "Penis Enlargement Enlarger Extender" but don't know if it will really work? Why not try this one? You don't just have to take the beardy white coat guy's word for it, or even just the geniune quotes from the genuine English buyers - because you can ask all the previous buyers too: http://feedback.ebay.co.uk/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewFeedback&userid=qualitygoods_de

One of the previous buyers, fabshortstuff, obviously didn't rate it that highly because a month later he bought one of these and sold two pairs of sexy short-shorts, possibly because he wasn't packing enough to fill them out.

I heart ebay. The next feature I want in "my ebay" is to be able to play a version of the "six degrees of Kevin Bacon" game to find out how many ebay steps I am from someone who bought a penis enlargermatron. With my history of selling dodgy Bon Jovi cds on there, I'm guessing it would be less than three.

A quote from Matt Stone: "I read this news report recently that, when they were storming Fallujah, some of the Cyclops operations who play music from their tanks to freak everyone out actually played "America, Fuck Yeah!" That completed my year. The joke was complete."

Beautiful.

i've just posted the first photo ever of my genitalia on the internet

but i'm not telling you where.

mwuahahaha

I heard someone from the Conservative party on the radio this morning talking about their policies. After I got over the shock news that they had actually some and weren't just photocopying Labour/UKIP/BNP's, I was delighted to hear that they have a new policy on prison-overcrowding. They're going to solve the problem by building more prisons cells.

Yes. That will solve the problem. Definitely. Uh huh.

There is no point trying to tackle the inequalities and problems in society that cause people to turn to crime because

1. that would take longer than any 4-year government term and
2. well, it's a bit tricky isn't it? and it might piss off Middle England if they have to pay £20 more tax each year to raise the standard of living for the 3.6million children living in poverty (particularly the one million of those living in 'severe poverty') in the UK.

Imprisoning people after they've been found guilty doesn't take away the crime or the victim of the crime but I guess all those new cells will provide nice lucrative building contracts to certain companies who probably donate to the Conservative party. And isn't that what politics is really all about?

Between Batman at Buckingham Palace and pro-hunt protestors breaking into parliament this week, I'm starting to get a little worried. Not for the safety of our sovereign or glorious leaders but because these assorted right wing causes have started to realise something: public protests get more headlines, therefore makes more impact on our media obsessed society, than bribing a couple of MPs to mutter incoherently about their token issue of the week in the House of Commons.

It worries me that they're taking to the street/palace because this is our space. And them entering our territory has not automatically allowed us to enter theirs: we don't have the money for sly backhanders and party donations, we don't have the backing of big business and big media business to do our bidding, and, critically, with a few rare exceptions, we don't have their unity.

Also, the police/security services have been criticised for being "heavy handed" and bumbling - which will be read by the right-wing press as an attack on freedom and individuality, and the failure of Blair to maintain order. In reaction to this, the police will over-compensate and become more right-wing in tendencies/reactions: they will show they're just as "heavy-handed" with lefties at the next anti-exploitation demonstration (whatever it might be). Someone (else) will get killed by them. Murder will be the only way they can prove their objectivity.

As usual, the right want it all and will take it from us, just because they can.

I don't feel the need to go to low impact stretching classes like yoga any more because I'm now flexible enough after putting my foot in my mouth on a regular basis. Beating myself up about everything (particularly foot-in-mouth things) is also really goood aerobic exercise for my general cardio-vascular fitness. Yes, you read it here first, low self-esteem is the new path to total body fitness. Sign up today!

In order to communicate with the more artistic and creative staff in our wonderful institution, we have decided to develop interpretative dance sequences to convey various technical issues:

"You're having problems viewing a file?"
(we dance around the other person pointing and bobbing about, then gesture our eyes while running backwards and forwards from the person)

"It's a HTML file? How did you make it?"
(with questioning looks on our faces, we make the HTML movement [spread open arms symbolising how liberating it can be when done well but then pulling our arms to our faces in horror about how awful it can be when done badly])

"Word? You used Microsoft Word?"
(throwing our arms back in horror then making the MS Word movement [crying, pain, fear])

"You want me to fix it?"
(starting with our fingers on our foreheads, we throw them out in front of us then use our outstretched hands to strangle the enquirer, then do jazz hands over the collapsed corpse)

We're trying to get some money off the Arts Council for the follow up query responses: "No, we can't bypass all of our security procedures just for you" and "yeah, well, fuck you too buddy".

I've just learnt a valuable lesson: when someone is choking on some food, making them laugh is not the best course of action.

The correct thing to do would be to steal their food and their wallet while they're incapacitated. Obviously.

I went to a comic fair on Saturday, not especially for the merchandise but for the boost to my self-esteem. When I entered the hall, the waves of body odour splashing over me made me realise that I was the Fonz and at least half of the people in the room were Pottsies. I was COOL. Hell, I would have still been at least Chachi even if I had been wearing custard-stained wash-day clothes and a "Meatloaf ROCKS!" day-glo badge.

Of course, upon leaving the arena and re-entering "reality", I instantly lost my cool because my phone wasn't the right shade of chrome and I hadn't spent three hundred pounds on some Burberry socks. I was back to Ralph Malph status once again.