I still want my centaur

Oh what joy. I figured the sky pixie's fanclub would not take the creation of animal human hybrids (blogged about here)lying down and indeed they did not, throwing their wafers and incense burners out of the pram over the weekend they celebrate the nailing of their deity to a plank. And true to form Bottler Brown caves in to the religious lobby because half his fucking cabinet is made up of left footers and would make for a few embarrassing headlines when the house divided and they went through the wrong door.

I am a torn dragon as I do not know which set of bastards to set fire to first. First the wankers in the pulpits spouting bollocks about shit they could not, blinded by their fairy stories as they are, possibly even begin to understand - a cure for alzheimers disease, no you don't want that, it would offend god, you just sit there and fucking drool. Second their placemen in parliament who are answerable not to the people of this country but to the head of a foreign power in Italy. It's these cunts that really fuck me off; to my mind we are a secular country (nominally I know we aren't but we're certainly not a catholic one) and if you have a religious faith you either check it at the door when you walk into the lawmaking chambers or you fuck right the hell out of public office. Frankly I think anyone with a delusional illness that makes them believe in fairies, invisible pink unicorns or a 2000 year old dead man who talks to them is certifiably insane and therefore unfit for public office of any kind whatsoever.

Hmmm... religious and politicians vs. just the religious. No brainer really, take a number bishop O'Kiddyfiddler I'll get to you in a moment.

Look this is really, really, simple. Even Galileo said that "I do not believe that a God who gave us reason and intellect intended us to forego their use" so why the fuck are we not using every tool at our disposal to end the misery of the diseases that afflict us. Hells donkeys even the chief rabbi said as much at the weekend (but then the yids always were a practical people who don't really believe in god anyway). I will make it quite clear that if a cure for alzheimers disease ming even remotely be found by dropping fetuses and cute baby seals into a large Kenwood food processor then so be it, get on with it. What is fucking offensive is people being robbed of their brains by a fucking evil disease and a twat of a child molestor in a robe spouting on that it is the will of his invisible friend that this is so, not a bunch of twatting cells in a test tube.

Saint Delia

"Oh Delia Smith's new cooking program starts tonight" says Mrs Dracunculus, something about how to cheat at cooking, should be good.

Well both me and Mrs D are not averse to rattling a couple of pots and pans when there are no evicerated knights around to nibble on so we decided to give "Delia does Nigella Express" a go.

Fucking hell! "Does a Nigella Express" is a cunting understatement. The first thing St Delia does is wander into shot and say something like "Five years ago I stopped doing cooking programmes because I had taught you proles everything but life has changed and we don't have time any more blah blah blah" when what she meant to say was "That bitch Lawson is stealing my thunder as the greatest cook since Escoffier and I want REVENGE" which she did by stealing the "express" format right down to the sodding St Germain "Tourist" soundtrack. In total she knocked together a total of six dishes, one of which was basically "Get a jar of fish soup and shove some extra fish in it" and another was "Buy some pesto sauce and stir it into some pasta, look you don't need to make your own pesto!" Jesus Christ on a pogo stick, this just in Delia, no fucker makes their own pesto, we've been buying it in tubs from M&S for fucking years. In total a little less than half of a cookery programme was actually made up with Delia wielding a spoon and actually cooking.

But if her recipe for spag bol made with meat out of a tin (a recipe incidentally that was a student staple for years before I could afford fresh meat) didn't make you heave then the rest would. We get to meet D's dippy old mum bimbling around the kitchen and the fossil she's married to tasting her soup but fully 25% of the programme is taken up with St Delia doing a commercial for the fucking catholic church, doing the bells and smells bit at daily mass at Stowmarket (Mrs Drac, who in a professional capacity once went there said the attendence was "unusually high" and St Delia certainly was not there when she was) and then going round an art gallery with everyone's favourite bonkers nun Sister Wendy who had to come up with the all time "What the Fuck" line when she said of some Coptic art "I love the way the eyes are open so wide, it's because they are looking at God". No you stupid fuck, it was because we as a species hadn't learnt to draw properly when they did those.

So there you have it, a 7 or 8 minute commercial for an organisation that covers up for paedophiles, all paid by from my compulsory television tax.

Now you think I loathe the catholic church... Mrs Drac was dragged up in that "faith" and really loathes it. To the extent that once the program was over she dissapeared into the kitchen for a couple of minutes and I heard a big "thump" noise.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Me throwing both volumes of "Delia's How To Cook" in the recycling bin" she answered.

Well bugger me Darling!

Well much to my surprise I tapped in my details into the BBC's "How much has that gurning fuckwad Darling screwed you out of" calculator this morning and bugger me with a horse dildo if I'm not actually up on the deal by about 250 quid!

Of course it helps if you take your cunningly purchased just below the fuck off tax band 4x4 to France twice a year and bring it back, axles groaning, full of booze so that nice Mr Sarkozi gets the tax revenues and not Gordo's sock puppet.

However you dour presbytarian fuck, doon't for a second think I'm ever going to vote any way but "anyone but you" come election time.

From the wayback machine

With Gazzer passing on, just for old times sake I dug out the old D&D fanzine I used to write and edit with two reprobates back in Sheffield. The cartoons below are by a chap called Steve Gilbert and unless you owned a copy of the AD&D DMG will mean fuck all to you. If you did, enjoy...

Farewell Gary

Today is indeed a sad day for I learned that Gary Gygax, inventor of the role playing game "Dungeons and Dragons" has failed his saving throw against death and has reached zero hit points. He is hereby awarded posthumously the status of Honorary Dragon.

I would not be the dragon I am today without Gary, in fact I probably wouldn't be a dragon at all. I got into AD&D at university, went along to my first game after joining the society during fresher's week and absolutely loved it. A year later I was society president.

D&D taught me narrative, plot, character development and a host of other skills as I ended up writing almost all my games after a few weeks and I can say that I was a fucking good DM; I never had a shortage of players and the games went on long into the night. I made some great friends through the game and had some truly excellent times thanks to it. Contrary to its geeky image it even helped me get laid on more than one occasion. It also got me up close and personal with religious types who were none too happy with this "satanic" game and whereas I was indifferent to the religious until them it served to harden my atheism and taught me that anyone who follows any religion is, when all is said and done, a fool at best and an evil twat at worst.

Later on after leaving uni I fell in with a couple of players and we started a fanzine called "The Immoral Minority" so I even ended up learning to draw properly (well someone had to do the artwork) and how to steal time at the company photocopier without anyone noticing.

And although I played other RPGs, particularly Warhammer later on in my "London Period", AD&D still remained a firm favourite. I still have the books and my dice upstairs in the loft although it's probably fifteen years since I rolled a d20 in anger.

Gary, you were an inspiration to a generation, your invention gave me some of the happiest memories of my life and your legacy will live on*. Today there is no-one sat behind the DM's screen, a can of coke will go undrunk, a bag of crisps unmunched and a d4 will roll no more.

Rest easy Dungeon Master, may Bahamut fly you home.





* (And future generations will forget the fucking awful cartoon series and that turkey of a movie with Jeremy Irons in it)

Soma

Well after a brief break from blogging I'm back at work (although not in the saddle) and so coming into contact with the usual plethora of morons in the big wide world so, grumpiness revived, I'll start stomping and breathing on random fuckers once more.

One thing I noticed whilst I was off was that our lovely nanny Labour are getting all het up about supermarkets selling ultra cheap lager which is supposedly cheaper than bottled water, so cheap in fact that they must be making a loss on every tin they sell.

Now you don't need to sample this product to know that it is going to taste something like chilled horse piss and therefore not something that'll find its way into the shopping trolley of anyone who reads this august journal. No this is chav-fuel, own brand shit for the lower orders so they'll have some money left over after buying 24 tins of Tesco Value Horse Urine for scratch cards and Silk Cut. But no doubt lulled by the soma of cheap beer the estate scum flop around in front of their widescreen tellies and don't cause any bother apart from to their equally slimy neighbours on the sink estate.

Now although NuLab are a bunch of lying, mendacious cunts they are not uneducated and I cannot believe that none of them have read Aldous Huxley's novel "Brave New World" - hey they made a movie out of it if they can't be bothered to actually sit down with the book. The lower orders, the "Epsilon Minus Sub-Morons" were kept quiet with their daily doses of "Soma".

So take the soma away from the pond scum and I wonder what will happen. Can't imagine that they will be very happy about it and I bet the resultant riots as the morons start to think a bit and see the shit they are in without the happy fog of booze will make for great TV viewing. Hint to any aspiring right wing politician: you may want to latch onto this and blame the muslims because they hate alcohol, right?