Yeah, that should work.

It would seem that later on this week the City of London is going to be invaded by a rag-tag collection of the great unwashed, eco-nazis, trustafarians and other sundry wastes of DNA all no doubt scrounging the dole (well they are not earning a living or they would be at work on Wednesday wouldn't they?). Naturally as the paedophiles de jour they will be coming to the banks and no doubt shouting at us for daring to have made some money and then, well, losing it.

We have been told that we should not "engage with" the protesters, which is a shame as I was looking forward to getting stuck in and should "call the police if we feel threatened." Yeah, right.

But the best bit is that we have been instructed that in order to keep a low profile we should all dress "casually" for the next few days. Now nobody in The City has worn a tie for years and so being pretty casual its hard to see how much more scruffy we can get. However some of my colleagues in "distressed" jeans and t-shirts were making a fair fist of it this morning.

Quite how this wizard wheeze is supposed to help us avoid the protesters bent on the destruction of capitalism has not really been explained to us, especially when the awkward little green dragon pointed out that we would be walking out of a building with "Banko Di Haggis" written on the front in 20 foot high illuminated letters.

That, combined with our front-of-house security team consisting of Wilf and Albert who have a combined age of 160 and who look like they would have trouble remaining perpendicular to the floor in a modest breeze are not exactly filling me with confidence so I'm planning on bringing in my nunchuks in on Wednesday.

Condoms or USB Sticks

I got a couple of cheapie USB memory sticks at the weekend off Ebay. This is the packet they came in...



Can't help thinking that Whang Whang Print And Box Co. of Shenzen happened to have been packaging condoms just prior to packaging these and just went "ah fuck it, keep the picture, just change the words"

Princess of Fucking Hearts II

OK so Jade fucking Goody has finally shuffled off this mortal coil and joined the Choir Invisible.

Now can we all try very fucking hard not to turn her into the next pissing Princess Diana. I'm watching the BBC News and every twat on the programme is going on about what a marvellous person she was, what a wonderful mother she was, honestly she was not a racist even though there was all that business with that woman from India and, icing on the cake, we have had some bishop saying what a deep and spiritual person she was who has "captured the hearts of the nation" or some such fucking platitude.

Let's get a grip here. This is someone who is famous for being famous and who made pig shit look like it had a PhD. Sure she died of cancer which sucks but how many other people died of cancer today... let me tell you, based on the 2006 statistics over 420 people will die of various cancers today. 419 of them will not have Max Clifford raking in thousands for the people they leave behind, they won't have some kiddy fiddling bishop eulogising them on national television, they won't be a candidate for the next fucking Princess of Hearts.

Well she has got one thing in common with Princess D, they have about the same IQ.

Desperate Voices

You know I think that you must be able to get hold of a satellite channel for thruppence and a pickled egg these days. Having an arse about on a mate's satellite rig I managed to get hold of a channel called "Gay Chat". The premise of this channel seems to be if you are terminally shy with a lousy phone manner and you would like to get some botty action you ring up at 25p a minute, leave a message and presumably people ring in and ask to talk to "Barry in Stoke who likes dressing up and is flexible".

I sat there transfixed for ages. A parade of the lost and lonely, you could hear the desperation in the voices, "I'm Frances," said a chap probably called Sidney putting on his best husky female voice, "please come and dress me up." Then there were the poor sods who straight after saying "I'm Mike", probably then said "I like horsecock" and they edited it so all you got was "I'm Mike" which I'm guessing isn't going to get him many responses and the funniest one had to be the guy who came on and in a tired, bored voice simply said "I'm Pete and I'm in Derby".

I've been to Derby. I sympathise.

Call after call emphasising how they were not a timewaster, that they were "genuine", that they "could accomodate, looking for a meet tonight" which I am assuming for "I am alone in my little flat and I need some human company, please don't fuck me over like so many tossers have done before"

And the cruellest irony came after a few minutes when I heard "I'll be in Barnstaple this Friday, January the 9th"... the fucking calls weren't even current! Somebody somewhere was rolling around in fivers culled from the 10p a minute he got from every desperate twat who rang his 0898 number to be dissapointed yet again. I guess if worst comes to worst he can always pay for the company.

A couple of channels down were about thirty similar channels for heterosexuals, all the same, all just as desperate.