Licentia est autem memoria

I was on the dealing floor today and between being yelled at by the barely evolved barrowboys who inhabit these regions glanced over at one of the big screen TVs permanently tuned to a news channel. Some dipshit politico was burbling away and underneath the scrolling ticker said something about the latest government wheeze to bring us all together.

So what would that be. Insistence on new arrivals being tested on their ability to speak English and if they can't after six months booting them out? The public hanging, drawing and quatering of the the next smegmatic imam to as much as vaguely hint that imposing sharia in the UK would be good thing. Scrapping all faith schools and insisting children be educated in mixed environments and all wearing the same school uniform?

Nope, we're going to have a national motto.

Yep. That'll do the trick.

I would suggest that the motto of the Firkin chain of pubs might be appropriate: "Nunc ad mortem bibendum" - "Now let us drink ourselves to death"

However Gordon, if you're reading this you can have the title of this blog as my gift to you for your motto. I doubt a pigshit stupid politico like you can actually speak Latin, you probably think it's "papist" given where you're from anyway, so I will translate.

"Freedom is but a memory"

You'll need to get it translated into Arabic, Pashtun and Wolof yourself.

On not stinking like an ashtray

Your little dragon was out on the ales last night with long time friend and occasional commentator on this blog "Blackpowder"¹; as usual at these events much Timmy Taylor's Landlord was consumed, laughs were had and I seem to remember we called the McCanns a bunch of creepy cunts on more than one occasion.

However about half way through the evening I noticed something... I was breathing. As you may know I'm a slightly asthmatic dragon and I don't tolerate smoke especially well but it wasn't smoky. Of course I'd forgotten about the smoking ban and this was the first time I'd been in a pub since it came into force. I must admit to being somewhat torn on the idea of a smoking ban. On the one hand I take a classic libertarian approach in that people can do what they want to their own bodies and the owner of a premises should be free to dictate the terms of use of those premises. conversely I fucking hate cigarette smoke and waking up in the morning stinking like an ashtray with a trip to the dry cleaners in prospect as my clothing now smells like Beelzebub's arse.

The clincher came this morning however. After a night in the pub on the Milk of Amnesia I woke up without that feeling that throughout the night two gay bull elephants have been bouncing up and down on my chest whilst having sloppy botty sex.

Smoking ban = good thing.


¹ Who I think I managed to persuade to start his own blog which is sure to be hilarious and even more grumpy than mine.

L'hiver viendra

J'entends le loup, le renard et la belette,
J'entends le loup et le renard chanter,
La jument de Michao a passé dans le pré,
La jument de Michao et son petit poulain,
A passé dans le pré et mangé tout le foin,
L'hiver viendra les gars, l'hiver viendra,
La jument de Michao, elle s'en repentira.

Brrr... L'hiver is indeed viendraing. Bloody freezing cold this morning and it's now got to the stage where it's dark when I haul myself out of the cave at 6am and it will be dark when I get home as well; at least we're not yet at the stage where it's dark when I get to and leave the office... I hate that, makes me feel like one of those pit ponies that used to work in the mines and only ever saw daylight at the weekends.

Speaking of ponies and my juments in particular they are starting to turn fluffy so that's a sure sign that winter is indeed on its way. Time to break out the rugs I bought in the sale. At least I got sorted out for foin, bought a hundred bales at the weekend which with what's left of last years should see me through to spring.

Now I just need to find out what a pré is and stop the girlies going into it. Don't want any repentiraing going on chez Dracunculus.

Northern on the Rocks

They say that if you owe the bank a thousand pounds you have a problem, however if you owe the bank a hundred thousand pounds the bank has a problem.

The Northern Rock have a really big problem dragon on their hands.

Product Launch Announcement

Renault have launched a new model with a special leak proof boot

The Renault McCann.

Mad as a Box of Frogs 2

Grumpy Dragon Entertainments Inc brings you another entry in our irregular "Mad as a Box Of Frogs" series. Today's pearl of insanity comes to you from "Everything you need to know about Christian Sexuality"

One thing that I teach people about in my book, The Spirits of Sexual Perversion Handbook, is that any act of sexual perversion can lead to other acts of sexual perversion. For instance, you can be a hetrosexual male and commit fornication and then find yourself inexplicably developing an interest in gay sex later on.

But wait... it gets worse!

That act of fornication opened both men up to other acts of sexual perversion. The spirits that I expose in the book are:

Fornication, Masturbation, Adultery, Incest, Homosexuality, Prostitution
Pornography, Sexual Fantasy, Rape, Pedophilia, Bestiality , Lust,
Lasciviousness, Promiscuity

Involvement with any of the above spirits can lead to involvement with all of the above spirits. This is especially the case when spirits are transferred to you during intercourse with someone.

There you go, you sleep with someone who likes looking at porn and the next thing you know you're cruising the streets looking to pay for sex with a underage billy goat and thinking about Kylie Minogue in a wetsuit with the bottom cut out... and you're going to do it more than once!

Heal her Lord, for she is afflicted with jelly for brains. She can't even spell "Lasciviousness" - I had to correct it in her post!

UPDATE: For more giggles go to the homepage of the blog and click on her word links... you even get 2 shots at "bestiality" because she spelt it wrong the first time, the fucktard.

Communications failure

Nearly half a million people, described by the UN as "the poorest of the poor", will soon be able to make mobile calls. As part of a UN programme to tackle poverty in rural Africa, 79 villages across 10 African countries will be hooked up to cellular networks.

"Hello? Hello? No I'm on my ox cart on the handsfree. No, on the OXCART. I can't hear you. I CANT HEAR YOU. Oh hang on we're about to go through a tunnel..."

You would have thought that access to clean water, a reliable food source and a government that didn't keep trousering the wealth of their countries would have been a priority but I'm only a dragon so what would I know.

Hate to say I told you so

But I told you so.

More than once.

Smug, smart-arse dragon is having a really good giggle and waiting to see how the tabloids get themselves out of this one.

Vodafone - Bastards

You may not know this but most of my vitriolic outpourings on the interweb are tapped into the laptop as I zoom up and down what is laughably called "The Fen Line" by the railway company and then squirted into the ether by a GPRS card which sticks its bright red aerial out of the side of my PC making my lappy look like a dog with a stiffy (memo to self: do not lend laptop to Eric Gill).

As you can guess from the colour of said aerial the card hooks up to Vodafone and, for twenty five quid a month, I get 250Mb of download traffic. All fair enough until last month when I get hit with a 118 quid bill. Quick look at said bill confirmed that they hadn't included my "inclusive" quota of blog postings and internet porn so I ring up to sort it out.

"Oh yes, we've made a mistake, we'll send you out a revised bill."

Week later, no bill and 118 quid missing from the dragon's horde.

Big mistake; There is a pile of eviscerated knights out by the bins¹ which should serve as a warning that pilfering from my big pile of gold, jewels and collateralised debt securities is not a good idea.

Ring Ring: "Hello Vodadog? So how come you've taken this money out, when you said you wouldn't?"

"Oh yes, some bills went out in error. We'll refund you on the next bill."

"Hang on, you're in possession of ninety three quid of mine. Are you going to refund the interest?"

"Er No."

"Give it back now then."

"Can't"

"Can't or won't?"

"Can't. I can't do refunds. Talk to your bank."

"I assure you that is exactly what I shall be doing. Can you take a complaint?"

"Yes."

"Good, now this is how you spell 'shoddy customer service', 'theft', 'fraud' and 'please stand still while I immolate you'"

Cunts. Wonder what O2's reception between London and Cambridge is like.

UPDATE: I'm not alone, apparently.

UPDATE UPDATE: Bank were sweetness and light (they get like that when they look at the balance of the hoard) and promised I'd have my money back within a day.

¹ Bloody council refuse to take them away. No idea why I pay my council tax, shoddy bastards.

I want a centaur!

Yay! With a firm two fingered salute to the religious, anti-science lobby the HFEA have given their go ahead for the creation of human-animal hybrids.

Dr Tony Calland, chairman of the British Medical Assocition's ethics committee, said it could lead to "major breakthroughs in treatments for Alzheimer's, Parkinson's and other serious diseases".

Bigger Yay! I've seen up close and personal what those two abominations do to a person and those around them. Get a move on chaps, crank up those Bunsen burners and let's get cracking on sorting out a cure, ideally before I need it.

But biggest yay is the giggles factor at watching the usual suspects writhe and flail about whilst the science world gives them a collective mooning...

Anthony Ozimic, secretary of pro-life group the Society for the Protection of Unborn Children (SPUC) said he "deplored" the HFEA's decision. "This is not just a case of the 'yuk' factor - there are grave ethical and moral objections to this research and the way it is being promoted."

Nothing yuk about it you cunt and even if it was who gives a shit; the only "moral" objections you can come up with basically will boil down to "life belongs to my big invisible friend in the sky and you can't mess with it or he'll smite us all (or more accurately you'll show there's nothing that special about being able to create life and where's my precious faith then?)" And when your hands can't stop shaking and you keep forgetting if you've left the gas on I bet you'll be first in the queue for a syringe full of minotaur stem cells; pious twats like you always are (I refer the reader to my Mother Teresa post earlier)

And Josephine Quintavalle, of the campaign group Comment on Reproductive Ethics, said ... "Using hybrid embryos has never been acceptable - it offends the dignity of humans and animals."

Oh just fuck off you piece of shit. Look as soon as you stop wearing leather and adopt a vegan diet then you can start talking to me about the dignity of animals. Tell you what offends the dignity of humans you leprous dick, a once proud and strong man who's motor control is so shot he can't even wipe his own arse, who can't remember who his loving wife of 50 years is any more and who weeps constantly in pain and frustration; THAT offends human dignity you utterly despicable turd, not a few cells in test tube.

Today has been a good day. Progress marches on and the brass band just started playing a quicker tune.

So where do I sign to order a centaur?