Seeing the sights

I have just spent 10 days sailing around the Aegean Sea looking at the sights. This experience has taught me that some sights are, in fact, best left unseen.

Now you might think the one pile of old ruins is pretty much the same as any other pile of ruins -- but you would be wrong. The most interesting old ruins are, in fact, not to be found ashore but right here on the boat. I refer, of course, to the phenomenon universally known as "mutton dressed up as lamb".

I can only assume that women reach a certain age at which they no longer care what they look like although, interestingly, Mrs. D clearly found some of the sights as stomach churning as I did! For example, I do admire women who take such care to insert a highlighted parting into their hair. Or a woman who, for example, doesn't seem to realise that saggy tits do not look their best in a halter neck swimsuit, or that cellulite and a high cut leg line and not a graceful combination.

There comes a time when one does not grow old disgracefully, one simply looks well past one's sell by date. There comes a time when one can look stylish only by avoiding the exposure of sagging flesh. A time when the mirror on the wall no longer tells you that you are in fact the fairest of them all even if, indeed, you ever were.

It's called maturity and it can be carried off with panache and style - provided of course that self-denial does not override common sense.

Gadgets

OK, I will admit that when it comes to the latest newfangled gadgets, I am a bit of a Luddite. I don't actually want a phone that takes pictures because I have a camera that does that. Similarly, I don't want a camera with GPS in it because I know where I am. I don't want to access the Internet my phone because it's expensive and the display is too small to read.

Having said that, I can understand that reading a book on a Kindle is quite convenient and that it is a fraction of the size and weight of half a dozen paperbacks - although I am at a loss as to why it costs £110 and some of the books you can download are actually cheaper in paper form.

This brings me neatly round the subject of a new iPad. I admire its compactness, but not it's price tag. Added to this it seems to me to lack the basics I looked for a computer such as a card slot or a USB port. One of my fellow guests on the cruise I have just done has the latest iPad. Every day he transfers the pictures off his camera onto the iPad. I don't understand why he does this because they could just as easily stay on the memory card until we get home, but to each his own.

To transfer the pictures, he needs to buy a dongle from Apple. This is where I get to say how much I admire Apple's marketing skills. They make all their ports proprietary, so you have to buy a lot of dongles to make them work with non Apple products. The iPad itself might be small and neat, but you need a separate bag for all the attachments.

A while back I bought an MP3 player. The iPod is very neat but it costs a fortune compared to a Creative Zen. The Zen does the same job in a fraction of the price. Also, the Zen doesn't force you to use iTunes and it has an expansion slot that takes a standard SD card in case I fill up the main memory. This turned out to be much easier to do than I thought.

Style and marketing made Apple what it is and, don't get me wrong, they make a quality product. However, like all great bands you can are often do as well or better by looking past the logo and into the specifications.

To prove that point I am currently considering buying a Skoda. How brand unconscious in that?!?

Clergyman sets hearse speed record

Reverend Ray Biddiss, from Halifax has just set the world speed record for a three wheeled hears at 114mph.

The bike mad minister spent four years developing his motorcycle hearse, which he said was much more than a simple motorbike and sidecar. "I wouldn't be seen dead in a sidecar," he said.

The unusual vehicle consists of a hearse built at the rear of the front end of a Triumph Rocket III and can take a coffin of more than six feet in length. If a larger coffin size is required a hydraulic system can add a few more inches to the available length.


"It is 2,340cc of British engineering, the Rocket. If you're going to infinity and beyond, best you go by Rocket," he quipped


The record is awaiting official confirmation from the Guinness World Book of Records. The category had no previous record to beat athough, surprisingly, the Yanks have been using motorcycle hearses for years!

Please tinkle nicely...

Next time you are caught short at Amsterdam Schipol Airport, take a good look at the urinals in the Gents loos (you'll just have to take our word for it, ladies!)...

Whichever one you use, you'll find there is a fly in it.

Or is there?...

Well, apparently not. This is not a real fly at all, as you can see from the close up below :

So what's this all about? Well, it seems that the operators of the loos got just a little bit pissed off (ouch!) with the mess on the tiles so they hit on the bright idea that when a man sees a fly in a urinal, he takes careful aim and tries to flush it away.

And it seems that it works, so who says you can't potty train a man?

The last breakfast

Breakfast is the best meal of the day - especially on this boat.

To be fair , whilst saying that this is a better meal here than lunch or dinner is not actually much of a compliment, it has been pretty good. The boiled eggs actiually have runny yokes, the fried eggs are not congealed, the porridge is really quite good and the bacon is remarkably good especially in a part of the world which is noted for it's poor quality bacon.

But today is different...

Today is the final breakfast before the crew breathe a hefty sigh of relief as they watch us waddle off down the gangplank to get on the coach back to the airport.

Today there is no bacon as they didn't get it out of the freezer last night - mainly because they went ashore for a night out. Today the boiled eggs are solid. Today we are a bloody nuisance that they want out of the way so that they can get the boat sort-of-ready for the next bunch of victims. Everyone is moaning - except for us because we've seen it all before!

I remember Alan Whicker once said that he had three rules for travelling : Never refuse a meal, never walk past a toilet and sleep whenever you can. As seasoned travellers we have certain final morning rules which I would like to share with you in the hope it may help to oil the wheels of your chosen travelling device, so to speak.

Firstly, never give up your room until the last moment. Take no notice of the tactics they may employ to hurry you along because you have paid for it and until disembarkation time it is yours. We never concede this point. Also, always lock your room when you leave. Once in Barbados, a guy who wanted us turfed out of our room because he wanted it tried to get his own back by sneaking in through the open door while we were sat by the pool and making a $100 worth of long distance calls which he then tried to charge to our account. Needless to say, it didn't work but my advice is why take the chance?

Second rule : Never put your tips envelope into the box until after breakfast. Also, leaving it in plain view on the breakfast table has been known to improve the waiter service but I admit on this occasion, I didn't bother. Plus you need to be seen to put the envelope into the box so that your suitcase doesn't go missing or get thrown down the gangplank. Even if you think the service has been totally shit, be seen to put the empty envelope in the box or, as I admit I did on one occasion, put a note inside explaining that your are leaving what you feel is appropriate - namely, sod all.

Our final rule relates to tipping. Some cruise boats automatically add tips to your bill when you get on. Some even insist on charging them to your credit card when you get on. In this case tell them your credit card is in your luggage and say you'll come back later. Then forget. Remember that tips are discretionary and never be embarassed to tell them to take them off the bill of you have had crap service. What we do is to start with the recommended tipping guideline (how presumptuous is that for a start?) which in this case was €10 per person per day and then knock off €10 every time they do something that pisses you off.

Panic stations!

Mrs D. is slow to anger, so when she decides to rename the cruise director 'Cruella' you know that things are in serious danger of going tits up!

Two days ago in Samos, she came banging on our cabin door and trust her mobile phone into my face with the words "There's a phone call for you". Now I have a sick grandson who is due at Great Ormond Street Hospital next week, so as our daughter is the only person with an emergency contact number, our immediate reaction is "Shit! What's happened?!?!"

Apparently what has happened is that Cruella has decided she doesn't want us cluttering up her nice tidy little boat, so she has decided to have us thrown off. Quite why is a mystery to us, but we assume that she simply doesn't like being questioned. Anyway, the London office is on the phone offering us a flight home from Samos because they understand that "we are not happy". I explain that I do not understand where this is coming from as apart from the three star cruise for a five star price, we do not have a problem.

Unfortunately, Cruella has rather jumped the gun by telling several of our fellow passengers that we are leaving the boat, so now they think we are a pair of superior bastards who think that this trip is good enough for them but not for us. As a result, they seem to be avoiding us - a reasonable attitude should the circumstances actually reflect the facts, but unfortunately they do not.

On the top deck, there are two 8 seater tables, so being extremely thick-skinned we just took the first two places for lunch. Squirming rather satisfyingly, they remove the table settings and we now have an entire table to ourselves. The view over Kos town while we ate lunch was most satisfying being, as it was, uninterrupted by our fellow guests!

My grandson is not quite 4 years old, but he is more mature than most of this lot...

Purgatreis

Yes, I know that it is spelt wrong but there is such a thing as poetic licence.

We are back in Turkey in a place called Turgetreis just to clear customs and be on our way.

We have just crossed over from Kos, which was an interesting place. We're not been there before and went wandering into town last night exercising the ubiquitous "free time". Kos town has a decidedly Turkish feel to it even though they have converted to the mosque into a shopping arcade - something which even with my decidedly jaundiced view of religion, I find rather disrespectful and inappropriate.

Today we went up into the hills above town to a delightful little village called Zia. Having had it described to us as a 'tourist village', we feared the worst, but were personally surprised. The view was magnificent and the people friendly and charming.

Earlier in the day we experienced a 5.1 magnitude earthquake - quite an experience as we have been to Greece many times and never felt the slightest tremor. To put this in perspective, this is the same magnitude that caused devastation in Spain a few days back.

A charming Greek lady was telling us that this was the worst quake that they are experienced in 35 years and it knocked all the stock off her shelves. She said she was terrified and immediately felt for her children's safety. The shop is 90 years old and made of stone, but her father assured that the house will stand forever but then added "but the floor may collapse".

We are now across the straits in Turgetreis - or as we have branded it 'Purgatory' - moored in a huge yatching marina and looking at the endless rows of little white boxes that they shove tourists into.

We can't help thinking that the quake was perhaps in the wrong place!

Crap places - Kusadasi

For many years, we have shied away from a holiday in Turkey. There is no particular reason for this or even any logical explanation, but for some reason it has simply never appealed to us.

However, we have always had a desire to see Ephesus. For several years we stayed in Samos and thought about the day trip but being laid back as we always are in Greece, we just never got around to it. So when we saw this boat trip that included a visit to Ephesus and thought, as Mrs D. so succinctly put it, it would be an opportunity to finally go Ephesus 'without inflicting a week in Turkey on ourselves'.

As I write this, we are second morning in Kusadasi and are leaving at lunchtime. Our tour manager summed it up nicely yesterday in a rather an unguarded moment. "Kusadasi is a shit hole" she declared.
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We had an open mind - despite the previously declared illogical bias - but we agree with her. Like a camel, it has few if any redeeming features. Firstly, it is an ugly concrete anthill festooned with more satellite dishes than I thought they were in the entire world. It is a place you pass through to get to Ephesus. This is the sole reason it exists. Each day a new cruise ship pulls in, disgorges coachloads of tourists to Ephesus and then deposits them back at the town centre to be subjected to the Kusadasi shopping experience.

If you have been to Egypt or Morocco will have already experienced this in a lesser form. Here the shopkeepers are absolutely relentless! Is is impossible and even pass within 50 feet of a shop without being pounced on. It is so bad that they even put up signs saying "no hassle" but they do it anyway!

One shopkeeper actually asked me why it was the English don't come into his shop. I explained that the English wish to be left alone to browse in peace and like to see price tags. This concept was totally lost on him proving once again that trying to teach a pig to sing simply annoys you and frustrates the pig!

But just to prove that there is always one, last year Mrs D. bought a leather jacket (quite a nice one actually) in Marks & Spencer is for £220. Yesterday in Kusadasi, one of our merry gang bought quite a simple for £250 and was bragging about it being such a great bargain. The sheeple billed and cooed accordingly, whereas Mrs D. and I just thought "What a cunt!"

Clearly, the Kusadasi shopping system actually works!

The Dear Gill Letters (10)

THAT wedding...

Sorry I've not written for a while, but we've been sort of busy running around drumming up support in the local elections and, of course, we had to have a little shindig down at Chequers to celebrate our first year in number 10!

I'm so sorry we couldn't invite you, but we had to keep it low key in case Cleggy found out. Don't want a spectre at the feast now, do we? Plus it would have seemed so undignified to be seen to celebrating just when he's been kicked in the nuts!

Anyway, wasn't the wedding great? I loved it! I got a free dress to wear and everyone said how great it looked. Seems a shame I had to give it back afterwards. Apparently, they offered it to Fergie until they found out that the dreadful haringer hadn't been invited. Seems Andy wasn't to popular over that one, but what did she expect after selling him out to the ragheads? Anyhow, it would have been miles too small for her...

I'll let you into a little secret, darling - I had a super hat lined up, a lovely floaty straw job which would have been simply divine with that dress, but one of the horses took a fancy to it and chewed a great big lump out of it so I had to go bareheaded much to Dave's consternation! "You can't go to a Royal Wedding without a hat!", he said but I just replied "Darling, I'm the first lady. I can do what I damn well like!" Anyway, horse manure is such a bad look, eh? ha ha!

And talking of hats, did you see the monstrosities that Andy's sprogs were wearing?!? OMG, they've inheritted their mothers dress sense!

Wonder if we'll be invited to the next big wedding, tho - you know, Ed and his bit! Something in red for that one, I fancy!

Toodle pip for now,

Pat-tosh

As I write this, Mrs. D has gone for a lie down. I am forced to admit that the herbal seasick pills are not working. Fortunately, I am blessed with a constitution which would put the average Greek donkey to shame, so I am fine - although three glass of the local red rotgut and a couple of ouzo have most likely helped.

We have just left Patmos, home of St. John the Divine who wrote the book of Revelation. They make much of this on Patmos, not least I suspect because it brings in vast hoards of tourists!

Half way up the mountain is the 'Cave of the Apocalypse' (see photo) where Johhny boy, then 93 years old, apparently penned his tome -  or to be more precise dictated it to his young sidekick. Basically, as you can see, this is a cave but it has been richly embellished with a few icons and the odd authentic saintly relic.

In the roof of the cave, threre is a three way cleft. This is apparently the very spot where Johhny was standing when God spoke to him. To mark this, God then split the rock in three to represent the Holy Trinity.

What a load of old Pat-tosh!

Further up the mountain is the biggest fortified monastery I have ever clapped eyes on - and believe me I have clapped them on quite a few over the years. It is huge and old and if you are ever in the neighbourhood, it is well worth taking a look. However, being the cynical old heretic you might by now expect me to be, I am forced to ask a salient question....

If this is the place where the Almighty chose to reveal his great plan to humankind, then why does this monastery need fortifications and battlements to protect it? Wouldn't God be doing that already?

Oh, ye of little faith....

Please reverse my meal !

Am I being unreasonable? - answers on a postcard, please...

I paid six grand for a cruise on what is described as a 5 star boat, so I think that I am entitled to at least a reasonable standard of cuisine!

To illustrate the problem, after a meal the previous night which comprised a chicken salad, followed by chicken soup followed by chicken and chips, one of my fellow passengers was heard to ask "What kind of chicken are we having tonight?"

To add to the problem, I am reminded of a very dry humoured fellow that I met on a boat half way up the Brahmaputra in India. "Excuse me", he politely enquired of the waiter, "but could you please reverse my meal?" The waiter was rather confused and asked him what he meant. My friend replied "Well, I'd rather like the food hot and the beer cold, not the other way around."

I tried this approach last night but have to confess that the waiter looked at me rather blankly. I suspect the joke was lost in translation!

However, I think I am beginning to get the gist of what the problem is here. The Greek manager on this boat doesn't speak Turkish - which is rather unfortunate because the Turkish crew don't speak Greek. So to make everything work they speak to each other in English.

Unfortunately, I have to confirm that the crew don't speak English either...

Life is Shit

This is possibly the most depressing song ever written and deserves a place in the Guiness Book of Records! It makes 'Old Shep' look positively jolly!



A good while back, I met this bloke on a boat and he said he wrote his own stuff so I suggested he might like to contribute - you know, you write the music and I'll do the videos. Well, I'm no musician and he's no PC genius so it seemed like a good match. I published under my name because he didn't want the publicity. Until I heard this, I thought he as just being modest, but now I can see why...

I reckon this has a bit of a Bob Dylan feel to - well, Dylan in one of his less light hearted moods anyway!

( If you want to listen to his less depressing renditions, I've set him up a blog of his own that you can get to by clicking here )

Foxy hits the spot

You will have gathered from the picture on the left that I was somewhat unimpressed with Liam Fox when I told him what to do with his nuclear deterent...

Well, I have changed my view somewhat after he came out publically against Cameron's balmy plan to enshrine the overseas aid budget in law!

My regular reader will know that I am no lover of ringfencing the aid budget at a time when this country is in the economic crapper, but to suggest that 0.7% of this country's income should be set aside by law is, frankly, completely fucking nuts!

What the hell are you thinking about, Cameron? Is there fuck all else more important for you to be concentrating on at the moment apart from this piece of patent absolute nonsense!?

So all credit to Liam Fox for saying that "I have considered the issue carefully, and discussed it with Andrew (Mitchell) and William Hague, but I cannot support the proposal in its current form."

A source close to Fox insisted that he was not opposed to the government's plan to increase spending on aid, saying: "The defence secretary fully supports the principle of a 0.7% target on international aid. The issue is simply how best to reflect this in law."

Quite right, Liam. If the government decides to give our hard earned money away to a load of bone idle Johnny foreigners then that's one thing. But the government is the government. It does not need to legislate for itself to do anything - it just does it!

It seems a shame to me that we don't have this guy running the country...

Moose-tache of the year

Congratulations to Germany's Elmar Weisser, pictured above. Elmer is the overall winner of the 2011 World Beard and Moustache Championships which were held in Trondheim, Norway over the last weekend.

The biannual beard-off's overall winner - with a beard elaborately shaped into a moose at one end - is no stranger to the competition, having taken the top prize at the 2005 event held in Berlin with a beard sculpted to look like the Brandenburg Gate and at the 2007 England championships in which he showed up with a beard shaped to resemble the Tower Bridge.

Here's the detail of this work of art...

Why a moose? Well, it is a Moose-tache after all!

Really Rotten Boroughs - Suffolk County Council

My regular reader will know that this is not the first time that I have written about the antics of Suffolk County Council's Chief Executive Andrea Hill, but this time it seems that she has really excelled herself...

It has been alledged - note my careful use of the 'alledged' word - that Ms Hill's bullying style of management has led to the suicide of one of her managers. She has been told to remain at home on full pay while an inquiry looks into the death of David White, the acting head of the Tory-run authority’s legal department.

Mr White was found hanged in woods at Butley near Woodbridge, Suffolk, on April 4. The 51-year-old married father had been given the additional responsibility of interim monitoring officer after Eric Whitfield, the officer who previously had the role, suddenly quit.

Ms Hill seems to be rather unlucky with her management team. You might remember my post in December last year regarding Michael Gower who quit his post because 'there is no such thing as a free lunch'. Since then, several other managers have also walked out.

Anyway, the lovely Andrea is on gardening leave whilst this is being looked into - which basically now means that she is being paid her exorbitant salary to sit at home and do sod all, the latest example of a culture in this country that rewards people for failing...

( You can read more about this by clicking here, here or here )

Osama Bin Liner

It's strange how momentous news always seems to break when I am not in a position to comment on it - in fact the original 911 attacks took place while I was sat on my arse in Santorini, and now the supposed death of Bin Laden takes place while I am back in Greece doing likewise.

It occurs to me that I should circulate my holiday dates to the world's press so they can be on special alert whenever I am away.

Anyway, the yanks claim to have finally dealt with Bin Laden who was hiding in plain sight next door to the Pakistani equivalent of Sandhurst. You have to hand it to the guy for sheer, unadulterated, barefaced cheek!

Rather appallingly, I have heard that there has been an outcry about his disposal - not least from a certain gormless out-of-touch archdruid called Rowan. This twit apparently questions whether his shooting was legal and, even more amazingly, whether he should have been given a proper religious send off.

Firstly, let me say straight out that I remain to be convinced they really got him, but that aside I would like to give a medal to the man who pulled the trigger. Even better, let's give him the Nobel Peace Prize. Oh, hang on though! That would make the poor bugger and his family the subjects of the biggest fatwa in history, so let's just send him a great big heart felt "Well done" instead.

Secondly, was Bin Laden trying to surrender? Well my reply to that is "Who cares?" - apart from the archdruid of course. Gun the bastard down like the mad dog he was. Give him the same chance he gave the people in those planes and in the World Trade Centre that day.

As for the disposal of the body, they should just stick it in a bin liner and dump it.

Oh! They did. Well, nice to see the yanks get something right...

Wake up call from Pope

When Jesus asked his disciples to stay awake while he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane, he was asking every believer throughout history to remain awake to the reality of God and to the reality of sin, Pope Benedict XVI has said.

The Pope said that Jesus’s request was “a permanent message for all times because the drowsiness of his disciples was not just a problem in that moment; it is a problem throughout history”.

The Pope said, the lack of awareness about evil is the flip side of an equal lack of awareness about the presence and love of God. “This is our real drowsiness,” he said. “We don’t feel God’s presence."

Sorry, but I just don't get this guy! I mean, I know he's officially infallible and all that but I get the impression that he is just making stuff like this up as he goes along. Where in God's name (pun intended) does he get this guff???

After all, could it be that Jesus just wanted his merry men to stay awake while he prayed? Shurely not...

We was brung up proper!

CONGRATULATIONS TO ALL MY FRIENDS WHO WERE BORN IN THE 1940's, 50's, and 60's

First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank Sherry while they carried us and lived in houses made of asbestos...

They took aspirin, ate blue cheese, bread and dripping, raw egg products, loads of bacon and processed meat, tuna from a can, and didn't get tested for diabetes or cervical cancer.

Then after that trauma, our baby cots were covered with bright coloured lead-based paints.

We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets or shoes, not to mention, the risks we took hitchhiking.

As children, we would ride in cars with no seat belts or air bags.

We drank water from the garden hose and NOT from a bottle.

Take away food was limited to fish and chips, no pizza shops, McDonalds , KFC, Subway or Nandos.

Even though all the shops closed at 6.00pm and didn't open on a Sunday, somehow we didn't starve to death!

We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle and NO ONE actually died from this.

We could collect old drink bottles and cash them in at the corner store and buy Toffees, Gobstoppers and Bubble Gum.

We ate cupcakes, white bread and real butter,milk from the cow,and drank soft drinks with sugar in it, but we weren't overweight because......

WE WERE ALWAYS OUTSIDE PLAYING!!

We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the streetlights came on.

No one was able to reach us all day. And we were O..K.

We would spend hours building our go-carts out of old prams and then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. We built tree houses and dens and played in river beds with matchbox cars.

We did not have Playstations, Nintendo Wii , X-boxes, no video games at all, no 999 channels on SKY , no video/dvd films, or colour TV, no mobile phones, no personal computers, no Internet or Internet chat rooms..........WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them!

We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were no lawsuits from these accidents.

Only girls had pierced ears!

We ate worms and mud pies made from dirt, and the worms did not live in us forever.

You could only buy Easter Eggs and Hot Cross Buns at Easter time....

We were given air guns and catapults for our 10th birthdays,

We rode bikes or walked to a friend's house and knocked on the door or rang the bell, or just yelled for them!

Mum didn't have to go to work to help dad make ends meet because we didn't need to keep up with the Jones's!

Not everyone made the rugby/football/cricket/netball team. Those who didn't had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!! Getting into the team was based on MERIT

Our teachers used to hit us with canes and gym shoes and throw the blackboard rubber at us if they thought we weren't concentrating ..

We can string sentences together and spell and have proper conversations because of a good, solid three R's education.

Our parents would tell us to ask a stranger to help us cross the road.

The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law!

Our parents didn't invent stupid names for their kids like 'Kiora' and 'Blade' and 'Ridge' and 'Vanilla'

We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned HOW TO DEAL WITH IT ALL !

And if you told the youth of today all this, they'd never believe it!!

Friday the 13th

I'm not superstitious, but it is Friday the 13th - a day when, unless I absolutely have to get up, I stay in bed with the covers firmly pulled over my head! Basically, this is because I suffer from friggatriskaidekaphobia.

Apparently, this is a combination of two superstitions - that Friday is an unlucky day and that 13 is an unlucky number...

In numerology, the number twelve is considered the number of completeness, as reflected in the twelve months of the year, twelve hours of the clock, twelve tribes of Israel, twelve Apostles of Jesus, twelve gods of Olympus, etc., whereas the number thirteen was considered irregular, transgressing this completeness. There is also a superstition, thought by some to derive from the Last Supper or a Norse myth, that having thirteen people seated at a table will result in the death of one of the diners

Friday has been considered an unlucky day at least since the 14th century's The Canterbury Tales, and many other professions have regarded Friday as an unlucky day to undertake journeys or begin new projects. Black Friday has been associated with stock market crashes and other disasters since the 1800s. It has also been suggested that Friday has been considered an unlucky day because, according to Christian scripture and tradition, Jesus was crucified on a Friday.

The actual origin of the superstition, though, appears also to be a tale in Norse mythology. Friday is named for Frigga, the free-spirited goddess of love and fertility. When Norse and Germanic tribes converted to Christianity, Frigga was banished in shame to a mountaintop and labeled a witch. It was believed that every Friday, the spiteful goddess convened a meeting with eleven other witches, plus the devil — a gathering of thirteen — and plotted ill turns of fate for the coming week. For many centuries in Scandinavia, Friday was known as "Witches' Sabbath."

Here's a few unhappy events that happened on Friday the 13th :

• Hurricane Charley made landfall in south Florida on Friday, August 13, 2004.
• The "Friday the 13th Storm" struck Buffalo, New York on Friday, October 13, 2006.
• The Uphaar Cinema fire on Friday, June 13, 1997.
• The asteroid 99942 Apophis will make a close encounter with Earth, closer than the orbits of communication satellites, on Friday, April 13, 2029.
• The Andes Plane Crash of 1972 occurred on Friday, October 13, 1972.
• Unix time reached 1,234,567,890 seconds on Friday, February 13, 2009.
• A London Underground Engineering train on the Northern Line became uncoupled and went on a 13 minute journey southbound from Archway, finally stopping at Warren Street tube station. The train in front has been forced to skip several stations and been diverted to the city branch on August 13, 2010.

Luckily, there is only one Friday 13th this year, but Olympic committee take note there are three in 2012, so you are definitely well fucked!

But my problem with this date is a very personal one - my sister was born on Friday the 13th, and she is undoubtedly one of the most poisonous, vindictive and evil bastards who ever walked the face of the Earth.

Thankfully, I have now managed to move house twice without giving her the new address so I should be safe...

...but I'm taking no chances!

+ + + + + + UPDATE + + + + + +
The farce on Blogger today has rather proved my point, hasn't it? Not only that, but Twitter is now refusing logins because it has "temporarily reached capacity"! I love it...

While I'm away (12)

Now where did I put the cellulite cream...?

(In case you're wondering, you can blame a friend of mine down in Devon for the pictures. I promise to forward on all hate mail.)

While I'm away (11)

Elvis is leaving the building....

While I'm away (10)

Hear now the wise words of Yoda...

While I'm away (9)

Bet you're starting to think 'When is this guy back off holiday?' by now, aren't you?

While I'm away (8)

Is that really your body, or are you shoplifting potatoes?

While I'm away (7)

Builder's bum is one thing, but Builder's bum in a thong?

While I'm away (6)

Who says you don't get classy women in WalMart?

While I'm away (5)

Nice arse!

While I'm away (4)

Britney Spears has really let herself go...

While I'm away (3)

Sexxxxyyyyyyy!!!!

While I'm away (2)

SO not a good look!

While I'm away (1)

I thought a little reflection on the ways of modern society might be therapeutic!

Here's the first in a short series of photos courtesy of WalMart, which speak volumes for 21st century living...

Shopping can be so exhausting!