Want to save the planet? Buy a HUMMER.

I read an article this morning about the gradual recovery of the aviation industry post-9/11. Not a particularly thrilling read, but one aspect of it really got me thinking. Despite contributing a relatively minor 1.6% of global CO2 emissions, aviation has become somewhat of a bête noir to global warming campaigners. One commentator called for airlines…

…to meet a target of zero carbon dioxide emissions within 50 years.

This immediately reminded me of another piece I came across earlier this month:

The world still has enough proven oil reserves to provide 40 years of consumption at current rates.

If the estimate in the second statement is true, I’d say that in 40 years carbon emissions will be pretty miniscule by today’s standards anyways. Surely it follows then, that if we increase our rare of oil consumption the resulting massive drop in carbon emissions will happen even sooner, right?

Next time you see one of those smug fuckers swanning around in a Smart car or Prius, you might want to remind them that oil-loving bastards like them are only prolonging this period of immeasumable damage blah blah blah global warming blah blah blah poor little penguins etc. If you really give a shit about global warming, buy a HUMMER.

War Premiership Table

As we continue our stroll down memory lane, I’m reminded of this choice little number Dave posted in early 2001. Set the Wayback Machine to stun, kids – it’s the War Premiership Table…

Every time England and Germany meet on the soccer field, the lads in the stand never fail to remind the sausage-eaters that as far as mother England is concerned, it’s two-nil no matter what the ref says. For the record, here’s the scoreboard to date for the rest of the league.

Team Played Won Drawn Lost Victory %
Great Britain 6 6 0 0 100%
NZ & Australia  5 4 1 0 80%
France 17 12 0 5 71%
Russia 17 11 2 4 65%
Germany 13 8 0 5 62%
Greece 6 3 2 1 50%
Poland 6 3 0 3 50%
Denmark 2 1 0 1 50%
Austria/Hungary 15 6 0 9 40%
Italy 6 2 1 3 33%
Turkey 14 4 5 5 29%
Spain 4 0 0 4 0%
  • Points are awarded for conflicts since 1768.
  • Vietnam is scored as a tactical withdrawl, and hence a draw.
  • Stalemates count as a draw.
  • Trial matches in Malaysia, the Gulf and East Timor are not counted.
  • Although Great Britain is the leader thus far on points, special consideration goes to New Zealand and Australia since they have never had a home game.

Cybersex with Bloodninja

It occurred to me recently that I’ve been using the Internet pretty regularly for over 10 years now. In that time I’ve seen some weird shit, much of which most of you won’t have seen. (As many of you have been quick to point out, yes I have waaaaaay too much free time!)

So I’ve decided to go back and find some of the cooler little morsels I’ve found over the years, and republish these for your reading pleasure. I’ll credit the authors where known, but in many instances that’s just not possible (and probably a result of sound legal advice).

Tonight’s thrilling installment: Cybersex with Bloodninja. I’m not sure exactly how long this has been bouncing around, but I recall reading it for the first time in the late 90’s. The original set of about a dozen chats is mirrored all over the place, but this one is arguably the cream of the crop.


Bloodninja: Hello, Sweetheart. What do you look like?
Sweetheart: I am wearing a red silk blouse, a miniskirt and high heels. I work out every day, I’m toned and perfect. My measurements are 36-24-36. What do you look like?
Bloodninja: I’m 6’3″ and about 250 pounds.I wear glasses and I have on a pair of blue sweat pants I just bought from Walmart.I’m also wearing a T-shirt with a few spots of barbecue sauce on it from dinner…it smells funny.
Sweetheart: I want you.Would you like to screw me?
Bloodninja: OK
Sweetheart: We’re in my bedroom.There’s soft music playing on the stereo and candles on my dresser and night table.I’m looking up into your eyes, smiling. My hand works its way down to your crotch and begins to fondle your huge, swelling bulge.
Bloodninja: I’m gulping, I’m beginning to sweat.
Sweetheart: I’m pulling up your shirt and kissing your chest.
Bloodninja: Now I’m unbuttoning your blouse.My hands are trembling.
Sweetheart: I’m moaning softly.
Bloodninja: I’m taking hold of your blouse and sliding it off slowly.
Sweetheart: I’m throwing my head back in pleasure.The cool silk slides off my warm skin.I’m rubbing your bulge faster, pulling and rubbing.
Bloodninja: My hand suddenly jerks spastically and accidentally rips a hole in your blouse.I’m sorry.
Sweetheart: That’s OK, it wasn’t really too expensive.
Bloodninja: I’ll pay for it.
Sweetheart: Don’t worry about it.I’m wearing a lacy black bra.My soft breasts are rising and falling, as I breath harder and harder.
Bloodninja: I’m fumbling with the clasp on your bra.I think it’s stuck. Do you have any scissors?
Sweetheart: I take your hand and kiss it softly.I’m reaching back undoing the clasp. The bra slides off my body. The air caresses my breasts. My nipples are erect for you.
Bloodninja: How did you do that? I’m picking up the bra and inspecting the clasp.
Sweetheart: I’m arching my back. Oh baby. I just want to feel your tongue all over me.
Bloodninja: I’m dropping the bra. Now I’m licking your, you know, breasts. They’re neat!
Sweetheart: I’m running my fingers through your hair. Now I’m nibbling your ear.
Bloodninja: I suddenly sneeze. Your breasts are covered with spit and phlegm.
Sweetheart: What?
Bloodninja: I’m so sorry. Really.
Sweetheart: I’m wiping your phlegm off my breasts with the remains of my blouse.
Bloodninja: I’m taking the sopping wet blouse from you. I drop it with a plop.
Sweetheart: OK. I’m pulling your sweat pants down and rubbing your hard tool.
Bloodninja: I’m screaming like a woman. Your hands are cold! Yeeee!
Sweetheart: I’m pulling up my miniskirt. Take off my panties.
Bloodninja: I’m pulling off your panties. My tongue is going all over, in and out nibbling on you…umm… wait a minute.
Sweetheart: What’s the matter?
Bloodninja: I’ve got a pubic hair caught in my throat. I’m choking.
Sweetheart: Are you OK?
Bloodninja: I’m having a coughing fit. I’m turning all red.
Sweetheart: Can I help?
Bloodninja: I’m running to the kitchen, choking wildly. I’m fumbling through the cabinets, looking for a cup. Where do you keep your cups?
Sweetheart: In the cabinet to the right of the sink.
Bloodninja: I’m drinking a cup of water. There, that’s better.
Sweetheart: Come back to me, lover.
Bloodninja: I’m washing the cup now.
Sweetheart: I’m on the bed arching for you.
Bloodninja: I’m drying the cup. Now I’m putting it back in the cabinet. And now I’m walking back to the bedroom. Wait, it’s dark, I’m lost. Where’s the bedroom?
Sweetheart: Last door on the left at the end of the hall.
Bloodninja: I found it.
Sweetheart: I’m tuggin’ off your pants. I’m moaning. I want you so badly.
Bloodninja: Me too.
Sweetheart: Your pants are off. I kiss you passionately-our naked bodies pressing each other.
Bloodninja: Your face is pushing my glasses into my face. It hurts.
Sweetheart Why don’t you take off your glasses?
Bloodninja: OK, but I can’t see very well without them. I place the glasses on the night table.
Sweetheart: I’m bending over the bed. Give it to me, baby!
Bloodninja: I have to pee. I’m fumbling my way blindly across the room and toward the bathroom.
Sweetheart: Hurry back, lover.
Bloodninja: I find the bathroom and it’s dark. I’m feeling around for the toilet. I lift the lid.
Sweetheart: I’m waiting eagerly for your return.
Bloodninja: I’m done going. I’m feeling around for the flush handle, but I can’t find it. Uh-oh!
Sweetheart: What’s the matter now?
Bloodninja: I’ve realized that I’ve peed into your laundry hamper. Sorry again. I’m walking back to the bedroom now, blindly feeling my
Sweetheart: Mmm, yes. Come on.
Bloodninja: OK, now I’m going to put my…you know …thing…in your…you know…woman’s thing.
Sweetheart: Yes! Do it, baby! Do it!
Bloodninja: I’m touching your smooth butt. It feels so nice. I kiss your neck. Umm, I’m having a little trouble here.
Sweetheart: I’m moving my ass back and forth, moaning. I can’t stand it another second! Slide in! Screw me now!
Bloodninja: I’m flaccid.
Sweetheart: What?
Bloodninja: I’m limp. I can’t sustain an erection.
Sweetheart: I’m standing up and turning around; an incredulous look on my face.
Bloodninja: I’m shrugging with a sad look on my face, my weiner all floppy. I’m going to get my glasses and see what’s wrong.
Sweetheart: No, never mind. I’m getting dressed. I’m putting on my underwear. Now I’m putting on my wet nasty blouse.
Bloodninja: No wait! Now I’m squinting, trying to find the night table. I’m feeling along the dresser, knocking over cans of hair spray,
picture frames and your candles.
Sweetheart: I’m buttoning my blouse. Now I’m putting on my shoes.
Bloodninja: I’ve found my glasses. I’m putting them on. My God! One of our candles fell on the curtain. The curtain is on fire! I’m pointing at it, a shocked look on my face.
Sweetheart: Go to hell. I’m logging off, you loser!
Bloodninja: Now the carpet is on fire! Oh noooo!
Sweetheart: [logged off]

Safari for Windows: first impressions

I was pretty excited to hear yesterday’s announcement about the release of Safari for PC. Having been primarily a Mac user for about four years I’d actually become quite a fan of Firefox, but I do like Safari. Still, Firefox for Mac is a far better user experience IMHO.

Without wanting to sound petty, for me it comes down to a few little things: Like when typing a URL in Safari there’s no ctrl-enter shortcut for entering a .com address. Why not? Firefox and IE have done this for years and it’s really handy. Also, Firefox has all those neat plug-ins you can install. E.g. The Web Developer toolbar – very handy.

Anyhoo, I’m sitting in an Internet cafe in Soho right now, having installed and then toyed with PC Safari for about an hour. My first impressions are pretty favorable. I really like the way Macs render text – much smoother and clearer than the traditional PC approach – and they seem to have ported this pretty well to PC Safari. I’ve read a bunch of criticism this morning surrounding PC Safari’s font rendering, but I’m not so sure. The image below shows two paragraphs of random text – the top one is rendered in PC Safari, and the bottom in PC Firefox. I know they’re crap-quality screenshots, but personally I think the Safari one looks much better. What do you think?

It’s also clear that this is a huge improvement speed-wise on IE, Firefox etc. On a PC it really is second to none. However…

I’ve just been reading about a major security loophole identified in PC Safari that could expose users to all kind of nastiness. I REALLY like this browser, but right about now I’m thinking it was a good idea to try this out in an Internet cafe, rather than risk screwing up my flatmate’s machine on day one of a beta release. Will maybe wait for a few security updates before trying again.

Oh, and if any of you get a call from an angry Internet cafe owner – you’ve never heard of me. Capisce?

I smell bullshit

I’ve voiced my skepticism regarding this ‘man-made global warming’ thing a few times in recent months, and some of you have been quick to jump in to condemn my apparent lack of concern for our (supposedly) ailing planet. As I’ve said before, it’s not that I don’t believe global weather patterns are changing – it’s clear that they are, but I’m still not convinced that it’s the result of anything man has done (for example, it may have something to do with our planet’s proximity to our galaxy’s single largest source of energy).

There’s a lot of good (and a lot of terrible) science on both sides, and I have yet to encounter a sufficiently compelling argument either way. One thing that weighs heavily on my mind, however, is the flipping great wedges of cash being made as the global warming industry hits full swing. Correction: I don’t think it’s anywhere near full swing yet. And I’m not talking about the Kyoto swindle here either (don’t get me started about that criminal waste of my tax dollars!) – I’m talking grass roots retail.

Example: check out this exciting new financial product I saw advertised on the tube today.

A ‘carbon offset mortgage‘? Are you fucking kidding me?

How is anyone supposed to take this issue seriously when there’s obviously so much money riding on making us believe – for right or wrong – that we’re all going to die if we don’t buy ourselves a smaller carbon footprint? Why is it that every time a new ‘colossal threat to our existence’ (see also Y2K, SARS…) is identified, the only solution is to throw billions of dollars at it? When H.G. Wells wrote War of the Worlds and filled our boxer shorts with mud, all we had to do was sneeze a few times and the problem went away. Judging from recent form, my guess is that if little green men do arrive one day with death rays in hand, it’ll be the World Bank called on to send them packing, rather than any military institution.

Did I mention this already? I smell bullshit.

I’m baaaaaaaaaack!

Ok so you probably didn’t even know (or care) that I was gone, but this is my blog so just deal with it. I took off to Marseille with some friends this weekend, and it was awesome. I took a bunch of pics while out exploring, boating etc, but you’ll have to wait for those. In the meantime I feel compelled to share something I read in the free Metro paper on my way back from Gatwick this morning.

I’ll spare you the entire article ‘cos it was bloody boring – a silly puff piece about the recent antics of a disgraced British MP (the kind of press they beg for, and then complain about privacy invasion etc – anything to keep their name in the papers). However, three admissions in the supplementary / background information had me wiping coffee off the newsprint:

Boys and girls, if the opportunity ever arises, DO NOT invite Boris Johnson to a party at your house. Ever.


I’ve uploaded the Marseille pics, but haven’t yet added captions. If you’re so eager (you know who you are!) that you can’t wait a few bloody hours, click here to view.