Heidi the cross-eyed Opossum loves Gef the talking Mongoose

Who wouldn't? Yes it's the big love-match of year. The Facebook royal wedding if you will.

http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=11118503209
http://www.facebook.com/Heidi.DasSchielendeOpossum

In even bigger, stranger news, tonight on Channel 4 News at 19.38, during a report about the likely traffic congestion on UK roads, an RAC Patrolman appeared named in a caption as Crackers Patel . Weird eh? As it turns out this is none other than RAC patrolman of the year 2009 , Prakesh 'Crackers' Patel. I may be over-using my new found power to make links but read about this modern-day hero here:

http://www.aviva.co.uk/media-centre/story/17604/mill-hill-man-scoops-top-rac-honour/

To counter the unpleasant taste in the mouth left by sending you to a stinky corporate website, here's a better link. Peter Watkins has updated his site with new information about the availability of films which is good news as most of them I've not seen. I'd love a copy of 'Culloden' anyway. 'The War Game' was pretty scary but did feature the inside of Chatham Town hall in the early 1960s. The very room where the policeman hands over the civil emergency plans is where I used to go to record fairs on saturday afternoons in the 80s. My brother even saw Tigertailz there. Is that how you spell it?

http://http//pwatkins.mnsi.net/
http://http//www.youtube.com/watch?v=58NmAzQzRjk

The RAC is watching you

See. I told you. It was very hard to get this picture as it is forbidden to photograph RAC structures as they do not officially exist. I risked my life to get this pic, even me, the founder of the Revolutionary Army of Crackers. That's how well trained the RAC is, and absolutely committed to abolition of the flawed concept of leadership as set out in my incontrivertable doctrines. I know, I'm an idiot. Plus GROUPTHINK renders committee governance pointless too so how does anything get decided or done?

Just do it!

Or alternatively don't fucking bother. Either is good. It really doesn't matter. I could count my actual followers on the fingers of one hand....of Django Rheinhart. Oh look it up. I pobably spelt it wong anywaz.

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I've been so bad today. I finally totally snapped. It finally got to me. Today there was what appeared to be a big tyre fire somewhere in east Manc and I went on to the big deserted car park at sport city and watched the flames occassionally emerging from the thick black smoke blowing north-west, luckily. It's ok, I've got a cast iron alibi but it was certainly mesmeric watching the clenched fists rapidly rising and turning and dissipating. Actually strangely calming as well as slightly frightening. This odd little spell started and ended in flames. What a horrid few weeks it's been.

The straw that broke the poor Camel's back was simply losing a reciept to be attached to an invoice i had to submit today. Naturally a small folded peice of paper is the easiest thing in the world to lose but looking it for it made me very angry and very late and I never even found it despite having at some point last week, treated it like a very important object. Seriously, it completely ruined my day, throwing everything off balance and making all my interactions with other people rather askew as most of my brain was trying to solve this very frustrating problem. It was already getting dark by the time acceptance finally freed me from this awful curse. It's gone. The very worst that will happen is that I won't get my £12.50 Key cutting bill repaid and I'll look a bit of a twat but hey what's new? I look a bigger twat from actually trying to go about my business with this evil cloud above me. Aw shit.

Funnily enough though, it's not the only time I've had a day fucked up by a seemingly insignificant little peice of paper. Hee hee.

Chances are it stayed in a pocket and got washed into destruction or was discarded along with other pocket kipple. While I was looking for it, a form turned up I'd made someone resend because I swore I'd never got it. That wasn't all my fault this time but it's me who ends up having to say sorry again and looking a prick. How do these things happen? Who's doing this to me and why? Presumably to drive me nuts. The only precedent I can think of is Audrey Tatou in the film Amelie. I'd better not have one of those bitches in here. I'll have to put poison down and that's something I never do. Who am I kidding? I'd love it if Audrey Tatou payed me any attention, if only to torture me psychologically.

You may notice I put a content warning up. I think that obliges me to say more horrid things. Fetid Badger Shitecakes!

OOOOH - copy out the dog story from The Private Eye - later. Ref to Heidi.

The day everything became nothing

Isn't she lovely? Plenty more where that came from, Heidi fans. As for you fans of semi-serious speculation about the faliures of the current economic-political paradigm, just chill for a mo and enjoy this highly satisfying creature who's never started a war or closed a library. There's nothing dodgy about it. I just want her to like me.

Thanks to NOMEANSNO for the title of this post and to the wonderful Jello Biafra for giving NOMEANSNO their platform. Oh go give it a listen here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gbS4Caymdo4&feature=related
Then go straight to DEAD SOULS as it's the next track on the EP: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O8tDrsledJk&feature=related

In Koosism news, you will note that one of our tribe, Mr Moosa Koosa, was rescued from Libya. He may be a bit of black sheep but if there's a Koos in a country being bombed by NATO, you can be damn sure we'll get them out by any means necessary.

Meanwhile the RAC goes from strength to strength, with massive watchtowers being built all o'er this land to guard against the incursions of the cursed ancient ones. Seeing as the top gang (that's all it is) currently is preoccupied with having its hands full while curiously unaware it's all slipping through its fingers, the RAC will now make its benevolant presence felt to the general world population. You can help! Let your neighbours know that help is at hand, that the days of liars, tyrants and hypocrites are numbered and that an Opossum with a retinal developmental disorder is the best thing on this entire planet.

More sense later. Hopefully. Please forgive me! I'm having a rather drawn out odd spell.

I couldn't remember my own name, so I called myself Bob. It's weird being a Bob but I'll get used to it. I have to

Communist Wallpaper

Well at least it makes a change from Heidi the Cross-Eyed Opossum. Don't worry Heidi fans, I've collected plenty more pictures of my beautiful optically-challenged marsupial girlfriend. You heard me.

Well you didn't, obviously. But...

That doesn't matter right now! This is important. Concentrate now!

Now I want you to look at this man. The chap in the picture above there. Yes, above that. I told you to forget about that. Now, this chap, he's called Harry Pollit and we think, well... we have reasons to suspect that he might just be a bit of a red.

Yes that's right, he was in this blog a few weeks back. A lot of nonsense. There's getting to be quite a lot of it about, that Communist stuff. I suppose all that 'Revolutionary Army' stuff kind of invites it. Really, the whole thing's just silly.

Hmmm listen chaps. I've gone and written myself into something of a a cul-de-sac. I started off with lots to say and now I'm stuck in some sort of, what I can only describe as some kind of... Whitehall thing. It's a damn nuisance but that's how it is. I'll get on to those boffins down at the lab and see what they make of it, get a few heads together and the like. Fetch yourself back in a couple of days and I'm jolly sure we'll have this whole nasty business straightened out and Mr blog will be ship-shape, chipper and generally tickety-boo.