....... and the weather, I have said it once and I'll say it again, Canada has got too much of it. Coming back here in January is a good reminder of why I want to live somewhere else. It's -8C today falling to -12C tonight and there is a bit of a wind, which means that if you include the wind chill factor it feels fucking cold. I walked to the subway today with my father in-law Dave, I'm not used to the temperature here after 5 minutes my neat and tidy conveniently recessed ears turned blue, after 10 minutes they cracked and fell off. It was so cold my cheeks stung and my teeth hurt. Dave loaned me some ear muffs which I used to clamp the little icey discs of flesh to the sides of my head until they glued themselves back on. I really can't imagine what it must be like to live in a 'cold' part of this country, in Winnipeg this weekend it will get to -34C.

For people such as myself this is all far too cold, although I imagine that the residents of Yellowknife in the Northwest Territories are reading about the weather here today and are buying their flights and packing their swimming trunks for some beach time on the shores of lake Ontario. The mean average annual temperature in Yellowknife is -5.4C, tonight there it will fall to -39C after a comparatively baking hot -24C earlier today.

The coldest temperature ever recorded and confirmed in Canada was at Snag in the Yukon, a ghost town now (for obvious reasons), but back in 1947 a thriving metropolis of about 10 natives and fur traders and a dozen or so military staff trying to hold open the little airport on the Northwest Staging route when on February 3rd the temperature dropped to -63C (-81.4F). For the record, the coldest temperature reliably recorded on earth was -89.2C (-128.6F) on July 21st 1983 in the Antarctic by the Russian Vostok scientific research station.

Fortunately, global warming seems likely to make Canada an archipelagic tropical paradise, the tundra will melt, Mounties will politely police the happy populace from airboats and better still, rising sea levels will submerge large parts of Quebec.

RANT MODE ON>
We are in Canada for the week, well I am in Canada for the week, Laura and Evelyn will be here for perhaps two months. With everything that has gone on we weren't paying attention while Laura's fiance visa ran out and even though we are married, the retards that work in and manage the Home Office said she had to go back to Canada and re-apply for a spousal visa that they actually have no choice but to grant as it would contravene European law to refuse it. Sorry, but it's this sort of thing that really gets me down about the United States of Scotland, Wales, Northern Ireland and that other place that no-one in the Scottish run UK government seems to give a shit about. Until the general public noticed what they were doing, the Labour party had a more or less open door policy to immigration from poor countries so they can grow their voter base in England. They covered what they were doing with crap about immigration being great for the economy stating how much tax the immigrant population had contributed without mentioning the cost of social security payments, healthcare costs, council/government/court translation fees, prison costs, available accomodation and housing stock depletion (with the consequent increase in house prices and non-availability of social housing) and the cultural destruction caused by large scale settlement of people that would prefer on the whole to change England rather than fit in with the indigenous population.


Don't get me wrong, this isn't a race thing, I feel the same way about a large number of the British ex-pats in Spain, but at least most of them are paying their own way.


If you can't positively contribute, (which means you give more than you cost) to the country you move to then stay home. Of course if you can, then go live wherever you want or move in next door, it's fine by me!


I have always worked, haven't claimed any benefits in 22 years, pay over
£40,000 per year in direct taxation (for which I get more or less nothing in return) and to keep my English speaking, fullied supported by me, wife in the country it has cost me:

Douglas Adams observed in the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy that, "Anyone who is capable of getting themselves made President should on no account be allowed to do the job." The same could I think be said for most all politicians and the bureaucratic lickspittles of the Civil Service that serve no-one other than themselves. I have come to realise over the years that the working for the government is: the lazy man's alternative to a real job; like sitting on a cart laughing while someone else pushes you uphill; the governments mendacious way of reducing unemployment statistics or a combination of all three. It is not important which party gets in, once they have been in power for a while their tongues are so deep in the sphincters of the people that buy their favours they can no longer see or hear the people that they are supposed to serve. When will they realise that they should answer to the tax payers that work so that the politicians can sit on their arses thinking up more ways to asset strip the middle classes.

RANT MODE OFF>

On a different note I read a hilarious book on the flight over: the autobiographical Don't tell mum I work on the rigs she thinks I'm a piano player in a whorehouse by Paul Carter, buy it, read it and lend it to your friends, I'll be buying the sequel for my flight back.

After my reference to George W McMonkeyboy in my previous post I was quite surprised to stumble upon the intriguing BushorChimp website, circumstantial yet compelling evidence for the theory that although humans and chimpanzees share 98% of their DNA, with Republicans it is closer to 99%. Furthermore, a little googling revealed that he has been nicknamed Smirky McChimp on both sides of the US political divide.

Americans, don't you love'm!

Apologies to my good US buddies Tim, Karyn, Karen and others whom I really do love for the embedded sarcasm in the title. Further apologies to all my friends from non-US North, South and Central American countries that get upset when the word American is used interchangeably with the phrase United States citizen



Electroshock stun gun manufacturers Taser have just released a new product to pimp up their personal protection line, the new leopard print TASER® C2, the very latest in high fashion ghetto weaponry.






And that's not all, so as you don't get bored on the bus waiting for someone to attempt mugging you, you can buy a specially designed case for it, the TASER® MPH Holster, with a built in MP3 player. I shit you not.



It's only a 1GB MP3 player though, so you had better not be too fussy over who you shoot with it or you might run out of rap before you zap.








My good friend John went back to Reggio Emilia for Xmas where he keeps his wife and kids. It is this hallowed region of Northern Italy that we have to thank for Parmigiano-Reggiano and prosciutto di Parma. When John wants some parmesan cheese he goes to the dairy that make it and tells them how much to cut from a wheel. When I want some I go to my bank manager. John pays about €12.5 (£9.36) per Kg, here in the UK it costs between €35 and €60 (£25-£45) per Kg. He brought back a 1.2Kg chunk for me. I was so grateful when he pulled my cheese out in the pub (fnar fnar) that I forgot myself and bought him a pint.









Now we live in a very nice part of town, next to a less nice part of town. I'm a big guy so I don't get bothered much, but it makes a man a little nervous walking around with that much cheese. Maybe I should get one of those Taser C2s, you can stop a big mouse with one of those babies!






And another thing, I'd like Hilary Clinton to be the next President of the United States, she is an intelligent, compassionate and thoughtful woman and would I think, do the best job repairing the financial, social and reputational damage inflicted on the country and the rest of the world by George W Mc Monkeyboy. I would also like to hear lurid details of new oval office sex scandals and as a Clinton, I reckon she is the best candidate for this as well.



Crocs Update: Don't bother with the mammoths! As they don't have a strap at the back your heels come out at every step and you feel like a hairy transvestite harlot wearing them. Not for me matey oh no!

Well 2007, a year that could in many ways be likened to ducking for toffee apples in a barrel of vinegar, is finally over. Settling down again in the UK has been financially ruinous, my job has had more downs than ups and Laura hasn't been well a lot of the time. On the plus side: we had a healthy baby despite all attempts by the NHS to ruin it by prescribing Laura 1/5 of the medication needed for her hypothyroid condition and repeatedly losing her test results; we got married; things are much better at work, although that may all change in the next month or so as changes emanating from the take-over of my employer become apparent; my bonus in February should clear my UK debts.

2008 will be interesting, if all goes to plan:

• We'll spend a month in Amsterdam while I attend to some issues in the office there.
• Evelyn will get chatty and take her first faltering steps.
• The current government will give up, call an election and lose mightily.
• England will get independence from Scotland.

I truly despair of this country, additionally, I saw this sign on a shelf at Boots the chemist last week:

Sorry, but I don't think that anyone unable to work out what half of £1 is should be allowed out alone and certainly not allowed out to spend money, I have kitchen utensils that could work this out.

I have decided that I like Crocs. A lot. I bought a pair of black Jekyll Crocs in a Spanish supermarket last year figuring that I needed some as it was so hot and they were only about €7 which seems about the price that they should be. I now wear them in the house as slippers, out the house, to go to the pub and much to the consternation of Laura with socks if it is cold. I ordered a pair of genuine Crocs Caymans today and am waiting for a pair of Mammoth Crocs to arrive in the post so that I can do without the socks and dissing from my better half. My bank balance is a depressing shade of deep scarlet, but my Paypal balance is OK due to my offing some unwanted stuff shortly before Xmas, from which my feet will soon be reaping benefits. Laura hasn't missed out, I bought her some black and white Sassaris and some ruby Alices. There is an old army saying apparently, that goes "spend as much as you can on your boots and your bed, because when you're not in one, you're in the other". Buy some, your feet will love you and they don't actually cost that much, especially if you get a snide pair.

Festive Greetings!

Christmas, not just a time for uber-shopping, as you can read in the reflective and somewhat spiritual Xmas post from my archive here. It is also a time when people that believe in ancient fairy tales celebrate the birth of a Palestinian political agitator that had his birthday moved to coincide with the Roman festival of Sol Invictus.

Fortunately for all those that live within it, Western Europe seems to have lost interest in all this mumbo-jumbo and no longer needs the threats and promises of archaic Semitic campfire ghost stories to cajole us into behaving. Of course, if your personal morality needs a little bolstering or you draw comfort from that not-being alone in the universe feeling that religion provides that's fine too. Or it is as long as you are not in a position to spend my tax money or start wars. Of course if Tony Blair (Bliar?) had said "I am a lying self delusional bastard with an imaginary friend in the sky that enables me to auto-justify anything I f***ing want to without recourse to parliament, the electorate or my conscience." then I guess we wouldn't have had him as Priminister for so long.

So it just goes to show, honesty really is the best policy, if either he or his sniveling worm-tongued spin-liar Alistair Campbell had been, we may not have suffered him this long. Still, at least now we are in the safe hands of Gordon Brown. Or maybe not. Nope it looks like we have another idiot with an imaginary friend in the top job, of course really he's been screwing it up for a long time, but now he's starting to get the credit for it.

Anyway, enough of that! Happy Xmas

Jesus, he's not just for Xmas you know!

So I've been away a little while and you need an update:

We got married on August 4th at Marylebone Registry Office.

Evelyn was born, somewhat traumatically for her parents on November 3rd at 12:33 am.

Life has changed quite a bit. Laura who normally needs 14 hours sleep (every 12 hours) is finding our new schedule somewhat tiring as am I. Evelyn is fine, happy, alert, gaining weight and developing some truly devastating defecatory ballistics.

I apologise for not updating this recently and I won't waste your time with excuses, but I would like to wish you a warm and happy Christmas from the three of us.

If you haven't seen Sofia Coppola's movie about the life of Marie Antoinette, don't. It is two hours of unadulterated directorial ego masturbation. I think Sofia was lent a copy of the excellent, tongue in cheek Plunkett and Macleane and thought she'd do a big budget chick flick version. Which might have worked, but she hasn't the talent. Self indulgent hints to her own over-inflated self opinion include a pair of basketball shoes in shot with the rest of Marie Antoinette's footwear. Every segway is an excuse to spin up another 80s rock or pop anthem. Sorry but it doesn't work, the only people that will like this rubbish are girls and homosexuals, and then most probably only for the costume and set design.

Laura is watching the end of the movie as I write this blog. I am now going to commit my words to the ether and settle down with the historically far more accurate Talladega Nights, The Ballad of Ricky Bobby.

Hot Fuzz

Laura and I saw Hot Fuzz tonight, it starts a little slow, but there are some serious belly laughs once it gets moving. If you have nothing better to do, or are in a bad mood, go see it, you won't be afterwards. Not as good as Shaun of the Dead but a cracker all the same.

For reasons as yet unexplained, Laura came home with a bottle of this stuff. L's body temperature is a mystery; on getting into bed tired and wanting to sleep, she is sub zero, the moment she falls asleep the furnace goes on and her skin temperature rises to the point that the hairs on my arms spontaneously combust and I have to throw the duvet off lest it catch fire. On waking she is back to complaining about how horribly cold it is and refuses to get out of bed until the central heating thermostat is set to barbecue.



Anyway to see what this stuff is like she put a little bit on her finger and blew, it got hot. I think she plans to wait until I am at work, cover herself head to foot in it and stand in front of a fan.

My boxers
While in Costa Rica I purchased some boxer shorts, no surprise there. I don't dress commando every day. Easy ladies! They were not expensive, in fact they were from Automercado, but I love them. In common with probably everyone occasionally I buy an item of clothing and love it so much that I know that if I can't get an identical replacement I will be distraught. The first time this happened to me it was a pair of Gaerne enduro motorcycle boots that ended up saving my ankles when I had a car interface, they still make motorcycle boots but not a pair like the ones I love. Latterly I have learned the lesson, in Canada I discovered a pair of walking shoes, trainers or whatever they were that were goretex lined and so comfortable that I could wear them all day and then at the gym after work, marvelous, after I had them a week I went and bought another pair, but now one pair are on the way out and the other pair although still in Canada and bound to arrive before the first give up the ghost will be the last, the manufacturer doesn't make them any more. Damn if I hadn't bought six pairs or maybe twelve. But back to my boxers.... I liked these so much I did actually buy twelve pairs or maybe more. What is cool about them is that they have an inside pocket attached to the elasticated hem.

Those of you that have spent time in Latin America will know that a $20 bill will get you a very long way in a taxi and a $100 bill will get you nowhere as no-one has change for such a large denomination and those that do, think that all $100s are counterfeit and will have nothing to do with them. The other week I found a $20 poking out from under the insole of some shoes, you can tell I've spent some time in dubious places. The shoe trick wouldn't have helped my pal Joe in Cuba as he managed to get his trainers stolen there, which is a serious crime. In Cuba a national can get 5 years for giving a tourist a nasty look. But as far as I know, one's underpants and especially Joe's are generally safe from intrusion. These would even have saved him in Colombia when he was kidnapped and taken for a gunpoint tour of local cashpoint machines. That extra $20 wouldn't have stopped it but it would at least have enabled him to spend the rest of the night boozing away his sorrows. He couldn't have got a taxi with it, getting a taxi solo in Colombia is exactly how he came to be kidnapped in the first place.

Anyway I like to think of these boxers as my adventure underpants and worried as I am about them wearing out and never being able to buy another pair, I keep them for special occasions and adventure. So now I have the other problem.....

I have loads of boxers but don't want to wear any in case they wear out, I guess I'd better go commando.