If Music be the Food of Love...

why was Jimi Hendrix so bloody skinny?

Ow. My Head.

I would have used exclamation marks, but that would have hurt my head too much*. Yes folks, I am officially hungover. Despite getting up at 7am not feeling too bad beyond a lightly throbbing headache and having liberally quaffed the requisite ibuprofen over my breakfast of tea and toast, I now feel as if I have an IV attached to me, specifically designed to remove every fluid ounce of energy from my body.

To be fair, I did not consume a great deal – just half a bottle of champagne I had been given and had chilling ain a conveniently located fridge, followed by a couple of pints in Bellamy’s Bar. Yet I made the godawful and schoolboy error of not having eaten since breakfast; odd when you consider that I am neither godawful nor am I a schoolboy.

Suffice it to say that the champagne (possibly the worst beverage to have sloshing around an empty stomach) and lager (2nd worst) left me a little worse for wear. Strangely for one who usually manages to recollect the finer points of even the most debauched of evenings, I have no idea how I got on the tube or the ride itself. The night only picks up again as I am walking the streets of Bow towards my cosy abode.

And it was here that I came across the most devious alcohol demons: a late night MacDonalds. And I had money on me. Fortunately, I resisted the drunken temptation to order everything on the menu. Unfortunately, I ordered a milkshake. A milkshake! Of all the post alcohol drinks one can devour, this one is probably the most suicidal (drinks do have feelings, y’know, lol), with its thick texture and frozen taste combining to make it a pleasant enough drink with horrible consequences the following morning. But devour it it I did. No prizes for guessing why I feel so iffy now.

And therein lies my explanation of why you shall have to wait until this afternoon to read my account of last nights conference with Jon Cruddas which, fortunately, occurred prior to my drinkage, and which, fortunately, I took notes on.

I hereby apologise to anyone I offended/bored/your description of my drunkenness here.

Now, I wonder if that cork ever turned up?

• Let the records show that I wrote this this morning. Yet in post-alcoholic melancholy managed not to “publish.”

Pick of the Petitions. (1)

I had to trawl through a search of the e-petitions at Number 10 to see what had been suggested regarding "parliament" (just for fun, you understand) and came across these....

Petitions like this one make me consider that the e-petitions function may serve one glorious purpose - discouraging people from sending petitions which it is, quite frankly, a social embarrasment to publicly support. But then, I see it happens anyway.
We the undersigned petition the Prime Minister to To acknowledge fetishism and sadomasochism as sane sexual practices (23 signatures)

A petition to keep Galloway off the top spot in the charts?
For the past few years the lucrative music market at Christmas has been dominated by manufactured TV tie-in 'acts'. We know that the Prime Minister can play the guitar, so how about releasing a song this Christmas to give us a change at the top of the singles charts? This would be great for the British recording industry and would also, I am sure, increase younger voters' interest in politics. (25 signatures)


This one is for the Hamers....
We the undersigned petition the Prime Minister to Move Parliament to Bradford. (59 signatures)

This is what I was actually looking for, I knew that someone had to have created it......
We cannot afford both parliament and royalty anymore! Politicians are too expensive. They are untrained in what they do and yet they want parity with doctors and head teachers. Cromwell must be turning in his grave, he knew about this sort of corruption and self-interest. Taxation is getting so bad now that there is nothing out there that isn't taxed to the hilt and it can only get worse. Brown has turned into Dick Turpin rather than actually deal with anything,throwing money at the problem. Big egos create ever increasing entourages, and this is what the infrastructures have become. my solution is(as the infrastructures are now there),make the royal family work for a change), anne in charge of Defra(we won't get any £200 million fines for not paying up on time). Getting rid of hundreds of mp's would save millions before even tallying their expense accounts and perks.They are just 'hogs in the trough'and removed from any 'real' reality. (1 signature, thgouh I'm somewhat tempted to add to it, just for fun)

And finally....
The Cornish have long maintained that they are a nation seperate from Scotland, Wales and England. They have their own language, and once had their own currency, and in the past the Cornish Stannary Parliament could veto Westminster. A large percentage have preveously petitioned for a Cornish National Assembly. They once produced 1/4 of the worlds tin to fuel the industrial revolution, and still produce 1/4 of the china clay. 4th? whatever happened to Northern Ireland? (35 signatures)

2006 Racial Equality Awards.

It has been announced today* that this year, the Award for Excellence in the Field of Promoting Racial Equality is to be shared by two individuals who have together strived to create an understanding among the public at large that all races are equal. The award goes to Ken Livingstone and Trevor Phillips, for collectively and conclusively demonstrating that both white and black people can be equally idiotic at times. We salute you.










The results were due to be announced a while ago, but were delayed due to my being extremely busy/lazy (delete where you think appropriate).