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Surerandomality Issue Ocean's
Welcome to issue Ocean’s of Surerandomality, never in the history of tattoo sporting pikeys, has so little been stretched into so much. Friday was the first of a long test on Squirrel’s resolve to stick to his new year’s resolution. After visiting Becky he met up with G Man and Ricky in Kro Bar, and then on to the extremely successful New Year’s Eve stomping ground of Jabez. The only thing being that it would appear that most of Manchester is still recovering, as it wasn’t anywhere near being full, and lacked the atmosphere and range of talent from the previous outing, in fact it was somewhat less than the previous tip top outing there. Despite this G Man still managed to pull, but when he let his guard down and turned round she ran off, as fast as her little legs would carry her never to be seen again, in fact it was so quick that the British Olympic Selection team are out scouring the streets of Manchester for her now. Ricky had a nightmare evening of knock backs and blankings, which after his lengthy run of pulling managed to change his tune, about Jabez as a pulling venue. After leaving Jabez and a spot of wrestling they moved on to Shere Khan for a curry, where G Man managed to leave another item of clothing (but he actually managed to get this one back), but another celebrity curry house plate for the collection was obtained. Then onto home where after a game of darts they all went to bed, but G Man had to blast Hopalong (and Mary) out of bed with loud music. Hopalong got his revenge in the morning by setting his stereo to go off at 7 at full blast, safe in the knowledge that he was downstairs watching telly having been driven there by G Man’s music at 5. It has to be said that since then it has been one of the quietest weeks in living memory, with the return to work of everyone, where everyone apart from G Man seem to be busy little bastards, the normal party mentality seems to have deserted Chez Didsbury, except for a excursion into Manchester for G Man and Hopalong on Wednesday night, which started straight from work, and involved Paramount, Square Bar, Springbok and Mutz Nutz where G Man got into an altercation over dancing with someone else’s girlfriend, which led to them being thrown out and G Man getting kicked in the head by the bouncer. They then tried (unsuccessfully) to get into 5th Avenue, Fab Café and the casino (Viva Las Vegas). Thursday morning led to the pair of them ringing in sick, both with very dodgy excuses. Apart from that all that seems to have been done is large amounts of PS2 game time (Hawk and FIFA, thankfully no Getaway this week), long spells of sport watching and long stints at work. It also has to be said that Squirrel is still keeping to his new year’s resolution and hasn’t had a drink yet. At the same time Hopalong’s resolution of giving up smoking went out of the window on Wednesday’s little excursion. Yes mate you told us, BUT, Basically here it is.
What are you all doing sat there reading this. Stop immediately and go out and find your nearest HMV or Virgin mega store and buy Electric Six – Danger High Voltage, once purchased come back and finish reading this whilst playing it at top volume, then persuade everyone you know to go out and buy it as well.
Happy Birthday to Becky who is 28 on Monday, and also Happy Birthday to Karen who claims she was 24 yesterday (She’s 30 if she’s a day).
A reminder to all those last minute shoppers that there are only 349 shopping days til Christmas.
Jon was looking for a little "action." He picked up a sweet young thing at the bar and took her back to his hotel room. Little did he know she was darn near a nymphomaniac. After six times, she was screaming for more. After the eighth time, Jon told her that he needed to slip out for a pack of cigarettes. On the way out, he stopped in the men's room. He stood in front of the urinal, unzipped, and felt a moment of panic when he couldn't find "it." After a couple of minutes of "fishing around," he finally said, "Look, it's okay. She's not here!"
Two strangers are sitting in adjacent seats in airplane. One guy says to the other, "Let's talk. I hear that the flight will go faster if you strike up a conversation with your fellow passenger." The other guy, who had just opened a good book, closes it slowly, takes off his glasses and asks, "What would you like to discuss?" The first guy says, "Oh, I don't know; how about nuclear power?" The other guy says, "OK, that could make for some pretty interesting conversation. But let me ask you a question first: "A horse, a cow, and a deer all eat the same stuff, but the deer excretes pellets, the cow, big patties, and the horse, clumps of dried grass. Why is that?" The first guy says, "I don't know." The other guy says, "Oh? Well then, do you really think you're qualified to discuss Nuclear Power when you don't know shit?"
A boy, frustrated with all the rules he had to follow, asked his father, "Dad, how soon will I be old enough to do as I please?" The father answered immediately, "Son, I don't know. No man has lived that long yet."
The homeowner got into his grubbiest clothes on Saturday morning and set about all the chores he'd been putting off for weeks. He'd cleaned the garage, pruned the hedge, and was halfway through mowing the lawn when a woman pulled up in the
driveway and yelled out her window, "Say, what do you get for yard work?" The fellow thought for a minute, then answered, "The lady who lives here, lets me sleep with her."
A blonde was driving home and got caught in a really bad hailstorm. Her car was covered with dents, so the next day she took it to the repair shop. The shop owner saw that she was a blonde and decided to have some fun. He told her just to go home and blow into the tail pipe really hard and all the dents would pop out. So, the blonde went home, got down on her hands and knees and started blowing into her tail pipe. Nothing happened. She blew a little harder and still nothing happened. Her roommate, also a blonde came home and said, "What are you doing?" The blonde told her how the repairman had instructed her to blow in the tailpipe in order to get all the dents to pop out. Her blonde roommate rolled her eyes and said, "Duh! Hello! You need to roll up the windows first!"
A man walks into a Silicon Valley pet store looking to buy a monkey. The store owner points towards three identical looking monkeys in politically correct, animal-friendly natural mini-habitats. "The one on the left costs $500," says the store owner. "Why so much?" asks the customer. "Because it can program in C," answers the store owner. The customer inquires about the next monkey and is told, "That one costs $1500. It knows Visual C++ and Object-Relational technology." The startled man then asks about the third monkey. "That one costs $3000," answers the store owner. "3000 dollars!!" exclaims the man. "What can that one do?" To which the owner replies, "To be honest, I've never seen it do a single thing, but it calls itself a Consultant."
A couple of items that have caught my eye this week.
Customs inspectors at California's Los Angeles International Airport asked to look in Robert John Cusack's suitcase when he arrived from Thailand. When an inspector opened the luggage, a bird flew out. Inspectors found four endangered birds and 50 protected orchids. "Do you have anything else you should tell us about?" they asked Cusack, 45. "Yes," he replied, "I've got monkeys in my pants." They found two pigmy monkeys "in a little pouch in his pants," said a special agent for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. "This was the only time where somebody's stuck monkeys down his pants. - It’s a good job they didn’t catch Wallace then.
A robber who broke into a bank and couldn’t find any cash grabbed a handful of sweets instead – and left a trail of wrappers to his home. Cops followed the papers – from candies called Dum-Dums - and arrested Michael Brown, 33, at his trailer park home. He now faces jail at Marked Tree in Arkansas. Officer Jerry Lung said, “It’s a classic”. - Hansel and Gretal eat your heart out.
A change to the usual agenda, this section will feature reviews on absolutely anything now. This week a review on two televised sporting events.
First up Southampton Vs Tottenham, Saturday evening. What a fucking nightmare, over the years I’ve seen some pretty bad Tottenham performances, and some total capitulations (most of them to Chelsea), but this managed to beat them. We were lucky to get nil, and lucky that the score wasn’t into double figures, every time they attacked it looked like they would score, If it had been a boxing match the trainer would have thrown the towel in long before the end, though it did appear that most of the players already had. I bet the 3 non-league teams are pulling their hair out in frustration, they could have drawn Tottenham, made lots of money and had a bye through to the next round.
Then on Sunday night I settled down to watch the San Francisco 49ers take on the New York Giants in a first round playoff match. It started off fine with the 49ers getting an early score, but it went downhill rapidly, by halftime it was 28-14 to the Giants, and within 5 minutes of the second half it was 38-14 and it looked like the 49ers couldn’t score in a brothel (in fact some of them would probably have difficulties window shopping Amsterdam style), and that they wouldn’t be able to stop the Giants scoring if they put up the Great Wall of China across the goal line. All the thoughts of the previous night’s capitulation came flooding back and I had visions of us getting a bigger tonking than the Giants gave us at the same stage in 1987 when they took us to pieces 49-3. BUT, what was this, Jeff Garcia suddenly remembered how to play and we got a score back, quickly followed by us stopping the Giants from even getting a first down. We were off and running, and a comeback was on the cards, then with only a minute left to play we took the lead 39-38. The Giants had a chance to score and blew it, the 49ers had won and completed the second best comeback victory of all time. Bring on the Buccaneers – Superbowl here we come.
For this weeks question seeing as I’ve been moved onto a football theme, which English player held the record for most goals scored in a European campaign (14 for QPR in 1977), until the total was beaten by Jurgen Klinsmann playing for Bayern Munich in 1996. This week’s prize is a year’s subscription to World Soccer.
…Continued from last week.
The hijacker came back down the plane towards him, looking directly at him all the time he as doing so. When the hijacker got level with him, he drew his gun and pointed it at him.
“On your feet”
He got up as slowly as he dared to. Once fully upright the hijacker’s arm reached out and grabbed him firmly by the upper arm and led him out into the aisle. He was then walked up the aisle to the cockpit, where he was left face to face with what seemed to be the head honcho of the hijackers.
“Good morning, I believe that you expressed to my colleague that you find something about this situation to be amusing. Whatever the reason may be for your amusement is not really a concern of mine. What is of concern is that if you manage to find something in this situation amusing, then it would suggest that you are either scared stupid, which it would seem from your response to my colleague you are not, or, you are not afraid. It is this second possibility that somewhat worries me. People who are not afraid are capable of doing unexpected things. When running a precision operation such as the one that I am currently undertaking, I don’t like the unexpected, in fact the unexpected makes me decidedly nervous, and when I get nervous, I tend to make rash decisions. Rash decisions can cause lives, and much as I wish the passengers on this plane no harm, as after all they are only victims of circumstance, I will not so much as bat an eyelid if I have to kill any of them.”
“Therefore in order to prevent the unexpected, and to keep myself from getting nervous, you are going to be secured in that seat there” he said gesturing to the seat at the front of the first class area on the left hand side.
“From there I shall be able to keep an eye on you, and being secured you won’t be able to get up to any mischief, and therefore you cannot be of any danger to yourself, or to the rest of the passengers. To begin with I have no intention of gagging you, however if you start shouting your mouth off, then you will be gagged.”
There was a pause then he continued “Have I made myself clear?”
“Perfectly” came the reply.
With this the sidekick moved the existing passenger out of the seat that had been indicated by the head honcho, and he was pushed into the seat. As if by magic, large amounts of rope appeared. God only knows where it had come from, but no sooner was he in the seat, then there it was. The sidekick proceeded to go about securing him into the seat. Within a couple of minutes he found each of his forearms secured to the seat’s armrests, he found further rope around his chest and upper arms securing his upper body to the back of the seat. His thighs were also bound to the base of the seat. He could move enough so that he wouldn’t seize up, but there wasn’t anywhere near enough slack for him to consider trying to work loose. There again he really wasn’t in the frame of mind to try and escape.
He silently cursed his misfortune at his predicament, and thought immediately to the bright side, at least he wasn’t dead. It was just another of those strange situations which he just seemed to manage to get caught up in. He looked across at the head honcho, who had his back to him, as he leant through the door of the cockpit, he then glanced at the sidekick, and felt that there was something missing. He sat and thought about it for a few moments until it struck him. Neither of the men was carrying any form of communications device. It had been some time since the pilot’s announcement and he had not seen or heard any form of message between the first and standard class. Were they that organised that they didn’t need to communicate? He thought about it some more, before giving up on it, it wasn’t really his concern, all he had to worry about was staying quiet, and therefore hopefully staying alive.
It was true what the head honcho had said, he didn’t feel afraid, but he didn’t know why. There was no one waiting for him, and apart from his clients, and a few associates no one would really miss him, but there were some things he wanted to find out before he died. He desperately wanted to talk to the two women who now sat a few rows behind him, as he felt sure each of them had something that he needed to know. Much as he wanted to talk to them it wasn’t going to happen in the near future, so he cleared the thought from his mind. He closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep, at least while asleep he couldn’t do anything stupid.
To be continued….
The international telephone dialling code for Antarctica is 672.
The glue on Israeli postage stamps is certified kosher.
Mel Blanc (the voice of Bugs Bunny) was allergic to carrots.
Why is lemon juice mostly artificial ingredients but dishwashing liquid contains real lemons?
Why doesn't Tarzan have a beard?
Should you trust a stockbroker who's married to a travel agent?
BVH (abbrev.).
Blue Veined Hooligan. A hard, six-inch tall, one-eyed, skinhead.
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Annual Table |
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Position |
Team |
Points |
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1st |
Relegated By Christmas |
1001 |
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2nd |
Free Transfer XI |
993 |
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3rd |
Shhoooooottt!!! |
992 |
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4th |
Bonus F.C. |
982 |
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5th |
The Cherokee Hair Tampons |
969 |
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6th |
And Sergei Rebrov Wins The Golden Boot |
952 |
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7th |
Heald Place Harriers |
918 |
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8th |
Nottingham Saints |
871 |
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9th |
SMB Arsenal |
857 |
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10th |
Steps Into Jansen's Ring |
855 |
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11th |
Wednesday Wannabes |
841 |
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12th |
Big Unit's Cherries |
826 |
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13th |
Geordies On Top |
798 |
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14th |
Cartman's Heroes |
796 |
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15th |
Premiership Rejects |
790 |
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16th |
Helen Chamberlain's Body Stocking |
789 |
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17th |
Maine Road 1923-2003 |
774 |
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18th |
Banjo Wielding Strikers |
701 |
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Upto and Including 8th January |
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The postbag is still loony, and there were absolutely shitloads of e-mails. Thankfully my new PA started on Monday, and it has to be said that she is exceeding the expectations raised by her application. The response to the Rex Appeal is still going quite well, with quite a few donations this week, and not all of them have been toothpaste money off vouchers. The grand total now stands at £485.16, 19 second & 16 First class stamps, 88 euros, $15.01, 10 drachma, 18 Yen, 217 Australian dollars, 5 Krugerands, 25 Luncheon Vouchers, £10 worth of Argos vouchers, £20 worth of Specsavers vouchers (quite thoughtful really considering Rex has 392 eyes) and £1420 worth of HMV money off vouchers, thanks to all those that have contributed, and please keep those donations rolling in. We are also awaiting a tax refund on all materials used so far in the Rex appeal.
Unfortunately there has been no update on where Rex may be, though it does seem that, you, the readers have been increasing your efforts to raise awareness of the predicament.
Just going to prove my final point of my apology to the Germans last week, my solicitors have received further correspondence from the German embassy, demanding the shutting down of Surerandomality. Fortunately my solicitors have told them where to stick the demand as their attempts to stop publication in this country are spurious, not genuine and worth… fac all. I have however, been informed that they are pulling out all the stops to get Surerandomality banned in Germany, and have been lobbying the Governments of Switzerland, Luxembourg, Austria, Belgium and France to do the same. All I can say to those governments is to stand firm, don’t let the fucking nazi’s tell you what do, think for yourselves.
I did say when I published Sidney Unit’s letter last week that I was in danger of reopening old wounds, well it would appear that I wasn’t fucking joking, in addition to opening old wounds, I’ve managed to open a shitload of new ones as well. John Barton from Redcar, Cleveland, and Toni Cheviot from Stone, Staffordshire, the writers of the letters that kicked off the whole Redcar / Staffordshire debate, both wrote in condemning Mr Unit. Furthermore, Miss Donna Keybab of Rhyl, Clwyd writes “Who the fuck does this Sidney Unit think he is, he goes about the country from place to place, not settling anywhere, just like a pikey, and let me tell you, I hate fucking pikeys. Then he has the nerve to say that anywhere he’s been is not fit for human habitation, has he ever considered that it’s him that’s not actually fit to be a art of the human race.” Mr Maurice Mantovani of Morecambe, Lancashire writes “Mr Sidney Unit, obviously has some problems that he needs to deal with, as it would appear he is incapable of telling just what is a quality living environment. I certainly speak for all the residents of Morecambe, and I’m sure most of the visitors, that it is the top place to live”. Well I wouldn’t go that far (and it’s not that far to Morecambe from where I live). Mrs Phyllis Fircombe of Lowestoft, Suffolk writes “I’d rather live in Suffolk any day of the week, than be a pompous little prick, living with my nose stuck up at everything living in a tin pot town in Oxfordshire.” Mr Dean Brown of St. Austell, Cornwall writes “Sidney Unit, kiss my big fat hairy arse, you toffee nosed excuse for a member of the human race. I’m glad you don’t like St. Austell, at least it means that we never have to put up with a dumb shit like you living here, I just feel sorry for the poor people of Abingdon.” Finally on the subject (for this week, I might let this go another couple of weeks) Mrs Doris Barratt of Kirkby Bellars, Leicestershire writes “I am now 92 years old and have travelled the length and breadth of the country and must say that young Sidney Unit’s views are not accurate at all, none of the places mentioned are that bad at all, and certainly no worse that the boring hole of Abingdon that he writes from. I suggest that if he really wanted to find somewhere bad he should go to Dudley!”
With regards to the plea from BigShakyCross@Hotmail.com I can say that I’ve had no response from Andy Wallace, but I have had confirmation from several others confirming that he was actually in Hawaii at the right time, therefore I am sending on his e-mail address to you. Good luck.
I also received correspondence from Mark Richards of Manchester, bemoaning the write up of last week’s events. He writes “ I can’t believe that you didn’t mention that I had my Spunk Passport stamped, and that there was nothing better than a passing comment about the monumental achievement in finishing The Getaway. – Signed ‘Ammond.” Well they’re mentioned now, though I do have difficulties with your obsession about being a character from a computer game.
Well, Tuesday sees me down in King’s Lynn for Mr. Perrin’s court case for mail bombing, it has to be said that I am quite looking forward to seeing just what the twat looks like and seeing him sent down.
What’s going on? How the fuck would I know? Haven't seen the housemates to talk to >since Sunday and no idea what has been planned for the weekend. All I know is that Little Mark is due up at the weekend, and boy is he in for a shock, as the members of Chez Didsbury’s drinking habit have changed out of all recognition, and he may think that he’s arrived on a parallel universe. I can’t rule out drinking altogether (except for Squirrel and his new year’s resolution), and I would imagine that there will be a curry call. Sunday brings about another Tottenham / 49ers double bill so no doubts about where I’ll be. It’s Becky’s birthday on Monday, and if she’s out of hospital then there will be a birthday lunch as Vicky is up for the weekend as well. Apart from that then your guess is as good as mine, but saying that mine is about as much use as a mystic Meg Sunday magazine prediction. Whatever happens catch it here next week if you want to stay Mr current affairs. See y’all next week.