The next major event has been confirmed for Friday 6^th June, for the second Surerandomality night out. Starting point and itinerary have been tentively arranged and details can be found in the introduction.

After that we move on to Saturday 14^th June, and it is the first ever Chez Didsbury Sports Day, Barbeque, Disco and late night drinking session, so clear your diaries, hone your Frisbee, football and saucepan throwing skills, get your sleeping bags aired and bring plenty of alcohol.

Congratulations to Karen, who managed to retain the blonde of the week award, and in so doing becomes the first person to do so apart from Blondie.

A reward is being offered to find the fucking bitch that nicked Squirrel’s legendary sunglasses. If anyone has any information then let me know or ring the Squirrel hotline.

Another week, and more random shit from the happy and not so happy, and those happy not to be happy readers of Surerandomality. What is it with you lot and goats this week, I’ve had at least a dozen letters with goat stories, after never having anything to do with goats before. And after reading them, I think I will declare Surerandomality a goat free zone, oh and by the way, Mr Higgins, I have passed your details over to the relevant authorities.

After comments from Mrs Mace, that appeared in last week’s issue, I have had a barrage of letters defending my random reviewing, plus a number suggesting that sponsorship is the way forward. In fact Mr Keith Schwedt, from Cheltenham, Gloucestershire, probably sums it up best, writing, "I think that while Mrs Mace may not have been on the mark, with the fact that you are receiving money for reviews, it may well be the case that this could be the way forward for you. You could charge artists or companies to review their music or films. Not only that, but surely there is a market out there for you to have each issue sponsored. As each issue has a different name, the name could be sold off each month." What a tip top idea, just think future issues such as Surerandomality The Pepsi Max Big One. So if there are any advertising execs or PR people out there in readership land, then get in contact and make me an offer.

There have been some more letters regarding the fantasy football, and the general consensus is that I have not fixed the league, and that the other owners, should stop whining like babies on a bad case of sour grapes. All I’ve got to say further on the matter is that the final table has been issued and it is patently obvious from this that I have not won the league, and it would have been virtually impossible for me to have won it after the last weekend of fixtures, with only the cup final left.

Quite a few readers have written in to agree with Mrs Erskine (from last week’s letters) in saying that they think that the choice of charities for the dispersal of funds from the rex appeal, are either taking the piss, or are, at the best are inappropriately chosen, considering the demise of Rex. Others wrote in to say that it didn’t matter whether they were registered charities or not, they still don’t sound suitable. Some have written to say that it doesn’t matter where the money goes, as long as the readers have got a say in where it goes. It does need to be pointed out that the charities that you have the chance to vote on, were sent in by readers, and they were in my opinion the most suitable of those suggested.

Furthermore on the subject of Rex, there have been some queries about the location for the memorial service. A Mr J Cramphorn, from Leicester, writes, "I live just round the corner form the planned location for the Rex memorial service, and can’t imagine a less hospitable place to hold it. There’s little or no parking anywhere nearby, and the chances of your car being broken into is quite high. Not only that but the Kingdom hall is a dingy little building, and I can’t imagine that there can be that much room in there for a large congregation." Thanks for voicing your concerns, but I can assure you all that the venue is perfectly fine for the occasion, and that vehicles are safe in this area. In response to the demand, I am planning on getting the map for the local area on the website as soon as possible, though I am going to have to trust that you should all be able to find Leicester.

Mr Perrin, it would appear is actually returned to some semblance of normality, and instead of the reams of paper I normally get, I have had only a short note this week, and it reads, "So the biblical scholars mis-translated the Hebrew word for "young woman" into the Greek word for "virgin," which was a pretty easy mistake to make, since there is only a subtle difference in the spelling. But back then it was the "virgin" that caught people's attention. It's not every day a virgin conceives and bears a son. So you keep that for a couple of hundred years, and the next thing you know, you have the Roman Catholic Church." Come again, did you understand a single word of what he just said? No nor did I.

That's it for the letters for this week, BUT there will be more next week. BUT, only if you’re lucky.

An item that caught my eye this week, shows just what great thinkers the Americans are.

Here are the winning entries from a recent contest for "new scientific theories."

THE RUNNERS-UP:

4th Runner-Up-- The earth may spin faster on its axis due to deforestation. Just as a figure skater's rate of spin increases when the arms are brought in close to the body, the cutting of tall trees may cause our planet to spin dangerously fast.

3rd Runner-Up- Communist China is technologically underdeveloped because they have no alphabet. The lack of an alphabet means the Chinese cannot use "acronyms"; thus, they cannot communicate their ideas at a faster rate.

2nd Runner-Up- The 'Why Yawning Is Contagious' Theory: You yawn to equalize the pressure on your eardrums. This pressure change outside your eardrums unbalances other people's ear pressures, so they must yawn to even it all out.

1st Runner-Up- If an infinite number of rednecks riding in an infinite number of pickup trucks fire an infinite number of shotgun rounds at an infinite number of highway signs, they will eventually produce all the world's great literary works in Braille.

HONOURABLE MENTION: The quantity of consonants in the English language is absolutely constant. If consonants are omitted in one geographic area, they turn up in another. When a Bostonian "pahks" his "cah", the lost r's migrate southwest, causing a Texan to "warsh" his car and invest in "erl wells."

GRAND PRIZE WINNER: When a cat is dropped, it ALWAYS lands on its feet; and when toast is dropped, it ALWAYS lands with the buttered side facing down. Therefore, I propose to strap buttered toast to the back of a cat. When dropped, the two will hover, spinning inches above the ground, probably into eternity. A "buttered-cat array" could replace pneumatic tires on cars and trucks, and "giant buttered-cat arrays" could easily allow a high-speed monorail linking New York with Chicago.

Thursday night, it got very messy. That was the prediction from last week’s issue. How little did I know, and although the borderline was run it didn’t quite descend into the realms of two weeks before. G Man’s outstanding luck and resilience at work finally ran out, when he was called into the office by the Aussie BQFH that masqueraded as his boss, and was handed his marching orders for his dedication to slacking. The evening saw Squirrel and G Man take a short train journey to Deansgate Locks and into Baa Bar, where they weren’t the only black sheep there, as Howard Marks was sat in there drinking. With a shooter menu longer than that of Scubar, and bottles of Stella for only a quid, there was great potential for things to get messy quickly. But the arrival of Sophie and Becky (yes folks, yet another Becky) did calm things somewhat, and they were able to get out, in a better shape than expected. It wouldn’t have been a Thursday night without a visit to 5^th Ave, where the all drinks a pound should have kicked in, but strangely didn’t. Sophie and Becky found that 5^th Ave wasn’t really their scene, and Squirrel and G Man left them for the dance floor as the first strains of out of space were heard. Mad dancing didn’t last long, as within thirty seconds Squirrel had slipped and hit the floor hard, damaging his knee, and taken out some random female in the process. The injury didn’t stop him dancing, and at some stage Sophie came onto the dance floor and led G Man away to a cosy corner somewhere. Some silly bitch nicked Squirrels sunglasses, which led to more drinking. On closing Squirrel and G Man got a bus to Fallowfield for kebabs, after Sophie and Becky had got a taxi. On arrival back at Chez Didsbury, a brief rendition of Gold was considered appropriate to celebrate their arrival home (after a Squirrel rendition of Straight Outta Compton on the bus to ward off scallys). Ricky Organ was still up and joined them in emptying the baby and making as much noise as possible before heading off to bed in the early (or should that be late) hours.

Friday saw Squirrel struggling to walk after the alcoholic anaesthetic wore off and the full extent of knee damage was found out. The evening saw very little being done, except lounging and watching Tarentino films.

Saturday saw FA Cup final day, and first in the pub were Wes, Emily and Nat. Eventually Squirrel finally managed to pry G Man and Ricky Organ out into the rain (though both had to bring umbrellas) and they were the next to arrive. Melvin arrived just before kick-off, and then Bruce, with shaved head and attempted goatee, turned up during the match, but left just after the final whistle. At about seven (ish) everyone left, which included Esther who had arrived at some stage, moved over to the Orange Grove to play pool. Things got hazy from this point, and G Man and Esther disappeared back off to Chez Didsbury fairly early. Ricky Organ took a short flight across the room, courtesy of a hip toss from Squirrel. Melvin decided to lose the plot and started calling everyone cocks, and then had a go at Emily, at which point Wes had to step in and threaten him, and Melvin and Ricky Organ left not long afterwards. On the way back to Chez Didsbury they nearly got involved in fights twice, once with a car full of scallys that they were baiting, and then with a taxi driver that Ricky Organ was poking with his umbrella. Everyone else left the Orange Grove, leaving Squirrel asleep in the corner, when he woke up, he finished all available drinks, and moved over to XS, where it seems, somewhat surprisingly, that they have a dress code!! No jogging bottoms allowed. Unperturbed by this Squirrel went in anyway, where he bumped into Becky and Vic, and had another nap, before being woken up by Becky as she was leaving. Food and a bus home followed.

Sunday morning saw Squirrel get up at the ungodly hour of 8, and was shortly joined by G Man and Esther (who someone reckons is from Kentucky!?). One by one the residents got up and just sat watching MTV, the last to rise was Ricky Organ, who looked rough as fuck after the previous night. Esther left just after midday, and while G Man was cooking breakfast it was mentioned to Ricky Organ that the paper had had a cup winners supplement in. This had already been hidden to prevent him gloating about the fucking north London red scum winning. Squirrel, G Man, Hopalong and Ricky Organ took a trip to the Trafford centre after the GP, and then settled at home for an evening of film watching. During the evening Ricky Organ became more and more agitated about the missing supplement, and whined continuously for it to be given to him. Then after one of Squirrel’s special chilli’s, he became more childish, and kept changing the channel while Melvin, G Man and Squirrel were trying to watch a film, before completely throwing his toys out of his pram, and removing the main fuse from the fuse box, thus cutting power to the house, and continuing to whine about the supplements whereabouts, whilst prodding people with a golf club. Squirrel point blank refused to tell him, G Man got his guitar and started playing, Hopalong and Mary nicked his passport, and all refused to give into his childish attempt at terrorist tactics, and after nearly an hour he put the fuse back in, only to find that Squirrel still wouldn’t tell him where it was.

Monday saw Ricky Organ off on another work trip, this time to Prague, and Melvin moved out of Chez Didsbury, and into a flat in Alderley Edge. G Man has been job hunting all week, Hopalong had Tuesday and Wednesday as study leave for accounting exams that he took on Thursday, and he was going out that night to celebrate Mary’s birthday which had been the day before. The week had seen lots of films, and a fair bit of football watched, and lots of lounging around, which was greatly appreciated after such a quiet weekend.

The grand total for the appeal finally stands at £691.79, 12 Guinea, 58 second & 51 First class stamps, 202 euros, $39.99, 9 Irish Punt, 12 drachma, 71 French Francs, 23 Swiss Francs, 34 Belgium Francs, 1756 Andorran Pesetas, 44 Yen, 301 Australian dollars, 666,666 Italian Lira, 2,056,179 Turkish Lira, 7 Krugerands, 28 Luncheon Vouchers, 124 Green Shield Stamps, £221.50 in postal orders, 14 Esso tokens, £30 worth of Circus Casino (Viva Las Vegas) chips, 71,000 WH Smith club card points, 18,000 Nectar points, 4 Car wash tokens, 5 Milk Tokens, £15 worth of Argos vouchers, £2.50 worth of Mothercare vouchers, £20 worth of Specsavers vouchers and £1420 worth of out of date HMV money off vouchers, thanks to all those that have contributed, and please No more contributions, as some of the less intelligent of you out there may have found out by now, they will be returned.

The dispersal of the remaining funds is now the major concern. It is only fair to let, you the readers (and contributors) decide which good cause we should donate the remaining funds from the Rex appeal to. I have narrowed the list down to five suitable candidates, and over the next couple of weeks, I shall be letting the dedicated fans of Rex, and the general public vote on where the funds should be sent to. The five candidates are, 1. The royal society for the prevention of damage to natural water hazards on golf courses. 2. The golf ball historical society. 3. The international museum of green rollers. 4. The golfers with Alzheimer's hospice, and 5. The Mango protection alliance. The votes have started to come flooding in this week, and each of the five choices have the following votes respectively; 45, 74, 36, 61, 73. I’ve decided to let the votes come in until the end of May, (i.e. you’ve got two more weeks), and to then give the final results in the first issue in June, just before the second Surerandomality night out.

Remember that the time, date and location has been sorted for the Rex Memorial service. It's going to be held on Sunday, 29^th June 2003, and it's going to be held at the Checketts Road Kingdom Hall in Leicester. If those of you interested in coming, that need directions, you can e-mail the Surerandomality offices, but the chance of a speedy reply is spurious, not genuine and worth fac all. The best thing to do would be to go to streepmap.co.uk and put a search in on that. A word of warning, get there early, as parking can be a right facing nightmare on a Sunday afternoon, as all the local pensioners are already parked all around, while they attend the next door Working's Men Club, for their traditional Sunday afternoon whist drive. Nearly forgot, the time will be 4.30pm.

As the plane descended, he spent his time leaning over as far as his binds would let him, so that he could look out of the window as best as he could. At first all he could really see was the ocean, but as they moved on, he could make out the start of the land.

God alone knew why they called this particular land mass Greenland, much as he tried, he was certain that he couldn’t see even the slightest bit of green anywhere. All he could see was masses of white, with the occasional bit of grey, where rock jutted out from beneath the cover of the snow and ice. In time he thought he saw buildings, and even they seemed white, and as he watched the land coming to meet the descending plane, he involuntarily shivered, and his mind was cast back to five years before.

His mind had him back in that all white room, with no discernable size or shape, he could see the mystery woman on the next bed / table to him, and then four more men further along in the room. He tried to picture their faces but he couldn’t seem to be able to pick out any recognisable features about them, and wondered whether that was because of the time lapse since then, and the fact that he had never seen any of them since, or whether it was because they were all so non descript from the distance he had seen them, that they wouldn’t be remembered. Something about that set alarm bells ringing in his mind, and he wondered why. What was it about being non descript was it that caused him to shudder.

His thoughts came back to the present and as he looked he could see what appeared to be an airport, or at the very least an airstrip. He strained to get a good view, and he could definitely see a long strip of tarmac, with it’s blackness contrasting boldly with the surrounding landscape of almost blinding white.

He looked around the cabin, and saw that everyone was belted in for landing, with the exception of the head honcho, who was stood in the doorway of the entrance to the cockpit, with his back to him, but seemingly alert, moving his head from side to side on a regular basis, so that he could see the pilots at work, and watch the mood of the passengers. As he looked around he couldn’t see the other hijacker that had been in the first class cabin, but that wasn’t to say that he wasn’t there. For all he knew the hijacker could have been sat in his original seat, and he’d never have been able to have seen him, with him being tied up like he was.

He looked out of the window again, and was surprised that the plane was almost on the runway. Within seconds there was the bump of the rear wheels hitting the tarmac, and then the secondary bump of the front wheels touching down. He felt himself leaning forward slightly as the braking effect took, hold, and within thirty seconds they had come to a complete halt. He looked out of the window, and was surprised to see that the tarmac seemed to stretch on for a good distance in front of them. So much for sliding off into the icy wastes.

He watched in some surprise as the steps were brought across the airstrip to the plane. It would appear that the whole of the ground crew was dressed in the same clothes as the hijackers, jeans and polo shirts, with the only difference being that they all wore hooded parkas and sun glasses. He shivered involuntary again, and wondered what was waiting for him once they got off the plane, always assuming that they ever did.

When the University of Nebraska Cornhuskers play football at home, the stadium becomes the state's third largest city

Duelling is legal in Paraguay as long as both parties are registered blood donors

The characters Bert and Ernie on Sesame Street were named after Bert the cop and Ernie the taxi driver in Frank Capra's "Its A Wonderful Life"

Time may be a great healer, but it's also a lousy beautician.

Never be afraid to try something new. Remember, amateurs built the ark. Professionals built the Titanic.

Talk is cheap because supply exceeds demand.

BQFH (abbrev).

Bitch Queen From Hell. Female figure, normally found in authority, or possession of one of your mates. Known best for making Genghis Khan look like a kindergarden teacher. Temperament of a Bunny Boiler with permanent PMT.

Two doctors opened an office in a small town. They put up a sign reading: "Dr Smith and Dr Jones, Psychiatry and Proctology." The town council was not too happy with the sign, so the doctors changed it to: "Hysterias and Posteriors." This was not acceptable either, so in an effort to satisfy the council, they changed the sign to: "Schizoids and Haemorrhoids." No go! Next they tried "Catatonics and Colonics" Thumbs down again. Then came, "Manic-Depressives and Anal-Retentives." But is was still not good! So they tried: "Minds and Behinds" "Analysis and Anal Cysts" "Nuts and Butts" "Freaks and Cheeks" "Loons and Moons" "Lost Souls and Ass Holes" None worked. Almost at their wits' end, the doctors finally came up with a title they thought might be accepted by the council: "Dr Smith and Dr Jones, Odds and Ends." APPROVED!

An elderly couple had dinner at another couple's house and after eating, the wives left the table and went into the kitchen. The two elderly gentlemen were talking, and one said, "Last night we went out to a new restaurant, and it was really great. I would recommend it very highly." The other man said, "What's the name of the restaurant?" The first man knits his brow in obvious concentration, and finally says to his companion, "Aahh, what is the name of that red flower you give to someone you love?" His friend replies, "A Carnation?" "No. No. The other one" the man says. His friend offers another suggestion, "The Poppy?" "Nahhhh," growls the man, "You know the one that is red and has thorns." His friend says, "Do you mean a rose?" "Yes, Yes that's it. Thank you!" the first man says. He then turns toward the kitchen and yells, "Rose, what's the name of that restaurant we went to last night?

Once upon a time, two little boys, Sammy and Tim, were sharing a room in the hospital. As they were getting to know each other a little bit, Sammy eventually asked Tim, Hey Tim, what're you in for? I'm getting my tonsils out -- I'm a little worried, said Tim. Oh don't worry about it. I had my tonsils out and it was a blast! I got to eat all the ice cream and jello I wanted for two weeks! Oh yeah?'' replied Tim. That's not half-bad. Hey, Sammy, how about you? What're you here for? I'm getting a circumcision, whatever that is, Sammy answered. Oh my god, circumcision I got one of those when I was a baby and I couldn't walk for two years!

This drunk gets on a bus and asks the driver how long the trip is between Limerick and Cork. "About two hours," says the conductor. "OK," says the drunk "then how long is the trip between Cork and Limerick?" The irate driver says to the drunk "It's still about two hours. Why'd you think there'd be a difference?" "Well," says the drunk, "It's only a week between Christmas and New Year, but it's a awful long time between New Year and Christmas!"

A Lawyer is driving in his limousine when he sees two men eating grass. He tells the driver to stop and then he gets out and asks one of the men why he is eating grass. The man replies that they can't afford food so they have to eat grass. The Lawyer tells the men to get in the limousine. Inside the limo, the two men thank the lawyer and he replies, "No problem, the grass in the back of my house is at least a foot long."

"A man went to see his doctor. He asked 'Doctor, every morning when I get up and look in the mirror I feel like throwing up; What's wrong with me?' The doctor said ... 'I don't know but your eyesight is perfect'."

The photographer for a national magazine was assigned to get photos of a great forest fire. Smoke at the scene was too thick to get any good shots, so he frantically called his home office to hire a plane. "It will be waiting for you at the airport!" he was assured by his editor. As soon as he got to the small, rural airport, sure enough, a plane was warming up near the runway. He jumped in with his equipment and yelled, "Let's go! Let's go!" The pilot swung the plane into the wind and soon they were in the air. "Fly over the north side of the fire," said the photographer, "and make three or four low level passes." "Why?" asked the pilot. "Because I'm going to take pictures! I'm a photographer, and photographers take pictures!" said the photographer with great exasperation and impatience. After a long pause the pilot said, "You mean you're not the instructor?"

An elephant and a crocodile were swimming in the Amazon, when the elephant spots a turtle sunning himself on a rock. The elephant walks over to the turtle, picks him up in his trunk and hurls him far into the jungle. "What did you do that for?" Asks the crocodile. The elephant answers, "That turtle was the one that bit me almost fifty years ago." The crocodile says, "And you remembered him after all these years? Boy, you sure do have a good memory." "Yep," says the elephant. "Turtle recall."

An Irishman, a Romanian and a Nigerian are in a bar one night, having a beer. All of a sudden the Romanian downs his beer, throws his glass in the air, pulls out a gun and shoots the glass to pieces and says: "In Romania our glasses are so cheap that we don't need to drink from the same one twice." The Nigerian, obviously impressed by this, drinks his beer, throws his glass into the air, pulls out his gun and shoots the glass to pieces and says: "Well mate, in Nigeria we have so much sand to make the glasses that we don't need to drink out of the same glass twice either." The Irishman, cool as a cucumber, picks up his beer and drinks it, throws his glass into the air, pulls out his gun, shoots the Romanian and the Nigerian and then says: "In Dublin we have so many fucking Romanians and Nigerians that we don't need to drink with the same ones twice."

A group of chess enthusiasts checked into a hotel and were standing in the lobby discussing their recent tournament victories. After about an hour, the manager came out of the office and asked them to disperse. "But why?" they asked, as they moved off. "Because," he said "I can't stand chess nuts boasting in an open foyer."

Peace and tranquillity should follow everyone this weekend, or at least that’s the plan. A quiet weekend at Chez Didsbury, doing as little as possible, apart from watching the three playoff finals. By all accounts Ricky Organ is back from Prague on Saturday or Sunday, and after everyone enjoys an extra day off with it being the bank holiday Monday again, he’s then off to Chicago on Tuesday for about a week. Basically it’s going to be a recharge weekend before June arrives. But, saying that, we’ve seen promises of quiet weekends before, and how they can get messy quickly, so it’s gonna be a case of wait and see. See y’all next week.

Here’s this week’s random reviews

Kebabs, come in all shapes, sizes, and a number of varieties. Normally the food of champions after a hard day / night drinking, but can be enjoyed from the right places at any time of day. Of course everyone has their favourites, whether it’s the good old doner, with mango chutney in a pitta bread, or with everything on in a nan. Or a seek kebab with salt and lemon, or the mix chicken and lamb shish. It always seems a good idea at the time, though may not be so good for the living environment the next day. So go on, you know you want one, get a kebab today. (They even do veg kebabs for those non meat eaters) Highly recommended that you check out one of the four Abdul’s, definitely the top kebabs.

First the answer from last week. The B29 Superfortress is manufactured by Boeing, and last week’s winner is Miss Helen Pickering, from Rugby in Warwickshire, who wins the Escape from Colditz board game.

For this week’s competition, all I want to know is how much would Half a Crown be worth in today’s money (post decimalization) in pence. Answers to the normal addresses through the normal channels, and the first correct answer drawn out of the Surerandomality hat next Wednesday afternoon, wins a collectors edition set of pre decimalization coins in a presentation box.

TOTAL = 12

CUMMILATIVE TOTAL = 392