Blonde of the week was won by The Chemist for the first time ever, and for the simple reason that no one else made much of an effort, and The Chemist said more dumb shit than you could think possible.

Keep your eyes peeled for special announcements regarding plans for the first birthday of Surerandomality.

Congratulations to Hopalong who celebrates his 25^th Birthday on Sunday.

Definitely a more varied post bag this week without the entire overload of fantasy football entries. The only trouble being that there was no fucking post on Monday, something to do with it being a bank holiday. God only knows how we get anything done in this country. Anyway time is short so without any further random blather from me, here it is, the random rubbish publishing company. (formerly known as the letters page)

A Deirdre Riggott from Esher, Surrey, writes. "it definitely takes longer than a week to count to a million, I've been counting non stop since I got last weeks' issue and I've only got to just over four hundred thousand. (well four hundred and seven thousand, five hundred and twelve to be exact). It's getting harder to keep count the higher the numbers get. I'll let you know when I get there." Gee, thanks, just one question though. Why don't you get a fucking life?

Mike Gerrard, from Chelmsford, Essex, writes "There is a good reason that bags and boxes of Malteasers taste different, it's cos they come from different countries." Hold on, didn't I say that I didn't fucking care about why the fuck different malteasers tasted different. So what do you excuses for mental deficients do? Write in and tell me. Fuck off.

Someone from Jakarta, Indonesia writes, " U kan mij Susan roepen indien het u gelukkig maakt. Ik krijg heartburn. Tony doe, iets verschrikkelijk. Geen Tommy. Er is een vuurwapen in je broek. Wat doet een vuurwapen in je broek? Geen dank u Turks; ik ben zoet genoeg. Hebt u een woord begrepen van wat hij net zegde?!" Now whatever they may be claiming, their claims are spurious, not geniune and worth fuck all.

Meanwhile a Jacques Henry from Martinique in the Caribbean writes, " Vous pouvez m'appeler Susan s'il vous fait heureux. Je reçois la brûlure d'estomac. Tony, quelque chose terrible. Non, Tommy. Il y a un fusil dans votre pantalon. Qu'un fusil fait-il dans votre pantalon? Non merci, Turcs; je suis assez doux. Vous avez compris un mot de ce qu'il vient de dire?." Did you understand a single word of what they've just said? No don't answer it was a rhetorical question.

I got this next one from a D. Beckham in Madrid, Spain, it wasn't addressed to Surerandomality, but I'd thought I'd print it anyway, so here goes, "Dear Gary, Hope you are well and Phil liked the wicker donkeys I sent. Lots of people have been offering to help me out with the language, but Victoria says my English is fine as it is. Everyone has been really friendly and the lads have got a great sense of humour, just like at United. Luis Figo's the funniest - every time he sees me he says: "I'm going to break your legs, pretty boy!" Keano would love it here. It's nice to see Stevie again. He said to me only yesterday "I'm really looking forward to helping you settle in. I've got you a nice spot next to me on the bench". He says he's got all sorts of training games we can play together, like snap, dominoes and ludo but I think I'll be too busy with the football. Victoria is very happy here already. We was listening to the radio the other morning and the current Spanish Number One came on. It's called "Plinky Plinky Techno Happy Plinky Plinky Bot Bot". Victoria reckons she can come up with something every bit as good. You might have seen in the papers that they're going to let me share the free kicks with a bloke called Robert O'Carlos. Will you ask Keano if he remembers him from his Ireland days? Luis says even though this O'Carlos bloke can bend the ball really well, I'll still be the biggest bender at the club. Which was nice of him. Anyway, hope you and the lads are enjoying the preparations for the season ahead. See you in the quarter-finals! David." Somehow I don't think this bloke is exactly Mr Current Affairs.

Not content with bombarding us with mail, Mr Perrin turned up outside the office everyday this week begging for a job. I have to say I admire his persistence and general fortitude, however he's still not getting a job. It has to be said that he seems to be able to find the office with greater success than either Kim or Ethel, as there is normally once a week where I have to go out and lead them back to the office. Perhaps that might be a job for Mr Perrin, he could start to be a guide, to help people to the Surerandomality offices.

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

A couple of items that caught my eye this week

A survey in Australia finds more than 70 percent of men and 65 percent of women are fed up with political correctness and having to tiptoe around sensitive people's hot buttons. "People are sick and tired of having to call manhole covers 'inspection pits'," says Australian commentator David Chalk. "To the pushers of political correctness, people are just saying, 'They've had their go, now bugger them'," he says. - Granted political correctness has got out of hand a bit, but that's a bit harsh.

The Canadian Tourism Commission contracted with U.S.-based Fodor's Travel Guides to create PureCanada, a magazine designed to lure Americans over the border to the Great White North. "It's unfortunate that there were a few things that slipped through," says Commission spokeswoman Isabelle Des Chenes. Such as? The maps in the 185-page publication omit Halifax, Prince Edward Island and Yukon Territory. Some provinces are mislabeled or misspelled, and some major tourist regions are ignored completely, among other errors. - There's a surprise the Yanks have taken the jam out of the Canadian's doughnuts. But honestly, fancy asking the Yanks for any kind of directions, they have difficulties finding their arse with both hands, it's like they developed their sense of direction from the Chemist.

1. Smokey Robinson & the Miracles - Tears of a Clown
2. Surfaris - Wipeout
3. The Jam - A Town Called Malice
4. Kenny Loggins - Footloose
5. Rob Base & DJ E-Z Rock - It Takes Two
6. The Sugarhill Gang - Rappers Delight
7. The Style Council - A Solid Bond in Your Heart
8. Nirvana - Smells Like Teen Spirit
9. Psychedlic Furs - Pretty in Pink
10. The Blapps Posse - Don't Hold Back

Friday night did not see a straight to the pub venture, for quite possibly the first time in living memory. However the temptation to drink was too much to resist and by the time it got to eight the raping of the baby in Chez Didsbury was well underway. Squirrel and Hopalong moved to the Parrswood to play pool, and after a few pints headed into Fallowfield and the usual pissed end location of XS. Once in XS lots of Stella's, reefs and other drinks flowed, along with dancing and talking to the locals. By kicking out time Squirrel was asleep on the comfy sofas and therefore missed the all action brawl that was taking place outside. After waking up he headed to Abdul's for kebabs with Hopalong, but when the bloodied victims came in to get kebabs Hopalong headed home, and Squirrel did likewise once he'd finished eating to arrive back at Chez Didsbury just behind Hopalong and to fall asleep on the Sofa, until waking at half seven in a dazed state and wandering off to bed.

Saturday saw Ricky Organ off to Cork for the weekend, and Amanda had come up to see G Man. Hopalong and the Chemist had watched the football in the morning, been to the bookies and were settled down for the afternoon by the time that Squirrel emerged from his pit. Despite lack of food they started on the baby again, until it was time to scrape themselves out of the chairs and back to the Parrswood to play pool again. The Chemist headed home before eleven again, but not before producing a toxic gas alert, that was an indication of the remains of a small dead mammal, and despite everything Squirrel and Hopalong didn't have the common sense to go home as well. Instead they got a taxi to Jabez. At this point Hopalong did have the good idea of stopping drinking, but it didn't prevent a bit of follow through and the loss of his boxers because of it, (am I glad that I don't have that job at Jabez). Squirrel was thwarted while things were looking good by an untimely arrival of a guard dog, and later managed to find Hopalong just before closing time. Despite various requests there were no takers to go for a curry, and despite good Chinese torture work, there were also no takers for the Chez Didsbury late bar experience. Therefore kebabs were in order before arriving back home just after four.

Sunday saw more football watching, and a general apathy to do anything that might involve the slightest amount of movement, however, there was a brief journey into the estate for a small barbecue, before settling down to a night of random shit viewing. Bank holiday Monday brought movement by Hopalong and the Chemist to the Trafford centre, and somewhat more surprisingly to the gym. G Man and Amanda headed for a random trip around north Wales taking in Llandudno and Betsy Cowd. Meanwhile Squirrel did absolutely, positively fuck all, so no surprise there. Tuesday saw suffering back to work for everyone (except holiday boy Ricky Organ who was still in Ireland), and the evening saw more lounging in front of the telly and darts. Wednesday saw G Man off to Old Trafford with various other G Family members, while Hopalong was off to his CIMA course, and the rest of Chez Didsbury went to play five a side, and somewhat unsurprisingly things got messy from this point. Hopalong came straight out of his lecture and into the Springbok to watch the end of the football, and by the time G Man had joined him, he'd got a tab going. From Springbok they headed to Teasers, where Hopalong managed to have a discussion with the manager over paying by credit card. After being told that they don't take credit cards, he piped up, "What, so we get them for free then?" The drinks were confiscated until he could get to the cashpoint and back. Upon leaving Teasers at chucking out time they got in a taxi, however as the taxi rounded the corner into Portland Street they spied the Casino (Viva Las Vegas) and ordered the taxi to stop. They jumped out and ran into the casino (Viva Las Vegas), but in doing so Hopalong managed to leave his rucksack, with all his CIMA notes and books he'd just got that night, and his mini disc player in it. Things didn't improve once in the casino (Viva Las Vegas), and they came out to get a taxi home with Hopalong £250 down, and arrived back at Chez Didsbury just after 3. Thursday saw very little movement, with recovery on the agenda, with the Hopalong birthday weekend on the horizon, with just Ricky Organ out, after returning from Ireland the night before.

What he had previously thought was the head hijacker, but who it had turned out was only in charge of this particular plane and was in fact a lackey to some other mastermind, came over to him.

"Right then, it is time to untie you so that you can leave the plane with the rest of the chosen passengers. It goes without saying that what I said over the tannoy stands, if you cause any trouble you will be shot, despite the fact that you are a chosen one. What does it feel like to be wanted?"

"Strangely predictable."

"What do you mean?"

"It's been one of those days when everything has been too coincidental for there to be anything but a greater force at work, there's been a sense of dread, and imposing doom as soon as you came on the scene. However it's all mixed up with a sense that I'm going to find out a great deal I want and need to know."

The Hijacker grinned, and as he untied him, said "That explains how you've managed to be the calmest person on board, and yet at the same time been the one passenger in the biggest danger of getting themselves killed before their time." The Hijacker finished untying him, and stepped away. "Up you get then, and please just get off the plane with no incident, I have no wish to see you hurt or killed."

He got up and turned around to face the exit. He stopped dead in his tracks as he thought he saw Claire. He started to tremble before he realised that it was the woman from the tube, that was the double of Claire, and he remembered her voice, and wondered how she could have sounded so like Claire as well. He would have liked to say he was surprised that she was still on the plane, but he knew that he would have only been lying to himself. He quickly glanced to the left, and as expected the mystery woman from that strange white room some five years before was also still on board. Both women were looking at him, and it seemed that, if he wasn't deceiving himself, they both wore concerned expressions.

Then he was walking again following the other passengers off the plane and down the steps on to the tarmac. As he came out of the door the cold hit him. It surprised him at first before he realised that he shouldn't have expected anything else, after all he was in fucking Greenland. It was at times like this that he cursed the strange fact that he had no facial hair to grow since that white room. Without even realising it he found himself on the tarmac and walking across to the terminal building. He looked at the people walking, both those in front and those behind. He noticed that it seemed that all of them wore what if wasn't a worried look, then it was certainly a concerned one. He also noticed that there was no noise, except that of shoes slapping on the tarmac, there was no one talking, and it made for an eerie kind of silence. For once today he resisted the urge to stand out and managed to stop himself from whistling.

The journey across to the terminal didn't seem to take any time at all and he felt himself hit by a blast of warm air as he entered the building. He looked around and was surprised to find that the building was modern, bright and spacious, something he wasn't expecting to find here, and he thought that it looked a far better place to be stuck at than some of the shitholes that he'd had the misfortune to be stuck at over the years.

The Chemist (In the lounge of Chez Didsbury) - Where's my phone?

Squirrel - Just there on top of the baby.

The Chemist - No, where's my phone?

Squirrel & Hopalong - It's that one there, on top of the baby.

The Chemist - No, I want my phone.

Pause

The Chemist - This one's mine (picking up the one off the top of the baby as pointed out by Squirrel and Hopalong)

The Chemist (after an ear shattering sneeze) - My farts don't normally make a noise.

Squirrel - No Mate, that was a sneeze.

The housefly hums in the middle octave, key of F.

Ivory bar soap floating was a mistake. They had been overmixing the soap formula causing excess air bubbles that made it float. Customers wrote and told how much they loved that it floated, and it has floated ever since.

A group of rhinos is called a crash.

In just two days, tomorrow will be yesterday.

I always wanted to be a procrastinator, never got around to it

Interior Decorating (v).

To slap a bit of white emulsion about the womb using the naughty paintbrush

An Avon Lady was delivering products in a high-rise and was riding in the elevator. Suddenly, she had the powerful urge to fart. Since no one was in the elevator, she let it go - and it was a doozy. Of course, the elevator then stopped at the next floor, so she quickly used some Avon Pine-Scented Spray to cover up the smell. A man entered the elevator and immediately made a face. "Holy cow! What's that smell?" "I don't know, sir. I don't smell anything. What does it smell like to you?" "Like someone crapped a Christmas tree."

What's the difference between a lawyer and a vulture? Wings.

What's the position to make ugly babies? Ask your parents.

A Mafioso's son sits at his desk writing a Christmas list to Jesus. He first writes, "Dear baby Jesus, I have been a good boy the whole year, so I want a new..." He looks at it, then crumples it up into a ball and throws it away. He gets out a new piece of paper and writes again, "Dear baby Jesus, I have been a good boy for most of the year, so I want a new..." He again looks at it with disgust and throws it away. He then gets an idea. He goes into his mother's room, takes a statue of the Virgin Mary, puts it in the closet, and locks the door. He takes another piece of paper and writes, "Dear baby Jesus. If you ever want to see your mother again..."

"Grandma, how long have you and Grandpa been married?" asked young Nina. "Fifty years," Grandma replied. "That is so wonderful," exclaimed Nina. "And I bet in all that time, you never once thought about divorce, right?" "Right Nina. Divorce, NEVER. Murder, lots of times, but never divorce."

QUESTION: Why does the law society prohibit sex between lawyers and their clients? ANSWER: To prevent clients from being billed twice for what is essentially the same service.

A redneck felt sick and decided to go to the doctor. The doctor examined him. "I can't seem to find the problem, but I think it has something to do with alcohol." "Well," said the redneck, "then I'll come back when you're sober.'

What did the bow-legged doe say? That's the last time I will do that for ten bucks.

70-year-old George went for his annual physical. He told the doctor that he felt fine, but often had to go to the bathroom during the night. Then he said, "But you know Doc, I'm blessed. God knows my eyesight is going, so he puts on the light when I pee, and turns it off when I'm done!" A little later in the day, Dr. Smith called George's wife and said, "Your husband's test results were fine, but he said something strange that has been bugging me. He claims that God turns the light on and off for him when uses the bathroom at night." Thelma exclaimed, "That old fool! He's been peeing in the refrigerator again!"

A lawyer defending a man accused of burglary tried this creative defense: "My client merely inserted his arm into the window and removed a few trifling articles. His arm is not himself, and I fail to see how you can punish the whole individual for an offense committed by his limb." "Well put," the judge replied. "Using your logic, I sentence the defendant's arm to one year's imprisonment. He can accompany it or not, as he chooses." The defendant smiled. And, with his lawyer's assistance, he detached his artificial limb, laid it on the bench and walked out.

A man was in a bar all day and he had to use the bathroom. He was in there for a while, yelling, so the barmaid reluctantly went to the bathroom to check on him. "Sir, what are you yelling about? You're scaring the customers." "Every time I try to flush the toilet something keeps biting my balls!" "Sir, please get off the mop bucket."

Q: What is the mating call of a blonde? A: "I'm soooo drunk."

One frigid morning in North Dakota a man turned up at work much the worse for wear. "I didn't sleep a wink." he told a co-worker. "I was up all night trying to keep my wife's begonia covered against the freezing cold." "I should be so lucky." his co-worker replied. "When it's this cold my wife wears so damn many clothes to bed, I can never get anywhere near her begonia."

Two children were in a doctor's waiting room. The little girl was softly sobbing. "Why are you crying?" asked the little boy. "I'm here for a blood test, and they're going to cut my finger," said the girl. When he heard this, the little boy started to cry. "Why are you crying?" asked the girl. The boy looked at her worriedly and said, "I'm here for a urine test."

This old man goes to the doctor's. "Help, Doc. I just got married to this 21 year old woman. She is hot and all she wants to do is have sex all day long." "So what's the problem?" "I can't remember where I live."

The potential for things to get messy this weekend must be fairly high as it is Hopalong's birthday on Sunday. Basically this gives scope for Friday, Saturday and Sunday night drinking, especially as Hopalong has had the foresight to book the Monday off as recovery time. As for the actual plan, well somewhat unsurprisingly that's a bit sketchy, though despite his protestations Hopalong will succumb to the lovely sweet taste of beer, and if he doesn't he can always be forced into it by a repeat showing of Billy Madison, but rumour has it that after a late afternoon start by Hopalong and G Man on Friday they are meeting up with Squirrel and other random wannabes in town at Sinclair's Oyster Bar and then heading for a mini crawl round the Printworks. The rest of the weekend after that could get somewhat messy. As for what else is happening, who gives a shit? See y'all next week.

Born in approximately 1208 in France, son of another Simon de Montfort who was the 5^th Earl of Leicester. He came to England in 1229 and married King Henry III’s sister Eleanor in 1238. He became the 6^th Earl of Leicester in 1239 21 years after his father had died in battle. In 1240 he distinguished himself on crusade under Richard, the Earl of Cornwall whilst in Palestine.

He returned to his native France in 1242, where he fought alongside Henry III in the Gascon campaigns of 1242-43. He was in charge of the Government of Gascony from 1248 and it is this that led to trouble with the then King of England Henry III. Gascon protests led Henry to call Simon to an Inquiry in 1252. A bitter quarrel ensued and after this was temporarily ended he returned to Gascony, but his rule there was interrupted again by an order from Henry to desist in the midst of his campaign so that Prince Edward, could take charge of Gascony.

Following this Simon, with the help of the Barons forced to conform to the provisions of Oxford in 1258, which forced Henry to turn over the power of the government to a committee of 15. These were supplemented by the provisions of Westminster a year later. However the barons consented to a compromise with the king in 1261 and Simon returned to France. Henry then annulled the provisions the following year and in 1263 Simon returned to lead the barons in their dispute with the king.

Skirmishes between the crown and de Montfort’s supporters led up to the battle of Lewes in 1264 in which Simon captured King Henry and his son, the future Edward I. From this point until his death in the battle of Evesham in 1265 he was in effect the dictator ruler of England. He was credited with starting the first ever Parliament in England in 1265, but fell out with the Barons which ultimately led to his death at Evesham, after his most powerful ally deserted and joined with Prince Edward to start the wars again.

With his death, the title of the earl of Leicester passed from being as his lands were given to Edmund, another of the sons of the King, and the title was passed to become the Earl of Lancaster. The county, the castle all became the property of the Earldom (later to be Duchy) of Lancaster.

For someone after whom so much in Leicester is named (De Montfort Hall, University, Street, Square etc.) it is unlikely that he spent much time if any in Leicester. Yet during his Earlship both the Grey and Black Friars established themselves in Leicester, and through his religious fervour all Jews were expelled form the city. He appears on the Clock Tower as one of the four Leicester benefactors (alongside Sir Thomas White, William Wyggston, and Alderman Gabriel Newton). He appears there probably due to the fact that during his reign as Earl he restored the lawful rights back to the Burgesses of the town, and remitted such customary payments, such as gavel pence, and bridge silver.

Here’s this week’s random review

The Jam - Setting Sons. The Jam's fourth album, started out life with the intention to be a concept album, and only record company pressure to meet a deadline prevented it from being a completed concept album. As it turned out six of the ten tracks tell the story of three friends and their journey from childhood, through adolescence and into the busy working life of adulthood. Along the way the single Eton Rifles was added along with a storming cover of Martha Reeves and the Vandella's Heatwave, to make a tight, musically diverse album that is without a doubt Paul Weller's finest work. If you don't have this then go and get it. The best album in the world ever, thirty eight minutes and forty six seconds of pure class.

First the answer from last week. The answer is not three, not matter how many of you try to say it is. The answer is in fact 6, this is because if a chicken and a half lay and egg and a half in a day and a half they would lay 3 eggs in 3 days, then you have an additional chicken and a half so you have double the amount. The winner, and I'm surprised there was one, is a Miss Jenny Fowler from Hendon, who wins the Chicken Run and Dumbo DVD's.

For this week’s competition, all I want to know is, what percent proof is Stella Artois? 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 crate of Stella.

TOTAL = 29

CUMMILATIVE TOTAL = 607