Updated Every Weekday!

6/9/2002: Good Morning Sunshine

You like flowcharts? I got your flowchart right here. It's on the subject of early mornings and is the usual mishmash of weirdness. Read it! That is your task for today!

Well, can't think of anything else to write, really.


I suppose I could tell you that my parents are on holiday leaving the house in the capable hands of the 'kids'. But that wouldn't be terribly amusing. I could mention the two of my brother's deadbeat mates passed out on the living room floor, but frankly I've done that to death. Why don't I just bugger off, leave you with the flowchart, and see you all again Monday?

See you all again Monday!

5/9/2002: Britain's Most Asinine Television

You foreigners might be a little surprised by this statement, but not all the television in Britain is very good. You lot only get shown the good stuff like Monty Python, Blackadder, Father Ted, while you don't get to see all the horrible dross we must wade through before a real classic comes to light. It's the same principle that makes us all think that the US makes lots of quality drama - 'cos we only get the good ones, while the unwatchable shit stays right where it is.

"Get to the point, you silly old leg-before-wicket English person," I hear you cry. Well, there seems to have been some mysterious transformation over some of our TV channels. There was once a time when Channel 5 was the runt of the litter, showing more grotty television and porn than is probably good for us. Nowadays C5 is showing more and more quality documentaries and buying up the good dramas and restraining their porn output, while Channel 3 (or ITV1 as it would apparently prefer to be called) is giving us - wait for it - Britain's Sexiest.

I was subjected to this travesty of broadcasting last night, while idly channel-hopping. ITV1 has decided that it is the authority on sexy people, so they're holding a series of beauty contests for various professions in front of an audience that hoots and hollers like a bunch of obnoxious tropical birds. These contests are presented by some bloke with a goatee and some dumpy blonde girl with a voice like a garden rake being scraped down a blackboard.

Last night the contest was for 'Britain's Sexiest Builder', which is all very well when it comes to men, but you'd be very hard pressed to find sexy female builders. You might as well go look for manly cheerleaders. As it turned out, while the five men they had picked looked like stupid grinning Backstreet Boys in toolbelts (I swear there was one bloke whose teeth were desperately trying to escape from his face), the women left rather a lot to be desired. Not that I'm being a fascist or anything, but I kind of got the impression that these five ... creatures weren't just the only vaguely attractive female builders they could find, but also the only female builders they could find at all. The ones that weren't chubby were 'friends of your mum' type ladies who, judging by the way they simpered and gyrated on the catwalk, letting their hideous saggy flesh fly around like so much rice pudding in a sack, were convinced that they were god's gift to men. The kind of gift bought from a newsagent's at the last minute on Christmas Eve after all the good shops are shut.

The eventual winners - voted for by the great British public, natch - were the bloke with the freakishly large shoulder muscles and dyed blonde hair who looked sufficiently like a member of N'Sync and the woman who was marginally the thinnest and least ugly. Personally I will not be tuning in to 'Britain's Sexiest Quantity Surveyor' or 'Britain's Sexiest Road Accident Victim'.

Michael is 21, and his ambitions are to butcher his entire family and to travel.
A clip from ITV1's 'Britain's Sexiest Serial Killer'

That's not all. Take a goosey at some of the other output ITV1 has been pouring down our throats like a penguin regurgitating fish into the mouths of her hungry young.

I'm A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here:

ITV1 didn't take the hint when no-one watched Survivor. They commissioned a second series which even less people watched. Now they're repeating the formula with celebrities, dumping them in the Australian outback and filming them. This could have been a winner, but it seems that ITV1 have a strange idea of what constitutes a celebrity. The word comes from 'celebrated', the whole meaning 'a celebrated well-known figure'. Stop me if any of you non-British readers have heard of any of these. Tony Blackburn? Christine Hamilton? Uri 'Spoony' Geller? Darren Day? Most of these haven't been in the public eye since Noel's House Party was popular. Personally I won't be watching this unless someone with the power of clairvoyance tells me that all the cast get eaten by giant spiders on tonight's episode.

You've Been Framed:

This used to be hosted by Jeremy Beadle, another irritating twat with a vagina on his face, but is now hosted by some fat girl who wants to be the next Dawn French. As for the content, the US equivalent is called America's Funniest Home Videos if that's any help. Spectacular cretins who want to see themselves on TV at any cost flog their hilarious home videos, which invariably fall into one of the following categories:

- People falling over
- Animals falling over
- Small children falling over
- People, animals or small children falling off things
- People, animals or small children falling into bodies of water
- People at weddings dropping cakes
- People at weddings falling over
- People at weddings falling over, and in the process, dropping cakes
- Small children blowing out birthday candles
- Small children blowing out birthday candles and falling over
- Small children blowing out birthday candles, falling into bodies of water and dropping cakes

HA HA HA! I don't know about you, but people falling over for me get particularly funny the nine hundred million billionth time! It should be noted that a lot of the videos on this programme seem to have been bought from the US. Apparently we don't have enough imbeciles of our own and have to import them. And I'm not just being bitter because I once sent in a video of someone knocking over a road sign which was really funny but they didn't use it. Probably because there were no small children falling over.

So basically, ITV1 really need to pull their socks up. What they should do is make a series of documentaries about wheelchair-bound manic depressives. Not even the hardiest of TV critics would ever say bad things about wheelchair-bound manic depressives.

4/9/2002: Suffer the Little Children

There's been a lot of kerfuffle in the news lately about the problems schools seem to be having with playtime. It would appear that some people were concerned that some aspect of school was still a little bit enjoyable, so have clamped down on it with the iron fist of tyranny. What am I talking about? Bannings. Many schools in this country have taken to banning every single conceivable thing a child could do in a playground that might result in injury. Here's an example of some of the things that some schools have banned outright in the playground.

- Conkers
- Skipping
- 'British Bulldog'
- Cricket
- Football
- Tag
- Marbles
- Running
- Speaking
- Breathing

Yes, alright, I started making them up towards the end. But believe me when I say that I only made up the last two. This is just political correctness gone mad, really; I can sort of understand banning conkers and British Bulldog, 'cos one involves smashing little hard things against other people's and the other has children trying to force their way through a wall of other children, but for god's sake, you just can't ban running in the playground. It's a PLAYGROUND. Running is what children DO there. It's like banning reading in a library, or sodomy in prisons. And what with all the unhealthy crap the kids are stuffing their faces with nowadays they need all the exercise they can get.

When I was at school there was this game called Pile-On. This involved one person lying in the fetal position on the floor while countless other people leapt on top of them. Might sound homoerotic to you, but this was a badass game of danger and peril, held in form rooms behind teachers' backs, which was finally exposed when some wimp broke his collar bone. My point is, this was banned for a good reason. The guy broke his damn collar bone, for John Lennon's sake. The worst you can get from running is tripping and grazing your knee and having to get the school nurse to smear that horrible stingy cream on it.

There's also a school that banned lunchtime talent shows for fear that some pupils might end up feeling inadequate. For the same reason the school has also arranged to have every child lobotomised.

"You might say the lobotomies are going a bit too far, but you'd be surprised how many injuries are caused by thinking clearly," said headmistress Doreen Stupid-Bitch. "We're just trying to protect the children, really. Also there are millions of harmful bacteria in the air so we're changing the school uniform to a full-body cleansuit. And we've lost count of all the lobotomised children injured by falling off their chairs or walking down corridors, so we're hoping to faze out lessons by the end of the month too, and just lock all the kids in individual sensory deprivation tanks all day."

I think I did work experience here once.
There are over two hundred things in this picture that could
kill your children.

Let's get serious, folks. These schools aren't actually concerned about the wellbeing of the children. They're just afraid of being sued. Frankly I think this is a pretty legitimate concern nowadays, and I don't blame them for fearing the litigation-obsessed wankers who populate the world. I blame the legal system for letting these nasty, nasty people sue McDonalds for serving them hot coffee.

But just think about this, schools - if a child trips and grazes his or her knee, they're not going to go crying to their lawyers. You can't be expected to flatten everything on school grounds that someone could conceivably trip over. When that bloke I mentioned broke his collar bone he didn't sue the school for not fitting everyone with shoulder pads and crash helmets, he simply conceded that he and his mates were bloody idiots for playing Pile-On. If some other kid hurts another kid, it's their own business. The matter will be dealt with by their parents. They can talk it out if they want, or sue each other if they're tossers, and hopefully leave you out of it. You shouldn't be allowed to get sued when a fight breaks out between two kids unless you start cheering them on and placing bets. Jesus, you can't get sued for something that's someone else's stupid fault.

That is, not until you move to America.

3/9/2002: Season's Bleatings

Goodness gracious me, readers, I've had a simply super idea.

It came to me while I was out buying an anniversary card for my parents (why they insisted upon this, I don't know - it's not like I married either of them). As I searched the card shop I found card upon card with messages like "I love you" and "I really love you" and "As regards to you I feel an emotion which is best defined as 'love'". Even the light-hearted ones had an underlying message of feeling great affection for the recipient.

And those cards that say 'World's Greatest Dad!' or whatever. I just can't bring myself to buy one of those. It doesn't feel right. As much as I would be quite put out if my dad suddenly dropped dead I wouldn't go as far to say he was the world's greatest. Far from it, in fact.

What I'm trying to say is ... why can't there be special cards for people whose birthday is coming up but whom you don't know that well, or don't really feel much enthusiasm for? Fear not, card-buying public, your worries are at an end. Introducing Yahtzee's BlandCards! Completely apathetic, non-emotional messages for the new generation of sulky loners! Take a look at these prototypes:


But wait! How many times have you been obligated to send a card to someone you absolutely loathe and have had to make do with a friendly, cheerful card? Never again will this stigma take place with Yahtzee's new HateCards!

More hate than a Ku Klux Klan member who's got a special reason to be cross!

I don't know about you, but I think I'm onto something here.

2/9/2002: Soapbox Day

I am an uninjured, mentally normal, 18-35, non-denominational heterosexual caucasian male.

I am a member of the most persecuted demographic in the world.

No-one has ever set up a committee to help protect uninjured, mentally normal, 18-35, non-denominational heterosexual caucasian males. Nowadays no-one would ever establish a special club for uninjured, mentally normal, 18-35, non-denominational heterosexual caucasian males. No, apparently that's racist if it isn't black or asian people doing it. No-one deliberately hires an uninjured, mentally normal, 18-35, non-denominational heterosexual caucasian male so there can be more minority representation in the workplace. If we get called 'whities' or 'honkies' there are no discrimination committees we can cry to.

There is no such thing as 'masculinism'. Everywhere I look on television there are stupid bumbling men being outwitted by smart and sassy women with big smiles. Every other week there's a new scientific reports that proves BEYOND ALL DOUBT that women are superior in every possible way and men should all be imprisoned and forced to work in chain gangs until they die. If we ever try to reverse the roles and depict women being outwitted by men then we get words like 'sexist' and 'chauvinist' screamed in our ears and then someone takes a hedge trimmer to our tie racks. Men and women are exactly the same? Pshaw, nonsense. Men have been persecuting women all the way up to around 1960, so it's only natural that we don't deserve to be more intelligent.

Hey, you're in a wheelchair. That's awful. But everyone walks on eggshells around you in case you get sad and make them feel guilty. No-one worries about that with uninjured, mentally normal, 18-35, non-denominational heterosexual caucasian males. They can say what they like right to our faces and have no fear of reprisal. If we get upset and go kill ourselves they just assume we were nutters.

There's a charity called 'Help the Aged', which begs us uninjured, mentally normal, 18-35, non-denominational heterosexual caucasian males for money to aid people who are old and poor and poverty-stricken. Is there a charity called 'Help the 18-35 Demographic' for people who are young and poor and poverty-stricken? No, we're on our own.

Along the American Bible Belt there are people who murder abortion doctors and picket homosexual funerals shouting abuse who justify their actions with their religion. If we go into a church and try pissing in the corner everyone goes 'Have some respect!'. What about respect for people who have had the sense to actually apply some thought to the matter and reject their outmoded faiths? Nope, we don't get any. We're non-denominational. We don't believe in a big man in the clouds with magic powers so we don't deserve respect. If we murder abortion doctors or shout abuse at homosexual funerals they put us away, and there's no protest from the rest of the uninjured, mentally normal, 18-35, non-denominational heterosexual caucasian males.

"Did you know that most mass murderers are 18-35 caucasian males?" says the statistics. I'm no expert, but I'd wager that it's more a case of there generally being more 18-35 caucasian males than any other minority, rather than there being an 'evil gene' circulating around caucasian circles. What if someone accidentally found out that most murderers are elderly pregnant Asian wheelchair-bound blind women? If they published that they'd get some really dirty looks.

In today's politically correct climate, it has never been a worse time to be an uninjured, mentally normal, 18-35, non-denominational heterosexual caucasian male. It's the Golden Age of Minorities. You can either live with it or beat the system and invent new minorities.

Henceforth, I'm starting a Society for the Bespectacled Obscenely Tall (SBOT), a group which only allows people who are over six feet in height and wear glasses. Join today and you'll get your membership card, certificate, and free "I LOVE SBOTTIES!" T-shirt and pencilcase. Anyone who refuses to employ one of our members or insults us in some other fashion will be accused of being 'Sbottist' and sued for all their money. We'll campaign for more SBOT representation in international debates and the workforce. And I'm not just doing this so it'll be easier for me to get a job.

Welcome to the world you created, prime minister. Mwu-ha-ha-ha-ha!

That's an old photo.

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All material not otherwise credited by Ben 'Yahtzee' Croshaw
Copyright 2002 All Rights Reserved and other legal bollock language