My Real Name

My real name is Oliphant Oliphant Oliphant.

Any jokes about the missionary recently come back from Africa having had his membrum virile magically transformed to the the size and flexibility of an elephant's trunk and having to explain at a Christian Ladies' tea party that it isn't so much that it's stealing all the buns but where it's putting them etc are unwelcome.

Much as I loathe Prof. Fraud and all his works... gotta admit that all male humour from age 5 to about 50 or so seems to be about unfeasibly (and a tip of th'tiplo hat to Viz magazine for one of the few useable 'buzz'words to have come out of the last two centuries or so*) unfeasibly large and/or prehensile penises.

* as a special birthday tribute to Viz magazine, one for their regular "Up The Arse" journalistic photo-feature.

I'm Dead Behind These Eyes

Treasury Adds 10000000000000000000 or more to the Money

In a surprise move yesterday, a consultant at the Her Majesty's Treasury was instructed to put his finger on the "zero" button of his computer and to hold it there until further notice.

Somebody told me to do this and then he ran way and hid in the cupboard, said the consultant today.

I'm not really a consultant anyway, just a temp, if you want to know why I'm doing this ask the man in the cupboard.

Not a Duck

Readers: Is this one of your interminable "ceci n'est pas une pipe"-type japes?

Blogista: I can assure you that it is not.

Readers: Given that you are not very good at "ceci n'est pas une pipe" japes anyway.

Blogista: Whattya mean, "not very good"?

Readers: K so you press th' button on th'duck and it does something. Bet yours doesn't work.

Blogista: There are two buttons on the duck.

Readers: The same is true of both.

Blogista: I don't know what point you are trying to make, but you have really upset the duck. I don't care what you do to me, but leave the duck alone. Have a heart.

Readers: K the duck gets to live.

The Atheist Militant...

...alone on a vast and empty battlefield, wielding his razor and shouting "Well then come and get me you bastards."

Prof Sir Spit Or Swallow Dawkins did once upon a televisionary programme try to tear a second arsehole into the entirely harmless Mr Russell Grant Purveiour of Horoscopoes.

Mr Grant might have said "Fuck off you're just another DNA replicator" but he didn't. Or a simple and decorous "Fuck off " would have sufficed.

Do any of my readers feel that the phrase "to tear sb another (or it may be "a second") arsehole" is neither translatable into French nor surgically feasible*? Answers only from notyetstruckoff proctologists and/or native French-speakers, please.

* rulez: no plastic tubes valves bypasses bags or other honky-tonk allowed: it has to be a functioning second arsehole w/structural considerations considered. Responses in Tibetan, Swahili &c will not be considered.

Readers (suspicious): Lot of considering going on here.

Panelista (or pohaps Boardista but certainly not some lone and therefore suspect Blogista): Yes indeedy. For what can exist in this world except that it has been considered by a Panel or Board on your behalf or in exceptional circumstances by a Committee of Enquiry?

Readers: What Panel (or Board) would that be, then?

Blogista: Why the Panel (or Board ) of ,or perhaps for, Arseholes.

Readers: I'd go for "for", otherwise it will only sound ridiculous.

Blogista:

Readers: Did you say Enquiry?

Teach Yourself Yourself

What Are Cro-Magnons For We Ask

K 4 4 u ---

1) After 40000 years we have created a cartoon singing hippo and a cartoon dog that has some smoov moovs #### lk @ is bom.

2)

3) "Cro-Magnon", wtf does that mean? I could be "Cro-Modern" or maybe "ironically post-Magnon"?

4) The Neanderthals never achieved this because they sucked. And died. And in the morning you're just another hit'n'run.

Linky here. Or just search on YouTube for "Singing Hippo", and don't ask me why I did.

5) Wallace'n'Gromit rip-offs but with defective lip-synch. And there was I saying there were only 4).