2006-02-01
OK – Sorry for the silence. It’s been a busy week or so and will get worse. It’s also been immensely cold: minus seven when I left the house yesterday morning. I realise this may well be greeted with a snort of derision by at least one (Norwegian) reader but it was also that kind of damp cold that seems to get right in amongst the bones.Monday I was away in London – waste of a day really. All the flights down in the morning were delayed and backed-up because of the ice and so I was very late getting away. Into the centre, two hours of meetings and then back out to Heathrow to join the queue going in the opposite direction. By the time we were approaching the home city a dense fog had come down and the pilot was talking about diverting. But then he decided to go for an automatic pilot landing. To be honest I’d rather he hadn’t told us in advance that we were going in hands-free, but it turned out fine and number one son was waiting to pick me up. And British Airways – maybe you do give us big blue fancy leather seats, but I need something more than a soggy cheese and coleslaw sandwich in those circumstances.
SO – who’s heard of hurricane Stanley? I read about this in the paper the other day. Not in an article about the devastation that particular hurricane caused (pretty much the same as Katrina – thousand dead in Guatemala) but more about how our news coverage is completely biased. For all the acreage of newsprint and hours of television coverage we got about New Orleans I can’t remember any reference whatsoever to Stanley.
Highlight of my weekend (and how sad is this?) was completing the base layer of the wall I’m building out of old cobble stones. The layers above will be a cinch in comparison -–just had to get the ground completely level under the first line. OK – that’s a very uninteresting thing to read about, but I was immensely satisfied I can tell you. Real sense of achievement…OK OK let’s move on.
Did anyone catch that Channel 4 documentary about penis enlargement? I was flicking through the channels late one evening and came upon (should I re-phrase that?) some gay man who was so obsessed with increasing his size that his equipment looked more like an enormous marrow attached to a pumpkin. He was explaining how he had decided that the perfect size for his scrotal sac was twenty inches (TWENTY inches!!) but then he heard about someone who had a twentytwo inch bag and thought maybe he should go for the full two feet. Did I say pumpkin? More like a basket ball in his lap. He admitted that his knob (think of a seal pup and you’re almost there) is completely redundant sexually, that he can’t pee standing up anymore and when he sits down on the toilet his balls are dipping in the water. What is the point? ‘What I’ve lost in penetration, I’ve gained in reaction!’
Over here we have an adult comic magazine which sometimes features a character called ‘Buster Gonads (with his unfeasibly large testicles)’ who has to lug his ‘plums’ around in a wheelbarrow. Hilarious as his exploits are – truth is actually stranger than fiction!