Trevor Mcinsley

I Want The Last Two Hours of My Life Back, LG

2011-07-23T22:20:00.000+01:00

I won't explain why I had to complain like this, it's all in the post (and yes I know there are at least two mistakes in there and yes each one is liek a steak hamered in to my chast but the sight helpfully does not let you edit these thangs.)

http://www.lgblog.co.uk/2010/01/lg-customer-service/

It begins...

You know it says something about the world today when the only way you can actually reach a major company is via their blog. Ok, so maybe that sounds too much like the deranged rantings of someone who is trying to sound so devastatingly cool that 90% of what they come out with is simply 'Facebook is too commercial nowadays' even when the conversation was actually about the price of timber in the Sudan or the hazards of lions in Scotland... or is that the other way r... never mind. What it does say something about is the company itself.

I am going to take a short break to give you a heads up here, this comment is going to be long, it is going to get seriously wordy and likely go off topic and delve into the realms of robotics, the potential for creating sentient potatoes and the precise meaning of that most hideous of political terms 'Quango', because honestly I have no idea and despite it being explained to me in length a dozen times I still insist it was a character from Banjo Kazooie.

Now, to the matter in hand, I have a pair of Flatron W2242S monitors which up 'til recently have served me beautifully (or as beautifully as a monitor can for anyone without a bizarre fetish that leads to them having a love affair with a laptop and getting banned from PC World). Not long ago however one developed a fault, namely a horizontal line of what looks like something somewhere between dead pixels and screen burn. So I set about digging out the guarantee from the mound of boxes in the garage, thinking that it would be the most difficult and tedious part of the process, if I knew then what I know now I think I would have simply built myself a small nest in amongst the boxes and gone into a catatonic state...

Without wishing to sound melodramatic or to overstate things too greatly... your website is going to bring about the destruction of mankind. I'll develop on that shall I? You know how the evil genius supervillain types from the world of Hollywood always have some sort of back story involving a 'lab accident', or being wronged in some way by a traffic warden that inevitably leads to them hollowing out a volcano and declaring their undying vendetta on mankind by repeatedly attempting to kill British agents? Well... sorry I've now gone so off topic I've lost myself. To put it another way: your website is bad. If LG were say, a small florists or pet dealership that also sold small amounts of fishing tackle and looked very much to passersby like some kind of syndicate run drug front then having a bad website could be overlooked. However LG (which I take it stands for 'Lots Good!') is a major technology company, you can build a phone that goes online and yet you can't manage to build something that 13 year old girls the world over manage to create and fill with photos of puppies and pink things at various degrees of cuteness. See, I warned you this would be long and largely off topic didn't I...

I first sent an email not quite as lengthy as this comment (but vastly more surreal ((on that note I am no longer going to call this a comment but an 'essay', no wait, a 'treatise')))...to the email address listed in the guarantee book only to get an email back moments later that despite being very courteous was deftly to the point (yes I know it was an automated response but I like to treat all emails as if they are from real people, it makes the world a more interesting place and often leads to lengthy debates with web servers at 2 in the morning)...stating that the email address didn't exist, or rather no longer existed. So I set about looking for another on your flash riddled website, my heart sank (seriously not an overstatement this time) when I found that your support had no public email address and that I would need to use the contact form. Now I am aware that this treatise has already become far too long and delved far too deeply into the realms of ridiculousness, so I will endeavour not to explain precisely how much I loathe contact forms but needless to say I was not much pleased at the prospect of shortening my email to just 1000 characters, after all you would not have given Shakespeare just a 1000 words to let him tell you how devious Scottish people are, would you?

Ok, back on topic, if I can actually recall what I was on about... err...

The website, yes. Right, focus... I filled in the contact form, despite having no idea what my model number actually was (I'll get to that in a moment) only to find that the moment I sent it the page ceased to exist entirely, presumably due to some kind of paradoxical event in the space-time continuum. I tried again, but no, the page still crumbled into a fleeting binary digit the moment I set eyes upon it. So I tried the repair request form, but first had to work out exactly what my model number was. The monitor has it branded conveniently in the top corner and it is pasted on the box several times as 'W2242S'. The first time I entered this I was helpfully told that no such model existed, indeed the second and third time I was told it again. Then, lo and behold, the next time it worked, despite typing (in fact, pasting) the exact same model number in.

Now follows a list of the options it gave me, followed by a brief poem to break up the monotony of lots of tiresome model numbers:

W2242S-BF
W2242S-PF
W2242S-SF
W2242S-SF.AEKVQPN (my personal favourite)
W2242S-SF.AEUQQPN
W2242S-SF.ARUVQPN (name of my first hamster)
W2242SM-SF

Is it too much to ask,
to name products en anglais?
In daft numbers you bask,
whilst I drift off in a haze.

My mind these codes do baffle,
came here looking for help,
ended up in a raffle.
This website makes me yelp.

Ok, so Shakespeare I am not but then he never had to contend with the frustration of finding a product number on the back of a monitor (thankfully, or else Hamlet would have taken a bizarre turn). Unfortunately the tangle of wires I call my desk or, when I have had a few, Steve, made digging out the product code as difficult as the boxes in the garage. When I located the silvery sticker I found that it had half a dozen more codes on it which sounded like they could be model numbers. If I were to be pedantic and actually type the model number that the online form asks for I would end up with 'W2242ST' which it would then promptly (in theory anyway, the site was being terrifically slow earlier) tell me does not exist. The PFT.AEKGAVN bit could potentially also be the model number, although it sounds suspiciously like a Russian made assault rifle to me, and the product code without that bit of communist jargon is simply the name that is branded everywhere else. Only at the top does it actually say that my particular monitor is a W2242S-PF, although why it is that is unclear. I had assumed, wrongly, that BF was 'Black Finish', SF was 'Silver Finish' and then I got as far as PF and realised that a 'Pink Finish' monitor would result in the marketing team being sectioned under the mental health act...

I really need to try and wrap this up soon... I entered that code and it asked me to register it, which I did, for both monitors, something, that like washing my hair, I probably should have done years ago. After creating my login and registering them I figured I was moments away from finishing this whole godforsaken exercise but then the site helpfully declined to offer me any means for actually submitting a claim. Every time I entered the monitor model number it simply asked if I would like to register it and examining my already registered products gave me no hint at how to finish this level and move on to the next one, I looked online for a walkthrough (I know it's cheating but I was eager to move on to the boss fight) and then remembered that this was not the latest installment of the popular (though frankly, done to death) Zelda series and was meant to be an online support system.

I decided to try another product to see if I was simply not allowed a claim on these because they were no longer being sold (despite them still being under warranty) so I had a look at your television section on the site. I grabbed the model number of the first one and pasted it into the claims form and then... it told me it didn't exist. Oh for fu... your website just tried to sell me it Mr Claims Form how can it not exist? It's that temporal shifting business at work again isn't it? Oh that crafty space-time continuum and his ineffable contempt for the internet.

Anyway, I tried the second one on the list and it actually offered me a repair thing... shortly before the website very helpfully informed me that I could not do that at this time because the support system was under maintenance... Again, oh for the love of uncharacteristic censorship on the internet, could you not have told me that half an hour ago, you know before I got so angry that I actually considered buying a dog just so I could shout at it for desecrating my garden by means of relieving my stress (though not relieving it all over the roses).

So yes, that is pretty well the entirety of my tale, your website has aggravated me to the point where I am considering simply tippexing over the line of deadness on my screen on the basis that most of what it should be displaying is white anyway.

So how are you going to resolve it? Well I would suggest replacing not just my broken monitor but also the second, perfectly functioning, one on the basis that the replacement will not be the same model and hence will not match (I have a strange feeling it may well be involved in an incident soon anyway). I am not asking for money, sexual favours or a courtesy butler that can read my emails and word documents out to me whilst my monitor is out of service (although I would love to see him trying to describe events in minesweeper through interpretive dance), so I do not think that my request is too much. At the very least I expect this post, sorry, 'treaties', to be published in your training manual under the section 'Dealing with Complaints from Writers', though perhaps 'Dealing with Complaints from Time-Wasting Lunatics' would be more appropriate...

Thanks for your time, now if you could show me to the door...

(Apologies if the formatting has gone all to hell on this but rest assured that is also the fault of your site.)

Monday Night Musings

2010-12-29T20:32:00.003Z

Ok so it's not Monday in the strictest sense of the word, as strict as one can be about these things that is, frankly the whole week generally blurs into one terrible... blur most of the time anyway. Also I am fairly sure that I have either stolen that title from some magazine/blog that I cannot recall the name of or from several magazines/blogs that I cannot recall the names of. Regardless theft is theft and quantity scarcely seems to work as a defence, as can clearly be cited in the famous case of 'Dave the House Nicker' in which the defendant, Dave, claimed that he could not be 'done' for burglary since he was not stealing mere trinkets from the victims houses but in fact the houses themselves, brick by brick, mortar, foundations, garden (somehow) and all. The case naturally fell down, as did many of the stolen houses, when he claimed that since everything inside the houses, which he had not stolen, were now inside his property then he technically owned them.

Anyway, like the subject of this particular whatever-the-hell-day-it-is musing I fear I have gone somewhat adrift from the plot. I was considering, as I so often do, the fate of one 'Orlando Bloom' star of films and... stuff. The particular stuffette that led me to this consideration was the Pirates of the Caribbean film series, which I have been led to believe he starred in (previously I had considered his role to be portrayed by a very convincing animatronic puppet).

I had noticed, in the course of my watchings, that the character portrayed by 'Mr Orlando' spends a good deal of his time swimming from place to place and jumping/falling off ships, hence leading to him being required to swim from place to place in the first... place. Given his apparent knack for these aquatic acrobatics I have come to conclude that he is a fish. Seems like a simple enough conclusion right? I'm sure it is one many of you have come to before, likely after too much Stilton or some bad eggs but such is the heightened degree to which my mind can process obscure thought I do not need such pollutants to conjure these images (although that Brie was a little... bluer than I care for).

If this story were to end here then that would be that, no revelation would have been revealed, etc. However it appears to me as though Will Turner is not actually a fish, surely the role was not written as such anyway, I get the impression that the part was moulded and changed to fit the style of 'Orlando Bloom' who I have come to conclude must be the fish. Obviously the evidence of him swimming about a bit in a series of films is not enough to convict him and get the fryer heated up, but consider, for a moment, his other 'works.'

He falls out of a Black Hawk in the film of the same name, or the film of that name with 'Down' added after it anyhow. Down in the context of the direction, the direction in which he falls (I believe that is why the film is called such) and not meaning the feathers of a bird, though with the whole 'Black Hawk' thing that conclusion could too easily be drawn. In fact he falls out of a Black Hawk helicopter and not a young bird of prey, though that would have made the film so much better, if not a somewhat dubious factual account of a historical event.

You may ask: 'What has this got to do with fish?' and you would be right to ask it. Well done. Granted it would have been a dead give away that he was a fish had he have been dropped from the talons of a hawk rather than falling from a helicopter but then think about it... What would a fish do in that situation? If you were so inclined to bring a salmon or a small tuna along on a elite military operation and were capable of convincing your sergeant that it was mission critical, perhaps for luring bears out of hiding, then what is the first thing it would likely do? Yes, you've got it: fall out of a helicopter.

Fish can't be trusted in a helicopter, they are unaccustomed to the gyration of the rotor blades and lack the appendages to hold on to the available hand holds. Also they are shit at manning the 50 cal.

Fish fall out of helicopters.

'Orlando Bloom' falls out of helicopters.

'Orlando Bloom' is a fish.

The evidence is insurmountable.

Also he plays an elf in Lord of the Rings and that's obviously just a metaphor for a trout.

Shockingly Startling Facts About Money!

2010-10-28T23:01:00.002+01:00

There now follows some little known facts about everyone's favourite subject: money.

Every 10p currently in circulation has at some time been inside a parking metre.

Due to an ancient loophole in the law it is technically illegal to purchase fruit using coins, bank notes or cheques. Credit cards, watermelons and debit cards are not affected by this law.

50p and 20p coins are shaped as such for the sake of the blind who will only pay using these coins and as such are forever cursed with too much small change.

The half penny of the 70's and 80's (that's the one that is slightly smaller than the current 5p, for you younglings) despite actually being smaller and thinner than the penny, used more metal and weighed twice as much. The cause for this anomaly is currently unknown.

Every other 20p currently in circulation has at some time been inside a parking metre.

The £1 and the original £2 coin used a very specific alloy of metal that was found to be highly resistant to heat. This was chosen to prevent Welsh dragons from melting the money in their fiery breath and so devaluing the currency, now that the £2 is back in circulation and no longer made from this metal however there is a serious risk of a full scale financial dragon invasion. Please, for the sake of the country, petition your MP now demanding that all our coins be fireproofed.

Approximately half of the £5, £10 and £20 notes in circulation have traces of cocaine on them, in fact if you wash around £300, collect and then evaporate off the water you are left with somewhere in the region of £30 worth of grade A 'Columbian talcum powder.' Due to the large amounts of sweat, skin cells, ink and general grime that is also collected this product is known on the streets as 'Compost Coke' because of its brown colour and unpleasant smell. Some of the human debris and dirt can be removed using coffee filter paper and distillation but since this is time consuming the mixture is usually just smoked as it stands, or occasionally squirms. After a few repeat washes to get as much cocaine from the notes as possible the perpetrators usually 'launder' the money simply by paying it into a bank and then withdrawing it from another the following day to avoid suspicion. The process can then be repeated and it is in fact possible for a coke riddled hoodlum to feed their addiction entirely from a small stash of money.

People often talk about there being £1000 and £1 million notes used for exchanges between banks and for country to country repayments after the war, in fact the most valuable British note is currently thought to be worth £5 million due to its tremendous rarity.

The note in question is the result of a printing error in one batch of £5 notes back in 1975 where the image of the Queen was accidentally replaced by that of Attila the Hun, the notorious ruler of the Hunnic Empire. The problem was not spotted until most of the notes had already been circulated, this led to vicious and unfounded rumours of the King of the Hun (by this time quite dead) intending to overthrow the monarchy. The error was never officially admitted by the Bank of England but most of the notes were secretly recovered from banks and destroyed. There are currently 5 specimens in museums around the country and some 50 in the hands of private collectors, there are estimated to be about 20 of these notes still unaccounted for, could they be stashed in some forgotten piggy bank or wallet in your house? Go look. Now, go. No? You don't have any of them? Shame.

Paris Hilton in London!

2010-10-26T23:18:00.002+01:00

That's right, your eyes are not deceiving you, Paris Hilton, star of.... err, um... renowned for her... made famous by such great... things as... um, because err... Paris Hilton!

Paris Hilton, world renowned person of a notoriously disreputable nature is in London, attending the annual Kruff's Dog Parade (www.kruffs.com for all your kennel and shed needs!). When asked if she would be participating in the contest she was quoted as saying: 'What?' she later went on to say 'Shut up!' and 'What?' a further seven or eight times (reports vary). Finally her manager stepped in and informed the press, and hence the world, that she was going to be judging the competition as well as entering in it in a spectacular display of unfairness. When quizzed as to which of her 25 disgusting, tortured handbag-bound, mistreated, forever suffering poodles she would be entering into the competition her manager explained that she would in fact just be entering herself.

Over the years Paris has been called many things, a socialite tramp, whore, bitch, retarded slut, nobody, The City of Love, The Big Apple, a pretentious stuck up prom-queen wannabe, whore, prostitute and whore. Now however it seems she wants to add 'dog' to her already overflowing repertoire of disgrace.

Since she is somehow adored and idolised by half the world and hated to the point of physically being sick by the other half her attendance will undoubtedly overshadow the entire competition and 300 years of dog parading history will be spoiled like so many disgustingly stained Hilton bedsheets. I remember when you could talk about Kruff's with honour and when you could use the term 'champion dog parader' without simply being laughed at.

In her eternal attempts to sully the world and defile the entire human race Paris Hilton has gone too far and it is time we did something about her. All dog owners the world over must unite and boycott the name of Hilton; we shall not stay in their hotels; we shall not eat their cheap subsidised food; we shall not buy their daughters god awful, ear hemorrhaging CD; we shall not watch their homemade sex tapes and we shall no longer idolise the untalented for simply being rich and outrageous.

It is time that respect and idolatry were reserved for the truly talented like Nicole 'Richie' Rich, Katy Perry, Vanilla IcedT, Stalin, 'RnB' legend Seaman Staines, Rebecca Longington and the rest of the 'Fifteen Minute Squad.'

Branching Out...

2010-10-26T20:53:00.002+01:00

I have been told by certain parties that shall remain nameless, owing to a lack of creativity in coming up with names on the spot, that I should really be more in touch with the news and general goings on in the world. Clearly he, or she (I have yet to decide) is wrong but like the old saying goes I figured: 'When in Rome... why not pay the Pope a visit, I hear he rather enjoys tea and scones with passersby, but don't try him on a Wednesday because he gets a bit grouchy after his dialysis and bloodletting treatments, but otherwise pop by any time...'

So I have decided to pay the proverbial Pope a visit and take a look at what is currently going on in the world by reading the BBC website. My my, it is quite a change from my usual reading list of scientific papers, caravaning thesis' and dog enthusiast forums I can tell you!

Robbie Punches Hooligan

For starters I have learned that 'Take That and Robbie confirm tour,' now I can only assume and hope that the writer behind this story was fired shortly after for the obvious grammatical errors, since the BBC have refused to reply to my inquiry on the subject. I presume that what the writer meant to say was '"Take That!" shouts Robbie whilst confirming tour' but alas I cannot be sure. It is a mystery as to why anyone would shout such a thing in any situation other than punching a hooligan for scrawling libelous statements about the police all over your caravan or disciplining a dog with a newspaper for desecrating one's carpet/cherished photo albums/other dogs.

That said I am also at somewhat of a loss as to just what a 'Robbie' is, I went into the story with the natural assumption that he was some kind of semi-fictional crime fighting superhero with 'Take That!' being his catch phrase... however after briefly reading it I am no more enlightened as to his purpose or role in society. Like so many things it remains a mystery.

UK recovery steady, says Osborne

I was most pleased to here this, naturally, despite not knowing what an 'Osborne' is either. We all wish you the best UK, enjoy the grapes, get well soon and give my regards to your family and doctors. That's all I have on that one...

Crows, Crows and More Crows

My eye was caught (in a matter of speaking, fortunately online advertising has yet to develop the means to literally catch one's eye, owing to the lack of opposable thumbs, hands, a physical presence etc) by the story: 'Clever New Caledonian crows go to parents' tool school.'
Now I think I can safely say here that I neither have the slightest idea what the fuck (if you will pardon the rare profanity) this story is about, nor do I have the ability to prevent myself from vomiting up my own spleen, through sheer bloody mindless rage, for long enough to bother finding out. The writer is obviously a timewasting fuckhead with the journalistic skills of a mentally retarded, physically repulsive and venereal disease ridden prostitute who has entirely failed to develop the appropriate skills to suck her way up to the head of the BBC. Merely stumbling off the cock-sucking ladder and breaking every infected rung on the way down to the rat infested sewage pit that is the, not-fit-to-be-called-news, filler section of the BBC.

'It just caught fire'

They are merely the equivalent of the poor, down trodden whore that is forced to service insane, excrement-smeared, racist war veterans in the nursing home of discontent and fear, FEAR! I can only assume that literally nothing else has happened in the world this week to ensure that this story appears on the front page. The numerous wars that American has stumbled into like the down syndrome kid destroying the cake at the party of analogy must have all come to a neat, peaceful conclusion. All the major world religions have finally got over themselves and decided to stop throwing bibles at one another. Even the constant stream of doomsayers that have nothing better to do that to claim, nay insist, that the world is surely going to be blown to pieces very soon by some kind of intergalactic cockrocket (good 80's hairmetal band name that) have at last come to their senses and decided to shut the fuck up. Crows, that is all that is left to report on, officially the age old chain of human progression and endeavour has buckled and snapped like so many poorly thought out metaphors and we have come to a halt.Crows, fucking crows. FEAR!

Additional confusing, out-of-context subtitle

I have never respected the BBC, not after what they did to Saddam Hussein, but now the last, wrinkled up slither of integrity they had has been amputated in some gruesome, medieval, metaphorical cock severing surgery by the insane, rampant, perverted public that they call a fanbase. So filled with wrath at the sheer thought of this story am I that I have been rendered utterly incapable of entirely finishing a proper sentence without it appearing to look like it sounds all wrong and frankly bizarre too, yes. My swear jar is going to be overflowing tonight, to the point where it threatens to fall through the floor of my caravan and be lost to the money-grabbing, illegitimate-snake-in-the-grass, ragamuffin, gypsy-bastard, Gimli son of Gloin, local children.

Ah, much better, now that I have gone blindly off the rails like a train driven by Stevie Wonder, killing hundreds of innocent passengers like so many fury dissolved brain cells, simply at the title, I might actually read the story...

How to Build a Jetpack: A Step by Step Guide to Achieving Awesomeness

2010-10-21T03:32:00.006+01:00

The jetpack has been named by many as the greatest achievement of mankind, and by some as a death-trap pipe dream responsible for more suffering than any disease, ailment, conflict or Canadian pop-vocalist. Each to their own.

Judge for yourself, below are some comments written by some of the greatest men ever to live.

"I attribute my success in life to the jetpack" - Mahatma Gandhi, 1940

"Before jetpacks I had to walk everywhere, now I can't walk, thank you jetpack" - Elvis Presley, 1977

"Holy shit, that guy is on fire, did you see that?" - Abraham Lincoln, 1855

"Jetpack am good!" - Trevor Mcinsley, Just Now

So of course you are now dying to know "How can I build a jetpack for myself?" I shall tell you, and you shall rejoice.

Step 1: Remove the bones from your legs (you are going to lose them soon enough anyway and this will dramatically save on weight).

Step 2: Do some serious research on life insurance and come up with a convincing story as to why you need it (NEVER mention jetpacks).

Step 3: Set aside a large fund to cover your potential damages since insurance policies tend to be full of hidden get out clauses when it comes to jetpack related fatality/homicide. It is also advisable to re-read at least every document at least several times every week (at least) to assure that you have not inadvertently sold your children into slavery, changes like this are often made on the sly (bloody estate agents).

Step 4: Consider what your new name and catchphrase will be eg. Mr Inferno (also 'flame on' whilst kind of cool has been done to death, in some cases literally). Also be aware that there are literally several names that may make you sound like some kind of evil bond character or supervillain when used on television. A good rule of thumb is to consider how the following sentence being read on the news will sound with your name: '[ProposedName] was responsible for the deaths of five people today as well as causing third degree burns to at least a dozen school children and one school bus.'

Step 5: Costume design! This is perhaps the most important step, after all you don't want to be seen flying around in your floral dressing gown. When designing your costume remember that capes, whilst cool, are not overly practical when fire is involved. Also when a rocket is essentially duct taped to your back helmets are about as useful as fire proofing your suit with butter, so keep that in mind, whilst you still can.

Step 6: Build the jetpack, this is actually the easiest step, I find old lemonade bottles filled with lighter fluid a perfect substitute for a fuel tank or 'controlled burning mechanism,' pfft, who needs control when fire is involved. I have said it before and I will say it again: when largely uncontrolled flight is involved fire is really the least of your worries.

Step 7: The test flight, this is usually the shortest part of the process, do not be alarmed if you encounter moderate to severe bleeding during the flight, or more likely after it, this is perfectly natural and it is nothing to be ashamed of. I would give you tips and the like on the correct way of using a jetpack but I am yet to work this out...

Voila! You are now a certified jetpack pilot, after your extensive hospital stay you will be the envy of hundreds of bored commuters as you fly, screaming, overhead and arrive at work before anyone even has time to ask: 'Mummy, why is that man on fire?'

Incidentally if anyone is interested I am selling the movie rights to this idea, I figure it will make a nice feel good kids movie, I mean building a jetpack is no more dangerous than say, taming a dragon.

The Pope 2: This Time it's Personal

2010-10-08T16:57:00.003+01:00

After his visit to Glasgow the Pope has reconsidered his stance on the existence of god and was quoted as saying: "Having grown up under the iron fist of the Nazi regime I am unfortunately all too familiar with the lowest and most distressing sides of humanity." Eye witnesses say he paused as if trying to hold back his dry, ancient tears before going on to say: "I was indoctrinated into an evil organisation and made to do unspeakable things to the poor and the needy, but no longer shall I live my life under the oppressive brown leather sandal that is the Catholic Church. I can now safely say that there is no god."

A stunned silence befell the crowd as he was dragged from the stage by two cardinals whilst a third attempted to gag the 112 year old man (citation needed). Moments later a Popemobile was spotted speeding from the scene, it's windows blacked out and a strange cloud of noxious gas spewing from the seams of the window.

An official spokesman for the Pope said: "The Pope is very old and doesn't always know what he is saying, he has recently been suffering from a terrible affliction that we have yet to come up with a name for, I mean, that we have been unable to diagnose. Anything the Pope may or may not have said should probably be disregarded and also does not represent the opinions or official position of the Catholic Church, The Vatican, Pope INC, Popemobiles LTD, McDonalds or God." He then attempted to assuage the crowd by saying that any false claims he had made were simply as a result of visiting Glasgow, rather than being a former Nazi, current Catholic. Fifty people were injured and five killed in the ensuing riots but the smug little bastard still got away, sorry, impartial Trevor, impartial.

Journalists and passersby outside the Concrete Jungle B&B (For the Sights, Sounds and Smells of Glasgow), where the Pope was reputed to be staying claim to have seen the elderly icon attempting to scale down the side of the building before being dragged back into his room by Catholic security. Several people managed to capture images of the carceral Catholic trying to escape, however most of them were using mobile phone cameras and so the results are ambiguous at best. They are however currently being featured in a modern art installation at the Tate (for more information please see: www.digitalpopephotos.com and www.isawthepopeandalligotwasthislousyphoto.co.uk).

That night an official post went up on the Pope's blog and twitter feed saying: "I am very sorry for my actions and of course did not mean anything I said, I am currently seeking help from a psychiatrist and from God." However just moments later in an apparent attempt to seize back control of his keyboard and online presence another post appeared simply reading: "thgere is nogod there is no god ther is jo god."

It is not yet clear what this means for the Pope or the state of the Catholic church, certainly it is the first notable case in history whereby the Pope has denounced god and his religion. The only other case on record was when Pope Benedict X accidentally spelled out 'there is no god' and 'faith is a lie' in two consecutive games of Catholic Scrabble (like normal Scrabble only with communion wafers instead of the usual plastic or wooden tiles).

In the meantime several spokesmen for the church and the Pope have been trying to restore the idealised image held by the Catholic faith by doing the usual thing of calling condoms evil, denouncing scientific breakthroughs that would save millions of people a slow and painful death and calling pretty well every other group of people (besides Catholics, naturally) Nazis. They are of course entitled to do such outrageous things since they are the master race.

All bow down to the master race.

Next Thing You Know You're Comparing an Entire Minority Group to the Undead...

2010-10-04T06:03:00.002+01:00

The small Bamboo cane you can get from Ikea, you'll know the one I mean if you have been near any high end estate agents or office reception, comes with a label pointing out that it is not edible. This raises a number of very confusing, or perhaps worrying, questions.

Firstly, who is going food shopping in Ikea and is a label on bamboo really enough to stop these people? I say every piece of furniture not only be given a name in Swedish but also a large 'Do Not Eat' label, preferably in English for the sake of comprehension. The old 'But I don't speak Swedish' defense has been used in court one too many times for my liking and I've no intention of making it any more commonplace. Frankly when it starts successfully acquitting people of genocide it has really become beyond a joke. I had always been under the impression that desperate pain-filled murder-fearing screams were the same in any language...

Then there is the issue of why anyone would even contemplate eating bamboo without having expended every other option first. Surely most people do not need this label since they already heed the unspoken warning of the pandas and stay well clear of it. Bamboo leads to bad things, like the extinction of your entire species, it is a 'gateway plant' and soon leads to a diet solely consisting of entirely nutrient devoid plants: grass, daffodils, rice, etc.

Ok so Ikea may get one or two hunger crazed vegans meandering through its stores from time to time looking for their next fix, but if they are desperately starved and perverse enough to start chomping on ornamental bamboo I hardly think they are going to stop for small print.

If this is indeed, as I suspect, the case and the predominant reason for the warning then I suggest strategically placed vegan buffets throughout the main incident hot spots to curve the pre-established bamboo feasting trend. Since non vegans (Norms) may mistake these buffets for the garden section they should be labelled clearly as emergency vegan refueling stations and it should be made obvious that the plants are not for garden purposes, perhaps with 'Do Not Cultivate' labels on each plant...

It is time the world recognised veganity for what it is and started making allowances and adaptations to accepted protocol. Overeating, bulimia and anorexia have long been recognised ailments and the life crippling, antisocial (who ever heard of a vegan barbecue) trend that is veganism should join them. It is not fair to simply expect these people to function in the world like normal, they simply do not have the strength or energy reserves required to make it round a large shop like Ikea without stopping to rest and eat along the way.

I have been led to believe that Vegans need furniture just like Norms but how are they supposed to purchase of it in the cruel modern world we have assembled like so many cheap flat-pack cupboards? The world has been built by Norms, for Norms and the Vegans are increasingly going the way of the Panda in their struggle to survive. We must preserve this once great and noble beast whilst we still can. There are already plenty of poncy Vegan 'food' shops/garden centres around so clearly they are not going to go hungry (figuratively speaking) any time soon. Just like the Panda however it is not starving to death so much as it is standing to death that's the problem.

The Vegan Menace simply has no way to acquire chairs and no significant bone or muscle mass to facilitate standing. Contrary to popular belief Vegans do not sleep hanging upside down from the ceiling, nor do they reside in the coffins of abandoned crypts. Their similarity to vampires is coincidental, both supernatural afflictions being brought on by extremist diets. It is true that, like vampires, they too were once human but unlike the Sanguinarians they still require rest, sitting and for the blood of all creatures to remain indefinitely within them.

Let us address the issue by considering, for a moment (no longer than medically advised), that we are a Vegan.
Let us get into character.
Look down at your hideously deformed body, skin so pasty and thin it almost appears as if no blood flows beneath it. Feel your slip of a belly growling for something, anything with nourishment and flavour to it (do not be tempted to give in to it, in your current mindset it could kill you). Imagine an animal dying. Feel inappropriately angry. Imagine a person dying. Feel inexplicably not quite as angry. Fur is murder fur is murder fur is murder fur is murder fur is murder fur is...

Sorry, it almost took me.

Now we are ready.
You are Vegan. You require chair.
So we go online to buy one, but wait, computers are 20% biological material and the manufacturing process alone kills up to 20 chickens per machine. The poultry must be sacrificed to appease the Binary Gods and persuade them to infuse the machine with a portal to the internet. Only the blood of the innocent will slake their maniacal, digital, thirst. According to our fanatical beliefs this is wrong, no blood can be shed during the manufacture of our computers, sheer lunacy! How do we expect to get online without animal sacrifice? Well of course we can't, Veganists have yet to devise a way and science believes it impossible to build a computer with any less than 5% animal parts. Bloodlust is the only way, only through death will we access our email.

What option is there then? Well of course we could drive to the store, oh no, but wait, our car runs on petrol. Petrol is made from the ancient decomposed remains of plants... and animals. The book of Veganity or 'The Vegil' states that:

'no dinosaur shall you harm, for they are the ultimate animal, to partake of their flesh is a heresy of the highest order.'

Clearly, and by our own bizarre admission, using the already dead parts of these animals as fuel for our cars is a crime. We cannot drive to the store, we must... walk. Walking is, of course, the ultimate challenge for any Vegan, worse even than climbing stairs or making even vaguely interesting conversation points at a dinner party which don't start with 'you shouldn't be eating...', 'meat is...' or 'you do know how bad that brie stuffed, bacon wrapped kitten is for you right?'
Even a simple journey of one mile requires at least two days planning and almost a ton of provisions.

Due to their minuscule, almost subhuman, proportions, a muscle percentage of only 5%, a bone mass of around 10% and an approximate body fat content of -5% travelling can take up to 50 times as long. These figures, despite appearing not to add up, to be conveniently round and to be entirely formed from illogical fiction are most definitely correct, the rest of their body mass is air, yes, Vegans are almost 90% air.

Having negative body fat may well be the dream of all of Hollywood but in reality it means that Vegans use almost all the energy in their meals to digest their next meal. Should they go over an hour without eating they will most likely die. Their capacity to store energy is so poor that they actually only produce body heat whilst eating, just ten minutes after a meal their skin has returned to its cool, almost undead, feel.

During a one mile walk to the furniture store the average Vegan, and they are all average as individuality is the first thing lost to the sickness, will need to eat thirty times. Since all Vegan food is poisonous if not prepared correctly each meal must be cooked for at least an hour. This requires the creature to carry large amounts of food (leaves and dried roots mostly), fuel (again leaves) and cooking equipment (leaves again, somehow). Vegan cooking has often been called one of the cultural wonders of the world, but is scarcely observed in their natural habitat.

You are at journeys end, several days have passed and finally you have arrived at the furniture shop. What now? Well you must act quickly, it is after all only 50 minutes til your next meal time and that will take an hour to cook, leaving you minus ten minutes to browse the wares. If you try to cook inside or near the store you will be arrested for crimes against nature and for unlawful pollution. You must also remember to avert your eyes at the sight of any leather or imitation leather chairs, (looking at leather products, except live cows, for any length of time causes retinal bleeding in Vegans and in extreme cases fatal brain hemorrhage). This startling fact, coupled with the ban on sacrilegious dinosaur burning is the reason you'll never find a Vegan biker gang. Unlike vampires of course, which if TV is to be believed will occasionally form a biker gang for unknown, assumedly evil, purposes. The store manager has kicked you out for desperately trying to roll up and smoke a Wholemeal Organic Lettuce and Carrot Organic Vegetable Panini you had stashed in your pocket for emergencies.

Several days later you arrive back at home, hungry, much poorer and still without chair.

You stand in your corner and let unconsciousness take you.

Will you ever wake again?

Rejected Ideas 7 (The Good, The Bad and... The Something Else)

2010-08-05T00:19:00.000+01:00

Good Internets and Bad Internets
This idea stems from reading a certain question and answer site, I guess that's probably the correct term for it, for legal reasons Yahoo has prevented me from naming the 'answer' site in question (or should that be the question site in answer?) No.

I'll start again.

On the cowboy noise named answer site someone posted the following:
'What is 175,00 EUR in Aus dollars?'
Now my question would be why post this and expect people to answer it, something which may take hours or days when you could just search 'conversion' or in fact anything similar on www.google.com, or perhaps www.[CowboyCelebration].com and immediately find a site to immediately give you an immediate answer.

This question is, of course, almost as redundant as the original one because the answer quite simply is that the individual is clearly too stupid to use the internet.

Therefore I propose IQ and general aptitude tests be carried out by all ISPs before their patrons be allowed online. Based on people's results they would be given access to either the 'Good Internet' or the 'Bad Internet.'

The Bad Internet would be filled with the sort of general crap required by people of limited mental calibre: videos of dancing puppies, teeth-brushing guides, Britney Spears impersonations, '50 Centres' videos etc. It has also been suggested to me that the Bad Internet should not contain any mention of, reference to or clips from the 'Back to the Future' mega trilogy* as they may confuse the unworthy users. In fact it might be necessary to remove all information of time machines from this version of the internet, I mean you wouldn't give a chimp a gun would you?

*Mega Trilogy: A series of 4-6 films, Source: Oxford Anglishe Dictionary**

The Good Internet would not need to be some data bank for geniuses (like myself) because it frankly does not require above average intelligence to show just a modicum of common sense online. The Good Internet would basically be the same as the regular internet only without all the morons and subsequent moronic content littering it. Also the Good Internet could be almost entirely free of pop-up adverts and spam emails since it is largely idiots that are the targets of such things.

**A brief search has revealed to me that there are in fact only three films and as such it is a regular trilogy, not a mega one and I didn't even have to ask a random stranger on the internet to find out! I believe I may have mistakenly been thinking of the spoof/sketch show/hardcore gay pornography version/sequel/prequel/midquel 'Cock to the Future' in which Marty and the Doc get raped in prison. I still maintain that 'Back to The Wall' would have been a better name but despite my heated emails, letters, phonecalls and even personal visits to the producer, director and lead homosexual 'Benedix Cumberbund' (I don't think that's his real name)... they refuse to change it. I have invited Benedix round for tea next week to discuss the matter but he has yet to reply. I'm not gay.

Anyway, I forgot I was writing this a suggestion and not in my diary. What was I on about again?
Yes, good internets and bad internets, what do you think?

WDA Response:

Whilst I agree that it would be nice to browse the internet free from bothersome questions and content I think that the only way these 'people' are going to learn is through trial and error. In other words if we limit the content available to these 'people' they are never going to change. Also I suggest you install a pop-up blocker.

I think your comparison to chimps and guns regarding videos about time machines may be slightly paranoid, I mean reading about time machines is one thing but have you ever tried building one? Oh wait, you have haven't you, that's what happened to all the trees on Salisbury Plain.

Also it appears that you are mistakenly thinking of 'Benedict Cumberbatch' the new star of Sherlock Holmes and not the 'lead homosexual' from Cock to the Future. The role of Marty was in fact played by Rams Itinhim and the leader of the prison rape gang was of course Ben Affleck.

Idea Rejected

The End is Nigh, 2012 Looms. Repent! Repent!

2010-07-22T18:23:00.004+01:00

2012

The End of All Things

Finally proof of the upcoming apocalypse has been found, the world as we know it will come to a dreadful end in the Gregorian calendar year 2012. Fire shall rain from the sky, the oceans will rise up and turn to boiling, putrid black blood that will spill over the lands and drown all life as it congeals in our lungs. The skies shall shatter as a deluge of death drowns the Earth, civilisation will crumble and humanity will humble before the cataclysmic might of the universe.

I was naturally a sceptic, I denied it out of logic and disbelief but now any wishful doubt I harbour is through fear alone. I can already feel it beginning, I see the transformation around us, I see the world turning to ash, bones to dust, and life to ruin. I feel the blood boiling in my veins and my eyes bulge with the pain, the end is coming, it is confirmed and fear is all that fills me. Repent now I tell you, repent before it is too late!

What confirmation did I receive you ask?

Was it a message from some divine being?

From god perhaps?

Did I send the message to my present self from the future?

Were extraterrestrials somehow involved?

If so did they resemble hyper-intelligent dog like beings?

Am I ever going to get to the point?

I cannot say.

Words alone cannot explain its full magnitude and instead it is best that you witness the message, the confirmation and the truth with your own eyes. Be warned though, it is a truly shocking image to behold, your life will change and your fears will overcome you.

I shall show you now and you shall drop to your knees and cower before it in terrified glory.

The Message.

The Confirmation.

The Truth.

...

Now you see.

Now you know.

Soon they all will.

I know, I know, the image is terrible, but let us study it for a second before averting our eyes from agony once again.

Why would my new card expire in 2012 if not because that is when the world will end?
It is the only logical reason, there can be no other explanation.
A coincidence you say?
Be not foolish when the sake of the world is at stake.

June 2012, that is when I shall die, it is when death will find us all.

I, of course, contacted the bank in order to find out the exact day but they refused to comment and merely tried to reassure me several times that 'Our debit cards are not apocalyptic prophecies' and when I asked to be put through to the prophecy department they simply laughed. Clearly the banks are all in on it. This terrible blow to the world will be delivered by their hand, they have cut our throats to drink of our financial blood but uncontent they intend to deliver a final, crushing blow to our skulls.

Why?

I have my theories, you will note the banks 'logo' and how closely it resembles a 'recycling sign.'
What are they recycling?
It certainly isn't money, could it be a sign that they worship an ancient religion that believes in recycling the Earth?
Do they intend to destroy the planet to build a new one?
The symbol has three shapes, has this already happened three times?
Or will this time be the third?
Is it counting down, will it in fact be the second?

Who can say?

So now we see the terrible truth, you might call it an 'inconvenient' one perhaps. By the way I am selling the rights to my film script about this at the moment, I'll start the bidding at £4m.

'Psychic Paul'

2010-07-18T22:44:00.010+01:00

'PIG TRIAL! PIG TRIAL! PIG TRIAL!'

I read today that 'Psychic Paul' the octopus made famous by predicting winners in the 'World Cup' is to be canonised by the pope for his services to humanity. Where I gleaned this information from is not important, just be assured that it is most definitely not an unreputable source of misinformation.

Personally I find the whole affair rather disturbing, not because an optocus has predicted the winners so accurately, chance events like this occur all the time. What I find disturbing is the way that people are revering the phenomenon as if it were some kind of miracle. It is strangely reminiscent of the case in which a medieval village elected a pig as their mayor when they found that all its hair had grown in just one spot, a spot in the shape of Jesus. The swine was revered for some months and much of the town was demolished and replaced with mud pools as per its orders, or the orders as they imagined them to be anyway. I am rather hoping any similarities between the octacat and that ill-fated pig will stop here and things won't go quite as far. Several months after the town had been seeded with concealed truffles, as per mayor piggies request he was heinously executed when someone pointed out that the patch of fur now bore more resemblance to Judas than Jesus.

Let's just hope that no one disputes the final scores after studying the slow motion replays or Mr Octopolots is going to be in for a rough time.

Of course you have heard the full story hundreds of times before, I am sure, after all it is a popular subject for Christmas specials of programs such as 'Eastenders' and 'The Bill!'
However one aspect you might not be so familiar with, unless you are from a legal background (lawyer, police officer, criminal, etc)... is just how often this case is used in high end law suits as a defence. The medieval trial that led to the animal's execution was of course a sham, but then any court case in which a pig is the defendant, god is the witness and that ends with a barbecue is likely going to be an unfair one.

The story is so well known in the legal fraternity and in the general public that the case is scarcely cited or even mentioned but it has led to the use of several popular phrases relating to the ancient case. Such as:

'Jesus Shaving' - This is often used to make allegations that evidence has been tampered with or planted.
'Stop pulling the pigs tail' - Stop agitating the defendant/witness/police.
'Like a pig in mud' - Similar to 'Like a psychopath in entrails,' this is used to describe a happy defendant and as we all know happy means guilty.
'Now you're really shaving the Messiah' - Taking the piss.
'PIG TRIAL! PIG TRIAL! PIG TRIAL!' - This phrase is often chanted repeatedly by jurors, witnesses and lawyers when the justification of the trial has fallen into disrepute. This most famously led to the acquittals of O.J.Simpson and Michael Jackson (now deceased) and has subsequently been banned in all but 10 states of America.

Trevor Sells Botox!

2010-07-10T18:56:00.003+01:00

Aging? Realising you're going to die?

Who said beauty was only skin deep?

Try Botox for a short term boost of ignorance, if it's good enough for toxic bacteria, it's good enough for your face, bliss guaranteed.

Next time you look in the mirror and wonder why there's a troll looking back at you don't go looking for the nearest bridge to hide under, simply remember our motto:

'Botox: costs shitloads and makes you look like you're made from some kind of hideous plastic.'

"But Trevor I don't think I can afford your miraculous and entirely risk free treatment.*"

Fear not good citizen! Did you know that your kidney could fetch up to £1000 on the black market? That could keep you in Botox for almost a year, a small price to pay.
Remember: your skin is the only organ you need!

Don't believe me? Then listen to some of our recommendations:

"Botox was like the duct tape on my prom date, it made everything easier and afterwards my face felt kind of sticky."
"I chose Botox because you can't Photoshop real life!"
"Now I only have one scrotum."
"Before Botox I was never asked if I was a burns victim and/or if I had undergone major reconstructive surgery!"

Botox: What are you waiting for?

*Potential risks of Botox include: hepatitis, malaria, syphilis, face melting, groin-grabbing and death... which frankly might be more palatable than those other options.Never give a gypsy Botox.

Raoul Moat and The Amazing Technicolour Dream Coat

2010-07-09T22:20:00.003+01:00

In recent memory The Great Island of Britania (May it be Praised) or 'Britain' for short has seen a lot of curious and atrocious events befall its hallowed shores. There was the rampage of Derek Bird, the sudden and unexpected disappearance of Tony Blair and of course the tragic, drug addled killing spree committed by Patrick Swayze, the popular star of Ghost, Dirty Dancing, Road House and Titanic 2: Revenge of Jaws, to name just a few. No one will forget the actor's infamous last stand against the police and certainly Kent will never recover, even to this day undetonated explosives left by Patrick are still claiming lives.

It looks like we may be set to see another such incident unveil as the ex-convict, former bouncer and star of children's TV Raoul Moat is in a heated stand-off with police.

Now despite an advanced degree I am no psychological profiler (the Arch Bishop made sure of that) but I have studied the case of this individual recently and have come to some conclusions. Ignoring the obvious one of course that he is a deranged lunatic.

An ex-girlfriend had this to say regarding his old letters:

"The only time I saw his dark side was in his letters. I remember he once talked about someone who was going to get raped hideously by bears. He was saying how he and his mates were going to release crazed bears into someone's house before gathering the corpse and ritualistically eating it because they'd fallen out with somebody and needed to purge the evil from his soul."

I am sure we can all agree that if you were involved in a relationship with someone who said things like this you would quickly get away from him before he did something unspeakable, but no, she went on to say:

"I never really paid it any attention, until now, though I did wonder where they would get the bears from."

Clearly this 'Raoul' has a history of violence, although I should point out that no allegations were ever brought against the bears.

Before this event began the 'suspected gunman,' because apparently owning, firing and indeed going on a gun fueled rampage through the countryside in a war on the police is not proof enough to commit to his identity... sorry, I'll try again. Before the event Raoul posted the following on his facebook page, and luckily the Police Blog Squad managed to catch it in the nick of time:

"Just got out of jail, I've lost everything, my business, my property and to top it all off my lass has gone off with someone else.Watch and see what happens."

Three people liked it and two people replied with 'lol' and 'rofl' respectively. I find facebook to be a confusing and scary place at the best of times, but when armed psychopaths start using it as a medium to deliver messages of vengeance to the police... well I don't know what I think about that. It seems a bit odd to inform people of your intentions prior to committing a crime, certainly when I go on my shotgun killing spree through Cambridgeshire on the 21st of August I am hardly going to publicize it on here first.

Schrödinger’s Cat: Some More Palatable Explanations

2010-07-08T14:13:00.009+01:00

I was recently trying to explain the principle of Schrödinger’s Cat to some primary school children during one of my court appointed visits to the local facility. Unfortunately the teacher would not let me use the classes' guinea pig and my briefcase as an example on account of it being 'cruel.' In retrospect I do find myself in agreement with Mrs Jumbala, I mean a guinea pig is nothing like a cat and it would have voided the purpose of the experiment. Fair do's.

Anyway, ignoring my troubled life for a moment I have come up with some alternate explanations to help explain the principle to you 'laymans.'

Zombie
If a cat is placed in a sealed box with a vial of poison that will break open at a random time and a vial of genetically engineered virus that reanimates dead tissue then it is impossible to say whether the cat is alive, dead or a zombie and so it can be thought of as all three.

Warcraft
If you place a cat in a sealed box with a Savoury Deviant Delight (which it will definitely eat) then it cannot be known if the cat has turned into a pirate or a ninja and so it can be thought of as both.

Pregnant
If a pregnant cat is placed in a sealed box in the middle of labour then it can be thought of as both pregnant and not pregnant simultaneously. Incidentally if you place a vial of poison in the box with it at the same time then you get a visit from the RSPCA.

Religious
If you place a Christian cat and a Muslim cat in a sealed box together and are hence unable to observe the resulting conflict then it cannot be said with certainty which cat has won the religious war and so both Christianity and Islam can be said to be the superior religion. This idea is especially close to my heart since my entire family was killed in a religious feud (no charges were ever brought against me) I have suggested this solution a number of times to religious leaders on both sides of the dispute but I am always met with massive negativity, hostility and eventually violence, much like my sexual advances towards my ex-wife. Apparently settling ‘centuries old religious conflicts’ using ‘cats in a box’ is not a valid solution. Pah!

Fat
If you place a cat in the fridge and close the door then the fridge light can be thought of as both on and off at the same time. The cat can always be thought of as cold however and your chicken is definitely gone.

Something Very Wrong with the World...

2010-06-29T16:30:00.001+01:00

I have come to the conclusion that there is something fundamentally wrong with the world and that I am the only one to notice it.

This revelation came to me very recently when observing a game of 'Fotball' in a pub, I do not recall who was playing or indeed anything that happened in the game as I was most perplexed by a rather unpleasant low frequency buzzing noise that filled the pub. My response I suppose was much the same as most people's would be as I set about searching for and indeed removing the bee that I was so sure had become trapped in my ear. Alas there was nothing in my ear but a small piece of broken cotton bud, some engine oil and a small strand of dog hair which appeared to be from my dear departed George. Needless to say I replaced the hair in order to frame it later and set about discovering the source of this drilling sound.

It soon became apparent to me that it was in fact coming from the TV set (it was in the corner of the room hung above a poster that said 'Come On You Blues,' yet another conundrum). Naturally I climbed up on a chair, pulled out my number 6 screwdriver (the orange one not the red one) and began to remove the case in order to fix what I was sure must be a loose wire in the speakers. This prompted an entirely unfounded fountain of hate from the hooligans scattered around the television set, I could understand little of what the clamouring masses were saying. I had however studied chimps in Borneo, Somerset and soon realised from their bared teeth and the precised body language involved in the way they threw the bottles that they would like me to get down.

This was, of course, more or less the point at which the barman led me outside politely, by the neck and told me to 'piss off back to my sodding caravan.' I made a mental note that should my experimental work with high-intensity laser induced black holes ever pay off to test it here at this pub before walking the three miles home.

I have since found out that the source of the noise was in fact a 'vuvuzela' which as I have been led to believe is some form of plastic trumpet, how primitive.

Doggington Peas

2010-06-27T11:59:00.000+01:00

Good news! I've found Paul. He was running free on the Salisbury plains, no doubt looking for his master. Somebody had daubed 'Timothy was here' on his side in what looked like blood. Timothy Scalextric declined to comment. John is looking much more healthy as well. He's been eating plenty of food and drinking water. Timothy let me know that he hadn't been feeding or giving water to the dogs whilst I was gone because he "ain't no mum and they should support themselves, the hairy bastards and besides no one told him he was supposed to." In the future I will look for other house sitters.

Timothy Scalextric left my caravan today after his extended stay, after punching me and taking my wallet as 'living in this dumphole fee'. It seems perfectly fair to me, I only wish he didn't take the photographs of my mother. Finally, I can get back to my important work!

I telephoned the World Doctors Association last night to tell them I was back. The leading World Doctor, Reginald Track was very enthusiastic about my return. He seemed particularly eager that I should get back to work immediately, telling me to 'go away and please stop phoning him'! He is clearly as excited as I am about how near to completion my latest idea is. I have developed a pencil, with another pencil next to it so when one runs out, you will still have a pencil! Soon, the name McInsley will be a household name I'm sure. I got the idea when drawing the blueprints for my helicopter and running out of pencil. Now I have enough pencil to finish not only my helicopter, but perhaps my time machine.

Trevor Mcinsley's Top Five...

2010-06-20T15:00:00.003+01:00

Having been travelling all over the world recently and meeting a lot of new people I have made many observations into the behaviour of the natives and so I have compiled some of my findings and now present:

Trevor Mcinsley's Top Five Disturbing Conversation Starters
1. "What's that film where Samuel L Jackson plays the black man?"
2. "I have a dead body in my basement."
3. "So the bathroom is down the stairs, right at the washing machine and then to the left of the door marked 'Dungeon' right?"
4. "I was Justin Timberlake in a past life."
5. "Is that blood on your shirt?"

Trevor Mcinsley's Top Five Psychotic Chat-Up Lines
1. "You've got really great skin, mind if I wear it?"
2. "Your eyes are amazing, I can't wait to add them to the collection."
3. "Wow, I can't believe I met someone like you, three in one week, what are the odds?"
4. "What do you mean 'why are there bones all over my floor'?"
5. "Yes that's blood on my shirt, what of it?"

Sorry, I spent a disproportionate amount of my time in the south of America, I'll try to compile some of my more palatable findings next time.

Rejected Ideas 6

2010-06-20T12:00:00.004+01:00

Although all my blog posts from my tour are being held as evidence I was able to send several ideas to the WDA and subsequently get several ideas rejected which I can now post here so you may bathe in their glory.

Autonomic Sheep Shearing Device

The motivation behind this invention is quite simple really, although it does relate to one of the most tragic moments of my entire life up until last Tuesday when [MainCharacter] from [PopularShow] was [KilledHorribly] by [Bears], I was absolutely distraught, even my dogs could do little to console me.

Like all of my best ideas this one is spurred by my love for my dogs which is entirely plutonic and has never been picketed by a radical Christian movement. Never.
On countless occasions one or more of my dogs has become entangled in one of my neighbour’s automatic sheep shearing machines because the lazy bastard can’t be bothered to shear them himself. His ‘machine’ is nothing more than a dozen or so electric shearers taped inside a small tunnel which the sheep are then led through. Barbaric if you ask me. Unfortunately this tunnel is identical to the one that I have trained my dogs to use to escape the caravan in case of emergencies (fire, flood, locusts etc).

I can’t say how many times one of my dogs has returned home cold and naked after that terrible man's machine driven perversions, I literally cannot say how many times as the trauma of each event has seriously scarred my brain. In fact just to attempt to recall any of the occasions results in a serious headache followed by a brief period of vomiting, such as the one coming up now.
...

...

...
Apologies, I feel much better now and I shall get back to my invention at once. I think with just a few simple tweaks such as a wireless neural animal interface and a diamond-edged micron accurate lathe-shear the design could be vastly improved. I was also thinking we could breed a new species of ant that would collect the fallen wool and roll it into balls but rejected this idea as being too farfetched. The basic idea is that the machine will interface with the sheep via the neural interface which will in turn explain to it how short it wants its wool to be cut. This will vastly benefit the sheep by allowing it to better regulate its own body temperature and grooming habits, the farmer will also benefit by requiring far less labour and only slightly increased running costs and initial unit purchase price of roughly £200,000. Most importantly however this machine will ensure that no dog ever gets its hair unwillingly cut again, thus solving one of the most widespread and destructive influences of modern agriculture. I have foreseen only one issue with the device and that is the homeless issue, naturally no farmer wants the living blight perusing his land looking for a free haircut and so I propose two additional ideas to deal with this which can be found below.

I eagerly await your approval.

Homeless Solution 1: Mobile Soup Kitchens

Quite simply we build a fleet of mobile soup kitchens which will roam the land and essentially herd up the homeless who will of course follow in its wake like the sheep they are (PUN!). Using this method they could be led away from vital areas such as farms, hospitals and schools to be taken elsewhere, this would work fine on its own but in the long term it may be more financially sound to use this as the first step and the following practise as a 'final solution.'

Homeless Solution 2: MASS CULL
Quite simply we round up the homeless and kill them on mass, I think that is about all the explaining I need to do here...

WDA Response:

Perhaps it is just me but I have never had an issue with my dog becoming 'entangled' in a sheep shearing device. Hold on, I'll ask around the office...

...

No, no one here seems to have had that problem before and Jeff does run a dog and sheep farm/sanctuary in Wiltshire on his days off. I'm not really sure there is a market for your device Trevor, perhaps you can design and build one with your own finances for your neighbour but the WDA will not fund this research.

Also I have to say that I find your ideas regarding the 'homeless issue' to be deeply distasteful and I can't help being reminded of a notorious dictator from many years ago.
Now I must bid you adieu whilst I go watch some hardcore pornography to get this image of Margaret Thatcher out of my head.

Idea Rejected

Unwise Decisions

2010-06-19T16:41:00.000+01:00

I’m starting to wonder if it was a good idea to leave Timothy Scalextric in charge of my dogs while I went touring. John is very ill, I can’t find Paul and Ringo seems to have become a rabbit. Timothy assures me that Ringo has always been a rabbit and I can’t find any pictorial evidence to disprove him.

I met Timothy a few years ago whilst enjoying a pint of Bovril at a pub in Salisbury. He sat at the chair across from me and asked if I would ‘give him all my money because he had a knife’. We’ve been firm friends ever since. Sometimes I wonder if he says mean things about me behind my back though. I think it’s because I haven’t made him a member of the World Doctor’s Association. I told him that he needed to be more world doctorish and he just threw his can of Guinness at me and told be to stop being such a ‘girl tits’. He doesn’t have many qualifications.

He leapt at the chance to house sit for me when I told him about the tour. It was convenient for him because the burned out supermarket he used to live in was being made into a car park. I think I should have been more hesitant though. Timothy can be very messy. I’m going to need to replace my caravan’s carpet as there is a lot more sick and tobacco spit on it than usual. The sofa is very damp and there’s an overwhelming smell of kerosene as well. Timothy again claims that this was how I left it, but I think he lies sometimes. He didn’t seem best pleased to see me when I got back. He wouldn’t let me into the caravan for a few hours and kept shouting “the bastard’s back! The bastard’s back!”. He is such a joker! I hope he leaves soon though because he insists he needs to sleep in my bed because of his back problems.

I’ll go and look for Paul.

I'm Back/The Yorkshire Terriers

2010-06-19T13:00:00.001+01:00

Well what a year it has been! What have I done you ask? I've only been touring around the world with Cornwall’s second largest over 50’s folk band! So yes, I had to hang up my scientist’s suspenders for a whole year as I toured all over the world in my caravan and what a year it was.

I know, I know, I’m sure I am making you all jealous so I’ll set aside my celebrity status, stop bragging for a moment and tell you all about it, that way maybe you can feel special like myself...

The band ‘The Yorkshire Terriers’ (now deceased) were doing their farewell tour before retiring to a life of farming, tractor maintenance and other ex-folk band suitable hobbies. Since I went to school with the lead singer/washboard player I generously offered to come along to provide a well needed scientific mind to the tour. Well needless to say they couldn’t have been happier to have me along: ‘well err... I guess you can help out backstage, just don’t touch anything’ were Mr Terrance Tarmer’s actual words to me! To think I hadn’t seen him since I was 8 and now here I was managing his world tour! How time flies.

It is of course a shame that the tour was cut short, and I am sorry for those of you that missed it as a result but I should point out that a police inquest found me not responsible for the deaths of any of the five band members. Which reminds me: I must look up the terms ‘Diminished Responsibility’ and ‘Mentally Unstable’ later on my internet. Of course you all want to hear the gory details as to how this world renowned band met its end but I will not do that to them, they were friends each and every one. There was a minor technical accident after one particularly successful ‘gig’ at Sunnyside Up Retirement Home and Funeral Care Specialist that was the cause of this whole grisly affair. I’ll spare you the boring facts regarding finances and such but I shall point out that I successfully negotiated a 25% discount on the burial costs with Sunnyside Up so there’s a least a silver lining to this grim tale. Yes I know by now you are all screaming to know how your favourite band left this world and I will get back to it. Basically I suggested that their ‘sound’ could be a little more modern, acoustic bass and guitars are all very well but electric... ‘that’s what the kids like’ I said.

So I tinkered around with some car batteries and some amps, I stripped wires and used a whole roll of duct tape and eventually managed to ‘amp up’ their instruments. This is of course how the incident occurred, as it turns out a washboard can only be made so loud and electrical insulation is not one of their key design features. Now some minor washboard related electrocution is not enough to kill a whole band I hear you scream, one member perhaps but a whole band? No... but, like a sick child at a multimillionaire pop-stars private theme park, there is, of course, more to this story and it just so happens that 80% moonshine is flammable, who knew? Sure as a scientist I probably should have been aware of this minor detail but another one of its extraordinary effects is the ability to render one’s mind all but empty, to the point where replacing an acoustic guitars strings with live wires seems like a good idea.

Please do not mourn for The Yorkshire Terriers for they died as they would have lived: on fire and surging with power, quite the farewell tour.

Rejected Ideas 5 (aka the day I drank draincleaner)

2009-10-10T17:00:00.001+01:00

The Trevinian Calendar

I have finally come up with a foolproof way of reducing the confusion caused by some months having 30 days and others having 31. Its so simple, all we have to do is make it so each month alternates between the two. Much like how February changes between having 27 days to 24 every 4 years and 16 to 9 every 20 years. Unlike the downright stupid system of leap years my system makes it quite impossible to forget how many days a month has ever again!

Each month will change between 30 days and 31 days every X amount of months. Where X is the number of letters in the months name.

Basically April will change between having 30 days and 31 days every 5 months and September will change every 9 months. And so on for all of the other months, except of course February and July. The number of days in July will be decided each year based on a public vote held in June. This will allow people to decide if summer is to be longer or shorter that year based on the weather.

So you see in this way there really is no way of forgetting how many days there are in a month, all you have to do is count the letters!

WDA Response:

Did you accidentally pour the drain cleaner in your tea again Trev?

Idea Rejected

Time

Please make sure you have read my earlier suggestion relating to the Trevinian Calendar first, alternatively if you have already finished reading this idea then the order in which you have read them will probably be obsolete anyway.

As you have probably realised by now/then the Trevinian Calendar was not merely created to simplify things but also to facilitate time travel. By harnessing the power of time we are able to travel with it, much as the mighty salmon travels in the wet, as foretold by the great prophet David Hasslehoff in his first address to the masses.

I now wish to quote that great sermon if I may. '...and low and behold the David Hasslehoff did speak "blessed are they who walk amongst the ants for they know not now that all they do is blessed, not blessed like a sandwich but blessed like a holy sandwich, should one be able to imagine such a thing" and low the Hasslehoff did conjure a holy sandwich before the crowds eyes and they thought it good.'

David Hasslehoff knew then that the secret of time travel was encoded amongst that paragraph, for that is why he chose the words that he did. One merely has to know where to look.

WDA Response:

Seriously, Trevor, just take a break for a bit would you, you're scaring me.

Rejected Ideas 4

2009-10-03T17:00:00.002+01:00

Debilitating Police Siren

I am surprised this idea has not already been put into production! Do not fear, Jeff my lad (as a pirate might say) I have already checked online and it does not exist (pirate probably wouldn't say that bit ((cyber pirate might))).

All that 'wah wah wah wah wah' is so inefficient. It is obvious to me that what the police really need is a Debilitating Police Siren. I have designed a system that I call the Amplifying Relative-G High Frequency Emitting Kit (ARGH FEK). When activated the system will immediately emit an extremely high frequency that is inaudible but which alters the mind. Upon being effected by this signal everyone will instantly lose consciousness and enjoy a nice relaxing sleep, as opposed to being woken up by the siren!

...and of course since criminals will also be affected crime will immediately halt in that area, so much so that it may be prudent never to turn it off!

WDA Response:

How many times have we told you, stop naming things to spell out silly words with their acronyms.
Really that is the least prudent problem this time...

Has it not occurred to you that if all drivers are knocked out simultaneously that there will be hundreds of fatal road accidents?
That is really all there is to say about this one, you disappoint me Trevor.

Idea Rejected

Debilitating Police Siren Resubmission

Three Times. I have developed a solution which solves the problems previously raised with this idea.
Obviously it is impractical to cause hundreds of car crashes at once, I had not thought of this eventuality, how could the police possibly hope to catch the fleeing criminal, or 'baddystalion', if the roads are blocked.

Therefore if we fitted a similar device to a police tank they would simply be able to roll over cars that blocked their path. If we simultaneously upgrade all cars to have a solid titanium body and full airbag coverage inside we should be able to limit deaths to the absolute minimum. Effectively changing the road network into a large scale game of bumpercars, with tanks.

WDA Response:

Idea Rejected

Terrible News Story...

2009-09-27T13:00:00.001+01:00

Having read this terrible article I, like the rest of the country, am in shock. I was actually privy to this information a few hours earlier than everyone else, since we at the World Doctors Association have these stories come into us before they are released to the public. We ran some quick tests using mice, rats and cobras and deduced that the shock factor generated by this story, whilst high, should not actually be fatal to anyone.

None of the dozen mice or rats were caused any harm having read the story but we did lose a number of cobras (for legal reasons I cannot disclose the actual amount), whilst we were sad to lose Jeff, Steve and Pete it was a vital test. Cobra's are far more sensitive to disturbing news stories than most animals not including humans, or people... or squid (the damn uncaring bastards). Had we have lost more cobra's then we may have pulled the story but we consulted the Cobra Death Percent Chart (CBDPE) and realised that it was still within acceptable amounts.

Since we do get the news before all you common folk though I am pleased to announce that all 300 pairs of handcuffs were returned undamaged and all 300 pairs of childrens were also fine. The suspect is currently on route to the WDA where we will carry out some psychology on him. More info coming soon...

Rejected Ideas 3

2009-09-26T13:10:00.000+01:00

The 'Everything Fixer'

So basically I was thinking about all the major issues in the world, the food crisis in Africa, overpopulation, global warming, the oxygen crisis in Africa, pollution etc.
I was trying to think of one way in which we could solve them all, up all night I was.
Then it came to me. Are you ready?
Hibernation for Humans, its so simple. We merely find a way of making people able to survive hibernation, say for 6 months at a time and then everyone alternates, 6 months awake, 6 months asleep. With only half the worlds population active at any one time all our problems would be solved. There would be plenty of food to go around, things would be less crowded and the birth rate would decrease, there would be less pollution being created and the bees would come back to life.

Basically with this one simple goal we can save the world. See you in Florida, Woof!

WDA Response:

Right well 10/10 for thinking outside the box again Trev but as far as solutions go creating a system that would allow people to hibernate for 6 months at a time, and then distributing it to everyone in the world.... seems a little, unrealistic. Also if you could come up with a better name for the project that might help, as it is 'The Everything Fixer' is a little vague.

If you could perhaps come up with some ideas as to how this might be accomplished we would be glad to re-review it. The file that was attached to this covering note didn't seem to enlighten me any. In fact it just seemed to be a transcript of a Postman Pat episode, a diagram of a salmon and a pie chart with three categories, Awake, Asleep and Dead.

Quite what to make of this I was unsure, perhaps the wrong file was sent?

Idea Rejected

Resubmission: The Stuff Fixinator

Well to be honest I haven't really though of a way it could be accomplished, I was just kind of thinking we could give everyone lots of sleeping pills.

The files I sent were correct, although it was the wrong episode of Postman Pat.
I had meant to send an episode that never made it out of the censors office in which Pat goes on a two week binge and then just starts drugging people by spiking the envelope licky bit with tranquilisers. For some reason the BBC deemed it unsuitable for children, in fact I believe the actual words used were 'He's trying to corrupt our children! Kill him! Kill him!' or rather that's what I could make out from the security tape. It seems the writer was fired shortly after.

Anyway, my point was, the episode does raise some interesting points on the intricacies of drugging an entire village without fatality. I am sure you noticed that the 'Dead' section of my pie chart was a very small percent, this represents the people who will spend a small time dead during the 6 month drug dosings.

I have added the correct episode of Postman Pat now, feel free to read the other though, its the one where he catches the serial killer who was sending body parts to a Chinese restaurant through the post, children's TV was much better back in the day.

Election Fever!

2009-09-22T19:10:00.000+01:00

Like virtually everyone else at the moment I have election fever!

So, who am I rooting for?
Well it is a tough decision after all, on the one hand there is a scary old man with an insane redneck as a companion and on the other is an intelligent rational person who seems to make speeches that sound good but ultimately don't mean anything.

Lets look at the contenders:

John McCain and Crazy Redneck-Rambo Woman

Well there are definitely several benefits to voting this candidate into power but I suppose it ultimately comes down to what you want from a leader. Here is what he promises to provide:

War with Russia
War with China
War with France
War with Canada
War with America
War with Mars
An end to democracy (at last!)
Tanks!!
Reduced education budget
Increased military spending
Ban on Science
Imposed Religion
Tanks!!
Jesus
War!

John McCain has also vowed to send Sarah Palin into Baghdad if the situation doesn't improve.
I would advice voting for this man if you are feeling very depressed and are looking to bring about the destruction of yourself and the planet.
So that's something I guess.

Barack Obama

Well this contender certainly has a lot to offer including:

Use of big words in speeches
Not being a crazy redneck
Not having a crazy redneck assistant
Even more ironic and confusing rules on the politically correct usage of the word 'Black'
Speeches
War!
Education
Mexico
Probably not destroying the world in nuclear war
More Speeches
Tanks!
Number 12
He is black
He is black
He is black

As you can see this would definitely be a good choice for a mr president but of course far more important than his policies is the fact that he is black. This seems to be the main topic on everyone's lips in a way that apparently isn't racist. If this were any other situation then constantly discussing someones ability to do a job based on their race would be racist, apparently in this situation it is OK though.

Alfred Giant the Third

Now this really was a surprise candidate, as I am sure some of you are aware the 'traditional' number of presidential candidates is two, however this year special allowances were made to let a third person run. Little has been said about this contestant so I'll give a brief run down on him now.

Alfred Giant the Third was chosen to run for president as part of a controversial equal rights for the handicapped program. Alfred was born with a debilitating illness called Hypergigantic Transemomorphic Antidwarfism or HGTEMAD for short. As the name suggests the disease causes the victim to grow exponentially based on how happy they are. In layman's terms the partial lack of a chromosome and underdeveloped pituitary gland result in the cocooning of the Broab with hypergluconian cells known as 'Joggerpods' which hamper the brains ability to regulate its size. If the subject is happy then the cerebral cortex produces microscopic sentient bacteria know as Megafixyplanktons that create an antispastic effect and reduce the inflammation caused by the Joggerpods, this results in the subject's Broab regaining control over the bodies size, relative to one third of an inch.

As well as the body altering effects of the disease it is also prone to causing any number of physical and mental ailments, as a result of the stretching of cells and in some cases separation of brain tissue. This often leaves the sufferers mentally incapable of running a country.

There is another form of HGTEMAD (HGD for short) that actually causes a scaling effect of the atoms rather than the cells, some say that this is the most likely reason that creatures such as Godzilla and Mothra grew to their enormous proportions. Most agree this is just silly though.

When questioned about this form of HGD the Ruler of Science responded by saying 'well this is clearly a load of crap, a disease can no more make atoms grow any larger than I can spin a fox with a lamp'. Specifically what he meant by this statement was never made clear but he went on to say 'Our official position is that we have no official position, the condition does not exist and never has. Everybody knows that Godzilla's growth was caused by radiation and Mothra's was from an experiment into using steroids in moth balls, that went terribly wrong.'

Whilst the subject cannot return to their original size, being happy prevents further growth and over time they do shrink slightly, so long as they remain happy. If they become sad then the growth will continue and in some cases total humiliation and depression has caused spontaneous combustion. It is for this reason that some have suggested it is not a good idea to let sufferers of HGD to be entertained by clowns, work in a McDonalds or enter the world of politics.

Sources:
The Crazy World of Politics by Elmo
The Big Book of Science by Elmo
The President and Me by George Bush, age 63 and a half

So there is my run down on the current election crisis, don't forget the decision is ultimately up to you but remember if you don't vote Republican your house is liable to being repossessed.

Personally I will be going to my local politics station tomorrow to cast my vote, I hope to see you there.

Tuna Flavoured Polyfilla

2009-09-20T15:51:00.000+01:00

Today has been a very confusing and difficult day. I was woken this morning by one of the local kids shouting abuse and throwing excrement at my door, as usual. I went over to my 'shelf de la défense' to select a means of scaring away said child, suddenly Ringo ran into the room, foaming at the mouth and growling, closely pursued by one of the wolves (now deceased).

Of course I instantly realised that he must have caught rabies somehow and so I phoned up the British National Academy for Veterinary Studies and Spirit Distillation in Taunton. Unsurprisingly the receptionist was drunk and seemed unsure of exactly why I was phoning, merely repeating 'Babies?' in a slurred voice. I suddenly remembered that Ringo had managed to ingest several litres of Polyfilla the day before (when I was virus proofing my garage) and luckily had the help number on speed dial.

Thankfully the Polyfilla building had not recently incorporated a distillery into their premises, unlike those rapscallious veterinarians and the man on the other end of the phone (Frank) was pleased to help me.

Frank explained that whilst Polyfilla was not harmful to dogs (but actually rather nutritious) it could cause foaming at the mouth and 'fakish' behaviour that was easily mistaken for rabies.
Frank also explained that if eaten by cats Polyfilla can be slightly harmful, causing:

Lack of appetite
Hostility towards mice
Excessive sleeping
Communism
A hatred of police officers
'Warm feet'
Hibernation
Death (permanent)

He also explained in great detail a way of disguising the smell and taste of Polyfilla in fish, I don't think he likes cats very much. Apparently he was once a team leader in the R&D department but his suggestion of 'Tuna Flavoured Polyfilla' had got him demoted to the phone lines and a 6 month referral to a psychologist.

So Ringo is fine and did a good job of scaring off the local kid. Now that I have learned of the benefits of feeding dogs Polyfilla I may have to give them it more often.

I am still looking for a new dog after that Japanese site that looked promising turned out to be nothing more than an online trading card game. To be fair I was slightly suspicious as to why one of the dogs had wings and the other appeared to be shooting fireballs from its eyes.

Alas my search continues...

Rejected Ideas 2

2009-09-19T17:00:00.002+01:00

Laser Washing Machine

No! This is not a device for washing dirty lasers but is in fact a machine. For washing clothes!
Rather than using water and soap like a conventional or 'boring' washing machine my proposal is to create a machine that will use a high energy Deuterated Carbon Laser (HEDCL, pronounced hed-ka-la). The Hedkala will loosen dirty molecules from the fabric by blasting it with 30,000 joules of laser radiation. My simulations show that there is only a 0.15% chance of this resulting in rapid mutation of bacterial cells and even if this should occur then there is less than a 20% chance that they will grow to gigantic sizes and gain a taste for human flesh. So really nothing can go wrong.

The laser itself will be controlled by an Artificial Intelligence which will target stains on a molecular scale and guide the laser appropriately. Clothes will be suspended individually to allow maximum coverage for the laser and it should only take an hour or so to wash a shirt thoroughly, which is infinitely faster than my machine!

WDA Response:

Your suggestions do help break the monotony of reading through hundreds of wordy research papers Trevor.
Your idea has potential but there are a number of faults we must address first.

There is no such thing as a Deuterated Carbon Laser.
A carbon laser would set fire to clothes.
We have not yet created functioning artificial intelligence.
I would argue that anything which has the potential to create giant human eating bacteria is probably not a good idea.
Exposing users to huge levels of radiation tends to create what we like to call 'fried balls.'
When you say 'simulations' do you mean writing possible outcomes on paper, sticking them to your dogs, playing fetch and recording which 'outcome' brings the ball back the most? I have told you before that is not a valid means of research.
Buy a new washing machine.

Idea Rejected

Dog Collar Labeling Machine
Like me do you find your dog collars difficult to label?
Well fear no more as I have recently finished my prototype dog labelling machine. With funding from the WDA of only £5,000,000 I hope that one day every home with have one of these machines and lost dog collars will be a thing of the past.

WDA Response
.....

'Idea' Rejected

Always with the bees...

2009-09-19T07:35:00.006+01:00

Having spent the last few hours working on one of my more misunderstood ideas, I have been feeling very low. The negative feedback I received from some of the other World Doctors has made me feel rather upset. I left the garage, or ‘The Shrine of Mysteries and Wonderment’ (TSMM) and relaxed with the dogs in the caravan over a nice pot of Bovril.

I am still unable to see why the scientific community is against the notion of creating a powerful super virus that will mimic the symptoms of the common cold. I have argued time and time again that the best way of finding a cure for something is clearly to create an even more powerful version and try to destroy that. Just like with tanks! After all, if we could kill the genetically engineered super virus then the common cold would be a walk in the park.

They argued that attempting to combine Flu cells and samples of Rabies taken from Siberian Wolves with the Rhinovirus was ‘morally ambiguous’ and irresponsible at best. Apparently it is ‘ethically wrong’ to manipulate a ‘currently harmless’ virus into a ‘potentially devastating 'pandemic.'’ Pish!

The leading World Doctor (Reginald Track) then had to go and bring up the incident with the bees - as per usual, the condescending numpty. If a few million bees need to die for my honey on toast to be marginally improved then so be it – bugger the food chain and all that ‘ecological balance’ nonsense. He thinks that pushing a species to the brink of extinction and crippling the world's economy in the process is not a reasonable risk to take under any circumstance. It is clear to me that this is really just down to him not liking honey.

I assured him that this time I had taken every possible safety precaution. All the gaps in the windows are neatly sealed with clingfilm and I wipe down the surfaces with TCP every night, except the night when Mikey came round and we watched 'Logan's Run'. I have even filled the cracks in the walls with new cement (until I ran out of cement. After that I used polyfilla, but Ringo kept eating it so I just used water).

The WDs had a vote and unanimously decided to forbid me from augmenting the rhinovirus into a 'plague of biblical proportions', whatever that means.

I've decided to continue my research secretly but I have increased my safety measures. I now wear leather gloves when handling the Wolves and make sure that the blood sampling needles are safely wrapped in newspaper before being thrown away. I have also stopped letting the dogs share water bowls with the wolves after a slight biting incident. I think the others pick on Paul because he is smaller than wolves.

Speaking of the dogs, I have decided to buy a new one following George’s death. Not so much as a ‘replacement’ for George but more a sort of substitute, just like in the popular game ‘Fotball!’ I have found two species of dog that I am considering after browsing a roughly translated and possibly corrupt Japanese website.

The Basset Griffon

Dog's Real Name: Jimmy Floyd
Latin name; Lepsicodius Propemellius Hydrangea
Colour range: Brown, black, white, brownish, grey, circumference
Size: 5x6x4cm approx
Eye Size:4cm
Tone of bark: F#
Volume of bark: 120 dB
Air Velocity: 35mph
Power to Weight Ratio: 4:3:1
Foot size: 2
Shoe size: 3
Flight potential: 0.001
Catapult? Yes
Brain power: 0.5hz
Special Features: 10 digit memory, phone recharge ability

Cotton Terrier Poodle

Dog's Real Madrid:Hasselbaink
Latin name: Jeffrey Davenport
Colour range: none
Size: 6
Eyes: 1x1
Bite power rating: 3 (sinew-bone)
??~?R: 12.5
Land Speed: 15 mph
Water Speed: 5mph
Air Speed: 4 mph
Brain size: minimal
Special Features: Lightning

RIP George

2009-09-18T01:56:00.011+01:00

This is the memorial I made for my dog George, who sadly died last night. I am hoping to get it published in 'Time Magazine' or in 'The Gazette!' as I think people could learn a lesson from how George lived his life.

George was born in a small town in the mountains of America, hence the Canadian flag on his memorial, he lived with a family there until he was 5 (thats 19 in human years!) The story of how he came to be with me is long, complicated and sad and so I won't elaborate on it any furter. Basically it was a culmination of a poker game, three bottles of whiskey and an avalanche that simultaneously brought us together and won me $50.

I plan to scatter George's ashes over the plains and make a small headstone for him somewhere quiet, perhaps a lake. I still have the $50 note I won and I have decided to bury it under the headstone, after all it is of little use to me now that they've changed back to Binary Dollars, honestly I'll never understand that decision. But I digress, after all we are only human, right?

George was a friendly dog and a good person, he once saved a cat (now deceased), that had fallen in a lake and was drowning. clap dog god.

Hectic Day

2009-09-17T22:29:00.000+01:00

It must be Thursday.

The morning started like any other rainy Salisbury morning. I woke up when one of the local kids started shouting abuse at me from outside. She was quite threatening today which makes me sort of nervous. She ran off before I could catch her though. Maybe tomorrow.

I made bacon and eggs and shared it with John, Paul and Ringo. I thought George was asleep but it turns out he was dead. That's OK though because he was old anyway and now there's more food for the other dogs. I let them out after breakfast to run around the plains and chase rabbits and search for treasure and the like but I decided to spend my day in the garage working on my helicopter.

I haven't found any new metal in quite a while now, and I think all the rotten wood I've been using to try and make "the chopper" hasn't worked too well, but even so I decided to try a test flight today. I was too scared to sit in the pilot's seat myself, so I put a helmet on George and strapped him in. None of the blades started whirring like I expected, but that's OK because it's still early days. I made a small medal out of tin foil for George's bravery and stuck it on him, before putting him in the metal bin outside and covering him in petrol. R.I.P!

I got back to work a little while later and spent a few hours trying to make a computer guided navigation system. I think it is coming along well! I was disturbed quite unusually by a passing rambler in a big white van. It was very exciting to meet a rambler. He asked if I had any water in my caravan and I said I did so I let him inside to fill up his bottles. He said I didn't need to hang around, and I could get back to work if I wanted to which I thought was very considerate of him, so I left him inside the caravan by himself.

I worked all through the day and think "the chooper" will be working soon! In the evening I went inside to watch "Masterchef: The Professionals" with the dogs, but my TV was gone, along with a lot of my valuable items, which was a shame.

Now that I think about it the rambler didn't have any bottles...

The Pope

2009-09-14T18:00:00.003+01:00

As you may have heard, the World Doctors Association was recently involved in the assassination attempt on the Pope. Our philosophy in the WDA is that the faults of an individual are the faults of us all. Whilst it was merely one World Doctor working alone who actually attempted to carry out the plot we are all responsible.

That said it was the efforts of several other World Doctors, myself included, that ultimately foiled the plot and assured the Pope survived. Therefore we are all hero's too. Its perhaps not the best system as far as culpability goes but then it was never designed to cope with people trying to kill the Pope. In fact that is one of our bylaws.
WD Law #156 Do not try to kill the Pope.

The individual was of course shot into a black hole as per the WD law. Frankly its just designed to sound good though, it will take the capsule several hundred thousand years to reach the black hole.

His motives were apparently not political or religious in nature, he just didn't much care for the Pope.

Rejected Ideas 1

2009-09-12T17:00:00.004+01:00

I have decided that I should share my ideas with the world!

Since I am sworn to secrecy by the WDA I can only publicly announce inventions which they have reviewed and subsequently rejected and hence I will also include their comments on the idea.

Self Peeling Apple

This idea came to me when I was watching Red Dwarf, the one where Lister and Rimmer used the programmable bacteria to eat off all the skins from the potatoes! I found this not only amusing but also inspiring and I have thought of a brilliant idea as a result.

By creating a new type of Molecular Bio-engine that will power a Molecular Bio-cutting device implanted in each apple from birth, at the press of a button the apple will instantly fire up and remove its own skin. The consumer then only has to slice the apple, remove the bio engine and subsequent fuel tanks from the inside of the apple and it is ready to eat! This idea will save people all the time and effort associated with apples by making their peel come off effortlessly.

WDA Response:

Trevor, we have explained to you several times before that basing ideas on things you have seen on Red Dwarf is not a good idea, it also probably violates all sorts of copyright laws.

Also you can not merely add the words 'Molecular Bio' in front of other words and expect us to know exactly what you mean by it, much less assess the feasibility of it.

The notion of somehow altering apples and providing them with their own fuel source, as well as a cutting mechanism and engine seems costly, timely and ultimately dangerous.

Idea rejected

Collapsible Sofa

Using the laws of quantum mechanics I have designed a full size sofa that can collapse down to the size of a purse. The principal is simple, the sofa-atoms that comprise the molecules of the sofa's fabric are largely empty space, on the sub atomic and molecular scale that is. Therefore using a sonic laser to create a frequency that disrupts the 'empty' space between the particles will make the sofa collapse small enough to fit in the palm of your hand. Clearly this is something the world cannot do without.

WDA Response:

Whilst we agree that being able to carry a sofa around at all times would be useful we are not quite sure that it is worth the proposed £20m grant to develop it.

We also foresee several problems with the design as it currently stands:

1. Attempting to compact and expand sub atomic spaces may inadvertently alter time, which is not necessarily a sensible or safe feature for a sofa to have.

2. The amount of power required to run the laser for 1 minute would be enough to power Wales for a week.

3. The laser would need to be 3 meters long and would weigh several tonnes, it would therefore also need to be shrunk to make it portable. This would then mean building 'public enlargment laser stations' in towns for people to enlarge their lasers and then enlarge their sofas with them.

4. Scrap that last point.

5. Whilst the sofa could be shrunk this would do nothing to affect its weight, so the sofa would only be portable for people who are already capable of carrying a sofa around on their own.

Idea rejected

First Post! MkII

2009-09-11T13:53:00.001+01:00

Being a World Doctor is by no means the glamorous, relaxed job that the media make it out to be. It involves tireless hours spent researching and inventing, all for the good of mankind, usually.

Some notable achievements of our organisation in recent months.

Inventing Television
Infiltrating the Vatican
Genetically Engineering things
Splicing the DNA of a dog with that of another dog to create an ultradog
Watching Television
Interviewing the Pope
Arranging the assassination of the Pope
Foiling the assassination attempt on the Pope
Apologising to the Pope
Inventing Tin Foil
Redesigning the Microwave
Burning things

Of course you probably know of us from the recent and highly controversial story that has been circling all over the Internet. The World Doctors Association's attempt to destroy the moon. I should probably explain now that the story is entirely untrue. We were not intending to 'destroy' the moon, we were merely planning on using nuclear weaponry and orbiting pulse lasers to shift the moon into a slightly more favourable orbit. Had we have succeeded we would have had a solar eclipse once a year in every country, a worthy cause I am sure you will agree.

Instead the journalists merely focused on the potential that the moon could have been destroyed, who are these people to comment on such matters. We World Doctors have authority over all.

First Post!

2009-09-11T13:23:00.000+01:00

I took the dogs shopping today, well I say shopping, it was more rummaging around Salisbury plain for treasure, still I got a nice crunchy bone for George. Still not sure where he found it, he ran off past some trees and then came back triumphantly carrying it.

Don't suppose it matters, it doesn't look human so there shouldn't be a problem, not like that damn inquest last time. I am never going to forget the line: 'How do you explain the presence of several gnawed human bones in and around your caravan, Mr Mcinsley?'

I don't think I am on my own when I say, if you have four dogs and live in a field then human bones are going to turn up from time to time. Apparently that is not a 'good defence' to use in court though. Still that is all in the past and besides, the accusations of cannibalism were never that convincing. That the officers turned up to investigate on the same day that I was performing my comparative cow-horse autopsy was merely unfortunate. I would say that their reaction was rather over the top when I came out to greet them mid way through however. After all what is a helicopter going to do against one person who just happens to be covered in a little blood.

Whilst I was intending this, my first post, to be an introduction into the world of World Doctoring, it seems, like so many things of mine, to become all about cannibalism, maybe I should start over.