The rules for applying to the Make A Wish Foundation

1. No wishing for wishes.

2. No wishing for a cure for Leukemia - THERE ISN'T ONE, shitferbrains.

3. I'm not a genie in a bottle: offering to "rub me the right way" will not result in you receiving two extra wishes.

4. No wishing you had superpowers or any of that cryptic batshit. You're about to die: time to get real.

5. We ALL want to rub our face in Christina Hendricks' breasts. If we wielded that kind of power, we wouldn't be dishing it out for free.

6. Basically no wishing for anything other than a trip to Disneyworld.

7. Upon arrival at Disneyland, you will be allocated a per diems of $10 Disneyworld dollars to spend on food. If you choose to spend this on something dumb like a personalised licence plate, remember that before he died, Jesus had the foresight to spend money on his Last Supper so he could see all his friends one last time. He didn't buy a licence plate that said "Je5u5 5ave5" because he didn't want people to think he was Mexican. I suggest you spend it on food. (There's barely enough for that anyway.)

7. No sodomites.

If you break any of the above rules, you will have your "Every Day's A Gift!" hat stripped from you and ceremoniously burnt by a committee of Donald Duck, Goofy and the version of Baloo from Tailspin, but not - I repeat: NOT - Jungle Book.

If you have any complaints about the above rules, please address them to God when you see him shortly.

Thank you for your epistle.

Your sincerest epostle,

The Make A Wish Foundation Foundation Founders

Lessons We Have Learned From The Last Ten Years.

1. Women are no closer to smashing through that glass ceiling because they know that if they actually made it up there, people on floors underneath would see up their skirts and (if they’re wearing no knickers) inside their love-mittens. Plus, sexism et al.

2. Don’t turn the repatriation of dead servicemen through Wootton Bassett into a street parade with floats (either that or undertakers need to start making coffins capable of supporting the urban antics of Diversity without spilling remains everywhere)

3. 9/11 = 0.8181818181818181818181818181812

4. The outrage caused by changes to Facebook is our Arab Spring.

5. Regularly eating macrobiotic yoghurts does not mean on forms you can put your ethnicity as “cyborg”

6. There isn’t an app for that empty drumming deep in your soul telling you Steve Jobs is Satan and since he flooded the world with his demonic Pods of Eye, nothing in the world exists anymore.

7. All it takes to be successful is for a person to have an original idea and Mark Zuckerberg to steal it from them. (NOT repeat NOT a ANTI-ZIONIST RANT: I count dreidels, Woody Allen CDs and a victim mentality among my most treasured possessions)

8. If you work in an office you are a cunt.*

*This has been proven in tests.

A White, Heterosexual Guy In Scotland
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-scotland-13747761
Dear readers,

I feel I should apologise to all. A lie, is a lie, is a lie. For the past year, I have been writing on this blog posing as a white, heterosexual, American, middle-class man studying Medieval Studies at the University of Edinburgh. This has been a carefully constructed hoax. I am not. In many ways, I am the opposite of that.

I never expected this level of attention. I only hoped to raise awareness of white, heterosexual, American, middle-class men, providing a voice for the silent majority of white, heterosexual, American, middle-class men living in a state of constant paranoia around the world simply for following their nature.

I apologise for any offence caused. I now see that rather that advancing the cause of white, heterosexual, American, middle-class men (I call them WHAMMs for short), I may have inadvertently put back the cause of WHAMMs by nearly 500 years.

I can only imagine the ordeal a WHAMM faces everyday just for being a WHAMM:

Walking down the street, in constant fear.

Sitting in McDonalds eating a quarter-pounder with cheese, in constant fear.

Being forced to drive an environmentally-friendly but economically unjustifiable luxury electric vehicle to offset their carbon footprint, in constant fear. (“Segway-gated” if you will.)

Carrying out a racially-motivated attack against an individual belonging to an ethnic minority, in constant fear.

Only now do I fully realise the harm I have caused these gentle creatures. But who is the real villain here? Is it the man who driven to despair by the plight of the WHAMM, “whites up,” takes photos of himself failing to achieve the most basic of basketball slam-dunks, affects a total lack of rhythm, pretends not to be endowed with a massive member and then blogs about it SIMPLY TO RAISE AWARENESS?!!

Or is it the IMF?

Looking back at that last paragraph, I've just realised that seems an easy question to answer. But don’t answer right away: go away and think about it, maybe whilst listening to some Vanilla Ice (you may not like it, but I’ve grown to appreciate all World Music).

In conclusion, it’s insane to say that the blame rests only with me. It’s time for us all to do some tough soul-searching. What have we done for these crackers lately?

Peace out.

Last Kindergarten Terminator: End of Judgement Days

A size-12 carbon-footprint may soon be well and truly stamped on some perspiring G20 ass cheeks. Schwarzenegger, the actor-turned-politician made famous by celluloid treasures Red Sonja, The Sixth Day, Last Action Hero and End of Days, recently announced that following his role as governor for California, he is considering lobbying for the green movement - a move which has prompted green groups to suggest that “the Day of the Merciless Shrub has befallen us.”

Some commentators have drawn ironic parallels with the plot of Terminator 2, in which a violent tool of mankind’s repression and ultimate oblivion switches sides and joins the fight for survival; other commentators have yet to see that particular film, but promise to rent it on BluRay to get the reference, as well as the bonus “Making Of” featurette and interactive menus.

It’s self-evident that “Arnold” - for ‘tis the brawny beast’s unlikely name - would be missing a trick if he didn’t release a boxset of his classic films re-dubbed to push the green agenda.

So in the Terminator films, after Arnold pounds a bar full of 80s bikers into bone-crunching submission, he could bark: “I need your clothes, your boots and your *low-emission hybrid vehicle*” before stabbing everyone’s faces off with a recycled beer bottle.

Or when John Connor cautiously assesses him in a brief let-up from the violence, the killing machine flatly boasts: “My exoskeleton is constructed from a *bio-degradable hemp* alloy” and then explains how in the future, cyborgs have learned to pocket-mulch the rotting flesh of dead resistance fighters for a workable compost.

In some scenes he simply dispenses practical eco-friendly building advice: “I’ll be back *to insulate your wall cavities with cladding, economizing your property’s fuel consumption and lowering your household bills*”

In others he makes grand gestures of green defiance, like the mind-boggled Martian freedom fighter Doug Quaid in the newly revamped Total Recall: “Give these people *clean* air!”

Given the atrocities recently committed in the name of updating cinematic trilogies, a bit of contemporary relevance might even rejuvenate the tarnished reputation of the remake. Below are some broader possibilities for this emerging genre:

It’s a Wonderful Assisted Death – Suicidal George Bailey is gently eased into a world where he never lived by his Dignitas-approved guardian angel. He changes his mind at the very end and decides he wants to live; but God tells him the process is too late to reverse unless he wants to end up, like, brain-damaged, or whatever.

Genetic Park – Months of painstaking retouching of heavy-handed promethean parable Jurassic Park, sees all the dinosaurs digitally replaced with controversial genetically-modified foods. The sight of Bob Peck being torn apart by a vicious pack of GM soybeans is worth crossing the picket line for alone.

What-A-World! – Despite all the mounting scientific evidence stating the negative impact on the world, despite all the international condemnation of negligent industrial practices that pump out unbearable levels of toxic bilge annually, despite all the proof of perfectly acceptable alternatives to making a film with Kevin Costner, Hollywood will not be convinced to hold back on a remake of Waterworld and the plot will be even more waterlogged than the original. Even the fan of the original (yes, singular) will flush it.

Gosford Park – In a balls to the wall Orwellian allegory on statism, a crack squad of National Heritage commandos annexes a stately home and places it at the mercy of ticketed admission to the general public, who get their sticky fingers all over the upholstery and stand around incorrectly stating what period the architecture belongs to, thus rewriting all human history. Truly terrifying.

Look Who Could’ve Been Talking, Until You Murdered Your Unborn Baby – Bruce Willis provides the voice for a hero with the briefest of wise-cracking adventures.

Open Letter To A Seductress Spammer

‘dont take me as another weird psycho or creeper female, but your profilepics are hot im interested in a new friend my windowslive names madison21lily@hotmail.com just talk on there further please because this is my work e-mail, ill be on that msn name all night though. // CONFIDENTIALITY NOTICE: The materials enclosed are private and confidential and are the property of the sender. The information contained in this material is privileged and is intended only for the use of the individual(s) or entity(ies) named above. If you are not the intended recipient, be advised that any unauthorized disclosure, copying, distribution, or the taking of any action in reliance on the contents of this information is strictly prohibited’

Dear Author of the Above,

On a preamble through my Hotmail junk folder to locate a legitimate medication order I made some time ago, I stumbled across your email. I was entraptured. I found myself compelled to write an open letter in response. I may be reading too much into it, but I detect a subtext in the cold, deliberate prose in which it is written and I think it warrants a forensic analysis. Here is my considered response:

Don’t take me as another weird psycho or creeper female

Good strong opening! You’ve nailed your colours to the mast at the outset and that’s a good strategy when meeting new people. My initial response would be to think that you are precisely another weird psycho or creeper female, but by introducing the possibility of the opposite position from the outset and therefore undermining it, you’ve torn up my prejudices with a sound surgical strike of rhetoric. My diary will forever read that today, Tuesday 8th February 2011, you had me at Don't take me as another weird psycho or creeper female, you had me hook, line and sinker. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Please - continue.

But your profilepics are hot im in interested in a new friend

I think this sentence is sending mixed messages. Do you toy with me, woman? You say you’ve seen my profilepics and you view them as hot (and God knows, if it’s that one of me with the traffic cone and my mother’s vomit-stained Sunday dress, I’m damn flattered), but then you coldly state you’re only seeking a new friend. Why the change of heart? Can I do something to amend this? Please forgive me, I can amend my ways (perhaps if I send you my banking details, it will prove that I'm serious about this relationship?)

My windowslive names madison21lily@hotmail.com

Finally – a name! Madison... Madison... Madison.... Lily... Lily... Lily... My dear Maddening Maddy, my sweet Lilting Lily, mi amore. Never before has the a windowslive username stirred such passion in my loins. The seraphim of heaven are singing and the word on their divine lips is Madison21Lily@hotmail.com. I can imagine you now, 21 years old perhaps, sitting at your computer and logging into your hotmail account, closing those pesky pop-ups that cause us sensitive souls such relentless ennui, looking at my photos and thinking “He’s hot.” Never before were two souls more entwined by such (probable) shared interests. How poetic that we have never met or even had a conversation before.

Just talk on there further because this is my work email

Yes – indiscretion, of course. I hadn’t considered that you may already be betrothed, presumably beyond your will, to some anaemic local boy who wants to put his sticky hands all over your body and possess you. I must fight back tears of murderous jealousy and know that, as he does, you will be thinking of my hot profilepics as a way to endure his adolescent fumblings.

My parents attempted to manufacture an arranged marriage once with myself and the pig-faced daughter of a carbonated drinks industrialist (for a dowry, he offered a year’s supply of Panda Cola, but after a nasty fall and a knock to the head, my father came to believe bubbles in non-alcoholic beverages were the work of Satan and called it off – dodged the bullet there!).

My darling, our love can overcome this. Of course - I will follow your lead and talk on there further because this is your work email. Now that I come to think of it - what is your job?

ill be on that msn name all night though

You work at night? What normal person works at night? My God – have I fallen for a woman of ill-repute? A garden-variety whore? Perhaps your lily is blooming for other men’s hot profilepics too? You fill me with loathing and pity. My heart will never love again. We had it all, Madison. We had our own paradise. And you tossed it away for a few grubby coins - your earnings - dropped in the gutter for you by your boozed-up clientele. I cannot bring myself to look at you (literally, I don’t know where you live).

CONFIDENTIALITY NOTICE: The materials enclosed are private and confidential and are the property of the sender. The information contained in this material is privileged and is intended only for the use of the individual(s) or entity(ies) named above. If you are not the intended recipient, be advised that any unauthorized disclosure, copying, distribution, or the taking of any action in reliance on the contents of this information is strictly prohibited

Could we not keep the courts out of this? Don’t worry about silencing me, I intend to forget our torrid little affair ever happened. Or maybe this was where it was heading all along! I knew I shouldn’t have signed that pre-nup before I’d even met you! Bah! Accursed hussy! You cannot hide behind your legalese forever, you creeper female! I should have realised you were just like all the other weird psychos.

There is no other way out – this is it! I intend to jump off London Bridge at midnight, taking my hotprofile pics with me forever. If you have an ounce of decency you’ll try and stop me. If you don’t, I’ll assume you never loved me to begin with and jump to my waterlogged death. Goodbye cruel, tempestuous Madison21Lily@hotmail.com!!!

Of course, if you aren’t based in the UK you won’t make it in time. So actually, I’m not going to do it now. And thinking about it, you probably don't exist anyway.

You cow.

Yours Insincerely,

LovelornProfessorUK@hotmail.com

Cocktails That Complement World Events.

From a menu sent to WikiLeaks by disgruntled bartenders at the U.N.

Mubarak’s Last Stand (Non-Halal)

1 part Vodka
2 parts Vermouth
Swine (chased through the streets by hired goons & beaten with sticks)
Served over crushed human rights

Sub-Prime Cocktail

1 part Whiskey (hedged with 2 parts Vodka)
2 parts JP Morgan’s Rum
1 fucked global economy quantitively eased in a blender with skyrocketing interest rates
Infinite Credit Default Swaps
Served over Northern Rocks

ConDemNation

A strained coalition of Gordon’s Gin and Tonic water
Liberal Advocaat, reduced over the flame of public opinion
2 manifestos, blended beyond recognition
Unwanted cuts of lemon
Served in a backroom, far, far away from the prying eyes of accountability

The Gulp of Mexico

1 part petroleum
Ideal for beach parties

Once Upon A Time...

You'd be forgiven for thinking that the coalition has something of the children's fairytale about it, the dashing young prince (Cam) sweeping up in his arms the slumbering damsel (Clegg) and making him his queen.

And what of a romantic ideal to defend? For that, we have the Big Society: taking control and standing up for yourself in the spirit self-assertion. Giving a thoroughly black eye to meddling statism.

But in reality, the coalition is like watching the death throes of an abusive relationship playing out at a dinner party in front of uncomfortable guests.

And David Cameron has done something humiliating, like thrown his wine over Nick Clegg after being shown up in a polite discussion over tuition fees.

And a few of Nick Clegg’s friends – he hasn’t got many left, David Cameron’s managed to isolate him using a potent mixture of sex and emotional bullying – will take him to one side and say: “But Nick Clegg - why do you let him treat you like this?”

And then Nick Clegg will say the most heart-breaking thing you will ever hear: “It’s not David Cameron’s fault, I just say stupid things that make him cross. Things like social mobility is a priority of democratic government, which is clearly an unworkable fantasy of foggy socialism.”

But instead of offering him support, everyone will look at him in the eye and say “You have brought this upon yourself, whore of Buckinghamshire.” And they will kick him to the ground; and they will spit on him; and they will turn their back on him as he weeps; and he shall be shunned.

And the next time they hear of him it will be from a minor article in a local paper, explaining that his body has been exhumed from a shallow grave in Epping forest, his skull stoved in with something hard (presumed to be Michael Gove’s donkey punch), bite marks matching George Osbourne’s canines, several ribs cracked and different men’s semen clogging his rectum. And they will all think: that’s exactly how things should have turned out, I’m glad this has happened.

And that is why the Big Society will never work as a children’s story.