Animals Rights Protesters Foiled

Oxford University foils animal rights attack

Monday February 26, 09:50 PM

LONDON (AFP) - An arson attempt by supposed animal rights activists at Oxford University was foiled Monday after staff discovered a web posting bragging about the planned attack. Full story here.

It was only a few days ago that I posted about the terrorist activities of so-called 'animal rights' activists. Here is more evidence about how dispicable they are.

Oxford University has been a target of 'animal rights' protestors for a number of years. Important work into medical research is conducted by the university and unfortuntely, much of that essential research has to be conducted on animals.

For the delusional activists, the fact that the university is helping to develop drugs and treatments that could cure life threatening illnesses doesn't matter. Nor does it matter that, after 9/11, even the IRA have admitted that terrorism is no longer a legitimate activity.

The 'animal rights' activists argue that animals are more important than people. In these circumstances, they might be correct. Perhaps they'd be willing swap their prison terms for a period in Oxford University Laboratories, undergoing experiments and treatments in the place of the guinea pigs and rabbits they're claiming to defend.

That really would show sacrifice and dedication to the animal rights cause.

However, as I've said before, the 'animal rights' movement has nothing to do with the rights of animals. It just gives a flimsy excuse for a lot of violent and angry kids to make bombs and hit people with bats.

A new perspective on Drinking and Driving...

Recently, I put together some commercials for the Sussex Police and the Hampshire Road Safety Team. I was concentrating on the changes in the law that make driving with a mobile phone a serious traffic offence.

Now, if you get caught using your mobile while driving, you'll get an automatic £60 fine and three points on your licence. They justify this by proving that using your mobile while driving makes you four times more likely to have an accident.

Additional statistics prove that using a mobile while driving makes you twice as likely to have an accident than if you drove drunk - and your reaction times while talking on a mobile are 30% slower than if you were over the drink drive limit.

Basically, you're more likely to get involved in a serious accident if you're driving while phoning than if you're driving while drunk. Yet the penalty is considerably more lenient.

If you drink and drive, you'll face an automatic year's ban - yet you're less likely to cause an accident than if you were on your mobile. That doesn't seem sensible.

Put it this way. I'd never consider drinking and driving on British roads - yet I'm ashamed to admit I occasionally use my mobile. I'm not alone - so do an apparent 25% of British drivers. Until the penalty for driving-while-phoning matches the penalty for driving-while-drunk, a considerable number of people will continue to drive while they're on the phone - and present more of a risk than drink drivers would.

More people gang up on Heather Mills

Mills' Dancing appearance infuriates the disabled
Monday February 26, 02:25 PM

By WENN

Sir Paul McCartney's estranged wife Heather Mills' forthcoming appearance on US TV show Dancing With The Stars has angered a disabled group in her native Britain, who claim her ability to dance means she is able-bodied. Full story here.

I will admit that I'm on Heather's side when it comes to the whole McCartney/Mills thing. She seems like a perfectly nice lady to me and Paul McCartney never quite pushed my button after his late wife Linda packaged salt and fat together and marketed it as "healthy" vegetarian dining.

That's why I think these claims by The Federation of Disabled People are just petty and vindictive. They claim that her appearances on an American "Come Dancing" show prove that she's not disabled. How could they even think of saying such a thing? She's only got one leg!

The Federation of Disabled People is doing itself NO favours here. Here's an organisation that's supposed to be claiming that anything abled bodied people can do, disabled people can do too - and then they decide to shoot their potential poster child in the prosthetic foot!

Heather only has one foot. That's a fact. What's also a fact is that she's overcome her disability and now has frankly remarkable agility. She should be a role model for the Federation. Instead, they're so disgustingly petty they claim she's 'not disabled enough.'

Are the Federation for Disabled People claiming that a missing limb is no longer a 'disability?' They must be, since that's the only way they could justify their absurd comments.

But by that logic, if Heather Mills can overcome her problems, why can't every disabled person missing a limb? If the Federation really believe that Heather should give back her disabled badge, surely they're suggesting that every other amputee does as well?

What the Federation for Disabled People doesn't seem to realise (and they bloody well should) is that disabled people can be just as able as the rest of us.

I'm supposed to be able bodied, right? Well I'll tell you what. I couldn't get up tomorrow and run the London Marathon - and a few months ago I met a young lady with Cerebral Palsy who did just that. Here was a woman who was supposed to be disabled - and had problems with her speech and mobility - yet she could run 26 miles in a matter of hours.

She was disabled - yet able to do something I couldn't.

Given the attitude of the Federation for Disabled People towards Heather Mills, I'm surprised they didn't gun after this young woman as well. I mean, she could run a marathon. She can't be disabled, can she?

The fact is, disabilities are obstacles, not barriers. Heather Mills and my marathon lady were both presented with obstacles and they overcame them. It seems this proactive attitude offends the Federation for Disabled People and I can't quite understand why.

Is it just a petty attack aimed at McCartney's ex wife? Or is it symptomatic of that curiously British snobbery - that derides anybody who rises above diversity and achieves success?

Whatever the reason, I think it's a very disappointing display by the Federation.

Jane Moore and Shaven Heads

Jane Moore is a columnist for The Sun.

Recently, she wrote about Britney Spears and her rehab misadventures, describing the Princess of Pop taking shears to her head as something "even the most amateur of psychologists could see was a cry for help."

It seems Jane shares the opinion of just about every British woman I know - that a woman shaving her head is TROUBLED. There's a huge stigma attached to it.

I only discovered what a stigma a shaven headed woman can be when Tina and I went about trying to raise money and publicity for her charity pledge for brainstrust. She's promised to shave her head completely bald if she can raise £5,000.

Universally, people were horrified by Tina's pledge.

How could she think of shaving her head? She'd be hideous! Disfigured! My father described it as "self mutilation." But it's only hair! Hair grows back (well, unless you have alopecia like poor Gail Porter.)

This stigma is horrible when you think about the people who don't have any choice in sporting a bald scalp. The reason Tina volunteered to shave her head was because many cancer sufferers lose their hair. Chemo and radio therapy can make it fall out. Surgery for a brain tumour involves shaving a 'working area.'

These poor women have to go about with a shaved head and the universal response they'll get from people is that they look like a freak. How sad is that?

In actual fact, a beautiful woman is still beautiful with a shaven head. Just look at the statuesque Sigourny Weaver when she shaved her head for "Alien 3," or Natalie Portman getting a skinhead look for "V for Vendetta."

Tina happens to be a very beautiful woman, so I have no problems with her shaving her head. With her big brown eyes and high cheekbones, she'll still be as beautiful to me even without her hair.

Please visit Tina's pledge page to donate money to her worthwhile cause - and find out how the fundraising is going at her blog.

Tina's fundraising page.

Tina's blog.

Hot Fuzz: A Very British Buddy Movie

Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright are pretty familiar to us Brits. Their comedy TV show Spaced was a Friday night staple on Channel 4. However it wasn't until 2005 that their comedy talent exploded onto the big screen in the hilarious ZomRomCom Shaun of the Dead.

With such a hilarious first movie, it must have been pretty daunting for the two of them to plan a follow up that wouldn't be a let down. Very wisely, they steered well clear of the horror genre that had offered them their breakthrough and instead decided to attack another cinema staple - the cop movie.

But although the characters, setting and plot are starkly different to Zombie movie Shaun, the winning comedy formula that made the first movie so hilarious are preserved. Strongest of all is the on-screen chemistry of Pegg and Wright, who mock the homoerotic 'bonding' from all of those blockbuster cop movies by making chubby Constable Butterman the only man who can penetrate supercop Nicholas Angel's emotional armour.

Just like Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz is almost two movies in one. It starts off as a gentle comedy, featuring a brilliant London cop reluctantly taking a transfer to the country and dealing with the problems of policing a small village. Half way through, the movie takes a dramatic twist and the screen explodes into a half hour gunfight, with explosions, gore, car chases and lots of slow-motion-jumping-through-the-air-firing-two-guns-at-the-same-time.

All the way through, the film references and mocks Hollywood's 'super cop' movies, like Bad Boys and Point Break. It highlights the absurdity of the originals and twists the cliches into hysterical misadventures. And while it's always laugh-out-loud funny, it's just as exciting and dramatic as the Hollywood blockbusters.

Wrapped up neatly into two hours, with a host of famous British comedy cameos, Hot Fuzz is a highly satisfying cinema experience. I'm certain this movie is going to share the same explosive success as Shaun of the Dead - and it deserves to.

Animal "rights" stalls being SHUT DOWN!

Police close animal rights stalls

Thursday February 22, 08:28 AM

Street stalls collecting tens of thousands of pounds a year have been closed in what police say is a clampdown on the funding of the criminal actions of animal rights extremists.

Twenty-one people have been charged following the six-month crackdown, which targeted stalls manned in central London locations including Oxford Street. Full story here.

Something to cheer me up!

As you know, despite being a lover of animals, I detest the so called "animal rights" movement. Their horrendous stall, preaching lies about Iams and demanding an end to cancer-curing research on animals, is a blight on Winchester High Street.

And ours is not the only High Street they infest. There are Animal Rights stalls across the country, collecting money for the 'animal rights' movement. I put that in inverted commas, because it's quite clear that this movement cares very little for the genuine welfare of animals.

Generally manned by a bunch of ignorant, opinionated idiots, the "animal rights" movement has been the major source of funding for criminal and terrorist organisations that cause millions of pounds worth of damage every year, inadvertently kill hundreds of animals and victimise doctors and researchers doing valuable work to help find cures for deadly diseases.

Foremost of these organisations is the Animal Liberation Front - classed by the Department of Homeland Security in 2005 as a Terrorist Threat.

And yet, they receive thousands of pounds worth of donations every year. One of the major sources of this funding are these High Street stalls, where crusty youngsters demand money from passers-by by flashing them heart wrenching pictures of puppies and kittens.

This money then goes on to help fund such "worthwhile" projects such as releasing 6,000 mink into the wild from a fur factory in Ringwood. In what the RSPB called "an act of monumental stupidity," thousands of birds were killed by the mink and the 6,000 'liberated' animals were soon decimated by starvation, or being crushed on the nearby roads.

Instead of 'saving' these animals, the Animal Liberation Front actually massacred them.

In 1999, reporter Graham Hall infiltrated the ALF to expose their criminal activities, filming members of the ALF planning to make bombs and choosing viable terror targets. In retaliation for this betrayal, the ALF kidnapped Graham, strapped him to a chair and branded the letters ALF into his back with a burning brand.

In 2006, the ALF decided to 'liberate' a Scottish fish farm in Oban. Unfortunately for thousands of farm reared halibut, the only destination they escaped to was the heavenly hereafter.

From beating people with axe handles, to smashing the fronts of butchers shops, the Animal Liberation Front has shown for the last thirty years that they have no regard for life at all - human or animal. Just like the disgusting PETA organisation, the ALF manipulate people into funding their activities. However, while PETA merely focuses it's murderous activities on the animals it claims to protect (murdering 14,4000 of them in 2005) the ALF actually goes out to create mayhem, destroy property, cause injury and slaughter animals.

It is a disgusting organisation and the fact that the Police are cutting off one of it's major sources of funding is a wonderful thing and will help make an entire generation of people and animals safer.

If you see one of these 'Animal Rights' stalls in your High Street, do not donate ANY money to them and report them to the police.

The Beer Machine: Brewing your own beer...

A short while ago, D-Mo the production guru gave me Brewzer - a small brewing kit to produce home-brewed beer.

It took 20 days and the final product was pretty damn good - a standard English bitter served room temperature, with no carbonation.

Unfortunately, that batch got ruined when Tina decided to do a bit of furniture moving and poured the contents of the brewery (which my brother said looked like a bong) into bottles. Sediment and all. Like real ale, the slightest disturbance makes the beer cloudy and basically ruins it. We ended with four litres of cloudy gunk.

But the brewing bug had bit me - and recently Natalie, my sister in law, gave us the most amazing gift: The Beer Machine.

The Beer Machine takes home brewing to an entirely new level. A sealed unit, it allows you to brew top-notch quality beer, carbonated and malty just like the top quality American micro brews. And make no mistake - Germany had better be on the lookout for the outstanding micro brews coming out of the USA. Their national brew might be Budweiser (or, as the European Union has demanded it be called, Bud) but they make some fantastic beers.

The Beer Machine looks like a Rotostack, to be honest, so it was a fitting tribute to Hamster than her little house was replaced with a similar looking bit of kit. Included in the Beer Machine kit Natalie had sent us was a back of Red Canadian Lager beer mix and yeast, which we decided would be called Hamsterbrau when it was ready.

It's very simple to do.

First off, you have to assemble the machine. It's tougher than it looks, because you have to make sure all the rubber seals and gaskets are airtight, by filling it up with water and then carbonating it.

Afterwards, the machine is bleached and rinsed and the beer mix is sloshed in. Finally, the yeast is added and the whole thing is sealed up.

For the next five to seven days, the beer machine lived in our living room. Inside the plastic casing, the yeast got to work fermenting my malty hops and creating our beer.

This is where it starts to get a bit difficult.

Because once the beer has fermented, it needs to be chilled. This caused a few mistakes on my part - not least of which was not having a fridge big enough for the Beer Machine!

After five days, I moved the machine out to the back yard, which was cold enough to be a fridge (in theory.) I left the Hamsterbrau for the end of the official cycle and five days later, sampled it.

Bleugh. The beer was horrible. Worse than that, it was cloudy and smelt rank.

I was heartbroken, because I figured I'd done something wrong and ruined the entire batch. But after doing lots of research, I discovered that my mistake had been chilling the beer before the fermentation cycle was entirely finished. That's why the beer tasted sickly sweet.

I popped Hamsterbrau back inside for another 48 hours and something miraculous happened. The sickly sweet beer turned into a robust, hoppy nectar.

It was still totally cloudy, but it tasted great. So I popped it outside again to chill and hopefully clear. But it didn't.

Nope, the beer wasn't cold enough, so despite it being delicious, Hamsterbrau needed to chill to hopefully develop that crystal clarity that makes less rodenty beers so appealing.

The problem was, we didn't have a fridge big enough.

Sarcastically, I said to Tina: "Listen, we have to take EVERYTHING out of our fridge so I can put the beer in it to chill."

And without batting an eyelid, she said: "Sure."

So that confirmed two things. Firstly, that Tina is the coolest and most understanding wife a Brewmiester like me could have. And, secondly, that half of the shit in your fridge you don't really need. We discovered Mozzarella that looked more like Gorgonzola.

And this is what the fridge looks like now:

What's France's 7th biggest city?

My father occasionally sends me articles highlighting the fact that life over the Atlantic isn't always a bed of roses - and Europe is actually a pretty cool place to live.

His most recent one was a glowing article about London, which Jasper Gerard says has eclipsed New York as the cultural, financial and fashionable capital of the world.

One thing about this article amazed me.

Over in France, Nicholas Sarkozy is gearing up for the push to become the next president of France. And London was one of the major destinations on his campaign trail.

Because, amazingly, the number of young French professionals living in London makes it technically the seventh largest French city.

Tina's Quote of the day...

On the phone to her father:

"My friend's got a horse. Well, he's not a horse. He's a stallion."

Roly (whispered into her ear:) "That still mean's he's a horse, Love."

Save money on YOUR American Immigration

Tina and I have spent thousands of dollars and three years of our life trying to get permission to live and work in the United States.

We did it the legal way. The right way.

I know that 11 million illegal immigrants in America haven't done it that way, but I wanted to be different. My reasons where two-fold. First off, I respected the American system and wanted to be part of it. Secondly, living as an undocumented alien in America would have prevented me with certain obstacles.

Foremost of these was a back account. Unless you have a valid social security number, you aren't allowed to have a bank account in America. That means, if you get paid by cheque, you lose 10% of your income to the sharks who 'process' cheques for you at those handy cheque cashing places.

Not having a bank account is one of the biggest obstacles an illegal immigrant faces.

Until now.

Because the Bank of America has announced that they will allow customers without social security numbers to have bank accounts, provided they have an overdraft free bank account for three months.

An ATM card, overdraft, cheque cashing, loans. Everything an illegal immigrant needs.

It's just another step America is taking towards granting asylum to 11 million people who came to America illegally. People who drive without insurance or licences. People who live without medical insurance and cost the US Taxpayer millions in free medical treatment. People who have shown time and time again that they hold the criminal laws of America in as much contempt as the immigration laws.

I can see why the Bank of America wants to do it, of course. Illegal immigrants generate billions of dollars in illegal revenue each month. Finally, there's a bank who gets a peice of that action.

But I find it a terrible insult. They shouldn't be allowed to do this. Why the hell did Tina and I go through thousands of dollars and months of impatience to get a green card if America's basically giving US residency away for free?

There was a time when I could have made the choice to become a real illegal immigrant. And I didn't. Instead Tina and I decided to do the right thing - and we got royally screwed by it. The US Immigrations department lost our paperwork. Our lawyer showed almost criminal incompetance. We had to put our life on hold for three years for a stupid bit of paper while 11 million illegal immigrants waltz over the Rio Grande and get all the goodies IMMEDIATELY and FREE.

I'll tell you this - with life getting cosier and cosier for illegal immigrants in the USA, is it any wonder that more and more of them come to the USA every single year?

Things aren't as cushy for them as it is for illegals in the UK (free house, nice benefits) but I'll tell you what. The weather's a damn site nicer over there.

America, please. You have Immigration Laws already in place. Either enforce them, or give Tina and I our damn money back.

Redheads in the British Media

A while ago, the BBC decided to write a story about the institutionalised abuse redheaded people have to put up with here in England.

It was a serious, sensitive subject and they treated it accordingly. The headline ran: “Carrot Tops See Red.”

That’s just typical, really. Here in Britain, the systematic ridicule of redheads is so long standing that nobody can take the subject remotely seriously. What’s the point of actually addressing a real issue; like why redheads are subjected to a lifetime of abuse; when the BBC can raise a cheap laugh with a natty head line?

They’re not alone. As far as the media’s concerned, redheads are fair game. When Sun editor Rebekah Wade pummelled her Eastenders star husband, The Times described her as a “ginger ninja.” The Daily Mirror matched that hilarious pun by describing a drunken Prince Harry as a “ginger binger.” Unsurprisingly, The Sun are pretty cruel about redheads too, running a news story about “Mr Ugly,” a redhead deemed “too ugly” to work at KFC. But at least in his case, there was an upside. They fixed him a date with a Page 3 girl.

Even on British television, redheads are the supporting characters and the comedy sidekicks. There’s Eastender’s geeky Bradley, described the Sun as the “ginger whinger.” Or eccentric Fiz, from Coronation Street. A bit nutty? Well, she’s ginger, isn’t she! How about Martin, from old Sitcom Game On? He was the limp wrested mummy’s boy who couldn’t get a date. Or cringing sidekick Ron Weasley, from the Harry Potter movies? One thing is certain. If they’re ginger, they’re unattractive, unsuccessful and, let’s face it, just a bit odd.

With the media spoon feeding Britain the stereotype of the ginger looser, is it any wonder that redheads still feel like the butt of some kind of national joke?

Thank goodness other countries are slightly more civilised. With redheaded David Caruso leading the team of CSI Miami, the Americans have shown us that redheaded men can be sexy, confident and capable.

We Brits might think we’re five hours ahead of Miami, but it actually looks like we’re several decades behind.

I always thought Britain’s media was acutely sensitive of racial issues, carefully crafting ethnically diverse casts and characters into soap operas and dramas. What I want to know is this: How long do we have to wait until redhead characters are penned with the same respect as any other minority group?

An Open Letter to the British Public

I have ginger hair. And for some reason, a lot of you have a problem with that.

Maybe it’s because my ancestors; all those burly Vikings with horns on their helmets; spent the dark ages raping, kidnapping and torturing your ancestors.

But maybe you’re just like an awful lot of British people. The reason they’ve been picking on me is because they’re a bunch of miserable, bigoted bullies.

That was a dirty secret recently revealed on Celebrity Big Brother. Put a gang of Brits into a confined space and watch them single out the weakest for abuse. Oh, Jade Goody’s squeezing out crocodile tears now, but let’s be honest. She’s not sorry for what she did. She’s only sorry she got caught.

Yep, Britain’s a nation of bullies. Far from the tolerant, multicultural society we pretend to be, the United Kingdom is made up of a bunch of nasty little racists.

Fortunately, our interfering government has passed laws to protect certain people from this abuse. If you’re African or Asian, laws exist to prosecute those who pick on you. Like little children, we Brits can’t be trusted unless there are rules to govern our behaviour. On paper, we might claim to abhor prejudice; but as Jade and her cackling buddies revealed, we Brits are far more ashamed of being labelled racist than actually being racist.

So perhaps that’s why Brits love to pick on redheads so much.

Redheads don’t have any legal protection. That means the good old British yob can ostracise, marginalise and ridicule us as much as they like with no fear of repercussion. In fact, it’s even socially acceptable!

It must be, since picking on redheads is condoned by newspapers, television and radio. Have you ever heard a story about Chris Evans or Robin Cook without somebody describing them as ‘ginger?’ Or seen a redheaded character on British television who’s not portrayed as a geek, like Bradley from Eastenders, or an unattractive Mummy’s boy, like Martin from Game On?

Just check out the headlines. When Sun editor Rebekah Wade assaulted her husband, The Times described her as a ‘ginger ninja.’ When the BBC ran a supposedly serious story about redheads being the subject of abuse, they gave it the headline: “Carrot Tops See Red!”

And this is supposed to be socially acceptable?

It gets worse. Britain’s obsession with ostracising and marginalising redheads practically borders on eugenics. At woman’s website Handbag.com, one terrified pregnant lady was trying to work out how to avoid producing a ‘ginger’ baby, since her husband carried the dreaded ‘ginger’ gene.

And genetics is the crux of the issue. My red hair stems from my Scottish heritage. It’s a racial thing. So why the hell aren’t I protected by the same laws as people with brown or black skin?

Why does the UK think it’s okay to subject us redheads, who make up about 10% of the British population, to institutionalised abuse?

I think the answer’s simple. Britain is a nation that adores bullying. And if we’ve ruled out bullying people who are black, or Asian, or Jewish or Muslim… Well, we need somebody to direct our impotent rage against.

Sorry, fellow redheads. It looks like we’re taking one for the team…

"Oi, Mister! Can I have our ball back?"

For the first time EVER in my life, a football flew through the air and landed in our back yard (narrowly avoiding our Rolskibrau, chillin' in it's final fermentation out in the winter chill.)

A little boy came up to the fence and said: "Oi! Mister! Can I have my ball back?"

I felt officially OLD.

How gay is Dr Who?

I spoke to my sister last night - who'd just caught the last two episodes of Torchwood and agreed that under Russel T. Davies, the whole Dr Who franchise was a bit... gay.

Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it's important that Mr Davies realises that most of us want to watch good old fashioned intergalactic adventure - not Queer as Folk in Space.

Please, Russell. Stop trying to ram your sexual agenda in our face and give us what we want - stirring stories, scary aliens and a bit with a robotic dog.

Sofe and I aren't the only ones who think this way... The hysterical webcomic Sorethumbs ran this comic recently.

What happened on the 8th February

Every month, the radio industry eagerly awaits X-Trax.

The radio industry magazine, it contains competitions and pictures, from local radio stations across the country. My mug's been slapped in there a few times. Even Piglet's made the cut and been featured as "The WinFM Mascot."

It also features 'on this day...' features, which mark who was born, who died and what happened on each day of the month.

For a giggle, I looked up my birthday and discovered that the 8th February was quite a depressing date!

It was the date in which Mary, Queen of Scots was executed in 1587. In 1924, the gas chamber was used to execute somebody for the first time in Nevada State Prison. In 1994, Tory MP Stephan Millington died after a kinky sex act he was trying went wrong. Boy, what a way to go!

Most depressing of all, in 1983, those bastards in the IRA kidnapped race horse Shergar. He was never seen again. I was only 5 at the time (and don't remember the event) but what a horrible thing to happen on my birthday.

But it's not all bad news. I share my birthday with some interesting people, like Jules Verne, one of my most favourite writers (author of some of my favourite books, Around the World in 80 Day, 5 Weeks in a Balloon and 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.)

John Grisham, the brilliant legal novelist, was also born on my birthday in 1955.

Ironically, one of the few famous ginger people, Seth Green, was born on my birthday in 1974. He went on to play Willow's boyfriend Oz in Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Dr Evil's son Scott in the Austin Powers trilogy.

Lana Turner, who Frank Sinatra almost left his wife for, was born on the 8th February in 1920.

Happy Birthday!

Today began the inexorable countdown to the big 3-0.

365 days to do all those things I'd promised I'd do before I was thirty.

Really, there were only three of those.

1: Move to America (almost there.)
2: Get my first book published (well, at least I've written it)
3: Earn a living writing (you call this a living?)

I'm completely astonished at how fast time has gone. Especially the last couple of years.

Where have they gone? What have I become? How come I look in the mirror and see somebody I hardly recognize? Can anybody tell me where the witless, but well dressed adventurer went and who this chubby, scrubby writer is?

During our week in France, I found a big box stuffed with photos. Pictures of my from years ago, when I was a kid living in Hampshire. Then more, from school in Devon, lots from university and then piles of smiling photos of me, looking sleek and well dressed for perhaps the only time in my life, with my arm paternally around the shoulders of myriad American girls with beautiful tans and big teeth.

Hard to think I spent my last summer in Paris over two years ago - and that was the end of an era. Since then I've become a veteran of the radio business. I say veteran - this is the kind of show in which people have short, glittering careers and then go a bit nuts and drive their cars through the door of their radio station. However the REAL vets, like my old boss Gordon Drummond, have been in it for donkey's years.

Anyway. Now I work in Media. I wear jeans to work. I don't shave every day. I have got a bit tubbier. I get grumpy if I don't eat lunch.

It's so weird to have 'grown up,' because I don't feel I have at all. My insecurities and ambitions burn just the same. I keep thinking I've got all the time in the world - but days like this make you realise it's trickling inexorably away.

That can't be comfortable...

You can take the boy out of the farm...

How to Schuk (shell) an Oyster

During our week in France, Tina insisted we buy some oysters.


Now I love oysters - in the neat, twee bowl of crushed ice at a restaurant in La Rochelle. I wasn't quite sure about preparing them ourselves. But what was the worst that could happen? Apart from vomiting, stomach cramps etc...


Actually, none of that was likely to happen. Oyster farming is an incredibly well regulated industry in France and the fact that people buy thousands of the things in market stalls across France suggest that the dozen Tina and I blew five euros on were very unlikely to poison us.


Oysters are bivalve saltwater mollusks, who filter five litres of water through their shells every hour, gobbling up the plankton they find there. They used to be the foodstuff of the very poor and working class, who had to eat a lot of them considering that a dozen oysters contains only just over 100 calories!


About a hundred years ago, oysters became a delicacy due to pollution and overfarming and an industry preparing these shelly snacks cropped up. In France, it's possible to buy all sorts of oysters, of various grades, throughout the year. With trains, trucks and refrigeration, fresh oysters can hit the dinner tables of Paris within hours of being picked. However the famous rule - never eat an oyster unless there's an 'r' in the month (so May, June, July and August are excluded) holds fast. That's because this is the oyster breeding season, when the texture of the mollusks becomes milky and soft.


In my limited experience, oysters are bought fresh from the market, still tightly sealed in their shells. In order to enjoy them, they need to be taken home and served that day.



Scrub the shells under running water, to dislodge all the grit and flaky shells. Then, place a folded tea-towel in the palm of one hand and use an oyster knife (or other short, strong blade) to open them up.



You need to cup the oyster in the hand with the tea-towel, so the 'narrow' hinged end is pointing towards you. Carefully slide the knife into the 'hinge' and swivel it from side to side, applying a small amount of pressure. Don't push too hard - you're more likely to slip and stab yourself than prise open the shell. Eventually, you will feel it 'give' and the blade will sink in - followed by a gush of water out.


Keep the knife in the shell and scrap the top half. This will slice off the muscle the oyster will still be using to keep it's shell shut. Then, with a bit more pressure, you should be able to open up the shell and see your little grey snack peering sightlessly up at you.



Tip the water out of the shell and place on a plate of bed of crushed ice.



To enjoy an oyster, you need to first sever the same 'shell' muscle on the bottom of the shell as you did on the top half, when you first opened the shell. That will leave the mollusk floating about in the centre of the shell.


A squirt of lemon, Tabasco or pinch of salt can be added, depending on your taste. Then just lift the shell to your lips and let the oyster slip down your throat.

Delicious!


The oysters Tina and I bought (who kindly modelled for this post) came from the Ile de Oleron, near the Ile de Ré and only an hour's drive from my parent's place.

Poppit the Hamster 2004 - 2006

Little friend, fearless explorer,

Gentle, brave and bright.

The only green pastures you roamed were nylon,

The only forests varnished,

Life was seen through plastic and bars,

And on people's fingers, that you never nipped,

Outside you were very, very small,

But inside you were enormous.

Justice is failed - PETA murderers cleared by NC Court

PETA, the repugnant 'animal rights' organisation that slaughters over 14,400 animals a year because it squanders donations on ridiculous, offensive and libelous advertising, managed to wiggle their way out of animal cruelty charges today.

The court case, centered around two PETA employees who lied in order to convince animal shelters in North Carolina to surrender animals into their custody, was centered around how between 30 and 80 perfectly healthy animals were 'put to sleep' by the two PETA employees, with unlicensed lethal injections and then dumped in the trash of a nearby convenience store.

"It's a disgrace," said Andrea Press, a member of Responsible Dog Owners of Eastern States. "PETA preaches to everybody not to hurt and kill animals. And they just proved it's OK for them to do it. They're hypocrites."

How many thousands of dollars of ernest donations were squandered in defending Andrew Cook and Adria Hinkle, the two alleged human beings who claimed to be 'animal lovers' even while they were murdering puppies and kittens in the back of their van?

DO NOT GIVE ANY MONEY TO PETA.