The thing is, surely it would make more sense for the aliens to destroy the moon. It's undefended for a start, and would be fairly simple for an advanced alien race to destroy.
Once the moon was destroyed, all the aliens would need to do would be to sit back and watch us get destroyed by floods and hurricanes and things, and then when we're all dead pop down in their spaceship with a flag and they've got themselves a planet.
It would make a shit film though, obviously.
I lived in a hotel in Leeds for four months so I'm quite comfortable sitting in a hotel bar having a beer on my own and watching the telly. For some reason drinking alone in hotel bars is acceptable (I'm doing it right now).
The thing is, hotel food is shit and overpriced, and the Leets Marriott is about twenty seconds away from two of the best restajurants in the city. So, I decided I should go have a decent meal as the company are paying.
The thing is, I've never gone to a restaurant on my own before, and it kind of strange walking in and asking for a table for one.
To be fait, the maitre d' was fine with it, found me a table (right next to the biggest group of people there just to highlight my sadness I'm sure) and I had a fantastic meal and some lovely wine.
This, I've decided, is a good thing - firstly, it shows that there's nothing wrong with eating alone and secondly, it puts me in good stead for my trip around the world when eating alone will become commonplace.
It was also nice to sit and have a lovely meal withbout having to make small talk and worry about whether the other person or persons were enjoying themselves, or whether they were sneakily ordering bottles of bollinger when I wasn't looking.
Oh, and the sea bass was excellent.
Also, how come when you open your eyes underwater your head doesn't flood from water coming in through your tear ducts? Or through your ears?
It's all very strange.
This needs some thought, and maybe some investigation on wikipedia.
Toast is, of course, amazing. I could quite happily live on toast with peanut butter (and tea or milkshake), although I'm not sure how healthy that would be.
Most people think toast is a relatively new idea, but it has in fact been around almost as long as man. It's steeped in history is toast, and in fact has been pivotal in some of the most important moments in history to date.
Many people believe Marie Antoinette, Queen consort to Louis XVI, once said "let them eat cake" in response to news that there was no bread for the poor to eat. This is, in fact, erroneous - there was in fact a cake shortage, and the actual response was "let them eat toast".
Toast is also key in the history of Nazi Germany. "The night of the long knives" in 1934 is a somewhat misleading name for the assasination of the SA on Hitler's orders. Although it is true that around 85 people were murdered, the event should really be called "The night of the burnt toast", as it was burnt toast that enraged Hitler so much that he deemed the slaughter of Kohl's SA necessary.
I could give other examples but we'd be here all day.
Nowadays of course, toast generally appears in popular culture as opposed to mass murders (although I'm sure Harold Shipman liked the odd round of toast), generally in comedy (Red Dwarf, Peter Kay etc.). Even so it doesn't seem to get the recognition it deserves. Which is sad. Next time you're enjoying toast, remember how special that bit of warm bread is.
I'm off for some toast....
Obviously things do go wrong occasionally, and I'm sure we're all familiar with the standard crash position of head between your legs. Most people think tht the crash position is supposed to stop you coming to harm, but that's not actually the case. Apparently (and I have no reason not to believe this is true) the position is designed to protect your jaw so your body can be identified by your dental records. Which is nice. It's definitely something to talk about next time you get stuck next to a nervous flyer on a long-haul flight.
Anyway, moving on (quickly) - people say that talking to yourself is the first sign of madness, but I'm not so sure. I went drinking last Friday with a load of people I'd never met before other than through chatting to them online. That to me seems like the first sign of madness - I was fully expecting to be given some robes and a suicide pill before the end of the evening.
As it turned out it was a great evening - I got to meet some very nice people and chat about bees, which is always the mark of a good night. Ok so I fell asleep on the train and ended up with a fifty quid cab fare home but these things happen.
The thing is, I basically learnt that by grabbing life by the balls you can have a lot of fun.
So, whether it's badger baiting with David Attenborough, poking sharks or throwing rocks at wasp nests, just get out there and do it, before you miss your chance. Otherwise who knows what you'll miss out on.
Next time on 'stating the fucking obvious....'
Of course, days like this are always marred by one of the most pointless creatures on the planet (no, not Jodie Marsh) - wasps.
Just what is the point of them. They fly around, trying to go for a swim in your pint and stinging people for no apparent reason. The little shits. Bees I don't have a problem with, they pollenate flowers and make honey (for more information on this see Eddie Izzard's 'Unrepeatble' DVD), and spiders catch flies and make gravy. Wasps however should all die.
Mind you, it wouldn't be summer without them would it, and you can always get them pissed on Vodka and watch them fly shakily across the beer garden. Which is always good for shits and giggles.
A few of us had to leave early (ish) as we had a bit of a drive and a Metallica gig today so we jumped in the car and headed off down one of the country lanes back towards civilisation and a lack of golfing slacks. As we came around a corner we saw something fairly large in the road. Too big for a fox it took us a couple of seconds to process what we were seeing, and then all three of us in the car shouted in unison "it's a fucking BADGER!".
We've all always wanted to see a real badger, and there it was, jogging across our path! It's only taken 29 years but I can tick that goal off my 'things to do before I die' list. Happy days indeed
Yes, that does say shitting, not sitting.
So, if anyone wants a free Persian Blue please let me know, I'll stick him in the post.
Obviously I'm a big wuss but I'm sure there are plenty of people out there who couldn't give a shit about looking straight down at over a click of nothing, so I give it a day or two before someone starts charging tourists twenty bucks to walk the loop with their camcorder....
The thing is, it's not like this happens once every now and then, it's every time I'm in a shop - I either end up behind the bastard who decides to pay in pennies, or I get the till operator who's obviously been doing the job since about five minutes before I got there, or they need a price check on a grape.
The thing is the 'scan it yourself' lane is just as bad - I start scanning my items with a smug 'this is easy this, any mug could do it' look on my face and without fail I scan something, the screen displays a message saying I'm a fuckwit and a big red light on a pole starts flashing to make absolutely sure everyone within twenty feet of me can see I can't cope with scanning a few groceries. I then have to wait for a member of staff to come and bail me out, during which time I could have gone through a normal till.
I did consider doing my grocery shoping online, but that's a different story. Supermarkets? Arsemarkets more like. Meh!
The thing is (and this is where you'll think I've totally lost the plot but bear with me), whilst pondering the differences in finger and toe nails, I realised that this discrepancy in growth rates can be used to finally prove the non-existence of God.
Seriously, think about it logically for a second. Scientists would argue the discrepancy is due to evolution, probably something to do with needing long claws on your hands to attack prey whilst needing shorter claws on your feet so you can run away when you (a small baboon for example) attack a larger predator (say, a hippopotamus). Your local vicar on the other hand will argue evolution doesn't exist and that we were all created by God. Now, I'm fairly certain that when creating man God wouldn't have thought 'I know, for shits and giggles I'm going to make finger nails grow four times as fast as toe nails', it's just not the sort of thing that would cross your mind is it?
Therefore, my hypothesis is that evolution must be the cause, and as evolution doesn't leave room for the whole creationist argument, God can't exist, Q.E.D.
Of course, this is just a theory, it may be God was in a jesting mood the day he decided on growth rates for nails, hair and teeth.
