Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Two buses, a police car and a short fat Italian plumber... and a little bit about genocide

Yesterday it rained. And I don't just mean there was a little moisture falling from the sky. I mean that God was angry and he sent a Noah-esque storm to wash Columbus off the map. Well okay, that might be a wee bit of an exaggeration, but you get the picture.

Now I don't mind getting a little wet. I don't even mind getting a lot wet. I do however get somewhat angry (and by somewhat angry I mean screaming four-letter words that rhyme with punt) when not one, but two buses feel the need to zoom pass splashing me with dirty water from the puddles. I get even more angry when seconds after this has happens a police car goes by and does the same. Ugggh! It's probably quite fortunate that the police car was going far too fast for me to have caught up with it, as if it had stopped I would probably have given Mr Policeman a piece of my mind — and we know how little of that there is to go around. I mean a policeman, there supposed to be public servants not public splashers. Bastards, the lot of them.

My latest addiction is to a short, fat Italian plumber. I think that you probably know who I mean. Likes mushrooms, has a brother, answers to the name Mario? And I'd always been a Sonic kind of a guy. Oh well...

The question on everybody's lips this weekend was, "Do you turn blue when you have a quadruple heart bypass?". So far the statistics are: Blue 0 — Not Blue 1. Stay tuned for updates.

Oh, by the way, we are up to two in a row on the not-mashing-up-my-foot-on-a-weekend index, I'm sure you'll be pleased to hear.

What else? Um, spread-betting can be a little bit dangerous. But that's okay because I've been studying the How to Identify a Betting Problem on the Sporting Index website. Here are their questions:
  1. Do you stay away from work, college or school to bet?
  2. Do you bet to escape from a boring or unhappy life?
  3. When betting and you run out of money, do you feel lost and in despair, and need to gamble again as soon as possible?
  4. Do you bet until your last penny is gone, even the bus fare home or the cost of a cup of tea?
  5. Have you ever lied to cover up the amount of money or time you have spent betting?
  6. Have others ever criticised your levels of betting?
  7. Have you lied, stolen or borrowed just to get money to bet or to pay betting debts?
  8. Are you reluctant to spend 'betting money' on anything else?
  9. Have you lost interest in your family, friends or interests?
  10. After losing, do you feel you must try and win back your losses as soon as possible?
  11. Do arguments, frustrations or disappointments make you want to bet?
  12. Do you feel depressed or even suicidal because of your betting?

Here are my responses:
  1. No. But then again I do most of my betting from work (probably shouldn't mention that as betting is somewhat frowned upon over here in Yankland).
  2. Not really. That's what drinking is for. (Okay I'm kidding — more or less)
  3. Nope, I just top up the account and hope for better luck next time.
  4. Do I gamble away the price of a cup of tea? What are these people smoking? You can't win anything much for the price of a cup of tea.
  5. All the time. But then again I'm a habitual liar. It takes all my willpower not to answer yes to this question on the US visa application form: Have you ever participated in persecutions directed by the Nazi government of Germany; or have you ever participated in genocide?
  6. Of course. People criticise everything I do.
  7. Nope.
  8. What the hell is 'betting money'?
  9. Did you really just ask me if I lost interest in my interests? A crazy person wrote these questions.
  10. No, I want to continue losing as quickly as possible. This isn't a questionnaire about whether or not you have a betting problem, it's a questionnaire about whether or not you're retarded.
  11. No. They make me frustrated and disappointed. I want to bet, cause it's fun.
  12. Well I can't say I fell happy as Larry when I lose. But I haven't started staring longingly at the medicine cabinet yet. (Point of order. We don't actually have a medicine cabinet, if we did though I'm pretty confident I would keep the staring longingly to those times when I'm too hungover to get out of bed.)

So that's that cleared up then. Isn't it?

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