10 lessons from the lav, as last night's curry dissolves both arse and plumbing

1. Don't take dinner recommendations from a grinning midget with red teeth.
2. In these circumstances it is advisable to ring ahead and warn the North Sea. Norwegians take a dim view of losing ships to radioactive faecal matter.
3. Rectal prolapse does not just happen to cats.
4. Eat more fibre, buy sturdier pants.
5. Dodgy curry + 1 pound of green grapes = what the Germans charmingly refer to as "durchfall".
6. Great inventions are dreamt up on the lav, such as the pebble-dash.
7. James Bond does not have this problem. Nor does Action Man. That said, Action Man has no bum-hole and his pants don't come off, so arguably his problems are greater.
8. Now matter how vast and horrible your toilet experience may be, it is unlikely to cause you to implode.
9. Humming the theme tune to Will O the Wisp is a pleasant way to mask chronic flatulence.
10. Always always always check for bog roll before taking a seat. Something which I, unfortunately, have failed to do on this occasion. Oh dear.

10 things I'd rather do than shop for office insurance

1. Punch myself in the face over and over again whilst chewing a lightbulb.
2. Spend a weekend being slowly digested by a portly Belgian man.
3. Spend the next twelve years living rough, observing the mating habits of  diseased elm trees.
4. Work for the Guardian.
5. Examine the insides  of my own eyes with a fish hook and a blow-torch.
6. Grow breasts and then have them sawn off and used to beat me to death.
7. Have a conversation with Anne Robinson, Jeremy Clarkson and Anthony Worrall-Thompson.
8. Staple my own knackers to a plane, before jumping out of said plane at 12,000 feet with no parachute, listening to a walkman playing bag-pipe "music".
9. Support my ageing bedframe on a base of my own faeces. Involves waiting for them to dry first, of course, otherwise your bed will slide all over the place and this might keep you awake.
10. Watch a full Hollyoaks omnibus edition, and then Pearl Harbour, "starring" Ben Affleck.

10 quail brand names

1. Quail or Fail – topical gameshow.
2. Quailuude – a new take on the classic depressant. "You'll be light as a feather".
3. Famous Quail - a little known and frankly undrinkable brand of whisky.
4. Scotch Quail Eggs - for the connoisseur with no tastebuds and no chance of making it to 30 without suffering a coronary.
5. Quailsits - Foam packaging that some bastards try to pass off as crisps. Don't eat them, they turn your cock orange.
6. Quailkea - A furniture shop where all the loo brushes are named after ugly villages in Denmark.
7. Quaility Street confectionary. For those moments when you just gotta have a crispy beak, or a caramelized quail's liver.
8. The Daily Quail - a dire newspaper for racists and idiots that I wouldn't even stoop so low as to wipe my arse on. We don't want Captain Botty getting stupidized by osmosis.
9. Quailure is not an option. Low-budget karate-flick about a young boy's journey into manhood following an ill-advised move to join the foreign legion, starring Ben Affleck.
10. Quailin' - bog roll your finger won't go through, and with which you stand at least an outside chance of not unnecessarily abrading an arse-cheek off.

10 reasons why Carlsson’s boss is a complete and utter twat

1. He’s a complete and utter twat

2. He only awards contracts to companies he claims he wish he had bought shares in. The more times he says “I wish I had bought shares in this company” before offering that company contracts, the more obvious it becomes that he HAS bought shares in that company, and subsequently offered them contracts. I’m sure this is illegal

3. Every time he addresses his ‘minions’, he seems to get stuck in a timewarp that somehow entitles him to incessantly spout out vacuous 80s motivational drivel that invariable turns out be to untrue, misleading and highly narcissistic

4. He has a nervous tick that, although possibly not his fault, fails to endear him to yours truly. Never trust a man whose face contracts every five seconds whilst he is lying to an audience of 200.

5. He constantly informs us of how successful we are as a company. I have to sit and listen to this shit knowing that several projects have and are failing on a spectacular scale as we speak, resulting in job losses and shit-bottom morale

6. He thinks he is funny and “down” with his staff. He thinks wrong.

7. His novel approach to management (taken from the pages of any early 1980s how to book) means that no one makes decisions or take responsibility for their actions. This has traditionally always been conducive to a great running operation.

8. He is incapable of answering any question in less than 600 words, even if that question is “what is your name?” Verbosity is one thing, inane verbosity from a cunt who thinks he is God’s gift to business is entirely another

9. He is incapable of addressing any member of staff without somehow referring to his previous successes with other companies. As if we care! He clearly lost his way since then, as all he can truly lay claim to now is failure after failure

10. He is a complete and utter twat

10 reasons why liberal lefties are ruining our lives

1. The colour purple (both the film and the colour)
2. No one likes using a dictionary
3. We know the world is fucked. Stop going on about it!

4. Left-handed scissors don't stop you being mal-coordinated

5. We don't all deserve a chance, especially not people who make toothpaste from butter mixed with clay

6. Don't believe anything Clegg says. Vince Cable, if you are reading this, kindly smother Clegg while he sleeps. Note: Please don't, thinking about it. Just give him a good telling off and send him to the Naughty Corner

7. Hippies ultimately reject their own liberal ideals and end up managing multinational corporations with a fascist ferocity. “Save the trees so later in life I can pay poor people pittance to chop them down”

8. "Liberal Ideals" is an anagram of "Daddy didn't love me". (?)

9. Can liberalism cure my hangover? Answer: No it fucking can't

10. Tofu is not, I repeat not, universally acceptable as a source of nourishment

10 pathetic excuses for not writing blog entries

1. I have to count my pubes.
2: It currently measures 0.76 on the Carlsson scale
3. Belgium is still a sovereign state
4. If I write something I'll have to stop whinging about not having written anything, then what will I do? Huh?!!
5. I have been incapable of writing words containing the letters ' ' and ' ' since April 1936
6. There appears to be some elderly mayonnaise on my keyboard.
7. For every syllable I write a kitten is doused in kerosine and thrown on a bonfire.
8. Mother says my words are sinful, and if I blog again she's going to purge me with a horse whip and coca-cola enema combo.
9. There is something rotten in the state of Denmark, apparently (although this may be old news. I don't read much). I refuse to go on until this unacceptable situation has been resolved.
10. There's something rotten in my desk drawer which makes me gag when I try to get to the computer. I think it may be the corpse of a budgie I mislaid in early '07.