Archive for August 13th, 2008
Man’s penis stuck in park bench
For Hong Kong resident Mr Le Xing, it seemed like a fabulous idea.
“I know” he mused “I will stick my penis into this metal park bench, how much fun would that be?”
But Mr Le Xing’s innocent adventure quickly turned disasterous when he was unable to remove his penis from the bench after copping a stiffy in the process.
According to reports from Hong Kong, the “lonely and disturbed” Mr Xing told police he thought it would be fun to have sex with the bench, UK’s The Telegraph reported.
Unfortunately for Mr Xing, news crews descended on the park to film the rescue effort:
Doctors had tried to drain some of Mr Xing’s blood in an attempt to loosen his penis, but to no avail.
Rescuers eventually cut away part of the bench and Mr Xing was taken to hospital where doctors took another four hours to free him.
They said if Mr Xing had been stuck for another hour they would have had to amputate his penis.
How was your day?
See the video here…
Iris Robinson,homophobic skank, will not get told off for hate crime comments
Wednesday 13 August 2008
Robinson-Gay – epetition response
We received a petition asking:
“We the undersigned petition the Prime Minister to reprimand MP Iris Robinson on her recent comments about Homosexuality.”
Details of Petition:
“MP for Strangford has recently suggested that all homosexuals should receive psychiatric treatment to help “cure” them. These comments are not fitting of a MLA let alone an MP. They show narrow minded views and the belief that in Northern Ireland that bigotry is acceptable.”
Read the Government’s response
There is no constitutional role for the Prime Minister to reprimand individual Members of Parliament who are accountable to their electorate for their own comments.
The Government is committed to strong equality legislation in Northern Ireland and citizens in Northern Ireland are protected against discrimination on grounds of race, religious belief or political opinion, gender, sexual orientation, age or because of a disability. If anyone in Northern Ireland believes that they have been discriminated against on any of these grounds they may be able to bring a complaint to a tribunal or to a county court. Further details are available from the Equality Commission whose website is at www.equalityni.org.
In respect of sexual orientation specifically, the Employment Equality (Sexual Orientation) Regulations (Northern Ireland) 2003 make it unlawful for employers and others to discriminate on grounds of sexual orientation in the areas of employment, vocational training and further and higher education. The Equality Act (Sexual Orientation) Regulations (NI) 2006 extend the protection against discrimination to the provision of goods, facilities and services, the management and disposal of land or premises and the provision of education in schools.
In addition, section 75 of the Northern Ireland Act 1998 requires designated public authorities to have due regard to the need to promote equality of opportunity between 9 different groups: religious belief; political opinion; race or ethnic group; age; marital status; sexual orientation; gender; disability; and persons with dependants.
The Government’s vision is an equal, inclusive society in Northern Ireland, where everyone is treated with respect and where opportunity for all remains a priority.
A free preview of Lorna Page- A Dangerous Weakness
On the Authorhouse site, they generously..give us a preview of A Dangerous Weakness, the much discussed book. (And not for the right reasons I hasten to add.) OK, she’s no F Scott F is she, but admittedly, judging from this; it’s not horrible…
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The house had been in darkness when we arrived, no light anywhere to give a hint of where Jim might be – if indeed he was still here. Betsy had gone straight to her room saying how tired she was. I bade her goodnight outside her door and saw it close before walking farther down the passage to my own room.
For a while I paced up and down far too alert to consider going to sleep. I suppose it was about half an hour before I switched off my light and went to the window to draw back the curtains. Sleep seemed impossible but the peaceful, clear night and glow from the snowcapped mountains in the moonlight brought a certain calmness and sanity. I gazed out for a while wondering, as no doubt countless others have, how so much unease and subterfuge can exist amidst such beauty and grandeur.
It was when I turned to climb into bed that I realised I was not alone.
Standing a few feet away from me, Jim put his hand swiftly across my mouth to silence the gasp which rose instinctively. Very quietly he led me to the bed and we sat on the edge, side by side almost touching so that we could speak in undertones which could not possibly be heard from outside the room.
“It’s our only chance to talk,” Jim explained. “Tomorrow I leave.”
“You were staying for Christmas, is it because the Hoppers have come?”
“Right. Betsy wasn’t expecting them.” He smiled, the lopsided smile I remembered from previous meetings.
“Who are you?” I asked. “Jim Martin or Jim Bellamy?”
He shrugged, “It all depends.”
“Does Betsy know- – - “
He broke in; “She knows me as Bellamy.”
“Why did she get you to trace me – and just how long were you digging around into my life?” This still rankled and I let it show in my voice.
“Poor little Marion!” Again the lopsided grin. “It was very interesting, I learned a lot, about Bill as well as you.”
“No doubt, but why?” I repeated.
“Betsy was lonely, surely she told you.”
Obviously we weren’t getting anywhere so I tried a different tack, there was so much I wanted to know it was pointless to waste time on this one query. “The Hoppers,” I said. “Why doesn’t Betsy want them to know you are here?”
“You ask a lot of questions, Marion,” he said calmly. “Now I am going to ask you one. Just exactly where is Bill and why isn’t he at home with you for Christmas?”
It was a personal question and I strongly resented it. Probably, I admitted to myself, because it was a sore point with me too. “That is entirely our affair.” I said coldly.
Can We Can Peaches?
Can the world please close the door on the Geldofs? I have had it with the extent of scrutiny and media coverage given to this dysfunctional brood of attention seeking ego-maniacs.
Today, you could hardly escape the news that Peaches married some guy in a band she had known for five minutes at the Little White Chapel in Vegas. So what? She’s hardly reinvented the wheel has she? Young, spoiled and directionless tabloid whore has quickie marriage in Vegas. I think Nikki Hilton and Britney Spears already had that one covered.
Drugs overdose? Yes, that’s also very original. How about screaming at the paramedics trying to save your worthless life because you assume they’ve got nothing better to think about that hawking your vomit stained story to The Sun? How about a ‘thanks for saving my life’?
How about turning up at an event, screaming at the assembled paparazzi to leave you alone, only to discover they’d turned up for Kim Cattral (read: a GENUINE star) and most certainly not you.
And when your sense of entitlement really boils over, go on a shoplifting spree like Winona Ryder. Absolutely. The world really wants to know just how fucked up you all are. But eking out a lifetime of money making on minimal talent and maximum mouth is just what your dad has managed. So the apple doesn’t fall far from this tree.
What child of the 80s can forget Geldof assuring a prime Live Aid spot for his band The Boomtown Rats and their altogether forgettable song? As he delivered a series of flat notes coupled with steely stares and over-emphasised ‘how to dies’, it became obvious his desire to be viewed as a demi-god outweighed all else.
And his marriage to (Obligatory Tragic Figure) Paula Yates produced a couple of tabloid headline hungry offspring. Big deal. Big surprise. They’d shut up if we stopped looking at them, stopped penning features examining what went wrong, what can Bob do, what can the world do, how can we save these girls from a lifetime of mental anguish?
Cut up their credit cards and make the bitches work for a living. They’re not troubled. They’re over-indulged and bored.
Nurses banned from wearing bad shoes
In early 2007, a peculiar item appeared on the streets of Manhattan.
Plastic, clumpy, ugly and bizarre looking, (I’m not talking about Jocelyne Wildenstein), they emerged in small numbers before mushrooming at an alarming and unfathomable rate.
I’m talking about Crocs. Those plastic clogs which are to footwear what Darren Day is to single fathers. Last summer it seemed everyone on that fabulous little island owned a pair. But not me, I still had enough respect for the beauty of footwear to avert my eyes.
But as well as looking fucking stupid, Crocs also endanger lives. Viennese hospitals have banned nurses from wearing them after technical evaluations revealed they are not anti-static and could interfere with hospital equipment.
Jesus. Imagine dying because a pair of Crocs fucked up your life support.
“I’m sorry Mrs Pickles, we were unable to save your husband after he went into cardiac arrest. Unfortunately the Croc shoes triggered a computer malfunction in the hospital’s nerve centre which in turn, switched off the program which told the machines to keep his heart going. We done everything we can..but the power of the Crocs was just too strong..”
