England v USA—Whatever is a Girl to Do?

11 Jun

It’s important for me to post this before Saturday’s match.  I’ve recently received a few communications (some bordering on threatening) asking me to declare my support for one or the other team. I have no qualms about being upfront regarding my allegiance and I shall do so now publicly.

But before I do, let me say that I am very proud of both countries’ efforts.

Soccer, as the US so charmingly insists on calling it, has never garnered much support in that country, but it’s good to see some young men have ignored that, learned to play and do so quite well. More impressive (and perhaps partially due to the influence of one particular player in that country) is the passion within the team. It’s a lovely time to be alive when men clinging to each other is a symbol of patriotism. I love that this US captain is so athletically gifted. Mmmmm. . . me likey.

The English, on the other hand, have always been shit hot football supporters and there’s little more satisfying than watching a team meet the expectations of its fans.  Not one, not two, but every single player on this team is ready to take on the world. And you can’t fault them for being keen. England has won the World Cup before (I can’t recall the exact year and it’s something they rarely mention), and they could very well do so again.

Additionally, let me say that I hope both nations come together tomorrow to support their players. It must be such a thrill for anyone to be adored by all of their country—a thrill most of us could only dream of (though my recent placing in both Maxim‘s and FHM‘s Woman of the Year lists brings me slightly closer to that thrill than most of you will ever be). Having some national pride doesn’t have to lead to ignorance, insanity and racism.

So now that I’ve cleared up any doubts about where my devotion lies, I’ll hear no more about.

Go team.

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Full Facial Reconstruction Doesn’t Have to Happen to You

5 Jun

There are some real misconceptions about the eating of crust on bread. Some claim that it’s the healthiest part. Many people feel it is too common to put down one’s throat. Obviously this debate is pointless.

A similarly pointless debate is about dangerous pets. I’m not denying it’s sad when a child gets mauled, but whenever this occurs it inevitably leads to a debate about owning dangerous pets. The issue, of course, is not the pets themselves, but the idiots who own them. Animals (like children) need to be nurtured, nourished and neutered; if a person is unwilling to take these responsibilities seriously, it is they who should be “humanely destroyed,” not the dogs, chimpanzees or budgerigars. Remember, guns don’t kill people; people kill people.

Having shared my life with a great menagerie of animal friends, I wanted to produce an informative pamphlet that I feel all potential pet owners should browse before making their lifetime commitments. Unfortunately the RSPCA was unwilling to fund my work on said pamphlet so I’m afraid the cheeks of small children and the animals who sink their teeth into them will have to continue to bear the brunt of this organisation’s selfish budgetary decisions. Being the good citizen that I am, though, I am willing to donate a few moments of my time to post a few suggestions here.

It is important to remember that while all humans are also animals, not all animals are humans. This is why you should never dress them in human clothes nor give them access to weapons of any sort. Although pets clearly can become members of the family, remember that their animal instincts can kick in at any time.  If an animal is hungry or angry, he will scrounge or attack. It’s just human nature.

Additionally, animals need to be trained and they learn from what they see. When a pup sees you kiss a child on the nose, he will want to do the same. Then your child’s face is ripped off and suddenly you’ve started a Daily Mail campaign to have the breed eliminated. Come on now. You shouldn’t be that surprised—animals see then animals do.

Needless to say all, animals need food, water, shelter and medical treatment.  If you can’t provide these, you definitely should not own a pet. Concentrate on doing your best with your children instead (note: they need food, water, shelter and medicine as well.)

In terms of exotic pets, my feeling is quite clear: leave them be. There are probably moral reasons to avoid them but most importantly, exotic pets are often unattractive and associating with anything unattractive reflects negatively on you. They do say people start to look like their pets, don’t forget.

Lastly, men who wear gold rings and women whose bra straps are ever visible in public should not be allowed to have a pet. In fact they shouldn’t be allowed to have a child. Scratch that: they just shouldn’t be allowed.

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No Guatemalans Have Died By My Hands Today

30 May

This isn’t a very nice thing to see staring you in the face when you innocently log on to check the state of a young starlet’s downfall:

Rest assured, my dears, this had virtually nothing do with me. It’s been years since I was in Central America and besides it was only one man and he had it coming. I am considering legal action for this blatant attempt to sully my reputation on an international scale, especially so near the upcoming release of my next tome, Just a Bit of Harmless Fun: A Pathology of Venereal Disease Amongst the Lesser Species.

Expect queues at your local bookshop on Tuesday!

UPDATE: 1 June 2010—I’m afraid “The Other Agatha” is wreaking more havoc. Not nice at all. Please don’t condemn all Agathas because of this.

Thank you to all who gathered two hours before shops opened to be first to purchase my newest bestseller. Your dedication will undoubtedly be rewarded in the next life.

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The Anniversary

17 May

Thank you to all the well wishers who wished me well this week. The eighteenth of May is a day that will forever stand as a testimony to the good that one woman and the Internet can do, as it marks the one year anniversary of Everyone Needs an Algonquin. I was going to do a rather extensive retrospective on Tuesday, but then I remembered I have a life and I have to live it.

Thank you especially to the lovely (I’m assuming young) man who sent the bouquet of violets. You must be a very close reader to know that I simply adore the scent. I was a bit disappointed to find you neglected to include honeysuckle, lilacs and freesia. Surely, expecting fans to be thorough is not that much to ask and mixed bouquets aren’t too expensive if you really care about a person.

We’ve had a very exciting year, haven’t we, readers? Many of you have been struggling with an uncertain future regarding political, social and financial issues and I’ve been documenting it all for my own literary acclaim and monetary reward. We’re really quite a good team, you and I. I have been mightily moved by the many letters of support I’ve received (both electronically and the normal way). I especially treasure those notes of thanks for the advice that I’ve provided on these pages (note: free of charge). While it’s touching to be considered such a benefactress, please remember that my gifts to you come in the form of knowledge and inspiration (read: stop with the begging letters, that’s not my scene).

So a slightly belated Happy Anniversary to you all. Without me, none of this could have been possible.

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Won’t Someone Stop Russell Crowe?

14 May

For those who don’t care about politics, I do apologise if my recent posts have not held your interest (though I encourage you to have a good think about your apparent lack of social and intellectual responsibilities). Today’s post may be more palatable to those people who apparently think celebrity is more important than policy.

Russell Crowe, a well known actor, stomped out of an interview with Mark Lawson, because he (Lawson) questioned whether or not his (Crowe’s) “English” accent in his (Crowe’s) new film had a bit of the Irish in it. Having not seen the film, I cannot testify as to whether or not this was a fair question (though I do wonder if groans, roars and mumbles can actually have any accent). The fact remains that Lawson is an interviewer, his job is to question. Additionally, Russell Crowe is rather a manly, macho man and Mark Lawson is more potato than human, so I’m sure Crowe must have scared little Lawson to death.

I don’t hold much truck with barbarians who abuse their power but I hold even less for celebrities who throw strops in public. As a public figure myself, I have on a few occasions been asked questions I deemed inappropriate (bra size should remain private between a lady and her lingerie fitter); however, I recognise that I have a duty to my fans to maintain civility in all circumstances. Just because Russell Crowe made one great film in his lifetime doesn’t preclude him from acting like a grown-up, even if his ickle feelings get hurt by a perceived criticism. He needs to learn how to, as I’m sure he himself has shouted at many a crying child, “Stop acting like a crying child” and be a man.

I won’t be going to see his film until he gets himself sorted. Truth be told, I don’t know why they cast a non-English actor in the role in the first place. And besides, I like my outlaws young and foxy, not Australian and brutish. I am too good of a person to mention Russell Crowe’s numerous hissy fits throughout the years. I wouldn’t stoop so low. However, even in isolation, what this tells me is here is a man with an anger problem. I would strongly suggest he contact a professional about the issue. Perhaps he and Sean Penn could take a class together. It’s always good to have a study buddy. Regardless of how he remedies the problem, he needs to remedy the problem.

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And So It Ends….

11 May

Earlier Brown resigned from the whole thing…..he said “Fuck it, I’ve had enough” (I’m loosely translating it from Politicianese). Whether it was from frustration or simple acceptance of defeat, he resigned as the leader of the party and the leader of our country. Brown got in touch with the Queen. And the rest is history.

I did speak to some American chums today. We’re actually getting a little  coverage in the US, which has to mean something (though I’m not sure just what). Here is what Americans are saying about the great Great Britain.

They also found the transfer of power quite hard to accept as it was without the flash of their inauguration.

Apparently President Obama has already big upped Cameron by phone. They’re quite good friends after they went out clubbing the last time Obama was in town. Obama praised Cameron’s rhythm and Dave commented that “No one vogues like the President.” So I guess it’s all set now.

It appears David Cameron is our man now. With a little Clegg on the side.

Hmmm…..I need to have a little think.

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The King Maker and The Game Changer

10 May

Gordon Brown pulled a dastardly trick today by announcing he’s standing down. Must have felt good (in a way) to show he still makes a difference (in a way).

Meanwhile Clegg is still whoring it up between the two parties. “Things are going well with Posh Boy,” he coyly whispers, “But wouldn’t someone from the other side like a little go?” Really! The Tories are promising AV (when I was in high school, AV meant the Audio-Visual Club, therefore my previous analogy of Clegg being the nerd holds true) while Labour’s agreed to chuck their leader. My oh my, Nicholas. Aren’t we the big I am?

Although it’s clearly giving him a rise in the trouser department, Clegg is ultimately doing the right thing and, more importantly, the thing he said he’d do. He said he’d talk first to the team who won the most, which he did, and now he’s talking to the other. We certainly can’t fault a man who keeps his promises (though why one of those promises has to do with pornography, I’m still unsure).

What’s more of a concern is which one of those twats in the Labour Party is going to become leader. Surely, it mustn’t be the little squirrel woman (in addition to her obvious shortcomings, she rides a motorbike for goodness sake!). I can’t picture Banana Boy as leader. Could we trust a woman with 9 points on her license to drive our nation forward? And Balls. No, not Balls. Balls should be lucky he’s got as far as he has with a name like that. No country, not even those with the most generous of obscenity laws, is going to be led by a man names Balls. (And lest you think I’m being petty, please recall that’s he made a right Balls-up with schools. Sure, it’s only kids, but do you want him doing something similar to people who really matter?)

So I suppose we’re still at the Waiting Game. Each and every party said they wanted change. It looks as though change it will be.

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The Day After Election Day 2010—In Case Something Happens

7 May

We have a hung parliament.

I’m not sure exactly what that means. I can only presume that all laws are in limbo until this gets sorted. Christopher says the traffic light is out near the Sainsbury’s roundabout and I notice that my post has yet to be delivered. I advise that we all stay in our houses until it’s safe again. If you venture out and come to danger, you will have no one to blame except yourself (especially if you didn’t vote).

From what I understand, after abandoning the traditional democratic route, our government may be decided via a technique most often employed in American high schools. Junior David Cameron was hoping to be Big Man on Campus yesterday.  His plan was muddled by the pesky underclassmen (whom he’s doggedly tried to befriend in the last few weeks, despite the fact he clearly despises most of them since their parents work at his father’s factory and they neglect to wear school colours on pep rally days) when they refused to vote him a clear winner for Prom King. He’s now courting sophomore Nick Clegg, the nerd who is bound to come of age after this experience but first must wrestle with a moral dilemma (if this were a John Hughes film, he’d be played by Anthony Michael Hall), with a “big and open offer.” Nick Clegg’s playing coy (after all it was just weeks ago Cameron and his gang gave him a swirlie in the boys’ bathroom) but seems to be flirting with the idea. Former Prom King, senior Gordon Brown, is trying to stay cool. He thinks he’s taking the high road by giving them the go ahead to talk behind the bike sheds, but says he’ll be waiting when Clegg sees Cameron for the bully he really is. Cameron’s made the “I’ll–call–you” sign to Clegg, who hopefully will have time for a quick chat with an older and wiser friend who lived through a similar situation back when he was in Downing Street High.

How will it work out? Will the rich kid get the prize? Will the outsider make a difference? Will the old guard learn a lesson? And where is Molly Ringwald?

I’ll be keeping you up to date as I can, but I must confess I’m glad Dimbleby’s signed off for a bit. He’s clearly over tired. I didn’t like the way he reacted to the discussion of the election on blogs and Twitter. David, don’t mock something you clearly don’t understand. Get some sleep, my son. Things always seems clearer after a little kip.

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Election Day 2010—As It Happens

6 May

7.10:  As a devoted citizen of Great Britain, not only did I submit my postal vote in plenty of time to be counted, I also went down to the polling station at the parish council to vote there, just to make sure.

8.30: Bumped into a second cousin, twice removed, of Lord Sutch at the flower shop…he’s got his fingers crossed, a mouse in his pocket and a very, very large rosette on his waistcoat.

9.33: Yesterday Nick Clegg tripped over a clump of grass while on walkabout at Royal Eastbourne Golf Club and muttered “Divot,” unaware his mic was still on. Was the scandal too late in the day to affect voters?

10.42: Despite the fact that I’ve not had it set this morning, my hair is looking rather fetching.

11.10: Jodie Marsh announces she’s hoping for a well hung parliament.

12.08: Could have sworn I heard a crack in the voice of our local radio DJ at the top of the hour, as he said the Prime Minister’s name. It was like a goodbye between lovers. I made sure to avert my eyes from the wireless, to show respect for his sorrow.

13.58: WE HAVE A WINNER! Kevin Pieterson is the man in power as England defeat Pakistan.

14.21: You mustn’t spoil your ballot paper—if it’s a close call, they award extra credit for neatness.

15.03: Crisis for the BNP. Hoping to get his party’s webpage back in its full glory, Nick Griffin spends the last twenty four hours trying to do a Downfall parody meme for the election, but cannot post it. He does not see the irony.

16.21: Rarely do we know in advance that a day is going to be historic. Today is one of those days. Here’s a thrifty tidbit for you: buy an issue of each of the major papers and seal them in plastic. In the future, you will be able to sell these on eBay for a good £2.50 each. Free money!

17.43: Cameron claims Obama’s support before realizing that the “slick” the President is working so hard to get sorted doesn’t refer to him.

18.15: Shock news…Charles Kennedy can’t take the pressure, steps down and has, in the last half hour, developed a drinking problem.

19.47: If you’ve not voted yet, get your little bottoms into gear. As soon as you’re behind the curtains, read each of the parties’ names carefully (sometimes they do try to trick you).

20.19: Christopher’s heading over here shortly to accompany me for the election results. It’s a potluck event. I’m providing cheese, crackers, biscuits, and other nibbles. Christopher’s bringing Bacardi Breezers.

21.14: If Nick Griffin is standing in Barking, shouldn’t Cameron represent Cockermouth, Brown Pity Me, and Clegg Lickey End?

22.00 Anyone who’s been turned away from the polling booth, please remember that my ballot box is accessible twenty four hours a day.

23.44: They’ll keep the red flag flying here (in Sunderland).

0.28: I do hereby declare that Joan Collins should keep her trap shut.

1.01: My first experience with a Swing–O–Meter was in my early twenties at a rather unorthodox job interview. It was measuring something slightly different than the one is tonight (though my result was highly un-Conservative).

1.34: Gordon Brown finally genuinely smiled. A genuine one is much less scary. Congratulations, Mister Prime Minister.

1.46: Freedom for Tooting!

2.21: Oh, Lembit. How we’ll miss your quirky ideas and gal pals.

2.32: Just because the UK followed the US style of televised debates doesn’t mean you needed to go whole hog and introduce American dodgy scandals at the polls. My word, there are already Facebook groups set up to protest!

3.01: Well done to the Monster Raving Loonies for giving Cameron a real run for his money. I’ve no doubt you fought as hard and as determinedly as you could. I’m sure your constituency is proud.

4.37: Porn destroys lives—ask Jacqui Smith.

4.52: Balls.

5.59: I can’t believe Nick Griffin’s reaction. I was surprised when he got the tears in his eyes, but when he fell down, went foetal and began rocking like a baby, I just about shit myself.

6.44: I’m cross with Christopher. I think he’s eaten too many biscuits. He’s just spent quite a bit of time moaning on the floor, distracting me from the lovely Nick Clegg’s results. I knew Jaffa Cakes were a bad idea. I’ve always said they’re not real biscuits; now perhaps Christopher will accept that I’m right.

7.08: Now I’m feeling a bit funny in the tummy. I didn’t have any Jaffa Cakes, mind—I think it’s just the feeling I get when I hear Clegg described as the “king maker.”

7.47: I’ve put Christopher to bed, but he can’t seem to settle. I’m going to go sit with him for a bit. Gordon, don’t stand down while I’m gone.

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Logic is the Beginning of Wisdom, Not the End

20 Apr

Now I’d never dream of calling myself the queen of logicians (see Wilson Monday’s article, “Miss Agatha Whitt-Wellington: The Queen of Logicians”), but I am a pretty reasonable person. I am able to complete a soduku or two and I can follow any instructions Mr Ikea throws my way (though generally I let Christopher complete the manual labour—he’s ever so good with his hands). However, it doesn’t take a genius to understand that there are some things that just make sense.  Mistreating the environment has a negative impact. A compassionate nation cares about its citizens’ health. Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should.

These are truths that quite frankly seem self-evident. But I worry that critical reasoning is falling by the wayside these days. Schools really need to step up to the plate. What must teachers be teaching if kids aren’t learning how to think properly? Why, when I was in high school, logic tests were required before graduation. We were each placed in locked trunks and given sets of instructions for our release, each step of which could only be completed after solving a brainteaser. We were not given our diplomas (nor food and water) before putting on our thinking caps and getting ourselves out.  (Before you begin thinking that my teachers were particularly cruel, remember that they contributed to making me the talented person I am today and know also that those who didn’t make it had their names engraved on lovely plaques that decorate the school’s custodial offices.)

Unfortunately, mis-logic seems to be the order of the day. Not long ago Pat Robertson claimed that the earthquake in Haiti was caused by the Haitians’ “pact to the Devil.” Now, really. As someone who has dabbled in voodoo at various times in her life (remember Sonny Bono? He was one of mine), I can testify that at no time was I required to swear allegiance to Lucifer. Despite the fact that Pat Robertson, as a televangelist, does have a direct line to God (I believe it’s a premium rate number), I’m afraid I just can’t believe that the Almighty works in this way. The argument is based on faulty reasoning. After all it implies that the only way the French would surrender is if the Devil himself got involved, and that certainly doesn’t ring true with the rest of their history.

Possibly the world’s most dangerous fuckwit in the logic department these days is one Mr Rush Limbaugh. Some of his gems include the promise to move to a country with universal health care if the US tries to offer universal health care; his claim that a white man withdrew from an election because he was a black man; and his blaming marital infidelity on Obama. So you see what we’re dealing with here. However, his most recent words of wisdom have literally knocked me out of my boots. Limbaugh believes that the volcano eruption in Iceland is God’s way of showing his disapproval of the US Health Care Bill.

Stop and think for just a moment. Given the fact that Limbaugh is still walking around breathing, we must believe that God is merciful, so it seems unlikely that he would cause suffering to so many people, just because one country’s government passed a bill he wasn’t keen on. After all, when he was cross with Sodom and Gomorrah, he threw his wrath right down on them, not some British tourists trying to get home from Portugal.

Additionally, from what I remember of his son, God doesn’t strike me as an insurance company fan. When Jesus healed the sick, did he require forms and pre-approval? Did he deny those with pre-existing conditions?

Rush Limbaugh spews bad logic like Eyjafjallajokull spews ash. Both get into our atmosphere, make people feel poorly, cause significant disruptions to air travel (well, you know what I mean) and must be contained.  When faced with a crisis, whether it involves being locked in a wooden trunk or a controversial federal bill, critical reasoning must prevail. Plate tectonics caused the Icelandic volcano to erupt, plain and simple. Besides, at this point, God’s too busy to be worrying about US politics. Most of his time is bound to be tied up voting to get Kate Gosselin off Dancing with the Stars. Duh.

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