The Edmondson Blog

Congratulations to Cata who has had her very first feature published in the Sunday Telegraph. Click here to read her article on Northern Cyprus and drive her traffic through the roof!

I pretty much looked like Beetlejuice on Saturday morning and Shrunkenhead on Sunday morning. I think I'm going to detox this week.

Great dinner with Hepburn, Kenney and Hills earlier at The Ebury. Great food, great wine, shame about the company.

Apologies for Kenney's hairpiece, which seems to have a life of its own.

I always thought this was an urban legend.



A shame it's dubbed!

Bob: Here's the last of our five-point questions. Girls, tell me where, specifically, is the weeeeeiirdest place that you personally, girls, have ever gotten the urge the make whoopee. The weirdest place. Olga?
Olga: Umm . . . (audience laughter)
[pause]
Bob: Yes, Olga?
Olga: Uh . . .
Henry: Go ahead.
Bob: Yes, Olga.
Olga: I'm trying to think. Umm . . . [Turns to husband.] Gee Henry, what did you say?
Bob: Hey, don't ask him. He can't help you out at all.
Olga: Is it in the ass? [Last three words bleeped]
Bob: No no no . . . no . . . what I'm talking about is the weirdest location, the weirdest place . . .
Olga: The weirdest location. I don't know. [Laughs]
Hank: [Laughs uproariously]

Hat tip: Claudia

Yoga from India


Yoga from Ireland

When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to take it out on someone, don't take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don't know.

I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I'd forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed it. A man answered, saying, "Hello."

I politely said, "This is Jeff. Could I please speak with Robyn Carter?"
Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear, "Get the right f*****ing number!" and the phone was slammed down on me.

I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude. When I tracked down Robyn's correct number to call her, I found that I had accidentally reversed the last two digits. After hanging up with her, I decided to call the 'wrong'number again.

When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled "You're an asshole!" and hung up. I wrote his number down with the word 'asshole' next to it,and put it in my desk drawer.

Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day,I'd call him up and yell, "You're an asshole!"

It always cheered me up.

When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic "asshole calling" would have to stop.

So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John Smith from Cingular. I'm calling to see if you're familiar with our Caller ID Program?"

He yelled "NO!" and slammed down the phone.

I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an asshole!"

One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot.

Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I'd been waiting for that spot,but the idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his back window which included his phone number, so I wrote down the number.

A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (I had his number on speed dial), I thought that I'd better call the BMW asshole,too.

I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?"

"Yes, it is," he said.

"Can you tell me where I can see it?" I asked.

"Yes, I live at 1340 Roswell Pines Drive , in Sandy Springs. It's a yellow house, and the car's parked right out in front."

"What's your name?" I asked

"My name is Don Hansen," he said.

"When's a good time to catch you, Don?"

"I'm home every evening after five."

"Listen, Don, can I tell you something?"

"Yes?"

"Don, you're an asshole!" Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial.

Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call. Then I came up with an idea.

I called Asshole #1.

"Hello."

"You're an asshole!" (But I didn't hang up.)

"Are you still there?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"Stop calling me," he screamed.

"Make me," I said.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"My name is Don Hansen."

"Yeah? Where do you live?"

"Asshole, I live at 1340 Roswell Pines Drive, Sandy Springs, a yellow house, with my black Beamer parked in front."

He said, "I'm coming over right now, Don. And you had better start saying your prayers."

I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, asshole," and hung up.

Then I called Asshole #2. "Hello?" he said.

"Hello, asshole," I said.

He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are..."

"You'll what?" I said.

"I'll kick your ass," he exclaimed.

I answered, "Well, asshole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now."

Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 1340 Roswell Pines Drive in Sandy Springs and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.

Then I called WXIA News about the gang war going down in a quiet Sandy Springs neighborhood on Roswell Pines Drive.

I quickly got into my car and headed over to Roswell Pines Drive. I got there just in time to watch two assholes beating the shit out of each other in front of six cop cars, an overhead police helicopter and a news crew.

NOW I feel much better.

Hat tip: George

What better way to recover from a night of hard lash than Sunday lunch round at Wakey's? From left: Shani, Sian, Georgie, Colin, Will, Wakey, Will, Charlotte.

After a lashtastic night out at Tryst on Fulham Road it was all back to Casa Edmondson to carry on the party. In attendance: Colin, Heps, Mel, Cath (unknown character who decided to join in the fun) and myself. Late night shenanigans involving forfeits of nibbling food of different body parts and vodka out of different bodily recesses ensued. Survivors photo taken at 6am.

More photos from the evening here.

Ps. Do Heps and Colin have anything they want to share?

I had an absolutely fantastic lunch with my very good school friend Howard earlier at the Cross Keys pub in Chelsea. On the way back to South Ken station, I passed Chelsea Fire Station and remembered my Pa being asked by Lady Chelsea to plant a tree outside the station around twelve years ago. In the years since, I have been proud to do my bit to ensure the tree grows tall and strong by watering it late on Saturday nights.

Brazier and Hannah's engagement drinks last night. Great fun; I even bumped into an old friend from school. Was at Firehouse in South Kensington - probably the most expensive club I've ever been to - we're talking 6 Great British Pounds for a bottle of beer. I stuck to the cheap white wine which has turned my brain to goo.

Hat tip: Claudia

The Washington Post has published the winning submissions to its yearly neologism contest.

Part One -- in which readers are asked to supply alternate meanings for common words:

1. Coffee (n.), the person upon whom one coughs.
2. Flabbergasted (adj.), appalled over how much weight you have gained.
3. Abdicate (v.), to give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.
4. Esplanade (v.), to attempt an explanation while drunk.
5. Willy-nilly (adj.), impotent.
6. Negligent (adj.), describes a condition in which you absentmindedly answer the door in your nightgown.
7. Lymph (v.), to walk with a lisp.
8. Gargoyle (n.), olive-flavored mouthwash.
9. Flatulence (n.) emergency vehicle that picks you up after you are run over by a steamroller.
10. Balderdash (n.), a rapidly receding hairline.
11. Testicle (n.), a humorous question on an exam.
12. Rectitude (n.), the formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.
13. Pokemon (n), a Rastafarian proctologist.
14. Oyster (n.), a person who sprinkles his conversation with Yiddishisms.
15. Frisbeetarianism (n.), (back by popular demand): The belief that, when you die, your soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.
16. Circumvent (n.), an opening in the front of boxer shorts worn by Jewish men.


Part Two -- in which readers are asked to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition:

1. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.
2. Foreploy (v): Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.
3. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period.
4. Giraffiti (n): Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.
5. Sarchasm (n): The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.
6. Inoculatte (v): To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.
7. Hipatitis (n): Terminal coolness.
8. Osteopornosis (n): A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)
9. Karmageddon (n): It's like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a serious bummer.
10. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.
11. Glibido (v): All talk and no action.
12. Dopeler effect (n): The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.
13. Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've accidentally walked through a spider web.
14. Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.
15. Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a grub in the fruit you're eating.
16. Ignoranus (n): A person who's both stupid and an asshole.

Hat tip: Claudia

Hat tip: Habanero

Tech support: What kind of computer do you have?
Female customer: A white one...

===============

Customer: Hi, this is Celine. I can't get my diskette out. Tech
support: Have you tried pushing the Button?
Customer: Yes, sure, it's really stuck.
Tech support: That doesn't sound good; I'll make a note.
Customer: No , wait a minute... I hadn't inserted it yet... it's still
on my desk... sorry....

===============

Tech support: Click on the 'my computer' icon on to the left of the screen.
Customer: Your left or my left?

===============

Tech support: Good day. How may I help you?
Male customer: Hello... I can't print.
Tech support: Would you click on "start" for me and...
Customer: Listen pal; don't start getting technical on me! I'm not Bill Gates.

===============

Customer: Hi, good afternoon, this is Martha, I can't print. Every
time I try, it says 'Can't find printer'. I've even lifted the
printer and placed it in front of the monitor, but the computer still
says he can't find it...

===============

Customer: I have problems printing in red...
Tech support: Do you have a color printer?
Customer: Aaaah....................thank you.

===============

Tech support: What's on your monitor now, ma'am?
Customer: A teddy bear my boyfriend bought for me at the 7-11.

===============
Customer: My keyboard is not working anymore.
Tech support: Are you sure it's plugged into the computer?
Customer: No. I can't get behind the computer.
Tech support: Pick up your keyboard and walk 10 paces back.
Customer:! OK Tech support: Did the keyboard come with you?
Customer: Yes
Tech support: That means the keyboard is not plugged in. Is there
another keyboard?
Customer: Yes, there's another one here. Ah...that one does work...

===============

Tech support: Your password is the small letter "a" as in apple, a
capital letter V as n Victor, the number 7.
Customer: Is that 7 in capital letters ?

===============

Customer: I can't get on the Internet.
Tech support: Are you sure you used the right password?
Customer: Yes, I'm sure. I saw my colleague do it.
Tech support: Can you tell me what the password was?
Customer: Five stars.

===============

Tech support: What anti-virus program do you use?
Customer: Netscape.
Tech support: That's not an anti-virus program.
Customer: Oh, sorry...Internet Explorer.

===============

Customer: I have a huge problem. A friend has placed a screen saver on
my computer, but every time I move the mouse, it disappears.

===============

Tech support: How may I help you?
Customer: I'm writing my first e-mail.
Tech support: OK, and what seems to be the problem?
Customer: Well, I have the letter 'a' in the address, but how do I get
the circle around it?

===============

A woman customer called the Canon help desk with a problem with her
printer. Tech support: Are you running it under windows?
Customer: "No, my desk is next to the door, but that is a good point.
The man sitting in the cubicle next to me is under a window, and his
printer is working fine."

===============

Tech support: "Okay Bob, let's press the control and escape keys at
the same time. That brings up a task list in the middle of the
screen. Now type the letter "P" to bring up the Program Manager."
Customer: I don't have a P.
Tech support: On your keyboard, Bob.
Customer: What do you mean?
Tech support: "P".....on your keyboard, Bob.
Customer: I'M NOT GOING TO DO THAT

Hat tip: Bonney

After my wine course this evening (something which the thought of made me queasy) I had a very enjoyable dinner with my good buddies George, Charlotte, Hills and Ginia. Whilst chewing on my perfectly prepared lamb, I was thinking about the last week of birthday celebrations, which have been out of this world. It's been non-stop hilarity, from Bella's dinner party to this evening, via Casino Royale and a refried boogie at Homefield. As Sgt. Pepper said: "It's getting very near the end." What an adventure!

I have never been to a restaurant like it! Archipelago, near Warren St. is the most outrageous diner I've ever been to. I started off with peacock, followed by kangaroo. All delicious, but that was followed by two double shots of absinthe bathed in snake (see photo) and a chocolate scorpion, which was the most revolting item ever to pass my lips. Despite the eventual heave, a super evening.

Click here for the other photos.

David Fearn, 23, is now known as James Dr No From Russia with Love Goldfinger Thunderball You Only Live Twice On Her Majesty's Secret Service Diamonds Are Forever Live and Let Die The Man with the Golden Gun The Spy Who Loved Me Moonraker For Your Eyes Only Octopussy A View to a Kill The Living Daylights Licence to Kill Golden Eye Tomorrow Never Dies The World Is Not Enough Die Another Day Casino Royale Bond.

A professor was giving a lecture on "Involuntary Muscular
Contractions" to first year medical students.

Realising that this was not the most riveting subject the professor
decided to lighten the mood slightly.

He pointed to a young woman in the front row and said, "Do you know
what your asshole is doing while you're having an orgasm?"

She replied, "He's probably drinking beer at the bar with his friends."

Hat tip: Claudia

SOCIALISM: You have 2 cows, and you give one to your neighbour.

COMMUNISM: You have 2 cows. The State takes both and gives you some milk.

FASCISM: You have 2 cows. The State takes both and sells you some milk.

NAZISM: You have 2 cows. The State takes both and shoots you.

BUREAUCRATISM: You have 2 cows. The State takes both, shoots one,
milks the other, then throws the milk away...

TRADITIONAL CAPITALISM: You have two cows. You sell one and buy a bull.
Your herd multiplies, and the economy grows. You sell them and retire
on the income.

SURREALISM: You have two giraffes. The government requires you to take
harmonica lessons

AN AMERICAN CORPORATION: You have two cows. You sell one, and force
the other to produce the milk of four cows. Later, you hire a
consultant to analyse why the cow has dropped dead.

ENRON VENTURE CAPITALISM: You have two cows. You sell three of them to
your publicly listed company, using letters of credit opened by your
brother-in-law at the bank, then execute a debt/equity swap with an
associated general offer so that you get all four cows back, with a
tax exemption for five cows. The milk rights of the six cows are
transferred via an intermediary to a Cayman Island Company secretly
owned by the majority shareholder who sells the rights to all seven
cows back to your listed company. The annual report says the company
owns eight cows, with an option on one more. Sell one cow to buy a new
president of the United States, leaving you with nine cows. No balance
sheet provided with the release. The public buys your bull.

THE ANDERSEN MODEL: You have two cows. You shred them.

A FRENCH CORPORATION: You have two cows. You go on strike, organise a
riot, and block the roads, because you want three cows.

A JAPANESE CORPORATION: You have two cows. You redesign them so they
are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and produce twenty times the
milk. You then create a clever cow cartoon image called 'cowkimon' and
market it worldwide.

A GERMAN CORPORATION: You have two cows. You re-engineer them so they
live for 100 years, eat once a month, and milk themselves.

AN ITALIAN CORPORATION: You have two cows, but you don't know where
they are. You decide to have lunch.

A RUSSIAN CORPORATION: You have two cows. You count them and learn you
have five cows. You count them again and learn you have 42 cows. You
count them again and learn you have 2 cows. You stop counting cows and
open another bottle of vodka.

A SWISS CORPORATION: You have 5000 cows. None of them belong to you.
You charge the owners for storing them.

A CHINESE CORPORATION: You have two cows. You have 300 people milking
them. You claim that you have full employment, and high bovine
productivity, and arrest the newsman who reported the real situation.

AN INDIAN CORPORATION: You have two cows. You worship them.

A BRITISH CORPORATION: You have two cows. Both are mad.

IRAQI CORPORATION: Everyone thinks you have lots of cows. You tell
them that you have none. No-one believes you, so they bomb the shit
out of you and invade your country. You still have no cows, but at
least now you are part of a Democracy....

WELSH CORPORATION: You have two cows. The one on the left looks very
attractive.

AUSTRALIAN CORPORATION: You have two cows. Business seems pretty good.
You close the office and go for a few beers to celebrate.

Hat tip: Claudia

I've managed to get myself featured in the Shanghai edition of Tatler (err..) as a result of bustin' some shapes with the beautiful people in the Barbarossa Lounge. Click here to view. Enjoy the chest wig!

Three of my favourite adverts of all time...


More info


More info


More info

I've just finished reading Papillon by Henri Charriere. It is, without doubt, the best book I have ever read (even beating Real Sex by Grub Smith). It's gone straight to the top of my top 10 favourite books.

A few people have emailed wondering why I've included the cinema clip in my top 3 favourite Simpsons moments. I need to explain: THX is a sound reproduction system for cinemas, developed by George Lucas' company Lucasfilm in 1983. Accompanying the logo is a piece of music called "Deep Note", a distinctive synthesized crescendo sound. There is an ongoing joke about the volume and sheer force of Deep Note during the THX trailer, hence the Simpsons parody. I also like how Deep Note sounds, and anyone who has listened to it at full volume in the cinema will appreciate its impact.

I'm afraid Google have updated their Blogger service, which I use to publish my blog, which now means I can't update during the day. As this is when I usually have most time to spare, I'm afraid the updates will be few and far between from now on, depending on whether I'm free to blog in the evenings and not out on the razzle.

Why did Nivea Cream?
Because Max Factor.

Hat tip: Gizmo

There are many things I've put on my Christmas list over the years: an electric shaver; a weights bench; the 39 piece DIY set to help my Dad, but non has excited me more than this: a t-shirt that interprets your air guitar playing! Straight in at number 1 on my 2006 Christmas List.

Australian scientists have created a T-shirt that allows air guitarists to play real music - without resorting to a real guitar.

The T-shirt has motion sensors built into its elbows that pick up movements and relay them wirelessly to a computer which interprets them as guitar riffs.

One arm is interpreted as picking chords while the other strums.

The "wearable instrument shirt" is adaptable to both right and left-handed would-be rock stars.

Congratulations to Bella for the article and Claire for the free publicity! Click on the title to read the offending article on The Sun website.

After my discovery of the Monster Thickburger and the Gut Buster (which George and I nearly took a detour for on our Roller Coaster Tour), I've now found out about the Heart Attack Grill, which is unashamedly serving up the Quadruple Bypass Burger! I've never seen anything like it. Click on the title for the picture.

I feel a road trip via Tempe, Arizona coming on.

The average cost of rehabilitating a seal after the Exxon Valdez oil spill in Alaska was $80,000. At a special ceremony, two of the most expensively-saved animals were being released back into the wild amid cheers and applause from onlookers. A minute later, in full view, a killer whale ate them both.

A woman came home to find her husband in the kitchen shaking frantically, almost in a dancing frenzy, with some kind of wire running from his waist towards the electric kettle. Intending to jolt him away from the deadly current, she whacked him with a handy plank of wood, breaking his arm in two places. Up to that moment, he had been happily listening to his Walkman.

Iraqi terrorist Khay Rahnajet didn't pay enough postage on a letter bomb. It came back with "return to sender" stamped on it. Forgetting it was the bomb; he opened it and was blown to bits.

Hat tip: George

I must try this sometime...



Hat tip: Jools

Three of my favourite clips from The Simpsons I've just found on YouTube.

After spending the GDP of a small African country on booze, Botty, Jools and I went to a fantastic restaurant in Sangatte for a plateau de fruits de mer, which we comprehensively dealt with.

Please accept my humble apologies for the lack of posts this week. Not only have I been ridiculously busy, but I've had trouble accessing my blog to post. No longer! I have just taken ownership of a brand new laptop, which I've now configured for optimal blogging action, so get ready for some serious updates.

Over on my Top 10 Lists blog, I've started an entry to try to assemble the ten best songs of all time to listen to in the gym. I'm getting bored of my current playlist and need something fresh. I don't want any trip hop crap, just ten songs that have a decent beat that I can listen to on the cross trainer. Please help out!

What happens if you don't ensure everyone's buckled their seatbelts!

As many people know, I'm not a fan of tattoos (see Top 10s passim) though I've recently thought of getting one myself. My father used to drive a 1980 white Trans Am with an eagle on the bonnet. I'm tempted, in remembrance of the those fun times (and Smokey and the Bandit), to get an eagle tattooed across my back. I'd be interested to hear my learned readers' thoughts.

For the next in my series of learning something new every day... let me tell you what I know about the death of Wild Bill Hickok:

On August 1, 1876 Wild Bill was playing cards in Nuttall and Mann's No. 10 Saloon in Deadwood Gulch, South Dakota when one of the players dropped out and bystander, Jack McCall, took his place. McCall kept losing and at the end of the evening was broke. Hickok gave him money with which to buy dinner.

The next day, on August 2, Hickok returned to the No. 10 and joined in a game of cards and, unusually, sat with his back to the saloon instead of his usual back to the wall. A few hours later Jack McCall entered the bar and stopped a few paces behind Hickok. He pointed his gun at Hickok's head, pulled the trigger and shouted, "Damn you, take that!" The gunshot instantly killed Wild Bill.

Wild Bill was holding 2 black aces, 2 black eights, known ever since as the Dead Man's Hand. The fifth card has been held up for speculation but was probably the queen of diamonds

McCall ran out of the saloon and attempted to escape on a horse that was tethered nearby, but the saddle had been loosened, and he fell to the ground. McCall ran down the street and hid in a butcher's shop where he was captured by a large crowd.

The next morning McCall was tried by a hastily-assembled group of miners in McDaniel's Theater. McCall defended himself by stating that he was avenging his brother whom Hickok had murdered. It was later discovered that McCall never had a brother. Despite overwhelming evidence of premeditated murder, McCall was acquitted.

McCall was released but told to leave Deadwood immediately. He headed to Cheyenne and then to Laramie. He boasted in saloons along the way that he had killed Wild Bill. An authority who overheard McCall arrested him on August 29. He was then taken to Yankton, Dakota Territory for trial. Jack McCall was found guilty on December 6, 1876. He was hanged on March 1, 1877, for his crime and buried in the southwest corner of a Catholic cemetery.

In 1881, when the cemetery was moved, his body was exhumed. It was discovered that he had been buried with the noose still around his neck.

Hat tip: Puppa

Click here to translate your name into its Russian equivalent. Just enter your name in the box. Clever...

Hat tip: Puppa

A man was arrested on suspicion of carrying a concealed weapon after police found him outdoors — naked — and he told them he had a tool in his rectum, authorities said.

The man was lying on a tree stump, masturbating beside a nature path, near a Bay Area Rapid Transit station Thursday, police said.

John Sheehan, 33, of Pittsburg, was initially arrested on suspicion of indecent exposure. But when asked whether he was carrying anything police should know about, Sheehan mentioned the tool, said El Cerrito Detective Cpl. Don Horgan.

“You can’t get much more concealed than that,” Horgan said.

Click the title to read the full story on MSNBC.

After a serious fry up, I went off for lunch with my good friends Simon and Olivia and was introduced to baby Islay. What a sweetie! Unfortunately, she was an angel all day until photo-time came, then the waterworks arrived. I managed to sneak a photo in between blubs, though it doesn't show my baby-handling skills in the best light!

After a superb 30th birthday party for my good friend Hovis at Le Cafe Du Jardin in Covent Garden, I went off to Orlebar's house where we managed to launch 91 rockets from his roof terrace over The Queens Club. It was a health and safety minefield: not only was everyone standing two metres from the rockets and not the required 25, the acrid sulphurous smoke must've shortened the guests' lives by thirty minutes a piece. Great fun though! The photo is actually from the night.

I've just read the public sector rich list for this year and it makes interesting reading:

There are 3 people in the public sector who earn more than £1 million a year.
There are 14 people in the public sector earning above £500,000 a year.
There are 46 people earning above £250,000 a year.

Top of the list is my old boss, Bob Kiley who's made £1.25m this year, despite quitting in January! Nice work, if you can get it. At lest I know there's a potential big-dollar future in the public sector if I decide my future lies there, though I've got a long way to go to make the list. (For comparison, my trust "Salary Timer" tells me my daily 5 minute poo makes me / loses the taxpayer £1.19.)

If you're off on a shoot this season, watch out for this guy!

I actually prefer watching Family Guy to the Simpsons (especially post-season 10). This clip sums up the humour. Genius!

Look What You Have Done - video powered by Metacafe
Ruined for life...

This clever website lets you locate a friend using their mobile phone number. I suggest you don't test it using your girlfriend's number, unless you can be sure where they are.

Hat tip: Malc.

UPDATED: Link now works!