Blogger, my blog host, gives me insights into the hits I recieve, info such as which countries people have visited from, what time of day is most popular, even things like which operating system is most popular, it even gives a pie chart of the various operating systems! Like who in the name of Satan would want to know that? Another snippet of useless information it offers is what phrases have people googled to arrive at this poorly written shite very informative weblog of the highest order. This I look at sometimes as it often throws up some crazy insights into the minds of the googling working class. Today's offerings:
abu hamza key holder
"spurn trying"
co workers suck eachother off
now then now then glad he's not alive
i cant feel my legs pig
mince lion for sale.
Mince Lion for sale? I'm gonna google that......yep, I come up second one down on google. Hmmm. This perhaps offers more of an insight into the poor quality subject matter on here than the minds of the proletariat.
I promise I will try to improve.
Chestnut Eared Bunting? Holy jesus christ mamma.
There's a voice that keeps on calling me,
down the road, that's where I'll always be.
And every step I take, I'll make a new friend, Can't stay for long just ture around and I'm gone again.
Honest, I will tell you about interesting things one day. Even a report from Spurn, which is meant to be the whole point of this.
Good evening. Spurn was, how do I say this, a bit shit. October. Mid October. I even went on my birthday (15th) to extract birthday treats. And thanks for all the happy birthday goodwill messages. Birthday treats included 2 Chiffs along Westfield Lane (I did Easington for most of that day), 2 Jays in the same area which in any other year would be pretty mega for the Spurn area. Without checking, I reckon Spurn's had more.....erm....Radde's than Jays. I think that's about right. Then 3 Redpoll sp. dropped straight into Sammy's from on-high. Chances. They were flighty and I never nailed the bastards.
Rio Ferdinand - what a wanker. I hate that racist.
L***s - typical showing.
Hull City - back where we belong, the top team in Yorkshire
Sheffield tomorrow - the mighty Wolfsbane playing live.
There.
That's it, I'm pisses.
That was meant to say I'm pissed, but "I'm pisses" sound infinitely better.
I'm pisses.
Rattle rattle jewellery jewellery say everything twice say everything twice.
Jimmy Savile. Who'd have thought it eh?
Well.....I would actually.
I once saw Jimmy Savile on a twitch. I'd twitched Pied Wheat AND Woodchat Shrike from Leeds to Scarborough on train back in my University days. I dipped both, but on the sea front whilst searching, Jimmy Savile came jogging by! At the time, I used to do exaggerated impressions of Jimmy Spitting Image style, much to the chagrin (or amusement) of Jim, of Research Dept fame. Jimmy jogged past, training for his next marathon and said "hello" to me and fingered an innocent girl who just 'appened to be in his way.
I like grammar and it's effects. Look at this sentence:
Jimmy Savile - pervert.
Change the grammar:
Jimmy's a vile pervert.
Coincidence? I think not. Susan Boyle has leapt to the defence of Savile, saying she was on his show when she was 15 and he definitely didn't touch her.
The BBC News channel just displayed images of the three women who claimed that Jimmy Savile interfered with them sexually. They showed a current picture of each of the women and a picture taken of each of them from the 1970s. The caption read: Now, then. Now, then. Now, then.
Jimmy Savile's family have had the gravestone removed along with all the flowers as a mark of respect. It just leaves a small hole and no bush around it. Just what he would have wanted.
But he's dead. I'm glad he's dead. There. I'm not sure if I've ever said that sentence before. Actually, I'm not glad he's dead. I wish he was still alive so he could face the charges, face the public, and face the victims. When I saw the lucky bastard sick pervert who got away with banging school girls on Scarborough front, he was wearing the most garish shell suit imaginable. When he died Primark brought out a shell suit in his honour. The top was a normal, adult sized shell suit top but you had to really try and squeeze into the kid's bottoms.
They've just found his diary, his last entry was about 13 years old.
Allegedly: BBC cover up, Savile supplied boys to Ted Heath from "the" Jersey children's home, yes, that Ted Heath, John Peel, Fluff Freeman's kinky parties, children supplied by Savile plied with drugs and alcohol, Jonathon King present, Savile denied ever visiting the children's home on Jersey - there are pictures of him there, Heath regularly took boys on his yacht for the weekend, "Mr Eddy" is a well known term in and around Hampstead and the children's home nearby, Esther Rantzen (matriarch of child line) allegedly knew about Savile, hypocritical nazi, but worst of all, Savile had a tax debt when he died. How could he do such a thing?.....etc, etc....
All I know is that a LOT of people must've known about Savile. Mainly BBC orientated people. Heads should fucking roll.
Enquiries need to begin.
Heads should roll.
Simple as that.
Hello. I used to work at Dhombzonz Blazdigz. It is always ten to five. I don't go anywhere anymore. I watched a "rom/com" last night! It was absolutely terrible.
