Top 5 things that should have happened this decade....but didn't

If humanity had delivered on the prevailing beliefs and assumptions of the last century, the first decade of the 21st century would have yielded affordable space travel, world peace and hovering skateboards.

Well we've reached the end of the "noughties" and I'm still being dictated to furstratingly by the laws of gravity.

So, in the spirit of reviewing the decade as most serious publications will be doing, I am starting a "Top 5" list. Not necessarily the top 5 things to have happened this decade, rather the top 5 things that should have happened.

This is a collaborative exercise so I need your feedback. Please post your ideas.

Ladies and Gentlemen "THE TOP 5 THINGS THAT SHOULD HAVE HAPPENED THIS DECADE……BUT DIDN'T"

Number 5 - January 12th 2005 - Michael Jackson releases a new single that reaches number 1 in the US, the UK and Mars, smashing all manner of previous records. Entitled "Buckets of Love" Jackson's new song featured guest vocals from a re-animated John Lennon and Billy the Cyborg (part man, part vaccum cleaner). David Hasselhof, president of Mars, invited Jackson and his new band to perform in front of an audience of dignatories from around the planet including a cloned version of Marilyn Monroe and a host of robotic monkeys. The event was held at his winter palace, built using remnants of the Berlin wall shipped from the Earth.

Okay your turn.

Climbing the Corporate Ladder

Given that this blog is supposed to be about how to do stuff, mostly, I reckon it's about time I dished out some advice. What better place to start than making something of your working life?

I'd reckon that a significant percentage of you are working for "the man" and not yourselves. If that's the case, a significant percentage of you probably work in an office or at least, some of your work is done in an office.

Some of you will be at the bottom of the corporate ladder, crawling around for scraps and being treated like an insignificant piece of stomach bile by your "superiors". You'll probably know others who've made it a fair way up the slippery rungs of corporate success by burying their noses well up the sphincters of middle management. They're now Senior Manager or Associate Head of and they make damn sure you know that because it says so in their email signature. They're enjoying the slightly larger salaries but they've brown nosed their way there, so while the view might look appealing, it smells a lot like shit.

But there must be another way to achieve your goals? At least, the goals set for you in a decidedly one way open dialogue with your HR rep?

Hard work? Sure, that would do it. But who can be bothered with that these days.

I will be starting a series of posts designed to improve your standing in the office of today. Heed my advice and you'll end up in charge of your department in no time.

Lesson One - Meetings:

1. Call a meeting and make sure that you invite the director of your department along with managers of other areas, except for your own. That's an important part of this plan.
2. You must first have taken a photograph of your manager's face. Then lured him/her in to a cupboard at which point hold chloroform over their mouths and hey presto, they're out cold. Lock the door. This is crucial, I can't stress it enough.
3. Next, print out (using a colour printer) the photo that you took of their face. Cut out some holes where the eyes are. Tie a piece of string to the paper, this will be used to fasten the "mask" to your face.
4. Attend the meeting and address everyone as if you are your manager. Be sure to mimic their voice as effectively as possible. If you're a chap and your manager is a woman, hold your testicles tightly to achieve the level of falseto required.
5. Announce that you are (your manager is) afraid that couldn't make the meeting but that you have some important news anyway.
6. Repeat the following: "It is with great sadness, that I must insist on leaving and recommend that take my place as manager of ." People will be a bit surprised at this, so spice it up a little. Perhaps..."You see, I have developed a rare and disturbing penchant for stealing office equipment and performing indecent acts with them on people's desks after hours"
7. Stifle your giggling as the looks of confusion give way to disgust and anger. Throw in a clincher or two such as " I am most sorry for having defecated on your keyboard and for having cleaned it with a flask of my dog's urine".
8. Finally, flee the scene making monkey noises.
9. Get rid of the mask, place a jar of dog's urine in your manager's desk (ideally pre-prepared) and enter the meeting room. If you have a hat, wear this to show that you definitely weren't in here before.
10. Ask everyone what the matter is and console your director.
11. He (or she) is bound to offer you the now vacant role.

From experience, I reckon you can probably use this technique up to four times in the same company before somebody suspects something. If somebody questions you, they have volunteered themselves as the next target.

In Richard Branson's autobiography, he may or may not have stated that he used this no fewer than 18 times in the past.

Don't forget to report back and let us know how you get on. Good luck.

Spawn

Today I want to talk to you about children. Not in a way that might see me flagged on an FBI "Red Alert" list, I just want to cover off some thoughts and observations I've made and share some ideas.
If you are easily offended, don't read on, maybe just have a little peek, but don't read it all.

Unnatural

Firstly, lets take a look at the fact that people love to gush about; the beauty of child birth. The glory of bringing a new life in to this world that you have crafted, with your genitals, and will love and nurture.
Well sorry to shatter your wonderful illusion, but it's not natural! It's fucking weird! Think about it people! What you have is two to three minutes of intimacy… followed by the fertilisation of what is effectively an egg inside the woman.
This "egg" gradually becomes a little foetus that feeds THROUGH A TUBE from it's host (you might say mother, I beg to differ) like a parasite. A tube for Christ's sake! I've seen stuff like that before, and it's usually in movies. Movies like Alien! There is a little thing, growing inside of you and feeding off you through a tube for 9 months! How the hell is that natural or beautiful? Amazing, yes. Beautiful, no!

It seems just as natural to me, to imagine that kids are grown like sea monkeys. Buy a little sachet of child powder from K-Mart, pop it in an aquariam, sprinkle some water on it and voila, sea children. No tubes required.

I wont get in to the pain of child birth, I haven't experienced it and probably never will (although who knows where science will take us) but I can appreciate that it probably hurts quite a fucking bit. And thank you mothers, but there's no need to explain what happens to your "control" in the weeks or months afterwards during polite dinner conversation.


Aren't your kids wonderful

It seems assumed by parents the globe over, that just because you have created a life that is now three years old and has the energy output of a small nuclear reactor, everyone else will think it wonderful too. Look at little Tarquin running up and down the aisles of the aeroplane, making car sounds as he goes, crashing in to your legs and dribbling on your shoes. How delightful, how clever. Fuck off! I can run up and down aisles too if I want, but I choose not to because it's annoying to everyone else.
I hate watching beaming parents, adoringly encouraging their offspring to be bloody nuisances and assuming that everyone else will be equally impressed and delighted. Well we're not! We want to watch the latest Dan Brown movie adaptation and drink our free alcohol in peace thank you.
Then, finally, after 300 circuits of the forward section of the plane, Tarquin geso back to mummy and cries for the next three hours. How wonderful.


Miniature Army

There are too many people in the world, we all know this, and yet the population keeps growing and growing. So why not adopt? But don't be silly about it, you don't want to be adopting somebody that isn't potty trained yet, or hasn't had all their jabs. Why not adopt a 28 year old qualified neuro-surgeon? You could be so proud when you talk about your little Alex at dinner parties. "Oh yes, my Alex saved a young girl the other day in a fifteen hour operation" that's something to gush about!

But why stop there? Why not adopt a whole gang of successful doctors? You'd be rich! Failing that, adopt thirty youths and train them as pick pockets, doing your bidding while you sit at home eating crisps and drinking beer. A bit like a modern day Fagin. Beautiful.