There has been a bit of a lull in the blog, but for good reason; I was in Islay with Mi Mujer for the whisky and music festival, Feis Ile. I will make a post about it, but in reality it should be several posts. It’s definitely worthy of talking about.

I just feel spurred to make a post to affirm that I am still here because my last post got such great and controversial comments. I am pleased as punch about how many people offered their differing views in the comments. I particularly liked John Bull’s, not so much for intellectual content but for being ballsy and anti-Yanqui. edit: I realise this last sentence can be taken out of the context that I intended it. It was more of a tongue-in-cheek comment on finally getting somebody to call me out on something and not a presumption of John Bull’s motives or intellect.

Seriously, if you don’t like me, please post. It fuels my writing. I already have ideas for posts about how much English sausages suck, the fish and chips here are a disappointment at best and stop and search laws without reasonable cause.

But next, I promise to post about Feis Ile on Islay. I need the weekend to sort it all out.

By the way, my negative comments aren’t directed to the Scots, ’cause they rock.

I love many things about living in London, but occasionally I miss little things such as good American IPAs, sunny weather and Mexican food. Sometimes I miss the bigger things like the bill of rights. Free speech ‘traditions’ be damned. I prefer my rights, such as the First Amendment, to be in writing to prevent just this sort of thing; A teenager is facing prosecution for calling Scientology a ‘cult’.

The act this 15-year-old is accused of violating is the ominously Orwellian named ’Public Order Act’ which prohibits using words that are ‘abusive and insulting’. Calling Scientology a cult is ‘abusive and insulting’? I think it’s more of a case of calling a spade a spade.

Since my last post poked some fun at the cult organisation seeking to separate its followers from their money and family, I will refrain from saying more lest I end up in court. You can, however, visit this handy site named after the alien overlord at the center of Scientology for more information.

update: Apparently I am free to refer to Scientology as a cult again. So, Scientology is a cult, scam and a con. But the London police might be in on it… Aliens everywhere!

Darth Vader received a suspended sentence after attacking two Jedi Masters with a lightsaber after breaching their church’s defenses. In Wales.

Darth Vader, er 27-year-old Arwel Wynne Hughes wearing a black bin bag, attacked two members of the Jedi church in March. He cunningly found the flaw in their perimeter by leaping the hedge and shouting “Jedis! Darth Vader!”.

The two Jedi masters related the harrowing tale in Intergalactic/Wales district court. Master Jonba Hehol -aka 27-year-old Welsh hairdresser Barney Jones - was struck over the head with the lightsaber - aka metal crutch. His cousin and co-founder of the Church of Jediism, Anglesey order, Master Mormi Hehol - or more informally, Michael Jones - was struck in the thigh by the Sith Lord’s weapon leaving a rather dark bruise.

Darth Hughes claims to have no memory of the event due to either a Jedi mind trick or his drinking of a 10-litre box of wine beforehand. Fortunately the two Jedi Masters recorded the whole event on a camcorder they had set up to film themselves having a lightsabre duel.

Master Mormi Hehol, skilled in recognising danger in his dual role as head of sect security and Poundsaver employee, thanked their lucky stars; “If it had actually been Darth Vader with a real lightsaber, things might have been more serious”.

Jonba Hehol put the inter-sectarian violence in context, “We all love the films and what they stand for. Obviously some people are going to laugh about it. But a lot of people do take it seriously.”

Hey, it’s not as weird as Scientology.

Great tits cope well with warming. Insert your own joke here. All of mine will just increase my bizarre search hits.

I’m beginning to think there is something to the whole pagan idea of sacrificing people to appease the gods. While headlines and alarmist reports of studies indicate that virgins are becoming quite scarce here, Labour politicians are quite abundant. Well, that is they were quite abundant until the elections tossed a load of them into the volcano. This clearly pleased Gaia / Huitzilopochtli / L. Ron Hubbard as we now have sunny weather!

It’s a great time to be in London, unless you happen to be one of the aforementioned sacrificial lambs. While everybody else enjoys the wonderful weather—complete with sun!— the Labour party seems to be firmly entrenched in what is shaping up to be the summer of their discontent.

I couldn’t vote in the election due to my Yanqui-ness but it was pretty hard not to follow it in the papers. Ken Livingstone is no longer mayor, a fact that I consider a distinct improvement over him being mayor. During the elections when he would crow about his achievements, he always listed transportation first. I’m not sure if you realised it Ken, but the transportation isn’t all that reliable and is obscenely expensive. He always struck me as somebody who is a terribly earnest acolyte of ‘his’ causes but rather incompetent in creating effectual policies. Combined with his supersized ego, that’s a dangerous combination in a politician.

So now we have the ‘Blonde Buffoon’, Boris! I’m pretty happy about that because: a) he’s far more entertaining and b) he’s not Ken Livingstone. Boris has now banned alcohol on public transport which I support because I always thought it was weird that it was legal to drink on the bus. He’s pissed off at least one transport union with that and since their strike last year, they engender little sympathy from me, so I consider that a good start.

So now I look forward to a brilliantly sunny weekend and one where we will most likely attempt a BBQ with friends. Please, please let this be a sign of a good summer ahead. There aren’t that many Labour pols left.

I really don’t have much to add to this story to make it funnier; though I am curious if he wrote a check for his bail.

FORT WORTH, Texas - Charles Ray Fuller must have been planning one big record company. The 21-year-old North Texas man was arrested last week for trying to cash a $360 billion check, saying he wanted to start a record business. Tellers at the Fort Worth bank were immediately suspicious — perhaps the 10 zeros on a personal check tipped them off.

Fuller, of suburban Crowley, was arrested on a forgery charge. He was released after posting $3,750 bail.

Fuller said his girlfriend’s mother gave him the check to start a record business. But bank employees who contacted the account’s owner said the woman told them she did not give him permission to take or cash the check.

In addition to the forgery count, Fuller was charged with unlawfully carrying a weapon and possessing marijuana. Officers reported finding less than two ounces of marijuana and a .25-caliber handgun and magazine in his pockets.

Well we’re back from four days in Amsterdam and I’ll have to start a detox program for my body. It’s so easy to indulge in so much in that city.

This trip was incredible and a marked difference from my last one. Last time I was there was in January of 2006. My sister and I had great difficulty finding someone to speak English with and were treated to many Dutch phrases that I’m certain were insults. We also saw the seamy underbelly of the city, which in most cases is charming, but in Amsterdam it can be especially seedy.

This trip was different. I’m not certain if it was due to the fact that Amsterdam cracked down on unlicensed coffeeshops and closed a significant portion of the red light district, but the experience was a marked change. Everyone was friendly, the weather beautiful and we were never treated rudely in any interactions. Even the coffeshops seemed cleaner and weren’t full of junkies and techno music. The junkies were bad enough but the techno music was unbearable.

We arrived at about noon on Thursday. After checking in at the hotel, we indulged in the complimentary whisky decanter in our room. Then we headed out in search of a coffeeshop. Our hotel was on a canal, and as soon as we crossed that we found a punk/skateboard shop. I was thrilled.

Next were the coffeshops. We found a couple about two blocks down that became our place of choice. Then we walked about the city; the weather was great and our meanderings and stopping at benches were a nice experience. I don’t remember benches when my sister and I went.

We went to dinner by ourselves rather than with the wedding party as we wanted a bit of time away to ourselves. We went to a restaurant called ‘Knus’ (cozy) and had a great meal. They had a crazy menu, which given Amsterdam makes a weird kind of sense. They had mains like raw ahi tuna lasagna with poppadums and wasabi vegetables. I was so tempted to order it, but I stuck with stuffed chili peppers followed by roquefort croquettes. I clearly felt in a cheesy mood. Mrs. Yanqui had goat cheese on toast followed by red mullet. The desserts were equally amusing as they featured pear and thyme ice with a vodka sauce, but we skipped desserts and just drank our absinthe sours followed by coffees. Absinthe sour, by the way, is not a good drink.