The Cyberdog Jedi look

Camden day-glo clubbing hq Cyberdog, ex of Covent Gdn., has to be one of the foullest places on earth. Just popping your head in for a 10 minute cruise (to gawp) leaves one totally exhausted. That's cos all the staff look like they've been up for three days straight and the relentless, blaring music makes pneumatic drilling sound restrained. I know that makes me sound old but it's effing well true.

I haven't been in for a few years but I do get their horrendous newsletter. I spose it's for the same reason that I occasionally catch myself watching live operations on telly. Anyway, it turns out Cyberdog has re-released its popular all-fleece Jedi coat. Just thought I'd let you all know incase you have £120 burning a whole in your pocket and want to look like a total cock. I'm not sure if you you're allowed to use their webstore unless you have a full face tat of a naked alien robot but give it a whirl here.

A little more stride in the crotch

Click here to listen to an audiotape of President Lyndon Baines Johnson ordering six pairs of lightweight trousers from Dallas, Texas outfitter Haggar. LBJ is clearly smitten with Haggar's workmanship but he has a few personal requests. Basically, he wants to make it clear he HAS BALLS THE SIZE OF GRAPEFRUITS. That's why he repeatedly asks for "a little more stride in the crotch."
I also love the idea that, not so long ago, the President of the USA carried a knife in his pocket at all times.

(Via the excellent A Continuous Lean blog)

Peter's pockets

Living with a drug addict can be a real uphill slog. The temptation is always there for you to reach for the spoon. Just ask Peter Doherty's jacket pockets. At first they disapproved. They left the room when his dodgy mates rocked up at the door with bleary eyes, a can of Stella and that all-familiar up-to-no-good smile.
But, according to the rock star's lawyers, Peter's pockets have buckled. These days he is the one worrying about them - oh the irony!
Sometimes he wakes in the dead of night to find they have sleepwalked to the local smack peddler. Not only is it a major worry for Peter but it's also beginning to land him in more trouble with the law. So hopeless is the pocket's addictions that they have begun to smuggle drugs wherever they (and he) goes.

Photo credit: Getty Images

Snowballing

Being an albino hedgehog is a collosal bummer. For beginners, you're a standout freak, the unlucky one in 10,000. It goes without saying that you get relentlessly teased at school. Young hedgehogs can be so mean.
But the worst bit is that avoiding predators is just that much harder when you positively glow in the dark.
Unsurprisingly, a huge majority of albino hedgehogs get real low. Some do drugs. Some self-harm. But all of them eat way too much.
Take heffalump Snowball. He's an albino hedgehog. And guess what? He's three times the size (1.5 kilograms) of a regular Joe hedgehog. This unfortunate dude is so fat humans have had to intervene on his behalf. He now lives in St Tiggywinkles Wildlife Hospital in Buckinghamshire. He is only allowed to eat diet kitten biscuits and he has to work out all day long at Tiggywinkles' purpuse built hogjog4life gym.

Photo credit: Jeff Moore

"Hey Neytari, it's Toruk on line 1"

Just had a baby? Absolutely no idea what to name the bouncing little bicep of sheer unadulterated fun? Stop fretting over that baby name book (Attn: Chiswick - Archie is so last year) and choose something truly 'original' and brand spanking new. Like 'Neyteri' or 'Toruk'.
I know these Na'Vi names might sound a bit wacky/zany but, rest assured, you never walk alone. That's because the number of babies named after chavatars in box office behemoth "Avatar" is rising by the milli-second. In one generations time the Avataris(z)ation of the world will be 100% complete. By 2025, the president of the U.S. will no longer be black. She'll be blue, have a tail and get round on a loyal, sexy beast.
So, why's "Avatar" caught on in such a big way? Well, for starters the 14-years-in-the-making Fusion 3D (c) technology is so immersive that you can never, ever actually leave the film. Anyone who has been ensnared by the parallel universe that is Cameron's LSD-laced monster movie knows they can no longer bare to exist on Planet Earth (so last year). I, like you, spend every waking moment wishing I was bounding through the phosphorescent Graceland that is Pandora.
Some proper diehards are so blue to exit their local multiplex only to find themsleves plonked back on Planet Earth that they've set up chatroom discussions mulling "Ways to cope with the depression of the dream of Pandora being intangible." Most conclude thus ..."I even contemplated suicide, thinking that if I do it I will be rebirthed in a world similar to Pandora, and that everything will be the same as in Avatar."
NOW DO YOU GET WHY YOU HAVE TO NAME YOUR BABY NEYTARI? SORT IT.

Ritchie saves Haiti

I keep hearing that the airport in Port-au-Prince is hopelessly bottlenecked. It's so crowded that aid planes stuffed to the rafters with essential food and medical supplies are being forced to circle for hours while they wait for a shimmering sixpence of runway to land on.
Now I know why. Spearheaded by Lionel Ritchie and his We Are The World (remake) project, every sleb on the planet is jetting in (from nearbye St Barts) to offer their unbending support for the people of Haiti. All the obvious candidates have their private jets parked up on the prime concrete real estate. Bono's helping out the U.S. marines up in air traffic control. Madonna is out there on the runway strutting her stuff in a (Dior) helmet whilst operating the take-off flags. And the impossibly rugged Sting has even volunteered to help out the baggage handlers. Hunky!
The shitfight for philanthropic spotlight has got so out of hand that even dead popstars are trying to muscle in on the action. According to today's Guardian ...
The late Michael Jackson, one of the song's co-authors, is also expected to be integrated into the project.

12 bottles of bleach

If this hilarious two minute teaser clip released today is anything to go by, Chris 'Brasseye' Morris' 'jihadist comedy' "Four Lions" about wannabe suicide bombers is going to be the film of the year.

Being tubby

Being fat is a real bitch. Just bending down to pick up your family-size crisps makes you sweat like a pig in a wool cape sitting on the equator.
But luckily doctors are all over it like a cheap suit. These days, porkers can get weight-loss surgery like gastric bands which are guaranteed to have clients back on the squash court the next day.
The thing is, according to the Today Programme this morning, only the really morbidly obese get to the front of the queue for surgeries. Therefore, it really pays to pad out if you are already tipping the scales. This is great news for KFC who are selling megabuckets by the shedload (especially on the Uxbridge Road).
However, it's not all good news. The set-up is applying enormous pressure on Weight Watchers clinics. No-one is bothering with the slimline salad dressing anymore. For this reason, the floors at Weight Watchers and other 'slimming' clubs are taking a major hammering. In Sweden they've started to cave in and split.

Tie-less Dave is looking st8 @ you!

Giant posters of electioneering PR twat Cameron's smug mug are everywhere. There he is trying to make you lose your lane discipline at Shepherd's Bush roundabout. But phaps the Tories have strayed a little off message with their latest anti-ties ad. Surely there are more important things - like the state of the NHS, the various wars 'we' are waging and how green his loft insulation is - which need mulling.Dream up your own arresting Tory poster here

Middling little trattoria in Florence

I haven't read anything this funny and bang-on-the-money for donkeys. The Onion has officially still got it. I love the line ...
'And just wait until you meet the owner, Angelo. What a nondescript character! Be sure to tell him I sent you. He will have no idea who I am.'

William Burrough's shoes

For more of William Burroughs' posessions check out this blog.

Hippos hate Africa!

Everyone knows hippos are the grumpiest animals on the nature block. They routinely overturn innocently bobbing boats just for the sheer hell of it. It makes them absolutely roar with deep, toothy laughter. So, why are they so goddamn mean?

Well, it turns out the answer is simple: they loathe living in Africa. But they heart Europe.

This stunning news comes coutesy of Nikica, a Montenegren hippo (yeah, what's wierd about that?) who has ridden the gifthorse of a flood in the Lake Skadar region to swim over her zoo pen fence into the mouth of freedom.

And guess where she's chosen to settle down? Clue: it's not hot, sweaty, sunburny, arid Africa. Nikica has plumped for the local village of Plavnica.

"I just like the Balkans' lifestyle," revealed Nikica, "the pace of life suits me - so chilled - and I love heavy meat dishes washed down with plum brandy."

This breaking news is especially startling given hippos are traditionally veggie.

Copper Bullets

Snowed in? Pack for warmer climes. Like Angola. It is the only place to be this January. That's because the oil-rich little hellhole is hosting the African Nations, by far the best footy competition there is. Forget the World Cup (according to CNN everyone will get AIDS there) and the bling bling Champion's 'Heineken Amstel' League and get yourself down to Luanda, Benguela, Cabinda and Lubango (all real places). Here's five reasons why:

1) Team nicknames. There's loads of good ones - Indomitable Lions (Cameroon), Black Antelopes (Angola), Sparrowhawks (Togo) - but the best has to be the Copper Bullets (below) of Zambia. The pacy Katonga bros, Chris and Felix, lead their attack.

2) Player nicknames. Malian centre-back Adama Coulibaly is also known as 'Police.' That's because he stops all attacks. Move aside Golden Balls (unless you want to get arrested).

3) Style of play; go hard or go home. Not counting kiss-ass Europhiles Ivory Coast and Cameroon and cagey north African bore draw specialists like Tunisia, everyone just goes hell-for-leather. Tactics are mostly 'goalie (often in trackie bums) lump it to big man and now everyone charge!'. Defence is simple: chop your man down hard and then deathstare the ref. Police!

4) The ball. Adidas Wawa-Aba AKA totally tropical masterpiece. Ballack would combust if he ever got near one.

5) Voodoo/black magic. Coaches take a back seat to witch doctors when it comes to the knockout games. Don't believe me then check out what 'Roonian (and Burnley) enforcer Andre Bikey did when he thought an ambo man (!) was trying to spread curses on his team in last tournament's semis.

Rachel Weisz's crazy stalker

These days, no sleb worth their salt is complete without a decent stalker. Even Billie Piper had one. With this in mind Rachel Weisz - you know, the one you last saw in 'The Constant Gardener' - has designated her three-year-old son as her stalker. And he's a sick little puppy for one so young. He tries to get into her house dressed as either a fireman or a cop and is completely and utterly obsessed with her boobs. Time to lock the little freak up or at least slap a restraining order on him.

Scouting for Camel Toads

It's almost impossible for parents who have never done drugs to capture their offspring red-handed. When they find rolled up notes lying on mirrors they just pocket the cash and move on. But just sometimes they get a whiff of no-good - why would Johnny want to take fresh thyme camping? - and they slam the panic button. Immediately, they pen a letter to the impossibly hip Leslie Potter (this chick is so down with the kids she had a N-Nubz ringtone in 2001) ...

Rabbit deathstare (Happy New Years)

New Years Day is great. Everyone walks 'round like they've been decapitated and sewn their own head back on. People are all basically no smarter than babies. They speak really quietly and are in awe of others managing just the simplest of things. For example, I marvelled at some men unloading a big white van. What strength, concentration and determination it must take to lift and move those boxes I wondered. How do they do it? I bet they need a break soon. But New Years Day can turn a bit nasty. I was out and about on a pleasant walk when I met this grumpy looking giant rabbit teddy nestling by the bins. He'd clearly gone one step too far over Christmas and been finally turfed out. That's why he menaces all who pass.