The Advice Spot

A visitor from Buena Park got here by googling "discouraging dog attacks on vacuum". I aoplogise that this site may have been found wanting for the lady or gentleman, and I as a good host, feel compelled to apologise for my neglect in tackling this subject when Google appears to lead here. I am, therefore, putting the matter right and will, in future, respond to Google searches.

This is how you stop a dog from attacking a vacuum cleaner when you're using it (they rarely attack it when you aren't):

Stick the little bastard outside while you do it. Or if that's not an option, stick them in the kitchen, or bathroom for the duration. Basically, don't let the dog be where you're hoovering.

Someone from Tacoma is in trouble

By the way, I've finally got Woopra working on my PC: I am slightly disturbed to find that someone from Tacoma, Washington reached this blog by googling "How to attack someone".

My advice to the googler in question is this: don't. Why would you want to anyway?

And to any other residents of the "City of Destiny", if you have any enemies, you might want to be vigilant this weekend.

In Which I Declare War on Total Guitar Magazine

This gem was voted the fifth worst cover version of all time. Personally, I feel it's better than the original, and I suspect that the only reason the aforementioned magazine's readers gave it this status is that it doesn't involve some faux-punk or Beatles wannabe performing his impression of cats being trapped under a jackhammer. Their judgement is further discredited by their decision to put Muse's butchery of Nina Simone's Feeling Good in the list of Best Covers. I therefore condemn the readers of this bogpaper-disguised-as-a-magazine as moronic, po-faced musical troglodytes, and am proud to share with you, my enlightened readers, the musical heaven that is Wonderwall, as performed by The Mike Flowers Pops:

L'Écosse: douze points?

We can but hope: via ASwaS, we learn that there would be no impediment to Scotland entering the Eurovision Song Contest according to the European Broadcasting Union, who run the thing.

As a devotee of the event, I am thrilled, and if ASwaS fancies writing a song for me, I might just throw my hat into the ring to be an entrant, if one of Scotland's broadcasters fancies giving ESC a go.

And why not? Anything we produce would be infinitely better than the last time someone speculated on what a possible Scottish entry would look and sound like:

A Guilty Pleasure

All right, I admit it, I read the horoscopes - I don't actually follow their advice, but I do read them - and I have two questions for the Sunday Herald editorial team:

1. What happened to Stella?

2. More importantly, did she see it coming?

I can just see the scene now...

Boss: Right, that's it, it's time to send Stella in...
Aide: No need, gaffer, she's already cleared her desk and is having herself escorted off the premises!

May I be the first to wish you all a happy 2009?

Leaving my warped sense of humour aside, I'll tell you that I'll be taking a look at the prospects for this year a little later. I would do it now, but I ate my own weight (which, as some of you will be aware, is quite a lot) in onion rings and overcooked sausage rolls, and I'm paying for that now.

So for now, let me just say happy new year to everyone. Even the greasy little pervert who got here by putting the words 'goldie blair bondage sex' into a search engine. I don't know who you are but, really, that's just sick.

Obligatory Festive Message

In the unlikely event that anyone is actually reading this before the 26th, I'd like to wish everyone who comes this way - including the good people at the Caithness Community Website - my best for the next week. I anticipate still being at my machine during the fesive period so I'll offer New Year-related pleasantries then.

I must confess that I myself feel uneasy. There is something in the air, I feel, and it's not something good. I get the feeling that tomorrow, and the next few days, will not be as pleasant as perhaps they should. I don't know why, either. I just sense that something is off (and it's not the turkey) and I may find myself pouring out what remains of my blackened, shriveled heart on here at some point. In the grand scheme of things, I should consider myself lucky: I have a home, a family, my health (more or less), and there are many others far worse off than me. Despite that, I cannot shake the worry that this is going to be an ugly, ugly week. Hopefully it's just a false alarm.

And now I've just depressed the lot of you. Oops.

Anyway, have a good one, I'll be popping up if and when things happen. See you soon!