We dont even need to explain why.
A man who cant be bothered to do his own laces is a man who needs repudiating.
If ever anyone in slip-on shoes tries to sell you anything, just scarper.

shoe 1 my 2 buckle

Some wabsite called Diggers wrote to lobotoblog.com yesterday asking for questions to Tony Hawk , the famous Swedish ballerina. So here at lobotoblog we have prepared a few:

“So Tony, is your real name Anthony?”

“When did you realise that you wanted to be a ballerina, was this before or after the Swedish civil war?”

“If you weren’ t a Hawk then what you prefer to be : a kestrel or a small field falcon?”

“How many bones - including small stress fractures but excluding ribs - have you broken on the right side of your body?”

“Would you have a lobotomy for 10£million?”  [remember, £ is worth more than $ so its an interesting question...]

“Is it true that you are the secret lovechild of Tony Knowles, the suarve-ladies-man British champion snooker player from the 1980s?”

“Do you say “scones” as in “scoanes” or “scones” as in “sconnes”?”

hallo lladiesh

as in “Pimp my pumps” or “pull by tugboat”…

“You can never - UNDER ANY CICUMSTANCES - overdo the beers”

watch the lens flare

Buying a pair of new white trainers is fab.

But it can also be very dangerous when they are brand new.

They will light up the street at night.  They will make you over-conspicuous. They will scare dogs. They will make your friends not want to walk with you. They will blind by attrition. They will be beacons.

So if you do ever buy a pair of white trainers then make sure that as soon as you put them on you get them dirty. Also, you must make sure that the distance from your abode to the place where you will get them dirty (garden, public park, manure pile, woodland, garage, the local quagmire, etc) is as short as possible, to avoid offending.

don't box em in !

Lobotoblog got into a conversation recently about the difference - as far as a herd of cows is concerned - between a barn and a cattle-shed.

The conclusion that was reached is that cattle-sheds generally tend to be large buildings capable of holding upwards of 100+ cows (if budget of farm permits) while barns tend to be smaller buildings - within the confines of the aforementioned farm’s outbuildings - where the farmer will probably only keep a few miscellaneous animals.

If you tried to put your entire herd of cows in a barn then Brigitte Bardot would be there in a jiffy. Unless, of course, you had a really really big barn.

Gillian Anderson is very pretty
Yes, she is very angular
She’s a keen angler
She’s a keen fisherman
She’s a Kingfisher
Yes, she’s a top bird

QED

image credits : University of Birmingham

Foot down on the throttle on the long uphill straight, you reach the crest of the hill fully admiring the growl of the engine. Spending the extra credits on a muffler was well worth it, this beast has got some muscle. There’s a little kink in the track, no worries, the tires are glued to the tarmac. Flat out now as the track starts to bend to the right, perhaps a little braking might be prudent. Horizon’s coming up quick now, and there’s not much left of the road to eat up. Here we go, spin the wheel hard anti-clockwise, foot’s praying for the brake to kick in, woah, might just have got away with that. Fuck, where’d the road go, have you just driven off a cliff? No… It’s down there?! But your hands can’t spin the wheel back that quick. Uh oh, here comes the fishtail, your arse is flapping all over the place, you’ve completely lost control. Gravity’s finally got its revenge, you tumble down the hill, gravel and grass chopping everywhere. You look behind you, the scream of the passing car pierces your ears, and you hand over the pad to the next plucky challenger.

Suped up beamer

You’ve been there. Walking down a road, not really paying attention to anything in particular. Then you see a Big Fuck-Off BMW parked in the side and you are happy.

All kitted out with a Jesus Christ Almighty Bazooka Exhaust, holy-smokes alloy wheels, and a huge spoiler hanging off the back.  If you are really lucky then you’ve come across a rarity amongst the species with those big fat-buttocked bodyworks (”they’ll be riding today, so look out for those beauties, oh yeah…”). If it’s painted purple then you must take a photo, or pray to the east for your luck.

A quick look inside and you can see that both front seats (black leather, of course) are down to an angle of 130 degrees - just enough to allow the driver (pilot?) to see over the steering wheel. But hey who cares if you cant see the road?

Who drives this beast? It doesn’t matter, it’s beautiful. You don’t actually want to see it run. These beauties are better parked. All you need is to behold it.