Jolly.

Home from a late Smoky-Drinky in a mood so good not even the Daily Mail can break it. If I've left a comment on your site that makes no sense, blame the booze. It wisnae me, as the modern mantra goes. Someone is to blame and it's usually Nick Clegg.

Pavlov's Cat found an idiot commenter on the Mail but that's not difficult. The one he found is even dimmer than an eco-bulb and worth a laugh. 

I found a funny one on a story about the Romans abandoning Britain because they foresaw Deborah Arnott or something, and of course the spectre of climate change raises its head because the effects of tungsten light bulbs and SUVs are retrospective.

Earlier this year, scientists revealed how climate change could have been responsible for bringing down the Roman Empire*****I thought Caesar had taxed 4x4 chariots and encouraged donkey carts by using tax incentives, taxed all dung and peat powered energy, forced citizens to replace 100 candle oil lamps with smaller less efficient wicks, limited using hot springs to off peak times and made everyone follow the words of the dubious wealthy soothsayer Allus Gorus (who also just happened to sell dung and peat credits) as written in his famous parchment Inconveniens Veritas or go to the or face the gladiators. It is suspected that all this was really just in aid of parting citizens from their hard earned sestertius. We are constantly being told the science is settled and climate change did not exist before the 20th century plus, it is always ACC never a natural occurrence but, no doubt the ACC zealots including zedeadhed will have some answer however implausible.

- Chris, London, 5/11/2011 16:07

He's probably right.

For more mirth, print out Microdave's find of an omelette recipe from Gordon Ramsay and leave it in a cafe somewhere.

One last jolly - Cameron's bathroom is a matter of national importance according to Tom Watson. Not that he's trying to deflect attention from his new Eraserhead look or anything, but questions are being asked over the refit of Downing Street when the new waster took over from the last one. 

It was bound to be expensive. Prising Nokias out of walls is a specialist job and replacing the bathroom... well I would have. I'd have had it sealed up and a new one installed elsewhere, in fact. Imagine placing your bare arse where... no, I really don't want to go to sleep with that image.

And so, in the spirit of rather a lot of spirit, I take my leave until the sun sets once more over the newly frostbitten earth. Go out in the sunlight? That stuff gives you cancer. 

Now it's time for sleep, hopefully including some bizarre dream I can turn into a story.