Sex On The Underground
What would Mary Whitehouse have thought about these two posters at Angel station?
On the other hand, who’s to know what Mr. and Mrs. Whitehouse got up to in the privacy of their own home.
I’m a bit surprised that the web site sexytimesRus.com is using that URL. Perhaps, they are expecting to be sued, so they get a lot of free publicity.
Fighting Cancer With A Trojan Horse
I like this report on the BBC web site. In brief the new therapy can be described like this.
The team hid cancer killing viruses inside the immune system in order to sneak them into a tumour.
Once inside, tens of thousands of viruses were released to kill the cancerous cells.
It certainly gives hope to cancer sufferers. Obviously, it has to be proven in humans, although as the study showed, it worked well in mice with prostate cancer.
I do think though, that we underestimate the value of the immune system in fighting cancer. Research has shown for instance, that those who eat their five portions of fruit and veg each day, have a better record against cancer, as do coeliacs, who stick to the gluten-free diet.
I also know of two people, one of whom was my son, who perhaps were not too sensible with their habits, who were thought by their respective families to be coeliacs. Both died of aggressive cancers.
I know two cases doesn’t prove a theory, but I do feel that as we learn more about the immune system and treatments such as this Trojan horse method, we will start to win the fight against cancer.
On the other hand, I totally despair as I pass the pub next door and see the smokers up to six deep on the pavement.
David Mellor On Plebgate
There was an interesting non-meeting of minds on Double Take this morning, when David Mellor and a representative of the Police Federation clashed. Perhaps the most interesting part was when Ken Macdonald, a former DPP and probably not a Conservative supporter, was quoted as saying that the Police were the last unreformed public service.
The Police needs to sort itself out and top of the list are these questions of mine.
1. Why do the Police not have to go through annual medicals to see that they are fit for the job?
2. Why are the Police involved in incidents such as shootings, not cross-examined by lawyers for others involved?
3. Why do we have so many ranks? Especially, as various reports have recommended simplification?
4. Why do Police officers always seem to be rushing around in cars, making a lot of noise?
5. Why in Lancashire, when I ask directions of an officer, they inevitably say, they are not from round these parts.
6. Why when any reform is suggested, do the Police always say no?
I could add a lot more, but I don’t want to spend time, assembling the evidence. Or is it making the evidence up?
On the subject of Plebgate, I asked a human rights lawyer, who is not a supporter of any political party, what they thought about the affair. They just shrugged their shoulders and indicated these sort of cases go on all the time.
Is This Sudoku Solvable
The fiendish Sudoku numbered 5373 in the Times on Friday seems insoluble.
I’ve made a couple of copies for next year.
My Worst Sin In C’s Eyes
There are some things, that you do in a marriage that are incredible sins.
My Worst Sin In C’s Eyes
Mine is immortalised on this picture of a pack of tissues from Boots.
Please remove all paper tissues from garments before washing
I only did it a couple of times, but it really buggered the laundry and she never let me forget it.
The Umbrellas Were Giving Up
Even umbrellas were giving up as the picture shows.
The Umbrellas Were Giving Up
The stewards were even allowing long possibly-dangerous ones into Portman Road.
Ipswich Gets A New Porn Shop
As I walked to Portman Road, I saw a store, I’d not seen before.
Ipswich Gets A New Porn Shop
I’ve no idea how good it is, but it certainly looks the place to get some good engineering pornography.
Ipswich used to have a wonderful shop in Martin and Newby, which was opposite my office in Fore Street, in the early days of Artemis. One memory is the van from Royal Volker Stevin arriving each morning during the construction of the Orwell Bridge. Apparently Martin and Newby made a fortune out of that job, as so many expensive tools were dropped into the river. One suggestion was that they use wooden spirit levels, so that they floated, but they found the current in the river took them out to sea.
The Show Must Go On!
This steel band at the Angel had the right idea.
The Show Must Go On!
They didn’t seem to be too worried about rusty instruments.
Avoiding The Rain
I went to the football at Ipswich yesterday and the rain was so bad, I didn’t feel like walking to the bus stop to get a 141 bus to Liverpool Street station.
So I walked to the closest stop and got a 56 bus to the Angel. It wasn’t any better there.
A Very Wet Angel
But at least I got there in the dry and was able to walk into the Underground, to get a train to Liverpool Street with one change at Moorgate station. Normally, I’d have walked from Moorgate, but it was just that wet.
Coming back, the weather was just as bad, so I used an unusual route to keep dry. I took a Metropolitan line train to Barbican station and caught another 56 back to my house.
At least the rain seemed to have abated slightly in Ipswich, but the game wasn’t a good one. There were so many mistakes and I suspect precise control was difficult. So many simple passes were missed by both sides. Perhaps football yesterday was summed up by the result at Peterborough, where the home side beat Bolton by five goals to four.
The Kids Are Alright
I was travelling home on a bus last night at about seven, sitting minding my own business, when a seventeen-year-old or so kid in front, turned to me and asked very politely if he could borrow a pen. As I always carry two for my Sudoku solving, I handed him one.
A couple of minutes later he returned it and moved himself and his bags to the four empty seats next to me. We chatted about the ephemera of life like football and phones, for the rest of my journey home and he politely wished me a good evening.
If this had been an unusual occurrence, it wouldn’t be worth reporting, but it seems that hardly a day goes buy without a similar experience. As an example, I’ve lost count of the number of times, I’ve had a reverse argument with kids, be they black or white, male or female, about who gets on the bus first.
It does seem that the Polite Society is alive and well! Certainly on the buses of East London.
The Anonymous Widower 