This anti-Beijing Olympics story made me grin, and wonder, how on earth did the Chinese manage to arrest 5 Americans at 17000 feet in a place outside of China?

Everest has relocated?

I thought perhaps with times a-changing and global warming, Everest had melted into Tibet, but wherever you look, the base camp of the mighty mountain still resides in Nepal.

Superhuman Chinese guides?

Is it possible that the Americans climbed Everest from the Tibet side? This explains why they would have been under the jurisdiction of Tibetan/Chinese guides whilst in Nepal. But to be arrested at what everyone refers to as Everest basecamp, the American climbers would have had to climb Everest, descend from the summit into Nepal where the Chinese guides then arrested them and presumably carried their exhausted asses back over Everest and down into Tibet? I don't think so.

Is this story a crock of anti-Chinese wang poo?

If anyone can explain the full story, please let me know. I don't get the logistics of it at all, and for once, I find this atrocity leveled at the Chinese authorities to be a little overblown.

Hey Beijing, any chance of lifting the ban on The Pisstakers for this hopeless moment of pro-Chinese propaganda? I will send you some gummi bears, loads of red ones.



Update: Apparently, as a result of the slight confusion over the location of the arrests, the Digital Journal story itself may be developing into an international incident in its own right. It may require a delicately worded press release from Beijing to nip it in the bud!

Updated update: Driven to research a story beyond the end of my nose, the Reuters people say the Americans were in fact encamped on the Tibet side of the mountain. That blows my image of 5 blokes strapped to the backs of yak or sherpas en route to Beijing via the 29000 foot summit. Oh well.

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Tags: Olympics, Everest, Tibet

It is official, I am in the money and the UN Secretary general, no less is on the case. This may be yet another last post if it goes through.

UNITED NATIONS (WORLD BANK ASSISTED PROGRAMME)
DIRECTORATE OF INTERNATIONAL PAYMENT AND TRANSFERS.
870 UNITED NATIONS PLAZA 20-A NEW YORK NY 10017
WIRE TRANSFER/AUDIT UNIT

All I need do is adopt my Nigerian 419 scammer's son and thirteen sisters, post all my life savings to Geneva and renounce satan. That is a tall order, but for the sake of 8 million dollars, I will even kick beelzebub into touch in a UN second.

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Whereas it takes me dozens of words to explain just how wet and windy it has been in the NE of the USA, a more eloquent and efficient blogger than most of us scribbles a couple of words, plonks them down at strategic points on a timeline, and then heads off to the bar for a celebration drink.

There was probably more to it than that, but the simplicity of Where It Stands is genius.

The weathermen are geniuses

I would far rather some old frumpy farmer scratched his warts and told me his opinion, than listen to some overpaid wannabe weather sexpot person with a blue screen and bluey white smile. I cannot stand it when they insinuate that they know what is going to happen over the coming few days. They are charlatans.

Hurricane "Right Charlies"

When the one and only hurricane of note in UK history took out the south of England, the weatherman that night cracked a little joke and made himself look a right charlie to the nation (idiot to you and me!) He was last heard assuring Mrs Smith from Dover that she needn't worry about hurricanes, because the storm was probably going to fizzle out in the English channel and at worst would froth up a few waves.

I was sent over a newspaper cutting and had a giggle at the pictures of a town called Sevenoaks. It had been called that for centuries, for a reason, but not after the eye of the storm ripped out all but 2 of their famous trees and deposited them somewhere in London! (I exaggerate, but you get the idea.)

So, let's hear it for Where It Stands and long may he continue to sum up the world's events in a few quick strokes of the pen with the minimum amount of technology possible.

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I was blown away to find that Poland has been following the MyBlogLog Sunday "phenomenon". I am afraid I didn't understand a word, except Gumisiów - gummi bears.

The Pisstakers wymyślił Niedzielę MBL. W ostatni dzień tygodnia spisuje się dane ostatnich 10 użytkowników MBL, którzy odwiedzili stronę. Potem Ed (twórca TP) odwiedza każdy z nich i opisuje w krótki i zabawny sposób. Funt gumisiów wygrywa ten blog, który przez cały tydzień wygeneruje najwięcej odwołań do TP.

stokrotne) dzięki (Thanks) Adama, do widzenia (goodbye) Till Sunday.

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I knew it, I actually wrote to my siblings yesterday, complaining that the great British choccy creme easter egg from Cadbury has gotten smaller. I couldn't believe that my hands had grown by a factor of 3 since puberty, and as a bit of a chocolate expert / addict, I had this feeling in my blood that the cocoa hit from my 4 eggs wasn't what it should have been.

Anyway, the conspiracy is official, they are getting smaller, Conan's guest says so!

According to BJ Novak, a leading egg expert, Cadbury even laugh at their customers, offering solace with "The eggs aren't smaller, you have got bigger!" Whatever! That guy has been the size of a mal-nourished malteser for years.

Cadburys shame their past!

These creamy chocolate fondant-filled eggs are part of my heritage and so I am a bit peed off, pissed even, that the standards have plummeted so low. They were so popular and so big! By they, I mean Cadbury, the company that makes them. Now they are risking losing credibility.

I had a look at their website and their press releases are a bit thin on the ground. They need to update them, as I am sure that not all the Cadbury Egg stories currently doing the rounds are painting a very good picture.

Cadbury online gooeyness

To be fair to Cadbury as master marketers, their website as a whole is pretty neat, loaded with graphical adventures in candy land. I am not sure if it has a title, but one episode should be called the Great Eggscape. A foiled creme egg burrows its way underground. Probably based on the management attitude - burying their heads in the sand in the face of mounting pressures from the accountants and stock holders to squeeze more profits out of their delightful chocolate eggs.

Egg memories

On a personal note, cause that is what blogging is all about: years ago, there was an advert on TV where this pimply swat with round glasses walks into a sweet shop and asks for 47(?) Cadbury's creme eggs, please. It was hysterical, as he walks out the store with his arms full to bursting with Easter tidings. Do that now, and he would be able to fit them into his pockets.

The funniest thing though, was when my brother spent his first pay check on eggs for everyone. He literally had buckets of them all round the house. I swear he should have been on a commission plan with a dentist, with all the work he drummed up. And when you don't get all the foil off, boy, that gets your fillings!

Got anything to add? Be my guest.

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County Down is in the news again on The Pisstakers, this time with the discovery of a grenade. More disturbing than the potential danger to local tourists, is the explanation gabbled out by the local councillor. Imagine the Irish tinker gangster played by Brad Pitt in Snatch.

As I understand it someone discovered it just about four o'clock and it's possible with the wrecks that's been over there for a number of years that this just happened to come along.

In the words of the perplexed London gangsters listening to the brilliant dialog from Pitt, "What the fucking hell did he say?" It just happened to come along? What, it decided it was time for a walk? Just jumped out the box of grenades and rolled along the beach to see if it could blow some legs off.

I think they had better pick a better spokesman next time, ie, someone who can allay all fears rather than raise serious doubts about mobile man-hunting grenades.

There is a town in Austria called Fucking. It raises some interesting questions! (And hey, don't shoot the messenger!)

Are the residents called Fuckers?

What are the mothers called?

What would you be learning at the Fucking High School?

Does the Fucking Hospital help you with anything else?

If your friend came from another town, he wouldn't be your Fucking friend

NOW YOU CAN FORWARD THIS TO ALL YOUR FRIENDS WHO KNOW NOTHING ABOUT FUCKING

This was also covered in The register

What's in a name

And while we are at it, don't you feel sorry for soccer commentators having to mention this German guy on the field of play?

So how good are you at captions? Check out the full horrific picture of Hillary Clinton in a less-than-flattering pose and give it your twist.

Are you having trouble opening a bank account?


Are you getting the rubber glove treatment every time you fly out of the country?

Does the phone ring at unexpected times and you get talked to in Arabic till the caller hangs up, realizing you haven't got a clue what they are talking about?

Have you ever tried to rent a room and been refused for no apparent reason? And the list goes on.

Have you gone for flying lessons and the instructor looked at you funny before teaching you to land before you could even take off?

Ever sold a hot dog and ended up in jail even though your hygiene standards are so high they would make MacDonalds seem like a toilet that backed up in 1984 and hasn't been rodded since?

Did a friend at the treasury advise you not to cut Mel Gibson's hair, unless you wanted to risk interrogation and incarceration and a huge fine?

If you answered yes to any of the above scenarios, your name or your customer's name is probably Abdul, Diaz, Lopez, Lucas, Gibson, or Patricia!!

Thanks to Abandon All fear for the link to an original and serious article which I somewhat satirised!