Dial M for Vendetta

The futuristic remake of a Classic Hitchcock thriller unfolds in a Great Britain that has become a fascist state. An Elf freedom fighter known as Agent Elrond V Smith (Hugo Weaving) uses terrorist tactics to fight the oppressive society. He rescues a Princess Leia Hammond (Portman) from the evil Empire, and she becomes his unlikely ally as he protects her and the unborn son of Luke Skywalker.

John Hurt reprises his role as Winston Smith from the film 1984, however in an Ironic twist he has now become Chancellor of Neo-Tokyo and is ruling with an Iron Fist that Big Brother himself would have been proud of before he got into the business of trapping a small number of psychotic people in a house and watching them shower.

The dialogue and script is Intense, witty, honest but only 75% patronising, intelligent but only 63.3% pretentious.

This is not only an exceptionally well acted film, a film that is shot not badly, but a film that has some iconographic moments, such when V truly sets Portman character free when he figuratively and literally cuts of her head and the amazing final battle which features the digitally reanimated corpse of Alfred Hitchcock in a knife fight with two Goblins and a Storm Trooper.

Hugo Weaving’s performance is definitely what grabs you from the start. He delivers some of the hardest lines with incredible charisma. The only problem I have is some moments of the film were spoiled by him calling everyone he met Mr Anderson, and then saying Mordor in a strange Scottish-like accent every 6 to 8 seconds.

Not as well known as similar Hitchcock films, this one is no less of a gem. Although the story and handling, particularly the dull-British “Scotland Yard” dialog are definitely from another era, the unfolding plot is sheer Hollywood candy.

Overall I congratulate the makers of this film for visual expansion and interpretation of an interesting, but dated, book.

Jesper Rasmussen Anti-Global F***wit 005

3 minute sketch with Jesper and his amazing Danish accent. This episode he doesnt realise that magic mushrooms are actually drugs and also that sneaking around in teh woods next to a school may give off the wrong impression. Hilarious sketch with the usual point being missed entirely.


Great Sex Tips For Men Part 4

A what to do better sex guide

I found it hard to describe how to have sex (since its a subject that can fill the Kama-Sutra and 1000 other books), so I decided to include these rules that some homeless man told me in exchange for some sweet loving.

Remember, it is about pleasing yourself, not her.

Rules to abide by

Dont worry about Imagination.
Unless it involves hot candle wax and permanent dye, Imagination is a no no.

Slap your stomach against hers
There is no more erotic noise, except maybe belching contest.

Arrange her is poses
Even if she is not a Romanian gymnast she wants to do advanced yoga in bed, be very very ambitious.

Look for the Prostate
Despite what doctors will tell you, Women have a prostate, therefore anal stimulation feels good for them.

Give Love Bites
It is highly erotic to exert some suction on the sides of the neck, most women want to wear turtlenecks and jaunty scarves for weeks on end.

Bark Instuctions
Its a big turn on to shout encouragement like a coach with a megaphone.

Talk Dirty
All women loved to be swore at, it makes them fell special.

Don’t worry if she cums
You don’t have to finish your job, she can finish her own

Squash Her
Men generally weigh more than women, so lie on her heavily and dont get off until she turns blue.

Don’t thank her
Never thank a woman for having sex with you.

The Great Welsh Cockles War

A little known ‘dirty’ war waged between the government authorities, desperately trying to preserve some of Britain’s last natural resources, and the even more desperate illegal immigrants trying to eke out an existence.

Commander James T. Jerk scratched his wooden leg absentmindedly, and swore loudly as a large splinter buried itself deep under the finger nail of his index finger.

” ‘Chippie’ up on the bridge, now,” he screamed into the intercom, “and bring some sandpaper.”

Pulling the splinter out with his teeth, Jerk thought back to that time seven years ago when he lost his right leg, left arm, right ear, left eyeball, right testicle, left kidney, and his wallet with a winning lottery ticket inside, whilst commanding the H.M.S. Sinkfast during the fierce battle for the Nigerian Delta. The remaining two digits on his right hand, one still bleeding, wandered almost instinctively to the well fingered M.B.A. medal (Missing Bits in Action,) that he wore with pride over his collapsed left breast. Shifting uncomfortably on his chair, the absent right buttock made sitting up straight difficult, he spoke to his second in command.

“Bring her about 41 degrees of port and tell me when she has drunk enough to let me in her bed, Number 1, and any sign of the enemy yet?”

First officer Simon Simpleton lowered the binoculars from his exhausted bloodshot eyes. The party last night had been an incredible lesson in over indulgence, and he made a silent pledge never again to mix Red Bull and cheap Vodka 50/50, as he replied to his commanding officer.

“All I see are waves and they doubled. I don’t feel very well and is it alright to go below for a bit of kip, sir?”

Jerk sighed. Simpleton had been the only survivor besides himself when the H.M.S. Sinkfast had spectacularly self exploded after he had made the decision to scuttle the ship rather than let the enemy in 5 dug out canoes enter the delta and sabotage the oil refinery. Simpleton rarely spoke about that moment of truth, when the man had desperately struggled with his conscience to either shoot him and let terrorists destroy Britain’s desperately need fuel for the latest models of four wheel drives, or sacrifice the ship and crew, thus sending a message around the world, (Help, the Captain is mad!,) still clutched in the hundreds of hands that went up with the ship.

“Go ahead, Number One, I’ll keep an eye on things, take King Kong’s bint with you, she also looks worse for wear” Signalling with his good arm to the slumped figure of Jane Noname, rescued along with himself and Simpleton from a malarial infested mangrove swamp where they had landed after the ship blew up, she spoke no English besides, “More Port”, and walked on all fours.

‘Chippie’ turned up from where he had been engrossed in filing his teeth into sharp triangles.
A gruff, but gentle kid, he was intent to prove that his bight could be worse than his bark.

“Give us ya leg Captain, I’ll sand the bugger good this time, got to keep ya on your toes if we gonna catch them sneaky slitzzies.”

Jerk hated ‘Chippie’ talking like this, the uncouth ASBO collector was only 17, but he came along with the new ship now under his command, the H.M.S. Dump, a 22 foot, wood rot riddled pontoon grounded permanently in the middle of the Mawddach estuary in North Wales.

“They are illegal Chinese cockle poachers, ‘Chippie’, and please refrain from such racial inferences, otherwise it is my right to have you keel hauled if we ever get afloat.”

As ‘Chippie’ got to work on the splitting parts of his prosthesis, Jerk mentally went over once more the recent intelligence that had been passed to him in the ‘Last Inn’ pub the night before. According to a reliable source, that he had carefully nurtured for the last seven years with free beers paid out of his disability pension, today the Cockle thieves would sneak up the estuary unnoticed, disguised as tourists in black wet suits on rented Jet Skis, plunder one of Britain’s last cockle beds and sell them duty free to Chinese restaurants in Beijing.

“Not whilst there is breath in my right lung still in me left,” thought Jerk, as he watched ‘Chippie’ create a small pile of sawdust below his extended leg. He had worked on the plan to stop the raiders for over four years and now he was ready. 26 giant bottles of household cooking gas were stored below; connected together they were only stopped from expelling their deadly fumes by the handle mounted on the commander’s chair.

The navy had refused to give him a 22 inch battery gun, quoting local Gwynedd council health and safety regulations, but the hero of the Nigerian Delta had not been put off. That experience seven years ago could be put to good effect.

“There coming,” Jerk whispered conspiratorially to ‘Chippie’, his good ear tuned to the sounds of the approaching roars of the Jet Skis. “Get Jane and Simpleton, prepare the escape dingy, and stand by for action; RED ALERT!” With that, Jerk pulled the bright red lever to ‘Open’ and the gas started to flood into the pontoon. Timing was critical. Unlike the Delta incident, when the spectacular self destruction of H.M.S. Sinkfast had managed to destroy several hundred acres of rain forest, along with 5 dugout canoes and the oil refinery it had been sent to protect, his new command had limited fire power.

As his crew gathered, the hiss of the expelling gas drowned out by the noise of the approaching smugglers, Commander James T. Jerk, took 4 Cuban cigars out his top right breast pocket. Handing them out, he winked, tugged his shirt down, smoothing out the wrinkles and as the stench of gas reached his nostrils said to his motley crew,

“Don’t light them till the fat lady sings huh, we done it ship mates. Britain will once more be safe from terrorists”

‘Chippie’ sniffed appreciatively at the cigar in his hand,

“Didn’t they say that in some movie?” he commented, as he flicked the wheel on his newly stolen Zippo lighter.

The End.


When I was a child I had my tonsils taken out, sadly they botched it leaving a remnant of tonsil which from time to time gets infected and swells up incredibly painfully. About 6 years ago I had particularly nasty episode and I was unable to swallow anything, the pain was excruciating to the point where I was in tears. My wife, a nurse decided I needed to go casualty.

After a couple of hours sitting around spitting into a handkerchief (anyone who has had bad tonsillitis would relate to this) A student doctor saw me and after a few seconds decided that I had a abscess in my throat. I patiently explained that although it may look like a abyss it was in fact a remnant tonsil and I need antibiotics. He looked again and told me that it was defiantly an abscess that required lancing, and that it may sting for a second but once he had extracted the puss the pain would dissipate. With this he produced a 8″ needle. I opened my mouth and he slowly pricked the abyss and pulled out the plunger, but instead of puss, blood came out. “Oh” he said, “you know you may be right, it could be an inflamed tonsil” Of course I only found out what he said later when my wife told me, because at the moment he pricked the tonsil my throat bloomed into blinding white hot agony and I passed out for several minutes. When I awoke the doctor had vanished and a nurse was about to administer antibiotics.

Given the choice I would gladly go through this experience again rather than sit through the bowel rippingly hideous film that BloodRayne is.


Jesper Rasmussen Anti-Global F***wit 004

3 minutes of missing the point in a cafe in Copenhagen.
Jesper Rasmussen gets the wrong end of the stick when it comes to Timberland. What a tosspot. At least he thinks that espresso comes from Italy. hihi..Stupid danish accent.


Great Sex Tips For Men Part 3

A what to do better sex guide

I found it hard to describe how to have sex (since its a subject that can fill the Kama-Sutra and 1000 other books), so I decided to include these rules that some homeless man told me in exchange for some sweet loving.

Remember, it is about pleasing yourself, not her.

Rules to abide by

Cum quickly
If you shoot before you see the whites of her eyes, dont worry about it. She’ll probably fall asleep in a few minutes anyway.

Cum slowly
Humping for an hour without climaxing is the mark of a sex god,

Ask Her if she has cum
This is almost impossible to tell, as most women make no noise. If you really dont know, ask.

Perform Oral sex gently
Act like a tiny kitten at giant a saucer of milk.

Nudge her head down
All women love this, as it is like being dragged to a cave by their hair.

Don’t warn her before you come
When shes performing oral sex, dont warn her before you come, Sperm tastes like seawater mixed with egg white and everybody likes that.

Move during fellatio
Although, shell do some moving during fellatio, dont just lay there, Thrust or grab her head.

Take Etiquette advice from Porn Movies
Women seem to love it when men ejaculate over them in porn movies. This is true in real life too as it means more laundry to do.

Make Her Ride
Lying there grunting while she does all the hard work is great as it makes her feel like the captain of a schooner.

Attempt Anal Sex and Pretend it was an accident
If you want to kick her back door in, dont ask first. Being drunk is a great excuse for going in the wrong way.

Take Pictures
Ask her, Can I take a photo of you? but dont say to show my mates. also never let her have custody of them.

Hansisland 024

– Dan Browns orgasm? Browns Gas? and a car that runs on a Joe Cell!.

– HansIsland gets linked with Bornholm, round churches and the Knights Templar! – Indoor skiing in a country like scotland is like a solar powered sunbed, don’t even get me started on Dubai!

Hello I’m a venture capitalist!” (sound of machine gun fire…) Thanks environmental man

[audio: http://hansisland.mypodcasts.net/audio/hansisland-2006-06-14-66969.mp3 ]

Jesper Rasmussen Anti-Global F***wit 003

This time Jesper Rasmussen gets it wrong by protesting against the canadian invasion of hansisland at the air canada ticket desk. He has to explain to airport security that he doesnt know anyone called allah. What a toss pot. Very funnty sketch with a stupid danish accent….


Warner Brothers Studios Quarantined As Sylvester Snuffs It

Picture of poor Sylvester Since reports this week from Germany, where the first case of a cat dying from the potentially fatal to humans strain of bird flu H5N1, ominous news has come in that the deadly strain has reached American soil.

Panic has broken out at the famed Loony Tunes cartoon studios during a private screening of the latest Tweety Pie episode after the fully completed strip returned from its Asian outsourced sub-contractors based in Hong Kong.

As details slowly emerged, the obviously frightened spokesman for the company, attired in a full biological protective suit, told a reporter.

‘Our own artists only sketch every 20th sequence to a story, the rest are padded out in child artists sweat shops in Asia for 5 cents a page. Obviously they had been sharing a chicken for lunch and contracted the dreaded form of bird flu.’

The studio staff had been enjoying the new Sylvester v Tweety Pie episode and nothing had seemed odd until Sylvester the cat, who constantly attempts to eat the annoying fat headed arrogant canary, swallowed the yellow loud mouth just as it finished its classic line, ‘I tawt I taw a puddy tat’, and went into spasms, and as one viewer put it, ‘started to convulse like an Ebola victim on crack cocaine.’

The horrified audience had expected that Tweety’s assistant, ‘Bulldog’, would grab the hapless cat, swing it around the room by the tail for a few spins, then dash out the black and white screeching pussy’s brains against a table, onto which the cheeky chirpy canary would pop out as usual, saliva drenched but unharmed. However what transpired next has shocked the cartoon world to the bottom of its pencil boxes.

‘Sylvester started to sneeze violently, seconds after ingesting the canary and the walls were strewn with cat snot.  The visibly shaken spokesman went on, ‘then it started convulsing, flew up to the ceiling, at which point the hapless feline’s eyes bulged then exploded.’

Worse was to come,

‘In it’s death throes, Sylvester’s tortured body stiffened, it’s fur stuck out like spikes and tried to defecate the flu riddled bird, resulting in Bulldog being literally ‘tarred and feathered’ by the diarrhoea stream of semi digested Tweety Pie fired out under high pressure.’
The yellow and brown shite dripping dog went barking mad, then in its canine terror savaged the animals’ owner, little old Granny, so badly that the poor dear died before even the fastest artist could rub it out. The utter carnage depicted had many of the 73 viewers collapse in shock as the final seconds of the macabre cartoon ended.

In an effort to control the outbreak all Tweety cartoons have been incinerated and plans are under way to vaccinate Daffy Duck and Road Runner. In a separate incident Terrytoons confirmed that their mischievous magpies, Heckle and Jeckle, after refusing to be inoculated, claiming it was a Taliban plot, were beaten to death at Guantánamo bay, baked, popped in a pie and sent to the King of Saudi Arabia, along with 22 terrorists suspects to make up the numbers.

However, there were still some cool heads at the studios. When asked if he was worried, Bugs Bunny, whilst chomping on a genetically manipulated carrot shaped like a bagel, replied, ‘What’s up Doc? I thought we were banned by Google in China.’


OK, it’s Bullseye, it’s meant to be tacky, but it’s tackier than I could possibly imagine.

They’ve re-recorded the opening sequence music horribly. The opening shot of inside the bus used to be charactures of famous darters. Not any more. It now features a token black guy, and even a woman. And, as we all know, women simply cannot play darts. With the exception of Trina Gulliver.

The music, which was once a jolly little tune, has also been re-recorded using the cheapest techniques and synthesisers available. It’s the musical equivalent of freshly squeezed orange juice, versus 11p Smart Price orangeade.

So, onto the show itself. Horribly dull set. Black and Red dartboard-shaped doors open, and Dave Spikey walks out, mock-gasping at the set. Spikey’s insistence on mentioning the fact that you were watching Bullseye “Bullseye! it’s fucking Bullseye!” got right on my tits.

Introducing the contestants was as dull as ever. At least there’s one good thing that’s came out of shows like “The Weakest Link” – each contestand has 3 seconds to introduce themselves.

So, by now, we’re 4 minutes and 18 seconds into it, and I haven’t stopped complaining. is it going to pick up when the game starts??

The contestants that answer the questions introduced by Spikey as “The Knowers” make their way to the desks, shaped hilariously like dartboards, while the dart players, introduced as “The Throwers” (God, who comes up with these?) sit precariously on shiny stools (f’nar) which look as if they could tip up at any point.

So, the first round gets underway. The category board. They’ve dropped the bullseye prize from £200 to a “whopping, massive, unbelievable £150!!!!” Can it get any worse? Surely, after so many years off the air, they’d have had time to research some decent darts players for the contestants. The first player steps up, throws the dart, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand misses the board entirely. An animated Bully appears from the side of the screen, and sticks his thumb down.

Up steps Contestant 2. A woman. Could I be correct in the previous statement that women simply can’t play darts? Why, yes. She went for faces, hit Spelling. And the question… “Spell ‘Weird’ “. God, that’s a toughie.

Bully appears across the bottom of the screen, flipping a dictionary. Spikey pretends to point at the letters in true Bowen style, and misses them entirely.

So, Player 3. Surely, one of them is going to hit the right subject… No. Went for Words, hit Books.

Two excruciating question rounds later, it’s onto “pounds for points”!! Though, unfortunately, it’s another round that’s fallen victim to horrible music re-recording. In the previous series, there used to be three different tracks used in the background. These are still in existence, as ITV uses part of them on their Flash-based version of Bullseye, so I’m assuming Challenge weren’t given the rights to use these, and had to record their own. Again, crap music, crap darts playing.

The one who managed to miss the board in the first round scored 11. That would have been £11, which only just covers the cost of a chicken curry with rice, a mixed grill and two bags of chips from Four Seasons. But naturally, they got beaten, and someone else got the question right.

Two more rounds of that, and the horrible music later, the two shittest go home with the bendy bullies, tankards and darts. Something new this year too – a DVD game, a board game, and a Bullseye T-Shirt. Cor! XXL for me please!

Against the odds, the woman darts player got through to the final, so I was wrong with that all along. Bah. Throwing for charidee was none other than Phil “The Power” taylor, who got the 301. Apparently. For whatever reason, they cut to the wide-angle shot just as the last dart was going in. This meant that it was impossible to tell whether it went in the 20 or the treble. But, Tony Green said it did. And, I’d believe anything that man said.

So, onto the prize board, and thank fuck we’re nearing the end. Something that got right on my tits at this point was Spikey’s sarcastic assistance that the prizes were “amazing”….

Iiiiiiiiin One. A non-branded Gorge Foreman grill.

Iiiiiiiiin Two. An Atari console thing which you plug into your telly “complete with 20 classic games”.

Iiiiiiiiin Three. What the fuck? It’s a ball that lights up. The audience were beside themselves at this point.

Iiiiiiiiin Four. A desktop fridge. Not bad.

Iiiiiiiiin Five. A “JML Steam Genie”. I say again. What the fuck?

Iiiiiiiiin Six. A DAB radio.

Iiiiiiiiin Seven “It’s the only thing I want to see in the pool that’s yellow!” – some inflatable kids thing

Iiiiiiiiin Eight. An MP3 player.

And Bully’s Special Priiiiiiize: A tent. OK, it’s a *large* tent. But it’s still a tent.

They get three prizes, none of them the tent (awwww). So it’s time for the gamble, Spikey informs them that if they lose, “You’ve had a good day out, but you’re going home wi’ nowt”. They don’t gamble.

Up steps the pair who didn’t finish last, and they risk their pathetic amount of money. Ooooh. Was this a wise choice?

After 5 darts, they had 55 points. Oh no! Were they fucked? Apparently not., A quick treble 20 later, they were dancing up and down awaiting the arrival of their star prize. Ta-da! A telly. You couldn’t hide the disappointment, both on the contestants faces, and on mine. I’d waited 10 years for the resurrection of Bullseye. And what do they give me? A program wetter than a sardines minge.

Will I watch episode 2? Yes, possibly. Though , I feel I might have to bite each of my toes off individually during the adverts to disguise the pain.

Great Sex Tips For Men Part 2

A what to do better sex guide

I found it hard to describe how to have sex (since its a subject that can fill the Kama-Sutra and 1000 other books), so I decided to include these rules that some homeless man told me in exchange for some sweet loving.

Remember, it is about pleasing yourself, not her.

Rules to abide by

Stop for a break
Women, unlike men, can pick up where they left off. So when your jaw gets numb just stop.

Undress her quickly
Unwrap her like a kids toy, not an elegant present. Women know they look great when naked at the waist with a sweater stuck over her head.,.

Give her a wedgie
Pulling the material up between her thighs and yanking it back and forth can be very sexy, Stroking her gently through her panties is not.

Be obsessed with the Vagina
The vagina is where its all at. Don not pay attention to the nonexistant clitoris.

Massage roughly
When attempting to give her a sensual, relaxing massage to get her in the mood. Elbows and knees are okay; hands and fingertips are not.

Undress quickly
Force the issue by stripping before shes made some move toward getting your stuff off, even if its just undoing a couple of buttons.

Leave the pants on
A man in socks and underpants is at his best. Always leave the socks on.

Go Fast
When you get to the penis-in-vagina situation, the best thing you can do is pump away like an industrial power tool – shell soon feel like an assembly line worker made obsolete by your technology.

Go Hard
If you bash your great triangular hipbones into her thigh or stomach, the pleasure is equal to two weeks of horseback riding concentrated into few seconds.

Jesper Rasmussen Anti-Global F***wit 001

Stupid danish protest against Nestle in Switzerland. Sketches about getting a protest completely wrong and missing the point. Danish Protester Jesper Rasmussen gets his facts wrong in this hilarious sketch.


Great Sex Tips For Men Part 1

A what to do better sex guide

I found it hard to describe how to have sex (since its a subject that can fill the Kama-Sutra and 1000 other books), so I decided to include these rules that some homeless man told me in exchange for some sweet loving.

Remember, it is about pleasing yourself, not her.

Rules to abide by

Dont Kiss First
Avoid her lips and dive straight for the erogenous zones as this makes her feel like youre paying by the hour and trying to get your moneys worth by cutting out nonessentials. A proper passionate kiss is not the ultimate form of foreplay.

Blow hard in her ear
Theres no difference between being erotic and blowing as if youre trying to extinguish the candles on your 50th birthday cake.

Don’t Shave
Forget you have a porcupine strapped to your chin, rake it repeatedly across your partners face and thighs. When she turns her head from side to side, its not avoidance, its passion.

Squeeze her breasts
Dont Stroke, caress, and smooth them. Act like a housewife testing a melon for ripeness when they get their hand on a pair.

Bite her nipples
Nipples are not very sensitive. They can stand up to chewing. Dont Lick and suck them gently or Flick your tongue across them as this is no good. Pretending theyre a doggie toy is, clamp down on them like you are to deflate her body via her breasts.

Twiddle her nipples
Stop focusing on the whole breasts, do that thing where you twiddle the nipples between a finger and thumb like youre trying to find a radio station in a hilly area.

Ignore the other parts of her body
A woman is a highway with just three turnoffs: Breastville East and West, and the Midtown Tunnel. The other areas of her body should be ignored, so go bombing straight into downtown Vagina.

Get the Hand Trapped
This may be a result of poor manual dexterity in the underskirt region and can result in tangled fingers and underpants. But its easier that asking her to take the damn things off.

Leave her a little present
Condom disposal is not mans responsibility. We wore it, she can store it.

Attack the Clitoris
Direct pressure is very pleasant, so dont gently rotate your fingers along side of the clitoris.