Apocalypse Sow

Oh my god. We are all going to die and there's nothing we can do about it. The cloven paw of Satan is leaving it's mark all over our doomed planet, from the arid deserts of Mexico to the crumbling ruins of our Western cities. Silence outside, punctured only by the lone siren screaming in the distance, carrying another of the plague victims to an early grave. A global Uniflu initiative fails. We are told not to panic but it is too late, too late for any of us. The virus spreads like warm margarine over the toast we call the Earth. Soon our globe is nought but a shattered dystopia, run by the few surviving mutants who have been chemically altered beyond recognition by this unstoppable virus. Zombie pigs roam wild through the deserted cityscapes, preying on whatever life that can be found. Then nothingness. Silence reigns. THE END.

We're not going to die, of course. But this swine flu idiocy has mushroomed way beyond anyone's control. You might say, huhuhuh, that, huhuhuh, the media have made a right PIG'S EAR of the coverage. Ah, I can't get away from the bloody nonsense. I will say that it is slightly scarier than SARS. I think that killed one man and his dog. Bloody newspapers. To paraphrase Hunter S Thompson, we shouldn't take any guff from those swine.

Leinster 25-6 Munster. The bandwagon is beginning to wobble.

I feel jaded and tired after bank holiday festivities. Mushy brained and woolly headed. Sayonara young blogees. KEEP AWAY FROM MEXICANS.



It is sad that a T Mobile advert fills me with such hope for humanity. Crafty advertising execs. They've got me!