There was a very interesting programme on TV last night which suggested that Homo Sapiens was not responsible for the demise of the Neanderthals, but had, to some degree, interbred with them.

There was lots of scientific stuff about D and A testing of bones using machines that probably cost millions, and people far brighter than me discussed the resulting evidence at length.

I could have saved them all that time and money by taking them to my local pub, where on any night of the week the knuckle dragging descendants of those who took part in that Paleolithic rumpy-pumpy can be seen chewing ribs while their surly young offspring’s eyes watch you from beneath their prominent brows.

I can’t imagine wanting to mate with a smelly cavewoman (Well maybe ?), but I suppose that if you were a prehistoric man who had schlepped all the way from Africa to the middle of Europe a local hairy Mary may have had some appeal.

Ist Homo Sapiens … “I hear that there are Neanderthal women in the next valley”.

2nd Homo Sapiens … “Let’s go then !”.

1st Homo Sapiens … “Why are you running ?”

2nd Homo Sapiens … “I want to get there before the rest of our tribe”.

1st Homo Sapiens … “Why ?”

2nd Homo Sapiens … “Well you don’t want to get an ugly one …

                                   …  do you ?   😕

The car park at my local Sainsbury’s was unusually full the other morning… “Must be holiday makers” … I said to myself and thought no more of it, as I pushed my trolley (cart) from aisle to aisle.

“This is a colleague announcement” .. boomed the public address system .. “Will all till trained staff report to the checkouts”.

I took no notice as I was preoccupied with calculating how long it would take me to consume all those ‘3 for 2’ and ‘buy one get one free’ offers, and would they all fit into the fridge.

“Would all till trained staff and non-till trained staff report to the checkouts”.

Blimey ! They must be busy … I thought … then a few minutes later …

“Will all staff and managers report to the checkouts”.

By the time I reached those same checkouts it looked a bit like the boat deck on the Titanic with people jostling to be next in line. I squeezed in behind a man who only had one lady in front of him. Unfortunately I didn’t realize that she had four (Yes, Four !) trolleys overflowing with what must have been every special offer in the store.

Suddenly a supervisor appeared and explained that the long delays were being caused by a computer malfunction … and … most of this week’s much advertised price reductions, ‘bogoffs’ and the 5p off a litre of petrol (gas) offer were not registering on the checkout system. She explained that refunds would be given at the customer service desk.

The lady with the ‘shipping order’ turned pale, for she and a small army of packers were about halfway through filling her bags when she suddenly panicked and decided that because of the computer cock-up she wanted a ‘recount’ and was soon surrounded by a group of even more confused staff who had been handing out chocolates and trying to placate irate customers.

Another checkout suddenly opened and I came second in the ‘chariot’ race which ensued, only to be greeted by an apologetic manager who handed me a £2 voucher ($3.75) as an extra discount off my shopping bill. A small ‘result’, but better than a bloody chocolate.

As I left the store I looked at the queue for refunds at the customer service desk and decided against joining it as a bloke in a suit and a badge told me I could claim my refunds on another day.

I know that this is not a very exciting tale, but it did add a bit of ‘colour’ to my day and reminded me of less complicated times when we used to shop at the little grocers around the corner, where the the old brass cash register would ring up £1/2s/3d/¾d, and the nearest thing to a special offer was a brown paper bag full of half price broken biscuits (cookies).

I’ll be off to Sainsbury’s again next week and trust that it will be chaos free … Shit ! .. I just remembered … Next week is the start of …

… the bloody kids’ summer holidays !   😦

Well bugger me, I’ve just walked up the old cyberspace red carpet again to receive yet another well deserved award. This time from my friend and fellow Francophile … ‘Terri’…  What an honour !

So as I wipe away a tear (sniffle !), in the tradition of acceptance speeches, I would like to thank all those who made this possible, including … 
The Fourth Estate (for providing me with so much inspiring crap) …
‘er Maj and her mob (for being the endless source of rant material)… 
The German Luftwaffe (for missing me) …
My local Sainsbury’s, (for having such a fine assortment of loony customers)  …
All politicians (I thank them from the heart of my bottom) …
The Royal Air Force (for all that bloody boring nostalgia) …
The Almighty’ (for providing all those religious nutters for me to castigate, and for not ‘whacking’ me with a lightning bolt)…  and speaking of whacking I ought to include …
My old school (for teaching me to .. rite prop’r English …’Er … like wot I do now).

I just can’t go on as I am getting too emotional, but before I go I must not forget .. ‘She who must be obeyed’ (for unlocking the computer for an hour every other day).

A difficult choice for I tend to read only the best, so will the following please drop to one knee whilst I (in the absence of ‘er Maj) dub thee as ‘Brilliant Webloggers’ …

OK, so Ginnie has already received this award from Terri, but my list would not be complete without her. We oldies more mature bloggers can take all the adulation.

I’m having a few computer problems at the moment, so until I’ve sorted them out here is a picture taken by me during my recent holiday in France …

…It shows a man who is obviously very proud of his organ. 😯  The man’s name can roughly be translated as ‘Big Bob’.

It would have been much more funny if his first name … 

…  had been RICHARD.  😉

So ‘The Screws News of the World’ is being sued by the very rich son of a famous fascist (Here’s Daddy!) who likes having his arse spanked by young women dressed in what have been described as ‘nazi’ style uniforms.

Having been on the wrong end of a cane when at school I have to agree with one witness and say that it’s not exactly ‘my cup of tea’, but if the silly old sod enjoys it … So what ?

There have always been ladies prepared to cater for the more kinky members of our society, and in particular ‘toffs’, clerics, Members of Parliament, and of course, the judiciary, so old Max could be ‘on a winner’ here, for some newspaper reports suggest that he has found  “a sympathetic ear” in judge, Sir David Eady, who has listened “poker-faced” to all the details of bleeding bums and sadomasochistic “fantasy” play.

There is no jury in this trial, so it’s all down to that judge, who sits on the bench dressed in   .. silver buckles, black tights, silk sash, long dress and a saucy little wig  … Blimey! Never mind the nazi uniforms, that’s what …

 …   I call a real “fantasy” outfit.   🙄