Data Mining Game

It's official.

I'm no longer an ABC1.

According to the Office of National Statistics, my shopping basket is no longer representative of the average consumer.

I should've seen this coming when I started growing my own veg, and I opted for a payg phone, with incoming calls only.

As an ex-vegetarian, I was surprised to see pork shoulder joints removed from the list.

My local Tesco devotes at least 30sq feet to freshly slaughtered pig, but only a tenth of that space to 'veggie-hippy-stuff'. Cigarettes have also been taken out of the average representative shop, despite my local Tesco devoting twice as much space to these (per unit) as for dead porkers.

I can only assume the normal UK shopper is eating too much chicken, and has been forced to give up the weed by do-gooding campaigners & politicians who don't like Ken Clarke?

With sparkling wine now included, along with dating agency fees & apps(?), the average British consumer could be seen as a Bridget Jones type, desperate for the right fella, and in denial of her social-alcoholism, capable only of cooking oven-ready meals.

The problem here, is the removal of the fleece.

Why was the fleece in the shopping basket in the first place?

Did a shameful piece of mass-produced clothing, suitable only for festival camp fires, and slouching about with a pyjama'd partner, really represent the typical UK shopper over the past few years?

Is it any wonder dating agency fees are on the increase?

TOP 3 NON-PREMIERSHIP ADVERTISING HOARDINGS w/e 14-03-11

IAN WRIGHT - Hartlepool Utd.

mc CARPETS - Wycombe Wanderers.

GRAHAM TRESSIDER. NANTWICH FUNERAL SERVICES - Crewe Alexandra.

BRING BACK MARY WHITEHOUSE (Embarrassing Bodies)

I'm not being funny, but do we really need to see a bent erection, only 45 minutes after the watershed?

I'm as happy as the next man, that this man, from Great Yarmouth man,

can now show his penis with pride on Channel 4;

but was there really a need for us to witness his own pride, when the general consensus seems to be "no wood on telly"?

And why perpetuate the myth that symmetrical breasts are somehow 'best'?

Shocking.

I say bring back Mary Whitehouse.

Coming Off Meds (Week 5)

My toes are splitting. My toes & toe-nails are splitting and bleeding. My joints are so swollen, they don't fit my skin. And Norwich are being held at Leicester. It's not been one of my best weeks.

TOP 3 NON-PREMIERSHIP ADVERTISING HOARDINGS w/e 06-03-11

PYRAMID HYGIENE - Cardiff City

TOOLTASTIC - Port Vale

MANNERS PIMBLETT - Stockport County

Coming Off Meds (Week 4)

For those of you not up-to-date (and it's sometimes a little hard to reach all 24 of you), I've been coming off my long term medication, since the start of the year. The intention is to have med-free sperm available for mid-May, thus enabling myself & Crocodile Snooze to start planning a family.

I've been on a drug called methotrexate for twenty years now.

It's a frighteningly powerful immuno-suppressant drug, often used in recovering cancer patients, and effective in combatting the anti-bodies responsible for associated rheumatoid arthropathies.

This is Week 4 without any methotrexate at all.

I can't begin to tell you how painful this all is.

The thought of continuing to decline in health, at this very rapid rate, for the next 11 weeks, is more depressing than following myself on Twitter.

I have a window of opportunity every day, where my distalgesia collides with my anti-inflammatories, in which I have to decide upon a physical task to complete, avoiding anything sharper than paper, and everything that could traumatise my extremities.

Stairs, shoes, hard-floors, firewood, tin cans, tables, jars and child-proof lids are all becoming inaccessible or potentially dangerous.

My half-hour bath is now a ten minute job, leaving me twenty minutes to get in & out.

I know every character in The Archers inside-out (and I still detest Pip).

And I've even started reading a book.

This is Week 4.

By Week 15, I will have clean & healthy sperm.

Not only med-free, but booze & nicotine free as well.

Crocodile Snooze can then think about giving up the Marvelon & Pinot Grigio at a time suitable to her career and social life, but in 11 weeks time I will have almost done my bit.

All I have to do is get myself from Beccles to King's Hospital in London, part with £400, and wank into a jam jar.

Piece of piss.

A First Date Rule (for Susie Orbach)

Please don't shave off
your pubic hair for me
as it's a little disconcerting
to a man who's 43.