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15th December 2009

Why didn't I think of this before?

As always, this is a cross post from here. This blog's days are numbered.



I've just placed a stocking-up order for Electrofag juice. I prefer the 'high' strength (18 mg). I suspect the 'super' (36 mg) is mainly for the dedicated Capstan smoker. 18 mg works for me.

However, whether you buy low, medium, high, super or zero nicotine bottles, the price is the same. So you can cut Electrofag running costs in half by buying the super strength along with a bottle of propylene glycol and diluting it.

Here's the latest order:

10ML Totally Wicked Electric Cigarette E-Liquid 36mg-Super High Cigar flavour £5.59
30ML Totally Wicked Electronic Cigarette E-Liquid 36mg-Super High Virginia flavour £16.09
Propylene Glycol. Pharmacopoeia-Grade 50ml £2.79

Postage and package (UK) £1.99 Total: £26.46

I couldn't add it to yesterday's order because that's already been despatched. On normal form, that order would be here tomorrow but the Christmas post could delay it.

In effect, I'll have 80 ml of smoky juice for a touch over the price of 40 ml and that's an awful lot of juice! You can get little bottles to do your own mixing at £1.18 for a pack of five. Since I own a lab, I have no shortage of all manner of little bottles anyway. I will, naturally, sterilise them first.

The flavour might be reduced. I don't know if that will be problematic with a 1:1 dilution but if it is, all I need do is buy some bottles of flavour and add a few drops. If you prefer medium or low strength, diluting to that extent might well mean you'd need to add a few drops of extra flavour but flavourings are £2.79 for 10 ml and you really don't want to add more than a few drops. It's seriously concentrated. One bottle will last a long time.

Note: These are the current sale prices, 30% reduced on normal. The sale ends at midnight on Dec 17th. Even then, it's not too expensive.

That amount of juice will last months. It'll need to, because I will now smoke Electrofag in preference to any tobacco that has 'UK duty paid' on it. I'm now determined never to buy a legal pack again and there might be times when supply is limited. During those times I will make extensive use of Electrofag.

Not one penny more, Chancellor. Not one. I will never buy legal tobacco until the whole of the ridiculous circus has stopped and I can smoke indoors without being criminalised again. Crank up that duty as far as you want. I'm not paying it.

I also plan to make a hell of a mess of your next census form, matey. I will lie to any pollster I meet with outrageous confidence, no matter what the subject. I will promise each and every canvasser that I will vote for them. No council official will ever get the same answer twice from me. I will put all bottles in the clear glass bin and all tins in the plastic bin. I know that when a car showroom takes a trade-in that's junk, they have to pay to scrap it and with a little persuasion, they'll sell it to me for £1 instead. I'll plonk it on the driveway, sell the engine and wheels and any other re-useable parts and fill out a SORN notice every year and that will continue when there's nothing left but rust. By the time you come to check I'll have a dozen or more SORN notices going in every year and there won't be a whole car to be found. I didn't notify scrapping because I didn't scrap them. The rusty shells will still be here.

Set up anonymous lines for snitches and I will phone them with a new random name and address every day. Every spanner I can drop in the works, I will do so. Why not? I'm a low-life. You Righteous have made me so, and charged me handsomely for it. Might as well enjoy myself.

Most of all, I intend to fill a few of the Electrofag tips with flavoured propylene glycol, no nicotine. I will encourage non-smokers to give it a go. It's not smoking, it's puffing on flavoured steam and you never know, it might catch on. They might even take up the real thing. You never know. Evil? I've already been branded so. Might as well live up to it.

No nicotine, Righteous. Nothing at all for you to blame. The only components are common food additives and a battery. Nothing you can legitimately charge duty on, Chancellor. Imagine what happens when you arrest someone for not smoking but for simply looking as if they are.

Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.
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The plastic plod to be proud of.

Anyone remember all those stories of pseudoplods who wouldn't get in the water to help a drowning child, or who were intimidated by a photographer because he was too tall, or all those who have thrown up a daily story for the 'loony' section of every paper for many, many months? Can't really miss them, can you?

Well, here's a light in the darkness that normally fills a pseudoplod's mind. This one confronted a criminal on his own and chased said criminal over fields and woodland for three miles, while guiding police to his whereabouts. He took a risk. The criminal could have had an ambush waiting, or might have become tired of running and pulled a knife. Nonetheless, he caught the bugger.

This particular PCSO has put many real police officers to shame. We could do with some like him on the beat, with a real uniform on.

If only more had his attitude. Then the title 'PCSO' might not be quite such a joke.
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Scales of offence.

Cross posted at the new place. This one is closing soon.


I first came across this tale of despair and misery at Mummylonglegs' place. Dick Puddlecote found it too. The trauma! The horror! The shock and disgust! Tesco sold a card that made a little jibe at ginger-haired people and some hideous bint's children now have to undergo counselling. Tesco must be shut down and all the staff nailed to the front of the shop until they have suffered enough. Which will be never, because the Cheeldren have never been so insulted since the last time it looked likely to get someone in the papers.

All because of a Christmas card and looking at the picture of it, not a particularly good one. Personally I always buy a box of the 'cute' cards and add my own subtitles inside. My favourite was of a badger in a chair, reading a book to a bunch of baby animals, none of which were badgers. Inside, I added 'Mr. Badger thought that maybe, this Christmas, he'd tell the kids they were adopted'.

Contrast this with the reaction of a 15-year-old who was mostly-blinded by an IRA bomb. He met the Queen and Prince Philip while wearing the somewhat bold tie of his Army Cadet group. The Queen asked how much he could still see.

"Not much, judging by that tie," said old Phil.

Compared to a Christmas card insulting gingers, I'd say that was a far more terrible thing. How did the 15-year-old react? Did he demand an apology and compo? No. He did no such thing.

He...got his own back later that year when he took part in an ex-serviceman's march along The Mall for the Queen's golden jubilee celebrations.

As he passed the royal box at Buckingham Palace he flashed a giant Union Jack tie at the watching prince.

Mrs Menary said: 'Stephen said, "If he thought that other tie was bad, then this one's even worse".'

This didn't even make the papers until seven years later when the mother was on TV for some other reason. It comes to something when a 15-year-old, who could so easily have been upset by a jibe at his injury, reacts with far more maturity and humour than a mother of three who simply saw a card in Tesco.

Phil the Greek also had a joke about a comedian's artificial foot. The comedian found it funny (he wouldn't be much of a comedian if he was too sensitive, I suppose) and laughed it off. No offence taken.

Okay, the woman was offended by the Christmas card. I'm offended by racks and racks of mindless magazines in every supermarket and newsagent in the land. Do I demand they all be taken down so I can get my copies of New Scientist, Viz and Stoat Stapler's Monthly without having to trawl through all those menstrually hysterical glossies? No. I just don't buy them. That is the sensible reaction to something that's on sale that you don't want and don't like. Leave it on the shelves. Ignore it. It's not going to follow you out of the shop. Just leave it there and move on.

If you buy the thing that offends you, the store's stock computer goes 'Oh, I sold one. Better order another' and then more of the offending thing appear. It's not a solution. Neither is running to the complaints department shrieking 'Look! Look! Look at the offensive thing! It must be destroyed and you with it!' It does not make you look like a caring parent. It makes you look like a Bedlam inmate on a day trip.

There are far more worrying things in the world than being called names. If a bit of name-calling is enough to reduce you to a gibbering wreck in need of comfort and counselling, then you are a chimp-brained saggy-faced halfwit with the social graces of a slug and all the visual appeal of a hellbender (yes, it's a real thing, also known as a 'snot otter').

If people who have been blinded by IRA bombs can survive a jibe and respond in kind, at fifteen years old, what the hell are alleged adults doing getting upset about a remark concerning their hair colour? If it's that big a deal, buy hair dye. If you like the colour, tell your detractors to get stuffed or better yet, learn to use words of your own and retaliate in kind. It's fun. Try it.

Most of all, try growing up. It isn't as bad as it sounds.


(It seems I'm not the only one playing the 'compare and contrast' game today.)
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