Up the Creek without a wag-bag

I've been away for a while, another adventure in the desert, which is why I've not been posting. This season's XTreeeem sport was Mormon-dodging in Utah. Accompanied by a true Hollywood metrosexual, I bravely went deep into the heart of polygamy-country, fueled only by Abbey-inspired piss-and-vinegar, and no small amount of Scotch and beer smuggled across the border from California. Los Angeles is no mecca for hops fans, but the offerings here surely beat the LDS-sanctioned gnat's piss that the State of Utah amusingly deems 'beer'. I won't be too harsh on the Mormons though, it's too easy and at the end of the day they're just too pleasant. They may be crap drivers and have some unusual beliefs concerning underpants, but unlike most religions they're not trying to tax me or terminate me, for which one has to be grateful.

Good times in Utah - a thrilling mixture of the bizarre and beautiful, warm and cold, pleasure and pain, assholes and angels. It is an awful long drive from Moab to Southern California though, not made more pleasant by the malignant odor. There were two of us in the car, transporting a week's accumulated sweat, fear and woodsmoke, tempered only by a few brief squirts of deodorant. By the time we reached Vegas, it smelled like a French cafe after the whores have ridden into town.

* Note for UK readers and other civilised peoples - Indian Creek is managed as a 'wilderness area' which means that everything solid that you take in, you also have to take out. And I do mean everything. A wag-bag is basically a jiffy bag full of cat litter, designed for the purpose of packing out last night's bean burrito.

There's a sex pest on the lawn

I looked out of my office window this morning, and was shocked to see a well-known sex pest in the Sculpture Garden surrounded by young undergrads, so I phoned up campus security. I was impressed, even a little awed, by how seriously they took my complaint. There are security guards everywhere and I keep having to show my ID when I leave the lab to go to the toilet. I was mistaken though, it seems that they're all here to protect this fiend.

I've been telling all the administrators in the department to watch out, and don't accept the offer of any cigars from strange men, but they're just staring out of the windows all googly-eyed like a bunch of sixteen-year-olds at a Beatles concert. It's almost as if they want to have a cigar inserted in them by an ex-President. I have to give him credit though, he does have exquisite hair that is positively resplendent in the sun. The ultimate SAGA sex-symbol.

Actually, if I'm perfectly honest I don't really care what Clinton, or even Foley, got up to with his interns. I will never have interns, but as my career progresses I will have access to at least a few desperate/naive students every year, and believe me they'll have a lot more than a cigar to worry about during my office hours. It's a terrible cliche I know, but one of the few perks of academia is the constant access to firm, young flesh that get more interested in you as you get older. And no amount of 'sexual harassment' seminars are going to stop me from fully exploiting that resource.

Ring of Fire

Richard Lefevre won $2000 dollars on Sunday, for eating 247 jalapeno peppers at the Jalapeno Eating world Championships. Emergency services in his home state of Nevada have been on alert pending his first bowel movement.

He narrowly beat Sonya Thomas, a 105 pound asian woman who makes a living out of cramming junk food down her gullet. I wonder if she's thought of applying to the World Food Program for sponsorship? No matter, she's single and she can get 8.31 pounds of sausage in her mouth in 10 minutes, which makes her my kind of woman.

No wonder Americans aren't interested in inane, contrived sports like 'soccer'.

Sonya Thomas - butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. Probably because it wouldn't have time

I am rather grateful to Kim Jong-il

I have, in the past, been criticised for the feckless and irresponsible life choices I have made. 'Think of the future!', they all cried, 'think about your retirement!'.

Thanks to North Korea, it is now obvious that there will be no future, and my way has been proven the best way. I have spent the whole weekend pissing myself at all that money my friends have thrown away on retirement funds and investments, when they should have been spending it on fine booze and bad women. Suckers.

It's like the collapse of the Tories all over again

It's vile. It's more sad than anything else, to see someone with such potential throw it all down the drain because of a sexual addiction

That was (former) Representative Mark Foley in 1998 talking about Bill Clinton. Clinton, you may recall, was almost impeached because a consenting adult gave him a blow job, whereas Foley was merely reprimanded for soliciting underage male employees.

It's like watching a rerun of the mid-90s Conservative party.