For reasons beyond me, a lot of people seem to think you encapsulate the best way to live your life in some meaningless one line phrase. Like a complex code of morals can be summed up in one or two wrds. Here's a few examples.

Here for a good time, not a long time:- This usually comes out of idiots going nowhere in life. "See the reason I'm unemployed and spend all my time drinking and having sex with Travellers is because I'm enjoying my life!! Yeah baby! Who needs an education or a job!!"

Live for the weekends:- If you have ever uttered this phrase you are a fucking MORON. Go and kill yourself right now and stop polluting the Earth with your stupidity.

Never regret anything that made you smile:- What if raping farm animals makes me smile? Not in the slightest bit regrettable!

Live each day like its your last:- If I knew I had one day to live, I'd probably be horribly depresed. Its very fucking unlikely I'd enjoy it.

Live life to the full:- Usually written "live 2 da full." Someone tell me what that sentence means? What exactly is The Full? Is it a religious book of some description? Fuck off!!

The following is extracts from a conversation overheard in Java's the other day between four women, presumably mature students. It circulated around some buisness venture as far as I could tell. It seemed to be a string of pointless, open ended statements until the KING DADDY of stupid remarks came out of this slag's mouth.

"As a local, I want to work with the community, for the community." Nothing too bad here. Just wannabe altruism as you just know the woman thinks helping the community is not having them put down.

The immeadiate response to this piece of brilliance was this from her friend:

"Oh, lets put that on the fliers!" Presumably they're campaigning to have the enitre working class, as well as everyone who hasn't been to a sociology lecture rounded up on a big raft and set adrift in the Atlantic, where they'll eventually run ashore on a deserted island and establish a primitive but fascinating society where the hairiest man rules all and they'll bing specimens back to study which some well meaning anthropologist will study then before being bitten and they'll then catch "working class" and shed their skin and start eating tires.

The most ridiculous statment I heard that evening was from the ring leader of this group of witches and went like this:

"When you invest fiftenn grand in something, you want to see outcomes."

Keep in mind people that she didn't even specify if the outcomes needed to be positive, so presumably, she'd be happy enough to invest her fifteen grand in a project, lose it all and get beaten over the head with a shovel while someone spent her money on a fucking huge box of Lego. Have you ever come across one of thos peopl who speaks just to be heard, while her friends, all desperate to appear as "interesting" as their leader look on and nod sagely? "Too right, outcomes are crucial." Because investing thousands in sometihng could never reach a natural conclusion unless this ape wanted to see outcomes.

Javas should should be closed down unless I want a bottle of Iki. If you've never had Iki its a beer based on green tea so it doesn't count as real drinking. To Iki!

I work for O2 who are mad into the environment. There's loads of different bins on every floor of the building where I work for paper, plastic, wet waste like fruit and other food and one for drinks cans and whatever. All the waste paper is recycled. Its a good policy to be fiar even if it is solely for the purposes of saving money not trees and rabbits.

However, the other day, this environment friendly policy took a disturbing twist. As I went for one of my many toilet breaks during my four hour shift last Tuesday I noticed the bathoom was in complete darkness. Unusual to say the least. THe lights are normally always on. As i walked in the lights suddenly came on all by themselves, which I then presumed was what they always did. I thought they must be motion sensitive or something just as impressive. Anyway, as I sat down to take a massive crap- something I find immensely satisfying- I began tro worry that if I sat still too long I'd be plunged into darkness. Needless to say, I finished up quickly and fled the potential tomb that was the men's room. I considered this disturbing turn of events throughout the evening. Would I have to bounce up and down on the toilet from now on the ensure I didnt end up shitting on the floor due to visual restraints? The clever among you will point out that the bouncing would only accelerate the floor shitting but what else am I supposed to do?

On Thursday, I again ventured to the bathroom armed with that day's Indo, determined to disagree with Ian O'Doherty, something I never manage. Again, as I entered the bathroom it was totally dark as there are no windows. I had spotted a sign on the door that said "New Environment Friendly Energy Saving Lights Have Been Installed." Ah. I went to my usual cubicle as the lights came to life above me and sat down. After a few minutes of journalistic perusal I heard a noise in the next cubicle. The sound of someone pulling up their trousers and slowly leaving. Nothing too unusual there. Until I realised the room had been dark when I came in so this fella had been sitting there, in perfect silence for who knows how long. There hadn't even been a splash. . . What had he been doing?? My mind was racing as I considered the possibilites. I came to the only reasonable conclusion. O2 were setting up to be ass raped as I went to the jacks. Some sick coprorate motherfucker wanted me buggered. I frantically finished what I was doing, scanned the ceiling for hidden cameras, gave the mirror the finger and fled.

I went back to my desk, every other man in sight a suspect. Good thing all the people on my team are women. . . I wasn't ruling them out but I was trying to be logical. I resolved to bring a high powered torch to work from then on. "Good Evening O2 Cutomer Care, Alan Speaking. . ."