Hi Everyone,

First off, Happy Sunday! Now, I just wanted to remind everyone that John has the day off.  Regular blogging activities will resume tomorrow (Monday).  But, in the meantime, here are some more towel animal theatre videos for your viewing pleasure.  Hope everyone had a nice Thanksgiving
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This is going to be a blog that includes stuff about my bottom….and for those with a weak disposition…….I suggest you log on to www.bestblogsatsea.com and read the brilliant and more serious non blogs that have absolutely no mention of bottoms. For those still with me I have to tell you I am not feeling well………I have the galloping trots…….or diarrhea to give it its scientific name and to tell you just how bad it is……well…….let’s just say I could poo through a straw…………and it’s America’s fault. Last night I decided to take Heidi and the Thingy out for dinner……..just the three of us.

We decided to drive a few miles away from where we live to a place called Basildon where there is a recently opened area called Festival Park. This is a little version of America. Sitting in diamond formation are a group of restaurants dedicated to the Good Old US of A. The Stars and Stripes are everywhere ………on flag poles and in the windows of a huge multiplex cinema and bowling alley……..it’s known locally as Bas Vegas……… Our choices of restaurants included:ChilisChiquita MexicanMacaroni GrilleOutbackTGI Fridays.
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I returned home from breakfast this morning with mate Danny and, when I entered the house, I thought we had been robbed. My stuff, including my signed photo of Cyndi Lauper from the Jubilee’s MTV cruise in 1989 had gone.

I then realized that we hadn’t been burgled but that Heidi was in one of her “throwing things out” moods and that my Cyndi Lauper photo and my collection of Star Trek: The Next Generation videos had been removed from the room we call “the office” and had either been placed in the garbage, put in the attic or given to a charity shop……..I wonder how much the local cancer society charity shop would sell a Cyndi Lauper photo for and who would buy it?
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Every part of my body is cold. My arms, my feet, my eyes, my hair and my hemorrhoids ………….global warming my arse.

I just returned from standing next to Alan for two hours watching his son play rugby for his school. “Would you like to come along?” asked my mate and like an idiot I said “yes.” I dressed in a pair of jeans and T-shirt over which I wore my favorite leather jacket. I have had this jacket for many years and I love it. The leather still creaks like the decks of the Carnivale used to in bad weather and, along with a pair of underpants I have had for ten years, this jacket is my favorite piece of clothing. However, as much as it may be comfortable, standing on the sidelines today I realized that it wasn’t going to keep out the cold.
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There are times when I think life would be a lot less complicated if I was an animal ….a deer for example, wandering the woodland waiting for someone called Billy Bob from ESPN2 to come and shoot me in the head. “Why a deer?” I hear you say ……. well ……. because then, all I would need do to establish myself, as the superior being in a group, is to stand tall and wave my antlers around.

Unfortunately, men cannot do this, partly because we don’t have horns and partly because the human equivalent is the penis. And if you start waving that around in a Starbucks, it will end very badly. All men will claim they don’t jostle for the high ground in a group of other men, but this is bollocks. We all do. Some by using wit, some with the enormity of their wallet and some by demonstrating their IQ is higher than a Rastafarian monk who just smoked an entire marijuana bush………. And then you have those who think it’s all down to the size of the engine in their car.
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There is a book called “Women Are From Mars and Men Are from Uranus” or something like that……………………well, whoever wrote that bestseller was absolutely correct.

When I host my morning shows on the ship I always get at least two or three a week where men….who have done something terrible………..use me to apologize live on the show……..some are very sincere…………some are just pretending.

I often read these letters out and never get to know the outcome. I remember a cruise on the Carnival Splendor where a chap had spent all night in the casino and lost all the money they had budgeted for shopping, etc…………….his wife refused to let him in the cabin………….security was called…………and Uncle John had to mediate the problem by reading his letter of apology out on the show……………I have no idea what happened next.
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It’s a good job Heidi got pregnant. That’s because this morning I received a letter from the British Adoption service we had registered with a few months ago. Unfortunately, despite the fact that Heidi and I would have loved the child beyond measure and having big coal fires to keep everyone warm at night, I would not be deemed suitable, because men with beards and tofu-eating women have determined that it’s bad to place a child in the care of someone who is fat and who smokes the occasional cigar and works away from home ………. yep……………..forget the fact that we have a nice home and lots of family support ………..we are not “suitable candidates”……………………….what a load of bollocks.

However, if I weighed 50 pounds less and worked regular shifts at some random job I could adopt a child…………..I have no words.

Still, I guess I should be happy that Heidi is now pregnant and adoption is not needed………but I am still very angry that if we hadn’t been blessed with a child then ………..well…………..it’s not worth getting myself all worked up about is it?

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So, I spoke to my mate Ken the maitre d yesterday……….well……………..when I say spoke we, of course, used the e mail thingy but we had a good conversation. We have been friends for many years and I like to think we are very, very similar. We are both are very close to our families and have an unrivaled passion when it comes to Carnival Cruise Lines. We both always put the guests first and always do everything we can to make sure the guest has what they desire…………sometimes though that is not possible and what they ask for is something that cannot be done.

Ken was telling me about the two-day cruise recently finished on the Carnival Splendor. The guests had fun and were brilliantly responsive to all the activities, shows and events and, of course, the service and fun provided by Ken and his staff in the dining rooms.
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Life was much easier when man lived in caves. We spent the day pulling women around by the hair, hunting, drawing on the walls and crapping in the corner. There were no forced trips to IKEA, no bollockings for leaving underwear on the bathroom floor or being asked “Do you still love me?” every Wednesday. I am sure that cavemen did not have to endure the annoying sales calls (I had two yesterday) unless they were cave-to-cave salesmen selling new clubs with better grip with which to smack your lady over the head with should she refuse you rumpy pumpy. Well, us men still need “our cave” even today. But modern society and the female species will do their best to take this away from us………………………and that’s why we must have “man space.”
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Last night I wanted to be back in the United States because you were all being treated to one of the most eagerly awaited television shows in modern history. I’m talking, of course, about 24 – Redemption, the further adventures of Jack Bauer, CTU’s (beep beep eeoooh) shouting whisperer, whose cell phone never runs out of battery and who, in 24 hours, never needs a crap………….maybe the show is sponsored by Imodium.

I do often wonder, given Jack’s hours, exactly what the overtime situation is at CTU. The money must be good. Perhaps these past six seasons of round-the-clock bravery are down merely to Jack saving up for some new decking and a swimming pool. As soon as his savings account hits $24,000 he’s going to clock off at 5 pm, on the dot, and Western Civilization will be buggered.

Still, while there are landscape gardeners and a pool heater to be paid for, Jack is going to go that extra mile, aided by the downtrodden, exhausted Chloe back at CTU. Jack might be scaling buildings, torturing terrorists and breaking into aeroplanes, but — as is so often the case — it’s a knackered woman doing all the semi-impossible legwork behind the scenes………………she is Jack’s assistant cruise director…….his Heidi.
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