Bored now...

Huntley "saner than I am" says judge

After hearing evidence from Medical Examiner Col Hubert Tubert, the judge avenging the deaths of Soham's Roses said that Ian Huntley was completely sane.

Justice Anthony Burbage said: "The act of taking two young girls and butchering them horribly without apparent motive is a supremely sensible one. If more people behaved like this there would be fewer teenage pregnancies, and fewer young people smacked out of their tiny crack-pans on cocaine e-balls stealing gloves to feed their insane habits. I entirely commend Mr Huntley on his eminently rational attitude to life.

"It really is a shame, when a great country like ours, ruined and doistered by years of the Nanny State, has to look to people like Mr Huntley for an example. I anticipate withhorror the day on which our English paedophiles, hooligans and vigilantes are treated like common criminals." In the rest of his four-hour rant the judge's comments included: "Why this man's so sane he makes Hitler look a bit mad!" and "Nurse! It's happened again!"

Justice works. Think of the children.

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I am such a rubbish at this blog malarkey

I've never got the hang of quite how this is meant to be done. Just so I'm straight on a few things: people without real friends sit, calcifying their retinas with each moment they spend gazing into the blank radiation of a computer screen, thinking that their observations, or pain, or poor attempts at humour are something the whole world is lacking? Do these people really imagine that people across the world rush home from work every day in order to discover which other girl they spent half an hour looking at in a coffee shop the other day as she failed to notice, until she was distinctly unimpressed by their "Programmers do it all night long, preferably with a can of Jolt and a huge amount of downloaded pornography" T-shirt?

I don't care. I just don't give even the slightest iota of a scintilla of a shit. Ream me sideways with a screwdriver if I ever think that what I really need to do with my life is find out, in 5000 words, why a teenager in Idaho thinks Korn rule, or who else is going in Carina's Book of People I Really Hate (vol. 7).

Not only is it offensive to my sensibilities, but it's physically embarrassing how shameless these people are. Just the words "I found something out today" bring me out in hives and send my skin scuttling off my back and into the corner. People are meant to have secrets.

You're not that interesting. Your impotence, your failure to relate to people who exist in a world you loathe having to deal with except to get groceries and cream for your bed-sores, your fucking awful, tawdry, banal little lives are not worth sharing.

Your pain isn't special, your jokes are almost invariably borrowed from Eddie Izzard, and the sheer self-obsession you display every time you decide to write another entry in $t@rFairy'$ Diary! makes you an utterly unlovable human bring, and a waste of perfectly good pixels.

Now, fuck off.

Yes, I am well aware of the irony inherent in this rant. You're still not clever.