Monday, 29 September 2008


While on Kalymnos, we saw an old, tired donkey, tethered in a field beneath a fig tree.

By and large, donkeys have had a bad press: they are stubborn, intransigent creatures who have to be harried, prodded and beaten into doing tasks that the far more noble horse will willingly undertake; they are what idle, disobedient boys turn into in Pinocchio; they are gloomy, melancholy pessimists like Winnie-the-Pooh's friend, Eeyore; or, at best, they are hee-hawing clowns like Shrek's garrulous companion.

George Herbert said: “If a donkey bray at you, don't bray at him,” and the Talmud advises: "If one man says to thee, 'Thou art a donkey', pay no heed. If two speak thus, purchase a saddle!” And, indeed, I have, myself, told a rather unattractive tale of a donkey.

But, as I looked into the large, liquid eyes of this sad, weary creature, my mind flew back to childhood and my first reading of that simple, yet affecting, poem by G K Chesterton...


When forests walked and fishes flew

And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood,
Then, surely, I was born.

With monstrous head and sickening bray
And ears like errant wings—
The devil's walking parody
Of all four-footed things:

The battered outlaw of the earth
Of ancient crooked will;
Scourge, beat, deride me—I am dumb—
I keep my secret still.

Fools! For I also had my hour—
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout around my head
And palms about my feet.

- G K Chesterton

Images: Brian Sibley & David Weeks © 2008 [Click on images to enlarge]

Saturday, 27 September 2008


Through the kindness of a friend who gave me a copy of Jack Tracy's The Ultimate Sherlock Holmes Encyclopedia, I have been taking a few highly enjoyable return visits to 221b Baker Street where I overheard the great detective make what seems a pretty timeless observation:

What you do in this world is a matter of no consequence. The question is, what can you make people believe that you have done?  

(As recorded by Dr John H Watson and reported
by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in A Study in Scarlet)

However true that may be, many other things have changed in the 121 years since Holmes and Watson set out to unravel the "scarlet thread of murder running through the colourless skein of life".

For example, Holmes' official portraitist, Sidney Paget (late of The Strand Magazine) may have shown his subject smoking one of his many pipes (above) or, here, occupying a SMOKING compartment when travelling with Watson by train...

But, today, pipes are definitely not permitted on the London Underground --- even, as you can see, at Baker Street station!

Thursday, 25 September 2008


From the website of Australian funeral Directors Piddingtons:

Our stylish cremation options leave
nothing to be desired.

Fashionably decorated, our cremation facilities offer modern style, without sacrificing quality. You can be rest assured that your loved one will be kept safe for ages to come.
I can hardly wait: I always wanted to end up helping fill in holes in a garden wall --- especially one this 'stylish'!

Still, I guess if this truly fulfills your criteria of 'leaves nothing to be desired', then you might as well be dead!

Tuesday, 23 September 2008


I recently came across some examples of Murphy's Lesser Known Laws (featured below) and was prompted to wonder - not for the first time - who was this Murphy character who is responsible for all those infallible laws?

According to various internet sites, Murphy's history goes something like this...
The Law was originally discovered by a sergeant at Edward's Air Force Base, California. Rocket-sled experiments were done by the United States Air Force in 1949 to test human acceleration tolerances (USAF project MX981).

One experiment involved a set of 16 accelerometers mounted to different parts of the subject's body. There were two ways each sensor could be glued to its mount. Of course, somebody managed to install all 16 the wrong way around. It was then that Edward A Murphy, Jr made his epic pronouncement: "If anything can go wrong, it will."
However, others have thrown into question Murphy's claim to authorship and a detailed discussion on this arcane topic will be found on Wikipedia. But just remember: "If it is possible to miss an important meeting while reading this, you will!"

In any event, whether he was Sgt Murphy or someone else, he, she or they were only hijacking the much older rule known as Sod's Law ("If there's some poor sod who's going to get it in the neck, you will be that poor sod!") or, perhaps, a lesser know authority, Finagle's Law.

And even before Sod and/or Finagle, sages were putting forward similar immutable premises, among them.....

Alfred Holt, engineer:
It is found that anything that can go wrong at sea generally does go wrong sooner or later, so it is not to be wondered that owners prefer the safe to the scientific...

- Review of the Progress of Steam Shipping
during the last Quarter of a Century
Minutes of Proceedings of the Institution of Civil Engineers
Vol. LI, Session 1877-78

Nevil Maskelyne, magician and First President of The Magic Circle:
It is an experience common to all men to find that, on any special occasion, such as the production of a magical effect for the first time in public, everything that can go wrong will go wrong. Whether we must attribute this to the malignity of matter or to the total depravity of inanimate things, whether the exciting cause is hurry, worry, or what not, the fact remains.

- 'The Art in Magic', The Magic Circular, June 1908
And before both of them (and others) an anonymous writer in the Huron Reflector for November 23rd, 1841 edition observed:
I never had a slice of bread,
Particularly large and wide,
That did not fall upon the floor,
And always on the buttered side.
Anyway, to this latest cache of Murphyisms...
Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.

Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine.

Those who live by the sword get shot by those who don't.

Nothing is foolproof to a sufficiently talented fool.

The 50-50-90 rule: Anytime you have a 50-50 chance of getting something right, there's a 90% probability you'll get it wrong.

If you lined up all the cars in the world end to end, someone would be stupid enough to try to pass them, five or six at a time, on a hill, in the fog.

The things that come to those who wait will be the scraggly junk left by those who got there first.

The shinbone is a device for finding furniture in a dark room.

A fine is a tax for doing wrong. A tax is a fine for doing well.

When you go into court, you are putting yourself into the hands of twelve people who weren't smart enough to get out of jury duty.

You can find out more about Murphy and bone up on his laws at: Murphy's Laws Site and Muphy's Law: If It Can Go Wrong, It Will.

Monday, 22 September 2008


...Or more precisely - HORSING ALOFT!

Only five of our regular bloggers took a stab at explaining this photo of a flying horse - although 'stab', as you'll see, is probably not the best turn of phrase.

Magician QENNY approached the problem with an illusionist's eye...

Would it be considered trick photography if this were based on something like the Peppers Ghost illusion?

And can we assume that the horse-like thing is much closer than the clouds it seems to be flying into? I am intrigued!

Sorry, QENNY, absolutely nowhere near the right answer...

SUZANNE came up with a novel interpretation:

It's International Toy Horse throwing day... Anyone can tell you that! Well, why not?

You get cheese rolling, hamburger eating, hammer throwing... Why not toy horse throwing?

Yep, and it might even become a recognised Olympic sport by 2012...

DRAGONLADYCH chose a whimsy way of answering the puzzle:

Easy. It's a black hole created by Aliens because they were disappointed that the CERN did succeed in making one.

It's only disguised as a horse so we would mistake it for a hot air balloon and keep us from panicking. How thoughtful of them!

The other two nailed it directly - but with alternatives: GILL speculating on a theory similar to SUZANNE's:

It is either a toy horse hurled into the air, or it might just be a balloon!

And, last but not least, ANDREW GLAZEBROOK, because his response was the FIRST to be received - only minutes after the post was on the site:

Is it a balloon? Or maybe falling from a great height!?

I take as a great compliment GILL and ANDREW's assumption that I would be capable of photographing a toy horse lobbed into the air or a (real?) horse falling (why, Andrew, why?!) from a great height... But, yes! It was a helium filled balloon: that escaped from the grip of a toddler at the end of a visit to the fairground and galloped off into the blue.

Now, I'm going to confess: it was actually a balloon ZEBRA, but I knew that if I told you that (especially since the stripes weren't visible any longer) it would be a dead give away!

Sunday, 21 September 2008


I seem to be getting a reputation for being something of a goat-fancier...

Sheila and Roger have just sent me a story and accompanying (I assume) jokey image from the internet pages of First News


A herd of goats found locked up in jail

The animals were spotted in a police cell in Africa when a politician was having a look round.

The politician, Claude Nyamugabo, was on a routine visit to see prisoners in the Democratic Republic of Congo. But he was astonished to find one of the cells packed out with 12 goats.
The animals were due to appear in court charged with being sold, against the law, by the side of the road.

Mr Nyamugabo immediately ordered that the goats should be released from prison.
He went on to say that the police had “serious gaps” in their knowledge. He ordered them to go for more training.

First News
wonders what the goats’ punishment would have been if they had been found guilty. Perhaps they would have been baaaaaanned from grazing for six months.
First News, by the way, is (and I quote) "the award-winning newspaper for KIDS"! Natch!

Still on the subject of goats: while on Kalymnos, I was reminded, yet again, how differently the Greek islanders view animals (which are raised to be killed and eaten) from those of us who live in societies where meat is disguised as pre-packed, shrink-wrapped, pinky stuff that comes from the supermarket.

Consider this little fellow who escaped from the nearby field and who is obviously trying not to read what is on the menu board outside Artistico taverna...

Click to enlarge

As it happens, that particular goat lived to see another day.

This one, however, got itself into a bit of stew...

Thanks to David for taking the pictures, Sheila (again) for help in writing the Greek for 'goat stew' and to Roger (also again) for allowing us to photograph his dinner!

Images: David Weeks © 2008

Saturday, 20 September 2008


There's a line in the introduction to the song 'When I See An Elephant Fly' in the film Dumbo when the Crows are discussing the possibility of pachyderm-flight...

Did you ever see an elephant fly?
Well I've seen a horse fly...
I've seen a dragon fly...
I've seen a house fly...
And so on...

Well, I've seen a HORSE fly!

Here it is... Flying...

Now, whatever you may think, this is not a trick photograph. I snapped it myself and it is completely genuine and untampered with: the animal in the picture really is in the sky...

Obviously it's not Pegasus -- or you'd see the wings! So, who can explain this mystery?

All answers, suggestions, solutions gratefully received; though I may hold publications of submissions to give everyone a chance...

Friday, 19 September 2008


Lawks! A little over halfway through September and the first Christmas catalogue has arrived...

Note the invocation on the cover...

Now, I love Magic, Christmas and especially Christmas Magic, but...


Thursday, 18 September 2008


"It reminds me of The Scapegoat," remarked Sheila as we drove past a group of long-horned goats scrambling among the rocks and scrubbery beside a road over the mountains in Kalymnos.

And Sheila was right! The goat in front of us was definitely a relative of the hapless creature depicted in what is, I think, one of the most disturbing paintings ever made.

Click to enlarge

Painted in 1856 by the Pre-Raphaelite artist, William Holman Hunt, The Scapegoat is laden with symbolism: it depicts a ritual that formed part of the ceremonies of Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, in Judaism during the times of the Temple in Jerusalem. As described in Leviticus Chapter 16, the scapegoat was one of two goats chosen by lot. One was used as a sacrifice, the other was released into the wild to carry the sins of the people out of their community...
Aaron shall lay both his hands on the head of the live goat, confess over it all the iniquities of the children of Israel, and all their transgressions, concerning all their sins, putting them on the head of the goat, and shall send it away into the wilderness... The goat shall bear on itself all their iniquities to an uninhabited land; and he shall release the goat in the wilderness.
It was from this ritual that we get the concept of someone being a 'scapegoat' or, in modern parlance, the 'patsy' or the 'fall guy'...

The Christian interpretation of this Judaic law - which was foremost in Holman Hunt's intentions - was that Jesus had become the ultimate scapegoat, bearing the sins of all humanity when he was 'sent out', beyond the city walls of Jerusalem, to die on the cross - but with the caveat that, being resurrected, he broke the chain of guilt and punishment once and for all.

Hunt painted the picture - posing a real goat, we are told, among the salt wastes at Oosdoomon the edge of the Dead Sea - and had the painting framed to incorporate two biblical quotations:
Surely he hath borne our Griefs and carried our Sorrows; Yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of GOD and afflicted. (Isaiah 53:4)

And the Goat shall bear upon him all their iniquities unto a Land not inhabited. (Leviticus 16:22)
You can read a full interpretation of Hunt's painting in an article by Albert Boime.

I had seen many reproductions of the picture, but when I first encountered the original in the Lady Lever Art Gallery, Port Sunlight, Liverpool, I realised why I found it so difficult to look at it with anything other than the queasiest of sensations...

What I really dislike about this painting is the all-pervasive atmosphere of sickliness: the sallow moon in the top left hand corner; the bilious sky and livid mountains; the stagnant water in the distance; the yellow, salt-caked shallows in the foreground; the blackened weeds and the skeletons and horns of former victims.

And then the goat itself: the bloodied hand print of the priest upon its head and the helpless, lurching, gait which, together with the rolled up eyes, tells us that the poor creature is limping towards imminent death...

Whatever message Hunt wanted to convey it is, to my my mind, negated by its terrible tastelessness.

Personally, I'd rather have my Kalymnian goats...

Images: Brian Sibley © 2008

Tuesday, 16 September 2008


Following on from the misadventure of the keys and the bananas which I reported the other day, I can now tell you that the---, apparently, he world's---


It is also, of course, unquestionably the rudest (wasn't it Mrs Beeton who described it as "a vulgar fruit"?) and, probably, the silliest which it is why it is the butt - if a banana can be a butt (no, please don't let's go there!) - of so many jokes...

Q: What's yellow and always points north?
A: A magnetic banana.

Q: Why don't bananas snore?
A: Because they don't want to wake up the rest of the bunch.

Q: What do you do if you see a blue banana?
A: Try and cheer it up.

Q: Why did the banana go out with the prune?
A: Because it couldn't find a date.

Q: If a crocodile makes shoes, what does a banana make?
A: Slippers.

Q: What is yellow on the inside and green on the outside?
A: A banana dressed up as a cucumber!

But what about this one...

Q: What's the best way to make a banana disappear?

A: Send for regularly-featured Sibley-blog-star, Richard Wiseman

And finally......

Knock, knock!

Who's there?


Banana who?

Knock, knock!

Who's there?


Banana WHO?

Knock, knock!



Orange who?

Orange you glad I didn't say banana?

Sunday, 14 September 2008


Every Greek worth his salt can handle one and pretty much every tourist takes one home to dangle on the rear-view mirror of their car!

Kompolói (κομπολόι, pronounced koboloi) are Greek 'worry beads' (far left) and the name is derived from the medieval word κομβολόγιον made up of the two words κόμβος ('knot') and λόγιο ('collection') which comes from the Greek expression, 'se kathe kompo leo' (literally 'in each knot he says') and links this fidget device to the komboskini, the prayer beads or knotted prayer ropes of the Orthodox monks.

However, whilst resembling a rosary, the kompolói no longer has any religious significance.

Kompolói come in all sizes (the usual length is approximately two palm widths) and with varying numbers of beads - though always an odd number. There is also a 'head' composed of a fixed bead (παπάς, 'priest'), a shield (θυρεός) to separate the two threads and help the beads to flow freely, and a tassel (φούντα).

A variation on the kompolói (above near left) is a single strand of beads - sometimes only two - that is known as begleri or mpegleri, derived from the verb mpeglerizo meaning 'I roll the dice'.

According to a Greek website (curiously advertising itself as 'A Taste of Greece - without the Travel'!):

The kompolói, or coboloi and was first introduced by the Turks. From the Turks it became popular, as an accessory at the hands of the dignitaries and sovereigns as symbol of force, wealth and power.

Soon kompolóis became popular among the common people as means for meditation and companion in lounging and to calm the pain.
Because kompolói is a accessory able to cover various human needs, it passed to the hands of antisocial elements. For them it became symbol of independence, freedom and reactive and rough behaviour.

The above, in addition to the intensification of the production and the rhythms of life after the second World War, lead to the decay of kompolói, since the new conditions and ideologies created societies of people struggling to success and survive.

In our age, when rhythms of life are exhausting and stress, shopping, drinks, smoking, depression and antidepressant drugs have become a matter of everyday life, kompoloi makes a dynamic come-back and offers many solutions to the 'dead ends' of contemporary life. Because kompolói is:

o A way of giving up bad habits, such as smoking, nervousness or comfort eating, or biting our nails

o A jewel, when it is strung with valuable beads made of amber, semi-precious stones or precious metals

o A remedy, when it is made of semiprecious stones, which radiate a health-enhancing energy

o A piece of art, when it is designed with high standards of aesthetics

A collector’s item, as it can be rare, beautiful, and precious

o A symbol of strength, power, when it is artistic and precious

o An amulet, when it contains symbols of our beliefs and good luck

o A psychotherapist, because the massage to our fingers can relax our neural system

o A home decorative for our the furniture, table and the walls

o A joy for our senses, with its purling beads, silken touch, vibrant colours, and the magical scent of amber and aromatic wood

o A personal trainer, because we can use it to train our fingers' skills

o An heirloom, redolent of our forebears’ lives and the tales they told, and bearing the story of our own lives forward to generations to come

o A medium between man and God, because it can be used as a rosary to count prayers

o A symbol of wealth; it points out that we have plenty of free time

A reflection of our personality, as it reflects our ego, in the same way as our car or our house does

This is why we are not exaggerating if we say "show me your worry beads and I’ll show you who you are". Indeed, kompoloi is not just a fashion fad: it is a necessity! It is the jewel of men and the symbol of independency for women. Instead of smoking cigarettes one after the other, or yelling out angry vocals, lets keep or fingers busy with our favourite worry beads.
So, now you know - although I have to say, I have yet to see any 'independent' Greek women demonstrating their skill with the kompolói...

Nikolas Glinatsi and his fiancé, Eleni, gave me a kompolói and a beglari as a going-away present this year...

Whilst I have 'played' with Greek worry beads for a number of years, I am far from accomplished, so here's Nickolas' father, George Glinatsi, demonstrating how to do it properly.

First, here's how to handle your kompolói...

And now the beglari technique...

Well, I guess I'll just have to keep practising and hope I can show some improvement before next year!

Images: Brian Sibley / Movies: David Weeks © 2008

Saturday, 13 September 2008

Ναι, δεν έχουμε καμία μπανάνα! *

On small Greek islands, small events often blossom into big dramas. The following occurrence, in which were involved, was recorded by a friend, who - out of discretion - I will call Ο Βιβλιοθηκονόμος (The Librarian):

Greek phrase books never have what you need. A few years ago a friend found herself at the reception desk of an Athens hotel needing to say: "My husband with all our luggage is stuck in your revolving door."

I was reminded of this by a recent incident...

A group of four English visitors are returning to their village in a hire car when they espy the travelling vegetable van near an isolated house. Needing fresh fruit and thinking that by the time he got to their village the best would have gone, they stop and two of the party make their purchases. At one stage, neither wanting a large hand of bananas, they play 'wishbones' with the bunch to divide it between them. The transactions completed, the van moves away while the party admires the view.

It is only as the van disappears round the next bend, that the car driver discovers he does not have the car key. The vehicle, bags and purchases are searched. No key. Realisation dawns: during the horseplay (or monkey play?) with the bananas, the key must have dropped amongst the fruit.

Knowing the van would stop in the village they are heading for, it is decided to phone the taverna there on the basis that it will be less embarrassing than phoning the car hire company. No signal. There follows a 'gentle stroll' to a higher point on the winding road, all the while scanning the ground in case the key had dropped. Alas, no key, but - at last - a signal!

First the bad news: the stored phone number is 'not recognised'. Then the good news: another member of the party has a business card from said taverna with a different number. Hope returns. The phone is answered (fortuitously) by an English speaker and problem explained. The anxious question: "Has the veggie man arrived?" The hoped-for reply: "Yes, I just heard his horn."

The key is duly retrieved and dispatched with a youth on a motor bike who can hardly ride for laughing! It seems that the reputation of said group of tourists for being 'crazy' has been finally established once and for all.

The party is just about to drive off (the motor cyclist having now gone), when old lady carrying shopping is spotted in the rear view mirror. Is this not the granny of youth on the bike. Dilemma: the car is full, but ought they to offer a lift? Then a second look. Surely she wouldn't be on foot this far from home...? And doesn't she wear black, not grey? Probably another granny from another, nearer village. What is the penalty, they wonder, for kidnapping grannies and depositing them in the wrong village? Better not risk it..

The trauma over, the tourists check their phrase books lest a similar episode should ever occur. But, sadly, nowhere does it say: "Can you ask the travelling veggie-man to check his bananas for the key to my hire car."

Nor, come to that, can they find: "I am sorry, Officer, we have forced the wrong granny into our car and driven her to the wrong village, taking her attempts to refuse for natural diffidence."

My thanks to Ο Βιβλιοθηκονόμος for permission to publish this account and for being so civil as to not mention that the driver was named David!

* Today's blog heading: Yes, we have no bananas!
(More or less)

Images: Brian Sibley & David Weeks © 2008

Friday, 12 September 2008


On the menu for today's Woman's Hour (BBC Radio 4):

"Is offal really back?"

Unfortunately, I missed the answer; so, if anyone knows, please advise a.s.a.p. The suspense is agonising!


On our way back from Greece we picked up some new Greek pom-pom slippers in Athens...

Our last pairs (given us by our friends at Atristico some years ago) have worn well but are showing early signs of dilapidation partly due to the affectionate attentions of our friend Sophie's kittens who, not unnaturally, find the pom-poms irresistible!

Humans, on the other hand, seem to think them faintly ludicrous. For example, when I was hospitalised earlier in the year, I was wandering around in mine and the man in the bed opposite said: "Nice slippers! They must have been a present!"

They are, of course, a somewhat gayer relative of the red 'tsarouhi' leather clogs with a black pompon worn by the Evzoni (Ευζώνοι), the elite ceremonial Proedriki Froura (Presidential Guard), that can be seen guarding the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier (Άγνωστος Στρατιώτης), the Hellenic Parliament and the Presidential Mansion in Athens.

The hourly Changing of the Guard ceremony is a spectacle rivaling the sedate proceedings at our own Buck House, not least because the Evzoni can accomplish a high-kick (right) that would put the most accomplished Can-Can girl to shame!

It is, however, difficult for even the mildly-crass tourist to suppress a fit of the giggles and memories of John Cleese when watching a ritual that is obviously absolutely not intended to raise a smile...

Still pictures simply do not do justice to the event, so here's a short video, after watching which you can imagine David and I performing similar gymnastics in our new footwear!

Images: Brian Sibley © 2008

Thursday, 11 September 2008


Anyone who has been to Greece will know that, when visiting the lavatory, it is necessary - as a result of the vagaries (non-existence) of the Greek sewage system - to file the paperwork in the adjacent bin...

Due to an regretable translator's error, a sign in the toilet at Kalymnos National Airport is offers somewhat contradictory instructions...

Images: David Weeks & Brian Sibley © 2008

Wednesday, 10 September 2008


There are many noble sights in Athens...

And some odd and eccentric ones, too, such as this item from the Greek street market version of Ann Summers...

But, is it possible to open a bottle while using it, one wonders...?

Images: Brian Sibley © 2008

Monday, 8 September 2008

Αποχαιρετιστήριο, Kalymnos

Farewell, Kalymnos...

Sadly, it is once again, time to leave our little summer haven...

The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece!
Where burning Sappho loved and sung,
Where grew the arts of war and peace,
Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung!
Eternal summer gilds them yet,
But all, except their sun, is set...

- Lord Byron from The Isles of Greece

Images: Brian Sibley & David Weeks © 2007-8

Saturday, 6 September 2008


Just a few of the things I shall miss when, in a couple of days, we head for home...

Menu boards...

Jolly little tourist cars...

Exotic flowers...

Lazy cats...

Kalymnian Salads...

Sunlight through fig-leaves...

And fresh-baked figs...

The view from the beach...

Exquisite sunrises...

And glorious sunsets...

But, of course, they will remain as memories...

Images: Brian Sibley & David Weeks © 2007-8

Thursday, 4 September 2008


During a BBC interview with Boy George I asked whether the singer had meant it when he had famously said, "I prefer a nice cup of tea to sex."

Thinking, perhaps, that I was extending him an invitation, he naturally replied, "Thanks, two sugars and if you have a Petit Beurre biscuit that would be lovely!" *

I was put mind of that occasion when reading Evelyn Waugh's Vile Bodies (sorry to be quoting it again) in which the heroine Nina Blount comments à propos of her recent deflowering:

"All this fuss about sleeping together. For physical pleasure I'd sooner go to my dentist any day."

Actually I made up that bit about Boy George asking for the Petit Beurre! Must be the influence of holidaying in the land of myths!

Tuesday, 2 September 2008


We're in Greece, but from Elsewhere...

More sensational revelations continue to flood in from my tireless e-mail spamsters...

Rowling announces next Harry Potter book

Leonardo Di Caprio caught canoodling
with Blake Lively in NY bar

Paris Hilton tosses Dwarf on the Street

Afghanistan to be 52nd US State

McDonald's Happy Meals in San Francisco
to include Gay Marriage License

Osama Seen Dining at The Paris Ritz

Britney Spears and Michael Jackson
to write Parenting Book

Michael Jackson Auctions Himself on Ebay!

and even better...

Aliens Abducted by Michael Jackson