My shampoo made me think and now I need help.

I was in the shower today when my shampoo got me thinking.

It is not everyday that shampoo makes me think, but this is a special shampoo. Now, when I say special shampoo, I do not mean it contains brain enhancing nano bugs that crawl in your ears and make your brain work. Nor is it medicated for stopping them little blood sucking hair bug things that you used to get in school. My shampoo is special because it is by Frizz-Ease and is supposed to make my gorgeous curly locks look healthy and be more manageable.

I shall read you the quote on the side of the bottle.

"Frizz-Ease Anti Frizz Shampoo for heat damaged hair is especially formulated to make Kelvin's gorgeous curly locks look healthy and be more manageable."

See? Told you.

So, there it is, sitting on the bath tub, parked next to my equally important Frizz-Ease super frizz busting, arse kicking, double hard bastard, show-me-some-frizz-and-I'll-punch-it's-teeth-in Conditioner.

My shower started with the usual ritual of taking my clean clothes to the bathroom and forgetting my towel, returning to my room and going on facebook because I can't remember why I returned to my room, reaching up to turn the light on and catching a whiff of my armpit, remembering that I was having a shower, getting towel and returning to bathroom.

Once in the bathroom, I take a moment to check for caterpillars, pausing only to offer an admiring glance at the enormous turds that our cat, Megatron, has deposited in his litter tray. Seriously, that cat's bum hole must be ruined! I swear, one turd was so big I felt like planting a flag at it's summit and giving it a name.

Once I am satisfied that there are no caterpillars spying on me, I then begin the tedious task of turning on the taps. This might seem a simple task to the uninitiated, but in fact, it is a task that requires a steady hand, intense concentration and surgical precision. Despite the wide arcs of movement offered by both the hot and cold taps in our shower, there is actually only two settings:- Freezing and boiling. Trying to find the fine line between this two points is a bit like trying to iron your pubic hair, both dangerous and tricky. You have to reach through the shower to turn the taps. One moment you think you're dodging molten lava, you move one tap a millimetre and the next thing you know, you're standing in an Arctic hail storm. If you do ever find the sweet spot, don't think it will be there tomorrow. The caterpillars go into the shower over night and adjust the taps so that you can't find it again the next day.

Never trust a caterpillar, they are sneaky buggers.

Anyway, I am in the shower, rubbing my new shampoo on to my hair when I thought, "Why have I bought this shampoo?" The only answer I could think of was vanity. I want my hair to look nice for me and for other people. I don't like frizz. And for that I blame God. He must be responsible because he put that Apple on that tree. He told Eve not to eat it, knowing full well that the only way to guarantee a woman will do something is to tell her not to do it. If it wasn't for God and religion we would all be running around butt naked and I wouldn't have had to buy shampoo. But then, if I didn't buy the shampoo, the poor Australian people that made it would have no money. They wouldn't be able to buy food to put on their barbecue and they would starve and that's bad. We would then have to try and find ways to feed the Australians so we would invent Genetically Modified foods and probably make one massive burger for them to cook that would feed them for, like, ever. But that would have to come from a massive cow. And cows come from other cows so we would have to make two massive cows that could do the sexy time to make the massive cow for the burger. But then they would have to come from massive cows too, so we would have to make more massive cows. Before you know it the whole world would be over run by massive cows. We would be drowning in milk. We would have to make dams out of Wheatabix to try to soak it all up. (There is a top tip there actually. You pour milk over your Wheatabix and it is gone in seconds, so next time you spill milk somewhere, just throw a couple of Wheatabix on it, will clean it up no problem.) Of course, when the burger gets to Australia, they need to cook it. The only thing big enough for that would be a forest fire. The problem with that is all the milk putting the flames out. We would need a Wheatabix wall around the forest before we set it alight. And a bun for the burger. I then started to realise that we would need a lot of wheat. This could prove tricky to grow when everywhere is covered in milk with giant cows marching about so I started making plans on ways to grow wheat on the moon.

And that's about the point when I got out of the shower. As you can see this brainstorm has raised some important issues and has led me to an critical question, to which I am hoping you will offer your insight and help me make the right choice.

Being as it's winter, should I be having baths instead of showers?

***All the crap you see written here is Kelvin's opinion and not that of his associates, race team or marketing partners.***

Kelvin's Bible. Part 1

It has become apparent recently that I do not see the world in quite the same way as many of you. This has made me question some of the beliefs I have and some of the things I do. After much pondering on the subject I have concluded that the only reasonable answer, is that you are all wrong. To this end, I am going to compile a guide to life that, I hope, will help many of you on your slow and tedious journey towards the grave. It should be able to help you make moral judgements and help you to understand the physical world around us. It can also be used for spiritual guidance in your times of need. I am hoping to cover every aspect of life but if you feel there is something I am missing, please let me know, and I shall be sure to cover it in future editions. It will include many quotes from me as well as other heroes of the universe, be sure you heed our words well.

Good luck with your life!

"The Devil is in the detail!" :- Satan 6A.D

When dealing with life, small things are as important as big ones. And it is the small things that you face day to day. We could of started this blog off talking about God and the universe but there is not a lot of point. You see, God and the universe is great, but in a minute you will be making a cup of tea. God and the universe will still be there when you have finished, but the tea making is imminent. It is only a small thing, but you face it every day, so it is important to sort it out. There are many small things to sort out, save the big things for later.

TEA

Since we are on the subject of tea, lets deal with it first. The most important thing to remember here is that black cups are wrong. It has been scientifically proven by me that black cups contain a secret, previously unknown molecule, that reacts with tea to make it taste funny. Black cups should be used for show and not actually drunk out of. Not much is known about this molecule but the widely excepted theory is that it was put into the cups by aliens. No one is sure at what point in the cups life this happens but we suspect it is when the cup is being created, because no one really knows how black cups are made...

Each cup of tea requires AT LEAST one teabag. To ask a teabag to make more than one cup of tea is to put that tea bag beyond the call of duty. Every time you move a teabag to a second cup, an Angel dies. You will be punished by God at the final reckoning.

Milk goes in after tea because Angels are better than cows.

Pound Land does not sell tea bags. It sells imitation tea bags that are actually made out of ground up kittens that they stole from orphaned children last Christmas time. Fact. Only use quality tea bags from a brand you can trust.

FOOD

Everybody has problems with this subject because there are so many ideas and theory's on what is right and wrong and what is good for you and what isn't. It is easier when you break it down to dealing with food over a week, rather than your daily intake.

There are four main food groups:- Breakfast, Pizza, Chocolate and Other.

Breakfast.

Breakfast is anything you eat between four in the morning and two in the afternoon. Anything before this time is either a midnight snack, or something you bought from the Kebab shop on the way home from the club to cure your impending hangover. These are called "Meat Aspirins".

Breakfast should involve at least one animal. If breakfast is to be eaten at a breakfast vendors such as a cafe or a restaurant, and there is bacon on the menu, the bacon MUST be eaten. The pig laid down its life so that you could have a nice breakfast. We do not disrespect the pig by turning it down at the breakfast table. The chicken, he just threw in a couple of eggs, but the pig showed true commitment. We must respect that.

If a fry up is not your thing, you can still get your morning animal in with cereal. Just make sure there is a liberal sprinkling of moo juice over it. Likewise, if your having toast, doctors say there is no such thing as too much butter!

Breakfast is required everyday except Tuesday.

Pizza

Although there is no bad time for pizza, many are confused on which day of our weekly diet we should eat the roundest of our four food groups. Fortunately, Dominos has helped us out by making pizza cheaper on Tuesdays making Tuesday the obvious day to enjoy pizza. Pizzas are wholesome and nutritious and are ideal for the balanced diet as they contain many items from the fourth food group, "Other". Pizza contains many vegetables such as tomato, pepper, mushroom, peperoni and cheese. This means you can get your "5 a day!" in one simple meal!

Pizza can cover a wide variety of items from the food group "other", however, there are some rules. Pineapple is a pudding. It has no place on a pizza. A pizza is a main course and not a pudding. Frozen pizzas are ok if you take them in moderation. A frozen pizza can be used as a stand-in when there is simply no way of getting a real pizza from an approved pizza provider. Pound Land do not sell frozen pizza, the sell imitation pizza that is actually made from the tears of rape victims mixed with the blood of a homeless person. Fact.

Chocolate

Chocolate is the universal food group. It comes in many guises and, despite popular opinion that this is a type of pudding, it can be eaten at any time. Chocolate is good for you because it it dissolves into your blood stream giving you lightning reflexes and super human powers, unfortunately, these only last a short amount of time. However, because chocolate dissolves completely, there is no way it can make you fat. Chocolate comes in the form of bars, cake, biscuits and drink. Only buy chocolate from an approved brand such as Cadburys. beware of cheap imitation chocolate that is made from chopped up war veterans.

Chocolate is eaten everyday except Monday. Double bubble on Sunday though.

Other

Other is food that you eat with less regularity than the previous three food groups. There is too much stuff to deal with in one blog, so, in a future episode of the Bible, I will be offering you some cooking tips on how to make quick and easy meals using items from the food group "Other". Look out for my Sandwich Lite and Pasta Surprise recipes!

***All the crap you see written here is Kelvin's opinion and not that of his associates, race team or marketing partners.***

Why I don't like the Impreza.

Being a race car driver can be very difficult at times. Especially when dealing with meeting people socially. You would probably think that this wasn't the case, but you would be wrong, and I will now tell you why.

The problem with being a racing driver is that everyone with a penis between their legs, no matter how small that penis might be, is also a racing driver.

"Well," I hear you say, "that simply cannot be true because their are millions of men in the world and only a few thousand are qualified to drive race cars!"

That is correct, however, if you show me a human being with a willy and a driving licence, I will show you the greatest driver ever to get behind the wheel. And when it dawns on you that I am right and that this pretentious prick actually believes that he knows anything and everything about the sport on which he is brandishing his opinion with an accompaniment of wild hand gestures, you will turn to him and say; "So, if you so good, why aren't you doing it?" And he will tell you that, even though he earns three or four times what I do and drives a brand new SubaruEvo9GTRSTIWRXSkyline with 41" wheels with 900 bhp, he can't afford to go racing. Otherwise he would have been the best in the world.

You look at both him and me with amazement and I will just nod. There are three reasons for this nod.

(1) He is right, I cannot prove that he is not the best in the world. I can't even prove he is better than I am. Because he doesn't race.

(2) You now understand what I am talking about and why I don't talk about cars much.

(3) Because that was the part of the conversation that I like. Because that part of the conversation happened to you.

You see, the fat, sawn off, egotistical dickwad hasn't finished yet. And you don't get to join in the next bit because only "real" drivers can know what he is talking about.

So I will have to listen to how his car out-handles and out- drags everything on the road, how he had a near miss with the rozzers at 110 mph, how he got the back out at Lottbridge Drove roundabout and a million other shitty anecdotes that I am supposed to be impressed with.

If I am in one of my lesser spotted "bad" moods, they will hear something like; "Buddy, you don't race because your scared. I don't know if that's scared of being beat or scared of being hurt. And I don't f***ng care. If any of my friends are hurt for something you did on the road, I will hunt you down and kill you."

However, in my more common and infinitely more popular "good" moods, I will try to humour them. I can usually do this until they flat out ask me my opinion on a car that I think is shit but they have just spent £30,000 on.

You see, I then have to explain the problems I find with the handling of a car that they don't recognise. They think it is because I don't know what I am talking about but it is, in fact, because when I am testing a cars dynamics, I am driving it at a point in the cars performance envelope that they have never reached. They probably never will. And if they did, how many different cars have they driven like that to compare it to?

The fact is that I am a racing driver. I may not act it, but I am enthusiastic about cars. People find different joys in cars whether it be racing, drifting, showing, cruising and just because there enthusiasm is different to mine doesn't make it any less worthy of my time.

To this end, I am dumbing down today's blog about the Subaru Impreza.

Once upon a time there were two farmers, Mr Subaru and Mr Mitsubishi. They were farming out in Japan when they got into an argument about who had the fastest tractor. Mr Mitsubishi said "I know how to settle this! We will enter the World Rally Championship!" Mr Subaru agreed. Mr Mitsubishi went and found the best technical minds in rallying and the best computer wizz kids in Japan together to form the team that would build his ultimate tractor, the Evo! Meanwhile Mr Subaru was working hard too! He found some five year old children with crayons and made them design the outside of what would become his ultimate tractor, the Impreza! He found an engine out of an old hovercraft that some monkeys from the local zoo fitted to his new tractor design. Mr Mitsubishi used top of the range computer software to select the best roll center location and suspension geometry for his Evo, while Mr Subaru packed up all the suspension parts into a box and threw it at his Impreza, hoping some would stick in roughly the right places.

When the day of the Rally came, Mr Mitsubishi's Evo was awesome but Mr Subaru's Impreza was somewhat lacking so he gave it to Prodrive to see if they could fix it. When Mr Prodrive finally stopped laughing and picked himself up of the floor, he turned some of Mr Subaru's tractors in to pretty decent rally cars. They were given to famous rally drivers to try to win the WRC, but the rest of the shit ones got called WRX's and put in Mr Subaru's showrooms so he could sell them to poor, unsuspecting members of the public, who thought they were buying a super car but, really they were getting a tractor with a nice badge.

***All the crap you see written here is Kelvin's opinion and not that of his associates, race team or marketing partners.***

My death, Love

Do you know what love is? Or how to tell when your in love? Do you really?

I do.

I can see you all sitting there now thinking "Do I? Am I really in love? Have I ever been in love? and what the hell would a promiscuous, long haired, melodramatic racing driver know about it anyway?"

I will tell you what love is as I can see the unsure amongst you are dying to know and I do love the look on peoples faces when they think they have become smarter!

Love, my dear readers, is giving someone other than yourself the power to destroy your life, your confidence, your self-esteem and generally make you feel worse about yourself than you could ever possibly manage on your own.

They can make you feel so bad you want to die. Indeed love is responsible for more deaths in the world than anything else! It is the most destructive force on the planet. More powerful (but closely linked) to its arch nemesis; hate and even stronger than McLelland's Seriously Strong Cheddar.

And they can do it with no effort. A word. A phone call. A look. An in-action. How about that? The act of literally doing nothing can be so painful, so hurtful it could drive someone over the edge.

So you think to yourself in quite a rational way; "Well, if they don't love me as much as I love them then I cannot go on living." It's stupid when you look on it objectively. There are of course many things to live for, I mean, who would pay your tax if you weren't here?

And you do go on living. Because suicide's a bitch.
"Stop cutting your arms!" my house mate screamed, "I've just washed the floor! Can't you kill yourself in the kitchen?"

"Sorry." I say, dabbing the blood up with my sock-coated foot as I head down the stairs.

"Oh no! Your not killing yourself in here!" greets me as I enter the kitchen, "And look at this gas bill! You and you failed suicide attempts! You make a mockery of self-annihilation! Go kill yourself in the bathroom. And do it quietly!"

The door to the bathroom is ajar, so it never occurs to me there might be someone in the shower as I enter the room with my bloody knife glistening under the fluorescent light.
My third house mate screams as I interrupt their nightly teeth brushing session. I chuckle at how much like the shower scene from Halloween this must look moments before screaming like a girl as my house mate stabs me in the eye with their toothbrush.

With my good eye I can see the remains of the other, still attached to the toothbrush as it is withdrawn from my skull. Blood is dripping off it and the nerve is still attaching it to my vacated eye socket. I can feel the blood running down my face, in to my mouth and I am thinking, "This must be the worse case of suicide ever. I can't even kill myself right."

My house mate screams "You bastard! You have got eyeball all over my toothbrush!"
"S-o-r" I cough in bloody spurts, "r-e-y"
"Don't speak!" My house mate shouts, "Your coughing blood all over the bathroom!"

I turn to leave but my absent eyeball, now shriveled and leaking its juices onto the blood stained floor, is still stuck to my house mates toothbrush. The nerve stretches, breaks and whips around hitting my poor housemate in the faces with a blood soaked slap.

"ARGHHH!" They scream in disgust and ram the tooth brush through my ribcage and into the broken heart that got me into this predicament in the first place. I look down with my one good eye and watch the blood spurt around the toothbrush in time with the beating of my heart. The spurts get less as the beating slows.

"yay," I think to myself, "I'm dying."

The bathroom goes black as the pain from my injures fades. But I carry the love that caused them to Hell with me.

That's not how I died by the way, I was just making a point. And my house mates in this world are the best and they would never try to kill me. Not with a toothbrush anyway.

THE MORAL!

Remember kids, love is dangerous. It could easily be you bleeding to death in your bathroom with only one eye and a toothbrush poking out of your chest.

Stick with drugs.



***All the crap you see written here is Kelvin's opinion and not that of his associates, race team or marketing partners.***