Elms_Venray.flv

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

The pizza conspiracy.

Now, I am not one to complain as you well know. And as far as paranoid goes, I am so far from it, I can barely see it! However, I have noticed recently that our pizzas are being sabotaged.

It all started when I ordered a Chicken Sizzler and ended up with a Mighty Meaty. Not the most horrendous of errors, I grant you, but suspicious non the less.

For those of you not familiar with the Domino's menu, I shall explain. The Chicken Sizzler consists of an Italian bread circle smothered with a tomato sauce that Domino's like to describe as "secret". It is then littered with the carcass of a brutally murdered battery hen, caked in cheese (That's one of your "five a day") and topped of with chopped chillies to mask any taste the chicken might have left.

The Mighty Meaty on the other hand is more of a quiz than a meal, as you try to guess what noise each of the random chunks of animal might have made when they were alive. Was it a "Moo"? Or maybe a "Baa", perhaps even a "Woof". Domino's even try to make this task harder by turning some of the animals into sausages and then thinly slicing them before using them to garnish your pizza. Other bits look like the animal was shot with a 12 gauge and then the bloody chunks scraped off the wall and straight into the oven.

The point is, both of these pizzas are excellent in there own right. But there is a time and a place for each, you see? Sometimes you just want to kill chickens and sometimes you want to kill every-bloody-thing in the barnyard.

On this day I only wanted to kill chickens, however the man who misread my email was a bit overzealous with the bolt gun and I ended up with the contents of Noah's Ark splattered around my pizza.

It was nice, but I couldn't help feeling like I was eating innocently slaughtered animals, while the guilty ones were still crammed in cages, being force fed and pecking each other out of frustration.

But, I am a cool customer. So, like the time I watched a toddler fall over on an frozen lake, I just let it slide.

Last week, worried that those battery chickens were getting it all their own way, a couple of friends and I ordered three Chicken Sizzlers. That should be enough to wipe out a fair chunk of chickens and, indeed it was. It was closer inspection of the pizza that led us (mainly me) to believe that someone at Domino's was out to get us. One of the pizzas contained a pudding. That's right, my friends, some sawn-off little poo stick had put pineapple on one of the pizzas. What sort of sick, depraved person would do such a thing? A saboteur, that's who. Some sneaky Russian ex KGB cossack bastard.

Or do you think it's the cat? Could our cat have someone working on the inside of my favorite eatery?

Or the caterpillars! They have been quiet for months, but I saw one in the workshop today. They could be phoning up, saying they are me and changing the orders!

Or my bed sheet! Could my bed sheet be in cohorts with a man that provides my food? This could be disastrous!

What if it is something to do with all the black cups that my house mate bought home the other day? Yes they have Star Wars on them, but black cups are controlled by aliens! I keep telling people this, but it is like no-one listens! You will all be sorry when the aliens take over your cup cupboard! Mark these words!

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

My bed sheet is possessed.

As if life wasn't hard enough, with caterpillars in the bathroom, ghosts on the stairs, no spoons, no money and a love life that largely resembles a board game, it now appears I have a possessed bed sheet.

The bed sheet in question, isn't actually mine. It was lent to me on a permanent basis by my house mate.

I say house mate, she is actually the head of our household. She is our illustrious leader who must be obeyed.

Feeling the instigation of some kind of pecking order, my other house mates and I, all vied for the post of second in command. She reviewed our applications for the job and, after some careful deliberation, bought a cat and gave the position to him.

The cat now rules us with a rod of iron fists. he makes us open doors and windows and fetch kitty treats from the kitchen. If we don't do his bidding, he tells his master and she then makes us stand on our head in the bath until we drown. We have lost many a house mate like this.

I myself, have drowned several times since living here.

I have even tried to lead a rebellion! Several times I have left the cat around the neighbours house with a note around his neck saying "Adopt me!" but they keep sending him back.

With a note saying "No."

Last week I put a tin of Whiskers on the far side of the busy main road outside the front of our house, to coax him into the traffic. But he wouldn't cross.

Only yesterday, during his daily "sit on a box" exercise routine, I tried to push him down the stairs. My house mates stopped me, fearing the repercussions from the great one. Too many house mates have lost their lives from bath drownings lately.

Sad sad business. What was I talking about? Ah yes, this bed sheet.

It is a cunning device with elasticated corners which allow it to grip the mattress. Saves all that "tucking in" nonsense. It should be easier to make fit than an epileptic in a disco.

It, however, isn't.

Being human, or at least having a passing resemblance, I only have two hands. A mattress has four corners. Don't just take my word for it, go and look at your one now.

This means that, at best, I can only fit half the bed sheet at a time. I then have to stretch the other half over the mattress before the first half pings off like a cheap pair of C&A knickers and shoots across the room like some kind of intercontinental bed sheet missile.

Just the other day I was making my bed with the window open. My bed sheet shot out of the window, decapitated the postman, crashed into a Ryanair flight ended up in the fast lane of the M23.

When I do finally tame the bed sheet and get into bed, I generally sleep like a log. I really tired one. But it is at this point that strange things start to happen.

Despite the fact that I lie perfectly still when I am in bed, as any of my former lovers will testify, my bed sheet moves around on its own.

My bed sheet tries to kill me in my sleep.

First the corners unhook and then it wraps itself around me until I look like some kind of sausage roll. Except with me instead of a sausage. And a bed sheet instead of the roll bit. A sort of "Me bed sheet". That doesn't really make any sense, does it. What did you mention sausage rolls for, anyway? We was going fine before you said that. This isn't a bloody buffet you know.

The bed sheet wraps itself around me whilst I sleep and tries to smother me. Fortunately, I always wake up in time before it finally chokes me to death.

I only realised it was trying to kill me recently. Now it knows that I have worked out its devilish plan, I think it is going to up its game. I spot it giving me evil looks when I get dressed in the morning.

I am so scared, I might start sleeping on the sofa.

Why do all these things try to get me? My life is so difficult.

fml.

Think about that if your having a bad day.

At least your bed sheet isn't trying to kill you.

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

Cold, Cat and Spoon

I am ill.

I have a cold.

Except it is much more serious than that.

This is the kind of cold that wiped out the dinosaurs.

Not many people know that the dinosaurs were wiped out by a cold, but they were. Trust me. I was there. Seriously, have you ever had a bad cold before? It is like having death tap dancing on your chest. Massaging your throat with his scythe...

Sometime I want to saw my own head off to make it stop, but just as I get hold of the saw, a coughing fit starts and I end up chopping chunks out of the kitchen and dismembering the cat.

This raises all sorts of important questions. Why is there a saw in the kitchen? The answer is simple. When we order a crusty loaf, we don't ponce about. Why is there a cat in the kitchen? Well, we ran out of crusty loaf.

Cats do not make very good bread though. Firstly, you need to try and get them in the bread bin. This is not a precision job, as a cat has a surprisingly large leg span when you are trying to get it in a hole that it doesn't want to go in to.

Removing the cat from the bread bin is far easier, if slightly more dangerous. A cat who has been kept captive in a bread bin for a while is liable to pounce at whoever opens the bread bin and give them a lively slap around the face with a claw. The trick here is to get a second person to open the bread bin from behind and, as the cat pounces, give it a fair old swing with a cricket bat. That usually takes the fight out of them.

Chopping your cat into slices can be very difficult if the cat is moving about, and you wouldn't want to nick your finger, now, would you? If your cat is still wriggling, give it another slap with the cricket bat. Now, when you chop your cat, the middle bits tend to run out everywhere. Some people like to freeze there cat first to stop this happening, but I find, if you go quick enough, you can get the slices to a plate without too much escaping.

If it is a cat sandwich that you are making, then the next question to arise is, what filling? For this, I like to use more cat. Think about it for a moment, the cat is already out, if you wanted anything else you would have to go to the fridge or the cupboard. Making sense now, see?

Lop yourself off another slice of cat for the filling and then top it off with a nice slice of cat!

The purrrrrfect Cat Sandwich! Or Catwich as I like to call it.

If you didn't freeze your cat, I recommend a spoon to eat it with.

Not that I would know what it is like to eat a cat with a spoon.

I bet you are you dying to know how many spoons we have in our house. Have a guess. No, you're wrong. The correct answer is eight. That is one each, if there were eight people living here. Or two each if there were four people living here. But there isn't. There are five people living here. and that means one of us must go without spoons.

Probably me.

Life is always taking away my spoons. Everyone else in the entire world has two spoons and I have none. I am the boy with no spoons.

I am exactly two spoons short of a full set of spoons.

Did I tell you about my cold?

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

What if Motorsport was Facebook?

I think it your Notifications might look something like this...

Dale Earnhardt Jnr joined the group: Jeff Gordon is gay!

Jean Todt iced Ron Dennis in Mafia Wars and wants you to help dispose of the body.

Max Mosley likes this.

Bernie Ecclestone is now friends with Jean Todt, Michael Shumacher and Tony Soprano.

Kelvin "Rowdy" Hassell likes: When you go into a corner so fast that the handbrake starts to look like a sensible option on Likelicious. Like this link.

Jason Plato joined the group: I can't overtake another car without hitting it.

Fabrizio Giovanardi, Yvan Muller and James Thompson like this.

Robby Gordon and Denny Hamlin joined the group: I can't overtake another car without hitting it.

Vicky Butler Henderson wrote on Danica Patrick's wall:

"Please retire! You are making women racing drivers look bad!"

Ellen Lohr, Desiré Wilson, Sarah Fisher, Katherine Legge, Susie Stoddart and Vanina Ickx like this.

David Brabham updated his profile.

David Brabham changed his place of work from ALMS to Unemployed.

Yvan Muller wrote on Alain Prost's wall

"Just think, you would still be coming second if I raced in Andros Trophy!"

Tony Stewart, Juan Pablo Montoya and Tim Harvey added Mcdonald's, Burger King and Subway to their interests.

Tony Stewart, Juan Pablo Montoya and Tim Harvey joined the goup: I train for motorsport by lifting burgers and walking to the fridge.

Max Mosley changed his relationship status to: It's complicated.

Autosport refused Stock Car Racing's friend request

Autosport refused Drifting's friend request

Joe Blogs wrote on Autosport's wall

"I race in a tiny championship that nobody has heard of, you should write more about me and less about Formula One!"

167 people like this.

MSA Marshals and 6174 friends joined the group: Autosport International is a rip-off and I refuse to go.

You have been invited to the event: Autosport International

MSA Marshals and 6174 friends are attending

Attending: Yes No Maybe

Jimmy Johnson and Sebastian Loeb changed their occupation from Racing driver to Racing God.

The BRDC mugged Bernie Ecclestone in Mafia Wars and need you to sell his watch to pay for the British Grand Prix.

Bernie Ecclestone has turned Donington Park into a field in Farmville.

Danica Patrick likes Media Attention on Likelicious. Like this link.

Motorsport News updated his status:

"The voice of British Motorsport just says "World Rally Championship" over and over again!"

Motorsport News changed his occupation from: Making a newspaper about rallying. to: Making a newspaper about rallying but pretending it isn't.

Max Mosley is in a relationship with Prostitutes dressed as Nazis

Bernie Ecclestone and Michael Schumacher like this

Dale Earnhardt Jnr, Kyle Petty, Danica Patrick, David Coulthard, Ralph Shumacher and Jeremy Clarkson were invited to join the group: I couldn't drive a greasy stick up a pigs arse!

Ben Collins updated his profile.

Ben Collins changed his occupation from: The Stig to: Unemployed

Nigel Mansell wrote on Tiff Needell's wall

"I still blame you for my accident at Donington in the Mondeo."

Tiff Needell "wtf?"

Nigel Mansell "You made me hit the bridge."

Tiff Needell "YOU WERE ALREADY CRASHING, MORON!"

78 people like this

Nigel Mansell "I would have caught it."

Write a comment...

Richard Hammond left the group: Jet Cars are safer than flying!

Colin Mcrae left the group: Flying is safer than rallying!

Ferrari left the group Michael Schumacher is a hero!

Ferrari joined the group Michael Schumacher is an unsportsmanlike cheating kraut!

Ayrton Senna, Damon Hill, David Coulthard and Mika Hakkinen also joined.

Older posts. Edit options.

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

The Truth About Eggplants

With the Daytona 500 just around the corner and everyone talking about the new points system and the resurfaced track, I thought now would be a good time to explain Eggplants.

Firstly we should dispel the myth that the Eggplant was created in the Swiss Hadron Collider on the 19th of September 2007, during a lunch time experiment in which two scientist replaced Proton beams with an egg and a potato. Although an Eggplant was created, it is not the first evidence of the Eggplant.

Nor is it a plant of the family Nightshade, native to Nepal, India, Bangladesh, Pakistan and Sri Lanka.

The Eggplant's story begins one cold winter in 1844 when a potato, two cucumbers and a green pepper, raped a chicken. 9 months later A curious cross between an egg and a plant popped out of the poor chicken's ringpiece. The Eggplant was born.

The following year the Eggplant was propelled into notoriety by inventing the rubber band. However fame and fortune were not good bedfellows for this strange new creation and the Eggplant quickly fell from grace when it was found drunk in the British Museum and broke The Portland Vase.

Months later, the Eggplant had gone completely mad, burning down most of Pittsburgh and destroying a suspension bridge in Great Yarmouth that killed around 80 people. A warrant was put out for the Eggplants arrest but the Police were unable to locate it's whereabouts. Some thought that the Eggplant was killed in the bridge incident but others believe it just went into hiding.

As years went by, more experiments took place to see if any other Egg/Plant combinations were possible. The most successful came in the early 1900s when scientists working on behalf of the Nazi party in Berlin successfully took fertilized eggs of some of the best scientific minds in history and combined them with the body of the most basic vegetable. The result was a super-intelligent vegetable . The project, codenamed "Hawking" was sent to find the original Eggplant. However, Hawking suffered with a lack of communication skills, and was unable to relay it's new found information. Fortunately, the Nazis had ways of making him talk. They added a computer to Hawking, making him the first OmniCyborg. Hawking told them that the Eggplant was indeed, still at large and, furthermore, had begun to reproduce.

Hawking was sent to find the origins of the universe and nothing was heard of the original Eggplant again until 1939. The Eggplant was aggrieved on hearing about the new Hawking Eggplant and was determined to make the Nazis pay. On September 1st 1939 the Eggplant disguised itself as the entire German army and invaded Poland, starting the deadliest conflict in human history.

It is believed that the Eggplant went into hiding again for the duration of the war. Nothing is documented on Eggplants during this time. However, after the war there were multiple sightings. Too many to all be one Eggplant. It was as Hawkin had hypothesised  these were the offspring of the original Eggplant. It transpired the Eggplant had been sleeping with women all across Germany and getting them pregnant.

For years this was excepted as the way that Eggplants were made. Some right wing loonies tried to claim they grow in the ground like normal plants, but this was disproved when the internet began to show us German women copulating and giving birth to Eggplants.

Since the invention of the Internet, Sexual intercourse with a German woman has been excepted as the regular and most common way to grow an Eggplant. The World Wide Web is littered with websites that clearly depict German women giving birth to Eggplants.

It is using educational websites such as these, that has led me to research this subject. I have also learnt that College girls like to relax by having sex with each other after a strenuous pillow fight, and that a shocking amount of housewives answer the door to plumbers, in their underwear.

What is more shocking is that the plumbers turn up within minutes of being called. I have never known a plumber take less than three days to get to me after I call. Even in an emergency. I have put this down to a issue of race. My plumber is Caucasian, where as all the plumbers depicted on the websites are African American.

As Eggplants have become more widespread throughout the world, people have taken to eating them. Eggplants are fairly easy to cook and can be boiled, scrambled, fried or poached. Poaching Eggplants is not recommended as it is considered poor form on the part of the poacher. It is far more acceptable to find your own German woman and create your own Eggplants.

Now, I know what you are thinking!

You are wondering what happens if you plant an Eggplant in the ground!

Well, I shall tell you that what happens is most peculiar. An Eggplant that is planted, fed and watered regularly, will grow into a Chicken Tree. A Chicken Tree grows to a height of about 8 feet and sprouts dead chickens from it's branches. The chickens that grow on the Chicken Tree differ from the regular chickens because they contain no meat. Chicken Tree chickens are now widely available to the food industry and are used in the making of vegetarian and vegan meals.

So there you have it, the wonderful Eggplant. Bastard, inventor, murderer, sex aid, bigamist and concocter of vegan foods.

You learn something new everyday.

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