Worst Albums of the year 2011

This kind of falls into a couple of distinctly different categories -those albums which are not terrible but a bit dull, those which are disappointing because they've been made by bands who are usually ok and those which are frankly, poo.

In the "not terrible but a bit dull" section first up, it's the Subways.
Their album "Money and Celebrity" can best be summed up as a party album for people who like rock. It's not all bad -indeed, the first single from the album " We don't need money to have a good time" is quite good, but everything else on the album sounds the same to the point where they all meld into one whiny singalong mess. Not good.
In the next category are Kasabian, which I have to say came as a bit of a surprise.
To my mind at least, Kasabian had been steadily improving, each album showing some progression -but "Velociraptor!" is a massive leap backwards. It also features some of the worst lyrics I've ever heard. The album comes across as an incoherent mess. Must do better lads.

Ok, now we're into the "Poo" section.
Normally, in any other year I could think of, Gold Cobra would have run away with the worst album of the year award, for reasons I -and quite a lot of the rest of the web- have discussed before (hint ; He stands at the front and wears a cap).
Sorry Fred, this year you've been blown away in the crap stakes.

Enter Metallica and Lou Reed with "Lulu".
A double album, no less.

I'm not a Metallica fan, but I can't imagine many of their fanbase will be happy with this. Kirk Hammett's signature guitar solos are largely missing, and bassist Rob Trujillo seems to have been on holiday at the time of recording, so the whole thing is driven along by James Hetfield's chugging rythmn guitar. Terrific. Never mind though, here comes Super Lars and his pet Snare Drum to save the day!
Um, no. Lars' answer to the assault on your ears is to hit everything very hard. All the time. Thanks.
Lou mumbles and stumbles his way through the lyrics at one point shouting "JACK" for what seems like forever. He also pretends to be a girl in one song. No, I'm not making it up.
In what appears to be a desperate attempt to distract the listener, James Hetfield tries to convince us that he's a table. Yes, you read that correctly. Listen

Sadly, and remarkably, these are the better efforts on an album that's best quickly forgotten.

Lou Reed and Metallica yesterday, being poo.

Short thoughts.

The London Olympics -even though they are still some 8 and a bit months away- are managing to piss me off.
To be fair, the olympics always piss me off -what seems like 24 hour coverage of skinny men running in circles for hours at a time, not really my thing- but it's never been this bad before.
Every time an ad arrives on the TV whatever the product is, it's suddenly become the official 2012 Olympic version of it's former self.
So far this morning I've spotted the Panasonic Smart Viera tv - the official tv of the olympic games, Cadburys Dairy Milk - the official tooth rotter of London 2012 and a couple of others as well.
I understand the need for corporate sponsorship, but does everything have to have a commercial tie-in? Really?
Tampax, the official feminine hygiene product of the 2012 Olympic Games.

Scott Weiland, erstwhile singer, professional substance abuser and frontman for the Stone Temple Pilots -who were alright- and Velvet revolver -who were shit- has a new album out. Nothing remarkable about that you might think, and, in a sense, you're right. But Scott has released a Christmas album full of yuletide favourites like White Christmas and such. Are things really that bad Scott?
Is this a desperate attempt to cash in on a seasonal event or a new career direction as a lounge singer? Take a guess.

It's generally around this time of year I do my top 10 albums of the year, but I'm going to hold it off until the new Black Keys album lands through my letterbox. It's due out on December 6th but hopefully I'll get it a bit before that.
If you've no idea who I'm talking about, have a listen to this -it's a great video too.

Short thoughts.

It's been a while since I did one of these so I thought I would treat you all to a recap of some of the stranger stories that I've come across on my travels around the interwebs.

Is your dog going bald? It is? Well, help is at hand.

Ruth Regina of Miami has started http://www.wigglesdogwigs.com/ and it's...it's......different.
So if you're German Shepherd is going a little thin on top or you just want to see your Pitbull with dreadlocks -and lets face it, who doesn't?- Ruth can help. On a side note, Chi has just bitten me. Coincidence? Unlikely.

Could be worse. Maybe.

A British marathon runner has admitted to getting on a bus part way round his course-but only after he was challenged by event organisers. Around the 20 mile mark Rob Sloan decided he was "A bit tired" and boarded the vehicle only to hop off a few miles later and hide in a wooded area of the course. Sadly for Rob, a number of onlookers spotted him as he rejoined the race in 3rd place. I suspect this is part of a plan for next years London Olympics, so if Usain Bolt is suddenly abducted by aliens remember I told you about this conspiracy first.

"26 miles? That's a really long way"

In Edinburgh the emergency services had to be called to a curry eating contest after competitors started "writhing on the floor, vomiting and farting", sorry,  "fainting". Whilst writhing on the floor vomiting and fainting -or farting, for that matter- are common scenes played out in pretty much all of Scotland's hostelrys, this time they called an ambulance.

The restaurant owner has said he'll tone down the spicyness in future.

"Forget the ambulance call the Gas Board"

"A Swan Dive into the Asphalt"

I know what you're thinking, "That's a strange title for a blog post" - and yes, it is, but allow me to explain. It's a line from the song "Swan Dive" by Hed (PE) and it seems relevant to the -somewhat strange- ending of this post. Bear with me, it'll get better. A bit. Maybe.

Anyway, on the Sunday just gone, my wife, my daughter Gabi and myself had decided to head all the way down to sunny Stirling to check out what is shortly to be her hometown for the next four years or so whilst she's at University (college to you guys across the Atlantic), so we packed up the car and dropped the dog off at my other daughters' on the way. More about the dog later.
So, after what seemed about 58 hours we arrived in Stirling and it's actually really nice. It's the usual mix of traditional stone built houses and modern glass and steel edifices, but with thankfully not too much of the modern that it dominates. All in all, it's a thoroughly pleasant little city. Mid afternoon arrived and we decided to head home and collect Chi from my daughters'. so far, so good. My plan was to stay in the car whilst my wife went up to get Chi, but apparently, both Chi and her mum were so desperate to see me -hey, I'm very popular with Staffys- that they both bolted out of the door. Still, no problem, everything is fine. Chi's mum isn't on the lead, but she's used to that and sprints up to me and gently savages my arm -as she always does- and I'm nearly kissed to death -however, at this point in suddenly aware that my daughter is struggling to hold on to Chi -she's incredibly powerful- and then, all of a sudden, she's loose.
She sprints straight past me. I don't have a hope of catching her. This is one of those times when time seems to stand still - she takes a sudden right turn onto the road, a car swerves and misses her- out of my peripheral vision I can see a large white van  and imagine the meeting of van and dog - and before I have a chance to think I've dived onto the road -goalkeeper style- and caught the dog in my left hand. What a relief.
It was at this point I remembered the van. It missed my head by about a foot. If I was any shorter, I wouldn't have caught the dog, much taller and I probably wouldn't be writing this.
My wife wasn't overly happy -I may be understating things here- and began telling me about the thousands of people who die each year attempting to save their pets from peril. I understand her, of course I do, but I could no more of let Chi get hit by a van than I could her, my children or Hope.
Anyway, both myself and the dog are in severe trouble but never mind, we're both still about.

Chi, in big trouble, yesterday. And today.

State of Origin

Yes, I know its several days after the fact but I don't care.

We lost. They won. The same as it's been for 6 long -really long- years now.
There is however more reason for optimism next year than there has been for quite a while. Firstly, on the back of what may have been the worst SOO performance ever -although Justin Hodges' debut runs it close- Anthony Minichiello won't be there. I'm not sure what Ricky Stuart was thinking including him in the first place, does he really not rate Hayne that much as a fullback? Even if he doesn't, wouldn't Brett Stewart have been the better option?
Yes, yes he would.
There are a few other blues whose spots will be under severe pressure too - Mark Gasnier, Ben Creagh and Mitchell "I've got a tattoo of my own name on my arm" Pearce. In fact, if I was the coach, the only people guaranteed their spot in the 17 would be Gallen, Lewis, Hayne, Uate, Soward and Scott.
Next year NSW will be stronger, Queensland will be weaker. At least that's what I'm telling myself.

Meh

The what?

Just a short post, the SOO one isn't ready yet, sorry.

This made me snigger quite a lot.

"'ello, ello, ello, is that mayonnaise sir? I'm afraid you're going to have to come with me"

Short thoughts

Nathan Van Someren, a not particularly well known participant in Australia's 2nd best team sport -AFL- was sent off on saturday. Why am I telling you this? Surely being sent of in the rufty-tufty world of Aussie Rules can't be that rare? Well, no. No it isn't.  But this guy was sent off for having a dangerous haircut. I'm not even making it up. hahahaha

Here's the offending do in all it's dangerousness.

Nathan yesterday, being dangerous.

A man from Brighton has been fined £80 by some particularly joyless bastard from the local council for allowing his terrier to skateboard around the streets of the town -again, I'm not making this up- He was fined for the dog being "Out of control". What, couldn't it land a kickflip properly? Too much rotation on a 360? No, apparently his Lakeland Terrier was a "Risk" because 2 women tripped over his skateboard. Sorry, but if you can't get out of the way of a dog on a skateboard, you should be worrying about other shit before reporting the canine and it's owner to the council.

Not the dog in question, yesterday.

The last week saw the death of Severiano Ballesteros, who I'm shocked to learn, was widely considered "The Greatest" amongst his peers. I'm no golf fan, but this guy's death struck a chord with me for a couple of reasons. Firstly, we're the same age -and this has made me think about my own mortality really for the first time- and secondly, the man simply transcended his sport. Even people who have no interest in golf -like me- knew who he was and had nothing bad to say about him -and I have plenty of bad things to say about almost everyone.

Most sports have a star who becomes bigger than the game -Babe Ruth, Michael Jordan, Don Bradman- in golf it was Seve.

Wedding? You should have publicised it more.

Apparently, there's some sort of Royal wedding malarkey -don't you just love that word?- taking place quite soon. Strangely, it's hardly been mentioned on the news, in the papers on the web, anywhere at all really. Because of the remarkably low profile being taken by the UK -and I'm sure every other country in the entire world- I thought that you might have been missing out on some of the frankly wonderful collectibles and assorted shit,  sorry, memorabilia that is available to the discerning simpleton consumer.

How about a nice commemorative mug? With the wrong Prince on it.

A tasteful crockery set, with what appears to be a mini FA Cup in it?

Anyone feeling hungry? Have a Royal Wedding Pizza

 Or perhaps best of all, and possibly the most fitting piece of tat I've found -I give you Royal Wedding Tea Bags. Brilliant.

But despite all this........erm........stuff, most peoples attitudes to the wedding and indeed the Royal family in general are best summed up by this plate. Oh well, no knighthood for me.

Yeah, I know.

I've been neglecting you, my loyal readers -and I apologise for that- but at least I have a good reason for not poting so far this month.
I have acquired a Playstation 3 and some games and have been playing with it and them rather than doing this. Ok, so maybe it's not a good reason for ignoring you, but it is the reason.
What am I going to do to make it up to you -apart from dragging my arse away from Gran Turismo more often- well, read on.

Imagine you're a 15 year old German farm girl and the thing you want most in the world is a horse -reasonable enough, right?- what would you do if your parents said "no" to the acquisition of said equine? That's right, you'd train one of the dairy herd to be a showjumper.

Shoes

I have a complaint. Actually, I have several -some of which are quite nasty, but you don't want to know about that- this complaint is about shoes.
This post was brought about by complete and total envy of the amount of different styles and types available to women compared to men. We have two styles, trainers or shoes -in brown, black or white. Wow, you guys have a million different styles in every shade imaginable, and I want to know why there's such great disparity in the ranges. Do the manufacturers think men don't care? Maybe most of us don't, but I do -I want better shoes, now!

My daughter bought these recently, you wouldn't believe how jealous I am.

Cage the Elephant - Thank you, Happy birthday

This album is a fraud. No, really, it is. I mean, it's good -really good- but it sounds like Cage the Elephant have raided my CD collection and got stuck in the section where the Pixies, Nirvana and a little bit of the Melvins are kept, because if you threw those 3 bands into a pot and boiled them (bear with me, this slightly clunky analogy will finish soon) you'd end up with CtE.
60% Pixies, 35% Nirvana, just a dash of Melvins, perfect.

Anyway, on to the album itself. It's good -better than their much ballyhoo'd debut cut- and tracks like "Aberdeen" and "Shake me Down" are impossibly catchy, whilst "Japanese Buffalo" might be the best track I've heard this year (that isn't written by PJ Harvey). However "Indy Kids seems too contrived with it's musings about "being just like you" and doesn't sit well with the rest of the album, but the hits here far outweight the misses, and this would be a good addition to any collection.

If you're going to rip someone off, make sure it's someone good.

Just .......WTF. Part 2, 371.

Most famous faces never get to see their biopics, as there seems to be some kind of unwritten Hollywood rule that the star in question is dead before he or she is immortalised on the silver screen. Yes, I know -you're sitting thinking "What the hell is he wittering on about?" - but you'll never guess who has their screen epic about to hit the big screen. Actually, you probably know already as it's been advertised pretty much non-stop for about a week or so now.

Yes, it's the child with hair that looks like I cut it -with a strimmer- the tiny antichrist himself, Dustbin Beaver.
Sorry, Justin Bieber.

Now, is it just me but doesn't a film chronicling the lifetime achievements of a 16 year old seem a tad premature? I mean, he's only been well known for a year or so -and I'm guessing that he's not Johnny Cash in his off screen/stage life- so what's the incentive to go to the film?  What's that, there is no incentive and it's a cynical marketing ploy to separate young girls from their pocket money? Oh, that's ok then.

There's no homosexual subtext to this picture, none whatsoever.

Short thoughts

As I mentioned in my "bored" post below, last week my wife and daughter went to see a car and my sister in laws' newly arrived twins. As I anticipated, the twins -Robert and Gemma- were, in fact, exceedingly cute. There's a shock, all babies are cute. Well almost all babies. A few years back when our girls were babies themselves there was this unfortunate kid called William and boy, cute was the last word you'd use to describe him. If you'd painted the top of his head green people would've thought it was a watermelon, it was that massive. Anyway I digress. The car she went to look at was a grey Ford Focus, the car that'll be here soon is a green Renault Megane. OK. Close enough.

A green Renault Megane, yesterday

The football transfer window came to a close and in a totally unexpected turn of events, Liverpool fans proved themselves to be utter tools. Again. I know, it's a terrible shock and totally out of character, but there you go.

Instead of celebrating the fact they'd just signed Uruguay's second best striker to replace Spain's second best striker, they showed their displeasure in a more....... incendiary manner. Mind, you, their mood may not have been helped by the fact they'd just spent £35 million on a stupid looking geordie with a crap haircut and a prison record longer than Lee Bowyers'.

"Cry-y-ying, Over You...."

And in Queensland, which has been through a bit of a rough time lately -the terrible floods which cost a lot of lives have barely subsided, the locals predilection for wearing cowboy hats in public- they may have finally gotten a bit of a break with the news that Cyclone Yasi missed the two largest population centres in it's path -Townsville and Cairns- and slammed in to the coastline between the two. It's about time something went right up there. Now, if we can just sort out the cowboy hat thing.......

Cyclone Yasi yesterday, robbing Queenslanders of their hats

I'm bored

I'm bored. Bored I tell you. Bored bored bored.

It's saturday lunch time-ish and I'm here all alone -all alone except for the dog - who is asleep, and the cat - who is out doing whatever cats do all day, chasing birds or something, I don't know - My wife and daughter are off looking at a car and then going to Edinburgh to see my sister in laws new twin babies. Aah, sweet. The babies, not the Focus-although that's not bad either as it goes-but me, I'm bored.
I have nothing to do -well nothing that I want to do anyway- there's almost 1000 TV channels at my disposal, and there's nothing that I want to watch on any of them. Whether that's an indictment of me or the current state of TV programming in the UK, well, you guys can decide. Actually, it seems that around 700 out of the 1000 are either showing football or a cookery show and the rest seem to be comprised of Britains Greatest Celebrity Bathroom Disasters 8 or something similar, so maybe I don't have as much choice as I thought. Ho hum.
I could read I suppose -but I don't have anything I haven't already read. Damn.

I think I'll wake the dog up and go for a walk with her.

PS. I'm quite bored you know.

Short thoughts

Foxes, pretty to look at but dangerous and not to be trusted. That's what country folk say, and perhaps they're right because a couple of day ago in Belarus a fox hunter was shot. By a fox. "A wounded fox shot its would be killer in the Grodno region of Belarus by pulling the trigger on the hunter's gun as the pair scuffled after the man tried to finish the animal off with the butt of the rifle."  

He tried to finish it off with the butt of the rifle? Good on the fox for fighting back then.

From the file marked "And you thought you'd heard the last of that" comes a story about the worlds most famous cephalopod. Yes, it's the return of Paul the Octopus! Sort of. His former home in Germany has unveiled plans for a -and I shit you not- "Paul corner where there will be a 6 foot statue of Paul atop a football with a see through centre section to display a golden urn containg his ashes" I'm flabbergasted, really. Not overly tasteful in my opinion, but there you go.

Not Paul, yesterday

Lastly in this roundup of peculiar animal stories from the darkest corners of the web comes news from Boston that a cat has been called for jury service. The cats owner wrote to Suffolk superior crown court explaining that the cat was, well, in fact a cat, but the court wrote back insisting that Mr. Tabby Sal attend the court as scheduled in March. The website for the US judicial system states that "Jurors are not expected to speak perfect English" That's ok then.

"Guilty"

 

....And for that reason, I'm out.

Just a few days until Christmas then, this will probably be my last post of the year.
Firstly, I'd like to wish all of you out there a happy Christmas and good new year, and I hope you get whatever it is you really desire the most as your christmas gift. I'd also like to say "Thank you" to the followers and readers of my blogs, I've no idea why you read my ramblings - but I'm very grateful that you do.
Finally, -and I realize that this isn't really the thing to do- but when you're full of food and a bit drunk on Christmas Day, try and have a bit of a think about those who aren't as lucky as you.

Have a good time and stay safe everyone, Fizz. xx

Short thoughts

Just in case anyone out there is unaware that the UK is currently in the midst of some quite cold weather, here's proof that even way down south in the -comparably-tropical-to-here- parts of the country that not all is as it should be.
Yesterday the RSPCA was called on to free a swan that had somehow managed to get its feet frozen to a driveway in London, a cow which had fallen over in Leighton Buzzard, and a horse trapped in 4 feet of frozen water in Lincolnshire. Oh, and 200 people have died in a landslide in Colombia, but that's nowhere near as newsworthy as a few cold animals, obviously.

"Where's Colombia?"

The world's 2nd most stupid football club has sacked their manager. The manager that got them back into top flight football on a shoestring budget. The manager that currently has them sitting reasonably comfortably around the middle of the premiership, the manager  that the players came out and pledged their support to. It's fine sacking a manager if the owner wants to, that's his choice. The unsavoury thing here is that the clearly held off giving Hughton a new contract to save themselves a few quid in severance payments. Classy as ever.

A pair of typical geordies

Now, not normally much occurring on Radio 4 -or any radio channel for that matter- but when a man with the startlingly appropriate name of James Naughtie makes an on-air gaffe concerning the Culture Secretary -a man called Jeremy Hunt, well, that get's my attention.

"Jeremy what?"

Press "play" http://www.guardian.co.uk/media/audio/2010/dec/06/james-naughtie-jeremy-hunt-radio-4

Even more shorter-than-normal thoughts

Hi all. I've been nearly dead for a while (Ebola again) and consequently haven't had the time to do anything of substance. Normal service will be resumed on my next post.

There are now just 3,200 tigers left in the wild. Three of the nine subspecies (the Bali, Javan and Caspian tigers) are extinct; a fourth, the South China, is also lost to the wild, with a few dozen specimens surviving in captivity. Tigers' survival is not guaranteed even in the most protected places: four died in a north Indian reserve named after Corbett earlier this year. The national animal of India, Nepal, Bangladesh, Malaysia and North and South Korea; the majestic creature at the heart of eastern and western culture from traditional Chinese myths to evil Shere Khan in the Jungle Book and cuddly Tigger in Winnie the Pooh; the big cat that sells us beer, petrol and other human essentials such as sugar-frosted breakfast cereal, is teetering on the very brink of extinction.
On November 21, various heads of state and assorted other diplomats are going to convene in St Petersburg at the snappily titled Tiger Summit, which has been widely billed as the last chance to save the big cat from extinction. Some conservationists feel the participants are remote bureaucrats with no experience of the on-the-ground realities. Others are refusing to go at all. Tiger experts are agreed on the prime, simple cause of its disappearance: it is being massacred for a lucrative illegal trade in traditional Chinese medicine. So, as we know why it's disappearing, surely the answer to this problem is a simple one? I'm going to answer my own question here. The answer is money, as it is to everything like this. In this case, money for more game wardens to patrol areas where the poachers operate.
Simple, I've saved the tiger. All we have to do now is wait and see if anyone else wants to do it.

"They're grrrrrrreat"

BBC weatherman Tomasz Schafernaker (nice name) has caused a major furore in the home counties by having the downright brass neck to present the weather whilst -and you might want to sit down before reading this- wearing a jumper and jeans. I know, it's unbelievable, the end of days.

Public Enemy No1

And in a move which headline writers everywhere would love, cash strapped Manchester City are after Porto's man mountain striker Hulk. Hulk's not so keen though, maybe he's been to Manchester before, eh?

He's probably pressing a car full of attractive but badly acting teenagers effortlessly above his head right now.

"Raaaaaaargh! Hulk no go City"

More short thoughts

First off, apologies for another mishmash-not-really-about-anything- type post, but my plans were changed by my daughter. I was going to do a lengthy and incredibly interesting (stop laughing) run down of my top 10 albums of the year, but she has insisted I wait until later on in the month which is when MCR release their new cut. Which is going to be brilliant, apparently. Hmmm.

A woman has been reunited with her diamond ring - two years after flushing it down the loo and hiring a waste firm to sift through sewage to find it.

After accidentally losing the ring, Joan Speirs paid the company to put a camera into the cesspit tank.
When that didn't work, the company filtered the 12,000 gallons of waste and even sent a worker into the tank with a metal detector, but to no avail.
But by an amazing co-incidence, an employee from the same small family firm stumbled across the ring more than two years later at a sewage works.
"Two of the smaller diamonds had fallen out but apart from that, it was just in need of a good clean".

I bet it was.

"Found it!"

Keeping up with the highbrow nature of todays post, we now move onto rugby league, more specifically, Joel Monaghan.

For those of you who don't know who I'm talking about, Mr. Monaghan is a centre/winger forthe Canberra Raiders and sometimes New South Wales and, in times of need, Australia. So, not a bad player then? Well no, and despite his physical handicaps -he's ginger- he's done pretty well for himself.

Up until yesterday, that is.

Yesterday, young Joel was all over Twitter. Well, not him exactly, a picture of him. A picture of Joel being ....erm......"pleasured". By a dog.

Yes, by a dog.

Joel has since come out and said exactly what you'd expect him to say - "I was drunk......I wasn't thinking.......I'm sorry...." Blah blah blah. He's also said the act was simulated. It wasn't -I've seen the pic (and thanks for sending me that-no christmas card for you this year)I wish I hadn't seen it though, anyone got any mind bleach?

There's no truth in the rumour that he's been charged with terrierism. Or that he's interested in joining the Bulldogs.

"Woof"

In other sport related news, Liverpool FC Brad Pitt a-like Dirk Kuyt's night ended in ...carnage when a police horse accidentally sat on his car while herding Napoli fans away from Anfield. Haha, that's a shame. And David Beckham has denied reports that he is interested in taking American citizenship. In the Daily Mail's report of the story, however, they spend the first eight paragraphs talking about the possibility of him becoming American and how terrible it would be without mentioning, at least until paragraph nine, that he said yesterday: "I have no intention of becoming a US citizen. I'm English and proud to be – that will never change."

 Not American.

Short thoughts

A week after an 18 foot high Tsunami struck the north of the country -wiping out many villages- a volcano has erupted in Indonesia, adding to their malaise. What do these guys have to do to get a break?
No doubt someone will point out that God moves in mysterious ways. Too mysterious for me, that's for sure.

Indonesia, yesterday

A transsexual called Mikki Nicholson has won the British Scrabble Championship.

Here's Mikki with her trophy.

Nice hair

Worst Tranny ever. Sort out your stubble mate, you wouldn't convince a paralytic sailor.


Alcohol is more dangerous than heroin, ecstasy and crack.

Researchers have rated alcohol the most dangerous substance based on the overall dangers to the individual and society as a whole. 

The work was led by Professor David Nutt, (appropriately enough) the former government drugs adviser who was sacked for criticising the then Labour government's decision to upgrade cannabis from class C to class B.

His team analysed how addictive a drug is and how it harms the human body as well as other factors like environmental and socio-economic costs, such as health care, social services, and prison.

They found heroin, crack cocaine and methamphetamine, or crystal meth, to be the most lethal to individuals.

When considering their wider social effects, alcohol, heroin and crack cocaine were the most dangerous.

But overall, alcohol outranked all other substances, followed by heroin and crack cocaine. Marijuana, ecstasy and LSD scored far lower.

Marking substances from zero to 100 based on their criteria, alcohol scored 72 overall, compared to 55 for heroin and 54 for crack.

Other drugs examined included: crystal meth (33), cocaine (27), tobacco (26), amphetamine/speed (23), cannabis (20), GHB (18), ketamine (15), methadone (13), ecstasy (9), anabolic steroids (9), LSD (7), buprenorphine (6) and magic mushrooms (5). 

So don't have a glass of chablis or rioja with your dinner tonight, have some crack instead. Or maybe drop a tab of acid. It's ok, Professor Nutt said so.

Nicotine, Valium, Vicodin, Marijuana, Ecstasy and Alcohol

C-c-c-c-c-cocaine

 

And finally a former Marxist rebel who was jailed and tortured during Brazil's military dictatorship last night became the first female president in her country's history. Well done Dilma Rousseff, I bet Obama is overjoyed at that result.

 

Dilma yesterday, shortly before winning the Brazilian pull a funny face championship