Tag Archives: BA

Mass Effect?

So there I was, clearing out the bathroom cupboard, or rather the shelf with all my gubbins on it, when what should I find? No, not that packet of three bought when I was 16 (more in hope than expectation). They expired years ago.

It was a Lynx gift set. Must’ve been a Christmas gift as it’s not something I’d usually buy. Lynx, every teenage boys first stab at smelling sophisticated. “The Lynx Effect” isn’t that girls suddenly fall at your feet, knickers down and legs akimbo, no. It’s that impenetrable fug of toxic fumes left in the bathroom after it’s been liberally applied to the armpit. Stuff not even the German High Command would’ve sanctioned in 1915 goes into every can Lynx. The secret of where Saddam’s WMDs ended up? Look no further than the Lynx laboratory. He sold all his recipes to them. In a few months time, Lynx Persia will be released in his honour. Free moustache with every purchase.

Not that Lynx wearers are the worst culprits out there. There is a certain corner of female society that believe a bath in a bottle of perfume is somehow alluring. You know the ones, there’s one in every office. Leaves a vapour trail behind her that is almost in the visible spectrum. They get men, not by flirtatious behaviours and the power of personality, but by overpowering their senses, causing them to short out just long enough to be ensnared.

The only good news gentlemen is this, you can usually smell them coming and you can always tell where they’ve been, but beware, for many are now becoming cunning, and are starting their attacks from down wind.


It would seem the union representing BA Cabin Crew is trying to go out of it’s way to lose public sympathy, even before the strike action begins. If reports are to be believed, they’ve taken the iconic ‘US Marines on Iwo Jima’ photograph of 1945 and photo shopped it to show cabin staff raising the union banner. Hmmm, fair enough, it was US Marines in a campaign that Britain had little part in, but, given the amount of transatlantic business BA do, and how revered this image is over in America, it’s not great PR for anyone.

I’m not a union member, and I’m not a BA employee, in fact I’ve never even flown with them, but I can’t help but wonder if these Cabin Crew will be happy to win their point of principle yet end up jobless as they bring an already struggling airline to it’s knees.

As the fishermen are learning, you can’t keep hauling the fish from the seas and expect there to be more there next time.


So Canada’s ladies won the most protracted and pointless of the Winter Olympic events, the womens hockey. The fact that there only ever were two countries any good at it, and there are still only two countries any good at it somewhat leaves the identity of the finalists a foregone conclusion. If womens hockey is to remain an Olympic sport, and it will if only for reasons of sexual equality, it needs a revamp.

Canada and the USA should play each other in a best of five or best of seven series to decide the gold medal. The rest of the teams can play in a round robin format for the bronze. If nothing else, the 18-0 style results would disappear. It may also help the lesser countries improve without being demoralised twice a tournament.

On the men’s side, NHL Gruppenfuhrer, Gary Bettman, has done nothing to quell speculation that these will be the last games where NHL players will be involved. This would just be the latest in a long line of Bettman gaffes. The World Cup is no more, the World Championships suffer from being held at the same time as the NHL playoffs. People want to see the best players representing their national teams. The FIFA World Cup would be a whole other event if the squads were selected from non-league clubs.

The Olympics require a two week shutdown once every four years. It’s not that much of an imposition. The players like it, the fans like it, so lets keep it.


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Looking from a window above

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my travel agent gave to me,
Twelve mincing stewards
Eleven missing cases
Ten inflight meals
Nine check-in desks closed
Eight planes a-grounded
Seven baggage handlers
Six bendy bus drivers
Fiiiiive hour delays
Four miles to the gate
Three spare seats
Two cancelled tickets
And a BA cabin crew strike.



It’s not quite Christmas time, but it is that time of year when houses in every town turn into some sort of celebration of all that is Las Vegas. As someone with an aversion to tinsel and the assorted fripperies of yuletide decoration, I quite frankly, can’t see the point. This isn’t just bah-humbuggery though. (Well, maybe a little bit).

I’d like to know where all the carbon footprint fascists are. It’s all very well attacking those who like to use their cars, or take flights, or import their foodstuffs from Asia, but the amount of light, heat and electricity wasted on these homages to Blackpool never merits a mention.

These people delude themselves into thinking they are celebrities in their community as they painstakingly drape their homes in bulbs, making sure each one works. (How do they do that by the way? The tree light phenomenon is well know, yet it doesn’t seem to affect this lot). Let’s not forget the inflatable Santa and the Santa figure that spends all day and all night climbing up and down a rope dangling from the roof.

Round our way there are a couple of houses in competition with each other. Each year adding more bulbs, baubles and tat in an attempt to out do the other. Given they are now outputting more light than the sun, and are warming the air at an equally powerful rate I worry for the safety of the neighbourhood kids.

In these days of carbon emissions, global warming and Copenhagen walkouts shouldn’t we be taking these peoples fuses away?

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