The lack of use of sniffer Badgers in the modern police force.

There are two questions that Raging horse would like to put forward to the modern police force. The first is why everyone who wants to join them has to go insane at their local tanning shop to make them look like a member of so called minority groups. The second revolves around, why after all these years have the police kept the use of dogs in the police force when badgers are a lot more cost effective and are generally doing nothing in their spare time at the time of writing.

 There look cooler, are camouflaged when crossing roads and a damn site more vicious, imagine the confusion when an escaped convict comes across a new police badger wearing the same colours to loll him into a false sense of security.

 They have bigger noses than dogs, so therefore they must be able to train them as better sniffer badgers, than sniffer dogs. They can easily work a night shift without falling asleep (ideal night watch guards).

Permanent Markers-The Smell of Heaven!

 If there’s one thing that convinces this atheist that there might be a god it's the gift of Permanent Markers, or more to the point, the smell of Permanent marker fumes.

 To this point the B-team has yet to come across someone on their travel that doesn’t like the smell of a good fresh permanent marker on a fresh winter morning. We are also yet to find someone who doesn't like to spend the following hour after their marker pen fix, floating with the pixies and singing cumbya ma lord!! With a hippy acoustic and a shit load of flowers (damn my vivid imagination again).

 This has led me-"Raging Horse" to put forward my idea of a new bottled perfume of the stinky stuff for the Ladies out there that want constant attention. The stuff of legends, my new invention is to be called "Stickler for Staedler" and is set to take the world by storm despite being named after a crap German outfit of misfits-please forgive me Churchill if your up there!!! The product is set for release as soon as the B-team comes across a millionaire who likes to get high. If you know any that fancy a dabble give us a shout.

Abortion… Those stem cells aren’t gonna harvest themselves

If you ask a raging, hairy hippie feminist about her views on abortion... you are an idiot. That’s not a can of worms you want to open.

"I didn't mean to put my hand into the wood chipper. It never occurred to me that it would hurt!"

Lucky for us the awesome power of the internet isn't available up trees. Unlucky that leg wax, razor blades and shampoo are also not available. The lack of personal hygiene really makes any potent message delivered in a naked protest laughable when their spokeswoman is "sunshine" the She-ape. I’m going to write it down as 'penis envy' that drives them to it.

 "But what if the child you aborted grew up to be the next daVinci or Beethoven?"

Hat hair, what a pain in the Arsenal!

If there's one thing that the onset of winter brings to the huddling and freezing population of Britain, it's the use of caps, beanies, Stetsons, helmets and other such vehicles of distributing hat hair.

 Hats were originally invented as a way of showing what class of family you were from, but what would happen if midway through the day lord McDougal of Scotland decided to offload the thing. Your left with a Duke looking like a go-faster stripe has been added right round his head therefore ruining his reputation.

 I think hair is weak, it gives in to pressure and forms the shape of a hat no problem, retreats, then I’m pretty sure it's impossible to pursued the damn stuff to rid itself of the line of defence until you give it a nice relaxing wash and dry. A monumental pain in the arse, I’m sure you’ll all agree - Hair is a bit like the French, on the outside it looks alright, then at the least little bit of pressure from a rival army (hats united) it retreats into a big bundle of mess with no structure.

The Magical Mystery of the Pot Noodle Soup (lack of it!!!!)

There are Hundreds of different things that could make the world a better place and one of those is if Golden Wonder would get off their arses and create what could be the next greatest invention since van Gogh created the light bulb. A soup that is identical to the stuff you’re left with at the end of a Pot Noodle. It sits there all thick and rich with it's glad rags on with those colourful herbs and spices, looking you in the eye with a come to Raging horse look on it's face (or is that just me). You can feel the lovely fat striking through your veins. This is what should be known as the eighth wonder of the world.

 Imagine instead of sending a thousand bottles of boring water and a shit load of rice and other stuff everyone over here uses to prop up their broken cupboards to Africa, what better than sending a ton of pot noodle soup mix and a dozen of battery powered kettles. Those kids would be fat in no time and a damn site happier with it. Africans saved by the wonderful wonder soup, yey for the Pot Noodle kids.

Porn… Not as good as it seems.

As a heterosexual and self professed 'manly man' I enjoy my pornography. Since I was a young boy I have had access to pornography through the chance finding of my father’s porn cache to the later discovery of the internet. It’s always been there and despite all the things you read on this website, I still believe I’ve turned out fairly 'well rounded'. I don’t have any weird sexual habits or hang-ups, and I haven’t worn out my penis through extreme hand friction. So as a connoisseur of porn I am campaigning to make it better.

 First of all I’d like to tackle the Issue of woman watching porn. It’s not really an issue. Woman don't watch porn for enjoyment. They watch it with their men, and enjoy it with them, but they don't whip out a copy of 'donkey boys 3' when their bored and start giving themselves a damn good seeing to. It’s a myth. Woman watch porn for research, to see how certain things are done and to find out about new things.

Death Sells

One of the main regrets of people who are struck by disease and illnesses that they are shot down in their prime. That back in the day they wouldn’t have lived this long, but instead they would have died the honourable death in battle. Like a samurai.

So being the great man I am, I have decided to offer a service allowing the diseased, the elderly and the mentally infirm the chance to fight and die an honourable death serving a higher purpose. This purpose will be a cash prize for the winning team that will be distributed among the warrior’s family or friends.

 This event will take place on a large battleground encompassing a few building scattered throughout as well as a town in the middle. Each team will start at opposite ends and slowly make their way to the middle. Think of it as dangerous paintball for the ill and elderly.

Imagine the show when a pale cancer victim summons up the last of his strength to slay the last of the elderly archers using a broadsword, shortly before being slain himself by a yellow man with kidney problems. All the while a man with a crossbow snipes people from the church window.

Fascist State's Rule…With an Iron Fist

I was watching the very fine movie 'Demolition Man' the other day, with the rubber faced Stallone and the very respectable Bollock, when Stallone was talking about the chip in his hand. "All this fascist crap makes me sick" he spat. "Yeah, stick it to the man!" I thought. "Trying to control you!” Those bastards made swearing and pornography illegal, and violent crime and murder and rape and theft and drugs and... Hold on... The more you think about it, the police state in demolition man really does make sense. Most of it at least.

 The only reason I never wanted a police state is because if I ever did commit a crime is the fear that I would be caught. That I'd have no chance of getting away with it. Having been the victim of crime myself, I can’t understand why I thought this way. I have no intention of committing any of these crimes. It’s like I was protecting the people who can’t be bothered to work for a living, or people who believe violent assault is funny. The laws are there for a reason so if I break them I should be sentenced accordingly.

Chain Pubs-Anyone for the same pint, same meal and same dumb Scally serving?

 Hello people, this week Raging Horse has decided its time to rant and rave about one of the worse enemies of the B-Team and any other half decent drinker. These common places popping up round Britain at the expense of our local pubs are known as the dreaded "Chain Establishments".

 Basically a place where one man and his dog are no longer welcome, replace a pie for a Poisson and replace a bar stool for a comfy chair.

For those of you that have noticed the gradual culling of our beloved drinking hovels and the way in which those rich basterdo's are taking over like a swarm of alien beings armed with pound signs in their eyes, this article should get the blood boiling and the beer flowing.

It's heading towards the state in which you can not find a proper British pint of beer for neither love nor money. The war cry from supporters of these dreaded places namely "Il have a pint of Foster’s" is currently keeping "Raging Horse" and "Iron Fist" awake at night and I’m guessing a lot of fellow drinkers out there. I mean you can't beat a lovely pint of Australian Lager brewed in a back street factory of the Uk. We sent prisoners over there; they send an even worse punishment back!! Those Aussies have definitely got their heads screwed on lol.

Edinburgh Festival…. Not just for tourists

The Edinburgh festival is a magical time in Scotland. A time when obnoxious English and American tourists frolic hand in hand with quaint Scottish villagers while street entertainers from around the globe use their talents to delight and amaze the slack jawed and wide eyed visitors. So as part of my 'Scottish villager outreach program', I grabbed the nearest English woman I could find and started frolicking hand in hand down the street.

 Surprisingly, this is only the second time I have been to the festival in all my years growing up in Scotland, so this year seeing a clown on a unicycle, a Korean man with a coat hanger on his head (with the original name of hanger man) balance on briefcase whilst juggling blunt knifes or even a street comedian spin yo yo's about, was quite fun. But if you want to see something good you usually have to pay for it... Which brings me to the paid shows I saw this year.

Women drivers-THE SILENT ASSASSINS

 When you see a Nissan Micra doing a mighty impression of a screeching duck walk with the hand eye co-ordination of a one legged clog dancer, the only expected outcome is that some fool has let his wife behind the wheel.

 Not only do they continue to put diesel in your brand new 2.0 liter v6, they have improve the look of the poor beast by hanging two big luminous dice off the wing mirror. Therefore converting what was a black panther into a small Siamese cat. The equivalent of cutting it's testicles off then covering the wound with a brightly coloured flower and a bunch of grapes.

 Seriously women drivers are (and 90% will back me up on this providing the wife isn’t holding a bread knife within reasonable distance) the only species that can manage to remind you three times in five minutes that someone’s crossing the road in the next two miles and then use trees and houses as vivid simple guidelines of where the roads laid out when they take to the wheel. Why else do most women refuse to drive when it gets dark or when snow falls?

 Please tell me if I’m mistaken on this one but I’m currently campaigning for the introduction of concords return to do small flights around city centers. Now you may ask why? The answer is simple- ANYONE THATS SEEN AN OLD WOMEN TRYING TO PARRALLEL PARK A FORD MONDEO WOULD REALISE IT WOULD ACTUALLY SAVE TIME AND SPACE!

Graveyards… A Criminal Waste of Space

I was taking the long walk into uni yesterday past the graveyard. And like many graveyards, it’s a hangout for muggers, rapists, heroin addicts and 'misunderstood' teens with their pale faces and fat girlfriends, when I had a thought. One of many that day. With all the people dieing in Liverpool from poor diet and gang violence, soon the graveyard will be full. This land is already surrounded by houses so you can’t extend it. So you start a new graveyard on the outskirts of Liverpool... But when the town expands soon that graveyard will have the same problem. So you keep building graveyards until the whole country is one big graveyard.

The land that the graveyard occupies is prime real estate but who the hell wants to live in a house built on a graveyard? Unless there is another war and Liverpool gets bombed to shit again, that land will forever remain unoccupied except for people who died many years ago.

So what do we do about it? As a temporary solution I suggest that we bury people in between older graves. Thus practically doubling the number of people we can squeeze into the yard. Also, coinciding with that, the government can start a tasteful advertising campaign to encourage people to have their loved ones cremated....

 Soothing voice: "Why bury them in the ground in an empty graveyard only to be eaten by worms and have their graves desecrated by drunks, when they can live in an urn right next to you.... It will be like they never left!"

Woman… The Only Sure Path to Self Destruction

This is a picture of me upon the moral high ground. I seem to spend so much time up there that I decided to build myself a castle to keep me warm. It may be good up there but it can get cold and lonely. Well at least it doesn't have that inconvenience of flooding 'New Orleans' style and hey, the sewage doesn't run up hill.

 Recently I have had the unfortunate experience of yet another break-up that wasn't my fault. Oh how I missed hearing the standard "It just happened" and the never old "I was drunk, I didn't know what I was doing". The Joy I felt upon welcoming these old friends back into my life was indescribable.

Hell, I've been drunk many times. So drunk I slept on the street near my door cause I couldn't find it, and I have never cheated...Maybe that’s why I live alone in my castle of solitude.

Religion... The Greatest Comic Ever Written

I hate organised religion... I can't stand it. I do not want to let Jesus into my life. Why would people knock on my door with the very noble intention of trying to save my soul from eternal damnation in hell? Why would I go to my local church for a ‘Faith Lift’? Why would I want to go to a rock concert with no drugs, no drink and no bad language of any kind!!!

After listening to Christian hip hop I came to the conclusion that I will never do it again. With lyrics like "Don't treat woman like objects you fool" you can see why. That is not what hip hop is about! Women are objects, and I’ll treat them as such. Fool!

Class? I Should Start A Fucking Charm School

Now you may believe that class has something to do with money, and that I'm being a snob by discluding half of the female population of the world, but I assure you it hasn't.

Class is something you either have or have not and I firmly believe it. Living in Liverpool I am bombarded with this shit everyday. All doing the things listed below. Is it any wonder I prey on naive virgins with rich parents?

 I like a woman with class. I don't deny it. When I see a girl lacking class I’m completely turned off. I don't care how 'up for it' they are or how 'animal like' they are in the sack. Without class my beast stays firmly in its cage. So good news, if you are one of these girls. Here is some advice.

1) Don't yell to your friends half way up the road... If you really have to yell to get their attention, DON'T under any circumstances; continue the conversation by yelling without making an effort to walk closer to the other person. No one wants to hear your conversation shouted back and forth from different ends of the road.

The O.C… A Documentary about sexual frustration and perversions of the rich and famous... or Teens... I forget which

I was going to write this piece in the style of an over dramatic teen in the throws of teenage hormonal angst. Unfortunately because of all the masturbation and acne I was distracted. It seems that even though I am just out of my teens, I have no wish to return to that place. Hair where there was no hair before, the lust of a thousand dogs humping your leg and spontaneous erections in class...

So then why did I watch 13 episodes of the O.C. back-to-back? I believe that just about every character in this show is fundamentally unlikeable. Take the problems of a regular dramatic teenager and then multiply that by about say... a hundred million dollars and then you have it.

Ah, the problems of the rich and spoiled.

 The show does have some redeeming features however. All of the characters are good looking (more on that later), the storylines are very dramatic, there is a fist fight in almost every episode and its one of the few American shows that doesn't use copious amounts of canned laughter when there is a funny part 'cause god forbid I’d miss a joke or forget to laugh.

Die Hard… A modest review of an excellent film

“Die Hard...The movie which spawned a trilogy”. This was before making three of every film was standard Hollywood practice. I can almost picture the fat executives sitting around in their fortress of creative oppression, discussing the surprise blockbusters indie movies have made on the unsuspecting public.

"I have an idea" says a quivering voice, belonging to the man at the back. He is new at this company, or has recently been promoted. You can tell this, because his belt still has the holes punched in it by the shop. Unlike the other executives, whose wives punched the extra notches on their belts. The wives who sit at home, frustrated that the 'up-and-coming hunk' they once married now resembles Jabba the Hut. The wives who hire a gardener just so they can have sex, then starve their husbands of the one thing they married them for. Revenge is sweet.

Condoms… The Slippery Killer

Condoms... The slippery killer. I am afraid the casualty here is mood or its other name, atmosphere. Let me paint you a semi erotic picture.

 You are in bed with your girl, perhaps kissing her neck. You are both completely naked having dispensed with clothes at the door. You slide your hand up her thigh towards your goal. Touching, teasing and delicately probing whilst she inexpertly tugs and wrenches your penis into submission. All of a sudden you roll away from her and spring your rubber amigo from its hiding place. You hold it up to look at it making sure you don't inadvertently put the damn thing on backwards, and then you put it on.

"What is she doing this whole time?" you may ask... perhaps she is kissing your neck or helping in some sort of way? Perhaps she is keeping herself 'warmed up' for you? What is more likely for me is that she is sitting there tracing her eyes down my back, trying to find a direct path from the top to the bottom that isn't stopped by large clumps of hair.

Hypocrisy Runs Riot… Friend Avoidance Courses

 Earlier today I had the misfortune of meeting a person who I have not spoken to for a long time. There is probably a reason for that. I only had the intention of making small talk until we both can think of a semi plausible excuse to leave. Things were going well until he decided to bring out the insults. Playful in their delivery with an undercurrent of something deeper. Perhaps its repressed homosexuality, with a side serving of sexual deviance.

So armed with this knowledge I proceeded to point out one of his many flaws. He became all defensive.

 "But you don't even know me!" he retorted

 Nice work asshole. "That's exactly what you just did. Insulting me without knowing me"

 "Ah yes, but I never said I wasn't a hypocrite"

 "That’s very true my simple minded friend. I never took the time to say I’m not a kiddie fiddling mountain gorilla. It’s just assumed"

 Well that’s one person I won’t be stopping in the street to talk to anymore.

Athletes…

Now it’s a well known fact that black men out perform ol' whitey at most sports. Just watch the Olympics for proof. Why? You may ask... Perhaps it’s because they come from a poorer background so they try harder, thus making it out of poverty. Perhaps it’s because years of slavery has lowered the white mans ability to do physical tasks by ourselves, thus making our species genetically weaker over the years to the point where we cannot properly compete for Olympic superiority.

One alternative theory has been offered however... "Craig, the reason they are so fit is because they spend their entire time back home running away from lions and tigers". This theory doesn't sound entirely accurate unless you replace the words "lions and tigers" with the phrase "men with guns". I know everyone over exaggerates the hardships they faced growing up... Hell an entire genre of music was founded on top of it. It’s called rap. And they only mention how hard it was for them as a gateway to talk about how much money they have now they are 'megastars'. The 'megastars' being in commas as 'superstars' wasn't enough. Soon there will be some 'gigastars'!!. Like fucking transformers all over again.

 "I'm a Megatron!! All cower before me"

"Oh yeah, well I have evolved into a Gigatron!!! Suck my left Nad"

"Well wait until I call upon my Tetrabeast!!! Then I shall break your jaw with my nads of steel..."