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Driving instructions on how to get to the Bright red Barga Telephone Box

(Coming from the A11 Pisa Lucca Firence Motorway)
Exit the A11 Motorway at Lucca Est - as you come off the slip road you will see McDonalds ahead of you. Follow the slip road, keeping McDonalds to your right, then quickly move over to the right hand lane – otherwise you will head back in a loop towards the motorway. Tip: if you see McDonalds on your left then it’s to late you are already heading back toward the motorway, so do a U-Turn at Pisa and then start reading these instructions from the beginning again.

Continue straight ahead. You will come to a small roundabout (if you look back you shouldn’t be able to see McDonalds anymore), stay in the left lane and continue straight, on your right you will see the Walls of Lucca. The Walls go all around the city, think of them as one enormous roundabout (circumference of about 4 km/ 2.5 miles). Continue travelling clockwise around the city walls following signs for Castelnuovo Garfangnana, Barga or Bagni di Lucca. Tip: If the walls are on your left then you are not following these instructions properly, but don’t worry it’s a roundabout so continue and sooner or later you will come across the signs for Castelnuovo Garfangnana, Barga or Bagni di Lucca.
Leaving Lucca, you will travel along a long straight road passing (on your right) a sexyshop and then a couple of car dealerships. Continue straight until you reach a large junction with a supermarket next to it. Halfway along the supermarket building you will see a sign to barga, so turn left over the river. After crossing the bridge follow the road to the right. Tip: don’t go straight on otherwise you will end up back on the coast (Near Viareggio) and will have to start following these directions from the start again.You will go through a series of four tunnels, after the tunnels, the road splits, take the road to the right which crosses a bridge continue following the signs to Castelnuovo /barga.

The river is now on your right, Note:if the river is on your left, then at the supermarket you went straight instead of left, but don’t worry just carry on going straight and at the next bridge cross over.

The river is on your right, so carry on going straight along the valley, you should pass the towns of Diecimo and Borgo a Mozzano. Continue for 20 km towards Castelnuovo G/Barga until you see a large blue building with a “K” on it.

Just after this building, follow the signs towards “Fornaci di barga”, hence take the bridge across the river, then go passed the Fornaci football stadium and continue straight until you come to a stop sign. In front of you is the Fornaci high street. Turn right and after 50 meters turn left towards Barga.

Follow the road up the hill and after a few km you will see the “most Scottish town in Italy” sign. If you continue along this road, on your right you will see the “Fosso” car park and castle walls, then a few more meters on your left is the new panoramic camper car park and after another 100 meters on your right is the Bright red Barga Telephone Box.

Girdle Wearing Classes.

I am a qualified girdle wearer.
I have the certificate to prove it.
I attended the classes by mistake.
I really wanted to learn how to wear girls, but the ad was misspelt.

I realised my mistake, but thought it might still be a good place to meet girls.
Unfortunately so did the other three blokes on the course.
Modern girls do not go to girdle wearing classes.
By the time I realised, I had already earned my certificate.

I was keen to put my new skills into practise.
I searched the net for Girdle wearing Jobs.
I discovered that American Footballers needed help in wearing girdles.
I went to the states and applied for the job.

The American girdle wearing union was a problem.
Therefore, I decided to join a club called “US Girdle wearers”.
Unfortunately, the “us” didn’t stand for United States.
One day I’ll tell you about my new certificate.

Euro 2008 Betting

So far my betting has not earned me much therefore I will be applying a more scientific approach. I asked 100 people taken at random. Who will win the Euro 2008, over 90% answered Italy. Now we all know that polls are not 100 percent correct but even allowing for an error rate of 5 percent, these figures state clearly that Italy is going to win.

Note: Data just in indicates that you shouldn’t bet on Italy if you live in one of the other European countries. Here is a breakdown of the surveys carried out in three other European countries.

France:- France to win 89%
Germany;. Germany to win 99%
Greece: Greece to win 95%

Statistically the chances of winning depends on where you place the bet, therefore I recommend travelling to each of these countries and placing a bet.


Latest Update: A few people have written in contesting my advice.

Unfortunately the rules of the competition state that only one team can win hence even if my calculations were correct the governing body of the game has wilfully alerted the natural outcome by defining some very un-statistical rules.

The data collected in Holland clearly stated that Holland would win and the data collected in Italy clearly stated that Italy would win.

Statistically there is absolutely no reason why the Italy/Holland match couldn’t have finished with both teams winning. According to my figures, and I am willing to publish the data, Italy should have won 4-3 for those watching in Italy and Holland should have won 3-0 for those watching in Holland. If you were watching in a neutral country then a draw was most likely.

Basically the rules of the competition don’t match reality. I suggest modifying the rules so that odd goals (1,3,5) counted double in your opponents home country and even goals (2,4,6) followed today’s rules. How would this have effected the Holland/Italy Game.

1. Holland scores.
In Holland the goal counts as 1 to holland. (1-0 to Holland)
In Italy the goal counts as 1 goal to Holland and 2 goals to Italy (2.1 to Italy)

2 Hollands second Goal would count as 1 goal to Holland (in both countries).
(2-0 in Holland) ( 2.2) in Italy.

3 Hollands third goal is odd therefore the final score would have been
In Holland (3-0 to Holland)
In Italy ( 4-3 to Italy)

Now, obviously Holland could have drawn in Italy had they been satisfied with a 2-0 win at home.

As you can see, the data states that today’s rules are not in harmony with what people want. Hence I suggest changing them.

Euro 2008 Gambling Guide.

A few days ago, a dishonest bookie was giving 1000000:1 odds that England would win Euro 2008. I knew it was impossible, but mathematically there was more chance of winning this than the lottery, so I placed a Euro on it. Don’t laugh, It’s true, there is a higher probability that a couple of teams would be disqualified and hence allow England in, than there is in winning the lotto.

Anyhow, the competition has started so I have lost my Euro, although to be fair the bookie has now raised the odds of England wining to 9000000:1 so maybe I’ll risk another Euro.

After last nights performance Italy’s chances are fast becoming less than England’s, at least England hasn't lost yet and rumours have it that Russia may be disqualified because they have also qualified for the Asian 2009 finals. The odds of Italy winning aren’t that good yet, so I won’t be betting on them until they loose their next game.

Large Round Pebbles To You As Well

I have spent the last few weekends carefully placing stones on top of each other.

If you place enough of them together, they form a wall.

When I got to six stones high the wall fell over.

I decided to build a variable height five stone tall wall.

To achieve variable height I used large stones for the left part of the wall and smaller stones for the right part of the wall.

The lower part of the wall is very useful for stepping over safely.

Variable angles were built into the design by using a wonky placement technique.

A friend of mine thought it was very unstable, uneven and crooked.

He obviously isn’t an artist.

My wall is a creative placement exercise.

My wall doesn’t and musn’t look like a bricklayer’s wall.

It’s more an artist’s wall.

It’s more a writer’s wall.

It’s more a politician’s wall.

It’s a Politically incorrect wall with structurally rebellious tendencies.

You mustn’t just look at it

You have to interpret it.

You have to critically review it

well, Very Large round Pebbles to you as well.

Non Smoking - Day 2 (PM)

Continued from This Morning

It is 14:00 here in France, I am still not smoking and Madame Joan has stopped singing and dancing. It all happened around 08:45 am. I was sitting in the corner of the courtyard watching Madame Joan blowing smoke circles, when she suddenly started coughing and spluttering really badly.

I thought she was a goner. I ran over to see if I could do anything, but by the time I got there, she was laying on the floor gasping for her last breath of air. I took a deep breath and started to give her the kiss of life. After a few seconds, I felt a hand pull hard on the back of my neck; this was followed by a very acute pain in my top lip. I pulled away. Yes, Madame Joan had got better.

She gave me a big toothless bloody grin and started humming “do you think I’m sexy…” I quickly realised what had happened and hastily plucked out her tooth before it totally perforated my upper lip.

I was just about to throw away the tooth when Madame Joan held out her hand. I was angry, but it was her last tooth, so I gently placed it in her palm. She said “Merci”, smiled and pointed to the pocket of her apron. Inside I could see a packet of cigarettes.

I thanked her; I could really do with a smoke. I helped her take the cigarette packet out of her apron pocket but when I opened it, inside were her other 31 teeth. I bravely held the top open whilst she popped in her last tooth, then I closed the lid and handed her the packet.

It is now 14:10 and somehow I cannot see myself smoking today. The association between cigarette packets and Madame Joan’s teeth has turned out to be a very good smoke deterrent. Oh, don’t worry about Madame Joan. Her apron pocket also contained a mobile phone. She phoned home and her older sister came by and picked her up.

I am going to spend the rest of the day holding an ice pack on my lip to stop the swelling. Now I know all this has contributed to me not smoking and I am grateful, but surely, there must be an easier way to give up smoking.

Still I am looking forward to tomorrow, her sister has promised to pop by and give me a lift into town.

Adventures of a Non-Smoking Smoker-Day 2 (AM)

Continued from Day 1

The main problem with going to sleep without having had a goodnight cigarette is that you really, really miss it. Many of you will be familiar with the sensations of an erotic dream. Well take that thought and apply it to a smooth slim gold tipped cigarette. Soon you will be surrounded by Marlboro Reds and Camel Lights, Vogue Blue Slims and Lucky Strikes.

The smoke disperses and you wake up in a sweat, your heart pounding, your head spinning and lips desperately pouting for that extraordinarily beautiful but unobtainable cigarette. As you can imagine, my first non-smoking night was somewhat restless.

There was a knock on the door, it was the old lady who had showed me the room, I let her in. "Hello my name is Madame Joan” she said in her perfectly French-English accent. I said “buonjour Madame Joan, where is the nearest place where I can buy some cigarettes.”

She replied “No smoking area, no smoking, no shops, no village, no nothing.” I tried to explain that they were for medical reasons, mainly hers if she didn’t tell me, but she wouldn’t budge.

Then without warning she raised her ankle length dress to just above her calf and said “do you find me sexy”. I just put it down to bad English and ignored her, but she persisted with showing me her ankles and asking me if I found her sexy. Listen Madame Joan, I don’t know what your trying to tell me but all I want is a cigarette. Maybe I would have found you sexy about 65 years and 31 teeth ago, when you were forty-something, now please tell me where the tobacconist is.

She started dancing around the room singing “If You Think I'm Sexy and you want my body..” God, I remember having trouble with Rod Stewart asking me that question in the late 70's. I tried to calm her down but she kept insisting, dam, I really didn’t need this on my second day of non-smoking.

I remembered the woman who had rented me the flat telling me something or other about a possible encounter with a non-smoking French lady. I had imagined a younger, toothier sort of encounter. Actually, I think she wrote something down about it in the rental contract.

Reading the small print in the contract shocked me even more that the old lady’s ankles. I was a sub-clause in a very complex and lurid real-estate deal. Apparently as part of the deposit on the property the old lady had been promised a Non-Smoking Toy Boy for a couple of weeks.

God, I never imagined myself as a toy boy, I thought I was passed it, must be one of those benefits in giving up smoking. What was I to do, I had signed the contract, but I didn’t really want to be a middle-aged toy boy. There was only one thing for it, I had to get hold of a cigarette and make void the non-smoking part of the toy boy clause.

Unfortunately, I was back to where I had started. In search of a cigarette, only this time it was for a worthwhile cause, or was I just looking for a justification to start smoking again. I looked at her ankles and decided that the stop smoking lobby would understand.

I didn’t need a whole cigarette for my plan to work so I made my way outside and started to walk methodically around the courtyard looking for decent length discarded cigarette buts. Regrettably I was in a no smoking, no shops, no village, no nothing area, I didn’t even find an indecent length one.

Madame Joan stood on the porch smiling, her lone tooth gleaming in the sunshine. Why doesn’t she go away and leave me alone, go home woman, I thought. Go home woman, umm, I wonder where she lives, maybe she doesn’t live here, maybe she has a phone, maybe she has some cigarettes, maybe she has a great, great, great, great granddaughter who smokes.

I looked at my watch it was only 8am. I still had a whole day to survive. Oh well best think positively, it was just a matter of time before her granddaughter turned up with some croissants, a loaf of French bread and two packs of Gauloise cigarettes.

Then the unexpected happened, Madame Joan looked me straight in the eye, popped a cigarette into her mouth, lit it, took a couple of drags, blew the smoke in my direction and started singing,
“If You Think I'm Sexy and you want a Ciggy, come on honey tell me so”.

Temptation was rife; there in front of my very eyes was everything I wanted. The first verse of the song passed through my mind.

She sits alone waiting for suggestions.
he's so nervous avoiding all the questions.
His lips are dry her heart is gently pounding.
don't you just know exactly what they're thinking.

Well I knew what I was thinking; I needed all the will power I could muster if I was to give up smoking, so I concentrated on her lone tooth and thought, “I’m going to keep stum and I Ain’t reaching out anywhere.”

I looked at my watch again; it was 8:10am. Yep, my second day of non-smoking was going to be tough.

Adventures of a Non-Smoking Smoker - Day 1

DAY 1

The decision had already been taken so as I raised my elbow and flicked my last fag end into the gutter a million happy smoked filled images passed through my mind, I was sad but at the same time proud of what I had done or more appropriately what I was intending to keep on not doing.

Only a few minutes had passed and I was already battling with the thought of not being able to do it again, this wasn’t a physical thing as I still had plenty of nicotine floating around my body to last at least another 30 minutes, this was psychological, I was starting to cave-in even before I had started or should I say stopped.

I had to do something drastic, I looked around and saw a taxi heading my way. I waved it down, jumped in and concentrated hard on the non smoking sign stuck on the back of the driver’s seat.

“Where to mate?” asked the driver, I thought for a minute and muttered the first non smoking destination I could think of, “the airport”. The taxi pulled up outside the airport, I paid and quickly made my way into the terminal building where large non smoking signs and armed police were very visible.

This was just the mental support I needed to help get me through this difficult first stage and as the armed policeman passed by I looked at the no-smoking sign then looked at the armed policeman, smiled and contemplated the notion that in the long term smoking kills but there’s no point getting shot for it now.

45 minutes had passed since my last fag end hit the gutter and although I had found a good method of coping with the mental pressures the nicotine was starting to run out and the physical effects starting to set in.

My hands started to tremble and I was becoming agitated, I tried concentrating on the armed policeman and the non smoking signs but it was no good, my will power was cracking and I needed something stronger to help get me through.

Luckily just as I was about to get up and pop outside for a cigarette the armed policeman I had been smiling at and a couple of his colleagues came over. I tried to explain that I was here for non smoking reasons; they nodded, smiled politely and accompanied me to a small non smoking room where I was body searched; luckily they didn’t find any cigarettes

After questioning me for a few hours they said that I could go but if I wasn’t catching a flight then I had to leave the airport. Although I was mad at the way a perfectly law abiding citizen had been treated I was grateful to them for having stopped me smoking for a few more hours.

I knew that outside the safety of a non smoking airport I couldn’t guarantee my actions so I headed straight to the bookings desk and asked for the cheapest ticket to a non smoking country. The young lady at the ticket counter said that there was no such thing as a non smoking country, although many countries, including this one, had banned smoking from public places such as bars, museums, public libraries, government buildings and most work places.

That wasn’t any good, I was already in a country that had banned smoking from public places, I needed a country where cigarettes were impossible to get; besides currently I’m unemployed, illiterate, don’t drink and never go to museums.

“You’re trying to give up smoking aren’t you luv, I gave up years ago” she said, then she looked me up and down and said “ I don’t know about non smoking counties but I’ve got a non smoking flat if you fancy going there, I’m of duty in 10 minutes.“

I was flabbergasted, I had given up smoking for only a few hours and already I was more attractive to women, maybe all those smoking facts were true after all and soon my breath will smell of roses, I’ll grow a few more inches, my skin will look younger and I’ll be able to make love for hours on end or at least without having to take cough sweets.

She was an experienced non smoker who knew what it meant giving up; I was susceptible and a little confused, was she offering to help me give up smoking or was she was trying to take advantage of my new, young, tall, fresh smelling body. I needed help to give up smoking so I decided to take the chance.

Alas after talking to her I realised it was all a sales pitch, she owned a flat in a non smoking complex in the south of France, miles away from anywhere, hence I wouldn’t be able to buy cigarettes. All of a sudden I didn’t feel quite so tall and considering the distance she was standing from me I started to wonder if six hours of interrogation in a small room had negated the aromatic benefits of non smoking.

Luckily, I was wrong; being an ex-smoker she was genuinely interested in helping me, she even confirmed my suspicions that I would have smelt and looked a lot worse if I hadn’t given up, this made me feel better, the non-smoking benefits were real! In fact she made me feel so good that I demanded that she let me use her non smoking flat for at least 4 weeks.

Gosh, was she organised, the next thing I knew I had been checked in and out of several places, including my bank account, my tailors, the local baths and gate number 23. I was non smoking in a south of France airport although I wasn’t sure which one.

Now my French isn’t very good, so maybe that’s why the passport officer reacted so badly when I told him that the motive of my visit was for smoking reasons. I was escorted to a small non smoking room where this time a Frenchman armed with a deadly garlic breath ( gosh I wish I still had my smokers breath to counteract it) interrogated me for several hours before letting me go. Again although I was mad at the way a perfectly law abiding visitor had been treated I was grateful to them for having stopped me smoking for a few more hours.

It had been more that 16 hours since my last cigarette, 12 of which had been spent in custody, I couldn’t go on this way. Pointless giving up smoking if you can’t enjoy life, especially now that I was a fresh breath sensation.

I looked around and to my horror there was a small smoking area at 50 meters from me. I quickly made my way out, jumped in a taxi and gave the driver the address of the non smoking flat.

After nearly three hours of driving the taxi pulled into the courtyard of what seemed like an old abandoned farmhouse. This must be it said the driver; the name of the area is right and there aren’t any other buildings in this area for miles, so it must be this one. As I got out an old woman appeared and begged me to follow her. I paid the taxi, got my luggage and followed her.

Just around the corner there was a very nicely renovated barn building, the old lady showed me in, gave me the front door key but before I had a chance to ask any questions, she had gone. Oh well, I’ll catch up with her later I thought. So there I was, in the middle of nowhere without any cigarettes and no way of getting any, dam I feel like a cigarette, oh well nothing for it but to go to bed and wait to see what the next non smoking day brings.

Investigation throughout the Nation.

Investigating into what we already know. Does it sound familiar, a mammoth investigation into something which everyone knows everything about and therefore the only possible conclusion of the investigation is that everyone knew everything about it and therefore as everyone knew everything what’s the point of an investigation especially as those investigating also knew everything about it even before the investigation begun.

But it wouldn’t look good making public what the investigators know after just a few days otherwise they would be accused of not having spent enough time investigating and therefore their conclusions were a little hurried and obviously politically biased, so to give it more credence they need to make it last longer but just how long nobody knows so usually they make it last as long as the initial budget.

But because the findings from the investigation are so important then other funds are assigned so that the investigation can continue …. Until that is a new investigation is needed into something even more well know and important.

So the funds are diverted from the initial investigation to the new investigation on the basis that everything is already know and therefore there’s no point wasting more money investigating into something which everyone knows everything about anyhow. This allows investigators of the old investigation to officially conclude that the investigation was inconclusive and start a new investigation into the new something which everyone already knows everything about.

Conclusion:
The main point of investigations is so that those people who everyone knew everything about can claim that there has been a major investigation lasting various years and nothing has come out so therefore those who knew everything may have been wrong and didn’t really know anything.

So why have an investigation.
Normally a wrong is committed and an investigation is needed to find the culprits. But if it’s so obvious who the culprits are then an inconclusive investigation is needed to prove their innocence.