Duffy the so called Welsh Soul "Singer" can fuck right off... I mean, what the fuck is that sorry excuse for singing on the advert she's on?!

Seriously, if AIDS had a sound, it would be her voice in that advert... it's a cross between cum gargling and the noise of poor, defenceless puppies being kicked to death...

So I've not posted for a while, but there's a good number of reasons, the first of which ties in with the post title.

So what's BUPA got to do with anything I hear you wonder out of politeness because you've read this far and you figure you might as well see what it's all about. So here's the thing: I've had cancer. No joke, no exaggeration: I had bladder cancer. It's a mild cancer, easily treated and the long term prognosis is excellent so this isn't a "goodbye cruel world" post or owt like that, so why "Fuck BUPA"?

Didn't take the bastards long to catch up with Dr Hock MD. His Nostradamus-like predictions on future products have been gazumpted by the marketing genius of Procter (Procter!!!! - Police Acadamy 2) & Gamble (errmm, Gamble!!! - Bruce's Play Your Cards Right). With time on our side and with a whole month of mulling behind us, let us all mumble the Bender's mantra together:

"Let's get ready to commence preparations for rumbling"