The doctor told me to walk ten miles every day

Say what you like about the Torygraph, but it does do some amusing little stories. Stuck in a view of the world that was popular in 1827, although not correct even then, it continues to delight and amuse. Much like Dave’s blog, apart from the delight and amuse bit.

First, it tells us that British men are the ideal partners.
Experts claim that women are more attracted to men if they believe they will help out with household chores and make an equal contribution towards childcare.
I can certainly claim to have made an equal contribution towards childcare in my house, and as for chores, well, ladies, let me know if you need your artefacts polishing.

Then there is a little story about a chap who bought a bit of coloured wood (WHAT THE FUCK FOR?) from a car boot sale, only to find out later that it was a 1300 year old relic from the Crusades. Well, you dull wassock, it’s too late to take it back now and get a new one, isn’t it? This is why I buy useless bits of coloured wood only from Harrods. They have a very generous returns policy, and they deliver.

What really caught my eye (disclaimer: this story is attributed to ‘scientists’* – please help yourself to the salt) was an article that talked about all of humanity outside of Africa being descended from a tribe of a couple of hundred people who crossed the Red Sea from Africa about 70,000 years ago. We are all brothers and sisters you see. Not only did these brave folk cross the Red Sea, but engaged in some industrial grade shagging in order to produce all of us.

They took a very long time to reach Britain, because of a virulent campaign by the Daily Mail to keep them out. (“Who”, I hear you ask, “was around to read the Mail before human beings came along?”, “Well”, I hear me reply, “the same bunch of lobotomised reptiles and diseased slugs who read it today.”).

This may not appear to be an auspicious start. Nothing much good comes of leaving Africa across the Red Sea. That arch god botherer Moses managed to con a bunch of political dissidents into a 40 year schlep round the desert in order to arrive at a destination that could have been reached by Geoffrey Boycott’s mum in seven days. But before we judge our granddads (or in Dave’s case, brothers) too harshly, let us consider the options. South of Africa lies the Antarctic. Not the sort of place to set up home in my view. They considered crossing the Med to Spain, but found that all of the beaches had already been occupied by Germans. (I am grateful to Little and Large for that joke. I am a martyr to originality.) They considered travelling west across the great ocean, but wisely decided that colonising that area would definitely lead to unassailable problems, and to the south east lay a great land mass, but research showed that there was no chance of culture developing there (thanks to Cannon and Ball for this joke).

If anyone has the names of the people who were among these two hundred, please let me know, so that I can finish my family tree. (Apart from knowing who it was who shagged my great great grandmother, Lucy).

* One of the ‘scientists’ is identified as “a senior lecturer in archaeogenetics at Anglia Ruskin University”. Bugger. I wanted that job.