Planning your hols? Going somewhere nice? Somewhere hot and sunny?

STOP RIGHT THERE. You are BORING. Why go to the usual sun-drenched beach getaway when you could go somewhere truly interesting? Somewhere like this…?
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Kyrgyzstan – Teasmade Revenge’s approved holiday destination of 2008

Why not pop to an impoverished ex-Soviet state landlocked by China? Don’t worry though, the only terrifying thing about it is its national anthem. Honest.

Geography and Climate
Temperatures vary from a sub-tropical 40 degrees celsius in summer to sub-zero for most of the winter – so there’s something for everyone. It’s perfect for budding mountaineers, being almost entirely covered in mountains – and there are loads of fun mud slides and snow avalanches. Most of the water is polluted, making swimming an unusually daring activity. However, the main river dries up before it gets out of the country (Uzbekistan borrows it) so don’t bother taking your swimsuit.

Transport links
There aren’t really any roads, but there isn’t any fuel either, so you won’t miss them. Most people use horses. Luckily, there are trains – two of them, in fact. One to Kazakhstan and one to Uzbekistan. They have an airport, mainly served by government-owned Kyrgyzstan Airlines – proud to be on the list of air carriers banned in the European Union.

Traditions and culture
Sporting activities in Kyrgyzstan include (according to Wikipedia):

• Jumby Atmai – a large bar of precious metal (the “jumby”) is tied to a pole by a thread and contestants attempt to break the thread by shooting at it, while at a gallop.
• Kyz Kuumai – a man chases a girl in order to win a kiss from her, while she gallops away; if he is not successful she may beat him with her “kamchi” (horsewhip).
• Oodarysh – two contestants wrestle on horseback, each attempting to be the first to throw the other from his horse.

Kyrgyzstanis are known for their felt, three-stringed lutes and falconry. Bride-kidnapping is also really popular with one in three women getting involved – men and their male relatives will pick out a suitable female and hold her hostage for days or even weeks, until she either consents to marry him or commits suicide. She will often be impregnated so that she can’t return to her home without being killed by her ashamed parents – fun for all the family!

Politics and political traditions
Leaders are generally corrupt, with politicians often being murdered – so don’t worry about the odd bit of drug smuggling (Kyrgyzstan specialises in opium), because you’ll be able to pay off officials easily. It’s a win win situation! What’s more, what crime there is is generally very well organised.

Kyrgyzstanis love to get involved with politics – they often like to get together and shout political slogans. The police like to get quite involved in these as well. Every now and then, people like to go on huge treasure hunts throughout the capital: generous officials let people make off with all sorts of valuable historical artefacts and then like to hunt them down and kill them.

In terms of strategy, polygamy’s the policy of the future.
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I don’t know about you, but I’ve already packed my bags.

I realise it’s utterly, totally wrong to have two images of John Prescott on my homepage at the same time, but I’m quite pleased with this one:

It’s all getting a bit old now, though. Who should I do next? Leave a comment – or email me at minnie.bygott@teasmaderevenge.com.

Oh dear. I was going to post more Prescott Photoshoppage, but I got this letter through the post today. I don’t know how it got here, since (a) I haven’t given you all my address, and (b) it was addressed to “Minnie, Teasmade Revenge, The Internet”. However, here it is:

Dear Minnie,

Mr. J. Bohnson

In a way, it’s a fair point. I mean, I wrote Bozzer an email months before the elections (when he was very much an outside choice) in a brazen attempt to get snazzy new Back Boris Oyster Card holders for me and my friends, and he was even so generous as to slip in a t-shirt and a load of stickers too. I shit you not. This really did occur. I can’t believe I didn’t mention it. Obviously, it’s not so hilariously funny now that he’s actually won, but still.

Anyway, if I recall correctly, I later found a note on my floor in Boris’s trademark scrawl. I am at least 99% sure it was from Boris (give or take a few decimal places). Unfortunately, when I woke up the next morning it was gone, but I shall attempt to record it from memory as well as I am able.

MY GRAND PLAN (TOP SECRET: NO GIRLS ALOWED)
1. Become Mayor of London, dispense of boot-wearing cat.
2. Get rid of horrid bendy buses so can cycle to skool the H of P without pesky mud getting on trousers.
3. Realise will now longer to abel to blame bad cycling on bendy buses, renege on pledge.
4. Maek friends with popular boys (Cameron et al). Might have to share toffees at lunchtime.
5. Strike Blair-Brown-style deal with Cammers, become PRI-MINISTER of the WHOLE OF ENGLAND and aslo Wales and things!!!
6. Go and speek nicely with that rather nice chap Geog Bush, pursuede him to stop killing those foreign chappies. Possible speech idea: “Geog old man, I do think it’s not on you killing all these foreign chappies. Hardly sportsmanlike, eh what? Oh noes I fell over.”
7. Everyone wil be rearly pleased
8. Buy new bycyle (red)
9. Get made president of the UNIVERS, even thoh evryone thinks I am to stupid to win. Ha! I will show them, what what! Old Bozzer is not one to be rekoned with! Ha!
10. Have tea with the Queen. Maybe even crumpets too. She is a top laydee.
11. Rest on Lawrells.

Well then. I suppose time will only tell as to whether this is truly a genuine artifact. Please don’t blame me if it really happens.

And I bet you thought that the Russell Brand Death Through Nature series had run its course, right? Wrong.

So yes, as usual, I had this beautiful dream last night…

A friend of mine went on a date recently. Personally, I’ve never really been up for proper formal dates – they’re always so awkward and boring. I mean, the first date says so much about you – it’s all about judging people in a couple of hours, and frankly the moment a guy says “Let’s go for a meal – there’s this great little Italian restaurant…” I have already judged them. And not just because they had the bad taste to ask a fat chick out.

Let’s face it, there are a million billion places you could spend three hours in, so why pick a middle-of-the-road Italian / Chinese / Indian restaurant? It’s hardly imaginative, is it? So, in case any guys out there are reading, here are some less utterly banal suggestions.

Your local hospital
Why go to the theatre when you can go to an operating theatre instead? Let’s face it, more people like to watch a good old blood and guts horror film than a poncy West End play. It’s cheaper than you’d expect (all you’ll need to do is rent a couple of nurse’s uniforms / pretend to be worried relatives) and if you time it right you won’t even have to pay for food. Not that you’ll be wanting any. What’s more, your local A&E department isn’t just open for dinner dates – it’s an exciting 24-7 destination.

An air disaster
Increasingly popular due to an increase in terrorist activity, why not get involved in a plane crash together? You might be lucky enough to get a really close-up view of New York, for example, or end up stranded on a tropical island with unknown horrors lurking in the shadows. You might land atop a remote snowy mountain, living off the meat of your fellow passengers and slowly starving to death. Who knows? It’s truly the lucky dip of dates – what’s for sure is that nothing brings people together like an horrific life-threatening trauma.

Colonic irrigation
You might like the look of someone – you know, think they’re clean, well-shaven, nicely presented etc – but how can you really know what they’re like on the inside? That’s where colonic irrigation comes in, helping future life-mates really get to grips with their partner’s innermost thoughts and feelings bowel patterns. It’s all very well getting someone checked out for STDs, but how do you know they haven’t got worms? This works on so many levels. Oh yes, and again, nothing brings people together like an horrific life-threatening trauma.

A Scientology lecture
How secure is your partner in their convictions? It’s something worth thinking about – after all, if someone has it within them to become a cult-driven lunatic, it’s surely better to know sooner rather than later. Test them with a nice three-hour talk about thetans and Tom Cruise, and see how good their endurance skills are in the mental equivalent of close-up shotgun paintballing.

Greetings my lovelies. Last weekend and associated bank holiday were three days of glorious warmth: not too sunny, not too hot. Perfect. I was, of course, ill.

The moment I got well enough to stick my head out the door, my hair took on the appearance and texture of bit of well-used wire wool, chavs started taking off their clothes in public, small children started playing in the road, and slim good-looking people everywhere immediately started looking even better looking than before. Summer is really horrendously awful, and look – it’s finally rolled around again.

Anyone who is, like me, a fatty, will spend the next four months feeling the lard gruesomely creeping under their skin, cooking their muscles as it slowly obeys gravity and gets out where it can.

But never mind the fatties – I always really feel for the pensioners in summer. I mean, those guys hate being warm. They need actual government initiatives to get their lofts insulated, and they’re such frost junkies that every year, hundreds push themselves too far for that ultimate rush and end up dieing of pneumonia. Everyone knows it’s cruel to leave dogs in a hot car without at least rolling the window down a little bit, but pensioners are much older and more fragile than dogs.

So, while the rest of the country (especially us fatties) swelter under the burning rays, the least we can do is campaign for forced ice-baths for pensioners. You know, with Ice Wardens (much like Dog Wardens – loving this pensioner-dog analogy) patrolling the streets, sweeping up stray pensioners into vans and taking them straight to swimming pools full of ice.

Yes – people of Britain, we can make this a reality. Who’s up for making posters?