Fuck it, if we’re going down the sharks route, I’ll raise you ninjas, wizards, ninja wizards, and bears that shoot lasers out of their eyes!

Nah.

Two words:

ZOMBIE COWBOYS!

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Undead-Or-Alive-DVD/dp/B001TJKVJ6/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=dvd&qid=1240487932&sr=1-1

(Insert your own Dunya jokes as I can’t be arsed)

- but only if the Helicopter Gunships play Wagner as they swoop majestically down from the skies.

We don’t need no ships in the area – we could fly the helicopters in using bigger helicopters, or a jet plane that could fly super fast and carry lots of gunships at once.

And the gunships would have a silent mode, like Blue Thunder, that they could use to sneak up on the pirates or use to perv at girls doing naked yoga in unfeasibly large windowed apartments. And they’d all be piloted by Roy Schneider clones and co-piloted by Ernest Borgnine because he was in Airwolf and all the cloned pilots would have cars that talked in a slightly effete voice and did turbo-boosted jumps when they needed to get away from pirates and muggers and shit. And all the Ernest Borgnines would have mad skillz with the computers and jam the pirates radios and lots of naughty brown peoples would die. But no innocent people would die because the gunships would know not to shoot them. Wheeeee! Kapow! Blammo!

Somalis Don’t Surf.

And also die.

Wow, I’m so bastard topical right now. w00t.

I think the BBC has a winning format on it’s hands;
“How do you solve a problem like Somali Pirates?”

Each week a band of grizzled ex-military personnel offer their expertise and training to solve difficult conflicts.

Or, alternatively, send some Somalian pirates to a big old house in th country to spend a few months as governess to a load of Austrian kids. The beauty of the plan is this: if the pirates turn out to be peedo pirates (the worst kind), it doesn’t matter – they’re only forrun kids anyway!

God, I find the pirate shit boring. And that’s a sentence I never thought I’d *hear* myself *say*.

Switzerland FACT: Rolle (or Mont-sur-Rolle, a village about a mile away) is a wine-producing town.

Or, more accurately, a whine-producing town.