Katie opts out of Cruise control.

It was always going to be a matter of time before Top-Gun movie darling Tom Cruise, said farewell to his latest wife. Anybody that spouts religious bullshit on a regular basis is always walking a fine line but to promote Scientology, you have to wonder how he has any credibility left.

Scientology is an oddball cult which appears to be little more than pyramid selling on a religious level. In other words – a con. Scientology was created by L Ron Hubbard and his profession as a writer of science pulp fiction, says it all. Scientology tells us that we are but astral energy, trapped in human form. In fact, when Hubbard died, his followers told us he’d abandoned his body to carry on important work in another part of the universe. Hmmm … I reckon there are many involved in this nonsense of a cult whose minds have long departed this planet, but ironically, still appear to be active here.

Above we see Mr Cruise practising in his spacesuit for the day he ascends to that astral plane. However, it is no joke for wife, Kate and daughter, Suri. Can you not blame a mother in fearing for her child’s well-being? She has serious fears. I mean, she should know, after five years being married to Cruise.

Scientology is not officially recognised as a religion but is exempt from UK tax as it alleges it is a non-profit organisation. However, for something supposedly not in it to make money, there are an awful lot of properties owned by the cult and some very rich people – at the top.

Mind you, it’s the same as any other religion. Promises eternal existence, but is simply after your mortally-gained wealth.

Yes Katie. I’d keep her very close to your chest – and don’t bloody let go.

Boy. I must stop forgetting what I’ve left in my living room.

The other week, David came home with a puppet he made in school. Now when I say puppet, this one is about three feet high with a head that’s real-sized, as you can see below.

It’s really good and he did, apparently do a lot of the stitching himself. However, the first night it came home, I placed it in the far corner of the living room, went to bed, forgot it was there. Next morning in the gloom at six, I walk bleary-eyed into the room, turn and … Arrrgghhh! My God. I wasn’t expecting to see that out the corner of my eye. It’s the most frightening thing since David left the home video of 2001, on pause and I walked in to see the face of my ex-wife grinning back at me on a 32” screen.

Mind you, David’s puppet reminds me of a sight we saw on holiday. This was at the other end of the road away from our caravan.

Imagine walking past that every day to get a packet of cornflakes. Simon Cowell in a grass skirt. Yew!

She’s a bit Gaga …

So we have a storm in a teacup about Lady Gaga doing a song about the death of Princess Diana. I was amazed when I heard. I mean, has she only just found out the princess is dead? You can imagine the Gaga comeback tour of 2028. Opening number – Wacko about Jacko.

Lady Gaga – Keep up with the times, Dear.

Crime scene? Some of that music is criminal. I tell you.

On the menu last night …

Ugh! I spent a lovely couple of minutes clearing up what can only be described as congealed badger vomit after suffering the stench beforehand. The residue, also more commonly know as Pot Noodle, belonged to David, and he’d spilled it on the carpet.

Is this child abuse?

Chantal Marshall, having persuaded four of her daughters to follow her example and have excessive breast enhancement, now wants youngest daughter Britney, 14, to also have boob surgery.

Seriously, Britney. Do you really want to look like that? Ugh! They are horrific. Cinderella never needed to be the same as her sisters, and neither do you.

Every minute on the internet …

I read this week that each sixty seconds online, people send 200million emails. They also post and share over 700million items on Facebook. In addition, they load nearly 4000 poor quality retro-style photos on Instantgram followed by tapping in 100,000 tweets on Twitter.

I don’t know about that lot, but according to my statistics on this site, most of the world is searching for pictures of Rose from Titanic on a blooming raft.

Arrrgghhh! It – was – a – joke! And for the record, it probably would have sunk.

A bit of madness with a sting in the tail.

Madness singer, Suggs, allegedly got drunk at a posh bash the other day and gatecrashed Sting while the former Police singer was on stage.

Sting ought to be grateful. Maybe seeing an artist with a bit of oomph might remind him what it’s like to perform energetic rock. It’s what Sting did best, not this solo artistic stuff, or as it’s also known – semi-pretentious crap.

Sting – Winner of the Smug Git of the Year Award – near thirty years running.

I don’t want to contribute to their air miles.

Apparently, Prince William and Kate splashed out £52k on a one-way flight recently. This is in addition to regular member of the mile-high club, Prince Andrew, who fleeced the country nearly £400k over a short period in his role as trade envoy. Trade envoy? That’s a new name for playing golf I haven’t heard before. Also, the Prince of Wales and Camilla, spent nigh-on half a million on their tour of the Middle East and Africa. All on private jets.

Have any of these leeches ever heard of using a bus? I’m told that the £32 million the UK taxpayer gives to fund these useless load of ferret droppings each year, amounts to 52p a head. It may not sound much to you, but I want to opt out.

The royal family. They live on a different planet. Maybe they should become Scientologists.

Cheers.

Nick

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