Nick Clegg has vowed to protect the education budget and he seems like a likeable sort of chap who can be taken at his word.
After Debbie’s departure to Hungary in 2005, Brian helped re-launch Tom Archer’s failed sausage business, making Adam even more convinced that Brian had problems with Adam’s sexuality.
My investigations continue. You’ll hear more when I finally get to the bottom of it.
I just got one of those e-mails that ends with:
Please consider the environment – do you really need to print this email?
Yeah, I thought, good point. So I wrote it all down instead, but I only had a crayon handy so it ran to 8 pages.
I looked at them and thought: so who’s that helping exactly?
The wife just uttered those three little words which never fail to make my heart leap and remind me why I married her all those years ago: “Curry for tea?”
Truly I am blessed amongst men.
Just spent £5 on 60 minutes of hot-spot wi-fi action in a hotel room. Here’s what I’ve chosen to do with this wondrous gift:
- Collected my e-mail (1 spam – I checked it earlier at work)
- Uploaded a video of the hotel shower cubicle to YouTube
- Checked my comments on Flickr (1 new comment)
- Reloaded YouTube a few times – video’s uploaded but not appearing yet
- Checked tonight’s TV listings (nothing on)
- Tried YouTube in another browser. Still not appearing.
- Posted this crap
If anyone has any better ideas please can you mail them to me in the next 14 minutes?
Phones4U is a shitty horrible chain of mobile phone shops in the UK. Their sales assistants must be on 100% commission because you can’t get more than a yard into one of their garish hell-hole shops without being ambushed by at least two of them. I went in once for a bean-on-a-string handsfree kit (cost: £4.99). I was met at the threshold by two chaps who wanted to know how they might serve me today. “I’d like a handsfree kit for a Nokia Whatever-it-was, please,” I said. “Not a Bluetooth one, though. Not even a Nokia one. Just your cheapest tangly-nasty-wire-type-one.”
“No problem, sir,” said No. 1, lunging between me and No. 2. “Come on in, the water’s lovely.”
Honestly, he really did.
I bet that night he told someone how he’d “closed the sale at four nine nine”, conveniently omitting the decimal point. Actually, no: I bet that night he sat eating a microwave lasagne for one and imagined telling someone he’d closed the sale at four nine nine.
No, wait – I bet he told the lasagne.
One day when I’m really bored I’m going to set myself a challenge to touch the back wall of Phones4U and get all the way out again without being asked whether I need any help there mate.
I just registered for a YouTube account.
I wouldn’t have bothered if I’d known it was going to be so bloody frank.
It’s true, apparently.
Photo: by leadbetter74
Slogan seen embossed on a Love Heart passed to one of my daughters this morning by a friend in the playground.
My, how times have changed. Other slogans I spotted were “TXT ME”, “PODCAST ME” and “HAPPYSLAP ME”.
It’s not every day you get an invitation to an exclusive black-tie dinner and cocktail soirée from one of the big .com corporations.
Nor is it every day that they send you a grovelling and personally addressed apology for having mistaken you for someone they would invite to an exclusive black-tie dinner and cocktail soirée.
The icing on the cake is when they personally address it to the first-thing-that-came-to-mind, fart-arsed name you made up when they first demanded it in return for a free download.
I’ve been served a book meme by Anthony “WMD 404” Cox – a kind of Desert Island Discs only with books instead of discs, and only 5 instead of 8. And no desert island. Anyway, here goes…
Number of books I own: I haven’t counted, and I don’t like to boast, so let’s just say we’re talking double figures.
Five books that mean a lot to me:
- The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro – my all-time favourite book, and as fine a study of British emotional constipation as you’re likely to find.
- Scepticism, Inc. by Bo Fowler – the only thing I’ve ever read that describes my own world view perfectly.
- A Prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving – probably the book I’ve read more than any other. It’s become like a nice pair of old shoes now, and my copy is falling apart. I always make the same mistake of starting to read it at Christmas for the enchanting chapters where the boys are growing up in a snowy Maine wonderland, and forgetting that that’ll leave me in January with the depressing second half where they’re getting blown to pieces in Vietnam. Doh!
- Life of Pi by Yann Martel – utterly beautiful, and a very close runner-up to Remains of the Day as my desert island book. In fact, no, this would be my desert island book, if only for chapter 58:
I pulled out the survival manual. Its pages were still wet. I turned them carefully. The manual was written by a British Royal Navy commander. It contained a wealth of practical information on surviving at sea after a shipwreck. It included survival tips such as:
And so on.
- Katie’s Zoo by Me (No link because I haven’t finished writing it yet. Or had it published.) – 10-year-old Katie comes home one day to find a crocodile called George behind her settee. He talks her into letting him stay, but Katie gradually begins to question whether George is really as harmless and mild-mannered as he seems. In fact, she wonders if he might have something to do with the mysterious disappearance of a local cat. As Katie starts to investigate, matters only get more complicated – and that’s before further strange and uninvited guests start to arrive…
Who am I going to tag? Er, nobody. Sorry, I just don’t know any other bloggers who haven’t taken part already. The trail stops here. Please return to what you were doing.
When I have a whole day to spare and I want to spend it getting a headache, I like nothing better than to attempt the Guardian prize crossword. They’re usually set by Araucaria, a setter of fiendish reputation. Probably his best known crossword clue was an enormous anagram to do with Jeffrey Archer.
Sadly that one was before my time, but I am glad to have encountered another gem of his in the prize puzzle on the 5th of February:
Wee dram for a Glaswegian: the rot’s mended: ‘Who wrote a Zimbabwean Othello’ (5,3,1,9,4,5)
I pretty soon figured out that it was an anagram of “Wee dram for a Glaswegian: the rot” but I couldn’t make head or tail of the rest. A good deal of head scratching later, it finally clicked that the answer was the first line of a purpose-written limerick, of which the second line was “Who wrote a Zimbabwean Othello”. From the letters available and the pattern of the answer I could even get as far as “There was a [something] from [somewhere]“, but it still took another fair while and a couple of paracetamol before I finally cracked it. Ever since, I’ve been chuckling every time I think about it:
didgeridoo… easel… functor… are you laughing yet?