Sunday, October 30, 2005

Boz is in love...

...with his new winter coat.



Boz has never had a coat like this before.

Boz likes it very much.

Boz tramped down Oxford Street in search of coat.

Boz found it in the last shop he went to, Muji.

Boz should have gone there first.

Boz doesn't mind though.

Boz also bought a shirt he doesn't really need from Zara just so Boz could flirt outrageously with the sales assistant.

Boz is feeling like a fly-boy today.

Saturday, October 29, 2005

That cannot feel comfortable



Not sure what's more disturbing about this. The price. The associations. The fact that they're flogging next to the babyfood...

Kudos to S and P who let me tag along while they did the end of their weekly shop in Sainsburys, before we all headed for coffee. They were to be found looking guilty by the bread-slicing machine, as if they were 12 and in an arcade. Also meant when we got to the till and the bread didn't have the right barcode on it, the cashiers had to rummage aorund for one.

P: "It was 51p but to be honest I'll pay 75 if that's all you've got."

I don't know why but I laughed like a special one.

An extra night in bed this evening; the clocks go back. Hee hee heeeeee!

I've changed my sheets and everything.

Sleep is good.

Thursday, October 27, 2005

Boz needs

Okay, I have shamelessly stolen this game from this blog belonging to Sam, but it's funny.

Crank up Google. Bung "X needs" in the search box, X being you're name and not forgetting those quotation marks.

Boz needs...

...to make a living too.
...YOUR HELP!
...to worry about her child and her crazy ass exhusband. (er??)
...all of the protectiion he can get!
...to go.
...to tackle?
...40mA per channel right?
...to be streamlined in order to simplify management of government finances.

Hahahhahaha

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Monday, October 24, 2005

Look! From war atrocities to TV shopping in a single bound!

What's a going-on? No posts for ages then so many in a short space of time!?

Okay. But this time I have the picture file here and not at work, so it makes to do this this evening.

THIS is the latest advert for Unicef in Belgium (not much point in posting a link to the Belgium Unicef site. I mean, it's not like this site gets a lot of traffic. I can be pretty certain not a single person from Belgium has been to these pages.). It's to help make children aware of the horrors and reality of war.



I think it's really good. Bravo Unicef.

In unrelated news...

THE QUESTIONS OF OUR AGE:

Why is there always just one attractive student in every episode of University Challenge?
Why is everyone with heavy make-up in Eastenders always evil?
Why...?

Ah. It seems QVC can help with the last one:



Bless 'em.

Project Ping The Pong

This cruddily-photoshopped "gem" has been on my laptop almost since I got it. It's v naff but I thought "wha'the'heck", I'll post the thing. Voila. Enjoy.

Bags and bags and bags and oh wait a moment

I am now about to share a very small, very middle-class rant.

Commence:

To the neighbour who always manages to put their recycling bags out about an hour, nay perchance a moment, after they have been collected; WHY? FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PEOPLE WHY??

To explain, our street has a single morning of the week when we can put out bags of recycling. Typically for a London borough council, there are machiavelian by-laws that sound like a game of Mornington Crescent. Thou shalt not place bags out before 9.30pm the night before. Thou shalt not not include waxy paper in thy bag of recycling. Etc etc etc ad infinitum.

So, anyway. By about 8.00am on the alloted morning when I leave for work, the street is lined with brightly coloured bags, all waiting to be collected.

But when I get home, there is just one batch, my neighbours, which has somehow been put out after all the others have been collected, and will sit there on the pavement for a week. Waiting.

I mean, do they just not get it? It's like this EVERY week!??

Cease the rant.

Phew. I thank you. Stupid of me I know. But it's been bugging me all weekend.

Well. Sort of.

Sunday, October 23, 2005

Sunday night homework

It's Sunday evening and I'm supposed to be reading up on stuff on Jerusalem and Bethlehem for work and all I can hear in my head - ALL I CAN HEAR IN MY HEAD - is Little Donkey on a continuous loop.

Arrgh.

Entirely inappropriate.

Music on please. Click!

Also easing off the effects of last night drinking, drinking and drinking in the bars of South London. Which was mighty fun. Shocking that we don't go out in Brixton more really, as it's just over there. Look, just there. Do you see.

Went to Satay Bar for foodstuffs and then a wine bar called Hive on Beehive Place. I think it used to be the Havana bar thing, but now is not. It was nice, but I can't find a weblink for it. Arse.

With distressing inevitability thoughts have turned to Christmas. People already making vague plans. Adverts appearing on the tellybox (W H Smith's have ditched the crap worm puppet things from last year. Nor are they asking Nicholas Lyndhurst to drag up again it seems. Thank you Holy Farter.). Decorations in shops. Groan. I may be in danger of turning into a grumpy young man*.

...Actually, I have been thinking I've been on a bit of late-twenties-crisis trip lately. Then I thought to myself that that is just so impossibly up its own bottom that really I should just get on with life and stop whinging about work and how busy I am. And actually bloody organise some things with friends.

Spent a fabulous and therapeutic couple of hours yesterday over a very long breakfast/lunch with Lady Lana yesterday, in which we bemoaned the state of some aspects of our lives. While eyeing up the barstaff and our fellow-customers. Obviously. It was dead nice. But not of interest here.

Also this weekend there has been signs of the resuscitation effort on my lovelife working. Hooray. We have a blip on our blippy-monitor thing they always have in Holby City.

Oh Christ I don't watch Holby City. I swear. Not for ages, anyway... though someone should really get the scriptwriters to tackle MRSA.

(*Does anyone else still automatically hear Kathy Burke screeching "YOUNG MAAAN!" from Harry Enfield And Chums? No? Just me? Hokaythen.)

Monday, October 17, 2005

I chuffing well did it!

56 minutes and 19 seconds - I did it! I did it!

I know it's daft, it's not a huge achievement, for a professional athlete 10k isn't very much - but I honestly wasn't sure I could do it. I have never ever run that far in my life before, so to do it was one thing, to do it under an hour was even better.

I feel well pleased. If a little stiff today.

Flatmates all did great times too. Beautiful day. Many attractive people panting through the park. People even chatting each other up during the race.

My god we were hungry after. Back to the flat and craving bacon sarnies. Mmmmmm.

Hooray us.

And on top of it, someone told me today that Fairbridge is actually a really good charity, so that annuls some of my Nike-guilt.

Friday, October 07, 2005

Ernie II: The Chalk's Revenge



Ernie..?

And you thought there would be no links between posts on this blog... hah...

A cascade of rubbishness is descending from the sky across the happy-camper parade of life. The flat alone contains a trinity of bad days. Missing mobiles, traumatic haircuts and exploding cars. No, really.

In the pub last weekend though, as we watched our quiz team fail miserable (though we aced the picture round - small weeny victories) this website was waved under my nose (conversationally) - it is amazing. I cannot wait to try the next time one of us lapses into la-la land. Heh heh heh...

Right, anyway. Life - where were we? Spectacularly good-little-boy-routine last week when I went to stay with Grannie-Boz:



"I just got a few things in as I knew you were coming down."

Jesus Holy Crikey.

Really nice time out of London though, catching up on a funky little town I haven't been to in far, far too long. It sounds daft, but it smelt the same, and was very evocative. Grannie-Boz on ace form.

The rest of the week is a blur, though did go and see a couple of Mae West films with Mark at the NFT. Especially rated Night After Night, in which everyone says her role is tiny, but she really does steal everything but the cameras.

Atta girl.

Obviously, big news of the month is that the Will-Emma-Ed storyline has finally peaked.

It's Friday night. I'm knackered. I'm done here.

T'ra!