the further adventures of boz

Paper Angst

2012-01-24T13:39:00.004Z

I'm in a quandry. I'm considering buying one of these.

Pros:

1. I will likely read more, simply by dint of convenience.

2. I don't have room in my house for any more books.

3. I will feel whizzy and exciting and a bit greener.

Cons:

1. I like real books. Real paper book-type, sniff-me-I-smell-like-a-book books.

2. I will be decreasing the number of paper books in circulation and thus contributing to the future reduction of the second-hand bookshop industry.*

3. My Mother will disown me.

4. I will be giving money to Amazon, and not my lovely local(ish) independent bookshop.

At this point, I am thinking of a Harry Hill style "FIIIIGHT!" and seeing what happens. I'm aware this is not a complete lifestyle choice. Even if I have a Kindle, I can still buy paper books. But then, what if I want to read the book I have on paper on my Kindle.** But I can't LEND people books I have on a Kindle. Nor have they yet invented a way for me to nose at what other people are reading on the tube with an e-book.

Humph.

Anyone got any thoughts?

* And then where will all the old spinster gay men go? This is my retirement plan!
** They should do what they do with DVDs/Blu-Rays and flog 'triple play' books, with a code to download a digital one. Do they do that? Why do they not do that.

Mincing

2011-12-08T11:02:00.006Z

If anyone asks, these bad boys are the best Mince Pies in London City.

(But NOT the Waitrose Short Crust ones, or the Luxury ones, FYI.)

I know this, as a friend organised a Mince Pie tasting at the weekend, and the 15-strong Tasting Committee chugged its way through 14 types of mince pies, judging them against a secret and specific set of criteria*.

Just take a moment, and imagine having seven mince pies in a row (we had halves of most). Doesn't sound like much, does it? But it gets quite hard going after a while. Mince Pies are quite.. filling.

OTHER FACTS ESTABLISHED BY THE COMMITTEE:

- Heston's are rubbish (they came last, and the stuff you sprinkle on them smells like one of those tree-shaped air fresheners for cars. Sorry Hesty.)

- We are not a fan of puff pastry in our mince pies (because, basically, that's an eccles cake with festive dellusions)

- Extra sugar is no substitute for taste, darling

- One of the brands from Selfridges tastes slightly of fruity Hubba Bubba. Weird

- The structural integrity of pastry is really rather important

- Nothing says Christmas like a whacking great bottle of Amaretto, does it?

- Home made is really also the way forward, as they came in second, third and fourth (OR The Committee is biased. And lovely.)

- The addition of a tiny wee bit of stilton to the filling before baking can be surprisingly delicious

This is Boz, helping you all have a better Christmas..

* I'll say now that one of the criteria was 'holistic joy' and leave it there.

Well that was stupid, wasn't it.

2011-11-29T11:00:00.005Z

I can't remember exactly what possessed me. A few months ago I casually mentioned to m'dad that my flatmate was off overseas to see his extended family for Christmas. So if they were in town at any point around the holiday, they could, you know, stay or whatever.

"Oh?"

"Yes."

~manly supping of pints~

Skip forward a week, and my sister rings.

"So I hear we're spending the family Christmas at your place this year? I think this is a great idea."

"Wha..?"

"I said I think this is a GREAT idea."

Yes. It turns out I'm hosting the entire family of six this Christmas. Ah. Right.

All sorts of questions suddenly occur. Where will everyone sleep? Do I have enough bedding? Do I have enough forks?

I strongly suspect that the solution to this problem will be me throwing money at the good people of Sainsbury's, Waitrose and John Lewis, and doing the full Margo Leadbetter by getting Christmas delivered in a van (or not). Things that I have noted down so far:

1. Industrial quantities of toilet paper
2. Wholesale size box of Quality Street
3. Earplugs

It's actually gonna be great (Dad has said he will still cook Christmas dinner). But gettnig there is going to be very interesting. I have not bought an advent calendar this year because it would just feel like counting down to an alcohol and stress induced breakdown.

Look, Mummy, this door has picture of sedatives behind!

Wish me luck.

"There's a turn up for the books, then."

2011-09-23T13:42:00.004+01:00

(Apologies, as this is broadly an expanded rumination on a tweet.)

I love some of the mild panic intimated by some of the rational and calm scientific community in this BBC News Online story about CERN.

"We tried to find all possible explanations for this."

I'm sure at some point they'll find that someone forgot to carry the decimal, or they lost a couple of atoms down the back of the fridge or something while someone wasn't looking. Everything may well return to normal.

But watching a whole bunch of quite seriously talented scientists do the collective equavalent of going 'Um..' is a bit good. We're humans. We're not meant to know or understand everything. You can insert the usual bit about people once thinking the earth was flat and the atom was the smallest bit of stuff going here, if you like.

It's nice to have our collective smugness punctured a bit. Look lads, new facts! Re-think EVERYTHING!

Also, being all artsy around the waist and ankles, it struck me how much easier it might be for me to accept this than some people in the scientific community. I have a (very, very) broad understanding of the science bit. But no where near enough to get hindered by any hard and fast rules of physics or owt.

"Stuff goes faster than the fastest we thought it could go? Okay then. Is anyone making tea?"

Alright so even I appreciate that if something is found to go faster than the speed of light, that has potential consequences for all kinds of thinking, theories, clever stuff and (most importantly) sci-fi writing. And I'm not dismissing this lightly. But what I'm saying is, imagination is a really, really important part of anything. Especially science.

I have no real point here - and I'm certainly not saying art is more important than science - nossir. Both have their place in a harmonious universe. I firmly admire all clever maths and science types, simply because it's so far removed from my own abilities!

Right. I'm just wittering now.

Because what this really needs is another ha'pennies worth

2011-08-09T09:19:00.011+01:00

I feel like Kate Ashfield in Shaun of the Dead;

"Can everyone! Just calm! The fuck! Down!

I live in South London, but I'm not indulging in much flames-and-smashed-glass rhetoric today. I went to bed fairly normally last night, after sitting in front of Twitter and various news channels for several hours. (I did drift off to sleep to the sound of distant sirens though - more on them in a sec.)

Yes, some pretty violent and unpleasant things have been happening over the last couple of days, showing humans and Londoners definitely not at our best.

But rolling TV news does make it look worse than is. We're not under marshall law just yet; and for those talking about rubber bullets and water cannons, let's try and remember that a lot of the people causing trouble are, well, so very young. In the long-term, is that really going to help?

Of course, that's not to say that a lot of people haven't had their businesses ruined, or faced some pretty scary stuff last night. Because they did. And that's horrible.

It feels like a small tipping point has been reached. However it started, people are looking for any excuse to smash a window and nick some stuff.

Which shows that there are some pretty unhappy people out there, doesn't it? People don't really do that if they are able to live happy and fulfilled lives (here comes the preachy). The further away the people at the top get from the people at the bottom, the less happy society as a whole is going to be. I firmly believe that. Wealth distribution should be even.

(FYI, this piece in today's Grauniad is excellent - and one of the few pieces I've seen not written from some white, middle-aged dude.)

It's hard when buildings are burning down, but the bigger picture is that a lot of things in the way we live are not working, and a lot of people let down by 'the system' are more or less left to get on with it (hey, you all know my lefty vibe).

And it's not everyone, either. Reading Twitter last night (before it got all hysterical and shouty) showed more than handful of positive stories. Kids helping people home and stuff. Let's not demonise everyone under the age of 20. Because if you do that, then that's what they become.

And let's remind ourselves that places like Brixton or Peckham are not war zones, whatever the media says; they are places like any other, where some good stuff happens and some bad stuff happens. (Props to my friend (and Peckham dweller) CheddarChica's ace blog post from last night.)

But as I'm halfway through the very interesting Blood, Sweat & Tea, I can't help thinking about all the people in the emergency services working the last few days*. You know. Although those buggers being laid off and having their pay scruntinised in the press.

I'll be honest, I'm a bit worried about what the response to all this will be once everything has settled down. It's a good excuse for a stronger-than-really-needed attitude, particularly with heavy handed legislation. It may not just be a couple of politicians holiday that get ruined; if this is handled poorly, then reactionaly politics could land us in bigger problems.

Anyway. What do I know? That's all my guff on this. As you were.

**UPDATE: Basically, what LC said, in far fewer words.**

* Although as the book points out, which surprised me a bit, the ambulance service is not technically an emergency service. Really? Really!? Then worrahellisit?!

..and cheat at tax!

2011-08-03T16:08:00.004+01:00

Just read a really interesting thought from a colleague asking whether all the recent scandals mean us hoooymans have become more corrupt and evil, or if we're just all more clued-up about stuff and asking our corporate overlords more awkward questions.

It's probbaly the latter, to be honest, which is a damn good thing too. But Gods dammit one of these days I want to be good and proper evil. Not like, Liz Jones low-grade evil*, but full-on, empire crushing, riotous, don't-give-a-monkeys, launch-the-express-train-to-hell fury of evil malice.

My mid-life crisis has a lot to deliver.

No good will come of this, of course, and as always its seeds of self-destruction will likely lead to my dismal downfall**. But I've spent thirty years being the comparatively holy child. It's time to flip a couple of fingers to the man-slash-universe.***

One day.

In the meantime, here's Eartha Kitt:

* I think I've linked to this outstanding reaction in every possible public forum now. Christ, I've even bought his book. Short of printing it out and handing it to people on the street, I'm done here.

** Possibly in some inapporpriately hilarious way. Like a lower-rent, gayer, Wile E. Coyote. I'm unlikely to be terminated by my own mis-fired ground-to-air missiles, really. But a boy can dream, you know?

*** Unless this involves hurting kittehs. This goes without saying.

Things I have learnt since recovering from chickenpox

2011-08-02T10:38:00.003+01:00

1. I got off fairly lightly, especially on the itching front.

2. Contrary to all pretence, I am not in any form vital to the successful operation of the office. Darnit.

3. My ambition to maintain a relaxed and peaceful frame of mind since coming back to work has been, well, a challenge. But this only underlines the fact that something in my life has to change fairly soon. Mmmyeah. It's all been the same for far too long.

4. Sometimes the NT puts on shows that I really don't enjoy at ALL . (NB: This may not have anything to do with the chickenpox.)

Aaaaand that's about it, really. Cheers for all the nice messages - that was nice, that was.

And so life carries on.

Things I have learnt since contracting chickenpox

2011-07-20T11:56:00.002+01:00

1. No part of the body is safe from blisters. Think about that for a moment.

2. The ones on your scalp are the worst.

3. Also the ones behind the ears.

4. People can actually recoil. I thought they just did that in books.

5. My flatmate is awesome and kind. And also very patient.

6. Fever-fuelled dreams are a great way to imagine up ideas for kids films you will probably never write.

7. They make you wait on your own at the Doctor's.

8. Calamine lotion smells like dentists that have been left out in the rain too long.

9. Mums are amazing and know everything.

10. Grown up medication is never as brilliant as Calpol.

11. I would pay almost any sum of money for my dad to come and stroke my hair as I went to sleep, like he did sometimes when I was a kid.

12. Sleep is GREAT.

...it's me again, Hive Mind...

2011-07-05T14:16:00.004+01:00

Apparently I need a holiday or a rest or something.* Once again I've gone over half the year without really taking a significant chunk of time off. Apart from a few days to move, which of course was very relaxing.**

So. I'm taking some time off and going somewhere. On my jack jones. Just me.

Apparently, this makes me a freak.

Holiday?

By yourself?

Without anyone else?

Yes, friend. You see I was raised by a pair of kick-ass and groovy parents, and if there is one thing I can do, it is be by myself. I can literally do it for hours. On my own. No hands.

I've been kicking around the internet (because I can do that now) and looking for places to go and hang out. A phrase has cropped up a number of times:

Single person supplement!

I'm sorry? Come again? Same room, yes. Eating less food, probably. And you're charging me more? Huh.

Obviously traveling by yourself is not a new thing, but as the evidence suggests, there's more than a whiff of suspicion about the single traveller. It appears vaguely acceptable to go it alone in another country, but.. here..?

Yes. Here. I've just moved flat. My bank account is emptyier than Jane Marple's swear box. I want a holiday. I'm not marauding around the British countryside snatching children off the streets.*** Bugger off with your "Naww, poor you. No friends?" I demand luxury and rest and time reading books and working out what I'm supposed to be doing with my life. I have plenty of great mates. I don't want to see them ALL the time.

I feel a bit penalised because I'm not in a couple. All the cool places have a slight air of smug romantic getaway to them. I just want a decent place to sleep and relax and sit about. Maybe walk about a bit in the country or by the sea. ~hefts weight around a bit on bar stool~

And oh I have found cool places if you are entwined with another human-slash-humans. Staying in a disused railway carriage, Sir? Perhaps Madamoiselle would prefer a glamorous eco-pod dropped onto the Cornish countryside? Or a yurt for you and yours..? No..? A 1940s former Showman's van, perhaps?

Well if you're single you CAN'T. Nossir. Families and couples only, ifyouplease. Certainly if you want to be able to afford them and not face daily confrontations with your social status as Persona Non Nupta by waking up next to a string of unusued beds. Outcast. Pariah. Etc. Etc. ~Falls off bar stool~

So. I need somewhere cheap-ish to go in the UK where I can hang around and do not much for a bit? Any ideas, anyone...?

* Unpicks fingernails from desk.
** Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah ~sits on unpacked Boz box~ ~rocks~
*** Can't make any such promises about awesome kittehs, obviously.

Hallo the internet, my big furry reassuring friend!

2011-07-04T12:04:00.004+01:00

Four weeks.

It's taken four weeks since moving flat for BT to get us properly connected to the internet. I mean, really? I'm a single gay man. My flatmate purports this puts me in a vulnerable group. I NEED THE INTERNET.

...because when you've used up your Smartphone's data allowance for the month remarkably quickly, getting everything you need to do done at work sucks. Seriously. I am surprised at how much of what I do involves being hooked up to the hive mind.

Anyway. Happily flat-settling now. The only other minor disaster was finding the new flat didn't have a TV aerial.

I'll just repeat that for those of you rendered unable to comprehend this.

The new flat. Does not have. A TV aerial.

Apparently this is the 21st century. WHO KNEW. This is being swiftly rectified, if only to avoid a repeat of the sweaty fear that gripped my flatmate and I when we discovered this. We clutched at each other in terror.

AND without the internet we didn't even have iPLAYER. I KNOW.

(Yes, yes, summer, outdoors, frolicking in parks, wine in the sunshine, blah, blah roobarb.. I know, I know.. I don't spend all my time indoors staring at screens, I promise.)

Tell you what, as well. Moving house when you've been out drinking the night before and forgotten to have dinner. Not so fun. I was as surprised as anyone..

Pre-upheaval upheaving

2011-05-17T11:19:00.005+01:00

I have responded sensibly to the date in a few weeks hence set for moving flats by taking all the stuff my parents dumped on my a few months back out of its boxes and leaving it lying around my room. The floor is strewn with school books from twenty-five years ago, old posters, badges, stuff to go to charity shops, old books and tee shirts that haven't fitted me since primary school.

Things I have rediscoveered;

1. I hoard bits of paper like it's going out of fashion. Which I suppose is broadly true. I need to stop this. It is not healthy.
2. I used to be in the Pulp fan club.
3. I also used to be in the Dennis the Menace fan club.
4. I own a pocket watch with a tick so loud it prevents sleep.
5. I own every letter everyone has ever sent me. Ever. And I remain rubbish at replying to correspondence.
6. As a band, Octopus never achieved the kind of fame their promotional materials promised.
7. Lauren Laverne has apparently not aged. At all.

There will be more of this.

In the course of all this rummaging. I have also disturbed ... something. I was woken at 1.30am a few nights back by a muffled scurrying. A fluttering in the boxes on top of my wardobe. It was distressingly loud. The room was dark. I did not investigate.*

So I have to sort out all this STUFF. It's fun, if I can keep my enthusiasm up. Fingers crossed on the move. Everything is signed and sealed. In theory, we just have to pick up the keys in a couple of weeks. Normally flathunting is a deathly experience, but it went okay this time.

*This morning I find that a childhood teddy bear is missing a kidney.

I'm being crippled by the arts

2011-04-12T13:40:00.006+01:00

Financially, I mean. I haven't tripped over a Henry Moore.

The problem is theatre. I'm a bit addicted, I have discovered. I'm totally blaming my parents, for not only introducing me to the medium as a child but also buying me membership to some of capital's best stages. Membership means advance booking. Which means cheap tickets (cheaper than cinema, often).

And my mates. Who either work in theatre, near theatre or like the theatre. Bastards.

And probably the better class of critics too, who keep telling me about the stuff I'd really like to see.

So far this year I've been to nine theatrical productions. I have another two this week. And a few more lined up after Easter*. Cheap seats and all, but it adds up. I looked at my bank account last week and nearly had a conniption. Oopsie.

Of course, I am extremely lucky and fortunate to have anywhere near this kind of access to "the arts"** - which are incredibly valuable, both culturally and eocnomically. I am horrified by the depth of the cuts to the culture scene in the UK. It's madness and must be ended***. It's too the detriment of our existence. Art (drama included) is one of the ways we make sense of the world, and by doing that, we move ourselves forward.

But so much other really important stuff is being cut back on - fairly pointlessly - that it's difficult to direct enough anger in one direction at once.

Yeah I know. I sound pompous. But even if I'm a bit poorer in one sense (because of my poor financial management skillz), I'm certainly richer in others.

I value the arts, is what I'm saying, really.

(And also I need to find a way of making money from this. Where's my column in the Independent on Sunday?! Tsk.)

* Sorry, the Royal Wedding Bank Holiday Eve.

** Well it's what they call it on Radio 4...

*** Sound the long-standing crush klaxon. I was watching Howard's End for all the wrong reasons.

The Age of Terror

2011-03-15T09:04:00.003Z

For all sorts of improbably evolutionary reasons, when you're young you think you're a little bit invincible. Rocks will bounce off you. Of course you could hold that collapsing roof up. This flesh is flame-retardant.

Even as a slightly neurotic young chap, I was still quite firm in the belief that if the house was falling down, I'd still have enough time to grab a few of my favourite things before evacuating. I'd probably still grab my bag before leaving the craft, contrary to all sound advice. Of course a car crashing into me wouldn't break anything. I suppose if I didn't I probably wouldn't have left the house very much (thus, of course, contrarily putting myself in more danger).

Watching some of the footage from Japan makes me realise my point of view has changed. I'm a bit older now. I would just grab my loved ones and run and run and run and not stop to look back.

A list of things I don't like about my bank (thrills!)

2011-03-08T12:04:00.007Z

A couple of weeks ago, my bank did a good thing. Since then, it's done a lot of quite bad things. Bad things it could so easily have not done.

Good thing: My bank phoned me to tell me my debit card details had been found on 'a list' and that they needed to cancel my card. Irritating, but necessary and very helpful of them.

Bad thing one: They couldn't tell me any more information about how my details might have got on this list, where this was found, or how I might stop this happening again.

Bad thing two: It takes 7-10 working days for a replacement card. I mean, really? That long? As a species humanity has put people on our planet's moon, turned sunlight into usable energy* and invented the paperclip. Admittedly, in the cosmic scale of things, these are all quite small achievements. But can it really be that problematic to create a small piece of secure plastic and post it to us? And if it is, explain to me why.

Bad thing three: Not posting it to me. Unlike the normal cards that get sent to my home, because they (not me, they) cancelled this one, I have to sign for it. Ah. So there's no point in sending it to my home. I won't be there. Can you send it to my workplace? No. Oh. WHY?

Bad thing four: Not sending me a letter to say it is ready for collection. Will you? No. because that's, like, really hard. (To be fair, having had customer service letters form my bank before, I'd rather not have another one with typos and grammar errors in. Because they really inspire me with confidence, you know?)

Bad thing five: Sending it to the wrong branch. Okay, so i also accept some fault here. Because when they said, "The branch on X road?" I did not specifically ask if there was more than one branch on that road.

Bad thing six: Open plan style banking branches. I don't want to do my business in front of everyone, thanks.

Bad thing seven: Being able to identify that the card had not arrived (because I was in the wrong branch, of course) but telling me that to find out where it was, I'd have to wait "15-20 minutes" to sit down with someone. Really? At 11am? Really??

The one other slightly good thing: the dude on the phone that said sorry when I phoned to check where it was.

A lot of this comes down to communication. I will put up with quite a lot if people;

1) Explain why something has to happen, straightforwardly and without patronising me.
2) Recognise that things are not going brilliantly, without trying to put the blame for this on me.
3) Say sorry.

It's not difficult. It really isn't.

* Obviously plants got there first with this one, I will admit.

On with the paranoia hat.

2011-03-04T10:36:00.004Z

Am becoming more and more convinced that the Powers That Be are distracting us from all the more important things that are happening by messing with our minds?

I mean, really??

Bar the odd lucky bugger among us who has their dream job, or those that had a above-and-beyond awful experience at school, how many of us would honestly say our working life is somehow better than our school life.

Really? Do we really want to ruin the early lives of young people even more? Don't they have enough stuff to deal with?

Make work and school more fun, I say.

One day, I'll find the off-switch for this indignation. One day. Maybe.

(I know. Link to the Telegraph. Bite me.)

The Guv'Nor

2011-03-01T13:01:00.003Z

We had a school Governors sub-committee meeting last night, of which I am Chair.*

(I know. How do I stand the non-stop excitement that is my kerrr-razy life.)

Always dread the meetings. They stick out in the diary like little clouds of post-work gloom. Commitment made manifest. Last year a friend ran through an exercise with me where you prioritise and rank the things you want to do more of. School Governing came bottom of quite a long list.

But then the meeting was brilliant. We got loads done and it was really energetic. I came away feeling really great and actually useful.

It always happens like this. I really must be less curmudgeonly about my free time.

Still a bit confused as to how I actually became a school governor, not having any of what I imagined to be the normal prerequisites; a child, a severe nervous condition brought on my teaching a small army of 'little darlings' etc. I think I saw it as a way of volunteering.

I'm what they call a community governor (the other kind, aside from parents and teachers, are local authority governors). This means I am supposed to represent the local community, I think.

Word.

Hmm..

* The position of Table having already been filled, obviously.

The Non-Secret Seven

2011-02-18T13:28:00.006Z

I've been tagged! Like ye goode olde dayes on Blogs. I like a good Meme.

Seven random things. Powering up...

1. I spend a fortune on headphones. Like, a lot. Really. It's an ongoing expense. I currently have a Sony pair I bought last year. And they are breaking already. I get through about three pairs a year. Maybe I should be a bit more careful, but they all end up with one ear flickering in and out. I drives me made. What I really need is to find a good person who is handy with a soldering iron.

2. I am good with lyrics. Must be the way my mind works. I think I've logged about this before. Singing along in the shower comes as standard and I WAS JUST SEEING WHAT THE ATTACHMENT DID. So I have a good memory for lyrics. mostly to pretty awful songs. Theme from Ulysses 31? Yeah, hi.It's me, No-no. Small robot you know. (I'm also quite good at identifying who is doing any given voiceover. I am stupidly quite proud of this.)

3. I can do a killer Moira Stewart impression. I have nothing further to say about this.

4. I can tie a cherry stalk into a knot in my mouth. But have yet to find a way of doing that appears in any way sexy. I just look like a spinster aunt sucking a sour boiled sweet.

5. Had I not been born with a Y chromosome, I would have been called Mercia. I have no idea what was going on in my parents' minds with this one. They are normally good and kind people.

6. Don't like scallops. Nup. Not even a little bitty bit. Don't see what all the fuss is about, or why they crop up on Masterchef so often. But, hey, we're all different, right?

7. I like being in my thirties. Of course, statements like this are the harbringers of certain doom. But one of the best things that has ever happened in my life is reaching the point where you accept with perfect amicability that not everyone will like you and you will not like everyone else. It makes the good people worth hanging around for (like meeting the good lady who tagged me in this meme, you know?).

Tag thyselves!

I have basically titted away all the good years, haven't I

2011-02-07T13:41:00.004Z

So, I was re-watching the recent Star Trek film again last night, as one does when one has a spare evening to oneself.

I may have been a little 'tired and emotional' as I found myself welling up a bit at the pre-credits sequence. You know. The bit with the USS Kelvin. Won't say. Spoilers and that.

So it finished and that was really good, still. Then I started watching it again from the beginning with the commentary from the Director and writers and stuff. Because I'm a bit spoddy like that, and have seen it enough times now for some of the magic to be spoiled.

At the point where the big Star Trek logo rocks up for the first time as a sort of title card sortofthing, JJ Abrams notes that he found the genius guy who did this "on the internet" and he was "23".

23.

Internet.

This made me pause a while, and come to the conclusion that I really should have been doing the sort of stuff I really liked a whole lot earlier and with a whole bunch more effort, if I wanted to ever get anywhere doing something I liked doing. (Although I don't actually know what that would be anyway.) Given that I'm now 31.

I mean. This blog has been running on and off, hot and cold, for some years now. I can't imagine anyone is going to come across it and say "YES! THIS GUY! WE NEED HIM FOR OUR MULTI-MILLION POUND COOL PROJECT OF COOLNESS!" are they?

*expectant face*

Dammit!

Especially when, after checking analytics, people are coming here through search terms such as "dougray scott saturday kitchen", "escape pod trump tower" and (my favourite) "bab bap bap ba ba ba".

Although, I am now of course wondering now if Trump Tower has a cool-type awesome escape pod of awesomeness.

Adopts wise pose, steeples fingers, and...

2011-01-31T17:18:00.003Z

Bit of an extreme* week this. On Thursday I attended the cremation of the aforementioned dead grandmother (my first funeral of any description), and then on Saturday I witnessed two very dear mates get hitched.

You'd think that as a result I'd be in a perfect position to offer some kind of worldly-wise profound statement on the circular and ongoing nature of life.

I'm really just far too tired.

I'm sure I'll think of something.

At some point.

Yes.

(* This is a statement made comparative to the rest of my relatively sedate life.)

Funny how stuff pans out.

2011-01-17T13:29:00.004Z

So. I was in the middle of writing a blog post about my Grandad's umbrella. My dad's dad died a few years ago while I was in Morocco. He was a great old duffer and a nice bloke, if a little straightjacketed by his Victorian sensibilities.

I tidied my room just after New Year and somehow misplaced my umbrella. So I grabbed the one my dad's mum (aka Gran) gave me after he died. She is from a generation that can't abide things not being used. It's a good umbrella. Sturdy. Strong. Neat. Keeps the rain off. All the important stuff.

It struck me as I was travelling to a meeting near St Pauls that the umbrella had done this trip before. He used to work around there, and I let my mind wander for a while, imagining the last time it was there and what Grandad would have been doing. It was a nice daydream. I was genuinely fond of my Grandfather.

Same week, we found out that my Mum's Mum (aka The Other Gran. Keep up.) had died. I had to use the umbrella to brave the almost biblical quantities of rain in west London to get over to her flat and help mum out. It's sad but she had a good innings and seems to have gone in her sleep. There are worse ways.

No point to this, I guess. Other than "Huh".

(I should point out I was not close to my Mum's mum, but am obviously doing my best to be there for my mum and sister.)

51 weeks of glorious possibility!

2011-01-11T14:12:00.002Z

One week in, then, and so far the year still feels like a big ol' heap of unknown. I quite like this. The anticipation of stuff happening is often so much more enjoyable than the actual stuff, which quite often involves;

1. a lot of quite dull paperwork,
2. potential financial instability,
3. planning matters in prolapse-inducing detail.

I am not good at any of the above. Well, I'm quite good at financial instability, but not by design.

It's a cliche that the New Year is a time of fresh starts and that, but this year it feels like lots might actually change.

(This is the post they read out after I get mowed down by an anvil delivery truck sometime next week, isn't it?)

2011: A promise

2011-01-04T10:04:00.004Z

(...although not The Promise*.)

I never normally make resolutions. It seems futile to start the year with broken pledges.

But this year, rather than identify something want to stop doing, I've identified something I want to do more of; writing.

I plan to be a bit more organised about this, rather than the 'here and there' approach I've used to date. It's not for any grand purpose; purely my own enjoyment.

Inevitably, this will entail a bit more blogging.

Try and contain your excitement, brave souls.

* Here I am, walking primrose...

waves

2010-11-26T11:57:00.004Z

Seriously. What the hell am I going to get my dad for Christmas?

And what is this obsession that blokes all want hip flasks. Hip flasks!? Really? Is this the best retailers can come up with?

I've used one once. In my whole life. That's not an ideal return on investment.

So. To look at my dad's interests in turn:

Golf: But he hates golf things.
Science / astrophysics: Great. I'll get a timeshare on a quark.
Books: He has loads he has not read yet (also, did that for his birthday).
Growing vegetables: He used to be a farmer. There's not much he needs or needs to know about.
Films: Already got a DVD as a joint Mum and Dad present.
Music: Under embargo since the year three of us bought him the same Jools Holland CD.

He's really not going to be impressed if I rock up with a scarf. We all bring booze home for the holiday anyway, so a bottle of something just screams 'I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO GIVE YOU'. He doesn't collect anything.

Please do not misunderstand me; he's a fascinating and lovely man. But Dads just .. don't seem to fit the consumer matrix.

So I'm turning my baleful, puppy-like eyes to the internet... I can has halps, pls?

Scotland!

2010-10-24T17:14:00.004+01:00

My photos from my trip to Edinburgh are up on my sporadic Flickr account.

I went up with my Mum, and was too lazy to plan anything. So I crowdsourced my holiday. I know! HOW MODERN.

Friends, colleagues and Twitter all came up with some ace suggestions, including:

Delicious breakfast at Urban Angel (try the porridge with heather honey).

The beautiful Museum of Scotland - we only managed two floors as it's packed with stuff, doesn't preach in its explanations and is housed in some stunning buildings.

Excellent food at The Outsider, with outstanding views of the castle.

This is why the internet is a Good Thing: I would never have come across some of these without the help of people I know and do not know.

We also really loved checking out the fine prints and paper goods at The Red Door Gallery and the mighty good food at Valvona & Crolla. And a cosy glass of mid-afternoon wine in the cellar of Whighams, which was conveniently close to our hotel. Staggering distance, some might say.

Brilliant city. Felt like it had real attitude, but a hugely welcoming one. So much to do, but also exactly the kind of place to settle down with a coffee and watch the world go by. Oh yes. I will be going back.

AND on top of all this, I got to meet the very lovely GreatSheElephant. We had coffee, like proper people and eveything. And she knows where to find the finest ground beans in the City. It was brilliant to properly meet the person behind the blog. We nattered away merrily.

Hard as.

2010-10-23T15:03:00.004+01:00

(Well something had to shift Ginger, Sporty and the other ladies off the top spot. They were beginning to get on my nerves a touch.)

So. This week, for the first time in almost twenty five years, I had to cut my nails. All ten of them.

I was a bit rusty. It took a few goes. And I bet I'm not the only one who visibly winces every time those clipper things ping bits of your keratin plates off and into the dark recesses behind the toilet seat.

You see, I've been biting my nails since I was six. They've more or less been my main source of protein during that time. Seriously. Recycling or what? I've often bitten them so low they bleed. Or hang. Or hurt because I've done that thing where you bite a tiny bit off the end but then pull that up to peel a wee thin layer of nail stuff off the front right down to the root, and when I've pulled it off a weird slip of it still remains underneath the eponychium (thank you, Wikipedia). Or ripped off surrounding bits of skin. Eeeeeech! Sorry.

Nervous tic, I suppose. They've definitely always suffered more when I'm stressed or worried. It's quite disgusting, really. In moments of panic, I've had half the fingers of one hand wodged into my frantically chewing gob. Ur.

And even when I have managed to proudly garden up three or four, so they at least have some white at the tips (usually under threat or bribery from my gran), they've been so flimsy and thin they break really easily. Which is disheartening. So I gave up trying. I even got to quite like the taste of that stuff you could paint on to make them taste yucky. Pavlovian response or what.

As a consequence of all this, I've always found blokes with good, solid, well kept but not overly fancy nails strangely attractive..

But then, while I was on holiday a few weeks ago, I just stopped.

Just like that.

Without even trying or thinking about it. All ten fingers. In the past I've always allowed myself the thumbs or forefingers as sacrifices to try and keep my mouth away from the others.

These are strange times.

And they are quite strong. Only one broke, and it grew back really quickly.

Which means I've been able to discover something; nails rock! No, really. I know most of you already know this, but you can use them for loads of really useful things.

Like;

- opening cans and tins that have ring pulls, without the aid of nearby teaspoons
- scratching bits of you
- picking at stuff (accidentally gave myself a nosebleed...)
- scraping off stuff
- doing that tapping your nails thing when you're bored or thinking like they do in films.

They're brilliant! Rev! Va! Lation!

Then yesterday, I realised that I've started pulling out individual facial hairs instead of biting my nails.

..Bugger..

In other news; I'm thinking of setting up shop again with a new blog, amended identity and general fresh start. Lots has been happening lately I need to write about. Watch this space. I AIN'T DEAD!

Channeling the Force

2010-07-23T12:52:00.003+01:00

It could have all been so different.

I remember when Channel 5 started. Long before it went all Five up in our faces. There was an amusing one-off Hospital thing with Celia Imrie in funny nurse hats... and the endless showreel loop before the launch...

You can tell what era it was by the clip above.

But anyway. Reading this is interesting. What's that? IBA recommends a channel situated somewhere beyond Birmingham?* And only now are the Beeb doing the decent thing and upping sticks (in part) to different parts of the country.

Don't get me wrong, I live in the centre of the Universe (or London as we let it be called elsewhere), but contrary to all popular thinking, other stuff happens elsewhere. The London experience is not everyone's experience. Why did EVERYTHING have to end up here?

Roll on the BBC Provinces channel.

* Surely no.

A different kind of Chap.

2010-07-14T11:21:00.002+01:00

"Well to be honest, after years of smoking and drinking, you do sometimes look at yourself and think, you know, just sometimes between that first cigarette with coffee in the morning to that 400th glass of corner shop piss at 3AM, you do sometimes look at yourself and think...this is fantastic."
Bernard Black

...I never said they had to be real. And grumpy people are funny. And funny is cool.

Here come the Chaps! (ba-ba-bap-a-ba-ba! ba ba-ba ba ba bah! etc.)

2010-06-07T11:19:00.004+01:00

Ma-ha! A blog post! Now you weren't expecting THAT, were you, Meeester Bond?

Let's get thematic. Seems as if GQ magazine have published some kind of list of The Coolest Men.

Hmm. Well. Let's sweep straight over the fact that there are least three people on that list I'm totally unfamiliar with, and head straight into the territory marked "surely I can do this better".

I mean. Prince Harry. Really?

So I'm doing my own list. In stages. Bite-sized-blog-chunks, or 'Blunks' if you will.

Boz's List of Ice-Cold Chaps

In at Ten, it's Alexander von Humboldt.

Once at a party, long ago, a delightful woman turned to me on the topic of en-famed baby names, and queried "Do you know of any great Alexanders?". Being the smart-arsed little oik I am, I was quick to point out the obvious one she had omitted.

But if I had waited a few more years, then upon reading Alain de Botton's The Art of Travel, I would have had a better answer.

Namely, that one of the greatest of Alex's is Mister Von Humboldt.

Why?

1. He got everywhere. The man must have had enough passport stamps to warrant their own museum.

2. He has a type of penguin, lily, squid, skunk and various tress and shrubs named after him. In fact, he gets his own wikipedia page of things named after him.

3. He called the last decade of his life his "improbable years", which is delightful.

4. The man was a bit ahead of his time on the whole holistic approach to nature business. If alive today, one suspects he'd be the kind of bloke amiable talking around people like BP into cheerfully reorganising themselves into Butterfly Protection plc.

5. Explorer, diplomat, artist, scientist... A bit of a polymath, he had a truly global outlook on life and acquired a vast mass of knowledge that he carefully wrote down to leave to the rest of us.

Finally, and I do not have anything on hand to prove it, but I strongly suspect he was a humanist. IE, not one of those terribly British pricks who went about the world conquering and raping "Johnny Foreigner". I mean, he couldn't have been anyway, because he was German, but you catch my drift. Less gung-ho, more gung-hello-nice-to-meet-you.

Fab. Just fab.

Surely it's time to celebrate the man's life in a graphic novel, or some kind of Dan Brown book using the various statues of him littered around the known world, no?

Men nine through one to follow at my leisure. Any suggestions..?

PS: Look! Quinquireme has blogged too! *SCREAM!* and then *runs off to read*

The view from here.

2010-05-06T12:01:00.003+01:00

Vote. Go on. You know you want to.

I know this is not going to make any kind of difference, as I suspect almost anyone likely to come across this blog will have already done so. But do, really. Do.

It's a bit trite, but I've been trotting out the line that various people in history have died so you could do what you can do today. It is a fundamental act of our democracy.

So there.

Rock on!

An Education, thanks

2010-03-23T21:11:00.002Z

This month I paid off my student loans, as those of you on Twitter might have seen.

Sorry, I'm just going to type that out again because it hasn't quite sunk in yet.

I paid off my student loans.

It's taken a decade. Well over three times the length of time I was at Uni.

In the grand scheme of stuff, I was pretty lucky. Being one of the last ILEA kids, I also went though Uni just before tuition fees came in. So I left with just under £5,000 of debt.

Just to say again, it's taken ten years.

Okay, okay. Anyone with half their wits can see I'm not very good at budgeting or handling money. I'm first to admit that. Me? Money? Generally pretty hapless (although I do have a pension. MADNESS.).

But it never really bothered me when I left education, as everyone I knew was in the same amount of debt, and it would be ages before we had to think about paying it off..

It's at this point that I have to mention that most of the people leaving Uni I speak to now, leave with well over £20,000 of debt.

Which, at the rate I went, would take somewhere between thirty and forty years to pay off. Thirty years of guaranteed debt. Debt that's normal. Expected. Run-of-the-mill.

Yeah. Not sure I'd go to Uni now either.

I feel like the Word Warlock

2010-03-19T11:46:00.003Z

All thanks to the amazing wordle word cloud machine.

Purty.

In other news, if Blogger serious do not sort out all these spam comments, I shall flee this place. I just deleted thirty. THIRTY.

Third coffee in

2010-03-19T10:37:00.002Z

Today I am wearing my new yellow shirt.

THRILLS.

Sweet disposition.

2010-02-23T13:10:00.004Z

What.

What?

What is it?

Stop looking at me. I'm not doing anything.

Yes I know I haven't blogged for a while.

I'VE BEEN BUSY.

Well, work. And stuff. You know.

Yes I know I still manage to find the time to watch Doctor Who trailers and follow Glee. What of it?

Don't look at me like that. I have nothing to say.

No, really, my mind is blank. I have nothing. No. Thing. Nada..

No I'm not going to blog about Glee and Doctor Who.

Because I think there enough people out there doing that, and more engagingly and amusingly than I wou.. what do you mean "that's never stopped me before"?!

I'm not, until you take that back.

Well for someone who just wants me to play you've got a funny way of going about it. that's all I'm saying.

No I'm not grumpy.

I SAID I'M NOT BEING GRUMPY.

...

Okay.

Well.

There you are then.

Yes, okay, I love you too.

Yes I meant that.

No, really, I did. No honestly!

Look me in the eyes! I really did! I'm just.. grumpy...

Well okay then. So long as that's sorted out.

Yeah but who listens to TEENAGERS?!

2010-02-04T12:56:00.003Z

Yes, but.

I think that means I'm officially in the same category as 33 and third RPMs and platform shoes.

Aces.

"Now apply the ointment twice daily, and if the swelling persists after a week, come back and see me again."

2010-01-26T12:08:00.005Z

I've been tagged by the Patrician known as GreatSheElephant!*

I love this. It's old-skool blogging practice. You can't really tag someone on Twitter.

The gist of the jolly wheeze here is to identify a character in a novel you most resemble.

Hmmmm. Toughie.

I can think of some charcters I'd like to be associated with.. but one that I think is like me?? Heavens.

It's a bit worrying that I've been thinking about this for a week and got no further. Novels are supposed to speak to one, aren't they?

Right.

First choice: The male protagonist in Sarah Waters' The Little Stranger. Partly because of the era, and because I think if I was born a hundred years ago or whatever, I would have been that second-son type, shuffled off into the clergy or medicine. If I were not a modern day urban twit, a rural GP's life for me.

Second choice: Mr Topsy-Turvy, c/o Roger Hargreaves and my youngest nephew.

I'm going to keep thinking about this one..

* Incidentally, one of my favourite Patrician moments in the Discworld books is the delightful revelation that he does not listen to musicians, but prefers to read the neat order of sheet music. Sublime. ***mentally sets aside time to re-read Discworld novels***

And I get to snack as much as I like!

2010-01-21T10:15:00.002Z

I'm working form home today.

It's great!

Even the smallest achievement warrants playing this really loudly and running around the flat with my arms aloft.

THEY WON'T LET ME DO THAT IN THE OFFICE.

I may have to calm down slightly when the man arrives to repair the boiler.

Although I am being very productive. Maybe I should start getting over-excited in the workplace..

Possibly Overheard*

2010-01-15T09:31:00.004Z

"So it turns out he wasn't self-harming at all, just trying to get a splinter out. We're off high alert and the marigolds are back under the sink."

"Where do they get all these people in the sofa and bed sale adverts? Where do they find them? Darling it's simply too Basingstoke. So distressing."

"You're so much more entertaining when hungover."

* Because there is little point in having all this at home on bits of paper.

This is not going to become one of those dull torso-related perving blogs..

2010-01-14T11:31:00.006Z

I promise.

I'm not going to start posting up pictures of celebrities with their tops off, along with variations on dribbling sounds or 'pwoar'. Who I do or do not have small daydreams about is less interesting for anyone else.

However, exceptions have to be made when it's a hitherto undiscovered BBC Weatherman.

I mean, wow. That's a whole lot of impressive gym work right there.

But it's so unexpected. It's like finding out that your account has superpowers, or that Terry Wogan is secretly running the UN.*

Bet he's getting some stick in the BBC office today, though.

It comes hot on the polished middle-class heels of this piece in yesterday's Times2, which explores the male obsession with having a six pack and perfect abs. Which is quite a good read, if a bit, well, 'dur'. Vanity is hardly a new sin, is it.

In this piece, Men's Health claim they don't 'editorialise' for gay men. I'm sorry? Come again? It does smack slightly of saying the party line through gritted teeth, without wishing to alienate all the hetero audience (who probably don't give a monkeys anyway if they genuinely spend time in the gym). But have you seen the adverts in Men's Health!? WHO ARE THEY KIDDING? It's either the female gaze or the gay gaze at work..

Now, I stand here** as someone who has recently started going to the gym again in a big way. I know. Hypocrite, right? But I'm not kidding myself. While there is caramel shortbread and bacon sandwiches in this world I am never going to be that person.

BUT HOLD THE FRONT er BLOG POST.

Turns out Mr Schafernaker is far more endearing on other counts, not just his impressive physique. He gets the giggles. On an epic, Charlotte Green scale. Brilliant!

Check out his unfortunate Glastonbury forecast. And then there is this glorious video clip...

Tomasz Schafernaker has even spawned his on fan blog. Amazing.

I'm predicting a hot front coming in from the south...

In summary: Nawwwwwww.

* Although actually I do firmly believe our work accountant does have superpowers. He's the most sorted, sane, with it and nice guy you'll ever meet. The rest of us are barely able to hold it together.

** Sitting, ackshully. Don;t believe everything you read on the t'internets, kids!

Disney WIN as far as I'm concerned

2010-01-13T11:08:00.003Z

Bit behind the times with this one. But this rather cool video clip shows that Disney was way ahead of us all on the whole recycling thing.

Oh c'mon. We've probably all done the creative equivalent of a bit of copy and paste at times, right?

(See also the email viral doing the rounds at the moment showing how Avatar is plotwise rather similar to Pocahontas. But it's the way you tell 'em, surely! There are only seven plots or something anyway, I'm told..)

Um, no thanks, BBC News Online?

2010-01-12T11:03:00.002Z

Yeah! In your face, public! Watch THIS!

Less flattering lighting..? Shoddier props..?

2010-01-08T11:17:00.004Z

I'm suffering a sever attack of spam commentators. Which is pointless because I have moderation on the whole time anyway.

I let one through the other day, because it sounded like my mum telling me how good my blog is. Naww. But now I can't find what post it was attached to to point this out to people. Damn.

This morning, this was waiting for my approval:

Any idea how credit crunch affected porn?

In other words, has it suffered a "down turn". BOOM BOOM.

The mind boggles. I suspect it's a fairly strong industry at the moment. Well, with all this snow and people trapped indoors with nothing to do.. draw your own conclusions, if not the curtains.

I wonder what out of work pronstars do next...

No. I have to stop thinking about this.

It's not as if they invested much in the script for these things in the first place, so there's no money to be saved there. Which would frankly make all the difference. Even in British Pron.

It's all a bit grubby around here this morning, isn't it?!

**HEATING UPDATE**

Turns out the boiler has leaked all over the tea supply in the kitchen. DISASTER. CODE BROWN, CODE BROWN!!

Luckily we have lino. "We have to be able to mop, with Dad's habits..."

Lord of the Trims: The Return of the Gym

2010-01-07T10:48:00.003Z

**cue 70s Japanese cinema-style gong noise**

I upped and went to the gym this morning. In a slightly undignified these-shoes-were-not-designed-for-ice manner. First time there in I would estimate four months. And before work. Get moi!

I lasted less than fifteen minutes on the treadmill before I wanted to chunder.

However, I made free with the showers afterwards, which was lovely as ours is still not back up to full working order. Tomorrow morning: The Return of Barry.

Does it show that I have not yet turned on Twitter in 2010? I'm enjoying the lack of distraction. Think I'll have to be more disciplined about things this year.

(Mahahahahahaha).

Some things in life are simply undeniable

2010-01-06T16:02:00.004Z

Looking for certainties at the moment.

Suffering under strange bout of knackeredness syndrome after festive period. Maybe it's cold turkey from drinking and OTT foods. Sleeping like a dog every night. Feels like January is some kind of halfway-house twilight zone.. strange weather, civic upheaval, odd programmes on the telly.

I'm fast retreating into a world of early nights and good books.

So it's good to know that there are still some certainties in life a post-modern gentleman chap can still grasp hold of.

Namely, Moira Stuart is just quite simply cool as fuck.

Leg. End.

(I'm clearly feeling a bit studenty-militant today. Hence the swear. Sozza'bout that.)

Christmas 2009 - an addendum

2010-01-04T16:14:00.004Z

The festivities came to a momentary halt at the Boz family home this year:

"That Harry Potter figure given to youngest nephew is very accurate."

"Yeah, but he's much shorter than that in the films."

"Yes, but, it's so detailed you can tell which way Harry is dressing."

Pause, as 80 per cent of the family momentarily fall silent and stare at the figure clutched by blissfully ignorant five year old.

(To the right, it turns out.)

The Sn4wmen

2010-01-04T13:11:00.003Z

Our boiler has broken down. Some kind of pump malfunction. Up to this point the Worcester Flyover Combi thing has been ever reliable. Now it can heat water, but not transport it anywhere around the flat. Which is annoying.

The boiler man (Barry) is coming around today. In the meantime we bought a small fan heater at the weekend, to help keep us alive. We quickly monikered this Fanny. It's the only time in the last ten years I've been interested in anything with this name.

But now we are very interested. Wherever Fanny goes, we follow. It can only heat one room at a time. IE, the one we are in.

Yesterday I went to the gym to use the shower, due to the lack of hot water. I'd just changed home branch, so I had to go and find where it exactly was, first. I 'fessed up to the nice lady behind the desk and said I was only there to get clean.

The evening before, we both went to the cinema to keep warm. We watched Sherlock Holmes, which ripped along at a firey pace, and was quite good. Am I the only person that thinks Downey Jnr sounds a bit like Sean Bean in Goldeneye, though?

"Closing time, Watson!".

At the cinema, I noticed some things about the current Clapham popluation:

1. All the men above thirty take all their style cues from whoever the current male lead in Spooks is.
2. All women want to be Florence from Florence and the Machine.
3. Many women have no idea how big their handbags actually are.

I am hoping the boiler man can fix the boiler today. Please please please.

On the plus side, this is probably helping my pledge to cut down on energy usage this year.

Day Twenty Blinkin' Four - "Twoots" (Tweets and Hoots, you see)

2009-12-24T08:51:00.004Z

Well look at that! The end of Further Advents 2009! Okay so I missed a few days here and there along the way.. SUE ELLEN ME.

All that remains is to wish you all a very, very Merry Christmas. I honestly hope you have a brilliant one, you lovely people.*

I'll probably muster up some kind of 'this was 2009' type post in the course of the next week. But for now, I wanted to shamelessly nick stuff from that other place - whisper it! - Twitter, for my final Further Advents post. It'll probably have been replaced by something else by this time next year, and I don't trust twitter with some of my favourites, you see, so they need to be recorded for posterity somewhere.

I realise this is bit like reading them out into a cassette recorder.

I'M SUCH A HOARDER!!

So, here are some of the best Tweets I've seen in the last twelve months. I would link to the author's Twitter account. Only I can't be arsed, you see. And no I haven't put the date and time of each tweet, but they are in reverse order, from now back to January.

It's all very fly-on-the-slice-of-life here today, you see.

Here we go now, 2009 - A YEAR IN TWEETS:

@sueperkins Pamela Anderson and Vivienne Westwood; the yin and yang of skin tone...

@patroclus Trying Google Wave again. It's like the internet imagined by Chris Morris. "To read through unread blips in a wave, hit the spacebar." What?

@annapickard Phoning boyfriend (currently in Suffolk) to find out if he knows where my shoes (currently within a 10m radius of me in San Francisco) are.

@EmmaK67 Zoe Lucker looks like a pregnancy testing kit

@caitlinmoran CRISIS! Watched first 4 eps of Criminal Justice at the weekend = brilliant. Just watched the last one now and it's a bit ... meh. Noooo ....

Apart from ANYTHING ELSE, I'm 600 words into calling it the best drama of the year. I'm going to have to do some sharp cornering tomorrow

Two wheels off the ground, airbags inflating, screeching brakes, kids crying in the back, etc. "MUMMY'S REVERSING A REVIEW!"

@DerrenBrown Just spent 5 mins looking for my slippers to find I was wearing them. Don't tell anyone, it doesn't fit the brand at any level.

@caitlinmoran Just had a coffee so strong, all I can do for the next hour is sit on this chair and scream like Bacon's Pope Innocent X

@OyeBilly In 1984 I was hospitalised for approaching perfection.

@RealBoswell Am Packing for London TRIPPE: Flintlock, Bible, and loading iPod with Greatest Speeches of Lord BUTE. Also Shortbread for DEMPSTER.

@BDooley I just caught a few minutes of Loose Women while looking for the remote. Emmeline Pankhurst must wonder why she bothered.

@patroclus I realise that 'the poshest house in Penryn' is a bit like saying 'the most expensive item on the McDonald's menu'.

@caitlinmoran Contrary to everything I'd believed before, it turns out that drinking until 5.28am is a terrible idea.Literally re-writing my own rule book.

The rule book entitled "What The Fuck, Blarp, There's Definitely A Bottle of Rose In The Crisp Cupboard, Let's Dance!", published 1993

@caitlinmoran When I watched Home Alone aged eight, I rooted for the kid's inventiveness, and nerve. Now, at 34, I just see Joe Pesci's osteopath bills.

@geoffwetblanket Just bought Simian Mobile Disco & Calvin Harris CDs. I am 47.

@caitlinmoran It's now nine days since Simon Schama friended me on Facebook, and we've still not hit the clubs and got messy. No shots. No Lucky Voice.

@bobbyllew My dreadful son is saying, 'The MacBook air is not as thin as they say it is.' How can he be so cruel?

@bebopboy dear apple, if you get a spare moment, would you be a dear and buy and knock into shape adobe's apps. someone's got to do it. thanks a mil!

@caitlinmoran A re-Tweet from Maggie Philbin! *air punch*

@delrico had no idea how many of my Twitter friends worked in Soho til someone decided to burn it down. I'm only up the road in smoke free Noho!

@BDooley I have returned from Hot, where I had a case of Legs.

@mermhart Just walked past a horse. It looked at me then farted. I farted back.

@bebopboy are hotel websites the last hold-outs of flash intro screens? it's 2009 - stop it at once

@calvinharris Well I've never done a gig with my house keys in my pocket before.

@IanMartin My Dansette was made in 1963. The 21st Century can fucking EAT MY STYLUS. 'Sound'? I've got ON/OFF & extra treble if you leave the lid up.

@NotTinyFey Oh you kids these days. I can't tell which one is a hipster and which one's a hobo. You're all wearing beards, plaid, and riding a bike.

@BettyUtility Hmm, Diversity on BGT appear to feature a miniature Zadie Smith ...

@BeBopBoy attempting to make dinner for six tonight. on the menu: mild panic, arm flapping and a side of pans crashing

@emilybell My mum would like to be digitally included, but she would prefer a hip replacement #digitalbritain

@patroclus Trench update: mother-in-law issued instructions for it, husband dug it, I admired it, baby ignored it, father-in-law fell into it.

@james_blue_cat Got married, had pasty xx all.

@LeighHolmwood Have had to de-follow Carol McGiffin. Couldn't bear it any longer

And finally, quite literally my favourite of the year:

@emilybell LEAVE HIM CHERYL! sorry - got carried away #brits

In short: I hearts Caitlin Moran** and some other peoples. Oh dear. SYCHOPHANCY R US.

Also, I am now alone in the office crying with laughter at my desk. Oh dear again.

Phew! Settle back in the holiday, Blogosphere, and have an amazing Christmas.

* Apart from the spammers. Obvs.

** Catch her now, before she vanishes behind a pay wall!

Day Twenty Two - A Plea

2009-12-22T12:29:00.003Z

Today's advent contains nothing more than my heartfelt plea to ignore every piece of advice found in this piece.*

Get over this one as well, while you're there.

I'll be stuffing myself silly, until I have sprouts coming out of my ears. Because it's traditional.**

Marvellous!

* I know. The DM. Sozza.

** This sounds pretty selfish since there are people starving in the world, I know. But it continues in the vein of my long-running campaign that food is once of the last pleasures humanity has. Enjoy it while you can.

Day Twenty One - Cake!

2009-12-21T13:27:00.002Z

From possibly the most brightly coloured shop in the world.

Still. Helps Monday pass deliciously.*

* Where did all this work come from? It's supposed to be quiet this week, n'ah?!

Day, Er, Twentine - "Stuff"

2009-12-20T17:56:00.002Z

Everyone should read this. Good reminder of the junk science we've been fed this year. Go Goldacre!

And for no reason other than it was on the same page this piece took my fancy. Where's a flashmob of painters led by Hannah Gordon when you need one!?

And an extra dose of "Oh I say!" as I missed yesterday.

I'm drowning in red wine. Someone please help.

Day Eighteen - only on telly

2009-12-18T09:50:00.000Z

Day Seventeen - all decked out

2009-12-17T11:57:00.004Z

We decorated the flat last night.

The Christmas tree me and my flatmate have is adorned with some very tasty but sparingly-used Habitat baubles. V classy, like.

But further upwards, the tree has a touch of Doctor Who about it...

Day Sixteen - uhhhhhhhhh

2009-12-16T09:44:00.001Z

Can everyone please be shushy. Quiet time. Stillness. Yes.

Day Fifteen - The Letter X

2009-12-15T16:06:00.001Z

I'd type some copy here, only I'm too busy drooling... arggllllgghgglll....

Day Fourteen - Just Utter Brilliance

2009-12-14T11:22:00.003Z

While I was perusing the weekend papers - pain au chocolat in hand, sophisticated Radio 4 chit-chat on the background, a mere hint of Monster Munch flavouring the air - I saw this very interesting article. It explores the idea that toys and stuff for little girls has become overwrought with sugar, spice and all that's nice. Well, pink mainly. I can see their point. There's nothing wrong with little girls liking girly stuff, if that's their desire, but not everything has to be lurid pink, right?

Anyway, the point was the piece was illustrated by one of the most awesome poster adverts I have ever seen. T'is found here.

How totally cool and awesome is that little girl??!

And them. And these two.

Brilliant! Totally makes me think of my childhood. And my older sister.

I'll say it again. Lego was one of my best toys EVER. My youngest nephew is just getting into it, and I'm proud to say that some of his huge pile comes from my stuff and my sister's. Which means some of it is over thirty five years old. How's that for longevity!?

This Christmas I shall mostly be looking forward to making some Lego sets becauseofcoursehecan'tdoitsowhydoesn;tUncleBozjusthelpyououttherehmm?

Amazing.

Day Thirteen - Shall we wait for vicar..?

2009-12-13T12:13:00.002Z

Another inspired piece of nostalgic advertising c/o TV Cream and TV Ark.

Day Twelve - Gentleman Rhyming

2009-12-12T13:06:00.003Z

I don't listen to much Radio 6, but I caught a bit last night and something came on which totally fired up my Amazingness Alert.

Ukuleles!

Gentleman rapping!

Ladies and gents, may I present, the awesome sonic stylings of Mr.B (Gentleman Rhymer):

And there's a Christmas song to download free at his MySpace site (check out I Say, You! while you're there).

Toodle-oo!

**UPDATE**

Found the link on iPlayer to the BBC 6 show. It's here for a limited time only, refunds not available etc etc... check out 48 minutes in...

Day Eleven - Obscura

2009-12-11T09:36:00.004Z

This has been something of a busy week at work, with lots of traipsing to and from meetings across town. Quite satisfying to get a lot done though. But it does feel like I've lost touch a bit with everything else - and I certainly haven't had any time to sit and just *be still*.

Also, it being the season, my liver is working at full capacity. She cannae take much more cap'n. And the alcohol is playing havoc with my emotional state. Last night I almost burst into tears twice at the theatre.

And now for something completely irrelevant; a selection of random pictures from my iPhone:

There we are then.

Day ten - continuing yesterday's theme...

2009-12-10T17:00:00.003Z

It's only funny because it's true.

What's that about a fine line between comedy and tragedy..?

Day Nine - the ghost of Christmas past..

2009-12-09T08:48:00.003Z

I used to be retail bitch. A checkout Charlie. A stockroom stooge.

All these things and yet more. I won't say exactly where.* But during Uni, and a couple of years after Uni I worked in retail, which included the Christmas period.

I am in no way getting snobby. Everyone does jobs like this, at any stage of life, that may not exactly their dream career, and those who haven't should do. It's like a kind of national service, where you're forced to experience the business end of the Great British Public for a few years to really SEE what we're like. Anita Roddick once said "show me someone with a deep loathing for all humanity, and I'll show you someone who works in retail" and she really wasn't just whistling dixie.

I have some awesome memories of those jobs. Mostly about the other people and the drinking because quite often we were all bored to tears, but it taught me stuff I still use in day-to-day life and my work today. So ner. Yes, I know I sound like I'm about to say "what you need is a bloody good war". But sometimes that's a little what it felt like.

Especially at Christmas.

So for today's advent, let's all take a few moments and spare a thought for the good people of retail who are generally Making Our Christmas Happen For Us. The bar people, the supermarket bods and all the people we hand cash to in return for some things we give to other people.

Because it's not a great time of year for them. Working right up to Christmas Eve setting up stuff for the sales after the shop closes, and being back in on Boxing Day doesn't leave much time for stuff with family or friends.** The hours are long, the pay is usually fairly rubbish and sometimes it can be another form of care in the community for the regular customers.

Ages I shoved on here my "light-hearted" guide to Christmas shopping, but please spare a thought for the person who's helping you shop. Not only are there millions of us, we're quite grumpy and demanding. And we hate queues. And we'll get in a right tizz if that store doesn't happen to have the plates in the right colour, or this dress in the right size. trust me on this. I had people spit at me.***

What's more, by this time of year they are already note perfect on the Christmas CD that's been sent by Head Office that year. And never, ever, want to hear any of it again. It's never the the good Christmas music, it's always, always some disco version of Little Donkey that was released in 1973.

So, take a moment and say a nice thanks to the next person that helps you out with something for Christmas. G'waan.****

* Happy Holidays! Would you like a gift receipt or gift box with that turtle neck jumper?

** I have never understood this country's obsession with getting up early and going shopping the day after Christmas. Are we, like, mad? There's telly on. And more food. And fami.. ohIseeeee.

*** And old ladies throw handbags at you before flashing you.

**** Even you smug types that have "finished" all your Christmas shopping. You still have food shopping or something to do.

Day Eight - Cok!

2009-12-08T16:34:00.005Z

No, nothing like that behind this blog-door, thank you.*

This kind of Cok.

(c/o Bertie Deane.)**

* Mind you, let's not rule anything out once we open the festive sherry, what?

** What do you mean, "I'm just raiding my Twitter favourites for stuff to bung up on the internets?" This is carefully selected, hand-crafted blog material from the finest purveyors, I shall have you know. Quality posts, honestly priced.***

*** IE, free.****

**** I have reached the point where the footnotes are bigger than the post. I think I may be in web-nirvana.

Day Seven - Anish Kapoor

2009-12-07T23:38:00.001Z

At the Royal Academy of Arts.

Day six - ehhrrm, summery music...

2009-12-06T16:31:00.003Z

We'll just move right along and forget about day five, shall we? Shall we lets? Hokay then.*

So. Advent day six. I'm not encouraging you to go and spend money, but this is very good.

You can have a bit of a listen here and also here.

Hooray!

And now back to Sunday.

* Abject, abject failure of the exercise...

Day Four. Over-excitement.

2009-12-04T10:01:00.003Z

You know how some Decembers you really feel Christmas, and others you don't?

This year I am really feeling Christmas. By the time the actual thing comes around I could well be a gibbering, shaking wreck of tinsel, wrapping paper and fairy lights.* I'm very much in danger of boring people a bit, I think.

I'm already so excited I actually baked actual mince** pies this week. Actual. Mince. Pies. And they weren't bad either.***

So today's advent is the recipe for, that's right folks, mince pies. I found this on the intermawebs c/o the lovely BBC here.

I'm sure I'm not the only one champing at the Christmas bit, either. It's been a rubbish year for a lot of people, for a lot of reasons. I think everyone needs an excuse to have some fun.

I shall stop there, for fear of turning my diatribe into that of an elderly and well-meaning parish vicar..

Mince on!

* And that's before the parental homemade wine comes out.
**Stopit.
*** Okay the second batch weren't bad. The first were.. a touch crispy.

Day Three and already we're stealing YouTube clips

2009-12-03T13:15:00.002Z

Weeeellllllll it was only a matter time before some YouTube goodness popped up. And I'm shamelessly stealing from another adventy-themed undertaking form the spankingly marvellous TV Cream.

Some 1980s' Christmas telly adverts? Oh I think so.

(Personally, I think that Mandate one looks a bit, well, assault-ish, if you ask me. Also I think we've found out what the Oxo mum has been doing when that family finally get out of the house.)

Muppets on Christmas? Go on then.

(originals are here and here and really you should also be following TV Cream on Twitter).

Tia Maria, anyone?

But on the second day there were two discoveries

2009-12-02T08:50:00.003Z

Two revelations for the second day of "festive" blogging:

1. Kylie Auldist (who I have my flatmate to thank for). Check out Ship in a Bottle on her myspace page. Or if you're fancy you can spotify her*.

2. It turns out I'm not the 30x32 trouser size I thought I was (or was certain I was a decade ago). I's a 32x30! I'm actually shrinking and expanding! This may explain the technical problems I have been having when buying jeans.

I know. Do try and carry on as normal after the shock.

Yes I know they are neither of them festive. What do you want to me to do? Say it with tinsel!? "TINSEL".

* I don't quite understand spotify yet. I'm sure I will. I'm a Last.FM bod you see - come friend me up!

On the first day of Christmas...

2009-12-01T16:51:00.005Z

...my true parents gave to me, a big pile of crap belonging to me!

I'm not kidding. My dad took me to visit my Gran this weekend. Mother phoned me a few days before hand to ask if it was alright if he dropped off one or two books of mine that were still at my parents place.

Of course not, I said.

Foolish, foolish error.

Turns out that "a few books" equates to six boxes, seven bags and my parents rubbing their hands with glee. I am literally surrounded by tat and toot. My bed is marooned in a sea of cardboard.

I have NO idea where I'm going to put this stuff. Books, children's books, old toys, school uniforms, exercise books, a disco ball, LPs... it goes on. Oxfam and Save The Children on Clapham High Street are going to get a sizeable chunk, I reckon. It's time to say goodbye to a few things.

The posters are worth a special mention. Some awesome Tim Hunkin ones I wouldn't mind seeing framed, but a whole LOT of 90's music posters. Mostly free ones that came with Select. Ash, Sleeper, Boo Radleys, Oasis... am I too old to put

Don't blame the parents though. They live in a tiny wee place, and my stuff cluttering up their space is most unfair. It's going to be interesting sorting out the stuff here where I live, rather than under their roof. Some tough decisions will be made.

And now to Freecycle, to try and find some shelves...

**UPDATE**

I'm two boxes in and already have genuine fear. Turns out keeping everything I've ever been given and everything anyone ever sent me may not have been such a tip-top idea. People, I'm a hoarder...

**SECOND UPDATE**

I thought I'd unpack all the books, to see if I can group them together and just sort of see where I am. Unfortunately it turns out there where I am is surrounded by piles of books and having a small nervous breakdown.

We are a GO for seasonal merriment! Launching mince pie rocket guns!

2009-11-30T11:12:00.002Z

I still enjoy pottering about here.

So, brace yourselves, I think I'm going to do the Further Advents thing again (click the tag below for more seasonal drivel) and see if I can blog SOMETHING every day up until Christmas.

I know it's still a bit early. But our neighbours put up their Christmas tree the third week in November. So we had them shot. Obviously.

* How very Churchillian. Someone told me the other day that David Cameron's lead speechwriter is 27. I may vomit.

The Conversation

2009-11-20T11:54:00.006Z

Over recent days several important family phone calls have happened that often take place at this time of year.

Mum phoned me and just HAPPENED to mention there is a Simon Callow thing that looks quite good.

A day later I phoned mum to ask IF she was coming down to London around her birthday in December, could she CONFIRM the date.

Mum phoned back to CONFIRM what date she would be coming up to town around her birthday. I am pleased. Mother also happens to mention that I should call my sister to find out what she wants for Christmas.

Dad phones to tell me about some funny pictures he has caught while on a trip to France (well done, dad):

I phone my sister to find out what she wants for Christmas. She has no idea what she wants for Christmas, but informs me that she has already bought Mum's birthday present and one of MY Christmas presents. I panic slightly. Sister also goes on to outline what The Wonderful Nephews want for Christmas.

I call my bank manager.

Mother calls to ask why I haven't told her what I want for Christmas. I say I will think about this.

Some time later I call sister back to find out what she is buying Mum for birthday and Christmas. Sister demands to know what I would like for Christmas. I say (somewhat triumphantly) that I actually have a LIST. Sister is pleased but on top deck of bus with a five year old who is apparently trying to 'encourage' OAPs to join in his game with a plastic dinosaur, so cannot write a number of highly detailed and specific items down. OAPs appear frightened.

I am required to email my Christmas wishes to the females I share my genes with. In practical terms, this means emailing it to the members of the family who DO have email addresses; eldest nephew and father.

IN SUMMARY: This could all go horribly wrong and I will get socks again (although, if mother is involved, they are likely to be fairly awesome socks).

Coat? Check. Scarf? Check. iPod? Check.

2009-11-08T20:49:00.004Z

It's been a good while since I posted one up here, but every year I do a winter playlist for m'AYEpod.

I'm not sure why.

Maybe it's because I like the cold and the way it makes me feel. All very melodramatic I'm sure but I do like swooshing through fallen leaves feeling morbid and gloomy.

I have just completed this year's playlist, thanks to some help from The Twitterati and recent people on Teh Blogz. ANDITGOESALITTLESOMETHINGLIKETHIS..

(in no particular order - shuffle being the order of the day. Or commute.)

(Yes. Spotify. I know. I'm very not of this year. Sorry chucks.)

White Winter Hymnal - Fleet Foxes (c/o Prompt Communications
Sometimes in Winter - Saint Etienne (c/oProject76 - and it turns out the Etienne crew have written a WHOLE lotta songs about this time of year..)
Sylvia - The Antlers (c/o Mr Worth
Million Dollar Bill (Freemasons Remix) - Whitney Houston (c/o BeBopBoy)
To Build A Home - Cinematic Orchestra feat. Patrick Watson (c/o the King and Queen of Crystal Palace)
The Redeemer - The Underwolves
Symphony #69 - Pogo (c/o Last.fm)
Empire State of Mind - Jay-Z feat. Alicia Keys
Ike's Mood I - Visioneers (c/o Shazam)
Forever Young - Youth Group (c/o some random CD in the office)
Sprout and the Bean - Joanna Newsom (c/o the same CD)
Moonlight Serenade - Glenn Miller
You've Got The Love (XX remix) - Florence + The Machine (c/o Delrico
I Can't See Nobody (remixed and reimagined mix) - Nina Simone
Finished Symphony (Deadmau5 Remix) - Hybrid
Two Weeks - Grizzly Bear (c/o Mr Henry)
The Fear (Doctor Rosen Rosen Rx) - Lily Allen (c/o The Guardian Guide, if I'm honest)
The Girl and the Robot (Radio Mix) - Röyksopp (feat. Robyn)
The Greatest Story Never Told - Murray Gold
Winter - Tori Amos
Season Song - Blue States
You Can't Always Get What You Want - The Rolling Stones (c/o Mum and Dad))
Hearts Collide - Little Boots (c/o my work Mac)
Tell Me the Worst (Fred Falke Remix) - Will Young (c/o my homosexuality)
Andvari - Sigur Rós
It's Not Easy To Be Human - A Camp (c/o BeBopBoy again)
Jack - Michael Nyman (c/o the Wonderland soundtrack)
Song for Bob - Nick Cave & Warren Ellis
The Grand Finale (Edward Scissorhands) - Danny Elfman & Shirley Walker
Suite for Solo Cello No. 1 in G Major - Yo-Yo Ma (c/o the knitting teacher, some time ago)
Bulletproof - La Roux (c/o studio line from L'Oreal??)
Bright Young Things - Pet Shop Boys (c/o the lovely Tom)
The Mojo Radio Gang - Parov Stelar
A Hazy Shade of Winter - Simon & Garfunkel (c/o The Lady Donna)
My Moon My Man - Feist
Aerodynamic - Tom Hodge

-End-

Awesome weekend checking out the Turner Prize shortlist and the very visceral Anish Kapoor. Both extremely interesting.*

* If I could find a way to get someone to pay me to fire red wax cylinders at a white wall with glee I would be happy as Larry.

Took ages to glue that ferris wheel together

2009-11-05T16:26:00.004Z

Having enormous fun with this online tilt shift thing. Which as far as I can make out is just that trendy way to make pictures look as if they are of very small things that seems very 'in vogue' on adverts and things at the moment.

I took this picture on the flight back into London from India, and used the online thingy to shuszz it up:

MODEL LONDON! Amazing.

If you're a proper computer bod, unlike luddite me who just bashes keys until the right things happen or bits fall off*, then there is a Photoshop Tutorial here.

* Not really I love my mac laptop. LOVE. But only use approx 0.1% of its magnificent power and capabilities.

Revolution without a head

2009-10-29T10:29:00.001Z

I've updated my profile picture so all my various, badly-maintained social network 'thingies' are on-brand.

It's only taken my four years.

Kuh.

Me me me me me.

2009-10-26T09:44:00.002Z

Surprisngly relaxing weekend at my parental home, despite the usual rivers of red wine (which is most certainly not some Nick Griffin-esque speech, I assure you).

I think the clocks going back has done wonders for me. After weeks of being tired and running out of rope, I seem tuned to the right universe. Ahhh! I was temporally challenged, clearly.

But. And anyway.

The delightful Great She Elephant (who sounds nothing like an elephant. I know this for I have spoken to her on the phone and she sounds.. well. All I'm saying is that Charlotte Green is in for a run for her money and certain gentleman callers might be persuaded to part with a lot of money.) has just completed a Meme which I am stealing from her blog.

Have you had sex in the past 24 hours? Not consciously.
Are you gay? Buh-LEEVE it, SISTAH! Um. Which actually means yes, I am indeed.
Do you have hairy legs?Yes. I am told this is fairly normal. But it doesn't mean I'm about to whip out the shorts at the smallest ray of sunshine.
Do you smoke anything? No. And I saw Whitney on X Factor recently.
Do you like monkeys? Never understood what's so great about them above any other animal, really. Cats is my bag.
How many fillings do you have? Two. I had others. They fell out. They or the tooth.
Would you rather swim in the ocean or a lake? Ocean. I find it harder to trust still water.
Have you ever licked one of those square batteries? Yes. Peer pressure at uni because they found out I hadn't as a child. Isn't the British educational system a marvel?? Still. That's a red brick for you..
Have you ever read the Bible? No. Chewed some it? Yes.
Did you ever go to Sunday School? No chance. Resoundingly atheist parents, you see.
Do you wear a lot of black? No but I'm considering more. Have too many light threads for winter. Doesn't go that well with my brown-ish-ginger-hinted hair though..
Did you ever bring a weapon to school? I had nothing to declare but y genius. Which may have explained the forthright actions of the school bullies.
Have you ever hugged a tree? Hell yeah. And not regularly enough for my liking. Trees are ACE.
Do you know what a sphincter actually is? Intimately, and with all the surprises that such a position can throw up. (Sorry Gran).
Describe your hair? See above. It does its job. Quite thick. If I could be arsed to go to the cutting place more often it might be better, but it's mine so huzzah!
Are you a wildbeast? I cannot better GSE's answer: "No I'm a pedant - I think you mean wildebeest."
Do you like to have fun? (eyeing meme up and down) What did you have in mind..?
Do you like drama? Ohhhh yes.
Have you ever taken a bong hit? A million years ago when all this was fields.
Do you like mayonnaise? I can take it or leave it. Nice on chips, but really I'm a tommy k and brown sauce kind of dude and no that is no kind of euphemism.
Are you afraid to die? I'm afraid of an unpleasant death involving cheesegraters, but far more frightened of others around me dying.
Do you like playing in leaves? Only if they are properly attached and covering all parts that should be covered.
Have you ever peed your pants as an adult? Oh my word yes.
Have you ever thrown up on somebody as an adult? I don't think so. Just me.
Are you an adult? How long do you have... I tell you what. Just have a flick through some of my previous posts and make your own mind up.
Ever won a spelling bee? Yes. I called him Harold.
Do you ever eat because you’re depressed? I don't think so. But if I'm happy I worry about it less. Food is one of the last great enjoyments we have. Relish it.
Are you a television addict? Yes. But not about to go to any meetings about it.
Do you think OJ was guilty? Do bears hit up Mass?
Do you enjoy spending time with your mother? Yeah. She's a hoot.
Have you ever had sex in a hot tub? I tried, vaguely. I was kindly turned down. I was okay with that because I would have worried about howe to clean it afterwards.
On a swing? Not quite sure of the point of sex swings.
Do you like Elvis? He's not on my list, if that's what you mean.
Do you enjoy watching animals “do it” on the Discovery channel? No. Because they always seem faintly embarrassed by the film crew.
Ever been hit on at a zoo? I don't think so.
Have you ever had sex with a total stranger? Oh, my dear. None of us are strangers in this world. And not telling.
you enjoy the calming effects of turkeys? Can't abide turkeys. Never a turkey round our way come Christmas. We do things with pheasants and venison instead. I say we. I mean my parents, who are more creative in the kitchen than I am.
Does your mom think someone is hot? If she did I'm not sure she'd tell me. And that's fiiiine.
Are you a sugar freak? Yes, but I'm also a savory freak.
Ever been arrested? No.
Ever commit a crime and get away with it? Once, I didn't wash my hands after peeing.
Do you like orange juice? Yeah. Nice and fresh and cold. Cuts through a fuzzy head like nothing.
What sign are you? That sort of special movement friend's make when someone asks an awkward question about someone's partner at a party. Eyebrow's down, cutting motion with the hand..
Ever do the party boy dance in front of the elderly? I have no idea what you;re talking about. Which is probably right and proper as I'm past thirty now. I have my own kind of party boy dance.
Where do you wish you were right now? NYC.
Did you enjoy this? Well, it was fun, but it's not up there as one of the greats. You've certainly diverted some of my attention this morning, for which I am grateful for. But really I'd rather be finishing off The Camomile Lawn. Don't take it to heart though. Darling, you did your best...

What's in a name..

2009-10-06T11:08:00.004+01:00

Piddling around on the internets at work I found a list of some of the acronyms used by Marketing people to describe certain demographic audiences.

Some of them are absurdly specific: "ORCHID: One Recent Child Heavily In Debt. With a newborn in tow 'orchids' have limited capacity to spend or travel – an image in contrast to the exotic flower that describes them.

I suppose, somewhat depressingly into the GUPPIE category: "Gay Urban Professional. Like yuppies, but with longer-term high‑spend potential because of the guppie’s reduced likelihood of having children to look after. Alternatively, a “green yuppie”..

I don't want to be like Yuppies, thankyewverrmuch. I think of myself as Single Homosexual Inner-city Toiler, thanks. And I demanded to be marketed at as such.

Empire State of Photography

2009-10-04T11:34:00.006+01:00

Here are some random pictures from the recent trip to Nooo York City.

I borked my digital point and click camera during my birthday (unfortunate conjunction between camera, my bum and a hard surface), so I was using the old 35mm SLR my parents bought me for my 18th birthday. I'm pretty pleased with how some of them came out, because I hadn't used it properly in years.

I'm currently trying to work out how I can move to NYC without having to marry someone for a green card, as part of a five year plan. Any ideas?!

Bookmarks relied on in even the gravest "there's nothing interesting to look at on the net" crisis

2009-09-12T20:52:00.004+01:00

One day, the internet will cease to exist.

Eventually some other more efficient and clever form of storing and sharing information will replace it, like the telephone replaced telegrams. And it will look like a quaint, old fashioned way to communicate. A mythological infrastructure rendered pointless by the living chips in our head that allow us to place thought directly into the minds of those we're connected to, from our eco-bubble body units that gave up the need for legs some time ago. Physical boundaries and distances having been replaced for centuries by a society that effectively exists as one in the common cloud of information and feeling and entertainment and learning. Like dust in a beam of sunlight, itself forgotten because we won't need light anymore. It'll be as irrelevant as horse-drawn carriages.

So the internet, a dusty, jammed, neglected collection of physical wires and satallites will slowly die, until the last forgotten computer light winks out, deep underground and alone. And the once flood of information and adverts and spam mail will fade out of existence as if it had never been.

When this happens, Lolcats will be the last thing that fades from the last cracked CRT screen..

For no other reason other than it's a damn Friday

2009-09-11T15:32:00.002+01:00

Nineteen glorious seconds of pure ROFL. Thank you Harry Hill and team.

It's all a bit self-pitying here today

2009-09-10T11:52:00.006+01:00

Well I've just spent six minutes and thirty seconds looking at Derren Brown's balls, and I'm none the wiser. But then there's the fun. I look forward to the Friday programme where he explains all - like some illusionist Johnny Ball. S'very clever.*

Anyway, I'm packing my bags (nearly), readying my foreign currency (almost) and hot-footing it out of here (sometime next week, in fact).

I'm off on my holibobs again. And I can't begin to explain how ready I am for them, not least because the last time I went away was the last time anything interesting happened on this blog. But darnit I shall try.

Why I am ready for parts foreign (by Boz, aged thirty and a bit)

1. Work has been 'a bit busy'.
2. I have been punishing my poor body with late nights and booze.
3. I have not had much time to generally kick back, relax, enjoy a slice of cake and bit of hush.

The results of this is my body springing it's usual physical equivalent of defcon three, ie a cold sore.

There is nothing nice to be said for a cold sore. They are not pretty. They are not fun. But it's sort of my own fault for running myself down a bit. I'm like one of those hypochondriac patients in Carry On Films. "Woe is meeeee! Matron!".

So very shortly, I'm abandoning these shores - with their gloomy news, befuddled seasons and wearisome deadlines - for New York City.

I've been before so have done most of the touristy stuff. Anyone got any tips for what next? MOMA is on my list..

* FULL DISCLAIMER: I slightly fancy Derren Brown. I know, right, a bit unusual, yeah? I'm sure it has all sorts of Freudian undertones. But there we are.

Traumatised by Ghostwatch, for starters

2009-09-03T21:11:00.006+01:00

An important revelation about telly has arisen following the second blog* meeting between me, James of Blue Cat fame, Billy and Jayne.

There was talk about telly** and it struck me ("ow") that a lot of the TV that I really like and has really influenced me, was the stuff that I was not allowed to watch when I was younger.

I was a bit weedy and wet as a child (IN A GOOD WAY). So a lot of scary stuff was right out almost immediately (actually this might not just be telly - a Radio 4 Edgar Allan Poe adaptation had me literally shaking once). Anything I was shuffled away from has been the subject of endless interest as an adult. I think mum had a pretty good sense of the things that would cause sleepless nights (for me and therefore her) so would firmly switch over, off or the subject of our focus. But now anything sci-fi-ish and properly creepy I think is brillig.

And I have very deep memories of my sitting up in bed and hearing my parents and sister next door, laughing hysterically to Blackadder, which I had been summaraily dispatched to bed before the start of. I crept along the hall, knelt down beside the battered church pew*** and sat by the - firmly closed - living room door hearing them laugh their heads off.

"That must be a good thing," thought little I. Thus an obsession was born.

Of course, there was also always the lingering sense, the unspoken rule, that anything on ITV was somehow not quite the done thing. So clearly I can also blame/thank my parents for some of my strange class preoccupations, coupled to a socialist soul.

So I worry about my nephews, who can more or less watch what they like, will miss out on the life-shaping habits created by someone saying "No, not for you". Mind you, as the youngest one is still fairly preoccupied by DVDs of steam trains - and I mean ANY DVD of steam trains - I'm not sure there's too much of a problem there.

Anyway. I'm off to try and find a copy of this, on sound recommendation.

* Which was a much soberer affair than the last one, because we all had some proper grown-up things to do the next day. Like making presentations, meeting new people and trying to overthrow Slough.
** One of my BEST types of talks.
*** Don't go there. We had two. And screaming atheism.

Things I Have Learnt About Being Thirty

2009-08-19T09:59:00.006+01:00

1. No one gives up their seat for you on the bus. Yet. "Tsk".

2. That burgeoning spare tyre around the waist gets harder to shift, but I have come to accept that I will never be one of those people who can go to the gym three times a week.

3. The balance between risking offending people and making sure your friends are okay shifts towards the latter in the previous decade.

4. I'm never going look like I did when I was twenty (Thank God).

5. Life does seem to in a vague, ambling curve of generally getting better.

6. Therefore I am very lucky.

7. I still have the capacity to cock things up quite stupendously.

8. The next ten years feel potentially as open as field.

9. It is still acceptable to laugh at jokes about pooh and dance around your bedroom to music.

10. Blimey, I do witter on sometimes.

11. People buy you lots of skin care products for your thirtieth birthday (this is a good thing).

12. The things that were important to me at 18 are still the things that tend to matter most. I wish I had known this at 18.

13. Heaven is still a deep blue sky.

14. It seems I have been reading liberal lefty publications for quite some time...

(Cheers Mum)

UPDATE: Also, I am still totally incapable of buying trousers that are the correct length.

"Yeah I think we missed the turn-off for the point some miles back, Dave."

2009-08-05T10:00:00.005+01:00

Oh look. Stop it. Just stop it.

Monsieur Ambassadors, with news stories like this you are forcing me to go all Yummy Mummy on Yo Ass*.

Surely this is taking 'missing the point' to a whole new level. Are they trying to get this to be added to 2012 as a new Olympic sport? HELLO?

I try to buy organic food when I can afford to. I do not do this because I think an organic banana is going to be healthier for me* per se, I do this because I believe it is going to be less damaging for me.

And yes, I've already had Ben Goldacre waved under my nose. All this is well and good, and an interesting deconstruction of the argument. BUT. I still don't want artificially created pesticides, fertilizers or hormones cluttering up the stuff I eat. Because that stuff hangs around in the ecosystem, and no amount of argument will convince me that it isn't doing dodgy stuff to my body - which is already fighting pollution, chemicals in soaps and all the other Bad Stuff we fill the world with.

Also, organic food just tastes better.

I say this as someone who has just returned from his parents house, and enjoyed the plentiful organic goods of their allotment. MmmmMMMMM!

Anyway. That's today's rant. I'll try and frame a fw more posts in a more positive mental attitude..

ALSO. I love working in an office where someone approaches the workplace HiFi with a dark glint in their eye, murmuring the words "There can never be enough Fleetwood Mac in the world.."

* And I live in Clapham, where Yum-Mums actually are a growth industry. I'm knee-deep in Kath Kidston and how.

** Particularly as said banana has a good chance of ending up as, say, oo, I dunno, banana cake. [cackles]

Fun To Be Had In Scottish Cities

2009-07-24T16:49:00.007+01:00

I've never been to the Edinburgh Festival. I wish I had.

But.

If I were going this year, I would definitely check out the most excellent and amusing Frisky & Mannish, who I first saw some while ago at a secret and not-to-be-talked-of event*:

The Pussycat Dolls and Kate Bush renditions are particularly noteworthy. Any act with the balls to combine Girls Aloud with The Wheels On The Bus should be wildly applauded.

This lovely page has details of the Edinburgh gig.

I thank you. Silliness ahoy, Midshipman Banana!

* Which involved bingo. I'm just saying.

Oh Arse

2009-07-23T15:43:00.002+01:00

I've completely forgotten how to write interesting blog posts that are not just a collection weakly strung together links.

Damn you Twitter!!

(Shakes fist at blogosky)

This requires some work...

Name, Number, Address, Email, Blog... who really still uses fax machines?

2009-07-23T11:41:00.006+01:00

Two features on business cards hit my desk within hours today. The first from The Financial Times, and the second from On Office (which annoyingly appears not to be on the website.

FULL MARKS to Lego, who let you have your own little Lego man with your contact details on. Amazing!

Once you start looking, there is no end of imaginative designs for them.

My work one is a sort of blue/purple affair. Maybe I should head to Moo and make my own ones using my photo collection. Only that probably would not do a lot for my "professional" reputation. After all, your business card says a lot about you (and your brand).

This is why I could never start a business. I spend all my time on the business cards and stationery. I'd not get any work done.

"It's Just! (Just!) A little Trust! (Trust!)"

2009-07-15T15:04:00.002+01:00

Am really enjoying this opinion piece by Charlie Brooker on how we have little faith in our traditional institutions.

And one of his comments left me wondering, if we can;t trust the WI then who can we trust? WHERE ARE THE WI WHEN WE NEED THEM?

Quick. Someone parachute a member into every Government department, bringing practicality, common sense and damn fine baking!

All of which is really just a tenuous excuse to show this:

Nothing from me this weekend, apart from on Twitter, as I shall be busy volunteering and raising awareness of a health-related issue at a music fetsival. More on that after the weekend...

But there were disappointingly few car chases

2009-07-14T09:31:00.004+01:00

My brain is in a strange place. I'm having lots of very odd dreams. Last night seemed to involve a plot nicked from a Zoë Heller novel, where I had an affair with someone, then ended up looking after his bitter partner into old age, until she eventually had me run over by youffs on bicycles on a sodden English country lane.

To fill the time in between there was much angst and confrontation in various European cities.

Also a sub-plot about a missing jewel.

When does the cheque for the films rights arrive in the post, do we think..?

Four Square Eyes

2009-07-12T11:17:00.003+01:00

As my tech-guru flatmate has pointed out, it really shows that it hasn't had squillions of earth pounds spent on it, but I am beginning to get quite attached to Channel 4 On Demand. (aka 4od.... "Fodd"? "Four-rod"??).

Mostly, because I can rediscover stuff like Ultraviolet and Drop The Dead Donkey.

It's like the TV channels are in a giant conspiracy to stop me going outside...

The Alternative UK Citizenship Test

2009-07-06T16:49:00.007+01:00

I'm sure these will spring up everywhere. But having failed the test questions for being a UK citizen because they asked inane things about road speeds (I don't drive), the number of young people in the UK (with proportionally minor differences between the four choices) and where I go to find out about local training opportunities (I'm a lazy bastard), I should like to suggest alternative and more accurate questions to identify the people who want to be here and have been paying attention*:

1. What is the correct way to prepare a cup of tea?
- Milk in first
- Boiling water in first
- Moving widdershins around the cauldron while chanting hymns to the monkey gods.
- In the advert break.

2. State the correct number of times EastEnders is broadcast each week:
- Once
- Twice
- Three times a Barbara Windsor
- Four and half thousand
- Half

3. The Union Jack is only so-called when..
- Raised.
- Flown on a boat.
- No one really cares about the answer to this you smug git.
- Adorned on a BNP supporter.

4. If someone jostles you by accident in a popular drinking tavern, the correct response is..
- "Oh I am so sorry my dear Sir/Madam/Transgendered person, I do apologise. the fault was all mine. Please allow me to replace your spoilt Babycham."
- Heatbutting.
- Crying (it's been a long night).
- Pregnancy.
({Participants note, the answers to this question depend on the part of the country you are located in, and your social class. If you do not know your social class, please consult the arbitrator's copy of The Daily Mail.)

5. London is the capital of...
- The World.
- The Universe.
- The Empire.
- Starbucks.
- FM.

6. Typically, Christian UK residents buy Christmas presents..
- Rarely.
- At Christmas.
- In the sales.

7. Sir Alan Sugar is..
- Grand High Overlord of Great Britain
- Getting a bit tired now, to be honest.
- The Queen's husband.
- A queen's husband.
- Not as good as Margaret Mountford.

8. The British countryside is where..
- We shoot things.
- We shoot things to actually eat them.
- We go to patronise inhabitants of conurbations of less than 50,000 people.
- Messy.
- We go caravan baiting.

9. The most important UK resident is...
- Gordon Brown.
- Simon Cowell.
- The Queen.
- The man who runs the corner shop.
- Gordon Ramsey.
- Sean Connery.
- Barack Obama.

10. Your local Doctor is available..
- By Calling NHS Direct
- By tuning into BBC One on Saturday evenings
- When the happy pills have run out
- Never

11. A traditional British meal includes...
- Beans.
- Sausages.
- Beanz.
- "Vegetables".
- Plastic cutlery.

12. TRUE or FALSE, a motorway service station is not what you're thinking?

13. You are entitled to a free subscription to Heat magazine...
- When Kerry Katona says so
- When Jordan says so
- When Katie Price says so
- When the women at Tescos says so
- When the Man from Delmote says so
- When the Gold Blend couple say so
- On Tuesdays
- Upon the birth of your sixteenth child

14. Finally, John Lewis is...
- Where posh people go to buy haberdashery.
- Related to Peter Jones.
- A Blue Peter presenter.
- A porn star.
- A long-running drama on Radio 4.

Am I being snobby? I'm probably being snobby, aren't I. eeek!

More suggestions in the comments please!

UPDATE: I must belatedly thank Mr. Dennis for this post, as it was his Tweet that pointed me at the UK citizenship Warm Up Test. And his questions in the comments are far funnier than mine, dammit.

(The British - shocking manners....)

* I'd also quite like to end this sentence

The planets must be "all funky", as Sir Patrick would say

2009-07-06T11:41:00.005+01:00

It has been an odd week so far;

1. Octogenarian grandmother went head-first through a glass coach window (she's fine - more damage to the coach and the coach driver she was sitting behind, as far as I can make out).

2. Pacifist sister got into a fight.

3. Great Aunt kicked the bucket. I did not know her very well, but she was officially a fab old thing and my mother is extremely saddened.

4. Unfortunately (for her) she is not officially 'dead' as her three doctors* can't agree on a cause of death and are refusing to sign the death certificate.

5. I opened a kitchen cupboard a day ago and discovered it had filled up form the inside with pools of a strange black liquid...**

6. Father suffering from bout of gastroe...gasteroenteri....that bad stomach virus thing.

What do all these strange augers foretell??

* I don't know why either, although I suspect she may have been pulling a fast one with prescriptions for the happy pills, gawd bless 'er.

** Which subsequently turned out to be a forgotten bag of potatoes on the top shelf that had liquified, but I don't mind saying it gave me a funny turn.

I can neither confirm nor deny at this time that I was pretending to be Shirley Bassey

2009-07-02T14:12:00.006+01:00

I love the internets. Who knew* there would be an entire website out there devoted to opening title sequences.

Brilliant! On a hot day like today, I recommend a dose of Edward Scissorhands. Most refreshing.

Which reminds me of my youngest nephew on the recent trip to the London Transport Museum, enjoying his very own Goldfinger** moment..

* I suspect the answer is most of you. I'm usually a little behind on these matters. And have a memory like a.. like a... whataretheycalled...

** The Scissor Sisters also deserve kudos for this video, too.

Someone at Air New Zealand has too much time on their hands..

2009-07-02T09:30:00.003+01:00

Very, very weird. Would love to have been there when the conversation happened...

I wonder if I could get away with doing my next client pitch like this..?

Someone has tried to market stuff at me as a Blogger, I'm so happy I could weep!!

2009-07-01T10:48:00.008+01:00

So. This morning, I cranked up my email and found the following email:

Hey Boz,

As a London-based blogger I thought you might enjoy the new animated video for my song “Goodbye London”.

It was animated onto photos of Camden, Hampstead Heath, Piccadilly Circus and other favourite parts of London.

The vid is here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o8nrDz1xNFE

I’d be delighted if you’d help me spread the word by posting it on your blog, Facebook, Twitter or myspace.

Sincerely,

Luke Jackson

Thrills! I don't care if some record label lackey picked up my blog from some long-forgotten blog directory I signed up to in an early fit of blogging enthusiasm. Nor do I care that the blogosphere is getting quiter by the day and they may be running out of London blogger to find.

HOW COULD A BLOGGER REFUSE.

It's such a well-written, open and dead straightforward email. I have to applaud it.

Luckily, the song and video turn out to be a bit nifty. And do actually have some of my fave bits of London in:

Thank you, Luke Jackson. How is also on Twitter here.

Proof that those that ask nicely get everything they ask for.

UPDATE: Although - anyone know how to make this video fit my woefully out of date blog template? It really is time to update this blasted thing. I'm just a-fearin' losing everything..

UPDATE AGAIN: Despite valiant efforts by my flatmate, the Patron Saint of Blogging has come to my rescue vis the YouTube video size. Huzzahs!

OM NOM NOM

2009-06-30T19:38:00.001+01:00

My flatmate puts together a damn good dinner...

"ROFL"

2009-06-28T14:59:00.005+01:00

An actual advertisement from the actual past, as found at the London Transport Museum.

I am very easily amused..

World's Smallest Blog-Meet

2009-06-26T09:20:00.002+01:00

I done met another Blogger. He tells all here.

Well. Saves me writing a post.

In brief: the internet is not just full of weirdos, but nice people too!

"Third floor, handbags, haberdashery and the eighth circle of hell."

2009-06-22T12:14:00.004+01:00

You'll need to crank the video up to full-screen for this.

The Standard Hotel in NYC has created a video installation in its lift based on Dante's Divine Comedy.

It's brilliant. Check it out:

Civilization by Marco Brambilla from CRUSH on Vimeo.

I cannot claim to have spotted this. But the most excellent person who chucked it my way will not let me link to them until their shiny new blog is up and running. I may do it retrospectively.

Monday. Good day for consideration of trips to hell and back.

I'm off to NYC in September. I shall be at the Standard... I can't afford to stay there, obviously, but I'll be going up and down in the lift a lot.

Television Shows They Wouldn't Commission Now (Part 1)

2009-06-18T09:48:00.006+01:00

Why Don't You?. *

INT. BBC CENTRE.

BRIGHT YOUNG TELLY THING: "We've got this great idea, actually, for... what are they called? Children. Because the license fee says we have to put programmes on for them as well, or something, actually. Which is ridiculous because some of them can't even talk."

COMMISSIONING PERSON: "Hit me!" ***

BRIGHT YOUNG TELLY THING: "What it is, essentially, is a group of these "children", together, in, um, let's say an abandoned abatoir. And what they do, and this is the clever bit, is they make or do things that viewers have sent in as suggestions. Isn't that just chronically clever!? Jane thinks it's marvellous."

COMMISSIONING PERSON: "Big Brother with kidz. Viewers controlling their every action. I like it! It's got meaning. The location may need work. What's it called?"

BRIGHT YOUNG TELLY THING: " 'Why Don't You Just Switch Off Your Television Set And Go Out And Do Something Less Boring Instead?' "

COMMISSIONING PERSON: "Come again?"

BRIGHT YOUNG TELLY THING: "Janecameupwiththetitle."

COMMISSIONING PERSON: " ' Why Don't You...?' "

BRIGHT YOUNG TELLY THING: " '...Just Switch Off Your Television Set And Go Out And Do Something Less Boring Instead?'"

COMMISSIONING PERSON: "Right."

BRIGHT YOUNG TELLY THING: "Yes"

COMMISSIONING PERSON: "It's the bit about telling our younger consumer units to 'switch off' and participate in something 'less boring' that I'm sensing internal negative feedback from."

BRIGHT YOUNG TELLY THING: "Right. Yes. I see how that might not sit well with, um, our wider strategy. Sort of thing."

COMMISSIONING PERSON: "How about 'Stay In And Do Stuff We Tell You To?' "

BRIGHT YOUNG TELLY THING: " '...When This Programme Has Finished' perhaps? Or even 'When Your Parents Switch Off?' "

COMMISSIONING PERSON: "We'll abbreviate to "Stay In And Do". Love it. Here's £500,000. I want a pilot on my desk on Monday."

BRIGHT YOUNG THING" "Oh graaaaaaayt."

COMMISSIONING PERSON: "And no mistakes like last time. We had to promise British Airways a plug in The Apprentice to make them not go to the papers. Now where is my coffee and bagel??"

BRIGHT YOUNG TELLY THING: "Super. Yup. I'll call Jane now."

COMMISSIONING PERSON: "Also kids are expensive. Can we use dwarves?"

BRIGHT YOUNG TELLY THING: "I'll ask Jane.."

CUT TO:

JANE standing in a disused coal mine having kids throw things at her. She is crying.

CLOSE.

Incidentally, if anyone has read The Writer's Tale, it some interesting stuff on how Russell T. Davies slowly took over Why Don't You and subverted it into a ongoing drama. It sounded like a lot of fun.

I think this is part of my campaign to return an element of shoddiness to children's programming. It's all too Neat and Zappy and Polished these days. Bring back video clips going wrong on Number 73 and people harassing Five Star on Going Live. Right - can anyone find that clip of Yvette Fielding buggering up her pancake on Blue Peter?? BRING BACK GLITTER GLUE TO CBBC.

UPDATE: I'm beinginning to feel deja vu about this. Have I blogged about this before? Has someone else?? Have I fooled myself into thinking I came up with this idea when in fact it's the basis of a long-running show on BBC3?? PARANOIA.

* Also ooo look at that. TV Cream has gone to Beta. I turn my back for six months and eveything changes.**

** "And you gotta be ready".

*** I may have senior telly people confused with newspaper editors from the 1940s. The world of telly is not a world I move in, pass through or otherwise throw disco shapes in.

"I'sa all sparkly!"

2009-06-11T10:47:00.004+01:00

This is really old and everyone on the intermawebs will have seen this already, but I have only just been show the Star Wars parody from Robot Chicken. I laughed so hard I spat rice out of my mouth.

I recommend watching right until the end. Affectionate parodies are worth the time investment.

"That's... improbable!"

In summary: Go Seth Green!

Grade II Fear (with Hons.)

2009-06-09T17:48:00.003+01:00

It is this morning. I am standing in small room I have paid to be in. I am alone, but confronted by a beast from my past that I am here to prod gently, to see if it stirs.
I feel guilty because I "Haven't Been Practicing"..

...which is ridiculous, because I was last asked to do piano practice ooh a good fifteen years ago!

So it's like this. In darker moments of recent months, quite out of nowhere, I have felt a.. okay, I can find no better word.. yearning to play some notes on a piano. I know. It's all very middle-class, n'est pas?!

(And I mean piano. Not a keyboard, not an I-can't-believe-it's-an-electric-piano-piano*, not an organ (missus). A piano. It didn't need to be posh or fancy - a battered old upright would have done.)

Now. I only got as far as Grade Two, thanks to some rather futile years discovering I was basically awful at guitar. But I was curious to see if I could remember anything. And the desire kept recurring, despite not having touched one for a good decade.

So I arranged a marvellously cheap hour in a practice room and found out. It was so much fun! Turns out that with a bit of practice I could just about stumble through some simple stuff. And it was remarkable to feel that odd sensation of trying to coordinate two hands doing different things at the same time, like trying to twist your brain in two different directions, while emptying the washing machine. I haven't felt that in years.

I might try again. Stand back world.

I should, at this juncture, point out that I once made my piano teacher actually scream. Loudly. Really loudly. I dunno, something about not practicing some chords or scales or something...

Maybe I'll do less Bartok and more the theme form Ski Sunday this time. Maybe.

* Because I really can. And yes you can tell the difference. Listen to some of the stuff on the radio.

Geographic Locator Fail

2009-06-08T09:39:00.003+01:00

Oh, Virgin Active, you big sillies.

I feel I have quite a lot of untapped anger bubbling away just under the surface these days. Small things set me off the most vitriolic of diatribes; Blogger making me log-in twice. Ripping a hole in my socks by accident. People mentioning the BNP. Commuters suddenly stopping in the most awkward of places to consult a map, their socks, the sky etc. People I* pay money to talking to customers a if we were in the USA.

Gone are the days of wry bewilderment. If this is nearly being thirty... I LIKE IT..

* Yes, OK, work, but it'snearly the same thing.

It's the hair pins left spinning in the air that really get me

2009-06-05T09:16:00.003+01:00

I'm retreating into my childhood. Partly on the back of some reality TV programme I caught five minutes of where a Mum was inflicting her 70s childhood on her console-hybrid children*. Partly because I haven't been out much this week.

But it did make me think that everything is rather fast-paced now. Back in my mini-me days, the opening credits for 80 Days Around The World ran for a a minute and half, FFS. A minute and a half! That's longer than my attention span now!

Which led me to wondering where all the old cartoons went. And it turns out - the internet!

Witch Hazel and Marvin the Martian were my favourites, I think.*** (Although I couldn't find the one where WH tries to fly a vacuum cleaner - which made me howl with laughter).

So. Yeah. Thassall folks. Just me wallowing in my slower-paced childhood, but trying not to judge the modern world. After all, the the lucky buggers today have cool shizz like Yo Gabba Gabba!

* Look. I didn't like it either. But there were millions of children and they had a console *each* and it was quite interesting that the first thing they did when all their telly's were taken away was congregate together in the living room. All in moderation is what I'm aiming for, I guess. Which makes me a total hypocrite because I was that spoddy, game-playing, in-my-room teenager.**
** And against all expectations I quite like me.
*** No one say anything about identifying with the outsiders. Not. One. Little. Word.