Saturday saw us rise at a relatively ungodly hour to meet an estate agent in Wheathampstead to view two flats. The first was listed as a barn conversion overlooking reed beds, which sounded as close to a rural idyll as you can get now the war is over and Spam is freely available. In fact it was a block of flats with a couple of wooden slats ( Read more... )

Gezellig up to your monitor for a second, as unless you’re a complete klloshar, I’d like to share my favourite news story of the day with you.

It’s on the top ten most untranslatable words. The winner is ilunga from the Bantu language of Tshiluba, and means a person ready to forgive any abuse for the first time, to tolerate it a second time, ( Read more... )

I was back at work today, after my week of viral myalgia induced rest. Aside from toppling down the stairs on Saturday afternoon and sustaining a nasty carpet graze on my right elbow, my arms and fingers are back to normal. Which is just as well really, as I invested in a Game Boy Advance at the weekend and have been obsessively raising Pokemon ( Read more... )

Last week I had a comedy arm. It ached a bit, and tingled. I announced I’d had a mild stroke. My work colleagues pointed at my inability to lift the kettle and laughed ( Read more... )

There are 127 million people in Japan. In 98 days, strange_powers and I will join them. Budge up there, you in the sailor suit and orange knee socks ( Read more... )

Apparently Michelle and Stuart have just kissed.

Apologies to those readers who do not give a fig.

So anyway. Enough of that.

The fair is coming to town. Monday is the day of the ‘Luton International Carnival’ which strikes me as a little too geographically self-important, but who cares when there’s a Waltzer that can break your neck with exhilarating fun!

The annoyance of not being able to either drive to or from strange_powers’s fancy bachelor pad ( Read more... )

( Modalverben, don’t read this at work. )

I wonder if central London cinema-goers are the rudest in the world? I’ve never seen a film at Leicester Square without at least one mobile phone ringing during the show, and there’s always a select group of audience members who consider it quite acceptable to talk as loudly as the actors on screen. It’s relative rudeness of course. d_sameboy and I saw ( Read more... )

class_worrier says the ‘seven ages of booze’ are: Sneaking small sips of the dregs of cheap whatever leftover at your parents parties, Snakebite, Lager, Heavy/Stout, Wine, Cognac/Brandy etc. The missing age is the Wildcard: The discovery of your common-or-garden spirits. This can lead to a year or two of going-off-the rails, and can be slotted in-between any ( Read more... )