Password Reset

I'm sure there's some statistic about the average work computer user forgetting their password about 50 times a month, and each phonecall to get it reset costs about five quid or something daft. To help counter these costs, my work has just installed a new thing on our intranet which lets us reset our own passwords, for three of our main systems, without having to make a phonecall. Theoretically I'm sure this has to be a good thing.

I tried it out today as I needed a password reset.

I loaded up the app, and the first thing I had to do was enter a username and password. I knew my username, but wasn't totally sure what my password was. I had a guess. It didn't work. I guessed again and got it wrong again. I tried one more time. It still didn't work but this time it also said I was now locked out. I was now confused. I wanted my password reset but I was locked out of the thing that would reset my password because I didn't know it and probably needed it reset. Something of a dilemma here.

I went back to plan A and dialed the IT helpdesk (always fun).

A man answered. He asked how I could help. I said I needed a password reset. He asked which password, and I said it was for the password management application. I felt foolish saying this. Unfortunately, the man had never heard of the password management system and so he wasn't much use. I felt a bit stuck. I tried to explain that it was a new thing, and I told him how to access it and everything, but he still couldn't help. As normal I felt I knew more about my IT problem than the IT people did.

After a short while I gave up and just figured I could get the original password I wanted reset, reset instead and I could worry about the password resetting password another time. I asked if I could do this and he said ok, but he'd have to ask me a couple of security questions first. No problem, said I. How hard could they be?

First up, an easy one. What were the eighth and ninth letters of the name of my secondary school? After working out which school this was, all I had to do was write the name down, count the letters and say them out loud. I did, and he then asked me the next question. This was harder as it involved the names of my mother. I always get these wrong as she has a first name and a middle name but she uses the middle name as her first name. Not the full version of it though - an abbreviated version. Hence when I was asked what the fourth and fifth letters in my mother's middle name were, I didn't know whether it was her full middle name, her shortened middle name or her normal first name which is a bit like a middle name because she uses her middle name as a first name. Confused? I was. I got it wrong.

I had failed the security check. Darnit.

Thankfully, rather than sending the guards round to have me thrown out onto the street, he just gave me one last chance. I nearly got this wrong too because it was about my dad's name and he has a very similar thing going on as my mum does - using a middle name as a first name. Luckily, the letters that were asked for could only have come from one of his names as the other was too short.

So finally I passed the test and the man reset my password.

This had all been so much fun that I had sadly forgotten what it was I needed to do that had made me need to get my password reset in the first place. I love technology - it makes us so much more productive.

DVD arranging for beginners

Today I spent some time rearranging my DVDs. I was quite close to moving to a thematic classification system (ie one shelf for cartoons, one for tv series, one for films that contain half a trucker) but in the end stuck to a mostly alphabetical arrangement, divided into films I've seen and films I haven't seen. I need to work on making that second category smaller - I think it's currently at around 40 films. I'm pretty sure that there are at least two or three there that I'll never watch...

Pigeon Detection

I spent a pleasant half hour watching The Pigeon Detectives in Leeds this evening, supporting Snow Patrol. The gig was outside, and ironically although there were a lot of pigeons about, visible above and behind the stage, none could be seen from the stage and so all of them failed to be detected by the band. Such is life.

Reggae Mystery Solved?

I think I may have solved the mystery of Mr Reggae man from yesterday. I spotted that the pub nearby has a reggae night tomorrow. I'm thinking that maybe the man's carrier bag contained fliers, not stolen CDs or skunk. He probably was just trying to gauge my interest to see if it was worth while him giving me a leaflet.

My advice to him would be to hold your fliers where they can be seen. Let people know your intentions so that they can react appropriately.

I wouldn't have wanted to go though, so no harm done.

Reggae or Hip-hop...

As I was walking into town this evening to see Captain at Fibbers, I spied a black dude coming towards me carrying a carrier bag in both his hands. As he passed close by he gestured me to stop and asked me a single question: "Do you like Reggae or Hip-Hop?". I got the feeling that this wasn't an either/or question - he wasn't asking for a vote one way or the other. I think he wanted to know whether I liked those musical styles as opposed to not liking them. I said to him: "Sorry, not really no". He looked a little disappointed and carried on up the street.

I did not find out the reason for his question or what was in his carrier bag. But I have theories:

Theory 1: The bag was full of stolen Reggae and Hip-Hop CDs that he'd stolen and was hoping to sell down the pub later. He identified me as a clear music lover and thought he'd try me on the off chance.

Theory 2: The bag was full of skunk and the dude thought that asking about Reggae and Hip-Hop was a good coded way of asking me if I'd like to buy some. A way that would leave him innocent should I have turned out to be an undercover policewoman. It's legal to ask about music, it's not so legal to sell skunk (*).

Theory 3: He was bored and fancied a chat with a like-minded individual about Vanilla Ice and Madness.

Sadly, because I gave a negative answer and then parted company, I may never know which of these theories is the right one.

(* If I'm honest, I'm not totally sure what skunk is. I'm just trying to sound cool)

Doctor Two

It was the last episode of the second (new) series of Doctor Who on Saturday. The series as a whole has been a bit variable in quality, but there have been some great episodes. The one with K9 and Sarah Jane was cool (and made me cry at the end) and I also enjoyed The Girl in the Fireplace. The one with the televisions was however a bit rubbish. And as for Love and Monsters... mind you it did have ELO in it (though sadly not as an evil baddy rock band).

The final two parter was however utterly great. Possibly the best episodes I've seen this time around. And that's because it was (finally, after all these years) Daleks versus Cybermen! What the world has been waiting for methinks. It featured the best, most arrogant and plain funniest dalek dialogue I've ever heard. And at the end it was really, like really sad - I haven't cried like that since Buffy.

I'm so rubbish :-)

Orangey goodness..

I just found a Plain Chocolate Orange in my cupboard with a best before date of September 2003. I wonder if it's ok to eat?

Beer Snail

There's nothing worse than finding snail tracks on your beer glass. Absolutely nothing. It's worse than nuclear war, worse than (Celebrity) Love Island. Last night in the pub I caught one of the buggers (a snail, not a lovelorn non-celebrity) on camera...



Retrospectively it occurs to me that the best way to deal with this situation would have been to order a tequila and use the salt as a weapon. As opposed to taking a photo of the little cute monster. I'll know for next time!

Hangover cure

I had a big hangover this morning after drinking copiously last night. It was suggested to me that a traditional cure for this kind of thing is a big juicy fry-up. I, however, took the less traditional route of finally caving in and purchasing an Xbox 360. First impressions:

1. It's actually still quite ugly. Not as bad as the first one, but still not that pretty.

2. It's bloody heavy.

3. Clearly it's very powerful, but the graphics and stuff don't seem to be a huge leap from the first one. Maybe it's because I'm not watching in HD.

4. And how big is the transformer???

That probably sounds a bit negative, but tough. It does have one really good feature which is that you can turn the whole console on and off using the wireless controller. That's neat.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to playing a lot of Elder Scrolls IV in the near future. Bye bye life.

Happy blog-a-versary!

Well, here it is, the momentous post. Why? Because this is the 1000th post on this blog! I should celebrate.

I was thinking of writing a list of a thousand things I'd done since this started back on the 3rd January 2004. But that would take hours, perhaps days and would also be quite dull. Arguably it's what I've been doing for the last two and a half years in any case.

But 1000... wow! That's a lot!

Incidentally, I just spellchecked this and found that Blogger's spellcheck doesn't recognise "blog" as a word. Or "Blogger". Or "spellcheck".

t-1

This is not a special post. Unremarkable it is. Just a placeholder. I could write about the knocked over cyclist with the dislocated shoulder, or the summer dance or what happened when I explained my confusion over Heisenberg and Pauli. Or a multitude of other things. I won't though.

Tomorrow's post will be a special one, if I remember. I just haven't yet decided what to write. But. it. will. be. a. landmark.

Unless I forget.

Physics is fun(ny)

In conversation at work today two people were complaining that their desks were so close together that it probably violated Health & Safety laws. I, being both funny and well versed in physics, joked that it probably also violated Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle. I thought this was very funny as I'd implied they were very close together. The two people however, just looked confused. And then they stopped talking and I went away.

It's only now looking back that I have realised my error. I should actually have referred to the Pauli Exclusion Principle! No wonder they were confused and didn't appreciate how funny I was! I shall have to explain my error to them tomorrow. How we'll laugh!

Bath problems

There's a problem with my bath.

Or a design flaw.

Imagine I'm running a bath (I'm wearing still some clothes, so it's not pervy or anything). I've turned on the water. It's a bit hot so I add some cold into the mix. Then I open the bottle of bath bubbles and add some in. Bubbles start to rise.

I leave the room and go and do something else - make a cup of tea, open some wine, or take off the rest of my clothes (but it's dark so it's still not pervy). I come back to the bath later and the bubbles have risen high, so high.

But something's wrong. Although the bubbles are high, the water is not. There is less water than there should be... because the plug is out. And not due to me forgetting to insert it. Oh no. It's because there's a problem with my bath.

Or a design flaw.

The water comes out so fast. The plughole is beneath. Fast water on to a plug can make the plug bounce out of its socket. And a plug once out will stay out. If this happens whilst I'm not looking, water starts to drain and if it's draining at a faster rate than it's leaving the tap, the water level will no longer rise, it will start to fall.

And this is what happened to me yesterday. For the second time.

It's really f**king annoying. I'm sure it wouldn't be hard to pick these things up in testing... All it would take is a couple of tests and it'd be like: "Derek! Derek! Come quickly! There's a problem with this bath design! Outflow exceeds inflow! We need to move the inflow to be disaligned from the outflow! Now!!!". (Engineers are very excitable in my head...)

And then they'd go back to the proverbial drawing board and redesign the flows and the holes and I'd be able to get naked whilst running a bath without having to worry about everything draining away like so much wasted time. But not in a pervy way.

She loves me!

Today I received an email from a very pretty girl who I must have met at some point in the past. Even though it is quite a personal message, I hope she won't mind be quoting it in full here:

"Do not iagnore me pleaase, I found your email somewhere and now decided to write you. I am coming to your place in few weeks and thought we can meet each other. Let me know if you do not mind. I am a nice pretty girl. Donb't reply to this email. Emaaila me direclty at makym@snail4mail.com"

What an offer! But I have some reservations about her kind words:

1. Her spelling is quite atrocious. However, I assume this is because she is from Eastern Europe. And bad spelling can be cute sometimes so I haven't been put off yet.

2. She's coming to my place! Wow, I guess we will be meeting up then. I'm so excited. I just wish I remembered her...

3. "I am a nice pretty girl". Good! I wouldn't want you to visit if you were a horrible heffer!

4. Hang on... Why have you sent this to ten other people at the same time? I thought it was me you loved...

So I thought it might be wise to just check her out a little bit before emaailaing her. I went to her domain, www.snail4mail.com and there was a picture of her there, and she is quite pretty as she said she was. But... there's some oaf fondling her. The bitch has a boyfriend already and has been getting my hopes up just for kicks. Gaaaaahhhhh! I'm gutted.

And to make it worse, the whole bad spelling thing was just an act as she is clearly a highly intelligent chemist who can make all kinds of drugs (though she seems to specialise in penile disfunction). The whole bad spelling thing was just a lark to lure in gullible men like me! And possibly gullible women too for all I know.

I'm glad I didn't email her. I still don't remember giving her my address though... Guess I was probably drunk.

New Shoes

My current running shoes aren't really on their last legs, but I've done around three hundred miles in them so I decided to get a new pair. Last time I just went to a generic sports shop and got some fairly random shoes that happened to be in the sale at the time. This time I figured I'd make a little more effort, and I went to Up & Running in York. It's a proper running shop that sells things.

There was an England match on this afternoon so I went during that so that the shop wouldn't be too busy. This plan worked perfectly. There was only one other customer the whole time I was there and there were two assistants. A good ratio.

I'd been recommended to take my old shoes with me - when I got them out to show the shop girl, she managed to avoid laughing at me, but did say "yes, I think we can help you" in the same way that a specialist doctor might say that when you showed them one of your diseases. Then she made me take off my shoes and socks (luckily I had showered not too long before) and she had a look at my feet. Apparently I have good arches but my feet tend to twist a little and so I need some moderate support. Ok, whatever you say young lady. Now run and get me some shoes!

So she went to get a few appropriate pairs from where ever it is that shoe shops store shoes. All three pairs looked pretty similar to me but I could feel differences when I tried them on. One was a but funny under my feet, one was a bit tight at the end. But the first pair felt fine. Nice and comfy.



So then I had a little go on the treadmill in the shop. I've never been on one before so it was a little bit scary for me. I didn't fall off though thankfully - that would have been an embarrassing way to get a sporting injury. I also had a little run on the road outside - only a very little one though because it was baking and I was wearing jeans.

The shoes seemed ok so I bought them. At eighty nickers they may be the most expensive shoes I have ever bought! Wow. I'm wearing them now (got to get value from them!) in order to wear them in a little before I use them for any actual exercise. That may come tomorrow - I'm planning a nice run along the river and back to make use of the bridge I espied on Thursday night. It's good to have something to look forward to.

Always belive in...

You are gold. Really.

Boat on a river

One of those things I tend to do on an annual basis... Booze Cruise on the Ouse.



Mistakes I made today: Three pints before boating.
Lessons learnt: Where one can cross the river past the A64.

Word of the day: Twat-sicle

BBBM v QT

My two favourite mass debating programmes on TV are Question Time and Big Brother's Big Mouth. Both are very similar in that they are presented by Russell Brand and discuss the most important issues of the day.

However, the issue that has been burning me most today is: Which studio audience is most insane? My money's on Question Time's.

Wine Warning

Note to self: (Duplicate notes to all:)

Whilst in the Akash curry house, York, eat curry. It's very good. Don't under any circumstances order the "Indian Red Wine". It either doesn't travel well, is off, is bad to start with or possibly all three.

You have been warned.

You can take your carriage clock...

Two of our guys at work are having a leaving do tomorrow and I was put in charge of buying presents. Is that ever going to be a good idea? I didn't have a budget as such since they are only moving roles rather than leaving completely and so no collections had been made. This meant I had to fund purchases from my own pocket. And this in turn means: Cheap!

But never let it be said that I don't have ambition!

Everyone knows that the ultimate leaving present is the Carriage Clock. Preferably inscribed on the back "George, we'll miss you, love from the girls in accounts" - that sort of thing. So that was my goal: inscribed carriage clocks. On my budget it wasn't going to be easy... but it was.

First shop I went in was perfect. It had little plastic square clocks for a pound each. A variety of colours. I got one pink one and one black one. But even better, they were on special offer! Buy one get one free! Perfect presents and better value than the Pound Shop would have been had I been arsed to walk that far. They'll be so happy!

I plan to inscribe (ie stick a sticker on the back of) them tomorrow.

I am the lineman goo goo ga choob

Actually, I haven't been to London. That was a subtle piece of misdirection. I've been instead at a surprise birthday party in Edinburgh and since there was a chance that the surprisee could have seen this page, writing that I was going to be surprising her would not have been conducive to giving a good surprise.

A proper karaoke machine had been hired for the evening, and it came with what seemed to be every song ever (including the complete works of B*witched!). It was nice to have a decent set-up rather than just playing Singstar on the PS2, which while lots of fun, never has quite as many songs as you'd like.

There were some truly astounding renditions through the evening and it's a shame that they are now for the most part lost to the ether never to be heard again. Perhaps they should install a hard disk inside the machines so that they can record everything that is sung. Or perhaps not.

I did a few astounding renditions myself. Wichita Lineman was a goody. Lose Yourself not quite so good. I don't think rap is my thang.

Bye!

I'm off down to London today for a friend's housewarming. And I'm (as usual) running late. So... Bye! Write soon!

Deadgehog

For the past few days there has been a dead hedgehog on my way to work. Not a cute little "awww, ain't it sweet" dead hedgehog, but a "urggh, its entrails are spilling onto the pavement" kind of dead hedgehog. Suffice to say it wasn't pleasant to look at and I've been having to actively not look at it to avoid feeling sick.

It's gone now. I don't know where to, but I'm glad and I hope it's in Happy Hedgehog Heaven now.

I also hope that the reason it's gone isn't because the place where it lay was actually part of an old Indian burial ground and that it's now come back to life and is wandering around York terrorising queasy people. I know this happens albeit mainly in badly spelt American films rather than a popular English town.

Bad Rock Spelling

My Bro-in-Law took the following photo in the Vargin Magastore, Basingstoke. God knows what he'd done wrong to be visiting Basingstoke though.



The nice thing here is that they've also got ¡Forward Russia!'s name slightly wrong by missing off both the upside down and the right way up exclamation marks. Fair dos that the upside down one probably isn't easy to do on one of those labelling machines, but they could at least have made an effort. I bet elsewhere in the store they haven't got B*witched right either!

Oh, and the album by David Ford, ex of Easyworld, is a belter.

Running in Space

For the first ever time, my running took me outside what I class as York - ie outside the ring formed by the outer ring road and the A64. It felt like the first time I'd ever been outside of York on foot but this is clearly not the case - I've walked in places such as Great Yarmouth and San Francisco in past times.

The route I took went right round the back of Bishopthorpe Village. It seemed nice enough and there's also a palace out there. But the most interesting thing about the back of Bishopthorpe is the Planetarium.

Near where the A64 crosses the A1036 you'll find the Sun (*). And then some way along the path is Mercury - and it's just as far as it is in real life! But shorter so it fits to the path. And there's a big sign on the other side of the path which says "Mercury" - just like in real Space! And there are direction signs saying Sun: 100m. And Venus: 87m. And etc. Just like in real space! Then, if you keep running you get to actual Venus. And then actual Earth (look really closely and you see a tiny little you running along a tiny track!)! And etc!

We turned left just after Saturn. To go out all the way to Pluto would have added another 15km or so to the overall run and it was raining frankly quite heavily which made the full interplanetary journey not that great a prospect. I was surprised just how wet space was. And I never knew it had so many trees!

(* actually we couldn't find the Sun but it must be there somewhere. There's a sign and everything! In fact, I'm not sue how we missed it because it's supposed to be eight feet in diameter...)

Burgers!

I was hanging out in Leeds train station tonight and was hungry. I went to Burger King and had a Whopper. But then I was still hungry so I went to MDs and had two more burgers. Is that wrong?

Cider!

I let myself get a bit pissed off on Friday night (not like me, really). I was so angry that I decided to... order a bottle of Magners. Yes, it seems that I'm the sort of person that when they get angry, I don't turn green and huge like the Hulk, I have a glass of cold cider. I don't even particularly like cider. I used to drink it when I was little, but I haven't had more than the occasional accidental pint for around ten years.

It was nice though. I had a couple more at lunchtime today. Not because I was annoyed - I drank these ones purely because I wanted to. I do feel like I'm a trend-following marketing victim but what can you do?

Look at my ring!

Sometimes you have a meeting in a hotel. And sometimes that hotel has free chocolates. And sometimes you feel compelled to create using the chocolate wrappers. And sometimes you make yourself a ring:



Or is that just me...

Hot Chick

I felt faintly ridiculous earlier this evening when I phoned Pizza Hut and asked them to bring me a "large Italian Hot Chick". Not as ridiculous as when she arrived though and I realised I'd phoned the local brothel in error. What a mistake-a to make-a as they say in Italy. I apologised profusely and sent her back. And then I ordered an actual pizza. Tasty.

Halfway!

So last night I passed the halfway point in my Run-a-Thon 500. This is truly a milestone achievement. I was however, quite disappointed to find no actual marker at the 250 mile point (which if you're interested was in the centre of here.) There was just bushes and grass. And a slight smell from the nearby sewerage works. Ho hum, such is life.

Anyway, it's not too late to sponsor me if you (yes, I mean you) haven't done so already. Go on, it'll make you feel good. And I'm pretty sure I sponsored you last year/this year/next year (delete as appropriate). I may even have paid up!

On a scale of Paris to York, I'm on England's M20 heading towards London and will reach the M25 London Orbital in about 10 miles (likely to be next Tuesday). I hope it's not rush hour!

New Coke

I tried a new drink yesterday that's just been launched in the UK - Coca Cola Zero. It's Coke, but with zero calories.

Except that a quick reading of the nutritional information shows that zero is something of an underestimate since a half litre bottle actually contains three calories. That's infinitely more than zero. Most children could tell you that zero is not the same as three. If a child has three toys and I remove three toys so that they have zero toys, they are not indifferent to this. In fact they'd likely cry like a baby.

I admit that Coca Cola Three would not have been as good a name, but even so I felt a little cheated. The only potential excuse Coke have is that they may make it with zero calories in other territories but they've had to use different (caloried) chemicals here to fit in with some legislative restrictions. But I'd just be guessing - I'm not a food doctor.

It didn't taste too bad though. More like Coke than Diet Coke is. I'm not sure how CCZ is different to DC though. I never understood the difference between Diet Pepsi and Pepsi Max so I expect it's like that.

And three calories isn't much (even though it is three more than the claimed zero). Recommended daily calorific amount for a man like me is 2500. This means I could drink 400 litres of CCZ a day without getting fat! That's equivalent to drinking over five times my own body weight! Without putting on any weight at all! Absolutely amazing. And if I did drink that much, it would weigh so much that lifting it all would be lots of exercise that would mean I'd need yet more calories and I'd be able to drink more coke!

I think it still probably rots your teeth though.

More Running. I used to do fun things...

Against my better judgement, and some would say common sense, I decided to go out on a ten mile run early yesterday evening. The potential problem here was not so much the length (I'd done nine the previous weekend, after all) but the weather. It had been really hot all weekend and showed no major signs of changing. So a sensible person would have said: "I'll stay in and drink beers and watch the television". What I said was "I'll head out and do two hours of exercise in some excessive hotness and possibly nearly die".

Now, fair enough, it wasn't exactly Death Valley in York - temperatures were around 25 degrees Celsius. But that's quite a lot. I had however not unprepared myself for this. For earlier on the Sunday I had been shopping. I finally decided that warm jogging bottoms were no longer a good thing to wear. They are not good summer sportswear. So I bought some proper running shorts! Not stupid really short ones though - they look ridiculous on the best of people. My new shorts descend to a few inches above my knees. This gives adequate coolness, flexibility and not-looking-silly-ness.

But best (?) of all, they are like swimming trunks in that they have mesh undercrackers built into them. Hence no need to wear separate pants with my shorts. I think. It's possible you're supposed to wear underwear as well - I just guessed that that wasn't the case. Am I right? Am I wrong? It doesn't matter. I didn't wear pants and it was perfectly comfy. Hah hah - I ran all around York with no pants on! :-)

So it was lucky that I'd remembered to put the shorts on instead!

The actual run itself was fairly hard work (cos it was very hot!). I only had a half litre of water with me so I had to ration it quite carefully. Also I was going quite slowly to ensure I'd last the distance, despite this meaning that I had to spend more time in the heat that way. So my total time ended up at one hour fifty five. I'll have to pick things up a little bit to get to my arbitrary two hours fifteen minutes target for the Great North Run. I'm still managing to go without stopping though (apart from when crossing the occasional road) so I'm happy with that.

I feel like I'm moaning about the heat quite a lot. Tough. It's hot. And the air conditioning at work is f**ked (again).

Going round in circles

The Yorkshire Wheel dominates the local skyline around here. That's not too hard to do, as there are only about two high buildings in the whole of York. It's been up for about two or three months now and I've just about got used to it. It's moved from being a "wow, look at that" construction to something I pass by two or three times a day and pay as much attention to as most lamp-posts.

Anyway, yesterday was another hot, clear, gorgeous day so it seemed like a good time to finally spend my six pounds and have a go on it. Despite the lovely weather it wasn't really that busy - I suspect this was due to a certain sporting event taking place on the television. Me being me, I wasn't at all interested in seeing that so the Wheel was a good alternative (after a quick picnic (ok, sandwich) behind the Minster).



No queues, so we didn't have to wait long to go on. And then you go on and you go round and round and round three or four times. I lost count a little. Up, down, round it goes, where it stops no-one knows.

The view from the top is pretty good and you can see both of York's landmarks. But they're all small like toys. I could also see my flat (I wasn't in) and my office (I wasn't there either).

The main problem though was that because it was very hot, the capsules were also very hot. They have air conditioning but ours didn't seem to be working very well. Darn modern technology. In the old days, you'd just open a window and it would sort everything. I suppose insects are less of a problem when you have air-con. At least it was only a short walk home to get a cool drink after.

Dinner at Trickster's

I went for dinner with me girl last night at Trickster's Lane on Fossgate. I haven't been there before but I think it has a reputation as one of York's better restaurants. I hadn't bothered booking in advance for two reasons: I hadn't actually chosen anywhere in advance, and also I figured that things would be fairly quiet because of the football. And this turned out to be true. Though I've often found that most places tend to be able to squeeze in a table for two at reasonably short notice.

We had a rather tasty bottle of Pinotage and I went for the Sea Bass with Sweet Chilli Sauce. It was a very perky looking little fish! And very tasty too. I wouldn't perhaps normally pair fish and chilli but the combo worked well.



Apparently the mussels were also really good - I didn't have them myself for once though as I'm not a fan of the creamy type sauce they were in. I much prefer mussels in a tomato based sauce. Yes.

All the staff were very friendly and helpful. They even carried our drinks from the reception area to our table for us! I liked the whole look and feel of the place. Big chunky wooden tables and not at all pretentious. All in all, I wouldn't hesitate to recommend it. Although it's perhaps not York's cheapest eaterie :-)

It's being closed down soon for a complete refurbishment and a name change, but with the same management. I have no idea why this is happening as it seemed perfectly nice as it was but it'll be an excuse to go back again!

Friday Meeting

I had a good meeting this afternoon. Some things I said:

 

- " **click** Sorry - I spilt my coffee and the spillage looked like a picture of a cheery ghost so I thought I'd take a photo before it dried."

 

 - "I had a thought so I've written it on the side of this plastic coffee cup so I wouldn't forget. Here it is!"

 

- Boss: "Is there anything we've missed?". Me: "How would we know?".

 

I love Friday afternoons.

Summer's here kids

Well, summer's officially here now. Here's why:

1. It's been really bloomin' hot. I went for a run and found it to be REALLY BLOOMIN' HOT. My own fault for going out early evening maybe, but even so...

2. I've just got back from seeing the Cosmic Rough Riders who are officially one of the most summeriest bands in the UK. They made me smile with their songs.

So tomorrow is the second day of Summer. Wahey!

Phone Savings

This will be a handy tip for people who are stupid like what I am.

For the last forever years I have been paying £1.75 to British Telecom to get the Caller Display system. I find this quite useful as it lets you see the number of the person that is calling you and then ignore the call if desired. Obviously I never use this power for evil. However, whilst playing around on the BT website yesterday I discovered something (reasonably well hidden): you don't have to pay the money to get this. There is another way.

All you have to do is subscribe to "BT Privacy" instead. It's free and includes automatic registration with the TPS, with whom I am already registered, and you also get free Caller Display thrown in. So I did this. Hey presto, savings of twenty one English pounds per annum. Possibly plus VAT.

It's hard to see how they don't just give existing customers this automatically - oh, hang on, it's not. It's because they are greedy capitalist b**tards. Ahem.

So my recommendation to anyone reading is to do this same thing. And if you don't want Caller Display or if you're with a different company, then register with the TPS anyway because it really works and virtually eliminates unwanted phone calls (ie all of them).

This was a public service announcement. Bye!

For no good reason...

On the way home today I was thinking about an experiment. I shall present it here in an A-Level physics practical style:

-----------------------

Objective
To determine whether audio language or visual language attenuates more quickly with distance.

Equipment Required:
1. A blind person (A) with perfect hearing
2. A deaf person (B) with perfect sight
3. A person (C) who can speak and do sign language (sight and hearing optional)
4. A trolley
5. Ticker tape
6. A piece of lined paper
7. A sharp pencil

Method
1. Place the person, C, in the trolley facing towards persons A and B.
2. Attach the ticker tape to the trolley.
3. Get C to start talking and signing as normal. It doesn't matter what they say, as long as it is not totally predictable.
4. Ensure A can hear C's voice and B can see C's signs.
5. Raise A's right arm in the air.
6. Raise B's left arm in the air.
7. Pull the trolley away from A and B slowly. Ensure that the ticker tape is ticking whilst this is happening.
8. Ensure that A and B know the following things: (a) that B should lower his raised arm as soon as he can no longer understand C's signs and (b) that A should lower his raised hand as soon as he can no longer understand C's voice.
9. Probably best to do stage 8 before stage 3.
10 Wait until A or B does the thing from stage 8.
11. If neither person lowers their arm before the ticker tape runs out, politely re-explain the requirements to A and B. It may be necessary to enlist C's help to communicate with B. Restart the experiment from stage 2.
12. Record whose arm fell first on a piece of lined paper using a sharp pencil.

Results
???

Conclusion
???

-----------------------

Sadly I am unable to complete the final two sections because I have not carried out the experiment. The reason I haven't done this is because I do not have any of the required equipment apart from the piece of lined paper. Not even a sharp pencil!

I tried doing it as a thought experiment but all the people I thought about (A, B and C) kept getting bored and wondering off halfway through. Idiots. And the trolley had a broken wheel.

So I'm a bit stuck. Can anyone help? Which is the best means of communication over longer distances - sign language or speaking? And is C allowed to shout and/or make really big gestures?

Another month, another mile

Since it's now June, I've had to up my maximum running distance again. Another month is another mile. On Sunday I did my first nine mile run. It was quite hard work, but I finished in about one hour forty. Which incidentally, is a hell of a long time to be running for. That's enough time to cook and eat around five fresh pizzas. Or alternatively, it's enough to have sex well over a hundred times. You'd be quite tired afterwards I guess, but then I was quite tired after the running so maybe there's not that much difference.

I think it's possibly getting easier to add the extra mile each month. Proportionately it's certainly a smaller physical increment each time, but I think it also gets easier mentally too. After all, I'm probably going to be physically tired well before I'm supposed to finish so it just becomes a case of getting used to this and seeing how long I can force myself onwards for. Slightly masochistic maybe...

But the thought of that lovely hot bath and glass of wine at the end is a good thing to have in mind.

At The Drive-In

Last night I sat in a dark car park on the Knavesmire for several hours. Lots of people kept flashing their lights and there were lots of strangers making out in many of the cars. Yes, that's right: I went dogging.

Ha ha, fooled you. I wasn't really dogging. I was at a drive-in movie.



I've never been to a drive-in before. I think the main reason for this is that they are a bit daft and also quite uncommon these days. You sit potentially quite far from the screen, in a car seat that is nowhere near as comfy as the seat in a decent cinema. If you're lucky it doesn't rain so that you can actually see the screen. Sound, however, works pretty well as it can be broadcast over a local FM frequency.

And you can take a picnic - normal cinema owners are always slightly averse to people doing this. And you can also take wine (non-drivers only, obvs).

Yesterday's movie was the classic Grease. Always a fine film, and one that felt particularly appropriate for the drive-in arena, being set as it was in the 50s when that particular form of cinema viewing was actually considered normal. We were quite far back as we'd watched Doctor Who before leaving home - this led to us being some of the last people to arrive, at around quarter past eight. The actual film, however, couldn't start until it was dark so we still had about an hour and a half to eat and drink.

Whilst there some idiot kept trying to add my phone to their Bluetooth thing. I couldn't tell who it was other than that the phone was called "Reef". Later, however, I heard a parent in a nearby car refer to one of her four boys by that name. Stupid child with a stupid name. My theory on the name was that the woman has named each of her children after the drink she was Drunk-Out-Of-Her-Skull on when she conceived. This was later borne out when I discovered the other boys were named "Strongbow", "Tenants Super" and "Screaming Orgasm". Ok, I made up this last bit.

Just ignore the crappy DRM

One of the best things about iTunes is that it lets you get buy tracks that you'd be embarassed to buy in the shops. But I won't say what I just bought. Because it's embarassing.

St Prescott

I never thought I'd say this, but I almost feel sorry for Deputy Prime Minister John Prescott. The poor fat man has now been forced to give up his freebie official home, all because he played a little game of croquet.

He managed to survive the thing where he owned two whole Jaguar cars. He survived the time that he actually punched a member of the public on television. He survived shagging his secretary on his work desk. But... then the revelation came that one time when Mr Blair had left the country so that JP was in charge, within just a couple of hours, he played CROQUET!!!! Can you imagine a worse thing than that?

Apparently this was a really bad thing for him to do, but I don't understand why. I was at a university for three years where croquet was oft played in summer times. I never played myself, but it always looked harmless, if slightly silly and pointless. Certainly I am aware of no cases where someone was seen to play the game and was then asked to leave the university. The whole violent Alice in Wonderland aspect just doesn't happen in real life.

Croquet just isn't bad. Now, if Prescott had done any of the following things within a few hours of Blair going on hols I'd be more against him:

1) He wandered over to the nuclear bunker and lovingly fondled the Big Red Button for a few minutes before shouting "f**k Wales" and then pressing it.

2) He went off to find Mrs Blair and then made love to her for eight solid hours because they've had this thing for years but they never found a time when they could be alone together.

3) He went for a walk around town and then punched a member of the public in the head.

But he never did any of these things (apart from number three) so I don't see the issue! I say to all the British People: Let this man keep his official home. He has never done nothing wrong. In fact he should be sainted. Are you listening Mr German Pope (sorry, I've forgot your name)? Saint him now!

H1 2006 TV

Over the last week or so I've seen some great television. Three series have come to a close - Season 5 of 24, Season 2 of Lost and Season 1 of Prison Break. To commemorate these endings I've penned some pointless haikus to summarise each series.

Lost 2
Button in a hatch
Must be pressed often or else.
There's also more folk.

Prison Break 1
Baldy Linc's in jail,
Framed by an evil comp'ny.
Escape with Mike's tatts!

24 5
Jack's back from the dead
To save LA from nerve gas:
(Spoiler deleted)

All three series together add up to the best part of two to three days worth of solid television. This means that I have spent one to two percent of 2006 watching these. Although that's not a huge number, it feels a bit... wrong.

But all the same, roll on next January!

I'm a loser, baby

On the way home from work today I saw a car that had a numberplate with the letters CAR on it. A few minutes later I saw a bus that had a numberplate with the letters BUS on it. How strange!

In related news, a car owner and a bus driver today saw a man walking up the road with LOSER written all over him :-)

Cambridge Brass

I went back to Cambridge at the weekend. I think it's the first time I've been down there since around 2000, or possibly 2001. Either way, it's quite some years. I was at university there so I know the city reasonably well. Or at least I thought I did. I navigated to the hotel easily enough, but then I started to remember places I used to go to, but then realised I wasn't 100% sure of the directions any more. Example: I remembered a pub by the river called The Mill, but I couldn't quite remember how it fitted into the city. How time destroys the old grey cells. Finding it actually turned out to be quite straightforward once I was actually out walking around (It's on Mill Lane), but I still felt a little disconcerted.

Most of the colleges are closed to visitors at the moment to give the lazy students a bit of peace and quiet whilst they study for their exams. I might have been able to get into them if I'd remembered to take a university membership card or something like that, but I hadn't so that was that. I did have a wander up to my old college, Selwyn though. It hasn't changed much, from the outside at least.



They have begun to construct a whole new court next to the main part of the college. It's coming on well and seems to fit in well with the architectural style of the older parts (apart from horrid looking Cripps Court over the road). It was nice to see it in real life rather than just photos on the internet.

The reason I was in Cambridge was though completely unrelated to me being a past student there. My girlfriend's sister was competing in the confusingly named All England Masters International which is a brass band competition. And it is certainly not comprised only of teams from England, or even the UK. Odd.

A brass band competition seems to comprise of (in this case) 21 bands who all play the same 15 minute long piece. Yesterday it was Paganini's Variations (you know it - it's the one that goes Da da da da da da da da da da). If you have a good ear and are familiar with brass then you might be able to spot differences between the bands. To me though they all sounded pretty similar.

Well, ok, I didn't actually sit through all 21 of them. We left after the first two (which included the one we had gone to watch). But they both sounded fine to me. I think if I'd had to sit and listen to all of the bands I might have gone a little insane. Nobody should have to sit through something like that.

The worst thing was however the price. Sixteen pounds. Each! Arguably that's good value if you sit through all six hours of the competition, or however long it lasts for, but still... Sixteen pounds! They weren't even the best seats - we were near the back of the balcony!

Cambridge

This is cool. I'm in Cambridge this evening and as an experiment, I'm writing this on my phone! Don't know if it will work or not though!

Puzzle not Street

I think I'd forgotten how much fun Super Puzzle Fighter 2 Turbo was to play. Way better than the Street Fighting variety. I've remembered now.

Sandwich News

Over the last couple of years, a lot of Subways have opened in York. I'm talking about the sandwich shops rather than the underground tunnels. To the best of my knowledge, York still lacks a decent subway system. It could be a secret, eyes only type network I suppose. Possibly used to smuggle illegal vicars out of the Minster.

I have only eaten from Subway once before, and that time I didn't actually go in myself - Chip went in and did all the complicated stuff. That was about two years ago. Today I felt like trying the full experience for myself. Not sure why, I just did.

I had a Foot Long Chicken Teriyaki on Hearty Italian bread (Toasted) with Lettuce, Red Onion and (stop me if you're bored) Green Peppers. With Sweet Onion Sauce. Now it was undeniably a very tasty sandwich. But it cost £4.60!! I could have had two pints of beer for that! Or a Pizza Hut All You Can Eat Buffet plus two packets of crisps. It seems like a VERY EXPENSIVE SANDWICH to me.

But it was good, and I would return. I'll just have to save up first.

In other completely unrelated news, I've just noticed that Flickr has finally gone out of Beta! And in to... Gamma. Hmmmm.

Beware of Peril

I'm a big fan of the little messages on TV film trailers that warn of the nasty things that may be in store for unsuspecting viewers ie "contains scenes of sex and violence". The best ones are the ones that warn of quite innocuous things. "Contains mild peril" seems to pop up on children's films from time to time. I'm never sure quite how perilous peril can get before it ceases to be mild and becomes instead just "peril" or perhaps even "strong peril".

I also worry about the films that warn that they contain "language". That's just odd.

I saw a trailer for the new monkey-based cartoon Curious George the other day. The warning on this one was a bit strange. It said "contains no sex, violence or bad language". This is weird.

Why have they felt the need to mention that there is no sex in a children's animated cartoon about a monkey? Do parents watch a trailer and think "Wow, that film looks great for my children but there's a risk that the curious monkey, George, might take a banana and be curious as to what might happen if he stuffs it up his arse. Oh, no it's fine. The warning implies there will be no monkey-buggery here. It's safe". Have perhaps parents been burnt by unexpected cartoon sex before? Was there some in Bambi that I missed?

I just don't get it.

Going somewhat the other way is the upcoming film Reeker. I know nothing about this film but my attention was drawn to it by a letter in this month's Total Film. The warning for this film says "This film is not yet rated. Graphic bloody violence, terror, language, drug-use, half a trucker".

Yes, Half A Trucker. How cool is that? Probably not suitable for children though.

Drivetime

I went driving in a car this evening for the first time in over three years. I was expecting it to be quite scary but it wasn't too bad. Clifton Moor is quite fun to drive around in an evening if you like car parks. Then I drove round the ring road to Monks Cross and did some shopping. Beer, wine, crisps and pizza. What more could I ever need from a supermarket?

I was quite pleased with myself that I wasn't distracted by car numberplates whilst I was behind the wheel. Last time I drove I wasn't playing CNPS. Now that I am, I have to be careful to avoid crashes whilst monitoring plates. It went ok and I even got one spot whilst on the road. Which rather nicely was my third of the day.

217.

I got wet

Today has mostly been rainy. Yesterday was fairly wet, but today was super-wet. I spent most of the afternoon with wet legs after I stupidly decided to go out at lunchtime. I didn't take an umbrella with me (not my brightest move) and so I rapidly became soaked. When I got back I had to dry my hair with a pret-a-manger napkin. It wasn't really successful. I think there's a lesson in there somewhere.

Finland, Finland, Finland

Last night was the 51st Eurovision song contest. Our annual dose of odd euro-tunes and strange dancing. This year, a Finnish band came out of left field and won by a comfortable mile by dressing like aliens and playing some Death Metal.



In reality, it was about as metal as Mcfly. It was very entertaining though, and featured lines like "It's the a-rock-a-lypse" which it would be hard to use in any song in a bad way.

Lithuania deserve a special mention for possibly the most blatantly unsubtle. yet briliant lyrics I've ever witnessed: "we are the winnners, of Eurovision - vote for us" etc. They came about fifth in the end which made them liars. Shame.

Beast racing

I went to the horse races yesterday. It was very very windy. Although not sunny, it would have been warm enough without the wind. With the wind it was a little unpleasant at times but, being British, we darn well suffered it and stayed outside as much as possible.

Due to stopping off for a pint and a burger along the way we missed the first race, or at least the opportunity to place a bet on it. The next four races didn't go so well for me though - I lost five pounds on each one by choosing shit horses. Luckily in the sixth race my horse came in at 5 to 1 (well done Collateral Damage!) putting me five pounds up in total. I then did something rather sensible - I quit while I was ahead. I could have put the five pounds of winnings on the final race and ended up no worse off than break even. But I didn't! I took my money home. Wise decision as it turns out as I would have selected another donkey.

We also went to look at some of the horses in the paddock. They are big! I don't normally get so close to the animals but they really are big beasts!

A decent performance

I just heard this evening that my team from last week's treasure hunt, Beg, Steal or Zorro somehow managed to actually win the thing. To celebrate this momentous feat, I dressed back up as Zorro and attacked, and captured Clifford's Tower.



Seems like our scores weren't top of the hill in any category, but we put in a solid performance across the board - decent costumes, decent treasure, decent quiz answers, decent drinking and decent whatever else. It all led to an overall first place. Go us!

Actually, there was one category we did do best in and that was getting video(s) of people answering the question "What Is An Actuary". And that video was my baby. Go me! Not sure I contributed too much else though :-)

A Doctor Who Conspiracy...

I'm not normally one for conspiracy theories but I think there's something going on over at the offices of New Scientist. Specifically I think that:

New Scientist is in league with the creators of Doctor Who and are publishing articles to make people believe that stories in said programme could actually happen.

I have evidence.

A couple of weeks ago, shortly before the episode where everyone's favourite robot dog, K9, returned to our screens, an article was published about... Robot Dogs! Scientists have been using Sony's (now discontinued) Aibo to conduct research into robotics. Now that it is no longer being produced they need to build an alternative. "Now is the time for us to stop being lazy and using Sony's platform. We need to get together to build a better system." says David Calkins of San Francisco State University. What would his ideal replacement look like? It would be "brick shaped and include a standard computer "brain" From that base it would be completely modifiable. Researchers could snap on different heads, legs, cameras and sensors". Presumably wheels too. Sounds like a perfect prototype for something that could one day evolve into K9!

But that's not all. The next evidence is even stronger!

In this week's issue (13 May) there is a special report on "Enhanced Humans". "Why settle for what you were born with?" it asks. "Are you ready for your upgrade?" it also asks. It talks about replacing body parts with artificial ones... can it only be coincidence that this was published in the same week that the Cybermen returned in Doctor Who? I think not.

I will be scouring future issues for some more evidence.

What's that coming over the hill?

Heard a fantastic song on the radio the other day: Monster by The Automatic. I don't know much about the band - they're possibly quite well known. I'm not sure. The song's great anyway. A real stomper.

Still tired again today and lacking the energy and imagination to write anything longer than th

Bedtime

I haven't written any of the hilarious things I meant to write today. But now it's bedtime and I'm tired. Goodnight world!

How to make gammon

I went back to Sheffield today to visit my parents, sister, bro-in-law and nephew. It's always excellent to get a decent home-cooked Sunday lunch. Today was gammon.

This made me realise something. Gammon comes from pigs. Pork also comes from pigs. Pork is not gammon. I have no idea what makes pig into gammon compared to what makes it into pork. I could probably look it up but I'm lazy. I will assume for the sake of argument that the pig-slaughterer has two knives: a pork knife and a gammon knife. Each of these knives has been blessed by a different meat-god. Hence if the pig-slaughterer wants to make gammon all he has to do are the following steps. I've phrased them in a way that a text-adventure parser would understand - this might be useful for you if you ever need to kill a pig in Zork.

1. Choose pig
2. Take gammon knife
3. Kill pig with gammon knife
4. Enjoy gammon
5. Quit

Your score is 3/200. You are a loser.

The Drinks of Zorro

Another actuarial pub treasure hunt on Thursday which meant more fancy dress fun. This time me and my team were Zorros - masked up, sworded fighters for all that is good.



I'm not quite sure what I was thinking when I took this next photo:



One task we had for the evening was to find a stranger and film them answering the question "What is an actuary?" - a question that even I have been known to struggle with from time to time. We only needed to get one, but I got a bit carried away and ended up with about nine videos. Hard to pick a favourite, but I did like the answer given by a young couple down by the river. The guy tried for a while to give an answer and wasn't really close - he sounded to be describing an auditor if anything. His girlfriend though finally had inspiration and shouted in at the end "and they're gay!".

I also liked the chap on reception in the Moat House Hotel who despite looking very confused and slightly scared by us did try to give an answer and didn't call security to eject us. The firemen in the fire station were much less friendly though. They wouldn't talk to me at all. Stupid life-saving uniformed miserables.

Top Time-saving Tip

My new shiny box has an excellent time-saving feature that I hadn't anticipated. Possibly all similar boxes do this too.

If you've recorded something on to the hard drive you can play it back before work in the morning. So far so normal. But then when you watch it back, rather than watch in realtime, you can play it back at 1.5x normal speed. The sound is all still fine, speech is perfectly understandable and not even raised in pitch. The only times things are hard to follow are periods of fast talking, or fast action scenes. Other than that it's just like normal except everyone has a bit of a hurry on.

It works really well! And it means I can watch a 45 minute programme in just half an hour. An extra 15 minutes of my life is released for other things!

If only I could do the same thing at work...

The pineapple ain't so bad

Nice sunny day => first fruit pastille lolly of they year. Yum!

The Argos of sandwich shops

What occurred to me today was the following: York's sandwich shop, Krusties, is the Argos of sandwich shops. Let me briefly explain.

You go in and you choose your sandwich from the menu on the wall (Argos catalogue). Sometimes they have special sandwiches on a blackboard by the front door (special offer / sale mini catalogue). Then you order your chosen sandwich (electrical appliance) from the serving wench (serving wench). Then you wait for a bit and after some time your sandwich (electrical appliance) is brought out from the back room by a different serving wench (different serving wench). Then you leave and eat your sandwich (plug in your appliance).

See? Identical!

Without wishing to take the analogy too far, Krusties also has a special glass cabinet where they keep the special things. This is again just like Argos which has a special glass cabinet for the highly classy Elizabeth Duke jewellery.

Uncanny!

Top Gear and Doctor Who

I ended up watching Top Gear last night. Not because I wanted to, just because there wasn't anything better on. But as always when I end up watching it, it was highly entertaining. Considering it is a programme about cars and not much else, and I have no major interest in cars, it's always very watchable. And it's also very funny. For example, last night they took a people carrier and inexpertly converted it into a convertible. Then they took it to a safari park, argued about whether monkeys or lions are most dangerous, before finally driving it through a very powerful carwash. It was more dangerous than both lions and monkeys because there are big sheets of exposed glass flapping around (the design of the convertible seemed to involve just removing the metal that normally surrounds the windows).

But the main thing that struck me was something else.

Richard "Top Gear" Hammond looks very like David "Dr Who" Tennant. It's uncanny.

Which brings me on to Dr Who. I'm quite enjoying the new series. The first episode wasn't the best but it's been strong since then. David Tennant is a fantastic Doctor. For the first time, the BBC have been putting commentaries for each episode online after the episode has been broadcast. Like the ones you get on DVDs, some are more interesting than others depending on who's doing them. Sometimes you get long silences as the people talking try to decide what to say, or you just hear them going "Hmmm.... ahhh..... yes.... ahhhh...." etc. But sometimes they work really well.

The most recent one (for ep 4) features writer Steven Moffat (who wrote Coupling amongst other things) and the actor who plays the not-quite-as-irritating-as-he-was-in-the-first-series Mickey, Noel Clarke. They were happy to drift off on tangents such as discussing how the monks in episode two looked like they'd been taken straight off one of the BBC One idents where they have lots of red dancers. Which is a valid point. Most of it revolved around a discussion over whether the Doctor was getting any or not.

I've got into a routine now where I listen to the commentary whilst out running on the Sunday. It's tragic really. But it entertains me and keeps my mind off the constant leg-moving.

Running water

For the second Sunday in a row I've just done an eight mile run and then had a bath with a glass of red wine (Valpolicella, if you're asking) and currently I'm actually feeling pretty good. I did a new thing this week as an experiment - I took a bottle of water with me. Often when I'm running I will think: "My mouth is quite dry. I wish I had some water to drink". But inevitably I have no water and no way of obtaining any. I don't take money out with me, and even if I did I'd have to make a stop to use it to make a purchase and I'm not allowed to make that sort of stop within my own self-imposed running rules.

Even were I to have money and even were I not to have imposed self-imposed running rules upon myself, I'm not sure most shopkeepers would want a sweaty man coming into their nice local shops to buy a bottle of water. I'd make the place look untidy. They might even think I was a violent sweaty drunk tramp and call security (ie get out their big stick from under the counter). So it's not an option for me.

Taking the water with me from the outset wasn't too bad though. The obvious drawback is that you have to carry the water with you the whole time. This isn't so bad though as it gets lighter the more you drink. And if you sweat lots then even the overall weight you're taking round may decrease as time goes on. It was only half a litre (ie half a kilogram) in any case - and it probably means I'm getting even better exercise. Minor weight training for the old arms.

I did, however, realise fairly soon that I'd made one fairly basic mistake. The water I took was straight from the fridge. Hence it was cold. This would have been alright except that I had to carry the coldness in my bare hands. Brrrr! It warmed up after a few miles though. Whether that was caused by heat being transferred from my hands, general atmospheric warming, kinetic energy from being shaken a lot or just a passing solar flare I can't say. Whatever it was, it worked and I was glad.

Death by Typewriter

I've spent some time today playing an old computer game that I've not played for years. Possibly one of the daftest (in a good way) games ever made: The Typing of The Dead. It's basically exactly the same game as the lightgun game House of The Dead 2 but rather than shoot zombies with guns you... er.. you type at them on a keyboard. For example a zombie might appear with the word "rabbit" displayed in front of it. All the player (ie me) has to do is type the letters as quickly as possible before the zombie attacks. And each letter sounds like a gunshot. Bang bang bang bang bang bang. More powerful monsters have longer phrases. Little ones might just have single letter to type.

I think the game was originally put out on the Dreamcast, possibly only in Japan, but I have the PC version. This has led to a very surreal design decision on the part of the makers. Virtually all the in game graphics are identical to those in House of the Dead 2 except for one change. Rather than the lead good guys carrying guns around with them, they now have keyboards strapped around their front and a Dreamcast strapped on their back Ghostbusters stylee. So this means that rather than the keyboard just being a substitute for a gun for gaming purposes, it has also replaced the gun for story and visual purposes too. It's just plain odd.

Despite the inherent weirdness, the game works really well and is lots of fun to play. And it even has a proper touch-typing tutorial mode too in case you start having too much fun.

I'd quite like to see a version of Saving Private Ryan with the same replacements. The beach landing scene would be hilarious. I suppose there'd be a further level of incredulity caused here since Dreamcasts weren't invented until 1999. But then Tom Hanks isn't really a soldier either (no, really - he isn't) so maybe you could put it all down to the magic of the movies.

Shiny new toy

Today I finally leave behind the murky world of VHS video cassettes forever. And not a day too soon - they're rubbish. I've just got myself a combined DVD-recorder, hard-drive recorder and Freeview box which means I can now do all sorts of fun things like... er... watch DVDs, record things and watch digital telly. Which is cool, except I could do all those things already. I'm sure I'll find some proper advantages to the new system soon.

Hopefully soon, anyway. I haven't actually got the thing yet. I'm sitting around waiting for a delivery van to arrive. It's due anytime between 5pm and 8pm, so I still have potentially another hour to wait. This is annoying because:

a) I want my new shiny toy
b) I want to go running tonight before it starts raining

The rain isn't definite but I think it's pretty likely since it's been dead warm all day.

Anyway, one advantage I definitely will have is a reduction in the amount of boxes and spaghetti around my television. I'll be combining three existing boxes plus all their wires into a single unit. There'll still be a load of other stuff cluttering up the area but it'll be a certain improvement on the prior position.

So now I'm just waiting, waiting, waiting, bit bored. Perhaps I'll just sit here typing nonsense for the next hour.

Nah.

What could be better than pizza and beer?

Whilst in Glasgow, we visited the Republic Bier Halle. It's like a German beer hall and sells a huge range of beers. However, I feel it has improved on the German model in two very important ways:

1. The Food
2. It's not in Germany

Item 2 here speaks for itself. Item 1 requires a little more explanation. A typical German beer hall sells food that is typically German: mostly sausage and cabbage. All German food ends in "age" I think - it must be a local law. Anyway, the Glasgow place has abandoned this and instead serves really nice pizza. Good thin crispy base, and excellent range of toppings. It's cheap too - they seem to have it on 2 for 1 most of the time. I like.

Drink Limitations

Last night I went to see Snow Patrol at the Glasgow ABC - an old cinema that's been converted into a venue.



It was a great gig, even though I don't approve of what Gary's done to his hair. He seems to have had a perm. Not a good look.



I had a strange experience at the bar. I went to order two glasses of red wine, and the lady serving me said that they were only allowed to give one alcoholic drink per person. Because I had gone to the bar on my own, I was unable to prove that the second drink was for someone else over 18 and so she only let me buy one (large) glass of red wine.

This was odd because:
a) earlier in the evening, two beers had been purchased in similar circumstances with no problems,
b) the wine was easily big enough to count as two drinks had it been in two glasses rather than one. I could easily have taken this extra large wine and shared it with a hypothetical 17 year old elsewhere in the venue.

After I'd bought the drink, I think I was supposed to leave the bar. However, I asked the lady if I could then buy a second glass of red wine. She thought for a couple of seconds and then said ok. Although this was the result I wanted, it clearly makes a mockery of the whole rule and the serving wench in question should probably be sacked. Doesn't she realise that I could have been buying that second wine for a child?

It seemed like such a weird, odd rule though. I think the implication was that had I been buying drinks for a group of four 40 year old men (rather than one 30 year old man and a girl who was definitely over 18) I would have had to take all three of the other men to the bar with me or maybe just their ID cards, should they have thought to bring them. Maybe people just don't buy drinks for other people in Glasgow.

One thing that was nice about all the bars though was the new Scottish no-smoking law. It really does make places more pleasant to visit. Roll on Summer 2007 where the same thing will be introduced down here.

Coffee time

I made some Espressos (Espressi? Espressa? Espresseywessey?) yesterday. They turned out well:



Any resemblance between this photo and a pair of breasts is entirely coincidental. And would have to relate to a very odd looking lady.

Running, Brothels and Red Wine

This evening I have done my longest ever run - eight miles in just over eighty minutes. The half marathon is starting to feel achievable.

When I got home, I was obviously a little tired. So I decided to have an actual bath. I can't remember the last time I had a bath - I think I've only had one since I've been in the flat (ie in the last three years!). It was quite good though. I had some Ylang and Neroli bubble bath which is supposed to be a muscle relaxant. Certainly my legs feel ok now so maybe it works. I have no idea what either Ylang or Neroli are - they sound like two girls you might meet in a Thai brothel Maybe they make the bubble bath in their spare time and sell it on for a bit of extra cash for the weekend.

To make the bath extra decadent, I also took a glass of red wine with me (to drink rather than to add to the bath itself). Yeah, I know it's a bit gay, but it was good nevertheless.

One third

I'm a third of the way through my run-a-thon, both in terms of distance travelled and of time taken. 167 miles done, 333 more to go. That's still quite a long way.

On a scale of Paris to York, I'm just about to leave the French A1 and head towards Calais. The traffic has been reasonable and I'm hoping that the English Channel will not be too choppy. It'll be good to return to England.

Planning to do a longish run (seven miles or so) tomorrow, subject to hangovers.

Birthday cakes

I was supposed to have bought cakes for my colleagues at work for my birthday. I was supposed to have done this at the start of last week, but I forgot. And then I forgot at the start of this week too. On Wednesday, my boss drew me a diagram explaining how to buy cakes, with a deadline of Thursday. On Thursday however, I was too busy. So today my whole team frogmarched me to the cake shop where I finally bought the cakes. I wouldn't have minded except that I was full of lunch at the time and didn't want a cake. So I didn't have one.

Some things about Madrid

At the weekend, I went to Madrid with a few friends to celebrate my birthday (which was the previous weekend). Flew out on Friday afternoon, returned on Sunday night.

I haven't been to Spain since I was a teenager, when I spent a month around (but mostly not actually in) Alicante. Back then, they still had Pesetas, booze was dead cheap and everywhere looked like a building site. Now, in 2006 they have Euros, booze is a similar price to here but everywhere still looks like a building site. Come on Spain, finish building your stuff already!

Madrid airport is pretty huge. We flew into Terminal 4, and then had to go on the longest underground monorail journey in the world in order to get to the terminal exit. The monorail was pretty cool though - it looked just like the one at the start of the original Half Life, just without the occasional huge industrial cavern. Overall it took us the best part of three hours from getting off the plane to arriving at the hotel in the centre of Madrid (it involved a little bus, the monorail, some walking, a bigger bus and four Metro lines). Note to anyone arriving at T4: Just get a taxi into town instead. You won't regret it.

Here's a view of Madrid from afar. You have to get a cable car to get to where this was taken from. The Palacio Real (Royal Palace) is dead centre.



Random thoughts and things:

1. Madrid is right in the middle of Spain. This means it has no beaches, unlike some of the edges of the country.

2. Madrid does however seem to have a lot of rain. On the Saturday we got caught in possibly the most torrential rain storm I've ever been in, ever. With added large hail. It was so wet it was funny. But we did get very wet. For some time afterwards, there were huge drifts of used hailstones all over the city. Looked like sago.



3. Most food is ham or cheese. Some places serve ham and cheese together.

4. Our hotel was near a big train station, Atocha. For some reason unbeknownst to me, some madman at some point in the past decided to build a tropical garden smack in the middle of it:



I don't know why he (it must have been a he) did this.

5. I had a challenge set for me to drink 30 beers over the weekend. I was rubbish at this and only got through 15. Which included 2 whilst waiting for the train home in Manchester. I think I'd have been ok if wine counted.

6. There's a big famous art gallery, The Prado. It's mostly quite old paintings in there rather than more modern ones. What this seemed to equate to was about five hundred paintings of Jesus (many of which featured the poor thing being crucified) and Bosch's Garden of Unearthly Delights, which was a bit smaller than I was expecting. I preferred the Reina Sofia which seems to be mostly 20th century art. I like the Joan Miro stuff. Apparently he's pronounced "Huan" rather than "Joan". Little tip for you there to make you look cleverer than you are.

All in all, it was a good weekend - many thanks to everyone who made it out there with me :-)

Strange Fruit

I did an unusual thing today - I actively took a piece of fruit to work. This was fruit that I had in my house already, that I had bought at the supermarket yesterday. As I left the flat I thought: "Hmmm, it would be nice to have a piece of fruit during the morning today. Luckily, I have some fruit so I shall take a piece with me." And this I did.

It was not a banana, apple, lemon, grapefruit, pomegranate, melon, strawberry, blackberry, raspberry, starfruit, norton, pineapple, kiwi, blueberry or lime.

It was a clementine.

Unfortunately I put it in my drawer and forgot about it. Oh well.

(Some Madrid stuff tomorrow. Probably. Today all I have time for is a mediocre fruit anecdote)

Number ones of my life

I got an excellent late birthday present from Bert - a couple of CDs with all the songs that have been UK number one on my birthday for the last 30 years (ie since I was born). 31 songs in all, here's the list.

1976: Brotherhood of Man - Save our kisses for me
1977: Abba - Knowing me, knowing you
1978: Brian & Michael - Matchstalk men and matchstalk cats and dogs
1979: Art Garfunkel - Bright Eyes
1980: Detroit Spinners - Working my way back to you
1981: Shakin' Stevens - This old house
1982: Goombay Dance Band - Seven tears
1983: David Bowie - Let's dance
1984: Lionel Richie - Hello
1985: Philip Bailey & Phil Collins - Easy lover
1986: Cliff Richard & The Young Ones - Living doll
1987: Ferry Aid - Let it be
1988: Pet Shop Boys - Heart
1989: Madonna - Like a prayer
1990: Madonna - Vogue
1991: Chesney Hawkes - The one and only
1992: Shakespeare's Sister - Stay
1993: Bluebells - Young at heart
1994: Take That - Everything changes
1995: Take That - Back for good
1996: Prodigy - Firestarter
1997: R Kelly - I believe I can fly
1998: Run DMC vs Jason Nevins - It's like that
1999: Mr Oizo - Flat beat
2000: Westlife - Fool again
2001: Emma Bunton - What took you so long
2002: Gareth Gates - Unchained Melody
2003: Room 5 feat. Oliver Cheatham - Make Luv
2004: McFly - 5 colours in her hair
2005: Tony Christie feat. Peter Kay - Is this the way to Amarillo
2006: Gnarls Barkley - Crazy

Now, if I had to pick a favourite from this list I think it would have to be Take That's classic Back for good, one of the finest pop songs of the 90s. The honour of worst song probably goes to Mr Oizo - close call between that and R Kelly. Rubbish.

Overall though, the list isn't too bad given that number ones tend often to be crap. I myself didn't buy any of these as singles and hence can't claim any small part in their subsequent success. But well done to each and every one of them. Except Mr Oizo. And R Kelly.

I'm the King of Spain!

I'm going to Madrid in Spain for the weekend because it was my birthday and I wanted to go somewhere, but not last weekend when it was actually my birthday because it was Easter and I thought it might be busy and I didn't want that. I leave in half an hour and I've just about finished packing - I started aiming to use just hand luggage, then decided I'd need a hold-all as well. But then I rethought and figured that I didn't really need two pairs of trousers in addition to the ones I'm wearing now, so I'm back down to a single rucksack. Other than that, I think I have everything I need.

The only thing I haven't done yet is learn any useful Spanish phrases (apart from "Can I have a beer, please?") but I'm sure I'll get by. In any case, I will have some Spanish speakers with me. They will be able to order any non-beer drinks I want!

Auf wiedersehen!

Different name, same dumb stories

I mentioned very briefly on Monday that York's newspaper, the Evening Press, is actually published in the morning - implying that this was a slightly silly state of affairs. Well it seems that they may have listened to me, as I read today that from next week it's going to have a brand spanking new name. It will be called... The Press. See what they've done? They've removed the word "Evening" to remove any limitations on the time of day they can publish without ridicule.

I feel like I've achieved something.

My Little Bonsai

I got a bonsai tree for my birthday:



It says that I should keep it in a bright place, but out of direct sunlight. And also that I should also water it once a day AND sprinkle the leaves. Frankly it's hard enough to remember to take a shower once a day so I don't know how I'm supposed to look after a tree as well.

And as for sprinkling the leaves, I have no idea how I'm supposed to do that without getting my table all wet. No idea what I'd even use to sprinkle it. A tiny pixie watering can? Actually if I could hire a pixie gardener to look after it all my problems might be solved... Where's my Yellow Pages?

Darn. They're not in it. They'd be between "Pitch and Putt Courses" and "Pizza Deliveries" if they were, but they're not. I can only conclude that there hasn't been much demand for super-diminutive tree-carers in the York area. Well - there is now! If there are any pixies reading, give me a bell if you can help.

Stag Don't

I was that close to phoning up a place yesterday to book myself on to a friend's stag weekend in September and pay the fifty pound deposit. Then I checked the date one last time and had a brief think. I realised that it was the same weekend as the Great North Run. I'm not sure that it would be clever to precede a half marathon with two nights of heavy drinking. No, definitely a bad idea. So I didn't phone and I won't be going :-(

Moral: Don't do half marathons - they really mess up your calendar.

Breaking News

I thought you might like an update on the latest exciting news within the York area. I have a copy of the Evening Press (published every morning!) with me, so I'll summarise the highlights:

1. Two neighbours have had a bit of a spat - a black guy moved in next to a white guy and they didn't really get on. Shades of the old sitcom Love Thy Neighbour here... Another case of reality copying fiction (admittedly with a 30 year gap). The white guy has now been convicted of "using racial language". Possibly it meant racist...?

2. A small ad tells us that someone has lost a blue bike in the Thief Lane area. I expect it was stolen.

3. Complaints against police officers have gone up since last year from 324 to 392. They also received 283 letters of appreciation, presumably from different people. I have neither complained nor appreciated the police today, though I did wonder internally why a few of them seemed to be guarding the Judges' Lodgings this lunchtime.

4. Firefighters near Selby had to put out a fire after men on a farm accidentally tried to put out a "burning rag" using paint thinner rather than water. Not too bright. No mention is made of why they had set fire to a rag in the first place. Since they were near Selby, I can only assume it was boredom.

5. If you're over 50, the monthly over 50s club is on Thursday in Strensall Village Hall, at 2pm. There will be bingo! Over 50s only.

6. Joy-riders stole and trashed a sit-down lawnmower in Hopgrove. Oh the fun that the youth of today have. Why can't they just light rags like their elders do? That's all the fun a man needs.

7. "A national survey has found York residents are the most knowledgeable and devoted in the country when it comes to all things meaty". I can back this up. I often eat meat and can name at least three different kinds.

8. A Mrs Hjort of Crayke has become a York Minster guide. She's taking a group of ten ladies on a tour on the 22 May. Book early to avoid disappointment on that one!

9. York City are still shit.

10. No time for a number 10 today! Sorry!

This is your roving reporter signing off. See ya!

Portrait of a Tortured Rock Star

It's Easter Sunday and I have had no chocolate. I think I will remedy that shortly.

I've just been watching Derren Brown on telly again. He did a thing today where he almost literally crucified Robbie Williams - I assume the symbolism was intentional given the timing. Robbie was taken to some industrial complex, strapped onto a metal frame, arms in the crucifixion posture, and then put into a mild relaxed state (I don't think Jesus had that crutch). Derren then pushed some large metal pins through Robbie's exposed arms, whilst the little pop star recited Three Blind Mice over and over. This actually made for quite uncomfortable viewing. It all seemed very sinister - possibly that combination of industrial decor, torture and children's nursery rhymes.

Robbie seemed unharmed by the whole exercise, though one of his arms was bleeding a bit afterwards. Poor lamb.

Next week: Derren sets fire to James Blunt (maybe)

Happy Birthday to me!

Well, it happened. I turned 30. No bad.

Do you like my subtle badge?



It had lovely flashing LCDs. Sparkly.

I'm all out of tocks

It's like I can hear the clock ticking. Tick. Tick. Tick. The last few ticks come one by one. Then it'll be time. Tick. Tick. Tick.

 

Tick.

 

Farewell, youth.

Back-up time

My evening tonight is going to comprise of: Backing up hard drives! My favourite pastime! I'm so excited by this prospect that I am going to start it now and not write the very long and interesting piece that I otherwise would have done.

Rabbit rabbit rabbit

Yesterday I went running around the back end of the racecourse. It turns out that's where all the little rabbits live in York. Little cute bunny rabbits. Awwww. I think they were enjoying Spring. Rabbits are great.

Bri-i-ight eyeeeees. Burning like fi-errrr....

Wipeout

One of my favourite authors is Stephen Baxter. He writes excellent big-scale hard science fiction. He does however seem to have two obsessions:

1. Destroying the Earth and/or the Human Race
2. Monkeys

Most of his books seem to feature one or both of these themes. Perhaps his crowning achievement on this front was Evolution which not only featured more monkeys than you could shake a banana at, it also documented the eventual extinction of all monkeys, humans and ultimately all life itself.

I think he maybe needs a hug.

I've just read Titan which was written about ten years ago. At the time, it was science fiction. Now, the first half is strictly alternate history, though with some uncanny parallels with actual history such as a second Shuttle disaster on re-entry. The second half of the book is still set in the future (for now). It's a tale of a last ditch attempt to get a mission to Saturn's moon, Titan, to keep the space dream alive and to also investigate evidence from the Cassini probe that there could have been ammonia-based life out there.

Even in this story of human hardship and survival (it's a six year, one way trip to Titan) Baxter can't resist just casually extincting the whole human race (apart from the few guys in space). One page there are billions of humans happily getting on with their lives. The next, Bam, all gone. Just because he can, and because he likes doing it. And possibly because he hadn't managed to shoehorn any monkeys into the book.

If anyone knows of an author who's committed human-race-icide more times than Baxter, I'd love to know.

Afterwards, I had fish and chips

I popped down to Sheffield this weekend to see my parents. Ostensibly, this was so that they could see me for my birthday since they wouldn't be seeing me next weekend. Except that now they are also planning to visit me on Friday too so I feel like I've been slightly conned somehow.

Mother just happened though (what a coincidence!) to be singing in a choral concert last night at Sheffield Cathedral. She also had got hold of a ticket for me (how convenient!) so I was able to go along to watch. I'm not really a fan of choirs and old fashioned music so I apologise if what follows seems a little negative.

Sheffield Cathedral itself is a bit nicer than I was expecting though in common with churches everywhere, the seats were damn uncomfy. It looks relatively new from the outside since it got bombed in World War 2 but inside there is a lot of much older stonework which makes the building feel much more cathedral-like than it might otherwise. It's being done up a bit too at the moment, the main impact of which is that the toilets are currently in portakabins outside the main entrance.

We (we being myself, father and a couple of mum and dad's friends) sat at the back of the room - an ideal place to watch something if there's a danger of falling asleep. The programme was split into two halves. The first was described as "a sequence of sacred motets and organ music". I had no idea what a motet is. And I still don't. But what this bit consisted of was some choral singing, then a bit of organ, then half the choir would wander off into one of the transepts of the cathedral and sing where nobody could see them, leaving the rest of the choir at the front doing nothing at all. This seemed odd to me. I think it probably seemed odd to the non-singing part of the choir too (which included my mother). They'd then come back repeat this whole sequence of events. It sounded nice enough, I suppose, though I was pretty bored by it.

The second half (after a quick interval spent in a local boozer) was a rendition of Schutz's St. Matthew Passion. As far as I have determined, a "passion" in the musical sense is a retelling of one of the gospels set to music. What this then seems to equate to is the composer rewriting the gospel in his own words, but still completely in prose, and then people singing the resulting text. Unlike an actual play where there might be some acting and stuff, here there is also a narrator (called "The Evangelist") who sings out narrative bits and also things like "Jesus said unto him" and "And they answered and said" - things that would be normally unnecessary.

The singing itself is also strange. There are no discernible tunes, motifs or even rhythms. Instead they just sing notes and sometimes go up and sometimes go down, seemingly at random.

Now, it's likely that it all just seems odd to me because I'm unfamiliar with the form and I'm a Philistine and because there were no guitars. But I would be willing to put a small wager that this is genuinely a form of music that is odd, somewhat boring and lacking in anything we now take for granted in music (like a tune). On the plus side, the guy being Jesus had a really good beard, though not in the style that it is generally accepted was worn by Jesus. This one was a bit more Rasputin.

As a second plus point, the passion only lasted for about 50 minutes. I'm told that someone (possibly Bach) did a St Matthew Passion that goes on for over three hours! That might have taken me over the edge.

Muddy Boots

Last weekend my normal boots that I wear all the time got very muddy after I walked across some unnecessary Harrogate grass. I have been too lazy to actually clean them and so I just haven't worn them all week. Until yesterday when I hoped maybe I'd find a puddle or a small amount of rain or something like that - some minor moisture just to wash off the residual mud.

On the way home from the pub last night, it really pissed it down. I got very very wet. Towel-needing wet. But it did sort out my boots. I wonder if they're dry yet...?

And your mind gets dirty...

It's the last Friday of my 20s. I really should dig out that "things I was supposed to do before I'm 30" list. Or possibly start a new one.

Pensions and Disease

Quick Quiz:

Was the most exciting thing that was in the news today:

a) A-Day (implementation of the new simplified pensions regime)
b) The discovery of deadly bird-flu in Scotland
c) The first cars being attached to the Yorkshire Wheel

The answer is of course a) because pensions are very exciting. Oh, I could talk about pensions for hours. I'm not allowed to advise you though. I'm not qualified to do that.

The bird-flu epidemic in Scotland is quite fun. Technically it's maybe not an epidemic yet, since it has only affected one poor mute swan. But give it a few days and we'll all be choking on the floor like people do in 24 all the time when they've inhaled nerve gas (*) and running for our lives as soon as a pigeon turns its menacing gaze upon us.

To think, when I was a kid, everyone thought we'd all die from nuclear war, terrorists, global warming, acid rain or massive meteor impact. In fact, all we should have been worried about was swans. A single swan can start panic and mayhem. The ugly duckling has grown up into a carrier of a dangerous fowl disease.

I'm not scared though. No, not me. I rarely get man-flu so I figure I have to be immune to bird-flu. Birds are much weaker than men and hence so must be their respective flus.


(* quick note to anybody easily scared - bird-flu does not spread quite as quickly as nerve gas does. It's also not quite as deadly. Not quite.)

Split the week

I've had a day off work today - mainly as part of an effort to reduce my outstanding holidays to a level I can carry over to the next year without losing any. I think I've been carrying over the same five days since I started work over eight years ago. I figure I'll use them eventually, as long as they don't have a use-by date like milk does. It would be awful to take a week away and find that your days had gone off. The swimming pool would have gunk on top of it, smell bad and would have to be thrown away. The beach would be all stuck together. And the pretty foreign girls would all have facial warts. Not a good holiday.

Maybe I won't ever take those five days after all. They sound minging.

It's nice being off on a Wednesday though - it breaks up the week into two manageable chunks: A Monday/Tuesday chunk where the world is new and everything will be achieved; and a Thursday/Friday chunk where it's not worth starting or doing anything because it's nearly the weekend.

I've done a few useful things around the flat - a bit of tidying, a bit of washing and a bit of cleaning. There is still more to do, but then there's always more of that to do. I've also read books, strummed guitar, played computer games, ran six miles and learnt to dance the Ballroom Tango. I've eaten crisps, pork pie and pizza. I've seen attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. Etc.

So not a bad day overall.

Second Largest Erection in York

It sounds strange, but there's a huge big wheel being built at the end of my road. The Yorkshire Wheel is due to open on Monday 10th April and may apparently bring a million people to York. Hopefully not all at once.

At around 60m high it should be the second highest thing in the city, beaten only by the Minster.

Since I pass the construction site several times a day, I've been taking a few photos of the build. It's gone up impressively fast.

Sunday Night:


Tuesday Morning:


Tuesday Evening:


It looks like it's all done now except for the attachment of the cars. The whole thing will have taken well under two weeks to construct which is pretty good going.

I'm looking forward to having a go. I'll probably be able to see my flat, though hopefully not into my flat as I wouldn't really want a million strangers doing that. Not without me getting a share of the admission price, at any rate.

Fat Cokes

I just had a can of coke and it made me feel really bloated. It's not fair. It wasn't even proper coke - just diet. Proof positive that diet coke leads to fat people.

Muddy Fields

The final (for now) part of Planet Earth is on in a bit. A fine series indeed. So far it's covered

1. The Poles
2. Mountains
3. Freshwater
4. Caves

And tonight is Deserts. What it hasn't yet covered is Muddy Fields. To remedy this ommission I have indulged in a spot of wildlife photography myself today.

Here are some cute lambs. Ahhh.


And here are some less cute donkeys.

Cooking with sweat

I went back to the funny curry house last night. We found another thing on the menu:



"Sweat Rice". That sounds lovely. To be fair to them, they had gone to all the menus and attempted to overwrite the error in biro, though I think this maybe drew more attention to it.