Comme ci, Comme ca.

Jokes

2004-09-10T23:56:00.000Z

What succeeds?
...
...
...
...
...
A budgie with no beak.

Also, from www.bash.org,

User1 - 67% of all girls are stupid
Girl2 - I belong to the other 13%.

Sigh.

3 years tomorrow

2004-09-09T23:16:00.000Z

The anniversairy of the WTC attacks brings a few painful memories for me. Sept 11th was meant to be a special day - it was the day I'd dreamt about for nearly all my life. I was due to fly out to Western Michigan University in the USA to being a flight training course with British Airways (having got onto their pilot sponsorship programme by the second time of asking).

I'd packed all my bags. It was an hour before I was due to catch the flight from MAN -> LHR, where I'd meet current BA first officers for a drink and meal before catching the transatlantic flight the next morning. Suddenly, the news comes on. A plane has crashed. The WTC is burning. At first, we thought it was a small plane. Two other members of my BA class rang to tell me about the breaking news. Someone realised it was an airliner. My heart leapt a little in my chest... the thought that this was not normal, not a normal accident, not a normal day. Twenty mins later, the second plane hit. I'm ashamed to say that at the time, all I could think was "tell me this won't affect me"...

We set off for MAN airport - me with enough luggage to last the two terms at Michigan. On the radio, every station was talking about the WTC, and the firemans efforts to put out the blaze. Then came the news about the Pentagon. Surreal. It seemed like reality had totally gone out the window. A fourth plane was rumoured to be missing. How many would be involved before the day was out? Was this the start of a new war? [as it happened, yes, it was]

Manchester airport was VERY quiet. None of the usual hussle and bussle was present. Everyone was either on the phone or watching TV. I got to my flight - sitting on the back row (as a BA standby staff member), I talked to the hostess about what they knew. Air traffic control was in chaos... we were delayed for 2 hours before being allowed to take off. I had wanted to sit up front with the flight crew (my would-be colleagues)... not a chance in the climate of that day. As we got to London, the flight crew let us know that US airspace was closed, and UK might follow suit. As it was, we got diverted around the centre of London, before descending on an unusual approach in Heathrow.

I met the first officer mentoring our class in the arrivals hall. She was as numb as everyone else. We went to the pub to meet the other flight crew, but the atmosphere was one of shock, awe, sorrow, and grief. Who could hate so much as to destroy innocent lives?

That night, I remember sleeping on the floor of a stranger's house, watching the TV as endless repeats showing the Pentagon and WTC were shown. We tried to work out what it would mean for my class. At worst, a delay......

The next day, BA arranged for me to fly back to Manchester (without my luggage). One week later, we learnt the class had been 'indefinitely postponed'. Three weeks later, my luggage turned up again. 5 months later, the class was cancelled (our contracts were cancelled also, quoting 'force majeur'), and we were put into a holding pool. After 18 months in that pool, we were almost taken on. Then Gulf War II broke out, and the holding pool was disbanded.

I can still remember going up to the Lake District 5 days after the attacks, and walking as if in a daze, still wondering how my life could've been turned upside down. I still feel a little guilty that I wasn't empathising with the victims - I believe now that it was due to the immediacy of my events - and the fact that I was now completely out of control.

So what got me through that snatching of my dream away from me? 1. God. He is, as ever, my best friend, my guide and my king. 2. My parents, who constantly supported me. 3. My friends, who were always there to talk, and 4. Me... I decided to follow a different dream, and moved to a foreign country (Paris) where I spent a happy 12 months. I'm now back in the UK, in a job I love dealing with commercial aviation, and practicing my flying as a hobby (in small 4 seater aircraft). Maybe one day I'll go back. Flying is still in my blood, and I'd like to believe that some day I'll be found at the sharp end of an Airbus, with a big inane grin on my face as I watch a sunrise over the Alps from 39000 feet. If I do, I will remember the 1000s who, on the same day my dream died, lost a lot more than their dreams. Rest in Peace.

Crime and punishment (or Sin&Win)

2004-08-12T09:27:00.000Z

Damn - I should be a headline writer for the Sun! (Ed: Perhaps not, eh!)

So, two headlines from today:

The latest piece filling the column inches is the story of the convicted rapist (currently serving 'life' for attempted rape) who won the lottery.

Everyone is up in arms that someone who society has decided is evil should be allowed to win something from society. The interesting thing for me here is the relativism at work.

Each newspaper and comment carries a different angle - most saying that the victims should receive the cash (note: if so, should that hold for any other crime? - e.g. if a burglar is released from jail after 5 years, and builds up their own business, should they have to pay proceeds from that business back to the people they emotionally distressed by burgling their houses?).

Some newspapers say that if the guy has done his time, then he has paid his debt to society (a point which is debated by the rape counselling groups, who argue that he hasn't paid his debt to his victims, and indeed probably never could).

My thought: in cases where long-term injury (either emotional, as in rape cases, or physical, as in GBH) is done to the victim, there may be a case for the debt the assailant owes being not only one to society, but also one to the victim. In these cases, prison would only be the first step - some form of compensation post-prison for as long as the injury persists would perhaps redress the balance.

Is that a McDonalds wrapper on the floor? - you're nicked, son!

The other newsworthy item concerns the police's powers of arrest. Currently, they are able to arrest a citizen for a crime that attracts a prison sentence of over 5 years. Obviously, in order to maintain order, this rule has to be frequently broken - therefore, lots of exceptions have been published to help police.

The proposed change allows police to arrest people for any crime committed (such as dropping litter). It then sets down guidelines showing what you cannot arrest people for (i.e. showing when an arrest is appropriate).

As far as I can see, all we're doing here is moving from a negative statute book (i.e. you cannot arrest, except in this case), to a positive statute book (i.e. you can arrest, except in this case). It gives police more authority, and trusts them to use their common sense. And if we can't do that, why are they there at all?

So I sighed when I read the 'civil rights group' Liberty, saying "The broader the powers the police were given, the more they were used in an arbitrary and racially discrimatory manner."

Now, I accept that certain individuals within the police force have let the side down, in the main due to racially motivated actions. However, to tar the entire establishment with the same brush is to denegrate the wonderful service they carry out. Just because one man in Swindon is thinking of blowing up Britain, does not mean we should enclose Swindon in an electric fence to protect the rest of Britain (Ed: not such a bad idea though...)

Not to mention the fact that most 'racially motivated' arrests have been proved to be entirely justifiable - if a white gang is causing trouble, then the police will arrest several white men (sic).

I'm therefore glad when I read the latest Tory manifesto which reads:

"Many people now believe that they are no longer wholly
responsible for their actions. It's someone else's fault, or something else's fault - the environment, society and the government," he said. There was an "ethical quagmire" where "the clear distinction between right and wrong has been lost in sociological mumbo-jumbo and politically correct nonsense", he added.

Huzzah and Hear Hear, says I!

Great people and long-term perspectives

2004-08-11T14:49:00.000Z

Every now and again, I read of people who seem to rise above the morass and humdrum, and actually make a difference to life as we know it... not necessarily for their own benefit. Benjamin Franklin and William Wilberforce are two examples I've recently come across.

It got me thinking - why do people do that? What is there inside us that seems to rebel against the everyday materialism that pervades our every move here in this introspective country?

If we go by societal conditioning, this shouldn't happen. Why should we care about the common good, except where it aids us? Leaving a legacy can't really be the answer - if I live all my life to enhance my memory, it seems to negate the original point of living anyway.

Then there's a second point - why are there accepted principles in life, such as 'the law of the farm' and 'integrity is the best way' etc.

I'm convinced there's something more that leads us in that way. Think about your own life - living it day-by-day, lead around by the nose, looking to gain wealth, recognition, status, love etc. Then once in a while we step back, look at the big picture and the long-term. And our thoughts change accordingly.

Curious, ain't it? Maybe we do have something inside of us, common to every human being, which shouts out in the gentlest of whispers what each of us knows to be true, honest and decent. After all, what is our conscience, if not a moral compass to aid us in our life?

I think the key to changing is the long-term versus short-term thinking. Once our perspectives / paradigms / viewpoints change, then the everyday habits we cultivate change as well. I'm a strong believer in 'as you think, so shall you become'... people's actions betray their thoughts much more often than you think - see Niccolo Machiavelli's 'The Prince'. Equally, and on the opposite side of the coin to Machiavelli's manipulatory use of psychoanalysis, if you can change your thoughts and dreams (your 'vision of the future', if you like), and believe you can get there, quite often you do. Surprising not only others, but often yourself in the process!!

Stream of consciousness...

2004-08-10T12:01:00.000Z

Have you ever tried writing your thoughts? It's quite illuminating if you keep putting them on paper... short form... as they appear in your mind. Why do jammy dodgers have no cream in them, yet they're still more expensive than the cream and jam version? Talk about a brand. Looking forward to doing the MBA. Got to finish the applications though - and sort out my company funding proposals. Are women able to write streams like this? if they're multi-tasking and jumping fom subject to subject, it would probably get quite amusing/ fussy/ complicated (I'll come up with the right word eventually). Must put a space between those slashes, otherwise the line moves down one. Have to practice comedy writing a bit more... comedy writing secrets by Helitzer is good read - only got 30 pages through though - lots of ideas I should try in this blog. Doesn't Helitzer look like Hellmans? Mayo? Nice sandwich today from the new sandwich shop - well, not new, but new for me. Beef and cucumber baguette. Almost got to see the cute gals in my hairdresser as well. Which reminds me of a couple I've met recently elsewhere - must get back to them, and invite them out for coffee. Have i written enough yet, or do I need more? What does this actually read like? Stop thinking about the context, and concentrate on the content. Lots of 'cons' in that last sentence. Con air was a cool film, but not as cool as Super Troopers which I watched last night - funny film. You really need to be able to touch type to do this properly, otherwise you have to stop thinking and type for ages - causes too much of a pause. Should really get back to work again - lunch break is probably over for me now - might work from home this afternoon - mean i can concentrate better. And there's Liverpool football on TV tonight... perhaps Michael Owen is moving on - probably not a bad thing - get Morientes (check spelling on Google) instead of him, and we'd probably be better off - Cisse has the pace.

OK - let's stop there!

Salsa-tastic

2004-08-05T12:08:00.000Z

I LOVE SALSA!

Just had to get that out of my system. A fantastic night at The bar/cafe in Wimbledon with Chris and Jaclyn... things that set it apart:

high energy instruction;
more girls than guys;
progressing quickly to new stuff;
time at end for free dance.

A few (small) negatives:

not enough space on the dance floor (too popular);
no individualised instruction - again, that's not what this class is about, but it would have been nice to get some feedback at some point;
random attitude from a couple of the punters;
wrong start time (1930 advertised, actually 2040)

Overall, 85% for fun, entertainment, and learning new steps/turns etc. I'll certainly go again.

Random fact

Most toilets flush in E-flat.

(courtesy of www.thatwasrandom.com)

Getting the passport done

2004-08-04T11:58:00.000Z

A little while back, I had the distinct pleasure of being able to renew my passport photo - the wee kiddy peering out from under a mid-90s mop of hair could finally be banished, and the new suave Rev unveiled.

Probably like most people when I got into the passport booth, there was the quick check of the hair and teeth, and some shoulder movement to determine which was my best side! The photo's taken, you get to choose the one you like, and everyone's happy.

Apart, it seems from Exhibit A, who decided to flaunt his individualism.

All I can say is: good luck getting past the in-bred American customs and security with that photo. Last time I went there, they nicked: a) my deodorant and b) my computer cable lock (could have been used to strangle someone, they said - yeh, like you, I thought).

Which brings me neatly onto the point about idiotic security practices at the moment... 1. you shall not take anything pointy onto the plane. 2. but you can buy glass bottles from customs. Sometimes I wonder...

And now for something completely different

From the world of aviation:

"ATIS" stands for "Automated Terminal Information Service," which is a recorded message broadcast at most busy airports around the country. ATIS gives pilots the current wind, air traffic, and runway information and each time the information changes, the broadcast is revised, with each revision being assigned the next letter in the phonetic alphabet. This designation is included in the broadcast, which is identified as, "Information Alpha..." Bravo, Charlie, etc.

At ATIS-equipped airports, pilots are required to listen to the recording prior to contacting Approach Control or the tower and must repeat the "Information so-and-so" identifier when they make their initial radio call. Sometimes, the results can be hilarious...

The scenario: it was night over Las Vegas and "Information Hotel" was current on the ATIS. Mooney 33W wasn't too sharp, but he didn't let that stop him from talking to Approach Control.

Approach: "33W, confirm you have 'Hotel.'

33W: "Uhhhmm, we're flying into McCarren International. Uhhhmm, we don't have a hotel room yet."

After that, Approach was laughing too hard to respond. The next several calls went something like this call to United 583 (which didn't make it any easier to stop laughing)...

Approach: "United 583, descend to Flight Level 220."

United 583: "United 583, down to Flight Level 220. We don't have a hotel room, either."

Don't you just hate it when...

2004-08-03T15:39:00.000Z

people don't acknowledge you when you let them out of a side turning - normally BMW or Merc drivers in London (bless em, they're probably too shocked at being let out in the first place);
chav in his/her 1.02l SRi VVTi MFi ii chavmobile cuts you up yet again;
there's two paltry slices of pepperoni on what it marketed as 'a delicious meaty pizza, loaded with toppings';
the British summer is here and gone in 3 days, and particularly when-
you've booked to go flying, and thunderstorms hit just as you get to the plane (grrrr);
your flatmate refuses to use foil, citing environmental protection as the reason (its less bloody environmental to leave all that fat on the grill-pan, bro!);
you realise that the New Year's Resolution to learn jazz piano has been long forgotten - so much so that the keyboard is now covered in 2 inches of dust;
Scaryduck doesn't post one day!

Having got that off my chest, I shall now relax. Number 5 bugged me the most - planning a flight is a laborious task sometimes, and I'd spent a while working out a route round the Isle of Wight and along the South Coast (whilst dodging Heathrow and Gatwick, who vehemently dislike small a/c coming anywhere near their playpen). Yet here I sit, while outside several small gods fling round furniture at each other, and see if they can get lightning to obliterate Staines or Hounslow. Good luck to them as well.

Le Tour de Provence

2004-07-31T22:18:00.000Z

Deciding what to do for a holiday is always a tricky task... you know you need time off work, but what to do, and will you enjoy it? This year, in a fit (of unsurpassed enthusiasm, and more than a little optimism), I decided to head down to the South of France, saddle up, and cycle 350km. I should mention this was a holiday, so it was never going to be Tour de France-esque. But pleasant company, amazing scenery, some scorching weather and the satisfaction of seeing my waistline decline meant that I've returned to the UK refreshed and happy.

Whilst down there, we had the opportunity to sample le Festival du Theatre en Avignon - staying on the opposite bank of the Rhone to Avignon meant we drank there most nights. The festival is a celebration of theatre and arts, and is titled 'theatre pour tous' (namely, anyone can watch it, and anyone can take part). Some superb contemporary performances on the streets (some plays, some dance) and the normal smattering of street comedians ensured we were always entertained on our sorties.

Trips to Chateauneuf de Pape, Orange, Bourbon, Pont du Gard, Fontaine de Vaucluse and an Abbaye were on the itinerary - big shout out to Oakhall who organised it all - for my group, it pretty much went off without a hitch (I do know of one group that took a wrong turning and ended up on a motorway!).

Memories to savour (in no particular order):

Battling into the wind up another long hill, and the satisfaction of hitting the top;
The Ballad of the Bank Robber (a fantastic song about how you should never stop in El Paso for gas);
Kayaking under the Pont du Gard
Quote of the week: "So what's the French for pizza then?"
The Ecuadorian Indians singing in the centre-ville
Hoe gaan Dit? (Afrikaans for How are you) - and the Saffa physios on the trip cycling behind me telling me my foot was in the wrong position and I'd have pro forma trouble with my psiaptic nerve endings (or something!). Superb people - good friends.

(Knight)rider

2004-07-05T16:15:00.000Z

So after a encouragingly quick morning meeting , I decided to take advantage of the weatherman's incompetence (thunderstorms? - where?), and go for a lap of Richmond Park in the sun.

Cycling along, it all felt a little hard. Naturally, I put it down to my (lack of) fitness... 2 weeks abroad has meant that the usual service has been interrupted, and boy my body felt it (with salsa later and squash tomorrow, Tuesday night will not be pleasant!).

It was when I got to the downhill section (Richmond Hill -> Roehampton, if you know the park) that I realised everything was not as it ought to be. A quick examination revealed a stuck back brake, and a dislocated spring. Doh. Could I BE any further from my house?!

I'm guessing you'll know the feeling, as you struggle with something, and the population of London goes sailing on by - oblivious to the struggle. I found myself getting more worked up by the fact that no-one stopped, than by the errant spring on my bike. Would I have stopped? - I hope so, but what depresses me is that I can't say for sure. Probably depends on who was in trouble... if they looked like 'the wrong sort', chances are I'd be in the vast majority. Sigh.

Anyhow, back to today - Wonder of Wonders (seriously, this would qualify for the 9th Wonder of the World), a voice pipes up behind me, "Need a hand?" Hallelujah! London hasn't yet lost all its civility, its community. An older guy ("just going on for 60", he said in proud hushed tones as we cycled together later) pulls up next to me, inspecting my bike with a weathered eye. Pulling all kinds of tools from his saddle-bag, he proceeds to get me up and running again.

I cycled next to this complete stranger round the rest of the park - strangely, I crunched up hills I normally have trouble with. I put it down to having ridden with my brake on for half a lap - the freedom of free-turning wheels meant I was shifting. We swapped life stories (he used to work for Guinness Book of World Records, in case you're interested) and went our separate ways at the end. A certifiable knight of the road. Or cycle path.

Breaking up

A little bit of humour from Larry Miller

I just broke up with someone, and the last thing she said to me was, "You'll never find anyone like me again."
And I was thinking: I should hope not. Isn't that why we break up with people? If I don't want you, why would I want somebody just like you? I mean, does anybody end a bad relationship and say, "By the way, do you have a twin?"

So true...

High jinks in housing

2004-07-01T10:27:00.001Z

Yesterday's headline in the Daily Express read: HOUSING PRICES: DON'T PANIC!!

Strangely, this wasn't the opinion of the newspaper... instead, the report (and story) was a virtual word-for-word account from Nationwide. Can anyone say "Free advertising for the mortgage providers"?

Let's take a look at the evidence for this:

1. Nationwide and Halifax remain optimistic about the housing market, say the papers.
2. Nationwide and Halifax stand to lose out commercially if housing prices do fall, or if there is a panic.
3. Nationwide and Halifax are therefore conveniently touting the line that will most benefit them commercially.
4. In direct constrast to point 1, Nationwide and Halifax have just laid off 1000s of workers.

You do the maths!! Time to hunker down, wait for interest rates to rise, prices to fall/stagnate, and the lunacy of buy-to-let bubbles to disappear.

Roll on the crash...

(PS A little bearish perhaps, but I am a biased non-home owner!!)

Tambourines and Trumpets in Toulouse

2004-06-30T09:40:00.000Z

Once every year, as the summer solstice comes around and things get a little nutty, most of the population of a corner of SE France turn out onto the street in expectation of a 'tres bon ferie'. This year, I had the good fortune of being around on the night it all happened (a Monday night, but they didn't let that stop them).

Before the main event...
For once, watching England play football wasn't akin to having your balls slapped into a vice and squeezed... 4-2 against Croatia did very nicely indeed. Biggest cheer of the night went up when Switzerland scored though (imagine 100 Englishmen chanting "Allez les Suisse, allez les Suisse" - funny as hell).

On the street
So outside the pub, and the English are getting twitchy. Not because France have won. And not (for once) because the locals are threatening to call in reinforcements to protect themselves against drunk chanteurs! Nope, it's because for one night only, the English are being outperformed in volume, excitement and stupid outfits. The football crowd slinks away...

In the throng
...and after a quick change in my hotel, its out into the centre of town (approx 11pm). Crowds of people as far as the eye can see... 18 different beats coming at you from bands, DJs, drummers and processions. Everyone holding a drink, and dressed to impress at the French fete extraordinaire.

The basic premise is: get yourself into a band. Find a mate with an electrical connection point somewhere in the centre of Toulouse. Hook up, set up a stage etc. Play the night away, to the company of 1000s of onlookers.

Every street has a band hunkering down one side; looking slightly incongruous outside the Cathedral is a Metallica like outfit. Complete with sheep (dunno why). On the opposite side of the church is a nuns sing-a-long. And obligatory children's choir. Think "sound of music" and you'll get the general idea.

We lost one member of our group to the music - he met a random group of French people, and disappeared into the masses... allegedly turning up again at 2.30am. The rest of us wandered through the streets, occassionally pausing to listen to a particularly good group (wasn't that often - the general standard was pretty dire!). The most enjoyable bit were the processions - marching percussion bands, generally moving to Samba and Salsa beats. If I get my hosting up and running, I'll upload a movie clip of it all.

I'd definitely recommend being in France for the 21st June. Un bonne nuit. Ciao.

Massaging the calves...

2004-06-29T08:01:00.000Z

No, this won't be another of those (pointless) airline missives on the dangers of DVT, and how we'll all end up dead if we don't wiggle our toes on any flight over 3 hours. Rather, it is a discussion on the finest beef in the world (according the marketeers, who may be slightly biased!) - Chateaubriand de Kobe.

The life of this high society princess of the bovine world starts in Japan, in the region of Tajima. It pops into the world as a member of a herd with less than 10 cows. And boy, the silver spoon starts early. No rusks for this wee count of cowdom; its diet is better regulated than the average Californians. Every day, the beastie gets a massage to help soothe its stress and worries.

Aside 1: How the hell can a cow get stressed?! - you stand, munch, moo, mount and sleep. Not a hard life...

The mellow fellow grows up in this pampered culture, getting fed slightly more towards the end of its (short) life. Now for the best bit: beer is on the menu!!! As we humans know, beer is one of the fastest ways to add a few pounds, so I reckon the Japanese herders are onto something there.

Aside 2: Slight edit to the beer point above: apparently, the beer itself isn't the fattener. It's actually used during the hot and humid summer months to stimulate the cow's appetite - so there you go!

Not content with a healthy brew for our friend, the Japanese also feed it with Sake, the national tipple! In fact, in a nod to some obscure Japanese fantasy, they actually brush the calf with the sake. Allegedly to soften the skin. I have my doubts.

So what does all this pampering do to the final product? Well, as you may have guessed, its extremely tender. And marbled (in fact, its so marbled with fat that it is known as white steak in certain areas). It costs a bomb (limited supply), and tastes like nothing else (ed:certainly nothing like beef!). So there you have it: Eating Kobe Beef - number 51 on "Things to do in my Life".

Tip Number 425 - How to find a wife

2004-06-19T13:54:00.000Z

In the background fuzz of early morning radio, something reasonably interesting appeared last week... allegedly, someone did a survey on the London Underground, and found that the District Line is the best for finding a potential partner. The Bakerloo came last.

To which three thoughts shot through my head...
a) Who did the survey? - and why?
b) Why is the District Line particularly flirty friendly?
c) How does anyone get round the first unwritten rule of the Tube - "Thou shalt not speak to anyone"?

Well, time has now passed and I feel ready to pass on the answers my tortured mind has produced to these questions.

The first question seems like a no-brainer. Any average (and therefore desperate) London male is always looking for a chance to put the odds in his favour. This particular hero has merely taken action and decided the time spent on the morning crawl, normally devoted to nasal excavations and listening to SMS message notifications, could better be put to use in his own version of speed dating. A new set every morning and evening... what could be better?

As for the second question, a review of the Tube Map yields some likely answers. I mean, with Richmond, Wimbledon, Sloane Square, Hammersmith and the City all on the same line, is there any wonder that some seriously classy ladies happen to frequent the green line? Also, it's a very long line, giving our hero lots of time to a) make eye contact, then drop his head, then nervously look again and b) pluck up the courage to say hi.
Quite why the Bakerloo suffers, I'm not so sure... maybe North West London is where the mingers congregate?

The third question is a tough one. The unwritten rules have the Force on their side, and it most likely takes Jedi-type strength to negotiate them. Possibly, and due to the high likelihood that the two protoganonists are Brits, communication is started via a common moan - favourites I've heard are:
1. Late trains
2. Slow trains
3. The Weather
4. SMS notifications on steroids

Answers on a postcard....

Favourite quotes

2004-06-18T11:44:00.000Z

Well, it seems like it's the best thing to put in here: if I have to look at it every morning on my wall then, by all that is wide in girth and smells of fish, you will suffer the same.

So without further ado, here's a mini selection of oratory delicacies, tasting better than those little dim-sum things you get in the Chinese.

1. Do you want to live life each day, or merely exist?

2. Be a Force of Nature, instead of a feverish selfish little clod full of ailments and grievances, complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy.

3. It is better to light one candle, than to continue cursing the darkness.

4. The world is divided into people who do things, and people who get the credit. Try, if you can, to belong to the first class - there's far less competition.

Do you reckon there's a theme developing there?! I wouldn't worry yet though - they might be on my wall, but they seem to have the same effect as a fly fart in a hurricane, so there's no chance of this blog becoming a self-help class of Sigmund Freud proportions.

Helloooooooo

2004-06-18T11:22:00.000Z

Is anyone out there?Cue the bouncing of echoes off mountains and hills, and the little desert tumbleweed bouncing merrily along between arid paths and cactii.

So this is my attempt to leave my mark on the internet... something which til now I've studiously avoided. Is this blogspot thingy going to come to anything? Or will I disappear without a trace after two weeks? Who knows? Who cares!

Hopefully as time goes on I'll get better. Bear with it (actually, if you're reading this as an archive, I'd skip ahead to 2005 if I were you - cos this year will be crap - guaranteed).