And while I am slagging off rubbish pop singers, here's my current favourite joke:
First the dodo died. Then Dodi died. Then Di died. And Dando died... Dido must be shitting herself.
Thanks to Colin and Fergus at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival.
Thursday, October 28, 2004
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
There's nothing wrong with me
The following are lyrics from the new Finn Brothers Album:
Let the sound come in
From the world outside
You just keep on singing
When they tell you filthy lies
All the mud in this town
All the dirt in this world
None of it sticks on you
(You shake it off)
Cause you're better than that
And you don't need it
There's nothing wrong with you
As my friend Rhys points out, there's something quintessentially Kiwi about singing a song that declares there's nothing wrong with you. Alanis Morissette, these boys aren't. Which reminds me of my favourite Alanis Morrisette story by an Irish Comedian by the name of Ed Byrne who enjoyed taking the piss out of her song Ironic. For example, when she sings 'It's like rain on wedding day', he retorts that that is just plain unlucky, it might be ironic if you're marrying a weatherman... After pulling apart several verses of the song, someone in the audience, who was obviously an Alanis fan shouted out "it's a metaphor". Quick as a flash, Byrne responded, "it's 'like' and 'as', it's a fucking simile".
Let the sound come in
From the world outside
You just keep on singing
When they tell you filthy lies
All the mud in this town
All the dirt in this world
None of it sticks on you
(You shake it off)
Cause you're better than that
And you don't need it
There's nothing wrong with you
As my friend Rhys points out, there's something quintessentially Kiwi about singing a song that declares there's nothing wrong with you. Alanis Morissette, these boys aren't. Which reminds me of my favourite Alanis Morrisette story by an Irish Comedian by the name of Ed Byrne who enjoyed taking the piss out of her song Ironic. For example, when she sings 'It's like rain on wedding day', he retorts that that is just plain unlucky, it might be ironic if you're marrying a weatherman... After pulling apart several verses of the song, someone in the audience, who was obviously an Alanis fan shouted out "it's a metaphor". Quick as a flash, Byrne responded, "it's 'like' and 'as', it's a fucking simile".
Tuesday, October 26, 2004
Itocracy
Itocracy. Government by the IT department.
I don't like to rant about things I don't like. Taylor Mali says I shouldn't.
In my job I teach people how to use the fine software made by the company I work for and I also answer techincal questions about it. Increasingly I have noticed that a lot of British companies are severely restricting how much their staff can access their computers. Many staff cannot see or write to their C drives. Most cannot receive executable files, pictures etc. This is a vital part of the support that I offer as it helps solve the problems they are having. The reason that users cannot see or write to their C drives is about a lack of trust that the management have in their staff to be honest with their time. I also think that a part of it is how IT departments here justify their existence. They've got to be seen doing something.
And because they've got to be seen doing something, they effectively create problems for the user by limiting what they can do. Thus the IT department can look busy by being seen to fix the problem, when really, the user should be able to do everything themselves.
Don't get me wrong, IT people do provide a valuable service, but it's important for them to realise that they provide support to the people who bring in their wages. I would like to point out that in the case of my company, the IT person and management are complete stars, and I have complete freedom. And then there was that IT friend of mine in NZ by the name of Leigh. She was great. And lovely... Yep, feeling the need to acknowledge the good IT people out there. I guess I'm just grumbling about the times that common sense is diverted in the name of being seen to be doing something.
An ideal Itocracy is one where we benefit from the all the efficiencies that increased computing power provides, rather than the one we have here, where what we gain in processing power we lose in impotence.
I don't like to rant about things I don't like. Taylor Mali says I shouldn't.
In my job I teach people how to use the fine software made by the company I work for and I also answer techincal questions about it. Increasingly I have noticed that a lot of British companies are severely restricting how much their staff can access their computers. Many staff cannot see or write to their C drives. Most cannot receive executable files, pictures etc. This is a vital part of the support that I offer as it helps solve the problems they are having. The reason that users cannot see or write to their C drives is about a lack of trust that the management have in their staff to be honest with their time. I also think that a part of it is how IT departments here justify their existence. They've got to be seen doing something.
And because they've got to be seen doing something, they effectively create problems for the user by limiting what they can do. Thus the IT department can look busy by being seen to fix the problem, when really, the user should be able to do everything themselves.
Don't get me wrong, IT people do provide a valuable service, but it's important for them to realise that they provide support to the people who bring in their wages. I would like to point out that in the case of my company, the IT person and management are complete stars, and I have complete freedom. And then there was that IT friend of mine in NZ by the name of Leigh. She was great. And lovely... Yep, feeling the need to acknowledge the good IT people out there. I guess I'm just grumbling about the times that common sense is diverted in the name of being seen to be doing something.
An ideal Itocracy is one where we benefit from the all the efficiencies that increased computing power provides, rather than the one we have here, where what we gain in processing power we lose in impotence.
Shameless Promotion
Due to two clubs dropping out of the Oxfordshire Cherwell Cricket League, the Wallingford Cricket Club second eleven has been promoted to the giddy heights of Division Eight. Which has a prompted some cynical bugger to observe that it's the first time in living memory that the seconds can be demoted. Not the ideal way to get promoted, but I don't give a toss. It's nothing less than we deserved for a fine season.
And for some reason, the author of this blog got given the WCC clubman of the year award. So there is a big trophy sitting on my shelf. Personally, I think the first eleven captain should have got it. I'm sorry, Warren, you should have got it.
I've done the decent thing and filled the trophy with Maltesers. Now when my friends lock themselves out of the house, they can have a lucky dip. And bask in my, um, glory.
And for some reason, the author of this blog got given the WCC clubman of the year award. So there is a big trophy sitting on my shelf. Personally, I think the first eleven captain should have got it. I'm sorry, Warren, you should have got it.
I've done the decent thing and filled the trophy with Maltesers. Now when my friends lock themselves out of the house, they can have a lucky dip. And bask in my, um, glory.
Monday, October 25, 2004
Give me back the Bloody Spoon
Be warned, very muddled and somewhat naive/in process thoughts follow.
Growing up I was always a bit of a conservative optimist. I had faith in the police, I had faith that my government was about looking after my interests, although not always at the expense of others, the glass ceiling didn't really exist, and that change was not necessarily a good thing. Maybe this is because I am white, male and middle class. And in theory, there was no limit to what I could achieve. Don't get me wrong, I regard being white, male and middle class as something positive and I am not ashamed of my roots. I am proud of who I am and where I come from, but I am becoming aware of how much my origins have coloured my view of my world. Turning thirty is a bit late to do this, but better late than never...
To some extent, I have to believe that some of this is still true. I believe that human nature is enduring and that most people will, in times of trial, act for the best of all of us. I have to believe this as to believe otherwise it gets a little too scary.
Somewhere in the late nineties I lost much of the conservative streak. I think a lot of it was due to being at Cityside Baptist Church with such friends as Murray Sheard, Simon Manning, Malcolm McKinley, Sarah and Craig O'Brien amongst others. I'm not sure where the rest of it went.
Living in Britain, there is no doubt in my mind which way the majority of us would vote if we could vote in Tuesdays election. We'd be voting for John Kerry and there's no doubt that George Bush is the devil incarnate. I watched a television program tonight that was presented by John Snow, a senior journalist at Channel 4 in the UK. The gist of the program was that it's money that buys the White House, rather than manifesto, personality, integrity... There's an element of 'No shit, Sherlock' in that thesis. Sure, the other things help, but if you can get a lot of money, you can make yourself look better, or, more importantly, make your opponent look bad. Watching the program prompted a few responses from me. There was a certain amount of dismay, and 'I knew it!', but at the minute, the two most enduring responses are as follows:
Firstly, it's a free market, so if I have money, there's no reason that I can't get on in this action. Which in return prompted the response of 'just how free is it'. Sure, I believe that if you have the drive, the creativity, the ingenuity etc, you can make it rich. But I think at the moment there are two fundamental flaws in that idea. The first flaw is that there is the base assumption that we all sunscribe to the doctrine ofprosperity, or the great american dream. The second flaw is that I don't believe that the market is entirely free. I am beginning to think that those with the most money are trying to control the market and limit entry into it. Witness Microsoft and it's approach to Netscape etc. However, I am willing to counter this my using the same industry to demonstrate it's not entirely closed. The amazing growth in dot coms etc made a lot of new rich people (as well as a lot of very rich and then very poor people). So the market can be entered into by 'common people'. I'm not an economist, and I wonder if it hasn't always been like this, from the building of the British rail network and East India Company to the telecommunication industry today. Ian, if you're out there, you got a Masters in Finance, help me out here!
Secondly, I started to wonder how exposed I am to liberal media and reporting in the UK. I am a Gaurdian (the spelling is an in joke) reader, and a BBC watcher. The BBC getting the nickname of Baghdad Broadcasting Corporation during the second Gulf War because they were percieved as being anti-american, and I will avoid the Telegraph and Mail at all costs. And then we start getting into the whole problem of what is truth, and where is the spoon and then I feel the need for a lie down. Post modernism be damned, all I want is to get an objective viewpoint and that seems impossible!
To borrow a song title from eighties christian songwriter and satirist, Steve Taylor, it's harder to be liberal than not to.
And then it turns out that no senator in history has raised as much money for his election campaigns as John Kerry.
Growing up I was always a bit of a conservative optimist. I had faith in the police, I had faith that my government was about looking after my interests, although not always at the expense of others, the glass ceiling didn't really exist, and that change was not necessarily a good thing. Maybe this is because I am white, male and middle class. And in theory, there was no limit to what I could achieve. Don't get me wrong, I regard being white, male and middle class as something positive and I am not ashamed of my roots. I am proud of who I am and where I come from, but I am becoming aware of how much my origins have coloured my view of my world. Turning thirty is a bit late to do this, but better late than never...
To some extent, I have to believe that some of this is still true. I believe that human nature is enduring and that most people will, in times of trial, act for the best of all of us. I have to believe this as to believe otherwise it gets a little too scary.
Somewhere in the late nineties I lost much of the conservative streak. I think a lot of it was due to being at Cityside Baptist Church with such friends as Murray Sheard, Simon Manning, Malcolm McKinley, Sarah and Craig O'Brien amongst others. I'm not sure where the rest of it went.
Living in Britain, there is no doubt in my mind which way the majority of us would vote if we could vote in Tuesdays election. We'd be voting for John Kerry and there's no doubt that George Bush is the devil incarnate. I watched a television program tonight that was presented by John Snow, a senior journalist at Channel 4 in the UK. The gist of the program was that it's money that buys the White House, rather than manifesto, personality, integrity... There's an element of 'No shit, Sherlock' in that thesis. Sure, the other things help, but if you can get a lot of money, you can make yourself look better, or, more importantly, make your opponent look bad. Watching the program prompted a few responses from me. There was a certain amount of dismay, and 'I knew it!', but at the minute, the two most enduring responses are as follows:
Firstly, it's a free market, so if I have money, there's no reason that I can't get on in this action. Which in return prompted the response of 'just how free is it'. Sure, I believe that if you have the drive, the creativity, the ingenuity etc, you can make it rich. But I think at the moment there are two fundamental flaws in that idea. The first flaw is that there is the base assumption that we all sunscribe to the doctrine ofprosperity, or the great american dream. The second flaw is that I don't believe that the market is entirely free. I am beginning to think that those with the most money are trying to control the market and limit entry into it. Witness Microsoft and it's approach to Netscape etc. However, I am willing to counter this my using the same industry to demonstrate it's not entirely closed. The amazing growth in dot coms etc made a lot of new rich people (as well as a lot of very rich and then very poor people). So the market can be entered into by 'common people'. I'm not an economist, and I wonder if it hasn't always been like this, from the building of the British rail network and East India Company to the telecommunication industry today. Ian, if you're out there, you got a Masters in Finance, help me out here!
Secondly, I started to wonder how exposed I am to liberal media and reporting in the UK. I am a Gaurdian (the spelling is an in joke) reader, and a BBC watcher. The BBC getting the nickname of Baghdad Broadcasting Corporation during the second Gulf War because they were percieved as being anti-american, and I will avoid the Telegraph and Mail at all costs. And then we start getting into the whole problem of what is truth, and where is the spoon and then I feel the need for a lie down. Post modernism be damned, all I want is to get an objective viewpoint and that seems impossible!
To borrow a song title from eighties christian songwriter and satirist, Steve Taylor, it's harder to be liberal than not to.
And then it turns out that no senator in history has raised as much money for his election campaigns as John Kerry.
Driving home in underwear
There is a white horse in Uffington. Uffington is about 30 miles from Oxford and the horse is about three thousand years old. I went to see it yesterday with some friends. The black skies on the way out should have been something of a portent that perhaps going for a walk in the english countryside was perhaps not the wisest thing. (Incidentially, there was a red sky this morning. Something about a 'shepherd's warning'. Or, something that I've never really got, according to Legolas, 'blood was spilt this night'. There might have been a red sky yesterday morning but I didn't wake up till 10.30, so I would have missed it).
From the carpark to the white horse is about a mile of very exposed hilside path. We reached the horse at which point the worst rainstorm that I have been caught in enveloped me. This was the sort of rain that physically hurt. It was like being bashed with hailstones, except there was none. Normally I would bite the bullet and just accept that I am getting wet and there is nought I can do about it, and then run around in the rain but this went way beyond that.
I got to the car and the thought of sitting in wet trousers for 45 minutes didn't really appeal, so we stripped to underwear and set off home. If we'd had an accident, I think there might have been some explaining to do.
I never saw the white horse.
From the carpark to the white horse is about a mile of very exposed hilside path. We reached the horse at which point the worst rainstorm that I have been caught in enveloped me. This was the sort of rain that physically hurt. It was like being bashed with hailstones, except there was none. Normally I would bite the bullet and just accept that I am getting wet and there is nought I can do about it, and then run around in the rain but this went way beyond that.
I got to the car and the thought of sitting in wet trousers for 45 minutes didn't really appeal, so we stripped to underwear and set off home. If we'd had an accident, I think there might have been some explaining to do.
I never saw the white horse.
Saturday, October 23, 2004
I think I'm close to being a Stalker
Taylor Mali is performing in Prague in January. He is playing on a Tuesday night and I am thinking that I am sure (is that sounding like I don't know that I am sure) that I am going to take some time off and see him perform. He's a great guy and he doesn't come to this part of the world very often. Do I have an addiction problem, and am I stalking him?
In case you doubt me I wrote to him once and asked for one of his poems. He didn't have it, so I spent an hour and a half transcribing it and then I sent it back to him.
In case you doubt me I wrote to him once and asked for one of his poems. He didn't have it, so I spent an hour and a half transcribing it and then I sent it back to him.
Maltesers
When you buy a bag of Maltesers it's good to not eat them all at once. You never know when your neighbour will lock herself out of her house and want to come in to yours to stay dry. And it's good to be able to offer them Maltesers to make a bad day better.
Thursday, September 23, 2004
Softly Softly
I share an office with five other people, three of whom are men. I also have lots of other colleagues who visit our office most of whom are men. Why must the men in my office talk so loudly? Maybe it's something to do with the need to sound important. The louder we speak, the more important we are. Women are less guilty of this than men. And my colleague Tom is completely innocent of this.
People should be aware that I am more likely to be annoyed by loud mouthed people than softly spoken ones. And consequently am less likely to want to listen to them.
There's just not enough soft-spoken people in my world.
People should be aware that I am more likely to be annoyed by loud mouthed people than softly spoken ones. And consequently am less likely to want to listen to them.
There's just not enough soft-spoken people in my world.
Friday, September 10, 2004
Unethical Dentistry
I've just come back from the dentist. Another filling to come. This pisses me off, and I told him so. I pay £23 every six months to see him, I also pay £30 for a dental hygenists appointment at the same time. Under their advice I am the owner of an electric toothbrush, and I take good care of my gums and my plate. And Yet... Everytime I see him I have to make another appointment to have a filling. Everytime. I've seen him four times and I have four new fillings. As I said, everytime. I don't trust him anymore. I did forget my appointment earlier in the week (it was rearranged without drama ahead of time) but I think he decided to make me pay for my amnesia. Also his suction machine is broken and I think he is looking for patients to fund a new one.
There should be standards. I'm thinking of changing dentists.
There should be standards. I'm thinking of changing dentists.
Thursday, September 09, 2004
Vulnerability
I have no problem with expressing some of my most intimate thoughts in this medium. Well maybe, I had no problem with that. I am happy in wearing my heart on my sleeve. About the only question I have had is what responses the readers of this have. But seeing as I have no idea who reads this, I have decided to go with the risk and publish what I feel. And if anybody is reading this, then they can respond in their own way. But I understand that there are different approaches to this. nna has some thoughts on this. Hence the past tense above. And I have to admit they require processing. Thoughts on the back of an envelope please.
But to demonstrate my openess to the world, this little puppy needs a whizz. That might have something to do with the previous blog...
But to demonstrate my openess to the world, this little puppy needs a whizz. That might have something to do with the previous blog...
I might have been drunk when I wrote this
Once upon a time I wrote an essay for an English paper. Part way through printing it my printer failed and I was forced to write the bulk of it in pen. After railing against the printer I wrote out the rest of the essay, which prompted the marker to write at the bottom "You must have been drunk when you wrote this, Mr Body". This remains my favourite piece of feedback about anything, ever.
I was sober at the time
However I might have been just a little bit tipsy when I wrote this. I certainly feel that way. It's the last hot day of the summer, I have spent the best part of the day teaching a (rather lovely, it has to be said) Australian (and that's not an oxymoron) how to use the software that my company panders and then rest of the lovely day driving back from Shrewsbury where the aforementioned Australian works. As a reward for spending the day working I have consumed two large cans of Red Stripe Jamaican lager in quick succession. What problem??
It is good to be back in Oxford, but it was even better to spend time in Edinburgh. Not that I am sad to be home, but on the way to Shrewsbury I went to Edinburgh. Those of you with any knowledge of UK geography are now screaming "what the hell?", but I did also have to go to Glasgow.
I used to live in Edinburgh. I chose to live there because my friends Craig and Sarah lived there. And I wanted to see them again. They have now gone home. Splitters! When I arrived in Edinburgh they had been there about six months and already made friends with a bunch of people, who promptly became my friends. Anyways, Craig and Sarah went home about a year ago and the last time I went to Edinburgh after they had left it felt a bit weird as they had gone, and it felt like Edinburgh held little for me anymore. Last weekend was the first time I had visited Edinburgh since then. What a fool! I should have gone back a lot earlier. I was only there for twenty-four hours, but in that time I had the joy of catching up with three (ohmygod, how high?) quality individuals, by the name of Wendy, Ruth and Rebekah, and meeting another lovely Australian (see my earlier comment about oxymorons). I was reminded about the value of those around me, and the warmth of feeling I felt and dispensed was altogether overwhelming. It's funny, but as much and as desperately as I miss them, it has left me with the rather soothing feeling of knowing just how is out there, and it makes my world a much better place. To have people you love and who love you in New Zealand, Oxford, Edinburgh, London, Dallas... what more could one ask for?
But then, I might have been drunk when I wrote this...
I was sober at the time
However I might have been just a little bit tipsy when I wrote this. I certainly feel that way. It's the last hot day of the summer, I have spent the best part of the day teaching a (rather lovely, it has to be said) Australian (and that's not an oxymoron) how to use the software that my company panders and then rest of the lovely day driving back from Shrewsbury where the aforementioned Australian works. As a reward for spending the day working I have consumed two large cans of Red Stripe Jamaican lager in quick succession. What problem??
It is good to be back in Oxford, but it was even better to spend time in Edinburgh. Not that I am sad to be home, but on the way to Shrewsbury I went to Edinburgh. Those of you with any knowledge of UK geography are now screaming "what the hell?", but I did also have to go to Glasgow.
I used to live in Edinburgh. I chose to live there because my friends Craig and Sarah lived there. And I wanted to see them again. They have now gone home. Splitters! When I arrived in Edinburgh they had been there about six months and already made friends with a bunch of people, who promptly became my friends. Anyways, Craig and Sarah went home about a year ago and the last time I went to Edinburgh after they had left it felt a bit weird as they had gone, and it felt like Edinburgh held little for me anymore. Last weekend was the first time I had visited Edinburgh since then. What a fool! I should have gone back a lot earlier. I was only there for twenty-four hours, but in that time I had the joy of catching up with three (ohmygod, how high?) quality individuals, by the name of Wendy, Ruth and Rebekah, and meeting another lovely Australian (see my earlier comment about oxymorons). I was reminded about the value of those around me, and the warmth of feeling I felt and dispensed was altogether overwhelming. It's funny, but as much and as desperately as I miss them, it has left me with the rather soothing feeling of knowing just how is out there, and it makes my world a much better place. To have people you love and who love you in New Zealand, Oxford, Edinburgh, London, Dallas... what more could one ask for?
But then, I might have been drunk when I wrote this...
Sunday, September 05, 2004
A Warm Glow
It's over. The Wallingford second eleven will finish 5th in division nine. Last year we finished 16th. Today we put Princes Risborough to the sword, as we whacked 239, and then bowled them out 105. They were rubbish, we were very good.
To round off the evening I had the pleasure of watching the bulk of the club get themselves completely trolleyed, smashed, mashed, mothered, and just plain pissed. It's an interesting occupation being the sole sober person in the room. Next time round, someone else can drive home.
Still, I don't mind. I have the warm glow of smug satisfaction for a job well done.
To round off the evening I had the pleasure of watching the bulk of the club get themselves completely trolleyed, smashed, mashed, mothered, and just plain pissed. It's an interesting occupation being the sole sober person in the room. Next time round, someone else can drive home.
Still, I don't mind. I have the warm glow of smug satisfaction for a job well done.
Friday, September 03, 2004
A song about poo by some kittens
I know I should have grown up by now, but I do like cats and I do like poo jokes. Turn the sound up when you click here
Friends
I have just had the priviledge of having dinner with Mark Pierson. Mark is my friend from Auckland/Melbourne and used to be my pastor at Cityside Baptist Church in Auckland. He is in Oxford to give a course on Alternative Worship. Mark is a Great Guy. He also came along to a hOME meeting with me. It was under the guise of checking out my friends for my parents and to make sure I hadn't joined a cult. So we didn't do any chicken slaying rituals that night.
It is good to have ones friends about. It's a tricky thing living on the Other Side of the World from where one comes from. I worry that I don't have enough contact with my friends and family back home. But I am in that catch 22 situation in that if I go home, I will miss my friends here, so it's nice when they come to you.
(I will go home for a visit if someone's got money for my airfare!!)
It is good to have ones friends about. It's a tricky thing living on the Other Side of the World from where one comes from. I worry that I don't have enough contact with my friends and family back home. But I am in that catch 22 situation in that if I go home, I will miss my friends here, so it's nice when they come to you.
(I will go home for a visit if someone's got money for my airfare!!)
The End of A Season
What do you people do on Saturdays?
From next weekend I get my Saturdays Back. Tomorrow is the last day of the Cricket Season. I remember thinking back in April that every Saturday between then and September is now spoken for. Eighteen Saturdays later I am now to be released. Funny that I should think that I am getting my Saturdays back, when really playing cricket is one of those things that makes life good. My observation has been that things become a lot more enjoyable when you can opt out of them. Does that make me lazy? There was a period in the middle of the season when I resented the fact that I had to turn out each and every Saturday, although I think that had something to do with the fact that I was not scoring runs and Wallingford was losing. However, I believe my enthusiasm has since returned. I wonder what this says about my personality. A lot of this has to do with the guys I play cricket with. I love the way they play cricket and I love the fact that they do it for the love of the game. I've said it before and I'll say it again. Great guys, one and all.
The season looks like as follows: Played 17, won 8, lost 7, drew 1 and 1 was abandoned without a ball being bowled. Last year we finished 16th of 18 teams. This year we will finish no lower than 8th. The most satisfying element of those results is that we have only drawn one game. This means that we play cricket to get results . Some teams in the league have drawn as many as nine games.
I think I might spend next Saturday cleaning my room.
From next weekend I get my Saturdays Back. Tomorrow is the last day of the Cricket Season. I remember thinking back in April that every Saturday between then and September is now spoken for. Eighteen Saturdays later I am now to be released. Funny that I should think that I am getting my Saturdays back, when really playing cricket is one of those things that makes life good. My observation has been that things become a lot more enjoyable when you can opt out of them. Does that make me lazy? There was a period in the middle of the season when I resented the fact that I had to turn out each and every Saturday, although I think that had something to do with the fact that I was not scoring runs and Wallingford was losing. However, I believe my enthusiasm has since returned. I wonder what this says about my personality. A lot of this has to do with the guys I play cricket with. I love the way they play cricket and I love the fact that they do it for the love of the game. I've said it before and I'll say it again. Great guys, one and all.
The season looks like as follows: Played 17, won 8, lost 7, drew 1 and 1 was abandoned without a ball being bowled. Last year we finished 16th of 18 teams. This year we will finish no lower than 8th. The most satisfying element of those results is that we have only drawn one game. This means that we play cricket to get results . Some teams in the league have drawn as many as nine games.
I think I might spend next Saturday cleaning my room.
Sunday, August 29, 2004
Not in My Name
I read about my alter-ego today. He has a book out called England for the English, and he is a member of the UK Independence Party. Some times I don't always agree with the things that are done in my name. Maybe this is how God feels...
Thursday, August 19, 2004
I'm easily influenced
I've just read 'The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time'. It is the trendy book of the year. Other trendy books of the year that I have read include 'The Life of Pi', 'Angela's Ashes', and 'The Shipping News'. 'The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time' is a stunning book. It is written through the eyes of a fifteen year boy with Asperger's Syndrome. It is remarkably funny as well as moving. I am easily moved. It is the sort of book that once you have read it, it effects your thought patterns, and the way you write. I read the book over a period of two days, and now I am thinking, reading and writing like a fifteen year old boy with Asperger's Syndrome. Either this means that the book is that good or I am easily influenced. I hope it's the former.
Little Countries
Belgium is a little country with great beer and very pretty towns. I go to Belgium semi-regularly to teach people how to model rivers. They are far from ideal catwalk wearables. Damn, that was a weak line. When I am in Belgium I pretty much do the same thing each time. I wander round the city, I eat a waffle and then I find a square to sit in and then I drink beer while watching Belgium go by.
Belgium has a reputation for being boring. This is not true, although Brussels leaves a bit to be desired. It does have the appropriately named Grande Plaza (not very big, but stunning to sit in and drink beer in), and the rather descriptive 'mannikin pis'. It's a statue of a little boy and the little boy is going for a piss. Brussels is effectively the capital of Europe, as this is where all the civil servants come to play. I think that Belgium got all the civil servants because Germany, France and the UK didn't want them to go to Germany, France or the UK. And Belgium has a history of neutrality, which hasn't stopped the Germans, French or British in the past.
Belgium has a reputation for being boring. This is not true, although Brussels leaves a bit to be desired. It does have the appropriately named Grande Plaza (not very big, but stunning to sit in and drink beer in), and the rather descriptive 'mannikin pis'. It's a statue of a little boy and the little boy is going for a piss. Brussels is effectively the capital of Europe, as this is where all the civil servants come to play. I think that Belgium got all the civil servants because Germany, France and the UK didn't want them to go to Germany, France or the UK. And Belgium has a history of neutrality, which hasn't stopped the Germans, French or British in the past.
Little People
I am about to go on holiday with a little person called Grace. She is less than six months old and her owners (sorry, parents) are also going.
Today I bought nappies. I don't have any children (mandatory disclaimer from virile man follows), at least as far as I know. Trust me, I would. Buying nappies felt a little weird, if also grown up.
It is one of those things that happen as you get older that you start to encounter small children on an everyday basis. I enjoy hanging out with children, they tend to want to do quite basic things, and are amused by things like me hiding behind the sofa. It is also fun to manipulate other people in your image, and it's much harder to do that with adults.
Apparently being good with children is attractive to women. I am not convinced this is true as I am good with children.
Today I bought nappies. I don't have any children (mandatory disclaimer from virile man follows), at least as far as I know. Trust me, I would. Buying nappies felt a little weird, if also grown up.
It is one of those things that happen as you get older that you start to encounter small children on an everyday basis. I enjoy hanging out with children, they tend to want to do quite basic things, and are amused by things like me hiding behind the sofa. It is also fun to manipulate other people in your image, and it's much harder to do that with adults.
Apparently being good with children is attractive to women. I am not convinced this is true as I am good with children.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
