Saturday, August 31, 2002 :

On the track at Donnington Park yesterday.

Friday, August 30, 2002 :

Turbo Shandy

At a friend's stag do, almost a year ago now, Banderama was extolling the virtues of drinking Becks with Smirnoff Ice. I'm not sure whether it was as a result of my inebriated state at the time (or whether anything seemed interesting after the 17th game of "slammers, sliders and [arse] spiders") but the concoction actually tasted OK - though I was somewhat concerned about its side effects when Banderama lost the power of speech later that night. Last night, I discovered from a friend from work that the cocktail is known as "Turbo Shandy". Apparently any beer plus smirnoff ice (aka "bitchpiss") will do, but as I drunkenly informed my assembled work colleagues yesterday, a true Turbo Shandy connossieur would only ever use Becks. I then demonstrated that the only acceptable method of consumption was to put both bottles to one's lips simultaneously (as opposed to mixing them in a bottle) and DRINK... WARNING: Another side effect of excessive amounts of Turbo Shandy is the misconception that going to a cheesy nightclub on a school night with a bunch of 20 year old secretaries and vac students is a good idea. As Roger Murtaugh said to Martin Riggs: "I'm getting too old for this shit".

Thursday, August 29, 2002 :

From the sublime to...

home-page you can find some even more amazing stuff, like the X21. A car which started off life as a Metro-based Audi TT replica and ended up (presumably after Audi complained) as something which, despite no longer resembling an Audi TT, still looked absolutely shit and was really an Austin Metro underneath. The ultimate combination of style and performance, I'm sure. Bizarrely, by taking the approach of making it look exactly like the 1950's Porsche 356 Speedster, I think Banham's "New Speedster" actually looks considerably less cack than the current Porsche 911...

I can see for miles

A wonderful coincidence. Earlier this morning, I posted a comment somewhere below about how I thought "I can see for miles" by the Who would be a potential all-time favourite air guitar tune (of mine, anyway). This afternoon, I noticed for the first time that foXinternet links to the London weather website which today states that the visibility is "unlimited miles". This is not strictly true as far as I am concerned as I can only see as far as the White Hart from out of my window. I reckon that's about 35 yards. Or 0.0199 miles. But an interesting concept nevertheless. Fred Trueman (I think) was once bowling at his fastest late in the evening when the batsman complained to the umpire about the light (or lack of light) and consequent potential for injury to himself. "You can see the moon," said Fred. "How far do you want to see?"

Wednesday, August 28, 2002 :

Gambling log aftermath

I felt I should salute the gods of gambling with a bottle of champagne to celebrate the latest win. I must admit, it was a nice feeling to go into Oddbins and start browsing. And an even nicer feeling when I was asked if I required any assistance.

“Yes, I'm looking for a nice bottle of champagne”.
“Do you have a budget at all”?
(pauses, thinks)
“No, not really”.

After a bit of discussion of the merits of Krystal 1995 versus Dom Perignon 1995 versus Bollinger RD 1988, I settled on the Krug 1988. Very nice indeed, and I think Chrish and April enjoyed it too.

Tuesday, August 27, 2002 :

In other news, I had a fantastic weekend in Stratford-upon-Avon, complete with Shakespeare play and horse-back riding. The one hitch was in attempting to hire the car. Turn up at Hertz with only your UK photo-card licence and you're not going to get anywhere. Apparently they need to see the paper counterpart so they can check if you've got any driving convictions. Of course, if you turn up with a US licence, which is photo-card only, they'll happily hand over the keys, despite the fact that you could have obtained the licence by passing your test in (and only ever have driven since) an automatic, have never driven in the UK or on the left-hand side of the road before, and have 27 serious driving violations recorded on the magnetic strip on the licence, which Hertz have no means of reading. Luckily, April had her California licence with her so we weren't left stranded at the station.

Another mixed English and overseas party next to us in the queue were having exactly the same problem; seems that a Kiwi licence will do nicely as well. Now I got the impression over the bank holiday weekend that a lot of English people were enjoying the opportunity of taking their overseas visitors to see the picturesque sights of Shakespeare's birthplace. So presumably, the roads of Stratford were full of English people, who have been driving in this country for years, being chauffeured around in hired cars by foreigners, who have never been around a roundabout before. Now correct me if I'm wrong, but this seems like a damn good recipe for unnecessary car accidents.

For the first time (as far as I know — I don't, like, check every day or anything — just once in a while when I think about it), foxinternet.co.uk has knocked foxinternet.com off the top spot if you do a google search on "foxinternet". So we'll probably be getting a cease and desist letter soon…

Friday, August 23, 2002 :

Gambling log

In other news, I gave up gambling yesterday, having lost over £1,000 over the last ten days. Rob Wright has been properly letting me down lately and nothing I backed was doing anything (well, even more annoyingly, I had a few close seconds). But then Geoff rang me today from Newmarket racecourse, which prompted me to have a look at who was racing, and who was tipped... Coupled with the fact that I'd had three pints over lunch, the temptation was too great, and I was soon enjoying the rush of my biggest ever bet to date - £1,000 on the nose on Rob Wright's nap of the day. The odds dropped before the off because there was a non-runner so I ended up on a big favourite. Still, I was pleased when it won.

Dilemma. It's good to have a website for when you have something to say. But no-one will read it unless you ALWAYS have something to say.

Thursday, August 22, 2002 :

Pizza, Black Pudding and Whispering Bob. (Genius)

Cheers for the beers last night gents. As well as the nice Summer Ale in the Butcher's, two brilliant revelations were visited on me last night between the hours of 10.30 and 1. First, there was the Full English Breakfast pizza. As I'm sure I mentioned ad nauseam last night, that is genius. In fact it is one of those works of genius which is so brilliant that you can't believe it's never been done before. Very much like chips must have been, or pizza itself. (Oh yes, and the wheel if you must). I mean, black pudding on a pizza. As I said, genius. Second, on arrival chez Bandy there was the magnificence of the 30 year rerun of the best moments of the Old Grey Whistle Test complete with both versions of Whispering Bob Harris (the current one and the 1970s flared-trousered sideburn-clad one). When you are hammered and full of FEB pizza, there are a number of things you want to do (karaoke, sleep on the night bus, talk out of your backside etc). The number one slot has now been retired in honour of last night's offering of the full live version of "Freebird" by Lynyrd Skynyrd free on BBC 2. Genius. Not sure the missus was quite so impressed though.

Woah, big tank slapper on the way into work along Upper Thames Street...

Wednesday, August 21, 2002 :

Want

This is strange story from the Chicago Tribune (registration required). An Illinois company is now offering to turn people's cremated remains into a diamond to be worn in jewelry by the loved ones they leave behind.

This guy has a good and amusing website.

Tuesday, August 20, 2002 :

Check out the new style sheet for use at work - toggle button also found at the bottom of the right navigation menu.

Lies and statistics

A survey for a publicans' trade paper has revealed that the average price of a pint of bitter (or "real ale") in London has now exceeded £2 a pint for the first time. If this is the first time this has happened, the survey must be conducted over an alarmingly small number of pubs on the outskirts (either that, or they are using some statistical "average" which did not form part of maths at schools (i.e. add up the prices and divide by the number of pubs)). This must be the case as, although being a less regular bitter drinker than I was in the days when life was less hasty and the beer was more tasty (i.e. when I lived in York), I cannot recall the last time I paid less than £2.20 for a pint. If anyone can enlighten me (on both where to find a decent pint, and where to find one that costs £1.99 or less), all comments gratefully received. The possibility of using this as a theme for a pub crawl has just flashed before my eyes. Thought for the day gleaned from this article on the BBC website. The caption next to the fat bearded bloke is possibly the funniest thing ever to come out of a BBC news item.

Goose/gander - what's good for whom?

I regard it as bad form for a waiter to chat up your girlfriend throughout dinner. This is what I was faced with the other night. It started with a lengthy, flirtatious summary of the day's specials. Later into the meal, we were (I should say, she was) graced with lines such as "you are an angel, where are your wings" and "I was miserable before I saw you, now I am happy". The culmination was a rendition of "God bless America" (my girlfriend being American). I was also a bit irritated that said girlfriend was lapping it up - "he's sweet", "he should be an actor" and "wow, that's very impressive that you know [the first line of] God bless America".

When I go out to eat, I don't like to sense the waiter hovering on the periphery, frantically attempting to think up another cheesy one-liner that he could interject in the direction of my bird. It stresses me out. I can't digest my freakin' food. If I wanted cheese, I'd order the freakin' Rocquefort. When I made the point that it was all a bit annoying, I was predictably told that it was nice and to stop being so silly. I'd be very interested to see how my, or in fact anyone's bird, would react if it was the other way round and we had a waitress laying it on thick, singing "God save the Queen" etc.

Monday, August 19, 2002 :

Gambling

This is a fascinating account of some whizz-kid from MIT who beat Las Vegas.

Wednesday, August 14, 2002 :

I really want one of these.

When I left the flat this morning, April was not feeling very well and said she'd be in the toilet most of the day. I sincerely hope she did not mean that literally.

Pub quiz list. Maybe we should get involved? [via Pumpkin publog].

Tuesday, August 13, 2002 :

Cool table tennis picture [via jish.nu]

Saturday, August 10, 2002 :

Good tax law

Just thought I'd bring to your attention section 93(7) of the Taxes Management Act 1970. The Revenue have been on my back for ages, and have been attempting to fine me £100 for not filling in one of their tedious (and badly drafted) forms. Despite the fact that I paid their £100 fine and filled in the form, they recently tried to fine me £100 yet again, which led me to taking the drastic measure of actually looking up the law. I thought it was ridiculous that they could fine me when in fact THEY owe ME money, rather than the other way around. Fortuntely, so did the legislature, and s.93(7) TMA 1970 says that the £100 fine cannot exceed the tax you actually owe them. So if the Revenue start trying to get £100 out of you and you pay all your tax PAYE, you can tell them where to shove it.

Friday, August 09, 2002 :

Motoring "criminal" law sucks

Just saw a programme about the world's (or UK's anyway) worst drivers. I was annoyed that a muppet coach driver's penalty for driving his coach through 5 people's back gardens before ploughing through a retired couple's bedroom narrowly avoiding killing the aforementioned retired couple whilst either (a) asleep at the wheel and lying in court or (b) not asleep but unable to go around corners in his coach whilst awake was to be fined £60 and get 4 points on his license. I, on the other hand, was fined £260 and got 7 points for driving perfectly safely along a stretch of dual carriageway in London. Twice. Admittedly I was going slightly faster than I was legally entitled to do but I was helping reduce the justification for Ken's ridiculous central London congestion charge by increasing the average speed of traffic in the city centre... Anyway suffice to say I now prioritise looking out for speed cameras rather than attempting to drive safely - it's cheaper...

What IS it about female lawyers?

What IS it about Kiwis, South Africans and Ozzies?

Hey; I reckon you're all posting more following the link on Blogs of Note. A brief filip in a steady decline, I'm sure - but before we drop off the bottom again, thanks, Blogs of Note, and hello to anyone who checks out the site as a result.

Michael Landon

Apparently Michael Landon (from Bonanza, Little House on the Prairie and Highway to Heaven fame) took part in the Olympic javelin trials. Must have been a tricky career choice for him; actor or Olympic javelin-thrower? Don't do it, Tucola...

Chris Evans in not being dead tragedy

There should be a law against misleading headlines getting people's hopes up. I mean what else are you expected to think "Chris Evans in Yacht Tragedy" is supposed to mean?

Thursday, August 08, 2002 :

The 5K results are now up.

Wednesday, August 07, 2002 :

It's been a busy few days. On the plus side, I had my first drum lesson on Saturday morning. My plan is to spend my ill-gotten gambling booty on buying a drum-kit, something I have always wanted (get that, neighbours..! Seriously, I think I'll have to get an electric one so I can listen on headphones, to avoid spewing ensuing from nextdoor). On the minus side I then went down with a throat infection which penicillin has so far failed to shift. Must be one of those resistant strains. Still feel like crap, actually.

Friday, August 02, 2002 :

Swallered a dictionary have ya?

Since we seem to be on the words tip, here's a couple of words I have come across a few times recently and for which I always forget the meanings:
Champerty: a proceeding by which a person not a party in a suit bargains to aid in or carry on its prosecution or defense in consideration of a share of the matter in suit.

Oxymoron: a combination of contradictory or incongruous words (e.g corporate responsibility)

Thursday, August 01, 2002 :

Bear Bating?

Personally I should have thought that bear bating was a much better sport than bear baiting, given that "baiting" means to attack or torment, as well as to set traps for - in either case, you're likely to end up with several hundred pounds of angry bruin. Bear bating on the other hand, would mean "to lessen the force of, to moderate", which sounds fine and dandy to me, especially as even those little cuddly ones would have your arm off as soon as look at you. The reason I say all this is that I've decided that in the world of pointless postings, the pointless posting about semantics seems to be king. And I get quite riled by those people who insist on writing about how they waited with "baited breath" until something happened (presumably waiting to see if some irate member of the family Ursidae could escape from its honey-bated trap). Now I can see how, in a nightclub, you might stand around in some dark corner hoping to lure some popsy into your clutches by cunningly baiting your breath with lager. However, I do not see how this means you are waiting with the same sense of suspense and shallow breathing which you should have when you are waiting for someone to sit on that chair you've just whisked away from under them. It's amazing these days how many people are so over-educated they get things like that wrong. [Cue admission by Chrishola that he's always baited his breath with wine gums on the offchance.]

Golden Rules of Gambling

The golden rule of gambling - never chase your losses. Well, looks like that should be almost never.

As some of you may know, I've been having a bit of a dibble on the horses lately. Having had a bit of luck, I was playing with profits, so I was able to be a bit cavalier in how I chucked my money around. Early yesterday morning, I stuck a few quid across all the horses tipped at Goodwood by Rob Wright at The Times. 15 minutes before the last race, I'd lost every bet so far.

Gambling sucked. Mugs game. To rub salt in the wound, I then stumbled upon this game, at the 5K. It seems designed to teach kids the folly of gambling by having 3 rabbits racing each other for you to bet on. Since the odds you are offered are always evens, you should consistently lose overall. But after 5 minutes playing, I had won 6 times in a row. I had a rush of blood to the head. This was a sign. So I dumped the entire contents of my Betfair account on the tip for the last race, on the nose. Pity none of you were around for the Dom P last night - it's nice to be lucky sometimes, isn't it...

[Disclaimer - this freak win was achieved completely against the commonly accepted principles of sensible gambling. Do not try this at home].

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