Oooh, it’s a good one

Having been tagged by Turboslut, I now must delve into my backlog (sounds naughty, that) and retrieve the 23rd blog I posted. These are the complete set of rules:

Go into your archives.
Find your 23rd post.
Find the fifth sentence or close to it.
Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.
Tag 5 other people to do the same.

“Haha, I love that kind of logic!”
is the 5th sentence from my 23rd blog

And I tag Ioannis, Jessy, Rachey, Jill, and Bingboula (Tracy doesn’t even have 23 blogs, I’m sure. Nyah nyah ni nyah!)

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Out comes the notepad.

Okay, first point in my pad: My digibox remote wasn’t working for a brief period yesterday between 19:23 and 20:32. I thought my life had come to a standstill. I checked the batteries and they were ok. Now I must tell you a little about how I, as an avid scientist, approached this problem. Ever since I was a wee nipper I was interested in how things work. A simple clockwork toy would fascinate me, and I just had to figure out what made it tick. Some of my happiest hours were, and still are, spent taking things apart and most of the time putting them back together again. Physics to Naz the schoolboy was not a boring subject that had to be learned, but a key, an explanation of how things worked. Kinetic energy, levers and pulleys, all friends of man. So after checking the batteries I gave it a couple of quick whacks with the side of my hand. It’s working now and my life is back on track. 😛

I mentioned the The Dalai Lama yesterday, whose book I am currently reading. I can’t seem to put it down, which is great praise considering I’ve also got two sci-fi novels vying for my attention. A wonderful simplicity of the guy comes through on every page. And bliss of bliss! Michael Palin was talking about Tibet on ‘Himalayas’ as well, as he took the high road to Lhasa and he showed me all the places mentioned in the book. It was like a crash course in Tibetan history. I felt like packing my bags and setting off. I love Palin, he’s got a great sense of humour while travelling.

But before that our very own Channel M (those brighter ones amongst you may have already realised that it’s M for Manchester) showed an interview with Tracy Chapman!!! She’s such a quiet person, with an infectious laugh and always thinks carefully before talking. I was well impressed.

Then came ‘Touching the void’, the documentary about the climbers in Peru upon whom befell a great disaster. I had seen it before at the ‘moving picture hall’ but kept flicking back to it. I really sympathise with the guy lying dying, when he says how he kept hearing ‘Brown girl in the ring’ and couldn’t get it out of his head. He says, “I couldn’t believe I was going to die to Boney M”. I failed a Chem exam because of ‘November Rain’, as I’ve mentioned previously in these hallowed pages.

So what song would you like to go out on?

Free Man Walking

I have nothing to do with my time, so after a big (read: drunken) night out at Po Na Na with me mates, I wake up bright and early (well, 12 of the clock) so that I might have ample time in which to do the nothing which I must do. About Po Na Na, the few old school isomers that were there really showed the newbies, who scrapered off home at 11pm. And we had only begun shifting up through the gears.

I sauntered around town, looking to buy shoes and wearing my old scuffed Moshulus (you won’t find them in no Cosmopolitan, girl!) that made me look like I really needed them shoes, so I couldn’t get any bargains anywhere. My Moshulus, by the way, have superior ‘air waves’ technology for breathing feet caused by the incessant and persistent efforts of my big toes working for their freedom from ‘Sock Smell Central’.

Popped in to the central library, I got one book for myself (Arthur Clarke’s ‘Cradle’), another book for myself (Robert Rankin’s ‘the hollow chocolate bunnies of the apocalypse’) and one book to hold while about town, the cover of which is not prominently but cheekily displayed as I gaze thoughtfully into the distance ’cause the chicks dig an intellectual man (The Dalai Lama’s ‘Freedom in exile’ -spiritual as well, can’t go wrong there!). Also got Paganini’s 24 capricci, the best of the violin solos played like a crazed Yngwie Malmsteen. Nice lady at the desk gave moi a “Central Library”tm plastic bag worth 15p for free, maybe beacuse I had just shelled out £3.44 in fines (£3.44, where else but in a library, eh?)

I had a great Wetherspoons lunch with pasta Alfredo (I’ve made up my mind to meet this Alfredo one day and thank him, maybe slip him a few bob for his trouble) and Ali regaling me with hilarious stories of his flatmates.
A big thanks to Karen, who lurks on these pages but leaves no trace of her passing, for the congrats.

Also thanks to Ioannie, Jessy, B of S, Rachey, Rayk and tinks for cheering my Not-so-magnum Opus. Thanks to my director, for believing in me when even the soaps thought I was washed up. Okay, I did a few lines, I was crazy, success got to my head. But now I’ve cleaned up man! And this award proves it. I’m here, and I’m here to stay.

Oh, and by the way, for those who were concerned and flooded these pages with their wishes: The Chinese guys made it up safe, and they’re now looking down upon us as we speak. So I guess that tape of “Launch disasters: The greatest out-takes all in one chair-busting bonanza”, in Chinese of course, but I don’t know how to say ‘bonanza’ in Chinese. Nor the rest of it, for that matter 😛 (Ah, the old ones are the best ones!) is going back on the shelf awaiting another auspicious moment.

Dun and dusted

I have now 2 bound copies of my dissertation in my grubby mitts. Although it’s my own child, fruit of my loins, I’m not really proud of it. But the thing is that I’m finally shot of it. I was awake all night with bleary eyes staring at the screen. Fortified with essential vitamins in Red Bull, and after a cheeky nip down to the pub for a pint or five, I sat in MBS with Mamie trying to patch the gaping wounds in my disso.
Nighty night!

Don’t we just love the Chinese Government

China’s putting its second manned spaceflight up in orbit at 9am tomorrow (actually 1am our time). But foreign news crews are banned, and although they plan to broadcast around 50 hours of the flight live on state television, if the launch fails they plan to show a documentary about how other countries’ missions have failed. Vive la Republic!!!
Ooops, forgot: Thanks to NewScientist for this heads-up

Immortality

Sorry to keep you fans waiting for so long, only there’s the teeny matter of my dissertation that needs to be buried in a peat bog by the 12th. Yes, that’s this month. But like an addict to his needle, I return with trembling fingers (No, I shan’t have another Red Bull, thank you very kindly) to post. Ahhh, what shall it be today?? I remember leafing through Kundera again yesterday; I took him with me to Munich, but what with the beer and the beer, he kind of never made an appearance. There’s one very interesting (“Interesting”? Can’t I find a better adjective? One more complementary to the atmosphere of a seasoned surgeon dissecting human nature and spreading its entrails before us yet again?) chapter where he describes the meeting of Germany’s mind Goethe with France’s…. stomach(??) Napoleon (Bonnyparty always reminds me of a stomach. His appetite, and of course his quote “An army marches on its stomach”. Which, though true, nonetheless makes me smile). He speaks of Napoleon issuing ‘sound-bites’ much as a modern politician might, and utters his belief that people posed for photographs long before photographers existed. Or maybe that’s not quite correct how I put it. Not before they existed, but before they were present. Because Kundera writes that a thing exists in its essence long before it comes into being. I wish I could give you the exact words; maybe tomorrow. Au revoir, gringos!

Ranks 1

Cherryfairy goes to t’top, because it’s her HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! Bingboul’s climbing rapidly now she’s back from her parent’s home, and she addressed her plea directly to me. Autology slipping because there have been no updates. No changes in the bottom of the league; Rayk, Qing, Ye, Ina and Antonia all in the relegation zone at the moment. Ioannis, Boudica and Turboslut steady, as are Jessy, Jill and Tracy.
Remember, YOU CAN do something about your ranking!! Send me some money, or if you’re broke, call me and we can come to some other arrangement 😛

Test your Inglish

Yesterday I went home and took part in the BBC TV quiz that tests the English of the nation. Since I have freeview (the poor man’s Sky) I thought I’d get a bit of interactive action going. Imagine my horror then, when my score was tallied and it only came to a miserable 35/70!!! Yes, the computer can’t be wrong. 7/11 for comprehension (I didn’t mind that; I’m slow at the best of times), 6/14 for spelling, 7/14 for language, 9/19 for grammar and 6/15 for words. I knew there was some thing fishy in the state of Denmark. So I sat through the boring news and waited for the blow-by-blow, tedious answer session, where I found out, to my joy, that I had actually got 58/70!! I’d throw that damn digibox and its recalcitrant remote away if I weren’t so attached to it. The best score across the nation was 68/70, a computer consultant (yippee!!). Male, obviously 😛 And the two he got wrong were collective nouns. Apparently it’s a mischief of mice, a crash of hippopotami, and an ostentation of peacocks. Being an animal lover (no, don’t be silly, not literally), I was particularly gutted for getting those wrong. I also got one question on Shakespeare wrong, and I put that down to o’erconfidence (note how I made that sound like Shakespeare. I still got it!!) 😛

Ranks

I’ve been too kind on some of you lazy lot recently, so now I’m not going to place your weblogs under my links alphabetically anymore. No, I’m going to rank you! This gives me the ultimate and absolute power and you the pathetic human need to please the one who judges you harshly (i.e. “Please love me parent/teacher/elder sibling, why dont you love me?”). The best weblogs are measured along four criteria: those that interest me, talk about me, and comment on my weblog, as well as those that update regularly. So you know what to do now, get on with it. This being me, bribes, of course, are accepted. I will also be impressed by indiscreet attempts at discrediting other competitors; after all, in my books sabotage is a perfectly valid method of gaining competitive advantage. This is all in the name of some healthy nastiness, nature red in tooth and claw.

Oh, almost forgot to tell you. Last night on BBC Radio 2 (yes, I own one of those) I heard a girl called Kate Rusby sing a song called ‘Moon Shadow’. Jeez it were good! It gave me goose fat all over my arms (or was that the kebab dripping???)

A dog can blog

Yes, Sony’s Aibo dog can now blog. He takes pictures of his fondest moments of the day, and posts them. I’m hanging up my boots, slinging away my mouse and retiring. It’s sure to be better than mine.