Hallelujah!! Say it after me now!! Haaaal-lllllleeeee-lujah!! I checked my bank accounts today, (because I got some love-mail in the post from my water supplier on red stationery charging me to the tune of 160 smackeroonies) and Lo and behold! I saw with mine own eyes a Miracle!! Yes unbelievers! Repent now, before the Wrath of the Lord be upon thee!! A Miracle!! My bank has actually paid ME some money into my debit account. The princely sum of 0.01 p has been paid in as ‘net interest’!! Praise be the Lord, and all his people. I shall now settle all my earthly accounts promptly and devote the rest of my corporeal existence to the service of the Lord and his Earthly Minion, the Hongkong Shanghai Banking Corporation.

On another note, apparently women enjoy cartoons more than men. More specifically, New Scientist informs us it’s because initially women’s “expectation of being amused was lower”. I have often observed that men are more prepared to laugh at the absurd. But the question I ask is: What is the reason behind women having low expectations, and is it a trend that encompasses everything in a woman’s life?

I am also informed that Europe’s first Venus probe (that’s a spacecraft, not a sex toy), the Venus Express (how original!!) has been launched today.

Oh, and Jazz lovers, check out Bill Evans (if you haven’t already): Piano, with bass and drums. Simple, pero elegante! I’m ripping myself a huge collection of music gracias to the Manchester Central Library. Also got Jeff Buckley’s ‘Grace’; and although I prefer the live ‘Mystery White Boy’, you can see how he developed some of his songs as Grace is the earlier album.

Going swimming again at 7. The girls have pulled out. So they’re saved the trouble of having to pretend like they’re not with Mr. Bozo who’s flapping around like a puppy on acid. I just had a Joey-tribute sandwich, Italian meatballs (as opposed to the original Fijian ones, I suppose) in a rich tomato sauce with ‘mozarella’ (processed ordinary) cheese. After washing it down with a thick chocolate milkshake, I fear I have only added to my bone-density problems, especially around my midriff (I know there are no bones there except for the lumbar bones) which is why, I presume, I don’t float so well. Or at all.

As some of you may know, this weblog will soon be shifting to another site. What this means is that:-
1) I will no longer be piggy-backing on our isom site, as I have been deemed old enough to stop suckling and go foraging for myself.
2) Errr, that’s about it.
Of course, you junkies will have to type in a new URL (that be the wwwww thingy you type in the browser), it’s going to be http://www.xxxxxxxxxxx.co.uk. (I can’t type the real add here untill I’ve got it in case some jealous nobody buys it and then tries to sell it to me at an exhorbitant price that may or may not include the sale of mine grandmother dear)

Jill and I heard some real blasts-from-the-past at Ioannie’s yesterday. We went ASDA shopping, and bought 3 pizzas for dinner, as well as a gorgeous pesto’n’cheese ciabatta. Which we sat down to eat while having a moan about life, washed down with Bud. Then we went through I’s music files. Songs like

‘Mr Vain’ by Culture Beat,
‘Viva forever’ by Spice girls with Pavarotti,
‘Rhythm is a dancer’ by Snap, ‘It’s a rainy day’ by Ice MC ,
‘Reach for the stars’ by S Club 7,
‘No limit’ by 2Unlimited,
‘That’s why (you go away)’ by Michael Learns To Rock or MLTR as I’m told they are currently known.

It were a right riot, I tell thee!!!
(As a sidenote, I see on the official MLTR page that they’ve just had 50, 000 fans come to their concert in India this October).

I watched Shrek yesterday after I got home, didn’t find it much funny apart from a few classic Eddie Murphy moments (like when Donkey’s twitching before waking up he goes “Yeah baby, you know I like that” in his dream!). I could see in my mindseye little children roaring outrageously at the karate stunts of Princess Fiona (if that is indeed her real name) for example, but it just looked too manufactured to me.

By the way, if you look to the left of this blog, you will see my new tagline (in the little puke-yellow box). This is what I used to get threatened with as a kid. Rather counter-intuitive, dontchathink? Another Indian proverb = “Agree, don’t agree, I’m your guest” which is about those sticky guests that invite themselves to stay. And for balance, a Russian one = “Without rest, and a horse doesn’t skip” (I’m laughing as I write this) which means ‘all work and no play…’

Was just thinking of sharing a moment of reflection with you guys. I used to listen the The Eagles a lot when I was a kid, and I know all the lyrics to all the songs (everyone has a claim to fame. This is mine). Every now and then some poignant lines springs forth randomly (but often quite relevantly). Here’s an example.

“What do you do when your dreams come true
And it’s not quite like you had planned?”
From ‘After the thrill is gone’

“There’s talk on the street, it’s there to remind you
That it doesn’t really matter which side you’re on.
You’re walking away and they’re talking behind you.
They will never forget you till somebody new comes along.”
From ”New kid in town’

Nope, not at all. Managed to get some swimming done (to paraphrase the words of the great Ali, “I float like a lead weight, sink like a Russian Oscar-class atomic submarine”), which left my shoulders aching from pulling all 13 stone of me through the water.
Also went into town with Ioannis after swimming, and after a whopping great spicy chilli at The Footage, to see if something could be done about some person’s birthday. I bought an Asterix comic (the first one, ‘Asterix The Gaul’), and a Tom Holt omnibus, whcih I am presently working my way through.

Hey hey hey!!! It’s Lekha’s birthday today, many wishes for whatever it is you plan to do and all that.

Mahesh has got a weblog now, he’s an ex-Mancunian back to living in Brussels at the mo’, for those who don’t know him. He joins my ‘Links League’ table at the bottom, let’s see what he can do to win my favour!!

Looking for a new house now, since I’m leaving the one I currnently live in. Although the reason for my moving is ostensibly that the owners want to re-decorate, the reality is that I’ve extracted just about as much use as anybody can from it, and I leave it, like a cast-aside second skin, for greener (cleaner) pastures.

As I was lying on my bed, a random memory clamoured for attention from the murky depths of the slush that I like to call my brain. My sis and I use to amuse ourselves literally translating Hindi proverbs to English. My favourite? “Black letter equal to a buffalo”; meaning to an illiterate person (of which, you might be surprised, there are quite a few in India) a black aphabetic character might as well be a buffalo for all the sense it makes.

I hadn’t heard Bruce Dickenson’s ‘Tears of dragon’ for approx 7 years, so it was a pleasant surprise to hear it this weekend.

Sorry I’ve been away for so long. I know you guys are now locked in a dependency relationship, where the unwritten contract is that I continue to provide you with a source of amusement that, albeit temporarily, removes you from the hustle and bustle of everyday routine and allows you to look up to me and sigh in despair, thinking “When will I ever be like HIM???”

I got ‘The Dilbert Future’ from the library yesterday, along with some other high-brow philosophy books that I’m not going to bother you with the titles of. A quote is therefore in order here, so I quote Scott Adams, cartoonist (of Dilbert fame).

Thousands of years ago, women figured out they could disguise their preferences as “religion” and control gullible men that way. In one part of the world, I imagine the conversation went like this:

Husband: I’ll be back in an hour. I’m going to covet my neighbor’s wife,
Wife: You can’t do that.
Husband: Why not?
Wife (thinking fast): Um… God said so. He’s an omnipotent being. If you don’t obey him you’ll burn in hell.
Husband: Whoa, that was close one. Thanks for warning me… How about if I kill her husband first?
Wife: Ooh, bad news on that, too.

And I know it should be spelt neighbour, but he’s American. ‘Nuf said!

I’m supposed to be making applications, selling myself, power lunching, market re-structuring, blah blah. Instead, I’ve usually got my feet up, a couple of books strewn around, telly on and a few take-out numbers close at hand! Vive la Pigginess! (It’s an Early French term that has fallen into disuse over the ages). Pour l’example (another instance of my casual, off-hand switchery between languages that demonstrates my mastery thereof) I left home at 3pm today to get stuff sorted out, and by 5 I’m already hooked up to my IntraVenous drip and blubbering away.

I know I promised Walter Mosley a while ago, but I’ll do that tomorrow. As a taster, I’ll tell you it’s about the phenomenon of groups keeping each other informed as an alternative to media dependance and brainwashing.

I am informed that a professor has been sacked from MIT for fabricating data in his research. So, we’re not the only ones then, eh??? (This is a nod to our own Gareth “Cut’n’paste” Edward aka “Fingers”)
I bumped into Brian yesterday while having a red curry at the Royal Orchid restaurant yesterday (yes, I’m trying to find a replacement for that belter I had in Munich), he’s doing a gig at The Rampant Lion, so gonna go pick up Tinks and her flatmates and party till late!!