Before Going Into Politics, He Had Been A Pro Wrestler

Last night, I had a dream in which Gordon Brown body-slammed a macaroon.

Needless to say, my support for the Labour party has dropped enormously since I awoke.

At Least This Time It Wasn't My Fault

There are lots of things you don't want when you're halfway through an essay. The discovery that all your library books are overdue, for example, or the crushing realisation that the one key assumption on which all your arguments rest is fundamentally flawed. I think I would happily have taken any of the essay-woes I've been treated to in the past, though, over the point yesterday - round about the seven hundred word mark - where Windows decided that actually, on the whole, I probably didn't want any of the data on my hard disk and it would save everyone a lot of hassle if it just wiped the whole lot. After all, a little modification to the casing and I could easily turn my freshly-bricked laptop into a fully-functional garlic press, and that would save an awful lot of fiddly chopping when making stir-fry.

It's possible that it just thought it would be appropriate, while I was writing about Ovid, to transform my laptop into an attractive doorstop. Thoughtful though that was, I do already have a very nice doorstop with a little wooden duck named Trinculo perched on top of it, and as I currently only have one door that's really all I need.

On the plus side, I managed to get a lot of reading done while Linux was installing.

Chavs Do Not Think Things Through

When my hair is quite long, they shout "Get a haircut!". But we both know that if I did, they'd just shout "Ginner!" instead.

It pains me to see breath wasted like that.

If You Want Something Done Properly, You've Got To Do It Yourself

Really, Mark, if you don't want me to clandestinely muck about with your blogger account, you shouldn't let me know your password and then not update for four months. Despite both these things I still feel rather guilty (I'm sorry, I am bored, largely because I have lost one of my procrastination tools due to the fact that YOU NEVER BLOG ANY MORE)... so feel free to delete this post once you've read it. Really, the main thing that's compelled me to post despite feeling rather guilty is the curiosity to know how long it will take you to actually notice this exists...

I've sat here for a little while pondering whether to make a vague effort to be anonymous and mysterious. I've decided that I will, futile as it may be, mainly because I can't think of a way to sign off after this little paragraph without looking silly.

For Your Delectation, Three Games We Invented Last Night

1. "Rough Guide to Copenhagen" or "How To Survive A Robot Uprising"?, in which players must identify from which of those two fine books a (very) short extract is taken. Not as easy as it sounds.
2. Read The Headlines Backwards, in which you do exactly what it says on the hypothetical tin. Every bit as dull as it sounds almost all of the time.
3. Greek or Roman?, in which Paul is presented with a classical figure and asked to identify whether they are Greek or Roman.