An Important Clarification

My mum would like it to be noted that she gave blood perfectly several times before having three sons buggered up her blood pressure.

We Always Were Awkward Bleeders

The Taylors, it seems, are not good at giving blood. I would say we don't have it in us, but that would be a far worse situation than we are really in.

Yes, that's right, I've continued the fine family tradition of failing to give a full unit of blood without going funny. No doubt this trend will end with us all, frustrated at our inability to save lives indirectly, taking to the streets in Lycra outfits and fighting crime wherever it appears.

Let's hope that doesn't happen. I do not want to see my family in Lycra outfits.

My Maths Teacher Is Not At All Stuck In Morocco

On a scale of one to ten, where one is not stuck in Morocco and ten is totally, totally stuck in Morocco, she is certainly no more than zero stuck in Morocco.

My Maths Teacher Is Totally Stuck In Morocco

On a scale of one to ten, where one is not stuck in Morocco and ten is totally, totally stuck in Morocco, she is at least eleven stuck in Morocco.

Mark Taylor Wins National Award For Website

The 150th Post Spectacular

I just signed in to Blogger and I cannot for the life of me remember why. To be honest, I'm not even sure that there was a reason.

Possibly I am cracking up.

Only Two More Shopping Months

I just saw my first Christmas advert of the year! That's surely a sign that autumn is upon us.

Not Writing The Entry As A MasterCard Ad Parody: Priceless

In Waterstones today, I picked up David Copperfield and Alice's Adventures in Wonderland for £1.50 each, and a boxed set of twelve Shakespeare plays for £9.50 (sadly, unlike good DVD box-sets, this didn't come with any deleted scenes, interviews, or even a trailer for Cardenio, but at that price I'm not about to complain.)

If there's one sure-fire way to improve literature, it's to get it cheap.

Now Available In The Comfort Of Your Own Home

I was just having a glance on eBay to see if anybody was selling Monopoly counters (no, I can't think of a sensible reason why they would be either, but that's never stopped anyone on eBay before) and I found the PC version of Monopoly being sold in an auction with the following title:

"MONOPOLY- The Game -Brand New PC CD-ROM"

Quite what the seller believes the original version to be I'm not quite certain.

Hey Diddle Diddle

Last night, or possibly this morning, I had a dream in which I stole some grated cheese from the feeding trough of some cows on the Moon in order to give it away in a competition on this very blog.

I am very, very sorry not to be able to say that this dream has come true.

Perhaps I will hold a competition in which you can win grated cheese anyway. But then again, perhaps not.

He Played A Blinder

A new card game has been invented. A far better, tenser, more exciting card game than you have ever played, ever seen played, ever believed could be played. It is so simple a child could do it, though that is strongly, strongly discouraged.

It is a legend in the making.

It is "The Seven Of Diamonds Gets You Stabbed In The Eye".

The rules are simple. The deck is shuffled, and a single card dealt to each player. In turn, the players turn over their cards. If anyone has the seven of diamonds, they are stabbed in the eye, and the game is over. If not, the deck is reshuffled, and each player is dealt two cards. In turn, the players play their cards, and if anyone has the seven of diamonds, they are stabbed in the eye, and the game is over. The game continues like this until someone is stabbed in the eye.

If you do not have any friends willing to play with you, you can of course play solitaire The Seven Of Diamonds Gets You Stabbed In The Eye. This is simpler still. Shuffle the deck, deal yourself twelve cards (face down) in a line, and turn them over one by one, from right to left. If one of them is the seven of diamonds, stab yourself in the eye.

It is remarkable just how tense this game is even though it is decidedly obvious that nobody is really going to get stabbed in the eye.

Really, don't stab people in the eye. It's mean.

Simple Things

Honestly, if universities I'm not interested in are going to insist on sending me things about open days about a week before my applications will be going through, they could at least have the decency to put them in proper envelopes so I get the fun and excitement of opening them.

Curse you, Sunderland!

An International Reputation For Quality

Not so very long ago, the worst thing I could tell you about Lancaster University was that its 2006 prospectus has a shiny goldish cover that looks really quite naff, and is a bit ugly and mish-mashy inside. Since those carefree, innocent times, there have been Goings On at Lancaster. You may have read about them.

Their first mistake was to invite a bunch of companies with decidedly dodgy records when it come to human rights to a conference that they might get more involved with university research. Understandably, this riled some of their students and postgraduates who were of the opinion that their education might be better off if it were not driven by and towards companies like Shell, BAE Systems (they make things for killing people) and so on. Which is really fair enough. So, they organised a protest - a peaceful protest, mind - and, reportedly, were assured during it by the police that they were doing nothing wrong and could carry on. Which is really fair enough.

A few months later, they were served with court summonses, accused of "aggravated trespass" and facing a maximum of three months in prison. Which is really not fair enough.

Now, Lancaster seems pretty proud of its history of student activists. They even name colleges after them. And yet here they are, wantonly prosecuting the ones they've got now for an entirely peaceful protest. The only explanation I can think of is that they're trying desparately to make people forget how ugly their prospectus (and, come to think of it, their logo) is, and while that end is easy to sympathise with, their means are simply unacceptable.

There's an online petition yonder, you may very well wish to sign it. Alternatively, you could go and complain in person, but they might have you arrested.

It's Not The Crazy Dance!

The Crazy Dance doesn't live here anymore.

This is because The Crazy Dancer would not otherwise have given me a much-needed lift tonight.

Boo.

And Slowly, The Language Develops

People often invent new words. It's a common thing to do. They are often determined to ensure that these words become widely used. Success, admittedly, is rare. This is largely because the words in question are entirely useless and are foisted upon a population that doesn't want or need them.

Is knunder any different?

That is for everyone to decide.

It's The Loveliest Number Since The Number One

At the daytime Apex Challenge on Saturday, a great big Scout competition which basically involved running around a cold, wet moor up to your armpits in various kinds of moory vegetation and doing foolish things, the team I was in (I'm loath to call it "my team" lest people think I was instrumental in what success we had) scored 555 points... and came 5th.

We might be runners-up, but my, do we run up with style.

We Listen To Our Readers*

Comment received in response to the post "Ring Ring Ring Ring Ring Ring Ring":

Lailah has just suggested that you send that to Innocent. (The photo, not the phone, obviously. Trying to send a banana phone through the post would clearly just be silly, plus you'd lose your funky banana hook. I may be overthinking this.) Fame and honour will be yours! Or something like that.

E-mail sent 2nd September (with attached image, which I'm sure you can work out for yourself):

Dear innocent,

If your current bananaphone is not built from real fruit, I would like
to recommend this approach.

Thankyou for your time.

-- Mark Taylor

Reply received today:

Hello Mark,

Thanks very much for your e-mail. At the moment our bananaphone is only
made from fake bananas, but if we could find bananas which never ripened
and didn't turn to mush, then you could be onto something.

All the best,

Row

The trouble is that it's very difficult to tell whether or not they thought I was serious. Now, any volunteers to draw up a plausible-looking plan for a working real-fruit bananaphone?

*I say "we" because I feel it gives me an air of authority. I have no other team members... yet†.
†Though this might appear to be hinting at the appearance of some in the near future, in fact it isn't. Sorry if anyone saw in it a brief glimmer of hope that I might be diluted a little before long‡.
‡Sorry also for this absurd footnotery. Well, a bit. In all honesty, I rather enjoyed it.

I Would Eat My Words, But My Face Is Still Numb

Well, I got to see a dentist after all, so you can retract the sympathies you haven't given me. In place of the nasty and horrible decay I had, I now have a great big temporary not-quite-a-filling that looks oddly like a great big blob of chewing gum pounded into the hole. Though I'd imagine it has a mite more toughness to it than that. Still, the most important part of this endeavour is that my tooth is no longer painfully knackered.

Yay for dentists!

In Fifteen Minutes This Will Be Highly Appropriate

Ow. Toothache.

I have nasty, nasty toothache and I probably won't be able to see a denstist for a while. Cry cry cry cry cry.

I can't think of anything interesting to add to this. I just wanted to vent.

(The worst part is, it's not even a mystery toothache - my tooth really is quite clearly knackered. I do not like having a knackered tooth. Cry!)

I've finished whining now.

Ring Ring Ring Ring Ring Ring Ring