Hospital

Was in Edinburgh today for a hospital appointment - really just a check-up to make sure everything's OK with my ankle, which it is. They reckon I'll probably need a hip replacement at some point, but that's hardly news to me. In fact, shortly after my accident I was told I'd probably need it done within 1 to 2 years - and that was almost 5 years ago. I've had plenty of time to get used to the idea. At the moment though, it's not causing me any significant pain or discomfort, so I'm happy to leave well alone for the time being.

This also means that I won't be attending the hospital for check-ups any more, which is good news. I wasn't entirely thrilled at having to take an entire (unpaid) day off work for a 10-minute appointment (plus a 3.5 hour round-trip and a 1.5 hour wait in the hospital). I don't mind taking the time off work; it's the 'unpaid' part that bothers me. Frickin' company policies. But that's another story...

Oh No!

I've been enjoying a little bit of retro-gaming lately, mostly through the wonders of Steam, but over the last couple of days I've been reliving my childhood* thanks to this online version of the wonderful Lemmings.

*OK, early-twenties-hood, if you're going to nitpick.

DNA Test

There might be something in it. Maybe.



You are an Analyst

Your attention to detail, confidence, sense of order, and focus on functionality combine to make you an ANALYST.

You are very curious about how things work, delving into the mechanics behind things.

Along those lines, how well something works is usually more important to you than what it looks like.

You find beauty and wonder mainly in concrete, functional, earthly things.

You are very aware of your own abilities, and you believe that you will find the best way of doing things.

Accordingly, problems do not intimidate you, as you believe in yourself.

You trust yourself to find solutions within the boundaries of your knowledge.

You don't spend a lot of time imagining how things could be different—you're well-grounded in the here-and-now.

It is important for you to follow a routine, and you prefer the familiar to the unknown.

Your independent streak allows you to make decisions efficiently and to trust your instincts

You prefer to have time to plan for things, feeling better with a schedule than with keeping plans up in the air until the last minute.

You are Reserved

You are RESERVED – you aren't someone who always needs to have others around, and you find you can handle most situations on your own.

You can be very happy spending time alone, and enjoy your own thoughts and ideas.

You find it difficult to understand why some people get so emotional and tell everyone else their problems.

You believe that if you want to get something done, it is best to do it yourself.

In your experience, other people are not always completely dependable, so you generally rely on yourself and only a few close others.

Despite your independence, you are not a closed-minded person who makes hasty judgments about others. You know that it isn't always easy to walk in other people's shoes.

At times other people's feelings are puzzling to you, and you wish that people were more rational.

Your vision of the world is complex – your values are not set in stone. Instead, you are able to change your beliefs as you learn new information.

It's Snowing Out There

It's February. It's Scotland. It's snowing. Well, duh.

Wankshop, Part 2

I was right. It was totally wanky, and pretty much a waste of time. As compensation, I am working from home tomorrow. Woohoo!

Wankshop

So tomorrow I have to attend something that glories under the name of A Culture Workshop. A combination of words that sets my hackles rising. I think it's the word Workshop that gets on my nerves the most. It just sounds like... well... a big old pile of wank. I'll report back on this, but my prediction is this: It will be a big old pile of time-wasting wank.

Tree Fiddy!

It's my 350th post, apparently.

So... uh... do you think Brooce had enough backing singers, or what?

A Look Back

2008 was a pretty good year for music. Here's some of the stuff I've enjoyed over the year.

Tony Christie - Made In Sheffield

He could have taken the easy route and made more cheesy Amarillo-style pop. Instead, with the help of the likes of Jarvis Cocker and Richard Hawley, he made a beautifully crafted, dignified album and surprised the heck out of all of us. My personal choice would be Born To Cry, but Danger Is A Woman In Love would make a great Bond theme.





Henry Priestman - The Chronicles of Modern Life
The guy from The Christians made a classic Grumpy-Old-Man album. Have a listen to Don't You Love Me No More? and Grey's The New Blonde.









Guns N' Roses - Chinese Democracy
Seventeen frickin' years we waited for this. Was it worth the wait? Well, yeah. Almost. It dragged on a bit towards the end, but parts of it were flat-out brilliant. Catcher In The Rye, even without Brian May's guitar parts, stood out for me.








Glasvegas - Glasvegas
I really wanted to hate this. They say you shouldn't judge a book by its cover - equally you shouldn't judge a band by their awful name. OK, the name still annoys me (and most of Glasgow, I'd imagine), but this is a debut album more exciting than anything since Oasis.

Wall-of-sound production, songs about absentee fathers and social workers, loads of swearing and Scottish accents that make the Proclaimers sound like Prince Charles. Nice.



Duffy - Rockferry
A good old-fashioned slice of classic-sounding soul, and apparently the UK's top-selling album of the year. Try Warwick Avenue and Mercy.









Elvis Costello and the Imposters - Momofuku
Declan's best for years (named after the inventor of instant noodles, apparently). Sadly there's not much to be found in the way of evidence on YouTube, but here's a live performance of American Gangster Time.

Happy New Year

Ummmm.... OK... I'm a little late with this, but all the same, I hope 2009 is a good year for you.

You Don't Really Care For Music, Do Ya?

Hey ho. We all knew which song was going to be #1 this Christmas. The question was, which version of Hallelujah would take the top spot. Tragically, it was X-Factor winner Alexandra slitting the throat of Leonard Cohen's classic to line the pockets of that c*** Simon Cowell.

Erm, anyways, I did my bit. I bought Jeff Buckley's version (which ended up at #2) and Leonard's version (#36), but sadly to no avail. Ah well. I guess it's a good enough song to withstand any amount of butchering.

* There's something about the Leonard Cohen video that reminds me of the Muppet Show. Just me?

Cool Stuff

1. Steam. I downloaded this last week, since when I've been wallowing in the nostalgic bliss of playing all those games that once made Friday afternoons at work so spectacularly unproductive. Doom, Doom II, Quake, Quake II, Heretic, Hexen, Hexen II. After 10 years, I finally have a computer that can do justice to the graphics of Quake II. And it looks... uh... yummy.
2. Remote. A little app for the iPod touch or iPhone, that lets you use the iPod/Phone as a remote control for iTunes. Perfect for those staying-in-bed days. Which - for me - is most days. Did I mention that I'm off work until January 12th?
3. I just noticed this - VLC Media Player's system tray icon has been given a little Santa hat. How very festive. Here's the magnified version.

This Time It's Personal

Hey, you remember that Attic Lights song "Wendy", dontcha? Y'know, that song you couldn't get out of your head for a fortnight. Imagine how much more infectious that would have been if your name actually was Wendy.

Well, quit imagining, because they've helpfully recorded 60 alternate versions of the song with 60 different names, so (almost) everyone can get a piece of the action. Anyone whose name is Adam, Alex, Amy, Andy, Becky, Ben, Billy, Boogie (?), Bowie, Charlotte, Cheryl, Chris, Claire, Danny, Davey, Emily, Emma, Gary, Gemma, Hannah, Helen, Ian, James, Jay, Jessica, Joey, John, Julie, Karen, Katie, Kevin, Laura, Lauren, Lee, Lisa, Louise, Lucy, Mark, Marky, Martin, Matthew, Michelle, Mikey, Natalie, Neil, Nicola, Paul, Peter, Plu-ey (?), Rachel, Ritchie, Robert, Romeo, Sammy, Sarah, Simon, Sophie, Stevie, Teddy or Tommy, that is.

Would it have killed them to record a Big Al version? Tsk.

Huh?

Last night was the BBC's annual fundraiser for Children in Need. Remarkably, on the night they topped last years £19 million by a further £2 million. Quite spectacular, considering that apparently no-one in the whole world has two beans to rub together.

Anyways, this year continued the tradition of giving a teaser of the upcoming Doctor Who Christmas special. Which this year turns out to be quite baffling.

Ambiance

Here's a handy little app for the iPod Touch/iPhone. It's perfect for sleepyheads like me who like to get a bit of shut-eye on the train to work. It's not easy getting to sleep on the train - too damn noisy for one thing. I'd like to meet the genius who thought it was a good idea to make mobile phones that can play music through a speaker, thereby giving people yet another new way to be annoying.

The obvious solution is to plug the earphones in and stick a bit of music on. While his usually succeeds in drowning out the outside noise, it aint easy dropping off to sleep when AC/DC are beating your eardrums to a pulp.

What you need is something that plays nice soothing sounds, something to shut out the noise around you, but not so distracting as to keep you awake. That's where Ambiance comes in. I've been using it for a while now, and have found the Stream and Waterfall settings to be particularly effective. In fact, the first time I tried Stream, i slept almost all the way to Glasgow.

Just one thing. I wouldn't recommend using it on a full bladder.

Manuelgate

Oooh, it's all got a bit messy in the Russell Brand/Jonathan Ross/Andrew Sachs fiasco, what with Brand resigning from the BBC and Ross being suspended for 12 weeks, without pay - and when you're on 16 grand a week, that stacks up. I would imagine that will be the last time either of them decide to leave rude messages on some unfortunate actor's answerphone and crack jokes about shagging his granddaugther.

IMHO, the show's producer was at fault as much, if not more than, Brand and Ross. Everyone knows they're a pair of loudmouthed eejits. So it probably wasn't a great decision on his part to give them Andrew Sachs' home phone number. On top of that, it was a recorded show, so how difficult would it have been to edit those sections out before broadcast?

And what does Mr Sachs' granddaughter, Georgina Baillie, have to say about the BBC's reaction to this matter? Well, according to Thursday's Metro:

"Me and my grandad are both really happy because it could have damaged our reputation permanently," said the 23-year-old Satanic Sluts dancer.

Uh... hello?

Attic Lights (again)

This is the song that I've listened to more than 150* times over the last 5 days. If there's such a thing as the perfect 3-minute pop song, this is the one that would get my vote.

* at last count

Attic Lights

Anyone want to take a guess as to what might be my favourite song from the Attic Lights album?

39

I managed to remember to take my camera to QPR last night. Unfortunately, I forgot the put the 2GB memory card inside it. I had been hoping to record some of last night's event for posterity. As it turned out, I managed to record about 90 seconds of the old song '39. Which, to be fair, has always been one of favourite Queen songs. Allegedly, if you count the songs on the first 4 Queen albums, '39 is the 39th track to appear. I've never been quite sad enough to check up on this. No, I haven't.

Anyhow, this a far better quality version than the one I grabbed...

Queen + Paul Rodgers, Glasgow SECC

The guy from the [Glasgow] Herald couldn't have been more wrong. "Don't expect to hear too many oldies tonight, because [they] have a new album to plug".

In a two-and-a-quarter hour set, QPR played 5 songs from their new album. The first half hour was a relentless bombardment of old favourites. Hammer to Fall, Tie Your Mother Down, Fat Bottomed Girls, Another One Bites The Dust, I Want It All, I Want To Break Free. Later on, three songs from A Night At The Opera: Love of My Life, '39, and I'm In Love With My Car. And on to A Kind of Magic, Radio Gaga, Crazy Little Thing Called Love, Bohemian Rhapsody, We Will Rock You and We Are The Champions.

Not to mention 3 songs from Paul Rodgers' back catalog... Seagull, Bad Company, and something called All Right Now.

Yeah, not too many oldies.

We Believe

OK, last one. I promise.

Runaway

While I'm on about Queen & Paul, who'd have seen this coming?

Small

Off to see Queen & Paul Rodgers tomorrow night. Their new album, The Cosmos Rocks, has been a pleasant surprise - after all, the notion of a Queen album without Freddie doesn't initially sound promising. But they've pulled it off.

Here's my favourite song from the new album - it's called "Small", which is something you wouldn't readily associate with Queen. Full of surprises.

Suspended

Oh hurrah. The rail dispute hasn't been entirely resolved, but the second 24-hour strike has been suspended. So, thank goodness, I get to turn up at the office tomorrow*. Praise be, the extra 3 hours of quality time were really starting to take their toll.

*Or later today, nitpick fans.

Strike!

Those pesky rail signalworkers are at it again. Unless there's a breakthrough in last-minute negotiations tomorrow, they'll be staging two 24-hour strikes this week. Cunningly though, the first of these begins at noon on Tuesday and ends on noon on Wednesday. The second will run from noon on Thursday until noon on Friday. Clever, eh?

Imagine the disruption if this goes ahead. I, for one, would be forced to work from home all week - which would be awful, what with having to stay in bed for an extra hour in the morning, and having to conform to the most relaxed dress code imaginable, and being home 2 hours earlier than usual in the evening. Just awful.

Citizen Firefighter

This sculpture stands just outside Central Station in Glasgow. It's a tribute to all the firefighters of Strathclyde Fire & Rescue, and takes on another significance at this time of year.

I took the photo today on my lunchbreak. As you can probably see, a few people had left flowers. There were a few more by the time I passed again on my way for the train home.

On an unrelated note, the sign above the door of the hotel in the background appears to be missing the word 'Low' at the start. Trust me, I've stayed there.

Fred

Oops. I missed your birthday. Sorry about that, Fred.

I'm still here

In case there was any doubt. It's been a long time posting, but I haven't had a whole lot to complain about. In fact, I only have one minor grievance. In fact, it's not even a grievance. It's just a little nit-pick.

Here goes.

Is it really necessary to remind us all that shampoo is "for external use only".? Aw Jeez, and I was just about to start washing my hair from the inside.

Journey's End

Without giving anything away, last night's season finale of Doctor Who was just about the best thing I've ever seen on television.

Despite the idiot continuity announcer yammering all over the top of the closing credits.

Dear Auntie

The following suggestion* has been logged with the BBC, for all the good it'll do me.

It's the series finale of Doctor Who. Just for once, at the end of the programme, it would be really nice to hear the closing music without some idiot continuity announcer yammering on over the top of it. After all, why go to the trouble and expense of a new orchestral arrangement if the viewing audience never gets a chance to hear it?

Worth a try.

* Complaint

Aaaaarrrrrgggghhhhh! He's back!

Probably the worst-kept secret in Doctor Who history. After all, they've brought back the Daleks, the Cybermen, the Master, the Sontarans, Sarah Jane Smith and K9. So I guess it was inevitable this guy would show up sooner or later.

iBlog

An experiment. I'm trying - for the first time - blogging from an iPod. Why? Well, because I can. It's more than a little fiddly, but I'm interested to see if it works. Typing on a 3-inch-wide screen is not the easiest way of blogging, I can assure you.

So wrong, it's right

I'm kinda impressed by the fact that he manages to rip off both Warren Zevon and Lynyrd Skynyrd...

Brooooooooooooooooooooce

Phew. The tickets arrived in time. Thanks for making me sweat it though, TicketMaster.

Anyway. It was another great night courtesy of Bruce and the E Street Band. The setlist was a mix of old and new, even including a few audience requests.

No room, sadly, for Thunder Road or 4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy). We did get old favourites like Rosalita, It's Hard to Be a Saint In The City, Badlands, Adam Raised A Cain, and the obligatory blistering Born To Run.

In a two and a half hour* set, I guess you can't get all the songs in that everyone wants to hear. Eight hours might just about do it. But still, wouldn't have missed it for the world. There's a pretty good review here.

* It must be an age thing. I remember when Springsteen shows lasted 4 hours. Eeee, when I were a lad.

Dude, where's my car? And my tickets?

Only a week to go until Bruce Springsteen in Manchester. And finally, today I received confirmation from TicketMaster that my tickets have - at last - been dispatched. Tickets which I ordered in December, I might add. Talk about cutting it fine.

Anyways, can't wait. I've booked the whole of next week off work - well, why not? There has been a slight change of plan though - my friend's car, which was going to be our transport, burst into flames while his wife was driving it one day last week. Fortunately, no-one was injured. Phew.

Despair

There seems to be something about football (or soccer, if you must) that brings out the worst in people in this country.

Last night should have been a night of celebration and joyousness about a Scottish football team achieving heights unknown in recent years. But sadly a handful of alcohol-fuelled nutjobs had to go and spoil the party.

Farewell, Phantom Dan

Danny Federici
January 23, 1950 – April 17, 2008

(Q - (F + D)) + PR

Got my tickets booked for (Queen - (Freddie + Deacy)) + Paul Rodgers at the Glasgow SECC in October. So that's Queen and Springsteen within a six-month period. Not bad, huh? Now, if we can just get the Beatles back together...

Oooooh.

Does this work outside of the UK?

C-Lebrity

Once you get used to the fact that it's Queen + Paul Rodgers*, this is quite promising for the new album...



* More accurately, it's (Queen - (Freddie + Deacy) ) + Paul Rodgers.

Not Long Now

I'm not sure it's healthy to be this excited, but I can't help it...

Britain's Got Talent

You won't find much evidence to support that statement on the TV show of that name, or on The X Factor, or any of those other godawful shows.

But on YouTube - which, as I think we can all agree, is largely filled with crap - it's occasionally possible to unearth a real gem. This, I believe, is a case in point.

Absolutely the last Testicle Game post ever*

I know, I promised I wouldn't do any more of these. But this afternoon I saw Annie Lennox on TV, and it came to me...

Eurythmics: There Must Be an Angel (Playing With My Testicle)**.

* Probably.
**Which - I guess - means I have to allow the Regina Spektor one after all. It's only fair.

It's About Time

I have a good feeling about this...

Round Two

I forgot this one*.

Queen: Sheer Testicle Attack

Talking of Queen...

*I'm not going to do any more of these, I promise.

The Testicle Game

Ignore the following unless drunk.

I invented a new game today. Think of a song with the word 'Heart' in the title. Then replace 'Heart' with 'Testicle'. Take it in turns to come up with song titles, and the winner is whoever comes up with the title that gets the biggest laugh.

To play this game, you will need the following:

Lots of alcohol. Er, that's it.

Here are a few possibilities:

Yes: Owner of a Lonely Testicle
Bonnie Tyler: Total Eclipse of the Testicle
Billy Ray Cyrus: Achy Breaky Testicle
Elvis Presley: Wooden Testicle
Blondie: Testicle of Glass

but tonight's runaway winner, by virtue of being simultaneously funny and slightly sinister:

My Testicle Belongs to Daddy

I'm really, really sorry about all of this

Diary

Whilst rooting around in a drawer this afternoon, I found the diaries I kept while I was in prison. I always had the idea at the back of mind that one day I might put them into the form of a blog. Today, I started.

Random

For no reason other than 'I like lists', here is a list of the first 10 songs I heard when I put my iPod on random earlier today.

1. Ryan* Adams - Gonna Make You Love Me
2. Michael Jackson - People Make The World Go 'Round
3. Queen - In the Lap of the Gods
4. The Tears - Fallen Idol
5. Daniel Lanois - Sometimes
6. Beatles - Paperback Writer
7. Queen - The Miracle
8. Bruce Springsteen - Downbound Train
9. Emmylou Harris - Michelangelo
10. Crowded House - Distant Sun

That's about a 90% accurate reflection of my musical tastes - not bad for 'random'.

* Ryan. Not Bryan.

Oopsy

Note to self: If you will insist on talking about people behind their back (and apparently you will), first make the effort to ensure that they are not standing behind your back at the time.

Revenge

Call me twisted, but this is the funniest thing I've seen in ages.

Weekend Update

A Saturday night in the pub, and the staff outnumber the customers. It must be the end of January. Last night there were three of us sitting at the bar, and for quite a long time, that was it. A tumbleweed blowing across the floor would not have looked out of place.

Other weekend stuff... I watched the Sweeney Todd movie. Johhny Depp has moved on from his Pirates impersonation of Keith Richards, so now we get his David Bowie impersonation. Great movie though, even managing to overcome my mild aversion to musicals. I say 'mild aversion'. Generally, I'd rather plunge a fork into my left testicle than watch a musical.

And another thing. I'm sure those nice people* at HM Revenue & Customs deliberately send out their 'requests' for money at the end of the working week, in order that they will arrive on your doorstep on a Saturday morning when you can't do anything about it, such as phone them to complain. Bastards.

* Bastards. Did I say that already?

In The Red

Now, I wouldn't normally go plugging a book that I haven't even read yet. And I haven't read this one yet. I've had a quick skim through it, and my mum assures me that it's very good. But then, she thinks River City is good, so perhaps her judgment is not entirely trustworthy.

The reason I mention the book is that, well, it's not every day a book is published wherein some of the characters are real people who you actually know. In real life. Albeit with names changed to protect the innocent, or otherwise.

The book is basically the author's diary of a year spent trying to clamber down from a mountain of debt. Along the way, there are mentions of her cousin Verity and Verity's partner Stuart.

Stuart (not his real name) is in fact, one of my colleagues (and best friend) from work. And the incident recounted in the book where 'Stuart' inadvertently exposes himself to a neighbour - who just happens to be a famous Scottish rock musician* - is completely true. I am reliably informed.

* I dare not say which famous Scottish rock musician. But there aren't that many who still live in Scotland, and are still making records, and are known outside of Scotland. Feel free to take a guess at it.

I am Bell-End

I enjoyed the movie I Am Legend today. Despite the use of generally unconvincing CGI effects this was still a corking good film. Will Smith was great - outacted by a dog, but still great. There was a neat touch right at the start of the movie, by the way of the name of the doctor who claimed to have found a cure for cancer. I won't spoil it for you.

Also, take a look (and listen) at this.

Happy New Year

I hope that 2008 brings you health, happiness and anything else you might wish for yourself. But mostly, I hope it brings you - and me, and everyone else - peace.

The Five Songs of Christmas

Yeah, I know. Ideally it would be twelve - but I can't think of twelve Christmas songs that I can hear without wanting to punch somebody in the face. Five, I can just about manage.

If I'm honest, this first one is only here for comedy value, and the impressive feat of incorporating 'subtle' references to 'bell end' and 'ringpiece' into a Christmas song.



And I don't care what anyone says, this is still the best band in the world. I can't wait to see them again in May next year. Tickets are booked.



And I'll let the next three speak for themselves. Merry Christmas.

iWant

Curse you, Steve Jobs and all your satanic Apple minions. I didn't even want one of your iPhones until I saw your damn TV ads today. It's not as if I need one - after all, I already have a phone* and an iPod** - but I want it, dammit. When those ads appeared on the screen, it was all I could do to stop myself from having a quick fiddle with myself, such was my level of lusty desire.

Er, I think I'm going to leave that there.

In other news, I started - and finished - my Christmas shopping this afternoon. I had the whole lot done and dusted in under thirty minutes. And that's including the ten-minute wait at the perfume counter.

What else...? Oh yeah. I'm using my time off to indulge myself in what I like to refer to as Whofest 07 (and possibly 08). I've been downloading and watching all the Tom Baker-era episodes of Doctor Who. Still got loads to watch, but I'm getting through them pretty rapidly. Tomorrow: The Talons of Weng Chiang.

* One of those Motorola RAZR jobbies. A triumph of aesthetics over 'making something that actually works properly'.
** I love my iPod. We are quite inseperable.

Out of Office

"I am currently out of the office until Monday 7th January 2008. If you have an urgent enquiry, I won't be around to help, so you're just gonna have to suck it up."

It felt really good typing that - of course, the wording on the second sentence wasn't exactly what I put in my actual out-of-office message, and in no way represents my actual attitude. Not much, anyway.

My last day at work was Friday, but I've been far too busy relaxing to do any blogging until now. Three weeks off... I love it!

Something Special

I should have mentioned this before, but better late than never. The support act for Crowded House last week was one Duke Special. Nope, me neither. As is the lot of the support act, Duke received a lukewarm response from the audience, but I was intrigued enough to seek out some of his stuff on the web. And I'm glad I did - I think this song, Freewheel, is rather beautiful. I hope you like it too.



And this is good too.



And if you enjoyed either of those... well, you know how YouTube works, right?

It's Only Natural

In my list of Crowded House songs, I missed one out. I'd love to be able to say that this was the song that was playing when I lost my virginity. But it wasn't. Not quite. But for the subsequent five or six times, there it was. I guess that's why I love this band so much.

Crowdies!

Crowded House were brilliant last night. Over two hours of top-quality music, plus a nice line in between-song banter. They played a few songs from their new album, and of course, a whole lot of old favourites like Weather With You, Four Seasons in One Day, Distant Sun, Fall at Your Feet, Don't Dream It's Over, Better Be Home Soon and (as they say in the ads) many more.

When they came back onstage for one of their encores, Neil Finn said, "There are so many songs we could play". Too true. It looks like this reunion is set to continue - there were (near) promises of a new album and tour in 2008. If they do come back, I'll be there.

Old

Looking forward to Friday night, and going to see the reformed Crowded House in concert*. You remember them, don't you? You know, they did that song about the weather. And the other one that went "hey now, hey now, don't dream it's over". Like almost every other band who broke up ten or twenty years ago, they're back. Which is great news for me, because I thought I'd missed my chance to see them play live.

The problem I have is that, when I mention this to many of my younger co-workers, their level of enthusiasm is less than might be hoped for. In fact, zero. Not because they have anything against Crowded House, but because they are too young to remember them from the first time around. "But they only broke up a mere ten years ago," I'll say. "Yes, when I was a mere twelve years old," they'll reply. Dammit. It makes me feel so old.

* All-seated, naturally. I'm not one for this "standing-up" nonsense.

Rock on

Doctor Doctor

I should have thought of posting this earlier.

And this.

Weekend stuff

It's been quite an eventful weekend - by my standards, at least. One of the highlights for me was the Doctor Who segment of the annual Children In Need telethon. If you didn't see it, the picture should tell you pretty much everything you need to know (if you're a fan, anyways).

And then there was the football. Scotland coming painfully close to qualifying for Euro 2008. Close, but no cigar. There can't be any complaints about the way the team played though. The plan for yesterday had been to watch the game on TV in the pub, conveniently situated across the road. Inconveniently, the pub no longer gets the Sky Sports channels. And so began the trek to find a pub which (a) was screening the match and (b) actually had space to accommodate a couple more people. We finally found one, although we were standing right at the door, with a pillar slightly restricting our view of the screen. But still.

And then, the jewel in the crown. Back to the aforementioned pub-across-the-road, to attend a fundraising event for the local womens' volleyball team. Which was nice. Really. Very nice.

Get 'Em Out

Anyone want to guess what's the most popular download out of tonight's shows on British television?

Could it possibly be "Trinny and Susannah Undress The Nation", in which our eponymous heroines assist women around the country with their bra-related issues? Why yes, it just might. Apparently, it's OK to show unfettered boobies on TV before the 9pm watershed, as long as it's in the context of factual programming. If this sounds like a complaint, it certainly isn't. But do we have to call them 'tits'? Seriously?

Oh yes I can (can)

This is what happens when my work colleagues have a little too much time on their hands.

Greetings, gadget fans

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, the greatest invention in the world. Ever.

Well, possibly. It's a DVD player, as the sharper amongst you may have noticed. But it's more than that. See that little grey flap on the right? Open that up, and underneath is a USB port. To which you can attach a USB flash drive or an external hard drive*. And then you can watch all of those movies and TV shows you've downloaded** off the net without having to go through the inconvenience of burning them to a CD or DVD. Isn't that clever?

Yes, it is. And check out the price. You'd be a fool not to.

* And maybe even an iPod, but I haven't tried that yet.
** Illegally, most likely. But I won't tell.

52 Weeks Later

Difficult as it might seem to believe, a whole year has passed since I returned to work. And I still haven't been fired, or even disciplined*. Which is fairly encouraging.

There have been a lot of changes over the last twelve months. The development team I originally joined is now a completely different team. My boss and I are the only ones who were on the team a year ago.

And then there's the takeover by Sage. Although that hasn't made much noticeable difference so far. But it's still early days.

Anyway, I'm still enjoying being back, despite having to deal with the occasional nightmare client. It's obviously not possible to start naming any of them here, of course. At this point I was going to drop some very heavy hints, but I chickened out. For now.

* At least, not in a work-related context.

The World Isn't Fair

Gee, Al - thanks for the scoop.

I bought myself an exercise bike last week. One of those things where you pedal furiously, but don't actually go anywhere. You know, just like life in general.

The exercise bike, I figured, was ideal for someone like me. I can place the bike directly in front of the computer, and watch my favourite TV shows while exercising. After all, there's no need to let a healthy lifestyle encroach on my primary leisure pursuit.

I felt quite proud of myself on the first day, when I worked up quite a sweat, and according to the electronic readout, burnt off 300 calories. I cycled - without moving an inch - over 4km. I have no idea what 4km is in miles, but it sounds quite good.

300 calories however, I later discovered, is equivalent to a packet of peanuts. That's right, a packet of peanuts. How in the purple fuck can a packet of peanuts contain 300 calories? That's ridiculous, surely? Peanuts are insignificant little things, hence the phrase "My name as Al, and I get paid peanuts".

Dammit. Time to get pedalling. It's a good thing Heroes and Prison Break are back in a couple of weeks. It'll make this exercise nonsense a little more bearable.

Fame at last

Went to see Ricky Gervais' Fame show at the SECC last night, and had a thoroughly good time. He's not one of the old school comedians, who can improvise or draw on a vast catalogue of gags - but with an hour's worth of meticulously scripted material, he's a fine comic performer.

His support act, Will Smith, was good too. No, not that one.

And the seats? In terms of location, couldn't have been much better. Front row, just slightly right of centre. Spectacularly uncomfortable, though. And the forty minute wait to get out of the car park after the show was a bit of a pisser too.

But all in all, a great night out. If you want a rough idea of the show's content, click here. Just don't expect great video or audio quality.

School's In

I feel sorry for the kids. You remember them, the little characters who go to school. Well, most of them. As if it's not bad enough that, living in this country, they get the shortest summer holidays in Europe, on top of that they have the weather to contend with. The weather which, this year, has properly screwed them over.

After a rather tight-fisted six weeks* of - at best mediocre, but on the whole.... shite - weather, they went back to school this week. And true to form, the minute they're back to being cooped up in the classroom, wouldn't you just know it, the sun has got his hat on. Hip hip hip hooray. Today was the hottest day of the year** in some parts of Scotland, and it certainly felt like it to me while I was sitting in an aircon-free office, sweating like Gary Glitter watching Kindergarten Cop.

* Six weeks? I've had farts that have lasted longer than that.
** I know that's not saying much, but it was noticeable.

There and back again (by lunchtime)

Had a hospital appointment in Edinburgh today. That's a two-hour journey for what turned out to be a five-minute consultation which could have just as easily have been conducted by phone. It boiled down to this:

• How's the ankle been since last time?
• Much the same really, bit more movement. The hydrotherapy is helping.
• Any pain?
• No.
• Can you come back in six months?
• Yes.

On the plus side, the earliness and, er, shortness of the appointment meant that I was back home by 12:30pm, just in time to have lunch and do very little for the rest of the day.

I blame Ricky Gervais

I can't shift these Ricky Gervais tickets for Edinburgh Castle (which I bought before finding out that he was playing Glasgow the night before). They've been on eBay for two days, but not so much as a nibble so far. I wonder what's putting people off? Could it be anything to do with his less than spectacular performance at the Diana memorial concert....?

Worth the wait

At last. Went to see The Simpsons Movie today. I guess it was impossible for any film to stand up to such massive expectations, but it came very, very close. Actually, and I'm not proud of this, but I was laughing even before the movie started, at the sight of a kid in the audience who was almost the double of Üter. Fortunately the following 87 minutes frequently made me laugh even harder.

Just one thing... where was Sideshow Bob?

I blame Michael Fish

We never had these problems when he was in charge of the weather. Well, apart from the occasional unforseen hurricane.

I'm not impressed with the weather we've been having lately. I take 2 weeks off work, and the sun doesn't come out once. The second I go back to work, wouldn't you know, the sun is splitting the sky. Dirty fiery bastard of a thing.

And just to top it off, our head office is in Oxfordshire, in one of the towns particularly badly affected by the flooding. Which had a fairly negative impact on my ability to connect to the office network when working from home yesterday. Although nothing like as negative an impact as on all the people whose homes were flooded.

Unusual turnaround, really. At the weekend, while large areas of England disappeared under water, people in Scotland were sunbathing naked in their gardens. Er, some of them were. I'd imagine.

It's YouTube, you tube

I could be wrong - I have been before - but I am fairly certain that this is what the Internet was invented for.

Or, being more sensible, this is a real treat...

Or, gravitating back towards the stupid (as is my wont)...

I just wish they'd let Randy go on a little bit longer...

Quiz Night

I'm not long back from quiz night at the pub. Our team did rather well, scoring 84 out of 100 overall. Not bad considering that I had to do the first round on my own. 19 out of 20, since you ask. It's only my third week back at the quiz after a gap of almost 3 years and 4 months, so don't blame me if I'm a little rusty.

84 out of 100 is a pretty respectable score all the same, landing us second place this week. In the old days, that kind of score would have won it easily. But on this occasion, we were beaten by a team of students (pah!) who got 90.

We would have gotten away with it, if it hadn't been for those pesky kids.

Monkey Wash Donkey Rinse

I'm fairly certain that my image has been used on the internet without my consent.

Take a look at the top picture on this page - it loops through three different images. You're looking for the picture with a guy in a stripey shirt on the left. Got it? OK, over on the other side of the pic is a guy in a white shirt standing at the bar. He's a mate of mine. Now go left a bit - there's a guy sitting down, with his head partially obscured by the beer taps. That's me, I'm certain of it. I'd recognise the side of my own head anywhere... particularly when it spends so much time in that place.

Anyways, I don't recall giving my permission for my image to be used. Actually, I don't even recall the photo being taken. I do seem to become forgetful whenever I go over there, for some reason.

No reason for the title, other that it's the song I was listening to while typing.

An idea

Car manufacturers, gawd bless them, have come up with this great idea. It's basically a breathalyser* fitted to the vehicle. So, if you get behind the wheel reeking of alcohol, the whole thing just locks up and prevents you from driving it. Clever, or what?

Could we extend the same principle to computers? What if, before attempting to access eBay or Amazon you had to breathe into a little tube to prove your sobriety. So, if you'd just come home from the pub, pished out of your mental heid, you'd be barred from frittering away your hard-earned cash on frivolous nick-nacks. Imagine the amount of grief that could be prevented.

This is in no way related to the Mr Potato Head posts from a few days ago.

* That's with an 'S', not a 'Z'.

Huuuuh? Huuuuuuuuuuuh?

The world has officially gone mad. Insane in the membrane. Insane in the brain.

The proof is here.

Huh?

I don't understand how this has happened. When I first got hooked on this Internet malarkey, all those years ago, I signed up with CompuServe. And due to what I can only assume to be some massive oversight, my CompuServe homepage is still active - a good 6 or more years since I cancelled my account.

They must love me.

So excited

Christmas comes early... and I almost did too, when I saw this publicity shot for this year's Doctor Who Christmas special.

The Doctor and Kylie. It's almost too good to be true.

You know you want it

Admit it. You want this. You do. You know you do. You want it bad. I know I do.















And you can't have one without the other, right?

Seven

Next time the BBC presents coverage of a live music event of the like of Live Earth, they may want to consider using a slight delay on transmission. If nothing else, it would save Jonathan Ross from having to apologise every five minutes for bad language employed by the onstage talent. Particularly when that includes such notorious potty-mouths as Chris Rock and Ricky Gervais. And Madonna. And, er, Phil Collins.

I counted at least three of George Carlin's seven words you can never say on television, including arguably the worst one*, well before the 9pm watershed.

It's a fucking disgrace.

* You know, the Oedipal one.

It's not what you think...

...but would you feel comfortable asking for this magazine at your local newsagent's?

I found this whilst running a perfectly innocent search on Google Images. Perfectly innocent, I tell you.

Eye Eye

Went for an eye test this morning. I figured it was a good idea since I spend so much time staring vacantly at computer screens - the best part of 25 years, in fact. Between that and the old wives tale of "you'll go blind if you keep doing that, young man", my eyes should be utterly screwed by now.

The good news is that my eyesight is absolutely fine. It's nice to know that there's at least one part of my body that isn't a crumbling ruin.

Yippee-ki-yay

Who'd have thought? Just when we thought that it was compulsory for this year's crop of movie sequels to stink the place out, along comes Die Hard 4.0, or Live Free or Die Hard, or whatever the heck they're calling it. Anyways, whatever you call it, it doesn't stink. Not even a little bit. In fact, it's better than the last one, and at least as good as -if not better than - the one before that. Not as good as the first one, obviously.

Incidentally, tonight's scheduled movie on STV was to have been Die Hard 2. You know, the one with the terrorists at the airport. In the wake of the attempted attack on Glasgow Airport at the weekend, it's not being shown. While we're on the subject, it's reported that US law enforcement officials received warnings two weeks ago of terror attacks in Glasgow and Prague, the Czech Republic, against "airport infrastructure and aircraft".

Gee, guys, thanks for the heads-up.

Work It

This week I came a little closer to full-time working. I currently have two hydrotherapy sessions per week, on Monday and Thursday afternoons. The only way I can get to the hospital in time for my appointment is to work from home on those two mornings, which is just what I've been doing. Working from home is great - you fall out of your bed, and almost instantly you're at your workplace, without any need for that irksome commuting malarkey.

The other three days I'm working in the office, which strikes me as quite a good balance. Much as I like working from home, I think I'd feel somewhat isolated if I did that all the time.

But enough of work. After tomorrow, I'm on holiday for two weeks. Woo, and furthermore, hoo!

Tony's dead, but...

Gordon's Alive!!!










I just had to say that. Sorry.

Yes, it's another Doctor Who post

Uh-oh. Only one more episode of the current run of Doctor Who. After that we'll have to wait almost six months for the Christmas special. How will we cope?

My personal solution is to start watching the old episodes, from the glory days of Tom Baker. I'm working my way through those, currently on Terror of the Zygons. Just in case that's not enough, I'm also downloading the adventures of some of the other Doctors; Troughton, Davison and McCoy. Can't quite bring myself to start watching Colin Baker yet, but maybe one day.

Of course, getting hold of the early episodes is difficult, thanks the the BBC's policy of wiping a lot of the tapes in the 70s. Jaw-droppingly stupid, even by BBC standards. Fortunately though, the Whovian fan base is sufficiently obsessive to have taken the trouble to reconstruct many of the lost episodes using a combination of stills, home recordings, and animation.

For the moment though, I'm sticking with the Tom Baker years, and looking forward to the episodes where Leela appears. Uh, not for any particular reason... no, really.

Longest Day

I love this time of year. It's almost 10:30pm and it's still light outside. OK, not what you'd call broad daylight, but not much darker than a dull afternoon (and there are plenty of those).

It's all downhill from here.

Ricky

The Ricky Gervais show at the SECC in Glasgow in a couple of months is, unsurprisingly, sold out. Hurrah, then, for eBay. Front row tickets, centre stage? That'll do nicely, thanks.

OK, they cost a fortune, but hey, it's only money.

Diminishing Returns

Wasted approximately 90 minutes of my life earlier this evening watching Hostel: Part II. It sucked out loud.

Seriously, I'm trying to think of something good to say about it. OK, well, at least it had the decency to be short.

Not quite short enough, unfortunately.

Man from DelMonte

The above named band played at the pub on Saturday night, for the second time inside a month. Dreadful name, great band.

You have to admire a band whose set includes covers of songs by everyone from Leonard Cohen to Madonna, from Otis Redding to Tenacious D. They do a nice sideline in crude comedy too, as evidenced by their re-working of the lyrics to "Sitting on the Dock of the Bay".

Think about it. I reckon you can figure it out*.

* You need a clue? Pffft. What rhymes with 'Sitting', 'Dock' and 'Bay'?

The Kingsize of Comedy

Farewell then, Bernard Manning. Many people considered you the most offensive man on the planet, and thought you to be a racist misogynist homophobe. Others claimed you were the funniest man in Britain.

At the very least, you didn't single out any particular group. You ripped into black people, gays, the disabled, Indians, Pakistanis, lesbians, mothers-in-law, and any other women who didn't fall into either of the two previous categories. Oh, and the Scottish (probably). In fact, pretty much anyone who wasn't Bernard Manning.

Your critics clearly were missing the point. Your jokes were just that - jokes. No-one could actually hold the views you so often spoke of. Right?

Right?

Bernard?

Guess Who

Oh. My. God.

OK, it was the worst kept secret in decades. But still. It was edge-of-seat TV. And by a mile, the best episode of Doctor Who since our old friend came back to us.

Where's My (insert item here)

Grrr. I hate losing things. Unfortunately, being a highly disorganised kind of guy, I lose things all the time. The annoying part of it is, despite having tons of crap I'll never use or need again, I never lose any of that stuff. Only the good stuff goes missing.

For instance. If just one CD from my collection has to go missing, you can bet your bottom dollar it won't be "Million Seller" by the Pooh Sticks. By the way, they were having a laugh with that title, obviously. Hands up anyone else who owns "Million Seller". Hmmmm, nope, I'm not seeing a million hands.

Nope, if just once CD has to go missing, it will be the one you love most. You know, the one with the song you want them to play at your funeral*. Which brings me to my next point.

What song would you want played at your funeral? I've narrowed it down to these few...

• Born To Run
• Bridge Over Troubled Water (maybe the Johnny Cash version)
• Desperados Under The Eaves

In other 'news', I've been home a year. Fastest year of my life.

* Cheery fucker, aint I?

Things Not To Do In Glasgow When You're Dead

After enjoying a Friday evening in Glasgow, you may come to regret your decision to cut short your part in the festivities in order to get the last train home. Seriously, don't do it. Don't even think about it. Find someone to stay with overnight (who, and how you go about this is entirely up to you). Book a hotel room, even. But for the love of God, or Buddha, or Allah, or Graham the Giant Pixie, don't get the last train.

In case you didn't know, or couldn't have guessed, the last train is full - and I mean full - of Very Drunk People. You'll know they're Very Drunk People, because even though you may have had a good few drinks yourself, this lot will still appear to be completely off their respective tits.

If you really can't avoid getting on the last train, there are a couple of things you can do to prepare yourself. Firstly, buy some earplugs. You'll need these, unless you like the idea of spending the journey listening to some very loud, very tuneless and very sweary singing.

Secondly, unless you have the name of a very good dry-cleaning service, take a large polythene sheet. You'll thank me for this piece of advice when the 25-stone guy with the mega-sized kebab and the unsteady hands decides to sit next to you. Trust me on this one.

Splish splash

A handy tip for the future, should you ever find yourself using crutches and attending hydrotherapy sessions.

If you’re using a crutch (or two) to assist while getting into the pool, and the crutch (or crutches) in question (or questions) are the adjustable sort with holes along the sides… Don’t neglect to consider the possibility of the lower part of the crutch (or crutches) filling up with water.

The funny thing is, you may not notice the difference immediately afterwards. You might walk some distance with water sloshing around in there without even knowing it. Perhaps later that same day, you might go for a light aperitif* at a licenced establishment of your choice, propping your crutch (or crutches) upright against the bar. You could even walk (or stagger) home, with your waterlogged extra legs.

It’s just possible that having arrived safely home, you might decide to close a door a few feet away from you. But rather than expending the effort of walking over to the door, perhaps you’ll decide to use your crutch to close it… tilting the crutch to the horizontal, and watching in sheer drunken bewilderment as a couple of litres of water start pouring out onto the carpet. Oops, you might say. Or, What The Fffff...... Or some other word (or words) of your choice.

* Six or seven pints, say.

Interesting Times

We recently received some interesting and - to most of us - unexpected news at work. We've been bought over by another, much larger, software company. You can read the full story here. It's still early days at the moment, but hopefully this will turn out to be a good thing. There are no plans for any changes, restructuring or redundancies at the moment, but who knows what's ahead? Guess we just have to wait and see. There's currently a 90-day review period, after which they'll decide what action, if any, they feel needs to be taken. Hopefully nothing major.

Bloody Hell

Yesterday morning, I had a blood pressure check for the first time in a few months. Apparently my BP was 'very high', despite the various magic potions I've been prescribed to keep it in check. But then,

1. I have a sneaking suspicion that I suffer from 'white coat syndrome', and the very knowledge of an impending BP check may in itself have pushed it up a few notches.
2. I may have inadvertently failed to take my medication for a few days last week.
3. I was driven to the surgery by my mum, and that would put anybody's blood pressure up*.

* I fully realise that I am in no position to be critical of anyone else's driving. And yet, I just did.