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.