10 Things I Hate

1. News presenters who wave their hands around 
2. Musicians who start you clapping then leave you there 
3. Fish knives 
4. That camera angle in movies where you are supposed to believe somebody can see themselves in the mirror but there's no camera in sight 
5. Live albums 
6. Applause during rather than after songs 
7. Sirens on songs, particularly when driving
8. Ticketmaster 
9. Taxis that are early. (Or late)
10. Happy Days, particularly Potsy.

Car 6

There are people who increasingly think that Jimmy Carr should be piloting Thunderbird 6.

Best Intentions

How much of your afternoon should you actually spend working on new inventions?

I fear I may have overdone it on my solar-powered winter bird bath defroster.

Mission Impossible: Coast Protocol

Yesterday I got trapped by the tide.

I walked out on the sunniest October day in recorded history and found a dry rock.

That was my mission.

Whereas years ago I might have got out my crab hook (what a cruel instrument - I was never comfy with it, but then I wasn't big on shrimp nets either so you takes your choice), there was a new game in town.

It wasn't busy and I was high on crack cocaine so I didn't really notice that the people I was sharing Tynemouth Longsands with were largely walking in the opposite direction.

I tramped across the rocks patting myself on the back for my nimble craghopping expertise, my years of experience at the British coast paying dividends to anyone who noticed.

No-one did.

I tutted that less (entirely imaginary) mortals might hesitate, slip, and I trotted on cockily finding myself the best barnacle coated rock (there was a clue right there) that delivered both dryness at an acceptable price along with comfort for my bot.

I chose to accept it.

5 minutes.

It was really chance that I turned round.

I could easily have been there another 20.

The rocks had gone, the sea had returned and there was 30 yards between me and the rest of the sunbathers in dry freedom.

Ordinarily I'd offer you some extended metaphor about how we are all trapped by the tide. But there was no time to lose. (And I'd really be referring to your life not mine).

And this is my blog. Write your own.

It was off with the shoes, up with the trouser legs and away, making a note to advise everyone coming in the opposite direction that the tide was actually going out.

As a joke.

It's times like that you're glad you don't carry your mobile phone.

Because someone was about to get very wet.

Quick question for you....

What am I like?

Helloronic

If there is anyone out there who is still stuck on the concept of irony (Hello America!), then I have news for you.

Julian Assange's autobiography is about to be published against his will.

There you go.

No colourful qualification from me required. Though if you doubt the premise, check this old fave out..

I have just heard UK comedienne Jo Brand on the radio with usual whinging Bheaujolais about the prevalence of heckling at comedy clubs.

I don’t know what multiverse she is trapped in but my experience of live comedy in the last decade (which gentle reader, is considerable), is that you are much more likely to be on the receiving end of abuse during a live comedy gig than giving it. They literally step out of the fourth wall and get you. Like the monkey in the cupboard. You’re sitting there minding your own business, ticket stub in hand. They have no act. But they have you. And soon afterwards they have your name and occupation.

Hilarity is bound to ensue so surely telling them to fcuk off at that point can’t be called heckling?

We are not big on having a dedicated TV channels for comedy in the UK. It is weaved, woven throughout our lives with more invisible seams. With catgut.

It has a necessary role as the recycled canvas of your day. It might be nice to trade up (universal consciousness anyone?) but we simply don’t have a weapon like wit.

Fortunately Sky subscribers likely have access to the patented US gutrot that is The Comedy Channel.

The concept works well in America. Nice and straightforward. It is the Channel for Comedy.

Sorted.

But is this another definition of irony? Needing to know you are tuning into a comedy channel in order to have permission to laugh?

I must say it is confusing this irony thing isn’t it?

Y’all.

Bedtimes

I went to bed at a reasonable hour last night.

But I had a dream that I had actually not gone to bed until 4:30.

So I woke up absolutely knackered.

It's not really fair, is it?

New Things

Problem: Irritatingly slow computer

Job: Upgrade desktop computer by adding RAM.

Method: Youtube vid, 2 Gbs of memory (in addition to current 512Mb) for £46 (2-day delivery). Deep breath. Very nearly phoned computer man to come and do.

Fear factor - 3/10, one moment when I thought I'd split the motherboard, one moment when I thought it wasn't going to power up (forgot the press the rear on-switch).

Verdict. Brilliant - saved me buying a new computer. It's zipping along though as though it has somewhere else it needs to be. Anyone need an upgrade (no laptops)?

I'm here all week

Gordon Brown is facing more criticism - his ex-Chancellor now says that Brown thought the recession would be over in a few months.

And now there is more uncertainty over the new 50% tax rate. It turns out that the current Chancellor thought that "top band" was referring to Simon Cowell's latest ITV1 show.