I have noticed two programmes tonight — the first about penises, the second about the music of James Bond. I guess James Bond used his penis a lot, so it’s related somehow.
What the hell, dude. There’s a link between housework and reduced risk of breast cancer, but perhaps not with normal physical exercise?
I don’t cook, but I don’t mind doing the dishes or laundry. I’m not that great at vacuuming and I’m seriously bad at ironing. So what are my chances there?
Freakin’ German scientists.
Here’s an experimental theme. I thought I wrote perhaps too much nonsense (but I can’t help myself), so I’m trying out this “one category’s posts in main area, the rest of the posts in the sidebar” idea for the index page. Everyone may not like this format, but I think it suits me for now. The layout is pretty much the same… except for the bottom. The bottom bit’s different.
Since I’m not an artist by any definition, that upset snowman is about the best you’ll get from me in terms of illustration, especially since my graphics tablet is still packed away in a box. I’m still waiting for full-on snow, so I can actually make a real snowman. Although I’ve been instructed to make it in the back garden in case the neighbours think Neil’s mum has gone completely potty. I have no idea what the fuss is about.
Um, I also refreshed Twisted Sockster a little as part of this general re-design. And that’s it.
I’m actually quite mad to read that a Catholic bishop has rejected a request by Spain’s Islamic Board to allow Muslims to pray in the Cordoba cathedral. Sure, there are extremists, but they come from ALL faiths. A place of worship is a place of worship, I don’t think the Islamic Board is asking that Muslims put out a call to prayer during Mass or anything. A lot of people go into churches and places like that to think and maybe do a little navel-gazing — I think quiet contemplation is quiet contemplation, and spirituality shouldn’t discriminate based on professed religion.
It would be very galling if I went into a temple or mosque and wasn’t allowed to sit and be alone with my thoughts because I wasn’t a member of that faith.
They’ll probably also bring up ‘security’ concerns as a reason.
Organised religion is stupid. It divides.
When Neil told me he’d found a bright green Peugeot for sale, the first thing I asked was how bright it was. I do not want to be driving around in a French version of the QQ (“young, peppy and cool”).
My favourite thing about the car is that there’s nothing worth stealing. It runs, seems fairly efficient, and even people who don’t freakin’ drive are going to have better car stereos than we do (think fully analogue, dials, and a loose faceplate that rattles and annoys the living shit out of me).
I’m still thinking of a suitably tough name for my green mini-monster. Something along the lines of The Destroyer. 1124ccs of Pure Fury has already been floated a number of times, but it’s quite a mouthful when introducing the car to your friends. Mad Max? Conan the Barbarian? Gabrielle the sidekick? Hercules? Steroid Steve? Roid Rage?
- met Stuart for lunch in Glasgow before he jets off on his next big adventure (do not ever, ever go to Oko Express if you’re looking for Japanese cuisine)
- bought a car (a small car, so I’m thinking it needs a macho name, something that makes one think of the Amazon)
- met up with Derek and Indira for a coffee in Glasgow
- had dinner with my cousin and his family
- did sweet FA on Christmas Eve (was terribly impressed with Neil’s mum, who was simultaneously preparing Christmas AND Christmas Eve dinner)
- drank wine with Neil and opened one present after the clock struck midnight (he got me the new Take That album! Squeeeeeeee!)
- waited for his sister to come along, and we opened our presents (I’m not used to this multiple present thing — it’s so appreciated, but I feel so… overindulged, and I didn’t really gift to that extent, either)
- chilled out until it was time for dinner (at 3pm… something else I’m not used to)
- ate turkey (!), pigs in blankets (!), Brussels sprouts (!), mushrooms (!), two different kinds of potatoes (!), carrots and corn (!), and raspberry trifle (!!)
- chilled out till we headed to Neil’s pal Brian’s (and they gave me The Happy Hooker and a Family Guy DVD)
Orange Friedman, Vatvat, Michel, and Loosipher LaGrand
wish one and all a very Merry Christmas!
Neil and I do, too. Have a safe festive season.
If you have patience and a geeky way of problem-solving, you’ll work out Who owns the fish? without too much hassle (via Neatorama). I made the mistake of sending it to a few people in the office, and three of them gave up. Obviously not geeks. My solution after the jump (no cheating).