» The Police

Not me, but the bro-in-law
Was trying to cross the road in his lovely native Sarf London. Got to a zebra crossing and, thinking 'Well, cars have to stop for me when I'm on one of these', strode out into the middle of the road.
Unfortunately, the speeding copcar hadn't realised his intention, and was forced to screech to a halt, and the WPC sat in the passenger seat flew forward and hit her head on the windscreen.
My brother in law, who is no friend of the folk in blue, calmly sauntered to the passenger side and tapped on the window. The visibly dazed WPC wound it down. 'Should've had yer seatbelt on, luv,' says bro-in-law and walks off. Priceless.
(Mon 26th Sep 2005, 12:56, More)

» I just don't get it

Tax IS taxing
I don't get but am legally obliged to go along with self-assessment. Politeness doesn't even come into it.
Every year I have to phone the bloodyfucking Revenue sobbing: 'How can I owe you that? It's more than I earned' only to find once again I'd ticked some box that I didn't even know existed.
Oo it makes me gibber - every time we see the first episode of Black Books where Bernard tries to avoid doing his tax return Mrs Bacon points at me and cackles: 'That's you, that is.' God damn the tax man, say I. That's done it. Angry now. Need BEER.
(Fri 1st Apr 2005, 15:47, More)

» Scars with history

Buster kneecap
I have an amusing little scar on my knee due to a tussle with a greenhouse I had when aged about 5-ish.
Exploring my grandparents' garden in search of hidden treasures I decided to enter the extremely dangerous-looking rotten wooden greenhouse. Cue the entire thing collapsing, leaving me standing in the doorway -still holding the door by its handle - where the frontage had collapsed around me like that scene in the Buster Keaton silent film. I was completely unharmed. That is until my mum came out to investigate the noise, saw the devastation and screamed. That made me jump, losing grip of the door handle and a pane of glass came free and sheared off the top of my left knee. Cheers mum.

People are always complaining about my length.
(Fri 4th Feb 2005, 15:53, More)

» Useless Information

A pedant writes
Oho - there is some disagreement over the origins of the word 'dude'. Some say it was originally coined by Oscar Wilde, who combined the words 'duds' [fancy clothing]and 'attitude'. Others argue that it just comes from 'duds'. But then there are people who claim US cowboys in the good ol' Wild West used the term to describe both horse kak and city dwelling folk. But I've never heard it in relation to camels. Not that I'd have reason to.
And Arsenal was orginally named after a place in London - Woolwich Arsenal, where guns n stuff used to be made. They moved to their north London home around 1912-13.
Still can't lick my elbow, though.

Edit: Oh, and 'posh' probably doesn't mean 'port out starboard home' as that story emerged in the 1930s, by which time 'posh' had already been in use for 20 years.
(Thu 17th Mar 2005, 16:36, More)

» Beautiful Moments

It's all lovely
1 Getting the right balance of cheese and chips at the pub when I went for lunch today - then swamping the lot with vinegar. Yum. I'm easily pleased.
2 Watching Mrs Bacon when she gets back from work and crashes out on the sofa [she works too hard for too little money]. If she could smile like that when she was awake the fluffiness would be unbearable. But that's what happens when you work too hard for too little. Her bosses don't even pay her for half of it, even though they promised to last year. Twunts.

Jeez - just realised that if stuff like that makes me happy my life must be somewhat lacking. Who'd be a freelance...

Edit: Late night Syd Barrett sessions should also get a mention. Every time a joy.
(Fri 11th Mar 2005, 15:05, More)