Back

Safe. No broken bones. Unlike my mate Tall Nick who's still in hopital in France with a broken pelvis. And two cracked neck vertebrae. That would spoil your week, wouldn't it? Skied into a rock, apparently.

So. Busy. Back soon with more things and stuff.

Meet the guest blogger

Uh, am I on? Pardon? Hullo?

Where? Oh. Hello. Nice to meet you all.

I'm the guest blogger.

My name's Malcolm. This is me:
















I've lived with the man in a crisis for a long time. A long, long, time.

He named me Malcolm. Not the most becoming name in the world, I don't suppose. Especially as I was named by accident.

I suppose I should explain.

It was one of those conversations shouted from room to room, between the crisis man and his wife.

She: "Do you want another coffee?"

He:"Of course, when do I ever not?"

"What?"

"YES!"

"Which mug are you using?"

"The green one with ridges"

"What?"

"The GREEN one with RIDGES"

"The green what?"

"MUG WITH RIDGES"

She exited the kitchen and entered the living room at this point, and said: "Who's Muggeridges?"

He replied, while watching the telly:"Hunh? What's Malcolm Muggeridge got to do with anything?"

And so Malcolm I became, and remain.

He mentions this story to guests sometimes. They usually look at him funny.

Occasionally they ask: "So, have all your mugs got names?"

He replies: "Don't be stupid, they're just mugs."

Haiku prize time!

Can't decide between Surly and I,TLV, so well done to both joint winners.

And a grateful highly commended to Jas and Lippy for their efforts; well done all!

Now I have the problem of awarding a virtual prize. If I was organized I would have thought of this already, but I'm not and I haven't.

*virtual hug and virtual air kiss while the audience applauds and I try and think of something*

Haiku New Year!

I just very nearly wrote a post about how nobody loves me and nobody visits any more and even fewer bother to comment and and and. I called my readers 'poppet' and said they weren't pulling their weight because I was visiting them and they weren't visiting me, and how I was upset about it.

How crass would that have been? Whew, close one. Narrow shave for all of us. The hand, feeds, that, bite, never, you: all that.

Righto. As you were.

Isn't the weather shit today? I'm worried that my precious, cherished satellite dish is going to plunge off the upstairs wall, cos the pointing on the brickwork up there isn't all it might be. I must get round to fixing that one day. What would I do if that happened? I'd have to read a book, or even talk to people. Or play a game.

*shudder*

So anyway, to the topic in hand.

I realise that I've sort of forgotten to menshun New Yr. Do you really want to hear about it now? It seems so long ago, doesn't it? Not really very interested now, I expect?

So, in order to be as entertaining as possible, very brief highlights in the form of .... haiku!

Feel free to play along! Remember, strictly 5,7,5 syllables!

Here are my first efforts, and I reserve the right to do some more later.

Champagne blind tasting
Is a good game for New Year
Fourteen is too much.

Do karaoke!
Unless you really can't sing
Like me and Nigel.

Go up to your bed
Early if you aren't worried
We will laugh at you.

Make sure the children
Don't stay up long after twelve
It will all go tits.

I will give a virtual prize for the best effort in the comments! Go on, join in!


*Update! This is the second effort, once I realised that haiku is 5,7,5 not 5,9,5. Duh. But see how cleverly I have edited all my efforts to fit the correct pattern!*

Electronics

I am drowning in electronic technology today. My office looks like an explosion in a spaghetti factory. If spaghetti were a bit thicker and black or grey or off-white. Oh, hang on, it is off-white. It doesn't have little digital black writing on it though, or stickers telling you how to wire a plug. Uh, metaphor too far? Thought so. Carry on.

As well as the PC, I have a new digickal camera plugged in. And a USB hub, a joystick for Child One, a printer/scanner/copier, a broadband modem, a screen, and a cordless keyboard. A phone/fax. A desklight. A fan heater for when it gets cold cos the heating is turned off during the day. And a new digickal palmcorder with which I will be recording myself skiing* in a Graham Bell off of Ski Sunday stylee. I dread sorting it all out because I am also thinking very seriously about upgrading the old PC upon which I am writing this. I am very short of memory - and in the PC too, it's my age (Ithangyoo). Are Dell any good? I seem to be able to get a very nice shiny bit of kit with more memory than I know what to do with and a flat monitor and all sorts of nice gubbins for not many pounds, shillings and pence.

It has now occurred to me that I must be very careful to remain strictly anonymous today: new electronic kit + going on holiday = burglars' paradise. But AHA! I mock your stupidity, Mr Burglar! Because I am taking it all with me! See how clever I am! Except the PC. But I haven't got the new one yet so AHA again! Well, I'm actually just taking the cameras, but even a stupid Mr Burglar wouldn't try and work out whom I am just for a USB hub and a joystick, shurely?

Actually, I think your average burglar would be too stupid to try and work out who I am by going through all the posts and adding up all the clues. I don't think anyone could do that. I may be wrong, and this is strictly not a challenge to try. Honest. Don't go working it out and putting it in the comments while I'm away. Please. That would be horrid of you.

I'll put the alarm on, anyway. And Next Door is a big chap and he knows I'm going away. I do the same for him when he goes.

Shit.

I'm going to worry now.


*I'm going skiing, did I mention?

Late Christmas

What do you reckon to my chances of fooling all my family and friends into thinking that Christmas is actually a few days later next year?

So I can, urm, do all my shopping in the sales?

I didn't get all that much cool stuff for Christmas - the LOML got me some nice things, but the best of the rest was the shiny palmcorder that I bought for myself. I got money, that's always welcome, but maybe a bit unimaginative. Am I being ungrateful?

My brother wins the shittest Christmas present prize for the eleventy-twelveth year straight. To add to previous years' hand-painted brace of enamel mugs, a la narrowboat-gypsy-chic stylee, which can't be put in the dishwasher and burn the crap out of your hand if you actually put a hot drink in them; a plastic modular tool shelf out of a catalogue (probably Pikeys-R-Us, or Sad-Act-With-No-Life-Savings-Club 1978) which was a lump of grey and red plastic with odd shaped holes in it; a hardback book on Monster Trucks, aimed at an educationally subnormal fourteen year old, which I received in my thirties; we can now add a 'build-your-own-cardboard-puzzle-skyscraper-lamp'. Which is a vaguely jigsawy-construction square carboard box about two feet high with pictures of four different skyscrapers on the sides. With a lamp socket in the bottom (bulb not included). Which is just what a civilised, erudite, cultured, educated, professional* forty year old father of two** had put just right at the top of his list from Santa.

For fuck's sake. And I had to smile and say oh how lovely we'll have fun making that up and once it's finished it'll be so useful as well how thoughtful.

The LOML got a infinity reflecting tealight set. Which is four tealights in a stand with a wonky mirror so it looks like a line of tealights going on for ever. If you bend right down to look into it. I think it might be in the dustbin already.

So, all in all, I was delighted when the LOML announced that she was going with her chums to Next at half four in the morning. I was still in bed, with a coffee, when she got back and we had Chrstmas all over again. Five pairs of jeans (only two going back) three smart stripey shirts to be worn untucked in a slightly taller Richard Hammond stylee, pants, socks, tank top (which are apparently trendy again, had you heard?) jumper. Ace. Better than the day itself.

And then we had a morning without the kids taking a few bits back to Marks' and I managed to get a couple of fab jumpers in the surfy snowboardy shop sales. They're ace too. They'll be brilliant for wearing around the resort when we go skiing.

We're going skiing in a couple of weeks. Did I mention? I'm dead excited. I reserve the right to mention this again, by the way. Probably lots. And lots.



*This is of course all a matter of opinion. It's my opinion and I'm right. Shut up.
**This bit is a matter of fact, however. Unfortunately.

Is that it?

Is it done and over? Christmas, I mean? And New Year, and all?

Do we just have to go back to work (in a new shirt) now?

Is that the only difference between before-Christmas and after-Christmas - a new shirt? With a red dot on the label?

Oh.

OK.


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In other news, I have discovered that Christmas is the time of sharp things. My Japanese carving knife, lovingly snicked and whished up and down the whetstone was as sharp as a razor. The tip of the mother in law's third finger found this out when it was lurking in the bottom the washing up. It was still bleeding on Boxing Day. The LOML's tongue was quite sharp at about that time.

But not as sharp as the little-icky-bit of turkey drumstick sinew* that somehow found its way through the entire stock-boiling-and-soup-cooking-and-liquidising process, right to its conclusion firmly impaled in the roof of my mouth. Ouchy.


*Seriously, what is that made out of? Surely they can make some sort of new super sharp but flexible material out of it, like Teflon or Kevlar or something? It's indestructible.