Sunday, 28 February 2010

Mi Gustas (9)

I like...Cola Cubes!



Sweet, sweet, childhood memories. Popping into a shop, asking for a 'quarter' of boiled sweets, paying anything between 28p and 40p (a small fortune when I was a sprog) and sucking away until my teeth dissolved.

Out of all the sweet, Cola Cubes (now sometimes called Kola Cubes) were my favourite, and they still are. I am not a big fan of the drink, cola. But I love cola flavour sweets. The mix of acid and sugar gives me a rush that a diabetic can only envy. And I suppose I am still a big kid, only wanting the taste of sweet sherbet candy!

Saturday, 27 February 2010

Spring is coming

My nose twitches. Hayfever is round the corner, spring is here.

The birds sing the days get lighter.

Stocked up on honey, redbush and tissues.

At least there is the promise of sunlight!

Goodbye winter - I hope!

Friday, 26 February 2010

London Diary (18)

Hopes, dreams and a lack of heating.

I don't like it, but at 4am, everything was still. No matter how much I prodded, fiddled and banged, nothing. And so one free phone call and off I am to bed. The gas man will not be coming for a few hours and it is cold tonight.

My dreams were listless. Confusing too. I was wandering through the night, but without any purpose. Any sense of who I was and what I was doing. A metaphor for my life? I don't know. I was woken up when the gas man rang this morning.

Fatigue. I feel the strength zapped from my body. Life is not hard, the work I do is not back breaking, but it is thankless. Day, after day of mind numbing living. Get up, toilet, eat, chew the cud, go to work, eat some more, come back home and back to bed. Day after day, year after year. Is it worth it?

My tea was cold as I sipped it. Cold tea was never a pleasant thing I always tried to recreate the magic of spiced chai, but somehow, the combination of spices just never seemed right. Or maybe I should be using condensed milk.

You know, I really miss the taste of condensed milk. Great survival food, I once had a whole can to myself while trekking. This was back in the days when I was more hopeful about the world, a world filled with endless possibilities and the ability to swallow a can of cream without flinching. I may be the same person physically, but spiritually, within, I am a million miles removed from that man. Failure and drudgery have worn down my spirit with far greater effect than any physical demmand...

Thursday, 25 February 2010

Crossings of the River Thames 27: Southwark Bridge



February is a hilarious month in the life of Charles Michel Duke. At 28 days, the month passes by pretty quickly, and if you are not careful spring will burst into view before you know it! And always, I seem to be rushing around in February, attempting to make the year start with a bang. Of course, 2010 has started no differently from '09 or '08, in the sense that this is a very last minute visit to the riverside. Is this a worrying omen, or should I just get on with the bridge?



Southwark Bridge. Understated, currently covered in scaffold and one of the least used crossings in London. You would be hard pressed to find a traffic jam here. I am also willing to bet that many Londoners do not even know of its presence. And I really like it. It is a kooky crossing, evidence that despite the fact you are in the heart of Europe's biggest city, quirks will appear from every corner. First of all, let us see how under-utilised it is.



All right, there are roadworks on the crossing, but still, this is the middle of the city! And that is Southwark Bridge (Queen Street) joining Upper Thames Street. Note, where the traffic is NOT going, across the river.

There is good reason for this. Firstly, it is one of the newer bridges across the Thames, the original going up in 1819 with the current structure built in 1921. But more importantly, it is the bridge to nowhere. The northern approach is currently pedestrianised, but even before the erection of the Ring of Steel, it only led as far as the Guildhall. The southern approach is no better, being the most awkward way to cross the Thames from the Elephant (see map here). Of course, the inconvenience to cars makes this a great place for cyclists and films!



I mentioned that I liked Southwark Bridge. Well, it is pretty, delightfully so. You see, Blackfriars is huge, the Millenium Bridge, while a beautiful piece of engineering is, well, a bit grey, and London Bridge also has the same awful colour scheme. Secondly, because it is not busy, it is a relatively calm oasis in the middle of the city. The traffic is free flowing, when it exists. There are no silly tourists to jostle with and no angry commuters, bitter at wasting another day of their lives in a job they despise. It has an almost 'end of the world feel' to it, such is the peace that can be had on the bridge. Plus the surrounding streets are fascinating to explore, filled with the history of The City and Southwark. I can feel another blog spot coming up soon on this subject...



Well, it is currently being repaired, but do not worry. As with the other crossings within The City, along with Tower Bridge, it is not a drain on taxpayers, but is instead paid for by the wonderfully archaic City Bridge Trust, a fact that is proudly announced at either end of the bridge. Just in case you're cursing the current works on the bridge itself...



One final note to make about Southwark Bridge, is the artwork under the southern side of the bridge. The Thames Path is particularly gorgeous in central London, and is one of the few times that the southern side of the Thames beats the northern side. As the path snakes under the southern most arch of Southwark Bridge, a set of murals tell the story of ye olde frost fairs that used to line the Thames every winter in days of past, when the weather was much, much colder than now (and the Thames itself did not really flow due to old London Bridge). Great piece of public artwork, that has managed to withstand the worst that Londoners can throw at it. And pretty cool to look at too!



Getting there and away:

The nearest tube/rail station to Southwark Bridge is Cannon Street (District/Circle), which has limited opening hours, but is only a couple of minutes from the north bank. While route 344 is the only bus to cross Southwark Bridge, it does so twenty-four hours a day.

Wednesday, 24 February 2010

Indian Railways



India loves its trains, nay, needs its trains. The yearly rail budget report is headline grabbing news across the country, and the rail ministry is an important portfolio for any government minister to line her pockets. But there are some fascinating aspects from the report including the fact Indian Railways makes a profit, there is (finally) going to be a cross border link between Agartarla and the linking (really needed) of Sealdah and Howrah stations in Kolkata.

Something for the British politicians to take note too. No hikes in the fares!

Tuesday, 23 February 2010

We REALLY like to TORTURE!

(Click to enlarge)


We in Britain are a beacon of hope and light in this dangerous world! Democracy must be protected. The democratic right to exploit the poor, disadvantaged and destitute and to torture anyone who gets in our way!

Torture!


This is what makes Britain truly a great land!

Monday, 22 February 2010

Anti Terror Act - the Coppers Love it!

Oh dear...

Photographer films his own anti-terror arrest.

Watch the video. It is ten minutes long, but utterly depressing. First torture, now power hungry coppers. Did I wake up in Iran? All we need are songs about the The Dear Leader and we are complete!

Sunday, 21 February 2010

Mi Gustas (8)

I like...Cracker!

Ah, the 1990's, what a heady time to grow up. John Major, trying to be Mr, Nice to Thatcher's Mrs. Nasty, a country of two halves, the north vs the south, now firmly established. And something on the TV that made the gritty reality of life hit home. Cracker.



There's not much to say. You either know about this TV series or you don't If you don't, then check it out, it is being repeated every weekend on ITV3 or 4. Otherwise, this may well be one of the few times that I advise on getting a DVD box set. Cracking stuff!

Saturday, 20 February 2010

Thought

It cannot be bought,
Sometimes it is finely wrought,
But it's never caught!

Friday, 19 February 2010

London Diary (17)

I get up, I rub my eyes clear. I feel like crap, the lack of sunlight really getting to my body. I had dreams of climbing a cushion staircase in a supermarket and stealing a poorly copied DVD. I switch on the radio, I hear a classic song. I boil the kettle, pour myself a cup of tea and eat my cereal. I ponder, wonder and think of a better today. The reality is an eventless existence, working from one minute to the next, from pillar to post to pay this bill or that. A cycle of endless numbness. This race that we are in is simply a race with ourselves, our own cycle of degradation.

I look out of the window at the streets below. A mother on her mobile phone drags her child along the pavement, the phone conversation far more important than the discoveries her child is making by picking at the nearby wall. I wonder what will happen to that child. It is always the same. We start off so sweet, so innocent, finding fascination in the most intimate of details. We don't know much, realise little and act like sponges, absorbing information at an incredible rate.

Then something snaps inside of us, like a switch has been turned. We stop seeking out information, we loose that inquisitiveness. We are attracted to objects of desire, sex, lust and more. Suddenly, that conversation on the mobile phone is more important than talking with someone right in front of me. We stop trusting, start fearing more, although we have gained strength and knowledge, we become more fearful, constructing high walls to keep out the rest of the world. Until, one day, one day...

The tea's got cold, and she has dragged her child away. The sun is almost feeble in its strength. Despite the bright weather, it is bitterly cold outside. Winter has not lessened its grip on the city. I find a T-Shirt and slip it on. Funny, a couple of years ago, I could walk around bare chested without a care in the world. Now if I try that, I will get a cold and be bed-ridden for two days. Funny how slowly, but surely the body starts to decay. It is the little things in life that you notice more than the big things. But enough of the 'life' observations, I have to go to work...

Thursday, 18 February 2010

Social Life?

So far, this year has been a hard working one. Like last year, I have been working like nuts, but this time, actually succeeding in saving cash. It is a good thing not to have debt, but methinks that the efforts of the year will probably get wiped out when the pound finally devalues...

But, that aside, I have been remarkably anti-social this year so far. As can be seen by the lack of photos on London this year so far, I think it is time to make a little bit of 'me-time' next week. Yes, I think I will be off for a bit of socialising soon...

Wednesday, 17 February 2010

Saath London

I am sure I have blogged about this before, but there is one thing I do not like about living in South London and that is the difficulty of getting from A to Z this side of the river.

I had to cross the expanse south of the Thames last night in order to eat out with family. Over an hour. A bloody hour to do only 20 miles! Now do not even attempt to tell me that I could use public transport. Coming back well past midnight meant that would be a mission of untold proportions. And so it was by car. Of course the South Circular is next to useless so I had to meander my way through some of the more famed South London dumps.

Clapham. Herne Hill. Streatham.

I rest my case.

I hopefully do not have to do another drive like that in a while. With winter having rotted through all the roads, plus Thames Water deciding to dig for profits means that getting around, without a tube network is an abomination.

And this is a world class city(!)

---

(The food was not bad though...)

Tuesday, 16 February 2010

Pancake Day

While the rest of the world erupts with festivities to celebrate the last piece of pre-Lenten gluttony, in the Uk the rather more sedate activity of pancake making takes place.

Well, I am not one to mock this event. We have to wait a while before we get our carnival fun and to be honest in this weather we could do with some fattening up and what better than fried batter sprinkled with sugar and syrup with just a dash of lemon to make the winter blues blow away.

Anyway, here is an old video from the memories of childhood. In the days when fresh lemons could only be found at ethnic foodshops. My, my, how life has changed in the past generation...

Monday, 15 February 2010

'Telephone'

Ugh.

Please hold the line.

Yeah.

Your call is really important to us.

On the phone.

To hear the main menu again, please press 9.

Me, on one end of the line. Waiting for an operator to answer my innate problem.

All our operators are extremely busy at the moment.

The operator, stressed out, no better than a battery chicken.

I'm sorry, this line is now closed and will reopen tomorrow from 9am.

Sunday, 14 February 2010

(No) Mi Gustas (7)

I don't like Valentine's...



Yeah.

Just like Halloween, a perfectly obscure festival has been hi-jacked by faceless corporations in an effort to make us spend money. Instead of eggs and tacky pieces of plastic, now it is worthless cards, limp flowers picked by slaves in Schiphol in more awful chocolate to binge on after Christmas. Honestly, I have never seen a more perfectly targeted festivity as Valentine's Day. You can target the biggest mass demographic available to corporations (women), build on their insecurities (he hates you) and manipulate a whole segment of society (men) to spend money which they don't have (make this good or there is no sex for the rest of the year).

And because my radio show is on Valentine's Day this year, I'm doing a one-off love special...I'll be vomiting on air from 5pm...

Saturday, 13 February 2010

Friday, 12 February 2010

London Diary (16)

It was a cold night. She shivered. Shadows played against the wall. Cars passed by, intermittently. But he was not coming by car, so she did not bother looking out for a vehicle. Instead, she was looking out for someone on foot. He'd exit the tube station soon. She was early. Typically so. But for her, it was always that more difficult to get away, to taste freedom.

She lit a cigarette and sucked violently. Trying to warm up her insides. But it was futile. All of it. It did not matter, but when she would finish that cancer stick, she would be back to shivering in the cold, winter night. The cigarette would only provide a temporary respite to the cold, a slight comfort against the howling wind, but would not address the underlying state she was in. Detached, alone, not in the literal sense, but emotionally, there was something not part of her own existence.

The cigarette ended and she flung the stub aside. Enough was enough. She saw him emerge from the tube station. Looking a little lost. He was looking for her. She smiled at the thought. He deserved it for being late. She stepped out of the shadows. It was another night together...

Thursday, 11 February 2010

We LIKE to TORTURE!



If there is one hallmark of this pathetic government, then it is The War on Terror. One event, 9/11, and suddenly we decide to join the same Mullahs in the killing, rape and now torture of some of the poorest and most under-trod people on the planet.

I do not want to get involved in the mechanics of 9/11, except to say that it was one of the most horrific lapses in security, considering the amount spent on Western Intelligence services. Of course, these guys, (for us in the UK, MI5 and MI6) went into overdrive:

Torture.

Of course, the torture of one Brit resident did not stop the July 7th bombings, again a failure of our home grown intelligence services and a complete waste of our taxes. You see, torture does not work for one very good reason. You put my bollocks in a vice, and I'll tell you anything to stop the pain. Torture is ultimately self defeating.

It has been a hallmark of this administration. Doublespeak. On the one hand, lawyers have got rich enforcing the admirable but poorly drafted Human Right's Act while on the other our government (paid by our taxes) decides to go against the very grain of what a civilised society is meant to be.

Let me be blunt here. I despise terrorists, people who want to impose their own system of law without a ballot box (funny how Indonesia or Bangladesh have never voted for Sharia Law...), or misogynists with beards sitting in caves. I also despise torture. Iran, China, Saudi are not exactly my favourite countries on the planet, for good reason. They torture people. And now, so does the UK (along with the US). What makes us different from these lovely countries or the terrorists themselves?

Osama must be chuckling in his bolt hole. How much in common he now has with Blair et al...it reminds me of the final act of Animal Farm where the pigs and the men play cards and toast to the prosperity of Manor Farm...

---

One other note, what should be a top story on the UK's premiere news website is not dedicated to this hallmark in modern British politics:



Instead Facebook, some self promotion about Hi-Tech and a prize for a TV Chef (who incidentally is very good) take precedence over the fact that we, as a nation, torture people. Good to see an old fashioned cover-up at work...man, writing this blog, I feel like an Algerian dissident. You never know who can come knocking on your door. If I were Muslim...

Wednesday, 10 February 2010

Bicycle Diaries (Feb '10) - 10 years

In October 1999, I was a fresh faced teen. Just coming back from a trip around the world, I had tasted egg curry on the back of an Indonesian ferry, chilled in the Samoan sunshine and massaged a wonderful lady on a train through America. It was the time when a new £20 note had appeared and it was a time when people were talking to themselves on the streets of London. It was also a time when I bought this padlock.



This padlock (and the chain it was attached to) was my attempt to deter thieves from stealing my bicycle. And it worked. Ten years later, I have gone through at least half a dozen bikes, but none of them has ever been stolen. And that is in part to having such a mean looking chain and a chunky padlock to lock up my bicycle. I have left my bike all over London and not once has anyone bothered to struggle with the lock.

But as yet, all good things must come to an end. Ten years of dirt, grit, salt and water have taken its toll on the locking mechanism and even with all the lube in the world, it was becoming increasingly difficult to open the padlock. I did not want to be caught out with a jammed lock, and so I went to the DIY store yesterday to replace this faithful old servant of mine.

Few things last this long. Certainly the bicycle that was originally secured by this lock is long gone in the skip. It will be interesting to see how long my new padlock lasts. More importantly, it will be interesting to see where I am in another decade...

Tuesday, 9 February 2010

'DIY Duke'

Most homes in London are fairly old. In the suburbs, you are looking at builds approaching 80 years old. The place which I call home is in its sixties. At this age, repairs become an inevitability. Not only are the houses old, but the ad-hoc way in which extensions, garages and conservatories have been added to many dwellings in London means that when things break, they do not do so in a logical order.

Well, here is the latest example of my handywork around the house, my attempt to save cash and repair bits and pieces:



Let me explain. We have two toilets. One inside the house (upstairs) and one in the extension (ground floor). This is from the downstair loo, installed a few years ago when we refurbished the extension. What was only a utility room, housing the fridge, washing machine and dishwasher became a bit more funky and got a new shower and toilet installed. The poor tumble dryer (rarely used) got dumped in the garage. It is still rarely used, hence its now unglamorous location.

But back to the toilet. A couple of weeks ago a leak sprang up from the mains pipe. So I duly isolated the supply and we have been struggling on one toilet since then, while I figured out a way to fix the leak.

So, I isolated the pipe and took it apart. There was no urgency as I said, because we have two toilets, plus this loo could be disconnected from the water without shutting off the whole house.

The next bit is complex. Bear with me. Connecting the mains supply to the cistern was a simple 90 degree pipe coupling. The name may be wrong, but it looked something like this

Unfortunately, it was a really tight fit. And the washers in the coupling had worn away. This was the second time this had happened. We had called in the plumber a couple of years ago to fix this, but these parts should not wear away in two years. So I investigated, and begun to put two and two together. I may have come up with five, but I figured this out...

We have had really cold weather. Being in the extension, this bathroom is not as well insulated as the rest of the house. And being a very tight fit, the coupling had expanded and contracted more dramatically than the other pipes in the house. Hence the worn washers and the leak.

So, I decided to re-do the pipe. I opted for plastic piping, as it is a lot easier to manipulate (push and pull joints) plus the connecting mains supply is a bunch of plastic piping. And I sent the pipes on a maze through the toilet, as you can see in the pic above. This was to give the piping room to expand and contract in extreme weather. Finally I connected the extended mains pipe and the cistern via a flexible hose. This was to make the awkward angle easier to reach. I probably spent more on materials than I needed to (around £50, including a pipe cutter) and spent far too much time at DIY stores than was necessary, but I fixed the bugger, by myself!

This morning, I connected it to the mains supply and voila! It worked, no leaks between the joints and we are back to being a two toilet household.

And I saved a fortune (probably £200) compared to what a plumber would have cost. Life is good! Victory is mine!

Monday, 8 February 2010

The demise of the item number...

I love watching a good Indian flick and there is nothing like a Bollywood number to get your spirits lifted. But, ah yes, the but, there is something amiss with many of these songs coming out. They are short. All right, the demise of the six minute blast to the 3 minute blip is probably evidence of creeping western (American) influence, but one thing I miss is the video.

You see, a Bollywood song is meant to have colour, dancer and extravagance. Of course a six minute song allowed this, but even with a three minute repetitive jingle/tune, there is still time for a decent piece of choreography. Well, no longer. Instead, now when you flick onto B4U or some other Indian music channel, you get lame videos. And not really videos, but more like a 90 second trailer that features the chorus and maybe one verse with the words 'coming soon' burned as subtitles into the video.

You know what, I could actually put up with that. But the videos themselves are crap. No more colours or extravagance. No more beautifully choreographed moves reflecting centuries of tradition. No more convoluted plots of boy meets girl. Hey, why bother with the plot. Now a typical, 'modern', 'hip' Bollywood video is something like this:

Gimpy Boy and Facelifted anorexic pasty looking chick (with distorted breasts) go to club. Girl is savvy and wild, boy acts like an even bigger gimp. Lots of flashing lights, drinks sprayed onto girl's body (phallic) and people having 'fun'.

If I wanted to see that, I could go to the Ministry on a Friday night. Oh well, it isn't all over yet. One of the better Item Numbers in recent years (the Tamil version of the song is so much nicer...)

Sunday, 7 February 2010

Mi Gustas (6)

I like...Breakfast!



I like a good breakfast. It is important to my own sanity and well being as well as getting me out of the bed. And during tis most bitter of winters, there is nothing better than tea and porridge. A hearty warmer that keep you happy. Mmm, tea, porridge. I live my porridge. With milk, chopped bananas and a little honey. Honey...HONEY!

Saturday, 6 February 2010

Bumpf...

Spring is here. Well, maybe, but the daylight is slowly retuning to our shores. The worst of winter's nightfall is over and I could be a happier, less SAD person. Definitely, my Vitamin D intake will rise as our pitiful latitude should give way to some sunshine. here is a hope, in hell...

So, the worst month of the year, January is over, and what do I think of it? Two things. Lucrative and busy. Normally I like to take time out in January and jet off somewhere, but that is going to have to wait. In the meantime, I will get up to something far more cunning than a visit to LHR. Oh, and I need to catch a movie soon. Yes, and build a steadycam. More coming on that via the CWP blog.

Friday, 5 February 2010

London Diary (15)

She looked out, between the blinds at the night outside. She warmed herself against the radiator, but she still shivered as she heard the wind howling around her building. The rain had stopped, thankfully, but it was another bitterly cold February eve. But it was not the weather that was on her mind. Hoping to catch a glimpse of him, she hoped it would be sooner rather than later. But that's the trouble with a man's work...

How many women, just like her she thought, have stayed awake, long into the night, looking out for their man? Millions, billions along the course of humanity. And it is always the woman that will stay up, anxious and worried. It isn't that he is doing bad things, well, they are not things that are hurting her. He is working, working at whatever needs to be done so that there is food on the table and a roof over their heads. The job of a man...

In these enlightened times, both men and women are working, but it is still the man that does the dangerous work, the one who still takes the risks, goes that little bit further to secure something for the family. And it is the women who stay up at night, looking out of the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of that man, who works that little bit extra so that she can live a better life...

Thursday, 4 February 2010

Plumbing

DIY. I don't mind it, but in this weather I hate it. But, I have to bite the bullet. Ugh...

Wednesday, 3 February 2010

Great, Britain



(The pic has nothing to do with the blog post, but I think it is a pretty picture from London, so there)

I am not often patriotic. Patriotism makes me sickly. Uncomfortable. After all, being the child of two immigrants, patriotism is one step away from racism. That's a fact. And I do not often mention so on my blog, the fact that I really do love the UK. But like anything (or anyone) you love, you can also be critical. Sometimes I think that I am very critical of the UK. The weather, mostly, gets to me. I must admit, my patriotic fervour does not extend to our current climate.

I am also a deeply opinionated person, especially when it comes to politics, and I can hold what may seem contradictionary (is that a real word?) positions. For example, I believe in republicanism, but I would not want the current system of constitutional monarchy in the UK replaced. That's because while the system of monarchy is inherently unfair (the top position of the country is automatically reserved), the actual system of monarchy in the UK is remarkably good in fitting into the political system as a whole. It works.

But I am not here to talk about the politics. Except in one angle. Human rights. We have a lot of them in the UK. We often take the concept for granted, but really, we have fundamental freedoms. The ability to think and communicate freely with other people. It is a precious right, that many people around the world do not have. And we have been relatively lucky that this right has been maintained, despite the best will of governments past and present.

We are also a liberal society. One thing I am really love about the UK is that despite the rise of the far right, society as a whole is far more at ease with itself. Yes, we hear in the press this and that, but to be honest, the country is a lot less racist than when I was younger. Sexuality is open and the position of society on mixed race marriages, chronic diseases and disability is revolutionary compared to the 1980's. One thing that has been worrying in recent years is the rise in religious intolerance, from people espousing religion and from those who do not share their beliefs. We in the UK are generally quite private about worship, but the rise in overt displays of religion (or anti-religion) is something that has seen a worrying rise in recent years.

We are a country more at peace within. Northern Ireland, despite the difficulties, is no way near as volatile as at the beginning of the 1990's. And we are happy in Europe and NATO, despite what is often popularly spoken. Unfortunately, we have brought more terror to the world, thanks to Uncle Tony Blair. To the people of Iraq and Afghanistan, please forgive us. Not all of us want to destroy your country, but when it is our tax funding those bombs, it feels hard to be sincere.

I do not want to end on a sad note, so I will be more positive. More patriotic. Look around you. Look at the person next to you. He or she, you don't know their history. You don't know their background, their hopes and fears, their dreams and their goals. But here in the UK, we are free. To do whatever we want. And we know that what we do with our lives, is ultimately down to us, not down to caste, creed or governance. But our own selves. It is an incredible amount of responsibility to bear. But it can also be exciting...

Tuesday, 2 February 2010

6 more weeks of winter...

6 more weeks of winter for the Yanks but for us living in the UK, it is still bloody cold! Where the hell did all the spring love go?

Well, my own personal body clock - hayfever - normally activates itself at this time of the year. It has not. Which means that spring is definitely a long way off. Good news for my sinuses, but awful news for my body. I am absolutely frozen here, plus winter is no fun compared with the joys of spring and the floodgates of summer! Still, one must not complain too much.

What the hell? Of course I must complain. Half of all conversations in the UK revolve around the weather (the official stats from HM Public Bean Counters puts it at 51.6%) and we would be far more anti-social without it. After all, where would the famed twittersphere be without '@uknow', or something like that. Oh boy, twitter, that is almost as gimpy as facebook, how I despise web 2.0, despite the fact it provided for a lucrative article last year. Go away, I'm cold! Grrr!

Monday, 1 February 2010

It's an Election Year! (1)



And so we're off. On one side we have the incumbent Labour Party who are desperate to cling onto power despite the fact that they are truly awful. And on the other hand we have the Conservatives who are desperate to assume their natural position as Lord and Masters of the Universe. Great. Oh, and then there are the Lib Dems who have not got a hope in hell. This is choice, this is the mother of all democracies! This is Great Britain!

Tooth Decay


Oh, how I wish for a Hung Parliament. Then something productive might actually happen...