Some humour for you, this Monday morning.
The Star Wars satire doing the internet rounds right now is this. But for me this will always be the best:
It’s midnight. We are in bed. There is the sound of hollow rumbling from the sodium lit, wet leather, street outside.
I look across at you. The dark gleam of your eyes tells me you are awake.
“What’s that?” you ask.
“I don’t know,” I reply.
I swing up to the edge of the bed, my knees protest at the hard wood rim and spread the blinds with my fingers. There is a man wheeling a bin down the road as if he were just pulling a bike along side him, never mind that it is the middle of the night, or that he appears to be not taking it just a couple of houses down – perhaps correcting a mix up – but taking it the entire length of the road. Each house in our street has three bins, one for each category: blue lid for recycling; black lid for rubbish; green lid for organic waste. His gait is defiant as if to query his intent is weird when in fact the reverse is surely true.
“He’s wheeling a bin!”
You crawl over to look before flopping back down bemused. “Why would anyone wheel a bin down the road?”
“Drugs?” I suggest.
“A body?” you offer.
I nod. “Could be? I think I heard a car, perhaps he was moving it.”
You stare at me across the bed. A question on your face. Something of so much import it over-rides all other considerations. “What colour lid..?”
A spot of classic Rowan Atkinson to start the week:
Made me chuckle.
I appear to be running on empty. Top five signs this is so:
1. My hair is crazier than normal.*
2. I run out of words mid…
What was I saying?
3. Spacial awareness is diminished: I am slapstick gold and you can draw a pretty interesting piece of art by joining my bruises together.
4. The scar on my right eyelid goes the colour of Rudolf’s nose.
5. I forget where I put my glasses only to realise I am wearing them.
And a bonus one: you can actually hear the synapses misfire if you ask me to do Math.
* This is a relative scale: means that instead of menacing passers by it runs the risk of interfering with air traffic.
The very funny Tim Minchin’s wise words on life:
I need to try and see him live.
Last night I tried the Cayenne Pepper home remedy for sore throats.
The idea is pretty simple: boil some water, add a teaspoon of Cayenne pepper, gargle and repeat. Lots of people online claim this has worked, although I noted just before starting that all negative reports were dismissed as not having stuck with it for long enough – not a particularly scientific rebuttal.
The resulting broth is not the most inviting.
I gargled this for as long as I could stomach it and can report that mild tingling of the tongue is probably understating the effect of the Cayenne – if you don’t like spice don’t try this. Also: closing of eyes while gargling is pretty much essential as only a small amount in the eye produces a lot of discomfort. I speak from experience. It goes without saying the taste is vile.
After effects: aside from the eye not a great deal. As I stumbled through the kitchen, clutching my former optic nerves, it did occur to me that perhaps the cure involved a worse injury to distract from the soreness of the throat. The gargling helped remove the gunk from my throat but, to be honest, hot water on its own will do this – if gargled – and so I couldn’t say I noticed a difference. My chilli seemed to have more of an effect.
Anyway, I repeated the experiment this morning, just to be sure, and it just made me feel ill.
Tonight I will be trying Soy Sauce and Lime.
I still have a lingering head cold/sore throat.
No, it’s not swine flu: I have no fever and nothing aches except my throat. However I am finding it all rather tiresome now and with my holiday fast approaching I don’t really want to go to spend my week off feeling like some one is ice skating down my throat.
And so, for your delectation and amusement, I shall be trying a natural remedy each day until this thing goes and report the results here.
First up, in a few hours, the Cayenne pepper gargle.
I will probably regret this.
Things I learned today:
1. Cashew nuts drenched in honey are gorgeous.
2. Five hours is about my limit for continuous meetings before my brain goes gooey.
3. It’s a lot more pleasant running when it’s not so hot.
4. Listening to comedy on your iPod while running results in a severe loss of motor co-ordination that is problematic: tripping over feet, failing to see stationary objects and forgetting to breath between guffaws.
5. Also: the general public frowns on runners laughing inanely to themselves.
Prayer for the Shiny:
Shiny, who art encased in metal or plastic,
Hallowed be thy circuitry.
Thy functionality amazes.
Thy reassuring weight soothes,
In pocket as it is in the hand.
Give us this day our free firmware patches.
And forgive us our hacks,
As we occasionally forgive those who leave bugs.
And lead us not into Microsoft,
But deliver us from DRM.
For thine is the shiny,
and the power-charger, and the eyestrain,
for ever and ever.
Ah, where’s my credit card?
It’s the sixth anniversary of the second war in Iraq. About all the excuse I need to post Mitch Benn’s video What I Quite Enjoy:
Mitch’s Iron Maiden pastiche from last week’s Now Show is a thing of beauty, you can probably still get it on iplayer or itunes. Mitch is also on Twitter, there are worse people to follow – me for instance.