I've always seen myself in bronze.

Bake a Jacket Potato in a microwave. Slightly overdo it. Now cut the potato up - it easily 'falls apart' - add your favourite butter/marge. Question - is this now a jacket potato or a mashed potato?

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Shpereicfic&defid=2393071

...or are we going through to 1 a.m. (becuase I am not sure if I can keep this pace up!)

I once wore a "Mr Men" bow tie to a black tie event.

Has anyone ever made this journey? What is the best mode of transport to take?

I think it's more of a syzygy, myself; then, 'I got rhythm' (get it?)

What word did I put into Google images to get this image?

Someone asked me this in a text message. As you may know, I play a bit of chess and kept thinking of things like "Ruok takes Knight Check".

For those concerned, I am Ruok today.

I have been drinking a lot of room-temperature H2O recently. Apparently, it is easier for the body to work with, as it doesn't need to be heated up or cooled down for the body to use it.

I fancy the Windies to win this match now. They've got the runs in the bank and England are going to need to do brilliantly to overhaul this total.

one just feels more and more blog-postings brewing up in spite of (or perhaps because of) the lack of sunshine evident today.

Could it be the lack of hot weather that finally induces the brain cells to creativity?

This could be why hot countries are not conducive to certain academic disciplines.

I seem to have accumulated one blogging-type amigo (rather than having been Phyred by 17) so I am now 'up' to a rather Dickensian 118.

I am expecting a high turn-out.

There was an old man with a beard,
who said,'It's just as I feared-
Two owls and a hen,
Four larks and a wren,
Have all built there nest in my beard!'

In view of today's happenings (or rather, lack of them), I am thinking of growing a beard.

Today has been 'blah' but at least I've survived it and come out winning at the other end.

Tomorrow looks like more of the same, but one remains optimistic.

Question: Did anything actually happen today?

Answer: Probably not.

Rent out rooms to a Miss Whiplash and enjoy 'shadowing the Deutschmark'. Who am I?

Then I will be back at 100 blogging-type amigos.

I have a shower which reacts almost immediately to the simultaneous use of any other water sources in the house. If someone decides to use a little hot water, the person taking the shower gets frozen. If on the other hand someone decides to use a little cold water, the victim in the shower is suddenly boiled alive.

It's late at night, you are at a loose end, life doesn't make as much sense as it used to do five years ago (and it made precious little sense then).

You try to look at things objectively and come to thoughtful conclusions, but no matter how hard you try to open doors, they are perpetually slammed in your face.

There is an answer out there somewhere, but it has not arrived on my Qwerty-keyboard this evening.

Obviously you do need a certain amount of basic money to sort your life out, but millions are not the answer that everyone is looking to be the panacea that they think it is (ha ha).

I've had a kind of late night evening after just getting back home. On this particular occasion (why change the habit of a lifetime?) I won't tell you what I've been up to. Just to say it's good to be back at my desk after what feels like 6 hours.

There was a man lived in the moon,
lived in the moon, lived in the moon
There was a man lived in the moon,
And his name was Aiken Drum.

And he played upon a ladle,
a ladle, a ladle
And he played upon a ladle,
and his name was Aiken Drum.

And his hat was made of good cream cheese,
of good cream cheese, of good cream cheese,
And his hat was made of good cream cheese
And his name was Aiken Drum.

And his coat was made of good roast beef,
of good roast beef, of good roast beef,
And his coat was made of good roast beef,
And his name was Aiken Drum.

And his buttons made of penny loaves,
of penny loaves, of penny loaves,
And his buttons made of penny loaves,
And his name was Aiken Drum.

And his breeches made of haggis bags
of haggis bags, of haggis bags
And his breeches made of haggis bags,
and his name was Aiken Drum.

If any of you haven't seen my new website yet, please feel free to visit and sign the guestbook. If you have seen it, you might be interested to look at my previous website and sign that guestbook instead.

I like having my guestbooks signed!

New site - by Joe Cheray

http://www.creativexplosion.co.uk/

Previous site - by Pat Wick

http://www.jonathanfebland.co.uk/

I couldn't be less disinterested in your blog posting if I was cold called about this subject by an arctic penguin suffering from chilblains.

...and I am not referring to the Olympics 2008 or 2012. I am talking about the perennial (= evergreen) favourite subject of all Brits = The Weather.

For some unknown reason, I haven't been able to focus today.

...and what would I be picking up for you tonight?

"Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life!"

(lethargically) "the day after tomorrow... "

I've watched a bit of BB this year. The sardine task was a bit of a wheeze. How on Earth were they expected to stay in there for 4hrs 20 minutes though? It's lucky that this site isn't like BB or we'd all be worried that we were about to be voted off the site every week if our blogging and/or comments weren't up to scratch.

Anyway, BB is seriously like 'living in a fish tank'. You take all of these egocentric nutcases and put them in a small confined space and fireworks will surely ensue.

Another late night at the Estate. The drawbridge has been raised. Crocodiles are merrily swimming in the moat. An army of goblins, dwarves and elven people are attacking from the West. Ents are at large. Apropos of nothing terribly much I feel moderately inspired to write things at random in my blog.

Always happens at gone Midnight.

I would warmly like to welcome back all of those bloggers who've been away!

a) Crunchy with no butter on wholemeal with sliced tomatoes.

b) Crunchy (again) with butter and marmite on toast.

Any other suggestions?

OK so I'm in this Chinese Restaurant in Stanmore one lunchtime in 1975 with my mother, my sister and one of my sister’s friends. It's about 3.15pm and the place is pretty much empty, even the waiters seem to have disappeared.

Suddenly, the restaurant phone (this was way pre-mobi days) starts ringing (and ringing and ringing...) and no prizes for guessing who answers the phone. Yes, moi.

[I deal with the entire phone call by putting on a fake Chinese accent.]

- Herro?
- Ah yes, is that the Green Lantern?
- Noooo! this is a Chinese Lestaulant!
- Yes. Is that a Chinese Restaurant called 'The Green Lantern'?
- Ho'd on a second... (aside, but loudly while covering up the phone: "Mum! What's the name of this restaurant?"…)
- Yes, this is the Gleen Ranteln Lestaulant, can I he'p you?
- Yes. I'd like to book a table for 8 please.

I took the name and ETA and went back to the table to finish another excellent dining experience. As we settled up the bill a few minutes later, we conveyed the valuable information I'd taken on the phone to the waiter.

Sadly, (and rather strangely in view of the small number of lunchtime diners) they were already completely fully booked for that evening!

What facts can I tell you about Bearded Bernard from Blackpool? He was 21 in 1981 with brownish ginger hair and this rather ridiculous (aforementioned) beard. He was taking a science degree at Oxford or Cambridge (can't recall which) had a penchant for ferociously difficult puzzles and disliked jazz intensely. This could explain why I haven't seen him since the early 80's.

As soon as you don't know what you are looking for, get offline.

Can anybody explain to me why it is that every single person I hear on the radio has written a book? Is there some huge motivating force behind people for fine literature or do you suppose they are more cash-orientatated?

Now for some guesstimates: Two years to write the book; Another year to see it into print; First Print-run, a few thousand. Do the plugging rounds; Hope to get some decent press reviews. 5 years later the book is out of print and you have maybe earnt a few thousand pounds. Now compute this at an hourly rate… probably less than £1 an hour.

OK... back to my novel now (which I started in the early 1980’s in the form of a tv sitcom but I am now reworking into a comedic novel) at less than £1 an hour – this makes it something of a labour of love.

If anyone is based anywhere near Madrid, Spain, I will be having a prestigious concert there within the next year. If you can get Spanish tv I will let you know which station I am going to be on.

Is anyone likely to be near the South Dakota area in Spring '08? If so, please feel free to attend the World Premiere of my Jazz Symphony which is going to be played at the University. Augustana College, Sioux Falls.

http://www.sibeliusmusic.com/cgi-bin/user_page.pl?url=febland/