My Blog Posts

I didn’t really want to mention this, because initially I thought it was tasteless. But time gives everything a rosy glow, and I think that two days is long enough in this case. So, here we go; In reporting on this news on Friday, the venerable currant bun used the headline - “You’ve Lost that Living Feeling” Oh dear.

I have recently acquired some rather nice, rather German, pans. I am now officially the king of the omelette. I suspect that its a sign of growing maturity, but I do appreciate a bit of quality cookware these days. On a slight tangent, this weekend I shall mostly be cooking Glazed Bacon-wrapped Pork Sausages with Crispy Cheese Potato Skins. We are off to visit the International Man of Tax and his brood, who we get to accompany to the village bonfire and fireworks. Afterwards we shall be retiring chez Lewis where I shall whip up this little feast-ette and everyone will marvel at my culinary expertise.

When I got home from the pub last night, there was a little package waiting for me. My very own Twunt! mug had arrived. I am now officially a sad ScaryDuck fan boy, and my coffee tastes so much better when served in this fine piece of memorabilia. Cheers Scary!

Well I remembered, but South Central weren’t playing ball. There was a power cut at Balham station last night. After a rather inconvenient and uncomfortable detour via the underground I couldn’t buy my ticket because the office was rather understandably shut. So I ended up in the queue again this morning. Bugger.

On my way home on Friday night I was reminding myself that I only had to remember one thing this weekend. At some point I needed to pop down to Balham station and get a new monthly ticket as mine had run out. It would save me from the carnage that is the ticket office on a Monday morning (and the first monday of the month to boot). Can you guess what happens next? From the length of the queue this morning it would have taken somewhere between twenty minutes and half an hour to get served. So I took the quick route of only queueing for five minutes at the ticket machine to get a daily return.

Did I really just have a low fat pizza for tea? It’s definitely an oxymoron. Luckily I accompanied it with a full fat ceasar salad and a calorie packed glass of red wine. Phew.

Its official, Harry Potter is bad for you. Now I’ve got an excuse not to read any more of them. Badly written nonsense.

So, SWMBO and No.1 Son went to stay with Granny and Grandad for a couple of days. Faced with such unaccustomed free time, what did I do? Well, last night I turned the television off and wrote a web application using quixote. They don’t call me the wild man of Balham for nothing. Mainly because they don’t call me the wild man of Balham. Tonight I’m going to the pub. Which will be nice.

Web quizzes are so last year. I point to this one solely for the edification of the bloke who was my best man and who usually goes by a different moniker around these parts. What decade is your personality living in? Although I suspect I may be able to guess what answer he comes up with. Matthew? Leave us a comment when you’ve filled it in.

I’ve not got a lot to say, as you’ve probably gathered. So here is a picture of number 1 son “scoring a try”. The eagle eyed will note that the ball he is using has a silver fern on it, meaning it’s <a href-“http://allblacks.xtra.co.nz/home">New Zealand All Blacks memorabilia. I’d like to apologise for advertising the number one enemy on this page and would like to reassure you, dear reader, that I’m attempting a purge of Stalinist ferocity to remove any non England items from the household. It could be a little tricky with this piece though, as it was a present from Aunty Vikki. I’m sure she will agree that its right for her present to make the ultimate sacrifice though.

Who can take a sunrise Sprinkle it in dew Cover it in chocolate and a miracle or two? The candyman The candyman can The candyman can cause he mixes it with love and makes the world taste good Who can take a rainbow Wrap it in a sigh Soak it in the sun and make a strawberry lemon pie? The candyman? The candyman The candyman can The candyman can cause he mixes it with love and makes the world taste good

The mighty England overcame the South Africans on Saturday. An event marked by my acquisition of a new favourite pub, of which more later. But never mind that, the Kiwis are worried. Apparently England shouldn’t be allowed to win the World Cup because their fans are annoying. Whilst I’m not one for proud triumphalism its this kind of coverage that convinces me that the southern hemisphere sides are worried. Roll on the knockout stages.

On reflection, this album should have been called “Songs from the Big Hair”. This post has been brought to you by the friends of Siegfried and Roy.

There is an amusing story involving me, number 1 son and an inordinate amount of poo coming, just as soon as I can get the words sounding right and in some sort of order. Whilst I’m slaving over a hot keyboard I’d like to leave you with a thought; The hour is late, the lager rather refreshing. Tears For Fears’ Seeds of Love is on the stereo. How can you not sit on the sofa, nod your head and think “Life is good”

Its my birthday, happy day to me. Like Simon I’m a sparkling 23 years old. Smashing. Today I shall mostly be opening presents and watching Rugby. Super.

With the news of the impending impending reformation of Cold Chisel the sales of flannel shirts “at Lowes” have gone through the roof. Discerning music fans, however, just shrug their shoulders and are thankful that the streets will be free of Utes when Jimmy and the boys play a gig in the local pub. After extensive research we have discovered that the possible reasons for them getting back together again are; that Barnesey is skint (again) or that they are all so feeble minded that they still think its the 1980s. Dear, oh, dear.

Jann has some words of advice for aspiring parents. Thanks for the pointer Steve. They are a bit late for she and I, but just in time for the Palmers. Reading test eleven reminds me of something. Mum - I’m sorry about the green marks on the lining of the dining room curtains in Moat Drive. It was Iain’s idea, honest. And yes, it was snot.

The 70’s throwback and I were discussing back catalogues at the weekend, and I casusally mentioned that I’d like to renew my acquaintance with the fine works of Tears For Fears. Well blow me if they aren’t getting back together again. I’m a little suspicious that the new material won’t quite have the impact of the old, but you never know your luck in the big city.

Is it un-Australian to have a laugh at George Gregan’s expense? In this interview the Wallaby captain says, and I quote, “I think defence will play a massive role in this tournament. .. I think attack will be big too.” As opposed to what, George? Running around the middle of the park shouting “Look at me, I’m enormous”? Donkey.

Well, its Friday, and its been the Labour party conference this week. The only issue getting anywhere near my collar is ID cards. A quick summary - having an ID card gives me no benefit whatsoever and has lots of potential down side, including and not limited to identity theft. Sorry Tony and David, I shan’t be voting for you whilst you have a policy to introduce ID cards. For more reading, may I suggest this quick summary of the pros and cons of the issue and the work of liberty on the subject.