Wow. I had my first Ikea experience today. I had to get some things for my room, like a bedside table and a rug (cos I hate walking on polished floorboards barefoot!), and it seemed like it was going to be the easiest option. Well… lemme tell ya, irrespective of how inexpensive, and cleanly designed…

Aaaaaah, the cavalcade of f*ckups continues (that fairy must be back around here someplace !?). Not that I want to spend EVERY web page entry complaining about it… although I'm gonna :) Naaaaaaaaah, can't be bothered. I *will* however remind my legions of adoring readers (i.e. BOTH of you) about International Talk Like A Pirate…

Ok, possibly I'm a bit intolerant but one thing that's really getting to me at the moment is how difficult it is to accomplish relatively simple things in this country. There again maybe it's just me. In any case, the frustration just seems to be piling up. Firstly there's the caper of following up this…

I was reading a Microsoft propaganda rag on the tube on the way home last night (I've stopped buying the Evening Standard, because it spoils my read of the Metro the next morning… that, and the weird old dude who sells it at Canary Wharf reminds me a lot of Nuddley, my old housemate). Anyway,…

Now, you'd think that since I had such a bloody marvellous time at the They Might Be Giants gig the other night that I'd have written it up straight away. Just didn't seem to get around to it, really. Now the I've got a minute though, I'll give it a shot. When I got to…

GRRRRRRRRRR! What is it with this bloody country ? You wouldn't think it'd be that hard to find A5 diary refills !? Maybe it's not the UK's problem – maybe it's just the Internet. Damn Internet. If it wasn't for the net, I'd get SOOOOOO much more work done ! Except of course I wouldn't…

I can't believe I missed TimO's birthday – it was his 21st, and all! Not that I could have made it to the party; it being in Adelaide and all… but it still would have been good to have the presence of mind to have called on the night, or something. Not that I've got…

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOPS ! It wasn't Fi who told me about the Royal Adelaide Show webcams, as I stated in my last post. It was Annie. Not sure how I screwed that up – maybe it's just cos I'm a bit dim. While I'm here, if anyone wants a Gmail invite, I've got some.

I won't go on for too long at this point, because I'm using Richie's (spare) laptop and I know how he thinks that updating one's weblog is an unhealthy and unclean deed. Went out the other night under the pretense of a pool night, however as it turned out there wasn't an available pool table…

One day there was a lovely little sausage named Jason, who all the people loved and adored. One weekend in August he went away to Windsor and across to Bath, and had a lovely time. When he got home he was all excited about the prospect of writing about it on his webpage. But when…