I am informed that a professor has been sacked from MIT for fabricating data in his research. So, we’re not the only ones then, eh??? (This is a nod to our own Gareth “Cut’n'paste” Edward aka “Fingers”)
I bumped into Brian yesterday while having a red curry at the Royal Orchid restaurant yesterday (yes, I’m trying to find a replacement for that belter I had in Munich), he’s doing a gig at The Rampant Lion, so gonna go pick up Tinks and her flatmates and party till late!!

I’m reading Somerset Maugham (pronounced ‘mawm’, as my English teacher was always quick to point out) at the moment, ‘A writer’s notebook’ in whcih he has collected all his thoughts as they occur over the year so that he can include those thoughts into his book. It is, as it intends to be, a wonderful insight into a writer’s (his) process. Of course, you can see where this is leading. Yes, I want to give you an excerpt . Written when he was 18, the following on friendship:

There are two kinds of friendship. The first is a friendship of animal attraction; you like your friend not for any particular qualities or gifts, but simply because you are drawn to him. “C’est mon ami parce que je l’aime; je l’aime parce que c’est mon ami.” It is unreasoning and unreasonable; and by the irony of things it is propable that you will have this feeling for someone quite unworthy of it. This kind of friendship, though sex has no active part in it, is really akin to love: it arises in the same way, and it is not improbable that it declines in the same way.
The second kind of friendship is intellectual. You are attracted by the gifts of your new acquaintance. His ideas are unfamiliar; he has seen sides of life of which you are ignorant; his experience is impressive. But every well has a bottom and finally your friend will come to the end of what he has to tell you.

I really enjoy it when authors define emotions saying “Here, I give you the four basic human emotions”. Maugham himself later says of this that “extreme youth is apt to make general rules from single instances..”.
Although I, being cynical, would call the second kind a material friendship based on the value of what a friend can give (not everybody is stimulated by another person’s mind, dear Mr. Maugham!).
Now why did I chose this particular piece to quote??
Tomorrow, I hope to bring you my insights on a passage I read in a Walter Mosley book, and how it relates to our blog use.

where I left off, I had this most wonderful night on Friday somewhere in town with these friends of mine. Someday a full review will follow, in the meantime you can read Jill’s version of that crezzy, crezzy night! Only must say, does anybody remember those weird high-kicking Kung-Fu characters in Copa Cabana, or was I hallucinating?
P.S And for those not ‘in the know’, Fatima Fong is apparently this Huge asian lady who works in the adult industry, and whose company my friends thought I would be most delighted with having. Not in flesh, of course. But in “life-like rubber”. And still with all her “three succulent holes” (I’m not making this up).

A quick fix of the Net from Ioannis’ before we head out for a night of debauchery. Last night listening to this great band ‘Crispy Duk’ in Bar …Sh in Cheadle with Tinks, Jessy and Ioannis. It was the greatest night I’ve had in a long time (and that’s saying something guys!!). I’ll fill you in with details tomorrow, if I wake up from tonight’s hopefully drug-induced stupor (a man must have his dreams).
As an aside, Ioannis goes to the top of blog ranks because of ‘services to mankind’. I being the representive of mankind that he serviced.

..and sparkling wine!! I was squeezed out this very day, a couple of decades (and then some) ago. To all my dear friends who greeted this glorious day for mankind with me, a big thanks! For those who haven’t, I know who you are, there’s a list (there’s always a list) and you’re not on it!!

Ohh, now I’ve got the podium, I have so much to say.

Great night at Po Na Na (liver, what liver?), thanks to “expense account” Ali for comping me all the way. The lovely dinner at Rusholme where I lost my handbag (manbag) with keys, but then retreived it at the cost of 15 squidders for the taxi. And a great pasta Alfredo (I really must meet him one day) lunch at the Waterhouse today as well!!!

Dad called me in the morn, he seems to be getting happier each day. Must be the lack of stress that he must’ve felt having to save little premature babies all his life (there was a little shout to my under-recognised dad).

Other friends made me happy as well, some (very) expected calls, and some quite unexpected, like the one from my old school friend and ex-mosquiteer (it’s a long story) ‘Thanatte’ in Indianapolis, or the one from Gowri from the West Coast, who’s going to get married soon.

I’ve been down to the ‘The Pub’ with Jill n’ Tinks for a pint and a laugh, and now Ioannis is driving us down to Cheadle, where there’s a Jazz club. So we’re going to be chillin’ cool cats, listening to some deep vibes.

or Ernie and Junior, as they’re known to me! They have a career presentation today at the Palace Hotel, which I’ve managed to book myself for even though it clashes partly with Liverpool’s game tonight (who says I’m not devoted to finding a job). Free food and booze, can’t go wrong, I figure. Let’s see what they can do to entice me into their fold. Hefty paycheck, personal palm pilot, company car….”Bring on the dancing girls!!” (-lines of a much-loved Roman orgy-minded character from Asterix comics)

I watched a program on the fernsehen apparat about comic making. I can draw, but not so good, so if there are any artists out there, give me a shout. With my wacky humour, and your hard labour, we can get a cult comic going, and I, erm, we, that is, we can make lots of money.

Ok, while trawling the net with god to find some illustration of dancing girls from Asterix to go with my oh-so-humourous piece above, I found this guy Dave Roman displaying his cartoons on t’web. Great stuff. ‘Agnes Quill’ is nice and dark, and for the soppy girls, there’s ‘How we got engaged’. But most of all I love Astronaut Elementary. Yippee!

What a crap game! What a crap game!! As my esteemed friend and personal mentor was talking about just yesterday, those overpaid sods at United were disgraceful. As the guy sitting behind me said, “We should start paying them based on performance, that’d change their attitude”. D’accord mate.

One highlight of the match though, was when Giggs was substitued for Park Ji-Sung. Giggs gave his captain’s arm-band to Park as they changed places at the touchline, who promptly put it on his own arm! This amused me greatly, and I couldn’t stop making ribald comments about ‘Our Captain’ and his effect on his players.

Went to Deansgate Locks after that to sink a few well-earned ones with Dave of CCRM. The topic of the day was Life, Religion, the Universe, and Everything.

I’m off to see Man Utd play Lille today at Old Trafford. Kick off at 19:45. Champions League means I had to cancel my swimming today. Won’t have to see Tinks in a swimsuit again, Thank God for small mercies!! I’m predicting a 3-0 thrashing of the Frenchies. Unfortunately Wonder Boy and Granny-toucher-upper Rooney won’t be there, he’s banned for applauding a great decision by ref to send him off.

They have a programme on tonight about people who are obsessed with sex. And apparently this woman is so obsessed that over the years she’s bedded 100,000 men. Yes, that’s one-hundred-thousand. Someone’s telling porkies here!! At a rate of one a day, I’m calculating 300 a year, a thousand in 3 years, which gives her about 300 years of sexual maturity (and desirability, but let’s not go there!) in which to accomplish said deed. Upping the ante, if we say she managed 3 a day, everyday (no breaks on Weekends and national holidays) that still makes it approx. 1000 a year, and a hundred years on her back. More than three different people a day? Ok, four? Five? I can’t see the numbers fitting! So I guess I’ll have to watch this programme to find out the truth.
(Voice at Channel five: “Heh heh! Sucker!!”)

Ok, as promised, I’m going to post the cockney alphabet here. Had to use God to find most of them, hope you’ll find it a laugh.

A for Horses (Hay for Horses), A for ism (aphorism)

B for mutton (Beef or Mutton) B for my time (Before my time) B for dinner (beef for dinner)

C for yourself (See for yourself) C for Sailors (sea for sailors) C for ships C for miles (see for miles) C for looking (see for looking)

D for ential (deferential/differential) D for dumb (deaf or dumb) D for Kate (defecate) D for rent (different)

E for brick (heave a brick) E for Adam (Eve or Adam) E for you or me (either you or me) E for Gas (Ether gas)

F for vescence (effervescence)

G for police (chief of police), G for get it (Gee, forget it!) G for take (give or take) G for Staff (chief of staff) G for Sis (g-forces) or G for horse (G-force)

H for respect (age for respect) H for retirement (age for retirement) H for it (Hate you for it) H for weight (Age for weight) H for teen (Age 14) H before beauty (age before beauty) H for consent (age of consent) H for love (ache for love) H for himself (each for himself) H cheer for the winner(A cheer for the winner)

I for an I (eye for an eye) I for get/got (I forget/forgot) I for nate (hyphernate) I for a needle (Eye for a needle) I for no (Ivanhoe) I for the Girls (eye for the girls) I for idea (I’ve an idea) I for tower (Eiffel Tower) I for idea/nasty cold (I’ve an idea/a nasty cold) I for pain (I’ve a pain)

J for dollar to spare (Do you have a dollar…)

K for teria (cafeteria) K for a cuppa (Care for a cuppa) K for coffee (Cafe for coffee) K for Restaurant (Cafe or Restaurant) K for the door (key for the door)

L for leather (Hell for leather)

M for sis (emphasis) M for sema (emphysema)

N for lope (envelope) N for eggs (Hen for eggs) N for mation (information) N for end (end-for-end) N for a penny (In for a penny…) N for it (In for it) N forcement (enforcement), N for red (infrared) N for terrible (enfant terrible)

O for the garden wall (Over the garden wall) O for my dead body/ O for goodness sake//O for the wings of a dove/O for the moon, O for crying out loud! O for there, O for come (overcome) O for a nice cold beer

P for relief (Pee for relief) also P for a penny, P for yourself, P for a whistle, P for cake (Piece of Cake)

Q for rations/the flicks/for fish and chips/for tickets/for a bus (Queue for..) Q for billiards (cue for billiards) Q for ills (Cure for ills) Q for a song (cue for a song)

R for mo (Half a mo’) R for Bitter (half of bitter) R for loaf (Half a loaf)

S for you (As for you/it’s for you) S for anto (esperanto) S for mation (a flying formation) S for As You Go (As Far As You Go) S we have no bananas (yes, we have no bananas)

T for two (Tea for two) T for eating (Teeth for eating) T for Gums (Teeth or Gums) T for dentures (Teeth or dentures)

U for me (You for me) U for mism (euphemism) U for ear (euphoria) U for Fox (Uffa Fox, British yachtsman and boat-builder) U for knee (euphony) U for age (youth or age) U for got (You forgot) U for ram (Ewe for ram) U for nasia (Euthenasia)

V for La France (Viva La France) V for l’amore (Vive l’ amore) V for Espana! (Viva Espana!) V for Victory

W for a bob (I’ll double you on a pushbike for a shilling) W for nothing/quits/ two hearts/trumps (Double you for nothing, quits etc – betting, gambling or poker terms) W for cards, Could be updated to W for president

X for breakfast (Eggs for breakfast

Y for mistress (Wife or mistress) also Y for husband/girlfriend/lover/kids, Y for Christ’s sake/God’s sake/goodness sake?Y for runts (Y-fronts) Y for thin (wafer thin) Y for and wherefore

Z for breeze (Zephyr breeze) Z for motor car (Ford Zephyr); Z for his hat (His head for his hat)Z for the doctor (zend for the doctor)

Having been tagged by Turboslut, I now must delve into my backlog (sounds naughty, that) and retrieve the 23rd blog I posted. These are the complete set of rules:

Go into your archives.
Find your 23rd post.
Find the fifth sentence or close to it.
Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.
Tag 5 other people to do the same.

“Haha, I love that kind of logic!”
is the 5th sentence from my 23rd blog

And I tag Ioannis, Jessy, Rachey, Jill, and Bingboula (Tracy doesn’t even have 23 blogs, I’m sure. Nyah nyah ni nyah!)

Okay, first point in my pad: My digibox remote wasn’t working for a brief period yesterday between 19:23 and 20:32. I thought my life had come to a standstill. I checked the batteries and they were ok. Now I must tell you a little about how I, as an avid scientist, approached this problem. Ever since I was a wee nipper I was interested in how things work. A simple clockwork toy would fascinate me, and I just had to figure out what made it tick. Some of my happiest hours were, and still are, spent taking things apart and most of the time putting them back together again. Physics to Naz the schoolboy was not a boring subject that had to be learned, but a key, an explanation of how things worked. Kinetic energy, levers and pulleys, all friends of man. So after checking the batteries I gave it a couple of quick whacks with the side of my hand. It’s working now and my life is back on track.

I mentioned the The Dalai Lama yesterday, whose book I am currently reading. I can’t seem to put it down, which is great praise considering I’ve also got two sci-fi novels vying for my attention. A wonderful simplicity of the guy comes through on every page. And bliss of bliss! Michael Palin was talking about Tibet on ‘Himalayas’ as well, as he took the high road to Lhasa and he showed me all the places mentioned in the book. It was like a crash course in Tibetan history. I felt like packing my bags and setting off. I love Palin, he’s got a great sense of humour while travelling.

But before that our very own Channel M (those brighter ones amongst you may have already realised that it’s M for Manchester) showed an interview with Tracy Chapman!!! She’s such a quiet person, with an infectious laugh and always thinks carefully before talking. I was well impressed.

Then came ‘Touching the void’, the documentary about the climbers in Peru upon whom befell a great disaster. I had seen it before at the ‘moving picture hall’ but kept flicking back to it. I really sympathise with the guy lying dying, when he says how he kept hearing ‘Brown girl in the ring’ and couldn’t get it out of his head. He says, “I couldn’t believe I was going to die to Boney M”. I failed a Chem exam because of ‘November Rain’, as I’ve mentioned previously in these hallowed pages.

So what song would you like to go out on?

I have nothing to do with my time, so after a big (read: drunken) night out at Po Na Na with me mates, I wake up bright and early (well, 12 of the clock) so that I might have ample time in which to do the nothing which I must do. About Po Na Na, the few old school isomers that were there really showed the newbies, who scrapered off home at 11pm. And we had only begun shifting up through the gears.

I sauntered around town, looking to buy shoes and wearing my old scuffed Moshulus (you won’t find them in no Cosmopolitan, girl!) that made me look like I really needed them shoes, so I couldn’t get any bargains anywhere. My Moshulus, by the way, have superior ‘air waves’ technology for breathing feet caused by the incessant and persistent efforts of my big toes working for their freedom from ‘Sock Smell Central’.

Popped in to the central library, I got one book for myself (Arthur Clarke’s ‘Cradle’), another book for myself (Robert Rankin’s ‘the hollow chocolate bunnies of the apocalypse’) and one book to hold while about town, the cover of which is not prominently but cheekily displayed as I gaze thoughtfully into the distance ’cause the chicks dig an intellectual man (The Dalai Lama’s ‘Freedom in exile’ -spiritual as well, can’t go wrong there!). Also got Paganini’s 24 capricci, the best of the violin solos played like a crazed Yngwie Malmsteen. Nice lady at the desk gave moi a “Central Library”tm plastic bag worth 15p for free, maybe beacuse I had just shelled out £3.44 in fines (£3.44, where else but in a library, eh?)

I had a great Wetherspoons lunch with pasta Alfredo (I’ve made up my mind to meet this Alfredo one day and thank him, maybe slip him a few bob for his trouble) and Ali regaling me with hilarious stories of his flatmates.
A big thanks to Karen, who lurks on these pages but leaves no trace of her passing, for the congrats.

Also thanks to Ioannie, Jessy, B of S, Rachey, Rayk and tinks for cheering my Not-so-magnum Opus. Thanks to my director, for believing in me when even the soaps thought I was washed up. Okay, I did a few lines, I was crazy, success got to my head. But now I’ve cleaned up man! And this award proves it. I’m here, and I’m here to stay.

Oh, and by the way, for those who were concerned and flooded these pages with their wishes: The Chinese guys made it up safe, and they’re now looking down upon us as we speak. So I guess that tape of “Launch disasters: The greatest out-takes all in one chair-busting bonanza”, in Chinese of course, but I don’t know how to say ‘bonanza’ in Chinese. Nor the rest of it, for that matter (Ah, the old ones are the best ones!) is going back on the shelf awaiting another auspicious moment.

I have now 2 bound copies of my dissertation in my grubby mitts. Although it’s my own child, fruit of my loins, I’m not really proud of it. But the thing is that I’m finally shot of it. I was awake all night with bleary eyes staring at the screen. Fortified with essential vitamins in Red Bull, and after a cheeky nip down to the pub for a pint or five, I sat in MBS with Mamie trying to patch the gaping wounds in my disso.
Nighty night!

China’s putting its second manned spaceflight up in orbit at 9am tomorrow (actually 1am our time). But foreign news crews are banned, and although they plan to broadcast around 50 hours of the flight live on state television, if the launch fails they plan to show a documentary about how other countries’ missions have failed. Vive la Republic!!!
Ooops, forgot: Thanks to NewScientist for this heads-up

Sorry to keep you fans waiting for so long, only there’s the teeny matter of my dissertation that needs to be buried in a peat bog by the 12th. Yes, that’s this month. But like an addict to his needle, I return with trembling fingers (No, I shan’t have another Red Bull, thank you very kindly) to post. Ahhh, what shall it be today?? I remember leafing through Kundera again yesterday; I took him with me to Munich, but what with the beer and the beer, he kind of never made an appearance. There’s one very interesting (“Interesting”? Can’t I find a better adjective? One more complementary to the atmosphere of a seasoned surgeon dissecting human nature and spreading its entrails before us yet again?) chapter where he describes the meeting of Germany’s mind Goethe with France’s…. stomach(??) Napoleon (Bonnyparty always reminds me of a stomach. His appetite, and of course his quote “An army marches on its stomach”. Which, though true, nonetheless makes me smile). He speaks of Napoleon issuing ‘sound-bites’ much as a modern politician might, and utters his belief that people posed for photographs long before photographers existed. Or maybe that’s not quite correct how I put it. Not before they existed, but before they were present. Because Kundera writes that a thing exists in its essence long before it comes into being. I wish I could give you the exact words; maybe tomorrow. Au revoir, gringos!

Cherryfairy goes to t’top, because it’s her HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! Bingboul’s climbing rapidly now she’s back from her parent’s home, and she addressed her plea directly to me. Autology slipping because there have been no updates. No changes in the bottom of the league; Rayk, Qing, Ye, Ina and Antonia all in the relegation zone at the moment. Ioannis, Boudica and Turboslut steady, as are Jessy, Jill and Tracy.
Remember, YOU CAN do something about your ranking!! Send me some money, or if you’re broke, call me and we can come to some other arrangement

Yesterday I went home and took part in the BBC TV quiz that tests the English of the nation. Since I have freeview (the poor man’s Sky) I thought I’d get a bit of interactive action going. Imagine my horror then, when my score was tallied and it only came to a miserable 35/70!!! Yes, the computer can’t be wrong. 7/11 for comprehension (I didn’t mind that; I’m slow at the best of times), 6/14 for spelling, 7/14 for language, 9/19 for grammar and 6/15 for words. I knew there was some thing fishy in the state of Denmark. So I sat through the boring news and waited for the blow-by-blow, tedious answer session, where I found out, to my joy, that I had actually got 58/70!! I’d throw that damn digibox and its recalcitrant remote away if I weren’t so attached to it. The best score across the nation was 68/70, a computer consultant (yippee!!). Male, obviously And the two he got wrong were collective nouns. Apparently it’s a mischief of mice, a crash of hippopotami, and an ostentation of peacocks. Being an animal lover (no, don’t be silly, not literally), I was particularly gutted for getting those wrong. I also got one question on Shakespeare wrong, and I put that down to o’erconfidence (note how I made that sound like Shakespeare. I still got it!!)

I’ve been too kind on some of you lazy lot recently, so now I’m not going to place your weblogs under my links alphabetically anymore. No, I’m going to rank you! This gives me the ultimate and absolute power and you the pathetic human need to please the one who judges you harshly (i.e. “Please love me parent/teacher/elder sibling, why dont you love me?”). The best weblogs are measured along four criteria: those that interest me, talk about me, and comment on my weblog, as well as those that update regularly. So you know what to do now, get on with it. This being me, bribes, of course, are accepted. I will also be impressed by indiscreet attempts at discrediting other competitors; after all, in my books sabotage is a perfectly valid method of gaining competitive advantage. This is all in the name of some healthy nastiness, nature red in tooth and claw.

Oh, almost forgot to tell you. Last night on BBC Radio 2 (yes, I own one of those) I heard a girl called Kate Rusby sing a song called ‘Moon Shadow’. Jeez it were good! It gave me goose fat all over my arms (or was that the kebab dripping???)

Yes, Sony’s Aibo dog can now blog. He takes pictures of his fondest moments of the day, and posts them. I’m hanging up my boots, slinging away my mouse and retiring. It’s sure to be better than mine.

hell for leather, bat out of hell, burning rubber, smoking guns, spitting gravel. desperate times, desperate measures, you pay the piper, you call the tune. rome wasn’t built in a day, a stitch in time, make hay while the sun shines. idle hands, devil’s workshop, devil in me, death on my right. wind in my hair, sun in my eyes, the call of the wild, the open road beckons, zen and the motorcycle, man and machine. Going for the big one, the glory days, a prize to treasure, a treasure to prize!

A bit of free association about my dissertation. 6 days to go!