I got no strings.

My new wireless broadband from Wanadoo arrived today, and I must say it's revolutionary. I now know how Pinocchio must have felt when he left his strings behind. Nice.

Deadlines

Finally finished submitting tax return using the inland revenue's online service. My God it was slow today. No doubt many millions of panic-stricken fools like me were desperate to complete their returns before the financial penalties started. Who knows what the load will be on the site in the next few days.
I don't remember working at the computer quite this late for some time; the last that springs to mind was writing the code for Mel Croucher's unique Deus ex Machina interactive film. The soundtrack of Frankie Howard, Ian Dury and Jon Pertwee echoed around me as I struggled to meet the C64 programming deadline. Happy days.

The Wrong Thing

The questionable act of the 3rd in line to the English throne dressing up as a Nazi has prompted the premature launch of my online journal of the unfortunate, unwise, and just plain stupid. Go to 'www.thewrongthing.com' to see the first twitches of a handwringing glee.

careful with that axe, Eugene

I remember someone telling me about some hypnosis tapes they'd bought. Each had a message printed on them 'do not play while driving'. Call me stupid.
A frozen pizza comes with the message 'filling will be hot when removed from oven' and a candle 'caution; fire may burn'. Everyone, it seems, has to cover themselves against consumer terrorist lawsuit firebomb attacks.
'Look, it's yours now, we've had your money. Be careful, but don't blame us. We are not respinsible. For anything.' would suit me fine.

new life, glowing

Like a warm pasty fresh from the microwave. Feel the pastry warming as the heat slowly reaches out from its molten core like a new life, glowing.
A bit late, but welcome to 2005. Some of us are a bit slow coming round you know.

mild panic

I wondered how I'd describe my life using the new film classification which seems to accompany adverts for new releases. You know the sort of stuff, 'mild violence, frequent sexual references, two kangaroo fetish jokes'.
'Mild panic, (very) infrequent sexual scenes, gratuitous boredom complex' is my first hollow stab at mediocrity.

dead santas

I spotted two dead santas on the school run this morning. There seems to be some sort of defect in these 12-foot inflatable horrors which are dominating the skyline in Cwm Llynfi. Either that or a phantom santa-puncturer is stalking the valley.
It's all too horrible to contemplate.