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BBC: Brown hails 'vote of confidence'
The prime minister has hailed Labour's Glenrothes by-election victory as a vote of confidence in the government's handling of the economic crisis.
I'm sorry, Prime Minister, but it only counts as a vote of confidence if you announce beforehand that you're taking it as such. If the voters don't know it's a vote of confidence, then it isn't a vote of confidence.
To be honest, I've always had my doubts about American independence. It seemed to me that our former colonials would be far better off if we were still in charge. And, if not better off, at least a bit more civilised.
This evening, 143 years after it abolished slavery, America celebrates the election of its first black president. Meanwhile, back in Blighty, we are burning effigies of catholics a mere 403 years after the Gunpowder Plot.
I stand corrected. I think the Americans have proved they can get by just fine without our help.
… the BBC has used one of my photos on its internet blog.
On the moors between Hebden Bridge and Haworth, there's this utterly cool place that looks like something out of The X-Files: Oxenhope Moor Radar Station.
It was built during the Second World War, but is now owned by Bradford University, who use it for measuring the size of raindrops and the brightness of stars. Or so they would have us believe. There has been a spate of UFO sightings over Hebden Bridge in recent months, and people have started putting two and two together.
Bradford University recently announced that it will be demolishing the radar station. The good people of Hebden Bridge smell a conspiracy. What is it they don't want us to find out?
So, at 07:00 this morning, I headed up to the radar station looking for clues before they destroy the evidence. Here's what I came back with.
Trust no one. The truth is out there.
I've given this post the above title so that, in future, I should be able to search Gruts for the phrase 'that word I can never remember' to remind me what it is. Clever, huh?
I've got a total mental block when it comes to one particular word. I know exactly what it means, and I know exactly how to use it in a sentence, but can I remember the bloody word? No I bloody well can't.
"What's that word I can never remember?" I asked Jen last night.
"Which word?"
"Exactly! The one I can't remember. The one they use when they're bunching the same types of people together on maps and stuff, based on their income or religion or anything like that."
"Oh, you mean"…
Christ, I've forgotten it again. Jen did tell me. She knew right away what I was on about. When she told me the word, I explained how I have a little mnemonic for it—I think of myself showing someone else a diagram—but it's a totally crap mnemonic, because it never helps me to remember the bloody word. Hang on, I'm going to have to ask Jen again…
Demographics, that's it! Demo-graphics: show someone a diagram, geddit?
Demographics, demographics, demographics! Easy-peasy Lemon Squezy™! Demographics!
After Jen had reminded me of the word demographics—last night, I mean, not just now—I explained that it was one of those words I have never been able to assimilate into my… And then I got a mental block on the word vocabulary.
Couldn't remember the word vocabulary. How ironic is that?
Jen was at a meeting at work yesterday in which they discussed the organisation's values. Afterwards, she asked me what my values are.
I've been giving it a lot of thought, and the only one I've managed to come up with so far is punctuality.
Liverpool demonstrated their growing title credentials by ending Chelsea's 86-game unbeaten run in the Premier League at Stamford Bridge and moving three points clear at the top of the table.
Several years ago, Jen found a smoked fish tart recipe in a magazine and gave it a go. It was utterly fantastic.
Ever since, we've been trying to find recipe again. Jen has a very large number of recipe magazines, and she's been through each one of them several times, searching for the bloody recipe. So illusive elusive was it, that the recipe became something of a legend at our place: "Remember that fish tart?" we would reminisce. "Wasn't it fantastic! I wonder what we did with the sodding recipe."
Anyway, the other week, Jen decided to have another look for it, and, after several hours' searching, she finally found it. W00t! So, to avoid losing it once again, I've published it here.
Give it a go: it's bloody fantastic.
As you might expect, it's not your typical interview:
Q: What is a gentleman?
A: A man who can play the accordion, but doesn't.
(Not an original quote, but very Waitsian.)
…Oh, and while I'm on the subject of Tom Waits:
BBC: Naked man charged with burglary
A man found naked trapped in the chimney of a supermarket in Wigan has been charged with burglary…
Firefighters were called to rescue the man who had become trapped and had lost his clothes as he tried to get out.
I know one can't condone criminal activity, but you have to feel sorry for the chap: it's happened to all of us.