They can say what they like about Apple's so-called user-friendly interfaces, but that watch is WAY too big:
(Either that, or Apple is severely short-staffed.)
Ewokies!
Extreme albeit appropriate punishment
That's more like it!
Totally unlike crappy hurricanes and tropical cyclones, don't volcanoes have bloody awesome names? Krakatoa, Hekla, Stromboli, Vesuvius, Mount Doom, Eyjafjallajökull, Etna, and now... Hunga Tonga-Hunga Ha’apai.
I'm just saying.
I'm sorry, I have a kazoo
On Friday evening, Jen and I went to St George's Hall in Bradford to watch two recordings of the long-running comedy radio panel game, I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue. Sandi Toksvig stood in for regular chairman Jack Dee. The panel comprised Jeremy Hardy, Graeme Garden, Tim Brooke-Taylor, and Barry Cryer. I couldn't help noticing that, at 49, I was almost certainly the youngest person in the building. Furthermore, despite being in the centre of Bradford, there wasn't a single non-white face in the house.
In the second half of the show, we, the audience, were asked to play a number of tunes on the kazoos provided, which the panel had to try to identify.
A theatre full of white, middle-aged people playing the theme from The Archers to Sandi Toksvig on kazoos. You don't get more Radio 4 than that.
Begrutten
Futility Closet:
begrutten
adj. having a face swollen from weeping
So, now you know.
(Happy New Year, by the way.)
2014 in a nutshell
It's that time of year again! Here is my fourth annual video slideshow review of the year:
(Click the play button and then the arrows next to the word Vimeo to view the slideshow in full-screen mode.)
As per the previous three years' slideshows, this year's slideshow contains 97 photos. I am nothing, if not consistent.
Once again, I composed the ambient pap backing track on my iPad. It is called Delhicatessen.
See also:
27 not out
I made my 27th consecutive Christmas Eve ascent of Moel Famau earlier today, accompanied by four dogs, Irish Mick, and almost an entire soccer team provided by Carolyn (some of whom I had never met before). This wasn't so much a walk as an expedition.
As usual, it was very windy on top. So windy, in fact, that one of our team got blown away:
One particularly large gust even caught Carolyn off guard:
As I've said before, you will stop me if this becomes boring, won't you?
See also:
Bishop's mate
Just saw this on the BBC News home page:
I initially misread the headline as: Welby seeks gay marriage ‘bride’.
Now that would have been newsworthy!
The woman from UNCLE
When I was at Boots the Chemist this morning, I couldn’t help noticing that the woman behind the counter was wearing a black T-shirt with the word UNCLE emblazoned across her chest.
She didn’t look like any sort of uncle I’d ever seen. I wondered if her T-shirt’s inscription was intended as some strange take on the American phrase to say uncle. Somehow I doubted it. I toyed with the idea of making a lame joke about her being the Woman from Uncle, but, in the end, having lived in Yorkshire for many years, I decided that the direct approach was best:
“Do you know you've got the word UNCLE written on your T-shirt?” I asked.
The woman looked momentarily confused, stepped back, then tugged at the bottom of her T-shirt, stretching it out to reveal the word JINGLE, with a little star over the I.
This woman is allowed to dispense drugs.