Now, what was I on about…?

Here are some terse notes that I have found, supposedly to jog my memory of something amusing I was going to write about, and long since completely forgotten the significance.

On the 2nd of April 2010, I wanted to “write up weird showers etc thing for FTB”.

What showers? (“Pint of Banks’s mild please!” I hear you all chorus in your hilarious Black Country accents. Stop it.) I have a vague recollection of thinking about showers (as in running yourself under a big tap) of things other than water. But I can’t really remember. I bet it was brilliant though.

Then a few days later, from 5th April 2010:
“Unorthodox friends a la Heather McCartney. -> bath of custard, distraction”
I suspect I may have meant Heather Mills not Heather McCartney, but who the hell knows. I could conceivably have meant Linda McCartney. Definitely a woman, and definitely someone associated with Paul McCartney.

Any ideas? Anyone?

Anyone I mentioned these things to at the time?

Anyone want to write something?

Help me!!

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Peter Pan gets bullied by swan & triceratops. (animation)

While playing around to see if I could use Aperture to control my camera (yes I can!), I got a bit carried away yesterday and hacked together this animation.

Yes it is silent. I hope you enjoy it as much as the actors enjoyed making it.

No small plastic toys were harmed, etc.

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Habitat – they’re just obsessed with Seinfeld!

It’s true! Was enjoying a perusal round Habitat in Oxford today and saw two Seinfeld-related product names.

They’re obsessed!

Or at least one of us is.

Newman!I'm Cosmo!

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This is why I never write anything.

Something amusing comes up in a conversation somewhere, possibly an alcohol-affected conversation. I realise there’s possibly a gem of an idea that I can write about, and I make a note of it in my iMobileTelePhone.

Then a few days later, I’m going through notes in my phone and come to this: “Emailing nhs direct, fangs venom Tongue “.

WHAT?

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Filed under Autobigraphical, my writings

Sleepytime?

Why aren’t I asleep?
Tomorrow I should perk up;
bought some Berrocca!

Nifty-fifty lens,
new plaything for camera;
clarity is mine.

T-rex enjoying lens cap

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Some more haiku

“Fetch more condiments!”
demanded the hungry ones
So much left, for shame.

Wa-TOOSH: sneeze surprise!
Look confused for a second,
then hear the mist fall.

Went to bed at ten,
now midnight swift approaches;
blame Facebook, haiku.

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Hurty haiku

Bloody thermal cup.
When I spill tea on my hand,
It’s so much hotter.

Ow.

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Filed under Autobigraphical, haiku, shorts

The ultimate computer peripheral?

Does anyone know of a device I can attach to my computer that does the following? I want to be able to dispel dialog boxes by slamming my fist on the desk (possibly requiring a pressure-sensitive pad, with USB connectivity), and shouting ‘enough of your lies!’, so microphone also required. This will have the effect of closing a dialog box that has focus, selecting the best option from ‘No’ or ‘Cancel’ automatically from context.

If there isn’t anything that works when you shout ‘enough of your lies!’, does anyone know of something that maybe responds to ‘Get thee gone, Beelzebub! You and your hellish minions!’. If anyone has any suggestions, it would be much appreciated. Oh, and existing solutions should be compatible with Mac and Windows.

And if not, I can feel a patent application coming on. Let’s say it’s non-obvious for the moment.

Alternatively, it will just sit in the list of brilliant yet un-acted upon ideas, and I will file it next to the napkin I found in my back pocket today on which is scrawled, in black biro in a rectangle of triumphant emphasis, ‘plankton restaurant’.

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Confused of Oxford writes…

I have just bewildered myself in a similar way to the following:

  1. Stand on Walton Street at the crossroads with Cranham Street, outside the Jericho Cafe.
  2. Turn to face down Walton Street towards the Phoenix Picturehouse, and stare at it for a moment. While you’re doing this, think to yourself “films, cinema, films, cinema”.
  3. Then quickly look to your right, at the side of the Jericho Health Centre, in particular at the sign saying “chlamydia screening”.
  4. Be afraid and confused.

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Filed under Autobigraphical, shorts

Tipsy reminders are the way forward.

I am almost certainly a better person when I’m a bit tipsy. And I don’t mean that I’m more likely to be pleasant to people, give money to good causes, or put the toilet seat down. Just that I seem to be slightly better at functioning as a human being. I am more likely to assume that I won’t remember anything, so set myself electronic reminders of anything of significance I need to remember.

So far I have avoided the problem a friend of mine was telling me about where he said he could remember everything that had happened one evening, except whether a girl he asked out said yes or no. As it turns out she said no, inevitably. This brings to mind an incident I remember from my first year at uni; after getting slapped the second time I’d asked a girl her name I realized that the first time she’d actually said “Emma”. Whereas initially I thought she had said “um, er” and then changed the subject. As well as my memory, my hearing is not very good either. And I obviously tend to assume people are a bit peculiar/as easily distracted as I am.

But I digress. The other day I received several reminders I had set in my phone the night before. These included “Write about man having the world’s maddest piss” and “Put light blue trousers in the wash”. After a brief panic in which my head was filled with various terrifying scenarios that may have played out and inspired such messages the night before, I believe the two were unrelated.

The trouser incident was from a fairly minor beer spillage. Although it was a bit glass-breaky. Oops. The man having the “world’s maddest piss” was not me, nor inspired by my actions. But he was at the urinal next to me, urinating in a way I can only describe as bonkers, as I nervously monitored his activities in my peripheral vision and edged away as much as I could without having my own insane urinary mishap. If he’d been me, he’d have received an electronic reminder the next day which said “Make sure you wash your jeans, and you may want to consider binning your shoes. Try not to remember why.” Possibly also “take out advert in local paper apologising to nervous-looking man in light blue trousers”.

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