21 today

With this blog, I set a new personal record of 21 blog postings in one calendar month. All right, I haven't exactly found a cure for acne or invented a clean engine but it's nice to feel I've achieved something in April.
I don't have much else to say, so I shall leave you with my favourite piece of trivia from my chemistry studies – The letter J does not appear anywhere on the periodic table of the elements.
I thank you.

RC 30-4-10

Fish facts 2

Some more spectacular facts about fishies for ya:

• The Churchill Guppy is so called because it has a large, brown bottom lip that protrudes when it is displaying, making it look as if it is smoking a cigar.
  
• There is more salt water in domestic tropical aquariums than there is in the entire Arctic Ocean.
  
• Marilyn Monroe claimed her first ever orgasm was the result of a strategically placed goldfish.
  
• In the unusual Tibetan game of 'Animal Scrabble' the word FISH can be worth a thousand points.
  
• It is possible to teach salmon to say 'Thank You'
  
• Some species of deep-sea remora can get pregnant before being born
  
• The most expensive fish supper in the world is at Greasy Joe's Plush Plaice in Newquay. A standard sized cod and chips will cost £47.50 per person (extra if you have ketchup)
  
• The French word for halibut is made up entirely of vowels
  
• Queen Victoria kept whale sharks in a special tank at Balmoral. She fed them rats.
  
• The oldest fish in Alaska is a 73-year-old pike.

Alright, I made these up. But the ones in 'Fish facts 1' were all true..

RC 29-4-10

Fish facts 1

My research into caring for my new pets has brought forth some wonderfully pointless trivia about goldfish and their underwater relatives. Trivia is worthless without sharing, so I thought I'd pass on the info:

• The names calico and shubunkin usually refer to the same kind of goldfish, which means I did not buy different kinds of fish like I thought, and the guy I spoke to at the shop was either a liar or an idiot.
• In Florida, it is illegal to get a fish drunk
  
• The Queen owns all sturgeon caught in British waters
  
• Crayfish often molt, and then eat their old shells
  
• The largest freshwater aquarium in the world is in Tennessee, USA. It is 130,000 sq.ft.
  
• It is possible for goldfish to live to be 70
  
• Fish can suffer from illnesses called 'Cotton-mouth', 'Ick' and 'Neon Tetra Disease'
  
• A typical serving of fish and chips contains 600 calories
  
• The biggest fish in the world is 1,440 times longer than the smallest
  
• If you put a Mantis Shrimp in your fishtank, it is strong enough to smash through the glass...
  

...and now you know!

RC 27-4-10

BBQ:Y?

And so I have, somehow, survived my first social evening at Tom’s house. It was the strangest night I’ve had in a long time; even stranger than the ‘Come Dressed As A Fart’ fancy dress night we had at uni. Tom is such an over-powering personality and presence that everyone else is left cowering in the corners or shuffling in the shadows. His brood are nice enough people, but all his children seem to have been cut-and-pasted from a Hollywood glamour mag, and they all seem on the verge of breaking out into an AC/DC song or declaring their love for Satan.
Philippa turned up looking, quite frankly, stunning in a tight red party dress with heels and make-up. I’m so used to seeing her in her dowdy work suit from Next that as she walked over to me I couldn’t help but ask ‘Where the Hell did you come from?’ She seemed keen on being near me most of the evening, actually. It was nice, but I think she’d rather spend time with Peter Sutcliffe than with her own family, so I’m not taking it as a sign of romantic interest. Her being there was a Godsend, though. She was very, very different from the girl I talk to in the office, which probably shouldn’t surprise me, but don’t forget I handle relationships with the opposite sex about as well as a one-armed addict with hiccups would handle a Ming, so I’m often surprised by women. Surprised and ignored, generally.
My low point of the evening would have to be Tom’s insistence on picking up the guitar and playing us all the song he has written about love, which uses only two chords and has worse lyrics than you’d find on a postage stamp.
My highlight of the evening, I’m afraid, was leaving.

RC 25-4-10

Expecting the worst?

I've been invited to a barbecue at Tom's house this weekend. I don't see that I have a choice, but I'd rather not go. I have a horrible feeling that his family are all as –how can I put this kindly? – unusual as Tom is. I've had enough uncomfortable encounters at parties to last a lifetime really, and I don't want to get stuck in a scenario where I feel like a tourist in Weirdville. I have these horrible visions of spending three hours in a closed room full of carpet-fitters and crystal-freaks, being force-fed sparkling water while Tom and his family sing kumbaya. I shudder just to think of it.
I'm not even convinced they want me there really, I think they've just invited me to be polite because they were talking about it in front of me at work. Or maybe they really do want me there because it gives them a chance to get their weirdo spiritual claws into me and commence integrating me into their twisted, cloud-worshipping web of pseudo-scientific cultness.
Man, my thoughts run off by themselves sometimes, don't they?
I think I'll just chance it and go along. Might be good for my career. And I've never been one to pass up free food and drink, even if it's likely to be fat-free, vegan and tasteless.

RC 22-4-10

Fish – The Truth

I know it's been like torture, so here is the answer to yesterday's teaser..
The names of my fish were inspired as follows:
NELSON after Nelson Mandela (not after the famous son of Norfolk, Horatio Nelson, as many of you thought)
BUCHNER after Eduard Buchner (1860-1917) who importantly combined my favourite subjects of alcohol and chemistry.
RILEY after Countdown's numbers babe Rachel Riley. I know – I'm as shallow as the water in my fishtank.

RC 21-4-10

Goldfish a go go

I am now the proud owner of some goldfish! To be exact – I am the proud owner of two male shubunkins and a calico oranda. They are housed in a fair-sized rectangular tank with some fake weeds and a rather colourful shipwreck. And some water, of course, I'm not an idiot. I've decided to name them after three of my favourite people, so they're called Nelson, Buchner and Riley. There's a prize up for grabs if you can work out which humans those names were inspired by.
Answers on this blogsite tomorrow..

RC 20-4-10

Election fever

I'm sick of the General Election already. We've had enough literature through our door to wallpaper the bathroom, and all the candidates look like they're guilty of at least seven serious offences, not to mention a couple of cardinal sins. I'm particularly sick of hearing politicians make up excuses for 'voter apathy' and calling for voting to be mandatory, while ignoring the reason why most of us decide to be apathetic. The reason people decide not to use their vote isn't because they can't be bothered, or because they don't believe in democracy; it's because they look at the list of candidates and think 'I don't want any of these people representing me.' If there was a box on the ballot that said 'None Of The Above' or 'I Do Not Believe Any Of These People To Be Up To The Task Of Governance' then the percentage of the population turning out to vote would rocket, and I think deep inside every politician there's a human being hidden away that knows that.
I also hate anyone who says 'You have to use your vote – our ancestors fought and died so that you could have it.' Well my ancestors fought and died in World War Two, so that England didn't become part of the Reich, does that mean I have to go out and kill some Germans?
I'm starting my own campaign this year. It's called 'STAY AWAY ON ELECTION DAY.' I think if enough people refuse to turn out, and voter percentages are low enough, they'll finally have to take notice and change the system, and stop using the excuse that none of us can be bothered.
And that, I promise you, is the last time I shall mention the Election...

RC 19-4-10

Sorry about yesterday

I broke my golden rule again – DO NOT BLOG AFTER DRINKING. If I try to write while fuelled by alcohol it becomes one of three things: melancholy musings about mans' inhumanity, drunken longings for sexual activity, or a rant about something nonsensical. In a strange way, yesterday's blog was a bit of all three.
Anyway – to business. I have spent today looking into the activity that I hope will become my new hobby. What is it, you cry from all corners of your impatient minds? In a word – GOLDFISH. Yes, I know – it's not exactly a taxing, knowledge-enhancing hobby to pursue, but there's a lot to learn and think about, you get to have a nice relaxing low-maintenance addition to the family and, you know what? I LIKE goldfish. So I've been to our local garden centre, where it turns out the only required ability if you advise customers on fish is to have an IQ lower than the animals you're selling. The guy I spoke to had more studs in his ears than a Nottingham prostitute and probably couldn't spell FISH if you handed him all the letters on a Scrabble board. If that wasn't bad enough, at least three of the tanks I looked in had dead fish floating in them. So I've held back from starting out just yet. I've done my usual over-the-top habit of ordering every available book on fish care from the library, and once I've read those I'll be off to the shop for some shubunkin.
Mmmm, alliteration – the punctuation practice of perfect poets!

RC 17-4-10

Paradigm shift?

A strange thing happened in my head today. I was reading a great book about sharks, who reached evolutionary perfection 200million years ago and have pretty much dominated their environment ever since. Then humans came along and started messing things up and now they are having to change their behaviour and adapt and they can't keep up and they're under threat. Now I normally hate stories of man's effects on the planet and wildlife. Normally upon reading this article I would be depressed and want to go outside and apologise to nature on behalf of the human race. But today - especially after reading that we wipe out almost 100miliion sharks a year for such reasons as soup and stupid Chinese medicine - I didn't think 'Oh, God, no.' I thought 'F**K YEAH!!! GO US!! WE RULE!!!' This is unusual for me, and I'm not sure where it'll lead. Am I now proud of humanity's destructive ways? Am I to revel in our imminent rendering of the planet as inhospitable to everything except cockroaches and Sharon Osbourne? (who's had so much plastic surgery she couldn't be wiped out by an H-bomb)
Maybe my subconscious has just realised that I can't handle the guilt brought on by the behaviour of 6 billion other people, and that I should just join 'em rather than try and beat 'em. Why should I care and bother and try to change things when all other humans now and in the past have gone the other way?
I'm off outside to stomp on a butterfly....

RC 16-4-10

Musical epiphany list

Great Songs I’ve Heard Recently For The First Time, Which Most Of You Have Probably Been Enjoying For Years:

Free Fallin’ by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers
The End Of The Innocence by Don Henley
Better Together by Jack Johnson
Creeque Alley by The Mamas and Papas
A Boy Named Sue by Johnny Cash
Chantal Kreviazuk’s version of Leaving On A Jet Plane
Big Time Sensuality by Bjork
Redemption Song by Bob Marley and the Wailers

Thank God for online music sharing or I never would have heard them...

RC 15-4-10

Spare time encore

I spoke to Philippa about my search for a new leisure activity. She tells me she does yoga twice a week. She tells me that there are ten young ladies in her class, who all spend an hour bending their bodies into various positions while wearing leotards and gym socks. She tells me new members are always welcome. I think I may have found my new hobby…

RC 14-4-10

Spare time

I think I need a new hobby. Chess with Ted isn't exactly relaxing, and apart from that I just watch films or play on the Wii, and I'm feeling unfulfilled. I'm cycling again, but it would be nice to partake in an activity that didn't involve exercise and sore bollocks. Having watched the golf this weekend I thought I might try that. Walking around for a while and swinging a stick every now and then seems to sum it up, so I called a couple of local clubs to see how much it might cost me to play. First thing I did when they told me was drop the phone, then I asked if it was a joke, then I quickly hung up. I worked out that I'd need to sell at least one kidney and the naming rights to any children I might have in the future just to afford the membership, so it's rethink time.
Ted says his son Simon plays 'pitch-and-putt' which sounds like the Special Olympics version of golf, so I might give that a go soon. Or maybe I'll learn a foreign language or something. How hard can Mandarin Chinese be?????

RC 13-4-10

reflections on a game

I have to say I enjoyed the golf last night. Ted is always good company, and he knows his golf, so he made sure I knew what was happening and his enthusiasm was infectious. I have to give credit to the BBC, whose coverage was excellent, so even a newcomer like me could keep up and feel enthralled. It's a strange, simple game really. It seems to be a nice, easy way for unfit people to make millions. The strangest thing about yesterdays tournament - the US Masters - was the prize at the end. After 4 days of combat, proving himself the worthiest amongst his fellows, does the winner receive a glittering trophy laced with jewels? No, he does not. He wins a GREEN JACKET. I'm not joking - you can look it up online. These guys go through Hell and High Water in pursuit of a piece of clothing.
Only in America...

RC 12-4-10

Sporty/spice

I'm spending most of this weekend with Ted. It's part of his Grand Plan to turn me into a sports fan. Apparently it's a 'Dream Weekend' for sporty types as there's the FA Cup, the Grand National and the US Masters all happening at the same time, and all being covered on terrestrial TV. Personally I'd call it a 'Dream Weekend' for those who like to watch other people in action rather than participate themselves, but I'm still new to all this.
The Masters golf in particular is getting Ted excited. He says it's his favourite sporting event of the year because it's always very exciting and hard to predict, although looking at the event history online it seems pretty easy to predict to me... Assume Tiger Woods will win, and if he doesn't, it'll be the next top-ranked American golfer on the circuit. Have I missed anything?
The Grand National was a painful watch. I've never understood the attraction of watching animals being tortured in the name of entertainment. Even the Romans gave that up several centuries ago. Ted's son gave us a 'hot tip' that a horse called 'Comply Or Die' was a 'sure thing.' I think he's still running now, so that's another twenty quid down the shitter.
Beryl has promised to do us a good buffet tea for tonight, as we settle down for the last few hours of the golf, so it's not all bad. She does these gorgeous prawn tempura things that can make any boring occasion go grandly, so I'm starving myself all day in anticipation.

RC 11-4-10

Listening in

My habit of over-hearing things reared its ugly head again today. I was enjoying a small half of Guinness at lunchtime and couldn't help but eavesdrop on a group of four well-dressed friends sitting at a table having lunch. Comprising two men and two women, they were all in their forties, drinking lots of wine, and one of the couples was obviously experiencing difficulties in their marriage. Every so often one of them would loudly say "Well at least I clean my leg hairs out of the plughole" or something equally banal and intrinsic. Then they'd settle back down into silence and ignore each other for a while. It's amazing how people lose their sense of awareness when their relationships turn sour, and discuss things in totally inappropriate places. You'd think they'd want to keep it all quiet and talk about it at home, wouldn't you? Anyway – long story short – the girls were giggling, the men were getting frosty, when the wife quite loudly said "Oh, I've always been a flirt, I can't help myself, but Tim gets so jealous, don't you darling. He HATES it when I start flirting." To which 'Tim' replied "Sucking someone's cock in the toilet at a party is NOT FLIRTING." I have to say I think he has a point.

RC 9-4-10

Ills, chills and pills

I was a bit hungover this morning. So was Hannah. We sat around all morning watching cartoons and taking turns in the bathroom. Then Hannah went online to look for hangover cures and found out that Berocca – those weird, soluble multivitamin pills that cost a fortune – are good for the morning after, so she popped off to the shop and got some. If you've never encountered them, they're about the size of a Ritz cracker. You drop them into a glass of water, wait til it stops fizzing, then drink it all down in one go. It made me feel sick and turned my piss lime green, but apart from that had no real affect, so I just went back to bed.

Ted cracked a great joke yesterday. He and I and two of his sons were drunkenly chatting about women while making cups of tea in the kitchen. I was extolling the virtues of Rachel Riley from Countdown, while Phil (son no.3, I think) was praising some Mexican actress I've never heard of. Ted went into a lengthy description of what he'd like to do to Gloria Hunniford, during which Beryl came in to get yet more snacks from the cupboard. She noticed that everything went deathly quiet on her arrival, so asked what we had been chatting about. "Oh, just men's stuff", said Phil. "Yeah," said Ted, "Men's stuff. Stuff that's only relevant to men. You know – like masturbation and prostate cancer."

Ok – it was a lot funnier at the time, but it's still a great quote.

RC 5-4-10

CCC

300 blogs done and dusted then.
I'm a bit pissed on home-brew, brought in dusty bottles from the home of the youngest (I think) of Ted and Beryl's offspring. One of these days I'll have to paint a clearer picture of the family tree so you know more about those of which I speak. Especially if we're going to keep on being invited to these little shindigs. Hannah got drunk and burst into tears, then had to explain to everyone about Nathan, and then had to convince Ted not to drive her to 'whichever church the little faggot is hiding in' for fear of an unwanted violent end to the whole affair. I think she's gonna try and call him again tomorrow. I hope so. The longer she spends without him, the more obvious it becomes that she wants to be with him again, and the more intense and annoying her tearful whining about loneliness becomes. God, I'm a supportive brother.
The chess tournament that I was dreading never materialized. We had a game of something called 'Newmarket' instead. It seemed to involve betting on whether a card that had already been removed from the pack was likely to turn up or not, but in truth was just an excuse for a dozen people to sit around a table and swap stories, and that was fine by me.
I can't decide whether I need another drink, or to go to bed. Why is life so complicated when you're drunk?
And that's 301.

RC 4-4-10

Plot thickening..

Strange but true: Hannah called Nathan today to ask if he'd like to meet for coffee. It turns out that Jenna – the girl at work that says she saw Nathan cavorting in a nightclub – had made the whole thing up, just to show Hannah how much she misses him. That was the way Jenna explained it, anyway. "Actually she did it to torment me," Hannah says, "Because she's a bitch and a c*** and she's jealous of anyone in a relationship. She has a bad attitude and an awful personality. She also now has a black eye."

Good old Hannah. I have to give her credit for striking out, and also for taking the bull by the horns and calling him in an attempt to maybe patch things up. Obviously all this navel-gazing she's been doing really has paid dividends and really is having an effect on her personality. Shame he didn't answer the phone, or all may have been well again.

We're over with Ted and Beryl tomorrow. They're having a huge get-together for Easter. I think Beryl is approaching 80 and getting worried that she hasn't much time left, so she's having the whole brood over again while she can still cope with the catering. The upside is that it'll be good to see them all again, and there'll be plenty of wine and good cheer. The downside is that Simon will be trying to corner me into a conversation about football, and that there'll almost certainly be another all-in chess tournament, which I'll lose majestically. Mind you, I suppose it'll be a bit of a change - being humiliated by seven members of the family instead of just Ted.

RC 3-4-10

Friday (Good)

Happy Easter, all.
I like Easter. It's my second-favourite religion-based commercial holiday. A time to indulge oneself in over-priced confectionery and crap films from the 1960s on television, without the insanity and decorations of Christmas.
The weather is very un-Eastery. If Jesus was being whipped through the streets today, at least he'd have the rain to keep his wounds clean.
I think I'm going out with Hannah tonight. The girls from work have arranged a nightclub venture and have asked me along for some reason or other. I'd like to think it's because I'm sparkling company and at least three of them are hoping to sleep with me, but I suspect it's because I'm normally sober enough to see them all home safely at 3am, and I normally have money left over for the taxi.
Women, eh?

RC 2-4-10

My first Top 10 lists of 2010

My all-time favourite chocolate bars:

Topic
Kit-Kat
Texan
Wispa Gold
Fruit and Nut
Toblerone
Drifter
Caramac
Lion bar
Curly-wurly

My favourite words beginning with 'W':

Watermelon
Whissonsett
Wallaby
Wallander
Witchfinder
Whiplash
Wee-hole
Watchmen
Whimple
Wangdoodle

My favourite non-explicit nicknames for a ladies breastpieces:

Boobies
The Twins
Puppies
Baldies
Melons
Jugs
Huffets
Juggernauts
Pleasure-pillows
Girl Globes

RC 1-4-10