rARsh!

Simon’s Cat + Kirsti = Hilarity

‘Im Oop Nawth told me that there’s a sequel to Simon Tofield’s excellent The Wake Up Cat animation -Let Me In!. As the part of the cat is ably played by Shrooty (who is, presumably, Simon’s Cat) what you effectively have - apart from an amusing pair of cartoons - is the soundtrack of a cat asking for assistance.

For added fun, cat people, play the animation with your feline in the room and watch them go absolutely crazy trying to find the other cat.

Laugh? I almost wet myself. Almost.

iGoogle. Do you?

I’d be lost without my iGoogle start page.

If you’re the same, I’ve created a handy gadget which you may care to add.

Click here to add it to your page.

Lionel likes to

I’m carrying the meme on from Anna at Little Red Boat (with a minor tweak).

All I had to do was go to Google, type in ‘[my name] likes to’, and then copy and paste the results. I’ll share what happened when I did this later but these are the results for “Lionel likes to”:

Lionel likes to break the rules of the genre

Yes he does.

Lionel likes to read his segments directly from the thinkprogress.org website

No, I’d never heard of that website. I don’t think that Igraz - the writer of this quote - is fond of (his or her) Lionel.

Lionel likes to use the word “punctilious”, even in places where it’s not really appropriate.

Yes, I’m punctilious about that. (Igraz really, really doesn’t like his or her Lionel).

A favorite story Lionel likes to share is his mother and older sister went to the grocery store and upon returning, found eight-year-old Lionel standing on a stool, flambéing bananas!

Well, apart from not having an older sister and my not knowing how to flambé bananas - or anything else for that matter - this one’s spot on.

Lionel likes to reflect. He loves to talk music.

I don’t think I’m shiny enough to reflect if I’m honest.

Most of all, though, Lionel likes to read. He also enjoys matching words with pictures.

I do. It’s true.

Well that’s fairly clear, I think. Less so were the results when I used my real name (which, for security purposes, is replaced with “Oberon” in the quotes below):

Oberon likes to take it outside and run past Bergamot with it at high speeds to get him to play tug with her

Her? Her?! Isn’t it obvious that Oberon is a male name?

Oberon likes to party

Actually, he doesn’t really and feels uncomfortable in crowds.

Oberon likes to keep his people in line, he doesn’t favor humans who eat deer meat.

I don’t think I have any people. Not that I’ve noticed, at least. I also don’t think I favour or otherwise people based on their choice of foodstuffs.

Oberon likes to sport his black slacks and coat, along with his white button up shirt and crimson red tie.

Wow. That sounds natty.

On balance, then, I have to conclude that the internet seems to know more about Lionel than about me in that the Lionel facts were 50% accurate while my facts were ony 25% accurate (and I know I’ve no dress sense).

As for passing the meme on I’d like to nominate Murph and Lyle - just to see which names they use!

Hot, hot, hot

It’s been too hot to do pretty much anything here at rARsh Manor (or that’s my excuse, at least) but I am back in the (semi) fitness groove.

Badminton last night was hard work as there were only 4 of us instead of the usual 5 or 6, so there was no chance to sit out a game and catch breath. I survived, though, even though I actually moved for some shots rather than just leaving anything that was out of reach. Considering that we’d not played for six or seven weeks and that it was darned hot I don’t think it went too badly.

This morning I left a cheque for Bayleaf stuck to the door (he was two doors away), stomped off into town for a coffee and then stomped all the way back. It seemed to need a lot less effort than before so I’m convinced it’s doing me good - and even though the trip to Torchwood Town last week was not exactly good for the ol’ back it didn’t cripple me as it would have done in less mobile times.

“It’s a different air today” announced a random passer-by as I passed him by. I’ve absolutely no idea what the hell he was talking about.

I’ve a fairly busy week ahead. “Toy soldiers” tonight (supposedly, although my scheduled opponent’s not confirmed he’ll be there to beat me), out for drinkies with Stubby on Thursday and - more importantly - coffee and cakes on Friday with the lovely J. I also need to pop over to Wuglums Manor at some point and crack on with tidying rARsh Manor.

It’s all go, y’know. Don’t have time to work even if I wanted to!

Settling down

Well, the “routine” didn’t last long - two days, in fact. Last week was fairly busy (by my standards) and I needed to be in/around each morning or, on the days when I didn’t, I just plain slept in - Kirsti having abandoned her 6:28 wake-up smack.

Today I was expecting an eBay win parcel (which, of course, didn’t actually arrive). Grrrrr.

I spent a couple of nights down in Torchwood Town at the end of last week although my planned day out with M never happened - not her fault, a family member needed her. I’ll catch up with her again next time I’m down that way. I did get a meal out with Woman in the Bay which was delightful as ever.

Left Torchwood Town on a dull and dreary Friday morning with a bootful of stuff which meant that when I got back into the sun just past Kettering I couldn’t put the roof down. Probably just as well as I’d got burnt ears on the way down!

It’s been hot, hot, hot here in Norfolk - the rain which must have cooled Wales somewhat just didn’t reach us here and the forecast arrival has been put back from Saturday to Tuesday to, well, never. I’ll be living in a dustbowl in no time.

Nothing much to report otherwise.

Onwards and upwards, though. Onwards and upwards.

Tickety-boo

I must say that I seem to be benefitting hugely from my new freedom.

The two mile morning constitutional is working wonders on my back - if I could just shake off this damned cough my neck muscles would also be able to relax and all would be truly well.

Madam’s not attacking me quite as often, either, and I’m learning to spot the signs so she’s failed to draw blood for quite a while. Exactly why she suddenly feels the urge to sink her fangs into me at random times remains a mystery, though.

I am stuck in a bit of a dither, though. Lots and lots to do but rather than decide what to do first, I find I’m just mulling over options and end up achieving nothing.

On the list at the moment are:

• Some site updates for my most loyal client (obviously should be priority number one)
• Take a load of stuff down to Big Yellow, freeing up some space to crack on with more tidying
• Redesign the work (web) and work (photography) websites
• Finish my generical SME webshop script so I can go out and sell it to people
• Design that ultimate image hosting script (which will be a free download and will hopefully bringing people to the work site who may be interested in the SME webshop script)
• Assemble and paint a new army in time for the club tournament at the end of the month
• Give the cycle an overhaul and start going for daily rides - I’ll get fitter if it kills me!
• Demolish crumbling garden outbuildings and find a replacement workshop type thing for the shed
• Work out a track plan for the Great Garden Railway and start work on the trackbed.
• Clear the sitooterie so I can shift the washing machine out there and get the dishwasher plumbed in - assuming it still works after 4 years’ inactivity

and that’s just what’s sprung to mind while I sit here. I know there’s more.

Taking my leave and Notional Express

I must say that I did very well with leaving gifts from my former colleagues.

Because of my revived interest in wargaming they game me a toy soldier’s helmet and a bag of toy soldiers. I claim it’s a toy helmet because although it fits Tall Andy’s head it’s way too small for my oversized cranium.

The second package contained a pirate playkit (sword, eyepatch, clip-on earring, etc.) to honour my promotion in the office of Talk Like A Pirate Day (19th September - add it to your diaries now!). Yarrrrr.

The third parcel was larger and heavier. Removing the wrapping I found a box marked “Wii Fat” and I’ll freely admit that I misread this. Was most amused to open it to fnd inside some bathroom scales and a skipping rope. Tall Andy had done an excellent job on faking up the packaging and is keen for me to put it on eBay “just to see if anyone’s stupid enough to bid for it”.

Even better was the final package - just one letter different from the third. Fantastic! I’ll be a shadow of my current self by the end of summer.

Last night’s event was most enjoyable with a dozen or so attendees for drinks at The Murderers followed by noodly scram at Wagamama’s.

It all went downhill once I got back to Norwhag station to catch the 22:10 to Aaalburgh. Everything seemed fine apart from the absence of a train until 22:10 when the display screen changed to show a revised departure time of 22:30. Now I’ve no problem with trains being delayed - these things happen - but I don’t see why they couldn’t have announced the delay earlier given that they must have known that the incoming train from Liverpool was delayed.

What’s more, the display screens were still showing an expected departure time of 22:30 forty minutes later when the train still hadn’t arrived. It finally rolled in at 22:52 and left ten minutes later.

My beef with Notional Express is that given that at 22:10 the train was 42 minutes from Norwhag what was the point, then, of announcing a delay of only 20 minutes to the departure time? It would have made much more sense to announce a 50 minute delay in the first place - or even an hour and have their passengers almost pleased by only being delayed by 52 minutes.

The delay meant I didn’t actually get home until ten to midnight, having walking 500 miles (give or take) yesterday. Ow, my feet ache - I need a new set of decent walking shoes.

Whole lot of work (not) going on

So far this morning I’ve had texts from Tall Andy, Leah (x2), Ferny (x2) and Joseph. The ladies are both missing me, apparently - Leah by ten past nine!

I’m clearly leaving a trail of broken hearts in my wake - it’s a shame (for them) that J is on the scene but I’m sure they’ll get over me … in time.

(Oh, and new lifestyle:new template)