The glorious Nokia C3-01

I haven’t blogged on this site for a while because I’ve been deciding what phone to get. I was going out of my mind, weighing up the permutations of network providers, text/talk options, which shop to walk into and not forgetting the phone itself, with its size, battery life, camera quality, type of keyboard, touch screen or no touch screen options. I was starting to wish for communism with its simple any-colour-you-like-as-long-as-it’s-black philosophy. As a result, I had been out-of-contract for five months.

A honeymoon for three (part 2)

The most convenient way to see other parts of the island of Mauritius was to hire a taxi driver for the day. This was ideal -we would benefit from his local knowledge, while having complete control of our itinerary, all for a price of just 35K rupees, which we had negotiated the night before. Bargain!

A honeymoon for three (part 1)

This blog seems to be descending into an obsession about various creatures. Having successfully rid the attic of mice (now succeeded by a family of birds), criticised made-up pets and been reminded of bears in wooded settings, the honeymoon would be an opportunity to escape from this madness… or so I thought.

FRD (Facial Recognition Disorder)

I have stared blankly at mild acquaintances, confused people’s siblings with their girlfriends and have said hello to complete strangers. As far as I know, there is no name for this weakness, but I refer to it as Facial Recognition Disorder or FRD.

George

Let me introduce you to George.

George is the perfect pet. He is clean, he is tidy, he doesn’t require walks and he pays his own way.

The Teddy Bears’ Picnic

I feel we have been misled. Before moving home, we tried to paint an accurate picture of the house and its surroundings, to make sure there would be no surprises. A previous blog post identifies that we failed miserably. However, I at least presumed that we would be moving to a quiet neighbourhood. No-one warned us that we would be treated to a daily rendition of The Teddy Bears’ Picnic. I’m certain that had we known, we could have haggled another couple of hundred off the asking price.

Question 17 and a decennial event

An event that occurs every ten years makes it special in itself, falling somewhere between the Olympics and the appearance of Hayley’s Comet in its rarity. This is when a nation unites behind its love (or hatred) of statistics. This is when we all sit down, pen in hand, to complete the Census.

Aspiring to be an amateur mouse killer

I have just moved house, which may explain my recent lack of blogs. The list of jobs has seemingly been endless, some of which were not anticipated. For a start, everything leaked – the shower leaked, a radiator leaked, the stop cocked leaked and bathroom pipes leaked. My car must have felt it was missing out and also started leaking (the power steering fluid, to be precise), There is also a long-running battle with Currys/Zanussi over a damaged washing machine (a long story that I won’t go into here – some things you cannot turn into comedy) and there is a list of maintenance jobs running into three pages.

Not so depressing days

For me and you, Monday 17^th January was probably like any other day that has since taken its rightful place in the annuls of forgettable days in history. However, for a select few media vultures with slim pickings to feed off from elsewhere, it was ‘the most depressing day of the year’.

The art of a comic walk-out

When the jokes have dried up, and you are being defeated in the banter stakes, there is only one option left. Create a scene of mock offence, stand up and pretend to leave.

This is the periodic method employed by some comedians, particularly in panel shows. Oh, how we laugh. Except there always follows, five seconds later, an embarrassed about-turn as the comedian in question drops the act and reverts to their seat in a walk of comic shame, their integrity as a walker in tatters. Alas it was just a ‘joke’ and they needed to obligate their appearance contract.