My week summarised.

I have many things to say. A bullet pointed dash through is the way forward. It's the future.

-Holiday.
Africa is booked. 1st - 23rd March. Aha! Ahahahaha!!! Cannit wait. Really can't. Mustn't get too excited though, more to the point I mustn't go mad in the shops and spend loads of money on Africa gear so I end up looking like Indiana Jone's retarded brother. (Then again I already did that at New Year.)


-Bendy.
Back to earth (or Newcastle) though, I did Yoga on Monday, either I'm very out of practice or the teacher was really bad (probably both to be honest) but the next day I was so stiff I found it hard to move my arms. Funny, I don't remember it being like that before. The presence of several cuties shall ensure my return however, that and the fact it's free.


Oh dear.
Dave's plundering of the BBC comedy archives continues by them commissioning a new two part Red Dwarf special, and if that's not a terrible enough idea (does no-one remember the Allo Allo reunion for God's sake?) it's accompanied by the even more perplexing Red Dwarf: Unplugged. It's over, let it die with some dignity, don't turn it into Only Fools & Horses please!


-Superpop.
Guess what, B*Witched played at Powerhouse the other night. B*frigging*Witched. And I found out too late to go. Gutted doesn't even cover it. There was something quite spectacular about the particular combination of nineties pop and Irish jigs.


David Attenborough, gent that he is, has been receiving death threats from Christians because he doesn't mention God in his programs. His response, a spot on explanation of just why they're so woefully wrong.

They always mean beautiful things like hummingbirds. I always reply by saying that I think of a little child in east Africa with a worm burrowing through his eyeball. The worm cannot live in any other way, except by burrowing through eyeballs. I find that hard to reconcile with the notion of a divine and benevolent creator...


Daft Bint.
Michelle Hanson's column (borderline dreadful at the best of times) particularly irritated me this week. Just read it, and wonder what it is about a game like Brain Training (essentially a mini-game collection designed, admittedly on spurious evidence, to keep your mind active) that so offends this most luddite of scribblers. Her sneering condescension at Nintendo might be a little better if she didn't mention watching Casualty, 'why not play a musical instrument?' you daft titwitch.


Wesley Crusher.
I just joined twitter (see to the right), you can follow people's twitters. Aside from the obvious (Stephen Fry and Neil Gaiman straight off) I found Will Wheaton on there, that's right, Weill Wheaton. Go on, I dare you to try and find someone lower on the celebrity chain.