Ah well, Christmas lunch is in progress with the temporal precision that only Microsoft Project can give. Only joking! I used Excel. If it goes wrong, I shall cook Bill Gates and feed him to the local wildlife. I know what to shove in, take out, unwrap, nuke, steam, roast and prod. The extremely rich christmas pudding will be steamed. And when it's all over and I'm seeing double after the wine, I shall collapse and vow never to do that again... not until next year anyway. ...
It has been 9 (nine) days since I last rode my motorbike. It will be at least another 5 (five) days until I get the chance, weather permitting. I shall try not to strangle anybody in the meantime. Hotel Chocolat has run out of champagne truffles. The world is ending. Anybody'd think they were being run by local government CEOs and councillors. Goose fat! The washing machine is double plus good, completely silent except for its happy chirrupy chimes when ...
Second Life. (3) As the old cliché goes, every adman has a book in his bottom drawer. Some of them actually go on to read it. And some of them, like Fay Weldon, Dorothy Sayers, Peter Mayle or the fatwah fella, actually go on to write it and get it published. (I wonder how many of you can, without Googling, name the ads or products they were associated with ?) I can proudly say that the only book in my bottom drawer was on the annual agency snooker tournament, (all proceeds ...
Second Life. It is a sad but undeniable fact of Second Life, that one’s body is not, shall we say, as perfect as it might have been in First Life. It would not be too much to say that said bodies often bear little resemblance to each other. I know mine doesn’t. Certain bits are missing, other bits are made not of flesh, but of steel and plastic. (Which, I have to admit, is great fun when going through the metal detectors at airports.) Still more bits simply do not work in the ...
Second Life The First Rule of Second Life is simple : say nothing about your First Life. Initially, people ask out of courtesy. But when they persist, it’s usually out of self-interest. Especially if your First Life was in advertising. The moment you mention this fact, you’ll be awash with requests that inevitably begin with a coy “I don’t suppose you could possibly….” And end with a plea to do a postery-thing for the local fete, write a pamphlet for the local ...
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