Month: June 2003

Two things on BBC news caught my eye as I munched on my sarnies today:

1) Liverpool was named European Capital of Culture for 2008 today. Someone from the council told the BBC website that: “This is like Liverpool winning the Champions League, Everton winning the double and the Beatles reforming all on the same day – and Steve Spielberg coming to the city to make a Hollywood blockbuster about it.”
Hmm, I think I’d settle for just one of those, you know.

2) Someone was shot dead in brb in Chinatown yesterday. Bloody hell!

On a slightly lighter note, I found this article about how people don’t check the signature on your credit card slip rather entertaining.

I had a call from someone at Ticketmaster earlier this afternoon to make sure I was aware that the time has changed for the gig I am going to on Friday night. I was actually, as they’ve already sent me a letter about it, and an email. The gig is at the Royal Albert Hall, and I believe most of the tickets would have been sold through Ticketmaster. So that means that some poor guy is phoning thousands of people to remind them about the change. They called me on my mobile as well.

Well, I guess that finally explains what they do with those extortionate booking fees that they charge.

And still the spam keeps coming. For some reason, I’ve been getting a lot of unsolicited emails offering to enlarge certain parts of my anatomy recently. As I said before, which website was it that I visited where I accidentally ticked the box indicating I needed, um, assistance in this area?

One of the emails this morning carried the subject heading “Break Down Walls with your humongous kn*b” (What, you mean literally? Why? Why would you want that? It would just be awkward, surely…)

Despite removing my email address from this website (at least as far as automated systems crawling the web for addresses are concerned, hopefully!), there’s still been no let up. Maybe I should attend the third annual Nigerian email conference for some handy advice.

All in all, a lovely weekend. Saturday was one of those rare gorgeous sunny days when everything is just perfect out – it was only slightly marred for me by getting caught up in the rugby crowd around Twickenham on my way over to Clapham for a barbie on the Common (oh and nearly breaking my back slugging the cooler around). However, we managed to overcome the difficulties (find ice, find beer, try to find cold beer, fail to find cold beer, find ice in Iceland, make warm beer cold…) and spent a lovely afternoon drinking and eating half cooked sausages (and leaving a couple of small black scars on the grass – yes I know it says to use the disposable BBQ on a “heat-resistant surface”, but, c’mon, who reads instructions?).

Also, appreciate the comedy value of the packaging for Tesco disposable BBQs. They are labelled as “the complete barbeque in one box”, with the caveat, in block letters, of “FOOD NOT INCLUDED”.

Sunday completed the full selection of seasons for the weekend, by providing us with Winter, Spring and Autumn as we wandered round Greenwich in the rain/sun/rain/humidity…