|LET'S GO TABLOG|
Starting today, diamond geezer is now available in both tabloid and broadsheet editions (well, if the Independent and the Times can do it, so can I). I hope you find the new size more convenient to read on screen, and rest assured there's been absolutely no dumbing down of the content. Oh no.
SPEECH FOR QUEENS
Queen Liz left the tupperware behind yesterday when she went to open Parliament. War hero Tony Blair smiled as she announced new laws to keep foreigners out (although thankfully Rupert Murdoch is already in). She also told scrounging students that they'd soon be deep in debt to society. Hopefully they'll all quit education and go get themselves a useful job as a palace footman or a topless model instead. God bless you Ma'am. But weddings for poofs? That's pushing a ring too far.
You'll remember that my computer's hard drive died totally and completely on Sunday night. Well, there's good news and there's bad news. The good news is that the hardware has now been repaired and is ready to collect. The bad news is that every single byte of data on the hard drive has been completely and irretrievably lost. Fuck. That's 18 months of email, all my holiday snaps, tons of anorak-level data, my lovingly-assembled internet favourites list, a library of mp3s, a ream of irreplaceable Word documents and a disturbing number of essential passwords. My one consolation is that, because I've been blogging so much of my life recently, a number of important photos are actually still alive out there on the net. But, still, fuck.
An apology: I'd like to apologise for that last uncharacteristic outbreak of profanity. This is due entirely to my fucking awful data back-up skills. It will not happen again.
I stopped by Stratford shopping centre yesterday after work to take a look at the public consultation exhibition for the Crossrail project. I discovered that the plans have changed since August, when I thought Crossrail was going to pass overground within ½km of my house. Oh no. Crossrail is now due to head into a tunnel just before it reaches the Bow flyover and so will be rumbling underground within about 100m of my house. At least they won't be building anything until 2007. I quite fancied taking one of the Crossrail staff home with me, but I made do with a leaflet instead.
In other local news, for those of you who are interested, the nightclub that was once 'The Block' has now been completely renovated and looks ready to reopen. It's been repainted bright pink, and there are six rainbow coloured lamps shining like fairy lights across the front, but there's still no new name. Make of that what you will.
So, our rugby lads are to be afforded a victory parade through the West End on a weekday lunchtime in two weeks time. What an honour that'll be, assuming anyone's still feeling quite so fervently excited by then. I might go down and stand outside Selfridges to eat my sandwiches and watch the gold cup omnibus pass by. Assuming I can get past the security cordons that is. And only because I need to do some urgent Christmas shopping afterwards you understand.
Wasn't Thierry brill on Tuesday? Five one eh? Mesmerising, and far better than either Man U or Chelsea could manage last night. There again, those two teams are through to the knockout stage, whereas the Gunners could still be knocked out beforehand. That's the trouble with football - shouting at your TV screen doesn't make your team play any better. Not all the time anyway.