Simon H is due to be a policeman. This, as you may have gathered, is only one of several things that have immeasurably changed Simon in the last few years – he now has a wife, a son and a Ford Mondeo. However, it doesn’t stop him having fun with Post It notes at his mum’s house while she was out. The aftermath: “Mum thought it was hilarious, but Chris [stepdad] not so much.”
Unbelievably, we’ve gone and rustled up a logo that looks like it was designed by a Japanese anime artist. It’s causing a bit of a storm, but the BBC has peered through the criticism and found out why it was designed the way it was. Not that it makes it any better, of course. Perhaps you can design a better one at Triumph or Trash?
Posh pupils had sex in Cranleigh School corridor
At the risk of sounding a bit old – I remember when I was at Cranleigh School I barely understood the point of sex, let alone finding people at it in the Geography block… (thanks to Tony H for this masterpiece…)
Rearranging heaven for DIYers
So, dilemma time. I’m not good with decisions – I analyse every conceivable option and check I’m getting the best possible thing, which annoys the hell out of Michelle. My company car choice is always a bit of a groaner – there are so many options, so many things to thing about. And so, dear reader, I’m enlisting your help this weekend. I’ve settled on the Lexus IS250. I’ve even settled on the spec, which was no mean feat.
But the colour decision is the final hurdle – which do you like better? The left is Windsor Blue, the right is Cadoxton Slate – click them to expand…
Bored by my mundane travel to work, I’ve taken to doing things to pass the time. One thing that’s taken hold on my recent mornings in traffic jams is to memorise number plates. Sad, I know. But it turns out that I can take one look at a numberplate, look away, recall the image of the plate and read it off. I can do the same for phone numbers on shop windows. I can see something once and I know the home and mobile numbers of everyone in my company – that’s about so that whenever people need to dial numbers or want to find out who’s calling, they ask me. I know Pi to 16 decimal places.
So, the question I have is – is this normal? Am I just doing what everyone else can do? Or is this something quite clever? What constitutes a photographic memory? Are Mensa waiting for someone as clearly intelligent as me?! Am I over-egging the pudding, bigging myself up when I’m actually mediocre?
Tell me the score…
One of my projects at work at the moment is an elephant of a job – amalgamate the 12 customer databases we have had for twenty years into one large one. It’s not a small task – each database held about 200 companies, with business-critical data in each one.
And, frankly, it’s not the most exciting task I’ve done. So to relieve the tedium, I mainly get off on searching the database for new rude words that angry salespeople have written about a customer on a particularly bad day – words that used to be private, and now aren’t. Here are just some that I found yesterday (suitably desensitised for the webby public):
- “Discovered particles of what looked like radioactive sh*t. Wiped shoes thoroughly on exit.”
- “Called to introduce myself –> He is an obnoxious little bugger and if he is that rude to every body I hope his head falls off. W@nker.”
- “Still a tosser. Would like a quote, but I’m bugg@red if I’ll give him a cheap one.”
- “ISKA WAS HER NORMAL CANDID SELF. SHE WINDS ME UP AND I CANT BELIEVE THAT SHE OR HER BOSS PAUL WOULD WANT TO BUY THAT SH*T.”
- “WHAT A MISERABLE BUGG@R.”
