July 2008 Archives - wibbler.com

Linkblog – July 24th to July 30th

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Linkblog between July 24th and July 30th:

Just so you know, this is an automated recent overview of the Linkblog, a collection of interesting links I find on my travels. The archives are here: http://www.wibbler.com/category/linkblog/

Comedy Commuting

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Yesterday, I have to admit, was out of the ordinary. I’d been needed at a client site in London, so I toddled off to a taxi at around 8.30 to catch the train. The next door neighbour managed to poke his head around the door at the same moment, and so we drowsily shared a taxi into town. The driver looked familiar, I thought as my bleary eyes started to focus. It bothered me all down the hill, and it continued bothering up the next hill. And then, sadly, the reason struck me – it was the same taxi driver who my good friend Jac, months earlier, had annoyed intensely by drunkenly eating a pizza in the car at 2am when being expressly asked not to. I sheepishly paid the fare immediately on arrival – rounding up to the nearest pound as a conciliatory gesture – and scarpered into the train station.
It was here that thinks went a little more unexpected. There, in front of me on the floor, were two ducks. Live ones, thank goodness – quacking and waddling away as if they were rushing to get a vital train. Even more unusual was the fact that no one else was remotely bothered by the spectacle. I attempted to be similarly blase about it, stepping over the waddling creatures just in time to get to the ticket machine before a rather portly gentleman, who looked as if just crossing the foyer would take a good hour. As usual, the train fare defied belief, and feeling financially raped I got a bottle of water and boarded the train to London.
Denmark Hill is not an easy place to get to, and after 2 more train changes I arrived, dripping slightly. A nice black suit combined with sweltering temperatures and a degree of lateness is not ideal, and as I rushed round the corner to their offices, I sipped the final swig of water before bumping into Jo Brand. Unusual, I thought. As I was staring at her, dishevelled, panting and unkempt (me, not her), a man started singing Opera extremely loudly from a balcony to my left, before being bundled inside by two men hiding behind a small balcony-based bush.
I wouldn’t have been surprised at this point if Jeremy Beadle, freshly reincarnated, popped out from behind a car with a microphone in his small hand, grinning inanely. As it was, I had to get on with things and, barely skipping a beat, carried on round the corner.
The rest of the day, thankfully, was less eventful. Apart from the man on stilts, but that’s another story.

Bye bye Mark and Julia…

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My friends Mark and Julia left for South Africa yesterday, and they’re clearly bonkers. South Africa, as I’m sure you know, is just beside Zimbabwe, the Worst Country In The World ™. It is also home to Johannesburg, proclaimed as one of the most dangerous cities in the world. We all met on Saturday at The Woolpack in Bermondsey Street to wish him and Julia well. Apparently they could be anything between 3 months and 2 years. I’m guessing that it may be sooner rather than later…

The Beautiful Game

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Football, frankly, has never been my thing. From the early beginnings of my football experience, cold and shivering on a rock-hard football pitch at school with many other more naturally-talented football schoolfriends weaving their barely-formed skills around my big feet, I have never been a football fanatic. As far as I see it, a ball gets kicked around a pitch for 90 minutes, and it *might* go in a goal once or twice. Meanwhile, the sideshow involves who can fake injuries the best to get undeserved penalties. Where’s the fun in that?
My good friend Jac was always raving about it, and that only cemented my stance even more. Michelle is also a big fan – imagine her bad luck at landing one of the few men in the world that is anti-football. In some strange role-reversal, I sometimes end up being the football widow…
It turns out, however, that I’m not the only one. David Mitchell wrote an awesome article in The Guardian this weekend, expressing his bafflement at football’s enthusiasts. “I want a long rest from a game that never sleeps” expresses my feelings about the Beautiful Game in a way that only he can. Footballers, in my view, should down tools and take up a more worthwhile sport.
Like rugby.