I'm not a gambling man, but if I were, I'd put 50p on at least Saddam's was actually (mostly) marble.

If there's something you want to do or go to and no-one wants to do it with you, go on your own. And take yourself out for a nice meal while you're at it. Doll up a bit if you fancy. Take yourself on a date goddammit.

First world problem: stuck in a queue at airport security while a white lady with dreadlocks and lip filler has her bag searched because she's brought her Pure Copper dowsing rods in her carry on.

If it wasn't actually happening, I'm not sure the gods themselves could make this up.

I’m fine being old this shit is bonkers

The origins of curry and curry houses as a British food is literally in the Life in the UK test. Y'know, that exam dirty foreigners like me have to take if we want to stay here.

In Australia (at least in NSW) you have to have an annual medical, including an eye test, from 75 onwards. It got my dad to the doctor for the first time in 25 years and has almost certainly saved his life every year since.

Coughs in Gig Guest List.

We've moved into a block of new build flats for work, and no-one in the building quite has the bin routine figured out yet. Because My Brain, I spent almost all of yesterday (blue bin day it turns out) with What Day Is Bins looping through my brain to the tune of What Time Is Love. Help.

I have no experience of AI, I've mostly managed to avoid it this far. But the crux of this rings true: The long journey back from quite profound burnout for me has meant not only discovering this but practising it too. You are your own friend, first.

Sign at the entrance to the cemetery where half my mum's extended family are buried:

When I was in primary school, in a very small rural Australian town, we used to have to do parade marching as part of our school PE sports days. A troop of 11 year old farmer's kids had better form than this.

I have taken myself off for some quiet time in the fens, and this campsite is *utterly* delightful.

the problem with "echo chamber" as metaphor is that echoes produce new sounds and resonances. you just need harmonious tones to make those new sounds and resonances something you actually wanna hear. good sounds echoing produce overtones: new sounds consisting of resonant tones. Good, Actually!

Most recently, sold Stanley Tucci a pint at Duxford Air Show and he had to wait while I changed the keg. He was very nice about it.

Archaeologist and (out of practice) human remains specialist here. No, they did not.

The other night I took a late night taxi from the airport & my driver was from Sudan. We got to talking, & he asked what I do - he is a sports journalist who writes about soccer & has been to many World Cups - so I explained what I write...

Dunno about anyone else, but I got offered British Citizenship, AND a ticket to Bruce Springsteen today. Winning? Winning. (And in both instances, about bloody time)

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas vs. Fear and Loathing: on the Campaign Trail '72 mashup. For all his *numerous* flaws, I do sometimes wonder what HST would have made of this.

I am in a field. Attended a very good talk by the author of this book, followed later by an extremely disappointing set by the Sister of Mercy. Currently, Book = 1, Sisters = 0.

Bloke in the pitch behind me has bought a guitar and is playing Wonderwall, I believe unironically, and the festival doesn't start 'till tomorrow and I want to know what the rules are about doing a murder early doors...

In today's 'google AI overview is not to be trusted' (Hint: that's my hand, I am in suffolk today, not Iran).

Roman Salute.

Signed. Forwarded to my colleagues.

This. Also, 'Gamete-Calliper-Weilding Freaks' is superb.

It's literally a question in the Life in The UK test.

One of my colleagues presented me with this gift, found in a charity shop in Saffron Waldon. It is perfection.

Evergreen.

This is a message we can all get behind, I think. Yes?

The pig stacking game is sparking joy. Slightly inane but nevertheless very real joy.

I can distinguish between Spode and Willow pattern, and I am heartily the descendent of convicts, blaggards, London slum-clearances not even good enough to earn passage as a '10 pound Pom'.

Trousers have split 3 hours into leg (ha! See what i did there?) 1 of a 40ish hour journey. Not yet critical, but my bags have already been checked in for leg 2 so... 🤷‍♀️

One of my two Extremely Facebook Boomer™️ parents has decided that enough is enough and that This Shit Has Become Unusable. Unfortunately, it's not the 'recognising primary sources is critical' but can't spot AI history teacher, but still, it's a start.

Last time I was at the Enmore, we were daydrinking in the back alley as Jane's Addiction loaded out. Perry Farrel stood on tiptoes and kissed my cheek and I didn't wash my face for 3 days. Anyway. That was 21 years ago. Paralytic, syphilitic, get your rocks off and come together, right now.

On behalf of my people, I can only apologise for whatever this is about to be... they've missed a trick not translating the text of the coat of arms into Latin.

Is dog? Gracie, a ridiculous creature.

Brothers, spouses and nibblings arrive today and I am to be relegated to the mouse mausoleum. When we were kids and this was my grandma's house, there was 3 times as much crap, but also 3 bunk beds and a Nintendo.

I tried 4 different bottlo's for a can of Fosters with no joy, but there was some out of date VB in the backyard fridge, so 🤷‍♀️. Merry Christmas x

I currently have a bedroom at my parents, but the hoards descend for Big Christmas on the 27th so I will be relegated to the 'I really need to organise a garage sale' room of antiquities and guff. A non-zero number of dead mice were found when I tidied to make it habitable. #duvetknowitschristmas

It's Meeeee!

So I hit pause on the timer while I was at my brother's house, because sleeping in a bed and eating food off a china plate doesn't count, it's taken 52 odd hours of planes, trains, and a single automobile. Mission accomplished, Christmas presents delivered in person.

This, as the kids say these days, absolutely slaps.

It was another 4 more hours to my little brother's place after this point. I have been fed, watered and hosed down, and now shall sleep not sitting in an uncomfortable chair. Final 6 hours of operation 'surprise Mum for Christmas' to be conducted on Friday.

Late to the party here, but the new Cure album is just gobsmackingly good, innit?

And, we're off! 🚌 - 🚉 - 🚄 - 🛋 - ✈️ - 🛋 - ✈️ - 🚄 - 🚉 //🏠// 🚌 - (🚌) - 🚗 - 🏠🎄👨‍👦‍👦.

I...seem to have accidentally (or obstinately) effected change for the better at work? And now risk formally being made a Person of Responsibility despite two and a half years of steadfastly refusing such hijinks? Damn the curse of the Competent Woman.

This week's work accommodation's toilet seat is clear resin decorated with painted shells. Every morning this week I've stumbled in in the near dark and thought I was sharing a house with un-potty trained savages.

It's Work Christmas Party the day after All-Users Controversial HR Violating Email day, to those of us who celebrate! Should be great japes!

Apparently, this is what you get when you combine Pixies, PJ Harvey, and Fugazi?