Monthly Archives: April 2005

I Hate To Variegate

Moet the rabbit has just eaten an entire variegated plant in the garden. And I have to say I’m terribly proud of the little chap. I don’t hold truck with variegation – never have – and consider it, well, somewhat Non-U. God intended plants to be green, solid green, preferably dark green. Anything else is nothing short of heresy and deserves to be “nipped in the bud” in no uncertain terms.


variegated privet bush
after Moet’s makeover –
rabbit deforestation
project continues

Psychic iPod

I have final confirmation that my iPod is definitely psychic. When I was compiling the election calculator (see below), I had iTunes on random play. It had a choice of 4.5 days’ worth of music – 1547 tracks. And what track came up? Politik by Coldplay: the only track on there with politics in its title. There’s a 1 in 1547 chance of that happening. Spooky.

Comic Sans Masochism

If you’re feeling up to it, I suggest you visit the Comic Sans Translator, which allows you to view your favourite sites (like this one) in the David Brent of fonts: Comic Sans. All you do is type in the URL. It doesn’t alter the site – just your viewing of it. BBCi looks particularly sad in Comic Sans – a hateful font, only used by people who are desperate to be liked and cry a lot when alone.

Six Degrees


More absurdly-indirect claims to fame, via friends…
Henrietta was recently kissed (pecked on the cheek – not sure which one) by Ewan McGregor.
My parents once met Prime Minister Anthony Eden.
My mum also plays golf with a retired MP and has played 18 holes with Nicholas Parsons (without hesitation, deviation or interruption)
My former colleague Jasper’s twins sat on Kate Winslet’s knee.
And I sat near Ricky Gervais in a BBC cafe (BH 2nd floor).
Please keep them coming. Thank you.

Name Game

The names of my email spammers are getting more preposterous by the minute. So, as an exciting convalescent activity, I’ve taken to saving my favourite spam names and inventing characters for them. One day, I might use them in a novel. I’ve recently received emails from:
Maxwell Potts (retired bank manager, living in sleepy Oxfordshire village)
Jeffrey Meadows (embittered failed novelist)
Evan Ponce (elderly gay cat groomer living in Norfolk)
Guadeloupe Hickey (trustafarian arts producer for small indy TV company)
Odis H Pugh (dangerously insane Southern Baptist preacher) and
Rigoberto Wolf (predatory anti-hero in atrocious romantic novel)

My Olive Grove

Good news. I now own an olive grove. Ever since someone told me that the broadcaster Natalie Wheen had her own grove, I’ve been desperate for one. And now I’m the proud owner and spent yesterday afternoon sitting in it.
Well, actually it’s just a small olive tree called Nana (as in Mouskouri). But it’s very pretty and makes me feel terribly Greek. The rabbits also like Nana, and are intrigued by the new Caledonian Pebble border…