There are some strange people around. My colleague Suzi indulges in the ancient art of schlapping. “What’s schlapping?” I hear you ask. Well, you know those chocolate covered marshmallow teacakes. You take one of these and schlapp it on your forehead prior to noshing it, causing much mirth and merriment. It’s nice to see that a university education hasn’t been wasted.

Friday Filosofy or Phriday Philosophy. A theory about life, love and relationships, paraphrased but pretty close to what I overheard in the rub a dub at lunchtime.

“You spend three weeks trying to get a woman into bed; you send her flowers, buy her dinner and take her to the movies. When you eventually get her in the sack you’re looking for a decent return on your investment so you stick around for a while. Before you know it, you’re married with two kids, a mortgage, a golden retriever and an estate car.”

The interweb just gets better and better. I wish I’d thought of this.

Via the one, the only CoopBlog of course.

I’m feeling particularly bleurgh this morning due to an evening of speed drinking lager in Southampton. I woke up on a friend’s sofa with a screaming thirst, I obviously didn’t drink enough.

A single train ticket from Haslemere to Southampton is £13.10, a return is £13.70. How can it cost £13.10 to go one way but only 60p to go the other? Am I being a bit thick? Shouldn’t it cost either £26.20 or £1.20 for a return?

A spot of light relief for a Thursday afternoon. Who’s your ideal celebrity date. I wanted Atomic Kitten or Liz Hurley but got Beyonce Knowles instead, fair exchange is no robbery.

Another one from Kimberley.

“Ddo yyou sssell tten iinch ddildos?” The trembling woman asked the sex shop owner. “Yes” he replied, smirking. “tthen hhow ddo yyou tturn the ffeker oofff?”

via my colleague Kimberley's whizzy new phone

I’ve just been reminded of this; it brought a smirk to my face. I went to a fancy dress party a few years ago, the theme was (bad taste I know) accidents. People were covered in bandages, fake plaster casts and tomato sauce. All except one guy who was just wearing his boxer shorts. I said “did you know that it was an accident party?” he just smiled and said “yeah, I just came in my pants!”

I took the train to work this morning, getting on at Haslemere at 06:32 am (in the morning). Getting off the train were three of the shabbiest, sorriest looking young guys, still in their party frocks, on their way home from what was obviously a very large night out up the big smoke. They reeked of alcohol and had that thousand yard stare that can only be achieved by drinking the night away. I used to do that, it’s nice to know that someone is keeping up the good work.

I’m busy arranging a trip to Rome to celebrate our wedding anniversary at the moment. I’ve tried all the low cost airlines and cheap deal online bucket shops. You know the ones, £5.00 to get there, £195.00 to get back and you have to fly from West Bumblefuck Aerodrome (only 175 miles from London) at 3:30 am in the morning and change in Alice Springs and you have to fight a family of scousers to get a seat and a dried up sandwich is only £29.95. Guess what, after all the bullshi’ite offers, the cheapest and best deal is a scheduled British Airways flight. Their website is nice to use too. At the moment it’s my favourite airline. Wonder if I’ll get upgraded for advertising them on my interweb site.

Note to self... Go to Scotland and go walking soon.

Anyone who knows me will be aware of my love for hill walking. If you don’t know me, I love hill walking. This story about Mr Theodore Cadoux warms my heart. Not because he got lost and is now safe (though I am rather pleased that he’s safe), but because he’s still doing it at eighty six. Well done sir, well done!

I did a quick google on Mr Cadoux, it turns out that he’s no slouch in the hill walking fraternity. He’s member number 1181 in the Scottish Mountaineering Club’s list of Munroists. I take my woolly bobble hat off to him.

Does it mean anything when I misspell repetetive every time I write it?

Some of the many things that are guaranteed to bring a smile to any motorcyclists face are good weather, good cornering and good overtaking. So, big stooooopid grin ride to work this morning. Everything was right, right place, right speed, right gear, every corner was a joy and every overtake was crisp and clean. Carl Foggerty himself would have been impressed (a bit).

Lost Dog, three legs, no tail, half an ear missing, answers to the name of “Lucky”.

Friday was a beautiful spring day; we’re surrounded by lovely countryside so off we went with a chequered table cloth, large chicken salad and all the trimmings for a picnic on Blackdown, local beauty spot and the highest point in Surrey. Sam has an attention span like most small boys so it wasn’t long before we were heading off into the undergrowth each with a suitable stick. The adventure paid off, we saw a fully grown adder sunning itself in the undergrowth. It disappeared as soon it knew we were there, but we both got a really good look at it, the first time for either of us. It looks like I’m not going to have too much trouble getting Sam interested in the great outdoors. He’ll be ready for his first pair of hiking boots soon.