I heard this week with some interest, and some disgust, that a recent survey found disturbing results concerning the cleanliness of the male population in this part of the country. In particular, the research found that over 50% of men in this region had faecal matter on their hands. Apparently our friends down south are not nearly so mucky.
I wonder why this should be the case. Perhaps it's like herd immunity in reverse - maybe we have a critical mass of dirty buggers and no matter how clean the rest of us are, those sticky-fingered individuals make it difficult for the rest of us to avoid it.
It's reassuring to know that, as this region is also famed for the friendliness of its people, visitors from the clean south of the country will of course be welcomed with a hearty smile and a warm hand-shake.
The discrapancy across the country is fascinating, and it makes a change for those of us in the north to be the haves rather than the have nots. It would be really interesting to do some further research into the reasons behind these differences, but it will have to wait as I have a lot on my hands just now.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Monday, October 13, 2008
Points Deducted?
The markets seem to have reacted well following the G7’s announcement of a new 5-point plan to rescue the leading economies and banking systems of the world. Personally, I was a little perturbed.
If they had come out with a 4-point plan, or a 7-point plan, I’d have been reassured, but a 5-point plan is worrying to me. You can imagine the scenario…
Spin Doctor: “Excuse me Mr President, but would you mind dropping the last point of the plan? I’m sorry but all our research shows that a six-point plan just doesn’t sound quite right, and it’s all about instilling confidence in the market isn’t it?
George Bush: “But we’ve spent the whole weekend negotiamating this plan. Every point is crucial!”
Spin doctor: “Mmm…any chance you could come up with four more points? Ten point plans are good.”
My guess is that each of the G7 would have had a key point each, so I reckon at least two got ditched in an effort to make the plan more pleasing on the ear. I hope they weren’t the really good ones.
If they had come out with a 4-point plan, or a 7-point plan, I’d have been reassured, but a 5-point plan is worrying to me. You can imagine the scenario…
Spin Doctor: “Excuse me Mr President, but would you mind dropping the last point of the plan? I’m sorry but all our research shows that a six-point plan just doesn’t sound quite right, and it’s all about instilling confidence in the market isn’t it?
George Bush: “But we’ve spent the whole weekend negotiamating this plan. Every point is crucial!”
Spin doctor: “Mmm…any chance you could come up with four more points? Ten point plans are good.”
My guess is that each of the G7 would have had a key point each, so I reckon at least two got ditched in an effort to make the plan more pleasing on the ear. I hope they weren’t the really good ones.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
If only my head was smaller
I know it’s a corny way to start a post, but a very strange thing really did happen to me today. Well, to be more precise, it was a weird thing that was said to me.
I was having lunch with Jes and Mrs Tips, and we were depressing ourselves with serious talk of financial meltdowns and shrinking savings when Mrs Tips says, “I’ll show you my little hats once the custard is out of the way.”
Yes, you read it right, and no, she wasn’t drunk. I just sat back and drank it in. Lifted from the gloom of our discussion, I sat and marvelled at the unpredictability of a life that, just when you are not expecting it, throws something like that at you, as if to say, ‘ha, what do you think of that then?’. It was a beautiful moment. No-one has ever said it to me before, and never will again. In fact, I could spend the rest of my life researching bizarre conversations and not come up with anything better.
If it all gets too much for me and I pass away in my sleep tonight, then let it be known that I died a happy man. In fact, put it on my headstone:
‘Once the custard had moved
He got to see the little hats. RIP.’
And what lovely little hats they were. Once Mrs Tips had checked my hands for custardy remnants, I was even allowed to fondle them. Like little egg-cosies, all different designs, all soft and woolly. Apparently they are to be worn by smoothy bottles in a promotion to help the aged. Of course, why didn’t I think of that? For a moment, I thought the world was going mad.
I was having lunch with Jes and Mrs Tips, and we were depressing ourselves with serious talk of financial meltdowns and shrinking savings when Mrs Tips says, “I’ll show you my little hats once the custard is out of the way.”
Yes, you read it right, and no, she wasn’t drunk. I just sat back and drank it in. Lifted from the gloom of our discussion, I sat and marvelled at the unpredictability of a life that, just when you are not expecting it, throws something like that at you, as if to say, ‘ha, what do you think of that then?’. It was a beautiful moment. No-one has ever said it to me before, and never will again. In fact, I could spend the rest of my life researching bizarre conversations and not come up with anything better.
If it all gets too much for me and I pass away in my sleep tonight, then let it be known that I died a happy man. In fact, put it on my headstone:
‘Once the custard had moved
He got to see the little hats. RIP.’
And what lovely little hats they were. Once Mrs Tips had checked my hands for custardy remnants, I was even allowed to fondle them. Like little egg-cosies, all different designs, all soft and woolly. Apparently they are to be worn by smoothy bottles in a promotion to help the aged. Of course, why didn’t I think of that? For a moment, I thought the world was going mad.
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