Gordon Ramsay, Superstar

For those unfamiliar with Gordon Ramsay, he is what has come to be known as a "celebrity chef". His gimmick is that he swears a lot (supposedly), and this has produced the title of his television programme "The F Word", which I watched last night. I actually find watching the programme quite stressful because the way it is produced makes cooking in a restaurant look so frenzied that it reminds me of how I imagine warfare to be. Having said that, Ramsay is certainly more entertaining than most of the celebrity chefs, and I suspect, at the end of the day, he is probably quite a good cook.

One of Gordon's endearing features is that he always seems prepared to "have a go" at anything from diving for scallops, shearing sheep, to milking a buffalo----while not quite avoiding a torrent of urine and crap. The buffalo incident occurred in Scotland where Gordon decided to make Scotland's first buffalo mozzarella. I was going to post about the incident that happened on that trip but wasn't televised: namely a collision between Mr Ramsay's four-wheel-drive and that driven by the farmer. However, I then noticed another article.

Apparently, a recent pole in Esquire Magazine voted Gordon Ramsay as the most admired man. Bizarrely, he beat Professor Stephen Hawking into second place! I know Esquire readers are not necessarily representative of the British Public as a whole, but can they really not find someone better to vote for than a cook with a giant ego and a penchant for expletives?

I really worry about where our society is going sometimes....

Bear Necessities

No, it is not April Fool's Day. It's actually true that the US military is developing a robot with a teddy bear-style head to help carry injured soldiers away from the battlefield. Its even got a snappy acronym: Battlefield Extraction Assist Robot IE BEAR (geddit?).

Apparently, the "friendly appearance" of the robot is designed to put the wounded at ease.

I'm sure having these gangly machines wandering about the battlefields of the world will make them altogether much cuddlier places to be!

I Love Paris

I was pleased to hear that Paris Hilton has decided to accept her prison sentence, and is not going to appeal against it again. She is said to "learning and growing" from her ordeal.

Paris says that "Being in jail is by far the hardest thing I have ever done." but that's not saying much is it?

No doubt she's already toting up in her evil little brain how much she can sell the story for.

A Threat We Must Ignore

I note that Abdalla El-Badri, who is the secretary-general of Opec (the oil cartel), has stated that investment in biofuels could push oil prices "through the roof". If that isn't a threat, I don't know what is.

Opec members control about 40% of the world's oil production, and El-Badri warns that moves to use biofuels would make his members consider cutting investment in new oil production.

This sort of rhetoric demonstrates the ridiculous position we have got ourself into with our worrying dependence on fossil fuels. The only way out of this, in the long term, is to expand the use of alternative fuel sources.

We cannot afford to be bullied by international gangsters like this.

Positively Agricultural!

Views from the Empire State Building 3
Originally uploaded by Son of Groucho.

I was fascinated to read in this article about the idea of using the rooftops of New York to grow food. New York Sun Works claim that if hydroponic systems were installed on the city's 14,000 acres of unshaded rooftop, the setup could feed as many as 20 million people in New York City and the surrounding metropolitan area year round!

Apparently New York, unlike some other major cities, ships in practically all its food. The group make the point that growing local produce could cut carbon emissions by reducing the need for trucks to deliver vegetables from long distances.

Just think how different the view from the top of the Empire State Building would be if most of the rooftops were covered with hydroponic greenhouses!

I can't see it happening in my lifetime!

The Turn Of The Screw

I always think that describing somebody as "having a screw loose" is a great way of implying their mental instability. It seems somehow appropriate, therefore, that some strange person has created the Screw Asylum where they can collect "defective screw related data".

The question is "Why?"

Some suggestions are given here, but I suspect the author would reply "Why not?"

On the Theme of Spam

There are several versions of this video on YouTube. I think this one has Portuguese subtitles, confirming the delightful fact that the Portuguese for Spam is, in fact, Spam.

I always thought that Spam was an acronym for "Specially Processed American Meat", but the Wikipedia article on the subject doesn't mention this as a possibility. It appears that the origins of the name are "lost in the mists of time". This gap in our knowledge has led to less-than-kind suggestions like "Something Posing As Meat". It is interesting to see that the two countries with the highest Spam consumption are the UK and South Korea----brothers under the skin, right enough!

It is a sobering fact that this year is Spam's seventieth anniversary. This and other fascinating facts can be found at Spam.com, a rather scarily professional website populated by a group of overenthusiastic spamaholics.

I think I'll go and have a cheese sandwich....

Romance Is Not Dead

It may surprise you to find out that I am a bit of a romantic. However, I'm also a Scotsman and, as you know, romance can be a bit on the expensive side. An elderly patient that I looked after a while ago told me that her husband, when he was alive, used to buy her flowers every week. I made the grave error of mentioning this to Wosog, and she keeps bringing it up from time to time!

Imagine my delight, therefore, when I stumbled across a Zen Habits post entitled "50 Ways to Be Romantic on the Cheap". Zen Habits is a great source of what the geeks call "life hacks", or what you and I call survival tips. This article is no exception. Flowers are mentioned, for example, but they are wild flowers. Many of the other examples cost nothing too----although some are a wee bit time-consuming. I can't really see Wosog and I reading poetry together, but snuggling together on a rainy day sounds easy, and could even lead to savings on heating costs.

Wosog better not take me for granted, though. One of the nurses on the ward where I work said that one of the patients told her I was "a bit of a looker."

Admittedly the patient was 92 years old, but she did have some of her own teeth.

Ian Mckellen gives Ricky Gervais acting advice

I've recently become a major fan of Ricky Gervais. I've bought the complete boxed set of The Office DVDs, and the DVDs of the first series of Extras.

Here we see Ricky getting acting advice from a Master.

Well I thought it was funny....

A Little Education

The internet is a tremendous educational resource. I've stated previously that I though one could find information about anything on the world wide web. A picture, as they say, paints a thousand words and the ability to post easily video clips has greatly enhanced the web's educational potential. My Flickr friend Juliet, in sunny Wales, recently pointed me in direction of this video about how to avoid flashing your knickers when you get out of a car. Personally, I have not put the advice here into practice yet, but if I ever wear a kilt the clip's "relevance quotient" would probably rocket.

The site that the clip above comes from has videos on all sorts of subjects. The other day I came across it's instructional video on "how to kiss someone passionately".

I've brought the video to Wosog's attention, but so far she hasn't taken the hint...

Loch Lomond From Drumkinnon Tower

Loch Lomond From Drumkinnon Tower
Originally uploaded by Son of Groucho.

Sometimes it's good to remind myself what a lovely part of the World I live in!

[Click on the photo to see comments and where this picture was taken from.]

The Joy of Lego

I've previously posted about how much I loved Lego as a child. Isn't it somehow reassuring in these hi tech times that those little brightly coloured bricks can still inspire people to produce highly useful and/or creative projects? Take the Rubber Band Chaingun, for example. This combines a love of Lego with the puerile desire to flick rubber bands at unsuspecting people or, if they are not available, inanimate objects. As the YouTube video demonstrates, this awesome weapon efficiently allows you to unleash wanton destruction, or at least a very nasty weal.

Lego is also useful in the creative field. Apparently, Nathan Sawaya gave up a career as a lawyer to make a living as a Lego artist (one lawyer down, x thousand to go). The video link in the article shows some of his creations and tells the stories behind them. Sawaya recounts how, while other lawyers went to the gym to wind down after work, he would get back to his Lego to rewind. He spends $200,000 per year on his little bricks, so I think he must be doing quite well! It appears that pink Lego is particularly expensive. At the end of the video, he reluctantly admits that being a Lego artist is marginally more fun than being an attorney.

Surely not?

An Electrifying Experience

Thanks to FlyButtafly on Flickr for pointing me in the direction of this video. I've always been terrified of heights, but the idea of flying on the outside of a helicopter to go for a crawl along a high tension cable definitely seems bizarre to me!

I really don't have enough excitement in my life!

Die reinste freude ist die schadenfreude

I am currently reading a book called "Haunted" by Chuck Palhniuk, most famous as the author of "Fight Club", which was made into a successful film. As might be expected, "Haunted" is a slightly odd book made up of a selection of short stories. I came across the title of this post in one of them.

I don't speak German, but I believe the phrase translates roughly as "Our purest joy comes when we view the misfortune of others." Ninjawords translates schadenfreude as "the malicious glee experienced from someone else's misfortune". It is by far the most popular word listed on Wordie (one of my internet obsessions), and forms the basis of much that we think of as humour. Even Dogbert has been known to "get in on the act."

Although I suspect most of them do not analyse it, shadenfreude is the reason why so many people buy their doom-laden newspapers every day. To use the vernacular, "I may have a crap life, but I can read in here about loads of people whose lives are even worse!"

Schadenfreude is an intrinsically lovely word and it carries, or at least used to carry, an air of learning about it. The discussion about the word on Wordie is interesting. Alguien suggests that:

"Due to flagrant overuse, schadenfreude has been depreciated from a twenty-dollar word to a dime a dozen. If only the supply of words could be restricted in the same manner as currency."

But why is the word, or at least the tendency it describes, so popular? It's hardly our most attractive characteristic! Dbmag9 on Wordie puts it very well, in my opinion:

"Schadenfreude seems to be one of the most primal pleasures. Television shows abound are filled with examples: man falls off ladder, child flies off swing, bucket falls onto woman. In one sense it is a valuable learning experience: you are glad you weren't in that position, and make a note not to be in it yourself. But why is it so funny? The only answer I can give is that it expresses the joy you have, build in by millennia of evolutionary conditioning, that you were not the weak one who ended the chain, that, whilst others may fail, you go on to live another day."

Odd creatures, we humans, aren't we?

The Fat of the Land 2

I've referred to the global obesity epidemic before, and living in the UK you only have to look around you to see the growing bulk of your fellow countrymen and women. However, I think this web page illustrates so graphically to what extent the USA and the UK lead the World in this regard. This league table does raise some intriguing questions, however. Why, for example, does Ireland do so much better than the UK? Why does Turkey do so much better then Greece?

The other thing that prompted me to think about obesity was not gazing at the bathroom scales this morning, but reading about this 32 stone man who had to be airlifted from a luxury cruise ship by helicopter recently.

Suddenly I feel quite svelte...

Do You Want An Argument?

I'm working tonight, so I thought I'd give you this video to keep you amused.

I Feel Quite Queasy Already

It may surprise you to find out that I am not much of a thrill-seeker. As a child I was never really a fan of fairground rides. Even going on a fairly sedate Ferris wheel in the Kelvin Hall in Glasgow as a teenager made me feel sick, and the idea of subjecting my body to various unnatural forces at somewhere like Alton Towers fills me with horror.

Bearing this in mind, you will not be surprised to discover that this new attraction at the Kennedy Space Center would definitely not be my "cup of tea". Astronauts are paid (quite well, I suspect) to have their bodies thrown around in this manner. Why anybody would pay the center for the experience of "being in a dragster, peeling out from zero to 100 in three seconds, then keeping your foot to the floor for a full six minutes until you reach 17,500 mph." is quite beyond my ken! According to the Wired article, "Inside the capsule, riders are subject to an onslaught of 13-channel sound, from the roar of the engines to the commander barking instructions. Low-frequency sound vibrates the riders' chests, evoking the feeling of being unable to breathe." Now that's what I don't call entertainment!

But then I am an old fart.

The Problem With Scotland

People often ask Wosog and I why we always go on holidays abroad when we live in such a beautiful country. Today's experience is a perfect example of why we behave in this way, irresponsibly expanding our carbon footprint in the process.

This being Summer (or so we had been led to believe), and having recently joined the National Trust for Scotland, we decided to set out in the car for Culzean Castle in Ayrshire. Wosog had been there before and we knew it was an interesting building set in a country park that had other attractions. The weather was slightly overcast as we left but Wosog, the eternal optimist, was confident that conditions would improve by the time we got to the other side of the River Clyde. In fact the sky got steadily more and more grey as we headed towards our destination, and (surprise! surprise!) the rain was bucketing down as we ate our lunch in a hotel just outside Ayr.

The rain continued all the time we were at the Castle. Unfortunately the National Trust, in its "wisdom", doesn't allow photography inside their buildings. Photographs of the exterior of the building were snatched at odd intervals where shelter allowed. Overall, it was hardly the enjoyable photographic experience that we had planned.

Scotland is a beautiful country, and I'm sure the coastal route to Culzean would have been stunning on a sunny day. The difficulty is that we seem to get so few sunny days----and I always seem to be at work during them. That is a problem, and until it's solved I'll continue to spend my hard-earned holidays in sunnier climes!

For Those Who Remember The Lone Ranger....

This is an interview with a guy called Jay Thomas, who I don't know, but I do remember the Lone Ranger.

It's a funny story.

Why Complain?

Like many British folk, I don't like complaining. On a number of occasions in the past I've been in a restaurant, say, and been served food that was not quite up to par, but I've just eaten it or left it, rather than make a fuss about it. Many Brits don't like to attract attention to themselves in public places, and in restaurants there is always the possibility that your food may return to you having been, let's say, adulterated in some way.

I've been in a few hotel rooms that I wasn't entirely happy with too. Again, I don't remember complaining often: too embarrassing. I much prefer the anonymity of slagging them off on Expedia when I return home.

On the subject of hotel rooms, some people seem to love all the little soaps, bath oils etc. that are commonly found there. I've recently developed hand eczema, so I now have a little collection of bottles of moisturisers from hotels, but apart from this aspect these things don't really register with me. I recently came across this account of a hotel guest's unhappiness with the soap supply in his hotel bedroom. It certainly wouldn't encourage me to start doing any more on-site complaining!

I think the moral of the story is "If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop digging".

Sky Reflected

Sky Reflected
Originally uploaded by Son of Groucho.

Evening sky reflected in the River Clyde.

[Click on the photo to see comments and where it was taken].

A Loada Balls

Under the headline "Happy eaters of the week" last week's Sunday Times' "This life" section had an article about people attending the ninth annual Testicle Festival in Elderon, Wisconsin. The menu included the relevant parts of goats, lambs and bulls. Apparently the festival founder Nancy Fenske said testicles were "not so different from regular meatballs" and posed the question "What else can you do in a small town?" What else, indeed?

As part of my extensive research for this blog post, I put "testicle festival" into Google (if you pardon the pun). Imagine my surprise at finding 4850 hits detailing, amongst other things, festivals in Montana and Illinois. For those keen to pursue the subject further, here's a search for "testicle recipes".

For some reason writing this post has made me squirm uncomfortably in my seat.

Stand By Your Man

After the successes of the Women's Liberation Movement there are now few activities that are the sole preserve of men. Naively perhaps, one might have considered that peeing standing up was one of them, but no more, it seems.

Enter the Shewee----a brilliantly simple (and cheap) device that "allows women to urinate whilst standing or sitting without removing clothes". Apparently, "For the backpacking woman, there are many times when exposing bare flesh to the conditions can be unpleasant or embarrassing. Also the late night wander can be avoided and peeing into a bottle is now possible - bliss!"

Ah, the Simple Pleasures of Life, indeed!

Greetings!

I recently came across this site, which I think is absolutely hilarious. It allows you to send electronic greetings cards (eCards). "Nothing new in that!" you say, but many of these particular cards have a sting in their tail. One of my favourites is "Congratulations on not getting me pregnant." Another gem is "Get well soon so that I find you attractive again."

Which veiled insult do you think is the best?

Diminished Responsibility

Diminished Responsibility
Originally uploaded by Son of Groucho.

I have worked as a Police Surgeon for many years. Most of the time the work involves seeing prisoners, usually drug addicts, in the cells, but we also have to see patients who have died unexpectedly, partly to see if there are any suspicious circumstances to the death.

In the early hours of 15th June last year I was asked to visit an address in Dumbarton. An emergency call had been made for an ambulance. The initial gist of the panicked phone call was that an elderly lady had collapsed in her home, but when the crew arrived to find the lady lying dead in her bedroom surrounded by blood with a large hole in her neck they surmised that something might be amiss.

I’ve been to a number of crime scenes over the years, but this was probably the bloodiest. Details of the subsequent court case can be found by clicking on the picture, but the outcome was that the poor woman had been stabbed while she slept by her grandson, who was only 15 years old at the time.

We will probably never know exactly what went on in that house but, on the surface of it, McAlpine stabbed his grandmother after she threatened to “wash her hands of him” if his behaviour didn’t improve! You really wonder what provocation would drive a 15 year old into such a rage that he would stab an elderly woman 23 times.

On the way home in the car this evening I heard how a teenager had been killed in Blackpool by a single stab wound to the chest. We clearly have to convince our young people that carrying knives can lead to tragedy---for all age groups.

Back from the grave---again!

I've decided to revive The Voice of Reason. It's the fault of my brother in law, Bilosog. I met him in a shop in Glasgow at the weekend and he berated me for not blogging. He's retired, the lucky bugger, while I am still dragging myself out of bed every day to earn an honest shilling or two. I should be telling him to take up blogging since he's got plenty of time to do it!

I'm not sure what has made me "take up the cudgel" again. Many (both?) of you probably think it's a false dawn, and that I won't keep it up---well, we'll see! Anyway, I've decided to change to Blogger's new, improved system and appear to have lost many of my page elements (including all the old comments) in the process! Please bear with me while I try and find at least some of them. I've got a funny feeling that the old comments are gone for ever, though, since I'm probably just going to use Blogger's commenting set up.

Anyway, there we have it: the new, improved (well, eventually) Voice of Reason: God bless Her and He who rants in her!

Merry Christmas

Our Christmas Card
Originally uploaded by Son of Groucho.

Couldn't go a whole month without posting anything, so here it is. Hope that anyone reading this has a Great Christmas.

Hope Santa brought you all you wished for......

The Increasing Prevalence Of Multiple Diplomatosis

When Wosog and I both went to university (when dinosaurs roamed the Earth) only a small proportion of school pupils were expected to go onto Higher Education (around 10-15 %, I think). Now it seems that the job market of hi tech 21st Century UK plc requires a much higher proportion of the population to have a degree. I believe the current figure is over 40%, but The Powers That Be (in their infinite wisdom) would like it to be nearer 50%. Political correctness discourages the notion that many of today's degrees don't carry quite the same weight as degrees obtained in our day, but I suggest that the content of many of these courses, and the resultant poor job prospects conferred by their degrees leaves a lot to be desired. Meanwhile, the country is crying out for skilled tradesmen who can still, by some miracle, manage to perform some really quite complex tasks without, at present, having to have a degree.

The mindless expansion of Higher Education has created enormous financial difficulties for the universities, producing the ludicrous situation where students are to be asked to pay bigger and bigger fees to gain a degree that is essentially worthless when it comes to finding a job. Students who are being asked to pay these fees are now becoming more demanding. I heard on the radio yesterday that students of history at, I think, Bristol University are protesting about a lack of lecture time! The lecturers are being encouraged to do more research, since that brings money into the university. Meanwhile, the students are being told to do more work on their own, particularly online. Some of them are making the point that they could easily do that off their own bat, without paying hefty fees to the university!

The University of Bums on Seats seems to me to sit perfectly (pardon the pun) with the ethos of modern British Higher Education. It really sounds as if one could progress effortlessly through the courses there and leave brandishing a substantial piece of paper to wave under the nose of a prospective employer. In fact, Wosog awarded herself a PhD in counseling the other night. I have to call her Dr Wosog from now on. Their Fasttrack E-degrees sound like just the ticket for the disgruntled history students of Bristol.

The worrying thing is it could almost be real, or am I just being a bit cynical?

Peeved

I'm on holiday for the next 4 days (did you know that, Wosog?) so I've got loads of time to blog (you lucky people, you). However, I've had a bad start to the day. I've just discovered that, despite volunteering, I'm not going to be included in the Men of Flickr Calendar this year!

This is a picture of the chosen twelve. Now, I ask you, are any of them as handsome as I am? Personally, I think there is a clearly shown bias against men with bushy eyebrows and mustaches here that is totally unacceptable in our modern world. Anyway, I'll get over it.

Gnome Alert

As the proud possessor of 3 garden gnomes, and the founder member of the thriving Flickr Group "Home for Gnomes", I was disturbed to read in the Sunday Times today, as well as the USA Today website, of the snatching of almost 80 of the little chaps in France. Apparently they were "freed" by gnome rights activists known as The Front for the Liberation of Garden Gnomes.

These French fanatics, rather like Al Queda, having tentacles spreading throughout the Globe. I am thinking of installing cc tv cameras in our back garden.

I ask you, is nothing sacred these days?

Now That's What I Call Art 2

A Few Paintings We Brought Home 5
Originally uploaded by Son of Groucho.

Further to my previous rant about the deficiencies of modern art, I was fascinated to read yesterday that a 4' by 8' board covered with dripped-on paint by Jackson Pollock, and imaginatively titled No 5, 1948, had sold for a world record $140 million (£73.35 million). It's not the worst piece of modern art I've seen, but I won't be saving up to try and prise it from it's current owner in a few years time.

The article in the Independent newspaper did, however, also inform me that this picture by Van Gogh, that I photographed in the Musee d'Orsay changed hands in 1990 for $82.5 million (£47.1 million). Who knows what it would fetch now? It's interesting to speculate on the monetary value of the total contents of that museum....

Where Have All The Heroes Gone?

Where Have All The Heroes Gone?
Originally uploaded by Son of Groucho.

One of the places we visited in our recent wee trip to Paris was the Hotel des Invalides. This amazing building was constructed by Louis XIV in the 1670s as a residential village for up to 4000 invalides (disabled veterans) who were begging in the streets of Paris. The courtyard is now used for military parades. Behind the four-storey classical facade is the Dome Church (Eglise du Dome). Les Invalides was built between 1677 and 1735: the dome took 27 years to build.

The Eglise du Dome now houses the Tomb of Napoleon. His remains are encased in 5 coffins and a sarcophagus of red porphyry. The church also contains the tomb of Ferdinand Foch (see above), and the rather beautiful tomb of Hubert Lyautey. I had never heard of the latter, but I like his tomb, and I'd quite like mine to be similar (Wosog please note).

My point is this: can you think of a single modern politician, or military leader, in the world today that would be so revered by their public that the latter would support a memorial of this magnitude? I can't. Maybe this is just a cynical age, and we all look too readily for less-than-altruistic motivation behind the actions of our leaders? Maybe it will take a truly global conflict (God forbid) to bring forward men of true stature? I don't know, but I do know for certain that there would be a huge public outcry in the UK if it was proposed that any of our current so-called leaders, or indeed former prime ministers, be immortalised in this way.

Where have all the heroes gone?

Now That's What I Call Art!

On the first day of our recent visit to Paris we revisited the Musee d'Orsay. This is housed in an old railway station that is itself a work of art. It's amazing to think that the authorities were at one time thinking of demolishing it to make way for a giant hotel. On the lower levels of the museum there are some amazing examples of sculpture while the upper levels contain the impressionist and postimpressionist paintings that Wosog and I really like. Wouldn't it have been nice to bring home a little Manet, Degas, Toulouse-Lautrec, a Renoir or a Van Gogh? Unfortunately, security arrangements at the museum meant that all we could take were photographs, but a guy can dream, can't he?

To me, this is real art: in total contrast with the pathetic modern "sculptures" etc we saw at the Guggenheim Museum in New York in April. These and other examples of modern art, such as those we struggled not to giggle at at the Modern Art Museum in Barcelona, to me have no more artistic validity than paintings made out of toast and marmite.

But then, I am a Philistine....

Back From The Dead

Wosog's Little Friend
Originally uploaded by Son of Groucho.

I'm not a very disciplined individual. I find it difficult to concentrate on one subject for long. Bearing that in mind, it is probably surprising that I have managed to keep blogging for 2 years. Recently I've had pretty severe "blogger's block". There is also the small matter of "real life getting in the way". Once you get out of the habit of posting, it's really quite difficult to get back into it again, but I'm going to make a concerted effort to do so.

As a start, I present this intriguing picture of The Bold Wosog confronting a plucky little ghost in the Catacombes de Paris recently. What happened next was reminiscent of a episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Wosog may be small, but she's not phased by a bit of ectoplasm.

There will be more of our Paris trip, including visiting the dead, both above and below ground, in future exciting episodes of The Voice of Reason.

Is It Really That Long?

I know this is a provocative title, but I don't want any sniggering at the back there! I am referring to the fact that I have now been blogging for 2 years. Recently I have been a very lazy blogger, and to show that I have reached the zenith of lazy blogging, what follows is a verbatim thread from my Flickr Friend little hobbit feet's post to the group Flickr Weirdies of the World:

"Everyone knows that if you are going to operate a business in today's world you need a domain name. It is advisable to look at the domain name selected as others see it and not just as you think it looks. Failure to do this may result in situations such as the following (legitimate) companies who deal in everyday humdrum products and services but clearly didn't give their domain names enough consideration:

1. At a site called "Who Represents" you can find the name of the agent that represents a celebrity.
Their domain name is http://www.whorepresents.com.

2. Experts Exchange is a knowledge base where programmers
can exchange advice and views at http://www.expertsexchange.com.

3. Looking for a pen? Look no further
than Pen Island at http://www.penisland.net .

4. Need a therapist?
Try Therapist Finder at http://www.therapistfinder.com.

5. Then of course, there's the Italian Power Generator
company's http://www.powergenitalia.com.

6. And now, we have the Mole Station Native Nursery, based
in New South Wales http://www.molestationnursery.com.

7. If you're looking for computer software,
there's always http://www.ipanywhere.com

8. Welcome to the First Cumming Methodist Church.
Their website is http://www.cummingfirst.com

9. Then, of course, there are the clueless art designers
with their wacky website http://www.speedofart.com.

10. Want to holiday in Lake Tahoe ?
Try their brochure website at http://www.gotahoe.com. "

Yes, they are all genuine. Do you know any others?

Empty Nest

The Lake from the bridge
Originally uploaded by Wosog.

I know I've been a very bad blogger (again) recently, but yesterday was such a momentous day that I felt I had to mark it with one of my rare blog posts. This picture from Wosog shows the campus of the University of Stirling. This is where Wosog and I deposited our beloved Gsog yesterday leaving our house very empty and very quiet. We are hoping that our second born returns from Stirling with a degree in accountancy. The game plan is that he becomes such a wealthy professional that he can boost my meagre pension from time to time and give me the retirement that I dream of.

The grounds of the university are, as you can see, quite spectacular with an impressive loch and views of the Wallace Monument and the Ochill Hills. Unfortunately Gsog's room in the hall of residence is somewhat smaller than he is used too and the decor is somewhat Spartan. This doesn't matter too much though, does it, when so much of his time will be spend leafing through weighty tomes in the University Library?

Anyway, hopefully this is "the start of something big" and the bold, long-haired Gsog will return from Stirling a stern, sobre-sided accountant. Watch this space.

Happy Landings

I know you're all (both?) desperate to find out how the balloon flight ended. Hey, you at the back, wake up I tell you! Well, after drifting for about an hour over the Perthshire countryside our expert pilot brought us down in a grassy field. Our flight had been a source of high anxiety to some of the creatures below: a herd of cows was seen to move in a very peculiar way, and a deer let out the most blood-curdling scream. A pheasant emerged from a hedge, looked up at us and dived out of sight into a field full of crops creating a frenetic rippling effect in the process.

Andre radioed his assistant to ask him if he could see where we had landed, but unfortunately the reply was that he couldn't. Andre decided it was best to take off again, and this time we alighted in a field that had been harvested. The prominent stubble in the field seemed to bring the basket to a more abrupt halt than the first time. We noticed that a herd of cattle in a field slightly further on seemed more than a little spooked by the appearance of a huge bizarre red object in their vicinity. The farmer who owned the beasts was on site within minutes in his four-wheel-drive rather forcibly "requesting" that Andre deflate the balloon. Although the pilot would rather have kept the balloon inflated for a bit longer to help his assistant see where we were, the farmer made it clear that this was not an option.

The farmer claimed that some of the animals were pregnant, and said that he was worried that the fright of seeing the balloon would induce premature labour. While this may have been true, I believe farmers have been know to tell a few fibs to get the balloonists to do what they want. Some, when they see the Virgin logo, simply demand that the pilot gets his cheque book out.

Finally, Andre's assistant arrived, we all helped pack the balloon back in its bag, and we then toasted the flight with champagne----very civilised indeed! The landrover took us back to Perth, ending an evening that I don't think any of us will forget.

The Flight of the Sog 2

The whole balloon.
Originally uploaded by Wosog.

We flew for about an hour, floating over Perth and out into the countryside. It was amazingly quiet, the only noise being the intermittent blast of the burner heating the air to keep us from plummeting to the ground. Because the weather was hazy we only flew at 500-700 feet. I believe they usually fly at around 3,000 feet, but I'm sure Andre said they could go to 5,000 feet.

Andre is not the most talkative of people, but he's a pretty interesting guy, and, as you can see from this page on the Virgin website, he's a very experienced flyer----not just of balloons. I noticed that the balloon had a gps (global positioning system), and I said to Andre that it must come in handy when his team had to complete the task of finding the balloon after it landed. "Do you know what gps stands for?", he said. "No.", I said. "Go phone someone.", he replied".

As we drifted out into the country, he pointed to a stretch of land to our left. Not all farmers are delighted, it seems, when the ballonists land in their fields. "The woman that owns all the fields along there is mad.", he said. Apparently, after he landed in this woman's field earlier in the season her son stabbed the virtually new £80,000 balloon in several places as well as attacking his landrover with a baseball bat and threatening him and his crew with a gun!

The Flight of the Sog 1

By the time we arrived in Perth, the weather was really quite spectacular, and we were confident that the flight was going to go ahead. We had a walk around the city of Perth, taking photographs of the buildings, and of an interesting graveyard! After two o'clock, we phoned the number that we had been given. We found that we got a recorded message telling us that, indeed, the flight was to go ahead. It said that the participants in the flight were to meet at “the stone sculpture” in South Insch Park. Our hotel was right next to the park, and we had sufficient time to explore the area in some detail. We found, what we thought was the stone sculpture, but we were not entirely sure that we had the right location!

At 18.30 Wosog and I made our way to the stone sculpture and waited for the balloon, and our fellow passengers, to arrive. At around 18.20 a young man who had travelled up from Preston, arrived at the stone sculpture. We were reassured that, at least one other person had made the same mistake as we had! At around 18.25 the balloon arrived at last. The problem that the balloonist had, however, was that he was missing eight passengers. The mystery was solved when a party of seven girls from Argyll were found around the stone statue of Sir Walter Scott that was located at the entrance of the park. We never did find the remaining one passenger.

After the fascinating process of inflating the balloon, we finally took to the skies over Perth around 19.30.

To Travel Hopefully?

As I stated previously, in June I booked the hot air balloon flight that my relatives had bought me for my fiftieth birthday. It was scheduled to take off from Perth around 18.00 on Saturday 19th August. I don't usually pay much attention to the weather forecast, but the week before the flight I was painfully aware of how the previously settled weather was deteriorating relentlessly as the weekend approached.

On the Friday in Glasgow the rain was so heavy that there was localised flooding! On Saturday morning I checked the weather forecast on the internet and it was predicting fog for Perth! I wasn't sure if the torrential rain that fell as we set off for Perth would cause the flight to be postponed, but I was fairly sure that fog wouldn't go down too well! We were supposed to phone a number after 2 o'clock to see if things were going to go ahead, but I was far from optimistic as we drove north. We had booked a hotel room for the Saturday night anyway.

In the event, the weather improved steadily as headed for Perthshire, so it looked like Wosog might get a chance to claim the life assurance after all!

The Fat of the Land

When I was a wee boy my mother always used to tell me, when I was reluctant to eat something, that I should "remember the starving children of the world". The relentless training to clear my plate from an early age is probably part of the reason why I am a fat bloater now, although I suspect that it has more to do with the fact that I am basically a lazy sod---like most of my fellow inhabitants of the Western World. However, I was still astounded today to read that world now has more overweight people than hungry ones.

According to this article, there are about 1.4 billion overweight people in the world as opposed to the 800 million that are undernourished. The global march----or perhaps waddle is more appropriate----towards obesity is only going to get worse as countries like India and China start to enjoy the "benefits" of growing prosperity. The "powers that be" are just starting to think about how they might try to influence the unhealthy trend towards increasing bulk. Having tried for years to encourage patients to lose weight, and failing miserably both with them and myself, I really do wish them luck!

It Brings Tears To Your Eyes

Another gem in this week's "This Life" column in the Sunday Times concerns a certain Mr Mario Visnjic who sat back in his beach deckchair after a refreshing swim. Unfortunately, he got a bit of a shock when he tried to stand up as his testicles had become stuck between the slats of the chair!

It seems that Mr Visnjic's testes had shrunk while he was skinny dipping in the sea off Valalta in western Croatia, but they had re-expanded in the sunshine and became wedged between the wooden slats. Fortunately he was able to summon an attendant with his mobile phone who released him by cutting the chair in half!

Wosog and I have periodically thought of visiting Eastern Europe, but I think we'll not bother.

The Blunt Facts

The Sunday Times' "This Life" column usually makes interesting reading. Amongst other things this week, it details the results of a survey of 2,059 adults to see what things they found most irritating. Perhaps surprising in view of the large amount of dosh he has made, or perhaps not so surprising, is the fact that James Blunt is the fourth most irritating thing after "cold callers", caravans, and queue jumpers (no surprises there).

Poor James is even ahead of Carol Vorderman (surely not?), traffic wardens and noisy neighbours!

My American friends will be pleased to find they only come in at number 46.

Cats that look like Hitler

I need to stop taking pictures of my cat.
Originally uploaded by little_hobbit_feet.

I've previously blogged about the fact that you can find a site about anything on the Interweb. This is Luther, the cat belonging to my Flickr friend little_hobbit_feet. Although he is IMHO an adorable moggy, he does bear a passing resemblance to a certain psychopathic German politician from the last century.

However, it would appear that he is not unique in this respect. This site hosts pictures of other felines with this dubious distinction. "Why?" you may ask. Well I don't really know.

Wosog loves donkeys....

Wosog loves donkeys....
Originally uploaded by Son of Groucho.

An amusing incident happened during our recent holiday in Santorini: well it seems funny now, anyway. We went to Fira one evening and made the fatal decision to walk down the steps to the Old Port. We knew that some people traveled the 580 or so steps on donkeys, but we thought we would walk down and get the cable car back up. We didn't realise that there were so many donkeys, and how much of their "droppings" covered the steps. I can honestly say that I have never seen so much crap in the one place at the one time! The bloody donkeys also seemed to have no sense of direction, and it was in places difficult to walk down the steps at all! Meanwhile, the sun was beating down, the smell was getting worse, and the bottom of the steps never seemed to come. Eventually we reached the Old Port and almost immediately came back up up by cable car with some nice elderly Italians. If either of us ever harboured any affection for donkeys before that day it certainly disappeared that evening in Greece.

I took the picture above to try and capture some of Wosog's discomfiture at confronting a morass of donkeys. Before anyone starts flinging accusations, I did not take this photo in order to capture the image of the attractive girl on the left. She just happened to be there! I make this point because similar unjustified accusations have come my way in the past.

I'll say no more on the subject.

I taught her all she knows....

Sail boat silhouette
Originally uploaded by Wosog.

Wosog and I have been married for 24 years this year ( yes, I am that old), and our anniversary is on the 10th of July. One of the things we did when we were in Santorini was to go on a cruise that was designed to let you view the sunset off Oia. I'd like to say it was deliberate, but by total coincidence the date of this trip fell on our anniversary. As you will imagine we both took lots of photographs of the sunset and this one taken by Wosog was her first picture to get into what is called Explore in Flickr.

Explore lists the 500 most interesting pictures uploaded to Flickr each day. Nobody knows how the Gods of Flickr measure interestingness, but there is no doubt that Explore contains some spectacular images. This photo not only got into explore but was listed very near the top. I think you'll agree it's a fabulous reminder of our 24 years together.

There I've said it: I'll go back to being a total cynic again!

A Great Break in Santorini

Wosog and I had a great holiday in Santorini. As I said in a previous post, Santorini is actually a group of islands. By far the biggest is Thera (or Thira), where we stayed, but the group also includes a smaller island called Thirasia, as well as two volcanic islands called Nea Kameni (which has several craters and last erupted in 1950) and Palea Kameni (which has hot springs). Finally there is tiny island with a prominent upper layer of pumice called Aspronisi. There are a few people on Thirasia but the vast majority of the Santorini population stay on Thera.

We stayed in Perissa, which is basically a beach resort. The apartments had quite a nice swimming pool, but Wosog, who loves to swim in the sea, didn't use it at all. They guy who looked after the pool was extremely obsessional about it. It was fascinating to watch him go through his routine every day, but it seemed to work because I don't think I've ever seen a cleaner pool! The Pool Man was middle-aged, and never smiled, partly because he was constantly nagged by his rather vain wife. We later found out that he was a retired Albanian policeman, which somehow seemed to explain a lot.

Behind Perissa, between it and the bigger resort of Kamari, is the small mountain Mesa Vouno that has the ruins of the city of Ancient Thera on top of it. In an effort to try and avoid excessive holiday weight gain, I actually climbed (or rather walked) up Mesa Vouno 3 times: once to photograph a little church perched on the side of the mountain, and twice to visit Ancient Thera (once without, and once with Wosog). Aren't you proud of me?

Unfortunately, it didn't work and I came back an even bigger blob than before. Don't worry, the diet has already started!

Tas Mania 3, and post-holiday depression

Well Gdog has made it to Australia. She had to travel all on her own down to London by train, get to Heathrow Airport, fly to Hongkong and finally fly to Melbourne. The initial stages of this mammoth voyage coincided with Wosog and I returning from sunny Santorini. As a result, we won't see The Little Princess for a total of six weeks: it must have been something we said!

An anxious Wosog tracked the migration of her baby by means of frequent text messages and slightly less frequent mobile phone calls. Gsog hadn't phoned her to see her off because he had forgotten when she was going ('nough said)! We were particularly concerned that the wee soul would fall asleep in Hongkong Airport and miss her flight to Oz. However we needn't have worried, and she is now recovering from her jet lag with my excellent cousin David who lives near Melbourne. In a few days she'll tie the corks to her wide-brimmed hat and join her fellow conservationists as they head off for Tasmania. Watch this space for more details.

As for me, I had a great holiday in Santorini (more of which later). However, I've just remembered the one thing that I don't like about holidays: the fact that you have to go back to work after them. I'll sign off now as I'm off to buy a lottery ticket.

Everyday Low Prices...

Many thanks to my friend Donna di Mondo on Flickr for pointing me in the direction of this excellent video.

Thank goodness none of our British supermarkets behave like this, eh?

My Political Compass

My Political Compass
Originally uploaded by Son of Groucho.

Thanks to Birdman for pointing me in the direction of this site that claims to be able to analyse your political position based on a detailed questionnaire.

I'm in the same quadrant as Gandhi, Nelson Mandela and the Dalai Lama: not too bad company!

Why don't you give it a go?

Off to Greece again...

Dedicated graecophiles Sog and Wosog are off to Greece again in the early hours of Tuesday morning. We are off to the island of Santorini this time. Basically, as you all may have suspected, Wosog decides where we are going, and I merely agree. Hence, I didn't realise until now that Santorini is actually a circular group of islands. Needless to say, I have no idea which of the group we are going to----I'll tell you when we get back!

We are leaving the house to be looked after by Gsog (why does a phrase that includes the words "lunatics" and "asylum" keep running through my head?). Gdog will also be keeping an eye on things---which is only slightly more reassuring. Thank goodness we have sensible neighbours!

Size doesn't matter?

Many thanks to SeenyaRita of Flickr for pointing me in the direction of this tragic tale.

It is quite funny, though, isn't it (in a gruesome sort of way)?