The weekend: In which Furtle incinerates CDs and Caddy gets a numb bum

As is custom in these here parts, the final few minutes of the weekend are taken in recording the earlier hours. What with one thing and another it has been a busy time.

We dragged ourselves out of bed reasonably early on Saturday to swab the decks and ensure that the Carpathia was all ship-shape and Bristol fashion ahead of the anticipated arrival of karen_lilley and fenwolfchile. A breakfast of beans, scambled egg and toast was followed by chores of the aforementioned swabbing and ship-shaping variety. We finished some while before the guests arrived and took time out with the computers. Furtle took the opportunity to rip a number of her classical CDs on to her computer before shifting some papers over a lighted candle and burning CDs in quite the wrong way. I first became aware of the event, engrossed as I was, inches away, by a sudden squawk that was most Anglo Saxon in its forthrightness at which I turned to see a pillar of flame such as God might have visited upon the Bottled City of Kandor had He been a) a comic geek, b) a Marvel fan and c) the said bottled city been up to naughtiness disliked by biblical scholars. A moment or two of frantic scrambling ensued, and happily disaster was averted with minimal damage to everything save a half dozen CDs and a singed paw (which now sports a small but tell-tale blister).

Shortly thereafter karen_lilley and fenwolfchile arrived and after refreshments we made out collective way into the West End to attend the signing of _tonylee_'s Doctor Who comic, The Forgotten at Orbital. There followed a trip to Zavvi to pick up a new CD folder to replace that damaged in The Great Fire. Additional and unrelated CDs may have been acquired too.

Thence to the Angel on St Giles High Street whence _tonylee_ and assorted entourage had decamped for refreshment after signing literally a number of comics.

It was during the fourth hour of this sojourn that your hero found his posterior becoming numb after sitting on a majestically uncomfortable bar stool for that period. Around nine we decamped back to the Carpathia in time to order an Indian takeout from the people for whom I shall always be "Mr Taylor", despite Mr Taylor having moved from the area just after I moved here (coincidence?) and never having lived in the Carpathia.... Wine was drunk, curry consumed and talk talked.

Today we rose a little later and the four of us did little but lounge and loll for three fours or so before returning North. After they had gone home we availed ourselves of the opportunity to do the grocery shopping, watch the first two episodes of Heroes season 3 and then got busy with some serious lounging and lolling.

"That's all" she wrote.

Time for a shower, I think.

The weekend: In which Furtle incinerates CDs and Caddy gets a numb bum

As is custom in these here parts, the final few minutes of the weekend are taken in recording the earlier hours. What with one thing and another it has been a busy time.

We dragged ourselves out of bed reasonably early on Saturday to swab the decks and ensure that the Carpathia was all ship-shape and Bristol fashion ahead of the anticipated arrival of karen_lilley and fenwolfchile. A breakfast of beans, scambled egg and toast was followed by chores of the aforementioned swabbing and ship-shaping variety. We finished some while before the guests arrived and took time out with the computers. Furtle took the opportunity to rip a number of her classical CDs on to her computer before shifting some papers over a lighted candle and burning CDs in quite the wrong way. I first became aware of the event, engrossed as I was, inches away, by a sudden squawk that was most Anglo Saxon in its forthrightness at which I turned to see a pillar of flame such as God might have visited upon the Bottled City of Kandor had He been a) a comic geek, b) a Marvel fan and c) the said bottled city been up to naughtiness disliked by biblical scholars. A moment or two of frantic scrambling ensued, and happily disaster was averted with minimal damage to everything save a half dozen CDs and a singed paw (which now sports a small but tell-tale blister).

Shortly thereafter karen_lilley and fenwolfchile arrived and after refreshments we made out collective way into the West End to attend the signing of _tonylee_'s Doctor Who comic, The Forgotten at Orbital. There followed a trip to Zavvi to pick up a new CD folder to replace that damaged in The Great Fire. Additional and unrelated CDs may have been acquired too.

Thence to the Angel on St Giles High Street whence _tonylee_ and assorted entourage had decamped for refreshment after signing literally a number of comics.

It was during the fourth hour of this sojourn that your hero found his posterior becoming numb after sitting on a majestically uncomfortable bar stool for that period. Around nine we decamped back to the Carpathia in time to order an Indian takeout from the people for whom I shall always be "Mr Taylor", despite Mr Taylor having moved from the area just after I moved here (coincidence?) and never having lived in the Carpathia.... Wine was drunk, curry consumed and talk talked.

Today we rose a little later and the four of us did little but lounge and loll for three fours or so before returning North. After they had gone home we availed ourselves of the opportunity to do the grocery shopping, watch the first two episodes of Heroes season 3 and then got busy with some serious lounging and lolling.

"That's all" she wrote.

Time for a shower, I think.

Thought for the Day...

If you had purchased £1000 of Northern Rock shares one year ago it would now be worth £4.95, with HBOS, earlier this week your £1000 would have been worth £16.50, £1000 invested in XL Leisure would now be worth less than £5, but if you bought £1000 worth of Fullers London Pride one year ago, drank it all, then took the empty cans to an aluminium re-cycling plant, you would get £214. So based on the above statistics the best current investment advice is to drink heavily and re-cycle.

Courtesy John O'C of the Accrington Cylindricals quiz team

Thought for the Day...

If you had purchased £1000 of Northern Rock shares one year ago it would now be worth £4.95, with HBOS, earlier this week your £1000 would have been worth £16.50, £1000 invested in XL Leisure would now be worth less than £5, but if you bought £1000 worth of Fullers London Pride one year ago, drank it all, then took the empty cans to an aluminium re-cycling plant, you would get £214. So based on the above statistics the best current investment advice is to drink heavily and re-cycle.

Courtesy John O'C of the Accrington Cylindricals quiz team

Footie

I rarely blather on about sport here, unless there’s something funny to comment on, but I have to say that I am impressed by Wolves’ start to the season.

As a supporter of the team for over 30 years, I am used to being disappointed by them; since I have been taking an active interest, they have spent their longest period outside the top flight in their history, made Europe but once and only won one major trophy (and a minor one). They have picked up a number of promotions following the disastrous period in the 80s that saw the club go bankrupt twice, followed by relegation, promotion and then three successive relegations at the end of which they briefly sat at the bottom of 92 professional clubs, 5 minutes from going bankrupt a third time and disappearing into history.

Narrowly missing out on promotion after an impressive turn around under Graham Turner, they achieved two successive promotions and then stalled in the second tier, where they remain, despite a brief and unsuccessful flirtation with the Premiership on 2003.

Most seasons they manage enough of a run at some point in the season to flood me with what tends to prove to be unfounded hope and we settle down for another season of dog fighting in what is now the Championship.

This season, however, after eight games they have won seven and dropped only two points, remaining unbeaten in the league. The team’s best start in 60 years has got me all hopeful again and for once I don’t find myself apologising for being a Wolves supporter. It’s great.

There are a lot of Spurs fans in the office and for once, I am not the really glum person on a Monday morning.

Footie

I rarely blather on about sport here, unless there’s something funny to comment on, but I have to say that I am impressed by Wolves’ start to the season.

As a supporter of the team for over 30 years, I am used to being disappointed by them; since I have been taking an active interest, they have spent their longest period outside the top flight in their history, made Europe but once and only won one major trophy (and a minor one). They have picked up a number of promotions following the disastrous period in the 80s that saw the club go bankrupt twice, followed by relegation, promotion and then three successive relegations at the end of which they briefly sat at the bottom of 92 professional clubs, 5 minutes from going bankrupt a third time and disappearing into history.

Narrowly missing out on promotion after an impressive turn around under Graham Turner, they achieved two successive promotions and then stalled in the second tier, where they remain, despite a brief and unsuccessful flirtation with the Premiership on 2003.

Most seasons they manage enough of a run at some point in the season to flood me with what tends to prove to be unfounded hope and we settle down for another season of dog fighting in what is now the Championship.

This season, however, after eight games they have won seven and dropped only two points, remaining unbeaten in the league. The team’s best start in 60 years has got me all hopeful again and for once I don’t find myself apologising for being a Wolves supporter. It’s great.

There are a lot of Spurs fans in the office and for once, I am not the really glum person on a Monday morning.