TWENTY FOUR MINUTE PARTY PEOPLE

The week's improved a little as the jet lag has faded. It's busy though. This weekend is Snicket's birthday party. It's a joint one with his mate and it seems like most of the class is coming along. As normal I am cast in the role of DJ Dad.

For the annual village Halloween bash I normally rent a CD Mixer, PA and lights for the full on disco experience, but it seems a little bit OTT for a birthday party, so I am planning to hook my iPod up to my little guitar amp and administer things from there. A head torch covered in a sellophane sweetie wrapper should suffice as the light show. Bugger.

I've bought this though.

EVERY DAY I WRITE THE BOOK

The day dawns.

I've been up three hours already due to West to East jetlag.
I have a telephone argument with a work colleague ending in me shouting at them and hanging up.
I take a call from our builder who tells me that the wall his guys built on Friday has been pushed over in the night. (We suspect our disgruntled neighbours who aren't happy with our extension. They are somewhat hard of thinking and unable to articulate their concerns in a more appropriate manner.)
I accidentally destroy the 1 gb memory stick out of my phone, killing evidence of two holidays and two interesting work trips.
My laptop seizes up. I hard reboot. It dies.
The customer cancels a major project at work, leaving me to sort out the aftermath.
One of their systems promptly falls over with a Severity 1 failure.

It's 8pm and the jet-lag returns. I ache for sleep.

Maybe tomorrow will be better.

EH?

I have just bought some noise cancelling headphones so I can tune out on a long trip east today.  How do they work?  I think it is probably just a scam for the gadgetally insane.  Nevertheless, I will let you know how it goes later.  I will be watching Cars.

SLEEPLESS IN SETTLE

There's a word for it.

Boo wakes up demanding milk. I get up, get it and give it. Now she's asleep and I'm writing crap lyrics and commenting on people's blogs whilst they too are asleep.

I'm going to London later on. It's for a very secret blogmeet. Yes I'm going with Mrs Backroads and she doesn't know about my nasty blogging habit, so how's that for the ultimate guerilla gig.

If you want to come and say hello though, that'd be nice. We'll be stood bickering in between G.A.Y. and the Harmony Adult Superstore on Charing Cross Road about 10.30pm. I'll be the baldy short-arse with the honey ten years his junior and the 'can't quite believe his luck' expression. But don't mention anything about the internet, or Jill Halfpenny, or Amsterdam.

She thinks I was in Catford.

L'ETRANGER

Note to self: Must get some baps on the way home.

CAMUS FEEL THE NOISE

I sit hunkered into the snug of a street corner bar in old Amsterdam.

Tonight the home side have held England to a draw but I am not here for the football. I am here by chance. I sit waiting for the outpouring of despondent fans off to drown their sorrows or find comfort in the pigeon chest of some Latvian teen in a dayglo bikini. I am all cozy. I sip on a large single malt whilst listening to the Gotan Project tango in the night. Hands up for Dwarsstraat. I love this city.

GLORY DAYS

Did anyone listen to FiveLive Breakfast yesterday? A whole feature on Shy Bladder and Shy Bowel Syndrome. Laugh, I nearly peed myself, except I couldn't because I was in traffic and the truckers were putting me off. It's serious though. Very serious.

The bloke being interviewed was so insecure that he felt that if he went into a cubicle to have a wee, his mates would immediately conclude that he was a gay cruiser. How ridiculous is that? You'd never get a festively decorated narrowboat into the cubicle at Worksop Services would you? Not unless you poked it through one of those holes people make under the bog-roll holder. What's that about?

Anyway, speaking of internet shopping, how come none of the supermarkets can get it right? Sainsburys are a disaster, ASDA are unable to meet their agreed timeslot and even Tesco cannot seem to find an alternative product for Mild Cheddar Cheese, leaving the Family Backroads cheeseless for a week. One of us might have to go outdoors now. Doh!

ALMOST BLUETOOTH

Snicket was really fed up when he discovered that Bluetooth wasn't a character in Pirates of the Caribbean. I had to put him straight with a fascinating demo of my phone. He was obviously riveted. Mid-demo, whilst we were stuck in a traffic jam on the M62, I did a quick scan of local devices and discovered lots of people's phones nearby. The best bit was looking through some of the names people give to their phones. This was how I discovered my new hobby.

Here's a sample from a couple of quick scans on my way to work this morning:

Flangelina
Big Arms
Gary G
Barbados 4 U
Sex Panther

As a reward I sent them each a picture of Ana Matronic to brighten their journey.

What's yours called?

SOMEBODY ELSE'S GUY

I've been to organised bonfires and firework displays for years, but tonight reminded me just how long it is since I've been to a disorganised one. Bloody scary with fireworks falling over and zooming straight into the gathered families.

Won't be doing that again anytime soon.

At least they threw a proper Guy on the fire rather than dramatising a Bengali folk tale though.

ICKLE JUGS

It's brilliant timing! Those boffins have grown a miniature liver just at the same time that I have cultivated some miniature onions in the Backroads allotment.

Just need to find a miniature jug of gravy now.