Since I can't think of any other celebrities I fancy, here's another picture of the lovely Thora. Sigh.

If anyone wants to give me hints on girls I might like, well, that's what the comments box is for...

My methods for remembering topics of (ahem) interest to discuss in my blog are failing me. Mnemonics aren't much good as I forget what I'm remembering when I'm parsing it; keywords too are letting me down. For example, I know I wanted to talk about spiders. But what?? I saw Spiderman yesterday, but that's confusing the issue still further as my spider-topic had arisen beforehand. I know I have a lot of spiders in my house at the moment, and the bigger ones make me jump when they scuttle out of their hiding places. But that's hardly a fascinating revelation.

I think I may have mad cow disease. Sigh.

Back to Conspiracy Theory news. Various authors, including Douglas Adams, have posited that other species on this planet know more than we think. From my own observations, I believe something tremendous might be able to occur. On one of my nature rambles a couple of days ago, I saw a fox run across the path in front of me. Not five yards beyond, a rabbit was sitting motionless in the path. AND YET THE FOX HAD NOT TRIED TO EAT IT. Could they be in league, plotting some horrific attempt to overthrow the human race, making us their desperate slaves? Huh? Huh?

In tribute to the Brazilians getting through to the World Cup final, here's a thought.

Rivaldo and Cafu - ever seen them on the same football pitch together?

You have?

Oh.

Sigh. While Llew's libido marches remorselessly onwards, my attempts to find celebrities (or otherwise) I would snog, you know, in a crunch, are faltering at every step. Latest discovery - provisional entries 2 and 3* (after Thora Birch, who some people didn't recognise, so that's who she is, chaps) I don't actually fancy at all. Sigh.

Housekeeping tip: avoid cleaning your laminate flooring if you're going to be wandering round in socks. I washed mine yesterday, and today, unused to such a sheen, I slipped on it, did a comedy flail in the air, and landed on my coccyx. Ouch!

*Kissing Jessica Stein star Jennifer Westfeldt and Arsenal Ladies goalkeeper Emma Byrne, in case you were wondering.

I went for a bike ride today, just a mellow, view-appreciating one rather than a hard workout as I usually do (honestly!). I decided to take the path along the Thames that follows the exact course of the Oxford-Cambridge boat race - Putney to Mortlake.

It's always lovely to discover green areas in London, even if they stretch precisely 5 yards from riverbank to people's back gardens. I also saw a heron.

In other news - um, I did housework. Help. Me. Please.

Five days of frenetic activity have gone past since I last wrote a blog entry. I have seen a million people, toured a million places, but I haven't really got anything to say. Unlike Madeleine, I don't lie awake for a while before drifting off, updating my memory banks with smashing things that have happened to me over the previous 24 hours. I should, I know, but my DISSOLUTE LIFESTYLE means that if I'm going to be lying in bed, I'll either be comatose or exotically entertaining the Norwegian synchronised swimming team. Probably.

A morning of useful chores has just passed, as part of my new leaf turning (this is new leaf no 3,846 in a series of millions). These chores didn't involve finding a job. Sigh. And now it's Wimbledon fortnight - how am I expected to do anything useful, for heaven's sake!

In crappy news, I broke my Palm Pilot (boo) and the bike shop was shut, which I only discovered after walking there (boo again). I shall have to wait until tomorrow before I can compete with Ree on the subject of all things bike-worthy.

Oh, further to the Palm Pilot thing, if any of my friends with whom I have made social arrangements are reading this, can they let me know what they are as I'm bound to forget? Cheers!

I am speechless, basically:

(Incidentally, you can blame everyone's favourite chutney ferret, Brian, for this entry. He was sick of me coming over all pensive and pastoral.)

Another day, another walk. This time back to Richmond Park, and a trip round the beautiful Isabella Plantation. Today's random animal fact, from my extensive observations - ducks have eyelids that close upwards! Crazy eh?

Sigh. Sorry that's a bit dull. I did get a bit enraptured in muh appreciation of nature today, and in this kind of extended, empty lethargy that makes up most of my days, anything that makes me think or makes me excited is a very good thing indeed. Prince Charles's spinney is a small, fenced area in the middle of the park with a walkway through the middle. It's surrounded by gorgeous meadows and cricket-heavy bracken fields, and is as far off the beaten track as you can get. As you walk through, only the occasional dappling on the forest floor takes your attention away from the feeling of enclosed serenity. The smell is rural summer to a tee, and the scene is archetypally perfect English woodland. Some may find this boring (and you know who you are), but sod y'all :-)

Tomorrow: Mark goes to Hef's mansion after loading up on PCP and Buckfast, with a big gun.

I can't face going for a walk. I've been trying it, walking (for exercise as much as for getting fresh air, seeing pretty things, etc.), and each time I feel that before I even get halfway, I want it to be over. Even though it does lift me afterwards, there's a real sense of disappointment I feel when I consider how good walks are supposed to be. Maybe I just need somewhere to go?

I can see yet another spurious life analogy forming, so let's skirt by that.

I know. I shall wheel my sad and broken bicycle to the bike shop that bears its name. Though perhaps you could also see the bicycle as my life - once proud and forward-looking, but now broken, unkempt, with bits missing and a saddle considerably lower than it used to be.

I've got to stop doing this :-)

We know where you live, Trapattoni.

I had something to post about spiders, but it's gone completely out of my head.

So I'll write about the view from my window today. It's a singularly poignant sky, and one I've rarely see in this country. It's an overcast day, and half an hour ago there was a little post-spring hangover storm. But the heavy weather has moved off to the east, leaving behind an almost eerie light, percolating through much higher cloud than usual for gloomy, grey-clad London.

Most evocatively, the light reminds me of early early morning, which I hardly ever see. Usually, still being up at dawn breaks depresses me (unlike when I get up early enough to see dawn, which makes me very happy), but today there's something positive and promising in the sky. The coolness coming through my open window makes it feel more late-autumnal than summery, but with the cautious anticipation of a spring morning.

As I type, the first peal of thunder since the storm has just rolled over Roehampton. But it's receding, and to the west the sky looks lighter and the clouds seem further away.

Let's hope there's some kind of analogy in there for me.

Hurray! The divine and why-is-she-single-for-heavens-sake-boys? Lindsey Lou started a chain of events that led me to the London Slang website. Laura may find it interesting too :-)

The best thing about it is hearing cute American girls in #sinister having conversations such as this:

girl X: 'mark was about to chuck his muck, but then it went all limp!'
girl X: oops
me: excuse me!!!
girl X: i didn't really mean that
girl X: i was just testing the phrase!
girl Y: "chutney ferret", eh? i can't decide whether to be chuffed or chundered.
girl X: oo nice comments by cocksucker. 'probably american origin.' how proud i am of my country!
girl Y: i already know all these words from reading "among the thugs" and "the sopranos"
girl X: i'm totally jazzed about the lengthy discourse on 'cunt' on this site.
girl Y: and from hanging out with you lot :)
girl X: OH! sure!!
girl Y: muff? MUFF?
girl Y: jesus
girl X: oo 'quick, leggit! the law are coming!'

So. I broke my usual shaving routine today, and used cold water instead of warm to shave with. Nothing too unusual there. However, so accustomed am I to routine that, as I finished and prepared to wash my face with cold water (helps close the pores, y'know), I instinctively turned off the warm tap and turned on the cold. Which had the effect of jamming the warm tap shut, and splattering me with cold water all down muh midriff (and beyond...). Hey hey! That's the kind of ker-ayzee thing tha happens to me now I don't have a job!

On a soberer note (and that doesn't mean I'm drunk at 11.30am), I have been wondering whether this blog, which I'm having great fun compiling, is a wee bit superficial. At this point in my life, all sorts of things whizz round in my head, usually during my empty days, and I wonder which, if any, it'd be worth mentioning here. I'm sure it'd really just be navel-gazing, but it sometimes helps to share (man). What do you think? Answers here please.

Okay, okay, here you go girls :-)

*Le Tigre reference, in case anyone was appalled at my un-PC-ness.

World Cup 2002, 2nd round: Mexico 0 - 2 USA

BBC football commentator: "A great day for North America. But is anybody watching?"

Well? Were you?

It was always going to happen, so...

Please recommend me films! At the cinema, on video, it doesn't really matter. I don't watch enough, and I should see more. I have a (minor) degree in film studies, for heaven's sake!

So please, add any recommendations as comments, if you'l be so kind. All I should say to direct you is that I have depressingly little patience with long, plot-free arthouse cinema. It's not you, it's me.

Today I went for my second walk in three days in Richmond Park. It's a beautiful place, one of the few areas of London that feels like it just might not be London after all. It's the biggest park in the city, and it's about 3 minutes drive from my flat!

Anyway, my current favourite thing about it is the number of animals you get to see. Squirrels, pshaw - had enough of them in my garden when I was growing up. Skylarks - not bad, but they're just birds. Not quite just birds are the ring-necked parakeets you occasionally see fluttering from tree to tree.

But the best thing, apart from the bunny wabbits (aaaw! Ickle bunny wabbits!), are the deer! In a country with bugger all interesting flora and fauna, to be able to walk within 15 feet of a herd of red and fallow deer is quite amazing. Although at this time of year it's not quite that simple. All over the park are signs which say (paraphrasing slightly) "Don't fuck with the deer, they've got babbies, really, we mean it". And there have been a couple of (what I felt were) dodgy moments when pretty bloomin' massive red deer stags were giving me seriously evil looks... Fortunately, I strode heroically on, and was thus able to deliver this missive from deepest Roehampton, etc. etc.

Still haven't seen any snakes, though. Next time...

1st in an occasional series of things which are everyday objects, but BRILLIANT!

No. 1: strawberry flavoured yoghurt. Whut is it about artificial flavourings that go so well with some things and not others? Strawberry yoghurt = just scrumptious, even the low-fat, bog-standard own brand stuff I'm currently eating. Yum! However, strawberry toothpaste != nice in any way. Even enthusiastic children shun it. I mean, you don't get ice cream manufacturers designing new flavours that taste like fruity toothpaste, do you?

I don't talk about girls enough on this blog.

Watching Eastenders last night, I decided that I have a new crush on Donna, who plays wife-beater Trevor's girlfriend (or secret wife? I just don't know). However, my googling attempts to find out who the actress is have drawn a blank. Anyone got any suggestions? Especially if there are pictures involved :-)

I shall probably talk about girls again soon.

Hey hey!

Thanks to being an avid follower of the life and loves of blog god Brian Winters (the man with the observation skills of Jerry Seinfeld, but with a sardonic cynicism where Seinfeld's humour isn't), I am going to shamelessly rip a link off him which takes you to Orisinal Games. I have only played three or four of the dozens of games there, but they're cute, beautifully designed and ultra-playable (I currently have a NUMB BUM from the edge-of-the-seatness Bauns engendered).

So, I said it was coming - I would be eternally grateful if, via the comments page, you can recommend books for me to marvel at and devour. Especially wanted are any books easy or light enough to read on the beach this summer :-)

Thank you! I shall start off with a recommendation of my own. Karen Wallace's Raspberies on the Yangtze captures a similar languid exploration of childhood to The Catcher in the Rye, but with a more powerful (to me) evocation of learning, loss and the dwindling of childhood. It's for 11-year-olds upwards, but easily qualifies as a wonderful, moving read for grown-ups.

Italy vs Mexico in the World Cup.

John Motson: "Everything depends on Totti".

/me nods at the eternal truth of it all.

Yes, I am posting rubbish to my blog because I'm nervous. (small voice) come on Italy...

Beloved Laura showed me how to do this, so I really should put it up! Note the reference in frame 7...

Maddieminx just suggested that men do all their thinking while peeing, and it got me thinking (but not, fortunately, peeing). I strongly concur, which is why I have to stop myself writing about my toilet habits half the time (honestly, you don't want to see my 1st draft blog entries).

I think it's probably because it gives you a rare chance to focus. You are doing a specific job in hand (as it were), which requires concentration on a small level, and avoids distraction. So your mind can actually think for a change.

Pee topic #1: which is your favourite brand of loo paper? I am frankly disappointed by Charmin - an ungenerous pile, worryingly brittle, and has a tendency to come apart into its 2 constituent plies all too easily. 5/10.

Next week: Sainsbury's own brand.

More predictable World Cup commentary. France and Argentina are out! Oh nooooooo! What a shame! In case you hadn't noticed, I'm being SARCASTIC! Etc.

And even better, look at this!!! Oh. I see the link isn't working. I'm going to leave it in cos it's such an amusing picture, and who knows, maybe the link will revive sometime soon...

Honestly, that's as much as I could have hoped for from this World Cup. Obviously, it'd be nice if Italy can go and win, (beating England or Ireland 8-5 in the final, natch), but the path has really opened up for Brazil. I can't see any other outcome, really.

ILE thanks again, this time to Alang and Dicky Knee

Okay, this is an idea I had for a hopefully interesting and interactive! part of this blog. I want YOU to suggest to me, via the comments link attached to this message, vitally wonderful music I really, really should buy (or, preferably, download). Most of you know what I'm into - feel free to use this to give you some ideas if you don't. But hell, I'll listen to anything good.

I shall add links presently to do the same for films and books as well, and anything else you can recommend to me. Women, perhaps?

So, a quiet day after a flurry of activity yesterday. I almost bought a pushbike on a whim, but instead, I'm going to by a bike on a whim tomorrow! Especially as I got a letter from muh mortgage provider, telling me they're giving me £240 because, as they confess, they were ripping me off before. Should pay for the bike and a helmet!

I sent off today 4 (four) copies of my latest compilation CD today! I hope it's enjoyed by its recipients, who include two sinisterines and two normal, grown-up people :-) I shall report back any amusing, rude or highly flattering comments...

(and if anyone is so taken by the tracklist that they want a copy too, then leave a comment below and we'll see if we can come to some kind of swapsies arrangement :-))

I should add at this point that I am not upset with my mortgage provider for ripping me off in the first place. This is because I am a firm believer in the concept of the Mutual Society, where the business is, in effect, owned by its customers rather than its shareholders. It's one of the few bastions of big business which isn't dominated by the capitlaist superego.

Yo! Something useful I've actually found muhself!

All you new bloggers, if you're baffled by the hexadecimal values for the basic colours that can be used on your website - here is a comprehensive list of "browser-safe"* colours, sorted by hue and by value.

Obviously, Brian et al will pshaw at the basicness of all this, but for beginners it may hopefully be of some use. Just watch me muck around with my site over the next few days :-)

*The Browser-Safe Palette is the actual palette that Mosaic, Netscape, and Internet Explorer use within their browsers. The palettes used by these browsers are slightly different on Macs and PCs. This palette is based on math, not beauty.

The Browser-Safe Palette only contains 216 colors out of a possible 256. That is because the remaining 40 colors vary on Macs and PCs. By eliminating the 40 variable colors, this palette is optimized for cross-platform use.

Stacey has a picture of her BUTT (I don't say butt in real life, I say arse, but it seemed appropriate here) on her blog! She is so cool! I want a photo of my butt, but with muh child-bearing hips and unflattering trousers, as well as my unsupple figure making butt-photography tricksy, you're just going to have to make do with a somewhat famous pic of my torso :-)

Next week's pic: Mark's privates in all their flaccid glory! Maybe :-)

How does The Boy G do it? What makes his life different from mine, where all I do is watch the World Cup and lament the broken-ness of my bike (if it wasn';t broken, I could ride it to the bike shop and see if I could get part ex on a new one. But then, if it wasn't broken, I wouldn't need a new one! That says a lot about life, I think). And he doesn't even have a keyboard!

That's it!! If I didn't have a keyboard, I might have a life! I might even have a job, but let's not go too far. My previous keyboard went all comx.p.l.tl__yxxbol.l.oc;kss (which looks scarily virus-like - perhaps it's no coincidence that I'm receiving 4 or 5 viruses a day in muh email at the moment) on me, which briefly revolutionised social interaction and made me go out in the Fresh Air, so perhaps half a bottle of 1993 Navarro Lopez "accidentally" spilled is the way to go. Or I could get my mum to hide it.

Greg also writes a lot, and has philosophic thoughts which don't necessarily revolve around him. Hmm, must try that. AND he's got a nice tum.

!!! Welcome, Captain Euro! It's about bloody time - all these yanks getting the credit for crime-fighting, landslide-preventing, supervillain-thwarting etc. I'm typing this before even finishing the first gripping adventure of the Captain and his chums, I'm that excited.

"I wonder if they understand Polyglot in Milwaukee?"

More borderline homoerotic Euro-centric adventres soon...

(thanks to Keith/ILE for alerting me to the world's latest crusader)

Good morning!

As this is my first entry in my shiny new blog, it's only appropriate that I should link to my current blog and my original blog. They're both fascinating*.

*heavy sarcasm