Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Email to the Great Britain Luge Association

With all the talk of the forthcoming Winter Olympic Games in Torino, I thought it was time I put in an enquiry to the Great Britain Luge Association...






Dear Lugers,

Since I was a child I have been a fan of the Winter Olympics and my favourite sport was always the Luge, I quite liked the Bobsleigh but it was just too easy for my taste; sitting there, in your little car with all your friends, it's more of a social event.
No, I was enchanted by the idea of these iconic lone adventurers, braving the frozen flume of death at extreme speed and coming out of the other end a hero amongst his countrymen.

What a noble concept.

I wonder how one would go about becoming such an adventurer? As you'd expect, I've no real practical experience with the Luge, I've not even been sledging all that much (my Dad used to say sledging was invented to keep the schools from overcrowding - which of course served only in amplify my fascination) but I am taking driving lessons if control of a vehicle is an issue (although I do keep failing the test - fourth time's the charm), and I am willing and indeed, eager to learn. I'm also young, energetic and I'm not fat.

Where could I go to get some Luge practice in? And how much practice would I need to be of Olympic standard? I recognise that it's probably too late for me to join you at the Winter Olympics in Torino this year, but perhaps I'll be there with you in 2010? I certainly hope so!

I look forward to hearing from you and many thanks for your time!

Andrew xxx

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No word back yet. They do try to respond to all enquires within 48 hours, but I suppose it's a busy time for them, booking flights and things.

The Trials and Tribulations of the 21st Century Parent

They say one of the benefits of pet ownership is that it gives you a sneak preview of the responsibilities, trials and tribulations that the raising of human children will bring.

This is certainly true of me and my pet cat, ‘Daisy’. I've put up with the demands, the mood swings, the rows and the turds, but now developments have brought the challenges of fatherhood into sharp focus…

When I first suspected she was taking an interest in religion, I was pleased, I thought it would give her the direction and moral fibre she needed to leave her slothful, workshy ways behind.

But it soon became clear this wasn’t happening. She continued to sleep most of the day and stay out late, she never read any kind of religious texts (or any books at all for that matter) and I don’t think she even knows the direction of Mecca. It could only be some perverted, twisted version of religion that she’s gotten herself into, and the simple truth of it is unavoidable…

Daisy has become a religious extremist.

It’s hardly surprising. Daisy is one year old now; that’s 16 in cat years and its disenfranchised teenagers like Daisy that are targeted for indoctrination by these extremist groups. They must’ve gotten to her when she was on one of her after-breakfast walks.


I’ve tried talking to her about it but it’s no use, she won’t open up about it, she just sits there gazing up at me with this blank stare, before licking her arsehole and storming off outside. I might as well be speaking in a language she doesn’t understand for all the good it does.

The tension in the household is palpable, she comes in, eats, sleeps and storms off out again without a word about where she’s been or where she’s going. Where is the helpless kitten I once knew? I don’t know her anymore. But worse than that, I’m actually afraid of what she might be capable of if things carry on like this.

Unfortunately it seems that parents in my position have very little support to turn to, until they have actually done something there’s very little help. Sure, right now it’s just small, seemingly innocuous acts of rebellion: staring at you on the toilet, clawing the sofa, - but who knows where it will end? I don’t want to wake up one morning to find her on the front page of the paper - a small tabby would attract a lot of attention boarding the tube in a hoodie and a rucksack.


"I can drive, it's just that my skills aren't recognised by the state."

As you may have heard by way of grapevine and comment box, I had another go at the driving test on Tuesday and failed.

To my disgrace, this is the third time I've failed it. When do you ever hear someone say it took them four
attempts to pass their driving test? Never. Not unless it's a cheap BBC docusoap about some dumb menopausal rageaholic nutbag who can't get her Skoda out of the driveway.

This attempt was even worse than the second - On the second I failed with just two minors and one major, this time it was 7 minors and two majors! He was ticking that error sheet so much he got through five biros. My driving is actually getting worse.


My driving instructor pretends to be frustrated, but he's
getting a few more lessons out of me isn't he? He's loving it really. It's got to the point where we've not got anything to do now, I drive around for a while and he chats on his mobile, reads a book, does his taxes... Every once in a while he'll look up and say 'Do a reverse park' or 'How do you check your tyre pressures?' or 'Pull in here, I need to get some courgettes.' but he doesn't wait to see if I've got it right.

On the plus side, I'm getting very good at reacting to these failures, this time there wasn't any anger or self-pity. Just mild irritation. When you've failed as many times as I have, you get bloody good at it. At the end of the test I asked "How did i do?" and the examiner replied: "The usual... see you again soon will we?" and got out of the car to join all the other examiners in waving me off.

I've booked another for early March, which, at my current rate of decline, should see me side-swiping old ladies, ploughing though school playgrounds and finally flipping the car upside-down into the test centre.
I wonder if they have a box to tick for that...

It's no Grab-a-Grand.


Bearded tv quizpot Noel Edmonds is back:


20 people open boxes with numbers in one by one.

Noel gets a phone call, we don't know what is said, but he hangs up and tells us another number.

Noel says to the contestant: "He's testing you."

The contestant says "No, I'm gonna go for it."

Everybody claps.

Richard and Judy comes on.



WHAAAAAAAT?????

Return of the Hack

I've not written anything on here but I'll be honest, I've been posting entries on some other blog sites I was experimenting with recently and they turned out to be crap. I hope you'll forgive me, I'll post what I wrote up here to bring you up to date with the evolution of my bullshit.

Andrew x