How to make me rub my hands with glee? Simple. Give me sparkling company and a plate (or three) of sushi on my birthday (22nd. August, thanks for asking)…

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Bloody hell

Well, I’ve ordered a strobe lighting kit. From the reading I’ve done so far, it’s going to be a long learning curve trying to get this stuff right. There are as many opinions as there are photographers. I’m going to practice with as many friends and family as will let me, and doubtless I’ll end up with even more huge stockpiles of pictures of Desdog. Not that I’m aiming to usurp William Wegman or anything. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I’ve ever put this together in my head before. I love photography, and I certainly love Weimaraners, so why do I find some of Wegman’s work faintly creepy?

Aside: three times today, I’ve tried to type the word “curve” and actually typed “curse”. Does that tell you anything? (Other than I’ll never make the typing pool).

She’s got some good ideas, I suppose, BUT THIS WOMAN SHOULD SPEND NINE MINUTES IN THE REFLECTION ROOM LEARNING HOW TO PRONOUNCE THE WORD “ACCEPTABLE”. How bloody hard can it be? Is it spelled “asseptable”? NO!

That’s better.

The next Children in Need, Matt Lucas’ Vicki Pollard and will come face to face with Catherine Tate’s Lauren. Furthermore, they will swap catchphrases. Tenner on it.

Oooooh. Aaaaaah. 24 inches of phwoar!

I’ve been lusting after a Dell panel after seeing them in action at the office, particularly they’re great when driven via DVI. I tell you what, this one doesn’t disappoint. Especially after calibrating it properly, the colour is just cracking.

Well that’s me knackered. A true Rock and Roll weekend, and no mistake - two five foot fluorescent lights and 12 more square meters of flooring have gone into the loft in the last two days. Now we can properly sort and store twice as much crap that we really ought to chuck out. Hooray! It feels like there’s a whole new room in the house, albeit one that you wouldn’t want to spend any time in. It’s been a blessing that the weather has been of the typical British Summer variety, i.e. rubbish. Anything like normal Summer weather and I’d have been wilting in the heat.

How did I end up with such disgusting nose goblins? Well, although I was good and was wearing a mask for cutting the boards (great new circular saw - nothing pleases a bloke like a fresh power tool, let alone one with a laser), I guess I kicked up enough decade-old dust to sink a battleship, and my nose hoovered up its fair share. Add to the satisfaction of a job well done the fact that my breaks almost exactly coincided with those in the cricket and England are doing us proud again in the Test, and you have practically the perfect weekend for a middle-aged dweeb. Test Match Special and power tools: it doesn’t get much better.

Bugger. Transferring my DNS hosting away from UK2.net (go on - you know you want to, chuffing wide-boys: http://amail.co.uk/moveaway.htm) and there’s a little hitch. Not Easyspace’s fault, but it will result in a bit of a break in DNS. Normal service should be resumed on Monday. D’oh!

I’ve possibly been reading too much Dooce recently. Warning: this is a post about poop. Boobs may appear in future entries, they may not.

Many are the times I’ve marvelled about Des the Dog’s crap. For instance: I feed him once a day, he dumps four times. I haven’t actually gone so far as to weigh it, but I could be forgiven thinking more comes out than goes in. Today, though, whilst mine-sweeping on the lawn it struck me that perhaps there was a pattern to his other annoying habit: he doesn’t just do it in one place. Once in the accustomed humpty-backed position, he shuffles round and deposits it in a wide arc. It would be funny if it wasn’t so annoying. Maybe I’m seeing a pagan religious observance going on: he’s building Poohenge!

It’s 20 minutes since Jones took the winning catch and my heart is still pounding. Bloody marvellous mate. The Aussies don’t like it up ‘em!