Pass this along

bush

My friend Paul asked if someone could manipulate this magazine cover in order to win $10. So I did. Then I had a thought, if you all email it to all your office pals it might become one of those things that flies around the world and makes people chuckle for a week. So please email it to your friends and if anyone ever gets it sent back to them be sure to let me know. I think that would be the most exciting thing ever. My 15 nanoseconds of fame.

Right click the image, hit save picture as, then attach it to an email and send it off.

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1992

mud

Seeing this picture of Glastonbury this year brought back some vivid memories. In 1992, much to my disappointment, my friend Shep won two tickets to the Reading Festival. We’d been the year before and it had all been a bit too much of an experience for my 16-year-old brain. We had erected our tent bang in the middle of a riot zone; we saw our first freaks, we discovered that camping sucks and we almost drove each other insane.

I really didn’t want to go, but Shep has a way of persuading me to do things I can’t be bothered to do. Sometimes for the best, sometimes not.

On day two I woke up at 6AM and thought I might have peed my pants. I knew whatever had happened was bad but didn’t want to move, as that would confirm the inevitable. I led immobile for a while. Soon I started shivering so I thought I’d better investigate. When I moved I realized the whole lower half of my body was saturated. I had gone to sleep in my jeans and we’d had a flood. The tent was pitched at an angle so all the water was under me. Shep was dry as a bone. I was so devastated by the situation I started bleating like a toddler. SHEP, SHEEEPPPPP, I’M WET, WAKE UP, I’M WET, SHEEEEPPPP… (you bloody brought me here, wake up!) After a few minutes bitching Shep leaned up, opened the tent door, cupped his hands and limply flung drabs of water out of the door. I was close to tears.

We eventually got up and head towards Reading town center, not sure what we were looking for. I walked scarecrow fashion, quivering like a jelly. Shep, worried I was going to lose my mind, comforted me as we walked. It was bitter cold and every time my jeans touched my legs I let out a little yelp. Eventually we found a Midland bank with a heated foyer. We went inside and I slumped on the floor pressing my legs up against a hot radiator. It was pure bliss.

[Next year Shep got his comeuppance. On the first night of Glastonbury 1993 we were burgled whilst we were out watching a band. They took Sheps rucksack, all his clothes, even his socks and undies. They left me all my stuff including my valuable electronic hardware. Shep had one pair of undies and 3 days before he was going home. Oh dear.]

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LEDs

LEDs

When we were at school there was a lad we called LED, a right slap head geek he was, but I secretly liked him and I liked the little circuit boards he constructed and the 99p for 5 LEDs he covered them with. I very much envied his secret LED knowledge.

I feel it is time I came clean and declared my devotion to these meek but steadfast little light givers. I have a small army of them dotted throughout our bedroom. There is a white one that pulses away on the computer, the modem has 3 little green ones, the fan has 6 red ones and a green one, it goes on and on… I counted them all last night and there are 27. My attentive little minions, my diminutive army. Together we will prevail!

Heidi hates them. She is very sensitive to light and claims they keep her awake, that the feeble 0.00001 watt of light they give off knocks out her REM cycle and gives her insomnia all night. Absolute rubbish, I’m sure you’ll agree. Never fear, we are growing in power. Me and my friends.

I recently got a new DVD burner; it has the subtlest, loveliest new recruit for my army. A blue LED. It is like a blue rose or the blue light that appears on the dashboard when you engage the full beam on a foggy night. It is a rare and precious thing. Long may it give her insomnia.

Babies love little lights. They are very stimulating. This is what I’ll tell Heidi. Maybe I can arrange all my gadgets over Billy’s bed and he can wink back at them all. He’ll have an IQ of 200 before he’s 1.

Sorry, I have gone mad.

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