Fabulous. Simply fabulous.

I got a pig this morning, too! Seriously. It’s like pink and squishy and everything. It’s also got some advertising on it for some sort of entertainment promotion website thing but I’m not giong to give them any free advertising here, because I went to the website earlier and it was clearly some sort of scam or something. But the pig is kind of cool. Trav got one too; his is wearing a tinfoil hat.

Rachel (who may or may not suck, I haven’t decided yet) complained that she was bored at University, and claimed that the only way this boredom could be alleviated was by me writing something on my blog. So. Yes. Here goes nothing.

Really. Any moment now I’ll say something so exciting and profound your trousers will explode.

It’s coming.

In a minute…

Any second now…

Here goes!

(you really won’t believe how exciting this is)

(hm. I’m beginning to think I might have built this up a bit too much now)

(yes, actually, I’m pretty sure I have)

(you might want to lower your expectations a bit)

(okay, a lot)

(I’m not actually sure why I bothered, if I’m quite honest)

(really, you’d be better off trying to find something else to read)

(seriously)

(you’re still here?)

(why?)

DRUM ROLL

This morning, on my way into work, I bought an umbrella.

There, see. Are you as excited as I am? I mean, that took a lot out of me. It’s going to take a while to recover from that one. I mean, I even made StrongBad look like his position as King Of All That Is Great In The Universe was in some danger there. I should slow down a bit and take a bit of time out from this crazy life of mine.

Man, I rule.

Tonight, I am off to see the best band in the world. I am a little scared that I may have built them up in my mind way beyond what they can actually achieve for a little-known band from Denmark. But I’m sure they’ll rock, anyway.

I have no words.

It saddens me that people that stupid still exist.

This is an essential piece of reading regarding Rick Warren and the Purpose-Driven phenomenon. Very interesting. (hat-tip to the inhabitants of the tavern.)

via Lori.

I am sat, much earlier than usual, in an almost empty office. Most people won’t start rolling in until around 9:30am, and some may not arrive until gone 10am. At first glace, it looks just like a normal office – chairs, computers, bits of paper, empty coffee mugs. But look a little closer, and all is not as it seems.

For a start, there’s an unusually large number of whiteboards scattered around. In fact, nearly every available wallspace seems to have a whiteboard on it. And they’ve all got strange, arcane diagrams on with lots of arrows and boxes and lots and lots of weird acronyms.

The other strange thing is that there isn’t a single Windows screensaver on any of the monitors. This is because there are no machines here running Windows; at least, not on any kind of permanent basis and not unless Trav gets his way and persuades someone to install it on his machine. We run Linux around here. Sometimes, it even works, too.

There’s a lot of books lying around – Stroustrup’s C++ is popular, as are various CPU manufacturer’s instruction set reference manuals. There’s a 2-volume set documenting XLib to my left, and a copy of the Ruby Pickaxe and a Linux kernel reference prop up the iBook on my desk. On the windowsill, there’s a soldering iron and more cables than you’d know what to do with (of course, the actual cable that you really need is never there, because that is the way of things). Oh, and there’s quite a bit of Nerf weaponry, too.

Out of the window in front of me, I can see the corner of #1 Deansgate, and the back of Harvey Nichols, and it occasionally entertains me to watch posh people running through the sudden rainstorms you get in Manchester. And on hot days, you can watch the girls walking by on Deansgate from the comfort of an air conditioned office.

Shortly, the rest of the office will arrive, and there’ll be some bacon sandwiches and fruit and stuff for breakfast. In the meantime, though, it’s just me and my mug of coffee.

Today in church, I looked down at my knee and thought: “Hmm, there’s a hole in my jeans. I guess I should buy a new pair.”

So, this afternoon, I went to the Temple Of Chav. I noticed NEXT were having a sale, so I went in. Ten minutes later, I walked out with two new pairs of jeans, having spent less than £40. I am awesome. Fear my manly shopping efficiency.

(they’re quite nice jeans, too; well, they meet with the approval of The Girlfriend, so they can’t be that bad)

In other news, somebody stole my hair. My ears are cold. This is a strange sensation.

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