Month: December 2002

Happy birthday to big brother, [cough] years old today!

Today, I shall mostly be infuriated by Blogger.
UPDATE: problem solved after much muttering and cursing. Actually, it wasn’t the fault of Blogger, but of my hosts who had sent some misleading information.

Strange goings-on in Colombia at the trial of the three alleged IRA members accused of training FARC guerillas, as reported by Denis Murray. It’s hard to imagine such a thing going on in the UK in court, although with the media scrum that any moderately high profile court case attracts these days (think Paul Burrell, the Soham murders, Paul Whiting) and the frenzied cries of Rent-A-Mob, all just outside the door, I fear it may only be a matter of time.

I’ve just entered a competition to win a weekend for two with flights and four star accomodation in Paris, Rome or Madrid, as part of a promotion by our carriers, ANC. Winning would be good – very good indeed.

AFF: 7 points. Not very good, but better than last week.

This is one of the best Shockwave games I’ve ever seen. via Albinoblacksheep.
The web just has too many distractions. I should be working.
(Oh god, there’s airhockey too!)

hmmm.
A Tweedy from the north east.
Another Tweedy from the north east.
Is there a link? We demand to know.

How strange. I had a conversation over the weekend about caviar and sturgeon, and today there is an article on BBC News about the sturgeon being doomed in the wild.

Sometimes the Beeb gets just plain weird. Flash5 needed.

Shock news for the day is that Zachary Merton hospital is to close and be demolished. Zachary Merton has been an old folk’s nursing home for many years, but before that it was the area’s maternity unit and is the place where I, my brother Tim and lovely regular reader Charlie all made our debuts into this world (not at the same time, obviously).
Tim and I have joked for years that it would be quite fun to end life in the same building we had begun life in, and should do something about booking our seats now. But it seems that that is not to be. I’m tempted to go down there soon and try and get a few photos of the building where I was born, before it is crushed into rubble. If I do, I’ll post them here.