tennis again, and a bit of politics in the pub afterwards. it's wierd talking to tories. it's as if they don't realise that being a tory makes you a complete wanker. they carry on as if they had every right to pass off daily telegraph drivel as if it was reasoned debate. and what's worse, some of them are actually nice people, if you forget about the politics.

anyway, last day of work for two weeks tomorrow! yippedeeyay. i think i'll divide my time between relearning the piano, redecorating the bathroom, throwing out junk from the study and wallowing in the filth of my own crapulence. i might get drunk a few times as well!

my hair has been a problem today. ian (my hairdresser who i visited yesterday) left it with a most unpleasant centre parting and today, after the light application of trevor sorbie to try to calm things down, it just looks like a nightmare. what's a boy to do...?

take two weeks off, that's what! i've finally decided, next week and the week after are my summer holidays. where will i be going?

the monkeys know what he's going to choose. the lions know what he's going to choose. "hmm" says Alberto, "i think i'll have..."

(anyone know of a decent bod site?)

we've been around, we fall, we fly
we mostly fall; we mostly run
and every now and then we try
to mend the damage that we've done

that'd be leonard again, from the Song of Bernadette. which is playing on my whirry-round thing as i type. 'cept it's being sung by jennifer warnes of course.

so many hearts i find
broke like yours and mine
torn by what we've done and can't undo

i just want to hold you
come on let me hold you
like Bernadette would do

no, actually i'm not maudlin, i just love that song. *sigh*

poor me, i have been staring at a screen all weekend, partly to finish off some work that really needed to be ready for tomorrow (phew!) and partly doing some more work on the new equality network web site, which is coming along nicely now.

time for bed, said zebedee.

thanks to the rather wonderful friendsreunited site i have recently caught up with a bunch of my old school friends (some of whom are featured in the photos section). big hello to johnny, elliot, rory, dave and marco. has anyone seen kyle? what about the other fellas? i hope we can get together some time and get pissed. also, hi to martin walley, my old english teacher, who also came out of the woodwork in the last week!

exclusive preview of the new version of windows available here.

reggie kray, ronnie biggs and fred west were standing at the gates to hell about to fall into the fire, when satan granted them one last beer before the end. reggie chooses a budweiser, drinks it and falls to his doom. ronnie has a stella, drinks it and falls to his doom. fred west then approaches the gates and says "you know what satan, i could murder some tennents".

well, it's friday innit.

tennis this evening (this being thursday) was smashing in the sunshine, and while i was trounced in the singles the doubles went my way. which is nice. missed out on seeing the lovely craig hill afterwards because i was meant to be having a house guest but she is missing presumed still in london...

had my tea with fiona this evening [*waves*] and lovely it was too. and i picked up a hot tip from the horse's mouth: go see jackie clune at the assembly rooms (if you're in edinburgh that is). she loved it. and i've seen jackie before too and she was faabulous.

after the plug for fridge's web site on monday, today i feel i must point you in the direction of patsy's catflap which, as is pointed out on the front page, swings both ways. fluffy!

i know it's wierd, but i just realised that i quite like crowded buses. like this morning. lots of people to watch. the thing is, you have to be on one that hasn't come from niddrie (difficult given where i live) otherwise the people to watch are not very attractive.

politically incorrect, moi?

now i'm not going to start just picking out humorous news stories here, cos i think that would be lame, but this one i cannot resist. from the press association today:

'A Peruvian man who last year chopped off his penis in protest at not having a job has sliced off one of his testicles because of his low pay.'

you need no further information.

she told the most wonderful stories and said it was because she had discovered that Once Upon a Time was really Here and Now.

stolen with gratitude from sista fridge (a.k.a. ian lucas).

the national trust for scotland, from its not insubstantial offices up town in leafy charlotte square, is apparently spending £120,000 to remove an old track from halfway up the cairngorms. they are aiming to return the area to its state of 'natural wilderness'. bloody lunatics.

in unrelated but similarly stupefying news, the bloody farmers are at it again, with another protest about how they just don't get as much free cash as they used to. that david handley gets right up my nose.

maybe i should stop watching the news.

i'm off work today with sweaty shiveryness (the end of the cold, i'm hoping). however, two bowls of demerara sugar with a little porridge mixed in has warmed my cockles.

and the weekend arts review... movie: do not go and see planet of the apes; edinburgh fringe: do go and see ghost shirt.

Call up the craftsmen
Bring me the draftsmen
Build me a path from cradle to grave
And I'll give my consent
To any government
That does not deny a man a living wage

billy bragg (between the wars)

a foggy and rainy day here in beautiful edinburgh, car alarms are going off in the street and the joints on the right hand side of my body are throbbing. thank god it's the weekend or i'd be missing work. hmm.

is it me, or does the combination of "christine hamilton" and "squatting" conjure up the most unpleasant mental image since it was revealed that william hague and sebastian coe had a "special" relationship?

yes, definitely a cold. runny nose, sneezing fit to wake the dead, beginnings of a cough and a slight ache behind the forehead. i could be out there, getting drunk and watching the boys at CC's. instead i'm in here, adding a search facility to my web page and considering a haircut. oh my god, i just defined my life.

it is the identification of god with transient social attitudes that is religion's greatest strength and its greatest weakness. it is this supreme confidence that gives religion its power, but at the price of building into it the cause of its own destruction.

Richard Holloway, Godless Morality

i have a cold now.

why did they change the recipe of day nurse capsules? bloody annoying. they used to be triffic, and now they're pants. i wonder if i'll be sued by Smithkline Beecham.

well i went to see arthur smith singing leonard cohen songs last night and it was pretty special. one night only, so no point in recommending it.

'shampoo and set: £10
real poo and set: £20'

in 1984, Marilyn received a letter from the mother of a terminally ill girl whose final wish was to meet the cross-dressing star. his manager paul caplin arranged for mother and daughter to come up to london where they spent a great day out with maz. back at paul's flat they were about to leave for home when maz asked them to wait, as he had a present to give them. he handed the girl a small parcel, which she eagerly opened.

it was a book on reincarnation. inside the front cover was written Better luck next time - love Marilyn.

doogiespace competition- identify this mystery 19-year-old member of the royal family and win a prize*

*today's prize: the sexual capacity of a rutting rhino, courtesy of our friends at so graham norton.

heriot-watt university catering dept. tip: don't have the tuna steak.

edinburgh fringe tip: go and see priorité á gauche at the pleasance dome. jean françois rocks my world.

the trashheap has spoken. nyaah.

Gobo, Fraggle Rock.

and i said to him, well you should have thought of that before you brought it in here all dripping wet.

in the absence of anything stimulating on this site, please view the flash animation to end all flash animations. i seem to have lost capshift.