Anyone?

Hi, I'm Ed Winchester...

While perusing the latest issue of Viz earlier, I suddenly remembered something from my recent trip to Ireland*. On the flight from Heathrow - Dublin, I had a flick through the in-flight magazine and out of it fell a slip of paper. The slip of paper looked like this:
















and on the other side it looked like this:
















How intriguing! Who is this mystery lady? And why does she want to know where I was going?

I love things like this! Flashmobs, Join Me, secret gigs... At the time I remember being quite excited and comparing it to Charlie Bucket finding a golden ticket, or perhaps some kind of global treasure hunt/mystery. Then I had the idea of leaving an invite to Tombolablog's forthcoming nuptials (thanks) in a similar place and seeing if a mystery guest showed up on the day. CP was less keen on this idea. Rightly so, some might say.

I'll email the address now and report any further developments...


* I remembered it because I had a copy of Viz with me on the flight and put the paper in there for safe-keeping.


EDIT (12/5/08)
The email address written on that paper doesn't work - it bounced straight back. So I tried hotmail.co.uk instead. That didn't bounce, but I haven't heard anything back either. Ho hum.

Yeah I traded laughs/in for chartsengrafs

The Tombolablog weekend

Feathers fall around you, and show you the way to go

It was a warm, sunny Spring day on Monday so I went for a wander at lunchtime and explored Lambeth Cemetery, which is just behind where I work. It was bigger than I had expected and a pleasant area of calm away from the fairly manic streets of Tooting and Colliers Wood. While there I spotted three jays, a squirrel, and a couple of parakeets, as well as hearing the call of a green woodpecker. I also got to hear some gospel music from a sizeable funeral taking place at the other side of the cemetery.

On returning to the office I told two colleagues I'd been for a walk and mentioned seeing two parakeets.
"What?".
"Parakeets?".
They looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language. "You know, green, noisy...parrots!"
"What, like escaped pets?"*
"No, there's loads of them all over the place."
They continued to stare, disbelievingly, at me, one asking if I'd maybe seen a tiger as well. It was only when I got on the internet and showed them a story from the BBC about London's booming parakeet population that they realised I wasn't a mental. I know that I have often gone out of my way to look for birds, but I was still genuinely surprised that they were completely unaware that these creatures existed in such close proximity to them. They're bright green! They're noisy! There are 30,000 of them in London! Of course not every one is going to be interested in them and other wildlife, but to have no idea that they existed really did stun me.

I guess that this is a piece about keeping your eyes/ears open really. Just looking around - there's loads of amazing stuff, even in the city (I saw a kingfisher not far from South Wimbledon at the weekend). I'd like to take this opportunity to link to the site of my friend David Lindo, the Urban Birder. Last year, David generously introduced me to Kensal Green cemetery and showed me where to spot green woodpeckers. Since then I've seen/heard them at three more locations around the city. The Urban Birding mantra is spot on: anything can turn up anywhere, anytime.

_____

I originally wrote this on Monday but just hadn't got around to posting it. As a post script, this lunchtime I ended up leading a bit of an expedition (four workmates) to Lambeth cemetery to spot parakeets (probably cementing my status among my colleagues as a geek). Predictably, they were not to be seen, so they probably still think I'm making it up. We did see a few jays and a green woodpecker though, which for me was more exciting.



*There are various stories about how the parakeets got to London, with my favourite being that, back in the 60s, Jimi Hendrix released a couple of them on Carnaby Street and the rest have descended from there.

Pink eye for the old guy

Tombolablog's recent N.Ireland break included a very enjoyable stopover in Carlingford. We ended up taking part in a village quiz, raising funds for the local community. CP and I were all set to enter as a 2-man team, when we were approached by an elderly gentleman who was in need of a team. We were happy to welcome him aboard (figuring that he could fill in the massive gaps in our knowledge of Ulster current affairs). We didn't win (despite full marks in the music round, get in!) and our hopes of having the Irish bases covered didn't come to fruition either (it was me, not our Irish teammate, that spotted Bertie Aherne in the picture round). However, we had a brilliant time chatting with our new friend, Paddy Small. He was great! He told us lots of stories about the village, his life, his family, and the history of the old watchtower that he lives in, and he very kindly invited us to take a look the following morning. We took him up on the offer and it was a pretty amazing place: several hundred years old with super thick stone walls containing slots for firing arrows.

Here's to Paddy. Sláinte!


Eagle-eyed readers might spot that Brer Smalls is an albino. He specifically asked that I switch off the red-eye reduction when taking that photo, as using it would make him go blind.

Ha ha this a-way

While enjoying my lunch I noticed that my tasty Blackcurrant yoghourt looked very much like the character Squidgy Bog from Paul Daniels' 80s children's TV vehicle, Wizbit.



After much searching, I only managed to find one picture to allow a comparison. Perhaps I shouldn't have bothered.


What I did find during my searching though, is that Wizbit is making a comeback as an animated TV series. Bizarrely, here's the all-new Squidgy Bog talking gibberish.

Gaz usually likes this sort of thing

Had to stop and take a pic of this hair cuttery I spotted in Bushmills, N. Ireland:

















If at the end they offer you any 'product' for your hair, just say no.

Things that make you go hmm

Just a couple of questions to ponder over the weekend:

1. How come all pizza delivery people are Learner drivers?

2. This one frightens me: how do TV news presenters always know where I am? I thought I must have beaten them last week, being in the outer reaches of Ulster. But no, George Alagiah came out with the usual line, 'Now, the news from where you are' and they bloody got me again! It's Big Brother!

What's new, pussycat?

I was saddened to realise yesterday that March 2008 was the first month with no new entries since Tombolablog was conceived. I'll have to make amends in April.

So what better possible way to return, than with a video of a rabbit pooning a kitten?




The cameraman on that intrepid piece of nature reportage? Yours truly, while on hols in Ireland last week. When we looked out of our chalet and saw the two animals approaching each other we wondered if they might have a fight or something. The result was truly unexpected. Gonna give you some sweet lordosis, baby.

The holiday was great and, just like that big, eager rabbit, I fully enjoyed the craic!

Pip pip!

PS
If you can hear the sound on that clip you my have noticed what appears to be a cheeky parp a few seconds in. I honestly don't know if it is me trumping or not. It could well be the sound of the door as an appalled CP goes back inside.

Celebrity washing lines

Now there's an idea for a celebrity panel show...

Last night, something else struck me about that B*Witched washing line*.



Do you think that towel was white when it entered the washer?





* It more than likely isn't really B*witched's washing line

B-I-N-G-O, and Bingo was his name-o

Munch has recently spotted some examples of BBC news correspondents having names that fit the story they are reporting on e.g. Jonah Fisher, the BBC's whaling correspondent or how about Mark Avery, bird behaviour expert?

Well, now I can contribute one of my own. Here's the contents of an email I received earlier today:

Gender Reassignment Surgery

Approximately 300 'sex-change' operations are carried out in the UK every year. Half of these are performed within the NHS. What does this type of surgery involve? And is NHS funding justified given the monetary limitations we face?

Lead NHS Gender Reassignment Surgeon, Mr James Bellringer, Charing Cross Hospital, performs approximately 100 procedures a year. He discusses the complex nature of his work, both surgical and psychological. Come along to hear what should prove to be a very interesting talk and discussion.

All welcome.

She always, always eats her greens...

Picked this up in a charity shop last week:



3 for a quid, including the White Town 'Your woman' single. It's now 1996/7 every night in my house.

Without cheating, can anyone* tell me what the 12 reasons were on Jake Shillingford's off the cuff, shopping list of love?


* I say 'anyone', but really it's only going to be Munch isn't it?

Yo, Moon!

Oh my!

Where are they now? #356

Late 90's pop poppets B*Witched can now be found keeping a very low profile in the tiny North Yorkshire coastal village of Staithes. Washing day appears to be Saturday.

Some people say I look like my dad...

Why was I Great Uncle Bulgaria? I really should have been Tomsk!

It's the story you couldn't make up....I've briefly mentioned on here the time when three of us got a bit of a shoeing while minding our own business, dressed as wombles, and anyone who knows me will no doubt have heard the tale several times. I nearly got to tell the nation when I used it as the 'amusing' story about myself when auditioning for Eggheads, but Dermot decided against asking me about that and enquired about my knitting education instead. Fans of our justice system will be saddened to learn that the miscreants involved remain free and nobody has ever been arrested in connection with the case. But perhaps all of that could now change, as new evidence has recently come to light. A routine inspection of the files has revealed unseen footage from that day in April 2003. If anyone can help, feel free to contact West Yorkshire Police*.



* and while you're at it, why not politely ask them why they miserably ignored my written request to obtain from their archives a copy of the statement that I made at the time?

Altogether now, one last time: Der-ner doww doww!

Some sad news I've just spotted that links to yesterday's entry. I might have to make a pilgrimage up to the Central Line stop later on to lay a wreath.

Anyone got a fave GH moment? Danny Kendall kicking the bucket would be the most memorable for most of our generation I'd guess. Or maybe Zammo and the whole 'Just say no!' thing. I was a fan of Ziggy the scouser and Gonch the ginger and the various scrapes that they would get into, often ending up being chased by Mauler McCall in his American football gear. There's a street two along from mine called Bronson Road that always raises a smile. Stream-of-consciousness trivia time: I think that actor holds some kind of record for playing Adolf Hitler on film.

Still, it'll probably come back in a few years time, like Coco Pops, or Wispas. Actually, have Wispas gone again? I was really chuffed when they came back and now I can't find them anymore. Rubbish.

It takes a nation of tossers

That reminds me, I wonder if I can track down the clip like this from Grange Hill where a teacher (Mr Parrott?) says "Get a move on, get a move on, get a m-m-m-m-m-move on".

[It's worth sticking with the clip until the end as well, and not just until the end of the song]

CARGIANT PROMOTES INFIDELITY

Remember that smarmy, smug-faced buffoon from the Underground poster? Well I'm sorry to bring the horror back all over again, but there is more that needs saying. CP and I were faced with the hateful ad over the weekend and while scowling at it, we took a moment to actually read the text. It's disgraceful!



Dirtbag!

It's lucky that he's thick as well as being a conceited, aloof love-rat. Once his wife spots the ad he's screwed. It may well be a short journey from long face to giant smile, but it's a not particularly long trip from smug face to Decree Nisi either Chris! Ha!

And with that I'm going to stop giving free advertisements to a company with zero morals and shocking taste in promotional material design.

How to lose friends and alienate people

Crikey, maybe I should have stayed away. Yesterday afternoon I was beginning to feel like a Danish cartoonist. Tombolablog wishes to emphasise that it does not support or endorse the bloodletting of anyone (particularly good friends), for the purposes of making them halal, or otherwise. And all of that before my parents read the one about self-abuse...


Let's move on. I finished my scarf!



I actually finished it back in October, meaning it was 'on the needles' for a shameful 21 months. Thanks to everyone who contributed to it's blue and white ribbed majesty - several mistakes were corrected by (in no particular order) Sue, Vanessa, Craig and Gerard. The next project is a hat for CP (using wool given to me by Moon - thanks). I started that one at Christmas and despite slow progress so far, I have high hopes of moving more swiftly this time. That really shouldn't be too difficult, but the Wii now provides an extra hurdle to overcome. Hey - there should be a Wii knitting game! Wiiknit London!

An Inconvenient Truth

I've been pondering putting this one up for some time, because it's not of the best possible taste.



Alright then, sod it. It's my blog.

Last year I grew my own vegetables and tried to buy things in season, and avoid items with massive food miles. I'm always very careful with sorting the recycling properly. But that's small fry really. If we're to have any chance of reducing greenhouse gases and avoiding the looming environmental catastrophe, it needs real effort and tough choices.

Luckily for the world, I think I may have cracked it.
The solution? Masturbate for the environment. Seriously. I've been wanking furiously for the past month and have already more than halved my nocturnal emissions.

I must be a contender for a Nobellend prize with that.