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January 16th, 2009
09:25 am
Rules:
*Grab the book nearest you. Right now.
*Turn to page 56.
*Find the fifth sentence.
*Post that sentence along with these instructions in your LiveJournal.
*Don't dig for your favorite book, the coolest, the most intellectual. Use the CLOSEST.
nicked from paragraphs
"Tra La Diddle Daddle"
- from Pam Ayers 'The Works: The Classic Collection'.
lol. It's a really good book. Somehow it just seemed to have an epic line-fail.
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06:19 pm
Inbox: The Guardian Jobs has sent you a message
Me *clicks with some hope, after all, the last job they sent me using this particular alert method, as opposed to the daily digest, it was for the museum job which I was not only suited to but reached interview stage on*
Guardian Jobs: Look! Look, Localfreak! Here is a job you might like: it's in....PUBLISHING!....It's IN THE NORTH!! It's for GRADUATES!! EDITING BOOKS!!
Me: *in high frenzy *CLICK**
Job Description: "Required: A high degree (2:1 or higher) in MATHS or a SCIENCE"
Me: *deflates*
*sigh*
Well, even with that somewhat shaky start, the day wasn't a total loss. I got some correspondance done, I dusted and hoovered through and so on. My modest achievements are, at least, something.
the Times blog have issued a (rather late) post-mortem apology to their scathing criticisms of Alessandro Moreschi (CDs of whom I am still, sadly, lacking). The Last Castrato. A little tongue-in-cheek for my liking, but there is is nontheless.
Apparrently there's an efford to induce a folk revival focussing chiefly on American folk music. I wish I could see it live. I hope Mike Harding will cover the show on his radio programme.
In more depressing news Boy George has been sentenced to 15 months in custody for handcuffing and threatening a male escort. It all sounds very knotty. And it's terribly depressing to look at the pictures of Boy George (not really much of a boy now, of course) he's just...some fat sleazy drug-addled old man. And that depresses me; he was SO PRETTY once-upon-a-time. Possibly this just shows that money doesn't always (or even often) lead to good. Or possibly it just shows that Boy George has become a dirty old man. Either way.
John Mortimer has died. This is also sad, for I like Rumpole stories very much, though I probably missed their hey-dey when they were groundbreakingly unusual.
Had a lovely evening watching Victorian Farm they had GINGER PIGS. (who were very comely, for pigs) and a Shire horse and chickens and such. I was quite in awe of the making of the Christmas pudding, and the use of the pudding cloth, much to mum's amusement, who remembers such things being commonplace. I rather wish they still were!
and now I'm listening to the lastest episode of the News Quiz- LMAO at the last digs of George Dubbya and Blair. And describing Milliband as the Wallace to Brown's Gromit.
Current Music: The News Quiz-BBC Radio 4
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