Thursday randomness

Oops. It's been a couple of days without a new post, and I know Marcosy gets a bit antsy if I don't write something inane to keep him occupied when he's not perving over Katee Sachoff. And quite frankly I think we should all be moving on from the Ron Jeremy/winky discussion that's been dominating things recently. Ron Jeremy; winky; dominating; three words that should not be seen together, at least on this blog.

Anyway ... fasten your seatbelts kids - here we go!

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I keep getting emails from a Russian dating service telling me that Svetlana is waiting for me to reply to her. I don't know, nor have I ever known, a Svetlana. I don't quite know how to stop her from emailing me. I just hope if I ignore her she'll go away eventually. That usually works with girls. (GASP!)

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I'd forgotten about this, but I got to realise one of my Battlestar Galactica fantasies during the bike ride on Sunday (alas not the Number Six Cylon fantasy). Yes, while in formation with Sweatband and Mr Chunt, I turned round, saw another cyclist behind Chunty, and shouted in a miltaristic fashion "There's a bogey on your six!" I suppose you had to have been there, but it could only have been funnier if the guy behind him had sneezed on cue.

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The lovely Nikki has started her own blog! And having passed the 200 posts mark, I took it upon myself to impart my immense blogging knowledge on the unsuspecting lady.

Fortunately, she ignored me and has forged her own path (but seriously, who doesn't like miniature horses?!) It would be super cool if y'all popped over to check out her fledgling blog; and, just for laffs, if you leave a comment it would massively freak her out. Just click on the Roll Credits link over there on the right...

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Excerpt from an email I sent comics pal Graham today:

"Are you going to get an Xbox 360 when the Star Trek game comes out? Because it would be awesome to blow the shit out of each other online. I'll be Kirk and you can be Khan."

Graham didn't like the idea of being Khan. Which reminds me of the time in infant school when I asked my childhood friend Charlie to play Star Trek make-believe with me. I made him be Spock to my Kirk, and lashed him every time he accidently showed emotion.

Seven year-old boys make lacklustre Vulcans, and crap first officers.

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Aaaah... that explains...


Because, quite frankly, who hasn't had the murderous asian triplet fantasy?

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I went for a run last night, but half way round my regular 30-odd minute route I had to stop. The cause? A strange dull ache in my left foot.

Hmmm... Now this is bad, because it ain't so long until the Hampton Court 10k, and I need to get some training done. And worryingly, the area of pain seems to be in the general region of ... the infamous metatarsal that has plagued so many of England's footballers.

And if it is something to do with that I'll be livid.

Broken metatarsals are *SO* last season...

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Well, the bunting's up, and I'm all ready for tomorrow's celebrations. What do you mean "what celebrations?" My god people! Tomorrow is the 40th anniversary of Star Trek!! That being the case, I've cleared the proverbial Friday evening decks, and I'll be settling down for a private viewing (i.e. everyone I invited has politely declined my invitation) of my very favourite example of the franchise - Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan; yes, I know technically I should watch 'The Man Trap', the first episode to have actually aired 40 years ago, but I just think Khan is a much better slice of Trek. And if I'm feeling particularly nerdy, I might just follow it up with back-to-back viewings of Star Treks III and IV.

I believe the neighbours have erected a geek exclusion zone.

Oh, and on a related matter, I think it's safe to reveal why I've been *SO* busy at work recently (and by default, the source of my constant bitching). Find out why I've been such a busy boy here and here.