Ninjum

I’d make a brilliant ninja. (Or is the singular actually ninjum? One ninjum – many ninja, like data. Probably not. I wish it was).
After months of ninjum training on the treadmill, I can now do about twenty lengths, back and forth, without stopping. I think this should qualify me for some sort of traineeship at least.
I am skilled in the use of the sword and even occasionally use the fword, which is much worse.
I do have some qualms about assassinating people, but I’m sure we can come up with a compromise. Perhaps, having intimidated them with my reckless use of the fword, I could theatrically threaten a small dog (who I would cunningly conceal about my person and who would also be a highly skilled ninja) unless they agreed to a strict plan of self-improvement. That’ll work.

Personology

Dear Psychologists

Do you know what I think? No? That doesn’t really inspire confidence, does it?
I think that the problem with personality testing is that it’s based on the premise that people can be categorised. I take issue with this, insofar as it seems to be entirely true and I don’t like it.

I therefore propose the following spectrum to allow special people, like me, to be more agreeably compartmentalised by your frustratingly accurate tests:

Transcendent Unfathomability Scale (the following questions are to be answered on an nineteen-point scale, ranging from ‘what?’ to ‘hell yeah!’, with a central point of ‘erm…’)

- I am perfectly able to plan, but I choose to leave my keys in different places every day

- I dislike stress, but embrace procrastination

- I am the lizard king

- Efficiency does not allow for hilarious cat pictures. It must be stopped as soon as we get around to it

- I like getting to know new people, although it’s generally better if they don’t find out I’m watching them

- I sometimes convince myself that the entire universe is a construct of my imagination. The stress of this responsibility then means that I need a biscuit and a nap

- I have names for all twelve of my Chihuahuas, despite never having actually owned one

I tested this on a sample of two thousand imaginary people. Their scores correlated directly with the number of sequins on their pants, proving its validity beyond any doubt.

Cookery for gentlemen II

Beans on toast:

Go to a place where bread and beans are. If the place also contains miserable looking people, pay money for the bread and beans. If the place contains a half-finished bottle of Merlot, some eggs and an unidentifiable furry thing, do not pay any money because it is your fridge. Be aware that the beans will be armoured, so you will have to attack them with a knife until they can be poured out into a cup or suitably large ashtray. Open microwave, taking care not to look directly at the inside surfaces. Frantically poke buttons until a big number appears on the display. Press go. Retrieve toaster from outside your back door and plug it in. Stuff bread into slots and waggle knobs in a futile attempt to find the setting between raw and ash. When smoke alarm sounds, hurriedly rush toaster back outside and extricate carbonised bread by means of violent shaking. Open door of microwave and melt fingertips against cup or ashtray. While waiting for swearing to subside, regard inside of microwave with horrified fascination. Do nothing about it. Position tabasco, beans, toast, plate, cushion, legs and sofa in descending order on the vertical. Marvel at ability of some beans to stay cold while their colleagues attain the temperature of molten lead. Feed to dog. Eat Cheerios.

Networking

Dear West London Fishermen’s Union

My employers have insisted that I attend a net-working event. I’m not a keen fisherman and I haven’t much experience of nets in general, so I’m eager to learn the basics. They just look like a load of holes tied together, but I’m sure there’s more to it. Do you have any instructional videos I could watch?

Do you think the holes will be supplied at the event, or should I take my own? What kind of string do I need to make a dot net framework? Do you think we’ll be able to make stockings? Will it be okay to wear the stockings at the event once I’ve made them? I’ll bring stilettos and a fabulous wig, just in case.

Also, everyone in the office was recently complaining that our entire net-work had ‘gone down’. Apparently it’s come back up again now, but I still haven’t seen any fish. Are we doing it wrong?

Best fishes,

Alex

Love, with error bars

Dear St. Valentine

May I call you St.? Are you at all related to Sesame St.?

Anyway…

I was planning to buy ten roses for the price of a small bungalow, but I got distracted and spent all of my money on anchovies. Will these do instead? I’ve made little cherub wings for them out of toilet paper and suspended them from a wire coat hanger. They look a bit like huge flies. Should I put glitter on them, or would that be weird?

I made a card to go with the anchovies. It says: “I love you more today than yesterday but not as much as tomorrow and a bit more than next Tuesday; probably about the same as that day last week when you made me beans on toast” but I realised that this would be better expressed with some sort of line graph. Then I got worried that the graph could be misleading without proper context, so now I have a sixteen page report with quarterly projections. I’ll sing it to her while she makes dinner.

Will this do?

All the best

Alex

Legitimate concerns

Anxiety is like chasing one-legged vampires – You spend all night frantically going round in circles and in the morning you realise the problem doesn’t even exist.

You know what it’s like, trying to get to sleep when you start wondering if your eyebrows are going to fly up your nose and suffocate you during the night? Nobody knows exactly how many deaths have been caused that way, because the eyebrows have always crawled back by morning. Sneaky little bastards.

Then I start worrying that we’ll run out of internet. Has anyone done a report about that? Someone really should. I bet if someone had done a report about 8-tracks or velociraptors or druids, then we wouldn’t have run out so quickly and we might still have enough to go around. We’d probably have to ration the velociraptors to one per family, but at least we could race them on weekends.

I’m also concerned about the atmosphere blowing away, what with the Earth zooming around in space the way it does. I’ve been practicing holding my breath and I’m up to three minutes, so I should have time to get indoors when it happens.

And what if the blogosphere collapses and all of these posts go flying around with no webbing to restrain them? We’ll all just be walking around the shops, minding our own business, when a huge swarm of viral memes comes and carries off our children. We need to stop creating memes, people! Think of the children!

Acting out

Dear Hollywood

Can I please come and be a movie star? I’m free on Tuesday and I’m already in 3D, so you’d save some money there.

I’ve studied all the great performances and compare my acting style to that of Lassie, although I rarely drink out of the toilet. I’m so good at improvisation I often forget who I really am. As ‘First Flying Monkey’ in a junior school production of The Wizard of Oz, I became so absorbed in the role that the Fire Brigade were summoned to get me out of a nearby tree.

I know that movie stars are judged by the number of tickets they sell at the box office but I’ve never actually worked at a box office so I might need to watch a training video. Actually, I did sell raffle tickets for the village fair once, so you don’t need to worry. I will happily do my own stunts and can bring my own banana skin as long as you give me a replacement banana at lunchtime. When my films are enormously successful I will want the option to buy the DVDs at three for ten pounds.

See you on Tuesday.

Alex

Buttons (probably part 1)

Buttons are great fun until you accidentally press the one that makes your legs explode. It pays to know your buttons. I’ve done the research:

Ctrl C – Ctrl V makes the myriad intellectual wonders of the interwebs appear on your page. Also works for pictures of hippopotami.

Ctrl Z coaxes your heart out of your throat after you accidently replace your entire thesis (Ethnomusicological implications of jungle-dubstep-house fusion in the 21^st century) with a hippopotamus

Ctrl-Alt-Delete… Ejector seat!

The 26 buttons with the alphabetical symbols can by pressed sequentially to produce the complete works of Shakespeare. More often, the sequence results in “lol I pwn you!!!” or similar.

For most of us, the row of buttons at the top of the keyboard is too powerful to control, even with the Ctrl button, which is why they are labelled F – for fear. They do different things, depending on what you’re up to at the time. Which means they know what you’re thinking. They probably don’t approve.

Under normal circumstances, F1 will summon help. This is why mountaineers always carry an F1 button. Pressing Shift and F1 might make a race-car appear, so you should only do it if you have room.

Every time you press F2, a fairy dies. Don’t let me stop you – just saying.

I haven’t figured out what F3 does but I think that if you press it enough times, it makes a rainbow of unadulterated joy shoot out of your screen, transforming everything around you into a sparkly wonderland of singing baby unicorns and cheesecake. It just seems logical.

F4 is known in serious technoguru circles as the necromancy button. It gathers all the skin and hair that collects between the keys and turns it into a tiny, zombie cat (called Curtis). All software developers have at least one of these to fill in their timesheets and to attack anyone who criticises their choice of font.

I’m afraid I’ll have to finish this later. It’s time to feed the dog. To Curtis.

Popular vampires

Dear popular vampires

You are terrible vampires. No offence, but you’re a disgrace. Real vampires are all like “Raaargh!” with really good coats. They don’t sparkle and they certainly don’t knock up vulnerable teenagers, unless it’s all part of a ploy to make them taste better for the inevitable “Raaargh!”.

You see? Eating vulnerable teenagers = good vampire. Getting them pregnant = creepy vampire.

I don’t care if you are the living dead. Just try to have a bit of class about it. Kay? Kay.

All the best for your future endeavours.

Alex

Alternative Processes: Shopping

Process 1 (Hers):

• Identify shops most likely to elicit spontaneous bouncing and rapid hand-clapping
• Identify shops that “only cater to malnourished fifteen year olds”. Do not cross these off list
• Order list in reverse proximity to home (because you might as well pop in, as you’re passing anyway)
• Try three hundred garments, rejecting two hundred and ninety eight of them on the basis that they can be made to fit Part A or Part B, but never both at once
• Briefly contemplate invasive surgery on Part B. Swiftly regain sanity
• Buy two jumpers
• Take one back

Process 2 (His):

• Grudgingly accept that favourite jumper has seen better days – all of which were at least a decade ago – most of which were before the left sleeve started coming off
• Agree to accompany Significant Female to retail outlets for the purpose of jumper replacement
• On entering retail outlet, grunt at overexcited salesbuffoon while wondering whether he’s your size. Seriously consider robbing him for his jumper to avoid having to try things on
• Unconsciously guided by store layout, discover overpriced cashmere jumper section
• Feel heightened perception as pupils spontaneously dilate. Clap hands rapidly, a la demented sea lion
• Consult with salesperson, nodding at the excellent points he makes regarding the false economy of cheap clothing
• Buy three jumpers and a stylish hat that makes you look very like George Clooney would, if he wore a stylish hat
• Never wear stylish hat

Jul-11