Two words: dwarf shortage.
They say it's 257 steps up to the Whispering Gallery in St Paul's. But I counted an extra one *down* at the end. So that's 258 or 256, yes?
Also, the guy at St Paul's won't believe you're over sixty and eligible for senior discount, even if you explain that you moisturize a lot.
FYI: there's a button you need to press if you want a London bus driver to stop. And now I'm all the way over in Ludgate.
Last tweet was Wordsworth, composed upon Westminster Bridge. He clearly never stepped downriver for a pint on the bank at sunset, like me.
"Earth has not anything to show more fair: dull would he be of soul who could pass by a sight so touching in its majesty."
Today: Westminster, Tate Modern, Covent Garden, Trafalgar Square, Whitehall, Victoria. G'damn, there are PEOPLE *everywhere* in London.
Yesterday: Putney, walked along the Thames at Sunset. I love that Her Royal Majesty's government lets me drink beer whereever I want.
If something had happened to my plane, and my last tweet actually was my Last Tweet, the irony would just have been lipsmackingly delicious.
I should stop tweeting and turn off before we take off: phones make the plane crash, you know. (Yet Al Qaeda waste cash on bombs 'n' stuff?)
I can't think of anything snarky to say about Popped Collar Pink Jersey Guy two rows ahead that he isn't clearly broadcasting himself.
Seems I've been given a midget's seat in the armpit of the plane. Also, Inquisitive Granny to my right, my earphones are a sign: take heed.
At the airport en route to London, I'm not sure if I'm more scared of being seated next to the smelly haggard snorer, or being him myself.
No, self, "acquiral" is not a word, unless you're in a movie and you're talking about the missile that's chasing your jet-powered vehicle.
Lookee lookee what I got: http://twitpic.com/3tt1e [passport acquiral saga ends here] [actual travel saga begins here]
Hours in the voting queue, all I have to show: http://twitpic.com/3rgem (Oh, and freedom, democracy and the best constitution in the world)
(Last tweet was a joke. Would never sacrifice democracy in return for food. Open to vote discussions with the brunette ahead of me, though.)
Anybody also waiting in the #saelections queue in Kenilworth with me: I'll consider voting for your party in return for coffee and a burger.
Apparently if you tell people your vote, it doesn't come true. Also, look the ballot in the eye or it's four years bad luck. #saelections
That said, we have the Jacob Effect, Mshini Wami, Julius Malema, and COPE. We don't need much more. #saelections
Look, America! Democracy without the Bradley Effect, will.i.am songs, plumbers or pregnant daughters! #saelections
(This manic episode has been brought to you by Postnet, my passport problems, and my cellphone. Thanks, you've been a great audience.)
I find myself utterly unreassured by "No, we haven't heard a word, so everything must be going smoothly with picking up your passport".
Oh, now you're done with your conversation, so you're just going to let it ring and ring and ring and ring and ring and ring and ring, eh?
GET OFF THE PHONE YOU USELESS TART
After a phonecall to Zimbabwe and special permission from the Consul, my British passport is finally ready to be picked up... Ladies. *wink*
[x] Make checklist; [x] Tick off first few items; [x] Complain about Monday; [ ] Survive rest of week
(Just to clarify for those following at home, I don't have a PhD, and I don't know anything about mRNA that isn't on wikipedia.)
"Dear Dr Hitchcock", they said. "We cordially invite you to give a speech", they said. "We look forward to hosting you in Dalian, 2009!"
I've just been invited to speak at the 4th China Medical Biotech Forum (http://is.gd/sUHn), on mRNA Therapeutics Development. Seriously.
The British Consulate wants me to fax them my details. I'm assuming that the carrier pigeons are tired and the telegraph operator is sick.
For all those who were wondering: Yes, it was a real goat. No, they're not pressing charges. Yes, it may become an annual event. That's all.
Another shoe-throwing reporter: http://is.gd/raQk - apparently in India, this is considered insulting! Those wacky foreigners, what next?!
In today's world of is.gd and yep.it, tinyurl.com's senile claims of minuteness just seem to be desperately clinging to a faded past glory.
You know it's Monday and you really need this coffee when you realise that you're spooning the powder into a bowl instead of a mug.
Amazing how Americans read in Wikipedia that National Cleavage Day is a National Holiday, and assume the nation in question is theirs.
No, America. NO. National Cleavage Day belongs to South Africa. You can't have it. It's OURS. This is why you can't have nice holidays.
"I've had a tough few weeks. I was addicted to soap, you see. But it's fine, I'm clean now."
An unlikely news article! A ridiculous product! A hilariously paired acquisition! An impossible event, seriously reported! Lol, guys, lol.