Random Stuff

Lena says she read an article recently stating that women talk more than men; 20,000 words a day the little darlings can manage apparently, compared to only 7,000 averaged by we men. And it’s all because our testosterone shrinks the brain area responsible for communication, thus absolving us immediately from all past incidents of “eh… dunno”, “aye… whatever”, “ssshhh, the X-Files is on” and “naw, I don’t think we need to be talking more about our relationship”. Now I’m no anthropologist but that can’t be right, surely? Only 20,000?


It’s funny how writing about chocolate gets the ladieeez all a frenzy. (I nearly used a less polite collective noun for you all there and then thought better of it.) But of course, in the same way that testosterone prevents us men from opening up and hugging more, there’s some hormonal rule that requires that your bodies must have chocolate regularly. I can’t remember the specifics but isn’t it something to do with your monthly howl at the moon? Or is it perhaps how babies are made? Or maybe it’s just to give your mouths a chance to inhale in between the 20,000+ words? Anyway, in answer to your question Lesley, it’s not the Creme Eggs that got smaller…


I got an email from Tony Blair the other day thanking me for taking the time to sign some on-line petition against road taxes or speed cameras or some such thing. It was one of the most articulate and informative responses I’ve ever read from a politician. Which is fine in itself but I thought I was signing up to send all the f#cking BMW drivers to Iraq. Pity.


Four weeks today I’ll be in Austin, Texas. I’m reliably informed that it was 80 degrees there today. It was p#ssin’ down and freezing here. Kilts will be worn and golf will be played. I can’t wait. If you’re in the States and want me to bring anything over from the auld country (Irn Bru, square sausage, shortbread, waif-like minors to take up domestic servitude) drop me a line and let me know. And relax ‘Nook, the Highland Park is packed.


And finally, for no particular reason, here’s a photo of my young nephew Fraser who turned 3 last Saturday. This picture appeared on the BBC’s website recently after a mighty storm caused, unsurprisingly, some severe storm-like damage around his neighbourhood. Don’t be alarmed if you think Fraser looks traumatised by the devastation; he’s actually p#ssing himself laughing ‘cause he broke that fence the day before and didn’t tell anyone and now everyone’s blaming the stupid tree.