Cameron Jogs to Victory

One of the papers this morning, I forget which, had the headline

Cameron Jogs to Victory

on the board outside. When I got inside the newsagents, there it was, a picture of David Cameron, jogging. Really, the headline should have been

Cameron Jogs

or at the very most

Cameron Jogs to to the Shops

I don't know the intimate regulations surrounding the election of the new Tory leader, but I can be fairly confident that it doesn't involve a running race between the two leading contenders. This would, however, be preferable to the current system of Who's Taken the Least Cocaine?

Virtual Naffness

[Warning: Sports follows. You may want to look away if this offends you]
Want to know what it would be like if you were Luke Young in last night's England v Poland match and the ball was sailing over your head for the Poland goal (would you specifically like to know what it would be like if you were also very badly sighted, and were surrounded by less than convincing pixellated representations of all concerned, and the laws of physics were suspended for the day)? Yes? Or did the sentence just confuse you, and you said 'yes' because you were confused, and didn't want to seem rude?

In any case, you should look at this where the BBC represent the exciting moments from last night in glorious Shockwave-o-vision. It isn't actually as bad as all that. It is supremely pointless though. I suppose if you had someone who was scared of football stadiums (a formerly top-flight linesman who witnessed Wayne Rooney getting changed, the trauma of which gave him a breakdown), but was going through counselling, and had to be slowly introduced back to them, but Match of the Day was too upsetting, then I suppose it's of some use. Unlikely though.

My Birthday

It's not long until my birthday. This doesn't give you much time to buy me one of these. Or much time to save up for one. But I'm sure you'll find a way. Thanks.

Busy at work, so not doing much buggering about on the internet, hence lack of posts here. Oh well. The only thing I can think of recently of any importance that has happened to me was the other morning when I woke up, the radio was playing Britney Spear's 'Toxic'. I turned off the radio, and snoozed on. When I eventually woke up, I had in my head a fully formed version of it with alternative lyrics entitled 'Toksvig', in which all the lyrics were changed to be about Sandy Toksvig (pictured here, as the caption suggests 'sharing a passion for Europe'). I have deliberately forgotten all of the lyrics, fortunately, but I was massively disturbed, and this feeling remained for most of the day.

Not the Angriest Man in Crouch End for Much Longer

OK, a slightly maudlin post here. Get those hankies ready, people.

I will no longer be the angriest man in Crouch End. Dammit, I will no longer even be the angriest man in Haringey. The reasons for this are twofold: I'm moving out and Alan B McMurray has just moved into a flat on the Broadway, and he's a mean sonuvabitch when you get on the wrong side of him. Why, just yesterday I saw him punch square in the face fellow Crouch End luminary Bernard Butler for no reason than he was looking older and shorter than he used to. To be honest, I can't compete with the likes of that.

So, I'm moving in with L and swapping Crouch End for either Finsbury Park (for the realists amongst you), Highbury (for the elitists amongst you) or Brownswood Park (for the esotericists amongst you). Whichever way you look at it, we make out our council tax cheques to London Borough of Hackney.

Since you ask, yes, the flat's very nice, thanks. Email me if you want me to send you crap photos that the letting agency vampires took that are rubbish and make the place look like it's underwater when you're drunk and wearing glasses with marmalade on them.

I belive the pressure group Crouch End for People have arranged for a tickertape parade to accompany the transit van down Tottenham Parade, so if you want to come and help me lug boxes, please let me know. My important collection of shingle, stones, pebbles, granite, various igneous and sedimentary rocks, concrete slate and hardback books are all coming with me, you'll be pleased to know. Cheers.