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Now I've never been much

Now I’ve never been much of a one for Robbie Williams. I mean the man’s a laugh, and it’s good to finally have some pop stars with a sense of humour and some style, even as the manufactured groups get more and more overt and trashy. But I think I could assert that I’ve never really found him attractive. Until that is I saw him this morning in a few sketches he’s done for Comic Relief. Based on the Ted and Ralph characters from The Fast Show (and more than a little based upon Scudder from Maurice), I present for you – uncut half-naked Robbie digging holes.

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Here's an interesting exercise –

Here’s an interesting exercise – Mo Morgan is donating £1 to Comic Relief for every page impression that his weblog gets today. Join me in my question to bankrupt him, by visiting his site immediately.

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Mark becomes the second weblogger

Mark becomes the second weblogger to move his writing into the source-code. Could this be the future? Endless rows of blank-pages, updated two or three times a day with invisible content? Quick, InvestoBoy – to the Businessplanmobile…

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Random

There's a redesign over at

There’s a redesign over at sourground.co.uk that is kind of what I was trying to do with the blue design of plasticbag.org – only, you know, sourground actually works. I’m endebted to the site for another reason – it pointed me towards dreamline.nu – an unofficial fan site for the works of Dave McKean – an artist who often produces the covers for the higher class of comic books.

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Random

Adjunct notice: Despite perceived trashiness

Adjunct notice: Despite perceived trashiness of Mr Big references and forced associations with TV programme Sex and the City, said parallel is allowing me to get a handle on what might otherwise be an intolerably difficult to deal with piece of mental engineering. Hence I fully intend to investigate this particular pathway until it collapses beneath me. Having undertaken the quiz associated with the TV series, however, I was alarmed to be presented with this (edited for length and gender improprieties – unfortunately one found oneself at a professional loss as to how to remove the cheesy bits):

Who you are: Complex and creative. Yet somehow, when it comes to relationships, you’re not adept. You can whine all you want about the way men treat you (usually, like dirt), but it’s the challenge of obtaining the unobtainable that thrills you. Your resolutions this year: To admit you made a few BIG mistakes in 2000 and move on to better things. To kick your vices (that includes seeing that ex you KNOW is no good). To tame those over-indulgent tendencies. To seek out men who might actually be SANE as well as single. In the past, you’ve been swept off your feet by charismatic creeps who are about as available as a lunch table at Le Cirque 2000. The more obnoxious and aloof they are, the more interested you are. When you do find a nice guy, you send him packing: Hey, where’s the angst?”

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E-mail to Big (subject header:

E-mail to Big (subject header: “Message for Mr Big”) has solicited a reply. And an altogether unsatisfying one at that. It appears, in true Sex and the City style, that Mr. Big is in fact part of the family unit “Mr and Mr Big”. This is a piece of information that I was, unfortunately, unaware of until this point. There remains a flirtatious vibe to the correspondence. This, I am afraid, doesn’t surprise me. More to the point, my decision to go along with said vibe to the detriment of my own health and general well-being also doesn’t surprise me. Tempted as I am to place my reply

on the site, I think I might just restrain myself.

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Another addition to the list

Another addition to the list of technical things I need to learn about. HTML I have down pat. Mostly. CSS also mostly there with. DHTML and Javascript I can fudge my way through other people’s scripts just about. The list of languages that I was planning on knowing after HTML included Perl, but until now did not include SMIL – which weirdly looks to be one of the more interesting, and easiest, of the lot.

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I spent a good four

I spent a good four hours of yesterday walking around London in a suit. Not because I had a job interview or anything, but instead because I hadn’t worn one in about a year and a half. I thought it might be nice to look glamorous for a change. I felt great in it – really sharp – except that I appear to have been gradually swelling over the past three years. At times it felt like I was wearing a corset.

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In what may or may

In what may or may not be the last Big related post of the evening, Tom confesses to his adoring fans that he has failed in his attempt to withhold reciprocal contact (after phone call yesterday morning) and caved in and sent an e-mail this evening at 7.20pm on March 14th, this year of our Lord, 2001. Tom would like to add that this is only fifteen hours prior to schedule. That’s not too bad. Right? [helpful advice]

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Television

In celebration of stroppier TV characters…

Much television is anodyne, unimaginative and without redeeming characters or plots. Even those which are imaginative and intelligently put together are often morally dubious. Take Ally McBeal for one. This is an imaginatively made TV series which celebrates and indulges the lunacies and inadequacies of a thirty-something lawyer, when if the world were even the slightest bit sane, Ally would be ritually humiliated every week before being put into the army to sort herself out and the series would be renamed “Thing”.

It is for this reason that we celebrate those who identify ‘inappropriately’ – those who don’t think that Carol and Doug were always right and that actually Kerry should have slapped them around with her cane until they were a bloody pulp for being so self-importantly dramatic all the while (‘Oh my tortured romance’) rather than just getting on with the bloody job – those who wish Gunther would pull out an Uzi and pump hot metal death into those parasites who clog up his coffee bar – those who pine for the day when Mulder and Scully pop off for a shag, leaving the Lone Gunmen … Oh hang on a minute …

It is for this reason that I recommend you ignore Meg’s appeal to not go and do the Bridget Jones quiz. Because it has declared me The Anti Bridget – and cutting past the bullshit description [“You’re nothing like Bridget, but you’re very much like her bossy, happily engaged, real-estate-shopping officemate Perpetua – perpetually organized, perpetually on top of things, perpetually a pain in the arse.”] – I have declared myself Arch Nemesis of Jones The Hag. Schlurp your chianti while you still can, woman. We’re here to bitch-slap you from the face of the planet…