Mobile phone-wise, I’m in the dark ages. I have a handed down from OH Nokia 3510i, which is still on pay as you go.

Do you know why this is? Because stories like this scare me to death. Here’s hoping I can survive on OH’s cast-offs and pay as you go for a while longer!

If you ever wondered what Mr Potato Head would look like in a Stormtroopers outfit (I know the strange sort of people who read this site), wonder no more! Perfect OH birthday present, I’m thinking.

UPDATE With thanks to S, Darth Tater. Should have seen that coming, really.

With thanks to the Evolters, who are back and posting, Japanese Vending Machines. Marvellous.

The new information on train delays being published, suggests that 80% of First Great Western trains run on time. Perhaps I’m just unlucky, but I find that if I have an on-time service on the way from Cardiff to London, my return journey will be delayed and vice versa.

I know that these reports are collated from data, probably automatically derived, so there can be no tampering, but if any other sector said “we’re on-time 80% of the time”, there would be an out-cry. Even our local taxi firm is more reliable than the train service we get - and that’s saying something.

I could get obsessed about train services, but have other things to fill my tiny little brain. More soon!

The OH and I took William swimming yesterday. It’s something that we mean to do every weekend, but in fact only get to do about once a month. There are so many competing priorities for the precious time we have on our two days off - including food shopping, cleaning and cooking, to name just a few of the least pleasant ones - that it is always difficult to fit everything in.

On a tangent, this includes visiting people. OH rang his Aunt in West Wales over the weekend, to wish her a bleated happy birthday. She lives just outside Pendine, a trip we can do in just over an hour (ahem - let’s hope none of the local constabulary read this!), but it involves a whole day out, because once we are there, we never get away in under 5 hours (what with them being wonderful hosts and completely besotted not only by William, but also the OH - it takes all sorts!). We haven’t seen Aunt and Uncle since last Christmas, which is disgraceful and something we have to rectify - it’s just when.

Getting back to the swimming, OH and I pitch up to the local leisure centre. Now, we had heard they were introducing a card scheme, we understood, as a way to achieve savings, if you used the services a lot (something I would like to do, but.. (please see previous paragraph)). This seemed to make sense, given local and national pressure to get fit and lose weight. However, we soon discovered that without this card, there had been a huge hike in prices. Although OH and I differ in what we think we used to pay (somewhere just below £2 each), we had to pay £2.50 each last Sunday! That’s a fiver for what, in essence, is 30 minutes in the pool, before William gets bored/tired/red-eyed/full from drinking too much chlorinated water. I’m not sure how much my pilates class is now, but it could be as much as £3.75, given the rise in swimming prices - which gives me little incentive to go back.

I know some of you will think this is only chicken feed - a small amount of money compared with the potential benefits - and in some ways I can agree. However, if you are in work (there are large concessions for anyone on benefits, over 60, etc), but either not on a big salary or with other commitments, this will be a huge disincentive to use the service, which seems a shame.

I’d love to know who thinks up these schemes. It would also be interesting to see what the usage figures for the different facilities look like in a couple of months time. Odds on there will be some outrage about how lazy we are all becoming because we aren’t using the leisure centre. Personally, a couple of laps around the local boating lake are sounding like a much more attractive way to keep fit (especially if the weather keeps nice). Unfortunately, this won’t be such a good option once the rain really sets in.

Is this contradiction the only one - or are services being priced out in your area?

The Other Half tried to murder me last night. No, seriously, he did.

I was quietly minding my own business, settling down to an hour in front of the box (the new series of Spooks), when from nowhere he hurled a Crunchie at my head. And, it wasn’t just any old Crunchie. It was a Crunchie that had been in the fridge for about a week, so it was hard. Really hard. So hard, in fact, that for a few moments I saw lights flashing in front of my eyes and I felt all over-come (in, as the OH described it this morning, a swooning Victorian lady kind of way). However, with my corsets un-girdled, I began to come round.

So, if you see any news reports about my untimely death over the coming weeks, just remember this incident and don’t look kindly on the grieving widow - he could be the murderer! In the interim, he’s had to go to the dentist this morning - which I’m looking at as some cosmic retribution!

There are very often strange train journeys. Then are the journeys you take out of Paddington, back into the wilds of Wales on a Friday evening. Unlike other journeys, they are 80% populated by pissed people trying to get back from their commuter crash-pads in the City to the wife and 2.5 children (plus Golden Retriever) after a few drinks with Toby and Jeremy to wind down. They spend the whole time on the train either talking to their mate, whose sat next to them, slurring his words and obviously about to pass out or vomit (and not going home to wife and children, but rather that rather swish bachelor-pad that’s “bound to attract the “right sort” of candidate for the old ball and chain, ha ha”).

These journeys are often made even more surreal by the fact that random people, having had the odd cocktail after work, will start to talk to one another. Seriously, complete strangers. Mr Hooray Henry (and pissed mate) sat behind me on Friday evening accosted some poor, sober bloke, who’d been born in Mauritius, wore Red or Dead glasses, worked in advertising (although he had only recently changed career into this), had spent the day watching the cricket at the Oval, had driven through India in a Land Rover and got out at Didcot Parkway (he probably doesn’t live anywhere close, but just wanted to get away). Opposite me, on the other hand was a guy who’d trained at UWIC and then done his PhD at the University of Wales College of Medicine, worked on some sort of cell degradation and was pissed off about the fact his department (at Cambridge University) could only give him three-year contracts. The guy he was chatting to had qualified as a doctor, but had left the profession, because he didn’t find it challenging enough in the right way for him. He also couldn’t handle processing patients like parts on a construction line (which is an analogy that I’ve heard several times from ex-doctors).

It is always worthwhile to have a couple of cocktails before you get on the train, that not only helps the journey go faster, but also makes you less embarrassed about listening to other peoples conversations. And why the cocktails, you ask. Our IT Manager is getting married next Saturday, the mad fool. Good luck, anyway, Jon.

Petrol retailers can say what they like. I’ve just had to queue for twenty minutes to get petrol.

As a public service announcement in the Cardiff (West) area, Asda Cardiff Bay has no unleaded (hoping for a delivery at 6pm this evening - 92.9p per litre), Tesco at Penarth Haven has fuel, it’s only 90.9p per litre, but they aren’t sure how long they’ll have it, or when their next delivery will come in (the chap directing the queues told me they’d never been so busy!).

Other Half got petrol earlier at Asda (Dowlais) and paid 92.9p. There didn’t seem to be a problem there, then.

The Other Half went to get petrol last night. Unfortunately, he’d left it until the local supermarket garage had closed and had to go to a small independent garage. They were charging £1.03 per litre for petrol.

On his return to the house, the OH observed

“I feel like I’ve been taken from behind without lubricant!”

Approximately £6 per gallon. Nightmare, considering he’s got a 70+ mile commute every day.

The Other Half told me the other day that there were alligators and sharks swimming around the roads of New Orleans. Honey, it’s another urban legend. That being said, apparently there are lots of snakes swimming around (as if life isn’t bad enough for those people at the moment)

As for reasons for the Hurricane Corsiar seems to have done the best job in rounding up all the fuckwits and religious arseholes via Gert.

And, why we’re providing aid is beyond me. To the RICHEST nation in the world. Seething and slowly coming to a ranting boil.