...

Some blogs I know

  • Freckles and Doubt
    Considering her mastery of narrative structure etc. (insert narrative structure here.....)
  • Trailer Park Refugee | just three shots of tequila away from a bar fight….
    Just three shots of tequila away from a bar fight...
  • Exile on Pain Street | Straddling the Hudson River. One foot in NYC, the other in suburban New Jersey.
    One man's story, etc.....
  • Fat Man on a Keyboard
    'At first they came for the smokers but I did not speak out as I did not smoke. Then they came for the binge drinkers but I said nothing as I did not binge. Now they have an obesity strategy...'
  • New York Bike Blog
  • Belgian Waffle
    Prolific? Bien sur. Waffle? Not a bit of it. The best thing to come out of Belgium since Leffe Blonde, and that is saying something.
  • Non-working monkey
    'Why taking work seriously turns you into a cock', among other lifesavingly important career advice.
  • Razorblade of life
    'Not so much cutting-edge as half-cut and still sliding'...
  • blue cat
    This blue cat fellow (he writes for the telly you know) issues forth an apparently effortless stream of grade-A funniness that has me overcome in turns by helpless laughter and shameful, powerful envy. There I've said it.
  • Joella
    Joella in Oxfordshire. Working for The Man while training to be a plumber (I think!). Loves gherkins, hates aubergines... and Fascists.
  • Bushra
    Bushra's blog/ homepage/ call it what you want
  • Dubsteps (formerly Hobo Tread)
    Thoughts of Skif, a Havant and Waterlooville fan exiled in Liverpool- possibly the most engaging non-league football writing to be found on the web- and with a little bit of politics, and plenty more beside!
  • Tired Dad
    The Man Who Very Nearly Fell Asleep
  • troubled diva.
    Mike, the self-styled 'Fairy Godmother of British Blogging'. He got us all published in a book, you know...
  • Private Secret Diary
    Dispatches from deepest Norfolk. Not that private and not that secret. Just consistently hilarious.
  • The man who fell asleep; Sadness and ecstasy in unequal measures
    The book inspired by this veteran site (A Year in the life of The Man Who Fell Asleep) features the 'sarcastic polar bears of north London' among other oddities that the author manages somehow to render absolutely plausible.
  • Pete Ashton's Internet Presence
    Birmingham's finest. Writing with enviable clarity on every subject under the sun since 2000 (a very long time indeed!). Now with added nice pictures of canals and stuff...
  • Looby
    'An awkward, clumsy fellow; a lubber; a novice'....a venerated (if refreshingly irreverent) blogging institution. Lancaster's very finest!
  • RichardHerring.com
    The comedian Richard Herring's kind of online diary thing. Always worth a visit.

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« The Inside of a Boy's Head | Main | Hovering above the trap-door »

January 07, 2011

Comments

looby

Oh dear, sounds like 2011 has arrived with something of a bang. Well done for stepping into the breach up north over New Year.

Just on a minor technical point, and I'm not sure whether you've done it deliberately or you knocked some arcane set of keys all at once after the fourth sherry of the day, but it's a lot easier to read now. The print seems darker and it's more widely spaced. These things start to matter when you reach the age when you do hair loss audits every morning.

Did many people correctly get Belmondo or the film?

Jonathan

Your second guess re the cause of the change of font size is nearer the mark Looby but as a special service to a loyal commenter I will try to remember what key it was I pressed and press it again next time. And next time there's a quiet afternoon at Crinklybee Towers I'll get one of the boys onto a cure for baldness. No, don't thank me, it's the least I can do.

I meant to say in the post but no-one guessed who I was dressed as- there were plenty of wide of the mark suggestions, including Columbo and 'the Stretford Flasher' (who I am not sure is technically a Hollywwod character, it was the raincoat you see). Fortunately I had guessed a cue of some kind might be in order so had tucked away in by breast pocket a small black and white postcard featuring a still from Au bout de souffle, which I brandished by way of explanation at increasingly regular intervals as the evening wore on.

abby

eeee, I want to hear about the sardines even though I was there in person! And I wonder if there is a name for people who stalk their old cars. It sounds like something de Botton would have a chapter on.

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