I haven’t really, but it’s an appropriate title for a post about the wonderful Whatever happened to Baby Jane? The Joan Crawford/Bette Davis classic about sibling rivalry taken that touch too far.

It’s ages since I’ve seen the film, but something brought it to mind the other night: pissing about with a phone camera, I took this shot of me and my lovely sister

Nothing remarkable about this. We’re both mingers, so it’s no great surprise that a photo would turn out this way. However, at a second glance, one thing sprung to mind:

Hammer Horror
I love Hammer Horrors and was thrilled at this shot in which Anna bears a remarkable resemblance to Vincent Price…. priceless!

And look what chasing me through the streets of central Manchester this morning!

True or False
There’s time to give your answers to the True or False statements until tomorrow I think. Some folk have been very close, while I’m quite shocked and appalled at what some people think of me.

Well, good old Coldcoldearth had a fantastic post in which he made 20 outrageous statements about himself – 10 of which were true. I’ve now been invited to do the same thing here. Deep joy.

Can blogworld be bothered to strip fact from fiction? Remember, 10 are true, 10 are false. What do you think?

1. I refused to meet one Health Secretary and was abusive to another
2. I have engaged in sexual activities in the workplace
3. When I was a student, I had a regular summer job in an abattoir
4. I was once run over by a horse
5. I have broken into a house to retrieve my cat
6. I have lied under oath to protect a friend
7. I used to play bass guitar in the school band
8. I don’t always brush my teeth before going to bed
9. Driving at 30mph pisses me off and I only slow down if I know there’s a speed camera
10. I am an alcoholic
11. I once offered to be a surrogate mother for my sister
12. I have never eaten cottage cheese
13. I have met the Pope
14. Drunk at a Christmas party, I called my boss Jacob Marley and told him to fuck off
15. While at university, I considered taking holy orders and joining a convent
16. When I was a student, I stole garden furniture from the halls of residence that neighboured our flats
17. I was evacuated from Marks and Spencer in Manchester city centre the day when the IRA blew it up in 1996
18. I have been engaged to be married
19. I was arrested during the Poll Tax AND student loans demonstrations
20. I graduated top of my class

Blimey, that was hard work. Doing things like that makes you realise how dull your life really is.

Bluetooth redemption
I’ve acquired a USB bluetooth adapter for my PC. It’s such fun and it makes it really easy to transfer stuff between my phone and PC (photos, music, etc). It’s a phone, for fuck’s sake, why does being able to transfer photos and music to and from it matter? I’ve no idea, it just does.

Flattery will get you everywhere
In case readers here haven’t noticed, Piggy and Tazzy have been running a Cakesniffer special over at the Chocolate Starfish. Their efforts are well worth a look.

Life certainly does get in your way!

You need your sleep to recouperate from a hectic day of scowling at siblings, being put out by their requests for technical support, eating fucking delish curry…

As part of the Sniffy Experimentals programme of fully validated and peer reviewed scientific work, I conducted a sleep experiment last night. Interested in knowing how much I move about while sleeping, in order to make an informed decision on easy-care or Egyptian percale bed linen, I thought I’d employ the full technical capability of my camera to find out.

My camera is no slouch and it is has an “intervalometer” setting, whereby it will automatically take a picture at a set interval for up to 100 shots. You can use it for taking photos of flower buds opening and that kind of shit.

Anyway (!) I put it to the test last night. I set the camera on its little tripod on my bedside table and set the shutter to fire every 5 minutes. The green AF assist beam and shutter noise (must remember to turn off that sound effect) were only disturbing for the first two hours and I fell into a deep slumber. Unfortunately, I forgot to set the shutter speed appropriately, so there are about 80 frames of complete blackness until dawn started to break. My last hour of sleep was caught thusly:

How earily still is that? I missed the last one off where my eyes were half open, which gave me the appearance of a victim of a strangulation.

So that was fun.

Me and Anna did a hill this afternoon. The plan had been for her to come round this morning, we’d then do some shopping, then go up a hill. She arrived at 2.30, ate two lunches, was on the phone for an hour and we left at about 4pm. Still, this is us atop Holcombe Moor near Ramsbottom.

That’s Winter Hill in the background and those are the masts that bring the North West of England its television. Blow the fucking things up and get the thick fuckers to learn to read is what I say, but I’m not in charge.

Holcombe Moor is home to Peel Tower, which was constructed in honour of local celebrity Sir Robert Peel, the former black pudding salesman who brought us or Boys in Blue (overweight, useless Nazis in stab-proof vests who never leave the safety of their vans unless they can get on the telly when it’s a murder). You can see right into North Wales from up there. Well you could if the visibility wasn’t always hampered by the shit weather we get here.

This is me in front of the tower. Yes, my trousers are tucked into my socks, I apologise; it’s been raining a lot and, it being moorland, is very good at retaining water and being muddy.

There’s also an MOD firing range near there. If we’d gone early enough, I was going to get Anna to try and find it.

Tell you what’s good VFM? Flickr Pro: you pay £15 a year and you don’t need to worry about reducing the size of photos before uploading them.

Oh! Feel free to add yourselves to my Frapper map thing over there>>>>>> (under my e-mail address). It’d be nice to build up a map of where everyone comes from. Does anybody get any Aussie visitors?

With November rapidly approaching, the relentless fall of leaves from trees, dipping temperatures and short days, there’s no escaping the fact that it is well and truly autumn and that winter will soon be upon us.

Ah well, there’s no point giving in to depression. I might as well embrace the changing seasons (groan) and make the most of it. Winter has its positives: there’s Christmas; and the run up to it; and the food; buying lovely pressies for lovely people…. and wrapping up warm.

There’s something nice about wearing your big quilted winter coat, pulling your gloves and hat on. It’s kind of like being cuddled. Even more so if you’ve got a nice scarf to wear. Oooh, wrap it round your neck to keep the chill out – a nice long one will even add extra warmth to your chest.

Fantastic.

Why then, do I hate THIS:

For some reason seeing a scarf worn in this particular way really winds me up and I don’t know why. I think it’s because I work near the universities in a large city that has the largest student population in Europe. Each day, I’ll see these nubile young things hopping off buses, laughing, thin, optimistic, attractive, fashionable, popular. There are LOADS of them, all wearing scarfs tied in this way – but they never wear an overcoat!

This is called the “European casual” or “European loop-through” method of tying a scarf:

Bluetooth shite reconstruction:

• Blondie (from: Picture this; Hanging on the telephone; Union City blue; Dreaming)
• B52s (from: Summer of love; Ain’t it a shame; Song for a future generation; Queen of Las Vegas; 52 Girls; Give me back my man; Dirty back road)
• Tori Amos (from: Cornflake girl; A sorta fairytale; Precious things; Yes, Anastasia)
• Kate Bush (from: The big sky; The man with the child in his eyes; James and the cold gun; Houdini; Rocket’s tail; Never be mine; L’amour looks something like you)
• Madonna (from: Into the groove (original); Ray of light; Revenge; Like a prayer; Beautiful stranger)
• George Michael/Wham (from: Cowboys and angels; Freedom 90; Too funky; You have been loved; Club Tropicana)
• Kylie (from: Hand on your heart; Better the devil you know; Shocked; What do I have to do?)
• S’Express – Superfly guy
• Lemon Jelly – The Saunton lick

Of course, these are just the ones from my favourite artistes. There’s also a huge selection of one offs that I could make a top million out of.

I’ll work on it, I’ve noticed there’s no Abba in there. It needs work and lots of careful consideration.

Eeeh, I’m happy. Just downloaded the new Kate Bush single. Even if it was totally shit, I’d love it. But it’s not shit, it’s fuckin’ ace.

My music acquisitions this week have been:

Downloads
Madonna’s Hung up
Rachel Stevens’s So good
Kate Bush’s King of the mountain

Real music
Lemon Jelly’s ’64-’95

About 10-15 years ago, I was really into my music and there was rarely a moment when I wasn’t listening to something. It’s weird how habits change, but with all this stuff on my PC here, and the fact that I’m ALWAYS on my PC, I should really listen to more; I think it’s quite good for me.

Aahhh, Kate Bush eh? Fantastic.

Playing with Google maps, it’s dawned on me that you can essentially click and drag yourself around the entire world, with a satellite view of the land below. It’s sort of a weird hot air balloon experience I suppose.

This one shows where I live (blue) and the places I travel to for my job. The furthest orange blob is over 30 miles from the blue blob.

Looking at the close up satellite image of my locality,

The proportions have been stretched a bit oddly in this one, but I can see my front lawns that are a pain to mow, but not the back garden because it’s completely obscured by a sycamore canopy. There’s my fucking shitforbrains neighbour’s minibus that, after over 6 years, he STILL can’t manoeuvre off his drive without the world knowing about his huffing and puffing. I can see the store over the road, path I take to go for walks down the local woods, the motorway slip road, the wagons at the transport dept over the road from me…

The wagons that, despite having loads of room to park in the transport depot, repeatedly block my drive when the dickhead drivers park on the road. The wagons that provide a constant wave, after wave of noise as they set off, seemingly in convoy from about 4am. The wagons whose drivers stand on the roadside and have conversations with each other (about the considerations of parking in a residential area no doubt) in the early hours of the morning – it obviously gives them something to do while they’re waiting for their cabs to warm up with the heat of the massive engines that they leave running for ages before setting off on their journeys.

Utter cocks.

Yay! Utter cocks
I’ve had a comment from the Finnish Yay! Cakesniffers who have called me a bully for picking on people who can’t look after themselves.

“You are a very mean person. You are a bully. You pick on people who are not capable of looking after themselves. Shame on you.Why?“

Gosh, who have I upset? A religious group, people with disabilities, black people, Chinese people, greedy lazy dolescum?

No, I’ve “picked on” some Finnish kids. Apparently I’m an aggressive blogger who’s been leaving nasty comments on their blog (in my sleep obviously), so they’ve changed something or other.

Yay!

No idea what they’re on about, but never mind. I don’t feel the need to defend myself, however, I’d like to reiterate that I’m not in the business of leaving comments on people’s blogs unless I’m being complimentary, if I’ve got a valid point to make or something to add in keeping with the ongoing discussions. There’s no way I’m giving comment kudos to utter shit. On the other hand I have been known to make observations about other people’s efforts here and there and in some other places, but this is every blogger’s right.

I’m sure if I did a search for comments about me or this blog, there’d be quite a few that were not particularly complimentary, but so what? It’s everybody’s right to have their say about stuff, so let them get on with it.

Grow up.

An edit: Shitting trickster! (See comments)

Eaten too much.

Sometimes it DOES take a Rocket Scientist!! (true story)

Scientists at Roll Royce built a gun specifically to launch dead chickens at the windshields of airliners, and military jets , all travelling at maximum velocity. The idea is to simulate the frequent incidents of collisions with airborne fowl to test the strength of the windshields.

American engineers heard about the gun and were eager to test it on the windshields of their new high speed trains. Arrangements were made, and a gun was sent to the American engineers.

When the gun was fired, the engineers stood shocked as the chicken hurled out of the barrel, crashed into the shatterproof shield, smashed it to smithereens, blasted through the control console,snapped the engineer’s back-rest in two and embedded itself in the back wall of the cabin, like an arrow shot from a bow.

The horrified Yanks sent Rolls Royce the disastrous results of the experiment, along with the designs of the windshield and begged the British scientists for suggestions.

Rolls Royce responded with a one-line memo: “Defrost the chicken.”

My dear, darling sister is a year older than me. This means that, biological clock-wise, it’s a rapid tick-tock countdown to her being barren. Her plan for 2005 was to meet the man of her dreams, convince him that she’s not completely mental, get married and get pregnant so she could have a baby before it was too late.

You remember Anna, don’t you? The one I went to Rome with? Remember how many times I wanted to kill her in that short space of time? So, are we surprised that Mr Right keeps slipping through Anna’s desperate clutches? And her insistence on wearing makeup and fussing about her appearance! Then again, given what she has to work with, I should really be more understanding.

But I do love her to bits and it’d be great for her to find happiness, to have her dreams come true.

I have a cunning plan. She’s buying a house with her lovely friend, who is a gay chap. They’ve known each other for years – since they met up a mountain in Vietnam of all places. Anyway, fed up of living in their separtes terraced houses, and resigned to the single life, they’re taking the plunge and buying a semi together in one the leafy suburbs that used to be a red light district, but is now very up and coming – apparently.

I’m going to suggest that they have a baby together and I’m going to buy them a turkey baister as a moving in present.

It’ll be SO FAB!

My only fear is that she’s already thought of it and that she steals my thunder. We’re going out for a family meal to celebrate Dad’s birthday tomorrow; I think I’ll brink it up over the bruschetta. It should go down rather well I think.

What the world is waiting for
Remember the Stone Roses? Weren’t they great?

Anyway, cakesniffy yes/no responses:

1. Ginger beer
YES, FUCKIN’ DELISH! Nice and spicy. People in the UK should try “Bottle green” ginger and lemongrass cordial diluted with cold fizzy water, it really is the business.

2. Toe nails
No, not really. No matter how they’re dressed up, they’re pretty fucking disgusting, especially big fungal ones that come out to torment people in the summer.

3. Getting new technology for no justifiable reason
Hrrrm, yeerrrrsss, or at least I would if I was completely stupid with my finances. It’s so tempting to get an iRiver, new PC, new stereo with the “spare cash” that I’ve got, but I’m going to be good and pay a chunk of a credit card (boo hoo). I have, however, just acquired a new mobile phone. The old one is more than adequate, a lovely phone, and does all that I want, but I fancied a new one, so I got one. Dick. At least it was free.

4. Flirting with your line manager
Yes, I’m afraid I’ve found myself doing this a little bit over the past few weeks. Tut, tut, tut.

5. Tinned spaghetti
No fucking way! Never tried it, don’t want to go near it. Strange that I like macaroni cheese and tinned ravioli.

6. Wrapping up warm in winter
Yessiree! But only if I get the go ahead from the government. I love being nice and toasty in the winter, to the point of inducing febrile fitting. I’d love to see Herge in his duffle coat too.

7. Sycamore trees
Yeah, love em to bits, absolutely love the fucking things dropping their shit all over my car and garden and blocking all the fucking light. Right on, more sycamores!

8. Grey squirrels
Fucking cunts, but I do kind of like them for their audacity. They’re pretty cute.

9. Anchovies
YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!! I adore these little fishies in all their incarnations: marintated or salty, I can eat ’em by the dozen. On a proper oven-baked pizza with black olives is simply deeeeeevine. Also, the marinated ones are perfect on a nice tomato salad bruschetta – fuckin delishiozo!

10. April pissoff
Abso-fucking-lutely! Love this woman, love her blog. She’s a goddess, she’s clever, she’s witty, she makes me howl laughing. A definite “yes” to April.

The song was Native New Yorker by Odyssey. This was correctly recognised by my sworn enemy Treacletrade, but good on him/her/it. A temporary truce has been called until they piss me off again. Won’t take long

A night off
I’m not going to be around until Friday night because of the family meal tomorrow evening. Oh boy, what a fun time I’m in for!

Coming up…
What NOT to wear… Quiz show contestants… Hammer House of Horror… Photography tips for Canon S2 IS owners (yep, that’s you Lisa!)… People who call their daughter Bryony then fail to own a Porsche!