The number of site visits - who's counting? (2nd November 2002)

Regular visitors may have been a bit puzzled by the number on the counter seen on the left-hand side of this site. A couple of weeks ago it topped the 47,000 mark. Then it dropped to 500-odd. The reason, dear reader, is that my service providers had a spot of bother with the counter program after they upgraded their server hardware. All should be fixed now, although I've had to make a guestimate at the true number. The last real figure I had recorded was 47,170 and I know there have been about 550 visits since then. So, the corrected figure should be about right. Mind you, apart from me, does anyone really care? I thought not..

And if you're interested, here's a bit of history about the site traffic. The most visits I ever got in one week was 1,836 (January 2002). But then there was a steep decline in April, and it's now been a long time since visits topped 200 in one week. Why, I don't know. Perhaps it's because visitors started to realise the tag line "absolutely nothing of any real interest... guaranteed" is actually true.

A tribute to the men who keep our highways in a state of repair (22nd October 2002)

Last week marked the anniversary of some roadworks along the A30, Virginia Water, Surrey (England). I've tried to measure the distance that the area undergoing repair covered, but it didn't even equal 0.1 of mile and therefore didn't crank a notch on the car's mile-ometer. So why am I telling you this? Well, the point of interest is that the roadworks (to repair an elevated section of road, which we've already established is less than 0.1 of a mile) were originally accompanied by a sign stating that it would take 16 weeks commencing October 2001. Okay, 16 weeks from October should take you through to February the year after at the latest. I endured one lane of narrow traffic all through the Winter... February 2002 came and went, and eventually a sign appeared stating "completion in Spring 2002". For those unfamiliar with the British climate, Spring normally occurs on a week in the middle of May. By the end of April, they'd finished one side of the road... and then they crossed over and started on the other side.

This week, they finished that side of the road (I say finished, actually it still looks incomplete, but at least the traffic cones are out of the road and pedestrians have access again). So, Spring was late this year. However, the laugh is, they've gone back over to the side of the road they started on, and they're digging it up again. Hands up - if you put in a similar performance where you worked, how many of you would expect to keep your job?

Further evidence of the Great British protector-of-the-highways was seen closer to home tonight... right outside our house to be precise. For the last year, the tarmac around a manhole cover just across the road has been crumbling. For the past 6 months I've been thinking "next car to drive over that is going down the hole". Every time someone drives past, you hear a resounding "clunk-clonk" of the manhole cover rocking in it's rapidly diminishing situ. Calls to the local council have been greeted with an attitude somewhere between apathy and complete disinterest. Until tonight...

It was dark by the time two men got out of a lorry. They spent a while smoking and poking at the crumbling road. Surely they were just inspecting it pending proper repairs. Well, no... I couldn't believe what I saw next. They pulled some molten tarmac off the lorry and covered the manhole cover - not just the gaps around the edges, they actually covered the cover. The result was a mound of tarmac that now rises a good 4 inches above the surface of the road. The manhole cover is still underneath of course - I know this because, later, when I took the dog for a walk, a car drove over it. The driver might have been surprised by the new hummock in the road... I wasn't surprised to hear the tell-tale clunk-clonk of the manhole cover shifting underneath. Nice job lads.

Irritating minor football-playing nations (16th October 2002)

I'm always complaining that there isn't enough comedy on television, but this wasn't what I had in mind. This piece of light entertainment featured some guys from Eastern Europe dressed in red trotting round a field in Southampton trying to make a group of rich men look like mugs. It also featured a Swede who ended up looking like a turnip.

Macedonia - ah, there it is... head for Albania and then take a left

The first rule of England's international football campaigns should be "if you can't locate their homeland on a map, you should be able to get a result against them". It worked against Slovakia - try pointing to that on a map. Since the Eastern European countries started fragmenting we've ended up with more obscure places and more countries not making the cut in the Eurovision Song Contest. Okay, we all know where Andorra and San Marino are, but then the second rule should be "if they're landlocked and restricted to a small space between a couple of mountains, you should be able to give them a sound thrashing".

So what about Luxembourg? That falls into the third category of "having a population so small that if you're male, aged between 18 and 50, and have two legs and your own pair of boots, you stand a half-decent chance of getting into the team". Liechtenstein may also fall into this category (and they probably wouldn't be so strict about the boots), but I'm not even sure I've spelt it correctly so we'll leave it there.

So... Macedonia... somewhere near Albania I think. Before the match started, the commentators and the team of respected pundits stated that this was merely an exercise in improving our goal difference en route to the 2004 European Championships. Sure. Unfortunately, the Macedonian team hadn't read the script. Never mind, I'm sure Liechtenstein will be far more accommodating, and as for Turkey... hang on, didn't they come third in the World Cup? Oh...

Tales from Holland, and more stuff about manufactured pop bands (13th October 2002)

I spent three days in Holland last week. Ah, the fair city of Amsterdam I hear you say - the strange tobacco, the women of dubious upbringing, the... errr... canals. Well, actually no. The car carrying myself and two colleagues passed Amsterdam and headed North. And so onto the fair town of Emmeloord. Or rather to a hotel on the outskirts of the fair town of Emmeloord, a place that the term 'middle of nowhere' was invented for. For the next three days I existed between my room, the hotel's restaurant, the meeting room, and the odd sortie to the hotel's main entrance to remind myself that there was an outside world.

I learnt one important lesson... when in Holland, take care when ordering a steak. If you want it medium to well done, ask for it extremely well done. They tend to undercook to your instructions. How can I put it...? If there'd been a medical emergency in the hotel, I could have rung out my steak and provided enough blood to give someone a transfusion.

And that's it for Holland, except to note that they have loads of modern windmills producing wind power (we used broccoli and baked beans in England), and also that they exist for much of the time below sea-level. Emmeloord was apparently under sea water thirty-five years ago (it hasn't improved much since). It's amazing to see a field bordered by a fifteen foot wall (dike) that has sea rising to just three feet from the top on the other side. It's really quite simple... when the polar ice caps melt, our Dutch friends are screwed.

So, what of the manufactured pop bands? As much as I don't really like 'pop music' or boy-bands, I am enjoying ITV's latest build-your-own-pop-band television show, 'Popstars: The Rivals'. This is the third iteration of roughly the same theme, and once again (despite the odds) it does make great entertainment. The BBC also have a version of the idea running at the moment ('Fame Academy'), but they've completely failed to impress by missing one important ingredient... that being, if there's one thing better than watching and listening to great singers, it's the pitiful spectacle of the extremely hopeless and talentless going through the auditions.

'Popstars' draws an interesting comparison with another show, 'Big Brother'. If you're British, you'd have had to have spent the last three years abroad, in a coma, in a cave, on the moon, or in a high-security penal establishment (so, that doesn't include Jeffrey Archer) to have not heard of 'Big Brother'. In a nutshell, ten attention-seeking nobodies spend what seems like six months in a house, with one being voted out each week. And that's rather like the latest series of Popstars, where ten people (five of each sex) will be voted off in the next few weeks. Now, people go mad over Big Brother, but treat Popstars with a severe amount of disdain. Is that fair? Let's examine Big Brother... God-knows how many weeks of watching the incumbent cretins sitting on their backsides, spouting their own special brand of ignorance, putting on each others' clothes through sheer boredom, and occasionally sharing beds (which is enough to whip the tabloids in a frenzy of bad headlines). Ultimately the house members have nothing to offer. Compare this with Popstars, where the final ten (actually twenty this time round, because they're forming two bands) are talented and entertain the public each week before having their dream of pop-stardom shattered or temporarily extended.

Having said that, look at the winners of the first Popstars series - the now defunct Hear'Say. Not a happy ending. Compare that to the winner of the more recent Big Brother... Kate Lawler received the highest accolade in the world of glamour - she modeled the ladies' clothes in the 2002 / 2003 Arsenal catalogue. Shame they don't have a swimsuit section (I didn't say that).

And finally, I felt especially sorry for Andrew Kinlochan, who was the first to be voted off Popstars: The Rivals. If getting the least amount of votes out of the ten guys wasn't bad enough, he then had to suffer the indignity of being interviewed by mock-Cockney muppet Dane Bowers and the vacuous Donna Air (so named because that's what she's got between her ears). No-one deserves that. Bad as he is at presenting a television show, Dane produced the greatest moment of the evening... as the commercial break started, Dane started to do a link, realised he wasn't on camera, and was heard to utter "oh shit". Priceless - thanks Dane.

Lotus strike back with Notes 6 (1st October 2002)

I usually prefer to keep the work-related stuff off my private site, but I couldn't let today's news go by without a mention. Today was a very important day in the software industry. No, not another patch to prevent a Microsoft Exchange server being taken out by this week's virus. Today was the day that Lotus Software shipped version 6 of Notes and Domino. If you didn't know, Lotus' messaging & groupware flagship product line is still number one, with 49% of the revenue in it's market (according to industry analysts IDC).

While your friendly neighbourhood Microsoft rep may have been telling you that Lotus were folding under the weight of Microsoft's marketing, the truth is that our developers have been busy working on a product that beats Microsoft's Outlook / Exchange on all counts. Ask your Microsoft rep how secure their products are... hell, even one of their own Vice Presidents, Mr Brian Valentine, admitted that their products "just aren't engineered for security". Well, most people usually believe what Microsoft say, so don't stop now.

I could go on at great length about how we win over Microsoft's offerings, and how we don't mandate technology they you don't necessarily want. I could wax lyrical about how Lotus protect their customers' investments. A Notes 2 application will run under Notes 6 - now ask your Microsoft rep what happens to your current Exchange applications when they release their next-generation product in 2005 (he'll probably tell you that most of their customers don't actually bother building applications on Exchange because the results aren't worth the considerable effort).

It would be an enormous amount of fun for me to sling mud at Microsoft's offerings, but you should make up your own mind. Download the Notes 6 client - you'll not only see that the user interface is a lot more attractive (something which Outlook users seem to care a great deal about - well, let's face it, Outlook doesn't have much else going for it), but you'll also find some great new functionality. In particular, the mobile users will love the new replication features. Industry analysts were always in agreement that Notes outshone Outlook for mobile working - with the additions of streaming and drag 'n' drop replication, we've just got better.

And let us not forget that with Notes and Domino you can build collaborative, line-of-business, team-productivity applications. That's what Outlook / Exchange doesn't give you, and that's the big value-add... even after you consider that Notes / Domino's cost-of-ownership is falling while Exchange's continues to rise. Amazingly, some Exchange customers also deploy Notes and Domino to plug the gaps and provide the collaboration features that are missing from Exchange. Does that make sense when you could get everything with just one solution (and get it better integrated)?

Of course, I'm biased. I've worked for Lotus for 11 years. So don't take my word for it, go look at Notes and Domino 6. There is an alternative to Microsoft - and in a world where Microsoft have the lion's share of the publicity, there is a product that has been keeping them at bay for a number of years. Lotus have to be twice as good to be considered equal. But by design rather than luck, we're better than that.

There goes another Summer (3rd September 2002)

Oh dear... that's it. It's September, so outside of the slim possibility of a late heatwave, yet another British Summer has fizzled out under temperate cloudy skies. Looking on the bright side, as the Autumn nights draw in there's some better astronomy opportunities around the corner, with darker nights and the more interesting planets swinging into view. On the gloomy side, the dear little kiddies start back at school this week, and my journey to work will double in duration.

Anyway, it's been nearly a month since my last update, so let's catch up on what's been going on in the life of a Lotus technical sales manager...

Skip back three weeks - the 12th of August heralded the peak of the Perseids meteor shower. Normally an astronomical event like this would be celebrated by the big Cloud God, who would spread his thick veil of water vapour across the heavens (and thus screwing up any chance of seeing anything remotely interesting). Well not this time buddy - it was one of the clearest nights I've ever seen, and even in light-polluted Camberley there were enough meteors visible to make me say "wow". I spent about an hour in the garden and saw nineteen. And I also saw one last night, just a single isolated rock burning up, and it was a biggy.

August was also the month that we dragged ourselves kicking and screaming into the 21st century. As a family we once rivalled the Flintstones in terms of our home entertainment system, but after our small television retired from active service, we decided to have a reshuffle and purchase a brand spanking new widescreen television. And that's not all - we now own not one but two DVD players (one in the lounge, one in the family room). Add to that a collection of Disney DVDs, and we're sorted for home cinema. My audio / video consultant (otherwise known as Uncle Rob) came round to sort out the speakers... and then I experienced the defining moment. I was watching 'Hercules' (the Disney version) and there's a scene where our hero picks up a large rock and throws it. I heard the rock land in another part of the room. How cool is that? I can't wait for the 'Monsters Inc' DVD to arrive at the weekend... purely for the benefit of my daughter you understand.

Molly - don't be fooled by the docile expression.

Note: if you're considering burgling our house to relieve us of our new consumer goods, I might warn you that Molly, the most fearsome spaniel this side of Bagshot, is fighting-fit after her recent operation. Intrude at your peril. Oh yeah, we've got a burglar alarm as well.

And finally, August also heralded the start of the new football season. Arsenal (the current champions, let's not forget) have started okay-ish with two wins and two draws. ManYoo's Roy Keane (he of the small brain and big temper) lasted three games before being sent off for sticking his elbow down someone's ear, and Arsenal's Patrick Vieira lasted for three-and-a-half games before being undeservedly sent off at Stamford Bridge for two innocuous tackles. Needless to say, the appeals to have the red card rescinded were turned down after referee / shit-head Andy D'Urso (he of the undoubtedly small penis and large inferiority complex) refused to reconsider his ridiculous decisions. Not that I'm biased of course. Early season results can do funny things to the league table, and thus Tottenham Hotspur (Spurs to us Brits) find themselves two points clear at the top (unheard of this side of Hitler's downfall). When my father called me to gloat, I let him have his moment of glory, given that this event occurs less often than most comets come our way. And if Spurs are still ahead of Arsenal by Christmas, I'll pose butt-naked and post the picture here. Now, nobody wants to see that happen, right?

Panic over - the Earth isn't doomed... yet (6th August 2002)

There were a few worried faces a couple of weeks ago, when it was announced that there was a fair possibility that a huge chunk of rock heading our way was due to collide with Earth in the year 2019. I spent a couple of days considering the options... cancelling all pension contributions, and taking out a renewed 30-year low-start mortgage (and having a good chuckle at the expense of the mortgage lender in the process). Visions of a real-life 'Deep Impact' or 'Armageddon' (minus the corny acting) loomed, and discussions of diverting it / exploding it / hiring Bruce Willis started.

However, within a week the boffins had gathered enough information on the orbit of 2002 NT7 (catchy name, although 'Earth-f*cker 2019' would have been more fun) to ascertain that the 2 km-wide piece of rubble wasn't going to hit - at least not this time round. While you wipe the sweat of relief from your brow, bear in mind that future collisions aren't ruled out and also that a lump the size of 2002 NT7 could wipe out one quarter of Earth's population. If it fell in the Atlantic, then that line from the Beach Boys classic would become reality... "If everybody had a surfboard, across the USA"... yep, the residents of Kentucky and Arkansas would get a chance to hang-ten on a big swell. Across the pond, our Dutch friends would discover that their dykes aren't much use after all.

If you've seen 'Armageddon', you may remember Billy Bob Thornton telling some pencil-pusher that the NASA budget allows them to monitor just 4% of the sky, and that "it's a big ol' sky, sir". What's the truth? Well, by 2008, NASA reckon that they'll have detected roughly 90% of asteroids that are 1 km wide or larger. Detected... which is different to 'able to deal with'. Hmmm... and within 10 years they'll have tracked 20% of asteroids which are over 200 metres in diameter. This is the worrying fact, since an impact from a 200 metre object could wipe out a 'small country'. Remember these facts next time you see a social inadequate peering through a telescope - he might discover the rock with our name on it, the one that NASA's budget didn't stretch to.

Right, are you frightened enough yet? No, well let's continue. As if there's some sort of big celestial spirit trying to prove a point (and make you soil your underwear), there's going to be a very near miss with a pretty big hunk of rock this month. The 800 metre-wide 2002 NY40 (another catchy name) will fly past Earth on 17th / 18th August at a distance of just 330,000 miles from us terrified mortals. That's only 1.3 times the average distance of the moon, and you'll be able to see it (weather and conditions permitting) with a small telescope or a good pair of binoculars. Or you could stay indoors hiding under the bed wearing a crash helmet.

And finally, for falling rocky objects of the non-threatening variety, the peak of the annual Perseids meteor shower occurs next week (12th August). Astronomers recommend that you lay in your garden (face up obviously) at 02:00 and look in the direction of the Perseus constellation. British weather forecasters recommend that you stay in bed, because it's bound to be raining.

Back from a holiday in Menorca (26th July 2002)

Looks nice, but try getting three suitcases up those steps when it's 95°.

Yes, that's right... you kept coming back like the faithful reader you are, and there was no new stuff here. You deserve better. It's because myself, the wife and the offspring had jetted off to sunny Menorca for two weeks of leisure at the family villa (well, okay, the wife's parents' villa). Sunny Menorca...? Yes, except for three days of torrential rain. And let me tell you, it's a bit of a shock when the temperature drops from 90° F to 64° F in the space of one day. I only took one spare pair of socks with me, and they were intended to be for the return journey.

Other than the Mediterranean monsoon, the holiday was relatively uneventful. Our spending money was gone after the first week (for the fourth year running), the wife was more tanned after one day than I was after two weeks (par for the course), and the offspring kept us amused with her worldly insights and constant interrogations of all events - the best of which were:

	"Do we need to buy a Christmas tree when we get home?"
	In response to being told that some boys were playing cowboys and inidians... "I was playing beautiful girls who ate their fish-fingers in the restaurant".
	In the middle of a crowded shop after dinner, at the top of her voice "Ooh, Daddy, you've got a very full tummy". Okay, I admit I'm carrying a few extra pounds there.
	Speaking of Quasimodo in Disney's 'Hunchback of Notre Dame' - "He was an ugly baby".
	In a rather tired voice one evening "I'm very tired, but a chocolate nice-cream might cheer me up".

One constant theme of the Menorcan holiday throughout the years is smoking in restaurants. They don't have any no-smoking sections, and inevitably we attract smokers and their revolting emissions like flies to shit... annoying even though we usually eat in the open air. It's the kids I feel sorry for - one night I was repulsed by four adults who constantly puffed away while a little girl no older than my own sat in the middle of them. Jesus, don't they get it? As adults we can get pissed off and move, but as a kid what can you do when you have to sit with parents and family who are subjecting you to their smoke? Words fail me. But words didn't fail the offspring who just lately has noticed smokers and feels duty-bound to comment. And I quote "that lady is smoking - she'll get a cough and die... will she get better after she dies?". Enough said.

We returned to find our domestic security officer (Molly) almost back to full health after her operation - burglars beware. And of course, a pile of junk mail almost big enough to prevent us opening the front door. I was going to catalog the contents for a laugh, but in the end I couldn't be bothered (there was too much). Suffice to say, more than half was leaflets and general unsolicited rubbish, and more than half of the remainder was correctly-addressed in envelopes but still rubbish. There were four leaflets for double-glazing (stone me, look at the bloody house - we have double glazing) and five letters informing I was lucky enough to be eligible for yet another credit card. Hmmm, just what I need. Now, where's that garbage bag?

Cyber junk mail (3rd July 2002)

Oh, is there a new Star Wars movie? (19th May 2002)... update (24th May 2002)

Apparently, yes. And actually I'm a bit miffed because when everyone else at work went to see it last Thursday, I was just leaving Edinburgh airport (and I might add that I got up at 04:25 that day). But please don't get the impression that I'm one of those planks who goes to Star Wars conventions and gets the wife to dress up like Princess Leia to get my kicks... I happen to have enjoyed all the movies so far, but it ends there.

Enjoyed all the Star Wars movies? What, even 'The Phantom Menace'? Yes... this was a source of heated debate at work, and a few jaws hit the floor when I revealed that I thought 'Episode I' was better than the original movie (now known to us as 'Episode IV') and 'Episode VI: Return of the Jedi'. To this treasonous diatribe I added that most people revere 'Episode IV' out of a sense of nostalgia, and that the script and some of the acting was actually pretty lame. To cap it of, I narrowly avoided getting lynched when I finished the dialogue by saying that 'The Matrix' was an overrated pile of doo-doo.

I don't get why everyone didn't think much of 'The Phantom Menace'. Okay, it was never going to win any Oscars for best original screenplay or for the acting, but it was an entertaining movie with great special effects. Some people are just too po-faced and highbrow about movies - going to the cinema ought to be about munching your way through a bucket of popcorn while being entertained by some escapism. It you want to be intellectually challenged, read a book on philosophy. Sure there's been some excellent, high-quality, thought-provoking movies, but it doesn't do you any harm to stick your brain in neutral once in a while.

With all this in mind, the media and people around me are full of analysis on how good 'Episode II: Attack of the Clones' actually is. There's no debating that it will be a commercial success - some of the fiercest critics I know of 'The Phantom Menace' were first in line last week, thus proving that even if they thought the last Star Wars outing was awful, it hasn't tempered their appetite for the saga. As for the media...? Well, who gives a sh*t what they think. Let them get on their proverbial high-horses and if they're not interested in 'Episode III' then they don't have go and watch it.

Personally, I'm looking forward to seeing 'Episode II' next week, and if the trailers are anything to go by it'll worth the trip to Staines' new multiplex. My only disappointment will be that my one desire following 'Episode I' will not come to fruition. Apparently Jar Jar Binks doesn't get disembowelled by a light sabre in the opening five minutes. Oh well, there's always 'Episode III'...

Further update - as planned, myself and few colleagues went to see the aforementioned movie at the new Staines cinema. Absolutely terrible. No, not the movie... that was spectacular, and for me was by far the best of the five Star Wars movies so far (if you disagree, please don't e-mail me - I'm not interested in discussing it). I'm talking about the ice cream and popcorn. The ice cream was... well, let's just say it wasn't Ben & Jerry's. And the popcorn was just plain crap. The seating, however, was the best I've ever known in a cinema - the sort of legroom you get when you pay £3,000 for an airfare, and stacked so that even a tall man with a big hat wouldn't obscure your view.

And the movie...? Absolutely first-rate. Great special effects, good plot, very exciting. Okay, some of the dialog was a bit iffy at times, but so what...? It wasn't an adaptation of a Chekov play, was it? And some of the acting wasn't always up to scratch... for example, young Hayden Christensen who played Darth Vader-to-be Anakin Skywalker - I wouldn't say he was wooden, but at one point I thought someone had pushed some teak patio furniture on set.

Let's all laugh at ManYoo - part two (11th May 2002)

And so the curtain closes on the 2001 / 2002 Premiership season, and any females who visit this site and read this crap can do so in the next couple of months safe in the knowledge that there'll be no more talk about football for a while. Oh, hang on, the World Cup starts in June.

Anyway, let's get this season finished. Arsenal as we all know did the double, nabbing the title from right under the noses of the 2000 / 2001 champions (the name of that team escapes me for the moment, such is their irrelevance). It's difficult for me to believe now that a week ago I was worrying about the consequences of a defeat at the 'Theatre of Dreams' (why do they call it that?) and the prospect of a very nervy last day where a win would be required. In the end, it couldn't have been further from those concerns - Arsenal finished a full ten points ahead of Hertfordshire's most supported club, capping their season with a not-altogether impressive win over Everton. ManYoo meanwhile ended up 3rd, their lowest position for at least ten years, which - childishly - I find most satisfying.

Had things turned out differently last Wednesday, I think it's safe to say that the Arsenal line-up would have looked a little different today. Take the two central defenders for example... Oleg and Igor are surely names suitable for two potato farmers who live 400 miles east of Poland, not for two men responsible for ensuring that the Premiership Champions finish the season with thirteen straight wins. An interesting point to note is that Igor Stepanovs didn't play enough games during the season to qualify for a medal (ten is the required number). And judging by his performance today, that's probably just as well. If Igor had assumed defending duties in ten or more games this season, it wouldn't have been just him going without a medal.

But despite Igor's over-generous contributions to the visitors, Arsenal did manage to field enough players with reasons to want to win the game - it was Lee Dixon's last game (he was captain for the day) and obviously wanted to end with a win. Sylvain Wiltord just looked like he wanted to enjoy it, and Thierry Henry had a chance of taking the Golden Boot for the most Premiership goals (and he did - his two goals took him to twenty-four for the season, and ManYoo's Ruud van Naselspray continued his recent run of winning sod-all). And finally, enter jug-earred Francis Jeffers - himself not eligible for a medal - who came on as a substitute to finish an injury-plagued season with a goal against his old club. That turned out to be the winning goal, as Igor and Oleg continued to provide the Everton players with an open invite into the Arsenal penalty area. While the supporters and media continue to ponder the questions of 'will Patrick Vieira leave' and 'will Tony Adams retire', there's one thing you can be sure of... this East-European double-act won't be providing the comedy moments at Highbury next season. Well, okay, Oleg can stay to cover times of injury disaster, but Igor should set his sights on a club with lower expectations - Spurs for example. Or go back to potato farming.

And ManYoo...? With Liverpool beating Ipswich 5-0, ManYoo were never going to be on course for 2nd place. But they didn't even get near, as they were held 0-0 by Charlton at home. Is this the start of their slide down the table? Of course not - watch them spend £50 million during the Summer to bring expensive talent to Old Trafford. It pains me to say, they'll be back... and the good people of Tunbridge Wells will have something to sing about again.

Let's all laugh at ManYoo - part one (8th May 2002)

I aged 10 years tonight, but it was worth it. Seeing Man Utd lose is always sweet. Seeing Arsenal beat Man Utd is the stuff that dreams are made of. Seeing Arsenal beat Man Utd at Old Trafford to take the Premiership is beyond description. All this four days after lifting the F A Cup.

Arsenal's season has been incredible, especially in the final quarter - tonight's game completed 12 Premiership wins in succession. They scored in every single Premiership game and didn't lose a single away game. All the more incredible when you consider their injury problems throughout the season.

I guess I must apologise to a certain Mr Sylvain Wiltord. Earlier this season I branded him only fit for the Worthington Cup. How wrong I was. Tonight was the culmination of a fantastic run of form, with him scoring the winning (and only) goal. This is a man who has been maligned by Arsenal supporters, and who for many matches had to play as a winger rather than his favoured central striking role. Yet tonight he summed up the team's passion and persistence. Myself and some other Gooners will gratefully accept a big slice of humble pie and eat our words.

And what of Hampshire' favourite team, Man Utd? I laughed as I saw some of their fans leave the 'Theatre of Dreams' before the end of the game, presumably to start the long journey back to Guildford. They spent over £44 million last Summer on some llama-shagging Emporer Ming lookalike and a long-faced Dutch goon who spends most of his time falling over unaided in the opposition's penalty area. And what was the return on their investment? Ha ha... bugger all. Okay, they'll be in the Champions League, but if all goes well Liverpool will beat them to second place.

As the chant goes at Highbury... "Ooooh to be a, oooh to be a - Gooner".

A new hard line on molluscs (1st May 2002)

It's that time of year already. My annual war against molluscs has started. Harry's hutch has already been invaded by the pesky critters, and I've decided that zero tolerance is the only answer this year. This is the type of treatment that the various type of unwelcome invertebrates can expect in our garden this Summer:

	Slugs - no messing about, they will ejected from the hutch and squashed underfoot. Any caught lurking on the grass will be placed in a plastic bag and then squashed. If they're discovered on the front lawn, they'll be kicked into the road so I can watch cars run over them.
	Snails - perhaps I'm getting a bit soft, but I can never bring myself to step on snails. It's probably the thought of the sound of their shells cracking. However, they will not escape justice, as they will be hurled over the fence into the road behind (not into our neighbours' garden, oh no).
	Octopuses (octopi?) - yes, they are molluscs. You wouldn't have thought they were related to slugs and snails, would you? Now, you're probably thinking "this is getting a bit silly now". And you'd be right. I've never caught one single octopus in Harry's hutch. Of course not... all the octopi congregate in the water-logged area up near the patio.
	Squid and cuttlefish - now this is getting silly.

Ironically, I've got a new favourite game for my Pocket PC... it's called 'Snails' (it's a variation on 'Worms'). It's great fun, because you get to knock off your opponent's snails with various exotic weapons. Check it out at the Snails web site. This is one game that's really worth the money, and by Pocket PC standards it's pretty cheap at $11.95 (that's about £8.50 for us Brits at the present exchange rate).

One final thought, if real life was like a game of Snails, I wouldn't waste the Napalm Gel on my little slimey enemies - I'd save it for the cat who keeps digging a hole in our front garden for a crap.