Match of Hope

Dear Diary,

I note with great displeasure that every one of your pages contains information about me. What, are you stalking me? Stop following me, or I will have to invoke legal action. You have been warned.

Speaking of warned, I was watching a rather boring exhibition match of football, otherwise known as soccer to least cultured, held in Barcelona to raise funds for the tsunami. It featured some of football's more prominent has beens, including David Beckham who, I swear, only touched the football once, and even then it was more of a dodgy priest/Michael Jackson kind of touch than, say, a touch of brilliance. I only mention it, as the company I was with at the time wondered whether he was sending an SMS to Shane Warne, to which I mentioned that the message was probably not an SMS, but a texticle. We determined that a texticle is shorter than a full blown SMS and invariably is of lewd content. Despite that, all correspondence between us since has been referred to as a texticle. What do I have to do to make this word common parlance? I personally think a texticle is much nicer than a text, txt, sms or whatnot.

If I were Orange, and by that I mean the telecommunications company Orange, not "if I were the colour orange", I would hire Lance Armstrong to advertise the new, cool, totally chic new way of communicating with your friends via "Orange Texticles". He could say "When I won the Tour de France for the seventh time, I sent a texticle to Shane Warne so he could send texticles to the world. Send your Orange Texticle today."

France

I wasn't going to write anything on this damned, DAMNED, blog while vacationing in the mother land, France, which is where I am, in case that wasn't clear, but I will anyway. France just nicked their 6 nations match against England, otherwise known as the old foes, for headline reasons no doubt. I tip Ireland will take the 6 nations. France looks out of sorts and England are crap.

Some spam for you:

Subject: Do you covet to sense satisfactory next morning ? (Ed: damn straight. Every morning)

A modern survey displays that it needs an average of just 2.3 drinks to induce a hang-over. But this tablets supports you avoid katzenjammers and awaken sensitive splendid from head to stomach and everywhere else.

I, for one, am sick of katzenjammers. They are all jammy and katzenish. Splendid. Oh, and don't bother asking me for the link to buying this magic substance, I have bought their entire stock.

So, from the mother-land (as in: the land of my mother, she is French you know), a bientôt.