So I've been away a little while and you need an update:

We got married on August 4th at Marylebone Registry Office.

Evelyn was born, somewhat traumatically for her parents on November 3rd at 12:33 am.

Life has changed quite a bit. Laura who normally needs 14 hours sleep (every 12 hours) is finding our new schedule somewhat tiring as am I. Evelyn is fine, happy, alert, gaining weight and developing some truly devastating defecatory ballistics.

I apologise for not updating this recently and I won't waste your time with excuses, but I would like to wish you a warm and happy Christmas from the three of us.

If you haven't seen Sofia Coppola's movie about the life of Marie Antoinette, don't. It is two hours of unadulterated directorial ego masturbation. I think Sofia was lent a copy of the excellent, tongue in cheek Plunkett and Macleane and thought she'd do a big budget chick flick version. Which might have worked, but she hasn't the talent. Self indulgent hints to her own over-inflated self opinion include a pair of basketball shoes in shot with the rest of Marie Antoinette's footwear. Every segway is an excuse to spin up another 80s rock or pop anthem. Sorry but it doesn't work, the only people that will like this rubbish are girls and homosexuals, and then most probably only for the costume and set design.

Laura is watching the end of the movie as I write this blog. I am now going to commit my words to the ether and settle down with the historically far more accurate Talladega Nights, The Ballad of Ricky Bobby.

Hot Fuzz

Laura and I saw Hot Fuzz tonight, it starts a little slow, but there are some serious belly laughs once it gets moving. If you have nothing better to do, or are in a bad mood, go see it, you won't be afterwards. Not as good as Shaun of the Dead but a cracker all the same.

For reasons as yet unexplained, Laura came home with a bottle of this stuff. L's body temperature is a mystery; on getting into bed tired and wanting to sleep, she is sub zero, the moment she falls asleep the furnace goes on and her skin temperature rises to the point that the hairs on my arms spontaneously combust and I have to throw the duvet off lest it catch fire. On waking she is back to complaining about how horribly cold it is and refuses to get out of bed until the central heating thermostat is set to barbecue.



Anyway to see what this stuff is like she put a little bit on her finger and blew, it got hot. I think she plans to wait until I am at work, cover herself head to foot in it and stand in front of a fan.

My boxers
While in Costa Rica I purchased some boxer shorts, no surprise there. I don't dress commando every day. Easy ladies! They were not expensive, in fact they were from Automercado, but I love them. In common with probably everyone occasionally I buy an item of clothing and love it so much that I know that if I can't get an identical replacement I will be distraught. The first time this happened to me it was a pair of Gaerne enduro motorcycle boots that ended up saving my ankles when I had a car interface, they still make motorcycle boots but not a pair like the ones I love. Latterly I have learned the lesson, in Canada I discovered a pair of walking shoes, trainers or whatever they were that were goretex lined and so comfortable that I could wear them all day and then at the gym after work, marvelous, after I had them a week I went and bought another pair, but now one pair are on the way out and the other pair although still in Canada and bound to arrive before the first give up the ghost will be the last, the manufacturer doesn't make them any more. Damn if I hadn't bought six pairs or maybe twelve. But back to my boxers.... I liked these so much I did actually buy twelve pairs or maybe more. What is cool about them is that they have an inside pocket attached to the elasticated hem.

Those of you that have spent time in Latin America will know that a $20 bill will get you a very long way in a taxi and a $100 bill will get you nowhere as no-one has change for such a large denomination and those that do, think that all $100s are counterfeit and will have nothing to do with them. The other week I found a $20 poking out from under the insole of some shoes, you can tell I've spent some time in dubious places. The shoe trick wouldn't have helped my pal Joe in Cuba as he managed to get his trainers stolen there, which is a serious crime. In Cuba a national can get 5 years for giving a tourist a nasty look. But as far as I know, one's underpants and especially Joe's are generally safe from intrusion. These would even have saved him in Colombia when he was kidnapped and taken for a gunpoint tour of local cashpoint machines. That extra $20 wouldn't have stopped it but it would at least have enabled him to spend the rest of the night boozing away his sorrows. He couldn't have got a taxi with it, getting a taxi solo in Colombia is exactly how he came to be kidnapped in the first place.

Anyway I like to think of these boxers as my adventure underpants and worried as I am about them wearing out and never being able to buy another pair, I keep them for special occasions and adventure. So now I have the other problem.....

I have loads of boxers but don't want to wear any in case they wear out, I guess I'd better go commando.

New Sock Day!

Like anyone that works in an office I have an assortment of dark coloured socks that are missing a partner. There is the morning ritual of seeking a whole pair from those recently dried. Even when there are two that match in design, pattern and material, one appears to have faded more than the other, although quite how this happens I am not sure.

Every year or so I go on a sock buying binge to banish this hoserial curse. This year it was different, I did it by e-bay. I ordered twelve pairs each of two different kinds (just to be safe you understand). The first consignment arrived this morning and after test driving a pair all the old office-work-formal socks were binned. Hot sock tip: Either buy a lot of pairs of exactly the same socks, or pairs of socks that are so different that you can match them up in a dark room, in a darker mood, with a hangover, a cold sweat and only five minutes to get out the door. It saves frustration, workday embarrassment or both. Anyway, you are probably asking yourself why I am sock rich......

I start the new job on Monday which after six months off is much needed mentally and financially. Although we have had to pack up a few places and move about quite a bit since my previous employer shut. They still owe me a considerable amount of money, which is a pity as I think I'll have to sell my motorcycles and possibly my place in Gibraltar to finance the wedding and our condo in Toronto.

We bought a car yesterday so Laura will be fully mobile while I am at work and able to spend her time fruitfully traipsing the aisles of England's feminine footwear vendors' emporia and other such noble pastimes.

For those wondering: The shin befronting the muscular calf in the right foreground is my own. Ladies should use caution when viewing this photo as I am no longer available merchandise.

About ten days ago I flew back to the UK. It was proving impossible to find a decent job in Spain given the political climate in the US that is impacting on the business sector I have worked in for the last five years. I have reluctantly left Laura with my friend Ken but she'll be flying here soon. I have had a few interviews and am waiting to hear if there are any positive results. I'm not really keen on anything I've found yet, but I've never really looked at work as something to enjoy, it's just what you've got to do to enable life.

I am very grateful to my friends who have really pulled for me recently, Ken, Dave and Amanda are all helping. It's hard not to feel a little dispondant, but I know something will turn up soon.

I'm looking forward to getting back on a motorcycle after a year out of the saddle and looking forward to seeing my wonderful soon-to-be-wife at the airport later in the week.

Laura was running a mop around the bathroom the other day. She moved the laundry bin and behind it was a little Gecko. He, a presumption as I am not able to determine Gecko genders, was so scared he dropped his little tail and scampered off to hide, leaving his now detached tail wiggling on the floor. A little while later, Laura caught him and released him in the living room. I could not get a rational explanation for his release in the living room rather than outside, but she has a thing about creatures, desiring to touch, hold and make friends with anything that isn't a spider. Personally I think that with the sole exception of cats, any creature inside the house should be hot, dead and covered in gravy.

Unless something somewhere warm turns up soon, I think that we may have to return to the UK, where I shall prostitute my brain for the filthy lucre in IT contracting. Which to be honest, money apart depresses me enormously.

So apologies for my prosaic hiatus. The company I worked for in Costa Rica that kept me in Canada shut down. So I packed up my apartment in Toronto and moved all my stuff into Laura's parents house, tripped down to San Jose, Costa Rica said goodbye to some friends and packed packed my chattels into four suitcases, flew back to Toronto and helped Laura pack up her apartment. The available ground floor space in Laura's parents house has been reduced by 50% and their lounge reduced to an assault course of our bags and boxes. We left three apartments in the space of three weeks and flew to the UK to say hello to the family and then on to Spain where my friend Ken has very kindly put us up while I look for my next job.



Ken is working on Laura's health issues and has her taking Vitamin C every eight hours, CoQ10, Evening Primrose Oil, ginseng and Silibinin. The current train of thought is that the root cause to Laura's vast array of medical issues is liver malfunction. Although what caused this is unknown. These supplements seem to improved Laura's thyroid function. When Laura and I first met she used to get heart palpitations and shake when she was tired, which I recognised as a calcium deficiency due to her diet. When we applied the SCD diet and and started her on increased Vitamin C and Calcium amongst a general vitamin and mineral regime. This sorted out her heart palpitations, shakes and showed some improvement in intestinal problems. Her thyroid seemed to improve a little and her Doctor suggested a decrease in her thyroid supplement from 180mg per day to 120mg. This left her tired and listless but she was OK on 150mg. After being on the Ken regime for two weeks Laura has been able to reduce her thyroid supplement to 60mg per day, with no ill effects so there are some definite improvements. We hold out hope for a complete cure.

Anyway, we are in sunny Spain and taking day trips out to various places of interest. We recently visited a Moroccan festival at a town in the hills near Monda. The street lights were all turned off and the town was lit by candles every few inches along the sides of the road and lining the balconies. The town squares were filled with stalls selling all sorts and there was a magical air about the who affair.

We have tripped out to see Seville, Ronda, Gibraltar, Castellar de la Frontera and other nearby sights. I had a couple of interviews last week, but no news yet and I am still being courted by a start-up in Canada that still don't have the money to run the project. So we'll hang out here a little longer. If nothing has turned up in Spain by the end of October, I'll renounce gaming and go back to IT contracting for financial services companies in London. The gaming world pays well enough to keep us in a warm country with a low cost of living. But if we go back to the UK then I'll go back to the far more lucrative world of banking.

A while ago I received this handy good wife guide. It was in the hands of an angry female colleague shocked at the subservient domestic home goddess approach displayed therein. I started reading it and became not a little impressed with the sound advice offered by the author. Then I noticed that it is dated 1955. I hope attitudes haven't changed since then. I must show it to Laura and pin it up on a wall in a prominent place or something, after all, we will be getting married and I hope she gets it tight. Click here or on the image to see the full version.

Something that Laura will definitely not be allowed to see is this. It is a sad and shocking indictment of Christian womanhood and perfectly explains the demise of religion in the West. Well it does if it's true.

I have left Costa Rica for the last time, for a long time. Someone new will soon be enjoying the views over Santa Ana from what was my terrace. It was sad to leave, somehow I feel cheated, I never had the time to get that motorcycle and explore the mountains as I had wanted. I left some things at the apartment, the landlady said goodbye to me and gave me a painting from the apartment that I had always liked.

I got to the airport and the problems started, a change in dates meant a charge had been added to the already enormous excess baggage fee and this needed to be paid in cash as my credit card doesn't seem to work at San Jose airport, even though it works everywhere else. This was sorted out by Pauline, the formidable yet diminutive New Yorker that arranges all my travel. She is phenomenally cool at fixing flights and someone that should you work in the industry, you should treat with the greatest respect. It took two hours to sort this out and in compensation they upgraded me to Business Class. The company I worked for always flew me cattle class, the Directors however were unable to lower themselves for this economy and most of them were unaware that there was anyone sat behind the curtains on the plane. Due to the recent terrorist scare in London, security had been tightened to the point that the queue stretched out of the airport. On arrival at Toronto Pearson airport at the centre and unconnected terminal, I positioned myself on the bus to terminal one so that I would be at the front of the queue at immigration control. I wasn't. I had landed just after two Jumbo jets full of visiting school children from China and Singapore. Everyone of whom was sent through to the interview room to have a chat with another one of the semi-evolved chimps of the Canada Border Services Agency as I was. Most of them were in front of me in the queue and I had to wait an hour to repeat the same thing to another one of these mentally subnormal cretins, that unable to get a real job, decided to work for the gorvernment. I couldn't phone Laura, who was waiting for me as they block cellphones in that room. The CBSA guy did, he asked if she knew me and what I did for a living and other questions that would safeguard the country of Canada from IT Project Managers and other people that know what they are doing. Eventually he stamped my passport for 6 months as they always do and I went through and answered the same question set with another group of these sphincter probers at customs. Two and a half hours after landing, I finally emerged from the arrivals doors to be greeted by Laura. She was looking phenomenal, elegant and refined in a black dress and some rather naughty shoes she had bought before I'd left for Costa Rica the previous week.

Between the two of us, we have moved out of three apartments in the last three weeks. Tomorrow, we leave for the UK and by the end of next week we'll be in Spain where we shall enjoy the last rays of summer while awaiting the next job. Which could be anywhere.

For those of you that found the timing of my last two posts confusing, I am actually in Costa Rica as we speak (or more correctly, as I write). I woke up this morning with agonizing pain in my right leg and serendipitously happened on a couple of intellectual blogs of note from opposite sides of the political spectrum while researching a new hobby of my father's; Tug Boat Potemkin which lead me to Catalaxy . Both the authors appear to be in Australia. While surfing the links therein I came across something unusual. People that work in IT (Information Technology for Mac users and other technologically challenged folk) have long had a bit of an image problem and to counter this the wiley Ozzies have released a hot babes in IT calendar. I fear that this will have done little to reform the nerdyboy geek image of the trade if this crew of snarling sheep farmers' daughters are the pinup ladies of the profession.

This got me thinking about other vocation specific calendars featuring the people that do the job. The hose fondling British Firefighters, beloved of a distant ex-girlfriend, UK housewives and gay men the world over. I mean it's not as if fireman are short of shags regardless of their gender preferences. But it is in a good cause I suppose. Obviously, the excellent Rylstone and District WI calendar which featured in the Calendar Girls film comes readily to mind. This has raised a substantial sum for leukemia research. I am in fact so inspired by the success of this charitable venture that I think I will make a calendar of my own this year in order to raise money for London Pride, which is a fabulous beer.

1) Any offense given to Mac users was purely intentional for an explanation of just a few of the reasons why Macs are crap go here.

2) Not all firemen are gay, not all Yorkshire women are willing to get their kit off for a camera, buy the calendars (except the butch Ozzie IT girls one of course).