Thoughts for the Hamster

Many of you will already be aware that Top Gear presenter Ricard Hammond is in a serious condition in hospital following a very high-speed crash. Slightly less known is that a charity donation page has been set up for the Yorkshire Air Ambulance who airlifted him to hospital.

The news article mentions it right at the end, though the link to it’s not clear so I’m repeating it here. It’s on and I’ve used this site before. UK tax payers can even ensure the charity gets an extra 28% of your donation using the Gift Aid system at no extra cost to yourself. At the time of writing, the BBC article reckoned they’re raised £4000. I just checked and it’s almost £24,000. Fantastic.

Get well soon, Hamster.

Dib dib dib

My cousin in Brisbane told me this story and it’s about a friend of her’s from back home in Scotland. Names changed to protect the fact that I can’t remember them.

This lady, let’s call her Fiona, is a single mum who’s son… erm… Andrew, is seven. One weekend, Andrew is taken on a cub scout trip, leaving Fiona on her own for the first weekend in as long as she can remember.

Heading home from dropping him off with the troup, she finds a random bloke outside her flat trying desparately to get his mobile to work so he can call a taxi. No joy, sadly. Fiona, though, is a good samaritan and shows him inside to use her telephone.

The next day he leaves. *ahem*

Fiona tells one of her friends the story and the friend asks her if she’s got the guy’s number. “I think so, but I can’t remember his name!”

So she sets to flicking through her mobile until she spots a name and number she doesn’t recognise. “Colin… yes, that sounds familiar.” She taps out a text detailing exactly how much she enjoyed the weekend and what she’d like to do the next time.

A few minutes later, the phone rings and a man says “Who is this?”

“It’s Fiona. I can’t believe you’ve forgotten me already after all the fun we had.”

“Fiona? This is Colin Matthews… your son’s cub scout leader?”

From that day on, once the story leaked, every time she calls my cousin and her husband answers he greets Fiona with a “Dib dib dib!”

Not good

Sorry for the lack of posts recently and there won’t be many for a while yet. I’m still in Auckland and the bad news is that Lou and I have parted ways. As a result, I’m completely heartbroken and I’m really not up to blogging. Or much else, to be honest. I hope the two of us can remain friends, but right now all I can think about is what I’ve lost and I don’t even know why it’s happened.

I fly to Brisbane on Friday morning, then on to Melbourne after that. I haven’t planned on my next destination but I’ll need to sort something out fairly soon. I’m awaiting a call back from the Oz Consulate to let me know if I can fly in without an onward ticket as I’ll have the funds from my house sale in my bank account.

Right now I should be happy as Larry with a bulging bank account and the world at my fingertips. Instead I can only think of what I’ve lost and what will no longer be. Sorry for being so down in public, but friends will know that I’m a very open person and I needed to let you all know.

Another win

I got some emails from some old work colleages recently saying that Acer had been in touch trying to locate the TFT screen they mis-delivered to the wrong address.

It also seems the couldn’t find it. According to an email from my dad, “Looks like you are now the proud owner of a brand new Acer 17″ monitor, complete with cables, power supply, etc.”

Score another one for the pissed-off punter. And add another item to your list of things to do if the company you’re dealing with try to fuck you over: write to the Managing Director.

‘It’s Murder, Not Hunting’

The headline of this article says it all. Rich cowards from the west are heading to Russia and paying £1500 a pop to head into the woods. During their trip, a dog is sent into a cave to wake a hibernating bear. The weak, defenceless ursine staggers from its rest and is shot from a distance of 300m with a high-powered rifle. As a result, many cubs are orphaned which vastly reduced their chances of reaching adulthood.

So here’s a deal. Know anyone who’s planning on going on one of these trips? Let me know. For £1500 I’ll head round to their house, break in while they’re asleep, shove them out of bed and cave their fucking skull in with a baseball bat from a distance of three feet.

Now that’s a sport as they’ve almost got a fair chance.

Oh, and I’ll take £1500-worth of valuables from their house and donate it to the WWF. I ain’t in this for the money.