Anyone that has been to our house in the past week or two will have met Jeremy – especially at the party last night where he was far from a sociable chap though seems to have gone down very well. It is with a heavy heart, then, that I announce the unfortunate demise of Jeremy as he sits, dismembered, in our hallway.

For those of you that don’t know what in blazes I’m talking about, allow me to recount the entire story. Around two weeks ago, a prank was hatched very much off the cuff. John decided to hide a large box in Scott’s room (both and, incidentally, probably all of the names mentioned herein are housemates) and did so by disguising it as a man (In Scott’s clothes) and propping him up in his dirty laundry hamper. This feat was soon exaggerated as Scott’s clothes were stuffed with a towel and attached to one another to form Jeremy. The clinching factor? Jeremy’s ‘face’ is a mask of the Joker from the dark knight film.

Jeremy was then placed in various places around the house, much to the terror of everyone. He might be waiting in a shadowed room, or outside your door. Likewise, he could be sat on the toilet or hanging from the stairs. One never really knew where or when Jeremy would next strike, though it was decided to bring Jeremy out for the premature Hallowe’en [Microsoft word tells me that this is an incorrect spelling, but I know better] party and allow him to meet more people.

Over the course of the evening, then, Jeremy was sat next to, around and on and gradually assumed a more unorthodox shape. He currently exists as two halves of an effigy littered about our hall. How the mighty have fallen or, in this case, been dismembered.

Gaz out.

Of the four, my personal favourite was the Cider and Pernod, though this may have been in contrast to the unequivocal foulness of the preceding drink. Alas, after the last drink I managed to negotiate my way into the waiting taxi where I quickly decided that I didn’t like to have my eyes open whilst it was moving. As a result of my sitting there with eyes closed and enough alcohol in my system to allow me to piss a reasonably fortified cocktail I quickly fell to sleep.

Upon being nudged into life again back in Manchester I struggled to stand, opting for the classic 45 degree slant rather than the proven much more successful vertical position and was promptly ushered into the house where I made a beeline (if anyone’s actually observed a bee fly then the use here is far more accurate than is implied in standard handling of the phrase) for the front room. The first chair I attempted to sit on pulled itself out from underneath me and so I decided to go for a different chair, reassuring the cabinet facing me insistently that no one saw me. After the second chair joined the same league as the first, I decided to sit on the floor for a while lest my continued spinning and falling inspire me to reproduce one of Jackson Pollock’s great works on the living room floor.

I’m fairly sure the moral of this story is self-evidential, though it remains to be seen whether it will actually make the slightest difference to anyone, anywhere or ever. Alas, I’ve declared myself teetotal for a few hours in order to recover though I’m unsure how successful I’ll be. All’s fair in love, war and binge drinking, I guess.

Gaz out.

I should really get better at remembering to do this - considering not only the amount of time that I've been Lenten blogging (three weeks now?) but also the several years' practice I've had at churning out lacklustre ramblings about n'importe quoi. Anyway, I was out tonight when, surprise surprise, I suddenly recalled that I hadn't blogged yet today. A few frantic texts later and someone was ready to stand in for me - though I managed to get home before the 12am limit and thus had time to churn out one of my own - and thus the stand-in stood down, much to my dismay, as what was written was of a very good quality and certainly fitting to such a high-class institution as Gaz's Blog. I shall pander him about it later, though, rest assured.

On such a slow news day as today, then, what better things can one do but focus on the wackier and possible even sordid news stories floating about on the net? (Well, I can think of several things that are each in themselves significantly more fun than browsing google news - especially in Dutch and French in an attempt to find the weirdest stories - though I doubt many of them are suitable to mention here, even if it is past the watershed.) As weird stories go, though, this one takes the biscuit;

"TOKYO (Reuters) - A Japanese man was arrested for trespassing this week after turning up at a high school dressed in a girl's uniform and a long wig, local police said.

Thirty-nine-year-old Tetsunori Nanpei told police he had bought the uniform over the Internet and put it on to take a stroll near the school in Saitama, north of Tokyo, on Wednesday, the daily Asahi Shimbun said.

When students standing outside the gates started to scream at the sight of him, he dashed inside the school grounds, hoping to blend in with the crowds of teenagers, the paper said.

They also screamed, forcing the man to flee, losing his wig in the process. A school clerk pursued him and stopped him at a nearby riverbank, the paper said."

Now, would I be entirely out of order in asking 'what in the name of everything that is even in the remotest bit holy is going on there'? Apparently no further details are being released. I appreciate that this could be construed as a very serious problem - paedophilia and all - but the whole thing is laughable to the extent that its something people in cartoons might try to pull off.

Other 'news' stories that are worth a chuckle include publishing oddities and stuff we really didn't need to know about George Bush.

Gaz out.

I was going to go and look for a worthwhile quote concerning Germany when I realised John Cleese's classic from the German episode of Fawlty Towers and figured there was a little else that could and would succeed that as the most fitting quote for this blog on; well, if you haven't guessed it by now I doubt you ever will; Germans.

A little background on the inspiration of the topic first - it was suggested by Jack, whom I met in Lanzarote this summer. He and his friends ran into a little trouble concerning three German holiday makers - each of whom (all three of them) pulled a German, all from the same group. They arranged to meet them for food the night after and never did so, frightened by their stalking capabilities (Germans, it would appear, are excellent trackers) - and all was peachy until myself and aforementioned three Brits descended on the town only to find them again and spend the following four days trying to escape them.

Irrelevant story I realise, though I thought it might be nice to have a little trip down memory lane. So, Germans. Short of falling into the usual stereotype trap of Germans, I shall instead quote from The Onion's atlas of the world; (It's probably also worth noting that my favourite German song, Spieluhr by Rammstein, just came on by complete chance.)

"Genocide-free since April 11, 1946"

The rest of the two-page spread on Germany follows in much the same suit. If were perfectly honest, I doubt Germans will ever be allowed to forget (or at least never stop being reminded by the pesky allies that happened to win the second world war) that they once hoisted some gimpy Austrian with a dodgy moustache and monorchidism to a position of supreme power and then let him do what he wished on the continent. I don't think it's harsh that we do so; each country has its particular historical stereotype that it shall forever hold [at least in my mind]. In the same way that I shall always look upon France as a bunch of cheese-eating surrender monkeys after the past millennium and Argentina as a bunch of stuck-up meddlers after the events of the 1980s, Germany has acquired its own cultural stigma in the form of the Nazis. In fairness, it was quite late for it to develop - Most of Western Europe had developed ideas hundreds (thousands) of years beforehand - starting maybe with the Ancient Greeks and Romans, or, before that ever, the Celts [Irish]. I know it's quite a harsh idea to keep attached to a country, but that's just the way the cookie crumbles, I guess - they'll have this one until they do something worse (and, in which case, they'll complain 'Vhy can't ve go back to ze gut old dayz of ze Nazi jokes, hrm?').

Anyway, I fear I'm exhausting an already rather chronically-fatigued topic, and so on that note I shall desist. A point of interest, though - it's exactly six months until my birthday I just realised by choosing the date of posting for this article. Best get saving, yeah?

Gaz out.

Yes, you heard right. Thanks to some extensive number crunching on the part of myself, I managed to work out that today, the 11th February 2008 marks the 100,000,000th second of operation for Gaz's Blog. I'm not quite sure when in the day such a momentous second falls, though one can be sure that, by 11:59:59 tonight, Gaz's Blog will have been operational for between exactly one hundred million and 100,086,399 seconds, given the amount of possible seconds the time in question can fall upon.

I know, I know, I've been promising to do a blog on Solipsism for some time now, though I figure this was far more pressing, and wouldn't have the same stupendous awesomeness as if it were to be talked about in a couple of days' time. Such a precedent established, I think I might gloat a little while longer - hell, you'll have blinked approximately 250 million times since I first started the Blog, so surely you can spare a couple more?

I'd also like to take this opportunity to thank everyone - absolutely everyone - who has ever contributed to the blog: be it by writing an article, finding out an obscure fact that forms the basis of a post, giving me inspiration, leaving a comment, supporting it financially (thank you Ste), quoting it in general conversation (it does happen), taking the views onboard or just sitting there and reading it; be it for the full length of its operation or just in the past few weeks, or even days. A great big thank you to all of you. Christ, at the very least, I wouldn't have achieved the 60,000 hits that I have done without all of you, so I can be thankful for that at least, I guess.

By my reckoning, it's going to be 2011 before I hit 200,000,000 seconds, which will be the next major milestone, I feel. That gives me plenty of time to get another few hundred blogs out there on topics not yet covered (there mustn't be that many left now, surely?) and to amass another couple of ten thousand views. On this track, we'll have passed 100k views by then and my my - won't that be a day to remember?

Anyway - Tomorrow: Solipsism. (Sorry for the wait, Francisco.)

Gaz out.

It’s been three years since Serge Vohor, former Vanuatu prime minister, was forced from office following a vote of no confidence as, indeed, it has been three years since doctors in Austria confirmed Viktor Yushchenko’s poisoning was due to dioxin poisoning and Bernard Kerik withdrew his nomination for homeland secretary.

So what?

It’s also three years to the day that Gaz’s Blog™ was created. On this day, a most monumental of days, I recounted the events of a days shopping in town and something of a phenomenon was born. So, 1,095 days, roughly 500 entries and 58,600 views across the whole world later we arrive at our present point. I can’t help but thank every single person who has even viewed, commented, contributed to, recommended, linked to, criticised, appeared in, been ridiculed in and provided inspiration for the blogs during their long and so far adventurous lifetime. Thanks.

The more observant of you will also notice that this was meant to be posted yesterday (the 11th), however I managed to forget, and was away from the laptop for the rest of the day, with now being the soonest I’ve been reunited with the story with a view to posting it. Luckily, a friend of mine (Martin, by name) stepped in and sent me a very good and very insightful blog into law and order (or the lack thereof, as the case may be) and made sure that the third birthday didn’t pass unblogged. Cheers, Martin.

The good news is that the good news is still spreading. New people flock to the Blog™ every day; every new entry is posted onto facebook by an RSS feed as well as shameless plugs with practically everyone I meet. People continue to give me inspiration (as well as reasons to fear the sanity of humanity as a race) and, so long as that continues, so shall the Blog™.

What, then, do we have to look forward to? Well, besides lots of blogging genius and more focusing on the little things of life that are blown horrendously out of proportion; lots more. As we move into the fifth year of operation (2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008) I’m sure we can expect lots of themed blogs, perhaps even with a few videos thrown in for good measure.

And now for the numerically minded I shall shamelessly multiply the time that Gaz’s Blog™ has been in operation, just for shits and giggles:

3 years
36 months
156 weeks
1,095 days
26,280 hours
1,567,800 minutes
94,608,000 seconds (Yes, Gaz’s Blog™ will celebrate it’s 100,000,000th second of operation on February 11th, 2008!)

Impressive stuff, no? No? Screw you then.

Gaz out.

So – I go away to North America for a week, endure the torturous, screaming-kid-behind-you, unnecessary-rules-and-regulations, full-body-grope, stale-air-smelling twenty four hour journey back to the good old green and pleasant land to find that suddenly we’re in the middle of summer. Flip flops and shorts abound, people sit outside drinking everything from water to “what-the-hell?” and the temperature has only just poked its over-cautious nose over the 15 degree mark. Madness, true madness, I tell you. That said, it’s quite nice to come back from the frozen wastelands of Saskatchewan to some leaves on the trees and being able to see the floor and feel your fingers.

One thing did occur to me on the flight(s) back over, though. You know the whole palaver about seatbelts? (That they need to be fastened during take-off, landing and turbulence, to spell it out for you, in case you didn’t know.) What’s the point in it at all? Granted they are very useful psychological tools to somehow coax people into the illusion that, whilst they sit in a giant metal can 30,000 feet above the ground, they are quite safe from harm because they have a piece of material around their waste, though what good would it be in a crash situation? Presuming you survive the impact, then wearing the seatbelt would essentially garrotte you – if not slice you clean in two. Now, I’m not some malwisher that wants to look at the downside to everything, but I just don’t see the point. (That said, buckle up kids – they keep the cabin crew happy, and you don’t want an enraged gay guy with a trolley full of hot beverages on your case [metaphorical or physical - imagine seeing that one on the baggage carousel], do you?)

I would also go into great detail about the incompetence on a Costa-style scale today at a Canadian coffee shop, however that would be nasty of me. Suffice to say, I was left thinking, rather clearly “Look, I asked for a fecking donut and a mocha, not if you would like to discuss complex logarithmical formulae half-submerged in the river ganges.”

Gaz out.

It would appear that summer has arrived, and in both forms. The first is the arrival of British Summer Time, which is, on the whole, a pain in the arse, as it means it’s dark again when I get up, plus I lose an hour’s sleep, which is never ever good. However, it’s counterpart is much better news, as it would appear that the summer weather flown in from somewhere suitably exotic to make us all feel a bit happier and a lot stickier.

Only last week it was snowing and in the minuses in the daytime. Now it’s gloriously sunny and everyone I’ve spoken to has the same summer vibe – there’s a certain mist in the air that makes it hard to see objects past a certain distance, there’s a halo of clouds around the horizon and a breeze that flutters by occasionally that genuinely makes you feel glad it hit you. People are having lunch outside, wearing sunglasses and shorts (though that could be British pre-emptiveness more than anything,) and starting to mow their lawns, which just adds to the summer vibe. Rinse and repeat. Also, it is worth noting that I detest the word ‘vibe’, however feel it’s the only real way to sum up what I’m trying to describe. Zeitgeist, Atmosphere and sens (not ‘sense’, it’s a French word for a certain feeling that one might get any any one time) might also be apt terminology, though all are a bit too specific for my liking. Not as hippy-y though.

Also, before I go, I would like to stress the following point: The next person that ‘tags’ me via whatever program sends them out will have their genitals forcibly removed (or inserted and then removed in the case of any female or pre-castrated idiots) and then minced before their very eyes into a fine milkshake, sold to Selfridges and will then be forced, at gunpoint, to not only drink their own bodily parts, but to pay extortionate prices for the privilege.

Gaz out.

It's arrived at last - the first anniversary of the first anniversary of Gaz's Blog™, and this, the first anniversary post for such a celebration to be on time. (If you remember, the celebration was delayed last year by two days because of a hissy fit on the part of NTL.) It only seems fitting to look back over the past year (or maybe past two years, if I run out of things to brag about) of successes on the part of Gaz's Blog™, which has now unofficially come to be known as the North West of England's biggest (and therefore, as I have always taught, best) blog.
 
Since this time last year, I have amassed some 17,000 views, bringing the total soaring to a mighty 32,000 (give or take). It would only seem fair, then, given this growth curb, that we can aim for 50,000 views by this point in 2007, by which time, Gaz's Blog will be approaching its third anniversary. (Seems a long time away, but the time sure flies.) How will I achieve this epic total? Well, for starters, I branched out recently into video blogging and created Gaz's Vlog™, for a slightly different outtake on events and moods. They're also visible on youtube.com, if you're into that sort of thing, though you don't get the witty puns and snappy layout on there, so I recommend you visit the proper site instead. Also, it is my proud duty to announce the creation of Team GB™. (Yes, it's a witty pun on the Olympic team, however I got to the ™ before they did, so I guess Gaz's Blog™ will be entering a team in the next Olympics. Hoorah.) I will continue to deliver the same high-quality, fantastic, epic (and other such words) blogs™ and maintain the site. However, I decided it was time that some of the regular contributors deserved a bit of recognition, so check out the Team GB™ box on the left hand side of the site.
 
Anyway, it remains for me to thank those that comment on the blogs™ (and guilt trip those that used to but now don't) and help it to grow and expand - to thank you for visiting, and invite you to add it to your RSS feed. (Click the little orange button at the top to do so.) Until the next time, then, all that remains for me to say is;
 
Gaz out.

• Almost 32,000 views
• Viewers in more than 50 countries
• Option to translate the Blog™ into ten languages (more coming, hold on)
• Musical interludes

So where does one go from here? Surely there is only a few possible routes with which one can progress - and the one that seemed the most appealing is Video. I looked about the place and assembled a full team of websites to help me with the hosting, displaying and playing of Video Blogs, or, as they are henceforth known for you, the viewer, Vlogs™. Thus, Gaz's Vlog™ is born. Panic not, though - loyal Blogfan™ - Gaz's Blog™ shall remain fully operational - if not more becoming more frequented by witty statements and observations, as now I will be able to refer to Vlogs™ in the Blog™ and likewise in reverse.

So, where to go from here? Gaz's Vlog™ can be found at http://gazsvlog.blogspot.com, and already has an introductory post and a first Vlog™ propre, so I invite you to view at your leisure. Anyone can leave a comment, so I invite you to do so, or else I shall just end up criticising more and more until I finally find something that touches a nerve. So there.

Gaz out.