I don’t get it. Aren’t Jane Austen and Charles Dickens books already available at Project Gutenberg for free? Why in the world would anybody then pay Penguin Books for an “ePenguin” e-text version?

Awww, little Gwynnie learned that fat people are discriminated against. Can I get a round of golf claps, please?

New Poll: Maybe I’m being too harsh on the good men and women who keep our city running. (Well, mostly running.) Anyway, please tell me what you think of public transportation.

Hooray! Max is back to regular posting. You should definitely check out his new house. I LOVE that red kitchen!

Tube Strike Over Comment at Web-Goddess.co.uk!

Well, not really. I did, however, receive an angry e-mail about this post, where I commented that “Only the bloody English would strike over teapots.” A small (yet public) retort to this individual:

• I didn’t say they were only striking over teapots. Did you even read the article I liked to? It’s very clear that the union leaders have other complaints. I just thought it funny that A) tea making facilities were ranked up there in importance with adequate female changing rooms, and B) every newspaper in the country made reference to the “tea” issue in their headlines.
• As my original post was only one line, how could you even presume to know what I think anyway? “You no doubt believe that female toilet facilities are a minor disagreement…” Where in the world did I give you any cause to suppose this?
• “Pity you don’t live in the real world and just make silly headline statements that are only half truths.” Headline statements? This isn’t a newspaper. I repeat, for those of you who don’t get it, that I am not a news service. This is a personal website. These postings are my personal opinion. Take issue with the Times or the Guardian, but don’t pick on me for not agreeing with you. Just stop reading.

Sorry for the rant, but I couldn’t resist. I have no problem with somebody disagreeing with me, but this person didn’t even take the trouble to find out my actual stance. They just attacked. For the record, I think working in public transport has to be one of the most difficult and thankless jobs in London. At the same time, I think the service is unbearably bad and many of the workers seem to have an “us vs. them” attitude towards both the public and the government these days. And I’m not speaking as a tourist; I’ve lived in this city for over two years now. And to be frank, I don’t care if drivers have to use a kettle instead of a boiler. And I don’t care if they have to wear ugly red waistcoats. I just want to take the Tube to Heathrow without sitting on the tracks outside Acton for half an hour every single time.

(How flattering is it that someone from London Underground reads my weblog? Well, I don’t know that for sure, but given that this individual only took offense at my Tube comment and not at my indictment of British cuisine, one can only suppose.)

Can I play too? All the cool kids are jumping onto this new meme. I can’t resist. I’m not a gay man, though, so I changed one question a little bit.

I have: to start going to the gym more often.
I see: the gray and rainy streets of London.
I hate: getting up in the mornings.
I miss: Mountain Dew. In a big way.
I wonder: if I’ll be here this time next year.
I find: myself becoming more and more like my mother.
I want: my student loan creditors off my back.
I regret: falling out of touch with some of my best friends from college.
I need: self-washing laundry.
I wish: my little brother good luck at college.
I fear: death. Seriously.
I hear: my sister whining that she needs the computer to see if one of her three boyfriends e-mailed her.
I love: Snookums.
I smell: nothing. My allergies are killing me.
I crave: a Tivo. I miss watching TV.
I feel: like I’m doing all right.

When was the last time you…
Talked to an ex: six months ago
Kissed someone: when I woke up this morning
Were sarcastic: What time is it? 🙂
Laughed: last night when one of my Sims got abducted by aliens
Cried: watching the Buffy season two finale a few weeks ago
Had a nightmare: within the last week
Danced: Snookums and I dance all the time. We conga up the stairs.
Smiled: this morning
Bought something: two weeks ago, a new bra from Marks & Spencer

Last book you read: Bill Bryson “Down Under”
Last song you heard: “Perfect Gentleman” by Wyclef Jean
Last movie you saw: “Cats and Dogs”
Last thing you had to drink: Guinness
Last time you showered: Uhhhhh… Didn’t I mention I spent 12 hours in front of the computer yesterday?
Last thing you ate: Papa John’s “All the Meats” Pizza, Cheesy Bread, and Breadsticks

Do you…
Smoke: Nope.
Do drugs: Come on. My family read this!
Live in the moment: I’m pretty much incapable of doing anything but.
Sleep with stuffed animals: They’re in the vacinity, but not in the bed.
Have sex: Again, I refer to the fact that my Grandpa’s probably reading this right now.
Play an instrument: trumpet through the 10th grade.
Have a dream that keeps coming back: Yes, being chased and running, running, running
Believe there is life on other planets: I suppose.
Consider yourself tolerant of others: Definitely.
Remember your first love? Yes.
Have any gay friends? Gay, lesbian, bi. I got ’em all. (This was the question I changed.)
Read the newspaper? Yes, though mostly just to rant at Victoria “Pretentious Ass” Harvey.
Still love your first love? No way. (You can’t hear me, but I’m laughing hysterically.)
Believe in miracles: I want to.
Have a favorite candy? Not really. You can’t go wrong with chocolate and peanut butter though.
Wish on stars? Yes.
Believe in God: I dunno.
Believe in magic: I wish.
Believe in astrology? Not. I still read it though.
Like the taste of alcohol: Most of it.
Hate yourself? More often than is healthy.
Talk to strangers who IM you: Occasionally. I get lots through my Dahl site.
Have any bad habits: Procrastination, going into work late, obsessively reading Star Wars and Harry Potter spoilers on the Internet.
Like your handwriting: Not really, but I’m too lazy to change it.
Collect anything? Roald Dahl stuff.
Have a secret crush? It’s not a secret. I adore “Oz” from Buffy.
Have any piercings? Three total in my ears, and used to have one in my navel.
Have any tattoos: Yes. My last act of teenage rebellion.
Go to church: Nope.
Have any pets: Animals scare me.
Wear hats: rarely, only if I’m having a really bad hair day.
Pray: Not since I was a kid.
Believe in ghosts: I don’t know if I believe in them, but I’m sure scared of them.
Care about looks? Not obsessively.
Believe in Satan: Didn’t Anne Rice make the argument that Satan doesn’t exist because no one would take such a crappy job?
Believe in witches? I know some people think they’re witches. Whether they can actually *do* anything is another matter.
Have a best friend: I never used to. I never found anybody who “got” me completely. I think Snookums is the first.

The good thing is that our ADSL seems to be fixed and has been up continuously for the last couple days. The bad thing is that Snookums and I spent 12 hours straight sitting in front of our computers yesterday (me updating this and playing Sims, him playing a MUD and downloading kernel patches). Thank God for Papa John’s! 🙂

David Coursey of ZDNet wonders “Should foreign workers get the boot when Americans hurt?” My biggest complaint about the article is that it ignores Americans who are working overseas. He makes it sound like America is the only possible destination for the “best and brightest” workers. Meanwhile here I am in the U.K., watching the tech sector collapse and praying that I don’t get the axe. I’ve seen British co-workers get laid off, and they simply shrug and start to look again. I’ve also seen an American friend’s U.K. company go under, which meant his stay in England (and his relationship with a South African) was over. Coursey doesn’t realize that when people travel overseas to work, it isn’t just a job. They make a new life. All companies need to realize that when they import labor, that person is basically reorganizing his life to the company’s benefit. The least they can do is respect that.

Frequent visitors to Meg‘s site know about her daily battles with the woman at the Armenian deli. I used to think it was funny, until something similar started happening to me. My morning ritual used to consist of a hot bacon and egg sandwich from the little sandwich man who comes ’round, until I realized that they’re icky, fattening, and give me heartburn. So I started stopping at a little deli called “The Whole Hog” near my office on the way to work. For the first few weeks my order was constantly changing, as I tried through trial-and-error to find the perfect “American” type sandwich. I eventually settled on a brown bap, mayo (not butter), chicken breast, cheese, lettuce, tomato, and mustard. (Helpful tip: British “gherkins” are NOT the same as American dill pickles. They’re more like “bread-and-butter” pickles and they taste AWFUL on a sandwich.) Anyway, so I’ve designed my sandwich and it makes me happy and I’ve been ordering it for weeks. Except that there’s one woman who messes it up every single time. She’s the younger, ditzier one, and she never fails to add cucumbers or forget the mayo or something.

This morning was the absolute worst. My sister was off work so she came along to get a sandwich as well. I walked up to the counter, noted with apprehension that Ditz Woman was on duty, and said, “I’ll just have my usual please. The brown bap with mayo, and chicken…?” You know, to jog her memory. She’s seen me every damn day, even when she doesn’t serve me. (I think she’s like an apprentice or something.) Then she turns to Amy who orders a tuna fish sandwich. We pay, I go to work, and unwrap my sandwich only to discover… there’s nothing on it but mayo and chicken. How could she possibly think that that was ALL I wanted? Do I look like a three-year-old? I know in writing it sounds like it was my fault for not specifying every ingredient, but honestly, both of the other ladies in there can make my sarnie without me saying a word. So this morning’s tea was a complete washout. Next to my soggy bun full of chicken, a hot egg and bacon sandwich looked pretty damn appealing.

My little brother leaves for college today! Dude, how old does that make me feel? Answer: VERY.