Try your luck...

Around half of all Americans believe in astrology, and 72% believe in angels. Belief in 'good luck' and ways of ensuring it, extend to the superintelligent. The Nobel prizewinning physicist Niels Bohr kept a horseshoe nailed to the wall above his desk and, when asked whether he believed it would bring him luck, replied: “Not at all. I am scarcely likely to believe in such nonsense. However, I am told that a horseshoe will bring you luck whether you believe in it or not.”

I believe in the power of porn. Does that count?

Currently listening to: Crush With Eyeliner by R.E.M.

Men are so fickle.

Phil came through on his birthday. I knew he would. I have absolute and complete faith in Phil's dinner booking abilities. It was magic. Pure magic.

Went to a conference last week at the British Academy. Good fun, but as I expected, everyone was very earnest and anti-Oxbridge. Well, they can all fuck off. They all wanted to know why the University of Wolverhampton does so much more for refugee academics than Oxford. I told them it's probably because no one wants to go to the University of Wolverhampton and they need refugee academics to fill vacant posts whereas Oxford has no shortage of people wanting to work here. Fools.

Currently into The Spinto Band in a big way. A BIG WAY.

There isn't a lot of good stuff on television these days but I could watch the Ask.com advert for hours and hours. The song in the advert is called Such Great Heights by Postal Service but I'm not sure who does the acoustic version used in the advert.
The tagline is "if you don't ask, you don't get". How true. I'd still be virginal, if it wasn't for those desperate, intoxicated acquaintances and strangers.

Now listening to: Our New Home by The Boxer Program

Alexandra again made me a lovely supper last night (and last Friday but that one wasn't very good). We had chocolate fondue for pudding with chunks of banana and strawberries for dunking. I almost shot my load. It was just the two of us last night. Us and some soft porn on Sky TV. We tried to watch it without giggling but we couldn't. How does ANYONE watch heaving, wobbly, vacuous women spanking themselves and dry humping matresses without laughing out loud?

iPods are amazing but the constant need for recharging is deeply tedious. Why oh why can't the good people at Apple sort it out? The battery in mine only seems to last 4 hours.

On Sunday, I met up with Annie for coffee, then cocktails then dinner and an Agatha Christie, Poirot (Belgian not French) mystery (Cards On The Table). I LOVE Agatha Christie. I'm such an old woman. Anyway, it was one with Ariadne Oliver who is one of my favourite characters but they had Zoe Wannamaker playing her. I like Zoe but the role required someone a bit fatter.

Now listening to: Blue Prints by The Dust Jackets

Another conference tomorrow, this time in Reading. What a shithole.