The big five oh oh oh
One of the increasingly popular blogging conventions is to make note of milestones reached by a site's hit counter. At 9:40pm, British Summer Time, this blog clocked it's 5,000th visitor. Of course, the real number is actually a bit higher, for various reasons, but let's stick with the official number.

The visitor in question came here by mistake. They were doing a Google search for Mil Millington's excellent page and hit my blog's archive. The seeker of truth who came here works at Midwest Fastener Supply in Wichita, Kansas.

I just have to share this. I know you'll think I made this up, it's almost too funny, but I swear I pulled this off Midwest Fastener Supply, Inc's website:

"People underestimate the value of hardware. Nails, of course, have been invaluable throughout history. For want of a nail, a horse was lost. And for want of a horse, the Vietnam War was lost, along with parts of Eastern Europe. Rivets, too are a sadly negleted item. You may not have realized this, but not one state in the union has a Rivet Appreciation Day. Sometimes, it's important to stop and reassess our values. A simple washer can make a real difference in your life. And a good screw is something we should never take for granted."

Wow. Let's stop and reassess our values

"A good screw is something we should never take for granted," says Jay. Well, quite.

"Rivets, too are a sadly negleted item," he adds. Never again, Jay. Never again.

It really hits you where you live, doesn't it?

Alarm clock blues
The alarm went off very early this morning, as it has gone off every morning since, well, since the last time I had to get up at some ungodly hour. You would think I might turn it off, or at least push it forward to a respectable hour, but no. That's not really me.

My clock has that wonderfully annoying Knee Deep sound so beloved of clock designers everywhere. It says Knee Deep! and I say "I'm asleep" and it says Knee Deep! and I say "I'm asleep." I reach for it, try to wiggle one of the "turnie offie" switches but, of course, just grabbing the thing almost always involves pushing the snooze button. I think I've succeeded, but the clock knows better and smugly settles down to await the crying of lot 49.

Eight minutes and fifty-five seconds later, just as Winona Ryder is saying, "Oh Kieran! Your wise yet witty words and raffish good looks have won me over. Give me a moment while I seductively slip out of these honestly-purchased and absolutely not stolen designer clothes so we can make mad passionate Knee Deep on the Knee Deep. Oh Knee Deep your Knee Deep is so KNEE DEEP!"

Knee Deep! Knee Deep!

Stupid nine minute snooze alarms.

Did you ever wonder why it was nine minutes and not ten? No? Me neither, but this guy has, and has some interesting theories. Worth a look.

Me slacking off
For the next week and a bit I might not be posting as often as usual. I know some of you already think I'm a lazy bastard, who doesn't post nearly often enough. Well, you're probably right, but unfortunately some real world stuff is interfering, and it has to take priority. I'll still try to find the time to post, but if there's nothing here when you check in, please cut me a little slack.

Just for this week, OK?

Blogrolling
I don't know how it happened, or why or even when, but somehow or other a certain Protocol of Last Resort has become one of the most addictive dailies on my list.

Check her out.

Oh, and P.S. Eat more pickles/gherkins. I'm serious about this.

Hands on sticky desk
Must give the old desk a wipe down. A thousand spilt drinks and half-hearted attempts to clean-up has given this old antique a positively icky patina. Bought myself a new chair today, an office-type swivel number, so that I can get at my computer while reading a book. It was getting silly, laying back in my comfy comfy chair (sic), keyboard on lap, mouse on desk or arm rest, beer all over the place, book... umm... well, the book would be picked up, then dropped on the floor, or kept open on my chest and would generally get in the way until I gave up on the affair entirely.

So now I'm sitting at a desk, just like a regular office worker, for the first time in, ahem, quite a while.

Plenty of room for all those thick heavy books right there on the... Wait a second, what about all those empty glasses and cups and chip bowls and empty Sunny-D bottles and DVDs and CDs and CD-Roms and videos and dial-up pizza menus and screws and mouse mats and keyboards and monitors and Shake 'n Vac and I have no idea what that was when it was alive and scraps of note paper and dirty socks (dirty socks?!? How did they...) and empty rice cracker packets (quite a lot of these) and books? Lots and lots of books, but there's no room for any new ones, even on the sticky bits.

I think I'm going to have to clean up. Again.

This is all so depressing.

So anyway, last night I went to see Kristin Chenoweth live in concert at the Donmar Warehouse in London's Covent Garden. I'm tempted to review it for you, but I know you really don't care. Actually, I already have reviewed it, and if you're keen to read my very poorly written words of praise (knocked off in about 10 minutes flat -- It usually takes me that long to type my name) then no doubt you'll find it out there on the web somewhere. No URLs for you.

Just in case you hadn't guessed I am now officially mad for Kristin and feel strange urges to protect her in biblical ways.

Yes, it worries me too.

And speaking of adorable Blondes I almost met in London yesterday... Naw, I'll save that story for another time.

A worthy cause
While I certainly encourage any and all efforts undertaken to help ensure the safe return of Isabella's Bear (hereafter known as the Kalamazoo One) there are one or two more serious issues floating about the world.

In Nigeria, a court has ruled that 30-year-old woman Amina Lawal will be stoned to death once she has weaned her eight-month-old daughter. So, what was her heinous crime? Giving birth out of wedlock.

That's right, she had a baby.

If you wish to register your outrage about the stoning to death of Amina Lawal, please sign Amnesty's open letter to the Nigerian President.

Many thousands have already signed. It only takes a few moments and you will have done something genuinely worthwhile with your day.

My thanks to Jenn for pointing me towards this very important page.

Sadness RE-defined
I just got off the phone. I've booked myself a cheap ticket to see Kristin Chenoweth in concert live at the Donmar Warehouse tonight. Given that I already have good tickets for Saturday night, I'm beginning to suspect something approaching insanity creeping into my personality. The killer, of course, is that by seeing Kristin again tonight I'm effectively blowing that portion of my rapidly dwindling funds that had been set aside for seeing Mahler's Third at the Proms tomorrow night.

There ought to be a law.

And just what does this frankly unhealthy obsession with an obscure broadway musical comedy star have to say about me personally? Whatever it is, it can't be good. I mean, if I were gay, at least I could be all camp and ironic about it, but I don't even have that crutch. Here I am, a beer-swilling, rugby-league-watching straight Australian male who is positively giddy about the prospect of going to see a squeaky-voiced Four-Foot-Nothing blonde sing, among other things, Glitter and Be Gay.

I'm telling you, it's just not right.

Yesterday's link
For those of you who didn't get it, and I think that's pretty much all of you, the link yesterday was the theme song to an obscure Japanese cartoon called Marine Boy. I used to love this show as a kid, but it's one of those cartoons that almost no one else can remember ever seeing. Oh sure, everyone remembers Astro Boy or Speed Racer, but just try bringing up our friend of the sea to the end.

Marine Boy was actually the first Japanese Cartoon to screen in the west, you'd think someone would remember his undersea frollics. It's almost as if there were some vast right-wing conspiracy of silence.

If you visit the fan sites and read people's memories of the show, almost all say something like "I thought I must have dreamed the show. No one else seemed to remember it. My friend who I watched it with denies having heard of it."

I've experience this phenomenon myself. It's a well known fact that every drunken conversation will eventually return to classic childhood TV programs (This was true even before TV was invented; It used to confuse the hell out of medieval drunks). Occasionally I bring up Marine Boy, just to mess with people's minds, but they never remember.

It's a little bit scary, actually.

Can't think of a clever heading
No, you didn't dream it.

Sadness defined
I tend to swear off quizzes on a fairly regular basis. Everyone know how pointless these things are, yet somehow the snazzy graphics and spurious analogies pull the blogger in. The Are you a Blogaholic? quiz offers none of those things. You don't even get any Cut & Paste html to help post your result. So what's the point? Why am I bothering with this quiz result? Beats me! Perhaps it's because I'm a Blogaholic.

Are You A Blogaholic? Results
YOUR SCORE
64.0% 64.0 points out of 100

AVG SCORE
44.1% 44.1 points out of 100

4671 people have taken this silly test so far.
492 people have scored higher than you.
3970 people have scored lower than you.
209 people made the same grade as you.

What does this mean?
64 points is in the 51 through 80 precent
You are a dedicated weblogger. You post frequently because you enjoy weblogging a lot, yet you still manage to have a social life. You're the best kind of weblogger. Way to go!

(link via Kristiv)

Not really bad, just drawn that way
At the risk of alienating some or indeed all of my female readers, it is my solemn duty to announce that the results of the first poll of animated hotness, as conducted by the good folks at retroCRUSH, have been announced. In a result that should surprise no one, Roger Rabbit's main squeeze, the delightfully proportioned Jessica Rabbit, topped the poll by a huge margin.

Rounding out the rest of the Top Ten were:

• Betty Rubble of "The Flintstones" (Wilma didn't get a single vote!)
• Daphne of "Scooby Doo" (She can solve my mystery anyday)
• Ariel (Small mermaid, not laundry powder)
• Faye Valentine of "Cowboy Bebop" (No, I have no idea either)
• Betty Boop (I sooooo don't get the whole Betty Boop thing)
• Veronica Lodge of "The Archies" (Frankly, I prefered Betty Cooper)
• Minerva Mink of "The Animaniacs" (Another blank look from me)
• Blondie Bumstead of "Dagwood and Blondie" (Growl)
• Harley Quinn of "Batman" (Some female version of The Joker, apparently)

I was surprised by how few of the characters in the Top Fifty I'd ever heard of. Obviously I'm getting old. I was happy to see the inclusion of my personal favourite, Judy Jetson, but at #30 I think daughter Judy needs a new press agent.

From a sociological standpoint it was intriguing to note the appearance at #49 of computer generated Princess Fiona. While there is no denying the appeal of this "Shrek" creation, it made it hard to ignore the omission of the technically superior, and frankly much hotter, Dr Aki Ross of the "Final Fantasy" movie. I guess script quality really does count.

Also interesting to note how many hot cartoon characters named Betty there are -- Betty Rubble, Betty Boop and Betty Cooper (from the Archies)

Check out the rest of the list by clicking here.