Monday, August 28, 2006


Help! The following podcasts are forming an orderly queue ...

The latest Mikecast (er, he is on the far left. I think ...)

About thirty Swipecasts.

A Rockmooooothahcast.

A RockabillyOyeBillycast.

That bloke Istvanski, or Bukowski, or Lebowsky or whatever he is called. Actually, I don't know much about him but he sounds a bit Polish. Us Slavs have got to stick together, innit?

Anyway, the husband has now banned podcasts during the hours that he is at home because it eats into valuable time. Therefore I tend to listen to them when I do the ironing or dusting or other housewifely duties. I don't fancy having to forego several hours of sleep just to listen to them at three in the morning, so there are only two choices as far as I can see:

1. Murder the husband and free up some extra valuable time.

2. Listen to them about six months after they were published, or posted or whatever it is called.

I'll let you know which course of action I intend to take in due course.

Rest assured, there won't be a Bettycast available until technology means you can get a microphone for a quid from Argos and I have managed to master the Bontempi organ. Which means by about 2037 then.

as i do not have a sound card and have no immediate hopes of getting same, i am left in the modern dust of the podcastian revolution, and i weep.
i weep.
Eh up First, I'm worried about when they have the technology available to make there own films and we have to see them doing card tricks, acrobatics, giving cookery lessons ...
I'll send a copy on CD to anyone who can't access my podcast. Doesn't help really because you've still got to listen to the damn thing.

And my hair isn't quite that quiffish.
Billy, be a bit more honest. This is definitely a picture of you. All of the photos are genuine photos of bloggers off of the internet, whether they try to deny it or not.

I mean, just to be balanced, here is a picture of me at http://www.geocities.com/cultura_nordica/old_women.jpg
Oh, and happy birthday, again.
Yes, that is indeed me on the far left, doing my bit for Queen, country, and the Daz Sampson Barmy Army.
Mike - see, there's someone who admits that it really is them in the photo ... then again, you're lucky I didn't put that karaoke picture on here, because I didn't know where it was in the archive ...
Not another James Joyce picture!
What, the picture of me? Well, you did marry me after all. You knew what you were getting.
Actually, I'm going to put up five James Joyce posts in a row. And perhaps a Proust post for good measure. Then you'll all be sorry.
Is it OK now to admit a guilty secret about Annie Nightingale when I was about 16? It's all over now, I heard her on Radio 4 the other night but unlike the execrable Jo Whiley who she rivals in the verbal effluvia stakes, she wasn't bad to look at in the 70s.

I never had any credibility anyway.
She was okay by the standards of a lot of dj's. Does she still do that trancey show at 3 in the morning on Radio One? I wonder why it is that all female dj's have to be posh? It's okay for Moyles and Evans to overemphasise their laddishness but women on the radio have to seem aristocratic.
Oh well...sigh...

*Looks at the floor*
Molly, I shouldn't be too bothered. I'm only bitter and jealous because I have a brain the size of a cashew nut. However, I am going to read Swann's Way which has been looking at me menacingly from the book shelf for about a year. Well, I say read it ... how many pages will I manage??
Molly, I took Ulysses on a school skiing holiday when I was 17. Not a wise move. I managed to avoid throwing up over it. Needless to say, my enthusiasm for it has remained tempered.
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Well it's deffo my picture on there...well done Betty, although I'm wondering where you got the photo from?

Were you banished from MySpace in a former life for stalking?
I have my ways and means, Istvanski. When you are an obsessive you always have ways and means.

*laughs maniacally*
Cheers for the plug Bettster and more cheers for putting up such a lovely and charming photo of me - you can't even see the tights round my ankles or the pint of 'buie breezer just off camera left! Prefect - grassy arse!
Prefect? I meant perfect!
I'm glad someone is happy with the picture I've posted of them. Mind you, you're looking a bit pie-eyed so it's not surprising that the 'buie Breezer was hidden off camera.

Prefect, grassy arse was something that used to happen quite a lot behind the storage shed on our school playing fields, actually.
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