Scrambled

It's worse than being twirly. I used to play this game called Boggle. You roll 16 dice, each with letters on it, placing them into a 4 by 4 grid. Then you search for words which you can form by moving through the grid vertically, horizontally, or diagonally, from one die to an adjacent die.

Now there's Scramble on Facebook, with an option for a 5x5 grid and automatic lists and scoring. And analysis. Urgh. This is terrible. I shall limit myself to three rounds a day.

And by the way, you can also visit my city and add a Polish Vodka distiller. I seem to be collecting those. Ho ho.

Slacking

I hereby declare that today will be a day in which no useful work gets done, and in which the stress and strain will no longer modulate the young. We must take a firm stand against the kind of work that benefits nobody and yet sets itself up with a kind of ergogenic moral righteousness. No, my brothers and sisters, work must be exquisite toil, properly productive and fuelled by emotion, passion, curiosity and intention.

The rest should just be slack. You can buy slack just as you can buy any other material; you go to a slack dealer and say, "Cut me some slack."

Three cheers for the slack!

Idleness

(with apologies to Helen Reddy)

I am idle, watch me chill
In slumbers too strong for your will
And I know too much to go back and pretend...
'Cause I've heard it all before
And I've been down there on the floor
No one's ever gonna make me slave again!

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And that is what working life sometimes is all about. When I step out there on Monday 11 February, the Lockheed SR-71s will dip their wings and I will speak.