Bloggo, ergo sum
Ergo, meo getto bloggo

Mid-life crisis time (yet) again.  After listening to about an hour of Nirmal Swaminathan (I think) bumbling his way through a call-in programme on 107.1 FM, I have decided that I shall be a radio jockey.  There is a school that teaches RJ-ing, or at least there used to be one, on TTK Road.  I've decided to first track down this school, enrol there and learn the ins and outs of RJ-ing, and then supplement, if not replace, all the rotten RJs who pollute the airwaves.  Well, at least that is what I have set out to do.  I should have done this long ago. In fact I should have done this the day I heard a female RJ called Caroline (or Elizabeth or Charlotte - this was seven years ago) say, "that was Patricka the Stryper."  Well, at least that gives me something to do over the next few days (or the rest of my life, as the case may be).

I met a girl whose father owes me money.  What do I do? The owing money bit is from far in the past - from when I was freelancing about four years ago. The father was a right bastard - I set up some webspace for him but he was an absolute idiot when it came to understanding the abcs of running a web site, and wouldn't let me troubleshoot.  In the end, I ended up just setting up the space and giving him the username and password to administer it.  Needless to say, he never paid me, and he still owes me.  His daughter walks into my office today asking for some information which we happen to have, and the dissemination of which is the primary function of our organisation.  She is smart, unlike her father.  Only when she leaves does she give me her card with her email address on it.  I look at her full name, her email address, and her residential address and it strikes me that she is the rascal's daughter.  Well, what could I do? I wished her luck and asked her to be in touch should she require any further information. Life goes on!

- M