The Independent on Sara Cox’ sacking:
“The rejection of Cox’s brash style marks the demise of the ladette culture that emerged in the mid-Nineties.
Television and music stars such as Denise Van Outen, Zoe Ball, Gail Porter and Nicole Appleton embraced the tomboy image of hard drinking and hard partying, setting a trend that was followed by young women around the country.”
I get really irritated when lazy journalists write stories like this. Do they really think hundreds of women adopt entirely new lifestyles after reading Heat?

Reading about Tim and Neal‘s “King Arthur Subterranean Adventure” made me wonder if Glenrowan’s “Ned Kelly’s Last Stand” was as crappy as I remember thinking it was when I was eight.
And the answer is yes, it is. Apparently it’s $AU15 for 40 minutes of ‘a

Just realised that James didn’t mention the impersonations of nuff come faces either. When I went to see the taping of Never Mind the Buzzcocks last week, Mark LaMarr (sp? care!) made crude comments about disabled people but kept a can of Coke on the desk the whole time. I’m assuming this provides a nice little safeguard because it means that the BBC can’t broadcast it because a brand name is visible.

Blind ‘see with sound’: “It works by translating images from a camera on-the-fly into highly complex soundscapes, which are then transmitted to the user over headphones” (BBC)
I think I’m fascinated because I can’t imagine how it works. Brains, eh?

“Women are losing out in the workplace because they lack the confidence to tackle their bosses about promotions and pay rises, a new survey reveals.

The report reveals a workforce – both male and female – willing to put up with career stagnation and lower pay because they do not want to discuss these matters with bosses they believe will not act on their complaints.
Half those questioned said they most dreaded broaching the subjects of money and career advancement, and 11 per cent would prefer simply to move on to another job rather than have to ask a difficult question.” (Evening Standard)

Grrrrr. “The Catholic Church has been accused of telling people in countries with high rates of HIV that condoms do not protect against the deadly virus.”

“The World Health Organization has condemned the comments and warned the Vatican it is putting lives at risk.
The claims come just a day after a report revealed that a young person is now infected with HIV every 14 seconds.” (BBC)

I’ve been conscientiously staying in this week because I’ve got a cold and I can’t be arsed getting properly sick. Having watched some tv (boring!) and caught up on email a bit (finally!) I’m getting around to blogging bits and pieces I’ve been saving on scraps of paper for a while. I’m obviously missing having someone to read the paper with on the weekend, so you, my faithful readers, will have to do. Pretend we’ve already argued about who’s turn it is to get the papers and who has to make coffee and burn the fried eggs.
Johnathan Frazen, excerpted in the Guardian Weekend magazine a few weekends ago:
“Adolescence is best enjoyed without self-consciousness, but self-consciousness, unfortunately, is its leading symptom. Even when something important happens to you, even when your heart’s getting crushed or exalted, even when you’re absorbed in building the foundations of a personality, there come these moments when you’re aware that what’s happening is not the real story. Unless you actually die, the real story is still ahead of you. This alone, this cruel mixture of consciousness and irrelevance, this built-in hollowness, is enough to account for how pissed off you are. You’re miserable and ashamed if you don’t believe your adolescent troubles matter, but you’re stupid if you do.”