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The power of wine compels you! The power of wine compels you!

Not that I'm keen on this blog being filled with alcohol fuelled rambles, it just kind of happens that way. The problem is that unlike Wifey, who has all kinds of clever things to write about (like how she planted lots of herbs and now doesn't know what's what!), my motivation is much more along the lines of 'well lets have a dabble'.

Wifey is a writer already (by virtue of being in communications and not liking phones) and keen to do more in publishing. I, on the other hand, have this vague idea of being a writer someday and rarely have the motivation to act on it. In fact I can't help thinking, on my less inspired days, that my best chance of getting rich through writing would be to mug JK Rowling.

Hmmm, the Blogger New Post widget features some suggestions for post labels. Specifically 'scooters, holidays, autumn'. Am I supposed be writing about these? Not sure how I feel about this post turning into a literary version of 'Who's line is it anyway'. Any suggestions from the audience?

I used to have a scooter, actually. A Honda Vision (much like this one, but without the green stuff growing through it) with a stonking 49cc of raw power which carried me to and from work when I did my placement year, raging up hills at a brisk 20mph and screaming down hills at terrifying 32mph (with tail wind). It saw me through that year quite well, supping a mere £2 of petrol a week, but sadly succumbed to teenage vandals (*waves walking stick around like an old man etc*) not long after we moved back to Oxford. There then followed a sad tale of greedy vehicle recovery companies, rubbish policing and personal apathy. But that has nothing to do with holidays or autumn, so we'll skip that.

Holidays are great. What, you want more than that? Hmph. Technically I'm on holiday today, something more easily enforced than usual because my phone has decided it doesn't want to pick up my work email any more. This isn't the relief I'd originally thought it would be - it just makes me tense (though that's probably more because I know if it doesn't fix itself I'll have to endure a painful phone conversation with a guy who's got an Indian University IT degree and a mail-order English 'diplomia').

Along with Spring, Autumn is one of those annoying in-between-y seasons in my mind - not one thing, not another, but a transition between the other two. That's probably all I have to say on the subject, but once again I can see from the look on your face that you want more. Yes, I can see you through the computer. Which reminds me of the crazy german lady at my last job who was convinced we spent all of our time reading her emails, even though none of us could read German...

Autumn feels like a long time ago now, as does when I started writing this post. So I'll stop.

Slumdog Trillionaire

Ah booze. The blogger's best friend (especially the angsty emo teens, where would they be without cheap cider?) and literature's worst nightmare.

I've just sat through Robert Peston on the beeb being excited, nay orgasmic, over the apparent 1.3trillion (that's 13 and... well a lot of zeros) you and I have promised to the banks. And then almost fainting with glee at a letter about the Royal Mail's pension fund being billions short. A squee moment to be sure, particularly when like Peston you know that while the credit crunch may cost millions of jobs in the UK, yours will be last to go, because we all need someone with strange mannerisms, suspicious looking hair and David Tennant eyes to use fancy graphics to tell us all about it.

Fantastic - a story about Slumdog Millionaire showing them filming a scene on a skateboard. Genius.

Can't believe I'm almost liveblogging the BBC News here - an activity made pretty much art by Anna Pickard at The Guardian's Organgrinder. I'll spare you the more depressing stories. That said, in a bizarre twist I've turned over to ITV to find a Meridian Tonight interview with Gordon Brown conducted by Fred Dinenage (on a train, at that), who I'm convinced was on quiz show 'Call My Bluff'. One can only hope that the full interview ends with a statement about Labour staying in power and Dinenage revealing a card that says "bluff"...

And Simon Parkin (of broom cupboard fame) doing the weather of all things! I guess sometimes you can't be picky about the work you do. This credit crunch is really biting, isn't it?