My apologies

Since recently learning that the Chinese were planning a space walk, I've been boring anyone who will listen that the Chinese for astronaut is 'taikonaut'. This was one of those things I knew I knew, but not from where I knew it.

However, it turns out they are not taikonauts after all, but yuhangyuans. So, sorry about that. Read more here.

Political correctness/social phenomenon

Is it just me, or are the Male and Female signs on toilets getting harder to tell apart? The little icons I mean. Maybe I'm just getting older - well, I am - but I think it's a collective resignation, not to mention cowardice, on the part of the corporate world, that has changed the designs to be so bland and inoffensive that you can no longer tell them apart at a glance - the point of signage, after all. No more pink for Ladies and blue for Men, and the female and male silhouettes don't show clearly the anatomical and sartorial differences. Are you noticing this too?

Who offers the best curry in Croydon?

Probably not a question you ask yourself very often, but if you were to, then please consider The Chilli Room, where Steve and I took Chris and Jane on Friday evening. Now those two have eaten in restaurants around the world, and to declare this eaterie on Croydon's South End "the best curry we've eaten outside Singapore*" is, I would suggest, praise indeed.

*why the best curry should be in Singapore and not, say, Bangalore, I have no idea. You'd better ask them if you want the answer to that.

Sorry Mr Fry

Have you listened to Stephen Fry's latest blessay yet? It's been a long time coming, but he's finally done the next one. In it, he first of all rails at those journos, bloggers and columnists who, devoid of anything important to say, waste space by simply ranting at something. Then, after apologising, he has a really good rant himself. Anyway, do listen to it.

And so, with apologies to one of my favourite Englishmen, I'm going to just, briefly, mention the fat tit in the fat Land Rover Discovery at the Waitrose garage this afternoon who, rather than sending his fat wife in to pay for the fuel he had just put into his fat tank, spent a good five minutes, oblivious to the half-dozen or so cars waiting patiently for their turn at the pumps, carefully and slowly to wash all the lights, then the windscreen, using the complimentary wet sponge, and only after doing this did he waddle over to the shop to pay for his fuel before, finally, shifting his fat vehicle.

OK, rant over.

My office

Well, not exactly, but this is what I spend most of my day looking at.

Are politicians getting younger?

To discover that the Leader of Her Majesty's Most Loyal Opposition is just three-and-a-half weeks older than me is a sobering thought.

Politicians, in my head, and generally with a few exceptions, are boring, old, white, middle class men in grey suits. I may have to re-think this, because the alternative - that I'm boring, old ... da da da - is clearly unthinkable.

"Why would you want an electric book?"

My percipient nephew's pretty damn cool comment about Steve's new Sony Reader.

Vote for me!!!

Sorry, didn't mean to sound so needy ...

It's just that I've got a couple of designs entered at teetonic, and if you thought they had any merit, you could vote for them I suppose ...

(Note to self ... must stop doing all these ellipses ... shows lack of imagination ...)

Which designs? Oh, sorry, didn't I mention? One of them is a big yellow smilie with the legend under "smile", and the other is just the word "T-Shirt" in a kind of retro blue font. I'm sure you can find them.

Thanks!

Holidays ruined

Sometimes one finds that 'counting one's lucky stars' is the only bright spot in a dull world.

This time last year (or thereabouts) we were coming back from Paris on the Eurostar (although delayed on our return for several hours due to a power cut at the Gard du Nord). If we were there now, we'd be stranded.

And this time six years ago we were in Madeira, having flown there with XL Airways. And again, if it was today, we'd be stranded. The particularly worrying aspect of this particular collapse is that, apparently, if you didn't book a package with a travel agent, but booked elements separately on the company's website - which we did - you almost certainly wouldn't receive any compensation from the bond which is supposed to guarantee customers' money. And with online payments by credit card attracting a surcharge, the temptation is to use a debit car (I can't recall but being a stingy so-and-so I imagine I would have gone for the cheaper option myself) you aren't even covered by the credit card company's guarantees.

Bad times for some this week.

Duran Duran

I want to know how Jon's meeting with Andy Taylor went, don't you? I imagine the answer's on his Facebook, but their site seems to be down at the moment...

Two National Treasures

Firstly, the impeccably-vowelled Mr Brian Sewell, on Sky Arts HD, taking us on one leg of a pilgrimage through Spain, heading for Santiago. I could listen to him for several hours with a huge grin on my face.

Then, a little later, Ms Joanna Lumley, on BBC HD, travelling on the adventure of a lifetime to realise her dream, held since childhood, of seeing the Northern Lights. By train and sled and ski-mobile well into the Norwegian Arctic, she had me transfixed for an hour. I was there with her, as she met locals and found out about this wilderness region of extremes, and the elusive phenomenon she sought so eagerly and, eventually, delightfully, witnessed.

It's what good TV is all about.

It's not just normal paranoia

Have you ever felt like people were looking at you? I don't mean because you've got egg down your tie, I mean more the way people stare at someone famous they've unexpectedly just clocked. It's just been happening to me in Waitrose. So either I'm the spit of some paedo who's all over the Sunday papers, or maybe a pop star? I prefer to imagine the latter, natch. Still, rather disconcerting. Unlike a 'celeb', I doubt if Hello will be interested in shelling out a hundred grand for my exclusive story and picture feature, though, sadly.

Apple pie and ...

Occasionally a car number plate occurs to me which theoretically could exist somewhere. Today I imagined CU57ARD.