audi olympics
'funny, and not a little bit strange' - the guardian; 'an offbeat treat' - web user
Sunday, August 31, 2003
Dying wish

In the event of my demise, it is my final wish that my remains be packed tightly into the three-drawer desk in my ex-boss' office. Thank you.
Saturday, August 30, 2003
Search of the week

A new feature on the Olympics.

Engine: Google
Olympics position: 18th
Search: McGilligan brothers unemployed leprechaun-juggling.

Thank you.

Real 71st link stands up
Sorry, seems I got my links confused yesterday. The real 71st site to blogroll Audi Olympics is Annabella Bunt, although I question her motives.
Thursday, August 28, 2003
Taxing new laws for taxi drivers

A controversial Audiville councillor has denied that new rules governing entry to taxi-driving in the town are too tough. Existing drivers, who, from Monday, will have to speak six European languages and have graduated cum laude from the Sorbonne University, have been given only nine days to gain the relevant qualifications or risk state-controlled epilepsy.

New drivers, says councillor Rags Martell, will need to have a firm grasp of virtual-reality polyhedra, of differential and integral inequalities and differential equations. A sound knowledge of the theory and applications of higher-dimensional dynamic systems, of multivariate analysis and of fuzzy systems will also be required.

Martell has slammed the age-old taxi-driver test, The Knowledge, as being “fit only for midgets”. He intends to replace it with a series of three-hour exams posing questions such as: The Virgo cluster contains about 2,000 galaxies, has an effective radius of 2 Mpc, and is at a distance of 16 Mpc. The peak photon energy occurs at 10 keV and the total X-ray luminosity is 1045 ergs/sec. Assume Ho=70 km per second, per second. What is the total thermal energy of the x-ray gas?

Martell, who is Harvard’s leading postdoctoral research fellow in astrophysics and has a double-first in languages and computational physics, adds that drivers will also need to have green eyes and a semi-inflatable mother named Truffles.

Martell is due to sit before the Monopolies Commission on Monday.

Only 29 to go now
Caprice Nunk is the 71st site to blogroll me. Way to go, Caprice!
Wednesday, August 27, 2003
Fire Service Open Day

Happy Audiville youngsters turned firefighters for the day when they tried to rescue a teddy trapped in a burning building. With real firefighters unfortunately on a lock-in from the previous night, the lucky children, despite having makeshift breathing apparatus and no firesuits, did not think twice about saving the bear, and dived happily into the inferno at Thragton’s Mill. The cheery children climbed through lethal, fume-filled tunnels to reach the worthless bear.

Luckily, the bear was not in real trouble – for the emergency incident was part of Audiville Fire Station's Open Day. The day was a roaring success for paramedics and plastic surgeons, who kept burns down to around 75%. Despite highly vocal crowd support, readily available refreshments and poultices, and high standards of rubbernecking, the Firefighter Experience may not be repeated in its present form until the needless fuss has died down. Plans for an Audiville Long-Range-Weaponry Family Day have been put on hold, as Beppo the Clown is double-booked, but the Italian Mafia Child Exchange Programme will go ahead.

Blogroll appeal reaches 70
Only 30 links to go before retirement. Telford McSpunt from the absorbing Naked Blog has become the 70th weblog to blogroll Audi Olympics.
Tuesday, August 26, 2003
Education shocker for elderly

Audiville residents were complaining today after the introduction of pensioners’ schools in the borough was mooted. The idea, which would end compulsory education for under-16s, is the brainworm of controversial councillor Denison Scrud. Scrud yesterday defended the new system, citing the appalling joblessness among the over-65s. “Forget the kids,” Scrud said today, “87% of school-leavers are in work, but the Government figures conveniently gloss over the oldies. Last year, not a single wrinkly was working in this town. I aim to make these wizened leeches less of a burden on the state.” The move follows the recent introduction by Scrud, 7, of special kiddies’ streets with 18-inch streetlights, jellied pavements and Cadbury’s bollards.

An enormous sense of wellbeing
Besiktas Tiramizu, a man who believes that cooking is less effective without food, and without whom there would be no Parklife blog, is the 69th site to blogroll me.
Monday, August 25, 2003
The Tim Project

Me: How’s The Tim Project, then?
Wife: Nigel, he’s going to be a baby. He’s not a project, and you’d better bloody well start seeing it that way.
Me: Oh, come on. I made him a mobile today.
Wife: Yes – out of tennis balls.
Me: And there was that development plan I mapped out, too.
Wife: Ah, yes. As I remember, you took it from pages 3 to 65 of the US Professional Tennis Association Junior Development Program. God, you make me mad.
Me: Ow! Ah! The home is no place for violence.
Wife: Well, let's get in the garden then

[two minutes later]

Me: Sarah, it’s really chilly out here. Please let me back in.
Saturday, August 23, 2003
Film reviews: the kittens from Hell

Film: From Hell
Stars: Johnny Depp, Heather Graham
Cost: £38/month + football, tennis and naked breasts, Sky MovieMax

The perfect Ripper film would be shot in monochrome, at night, in the East End of London, with East-End actors playing razzled old fags out on the game. From Hell, shot in glorious technicolour, in broad daylight, in LA, when the directors weren’t looking, stars Heather Graham, fresh out of the Surval Mont-Fleuri International Language and Finishing School for Girls. Depp cracked the cockney accent but, like the man in boxing gloves who managed to open a particularly well-sealed pot of yoghurt but then didn’t bother with the contents, forgot to act.

Olympics verdict: Scarier than an afternoon at a kitten farm, but not much.
Friday, August 22, 2003
Reward for rooftop fire heroes

Shy heroes who watched intently as a young boy with smoke-filled trousers leapt to his death from a rooftop have said it was bloody lucky that nobody got more seriously hurt.

Wool engineers Rob Chog and Denny Rubbings were today being hailed as heroes for their selfless observational skills. They saw 11-year-old Ritchie Sambuca hurl himself from a 40-foot roof ledge as smoke billowed from his shorts.

Says Rob: “Ritchie’s shorts were well ablaze by the time we arrived, but we were much too timid to get involved. It was a miracle he didn’t frazzle to death, or worse. It was also lucky that he was athletic enough to jump from the roof, otherwise we would have had to use the extending ladders off our van.”

After their heroic observations, Rob and Denny correctly assumed that no one else was in the now-burning building, and wandered off in search of a bite to eat.

Rob and Denny’s achievement was recognised today when Audiville Mayor Tennyson Futtock presented them with Cilla Black. A spokesman for the UK fire department, who were on a team-building exercise in Benny’s nightclub at the time, said, “We believe that Ritchie’s shorts were built from an experimental pyrotechnic-display material that has now been partially discontinued.”

Ritchie’s mum has disposed of 17 more pairs of the blazing shorts, but retained one or two for sentimental reasons and for special occasions. Meanwhile, a large consignment of the combustible shorts intended for the Queen is being casually inspected at Dover.

Arabella O’Buggery’s She Came in Through the Bathroom Window is the 68th site to blogroll me. This blog may end when I get 100. Just a thought.
Thursday, August 21, 2003
The little charmer who may never own an Audi TT

Loving parents of an Audiville man who may have only 40 years to live have launched a public appeal to buy him an Audi TT. Forty-year-old Nigel Graber, known as Nige, was born with Fiscal Atrophy. Doctors have warned he may never own a fast car, have a decent holiday or wear Lacoste. Privately, specialists fear the crippling disease may mean he has to work for a further 25 years. Nigel has limited social skills, and is sometimes slow to the net.

He is, however, bright as a button, with a reading age of 38. Nigel’s parents want their son to have as much independence as possible in his remaining years. “That’s why we want the TT. Nigel has limited social skills, but he has indicated, through simple body language, that he would prefer the premium package with the heated seats and lights, the CD-based navigation system and the Bose ICE pack,” says his mum.

Family and friends have already started to rally round to help raise the necessary on-the-road price of £28,000.

Help make a wish come true
An Audi TT may be out of your reach, but you can pledge money to the Royal Bank of Scotland today. Just £25 would buy a night out at Pizza Hut; £50 would get Nigel some much-needed straight-leg, boot-cut Kirano jeans, while £1,000 will buy a Denon AVF 100/S home cinema.

Naked Blog
He hates my site, and has said so, but I love his and I've blogrolled him. He has a sort of wistful, remote, Scottish diffidence that's just so similar to this site.
Wednesday, August 20, 2003
Unlikely conversations: number 1

Me: Can I see you in your office, please?
Boss: Er, yes, sure.

[in office]

Me: Right, good. I have a, er, situation at home, and I need to ask a favour.
Boss: OK, er, do you want to tell me about it?
Me: It’s a little difficult, but, here goes. At the weekend, my daughter got a tiny kitten for her birthday. He’s called Harry, he’s cute as hell, he has a way of nuzzling into your neck when he’s trying to get comfortable, and he has a sort of raw and pointless energy that I find very life-affirming. Clearly, I’m missing out on his development and on watching him play with his wool. Truth is, Keith, I’m finding it very difficult to be in the office right now.
Boss: Oh, Christ, Nigel, I understand entirely. Go home. Take as long as you need.

Nueva competicion fantastica del seabird!
One of today’s visitors has very kindly translated me into Spanish. Click here. Thanks.

One candle
Audi Olympics is kind of a year old today. It’s actually about 16 months old, but we’ve hidden the early stuff under a cybercushion, cos it wasn’t quite in keeping with the nonsense that followed. Thanks for sticking with us.
Tuesday, August 19, 2003
What constitutes a holiday?

Me: Oh God. Look at these bank statements. I can’t see us going abroad ever again.
Wife: Well, I didn’t go, if you remember.
Me: True, but I think you should be philosophical about it. I mean, one year, I couldn’t afford a holiday, but I spent two hours shopping for midget gems in Uxbridge High Street instead. It didn’t rain for the majority of the time, it was reasonably relaxing, and I considered myself lucky to have had a break. I mean: what constitutes a holiday? Another time, I had that great driving adventure around Cheshire.
Wife: Eh?
Me: Yes, that was a hell of a holiday. It lasted well over a year. There was an early start each day, admittedly, but I covered nearly 100 miles a day and got a lot done in between.
Wife: That's your work, Nigel.
Me: Some might see it like that. You see, holidays are a zen experience: it’s all about the spin you put on a particular situation. Then there was that amazing trip across the Rockies in a Winnebago.
Wife: That wasn’t us. It was our neighbours.
Me: Ah, so you’re saying that, for you to enjoy a holiday, it has to be you who goes on it? That’s pathetic. That’s just narrow-minded, negative thinking.

[half-an-hour later]

Me: The weather’s turned now, Sarah, and it’s bloody cold out here.
Sunday, August 17, 2003
Birthday bedtime stories

Me: 'Bambi's mother sensed danger. 'Run, Bambi, run,' she cried. The little fawn ran with all his might as the hunters' gunshots rang out. When the frightened fawn reached the edge of the meadow, he looked around for his mother. She was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Bambi found himself face-to-face with the Great Prince. 'Your mother can't be with you any more,' he said solemnly. Bambi hung his head and cried...'
Tibbie: Waaaaa! Boooo hoooooo! Daddy (sob), why are you not upset about Bambi's mummy?
Me: Mmmm, venison...
Friday, August 15, 2003
Knowing me, knowing you

There is no knowing smile like the knowing smile the PC repairman gives you when he returns your PC.

And that’s probably because of love machine Chiffon McKittens, who I believe has become the 68th link for Audi Olympics, although, on your work PC, you don’t want to hang around long enough to find out.

Audi Man in blog-branding coup
And, it seems I’ve christened a new blog. Carsley ‘Sidewinder’ McTesticle has launched Thanks, Carsley.

Audi Daughter, 6, in story-writing sensation
Hie my name's Tibbie. Hie my name's Hannah. Don't mind her she's just my shutpid sister who punched me in the nipple one day. Her eyes are brown and so are her teeth. I've got three last things to say. Hannah gaggles when she brushes her teeth. She does lodes of nipple twisting because it's her job and she hates ham.
Thursday, August 14, 2003
Another hollow triumph beckons

Robinson Squifflet
Terry’s Chocolates Marketing Dept

Dear Robbo

Well, yippee-doo-dah. Paula Radcliffe is fit for the Paris World Championships. Am I alone in thinking that Miss Radcliffe will never be recognised as an all-time great until she has hopped the World Championships 5,000m and 10,000m simultaneously. Whilst bleeding. In a different timezone. With some screaming babies lashed to her back with piano wire. And with a puppy up her shorts.

And she has a hairy leg.

Yours etc.

Alfred the OK
My second-most-medicated reader, Steve Garrett, now has a blog. Damn memorable it is, too. Get in there.
Wednesday, August 13, 2003
Office observation

Explaining to your boss that you are enduring ‘seven shades of sh#t’ in your job requires a finely judged assessment of his mood and that of the office. Serious yet receptive would be ideal.

Office observation #2
Later, when your boss appears wearing Superman stars-and-stripes underwear over his trousers and attempts to fly around the office, you will decide that the decibel level of the accompanying laughter is probably directly proportional to the number of Purple Ronnie posters his audience has at home.

Inevitable cliches
This kind of world-class mood misjudgement will result in ten minutes in the car, down in the parking bay, head in hands, listening to Tom Petty’s Don’t Do Me Like That at Krakatoa-erupting volume.

# If you were in the public eye, they’d be giving someone else a try…#’

Home leg
The coach to Blair’s armed forces for the home leg of the Iraqi fixture has dropped by. Conway ‘Tickles’ McTickles is the 67th blogger to blogroll Audi Olympics.
Tuesday, August 12, 2003
Aussie team nails Brit tennis problem

British men’s tennis has produced just one non-Canadian grand-slam finalist since 1936, when that rabid competitor Bunny Austin savaged the Wimbledon draw like a shark scenting blood. That’s why a team from the world-renowned Australian Institute of Sport has investigated the problem. Astonishingly, they have completely dismissed financial misappropriation, abysmal coaching and youth development, the lack of schools programmes, the mental approach of our top players, the Guardian, the dismal weather and the hopeless club system as relevant factors. The crack team, who researched the problem for 18 years at a cost of AUS$247m, has blamed seven decades of ignominious, embarrassing failure entirely on Cliff Richard's Bounceathon programme.

Pedalo On-board Atomic Missiles Officer Carsley 'Sidewinder' McTesticle is the 66th to blogroll Audi Olympics.
Monday, August 11, 2003
Relaxing on a hot day

Me: I have special ankle joints that allow me to bend my feet not just forwards, but also backwards and sideways, to reach tasty animals hiding in tree hollows and crevices. The deeply held fear that you are a pre-school child living in a large, inflatable body, a condition that can no longer be cured by medical science, is the most popular phobia of middle-aged editors living in northern England. I have examined my mother-in-law’s skull, and I feel that she is a near relative of the 12th-century tube-nosed bandicoot.
Wife: Nigel, what the bloody hell are you up to?
Me: I’m lying by the pool.

Tower Hamlets Council dry-water researcher BJ Quoll, and the man who is going to teach me how to become a successful author, is link number 65 for Audi Olympics.
Friday, August 08, 2003
Low expectations

Visitors to the Fulwood area of Preston were last night being warned about a pregnant teenage girl carrying several heavy shopping bags. Tennis player Nigel Graber, on the way to his Thursday-night match, stopped to ask directions to the Preston Sports Arena. He says: 'It all seemed pretty much on the level. She asked for a lift because she said she was ‘going that way anyway’. Twenty minutes later, and five minutes late for my match, we pulled up outside a council house. ‘Thanks, love,’ she said, and jumped out.' Graber, who showed similar gullibility when completing a questionnaire from pseudo-EMAP journalist Chris Bourn, was last night inconsolable among shrubs at the foot of his Lancashire garden.

Further linkage
Norwegian playwright Henry Gibson is the 63rd site to blogroll me. And Bobby Twoll from Apoptygma is the 64th. Will you still feed me?

Audi Olympics has had about a grillion hits off Blogger today. If you came here from Blogger homepage, please comment below and tell me what the bleedin' 'ell the link was. Thanks.
Thursday, August 07, 2003
Blogrolled by Liverpudlian mud-wrestling criminal

Blogrolled by Liverpudlian mud-wrestling criminal. The manly smell of a pipe is the 62nd link for this bizarre site.
Wednesday, August 06, 2003
Air shots

When you have been on holiday and got some great shots of the Arcachon basin, the Tour de France leaders and your children playing in the sunset on the Petit Nice beach, a good maxim to follow is to preload some film into your camera.

Small ad
Chinook-helicopter-and-trampoline haircut game, precision sport at its best, reluctant sale due to cranial surgery, only £4.
Tuesday, August 05, 2003
Small beer

When you have spent four hours adapting one of your blogs into the latest in the 'Drink Australian, think Australian' Foster's-lager ads, then posted your work to M&C Saatchi in London with a view to a – oh, I don’t know – let’s say £53,500 lump sum and a freelance retainer of, ooh, £30k/year, then you see on the TV a completely new ad concept for Foster's lager featuring a man bungee-jumping into a crocodile’s mouth, you are damned unlucky.
Monday, August 04, 2003
Cunning stunts

When you are on holiday and watching the French car-stunt show, and the driver is doing his driving-on-two-wheels-I-can-pick-up-progressively-smaller-objects-through-the-open-window routine, and you accidentally drop your camera beneath the temporary seating, and the eight-year-old French kid looks at you over-excitedly, with his tongue hanging out, in that, ‘I can do this. I do this every week, it’s what I come here for,’ kind of way, and he disappears beneath the bleachers to rescue your camera, if you then drop a cigarette packet for him to retrieve, then a cigarette, then a Rizla paper, you risk his dad’s garlic-flavoured wrath.

The driving-on-two-wheels routine can get boring after 47 minutes or so. Try parking it on two wheels, Frenchie. That’ll impress me.

Absent blogger in links coup
More badly advised people have blogrolled me. The short-surnamed goo-man, Pete Dot Nu, has joined the party, and Maddy Twag, officially listed in the Guinness Book of Records as World’s Most Irritating Human, has become link number 59. Also, Steve Spork, author of Parklife, official site of the Steve Spork Parklife Blogspot Personal Weblog Foundation, has blogrolled me, and 'Anyone-who-ever-met-John-Leslie-gets-called-‘we’ll-call-her-Susan', is link number 61.

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