Pic from InsideThe Games.biz
The security at London Olympic venues is now being provided by soliders. As far as I’ve heard, they’ve been polite, reassuring and quite hot. Phoarr! (That’s according to one Olympic volunteer anyway.)
But here’s a security dilemma that left the soldiers scratching their heads. And there’s a prize for the best (or correct) solution supplied by YOU.
It was like this: The first military searcher could not decide. He called in his sergeant. The sergeant pondered a while, before eventually coming up with a verdict.
The puzzle is coming up in a moment. But your challenge, dear reader, is to tell me in the comments below, what you think the army sergeant decided. (You’re also welcome to say what he should have said or done.)
So here’s the scenario:
A parent with accompanying children arrived at the entrance to the Olympic venue with two full plastic water bottles.
The rule is that no liquids are allowed to be taken into the site. (For security reasons. Free water is available inside. Empty vessels are permitted.)
But this resourceful parent, anticipating a hot thirsty day, had frozen the water bottles overnight. As it happened, the day was overcast, and chillier than expected – and the ICE HAD NOT MELTED Continue reading
Excessive pizza toppings transform Tibet's spiritual leader
Ever told a joke that fell completely flat? Happens to me all the time.
But at least I haven’t done it on live television.
Ever wondered what you’d say to the Dalai Lama if you met him? Well, here’s a tip. Don’t copy this guy coming up.
And have you ever mixed up a work colleague with a leading Nazi? That was a rhetorical question by the way. Obviously we’ve all done that. But probably not on Continue reading
The name of the main character in Blackwatertown has been a lingering problem for me. I’ve been putting off resolving the situation so as not to get caught up in interminable contemplation of this name and that name, to the extent of doing no writing.
My worry was that it was just too similar to living people, who might understandably be a bit miffed to read about the mullarkey their fictional alter ego gets up to – especially as much of my inspiration has come from real incidents.
However, at last, the problem is solved. I have the new name. It works. I’ll introduce you another time when it has settled in a bit. I just need to change it throughout the text (fine), and remove some convoluted passages that existed mainly to accommodate the old name, and then develop all the good stuff that flows from the new name.
All systems go. No problem. So why isn’t it happening?
Night shifts. Family. Buying shoes. Making the tea. Cleaning the bog. How do you fit in bright-eyed clear-minded writing time?
(I know, I know… You just stop whingeing and get on with it.)