Ciaran’s Omnipurpose Blog

I've been thinking about putting this down in writing for a little while now, but an article in Metro convinced me to write about it today. Pandas suck, don't they? Sure, they're cute and fluffy, but they really don't have a clue about how to further the interests of their species. The Panda is the national animal of China. China is a populous, industrious and thriving country, yet the Panda sits around all day and even with all that spare time on its paws, it can't even get round to having kids. So here are some Panda facts that prove my point:

• Pandas only mate between mid-March and mid-May
• Female Pandas can only fall pregnant once per year with a 24-48 fertilisation window.
• Once a litter is born, a mother will focus on only one cub and let the others die.
• Pandas in captivity don't know how to have sex.
• Pandas only eat one kind of bamboo. This bamboo dies out for 2 months a year, leaving the picky Pandas with nothing to eat.
• Of the particular bamboo they deign to eat, they can only digest 2% of it because Pandas are not suited to eating the food they have chosen to eat!
• Male Pandas are hung like hamsters, so even if they do get off their butts to romance the lady pandas, the mechanics of it might prove impossible.

No wonder the blighters are facing extinction! Did you know that China leases Pandas to zoos outside of China? The leases run for 10 years at a cost of $1,000,000 a year? What a wheeze!

On the corner of Golders Green Road and the North Circular, I came across this sad traffic light.

Of course, all was well with the world when the light went green again, but I pity the poor light, suffering a constant bipolar disorder of happy and sad every thirty seconds or so.

So I hit the Great British Beer Festival on 4th August with some old and some new buddies. I got there a bit late after drinks with a client, but was looking forward to some QT with some good old friends. It was horrendously crowded, with 30 minute queues for the cashpoint, beer stands and toilets. Basically, you couldn’t get a drink without queuing, couldn’t take a leak without queuing - these are the most frequent things you’re likely to do when you go drinking, so when will you ever get a chance to actually talk to your friends (except in the loo queue)?

This beer festival is one of those things that you realise is much better as a memory. I first came to this event in 1993, when I was seventeen and thought drinking for the sake of drinking was cool (I had yet to discover the evil cider revenge that we all go through).

The best thing about the festival was seeing Lee, Dunk, Nev and Cas. Next best thing was observing the “Real-Ale Enthusiasts” or “Beer Hobbyists” as they waddled around the festival; with socks, sandals, breasts (men included) and beards (women included). It was also nice taking a little walk and a crafty smoke through the madness of Earl’s Court afterwards.