I don't need no steenkin' body clock
So it's 3:17am CET and I've just got out of bed. We leave for Feldberg at 6:30; that's where the snow is (or isn't, as the case may be, seeing as how it's been so warm all this week). By the way, a solemn resolution: I'm never staying out after pub closing during the week again. Hopefully someone I know will read this and hold me to it...

Here's something pretty. Oh look, I can see my house!

4:22 - time to get dressed/packed. No gloves, no waterproof clothes, no sunglasses, no idea if I should bring a sleeping bag or not...

Lamer than "Jesus Christ"
From --------Thu Feb 8 01:30:28 2001
Date: Wed, 7 Feb 2001 15:23:11 -0600 (CST)
From: --------
Reply-To: groupies@memepool.com
To: groupies@memepool.com
Subject: Re: MY FINAL WORD

On Wed, 7 Feb 2001, Dave Michael Denis Whyte Esq. wrote:
>Ya reckon? I just registered lamerthanjesuschrist.org with namezero; you
>can even have ------@lamerthanjesuschrist.org if you ask nicely.

Dave, you are not only the most surpassingly intelligent person I have seen in my life of stints at Sorbonne, Trieste, Oxford and Harvard, not just the most courageously initiative among any I have read about from Alexander the Great to Field Marshall Rommel, not merely the saintliest I have encountered in my long line of spiritual communions from Cyprian of Carthage to Pope John Paul, but also a surprisingly interesting guy for a memepool groupie and an exemplar to us all. It is perhaps the only combination of virtues which would ever lead me to ask, courteously and with the utmost humiliity--will you please fucking give me that lame address?

Ye Sunday Pilgrimage
So, I'm not black and blue in the Black Forest yet - "Nein, nein - das machen wir am nächsten Sonntag!". Ach so...

Because of this, the hour of the pilgrimage draws near. I refer, of course, to my weekly trip to the train station here to get a dead-tree copy of the Sunday Times for a whopping 10 Marks (about IRP 4). Worth every pfennig, even if it's the English version (natch) and it doesn't have the magazine. As long as I get News Review, Sport, Culture and Doors I'm happy. I can see all the tabloid readers wrinkling their noses at the mention of "culture" but don't worry, it's just a glorified TV Guide.

Usually my next destination on leaving the newsagent is to walk around the corner to McDonalds and partake of some junk but not today! (audience gasps). Today I'm being fed by same non-boarders with whom I thought I'd be on the slopes today; it's just their way of apologising for my stupidity, I'm sure. I'm sure it'll be lovely and I know it'll have lots and lots of salad and I really like salad and I hope in fact that there's nothing else but salad 'cos that'd be delicious. Yes indeed. Another lettuce leaf? Oh thank you. Oh no, I normally nibble like this; don't have much of an appetite, you know. If you'll excuse me, I just have to nip down the street to McD's to, er, check something...

Fame and fortune
Whee, I got linked! That young fella Cosgrave has gone and added me to his Irish blogs list. Tom actually gets regular hits from people he doesn't even know in real life, so I'm only too happy to hang onto his coattails and pick up a few fans (ahem). Sooner or later I'm also going to have to submit this steaming pile of crap to Doras for review. That might conflict with the disclaimer I just had to put on the jokes page though. Hi Rob - Booyakasha etc. No, actually I enjoy hitting n(ext message), e(xport file), public_html/lesinge/jokes/anotherfingjoke, y(es), return - for half an hour every day! I'm going to organise some sort showdown between Rob and my other big contributor, Dara. What, I don't know, but it'll be ugly.

You saw it here first, ladies and gentlemen! Spam Wars, only at LeSinge.org! Put that in your Doras and, er, slam it.

Duuuude!
Total snowboarding radness may be taking place sooner than I thought - ie next Sunday, just a few miles south of here down't Schwarzwald. It's gonna be very ugly but at least I won't be along in my ignominy; three out of the four of us have little/no experience. Broken wrists ahoy!