More Bible Club today. I suppose it doesn't warrant italicisation actually. Owing, presumably, to the sterling service yesterday, everyone was very eager to be drinking today from the off, which made it rather more difficult. One person kept coming in and making drinks for everybody and generally making me feel more useless than I might. Anyway, I made a tolerable Jesus, and I don't think I am going to be called upon to do it again. Huzzah! On the other hand, the person who was going to be running the little christian-stuff shop table thing had to go, and someone asked me to do that. I am the wrong person to manage such as thing I feel, but after much disorganisation, that was over too, and I could get back to being quietly and steadily useful. This is by far the most effective form of Mark. And now I suppose I shall carry on reading Emma which I've nearly finished. feeling that in the next thirty pages there must be some unexpected twist, because things are strangely looking up. Hmm.

This computer has the worst homepage in the world. It's set to be the Sheffield Wednesday homepage, but what you actually get is a fullscreen advert, efficiently rendered in mostly graphics which launches a pointless little pop-up. Also, the URL has the temerity to include the string "HomepageTakeover". I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. Check out the monstrosity if you like. Anyway, I've got a little bit of a headache, so I'm going to have a read in between listening to Chris Moyles. A guy came to repair the loft door about half an hour ago, and he's already gone. He said it's stronger than it was before now. I'm not saying the chap's a liar, but it looks considerably weaker. Dad says it'll smell because he's used silicone on it. My nose and I shall see.

I had finished reading Psalm 42 this morning, and feeling moderately contemplative, when there was a reasonably loud crash from the next room, followed by an exploratory "Mark?" So I wandered into Nick's room in my fetching green dressing gown to see what the matter might be. The ladder to the loft was there, so I had a look up, and saw Dad, who related the lately perilous condition of the ladder and desired me to go into the garden and get him a better one. This I did, getting Mum to lend a hand. Come to think of it, I never even asked what he was doing up there.

There's a Camberley Bible Club on at the moment for the kiddies. I'm terrible with kids, but I thought, encouraged by Mum, Dad, and Roger that I might pitch in with more down-to-earth things, like erecting small tents, making weak orange drinks alongside caffeine-based ones, and washing them up. I was expecting, given that there's a lot of legally neccessary forms to fill in for working with kids these days, to be politely refused, but when I asked Laura, the person in charge, she did not seem averse. So that's what I did. They sang and clapped and did other things. There was a audio story bit with music that sounded exactly like Super Monkey Ball (I like the Nintendophiles blurb), which seemed noteworthy. Because I am weak-willed, I'm going to be acting as Jesus tomorrow, walking on the water. I was rather too easily talked into it by the youngest leader there, Jess[ica] who had relatively good trousers, the baggy kind with arbitrary strips of material coming off. Think All Saints. Anyway, now that's done and I'm eating tomato soup and writing this. I Should probably phone the Jobcentre, as this is voluntary work, and so long as the fiscal kind isn't forthcoming I shall be doing it all week.

Some time ago, I recommended Lukas Moodyson's film, Show Me Love, "a Swedish film about lesbian schoolgirls". I was clearly in a stupid sort of mood, because that description combined with the rather less pleasant original title, which I gratuitously used when such a nice-sounding one is available, makes it sound completely unwatchable by anyone with any moral sense at all. That's entirely wrong-footed; It's one of my favourite films, and if you can catch it on BBC Four tonight at 2140, I feel that you should. Thank you, that is all.

We were just eating Sunday lunch when a wasp came over with the intent of partaking of my meal. "Avaunt." I said, flapping at it half-heartedly, prompting the question of what "avaunt" means from my Dad. I said it was the kind of thing you might say to a recreant knight, or fowle daemon, if you should meet either. So the he asked me what "recreant" meant. I don't really know. But I thought it'd be fun to guess c.f. miscreant. I expect the "creant" part is old past tense for "created", so a recreant is one who has been uncreated. In the sense of a knight, I suppose that would be a shamed knight, or one whose behaviour marked him out as false. Our survey said: a fair enough match for a guess on the meaning, completely out on the etymology.

Nicked from Aquinas via Shrine of the Holy Whapping, who need to get their permalinks together.

It is against reason to be burdensome to others, showing no amusement and acting as a wet blanket. Those others without a sense of fun, who never say anything ridiculous, and are cantankerous with those who do, these are vicious, and called grumpy and rude.
Aquinas, Thomas. Summa Theologica. Trans. GilbyII-II.cxlviii.4.

Mum and Dad got back today. They seem pretty chipper despite being rained on in tents all week. I've just been doing odd things. Dropping a Nicholas here, buying potatoes there. We've just been shopping, and bought a whole ton of stuff. I think Dad thinks we eat too much. I managed to find some ginger beer, and it's very good. We also got an Indian Meal with some Cobra beer which I am very much looking forward to. That's pretty much it. Shinwa Andy and I are drawn 1-1.

Well now. It seems my free Squawkbox account has expired. Remarkably, I just can't bring myself to pay for it, so goodbye Squawkbox, and welcome Haloscan, coincidentally at just the time at which Will has implemented it himself.

Good morning all. Well, I say all... Anyway, not a great deal going on, except that Shinwa's getting his rematch and someone's been sneaking round and reading the gas-meter. I found the back gate open and the meter cover also open. Very rummy. When I got up this morning, about half an hour later than Nick I think it was; 0945 , he called me, if I remember correctly, a slacker. About ten minutes later I find him back in bed playing Pokemon. Why do Blogger wants us to use <em> tags rather than <i> do you suppose?

Hello, I've just got back from giving blood. It was quite good. There was a group of first-time donors who kept on saying things like "It doesn't hurt; only as much as being stabbed with a rusty nail." and "Look at Chris! He's fainted. Hehe, you wet tart." to liven the place up. And then a cup of tea and a standard ration pack of three custard creams on a mild, grey day with mild grey drizzle. It feels good to be English today.

Huzzah! Well I've just submitted my application electronically. I wasn't really happy with the amount of blank space left at the end for supporting statement, but I'll chalk it up to font size. Anyway, now I feel I can relax. Best recharge my phone in case any agencies want to call me while I'm giving blood. It seems like an eternity since I gave blood, so I must be able to this time.

SUPPORTING STATEMENT

Please use this section to provide further information in support of your application. This needs to be related to the requirements of the post and should cover the following:

• The experience, skills, knowledge and personal qualities which you consider make you available for the post

I'm, like, unemployed, ya know?