Top tip for London

Don't leave your bag unattended while you go inside to get drinks. Especially when there are signs saying things like:

Bag thieves in the area.

Don't leave your bags unattended.

I know, I'm a fool and I've got nobody to blame but myself. Luckily, it only had a couple of valuables inside (and only one was irreplacable).

• My camera and memory card
• Asthma-style inhalers
• A new electric shaver
• A notebook with some journal notes, most of which had been typed in here.
• A collection of Edgar Allan Poe-try
• A souvinir pen or two from my travels
• A box of Space Man candy sticks (mostly eaten)
• An expensive-ish software engineering book

...and a partridge in a pear tree. The journal is a bit of a loss, everything else is just a bit inconvenient.

Actually, the bag itself was pretty useful — it was the rugged zip-off daypack from a Macpac backpacker's backpack. Much sturdier than the Secret Santa bag I use for weekend trips away.

The ridiculous bed of sleep

This Monday was Let's Have A Holiday In August Day here in Britain, so it was time for the famous Notting Hill Carnival. It's apparently the biggest street festival of its kind in Europe, and seemed to be something like the Mardi Gras in New Orleans except it was complete rubbish and only the muddy men were topless.

I celebrated Carribean culture in my own way and downed a can of Red Stripe Jamaican lager as well as a Brazilian soft drink that seemed to be guarana flavoured. Also, feijoada is not lemonade made with feijoa juice. Not at all.

Highlights of the weekend:

• Following random Icelanders to a goth/metal club in Camden Town complete with dancing cage girls
• My first meal from the famous Brick Lane (Britain's curry capital)
• Drinking at The Ten Bells, once frequented by Jack the Ripper's victims

Also notable was the three-in-a-bed romp with Bob and Barnesy, in which our collective heterosexuality faced its toughest challenge yet: proximity. It all ended in tears and cruel words, of course. Or awful poetry and French Scrabble. I get those confused. I'm sure I got to use the word camwhore either way.

Top tip for Bristol

If want to hail a taxi in Bristol, be female.

I think at least a dozen empty cabs passed by our man-party without stopping.

Rolling black-outs

What happens if you're at work and the power goes out? If you work at my company, you grab a cab with senior management to play table football and drink beer for a couple of hours at Café Kick.

Stare into space

Bored?

Try the wonderful DrawBall, where everyone paints pictures on the same giant ball. You only get a certain amount of paint each day (to prevent retards from rubbishing masterpieces all by themselves) and you have to solve a little puzzle before you start (I'm not sure what that's in aid of).

Drawing not your thing? Check some of the wonderful pictures from their hall of fame.

If you're more of a video person, here's a few videos that amused me recently:

• the biggest little-girl doll you'll ever see (Google Video, thanks to Ghastly for the tip-off)
• How can you resist The Hoff's latest music video? (Google Video, thanks to Anil)
• Ancient evidence of my possession (YouTube, thanks to Knee-high)

Today's filler post brought to you by swimming Cambridge cows and underweight Poles.