Lost Days of My Life

Warming Up

8091/21022

(I think I have spotted a couple of misnumbering errors in recent weeks, and so have corrected here. Ironically what I thought was my 21000th day on the planet was my 21001st. And who knows what other errors I have missed over the years. In fact I've just googled it and I think today is my 21025th day alive (or maybe 21026th) Shit. And November 25th 2002 to February 2nd 2025 is apparently 8105 days- which I think might make this entry 8106. My whole life has turned upside down. I don't know what to do any more.

Are there any mathematicians who can give me a definitive answer on this? I was born on July 12th 1967 (and my first pet was called Oscar), so how many days have I been alive today? And I started this blog on 25th November 2002 and have done an entry every day, so what does that make today's entry number? Obviously 25th November 2002 is 1 rather than 0 which I am not sure Google takes into account.

I have two A levels in Maths and can't work this out. If I've got it wrong it will make the whole idea of numbering my blogs and days on the planet look ridiculous.

February is the longest month. Especially if you're not eating Soleros. Here's my update on how that's going for me-

The most dangerous thing about this is that it upsets the balance of my diet. Whilst I thought cutting out a Solero might reduce my calorific intake, it could well do the opposite. I had a guaranteed 98 calorie dessert for lunch (or mid-morning snack if live was especially tough) but now I have to think of a different pudding and what if it is higher in calories or worse, one of the foods that sends me spiralling and causes me to empty the treat drawer in the food cupboard down my gullet?

I must not think of the personal cost however. All that matters is that I raise money for Scope. The totaliser currently stands at an amazing 0% of the way to the target. Never fear though. The Universe has a funny way of making things happen. For example if I die this week, then a nation, united in grief, will donate money in my memory and we'll exceed the total ten fold. Also if I die that will make not eating Soleros a lot easier. Though I suspect grieving fans might place them on my grave and melted Solero might seep through the earth and go into my mouth, negating all my hard work.

It says something about my Solero addiction that that seems quite an appealing prospect right now. At least I'd get to taste those sweet, sweet Soleros. Though I'd require a coffin with a sieve like lid I suppose. I'll let to planning my burial just in case. Perhaps a funnel leading directly to my open mouth would be the best way to do it, with a sign saying "Insert Soleros here".

I am now thinking that the best thing to do might be to fake my death, get buried and eat all the Soleros in the world. I could use the funnel as a breathing tube. The only danger being that the grief stricken public will fill the funnel to the top and I will drown in Solero. Which is a good way to go. But when the subterfuge is discovered and the public find out I wasn't dead at all, though am now, I think the mood will shift against me, which might affect charity donations. So for now at least, I must stay strong. Two days? Are you fucking kidding me. At least this is a better way to prolong my life than taking out all my plasma (or whatever that translucent skinned billionaire is up to now) - no Soleros turns every day into a life time.

Save me from dying, or faking my own death or faking my own death and then drowning in melted Solero by donating here. Though it would make for a great wikipedia entry if that's how I go.

8092?/21023?

I think actually 8106/21027 - what do you think? That's a lot of mislabelled entries!

I don't know who I am any more. What do numbers even mean if we can't rely on those numbers?

RHLSTP is back. I mean it literally never goes away, but I sometimes get ahead with recording them and don't have to do them for a bit.

It's only a couple of months since I was last at the Leicester Square Theatre, but it feels like longer, but again the Herring Otter slipped right back into the water and it was like it'd never been away.

Booking this show continues to be the bane of my life, but doing it is always so much fun. Tonight saw the start of the 31st series of this show and every now and then I consider whether it's time to hang up my podcasting hat (I mean I'll always do the ones that make no money, obviously), but I think I'll probably let you all make that decision for me. Who knows what adventures we'll get up to between now and when it becomes unprofitable.

The guests were internet satirists Larry and Paul (who have been doing some amazing work) and crossword compiler Dave Gorman, who looks like the result of Larry and Paul getting into the same teleportation pod. My favourite RHLSTPs are the ones where we just get chatting about something and that reminds one or other of us about something or we go off on a flight of comedic fancy, until it finally slams into a cliff and dies. There was loads of both tonight. And a couple of bits we had to cut. So when you hear these shows and what we put out, imagine how offensive the stuff we edit out must be!

Or come and see it live and don't miss a libellous word. Next one is 15th Feb in Leicester, but in the afternoon so you can travel in and home again pretty easily wherever you live (maybe not if you're in Scotland or Australia).

I also got to watch episode one of the new series of Modern Life is Goodish today (which has been off air for 7 years, amazingly) and it's just as good as it ever was, covering lots of ground but tying it all up neatly in a Dave Gorman chequered bow by the end. I am also reading the Centrist Dad Handbook for the Book Club this week and I think it's fair to say that both Dave and I qualify. We had quite a long discussion about how we deal with or avoid single use plastic and how neither of our wives share our passion. My favourite glimpse into the life of the Gormans is that Dave uses those little washing machine sheets to do washes as they involve no plastic, but his wife uses pods.

Whilst the glimpse you get into the Herring household is that no one else cares about recycling all the plastic bags and soft peel off lids from food containers or packaging stuff or sweet wrappers so I go through all the bins and collect it up. You can recycle it all at supermarkets, but North Herts Council is starting a scheme to collect it with the bins. However so far only our old village is part of the scheme, not Hitchin, so I tend to take up bags full of plastic every time I go to the village and put them in the bin there. It's the only good thing about not yet having sold our old house. I have two recycling bins. All in all the convenience of that probably doesn't make up for paying two mortgages and two sets of bills, but it's something.