Catch Up

Hello. How have you been? Have you missed me the way that I missed you? 

The others? They mean nothing to me. You're my favourite

Sorry I've been so slack recently but it's not you, it's me. Real life's been getting in the way again. I don't make life complicated, it just seems to get that way all by itself. 

The new draft of 'Stuck Between Stations' has been completed and sent off to the producer. Let's see if he has any ideas on how to actually make it good. 

Now I think it's time to concentrate on my Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse sitcom. 

Or start work on that novel.

Or think of a really funny post for this blog. I think I probably owe you one. 

Or form a band. I've still got the moves:

Yes. It is inflatable. And so is the guitar.

Or just have a shower. It's only half five in the morning and already I'm sweating like Michael Jackson's doctor.

Harsh, but fair.

But mostly harsh. 

Thought For The Day.

America is the only country on Earth where someone born a poor black boy can die a rich white woman. 

That is all. 

Official Declaration of my Greatness

There. It's official. I am the World's Greatest Dad. I've got a mug to prove it and I'll wave it in the faces of social services if they come knocking. "You can't take them away! I have crockery and we all know that crockery is objective!"

It has also been seconded by the coaster it came with.

Pinko Liberal Writing Competition

If, unlike me, you're not a pinko-bed-wetting-bleeding-heart-white-male-middle-class-guilt-ridden-Guardian-reading-liberal you may not have noticed the writing competition the pinko-bed-wetting-bleeding-heart-white-male-middle-class-guilt-ridden-Guardian appears to be running. 

Every year, the pinko-bed-wetting-bleeding-heart-white-male-middle-class-guilt-ridden-Guardian Weekend magazine publishes an annual summer short story edition. Normally these are written by established pinko-bed-wetting-bleeding-heart-white-male-middle-class-guilt-ridden-Guardian-reading-liberal authors.

But this year, they will publish a story written by a pinko-bed-wetting-bleeding-heart-white-male-middle-class-guilt-ridden-Guardian-reader. It can be on any theme, must be unpublished and no longer than 2,000 words. Full details can be found here 

Sorry. I appear to have been channelling the spirit of Richard Littlejohn in that post. 

Dave's World of Sport

The sun is out and it's a weekend of sport.

I have a very narrow definition of what constitutes a sport. It came about after a very long afternoon in the pub and much debate and compromise with friends:

"If you can play it professionally wearing slacks, it's not a sport. It's a pastime."

Golf? Pastime. Snooker? Pastime. Darts? Pas-fuckin'-time.

Much to the annoyance of some friends and family, this means that cricket is not technically a sport. Or much fun to watch. Only the English could invent a game that lasts for five days and still result in a draw. The only thing it has going for it is the opportunity to drink outside without feeling like a tramp.

Formula One is just as bad. There's something wrong when what goes on behind the scenes is far more interesting than what actually happens on the track. And I can't understand the way people support a company (though, I suppose, what's the difference between supporting Ferrari or Manchester United these days? They're both multi-national corporations.)

Question for Formula One fans. When I watch Newcastle United play, I wear a replica top. When you watch racing, do you sit on your sofa wearing a flame retardant suit?

(For some, the family curse is webbed toes or the haunted castle in Bavaria. The Turner family curse is having to support Newcastle United. Seriously, if I changed allegience, I'm out of my father's will)

Brian Blessed In Your Pocket

New from David P. Turnerberger III Enterprises.

The Brian-Blessed-In-Your-Pocket! Comes with 5 phrases:

1. "I'M BRIAN BLESSED!"

2. "SLIT THEIR GIZZARDS!"

3. "HAWKMEN! DIIIIIIIVE!!!"

4. "YOU'VE WON! LET HIM DIE!"

And of course:

5. "GORDON'S ALIVE!"

All lovingly rendered at 140 decibels.

Impress your friends! Annoy your neighbours! Worry your pets!

If I can get the funding, I reckon we could have it in the shops by Christmas. Who wants one?

Phrases designed in conjunction with Anton and Rob Stickler.

'Lost' Masterclass

I don't know about you but, personally, I gave up on 'Lost' about half way through the first series when I suddenly realised that they had no idea where they were going with the programme.

Then I caught a documentary/puff piece about the last season finale on Sky 1 and it looks like it's gone completely insane and got a hell of a lot more fun. It's even got time travel paradoxes which, as we all know, are my favourite kind of paradox. I might start watching again.

Anyway, if you're going to the Screenwriters' Festival (and, if not, why not?), there's an opportunity to take part in Masterclasses with Carlton Cuse, Damon Lindelof and the gloriously named Jack Bender (have fun at passport control, Jack!)

It's at BAFTA on 3rd July and the full details are here.

Continuing the juvenile giggling at peoples' names, did I always read the credits on Buffy correctly and the music was composed by a Thomas Wanker?

That Iraq War Report In Full

The government announced that an independent inquiry on the war in Iraq is to be launched.

Though they have confirmed that the results will not be released until 2010, I can reveal that it investigation has already been completed by somebody close to the current administration and that I have received a leaked copy of the findings.:

Smashing the Laws of Thermodynamics

Living with 3 kids is hard work. The Better Half and I are always tired, emotional and confused. It's like constantly being drunk, but more expensive.

But that's not stopped my research. Yes, the basic tenets of physics are coming crashing around our ears at Chez Turner.

In the last few weeks, I have created the world's first perpetual motion machine. All you require is a trampoline and 2 toddlers. They. Never. Stop. Bouncing. I've been powering my laptop just through wiring it up to the garden.

But the big news is that I've found the Holy Grail of physical science. The laws of physics state that you can't get more energy out of a system that you put in. When you burn coal, for example, you're not creating energy, you're just converting it into heat.

But I'm pretty sure that Kid C is releasing more stuff from both ends than we're putting in. I've got to do the calculations, but I think with a few thousand new-borns linked together in parallel, I can solve the world's energy crisis.

That's worth a Nobel prize, isn't it? A Grammy at the least.

Where's my column in the Guardian Family section?

A Guide To Parenthood

The flow chart below currently sums up my life. I hope that it's a handy guide for all of you.

Ooh! I'm On Another Website!

As you may or may not know, I'm off to the Screenwriters' Festival in October.

On their very informative website, they're running a "Why I Write Where I Write" column.

And they've put my submission on it! OK, I also put it on here ages ago but if you never read it here, you can read it here.

As you can understand, I'm pretty swamped at the moment, but I'll get onto a proper post soon.

It will have flow charts.

Once I figure out how to do them.

Woo.

The Day Today

I visit the BNP website so you don't have to. There, I noticed a little icon titled "Careers".

Well, I had to click on that, didn't I? And there's an application form. An application form that contains these questions:

'Nationality' and 'Do you need a work permit to be employed in the UK?'. Please note that if the BNP are successful in our grasp for power, we'd reward your hard work by returning you to Daygo or Bongo-Bongo Land.

If you don't believe me, the link to the site is here. Now, remember this is a link to the BNP's site so it's not going to be Safe For Work. Nor Safe For Rational Thought. 

I'm still not sure under what guise to apply for a job. Maybe we should all do that and waste some more of their time. Then, in 6 months time, demand to see the applications under the Freedom of Information Act. They'll probably have binned them. Then we can all trot off to the Information Commissioner. 

I'm off out in a little while to take advantage of my democratic rights. I hope that you do too. A right that the BNP would like to deny you, though they claim to be the most democratic political party (and I use the term "political party" incorrectly).

What they really think is:

"What we urgently need, and must have to survive, is very much less democracy, a very much smaller, more carefully selected and more intelligent electorate... Granting a vote to each and every one of the natives of Britain was madness... Lunacy could hardly go further!" (Internal BNP Document that I read up on here)

I presume "a very much smaller, more carefully selected and more intelligent electorate" translates as "our thick-necked mates".

One For the Drunks Amongst You

Today's handy hint will save you both time AND money.

So, you've been out for a few drinks and, if you're anything like me when I was single, you're going home alone. It's their loss. Plenty more fish in the sea. And you enjoy staying up watching "Dr. Strangelove" in your cold, lonely bed. Sorry, I may be dragging up some personal issues.

You want some food and you need to get a taxi back home.

Simply go into a pizza takeway, order a pizza for home delivery and then hitch a lift with the delivery man to your house. 

Take that moneysavingexpert.com!!!

I Can Double Your Productivity!

I'm a very busy man at the moment. In between feeds, entertaining Kids A & B and my chores, I'm trying to get two scripts finished and get something together to show Red Planet. 

Even finding time to eat is a problem. I wanted a Flake and I wanted a doughnut. But I don't have time to eat one after the other. What's a boy to do?

There. I doubled my productivity. Effective time management can be yummy!