OK. I couldn’t resist any longer. Scoble’s recent post about this killer Google Reader application forced me to sign up for yet another pointless, short-lived, social network, Web 2.0 application - Facebook. I was keen to preserve my ‘Johnny Come Lately’ status and was relieved to find, coincidentally, that Donncha had signed up just ahead of me so I am now confirmed as the very last person in the world to sign up for Facebook. ...

The 80’s pop star - Prince - simultaneously delighted both his fans and horrified the music industry with his shock inclusion of a disposable CD with a leading (shurely shome mishtake) UK Sunday newspaper. Norman Brightside, an avid Daily Mail reader, was absolutely delighted with the complimentary inclusion of ‘Planet Earth’ with his £1.40 Mail on Sunday. ‘I simply love ‘The Artiste Formerly Known As Prince’. Whenever I get invited to a fancy dress or themed party, guess who I always go as ? With this latest gift from The King (geddit?), we really are ‘going to party like it is 1999’. I had heard a rumour that his latest CD would cost £8.99 and include a free copy of the Daily Mail but this surpasses all my expectations. Let’s go crazy !’ ‘I am hosting a dinner party on December 18. Normally, I like to get things underway with some David Gray, bread-sticks and dips followed by Dire Straits and amusingly shaped carrots that resemble human genitalia. However, this free copy of ‘Planet Earth’ will make an ideal ice-breaker and help initiate stimulating conversation for at least 3 minutes.’ ...

Lyrics plugin for Media Player and Winamp. Although you will spoil the Reading festival for your immediate neighbour with your loud, tuneless, intoxicated karaoke at least you will know the words.

Last Thursday, I enjoyed an superbly entertaining taxi ride back from LHR. Unusually, the taxi driver wasn’t waiting for me at the meeting point. I called the taxi company and was told he was ‘3 minutes away’. He was actually 10 minutes away but, to be fair, he was extremely apologetic when he arrived. The driver was a rather tall, imposing, Indian gentleman. Once in the car, he immediately got into a protracted and increasingly heated argument with the dispatcher about the address for his next drop-off. The dispatcher insisted the location was ‘Surbiton’ with no address. Not unreasonably, the driver argued that he needed an exact address. ...

Didn’t take long. Please welcome Roland, err, Bianchi.