:: Twunted ::

It was all looking so good. I had a delicious assortment of web-goodies to proffer my dwindling readership...
...then some demented cNut managed to knock the plug out from my computer. So it's going to have to be a lame review of the week, I suppose.

I hope that since the joyous engagement of Hypatia and Taxloss, we won't be treated to a combined orthopaedically challenged "Hyploss" blog. In some things at least, I believe the members of a couple should retain their independence.

Talking of which, the pitchfork-brandishing, banner-blazing refuseniks of UKIP, led by an Arab-hating Tangerine made their mark on the recent elections. The Indy reminded us of some sobering reasons why may not be such a good idea.

Across the pond, the recent findings of the 9-11 Commission - and Dubya's denial of wrongdoing only serve to vindicate Terry Jones in his article on torturing children.

And as the media maelstrom continues over brawling contestants on Big Brother, US TV execs reaveal their new strategy for coping with dwindling audience figures. With a large number of high-profile long-running money-spinners finishing in the last year, the major networks seem to be running on empty.

Back to matters domestic. Most Londoneers I know seem to be transport-obsessed: little wonder, with a rickety old system that struggles to get us to work each morning, you cry! In truth, the problem is more about the regularity of things going wrong - signal failures and the ominous announcements about "passenger action" - and the inability to deal with them quickly in rush-hour. It can surprising how quick and effective the tube can be when all is running smoothly. This preoccupation with the London underground manifests itself in some off-beat ways - from parties on the Circle Line, to maps designed for the claustrophobic or those who wish to bypass gaggles of camera-clutching tourists on their way to work. You can buy one of those here if you're so inclined. You can even check out bloggers by tube station and find out the temperature on your prospective journey.

I shall be shunning the delights of public transport this evening, as I head to a posh boozy dinner by taxi with Feline Fatale (she's wearing a ballgown, dontcha know?). So I'd better leave you with details of one of the more worrying current give-away promotions.