TEN FIRSTS
First Best Friend: Ally Leaver
First pet: Never had one
First Piercing: Again, none.
First Crush: If I said I don't remember, would anyone believe me?
First Car: Ahem. *points to date of birth*
First Love: *Gazes a short way up the page*
First Stuffed Animal: A little pink and white elephant with a rattle inside it. I've still got it!

NINE LASTS
Last Beverage: Orange Juice
Last Vehicle Ride: Train back from Kew Gardens last night.
Last Movie Seen: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
Last Phone Call: To friend Jay
Last CD Played: Andrew Lloyd Webber - Phantom of the Opera
Last Bubble Bath: A while ago, I prefer to shower.
Last Time You Cried: VERY NEARLY last night. A few weeks back.

EIGHT HAVE YOU EVERS
Have you ever dated one of your best friends: Yeep!
Have you ever been arrested: Nope
Have you ever skinny dipped: NOOOO!
Have you ever been on TV: I'm pretty sure I have.
Have you ever kissed someone and then regretted it: No
Have you ever had a sex dream about someone you know: What a weird question, no one would admit that here anyway!

SEVEN THINGS YOU'RE WEARING
1. Old faithful jeans
2. Black t-shirt
3. Locket Necklace
4. Jade bracelet
5. Erm... underwear?

HOLD IT, I'M JUST GONNA PUT SOME EXTRA LAYERS ON

6. Corpse bride hoodie
7. stripey odd socks

SIX THINGS YOU'VE DONE TODAY
1. Woken up
2. Eaten lunch
3. Got annoyed at Jack
4. Eaten two chocolate biscuits
5. Typed up this blog entry
6. Wandered around in eternal misery

FIVE FAVORITE THINGS IN NO ORDER
1. Chocolate
2. Les Misèrables
3. Friends
4. A certain someone... *looks up again*
5. Singing

FOUR PEOPLE YOU CAN TELL ANYTHING TO
1. My neck's starting to hurt. *Points up*
2. My Grandma
3. Abby
4. Spiders. Don't ask.

THREE CHOICES
1. Eat or drink: Drink
2. Blonde or brunette: Brunette
3. Pink or black: Black

TWO THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE
1. Perform in the West End.
2. Get married.

ONE THING YOU REGRET
1. Nothing, cause in every sci-fi series there is an episode where the main character goes back in time, changes stuff, and watches the consequences of their actions. So, if I'd done anything differently, my life could be something else entirely. No WAY am I changing anything!

A Cal-Poly Engineer's Anti-Santa Proof

There are approximately two billion children (persons under 1 in the world. However, since Santa does not visit children of Muslim, Hindu, Jewish or Buddhist (except maybe in Japan) religions, this reduces the workload for Christmas night to 15% of the total, or 378 million (according to the population reference bureau). At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that comes to 108 million homes, presuming there is at least one good child in each. Santa has about 31 hours of Christmas to work with,thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 967.7 visits per second. This is to say that for each Christian household with a good child, Santa has around 1/1000 th of a second to park the sleigh, hop out, jump down the chimney, fill the stocking, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left for him, get back up the chimney, jump into the sleigh and get onto the next house.

Assuming that each of these 108 million stops is evenly distributed around the earth (which, of course, we know to be false, but will accept for the purposes of our calculations), we are now talking about 0.78 miles per household; a total trip of 75.5 million miles, not counting bathroom stops or breaks. This means Santa's sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second--3,000 times the speed of sound. For purposes of comparison, the fastest man made vehicle, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a poky 27.4 miles per second, and a conventional reindeer can run (at best) 15 miles per hour.

The payload of the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium sized LEGO set (two pounds), the sleigh is carrying over 500 thousands tons, not counting Santa himself. On land, a conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting that the "flying" reindeer can pull 10 times the normal amount, the job can't be done with eight or even nine of them---Santa would need 360,000 of them. This increases the payload, not counting the weight of the sleigh, another 54,000 tons, or roughly seven times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth (the ship, not the monarch).

600,000 tons traveling at 650 miles per second creates enormous air resistance - this would heat up the reindeer in the same fashion as a spacecraft reentering the earth's atmosphere. The lead pair of reindeer would adsorb 14.3 quintillion joules of energy per second each. In short, they would burst into flames almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them and creating deafening sonic booms in their wake. The entire reindeer team would be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second, or right about the time Santa reached the fifth house on his trip.

Not that it matters, however, since Santa, as a result of accelerating from a dead stop to 650 m.p.s.in .001 seconds, would be subjected to acceleration forces of 17,000 g's. A 250 pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim) would be pinned to the back of the sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force, instantly crushing his bones and organs and reducing him to a quivering blob of pink goo. Therefore, if Santa did exist, he's dead now.

Heya, this is me feeling very emotionally inspired to write something after watching a particularly good episode of a particuularly good tv show.

BEWARE OF SPOILERS!!!

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Okay, two weeks ago, Orson's mother Gloria convinced Olma that Orson still loved her, and persuaded her to drug Orson and... well, let's just say that Gloria REALLY wants a grandchild.

Last week, Evil Hag Gloria locked Olma in the attic to keep her out of the way. Then she set up Orson's wife Bree to have an near fatal fall.

At the same time, Mike is having hypnotherapy to restore his memory, and remembers the night Orson's ex-girlfriend Monique died, and finally remembers that Orson was there and acting VERY suspiciously. So, to solve the problem, Mike pushes Orson off the very VERY high roof of the hospital. Orson plummets, and the episode ends with a sinister, "To Be Continued...".

THIS week, we are awarded the truth of Monique's death (i.e. Evil Hag Gloria killed her and Orson covered up for it). Orson's fall is broken by a tree, and then the nice soft concrete ground, conveniently next to an ambulance team, and obviously right outside the hospital. Everyone thinks it was suicide. The Evil Hag Gloria decides to pay Bree a little "visit" when she is released from hospital. At the same time, Olma manages to escape through the attic window, but falls off the roof and successfully spears herself on a nice comfy branch. Ouch.

Shock Horror, The E.H. Gloria tries to kill Bree and make it look like suicide. Bree's son Andrew gets home and gets greeted by a stick making contact with his head at a high speed. In the nick of time, Orson escapes from hospital, and knocks the knife out of E.H.G's hand. Orson rescues Bree, and Gloria has a stroke. Keen to get the body out of his house, Orson takes Gloria back to Olma's, only to find Olma in a fairly deceased condition in her front garden. Orson leavers EHG next to her. In Olma's house, he leaves a forged suicide note saying she killed herself because she murdered Monique, and with her he leaves the bag of Monique's teeth that EHG pulled out to prevent Monique from being identified.

So, case closed: The next morning, a neighbour finds the two bodies. Olma commited suicide, and her mother-in-law found her and had a stroke at the sight. The suicide note proves that Monique's killer is deceased, so therefore MIke is innocent. It's a win-win situation. (Apart from the Evil Hag, who is left completely paralysed though with a fully functioning brain, so she will sit around for the rest of her life and remember. And she can't talk, so therefore cannot release the truth.)

And so, Orson and Bree will live happily ever after. Yaaaaay!

Sorry about that - rant over.