Some girls are bigger than others; some girls' mothers are bigger than other girls' mothers...

I like hearing stories about other people's lives; ordinary, extraordinary.

I've been working on the web for years and yet, despite my friends' protestations to the contrary, I find it hard to see myself as a netslave. Perhaps Diet Coke really does rot your brain.

The amusement factor of the web is constantly increasing. Well, what are you waiting for?

I lost them before, but I've just re-found my roots. Phew. And guess where they were? In a backpack on top of the wardrobe. Do you think they were trying to get away?

Leap Day coming up. I wonder if I should propose to anyone? And what do these people mean they'll make sure that my significant other won't say no? What are they going to do? Send in the heavies? I'm not sure coercion is a good basis for a marriage proposal...

Tired.

I'm sure it's someone's birthday today. Yes, I know, statistically, it must be. I mean someone I know. But I can't for the life of me remember whose. Anyway, if you read this and realise it was you, please bear in mind that it;s the thought that counts...

It's not the same since George left, but Anthony is still a babe, and to be frank, I just like the rushing round in paper gowns. Wednesday nights, 9pm, I'm there - unless I've managed to persuade the wonderful Dave to tape it for me (again).

This site allows you to compare search engine hit counts in the form of bar charts - sounds dorky, and, well, it is. But kinda cool.

What is a backie? How much is an Archer? Who is your marra? This nicely presented dictionary of British slang terms is a useful resource, covering all corners of the UK and giving the history, context and meaning behind some of the most (and least) common slag terms in the UK.

There was this guy who lived down the street from me: Luke. He and his brother Tim used to break open a cardboard box and bust some moves on the street corner to the sound of a phat beat. They tried to teach me to swan-dive. I broke my nose. It was 1982. Life was good.

p.s. NB, I'm not even acknowledging V.D.

Madness. Sheer madness. There is a theory that people visiting a foreign country generally have an irresistable urge to say something in the indigenous tongue. In most cases, however, the best a person can do is "Where is the bathroom?" or "Honestly officer; I didn't know it was there," phrases that mark them as a tourist. But, if one says "I can eat glass, it doesn't hurt me," the speaker will be viewed as an insane native, and treated with dignity and respect. That's the theory, anyway. Oh and kids?...Don't try this at home.

If 100 monkeys were sat at 100 computers for 100 years, would they ever produce a web site as bizarre as this? Actually, yes. They probably would. This is an example of the weirdness of web technology - a random text generator that spits out lines of gibberish. The idea is that you watch it, and if you see any gems of sense embedded in the mire, do a screen grab and send it to the site's creators, who will respond by chucking banana peel at you and going "eeek! eeek!". Probably.

I really really hate it when people "misuse" quotation marks. It's so very very irritating. Especially when there's absolutely "no need" to use them. You can drive an editorially-minded person insane by simply inserting quotation marks wherever "you" want to. This morning I got a letter which said I could "win" £5,000. So I told them to get "stuffed."

Anybody resident in the UK and old enough to sit upright in front of a telly in the early eighties might remember The Adventure Game, which involved contestants (including Bonnie Langford, Johnny Ball, Richard Stilgoe and Keith Chegwin. That was the A-List back then, wasn't it?) solving riddles set by a cheeseplant, or something. And then dealing with a not-very-scary climax to the show: the vortex, which could only be beaten by a green cheese roll. Ah, how surreal.

I remember being immensely frustrated that the school careers advisor thought I (and every other teenage girl) should be a nurse. Boy, how wrong he was.

Poor taste. And it smells bad too.

I don't think I've ever really counted myself as a fan; I just like what I like. Although, now I come to think about it, I did go through a phase of thinking that I could marry a certain pop star. Hey, I was eleven.

(If you want to know who it was, tell me why you need to know and I'll see...)