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Yet again. Delightful.

My love affair with higgidy pies continues. Look at this. Charming.

My favourite newspaper article this weekend. Dear Lucy Mangan. I thank you for brightening my Saturday.

I saw a cracking show last night. Wall of Death by the National Theatre of Scotland. For those of you unfamiliar with the fairground attraction, motorcyclists crazily race around the innards of a vertical drum at marvellously horizontal angles. The NTS have kidnapped one of the last touring troupes of “Wall of Death-ers” and built a bit of show around them.

This isn’t the place for theatre pedantry so I shan’t muse on how successfully it serves up a theatrical experience. But there’s a nice little storyline knitting it together: performance artist Stephen Skrynka sets himself the challenge of learning to ride the wall. There’s a dollop of history: how the wall first came about and then survived the ensuing years. And there’s charisma in spadeloads from head of the troupe, Ken Fox, his brave (and beautiful) two sons and oldest son’s fiancé, super cool (ex horse-riding instructor!) Kerri Cameron. And then the shamefully visceral thrill of whether or not they’ll topple when they take to the Wall itself.

It’s an hour long. It’s on at the Royal Highland Centre. Two shows a night at 6:30 and 8:30 til Friday and then a few scattered over the weekend. And then that’s it. They’ll set off on their touring way again. It’s lovely stuff. If you can’t make the show, check out Gary Margerum’s photos here (one of which I stole to sit here - thanks, Gary). But if you’ve ever had an inkling to run away and join the circus, could be best to avoid them…

My recycling obsession is reaching absurd new heights. My fourth floor colleagues can testify to the misery that I rain down on them if they carelessly print a document single-sidedly, the fun I have watching them trying to work the printer in the mornings as I’ve turned it off the night before and the wrath induced by the ultimate cardinal sin of binning the IRN-BRU can rather than washing, squashing, recycling the cheerfully coloured little fellow.

But (and hold your breath, readers for this is shameful) I’ve just taken an old paper cup, purchased from my local organic wholesome coffee shop, back into the shop to be replenished with a new latte. Not only that but I carefully circled the cup in advance with a little cardboard hoop that stops you burning your hands. This from Starbucks. The ultimate absurdity is that the cup itself from my local organic shop is some super dooper container that is entirely made from recycled materials and is then fully compostable. Really, I deserved it to dissolve in my hands on refilling.

But you can not say that I am not living Ernie the elephant’s dream.

Lovely iPhone app from Tiger Beer (and Dazed and Confused) directing you to bars / restaurants stocking Tiger in Chinatown to help you celebrate Chinese New Year. In a nod to the provinces, you can find out what’s goin’ down in a further 8 big cities. Sadly, down to a certain IT manager, I’m not able to experience the wonder of the app myself. But to my in-iPhone-experienced eye, it looks like very smart thinking.

A twelve day blogging absence when I’ve been at work for most of those days isn’t really acceptable I’d suggest. So for this, apologies. I can only blame busy-ness. A feeble excuse I know.

So apologies for being a little late in the day to draw your attention to this rather superb campaign just produced for Know The Score. Bundles of research with 18 to 24 year olds, the biggest users (mostly) of cocaine, demonstrated that:

- they were, by and large, blasé about the dangers of cocaine
- the only health risk that they took half seriously was the possibility of cocaine causing a stroke
- telling them that they might have a stroke as a sole advertising message was felt to be stretching credibility
- but presented as part of a handful of effects, some familiar and others (self-evidently) less so, built belief in the possibility and so encouraged them to question their previous perceptions

Six months of research in six lines.

Chris and David have done an absolutely cracking job with the creative. Thanks to them and to Gillian for her ever patient, pro-active and positive account handling. Judge the end result for yourselves here. And be sure to listen to the digital ads for spotify. I’m a bit biased - but they are magic.

My kind of place. Shame they’re (for the time being) in Amsterdam.

I was cheered to read that Simon Cowell is planning to harness his tremendous (hmm, now I can’t think of a word) sales machine (?) to help the poor two million and counting earthquake devastated people in Haiti. Until I dove into the article and noticed that this wasn’t necessarily his very own idea. He was, in fact, approached by the PM and asked to so do. And who would say no to that? That would be like saying no to the master. You just wouldn’t.

Luckily for us, we have our very own (but more proactive) Simon Cowell within these very walls. The lovely Claire P is organising a cake sale for tomorrow to raise some money. So do feel free to bake, bring and buy. Alternatively, if you don’t have time for such sugar-infested niceties, go straight to the DEC. Don’t say I didn’t make it easy for you.

Have yourselves a little look at this. Britain Thinks. Peculiarly mysterious as to who’s behind it. My vote goes to a political party…