Disappointing demo

On Thursday I went to a sleepout to raise awareness about destitute asylum seekers. Unfortunately I decided to leave before too long. It wasn't because I'm not brave enough to face sleeping on the streets on a bitterly cold winter's night. (I'm not, but it wasn't that cold.) It was because the event was poorly organised. Now, there's a difference between an event being disorganised and poorly organised. And this sleepout was the latter. There had obviously been a meeting sometime before to discuss the sleepout, in some office somewhere. There was undoubtedly a brainstorming session, and a person with a dry-wipe pen poised to write ideas down on flipchart paper.

But it seems they came up with great ideas like having a piece of absurdist theatre to highlight the plight of asylum seekers.

Now, I'm all for getting together and holding hands and telling each other how great we are because we care, but I don't think it's particularly productive if the aim was to raise awareness about destitute asylum seekers. Most of us there were just standing around doing nothing. We could have been handing out leaflets, or holding banners, or making some noise, or something. Instead we were standing around like lemons.

Another problem is that the people there didn't seem that well informed about the issue either (not that I am particularly), so the few discussions which did take place seemed to go like this:

Demonstrator: Having asylum seekers in destitution is bad.
Member of public: Why?
Demonstrator: Because it is.
Member of public: How many destitute asylum seekers are there?
Demonstrator: Lots.

So, just in case you were wondering, here are some facts about asylum seekers.

• There are an estimated 280,000 failed asylum seekers living in the UK without any access to public funds.
• Around 80% of these come from eight countries: Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, Somalia, Eritrea, Zimbabwe, the DRC and another country which I've forgot.
• Between 2006 and this year, the High Court decided it was illegal to forcefully deport people to Zimbabwe because it was too dangerous for them. However, during this period, the Home Office still rejected 10,000 asylum claims from Zimbabweans because it felt it was safe enough to return home. These thousands of people have been living in the UK without any access to public funds.
• The Red Cross has labelled the treatment of failed asylum seekers in the UK as a 'humanitarian crisis'.

And here's a good video about the issue:

Still Human Still Here - Refused asylum seekers in the UK. from panos pictures on Vimeo.

Red Cross

As I mentioned in a previous post, I've started volunteering for the Red Cross. As a part of this, I've had to do several sessions of training. As of this week, I've finished. Hooray!

I must admit, some of the training sessions were more interesting than others. Unfortunately, there was also a bit of a problem with one or two other people on the course. In particular, there was one who achieved to slow down the entire proceedings by repeatedly asking unnecessary questions, debating Red Cross policy, and otherwise giving her opinion when it wasn't asked for. My patience was definitely tested.

I've also done a few sessions of actually volunteering. And it's been really good, although it's been quite emotionally draining. I work in the refugee unit helping refugees and asylum seekers, and some of the stories are very sad. Unfortunately, I'm a person who is liable to get a bit emotional. I cry when reading sad books. I cry when watching sad films. When I was a child, I cried watching Bambi. And The Lion King. I even got teary eyed at Casper the CGI whiney voiced ghost.

So when I have people telling me about the terrible things that have happened in their lives, or I read a case file about someone with a tragic past, or I see injustice in the way a case gets handled, I've been finding myself getting a little emotional. But I think that's good in a way. It motivates me to do more. It's difficult when I know I can't do something to help someone, but it also means I feel satisfaction from small things which help people, and relief from a little bit of good news. And that's not such a bad thing.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

Today is my birthday! And, because it was my birthday, I've had a very exciting weekend. Of course, all my weekends are exciting.

My exciting life

I've actually had quite a nice day. Relaxing and quiet. I've also eaten lots of birthday related food.

A balanced diet...

My lovely flatmates bought me a cake and some chocolate, so I blame them for my unhealthy diet today. But actually, I've had quite a busy week. I went to the opera for the first time on Monday. I was worried I was going to be bored to tears.

But, it was really enjoyable, and I would definitely go again. It was such a nice experience overall. I felt very posh.

That's all for now, just a few quick questions.

1. What would be your perfect birthday?
2. Have you done anything recently for the first time recently?
3. What sort of posh things do you do?

Bad mood

Usually I'm a very happy person. That's mainly because I'm blissfully oblivious to the world around me.

That was one crazy afternoon.

But I must confess that today I was in a bit of a grump. There wasn't any reason why I was in such a bad mood. But that just makes it worse, because I get annoyed with myself for being grumpy for no reason, and it becomes a vicious cycle of murderous rage.

So before long, I become a miserable misanthropist who finds even the kindest gesture an insult to humanity.

Someone started chatting to me on Facebook, and I resented this person for no reason whatsoever. I was on Facebook, and online, so I had no right to be annoyed with anyone for talking to me. But I was. So if you're reading this and thinking, yes, I was being a bit of a moron today, I apologise.

But, I ate some chocolate and spoke to my brother so I am now happy again. Plus, my friend sent me this video, which made my heart smile. Unless it was angina.

Which picture best represents your life?

At Christian Union yesterday, we did an activity where you answered a questionnaire using a set of pictures instead of using words. So you'd have a question like, How do you feel about your life at the moment? and a set of generic pictures like:

It was surprisingly interesting and thought-provoking. It's the sort of thing that counsellors ask clients to do to think about their lives. My brother and I were talking about the sort of pictures we would use if we were counsellors. We decided we'd use pictures which were subtly (or not so subtly) negative, so that we could effectively cater for our market. Pictures like:

And if any clients expressed surprise about the choice of pictures, we'd just reply, 'You're at a counsellor's office, what did you expect?' Or, alternatively, 'And how does that make you feel?'

Quick Questions

1. Which picture best describes your life at the moment?
2. Do you think I'd make a good counsellor?
3. How does that make you feel?

Surviving a First Aid course

I went on a first aid course this week. I will confess that I was somewhat nervous. There were three reasons for this:

#1 Responsibility scares me

I find it difficult remembering my own name* and anything else which is remotely connected to real life. Once a friend asked me for my telephone number, which I duly gave her. But the number wasn't mine: it was another friend's. I'm sure my friends thought I was trying to matchmake. It didn't work out either way. I also forget my brother's birthday even though we're twins. Having responsibility for someone else's life is terrifying.

This conversation actually happened. It really didn't help.

#2 I have an aversion to exercise

The idea of doing five minutes of chest compressions disturbs me. If I ever have to do it to someone in real life, I'll be expecting at least a thank you card. A box of chocolates wouldn't go amiss either.

#3 I faint

I have an ability to faint at a moment's notice. I faint at injections. I faint in hot classrooms. I faint when treading on something sharp in the garden. In other words, I faint. This and first aid don't go well together. In fact, at the last first aid course I went to, I passed out. They showed this video about heart attacks, and I fainted. Way to go, British Heart Foundation.

Ironically, nobody noticed me slouched unconscious in my chair. Or if they did, they obviously decided (quite rightly) that I'd prefer to possibly choke on my tongue and die than face the embarrassment of being pointed out at a first aid meeting.

So all in all, I was pretty nervous. But, thankfully, it went quite well. I didn't pass out even though they showed a video of someone who nearly drowned, which was a plus. And not only did I do about 10 minutes of chest compressions, I also got to do some abdominal thrusts, and got to use a defibrillator. I'd love to use one in real life, just so I can shout, 'Clear!' in my most melodramatic voice. Yes, I take human life very seriously.

*Someone once asked me, 'Is your name John?' to which I replied, 'yes'.

My eggcellent year so far

I hope you've had a great 2011 so far, and what a year it's predicted to be. So far I...

• have had no running water for three consecutive days.
• opened my new 'hi-techpoint' gel pens, to much excitement.
• Spent hours staring at Arabic vocabulary I'm meant to already know.
• had a fight with a teflon coated saucepan. Teflon is my number #2 mortal enemy after clingfilm.

Me and clingfilm don't go together well.

I also went to McDonalds. This was a mistake. I ordered my Happy Meal Big Mac Meal, but because there weren't any chips, the person said he'd bring it over. Except he forgot. Story of my life.

But, it did give me time to peruse the local newspaper, the Islington Gazette. I love local newspapers, they always have such interesting news. Today's edition included the stories:

• Ice skating rink which has been closed since June remains closed.*
• Theives in Tesco have been swapping organic eggs with value eggs.

How eggciting. Surprisingly, the guy who got stabbed only made it to the last few pages. But that's probably because that happened in Holloway, and this is Islington. But, I did get a free apple pie because the McDonalds Man** forgot. It wasn't very big, but yet contained one fifth of my recommended daily fat intake. That information made it all the more satisfying.

On the way out a homeless man asked me if I had any change for food. I said I didn't. I should have given him the apple pie, which was in my pocket at the time.*** But I didn't think of that, because I suffer from concrete thinking. Like the time my girlfriend asked whether she could use my computer to check her emails. She asked whether there was a password to log on. I said no, forgetting you needed a password to access the internet.

So that's my start for 2011. And to finish off, here are some quick questions:

1. How's your 2011 going so far?
2. What are your plans for the year?
3. Can you think of any more terrible egg-related puns?

*Ironically the ice skating rink was closed because the ice wouldn't freeze. For the last month, I don't know why they didn't just open the doors.
**His name was George, but I prefer to think of him as Ronald. I think I'm now going to call every cashier at McDonalds 'Ronald'.
***Doesn't that sound like a crude euphemism? Is that an apple pie in your pocket, or...

Why I'm destined for a life of poverty

For Christmas, some of my relatives gave me money instead of a present, because I've told everyone I know how desperately poor I am and how I've only enough money to eat extra value pasta and free samples from the cheese counter (if you donate just £2 a week...). Some of them gave me the money in cheque form. Unfortunately, cheques require going to the bank. This is where my problems started.

It began well. I looked up my nearest branch on the internet, and I set off with the cheques. When I got to the bank, I was a bit confused. Unlike a normal branch with the cash desks where you get to speak to a human being, there was one desk and lots of computers. After standing in two different queues for different types of computers, I finally found the queue for the podiums for paying in cheques. The large 'pay in cheques' sign on the wall above them was a bit of a give away, even if it took me ten minutes to notice it.

But things got worse. The instructions on the screen were rather vague.

I knew I needed to fill in one of those paying in slips. But in the process of trying to follow the instructions on the screen and the thought 'I need to fill in a paying in slip', I ended up putting my cheques and a blank paying in slip into the machine. Obviously, somewhere in my mind, the thought, 'I need to fill in a paying in slip' morphed into 'I've filled in a paying in slip'.*

I had to go to the one desk and queue for ages, just to say to some poor lady, "I'm a complete moron." When I explained my predicament she looked at me as if I was insane (what could have ever led her to think that?) but that if she didn't remain calm, I would visciously attack her with my bare hands.

However, after some computer wizardry, she said that she'd sorted the problem. All's well that ends well. Unless the cheques bounce.

*The technical term for making up memories is confabulation. However, in this case, stupidity is a better explanation.

We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

I haven't blogged in a while because I've been at home, cut off by blizzards of snow, and a three day walk from an internet connection. Well, that's a lie, but there's been some snow, and my computer is in London, so I've had to use my brother's old laptop.

So this is Christmas
Here's a quick lowdown* of what I've done during the Christmas holidays.

1. My lovely girlfriend came for Christmas.

2. My brother, aforementioned girlfriend and I went to Midnight Communion in Minstead (where Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is buried**). It was a bit boring. The vicar, who was a Pope look-a-like, had a rather boring voice and talked nonsense: 'You look into the manger and you see Jesus' face saying, "I want to be your friend."' But he did drink the left-over port rather energetically after Communion.

3. I opened Christmas presents. Said presents included a lot of toiletries. I don't know whether there is a reason for this.

A dramatic reenactment of what happens when I put on aftershave.

4. I ate lots and lots of turkey.

5. I played a lot of bubbleshooter.

6. I went to a birthday party involving scalectrix racing. The person whose birthday it was turned 32 that day, but that didn't mean we didn't have fun eating cake and racing cars. I came last.

7. I ate lots of chocolate, cakes and other food.

...and a happy New Year
Today is New Year's Eve. Every year, according to tradition, our family goes to a party at another family's house. Unfortunately, this year, this family have come down with the flu. So this year I'm not doing any thing for New Year's Eve this year. So instead, I'm going to go to have a hot chocolate and go to bed early.

I am also writing a list of New Year's Resolutions. So far it includes:

1. Write my dissertation and finish my masters.
2. Stop procrastinating.
   
3. Write a novel, have it published, and win the Man Booker Prize.
4. Learn to speak Arabic fluently.
5. Read the entire Bible. In its original languages.
   
6. Find a job.
7. Maybe volunteer abroad. Or get an internship. Win the Nobel Peace Prize for the work I do.
8. Get my own Wikipedia article.

Do you have any other suggestions of what resolutions I should make? Anyway, I shall be off, so Happy New Year to you all!

*Just because it rhymes with 'lowdown'.
** Although he's been dead for more than two hours.

Adult Authority Figure

I haven't posted anything much in a while, but I was just thinking of a conversation children often have with their parents or teachers. It has to be one of the most annoying things an adult can say to a child.

Child: How do you spell catharsis?*

Adult Authority Figure: Look it up in the dictionary.

What is that all about? It's a) completely illogical, b) lazy and c) just an attempt by Adult Authority Figure to hide their ignorance. Another example of parental stupidity is, 'If you fall over and break both your legs, don't come running to me for sympathy.' Actually, from a medical perspective, that could be considered sound advice.

Can you think of any other stupid things parents say to children?

*I was a precocious child.

Grammar Nazi: Or why I don't have friends

I'm a Nazi. A grammar Nazi. When I see a missing apostrophe, a they're/their/there identity crisis or too many dots in an ellipsis (it has three, is that too hard people?), I have a minor heart attack. Unfortunately Facebook is the worst place for grammatical accuracy known to mankind. And also, unfortunately for me, I have the ability to write an obnoxious comment back.

Alas, this unhealthy compulsion isn't restricted to the internet. When I overheard someone say, 'Is brutalness a word?' to a friend, I had to bite my tongue not to turn around and say, 'No, it's brutality you're looking for.' I believe this one of the plethora of reasons that I don't have any friends.

Who'd have known this picture would have come in so handy?

And by the way, the plural of status is statuses, not stati. The same goes for virus.

Quick Questions

1. Which misuse of the English language annoys you the most?
2. Do you have any other pet peeves?
3. Can you be my friend?

Essay Woes

Today I've been trying to write an essay. It's about the 1948 Arab-Israeli War. It all started well. I went to the library and took out four giant books which seemed relevant to the topic. Three of them have 1948 in the title and two of them have the word 'war'. I thought that was a big hint. I took them home, nearly breaking my back in the process, and started to read them. This is where my problems started. I believe I have a concentration span equalling 8.4 seconds. After that, this happens:

And then I try to write the thing. It usually ends up something like this:

If you click it to make it bigger, you'll notice on the taskbar that I googled the lyrics to Rosie and Jim. Don't ask me why.

And then I go and play on bubbleshooter for a bit, so I can 'have creative thoughts'. In fact, I have it saved in my favourites, because I'm cool like that.

Four reasons why people think I'm crazy

Sometimes I get the impression that people think I'm crazy. It took me a while to work out why. But I eventually came up with four reasons why people might assume I've got a screw loose. So here they are.

#1 I talk to myself
And sometimes sing to myself. In public. Which for some people is a sign of insanity. Sometimes I'm not alone, but that means I look like I'm singing at someone, which is worse. And if I happen to be with friends who are also singing, well, that's just insane. I've had people walk away.

This habit is probably the sole reason I want children. Compare:

To:

And you get the idea why.

#2 I have no spatial awareness
This means that I'm constantly tripping over, walking into things and falling into the road. Once I was walking along a street with knee high bollards along the side of the path. I walked into the first one. And then the second. And the third. And I wasn't even drunk. In fact, I've never been drunk. And this is probably why. This, combined with reason one also means that I publicly announce my stupidity.

To make it worse, I've also worked out that often it's just easier to let yourself fall instead of trying to stop it and causing more pain and/or embarrassment. But sometimes this means I crumple to the ground for no reason whatsoever. I once left a building and didn't realise there was a small step between the door and the pavement. I thought I was falling. So I fell to the ground into the foetal position. Embarrassing.

#3 Insects cause me to freak out
If I see an insect, I try to kill it. I wave my arms around as if I'm having some bizarre seizure, whilst screaming 'DIE, YOU CREATURE OF SATAN!' while I'm trying to kill it. But, because of my lack of hand-eye coordination, I always fail to do so. I then realise that the insect may be more successful at hurting me than I am at hurting it. So I beg it for forgiveness.

#4 I stalk people
Only joking! I'm not that crazy.

British Weather

British weather has a bad reputation. In fact, some people say that Britain has the worst weather in the world. There's a really good reason for this. And no, it's not the weather. It's the British. You see, the British love to moan.

Whatever the weather, there's something wrong with it. Even if it's good weather, if it lasts for more than a day, then people start talking of drought and hosepipe bans and ecological distasters of which we have never seen the like of before.

We also like to complain how the country goes into complete chaos whenever it snows. Trains stop running, schools close, people can't get work. It's a disaster. Of course, the reason for this is that the amount of money it would cost to prepare our country for snow, which occurs at most a few weeks of the year if at all, is much better spent on things like hospitals and sewers and things we actually use. When I lived in Spain, they had exactly the same problem, except it was the other way round. Where I lived, it was really really hot and dry most of the time. So when it rained, the streets instantly turned into rivers. Spanish cities have very poor drainage. And why? Because the amount of money it would cost to invest in a good drainage network is more than the benefit it would provide.

And I don't live in a country where drought, hurricanes, blizzards or tornadoes are likely to affect me any time soon.

Anyway, sorry for that rant, and also that I've mentioned the weather three posts in a row.

Snow!

It snowed today here in London. So as I was walking through the blizzard flurry few snowflakes I decided to provide myself with a wintry mental soundtrack, including:

And:

I was also aware of the number of friends I have on Facebook who work in schools due to statuses like this:

Friend 1: Snow Day!
Friend 2: School closed for the day! Woohoo!
Friend 3: Day off work today, school closed. Anyone with a sledge I could borrow?

I on the other hand did not have a snow day. But, my cold water was turned off due to a burst pipe or something. I thought, that's ok, I still have the hot water, I can still have a shower in the morning. Yeah, a 100 degree shower of burning fire. Luckily I realised my logic was flawed before I got into the shower.

But now I have hot water and normality is restored. On a side note, why do we have two nouns for the adjective normal? We have normality and normalcy. I hate normalcy. It was invented by a US President (Warren Harding) and it seems to have stuck. Maybe I've misunderestimated the influence presidents have on a language. But no sane person would refudiate that this is a little wee-wee'd up. See what I did there? Did ya, did ya?

On that note, I think I'll say 'how, for now'.

Bristol Stool Chart

I just received a comment in my last post from an avid reader fan stalker friend who was evidently annoyed that I did not mention a particularly ingenious frape committed jointly by herself and my brother.

Shmead no. 1 has just achieved a Bristol Stool Chart no. 4 with great satisfaction and barely had to wipe.

If you are unaware of what the Bristol Stool Chart is, it is quite simply the best thing to come out of Bristol in its entire history. That being said, the second best thing to come out of Bristol was the slave trade. I think that says it all. I'm sure my friend from Bristol will disagree. But anyway, the Bristol Stool Chart (BSC) is a medical system for classifying human faeces. BSC 1 is constipation, whilst BSC 7 is diarrhoea. BSC 4 is ideal. Below is a chart describing the Bristol Stool Chart. Print it off, and stick it on your bathroom wall. It will change your life. Trust me.*

*"The Bristol Stool Chart changed my life," said one English teacher. "I don't know how I survived this long without it."

Fact of the Day
The United Nations Partition Plan for Palestine was voted upon today in 1947. The decision, in favour of partition, marked the start of the 1947-1948 Civil War in Palestine, followed by the declaration of Israeli independence on 14 May 1948 and the First Arab-Israeli War.

Freezingness and frapes

Super hi to all!

So, this weekend I went to Manchester to visit my lovely girlfriend. It was a great weekend. I got to listen to said girlfriend perform in a concert, and got to look around a city I'd never visited before. It was nice. The only thing, it was freezing. I mean properly cold. Like this cold:

Yeah, I know it's in German. Whenever I see Germans in military uniform in a film, I always assume they're either Nazis or evil henchmen for a James Bond villain. Sad but true.

So I'm glad to be back in London where it's tropical in comparison. In other news, I got fraped. Again. If you don't know what 'frape' means, here's a definition from the dictionary of Searching for Sapience:

frape v.
to hack into, or gain access without the owner's permission or knowledge to, an account on Facebook, in order to vandalise his or her saved details, generally to cause minor confusion and embarrassment.
Etymology: a portmanteau of Facebook and rape.

Typical frapey activities include adding crude or embarrassing statuses, changing the owner's gender and/or sexual orientation, and changing information about them on their information page. This most recent frape attack involved changing my date of birth. I got quite a few birthday greetings, which is always nice, but unfortunately, my birthday isn't for another two and a half months.

A person who frapes is called a frapist. This is my diagram of a frapist. If you see one, log off all accounts immediately, and delete this individual from your friends list.

Anyway, that's all folks, so super bye from me!

Excessive positivity

My friend and I were talking yesterday about a colleague of hers who was constantly moany and negative.

How I imagine her office

I told her, that to combat it, she should cancel it out with an annoying level of positivity.

I thought about drawing a horse, but I didn't think that'd go too well.

For every annoying negative comment, my friend would have to respond with an equally annoying positive comment, and kapow! like matter meeting anti-matter, harmony would be restored. In order for this idea to be carried out to fruition, we came up with a plan.

Step #1: Eternal optimism

Every situation has a silver lining. And if you can't think of one, then things aren't as bad as they actually seem. Situations aren't difficult, they're a challenge to be overcome. That extra piece of work your boss has given you, good karma. And so on.

Moany colleague: It's raining again. I hate the rain.

Friend: When it rains, I always think how happy the fish must be.

Step #2: Always give the benefit of the doubt

No one is incompetent, lazy or rude. They're either incredibly busy, unwell, or have a deep-seated anxiety due to childhood trauma. And maybe, they're just having a bad day.

Step #3: Sing

This is one I have tested out, to many of a friend's dismay. And my conclusion is that for any occasion, there is an annoyingly upbeat song. At this time of year, festive songs are particularly appropriate, but my friend and I agreed that anything by Cliff Richard would do.

It would also be good to try and fit the song around the moaner's behaviour. Direct questions in songs towards them ("Sleigh bells ring, are you listening?"). If they are moaning about some problem, My Favourite Things is in order. Complaining about work should be replied with A Spoonful of Sugar.

With these steps, office harmony should be restored. Are there any vital steps I'm missing?

I wish I knew

I wish I knew what the symbols on my oven meant. I think I've just grilled a pizza for twenty minutes.

Edit: After googling a description of the oven and eventually finding a PDF of the manual (I was planning to link to it here, but I then realised that no-one in their right mind would spend their free time reading the manual to an oven they don't own) and I did indeed grill my pizza. Although the burnt topping and doughy base gave it away somewhat.

I wish I could cook. Oh well, I'll just have to make do with watching Nigella Lawson et al on the television.

Pavement hogs

I tend to walk a lot. This is because a) I'm too poor to afford a car or public transport and b) I'm too scared to ride a bike in London. This set up generally serves me well, because I live in walking distance of university, several supermarkets, and most other things that will keep me happy and alive.

However, I have noticed that whenever I am in a hurry, there is always someone in front of me who is walking more slowly and who seems impossible to overtake. These people I call pavement hogs and in my view are a menace to society surpassing asylum seekers, children and the unemployed. I have also noticed there are several types of pavement hogs, which, with the aid of clear and colourful diagrams, if I do say so myself, I shall describe here.

Type 1: The sentries
(aka teenage girls and tourists)

These are social creatures. They work in groups, where they occupy an entire pavement whilst walking at a painfully slow pace. Their most annoying trait is that they usually stand at a distance where you contemplate overtaking them by squeezing between two of them, but where they are just slightly too close together to eliminate the risk of physical contact. And as I'm English, making physical contact with a stranger is worse than a bee sting to the eye.

Fig. 1: Sentry pavement hogs

Type 2: The wandering tribes of Israel
(aka drunks, the homeless and tourists)

Type 2 generally act alone. They create their nuisance by walking slowly, but in no discernable direction. Therefore it is impossible to overtake them without the risk of them diverting course and making physical contact with you.

Fig. 2: Wandering tribes of Israel pavement hogs

Type 3: The stop-starters
(aka parents with young children and tourists)

This type of pavement hog can either act alone, or in groups. These type of pavement hogs walk along at a normal pace for a while, and then abruptly come to a stop, maybe to take a photograph, consult a map or berate a child. This means you, whilst walking behind them, end up doing a pedestrian foxtrot. Quick quick slow... quick quick slow... quick quick slow...

Sometimes these different types combine into super pavement hogs. For example, types one and two can be merged into the drunken hoardes of football fans, whilst one and three can merge into the tourists with a tour guide.

If you think I've neglected to include any groups, please let me know.

Fact of the Day #2

Terrorist attacks are more likely to occur on a Wednesday than any other day.