Zoe always wishes peeps a very happy shag day on February 14th. As she notes, whilst it is a Hallmark day, it also involved the annual chore, but at least it means that it's all out of the way on one day of the year when the man has to make some effort in fussing over you.

However, my calendar is different. Maybe it's marriage or the fact that I fell for Hallmarks traps hook line and sinker, but there are other days that loom up just like Valentines. Like today.

Girlpants birthday.

The man claims he's 21 but in reality his mind is 40 and his body is that of a 32 yr old. And as it's birthday, it also means we have to do whatever he wants, which in itself can sound rather threatening. Lucky for me, tonight that means a five course meal in the local posh nosh establishment. Five rather large courses so have been starving myself all day so that I can sup in pure pleasure, in an outfit which I will ensure has an elasticated waist. The birthday boy has already told me that he refuses to wear the rather large birthday boy badge that I try to make him wear each year, so I will have to settle for him to be served dessert whilst being serenaded by tuneless Happy Birthday's, whilst the rest of us try to avoid the heat from the 32 candles I have purchased especially for the event. After all, there had to be some sort of embarressment involved, doesn't there??

A little less than a year ago, I blogged about one of Girlpants colleagues who was trying to encourage us to have mini-me's. 

Professor Lovely has his own business, works for a living and also consults in the uni. I met him in the first few months when Girlpants & I got together and basically we were cocky (via conversation) to each other. This has continued to this day - we're both part of the furniture however we jokingly rant, take the piss and basically have a go at each other in a friendly kinda way.

But I do love the guy, to the point tonight that I slurringly asked him to be Godfather of my unborn babies in my drunken haze. And in all seriousness, he looked at me and said:

"You do realise I will drag both you and them to church..."

Catholicism. You can run but you can't really hide from it

quiz night in the pub directly across the road from the office. After discussing various strategic drinking methods, for some sorry reason, we all decided that going en masse immediately after work and mixing our drinks was a great idea, which of course would mean we would ensure our winning with a fantastic score.

In truth, the several terminator cocktails and inability to stand up straight may have had something to do with our abysmal score. Or the fact that most of us hadn't eaten properly during the day and then left the our carefully prepared path of strategic drinking for one of tastebuds. Or the fact that we were in the pub for nearly four hours waiting for the quiz to start. Eventually, our attempt to take the £100 prize money disintergrated into a farce as stunner data pixie and finance pixie were arguing over answers during the double point round, talking over the actual questions, whilst personally, I thought that I was rather outstanding, yelling insults over at the quizmaster telling him that maybe a few seasons watching QI may be in order whilst stumbling making my way to the little girls room.

And when I returned, as I smugly sat back, stunner data pixie suddenly pointed out that I had had toilet paper trailing out from the back of ye olde work trews for the last 15 minutes, asking if I had managed to swipe the quiz answers from the now dishearted man on the mic, and if so, please share...

However, things are as frantic as a mad thing as I grapple with work and the disasterious week from hell. I will post, as soon as I have a moment to catch my breath...

After making him watch the influx of reality tv (hello, my name is Sim and I'm addicted to CBB and want to give the coen of witches a piece of my mind on bullying...), tonight it was the first episode of American Idol, recorded in Seattle tonight

"I think most of them have they've sat on their internal tuning forks because they sound like...."

There aint nothing like a chicken guy....

Am so sorry I've been gone for a while, but you know what I always say.... My name is Sim and I am an addict to reality tv. Sad I know. But I love it.

But yes, damn that typo below - did I really type w$nker? Zoe summed it up far far better than I. Sad poor lonely Hellen Man. But then again, he is named like a girl.

My inability to post within a week has been due to the fact that I was absolutely fuming at the bullying on CBB - Pat has posted on this one, but she is more eloquent and dignified in her manner on posting on the subject than what I may have ever been. But then again, I do imagine Pat with perfect hair, perfect dress and dignified beyond belief. She is in fact a lady, and quite probably gardens in her tiara. And if anyone is visiting her via the random button blogger button, she's on the right favourite blogs menu - please go visit and tell her how lovely she is.

And whilst you're browsing, don't forget to visit Zoe at the same time for being one of the wittiest women I know and love. And buy from her shop. Fab things! And I still have to send her proper cheese but I'm a tad afraid that it may get blown away with the gale force winds...

But yes - CBB. The bullying on that programme was disgraceful - Jade "alleged lyposuction" keep fit queen and her coven were an absoltuely disgrace and on some nights I found myself fuming at how angry I was at it all. Which is a new for me. Keeping myself awake by being mad at myself. But isn't it a shame how we are now on the international scene for all the wrong reasons.

Meanwhile, I note that Keith has moved again - now sir! Have you got that fed up of beta-blogger already? Mind it does sound like medication.

And Pidge. Look up sweetie. On the right - you are so linked already! ;)

Even above Chris Moyles. You know you love it, you dirty boy you...

include bullies.

Mind, there are a fair share of them out in the office type and worldly world. However, when your main outlet is the world wide web, then it can get personal.

Take for example a friend of mine who was posting on forums. Yesterday, she was banned for essentially being a member of another rival forum. She was accused of poaching new members just for saying hello to an old friend on their boards. Rude and nasty emails were sent to her despite the fact that she hadn't even made the first contact. Basically, they wanted us all back as we were ardent posters before they switched us off autumn last year. Despite wanting us back, they were greedy and wanted us back all unto themselves. And for merely saying hello to an old forum friend, they threatened potential legal action against the new forum. Whilst the others can see the laugable side of this, all I can think is the man behind the emails must have a very huge opinion of himself to make up for something lacking.

Not even on the same level is the story that many far far better bloggers have commented on this but it has really got under my skin to the pint that even I have been riled enough to send my own personal email to the person in question. Nicholas Hellen, the then Acting News Editor from the Sunday Times sent what I would term as a blackmailing email to Girl With A One-Tracked Mind. Basically, the ST took time out from Conservative support et reporting, to outing an anon blogger who just so happened to have a book deal. They gave her the choice of having a bad photo, her name and her family in black or white, or turn up in a pretty evening wear dress as they couldn't be arsed to give her any type of cordility and would in all probablity still name her family members as well as ruining her career in the film industry at the same time. Zoe pointed me to Troubled Diva who in turn, linked to Heller's rebuttal to the blog outrage.

Despite his protestations, it doesn't take away from the fact that Heller took away personal privacy of not only a blogger, but her family. In essence, he was a total bully. You may try and defend your actions as qualifying a story but that defence just doesn't wash. Heller joined the ranks of black mailing creeps that you see in seedy 1960s-1970s films who have incriminating evidence to goto the press with but want something from you to prevent you family being dragged into it. GWAOTM is a grown consenting woman who yes, may have been a little naive in thinking that her privacy may be protected, but as others had managed it, why could she not expect the same? What Heller was basically doing was in IHO morally & ethically wrong - he had no real journalistic interest in outing The Girl; his arrogance in believing that his actions were justified is misplaced as it clearly wasn't in the public interest, amounted to nothing but pain and distress at the invasion of privacy on The Girls behalf and just proved that a gentleman he is not as his actions make him in essence, a bona fida w$nker.