Oh my goodness, a post on time!!!

Good evening!

Well, isn't this ironic. The first blog post I have managed to write up on time, and I can't think of anything to write up. So here we go. Hold on tight, as I ramble my way through yet another blog post, here on the wonderful blog of CATCOUK...

As I have tried to point out, and I'm not sure whether I have got my point accross, but University is very, very, VERY busy. We don't really have many lectures, but we do have plenty of assignments. Now, a 1000 word essay is only really two pages of text. I know that I can write two pages of text in maybe 30 minutes, or even less if I know what I want to say. Just ask anyone in the NTC that has read either my new safety administration regulations, or the National Camp Guidebook. They'll tell you that I can do.

So with that in mind, how difficult can these assignments be? If it only takes 30 minmutes to write 1000 words, what am I complaining about. If only I knew what I wanted to say. On top of the actual writing, which barely takes any time at all, I have to research what I am writing about, fully reference what I'm writing, and try and get interested in the subject. If the subject is interesting to me, I'm laughing. Unfortunately it seems that most of the stuff I'm doing this term is a load of old horse hockey.

But it was with great pride, that I printed an A0 size poster (that's over a metre wide!). I took great care in designing it, and I love playing about with graphics. I wanted a finished product that would completely break the mold of standard looking academic posters. And apparently the time I spent on it was worth it. When one of my friends saw it being printed, Kat thought that it couldn't be anything to do with our projects. Marvellous.

Several people said that they really liked the look of the poster, and used words like 'amazing'. Well that's great, but I don't think that the lecturers will settle at looking at the graphic design elements of the poster. So it may look pretty, but the essay content is probably a load of old dribble...

One of the highlights of my week however, was kayaking in Chichester canal. Well, that's a lie actually, the real highlight for me, was getting back in the saddle as it were, and arguing with one of our senior lecturers. Som would call me brave, most merely stupid. But I have never like bullies, and I never will. Both from a youth working point of view, and from a personal point of view.

As a high school student, I only ever got into one fight. This 6ft goon called my best friend a name, making fun of his religious nature. The bully alarm went off in my head, and I made some remark. Following that, he pushed me to the ground, and started repeatedly trying to kick me in the head. I have never been the tallest, and as a sixteen-year old, I certainly wasn't taller than this 6ft lumiox. Anyways, after I produced a two footed kick from my shoulder blades, directed at his gentals, he looked quite sore, and was suspended for 6 weeks. I didn't have a mark on me, and I got back on my stool, and straightened my tie. I don't like bullies.

Anyway, going back to my original topic, this particular lecture, 'Coley' likes to think of himself as a bit of a hardnut. You know the type, stereotypical head of PE at high school. Well, he pretty much bullies most people into things, and most students are scared of him. I never have been, and I always stand up to assist my fellow students who fall foul of him, and his wicked use of language.

It's still fairly early in the morning, and I have just finished unpacking the trailer. I'm a little dazed, and wondering what to do next. Just as I think about getting my dry suit on, Coley, seeing me standing doing nothing, chirps up with: 'Are you ready to go on the water?'.

'Nearly,' I reply, 'I'm just getting changed'. I'm obviously not changing, although I am in the process of walking towards my bag. Coley doesn't like this 'attitude', and fake threatens me if I don't keep my mouth free of sarcastic replies. After point out that I merely gave him an accurate response to his caustic question (well, I was heading towards my bag to get changed), he warned me how nasty he can be. I don't want to get him in trouble, so it's worth pointing out that all of his threats were of course idle and slightly jokey. But he was clearly getting a bit peeved.

Not to be outdone, and to have the last word, I raised my voice a little, so that my fellow students could all here me. 'Surely not Ian [being his first name], not old 'cuddly Coley'...'. Many of the students giggled at the gall of my statement, and the other lecture tried to supress a laugh, and then looked at me, shaking his head. 'Fourth yearm and you still don't know when to stop.' Well, actualy I do, and I prooved it. When I've made fun of Coley, and I've had the last word/ laugh. What Coley started, I finished, making fun of him in the process. Win!

Later on, I was put in this aircraft carrier of a kayak. It was just like a rocket car - in a straight line it was great, but it took forever to turn around. Also, because of it's V-shaped hull, it was very wobbly. Coley noticed me on the water, and said that me capsizing right now would make his day. I never did. I won't win every battle with Coley, but the point that I can win, where other students wouldn't dare, is reason enough for me to try. Having said that, I like to think that Coley and I share a friendly rivalry, where each of us consider ourselves better than the other. Obviously the fact that I realise this, makes me a better person than Coley...

I can't finish this post without telling you of the relaxing weekend I enjoyed. Oh that's right, it wasn't relaxing at all. After a 5.30am wake up, I was standing at Adur Rec in the mist and the fog helping to run a carboot sale for the NTC. It was good fun. I argued with two punters, and as each of them drove off, I shouted cheerfully after them 'HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY SIR!' I also had to start 4 cars - jump start three with flat batteries with Dad's car (Ernie was at home), and one who thought she had a flat battery. When we jump started her, everything sounded fine, it just wasn't starting. At this point I asked 'Does it have plenty of fuel.'

Well, this lady drive looked at her guage and said, 'well the symbol is flashing, but that doesn't mean it's empty does it?' Sigh - I'm not going to make any comments about women drivers...

But hey-ho. We made a fair few quid. And I have to say, I was most impressed, and pleasently suprised about how much we received in public donations. Over £250! Incredible considering all of the economic misery that is descending upon us...

Lastly, today we had our first weekend band practice, in preparation for the band contest at the end of October. We have some new officers on the unit, and I am very keen for them to take the band on. Dad's also getting very interested and committed. Marvellous. So, since I came back from the US, I have sat on my hands, and said nothing. No matter how many things were going on that I probbaly wouldn't have.

But I couldn't do it anymore. I was broken today. I don't wish to make Tyler, our wonderful bandmaster, or John, or is another exceptional officer, feel bad, but I couldn't hold on any more. After a solid hour of what can only be described as faffing, I had to step in, and kick some backsides. The cadets were moping around, and not really engaged. Well if there is one thing I can do, it's to kick people in the behind, and get them motivated. Despite a very looong day, and a very busy day, we now have a complete routine, pretty much from scrap. I even found time to make some stuff up today, to fill in the gaps. But I didn't really do that much. Tyler had set everything up, all I did was steer the cadets in the right direction, and get us going. Unfortunatly, I'm still pretty new at my instrument, and I really need to practice playing and marching. Bugger.

Well, I think I've rambled through that quite well. Have a good one, and see you soon.

If you think that I made this up on the spot, and it was rubbish, why not leave a comment, where you try to write something better.

If you think that I made this up, and did it pretty well, why not leave a comment and an address, so that I know where to send the details for alcoholics anonymous.

Quote of the Week: 'Well, the symbols flashing, but that doesn't mean it's completely out of fuel does it?' Duh! Cars need petrol to move!!!

I PROBE-ably shouldn't PROBE into this, by asking any PROBING questions...

I think that that title may have to win an award, for the most content related single punn, of any blog post title.

Well, I may be several days late posting, but as Siobhan demands entertainment, so I'll put up a short post. And I have to say, I have a fantastic subject for this week's post. It's all about very high-brow academic university lab testing.

As you should now know, I have returned to the grand old University of Chichester to complete my final year of Adventure Education. Of the 28 or so student on my course, 1 person is glad to be back. What can I say, I just enjoy their company!

One of my pet hates, has always been biology. And a subject that is even worse than biology (and I wasn't sure that that was possible) is PHYSIOLOGY! Oh good goodness, how I detest physiology. I just can't engage in the subject (which is bad news, as I struggle to do well in subjects that I'm not interested in). One of the things we have to do for our physiology module, is to carry out lab tests. I personally would much rather spend those two hours beating my head to a bloody pulp against a brick wall somewhere. But hey, that's just me.

But this year, for our final year of University, where everything is that much more advanced, we are using an environmental chamber. The first time we walked in there, one of my fellow students uttered 'Anyone ever heard of mustard gas?' And he was right - the place looks like an American gas chamber! Very spooky. So far, this all sounds pretty cool - we get to play with a room where we are in charge of the temperature and humidity.

But you're forgettiung, this is Physiology. We have to keep a constant core temperature reading on anyone being tested on in this room - all for safety. How can you take a core temperature reading? Under your tongue, under your armpit, and yes that's right, rectally! What method do you think the physiolists prefer to use? Right again - rectally! Well, if they think that they are going to shove a 10cm probe up my chuff in the name of education, they have another thing coming.

Fortunately, there are other, more open minded students on my course. They gladly volunteered themselves to be subjects. So they were given their 10cm anal probe, and a tub of vaseline, and sent on their way. Well, out of the four participants we had last week, one thought he might have applied too much vaseline, one went a very odd shade of greeney-white, and a third passed out! Well, we used another two participants to replace the one that had passed out, and the one that had gone a funny colour.

Well, if that is not conclusive, I don't know what is. I am not going to be participating in the lab tests this year...

But I ask you. What on earth do anal probes have to do with Adventure Education. Anyone that tried to even raise the topic of rectal thermometers in an adventure setting with young people would probably be arrested. So I ask again, what in the name of all that is holy, do anal probes have to do with Adventure Education? Perverse physiologists.

Lastly, it dawned on me recently, that of the three modules I am taking this semester, two of them are focussed on teaching us how to be undergraduate students. So, we are taking modules that are teaching us how to learn this year. Honestly, I have yet to find one thing on these two modules that I will ever use again. Does anyone else see anything bizarre about this?

And on that bombshell, I need to get off, and finish my first university assignment. Oh boy...

If you would like to volunteer to be a participant in one of our lab sessions, why not leave a comment saying that you'll being your own vaseline.

If you would like to avoid being a participant in one of our lab sessions at all costs, stay near me...

Quote of the week: 'It's like going from swimming in water, to walking through jelly with concrete boots on. You can do it, but it's bloody hard work!' I said, as I explained how I was finding 4th year university life to my dad.

Yet another late post

Sorry guys, I know that I'm already a day late, but I'm super mad stupid busy. I'll try and post something tomorrow night.

Catcouk Returns (part 3)

Here we go, the last installment of CATCOUK's first ever three part post. And once again, a day or two late. I think we need to just accept that I am busier than a busy thing, busying about a busy place, doing lots of busy work, whilst being a busy buzzy bee being very busy indeed. So, don't hold your breath, posts are like to continue to be late for several weeks/ months (who knows). What can I say, my last year of Uni is turning out to be mega busy.

Picking up where we left off las week, after a busy shut down week, and a trip to Hershey Park, it was time to pack myself away (and my stuff), and get back to the grand old United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. And thanks to British Airways, I returned to Heathrow at 9.30 in the morning, having had two hours of, what could be described by a mad person as, sleep. I HATE FLYING - It's so dull and uncomfortable!

The moment I land, and meet up with mum and dad (a considerably smaller welcoming party than I received in the US), we rushed to the car, so that we could find the nearest 'Little Chef'. I have a tradition, no matter how Little Chef's image gets, that I don't consider anything a holiday unless I have had a Little Chef. I love Little Chef's breakfasts, especially their sausages. Delicious. I'm salavating now, just at the thought.

After that, I returned home to hug my car, and unpack. Well, I hugged my car anyway. I also found some excuse to take Ernie out for a spin. I really missed my car, and I absolutely love the car. And then it was onto busy work. I had been back in the country less than 4 hours, and I was up to my neck in paperwork. But what sort of paperwork, I hear you cry. NTC? Uni? Nope - stuff for the magistrates court.

I never made this public, but back in April, I was pulled over by the Police. I kept this under wraps for 'legal reasons'. But never-the-less, a legal action began. I was driving my best friend's car, after we had spent a few hours refitting his interior. We decided that we should take it out for a spin, and Michael asked if I would like to drive. For various lengthy reasons, I thought that I was covered to drive other vehicles on my insurance.

The plod pulled us over, and said that the vehicle had no tax or insurance. I showed the officer the road tax in the screen, explaining that it was Michael's car. He asked if I was covered to drive, and I gave him my details. He radioed it in, and replied 'Oh dear'. Driving without insurance is a pretty serious crime, and so it went to court. Unbelievably, it took the police and CPS more than 7 weeks to pull their finger out of their arse, and give me a summons (which was made out to the wrong person). By this time I was in the states. After getting an adjournment, I had a date that gave me just one full working day in the country. Very poor form in my opinion.

So I compiled all of the necessary, and went before three magistrates. After pleading guilty, and begging for mercy, the magistrates had this to say. 'It's happenning alot. Insurance companies are removing that level of cover, and leaving many people in your situation. However, you have broken the law'. First off, if you drive other people's vehicles, check your insurance carefully. Are you covered?

I ended up with 6 points (ouch), and a £15 fine (fifteen!). This was the least possible penalty they could legally give me, and they wanted to give me less penalty points! But they weren't able to. After all of this, I have to say that I think the magistrates were brilliant. But I have to say, I think that the damned police officer could and maybe should have shown some leniency. He knew the situation, agreed with me, but then wrote a very one-sided witness statement. Cheers buddy. Before this, I used to like the Police, and support their work. But now I have to wonder whether they really are as target setting, and quota meeting as people claim. What a shame...

Before I finish the Catcouk Returns posts, I have to do some housekeeping, and clean up some film reviews. Over the summer, I saw several films. The first one, before I left the country, I saw the fourth installment of the Indiana Jones series: Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. I have to say that all of the CGI stuff spoiled it a little, but I really enjoyed the film. There were also a few scenes that were a little bizarre. Obviously there are some scenes that are out-of-this-world, but Indiana Jones has always had that element. Overall, I thought it was a great entertaining film, although some less aware people are probably not going to get the point.

4 Escorts out of 5 - Great film, but maybe won't be understood by everyone.

The other films that I saw was 'The Dark Knight'. I say films, as I saw this film three times! I have never enjoyed a film in the cinema more than this. Heath Ledger as The Joker (and yes I know that everyone raves about him, but he) really was incredible. You also got exceptional value for your money, the film had three endings. You also get Morgan Freeman and Michael Caine. What more could you want?

5 Escorts out of 5 and a Batmobile - a CATCOUK first, scoring higher than 5 Escorts out of 5. Now my favourite film of all time.

Lastly, to the reason why I am late posting. This weekend was our first residential since I got back. And I can easily say that it was the worst residential I have ever run. That's not to say that it was a bad trip, but it was okay. I'm not used to running a trip that's less than pretty good, and I won't really settle for less. I will admit that it is partly my fault, for trying to run the trip at all. Without any other officers going from our unit, I was understaffed. Thank gould for Diana and her husband Saidou, who really made the weekend. Thank goodness for Graham of TS Sturdy also, for providing himself, some cadets, and a bus.

That was the first embarrassing moment. We had two parents who volunteered to drive, yet with my car, and theirs, we were still one seat short. It was so embarrasing, not just for me, but for the unit, and those parents who just can't afford to drive that far. Times are hard. I want to sincerely thank all of those parents who drove, and apologise hugely to everyone else, for putting them in that situation. In the end, one parent had to make his wife walk home, so that he could take the extra cadet. I am furious about that. It's not the parent's fault. I am trying my hardest to provide excellent trips, at a minimal price. Yet our committee refuse to put any money towards a minibus (either in purchasing and running one, or hiring one). They insist that if we hire a bus, it has to come out of the trip costs. That could mean putting the price of a day trip up by £5, and a weekend up by £10. I just can't put up our trip costs by that much.

The second embarrassing moment, was just before we left, the centre manager Ian said that the centre was left in an unnacceptable condition, and that it had been the most destructive weekend in the centre's 15 years. I could accept one or two odd things, but for cadets to have broken so many things is just unreasonable. Then leaving a mess... I don't quite know what has happenned to the mentality of some of those cadets, but jees. Obviously not all of the cadets, the majorty are still brilliant, and had a great weekend, but just those few really have got to me.

In the three years that I have been doing this job, I have never once even thought about resigning from TS Intrepid. But with the unit's current transport policy, and the apparently changing mentality of some of our cadets, I really wondered why I bother, when I have a very busy year at University, and the opportunity to help so many with my national position in the Corps. Thank goodness there are still a majority of fantastic cadets that make my work so worth it, and an up and coming set of senior cadets/ junior officers that are so supportive. The fact that I don't have to worry about our marching band any more, thanks to a fantastic bandmaster, is a relief as well. Even if she is trying to turn our band into a faux show band...

Nevermind, life goes on. I have the Corps' National Weekend Activities Camp to look forward to this weekend, and I hope that it's successful. I really would like to see more cadets want to attend, and given the chance to attend next year.

See you all next time.

If you want to donate £40 000 for us to buy and run a transit minibus for 5 years, why not leave a comment.

If you want to donate £40 000 for us to buy and run a transit minibus for five years, and you actually can, why not leave a comment, and a cheque.

Quote of the Week: 'Is that smell coming from your car?' asked centre manager Ian, as I arrived in Portsmouth, after a 40 mile drive towing TS Intrepid's £2500 lovely, but very heavy box trailer. I can honestly say Ernie has never complained so much before. Especially going up hill, I could really hear that new distributor clicking around. Not to mention the best possible speed of 55mph... I love you Ernie...

Catcouk Returns (part 2)

I know, I know. The post is late, and I left you all on a cliff hanger. But today was the first day of our fourth year of University (woo Adventure Education), and last night I was getting ready (as well as some other NTC stuff).

So where were we? So did I run? Yeah right! I like Jeeps, I do, but they just aren't made for speed or police chases. Like the responsible citizen that I am (even if of another country), I pulled over, switched the engine off, and got some paperwork ready (after several expletives). The officer came up, introduced himself, and asked to see a driver's license, and a registration document for the car. As I handed them over, he asked where we were going.

Having heard several stories, it appears that the Police are leanient on the Boy Scouts. So I replied 'Just heading to XXX back to our Boy Scout Camp'. Play the Boy Scout card. It didn't work - he seemed even less impessed. He checked the registration document, and then moved to my license. After a double take, he asked 'What's this?'. 'It's my driving license officer,' I replied. 'I'm from the UK.'

'Oh, oh, England,' the cop stammered. 'Well, just to remind you that the speed limit is 55 mph. Have a safe evening.' Fantastic! Got away scot-free (http://ask.yahoo.com/20060712.html - just in case you wondered where the term came from). But why did I have to appear before a magistrate? Well, that is the question isn't it.

That day (bearing in mind it was gone midnight), after 8 hours of sleep, I would welcome 54 Scouts (not that I knew that may were coming) to Ockanickon, and form the greatest 'Provisional Troop' ever to slam into Ockanickon. Many weeks before, Terry (awesome Asst. Camp Director) had asked if I wanted to be Scoutmaster of our week 8 provisional troop. Because the camp's numbers were down for our last week of camp, we promoted and invited individual Scouts to attend (known as 'provisional Scouts'). Thus, the 'Provo' troop.

The amazing homemade Troop 1 troop flag - made by me (out of 3 bedsheets and a pillow case from WalMart!), with my beautiful Golfcart in the background. Alright so Kevin laughed continuously when I gave him a ride in it, but it was mine for a week whilst Nick 'the lazy commissioner' went to Puerto Rico.

I had signed up for around 30 Scouts, but no one had told me that we had an open door policy. So, 54 Scouts, and 4 adults later, I was a trained Scoutmaster, of the biggest troop on camp. Although the Scouts came from troops accross New Jersey, Pennsylvannia, Delaware, Virginia and Maryland (5 states), the troop became the most enthusiastic troop ever seen. One of the Scouts remarked to me that he was more enthusiastic about our troop, than his own troop.

We were also pretty sucessful, winning the tetherball 'battle royale' (don't know what Tetherball is? Wikipedia does!), the volleyball tournament, and the water carnival. We missed out on the Golden Skillet, and we would have won the 'Airband Competition', but bad weather called it off. Why did we win? Because we are Troop 1! The troop (numbered on the camp director's instruction) also had it's very own original cheer (which I think may have grated on some people after a while). Someone would shout 'Yeah Troop 1!', and the rest of the troop that was within ear-shot called back 'Yeah Troop 1!' And so this would keep repeating indefinately...

I couldn't possibly talk about troop one, and not talk about some of the adults that joined us. I have to start with Mr. 'Creepy Old Scoutmaster' Eliff - who set the tone for his week on Sunday evening, when he asked 'Is anybody hungry?' as he pulled a ham sandwich from his trench coat, that he had nicked from the Dining Hall. The other memorable adult was Mr. 'Parent helper that is so good he should really be a Scoutmaster' [insert name here]. You may think that I can't remember his name, but he's a lawyer, so he's one of the few people that could bring a law suit against me for using his name. But on top of being a lawyer, he's also a ballon animal entertainer and magician (what a mix of jobs). Apparently, when he appears before one judge, the judge demans he performs a trick before he'll start the trial. Fantastic guy. I even offered him a volunteer job at TS Intrepid NTC if he's ever in England.

I also have to quickly mention the jump rope (skipping rope to you and me) competition held on the Tuesday. The Scouts were happily playing, when Terry (Asst. Camp Director/ Scoutmaster Co-Pilot) got involved. Somehow, Kevin (Staff Member/ Asst. Scoutmaster) an I ended up there too, and so a competition was born. Terry started first, and got an admirable 9 (you have to appreciate that Terry is a big guy). I went next, quite nervous. We all know how clumsy, and unathletic I am. But I struggled on through, and with a rather unique technique, achieved 12. Kevin was last, and sure fire favourite, being fearless, and a multi-award winning swimmer. Kevin got off to a great start, and looked like he had it in the bag. Now, Terry really didn't wan't to loose, so after about 3 jumps, he started shouting 'FAIL' everytime Kevin jumped. Kevin collapsed laughing after just 6 jumps. As one of the Scouts wood burned - Kevin sucks at jump rope!

Terry 'Fish Plates' Robinson - runner up in the jump rope competition.

I was doing really well at meeting Scoutmaster requirements - I was really bad in competitions against Scouts (I went out in the second round of the tetherball), we won the Scoutmaster competition of the water carnival, I had schooled my fellow Scoutmasters at a jump rope competition - yep I was really excelling as a Scoutmaster. And then we got to fill another requirement - the hospital visit! I was heading down to the Leader's archery competition (to win that for Troop 1), when the Scout shouted 'Hi Andy- oh sh*t!' I span round and reprimanded him for bad language, to see him on the floor in pain. So, leaving him with two other leaders (Mr. 'Creepy Old Scoutmaster' Eliff was putting on the most useless splint known to mankind), I ran to the range, and borrowed their suburban. After lifting him up there, Terry drove him and I to hospital. Marvellous.

And so onto staff shutdown week. Conveniently, I missed the first afternoon, so that I could visitmy 'home troop', T29, Dunellen. It was their summer picnic, and it had been organised so that I could attend. I borrowed Terry's car (which he said 'Oh bugger, I've got the truck', and I said 'Brilliant!'), alright, so I mean GMC Sierra truck (pickup version of a Suburban, with 1 5.6ltr engine, and about 1 million horse power, as I described to someone interested in buying it). It was a BIG truck, but really good fun to drive. I discovered, even if you're trying to pull out into traffic, in an automatic, a 5.7 ltr engine will definitely wheel-spin and scare the cyclist in front of you.

While I was discovering that, Tom (incompetent Asst. Camp Director), Joe (my assistant sailing director), and fellow commissioner Nick were discovering that my sailing boat, the beautuful 22ft Catalina, 'The Corpulent Porpoise', really likes me, and doesn't like being sailed without me. They brought the boat back to camp, and the main sail collapsed, the jib (front) sail wouldn't work, and for the first time in my knowledge, the boobs had to get the boat towed in by a motorboat - pillocks. I told you should have waited for me...

And this was turning out to be a week of discoveries. We all have to move out of our regular staff accomodation, and into three sided shelters in camps. I was sharing with Kevin, Nick, Pinky (Kevin's asst.), and James (from aquatics). After last weeks shock discovery that Kevin sucks at jumping rope, we thought there couldn't be anymore we didn't know about him. But we all discovered that Kevin is mortifiably scared of Racoons, and has a real hate for them (we had about 6 babies and a mum outside our 'Ad' at 2am one morning). Nick was fine, until he made a discovery. 'I'm safe up here,' he said from the top bunk. Then Kevin replied, 'What are you talking about! They'll just climb up and scratch your eyes out!' That's right, Nick discovered he was scared of Racoons too, because Racoons can climb. Me, I was too tired to care. Bring it on racoon features!

And that's where this post must leave off. Two days late it may be, but there it ends. And I know, there are still several questions on the lips of the readers - Why was I in front of a magistrate? Why am I now a convicted criminal? Is this going to be CATCOUK's first 3 part post? And, if you're at University with me, and have being playing this giant real world game of Chinese Whispers (Whispers down a lane if you're American) - Why was I convicted and sent to jail in America? Well I'll answer that one now - I didn't!!!

Tune in next time, only the Internet channel...

If you're happy to be back at University, why not leave a message saying 'Andy, you're not the only one.'

If you wish you were anywhere but University, why not leave a message saying 'Andy, you're a sad act - get a life!'

Quote of the week: 'This is going to be a rowdy one isn't it' asked the National Council chairman in dismay, as the Chief of Staff started shouting jokes accross the table...

Tune of the Month: I kissed a girl. Katy Perry.