President and First Tiger

Congratulations are in order for Sam, who's just been elected president of the Bangor students' union. I'm sure this is a start of a great golden age for the university, and that his appalling right-wing views won't bring about the collapse of all peace, happiness and moral rights throughout the student population of Wales and the wider world. I have been saying for years that Sam is the kind of person who's going to be Prime Minister when he grows up, and I think this goes some way towards proving me right. He's certainly the kind of person you want to stay on the right side of, just in case. Luckily, I've still got the photos from that night in York, in case I ever need to blackmail him.

In other news, I've just taken the unprecedented step of giving my phone number to someone from the BBC after a single email request, without even being pestered for it for weeks on end. I'm going through a phase of feeling like I could be a TV star again, and this is part of the latest get-rich-eventually scheme that will never come to anything. They only want me to be a consultant on a programme about memory, rather than the star of my own variety show, but it's a step in the right direction. Who knows, I might even get round to writing that book this weekend - I'm not doing anything special again (two weekends in a row? Have I really that little social life?)

Elsewhere, I've just been quite tickled to see that in the German translation of Ozy and Millie, Dr Wahnsinnig is called Dr Insane. I don't know why, but this little detail makes me laugh. I like useless trivia like this, and the way a strip last week revealed that Ozy's middle name is Justin, which suits him perfectly somehow. I know I've plugged it before, but you should really go and read it - at the moment, Ozy's curse of annual baldness has manifested itself in the form of an overzealous security check at the airport, while Llewellyn is building a windmill in his garden in order to annoy the neighbours.

Oh, and I must get round to hassling the WMSC about getting that promised abstract image generating program available - if it's not on the internet a month or so before the Cambridge championship, I'm going to have to drop it from the schedule and acquire a poem instead, with all the attendant translation difficulties that entails.