"These bloody people. I can't bear that man. I mean, he's so awful, he really is."

Prince Charles was patently not in the mood today. When fielded a banal question by royal correspondant Nicholas Witchell, he answered tersley.

Then under his breath, but picked up by the sensitive microphones present he moaned to William and Harry about having to do the photocall. This was apparently a gaff, and the press have made a great deal of fuss about it.

But... does anyone really care that Prince Charles dislikes journalists? The media sure, because they are journalists, but I feel with many people he may have improved their opinions.
Add that to the fact that Nicholas was reportedly not well liked amongst his colleagues following his breaking of the NUJ strike in the 80s to present nearly every BBC news bulletin going, hence his being sidelined into the role of "Royal Corespondant".

What a week

Saturday, Doctor Who returns along with the Nestene animated Autons, then on Tuesday it is revealled the episode was a smash hit in the ratings, with 10.5 million people watching at one point with Ant and Dec averaging 7.8.

Then on Today it was announced that the BBC had greenlighted another series for 2006, with a Christmas special for later this year.

However it's a roller-coaster as I've just heard that the news is out that Christopher Eccleston has decided not to continue in the lead role for another year and the role will be recast yet again. Was it fears of being typecast, the absolutely hysterical media attention, the 84 hour weeks, or being faced with the reality of his likeness as 9 inch tall plastic action figure. Who can tell?

We shouldn't grumble. From all accounts there are 12 excellent episodes yet to come to Saturday nights, and possibly a Christmas special. And next year 13 more with a brand new Doctor. It's an interesting time to be a Doctor Who fan.

And tomorrow it's back to work for a rest

Think I've been overdoing it, just come back from the fith day in a row delivering letters. Four were spent delivering for Greg in Leeds North West, and one for John in Manchester Withington. I feel a little worn out. That's nearly 2000 houses.

Well...

That was good.

I watched Doctor Who as I suppose it should be watched- with my family in Manchester. I will hvae to watch it again as I couldn't hear half the dialog. My sister was worried about Emily having nightmares, but Darren reconed she wouldn't reemember any of it.

It is Doctor Who stripped down to its bare essentials, all the technobable explainations and build up cut out and straight to the adventure. 8/10 but I'm sure future episodes will be better.

Of the other bloggers around and about I've only found comment from Neil. Will is busy and Nick has yet to be drawn back to his keyboard.

Hazel, who yesterday evening was getting more and more manic over the thought of new Doctor Who and the Tory party in crisis, no longer has a blog. If anyone wants to read a joke about the latter, go and read either Nick or Will's blog.

Update Will and Nick have now had their say, and Nick's say is quite a long and considered one too.

Do you know what year this is? (Part 2)

OK as part of the review of the sprawling web that is my finances I decided to open one of thosehigh interest regular savers account. I'm already a customer with the financial institution in question and it is the only such account that doesn't make demands on where my salary is paid.

So I expected to go into the branch, identify myself and the fact I wanted to open one of these accounts, have them press the "open regular savers" button, hand over the cheque, and leave with the standing order form to give to my main bank.

How wrong I was. For a start they refused to set up my account there and then, saying I needed to book an appointment. In this day and age? So I went and set up my account over the phone with a chap at the call centre. I then had to verify myself in the branch. What a fuss. All to open an account that I knew I wanted because I'd taken the time to look into it properly beforehand.

Do these people not want my custom?

Do you know what year this is?

Had a bit of fun with banking today. As we are so often reminded, well I am at least, it is nearly the end of the tax year, and the last chance to use up our ISA allowance. So I'm going round all my bank accounts, finding all the bits of money I had squirrelled away to stop me sqandering it on Scout uniform and enamel badges with little yellow birds on them. The idea is to put it into my instant access ISA where more often than not it will earn much more interest, and still be available should I need it. I've even put the money I need to pay my credit card bill off in there.

But what boggled me, was that I'd chosen to transfer some of the money from an account at the same building society by internet, and pay in some in person in cash. I cheerfully handed my passbook and my huge wodge of cash over to the counter assistant. To find there is a problem.

It seems the computer doesn't want to update my book. Why? Because I'd made an internet transfer earlier this lunch hour and it needed some time to update. My book will be posted to me soon.

It was like the 21st century had never happened.

I'm begining to see what I got from my old fashioned high street bank with its low current account interest and stuffy image.

I'm not thinking what they're thinking

Few of us can have failed to be irritated by the recent adverts for the Conservative party. Those that have either pay no attention to advertising posters (well done) or must have somthing wrong with them.

If you've tuned them out the posters consist of an inane statement or rhetorical question written in as if in someone's hadwriting, followed by the strap line "Are you thinking what we're thinking?" Quite frankly it disturbs me that someone thinks the future of this country could lie in the hand of people who respond to such rubbish. They are the sort of lines that wouldn't seem out of place coming from a stereotypical taxi driver. Shallow, predudiced and just plain wrong.

And it seems eminately lampoonable. Anders Hanson highlighted one very good example when they first started coming out, and more have cropped up since.

Weekend

Yesterday i had my first lie in in weeks, I slept in until midday.

After helping my dad with his new PC went over to Leeds for a social with the Leeds NW team. On the way got snapped by a speed camera. Will have to be more careful.

Not much else to report as I've either not had anything to blog, or there's been stuff I don't want to blog about.

55 pounds lighter

That was expensive training.

OK the Training itself was good, but East Lancs Scouts have a uniform outlet on site at Bowley and I bought myself a uniform polo so I wont feel over dressed when I turn up on a wednesday in Uniform and the Explorers hadn't bothered themselves. Then I thought- while I'm at it, why not buy a sweatshirt. And a fellowship necker. And, oh, I haven't got a Eurojam badge on my uniform

Still it could have been worse, that lot would have set me back £20 more if I'd shopped via Outdoors on the web.

10 modules trained for or validated, 8 left.

New links

Just found these new links for MediaWatchUK and Christian Voice.

No rest

So... after a packed weekend what's coming up?

Tonight I get to meet people locally, when I go to a meeting of Lib Dems in Skipton. Tomorrow is a night off, so I'll be trying to have an early night. Perhaps I'll watch Twisted Tales that I recorded last night due to that rubbish Shirley Ghostman bumping it out of its earlier slot.

On Wednesday it'll be Explorers where James and Lesley are being presented with their woodbadges, and we'll be planning a Youth Hostel weekend.

On Saturday it's more Scout training, where I'm sitting Modules 5, 7 and 8. And on Sunday back to Hull again to help Jon Neal to ditch David Davis. Been meaning to go back there since January, especially since I left a notepad of mine behind. (SAGGA members need not comment on this last revelation.)

More training

Got back late last night after having drinks in a hotel bar with other people from the Yorkshire and Humber region. Hence I was a little tired at first aid training.

I am wondering if this was the reason I felt a little hot and uncomfortable at times, or whether it was because I was squemish. I never felt off during life guide training, so I assume I was just under the weather.

Day Tripper

I'm in Harrogate today. Just killing some time while my ID badge is prepared, and blogging courtesey of those nice people on the BBC Tees bus.

Someday everyone will bank this way.

I'm in the process of opening a new current account, one that pays interest at greater than the level of inflation. So I've got my new Cheque book, my account numbers, my Visa Delta card, envelopes to send cheques to the processing centre in Bootle, my PIN for phone banking for the current account, my PIN for phone banking with the compulsary associated savings account, my PIN for the card, my internet banking number, and my internet PIN. That's a lot of PINs to remember.

The internert ID is a 12 digit number. That's long enough for everyone in the world to have one, and still two digits left over for a checksum.

This brings the number of financial institutions that I have accounts with to 9, and I shudder to think how many accounts.

Last night on digital TV

Emotionally wounded by the death of his father, Hamish MacBeth, and the events four years previously at Hillsbourgh stadium, he snaps when confronted by a shop keeper who argues over 4p. He goes home shaves his head to fit the football hooligan stereotype, and kills the shopkeeper. He then goes on to kill the criminal psychologist on the case for what he says about him. The whole thing then becomes a revenge kick for Hillsborough and his fathers death.

The police team, headed by Doctor Who and Lilly Potter, initially dismiss Rubeus Hagrid, who then goes home to his wife, Rose Marie, and says how much he likes police work. Rubeus is rehired when it is found he is right about the shopkeepers killer.

Hagrid, Doctor Who, Lilly and other police officers go on a house to house enquiry with an e-fit of Hamish. When a policeman eventually calls on Hamish, Hamish takes the photos of the victims of his wall while the policeman’s back is turned then uses a letter from the hospital to his father to claim he lost his hair due to cancer.

Meanwhile Rose Marie moves out of Hagrid’s house taking their daughter with her.

While shopping in Asda, Doctor Who spots Hamish MacBeth and runs after him. Hamish lures Doctor Who back to his house and stabs him. Hagrid works out who has stabbed Doctor Who and where he his and he and Lilly drive across Manchester to find him dying in the street.

In later episodes the police replace Doctor Who with Jim Royle.