... can't shoot them.

Political scandals don't come much juicier than the tale of Iris Robinson. Last night the people of Northern Ireland were enthralled as the current affairs programme Spotlight outlined all the sordid details of her financial and sexual affairs. It had all the ingredients of a good story, a holier-than-thou politician, infamous already for her strongly held religious views, bigotry and homophobia. An "inappropriate relationship" with a teenager 40 years her junior, who she had known since he was a child. Add in money, abuse of power and a couple of property developers and you've got yourself a scandal with a capital S.

In legal and political terms, the money is the issue here. She broke the law by not declaring her financial interest in her young lover's business, and her dodgy dealings could yet see her husband ousted from his position as First Minister of the Northern Irish Assembly. But that's not why this story has captured everyone's imagination. That's not why there are countless jokes and spoof posters circulating around the internet. This is a saucy bit of sexual scandal, everyone's favourite kind of revelation, and nobody who has had to put up with her judgemental preaching about sexual immorality for years on end could fail to see the irony.

As always, in situations like this, a Tom Lehrer song pops into my head. This is one of my favourites, it's called Smut, as introduced by the man himself with the immortal words:

"I do have a cause though, it is obscenity. I'm for it..."

I think we all are, really :)

While I'm sitting in front of a computer screen waiting for yet another calculation to finish, I often think of places I'd rather be, things I'd rather be doing. Yesterday I got thinking about my favourite place of all, the Chamonix valley. If I could live anywhere in the world, I think it would be there. The only snag I can see is that if I did live there I'd never do any work. Yes there's all the skiing and the hiking, the wine and the cheese, but more importantly, they've got treetop adventure parks. I could quite happily spend every day in the treetops, tightrope walking and zip-lining, overlooking the valley. It'll kill your arms and it'll rip your hands to shreds but you'll go back, time and time again, because it's like being in a kids playground again, and the police never come to take you away.

On one of our trips we made this video. It's gakky and cheesy, but this is what I daydream about most :)

(apologies for the soundtrack)

Unfortunately Bose-O's life was cut tragically short. As soon as our backs were turned some little shit came and kicked his head off. I have a feeling he's the same kind of dimwitted child who throws snowballs at cars.

I haven't made a snowman since. It's too soon.

So the world's tallest building, the Burj Dubai, is set to open today. It seems to have been greeted with universal scorn and a fair bit of tutting.

It's dreadfully uncool to say this, but I love it. In fact, I love the whole city. Yes I realise it was a financial disaster waiting to happen, a blind man on a galloping horse could have seen that years ago. Yes, it sums up in one small piece of desert everything which I normally hate about the world. Yes it's big, and brash, and tasteless. Yes it has an absolutely appalling record of human rights. But I'm not here to make moral judgements (today), all I know is that it's a bloody fantastic place to visit. If you love buildings and engineering works of all shapes and sizes, it's the place to go. The skyscrapers there are hideous and stunningly beautiful in equal measure.

I had an amazing holiday in Dubai in the summer of 2006. At that stage the Burj Dubai was only a wee pup of a skyscraper, around 50 floors, and I found it almost impossible to imagine the scale of the finished building. I managed to dig out a picture of the skyline of Dubai City from my visit, you can see the beginnings of the Burj Dubai on the left hand side. The second picture, of the finished tower, is the closest I could find to the same perspective. You can see that the stretch of buildings along the Sheik Zayed road on the right hand side (which were huge!) are completely dwarfed by the new tower.

I think there's a part of human nature that just wants to see how far we can go. How big, how high, how fast. As a child I used to get the Guinness Book of Records every Christmas, and I loved seeing which records had been broken. The big kid in me looks forward to seeing what feat of engineering tops this :)

(photo 2 from Imre, www.verticaldubai.com)

(download)

Click here to download:

Burj_Dubai_-_I_remember_you_wh.zip (132 KB)

The landlord has been phoned. I was very diplomatic, stopping well short of accusing the folks in D but, in Terry's words, "it's bloody obvious it was them". He's going to sort it out today and have a word with them. Hopefully that'll be the end of the matter.

Two other bins are also in the street filled with similar crap, both belong to Flat D. The bins of Flats A and B are still in their proper places, and are empty. Our bin was also empty at 8pm yesterday, because it's not being collected for another week and we've been away.

We've put up with the odd beer can or pizza box magically appearing in it, but this is something else. If it's not sorted we won't have anywhere to put our rubbish for the next week, and that's not pleasant.

I know the people in Flats A and B, a couple and a single guy, and they are lovely. I know for a fact the rubbish doesn't belong to them. Flat D is inhabited by 5 male students, I don't know if they're lovely or not.

So what conclusions should I come to? Bearing in mind that there aren't many students living on my street, a quiet leafy place full of old peoples' homes and posh families in £2million houses. That some random person (who clearly has a scummy student-like lifestyle) has come round to the back of our house and filled our bins with rubbish, for some reason only choosing to fill the bins marked C and D? Or that the wasters in Flat D have decided that their flat is a health hazard and cleared out all of the shit that's been piling up for months?

We decided the second option was more likely, so we confronted one of them this morning. The chap said that there was nobody else in his flat, and that he knew nothing about the bins, but would call round later this evening when he had spoken to his flatmates. If he doesn't we'll be calling the landlord, or possibly the police. Is that a bit drastic? I think it technically is an offence, and you can get fined for it. The police station is at the end of my street, maybe I should wheel the bin down to them :P (I'm not actually a crazy lady, but I could be pushed to it)

I think this is a perfect example of why a "pay as you throw" system was never going to work. I've always thought those people who buy locks for their bins are mental, wondered how anyone could ever get protective over a place you put rubbish, but I've surprised myself with how angry I am. Some things are sacred, and that list now includes our bin.