I just did an anonymous test and it worked fine for me other than the capcha being so fiendish it took three refreshes to make it spell something I could figure out. I used the "Anonymous" profile (you have to pick one from a list). There aren't any moderated comments waiting to be let out of the pen.

First class travel. I have just upgraded from what was going to be four hours standing in the end of a carriage to a luxurious seat and free coffee for a mere £15. Privileged? Sure am.

Truly, it is wonderful to sit up in first class with a complimentary coffee and Wi-Fi and think of those down the other end, below the food car, and say to myself, "I'm posh and they're not."

You'll be drinking in the lounge bar next. As a friend once said to me while we were about to enter the UEA Union Bar: "You get a better class of scum in the lounge bar".

La Famile Stevie got upgraded to 1st class on a trans-Canada flight a couple of years ago. I was so impressed I wrote it up for mi blog.

[cfm] May I ask, without prejudice, if you are a person of the female variety?

[Phil] You cannot ask, and cfm is not required to tell you if you do. Because it's more fun that way.

Firing the Nerf Rapidstrike submachine gun. Top o' the world, ma!

Rare-breed pork chops bought from the butcher at home in Lincolnshire last week for dinner tonight in the Netherlands The pork here is shocking, and mostly reared indoors. These tasted soooo good.

[pen] Is it me, or is "rare-breed" pork so ubiquitous that one wonders just how "rare" these breeds are? It might just be a Berkshire thing, to be honest.

[Geo] Are you singing the second line of The Proclaimers' "I'm on my way"?

Puns. Endless puns. and reading back up the page I'd put a word in for Iain (M) Banks as a SF author worth reading... Also, should it be "an SF author"?

Listening to TMS at work

Hidden text

That's "Test Match Special". The BBC's incomparably excellent radio commentary on England's international cricket matches

[Geo] Not fair! It must give us two guesses! You are doing either:
a) Your Elvis Presley warm-ups prior to opening your Las Vegas drive-thru Chapel of Burnin' Love for the day

or

2) Your Tommy Cooper wind-up to the eggs/tray/water-filled glasses trick.

Discovering that my "Ten Years Without Gnawing A Leg Off" certificate bears the notorious doctored version of the city seal, in which the minuteman depicted on one side seems very pleased indeed to see the indian on the other.

Hidden text

Even when honoring me they give me the shaft.