Because of the aching chasm in my TV schedule I have started searching for professional lookalikes of the great man. It is my plan that  by hiring one such person to come round to my flat, generally hangout, and occasionally shout about someone being a shambles I can repeat the Apprentice experience without being exposed to Katie. Which can't be bad.

Sadly, judging by the quality of some of the lookalikeys out there. The only person saying, "You're fired" will be me. Ah well, there is always the next series.

Because MPs are expected to sit around patiently waiting for their chance to pipe up during Prime Ministers Question time  - this can take as long as six hours - there have been complaints that they are being stopped from doing other, more important things. Things like what? Well, checking, receiving and sending emails. Apparently. 

So, because they were denied access to their CrackBerry devices – and others presumably - during this "down time" there was something of a revolt. Now the Commons Modernisation Committee has agreed that the pocket devices can be used, so long as they are switched to silent or vibrate. This will, of course, revolutionise government, because now MPs will not have to wait to find out whether someone has 'poked' them on FaceBook, or commented on one of their MySpace photos. 

I, for one, am sure that they cannot wait to pull the thing out of their trousers and get it back in their hands. 

Meanwhile, over the pond in France the SGDN, which is responsible for national security, has banned their use because of the fear of data and information falling into the hands of the other nations. This is because BlackBerry servers live either in the >US or in the >UK

Of course, this won't be a problem in the  UK, since the US probably told those MPs what to email anyway.

Ooh. Politics.

I am not actually that old, which is why I can be enthused about tat that features Star Wars characters, and er, USB attachments. 

Okay, so I might not be as old as I seem, but I probably do need to get out more. Anyway. I want one of these. I have never actually seen one in a shop – and if I had, I would have had to go without lunch that day.

Despite appearances, they are probably not cheap.

Oh, apparently only a handful were ever made, which makes it very unlikely that one will ever fall into my hands. Even if I promised to review it.  To be fair, that would go like this. "Plugged it in. moved some files on to it. Unplugged it. It looks like Chewbacca!!" 

So, I guess no one really missed out on anything there at all.

But I can't. Where are the dynamic lines? The suggestion of sportiness? The Eddie the Eagle triumph out of adversity spirit? The beach volleyball women?

Nowhere to be seen!

Instead, we get this thing – four strange, spikey items, which after a while I realised spelled out 2012 in graffiti, or tagger style- writing. Hmm. An interesting choice in a city that claims to spend billions of pounds a year paying a bloke called Col to come along with one of those high powered hoses and wash similar stuff off walls whenever it appears.

Well, if that is the impression that we want to give to our global neighbours then so be it.  I might volunteer to let a few dogs run wild through the streets and drop litter all over the shop. Well, it would be in keeping with the London Olympics spirit.

Apparently.

This is one of those great stories where everyone is a winner – so long as by everyone you mean the poor, downtrodden, hand to mouth living, music publishers and record companies we have in the UK - and not the young –e-upstart CDWow, or its many customers.

CDWow was at fault for, or was accused of, illegally importing cut-price CDs from Hong Kong and selling them to people like me, or you. Well, maybe not you, you look like you listen to crystal radio sets. Either way, the British music industry's attack dog – the BPI  - has been gnawing at its legs for six years – and finally has drawn blood.

Thanks to a High Court judgement CDWow will have to pay some £37m to the BPI which in turn will dish it out to record company execs, who will probably give it to charity or something. In announcing its victory some great quotes have floated out from the BPI, like this one. "CDWow is no consumer champion…"

Well, I have to say that it has done alright by me. Used to anyway.

Can you imagine how scary that would have been if you were watching 'that scene' in Silence of the Lambs? It would be like being plunged into predatory pervert-a-vision - and worse yet, without expecting it. 

The reason for this creepy attire isn't just to see who has their hand in their neighbours' popcorn, but is apparently part of a plan to stamp out cinema piracy. Said ushers are creeping about the sticky, popcorn strewed aisles in the hope of spotting someone using a hand-held video recorder or mobile phone to pirate films – a mobile phone!? To pirate a film? Good luck! 

But, why are they bothering? The last time I went to the cinema I was exposed to three very large women who were all eating from bags of crisps and talking constantly. It was like sitting behind the judging panel at the 'ball up tin foil and tear up cardboard' finals 2007. If you had wanted to pirate the film we were watching you would have been wasting your time – unless you were making a film for mastication fetishists. 

I am yet to see a watchable 'camera in the aisle' film anyway. It seems to me that the pirate DVDs to watch out for, ie the good ones, are the ones ripped from screener copies or leaked - or lost - by someone working for the film production company. If you have to watch pirated films, then these are at least tolerable - even with the absurd subtitles. The over the shoulder camera holder ones are not. 

So please, film companies, get your own lives in order and stop sneaking around hassling cinema goers. Much of what can be called the "piracy problem" is internal to you, it's not in screen six of the Malaysian multiplex.

A British climber has set a world record by making a mobile phone call from the top of Mount Everest.  In the early hours of 21 May, Rod Baber made two calls from the mountain's north ridge. The first to an unknown, (I am guessing that it was a mini cab firm) and the second to his wife and kids.

In the first call he complained about the cold, and how much he was looking forward to going back to base station – real adrenaline fuelled stuff! What did he say in the call to the family…?   

"I've made it.. let's get married again!" 

"Next year, Tenerife?"

"Need help. Angry snow tigers…."

Or, 

"I think I left the iron on…."? 

We will probably never know, but one thing is for sure he could have at least pretended to be on 'Who wants to be a millionaire'.

I have no worries in the length department – well, at least I have nothing to compare my own against, so I am able to ignore most of the herbal treats that come my way. 

When it comes to the money offers, I know I don’t earn oodles of cash but I can always afford to eat (porridge and ramen noodles). So I am not that bothered about countless millions being deposited in my account. 

Nevermind the fact that most of the mails are woefully bad. This morning's choice mail comes from Mr ignatius Account Officer, Capital Trust Bank – which is a strange name indeed. Mr Account Officer has a certified international bank draft for me worth $1,200,000.00, which he says he cashable everywhere in the world. 

CASHABLE?! I will have that in fivers, please… 

Not really, I don't have a briefcase large enough to drag that out of the bank. So instead I will offer it to you, dear readers. 

You can mail Mr Officer at ignatius_uju@myway.com if you want to get involved. As he says, "Please I will like you to accept this tokenwith good faith as this is from the bottom of my heart." 

In the meantime I really hope that no spam spiders get hold of the address and clog his mailbox up. I would hate to think that he couldn't get the responses from people that he was looking for.

If these are some of our international colleagues I demand a meeting with them.
And soon.

preferably after they stop the St Vitus dancing though..

During my stay in the sanitorium I intended to spend a lot of time watching Joost, the online TV thing that people are clamouring over each other to get an invite to. So, i did what anyone else in my position would do.

No, not call my friends - they can't even get an invite to appear in court. In fact I sent an email (full of pleading and begging) to the PR company involved, and, a couple of days later, I had access. 

Unfortunately, my laptop didn't want to play, choosing instead to be incapable of running the necessary software.

Which is more or less the story of my life.

But, fear not reader, my work PC is more than up to the task so I shall make it my mission to spend as much time as possible sitting in the office at my desk, watching telly, now that I am back in almost full employment. It is a small sacrifice for me, and it is all in the name of research. 

Kinda.

However, I was sent a release about a new one from Sony which on paper sounds brilliant, but judging by the image that accompanied the release, is more confusing than that form I filled in that time for a mail order bride.

Colin, when he arrived was a male order bride. I still haven't got my money back, and he still can't make a decent cup of tea. However, he is a very good map reader.

Sir Alan's half barked, half chewed out of his mouth statement reminded me of the dreadful Sugar-head-fingerpointing-unit that was released after the last series finished.

Of course it had something to do with charity, but that was really no excuse to release such a terrible item into the hands of anything but belligerent dogs. 

Why not one of the gelled hair monkeys thought to buy up what is probably a massive surplus of the units as dog chews will forever be a mystery to me. Call themselves entrepreneurs?

This week that country said that it would block foreign porn sites as it continues to attempt to limit the amount of adult material on the internet. According to a report in the Times the country has blocked some 211 sites, so perhaps it might be time for a cup of tea.

After all, there can only be about a billion more to find.

The research, which appears in the Journal of Experimental Psychology found that men who had been playing computer games were more likely to overtake or race other drivers once they leapt in their electric horse carts. (It is not know whether women who had been playing computer games waved their steering wheel around like they were diving for water with it before mashing every single button on their dashboard.) 

To be honest, this sounds fairly obvious. I can remember when the Sinclair 48k came out and I found it impossible to complete a simple mining expedition - in the real world - without getting into confrontations with elephantine creatures or hopping over rapidly disintegrating platforms. I can't help but wonder whether if I had not been playing Manic Miner all weekend I might have avoided such situations. 

What is next I wonder? The staggering revelation that after playing a computer game you are more likely to be very gung-ho and lob grenades about with wild abandon when fighting off hordes of invading aliens with spiders for faces and laser beams for legs? 

Probably not.

I am a subscriber to an email newsletter called, MonkeyWire – something that probably won't surprise too many people that know me. 

This morning I received an email from the group that started like this: 

Chimp to undergo second vasectomy
Watch video at:

http://www.ktbs.com/viewnews.cfm?news_id=547&title=Chimp%20to%20undergo%20second%20vasectomy

I dare not click that link for fear of what it might lead me to. Either way, poor monkey...