It’s just not cool to simply photograph the Google Street View car any more. And finding yourself on Street View is just so passé.

The trick now is to photograph the Street View car and match it up with the photo it takes of you.

You may remember that last summer I was strolling along Cleveland Street in search of some lunch, when the fabled Google Street car passed me, and looped the block. Indeed, I offered a drink to the first person to spot me.

It looks like I might have to buy myself that drink. Here’s a photo I took:

and here is me, about three seconds after taking it:

Check out Google itself for the full picture. If you look to the right you’ll see that chap in the white shirt has passed the pale concrete slab, and on the left those two pigeons have taken off in the time between my shot, and the Street View.

Hah. Gotcha, Google.

I’ve not ironed more than one shirt, or a couple of hankies, in a single session since I can’t remember when. K would expect me to iron her stuff as well as mine, which would be fine except she’d never do my shirts in return. I got really annoyed about it, and ended up not ironing anything. This wasn’t a problem while I was still an academentic; if ever I needed a smart shirt I’d just do one.

Nowadays I like to look a bit smarter though—I even wore a tie to work a week ago, which really got people wondering—and so my nice or dress shirts are getting a bit crumpled. Jenny is away at a lab retreat tonight, so I’ve put some of my fave tunes on the Bose, poured myself some cider and got down to it.

I’ll… be back in another seven years, maybe.

“I’ll retract the rape complaint from the wombat, because he’s pulled out, [...] Apart from speaking Australian now, I’m pretty all right you know, I didn’t hurt my bum at all,” Cradock then told the operator.

Please, to stop the laughing.  It hurts.