I've just spent half an hour convincing a septic bird I work with that from now on discussing timings is going to be really difficult. The reason is you see that since 1 Jan we British have been forced by the EU to adopt Metric Time. "You know" I said, "20 hours in a day, 50 minutes an hour, 100 seconds a minute". I'm not sure what was most pleasing, the fact that she believed me or the memories this blatant bullsh1tting brought back of lying to women in provincial nightclubs throughout the land. To date I've been (as far as I can remember): A dolphin trainer A biscuit designer (I mean you don't think the ripples on a chocolate hob-nob get there by accident do you?) An underwater wood welder ("You can't weld underwater" she said ) A monkey keeper at Whipsnade Zoo Swedish Frank Spencer (from Marks & Spencer, don't you know) And once, memorably, a Tom. On sick leave. After picking up Dutch Elm Disease in the Balkans ("I've heard of that, can't it be nasty?" she said, before giving me a sympathy fcuk) But is this walting? Or is it perfectly acceptable in the pursuit of the game of twenty toes? If acceptable, what other great blags are there out there?