Task 7 - Balls

Little Blogger here.

Hope you're all feeling especially randy this morning.
On the same train of thought, NML, your requests await you in the Diary Room.

I've been at the Skittles again, so if I say something incriminating please ignore me.

Little Blogger is the designated taskmaster for this week, and I've decided to keep you lot on your toes. Therefore, whilst you still have about 13.5 hours left to complete the festival task, I'm going to set yet another task for you, and there's nothing you can do about it! I am SO MEAN (although I'm actually nice as well; work that one out...).

This is the token 'Sport' task, and I've chosen to set it now because it's Wimbledon/Ashes/Lions vs All Blacks time again. That wonderful time of the year when we realise, as a nation, that despite inventing these frigging sports and being so proud about it and bigging up our chances every single year, we are actually totally rubbish at them and always (always) get our arses thoroughly whooped silly.

Can this ever change? Will the good times ever return?

Not unless YOU do something about it, they won't!

Your task is to come up with a new national sport cum pastime. Something preferably ultra-British, as the general idea here is to make this sport - unlike football, cricket, tennis and rugby - something that we'll be good at. And if there was ever a World Cup of this sport we would definitely win it. All the time. Something like championship pencil-sharpening, except perhaps slightly more exciting (plus I've used that as an example so you can't use it).

Please produce, by Tuesday, a fully developed brief for this new sport. We're going to need to see:

A) A concept
B) A name
C) Full rules and regulations
D) Possible venues

If your idea is a good'un we'll send it off to be patented and hopefully make a fortune off of your innovation! (Big Blogger's words, not mine)

So off you go. The clock is ticking.




In other news, the new poll goes up in an hour or so. Everyone is up for eviction, and two will definitely go next Wednesday. So far, through no fault of their own, the public haven't been able to enforce their will upon the house. So even though he's been voted out twice, Dr Rob is STILL in the house. Surely this can't happen a third time??

I'm no psychic, but I think I'm going to pop down Ladbrokes and put a tenner on the good Doctor getting the chop next week.

And if anyone has any special dietary requests (chocolate gateau, king prawns and chilli sauce - that kind of thing..), or anything else you might desire, please march yourselves henceforth in the direction of the Diary Room where I've set up a little stall and will be taking orders for the weekend from midday today onwards.

Right, I'm off to make myself an iced coffee.