Only one, but when has that ever stopped us?

From the Lightbulb Joke Warehouse.

Fore those of you who find metaclasses just too simple, check out the How-To Guide for Descriptors

I'll find the time to digest this later. Right now, I'm just saving the link.

Via the suddenly hyperactive Python Daily URL.

Buy me one of these, and I'll feel better - What do Python programmers like?

Via Slices of Py.

At somewhere around five in this morning, I woke up with hideous cramp in my left calf. Really painful. I waited until it subsided, then went back to sleep.

The alarm call came at 6:45 - 15 minutes early. I made the fatal mistake of letting my head touch the pillow again, and BANG, suddenly it's half past eight.

I jumped out of bed, only to discover that my left leg isn't working. The cramp must have pulled something. I really must remember to warm up and do my stretches before getting cramp next time. Anyway, I hobble to the shower.

I make it to my client's office, limp and all, by nine. (No time for breakfast.) Only to find that I've left my mobile, its charger, and crucially, the power converter back at the hotel.

Ever had one of those days?

Another good night out.

I went to the Leidseplein again, 'cos I was especially keen to go to Bourbon Street and the Wednesday night resident band, The Bourbon Boys. Of which, more later.

As I did yesterday, I got the tram to Fredericksplein, and walked from there. But rather than walk along the main road, I dived into the back streets. Many of which were, in fact, canals. Amsterdam really is a lovely place. Green, quiet, elegant old buildings. It feels rather old-fashioned, in a good way - people were sitting outside their houses, playing badminton. (That bit wasn't a canal.)

After some rather un-memorable (and rather overdone) pasta, I went to Bourbon Street. The reason I was particularly keen to go last night was that Tom, a Solaris sysadmin at the company I'm visiting, is on drums there on Wednesdays. I was also meeting his flat mate, Ingrid, whom I've met before, and she brought along another nice chap whose name I couldn't remember if you put a gun to my head.

Excellent band. The first couple of sets were blues, mostly covers, mostly Eric Clapton covers, in fact. A couple of nice original numbers, too. Then a set of rock, old and new (from Chuck Berry to Robin Williams via the Beatles and the Stones, amongst others). Then, one more blusey set before oh-shit-is-that-the-time.

The rhythm section was tight and pacey, driving everything along nicely. I couldn't take them entirely seriously when they did some high-pitched backing vocals, though - you want skinny girls in tight dresses for your backing vocals, everybody knows that. And it's not like Amsterdam is short of skinny girls... The Pianist was fairly jazzy, but it seemed to work. The guitarist and singer (an ex-pat Londoner) played awesome slide and lead, and had a gravelly voice, which probably ended his operatic career, but which suits blues and rock just fine.

For some reason, they played this gig under the name 'Bourbon Street Unplugged'. I can't think why. Acoustic guitar and bass, yes, but wired for sound. Even the Piano was well amplified, which makes a nice change. The only thing that was unplugged was the decibel monitor.

Yes, a really good night, on the whole. A bit on the late side for me, though - I'm used to pubs which close at eleven. Two and three on consecutive nights is not what I'm used to. Things didn't start to go pear shaped, though, until I got back to the hotel...