P-p-p-p.

Did Tim Berners-Lee (or Uncle Tim, as he is in my head - you can't invent my internet and not be a kindly uncle figure) imagine loads of porn when he invented the internet? He probably had a vast vision of a global utopia of interconnectivity and millions striving with one voice to achieve world peace. Instead nothing gets done because we spend hours writing blog posts and that. Or looking at penguins.

But I love the penguins. The penguins are killers.

Of productivity, that is. Although an army of flesh-eating penguins would make for an amusingly apocalyptic sight. We had a discussion the (my temporary) office the other day about the Edinburgh Zoo penguins - between squeals of delight at one of them doing something (this lasted a good hour) we were wondering what they do a night.

The consensus was that they really don't sleep very much, but they do lounge around and congratulate each other for coming up with such wonderful puns.

I fully believe that penguins can write jokes - if we can stick a million monkeys in a room with Olivettis who's to say that McVities hasn't done the same with our little bird friends and it turns out they have the comedic touch? In fact, I was just saying this the other day to an Englishman, Irishman and Scotsman who walked into the bar.