Monday, October 31, 2005

Interesting phenomenon, part 2

I have been keeping a close eye on this particular phenomenon for a number of years because, for obvious reasons, I wouldn't want to test the theory out on purpose.

I have discovered that, on the rare and infrequent times I get BO, it only seems to occur under my LEFT armpit. Never the right. Why would this be?

I treat each armpit equally in the shower and with antiperspirant products, and yet when I get a slight pong (and again I must stress, this is highly infrequently, and only after prolonged periods of extreme temperature) it is only ever on the left side.

Has anyone else noticed strange non-symmetrical body happenings? (No comments about testicles please.)

Sunday, October 30, 2005

Britain's Best Road?

If a directory of Britain Best Roads existed then naturally the A1 would be at the top. This is not just because of it's fortuitous name but also because, in my opinion, it is actually Britain's Best Road.

This afternoon I drove back to Scotland along the A1 and even though the journey is long, (5 hours) and in many ways tedious, there are a number of highlights the A1 offers to make the journey just that bit more palatable.

There is something romantic about the notion of a single road that goes from London To Edinburgh. All along the way there are signposts for places with wonderfully evocative names: Twizell, Brownieside (full of little girls in brownie uniforms standing along the verges), Coldstream, Guyzance (very confused french people who live in Northumberland), Cockle park, and possibly the best place name ever: Wide Open (who knows what THEY get up to).

The A1 offers two of my favourite pieces of art and architecture. The Angel of the North stands on a hill as the road sweeps down into Gateshead and Newcastle. The sculpture is absolutely beautiful. I always get a funny prickling sensation on the back of my neck when I see it.
Also one of my all time favourite buildings is best viewed at night from the A1. It may sound a weird choice but honestly, the Torness nuclear power stations is an absolute gem. This image is not the best but it gives you an idea.

The A1 also boasts a strange time travel anomaly. 32 miles from Edinburgh there is a sign proclaiming that you are 32 miles from Edinburgh. You carry on driving for 10 minutes, and lo and behold! Another sign proclaiming you are 32 Miles for Edinburgh! Did those 10 minutes of driving actually happen?

The other great thing about a long drive up the A1 for me is 5 hours of unadulterated BBC Radio 4. If Nick is in the car with me then it's Radio 5 and I'm not so happy, but I love him so it's a small price to pay. I know this one is not strictly A1 specific but it seems that only on solitary journeys to England and back do I have the opportunity to listen without any interruptions.

So, Ladies and Gentlemen, I put it to you: the A1 - Britain's Best Road.

Saturday, October 29, 2005

Sunny Scunny

I admit it, I have run away from my disaster zone house. I have come home to Scunthorpe, primarily to use the washing machine, but seeing my family is not bad either.

On arrival this afternoon I made a discovery. The remote control key fob for my car sets off my parent's door bell. They have been plagued by this electronic mix-up for months because the neighbour's key fob also does this. Now they never know if they have genuine visitors, or if the neighbour is going out for a pint of milk. Very unsettling!

It's a grown up version of pressing the bell and running away. Amusing possibilities are forming in my mischievous mind...

Friday, October 28, 2005

is this the best 'hold' music in the world?

I have spent a delicious 3 minutes on hold to the De Dietrich Customer Service Telephone line.

I was highly entertained by the hold music: a fabulous full orchestral version of Gimme a man after midnight, by Abba. I was actually disappointed when I got to the front of the queue and the woman answered.

Should any of you wish to hear this musical treat, or indeed wish to find out about the finer points of inductions hobs and ovens, then feel free to call: 0870 060 3230

Time for a new bag?

I have previously discussed my green tea consumption in this blog, and have bragged about the length of time a bag was lasting me.

Well, I think the gods heard me and have exacted their revenge.

I found a pubic hair in amongst the tea leaves. I wouldn't like to imagine how on earth it got there, but all of my colleagues have had their fingers in that bag. There is now a debate on whether it is time for me to get a new bag.

This goes against my principles as it will completely ruin my 'pence per cup' ratio, but maybe some things are more important?

Thursday, October 27, 2005


I've tried super hard not to become a DIY bore. I think you'll agree that I have managed fairly successfully (leaking bathroom aside) to refrain from endlessly talking about our ongoing house renovation.

However tonight I feel like my life has been upheaved (does that word exist?) so much that I can't ignore it any longer.

Due to a weird arrangement of pipes the builders have had to remove our kitchen sink. We will be without it until next Tuesday. We put on a brave face and sat down to watch telly by peering through a gap in the enormous pile of kitchen carcasses that are stacked in the living room. After eating a delicious meal of baked potatoes microwaved behind the sofa and dished up on the stairs, we went to the bathroom to wash the plates in the basin. That was when we realised the boiler didn't work and so there was no hot water.

It was at this point my smile went a bit thin and I called the builders to find out why the boiler was broken. After talking it through, the builder saying 'oh shit' and using my excellent powers of deduction we worked out it was an electrical fault. I wiggled a socket and ping! The boiler worked.

So, I may be sinkless, have a cabinet mountain blocking the TV, and be dishing up microwaved food on the stairs but at least I can wash my hair tomorrow.

All is well with the world.

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

how to make women feel good about themselves

I just saw an advert for a Loreal anti-aging cream that I can't quite believe. Their new slogan is:

"Don't let yourself go"

ManTip: do not buy your wives/girlfriends this cream for Christmas. You might as well just come out and say 'Sorry love, but you're letting yourself go a bit'. This is guaranteed to result in a slap on the chops.

As a woman who currently scrutinises her emerging wrinkles in the mirror every morning, this is a subject close to my heart. The problem is - I can't help these new wrinkles appearing! I'm not letting myself go, I'm just getting older! I laugh alot, which accounts for most of the wrinkles around my eyes (I like to think) and I'm too busy and poor to spend hours in a beauty salon getting treatments for my face.

We all know that the media's portrayal of women is skewed and we shouldn't try to aspire to look like models, but I amit it: I want to be slim, I want to be beautiful, and just at the moment I want to look young. There are enough reasons to feel guilty in this life. Being told that if I have a few wrinkles then I'm 'letting myself go' is one guilt trip I am keen to avoid, if it's all the same.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to examine my wrinkles. Humph

Charlie and Bob

Would you want to be stuck in a lift with these two ?


I grinned from ear to ear when I looked at Chris's blog this lunchtime.

When I moved in with Nick and Chris we lived in cat soup - 3 cats in a terrace house was quite something. It was no secret that Jimmy was Nick's favourite cat, even though he was the biggest wus ever to roam the streets of Crookes. (the cat, not Nick)

Sadly we had to leave all the cats behind when we moved to Scotland and Chris bravely took on Tibbles and Jimmy. Maggie went to my Mum and Dads. Chris pretends he doesn't like Jimmy much but we all know different and these photos show just how well they get along. Lets face it, it's love.

As you can see from the snaps Jimmy doesn't half dribble and he used to jump on our bed every night and dribble on the duvet. I objected quite stongly to this and we tried to keep him out of the bedroom at night. Unfortunately Jimmy didn't really understand this concept and would throw himself at the door until whatever obstacle we had put in the way was moved and he could squeeze through the door, purring like an idiot.

Now we are pet-less we really miss the cats, so to see Chris's wonderful photos is a real treat - Thanks!

surreal morning

This morning I have:
a) Burnt my buttock on the towel rail. (I swear that bathroom is conspiring against me)
b) Stood on a plug with my bare foot.
c) Opened the door to our builder and discovered he was deaf. I was caught totally off guard and spent 20 mins scribbling notes to him on the back of the gas bill.

I have spent the last hour feeling guilty that I was so surprised he was deaf. I also feel guilty because for the first few minutes I was doubting his abilities as a builder. I also have a long sore burnt patch diagonally across my bum.

Tuesday, October 25, 2005


We have been having an interesting discussion this afternoon about fungi. It's truly amazing, neither plant nor animal.

My new project at work is plagued with the stuff. The fungus in this picture is the size of a 7 year old child and is a bit menacing if you ask me. I wouldn't want to be left alone with that thing pulsating in the corner. (the light is from me shining a torch at it. It definitely flinched. I saw it.)

The dry rot (a slight misnomer as it needs damp to live) has spead everywhere and we will probably have to strip out every bit of timber from this poor little building. These pictures put most people's damp problems into perspective!

Oh and there are some dead cats in there as well. I love my job.

From the sublime to the ridiculous

I heard 2 notable news stories on the radio this morning.

The first was the announcement of the death of Rosa Parks, the black woman who refused to give up her seat to a white man on the bus in 1955, and with this small act of defiance, changed history.

The second was a traffic announcement warning of a jam due to a lorry-load of lard on the motorway.

What a wonderful diverse world we live in.

Monday, October 24, 2005


I have a wound on my finger from stripping off ceramic tiles in my kitchen. I had to make an emergancy dash to Boots this lunch to buy plasters as it was bleeding all over my drawings.

Anyway, in order for me to feel better you have to say 'How's your wound?' and I have to say:


Office blues

This is where I work. 'How idyllic' I hear you cry!

Actually, No.

Today it is raining and those lovely oak doors finish an inch above the ground. Water is coming in under it and making a bid for my desk. The draught is chilling me to the bone. Those cute little windows? They are the reason we call our ofice the dungeon - it's soooo gloomy, and we have to have Rentokil around on a fortnightly basis to stop the mice nibbling our cables.

The view out of my window is NOT the beautiful garden that grows on the other side of the wall. No, it is of the backside of an old folks home. Everyday at 11.30 I get get a whiff of whatever the inmates are having for lunch. Today was fish fingers. They eat beans alot too.

I know there are worse places to work, and worse jobs to be stuck in, but today I just want to escape. Any tips on improving office morale would be gratefully received just now.

Sunday, October 23, 2005

Christmas Gift anyone?

I have just spent a happy half hour perusing this years edition of 'The Original Gift Company' Catalogue. It was cheekily tucked inside the Saturday paper and has provided me with much entertainment.

My favourite items include:

Silver napkin hook on a necklace, £24.95
This is a gadget that holds a napkin up to your chin so you don't dribble on your bosom. It's cunningly disguised as a necklace, and it's monogrammed so you won't forget who you are. As the catalogue says, its 'an elegant and ingenious gift'

The Ultimate Party Glass, £9.95
This is a specially designed glass that has a sort of groove around it's middle so it can hang on a cord around your neck while at parties. According to the catalogue, 'Its bellied shape nestles into your body to prevent spills, keeping it safe while you eat, smoke and dance.' Naturally, it's monogrammed. Well, you wouldn't want your Ultimate Party Glass getting mixed up with all the other Ultimate Party Glasses at the next big bash you're at, would you?

History of the cricket bat wall plaque, £49.95.
This is a plaque with miniature models of crickets bats stuck on in a row. It's supplied with an information sheet, so it must be worth £50.

Motorised coin sorter, £29.95, batteries not included.
I'm not sure if I was becoming acclimatised to the crapness in the catalogue by this point, but when I saw this I thought -Hey, thats cool - then I realised that it is actually really shit.

Has anyone ever bought any monogrammed monstrosities from one of these catalogues? Confess and your sins will be forgiven.

Saturday, October 22, 2005

Nick deteriorates...

Nicks 'Man Cold' has worsened. He thinks it may be Avian Flu. Naturally I am highly concerned.

Weird smell

Our new house REEKED when we moved in 5 weeks ago. Years of abuse from fags and cheap aftershave, this poor house had gradually accumulated an odour so bad for the first two weeks I gagged every time I opened the door. We hired a skip and banished all carpets, curtains and wallpaper. The smell finally went.

Or so I thought.

Today Nick started demolishing the strange wardrobe arrangement in the bedroom. Now, it's only made of wood but as soon as he started to pull it apart the fag smell released itself back into the air. Urgh, it was like a horrible flash back.

To all smokers out there: give up, it is truly disgusting.

Friday, October 21, 2005

getting on

Today I made a grunt when I got up out of my chair. Only old people do this - what's happening to me?

boozy lunch

Debbie is going off on maternity leave. We arranged a nice party for her this lunchtime. It was a real show of teamwork actually; everyone brought in a dish and we ended up with an amazing 3 course lunch.

Our plans were slightly scuppered by the boss who didn't want us to use the kitchen. Actually his words were 'I don't want you any where near my kitchen'. This made us all the more determined to make it nice for Debbie, so we brought in our own table cloth, cutlery, and crockery and we squeezed into the meeting room instead.

Here is a snap of Debbie in our meeting room this lunch time.

Poor Nick

Nick is currently suffering from a 'Man Cold'. This is, as any man could testify, much worse than any normal cold a woman would suffer from.

I am doing my wifely duty by offering Lem-Sips at appropriate intervals, murmuring comforting words, and responding to the 'have I got a temperature?' query by placing my cool hand to his fevered brow.

I bid him a swift recovery.

Thursday, October 20, 2005

Colleague quote of the day - by Roz

'Few people can have experienced the extreme levels of boredom I an currently suffering.'

This was silently passed to me on a post it note.

Emintrude, RIP

I would like to announce the sad passing of my much loved family moggie, Ermintrude.

She was a bit of a legend, being 22 years old and all. That's 154 in human years, and to quote that cliche, she had a good innings. Her longevity is a testament to the love and care that Dad has given her over the years and I know he is very sad at the moment.

Many of you never knew her in her prime and only ever saw her with cataracts, bald patches and a cancerous lump, but I remember her when she was a spritely youngster with glossy black fur. However, even to the end she remained a very affectionate cat who enjoyed a comfortable life, and she will be sadly missed.

Humiliated yet vindicated!

Today I sunk to my lowest professional ebb ever. I had a shower on a building site.

I had been arguing all morning with the bathroom designer and client about how to fix the flooding wet rooms. I said we needed to build a proper enclosure to contain the water. The bathroom designer claimed there would be no problem with a body in the path of the water jets.

I poo-pooed him and said it would still flood, and if I could, I would test it now and prove it. Before I could draw breath the client produced 3 towels from a box and said: 'Go on then.'

So, being stubborn, and knowing I was right, I put my pride to one side and got in the shower.

Now, before my husband goes ballistic I would like to point out that I was wrapped fully in a long towel, and I sent everyone out the room except Anna, the client. Even so I could not believe that I was standing there, like a drowned rat, in a towel, on a building site.

It was worth it because I WAS right. There was still water everywhere so I won the argument and we are building a glass enclosure.

The worst part of this experience has been returning to the office with DREADFUL hair that has dried naturally, kinky and frizzy: an awful predicament that any female readers will be able to identify with.

I deserve a pay rise.


I must clarify - I have not, in some super-economical tight-arsed fashion, been re-using the same sorry old tea bag for 3 years! What a ridiculous notion!

no no, I only use the freshest loose leaf green tea. Sadly not from a specialist tea shop in china like Chris, but from Whittards on Princes Street.

I know I'm a bit of a miser at times but that's just silly. What do you take me for?

Wednesday, October 19, 2005


Do you ever get that sinking feeling that you might have made a major cock-up at work, but no-one else knows about it yet and you're desperately trying to sort it out before the shit hits the fan?

I have had 2 potential cock-ups this week and I'm not having a good time of it. I stress the word 'potential' because I might be able to avert disaster and/or blame someone else. Honesty is never the best policy.

(Obviously honesty IS the best policy Mum, I'm just showing off)

Green tea

Ever since a visit to Jane in Feltham about 5 years ago I have had a thing about green tea. I drink it at work instead of normal tea or coffee.

Apart from the refreshing and delicate flavour, the main benefit to drinking green tea is that it is such good value. I have only ever bought 2 bags of green tea in my entire life. The first bag I drank for 3 years while working in Sheffield, and my current bag I am still only half way down, 18 months after purchasing it.

Please bear in mind that I drink approximately 6 cups of green tea a day, 5 days a week for about 46 weeks of the year. Due to the minute amounts of tea you need per cup each bag lasts for about 3 years. A bag costs around £3.50. You don't even need milk.

Surely this has got to be the most bargainous beverage known to man?

Tuesday, October 18, 2005


Dear Anonymous, (see comment on post below)

What I meant was that my Plumber was the worst plumber in the history of plumbers. I was willing her to be good but she wasn't. The loo leaked, the basin leaked, the bath leaked, the shower broke, the towel rail leaked and the living room ceiling fell down.

It wasn't her Glaswegian-ness or her lesbian-ness that I disapproved of - it was her crapness.

Oh, and please leave your name when leaving comments, anonymous ones are a bit spooky.

wet room no-no

If any of you are considering doing up your bathroom I feel that I am in a very good position to advise you:

Do not a) employ a Glaswegian lesbian plumber. Need I say more? And b) Don't try and be clever and build a so-called 'wet room'.

This is what my client insisted we design for her and now she has gallons of water gushing out all over the place. (I know cos I had to test the showers with 3 builders this morning.)

I can feel the recriminations gathering pace in the distance.....

Interesting phenomenon

Now's here a weird thing I do.

Whenever Nick is away for the night I sleep on his side of the bed. I also go to his side when he gets up earlier than me (which is, lets be frank, most days).

Does anyone else do this?

Monday, October 17, 2005

Cineworld update

This observation just in from Jane E:

'Cineworld must run central recruitment. The Feltham branch also has the same sigh and eye-roll policy, but the venue additionally benefits from noxious toilet odours to entertain you while you queue. Have not been there in years, despite the 5 min walk. Would rather lie in the car park and let the local youth drive over me in their suped-up Novas, in preference to an evening inside the establishment.'

She's right you know....

Rude awakening

A horrible thing happened to me during the night. (It's not what you might be imagining...)

I was fast asleep and dreaming nice dreams when the bulb fell out of the light fitting and landed right on my stomach.

Have we, with our feverish DIY, awakened a dormant ghost that was emotionally attached to the recently obliterated pink colour scheme of our spare bedroom?

Cineworld or end of the world?

Nick and I went to see the new Wallace and Gromit film at the weekend. It was great and I would definitely recommend it. However, I would NOT recommend the Cineworld Cimema in Falkirk. I don't think I have ever been in such a depressing place of entertainment on a Friday night.

The huge caverous entrance (with broken TV screens not showing forthcoming films) had a huge queue of punters waiting for one downtrodden girl to dispense the tickets - veeeery sloooowly. Each ticket came with a free sigh. The ice cream counter was staffed by one girl with gothic makeup and a baseball cap. She also had to man the bar at the same time. To complete the picture of desolation there was one spotty 16 year old lad halfheartedly hoovering up spilt popcorn with a yellow carpet sweeper.

Do not despair though - to compensate for this staff shortage there were no less than 3 fat girls chatting by screen 11. Their job appeared to be holding open the door for customers. Excellent.

I bet there used to be a lovely old cinema in the centre of the town that was forced out of business by this Cineworld monster. Now the good people of Falkirk are left with a huge, souless, run-down tin shed that sucks the will to live from your bones.

I will be avoiding this place in future.

Saturday, October 15, 2005

Hotel Simons

It didn't go unnoticed that the minute we moved to Edinburgh there was a sudden flood of friends and family eager to come and stay. We loved having you but it was always a bit annoying that, despite the large size of the flat, we didn't actually have a guest room for you to sleep in.

To address this problem we moved house. We now have newly decorated guest room but no-one lined up to stay in it. Now, I know Linlithgow isn't quite as glamorous as Edinburgh but come on! Jane and Tim, you did your bit but the timing was all wrong!

So, I would like to announce the completion of the Hotel Simons Guest bedroom. Bookings are being taken. Please note: We do have a new bathroom but we may not have any type of kitchen facilities during your stay. However please feel free to contribute for a take away at any point.

(Just a little tip: Do not try and fit 5 wardrobes in one car and still expect to be able to see out of the windows. We tried this today and it was highly dangerous and bad for the suspension.)

Friday, October 14, 2005


Originally uploaded by rachy1.
Apparently the more you personalise your work space, the less ambitious you are.

I have this photo of Maggie stuck on the wall next to me. Have I burnt my career bridges?


In my humble opinion, an empoyee who has worked hard for a company for 15 years should be treated like gold. Let me pluck an example of out it seems a bit mean to me that a pregnant employee of 15 years is given the absolute bare minimum of maternity leave. Not one single extra day, not one single extra penny, other than what the government give.

Obviously this is just hypothetical. No names mentioned...

Thursday, October 13, 2005

Autumn at the office

Originally uploaded by rachy1.
My bosses, Nick and Limma, have the most fantastic house and garden. The house is rendered in orange and at this time of year it looks amazing with the leaves turning orange to match.

The garden is full of beautiful seed heads and veg, including this artichoke which is growing in the formal walled garden.

25 ways to feel like a man

I came across this while clearing out my inbox. It's quite old but it still makes me laugh.

25 ways to feel like a man

1, OPENING JARS - nnng, she's struggling. You take it from her hands, open it effortlessly and pretend she loosened it for you. She didn't. Jars are men's work.

2, CALLING SOMEONE 'SON' - Especially policeman but even saying it to kids makes you the man.

3, DOING A PROPER SLIDE TACKLE - Beckham free kicks? Gay. A Stuart Pearce tackle is the pinnacle of the game, simultaneously winning the ball and crippling the man. Magic.

4, SHARPENING A PENCIL WITH A STANLEY KNIFE - Blunt, is it? Hand it here love. No, I don't need a sharpener, you think I can't whittle?

5, GOING TO THE TIP - A manly act which combines driving, lifting and - as you thrillingly drop your rubbish into another huge pile of other rubbish - noisy destruction.

6, DRINKING UP - Specifically, rising from the table, slinging your coat on and downing two thirds of a pint in one fluid movement. Then nodding towards the door, saying, "Let's go" and striding out while everyone else struggles to catch up with you. God, you're hard.

7, HAVING A THIN BIT OF WOOD - in the shed, solely to stir paint with.

8, HAVING A SCAR - Ideally it'll be a facial knife wound, but even an iron burn on the wrist is good. "Ooh, did it hurt?". "Nah!".

9, HAVING A HANGOVER AND THICK STUBBLE - When birds have been partying they just whinge. You, on the other hand have physical evidence of your hardness, sprouting from your face. "Big night?" Grr, what does it look like?

10, NODDING AT COPPERS - A moment's eye contact is all it takes for you to share the unspoken bond. "We've not seen eye to eye in the past", it says, "but someone's got to keep the little scrotes in line".

11, USING POWER TOOLS - slightly more powerful than you need or can safely handle. Pneumatic drilling while smoking a fag? Superb.

12, KICKING A FOOTBALL AGAINST A GARAGE DOOR - Clang-g-g-g-g-g-! You girl Beckham, I kick so hard I set off car alarms.

13, ARRIVING IN A PUB LATE... and everyone cheers you. It doesn't mean you're popular, it just means your mates are pi55ed. However, the rest of the pub doesn't know that.

14, NOT WATCHING YOUR WEIGHT - fat is a feminist issue, apparently. Brilliant. Pass the pork scratchings.

15, CARVING THE ROAST - and saying "are you a leg or breast man" to the blokes and "do you want stuffing" to the women. Congratulations, you are now your dad.

16, WINKING - turns women to putty. Doesn't it?

17, TEST SWINGING HAMMERS - ideally, B&Q would have little changing rooms with mirrors so you could see how rugged you look with any DIY item. Until then, we'll make do with the aisles.

18, TAKING OUT £200 FROM A CASHPOINT - okay, so its for paying the plumber later but with that much cash you feel like a mafia don. The only thing better is peeling notes off the roll later.

19, PHONE CALLS THAT LAST LESS THAN A MINUTE - unlike birds, we get straight to the point. "alright? Yep. Drink? Red lion? George, it is then. Seven. See ya."

20, PARALLEL PARKING - bosh, straight in. first time. Can Schumacher do that? No, because his cars got no reverse gear which, technically, makes you the world's best driver.

21, HAVING EARNED THAT PINT - Since the dawn of time, men have toiled in the fields in blistering heat. Why? So, when it's over we can stand there in silence, surveying our work with one hand resting on the beer gut while the other nurses a foaming jug of ale. Aaah.

22, HAVING SOMETHING PROPERLY WRONG WITH YOU - especially if you didn't make a fuss. "Why was I off, nothing much, just a brain haemorrhage".

23, KNOWING WHICH SCREWDRIVER IS WHICH - "a Phillips? For that? Are you mad, bint?"

24, TAKING A NEWSPAPER INTO THE LOO - a visual code that says that's right, I'm going in there for a huge, long man-sized dump.

25, CALLING YOUR MATE A C**T - and punching him on the shoulder. Just a man's way of saying, "you're a good mate; I missed you while you were in hospital"

Animal instinct?

We have an office dog called Molly. She is a bit thick, and really smells but usually friendly. However she has a thing about men in uniform. It's really strange how she can tell the difference between a delivery man in a white van and someone in 'civilian' clothing. When anyone comes to read a meter or hand over a parcel she goes mad and tries to bite their calves. She has succeeded in biting the post man twice and he won't come in the office anymore.

I always thought her behaviour was irrational and silly until I noticed that I do a similar thing with envelopes. Lovely coloured envelopes with hand written addresses or big parcels induce a big smile and if I had a tail I'd be wagging it. Brown printed ones or A5 white ones with 'private' in the top corner bring about a snarl and I if I had big teeth I'd definitely knash them.

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

Money drain

In the past 9 days I have spent 37.3% of my monthly income in Ikea. Todays trip accounted for 4%.

This is either a measure of how much I have bought, or of how little I earn. Not sure which.


I found out a rather disturbing fact today.

During a site meeting my client told me that her husband was at the local sauna, taking her elderly father for a 'massage'. I must have appeared a bit flustered because she told me not to be such a prude, and that in Holland old people and disabled people get prostitutes on the NHS. 'Men need sex' she informed me.

Her husband and father returned during the meeting and my client said: 'Look! Look at the smile on his face.' I couldn't help but wonder if the prostitute had a smile on her face.

Dad, if it's all the same to you, I won't be getting Nick to accompany you to a brothel.

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

New blog

I feel awfully self conscious. What if someone actually reads this?

me me me

I often think that I am predisposed to talk a little too much.

I watch people's eyes glazing over and wonder if they are still listening or actually planning what the are going to have for tea. I was wondering if, by writing this, then I can talk about Me as much as I like, and I'll never have to watch your eyes glazing or attention waning. What a perfect idea.

Let the glazing commence!
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