Tuesday, January 29, 2008


- Your lunch looks, well, too healthy. That pot of seed things looks like something my guinea pig would eat...And, what's that?


- Beetroot?

Would you like to try some?

- NO!

- Do you know what happens if you eat too much beetroot? ... Your pee turns purple.

(and your poo, yells a colleague).

You're not exactly selling it to me, miss.

Monday, January 28, 2008

Sunday, January 20, 2008

Should have gone to Specsavers

We've all been there.

On the tube or train or bus. Intently looking at a woman's stomach trying to work out whether or not she's pregnant. You don't want to be impolite if she is; you don't want to offend if she isn't.

The man who offered me his seat Monday evening on the Central line clearly needs his eyes testing. After my uncontrolled laughter I doubt he'll ever ask another woman ever again if she wants a seat.

My waist is a rather small size eight.

Wednesday, January 02, 2008

Welcome to 2008

Given the day started with the washing machine exploding (slight exaggeration but I did have to take my clothes to my parents to wash out the smell of burning rubber) and the Hoover breaking down (reasons enough for wanting to steer clear of both as I usually do) why I thought it would be a good idea to do a spot of overdue DIY I don't know.

The supercilious teenage twat in Homebase informed me that I could not find the “toilet flushers” as I was looking for the wrong product. I did in fact require a “cistern lever”. He was fortunate enough to escape unharmed as my brain was picturing him strangled with the chord of a power shower with a loo brush sticking out from where the sun don't shine.

Fitting the new toilet seat took far longer than anticipated due to the ridiculous length of the central metal spike, plastic wingnuts and the proximity of the bowl to the wall. I think the blue stripe is rather fetching. I'm guessing from C's face when he returned home he does not agree.

But, then, he may have been looking at the mess covering the bathroom floor. The old cistern lever may have been broken but could I remove the damn thing? No, anything that was supposed to come apart refused as it was melded together with limescale. I tried all kinds as evidenced by the array of tools, gadgets and implements littering the tiles. Helplessly, I appealed to the man for assistance. He couldn't budge it either but then he had a plan. Acrid smoke filled the flat for the second time today when he set fire to it and melted it to bits. I am still not convinced it was a good idea but as C pointed out it worked.