Public service announcement

As several observant people have commented to me recently, my blog looks a little different at present. The reason is that I upgraded all my blog software components about a week ago, and haven’t gotten around to setting up all the little customisations I need in order for my site to look exactly as it did before. Have faith. Soon all will be back to the way it was, it might just take a week or two for me to find the time.


While the orb may not reveal its shadowy secrets to me, nor the tea-leaves provide me with predictive insights, I do now posess the power to predict the future.

This is because for our Beer and Pizza anniversary Simone got me a Magic eight ball, and my experience so far this year (we also have one in ED) the magic eight ball never lies to me.

Now if only I can figure out how to use it to predict the lotto numbers…

Inside my skull

Things appear to be getting to me a little.

I’ve been studying hard, and to put myself to sleep at night, reading my way through the harry potter books (reading fiction while lying down = dave asleep in 10-15 mins, which is a good system really).

Anyway, the last few days I’ve been having some odd dreams while I’ve been resetting my body clock after a week working overnights.

Firstly I woke up the other day from an afternoon sleep with a strange sense of foreboding, and a non-specific feeling of concern for Neville’s wellbeing. I explained this to Simone, who said “Neville who?… … Longbottom?”, and I said yes. She wasn’t sure which was more wierd, me dreaming that Neville needed help, or that she immediately knew who I was talking about.

Then yesterday morning I awoke after a dream where I was reading through my anatomy book, and found 4 pages that I had somehow missed, which in really tiny print listed the names, nerve supplies, actions and attachments of about 200 muscles in the arm, and I suddenly realised why I didn’t understand how the arm worked, and that there was no way I could possibly learn all those muscles. And then I woke up…. sweating…

No beer and no TV makes David something something.

Swinging from the chandaliers

In a nice illustration of our familial eccentricity, our standard routine when Simone and I are going out is to say to Jack, “Now you behave yourself while we’re gone. No loud parties and no swinging off the ceiling”.

It stems from a piece of silliness early last year where I suggested that while we were out Jack and my childhood stuffed toy “Teddy” were throwning some kick-ass parties together.

Now the other day I noticed that the leading edges of the ceiling fans were looking a little grubby, so I got a cloth and wiped them down, and guess what! The “grime” was in fact a uniform thin coating of Jack hair. Now a logical person would suggest that his hair is sufficiently light to loft up and get caught on the front of the fan, but I can’t help wondering whether it’s up there as a result of Jack ignoring our parental edicts, and swinging off the ceiling fans while we’ve been out.

The next question is of course whether he’s doing this in relation to a party or as practice for his try out for circus school…

According to Simone…

As the fount of all knowledge which is correct and unquestionable, apparently today is our second, and therefore “Beer and Pizza” anniversary.

Simone made the comment when I asked her what she had planned for tonight (she has some plan, but hasn’t told me what it is yet) and she said that the second anniversary was the beer and Pizza anniversary (the first being “paper”, I think), so that was what we were doing, and after all, who am I to question such obvious truths….


Where are my harsh chemicals?

I went shopping the other day for some shower cleaner, as the stuff we currently use seems to no longer be doing it’s job (it is a little old, so perhaps that’s the reason). Anyway, I got to the cleaning products isle and started looking.

Almost universally the bottles seemed to have (somewhere on their label) the claim that they contained “No harsh chemicals”, and I was miffed! I had stubborn grime (it’s actually not as bad as that, but seeing as that is the terminology that also seemed to appear on just about every bottle I though I should use it here too) to deal with, and dammit if I didn’t want those harsh chemicals so that I knew that the job was being done right.

One bottle even had the nerve to suggest (right below the bit about not containing harsh chemicals) that I should apply the product to the shower/bath surface daily for a fornight and at the end of said fortnight I would have a good-as-new shiny clean shower/bath. TWO WEEKS??? What are they thinking? I want to clean the shower once every 2 weeks, not every day for two weeks, and I want to know that it’s being done properly: hence the search for the good old fashioned caustic chemicals. Frankly I don’t care if I come out with chlorine’d red eyes, and immaculately sterile drain pipes (it goes to the treatment plant anyway, where it will be broken down).

Am I the only one who feels like this?