Gone Done Broke Himself

Just as summer gets well into swing, MG has gone done broken his ankle. He was doing something "heroic" during a game of baseball, and got his studs stuck in the ground. The astounding part was, that despite hearing a crack and seeing his foot turn the wrong way, it took him two days to go to hospital (after some gentle persuasion from moiself). So all those summer adventures planned: the boating, the inevitable sinking, and the folking (no pun intended), have had to be put on ice, and MG is now all plastercasted and melancholy. Watching him painfully ascend the stairs, on his knees, and then back down again on his bum, was half hilarious and half tragic. One advantage of being stuck in the house is that MG took the time to teach me Texas Hold 'Em poker, and I now feel the gambling bug a-growing. Don't think I'd ever want to bet real money but it would be nice to start playing with friends, and seeing if I can perfect a cast-iron poker face (unlikely).

The Inner Fat Person

Oh boy, need to get to bed on time, need to stop getting fat, need to not slouch at my computer like Gollum. Moaned about being fat to MG yesterday, and explained how I was ramping up the cycling to work / swimming (inspired by Troy "swimming the channel"). Wearing the expression of someone walking below an avalanche prone overhang, he gave me his helpful diet tips - basically not eating dinner EVER. Now I'm sure this works very well, but the idea of not eating dinner makes me sad. And the whole notion of being told not to eat dinner by a very skinny person riles the inner fat person in me. He was just trying to be helpful and I did bring up the subject, but my increasingly terse facial expression gave away that he was not required to reply to my mumblings about weight, merely nod sympathetically and tell me how lovely I looked. You would have thought men would have learnt this trick by now, shirley!?!

My Band, My Album

Future of Identity in the Information Society

presents

FOR A RAMBLING FANCY

"Ironic and profound...or tuneless toss? F.I.I.S have yet again produced an album that confounds categorisation" Ham and High

Something to amuse yourself (idea originally found my me, after random internet trawling, then committed to blogdom by Earth Girl, and then stolen back off her for this blog!):

1 - Go to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random
The first random Wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.

2 - Go to Random quotations: http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3
The last four words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album.

3 - Go to flickr's "explore the last seven days" http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days/
Third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.

Conversing with the Outdoor Drinking Club

SCENE IS SET OUTSIDE SAINSBURY ON STOW HIGH STREET

Drunk: Good evening lady

Me: Er...good evening

Drunk: You from New Zealand? Germany?

Me: Er...no...London

Drunk: You're English! You're well upper class English!

Me: Er right...not really no

Drunk: (in sarcastic tone) YEAH YOU ARE. How's your daddy these days?

Me: (slightly exasperated) He's dead [not true obviously]

Drunk: Oh....bet he left you loads of inheritance though didn't he??

Me: NO

Drunk: (in sudden change of tack, and to snorts of derision from fellow drunk) Do you think I'm attractive?

Me: Er...

Fellow drunk: (half to themselves) When you lose a loved one...yeah when you lose a loved one...my dad's dead too...

Drunk: Because a lot of people say I am very attractive!

Me: Well if people say it, then I suppose it must be true...

Drunk: Yeah, yeah!! I can see that you find me attractive, yeah you're thinking about me and panting ... I can see it!

Me: (to more snorts of derision from fellow drunk) I think you're letting your imagination run away with you there a little

Drunk: (sort of moony eyed) You're a really nice girl. I like your type of girl. Nice and PLAIN.

Me: (rolling eyes) Oh THANK you. That's really something.

FINALLY MANAGE TO UNLOCK MY BIKE