You must be Rob

Things have been so busy at work over the last two days I'm wondering if I'm going to meet myself in the department coming the other way on the stairs. I wonder if I'd like myself? I wonder if the other one would claim to be the "real" me, unlike me who is the real me? Would we fight in a "let's get stuntman to do this bit 'cos it looks rather painful to roll down those steps" kind of way? Would the evil me (which is definitely the other me by the way) triumph in a B movie manner and then go on to a more successful lifestyle?

Hmm. Perhaps I've been working too hard.

The Little Brown Ikea Pencil of Doom: Part 1

The inspector looked around the brightly furnished living room.

"He must have liked Swedish design.." he said to himself, taking in the bright red sofa and strangely shaped tables.

"The body's upstairs sir" the uniformed officer told him.

"Found by the cleaner at 8:00 am this morning." he continued. "It looks like he was strangled with one of those paper tape measures that you get at furniture stores".

"What have we got on the victim?" asked the inspector.

"Nothing much sir, it seems that he kept himself to himself. Very interested in d�cor. Neighbours report lots of flat pack furniture arriving and sounds of hammering and swearing at all hours of the day and night."

The inspector wandered upstairs to investigate the corpse. The uniformed office took out his notebook and pencil. "Darn it", he muttered as the lead broke off the instant it touched the paper. He looked around the room and saw on the mantelpiece above the pine fireplace a little brown pencil. "Nobody will notice", he thought, as he picked it up and started writing....

(to be continued)

Culinary Matters

A word of warning (in fact several words, but I'm in a generous mood). Don't get cheese flavoured crumpets. I bought a pack by mistake this morning. Not good. Whilst I thought I was a lover of cheese in all its forms, cheese flavoured crumpets are a step too far. The smell they make when you open the pack is just a taster for what is produced when you put them in the toaster and they get warm. I can't see them being a success, unless re-directed into crowd clearance duties. Forget your water canon, just lob a few of these and a toaster into the mob and watch them flee for cover.

Whilst I'm on the subject of food and generousity, I happen to have a large-ish stash of Worcester Sauce Flavoured crisps. These are the ones that get left from the multipack as neither myself or number one daughter can stand them. The economies of scale are such that we can afford to buy and deploy crisps in this manner, but it still irks to have to throw them away. Anybody who wants a Worcester Sauce Flavoured crisp (or even a whole bag full) should get in touch. But do remember, they taste of Worcester Sauce. And I won't pay postage.

Dirty Soap

I think I've just about figured out why they are called "soap operas". It is because after you have watched an episode you feel the need to wash your hands or perhaps have a shower or bath.

Now, I realise that everything on telly which runs for more than two episodes (with the possible exception of the news - and even then I'm not sure) has to go a bit soapy in order to survive. But I've just been forced to endure some EastEnders at lunchtime (awful trick that, put the telly on in the room with the food in it). And I hate that program. There is nothing uplifting about it. The only thing it leaves me with is a feeling of relief that I don't live near there and a desire to wash my hands. And don't get me started on Casualty.

ShapeShifting

When to have a fitting for my new suit today. I seem to have changed shape since the measurements were taken. The cloth is very nice and the lining most impressive in colour. But it doesn't fit quite right. Since I can go into just about any shop and buy badly fitting clothes most every day of the week I have sent it back to have a few changes made to the dimensions. I'm wondering if I could rent myself out to tailor training school as a kind of "walking worst case scenario".