Exterminate!

I am in desperate need of six AAA batteries.

Courtesy thalinoviel and bytepilot, I am the proud owner of a radio controlled Dalek Sec:



This is much to the dismay of colonel_maxim who does not know a good thing when he sees it. Ah, my internal not-too-deeply-buried six year old is in hog heaven!

Exterminate!

I am in desperate need of six AAA batteries.

Courtesy thalinoviel and bytepilot, I am the proud owner of a radio controlled Dalek Sec:



This is much to the dismay of colonel_maxim who does not know a good thing when he sees it. Ah, my internal not-too-deeply-buried six year old is in hog heaven!

It made me laugh anyway

I'm not sure whether you would describe it as work friendly or not. ( So... )

It made me laugh anyway

I'm not sure whether you would describe it as work friendly or not. ( So... )

See My Baby Jive

Much to my surprise Furtle’s package did indeed turn up yesterday after all. Apparently it arrived just ten minutes after I’d given up on it. Thank God for colonel_maxim’s late starts on Mondays. I am under strict instructions from Furtle not to attempt to see what’s in it. I am not even allowed to pick it up and shake it in an attempt to guess. As I took it upstairs, I do know it is too light to be books, but that’s about it. Clearly the packaging was too good as even a tentative shaking of the parcel before Furtle’s arrival home elicited no sounds, so I can’t use odd noises from within to help me guess.

I shall just have to wait. Bum.

Today I reckon I shall have to give some thought to Mum’s Christmas pressie. Actually it won’t take that much thought; I know she wants a pair of earrings, the hard part will be choosing something that I think she’ll like. I have also been commissioned to find a book for her by my sister. Something – probably the most recent I can find - by someone called Maeve Binchy. If her books are anything like the ones Mum normally reads, I can see myself having to give the shop assistant my best glassy stare and pretend not to notice that I am purchasing a romantic bodice ripper. Oh dear.

In other news, someone has been draining the last vestiges of my patience and other peoples’ common sense here at the office. This is a poisonous combination as I get grumpier as the day passes, but it is very situation specific and as soon as I am out of the door in an evening, it all disappears. This is just as well, as we are popping into the pub on the way home for a sherbet with the Boy Andrews & Co.

See My Baby Jive

Much to my surprise Furtle’s package did indeed turn up yesterday after all. Apparently it arrived just ten minutes after I’d given up on it. Thank God for colonel_maxim’s late starts on Mondays. I am under strict instructions from Furtle not to attempt to see what’s in it. I am not even allowed to pick it up and shake it in an attempt to guess. As I took it upstairs, I do know it is too light to be books, but that’s about it. Clearly the packaging was too good as even a tentative shaking of the parcel before Furtle’s arrival home elicited no sounds, so I can’t use odd noises from within to help me guess.

I shall just have to wait. Bum.

Today I reckon I shall have to give some thought to Mum’s Christmas pressie. Actually it won’t take that much thought; I know she wants a pair of earrings, the hard part will be choosing something that I think she’ll like. I have also been commissioned to find a book for her by my sister. Something – probably the most recent I can find - by someone called Maeve Binchy. If her books are anything like the ones Mum normally reads, I can see myself having to give the shop assistant my best glassy stare and pretend not to notice that I am purchasing a romantic bodice ripper. Oh dear.

In other news, someone has been draining the last vestiges of my patience and other peoples’ common sense here at the office. This is a poisonous combination as I get grumpier as the day passes, but it is very situation specific and as soon as I am out of the door in an evening, it all disappears. This is just as well, as we are popping into the pub on the way home for a sherbet with the Boy Andrews & Co.

Is it a fluke, man?

The number and quality of stupid questions coming my way from so-called professionals is now reaching plague proportions.

I fear that there may be a brain leech at large in the housing finance community, leaving a trail of drooling mediocrity behind it. That is insidious and worrying because it could have been years before anyone noticed.

Time to call Mulder and Scully.

Is it a fluke, man?

The number and quality of stupid questions coming my way from so-called professionals is now reaching plague proportions.

I fear that there may be a brain leech at large in the housing finance community, leaving a trail of drooling mediocrity behind it. That is insidious and worrying because it could have been years before anyone noticed.

Time to call Mulder and Scully.