My salad dressing days

Don’t try this at home
March 22, 2008, 1:14 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

You spot a bird in your garden.

An aspirant ornithologist visiting your home speculates (excitedly) that it could be a song thrush but she is not sure.

You type “thrush” into the Google Images search engine.


The good news, the bad news
March 19, 2008, 10:11 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

BBC iPlayer is plain marvellous, not to mention life-changing. (Who, in an era of iPlayer, Listen Again and Amazon DVD rentals, would fork out for Sky? Pas moi.)

BBC3’s Gavin and Stacey not so much. (The reviewers, they were unjustifiably over-enthusiastic IMO.)

HMRC owes me nine hundred squids. (Tax rebates are one of the few perks of having virutally no income to speak of.)

HMRC is owed nine hundred squids by The Husband. (And the cheeky sods have already charged him 1% interest for not having paid it the instant he submitted his tax return online…on, um, the day before the deadline.)

Providing cheap thrills for IT staff everywhere
March 11, 2008, 3:47 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

Every mother knows that you surrender your dignity at your first midwife’s appointment, but truly, the glamour associated with parenting never ends.

This week, some backroom IT support assistant at Netdoctor is sniggering as (s)he looks at the websearches that resulted in clicks through to the site (‘can nits migrate to pubic hair?’*). Whilst his or her counterpart at BioMed Central is quietly guffawing at the late night Googling of a university-educated British woman for whom ‘O’ Grade Biology is a distant memory (‘do headlice reproduce asexually?’**).

* It was important to know this. Because – believe me – I was itching everywhere.

** Nope, it takes two to tango. So the little bastards were bonking 24/7 on my scalp.

Mommy, what’s Marxism?
March 6, 2008, 2:04 pm
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Marxism for preschoolers

Farmer Duck – a digested read: the Duck does all the work on the farm, whilst the farmer lies in bed all day eating himself towards morbid obesity. The other animals recognise this gross injustice for what it is and chase the farmer away. The end.

My daughter: “But why did the aminals (sic) chase the farmer away?”

Me: “Honey, it’s a classic example of the workers seizing the means of production. You want me to explain Marxism to you?”

My daughter: “Is that where you get your knickers from?”