Back to the coal face

Things change quickly at my office. A number of innovations have been introduced that will increase productivity and improve the work ethic.
1. we have had wireless mice (and unfortunately the mammalian ones too) for some time, but I hear we're now to be given hands-free keyboards. These will plug directly into the user's brain via a USB port sunk into his forehead. This will allow the worker to type simply by thinking the letters one by one, leaving his hands free to operate the telephone, change the contrast on his PC monitor or pick his nose.
2. the watercooler grapevine has it that our new company theme song will be 'Take Five' by the Dave Brubeck Trio.
3. my department can sometimes get a little busy and tempers rise, so we are introducing a swearbox. Each time one of us uses a swearword we must put a pound in the box. Special dispensation has been give to my colleague Dave Cock because it could otherwise be difficult for him.

Old soak

I have realised that I am becoming an old soak.
Must remember to do something about that.

Apples and pears

I was in Tesco last night. I bought some apples. They were not from New Zealand, where, working under the instructions of the dark lord Sauron, hobbits and orcs produce thousands of tons of bland generic apples for the British market each year. They were from...
Kent!
Imagine that, just 50 miles from where I live. Even if they did go via a distribution centre in Derbyshire. It's the thought that counts.

And they were of a different variety too: 'Discovery'.
It was quite a 'discovery' for me, I can tell you!
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
Ha ha ha ha!
Ha ha.
Yep.

In on the (inter(net))action

It's good to see these days that even dairy products are revealing their secrets to the world at large via the interweb.
This maturing cheddar has had more than 1.5 million views.
That's quite a few more than this blog.

Hip AND cool

I am quite well known as part of the cool set in London. I am at the forefront of many of the latest trends and fashions (but not fads) that take hold among the hipsters and Fonzerati of this nation's great capital.
For example, I am currently sporting a beard. Not a goatee, a jazz tuft, an Abe Lincoln or a bodkin. A simple, 'stop shaving for a couple of weeks' beard. No fuss or poncing, just masculinity. Let the testosterone do the talkin'. And many fellow Londoners (most of them male) are doing likewise.
It was the same when I started wearing combat trousers in the 1990s, and when I took to dressing as a Beefeater last year. Next I intend to be seen sporting a top hat, as I think this item of headgear deserves a revival.
It's not easy being cool. People often stop me in the street and say, 'Excuse me, do you have the time?' or 'Can you direct me to Lincoln's Inn Fields'. And do you know what I say to them?
Nothing, because I cannot speak English.

At the weekend

They were changing the hats at Weasel Gummidge
Ba-dum, dum, dumpity dum
Christopher Robin was having a rummage
Ba-dum, dum, dumpity dum
My mother was running about in a flap
Had lost both her shoes and my dad lost his cap
My brother went awol, my sis overslept
The dog turned transparent and my cat sat and wept
We flew in the bat car
I lost all my hair
We turned across country
And ran over a bear.

Finally we got to Weasel Gummidge
Ba-dum, dum, dumpity dum
After turning left at Castle Bromwich
Ba-dum, dum, dumpity dum

Out came the Queen
With a dignified air

And carefully spoke
To the crowd gathered there

"My eyes are like lasers
My joints are high-tech
My head's made of silicon
On an electronic neck
My robot and I
Are frightfully pleased
That you came out to see us -
NOW DOWN ON YOUR KNEES!"

Now we live under a cyborg empire
Ba-dum, dum, dumpity dum
1-110-010-110-001-101-1-000
Ba-dum, dum, dumpity dum