The News: Today I cleaned my aunt's house - the positive thing about this was that TELLUS (who you will remember is the rotund little vacuum who flung himself down the stairs last time I was there) and I are now friends, united against the ever-encroaching dust front.
Here is the not-so-positive thing.
I would like to state here that my aunt and uncle are neat, tidy and civilized people; if they weren't I still wouldn't break cleaner privilege and tell you about their mucky existence. However, I have no such loyalty to the couple who recently stayed in the guest bedroom and who apparently livened up their stay with a game of what I can only assume is called "Who Can Stick A Pubic Hair Highest On The Shower Wall?" What kind of filth wizard leaves scattered pubes at head height? Ew. And there's just no way they could have got there by accident, it must have been...some sort of contest? I just hope there was a good prize, you know, something worth being that fucking disgusting.
The weirdest thing about writing that paragraph was that it gave me an intense sense of deja vu, like I myself had played the pubes-on-wall game. Which I would like to assure you I haven't. WEIRD
In fashion news, Kate has a new hoodie. Unfortunately when she puts the hood up (which she was doing as part of an extensive visual pun in which she and I both wore hoodies with the hoods up and shouted "Neighbour Hoodies") it bears an unfortunate resemblance to...well, that other white pointy hood. In a fit of bad taste I renamed her KKKate. Then she said something really racist and I thought she was quoting a rap song but no, she was just saying something appropriately racist. (Appropriate to the hoodie, not to anything else.) Sometimes I wonder if perhaps I have not been a very good influence.
In Internet news, KKKate has been a fountain of amusement today. She looked over my shoulder while I was on twitter (yeah yeah, I know, tweeting is for vacs) and shouted WHAT IS THAT, BUTTER DOT COM? So then we looked up butter.com and it turns out it's a website about butter. I don't know what I expected, but I'm kind of disappointed. It does, however, have a useful list of 'Related Links.' Here is the list. 'Whey, Yoghurt, Buttermilk, Parmesan Cheese, Drumsticks, Cheddar Cheese." What's wrong with that? Drumsticks are pretty similar to butter if you ignore the fact that they're completely different.
In local news, here is a challenge: I have decided that the only way to win my heart is to design and build (or commission, that is fine too) a robot that makes cups of tea and steals bottles of vodka and responds to voice commands. Email is fine for the specs, but I'd like the finished product shipped to my Christchurch address.
And now, for the Informative Fact of the Day!
In Danish, the word 'gift' means either 'poison' or 'married,' depending on the context. Cool, huh? I bet you did not know that! Unless you are Xalion, who told me that, but he is too busy designing a tea-making, vodka-stealing robot to care.
In animal news (totally a legitimate news category), yesterday I saw a 7-legged spider. I was removing it from the shower at the time (it was terrorising Kate and it appears that of late I have become spider-vanquisher), and as it flung itself onto my hand (why do they do that) I noticed it was missing one of its two front legs! Because of this I thought it deserved to be lowered gently onto a tomato plant, rather than squished into oblivion. This story does not have a moral except maybe that 'otherly abled' arachnids get a better deal than 'otherly abled' people, as far as being spared a gruesome death goes. But I don't think that's a very good moral.
Speaking of poor morals (that is called a Segue, which is not news), I discovered today yet another case of my cellphone's 'predictive txt' feature having weird predilections towards unsuitable words. I was trying to type 'I'll leave you a plate of turkey,' but ended up almost sending 'I'll leave you a slave of turkey.' Other unfortunate things my phone likes to say are 'That's an unusual pervert' and 'Happy Farter.' God damn it, phone, you make me be's worse than I already be's. Should I ever want to request an Easter plate, I had better remember to do it from a different phone.