My wife is helping a French lady out with a new website in exchange for giving our daughter some exposure to another language.

The first session ended with the teacher asking Rain if she remembered what “le pomme’ meant in English (that’s apple  for the mono-lingual savages among us).

Our three year-old turned to her and said in a very confidant voice: “I think it means gravy.”

 

 

Why talk to people when an angry arms-length note posted on a lamp post will do. It involves that heady cocktail of angry neighbours, canine excrement and dumped rubbish. Let battle commence…

 

I’m just impressed someone that pissed could climb a lamp-post in the first place. Bloody students haven’t they got anything better to do then make the rest of us laugh.

 

 

Nice to see the mighty Rutger Hauer can still star in some quality trash like Hobo with a Shotgun. I was going to have a moan about him going to the dogs but what can you say from an actor who gave such memorable performances in Blade Runner, Blind Fury and Salute of the Juggar (well, scratch the last one).

 

“The soul becomes dyed with the colour of its thoughts.”

Marcus Aurelias

 

What’d be the worst thing that could happen when government inspectors make a spot check of your facilities? Well, try beating an absconding patient mugging one of the inspectors during their walkabout, snatching their bag and then being arrested further down the road to the wail of police sirens. Suffice to say their feedback was less than glowing.

 

“Do you love me,” I asked him once.

 “Sure I do.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you have a reason?”

“Sure. I got a reason,” he said. “Because you are a rose in a field of dirty old tyres, that’s why.

                                                                        Miles from Nowhere, Nami Mun

 

 

Flashback to memories of the public toilets outside New Delhi Railway Station earlier this week when the offices went without water for the day. It makes you realise just how much people go to the loo everyday. A lot. It’s the sort of thing I ponder while eating my cheese sandwiches.


 

Yes is a world and in this world of yes live (skillfully curled) all worlds.

e.e. cummings

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