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This is a very negligible entry, whose principle job is to check out whether the Android app which claims to do DW-posting works at all. If you're reading this, then yay!

I'm also experimenting with images. Yes, this is not an exciting post.

Green! )
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Earlier today I was reading on Wikipedia about "paresthesia". Have you ever suffered paresthesia? I imagine you have, it's the proper name for pins-and-needles.

Nuns and poodles )

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It's snowing!

OK, so in a really minor, rubbish way. And the forecast is for rain. And snow never settles in London. And (as [ profile] feanelwa pointed out yesterday) snow is the last thing you want if you're on crutches.

But dammit, I like snow.

Although it might have stopped in the time it's taken me to post this :)
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Tell me, o LJ, what are you wearing today?

I have on grey skinny jeans, grey boots, and a fluffy black and white jumper with a panda on it. I'm not usually a big fan of the animal jumper, but I think this one manages to be fluffy without being too cutesy. Also, I like pandas. I admire their approach to eye make-up.

I have accessorised with a selection of purple and yellow bruises on both wrists, and a small blue bruise on my forehead. Rapper is not a safe hobby. As usual, I have a silver 'E' pendant round my neck, and silver studs in my ears. I'm wearing a small analogue watch, because my smartwatch is bust at the moment.

On the way to the office I also had on one of those new-fangled lightweight down jackets that seem to be everywhere this winter. In a fashion-item-is-practical shocker, they're bloody great.

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Well, that didn't go to plan )

Which explains why I am sitting by myself in a pub, smelling strongly of vinegar.

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So, people of the internet, tell me your thoughts on climbing stairs.

Step by step, ooh baby )

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Weirdest way to be earwormed ever...

The door to the place I go to do yoga has developed a squeak. It didn't have a squeak on Monday, but today it does. While donning coat and shoes, ready to leave, I heard it repeatedly. A loud, scrapey, two-note squeak.

Which hits exactly the interval of the first two notes of the theme tune to Antiques Roadshow :(
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Note for Americans: I live in the UK, where customer service is regarded as (at best) an optional extra.

Today I was in the card shop, Scribbler, buying a birthday card in rather a hurry.

Did I want a bag, asked the lady behind the counter.

No, but I would quite like the loan of a pen if she wouldn't mind.

She didn't mind. She asked if I wanted her to dispose of the card's plastic wrapping, and handed me my unwrapped card with a nice pen and a useful clipboard to provide a flat surface to write on. The clipboard even had an attached bit of paper for practice scribbling.

So hurrah! Well done Scribbler on High Holborn.
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Imagine, if you will, that you are eating a half-coated chocolate biscuit. Maybe it's a digestive, maybe it's a hobnob. Maybe it's a vegan, gluten-free biccie with carob coating if that sounds more like your thing. Anyway, imagine you are eating a biscuit with some form of chocolate-esque coating on exactly one side.

You're thinking of it?


[Poll #1966494]

Thank you. This poll brought to you following a traumatic outbreak of biscuit-eating-related horror in my household.
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Disjointed comments from the recent past...

If you have tropical fruit-related breakfast cereal, it's surprisingly nice with coconut water on it in place of milk. I discovered this totally because of my desire to try out new food combinations, and not even slightly because I am the sort of slack person who'd put cereal in a bowl before remembering we forgot to buy milk.

In a crowd on Sunday I was standing near a gentleman in a quite amazingly hi-tech electric wheelchair. It had expanding struts under the seat and (I think - I didn't see it in action) could be raised and lowered. The upshot being that, in a standing crowd, the chap sitting in it was on eye-level with everyone else. I'm lucky enough never to have had to use a wheelchair, but I imagine having your head a couple of feet lower than the people around you could make it hard to stay in a conversation.

A house on the road I walk down to the station had the top of its garden wall painted last week. It was a brilliant, pristine white. Overnight, it was visited by a fox with extremely muddy paws.

Owing to lack of warning signs, there is now a small patch of concrete on Haven Green with the print of my right boot in it. Converse, size 4, if you're curious.
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Breakfasts I saw on my way to work this morning...

A little girl, in a bright pink coat with a matching bright pink woolly animal hat decorated with improbable pom-pom ears. She stopped walking to open a paper bag, and pull out a pain au chocolat almost as big as her head.

A guy of around 20, wearing tracksuit bottoms and a bright red hoody. He hurried away from the newsagents clutching a can of Red Bull and a packet of ten cigarettes.

A lady in a camo coat and fluffy purple beret, hurrying up the steps from Ealing Broadway tube. She was taking large bites from a sausage sandwich.

Someone of my own age, in a black padded jacket, crossing Kingsway. She was holding two bulging paper bags from Pret A Manger, and eight cups of coffee in cardboard carriers.
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An issue of burning topical importance:

[Poll #1937072]
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Things I saw on my way to work this morning...

A bearded man with a fantastically tall, turquoise turban. I wondered if he gets Marge Simpson jokes a lot.

A girl with parti-coloured blonde and shocking-orange hair, her whole upper arm covered with a colourful tattoo of a cartoon robot. Are the colours of tattoos improving, suddenly?

A man walking a Samoyed. Even on the shady side of the street it looked hot, its pink tongue lolling.

Two little girls, limboing back and forth under the barriers that kept the station ticket queue in line. They looked outrageously French and - when they spoke - turned out to be French.
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Things I saw on my way to work this morning...

A man crouched beside a green junction box, trying to match the diagram on his clipboard to the wires inside. He was wearing a bright yellow plastic headset, clamped over his black turban.

A man striding quickly up the road, a pink lunch bag in one hand and a huge carrier containing a Playmobil box in the other. A little girl in a pink anorak and a cream party dress ran to keep up with him.

A blonde girl on the train, asleep with her arm curled round her partner and a huge smile on her face.

An immensely cheerful man with gingery hair, fighting with the ticket barriers before declaring "Ah! It's the green arrow that it gives it away."

As I cycled up Whiteknights Road, the rain brought an unexpected waft of wild garlic with it. A police car with blacked-out windows passed me, ferocious barking coming from within.
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While passing briefly through Hounslow station last week I encountered some poorly-rendered but delightfully weird graffiti.

Yes please, I want to see faint pictures of scribbling! )
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Sunday turned into a day of Doing Things this weekend. Sadly, as is always the way, not quite as many Things got Done as I'd hoped.

ChrisC had also noticed the date and insisted we celebrate St Patrick's day. So we soundtracked our day with Irish bands. We stumbled dazedly round the flat to Whipping Boy, got ourselves in order to the Frankenwalters, accompanied the trip to the tip with the Sultans of Ping F.C., recovered with cake and Divine Comedy, indulged in extravagant bouts of cleaning to the Stiff Little Fingers and ultimately sat down to roast beef with Catchers and The Cranberries.

Cleaning. Aargh. )
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Help me, LJ, you (and your knowledge of physics) are my only hope.

Why do LEDs bounce up and down in car mirrors?

The mirror never lies, it's just these foolish eyes )

So... has anyone else seen this happen? Anyone know why it happens?
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Things I saw on my way to work this morning...

A guy in his late twenties, striding down the platform, wearing skinny black jeans and a black velvet military-style jacket. He had dyed-black, artfully-messy hair and a general demeanour of hoping you'd mistake him for Russell Brand.

A grey-haired man in a sober suit, dark tie, polished black shoes and sensible anorak. As he crossed one leg over the other, he revealed hot pink stripey socks.

A bulky bloke wearing two incredibly thick, fluffy-looking hoodies. I wanted to hug him to see if he was as cuddly as he looked :)

A girl in her early twenties wearing fantasically high heels, a very tight, short, purple dress and a tiny black jacket. She looked stunning, but when she sat down in Natwest's waiting area she matched the purple chairs exactly.
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The hand-towel in the kitchen used to live on a hook, which was behind you and across the room as you stood at the sink. When we decorated the kitchen, we took down the hook (or had it fallen off the wall by then? I forget) and the towel has been living on the chair. Behind you and across the room as you stand at the sink.

Last weekend we put up a towel rail. It's directly in front of you as you stand at the sink. Handy, you'd think. Convenient. Easily in reach if you've got wet hands.

Except actually, it isn't convenient at all. Every time I get my hands wet I turn round, walk across the room, realise with vague surprise that the towel isn't there, swear, and walk back to the sink to dry my hands.

Every. Last. Sodding. Time.

Not only am I not a hoopy frood, I don't even know where my towel is.

Unelatedly, where did this Fiction Family album on my shelves come from? I don't remember buying it. I don't know who they are. It's quite pleasant, but it's a total mystery.
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Some inventions make you go "wow!" Some inventions make you go "wow.... why did no one thnk of that before? Why doesn't everyone do that?"

I am wrapping Christmas presents, using some wrapping paper I found in the back of the cupboard (probably bought in the January sales). I think it's Tesco Finest, though I can't now remember.

The back of the wrapping paper is marked with a faint dotted 1cm grid, to make it easier to cut straight. Genius!


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July 2017



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