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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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Today, my lunch involves sandwiches containing leftover ham[*] from the weekend's roast.

At the glazing stage, I realised that we had run out of maple syrup. And honey. And mustard. And pretty much anything else any sensible person would use as a glaze.

In the end I used bucksfizz marmalade and some generic creole seasoning. It's come out surprisingly well :)

[*] I went to buy a gammon joint, got excited because there were actually bacon joints available and bought one of them instead, cooked it and now it's ham. Pigs are confusing.
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Some time ago, someone gave me a Rituals Foaming Shower Sensation in White Lotus and Green Tea. It's the sort of ridiculous posh toiletry that I enjoy, but would never buy for myself. Having been forgetting to dig new shower gel out of the cupboard for weeks (and stealing ChrisC's in the interim, don't tell him) I broke it out this morning.

It's a dispenser basically like shaving gel, and on use it squirted out foam in the usual manner - lovely, creamy, beautifully-scented foam. Foam also bubbled out from under the lid, and I ended up with handfuls of the stuff. I put the can down to start actually getting showered, looked away from it... when I looked back, it was still busily disgorging foam. The entire corner of my shower had turned into an artistic sculpture of pouring white foam.

I joggled the cap (no difference). I pried the cap off (foam poured busily out of the hole in the top of the canister). I tried jamming the lid on again (it filled up with foam, popped off, and sailed away on a billowy white sea).

Soon I was shin-deep in White Lotus and Green Tea. So that really was a foaming shower sensation, but sadly now there is none left :(
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Earlier this week, I bought some tickets for Doctors, Dissection and Resurrection Men. It's an exhibition at the Museum of London, following the excavation of a burial ground which contained "extensive evidence of dissection, autopsy and amputation, bones wired for teaching, and animals dissected for comparative anatomy". I bought the tickets on a Time Out special offer.

Based on that, Time Out have just sent me an email of further offers they think might interest me: cut-price deals on Brazilian bikini waxing, rabbit vibrators, a bulk buy of 50 condoms, a "boudoir" photo-shoot or a "Boink Box" (no, really).

I remain lightly bewildered. And very slightly concerned that I have misunderstood about the resurrection men.

Test

Jun. 18th, 2012 11:02 am
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Can I post?

Edit I can. So what part of the entry I wanted to post is causing the "Sorry, there is a problem with the content of the entry" error message...

Answer The URL. Dunno why.
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I live in a block of flats, and it's not uncommon to find parcels left on the doormat outside "my" front door. This is fine, I don't think the other 9 households in my block are liable to steal my parcels.

However, I think it's technically against the Royal Mail's own rules. It's hard to tell, because their delivery people constantly ignore the rules anyway. But, in this particular case, I don't mind because I think it's safe enough and it means I don't have to battle my way to the sorting office.

Wednesday's postman clearly felt a little guilty at leaving my parcel on the doormat, so he very carefully made sure no one would steal it )
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Someone just notified me that my usual (personal) email address is bouncing. OK, I think, I wonder why... I'll go and log on to mydomain.com and check my settings.

But... mydomain isn't there. It's website doesn't load. How very perplexing.

So... has anyone seen any news to do with this?

Also, if you get your domain from mydomain, your email etc may not be working.

Edit In true comical fashion, the domain reappeared as I posted this. Still seeing packet loss, though, and attempts to log in time out.

Edit2 And it's gone again. Our survey says DDoS.
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Twitter is a strange beast.

I noticed earlier that a user I'd never heard of had re-tweeted a throwaway remark I made (in the guise of Pintwatch) to [livejournal.com profile] leathellin. Who is this aboutdignity, I wondered.

It turns out that it's an account which appears to re-tweet any remark anyone makes which contains the word "dignity". Even more strangely, it has 1500 followers.

Is this an isolated oddity, or are these aggregating accounts common things ? Would following it tell me something deep and meaningful about life, dignity, and the human condition ? It seems rather unlikely, to me, since pattern-matching on text has rarely produced much that's hugely insightful. Except by accident.

Do people follow in the hopes of serendipitous wisdom from the masses ?
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I'm in Whitby, for the folk festival. I'm walking home from a ceilidh, and an accidental concert which sucked me in as I walked past. I hear, in the distance, the wooo-wooo of "Elizabeth", Whitby's steam bus[*].

And the first thing I think is "... it's the Mushroom Crab Man".

[livejournal.com profile] battyblingtrash, you have a lot to answer for.

[*] No, I have no idea what it was doing whistling at one thirty in the morning. Maybe I imagined it.
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Well, last night I had the wrongest drink in the world )
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I have just received the weirdest LJ comment I've ever seen. It's on this thread:

http://venta.livejournal.com/269155.html

It looks like the sort of cobbled-together bilge that might feature in the body of spam email to try and fool Bayesian filters, but I'm baffled as to what it's doing on my LJ.
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On Wednesday evening I wended my way home back up the towpath after [livejournal.com profile] purple_pen's birthday celebrations. I saw not a single soul, bipedal or feathered, all the way along the path. Eventually, as Donnington Bridge loomed large over the river, I found the missing birds. Under the bridge, around fifty or more ducks and geese were floating, silent and stationary, in the middle of the river. They were all looking, expectantly, back towards town. They weren't blinking (do ducks blink?), and they weren't making any noise. Just waiting.

A short time later, I walked back over the bridge[*]. The ducks and geese had dispersed, around ten had settled by one bank, and the remainder floated against the other. I can only assume that this is an avian form of voting. This was the annual great waterfowlmoot, and something serious is afoot. The motion as firmly carried (or possibly soundly defeated). Expect ducks to take over the world imminently.

[*] I appreciate that the obvious question here is what was I doing walking backwards and forwards over Donnington Bridge. It goes like this: Donnington Bridge is a largely symetrical structure, with equally bland scrubby patches of greenery and brick houses on each side. When I climb up onto the bridge from the towpath, I have to pause, visualise a map of Oxford, and work out from first principles which way to turn to get to my house. I did this on Wednesday, calculated that I should turn left, and was thus somewhat surprised to find myself at the wrong end of the road heading for the Fox & Hounds.

Subsequent attempts to recalculate confirmed that (a) left was the correct answer and (b) I'd gone right. I have no idea why. I'm usually pretty good on left and right. My only possible explanation is that I was distracted as I got to the road by a fox running along the pavement, and, watching him, turned right through long force of habit born of too many trips home from the Isis Tavern. As I walked along, I had my eyes firmly on the ground as I attempted not to squash hundreds of snails and thus failed to notice the wrong scenery going past.

Either that or someone temporarily flipped Donnington Bridge by 180 degrees. Bastards.
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A couple of years ago, I mourned the passing of everyone's favourite M4 landmark, the big illuminated Lucozade sign.

As the building on which it lived was demolished, the sign was dismantled and taken to languish somewhere in a museum. At the time, JC Decaux commented that they might consider erecting some form of replacement.

This came up in conversation a week or two ago, and I grumbled that, of course, they hadn't. Then... on Friday night, I drove down the M4 towards central London and, lo and behold, found a new Lucozade sign. It's on the other side of the road on (I think) the GlaxoGlaxoSmithKlineBeechamDibbleAndGubb building. It's a version of the current Energising Britain Lucozade advert, but with the Britain all orange and spangly.

I'm not sure if it's a permanent fixture - maybe it is just an advert - but I approve anyway.

In other news, rapper practice last week was enlivened by the arrival of a large, black, flying beetle which buzzed around and flew into the lights a lot. Other people in the team assured me, most seriously, that it was a Cock Chafer. This, I feel, is not the sort of beastie which ought to be allowed into a respectable village hall. This week, another one (or very possibly the same one) arrived to join us, prompting me to actually get round to looking it up. I didn't quite find the courage to google for "cock chafer", but Wikipedia assures me that it really is such a thing.

My favourite quote of this evening was someone mentiong that an absent member used to do re-enactment with the English Civil Service Society. I had no idea such a body existed. Anyone fancy it ? Bring own rolled umbrella.
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So, this morning I was attacked by a hit-and-run manicurist. This evening, I went out for dinner and came home carrying a surfboard.

This happens to everyone, right ?
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Last time I wrote about Kirtlington Lamb Ale, mention was made of Christopher Lee in a dress.

I still didn't see him this year, but once again I did see the strange spectacle of little girls in white frocks and pink ribbons dancing round a lamb. This time I have photos (or will have, when the little plasticy film-things have the magic done to them). And however freaky little girls in white with pink ribbons are, the spooky pagan effects are spoiled when they're dancing in a school playground, in blazing sunshine, beamed on by a large crowd.

Last night, however, it was a different story. )

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