Hats and socks

I had pizza for dinner today. It wasn't the best pizza I've ever had - really thin bottom and hardly any crust - but the mushrooms I had on it was fresh. At least that's something. The point is that this pizza made me think. The pizza was from yesterday so that would technically put it in the category of "left-overs". The pizza wasn't made by me or Mr. English so that makes it "take-out". I froze it in the freezer and then heated it in the microwave at work so that'd make it "pre-cooked". It's a very versatile dish the "day-after" pizza. Very versatile indeed. Now I wish I had more of it...

Silencio!

Do you have ever find yourself in a moment when you suddenly realise you're very far from the person you used to be? You wake up, you go to work and you do what you have to and then it just hits you. Like a big anvil from a cartoon movie that's being dropped on your head. BAM!

I understand this picture and just laughed silently to myself when I read it. It's like I don't even know myself anymore.

Full Marksh

I fell down some stairs today. Not a lot of stairs, just one or two, but during the time I managed to somehow twist my right ankle and sort of fall on it. I cried for a bit before I slowly (like really slowly) moved to a bench and sat down. So much pain. Luckily my intense medical training notified me of a) no bones were sticking out and b) I could move the foot without too much trouble so it wasn't sprained or broken. This left me with option c) I'm one hell of a freaking clutz and there's no way I should be allowed outside the apartment without a leash. Now I'm left with a foot that throbs every now and then (I suggest it wants to tell me that it's still there thank you very much), but I have tea and cake so I guess it isn't all bad. I also have Medicine Man on dvd - you know, one of those movies from the mid 90's that went on TV once and that everyone soon forgot. I can really recommend it - Sean Connery's funny. If nothing else - watch it for that!

Chatterbox

Bob is gone. He's left us all alone. In silence. I miss Bob, he was always brumming friendly when I came in through the door. He never said a bad word to either of us. Now he's gone and if all goes well, we will never ever see him again. It was nice knowing you Bob. May you poison someone else's life and raise their temperature with about 20 degrees. Good riddance! (Bob was the humidifyer - try to keep up.)

80's riff

Throughout the ages there's always been talk about who's a foreigner and who's not. Some people have made more of a deal of it than others, but it's always been there, lurking in the background. So, I suggest a solution to this problem. First of all I would like to say that there is at least one way to find out which language a woman speak as her first language. You see, no matter how excellent she is in speaking, say English, and no matter how much she convinces you that she is from England - if she gets knocked up and give birth to a baby, she'll scream at the top of her lungs. In her first language. It's true. That's how they caught Mata Hari. (If you don't know who that is I suggest you go and check it right now! NOW!) She slept with one of Hitler's boys and gave birth to a baby nine months later - while she blew the cover she'd had for years.
If you don't feel like either knocking someone up, or be knocked up, and wait for nine months I here suggest another idea. Let's bring the prejudice back. Let it be stamped in passports, let it be national traits which are wellknown. Let me exemplify.

You have a person who claims to be Swedish. Well, you put him/her in a grocerystore with a few groceries. Tell the person to go and pay for it and then you have someone cut in line right in front of the Swedish person. Now, if the person who claims to be Swedish reacts and tells the line-cutter off, then it's obviously not a Swedish person. We just don't do that. We mutter in anger.

Let me take another example. Let's take a person who claims to be English. We put him in front of a TV in a pub when there's a game going on with the team he says he supports. Then we also put another person in there who supports the other team. If a fight doesn't break out, he's not English.

Still not with me? Let's take a final example then. An Irish fellow. That's what he says anyway. Let's leave him alone in a room with a pint of beer for an hour. If the pint isn't finished when we get back - well, he's obviously not Irish, is he?