I'm so unobservant, I hadn't noticed that my last post was this blog's 900th. If I'd realised, I wouldn't have wasted it making a lame joke about Lionel Blair. But still, having glided effortlessly past the 900 mark, if I continue at my current rate, I should hit the thousand by, oooh, about 2008. It almost makes it seem worth carrying on.
Anyhoo, the good news from around here is that the men who've been loitering in my hallway for the past month have finally finished installing the building's new fire alarm system, and having been here when they tested it yesterday afternoon, I'm happy to report that it's loud enough to wake not only me, but also the dead, whilst simultaneously removing any loose fillings and giving you tinnitus. Frankly it would be less painful to burn to death.
But that aside, I learnt the value of old-fashioned chivalry this week, when I selflessly poisoned Lisa with a Cumberland Pie. Visiting her mother last Friday, we had two of the things palmed off onto us, one with a use-by date of the 7th, the other the 8th. Naturally they were still in my fridge come 5pm on Tuesday, so I stuck one in the oven for my tea. Having cooked it for 25 minutes (200 degrees celsius, top shelf - write in for the factsheet), Lisa arrived home from work with a look of desperate hunger in her eyes, and having watched her eyeing up my pie, which by this point was only seven hours from expiry, I gave in to my chivalrous nature, and let her have it.
At the time of course, it was quite a hardship having to wait another 25 minutes for the second pie to cook, but my suffering was eased somewhat by watching Lisa having to lock herself in the bathroom for the rest of the evening as the effects of a clearly dodgy Cumberland Pie took hold. A Cumberland Pie which I'd have eaten myself had she stayed at work just five minutes longer. There's a lesson there. Though I'm not sure what it is.
Fortunately the Pie of Death had worked its way out of Lisa by Wednesday morning, so I kindly agreed to meet her for lunch for the third day running. I was beginning to lose patience with the local coffee shop's insistence on charging me £1.30 for a cup of tea, so I decided this time to opt for a simple can of Diet Coke instead. Being a high class establishment, they'd obviously been to Lidl for their beverages, and handed me a cheap German can of Coke, containing wasser, koffeinhaltiges and sussungsmitteln, complete with a phone number to ring in Berlin if I had any questions. Making it all the more galling when they proceeded to charge me £1.30 for that as well.
I'm staying at home today.