young love and a bag of yoghurt

Jomas has got himself a girlfriend.

Madame has got herself a new bag for her yoghurt mat.

What did I get? Nothing. Not even the day off. Holiday Monday and I'm WORKING. Humph. Hang on ...

um, forgot ...

She very kindly spent some time on my Myspace page yesterday and it's now new and improved and bright and sunny. A main theme of Partick Thistle colours - red, yellow and black - with hints of marine blue. And she's added some captions to the pictures.

I am a bear of small brain and short memory. I expect I was distracted by all the Rufus that's going on around me. He's on tomorrow night - the Radcliffe and Maconie show - the always excellent Mr. Radcliffe and Mr. Maconie. The chances of her doing anything else - say, answering the phone or noticing if the house burns down - between 8pm and 10pm tomorrow night will be extremely limited. Radio on and bear on best behaviour. If I want to live to see Wednesday.

And Jomas's new girlfriend is called Lily-Button. Allegedly. Looks like a Gladys to me.

chocolate, bears, and grumpy like it's 1953

Latvians, bears and chocolate

Latvians, bears, chocolate and Estonians

I was hoping to get some background information from Jomas on these two items. But he's sulking. How was I supposed to know that he felt like that about the Pet Shop Boys?

Anyway. Humpf. We do all know that polar bears are smug, annoying, and responsible for global warming - don't we? Oh, well. Here's that Knut. Now he might be an iceberg botherer but ... death threats ... that's not big or clever. Sounds like a job for Lawyerbear. A good mauling. It's the only language that these criminals understand.

She's just wandered past. She sniggered. "You're turning into Noel Gallagher, you are. Next you'll be demanding they bring back National Service and rickets." An excellent idea. National Service. Not rickets. Hum.

This'll be middle age then.

Blah. She's bitter. I'm keeping her off the puter and there are new, exciting pictures of that Rufus bloke to dribble over. Rufus in lederhosen. Truly. Unless I was hallucinating.

I could be. She's tapping my head with a teaspoon and singing.

"I'm a little teapot" since you asked.

Badly.

Right. I'm off to write letters to the Daily Mail in green ink about the decline in standards.

If you are free of sugared-up women then you might want to have a wander over to The Weekly - Mr. Nash and Mr. Millington's fine production. Cast out the pesky!

back to work blues

Hello. Back from holiday and back to work. A lot of tiredness and grumpiness about. Survived the trip to Latvia. Just. Hoping to get some insights into the Latvian character and culture from my new Baltic sidekick Jomas. Apparently Latvians like to sing and dance - this seems unlikely but it says so here so I won't argue. Can't say I've seen much evidence of it yet. He will dance a bit - if you prod him with a pencil - but no singing. He did get quite excited when he heard some Gwen Stefani nonsense on the radio. Hum. Maybe he's secretly Norwegian.