The Cake's In The Oven, Conrad's On The Blog

Pretty Much Business As Usual, Then
     Just FYI, it's a Polenta Cake.  Made with polenta.  I bake it tonight so that, by tomorrow, it will have cooled down and I can ice it.  No raspberries as topping this time - sliced peaches the way to go, I think, since we don't have strawberries.

Strawberries are dull.  Here's a picture of a cyborg combat camel instead.

Shakespeare's Birthday
     Hack spit!  Cannot stand the man and his works, even though every literary critic evah thinks the sun shines out of his nether fundament.  I bet if a shopping list of Mr. S. ever gets discovered, the critics will rave about the "symbolism, and the metre, and the blank verse, and the imagery, especially about the quart of mead and the duck eggs".  Bah!  I've had to endure Macbeth, Measure For Measure, Romeo and Juliet, King Lear, and sonnets.  You denizens of foreign countries can count yourself lucky, as O Level and A level studies here in the UK meant you had to study Shakespeare.
     I did read "The Tempest" out of curiosity, because the plot was - broadly - nicked by the screenwriters for one of my favourite films, "Forbidden Planet".  So for Prospero read Doctor Morbius, for Caliban read Robby the Robot and for Aerial read Altaira.
     My dad used to read Shakespeare for enjoyment.  Shakespeare?  No, Conrad shakes head.

A scene from "Loves Labours Lost", with Kenneth Bra - no, hang on -

April 22nd Shading Into April 23rd
     I quite forgot it was Saint George's Day today, until driving through Royton I spotted a flag on every lamp-post.
     Nowadays Georgie wouldn't have gotten away with poking great big holes in a dragon.  The RSPCA would be out for a prosecution, and the Home Office would want to know if he was doing-in native animals on the endangered list? and the local council would definitely be up for action against someone breaking rules about riding a horse in a public place - and, inevitably, the police would like to see a licence for that formidably large and pointy weapon you have there, sir?

Right now, Anna is penning a stiff letter to the Guardian about this disgraceful incident

     Whilst all that went on, Evil would be having a good laugh.  The night of April 22nd, you see, is one of the important nights in the social calendar of Evil: Walpurgisnacht.  Essentially, all the Evil creatures go out and PARTYEEEE! that night, as the next day celebrates the overthrow of Evil, although if they celebrate like humans then April 23rd is probably most dreaded because of the hangover*.

"What was I drinking last night?  Diesel and Drain-Unblocker?  I feel so ill I don't care if Good triumphs."

"Blended For Britain"
     A hoarding near work featured this Garnier advert, leading Conrad to wonder if this a uniquely British advertising campaign?  How would it work abroad?  What is the Croatian for "Blended for Croatia"?
     Apparently it's "Sjedinem za Hrvatska".
     Doesn't really roll off the tongue, does it?

Blended for Croatia!  Probably not good for your skin, mind.

Today In The Heavenly Kingdom
     Thus shall Conrad dub his workplace, and no, he still won't tell you where he works.  Just in case.  They're always on the lookout, watching, spying, peering over your shoulder to try and catch you out -
     No!  Not the management.  MI5.  They keep a weather eye open for aliens.  As long as they can't actually prove anything, Conrad is safe, and why lead them right to his door on Floor S - whoops, nearly gave it away!

"We're still keen to meet Conrad, too. Let's not be strangers!"

     Getting back to the heavily-laboured point, all our IT died at 9:30, with no ETA for it coming back to life again.  Nicole, the manager's manager's manager, declared an intent to see if there were any games around.
     "I've got "Who's In The Bag?" loudly chorused Conrad, like one of those reviled kids who always has an apple for teacher.
     Hence legally-sanctioned gaming took place, if only briefly before the IT returned.
     Oh you want proof?

Date-Expired Food: A Challenge Not A Warning
     Anna had been cleaning her cupboards out and discovered a pack of mince pies and a Christmas pudding, and she obviously remembered the naked greed with which Conrad fell upon the mince pies at Christmas time**, for she brought them into work.
     "The Christmas pudding is okay until 2015," she warned, "but the mince pies -"
     "Yes thanks," replied Conrad, snatching them from her hands so fast the paper pack had scorch marks.  Shortly after he ate them all with a cup of coffee.
     "A bit dry," was my analysis.  "Which means they went down well with a drink."
     "I hope you're not ill," replied Anna.
     Pshaw!  This is the man who ate stew fished out of the bin, with no ill effects!***

Mints pie.  Close enough

So - That's How It's Done!
     At lunch in the canteen, Conrad espied a crane in the distance, lifting what he first believed to be a concrete reservoir.
     But no!  Forsooth^, it was the top part of a jib crane.  

Et voila!  The deed is done

Finally
     Because I have no shame, and because puppies are cute



*  Conrad never gets them.  Alien metabolism, you see.
**  Conrad 12 Mince Pies 0
***  alien digestive system, you see.
^  That's as Shakespeare as you're going to get today, matey