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Not Everyone Wants To Know About My Night Out
After all, there is so much more going on in the world that Conrad can rant, tant, rave and <tries to think of a relevant word that rhymes and fails> opine about. Much of it in the realm of current affairs and politics, neither of which BOOJUM! is going anywhere near, unless there's a pun in the offing.
     The plan tonight is to prepare a skeleton for the blog - a carcass, if you will - before moving on to add a bit of matter, having a brief hiatus for Doctor Who, then returning to complete the construction and post after 20:00.
     This sounds like building a giant zombie monkey, so I have to apologise to Eric Williams, creator of "The Goon" who featured in those hallowed pages first.

I know, I know - it's not a giant.  Still, it is a monkey, and it is a zombie.

"Jentaculum"
Yessss.  Not a word one encounters every day, is it?  Conrad came across it in "Agincourt", where a person charges the court of Henry V the sum of £24 for a jentaculum.
     That's 1415 AD pounds, mind you, so it would probably have cost £240,000 in current pounds sterling.  And exactly what was it?
     Breakfast!  The latin name for breaking one's fast, coming before "Prandium", which you and I would know as "lunchtime".

Gent with speculum.  Close enough

"Syllabub"
Again, one of those odd words that pop up in the sea of soupy sewage that passes for a mind in Conrad.  No! it is nothing to do with academic study - not to be confused with "syllabus".  It is a dessert, or a drink, made from deliberately curdling milk or cream with an acid or other agent; Wikipedia stated that milkmaids would create syllabub by milking a cow into a bucket of cider, which strikes Conrad as a tad uncouth and also risking prosecution from Trading Standards.  An Eternal Syllabub is one with a fixing agent such as cornflour.

A delicious creamy - no, hang on -

     Alright, Conrad is now curious.  There are bound to be recipes for syllabubs on the internet.  The Mansion has plenty of milk and even some cream.  Whatever next ...


Conrad - Spelling Fascist
As You The Audience surely know by now, Conrad is a bit of a stickler* for getting the spelling correct, before reviewing the grammar and deciding if it's still not classified as lazy speech/writing/blogging.
     This may yet get him into trouble at work.  "Why?" I hear you plea.  "Surely not!" and also "You deserve it!" from a dissenter at the back**.
     Well, because of the hand-chalked sign in the cafe at work.  If Conrad is starting late he gets a large Espresso, sits in the atrium and delicately sips his drink whilst reading the Metro and scrawling insulting reviews of said rag.  On Friday he spotted the sign whilst queuing for his Espresso*** -

      "blackcurrent" 

     - of a smoothy.  He pointed out to staff that it should be "blackcurrant", and lo!  the serving girl summoned forth the manager from the back office and pointed out the mistake, gloatingly.
     We shall see come next week if Conrad ever gets served again, and if he does, exactly what gets stirred into the coffee.

Black currents, electric prunes - easily confused

Darling Daughter Decamps
It was one of Sally's more bitter disappointments that she couldn't move out of the Mansion in 2013.  Nothing to do with getting past the barbed-wire barricades and the minefields and the Mutant Messenger Mice and the Guard Hog (and his brother the Hard Hog, who was in "Razorback" as a stunt double) and the occasional outre visitor (giant moles, land-mobile sharks, cuddly piranhas).
     No, none of the above.  Tertiary funding the culprit. Conrad feels - well, shallow and unworthy that the reason is so prosaic.
     Anyway, today Sally moved out to her flat in the halls of residence, Conrad helping in a very minor way - Degsy and Wonder Wifey did most of the heavy lifting.

Before - all the kit has arrived

Halfway there - kit unpacked, student still standing around waiting to be tidied.

     I am afraid you will need to wait another nine months for the "After" photo, which will show how much extra stuff Sal has acquired.

Doctor Who
A rather light-hearted nod to "Robin Hood Prince of Thieves", Errol Flynn and Douglas Fairbanks, tonight's episode featured very probably the only sword vs. spoon duel you will ever see.  As it was written by Mark Gatiss we also get a bit of self-referral - the Miniscope from "Carnival of Monsters" gets a mention, and the Doctor is shown to be comprehensively paranoid - and also entirely wrong about a certain leading character.  I can't say more or I'd spoil it.

Isherwood.  Close enough
 ( and yes, that is who you think it is playing Christopher Isherwood ...)

     The castle interior and exterior and the butts sets were very well done, props to whoever scouted the location and the set dressers, but I feel they did miss a Star Trek Next Generation moment with Alan A'Dale and his <insert swear here> annoying lute - you know!  where Whorf takes Geordie's lute with a polite "excuse me" and then smashes it to splinters.

Loot.  Close enough

     Nice to see Ben Miller playing a baddie, playing a baddie looking slightly like Rob  Brydon, playing a baddie looking slightly like Rob Brydon and even more like Anthony Ainsley.  You know, the second iteration of The Master.  Is that relevant?  Only <cringe> time will tell ...
     Conrad also has to say that, as a practicing toxophilist, nobody drew their bowstrings properly.  There is a technique to archery, and it has nothing to do with Ambridge.

 - and she has nothing to do with carbonaceous material provided by the male of the species^

* Mister Hand points out this euphemism means "an anal-retentive compulsive corrector" 
** I know who you are and where you live and the Atlantic isn't going to stop me, matey.
*** As ever, it is dangerous, positively dangerous to allow Conrad "loiter-time"
^  Sorry, just felt like showing off - Mister Hand will now poke me with a bamboo skewer