I Say I Say - I'm From The UK

Just So We're Clear Here
Wouldn't do to have you imagine your humble scribe sat on the plains of the Serengeti, tapping away on a laptop, or in the depths of a Brazilean favela, nor yet the mountain fastnesses of the Adige plateau*.
     If BOOJUM! could speak then my English accent would be an infallible guide, to all outside the UK if not in it - born in the South yet lived in the North, Conrad has a peculiar blend of both.
     He can, however, ham it up with Exaggerated Received English for any visiting Americans.  And one of the more bizarre things about this assumed twang and style is that it mirrors perfectly the speech of Lord Peter Wimsey's assumed character in "Murder Must Advrtise"**.
     Enough of this Intro - on with the motley!

Here's Conrad being all - no, hang on, wait a minute - 

A Slight Matter Of Maths
SIT BACK DOWN!
Don't worry, I won't bother you for long and there won't be any algebraic calculations.  Art Department?  Get up and work, you idle sloven!

Look!  Look at how loved I am!
I think.

     Gaze in awe at those pageviews.  Actually that's not too impressive a figure, and there are compensations to not being too successful.  For one, I don't bother to attribute pictures. Aren't I wicked!  And a lot of the stuff I post is, frankly, slanderous libel (except for the stuff about First Bus, because that's all true) which would not be looked on with delight by the parties mentioned.
     As a matter of fact I was drawing attention to the number of posts.   777.  A nice symmetrical number, as is 488884, which was the number of a case I created today. Symetrical, perhaps even palindromic***.

Still Out!
Yes by Jove, Michael Gove.

How long can I keep this post going?  We'll see!

     I have decided that the bulbs aren't replaced by telekinesis or teleportation, but by TRANSMUTATION!
     Since this means a volume of air turning spontaneously into a giant high-wattage lightbulb, the chances of this happening are about 1 in 27 Universe lifetimes, rather beyond the design life of the Electric Goldfish Bowl.

THE PEN 15 MIGHTIER THAN THE SWORD
Get it?

Count 'em

     I took this whilst Dave "Mr Yorkshire" Kerry was also in the kitchen, and he - being a well-read chap and all that^ - recognised the quote.
     "Couldn't you fashion them into a replica of a sword?" he enquired.
     "Possibly, Dave, but I'm on "Personal" time and can't be gone too long," I explained.

And Yet More Photographic Mirth
Today we got the opportunity to buy large numbers of Starbursts as a result of a promotional event in the atrium.
     So - behold the "Starcrossed"

     Believe me, this will not be the only pun derived from these sweets.  The good thing about Starbursts is their regular flat surface and square shape, making them excellent for building things.

Conrad Still Defiantly ICBM
 - as I explained to Janice.  "Ice Cream Breakfast Man", the evidence herewith:

Raspberry Yoghurt and Avocado & Coconut.  Absolutely delicious!

     She's another one who believes it peculiar to eat ice cream for breakfast.
     Hazel, lovely lady that she is, backed me up in the freedom of man to choose to eat ice cream for breakfast.
     You and me against the world, Hazel!

Pineapple Tin
"Ah," I hear you saying.  "Conrad's not lost it, because he never had it in the first place, the poor old trout - " YES thank you for your kind consideration^^.
    Mention of "Pineapple Tin" is no mere random wordplay.  I refer to an event in Jerome K. Jerome's^^^ classic "Three Men In A Boat".  Anyone who says "What?" will be put out of the airlock (I know we're not in space but I will buy time on Challenger, get you up to the ISS and then put you out of the airlock; that's how serious I am).
     In this particular folly, the boating trio sit down to enjoy a tin of pineapple chunks, only to realise - O folly! - that they have not brought a tin-opener.  They try to open it with a metal spike, narrowly avoiding death.  Then they try to batter it open with a rock.  Unavailingly.  They carry on beating it with a rock until they bash it into a shape that frightens them so much they throw it in the river.

The tin.

     The shape was that of a grin ...
     This little tale of JKJ's is not only hilarious, it also stands for all the inanimate insolence that the material world offers up against us mortal folk - the door that won't close, the car that won't start, the tap that drips, the gun that backfires, the cup handle that breaks off, all these and more.
     This morning I had my own Pineapple Tin -

The guilty party!

     I rested it against the lockers prior to taking my coat off, when it promptly fell over, so I gently tapped it upright with my foot.  It fell over again.  Struggling with my coat, I kicked it harshly and determinedly into the upright position.
     Mockingly, it fell over again.
     With such force that if anything breakable had been inside this insolent article then it would have come out as confetti, I kicked it into an upright position.
     Chastened, Bag remained upright.
     Conrad =1 ; Bag = 0

     Don't let there be a re-match, Bag.

Good gracious!  950 words?  I thought I'd been less chatty than usual.  And the 60 minute timescale is also upon us.  Well, you'll just have to wait until tomorrow for <Mister Hand intervenes for the sake of brevity and sanity>


* Italy.
** Strange but true.  Reading yourself speaking is very odd.
*** This is not a type of camel.
^ No feeble jokes at the expense of the Red Roses here.
^^ Backstabbers.  I know where you live.
^^^ One cannot help but feel that his parents were a trifle, shall we say, unimaginative?