Back, Badder And Better

Conrad Apologises -
Sorry if you logged on yesterday and expected a collection of polished puns, veneered verbiage, taut typing and other self-congratulatory shizzle.  As I had been out for a meal with the folks from work and didn't get back in until 9:30, creating 60 minutes-worth of novel content was a non-starter.  I even sacrificed my time at the Pub Quiz.
     "You don't go out often with work colleagues, Conrad.  What made the difference this time?" I hear you say.  
     Payday.  
     That puts everyone in a better mood, until at least Friday morning when the bank accounts are empty once again, and indeed in sufficiently good mood to tolerate your humble scribe's waspish wit and sober recollection, for - I may have mentioned this already - I am going sober for April.
     "Where did you go to?" is the next question off your lips.
     Wahacas, a Mexican restaurant in the Corn Exchange.
     "What was it like?" - REALLY!  Don't you have anything else to do other than harass this modest artisan?  O go on then.
     Here we see the ravening mob assemble:

Wine and mobile phones: the signature of today's youth

     This is on the upper deck, made artificially spacious by cunning use of mirrors.  Art?

Look closely and you can see Conrad taking the photo

     We then shuffled downstairs to the front of house and a table that only just accommodated us, although we had to stretch to accommodate Mark, who was only along for the ride, if you can call watching a load of gannets scoffing a ride.
     Art?  More photos.  Come on, you coal-chewing sloven!

Before: pristine

     I then worked my way through an Avocado and Bean Salad, which was surprisingly tasty, and a bowl of Baked Sweet Potatoes, and then a Pulled Pork Burrito, which was exceedingly tasty, and also very filling, and one of Anna's odd little deep-fried things, and one of Manisha's tacos that she didn't care to finish.
     

I suddenly remembered to get evidence

     Of course the most interesting part of the evening is when the bill arrives and basic arithmetic is put to the test.  Even more so last night as there was an "App" that allowed diners to pay for their own meal, before the usual departure of people early on who leave behind what they owe.

Summing up

     Conrad left before tempers wore thin, hoping to get home for perhaps nine o'clock.
     Silly me!  I reckoned without First Bus, as Oldham Bus Station is now completely closed off, with barriers wired-in to prevent anyone accessing it's hallowed ground.  A small paper tied to a barrier informed "409 King Street", without informing where King Street was, nor where on King Street the bus would stop.  Conrad perambulated the whole of Oldham town centre before arriving at the King Street bus stop seconds before the bus.
     An eventful end to the evening, one might say.
     Enough Intro, let the motley begin!

The Weather, Again
Back to the static shot.  Visibly drier and warmer than yesterday's fog-filled filthy air, which really isn't hard.  That haze in the distance warns of water in the air, and may predict more to come in greater quantities.  We here in the UK call this "Rain".  It is our friend, as we like to pretend, otherwise we'd go mad.

Yesterday

     Back to weather again, as quoted in "The History of the Grenadier Guards in the Great War" - "The weather, which at home is only noted by those with weak conversational powers ..."
     Really!  Chaps, this is not on, at all, as I have another photo from the same position, absent the distant haze.  Art?

Admit it, this is slightly different.

A New View From A Broad Lady
Amanda has just returned to work after being off sick for a couple of months, which has meant an enormous backlog of e-mails to work through, a whole lot of new staff she didn't recognise, new databases to work on (three of them!), a new manager and having to cope with Bonus, Incentive and Password Reset queries.
     Some things remain constant, however, one of which is Conrad's entertainment value.  "You make me laugh, with all your pots," opined Mandy.  I have one for my cutlery, and another to drink out of (alternate description: a mug), and another for my pens, which collection of which also amused Mandy.  Art?

22 of the little rascals

     Now, you know that Conrad is not at all acquisitive or materialistic*, apart from his pens.  You can't see the five clipped to the neck of his tee-short, not the eight on his computer desk back in the Upstair Lair, nor the four others lying on the floor -
     - I think you get the point.  Conrad:  all the pens, all the time, and potty with it.

Wow.  We're not over the time limit here, yet we've hit well over 800 words (in fact with this parenthetical addition we've hit 900).  It's all that guff about food, bulking up the blog as the food bulked up Conrad.  Don't worry, there's a heck of a lot more to come tomorrow**.

Finally -
A gob-smacked^ husky.

Why?  Because I can.

* This is a lie so large it's surprising the ink doesn't boil off the page as it's typed <honest commentary courtesy Mister Hand>
** Good?  Bad?  Only you can tell***!
*** Good.  I've decided for you.
^ English vernacular for "surprised"