"Take That, You Bally Swine!"

So Would Biggles Pronounce
 - as he delivered a roundhouse punch to the jaw of Eric Von Stahlhein.  Don't mock, for a small bloke James Bigglesworth packed a pretty powerful punch.
     Conrad, big fan of Biggles.
     Which has nothing whatsoever to do with the rest of this Intro.
     Instead, we have - Carrot and Walnut Traybake! because it's been so long since I last baked a carrot cake that I couldn't find my old recipe.

In naked form

     Gluten-free and no dairy either at this stage (although by the time I got home Wonder Wifey had slathered it with a layer of Betty Crocker) as it uses sunflower oil in place of margarine or butter.  No icing on the above because it can only be applied to a cold cake.
     Made as a promise to WW because, bless her, she got me long johns to keep elderly bones warm this winter.  No, no, I shan't post a photo: whilst toasty warm they lack a lot in the "sexy" department.

Providing The Uploading Works
Yes, providing that.  Clearly it has, or the cake would be invisible.  Which would be good for the waistline, come to think of it, if a bit hard to promote on a blog.
     It took many a minute yesterday to load up that photograph of Edna the Despondent Dog, logging out of Blogger, logging back into Blogger, closing the C drive, cursing, kicking the PC around the room, closing the C drive again - oh, NOW it works!

- thus narrowly avoiding this

     Plus I couldn't get the traffic stats page to load at work, meaning a rather profound shock on logging on tonight half an hour ago and seeing 243 hits today.  243?  That's like half a week's visitors all in one day, and before I post this new stuff.
     "Ah, all your friends have looked at BOOJUM! once each!" I hear your quick explanation.
     Well, no, that won't wash as I don't even have 3 friends, let alone 243.  None of those 3 like me enough to visit 83 times each, either.
     Who are the rapscallions who trouble your humble scribe by actually visiting the blog?

The South Canadians!

     You can tell the Americans have a sense of humour, given that Conrad regularly resorts to gentle mockery of their peculiar trans-Atlantic ways*, and how he regards the American Revolution as something that never happened.  Mind you, given their shockingly disrespectful treatment of tea in Boston, your modest artisan does wonder if we really want the Colonies, don't you know.

Take That!  Nicolas Cage
Conrad is looking - okay, for any new readers out there, I'd better add in a little explanation before we reach TT and NC.  Yes, it will incidentally increase the word count, but since it's all gold, you can't really object, can you?  Th blog has a wide collection of made-up words and phrases that might mystify the first-time viewer, such as these -

"FIRST UNPLEASANTNESS": The First World War, a mostly European irruption 1914-1918.
"SECOND UNPLEASANTNESS": The Second World War, a rather wider and even more nasty business 1939-1945
"FOOFOODILLY": A nuclear weapon, euphemistically described to - hopefully! - fool all the intelligence service eavesdroppers.
"YOUR HUMBLE SCRIBE" "MODEST ARTISAN" "TALENTED TYPIST" "GIFTED AUTHOR": Conrad.  Or, if we are being extra-specially formal and real-world, Rob.
"OSCAR": Conrad's subconscious or memory, depending on what best suits the plot.
"MISTER HAND": Conrad's treacherous, defamatory and libellous /OR/ truthful, honest and self-deprecating Right Hand.

     Okay, back to the plot.  Art?

     Conrad has just been looking across the notebook at his elegant scrawl dealing with Miley Virus and recognising just how out of touch he is with current pop music**.  Yet even he, old and grey (white, actually, if we're being truthful) was convinced that there were more than 3 members of Take That.  5, wasn't it? Ah, here's Gina - she knew a thing or two about TT, namely that they'd been hit with a tax bill, so they were off to make revenue, or music, but probably the former.
     Then we have Nicolas Cage.  Nic is known as a man who knows how to spend money.  
     In his case, $150 millions worth.

A gift of a title - but I am not a cruel man.

     He blew through his money and then got hit with a tax bill for $6 million, and to make ends meet he took any kind of paying gig he could get.  
     He would, in other words, take this and - er - take that.
     Which is where we came in!

"I say - you haven't seen a camel around here, have you?"

Like his money!
Okay, I am a cruel man***.  

*  Adding sugar to baked beans.  Ewww!
**  Hoorah for me!
*** Know me for what I am.