Conrad, as you ought to know by now, is the Arch-Spelling Nazi From Hell, who checks every single character as it is typed to ensure that it remains correct at all times.
If you are not gifted with a knowledge of the Slavic languages, then yah booh sucks to you, and allow your humble scribe to variously entertain or educate you, either will do, as long as you tell your friends to attend.
"STOI!" is Russian for "Stop", which is useful to know if the folks at Sheremetyevo Airport suddenly start to point guns at you. This has happened to your humble scribe on occasion, usually because those swine from UNIT or Spectrum have put me down on the "Person of Interest" list. I keep telling them, it was only a SMALL and ACCIDENTAL nuclear explosion.
 |
| Utterly unlike this large and deliberate one |
Anyway, this has nothing to do with what follows*.
I dare say that Conrad's default condition is Cross. There are so many things about the human condition that propel him in this direction that it's a wonder he can concentrate long enough to type.
"What can the old curmudgeon possibly find to rant about at 6:52 a.m. in the morning?" I hear you carp. "It's nearly Christmas."
Okay, it's 6:52 on a dark, damp December day. I say "day" but that needs qualifying, as at present we need to keep the lights on ALL THE TIME. There. That's one thing to be cross about - the British weather. Never extreme enough to be dangerous or terrifying, just disgustrous. Dim, dismal and dank. Conrad comes from an ice-world with average surface temperatures of -450 so cold holds no fears for him; it's the miserable grey damp that taints his Weltanschaung**.
 |
| If this isn't a Weltanschaung, it deserves to be |
Secondly, Christmas. This is a seasonal event that seems to begin in September and causes all manner of problems, at least to your humble scribe as it involves a change of routine. Conrad, above all else, is a creature of habit. Tomorrow threatens to include a trip round the Christmas markets of that modern Babylon, Manchester, which he would be entirely happy to avoid. Janice, however, has other plans and will handcuff herself to me in order to - well, you get the idea. She means business, that girl.
Okay, Intro over, let the madcap motley that is BOOJUM! begin!
 |
| Janice being all businice |
More Of Denied
I may re-use that photograph of the egg mayo, because it's relevant and I get a delicious feeling of naughtiness when re-using the same photograph. Can't attach it now as I am working on this at work, aptly enough.
You can call this a "Reprise" which word I first came across on Pink Floyd's "Dark Side Of The Moon", just as a snippet of information.
Okay, now at home, let's prod Art awake and -
Further to the issue of Conrad and his love of rotting meat, almost, Dee suggested I needed a sponsor and a 12-point plan to get over this worrying addiction.
Ha! I found a jar of honey in the kitchen, as detailed:
 |
| Practically in date |
More Of What Makes Me Cross
If you don't like reading about my domestic routine, then - actually I will pander to you, just this once. Art?
| There you go. Pandered |
Not of late! Apparently our servers have been updated and the Blogger stats pages won't load as a result. No matter what resort, all you end up with is an error message.
The last time there was a problem it was with blog content. As you may, or may not if you're one of the newbies here, know, BOOJUM! is strictly safe for work. No nudity or swearing. Nuclear weapons and zombies, yes; swearing, no. So what on earth was the nanny-net bleating about? With the latest server iteration I can now Google "Boojum!" and "Voles" and not be told I'm a cursing pornography-promoting pervert.
But still, no stats!
Finally
Sorry, I just couldn't resist it.
| There you go. Panda'd |
* This is pretty much par for the course. Sorry if it annoys!
** German for "World View". Yes, I could have just put "World View" but that takes all the pretentious fun out of it.
*** We only ever use IMPERIAL measures on this blog. No metric nonsense.
No comments:
Post a Comment