Anyhoo (yes "anyway" was already taken).

Will I never learn?

Mothers are wonderful aren't they? Mention in passing anything which has some semblance of a story or plot, and before you can remember that you've just done a really silly thing, she is in there with how the story ends, usually posed as an innocent question.

I would have thought that watching Abigail's Party with her years and years ago ought to have taught me to never let her speak, but still I haven't managed it. If you haven't seen Abigail's Party, then you ought to, but also you most cease and desist reading this post immediately.

Now that the spoiler warning is out [and if you are ignoring it, don't say I didn't warn you], I can demonstrate my mother's awesome power of ruining anything. In Abigail's Party the hostess (for the party that isn't Abigail's) spends much of the evening trading polite insults with her husband. However, at one point she's had enough, and snaps at him "Oh drop dead". Cue my dear mother chiming in with "And he does!". Thanks for that, because I really love knowing the ending before I know the rest of the plot.

[It's safe again].

Needless to say (but what the heck, I'll say it anyway), the book I mentioned that I'd started a couple of days ago, which was The Day of the Triffids, has been very briefly summarised by my mother. I'm not best pleased, as I'm not even a third of the way through it.

It's like telling a roundhead before the civil war that Cromwell was a bit of a lunatic, and that the royal family will be around for at least another 300 years yet. Or asking 1930s Germany if Hitler was the one who kills himself when Germany loses the war. Rather takes the fun out of it.

Maybe I ought to force-feed her Grolsch? Maybe then she'll get the "not yet" message. Or maybe not.

And speaking of ... god knows what, here be BE'd blog that I actually can stand reading, and with a fair amount of material I was inclined to nick. How's that for praise and a half?

Whereas I'm still hoping no-one points out that a large chunk [thematically] of the last post had already appeared on here. Oh. Sorry, I thought it already had, in more detail, but Blogger can only find one other instance.

Anyway, back to TDOTT. I know it was written in the era when everyone smoked, but it seems as if every single time the main narrator does anything it's "I lit a cigarette". I suppose I'm only on day two, and there haven't been that many. But if he carries on at this rate, he'll become the Marlboro man by the end of the book.

Completely random thought du jour. Has any form of electronic media made use of that staccato interference noise that speakers produce just before someone's mobile rings or beeps? Surely it must have turned up in some dance track by now [or have I not been listening?]. I mean if people can use the Casualty theme tune...

Having just heard the news about Blunkett, can I be alone in wondering how long it will before he dons a cape and is found hanging banners from a tightrope slung between Big Ben and Portcullis House? Or perhaps how long will it be before some F4J allusion appears in a political cartoon.

Given how much attention this case will obviously receive, what else is around in the political milieu that might benefit from the distracted spotlight?

And with that happy thought, I'll finish.

Anyhoo,