For reasons of carelessness described below, I've just had to perform my ablutions while wearing a rubber glove.
It was nowhere near as much fun as one might imagine. In fact, the only thing going through my head (other than 'that was the wrong hand with which to make a dive for the bathplug') was 'This is the sort of thing that steer
The carelessness was in accidentally launching the breadknife off a worksurface while there was a ferret below. Like a pillock I tried to catch the thing (knife, not ferret) on the way down and got a palmful of sharp end. It was one of those cuts that you can stare stupidly at and think 'You know, that's going to hurt like a bastard any second now... Here it comes... And... Ow fuck.
Earlier in the day, I was able to fondle and indeed pilot round the station carpark a Giant SCR2. Very fine. The damn thing weighs nothing
, and given it's at the cheap end of road bikes, that can only mean the expensive end is lighter still.
Before that we discover that the previously mentioned 'Noise and electronic music' CD collection cheerfully stretches the definition of 'music'. As the liner-notes mention, Russolo wasn't much of a composer. However Survival Research f-ing shred and Pauline Oliveros tries the patience of the listener splendidly. Ideal stuff for getting rid of people at parties. Unless they're all intransigent Peelites, of course.