Last night I had a highly disturbing dream involving George W. Bush. Enough said. I blame this on the fact that yesterday there was a W lookalike on the bus. He had the same sticking-out ears, the same squished-up, reddened nose, the same watery bluey/greeny/greyey eyes, the same pattern of frown lines, and the same slightly-vacant expression. And he was even about the same age. Actually, it seemed to be taking all his concentration for him to brace himself upright on the moving bus and chew gum at the same time. Scary.
It is cold in London. The Evening Standard has a headline of DOOM - they claim it's going to get to -10 degrees C, and we're all going to die. (I might have exaggerated a little, but not much.) When I got in this evening, it was 14.2 degrees C in the front room upstairs, and I was so cold I could hardly type. Put the heating on for an hour, and it got up to 18.7 degrees, which is passable. I was wondering whether I should yell at the heating for being so slow, or chant encouragingly at it? What is the best way of getting inanimate objects to behave? Normally, I threaten them with violence, that seems to work, but should I, instead, be gently loving and caressing them into obedience?
This evening I ate pancakes with Canadian Tree Sugar, which I am going to refer to thusly because it's suitably silly. I am reminded of the cow-orker of someone from alt.poly (piranha?) who wouldn't believe that maple syrup came from trees. He thought it was a joke. We all boggled, at the time, and I'm still boggling now.
Here is an amusing link: Friends of gays should not be allowed to edit articles. For everyone who loves Wikipedia. Just read it, it's funny :)
Yeah, so... Am sleepy, and a bit brain-dead. Okay, though. Just hibernating a bit.