Beyond the Pie Chart

Work is depressing and demoralising once again. Last year we had a big severance scheme and lots of our friends lost their jobs - but at least they had a choice, they got a pay-out and a little party before they went.

It's much nastier now. People are still losing their jobs, but this time it is all sneaky and underhanded - now our friends and colleagues are just sort of disappearing in the night.

I don't have high hopes for my job lasting much longer.

So. What we normally do when we are at a particularly low ebb is to raise our spirits by talking about PIES.



As everyone knows, the best pies come from Wigan, as do the happiest pie-eaters.

Pies. Mmmmm. You can stick them in a barm, you can drizzle them with pea-wet, or you can cover them with sauce.



If I had a sauce bottle this lovely I would eat pies and chips and stuff every day.

A tip for real pie-lovers: put five or six pies on a skewer and call it a kebab.

When Art & Literature Collide

Cracking story in The Mirror yesterday. I am so delighted by this news!

If you are almost sick with anticipation already and don't know how you'll be able to wait until this story goes to air you could bide your time by doing a bit of background reading - and this is such a great storyline that you get two novels for the price of one! Not just any old novels, but two great literary works: Misery and Wuthering Heights.


If anyone would like to provide book reviews of either or both I would be most appreciative.

Come to think of it, if you're planning to buy your own copy of either title you might want to get in early - we have already seen how Corrie inflates book prices on Amazon.

Myself, I am too giddy to read. Giddy giddy giddy. As Voxra says, it's good to be giddy.

Frozen Pitch

Tonight I should have had a match to go to. Now the pitch is frozen, the game's off, and even our resident snowman looks as sick as a dog.



If you work in a place like this you need a mid-week game to maintain your health and happiness - where else is it socially acceptable to shout obscenities and sing filthy yet funny songs at the top of your voice non-stop for ninety minutes?

I need cheering up. I need to have fun. I need to sing and swear and laugh. I need a friend like Rick.

Back by Popular Demand

The Knitted Uterus! Many thanks to Pork Chop for reminding me of this thing of loveliness.

No, I have no idea what it's doing up a tree either. For those of you of a crafty bent, here are the instructions should you wish to make your own woolly womb. Who wouldn't?

Rummaging about, I have discovered that there are other anatomically correct things you can knit. Like a brain:



Isn't that astounding? Even more remarkable I think, is that there an entire Museum of Scientifically Accurate Fabric Brain Art.

Have a look at it, it's great! You can zoom in on the images and learn all sorts of stuff about neurology and textile art and the wonderful ingenuity of clever people with too much time on their hands.

Coming soon: how to crochet an entire environment.

A Weekend to Celebrate!

On Sunday some stuff is happening. First of all it's Valentine's Day.

What a miserable affair that is. Hanging about by the door, waiting for the postie, wondering if against all odds someone out there actually thinks you're attractive. Attractive enough to send you a card. Or a present!

Don't get too excited. First of all, it's not going to happen. And even if it did, Valentine gifts are tawdry and crass. You might get some chocolate, or you might get a single scentless rose in a plastic coffin (how's that meant to be romantic?) or if you're lucky you might get a cuddly toy like one of these:

This is really a real thing, that you can actually buy!

Enough of all that romantic crap. Sunday is also Chinese New Year. Woo-hoo!

What a lovely occasion Chinese New Year is. You can put on your best red frock and go into town and watch the Dragon Parade and the fireworks, and when you're done with all the hoo-ha you and your friends can go to a Chinese restaurant and have a sumptuous meal. Lovely lovely yum yum yum.

This year is the Year of the Tiger. That's gotta be good, doesn't it? These guys are already relaxing and getting ready for the party.

You should too! Happy New Year!!

Very Hot and Very Cold

We've been redecorated. Said like that, it sounds like a nice thing. In reality they have used the cheapest, most toxic paint on the market. We are all suffering from various symptons of chemical poisoning (albeit in a prettier environment than we previously had).

Not only that, but our offices are amazingly stinkingly hot. God only knows where the heating source comes from. I have some theories:

1. A direct pipeline to a North Sea oil rig.
2. A direct pipeline to the molten core of the Earth.
3. (And this one seems the most likely to me) a direct pipeline to hell itself. Because this is what it feels like.




But without all the flesh and carnal possibilities - this is a library, you know.

Meanwhile, at the bottom of Windermere, the hapless Joe McIntyre has drowned. It wasn't a great escape effort, was it? (And yet part of me thinks it might just be a viable alternative to working here.)

Poor old Joe. He really only ever had two facial expressions:
1. that of a wily and yet slightly stupid child, and
2. that of a man who had just wet his pants, was embarrassed to find himself suddenly warm and damp, and was wondering how to salvage the situation.

No salvaging the situation now; it's gone well beyond warm and damp. Now Joe is very, very wet and very, very cold and very dead.



Oh dear.