The mutterings of a rubber chicken

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Here's to the present

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I'm done. It's all over.

I never want to see that thesis again. Let me bury it in some dark corner of the room and forget about it.


So, I think it's appropriate to celebrate with friends and I'm feeling pretty darned generous right now.

The moon for Asha? The porsche for McKay's midlife crisis (when she's ready for one....)? Diamond head jewellery for Sookey? A gorilla for Tiptoe?

Oh, and I guess while I'm shopping, I might as well get us all one of those never-emptying ATM machines.

Yes, name what you will my friends. Money is no object.Particularly when you shop at Virtual Presents, the delight of all cheapskates everywhere.

Must keep this quiet from The Janitor or we know where he'll be doing his Christmas shopping.

Sunday, October 29, 2006

Al fresco

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In terms of gradual exposure therapy for acrophobics, I'd say this one is right off the scale!

At Dinner in the Sky in Belgium, 22 guests are seat-belted (phew!) into chairs that are connected to a dining table while a crane hoists them up to 50m. Chefs and waiters then present the meal from a pit in the middle of the table. The session can last for 8 hours.

Somehow I just lost my appetite...

Thursday, October 19, 2006


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4 working days to thesis due date. I think that about sums it up.

Am I finished? Hah. Am I nearly finished? Snicker.

Am I running around like a headless rubber chicken? BIG CHECK.

I'll be back soon. Please stop by again.

Sunday, October 08, 2006

Painting the town red

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Painting the town red.

That's my pathetic attempt to make my life seem exciting. I'm not fooling anybody, least of all myself.

In a brief break from the thesis (two more weeks and it's all over!!) and what am I doing? Out for a nice dinner? A decent movie? A Vichy shower and hot stone massage perhaps?

Nope. Nope and nope. I am painting a bedroom. From massaging pages of dreary text to watching paint dry.

Can life get any better?

I'm no Michelangelo either. When it come to painting style, think more of Jackson Pollack because paint tends to get sprayed and flicked in all directions.

Hey, maybe I should do that a little more. Might convince The Janitor that getting someone in to do this stuff makes a lot more sense, particularly as he himself is noticeable by his absence. Apparently, I do this stuff so much better.