He's done another good job of explaining (albeit breifly) the term "Do you do discount". Quite rightly he didn't spend too much time on it either. I was just wondering if Si knows that as British law currently stands it's within each of our rights to offer whatever we like for an item for sale. That's right - that "regular" is not doing anything wrong when offering 90p for what is clearly not worth 99p. I can just see it now...
Customer: "Hello good sir. Tis an afternoon of glorious proportions" Si: "Ah, fine day to you good customer! - Please, how may I help you?" Customer: "I see here that you have listed this delightful air freshener; shaped almost exactly like a Christmas tree; at a bargain price of just 99p" Si: "Yes; indeed that particular item is very popular and will make your car smell almost like the very tree it represents!" Customer: "Under currant British law I would like to offer you the very reasonable price of 90p" Si: "I see... how about Fu..."
You can see what I mean. Not any self respecting buisness man IS going to take less for a priced item - unless it's EBay - but that's another story. But Mr. Regular is still going to try it on! Bless 'em.
I also like his note on the headers... ah many a time have Si and I struggled over an easy job - with a part clearly not going to fit. Mainly by the car's manufacturer! But each time - with anewed enthusiasm - we jump headfirst in to the job at hand, hopeful that "this time, it'll work fine!"
And finally I can relate on his 2F2F comments... if the car's shape matches that of said 4 banger's target, a race (on his own most likely) does persue. It's funny that you rarely see a Ferrari 355 driver sat at the lights revving the nuts of his car next to a diesel Golf - but if that diesel Golf were next to a pumped up (insert Saxo/Nova/etc) then he'd be revved at! Happens to me a lot...
I write this as night becomes morning... one day finishes, another begins.
I remember being young. Each day took many times longer to get through - each an unknown quantity. I distinctly remember the very early dark mornings with my parents leaving for various places of work. In a twilight of night where neither my brain nor my alarm clock were awake. I used to like those mornings - everything was quiet and I was snug.
Now of course, each day is a blur. The weeks I almost wish away so that I may spend the weekends with Gemma. I do not regret this - my weeks are full and busy. Whether I want them to pass quickly or not is no longer up to me.
Now I cherish these nights. The precious few hours between work and sleep. I kid myself I can go longer and longer without sleep but on waking in the AM I always realise my mistake - yet I'm happy to make it the following night.
Earlier this evening an image sparked a memory of shopping as a child. I remember the location but not the date, nor even the time of year - though I suspect it was over the Christmas period. I was walking up a stair case in Allders in Portsmouth - I'm sure some other family members were there yet I cannot remember who. I looked out the window toward the fountain and shopping precinct. I'm not sure what I was looking at at the time but I do remember that I did not really have any idea of where we were in comparison to home. I did know the journey was long and arduous - and at least one large monster was vanquished on the way.
Funny things, those memories. Could be miles off but that's what's in my head.
Maybe my fellow peers all having children of their own is sparking my inner child - perhaps it's the beginnings of senality... heh...
It's likely just the media. Clever buggers. A new mini-series (now a fully fledged one) of BattleStar Galactica was on Sky tonight. I can remember seeing that first time round!
My point? Didn't say I had one.
To quote Grandpa Simpson: 'The important thing, was that I was wearing an onion on my belt - which was the style of the time....Zzzzzz"
I've just finished Patricia Cornwell's 'Post Mortem'
And I've just started 'Body Of Evidence'
I must admit that they are surprising me. I had heard a lot about them but never really warmed to the idea of novels based on forensic medicine. However, recently with series such as CSI catching my eye I thought I'd give them a go.
The first took me around 6 hours to eat. So I'm quite happy to keep on munching. Very very clever writing.
I'm not one to get ill very often.
So as you can imagine, when I do - however insignificant it is - I'm not great at handling it.
I think I'm getting a cold. I have the sore throat, I can't hear too well and I've had a couple of headaches. To me - I'm ill. But I'm also stubborn so I'll carry on until I can no longer do so. I'll even go to the gym.
But this gets me to thinking - what do other people call "ill"?
I imagine there are a lot of souls that put up with common cold symptons daily and it has nothing to do with a cold. So that's why I keep going; because I'm quite lucky in that I don't get "ILL". Illness rarely owns me.
And before you think it - yes I know being at work allows others to catch my illness (however small). I can spread the cold as well as the love.