In sssshort

This is for Bruski...


Amsterdam woman finds snake in toilet

A woman living in Central Amsterdam got the shock of her life on Wednesday morning when she lifted the lif of the toilet in her home, to find a 50cm brown and orange snake, The Parool reports.

The snake, which was still in the toilet after she returned from alerting the police, is thought to be a corn snake, which is not poisonous. Cornsnakes are common in the US and it is a complete mystery how it ended up in a city centre flat, The Parool says.

The reaction from my colleagues was great. Especially as they recognised the snake to be the same that I was holding in one of my profile pictures.

Don't get me started

I have a problem. It's one that other people won't and don't share... it's that bad.

I feel contrite simply thinking about typing it.

It's more than an addiction. It's not a fad. It's not something I'm likely to grow out of. In fact, it can only get worse. Mills has tried to control me, out of love and concern, but he has realised that It is bigger than him. He has called for support, he has tried to reason. It is financially draining, it is not easy to procure, but when I do get It, it's good.

So good.

So good, that I feel ashamed.

My closest friends and family know about It. I've told them about my compulsion and they've seen it for themselves. It's not pretty. They try to make light of the situation, but I know they discuss it behind my back. I can see their supportive smiles that quiver ever so slightly at the corners of their mouths, out of concern - and a little bit of mirth.

It is Tupperware. There, I said it. It's out. Go ahead, judge me. From some of the reactions I receive, I think prostituting myself in the Red Light District would be more socially acceptable.

I love Tupperware. I am as far from a Domestic Treasure as you are likely to get, never knew the 1950s Good Housewife regulations, and yet I still love Tupperware. Please don't insult me by thinking about Euro-buster mass-produced soft containers that melt and buckle and stain after three weeks... I am not talking about the plastic shit you get off the Pick 'n Pay bottom shelf.

I'm talking about name-brand 30-euros-a-piece high-class plastic. Yes, it's bad. Even when people keel over, derisively clutching their throats as they choke on the very thought of spending so much on 'a piece of plastic', I find myself earnestly justifying the expense...

I mean come on people, there isn't a mother out there who doesn't still use that Tupperware container/mixer/baking bowl that was first purchased when you were in diapers. You know it's true. Tupperware lasts.

And it's (largely) unbreakable. I don't care if you have to sit through a Tupperware demonstration to get it. It's worth it.

Sigh.

I told you not to let me get started.

I'm back

Last week: my new manager mentioned that she had heard vicious rumours about me being a chaotic whirlwind of distruction. But as yet, I haven't broken anything at my new office. Why is that - she asked me, slightly nervously.

My theory, I explained, is that I concentrate in new surroundings. But don't worry - in a few weeks time I'll be smashing shelves with a glance.

The next day: I fell down a flight of stairs.
The day after: I broke a glass in the kitchen.

Then, this evening, at home: I was on the phone to my brother when my mobile rang - this was urgent, I explained to Bruski, as I was expecting a call from my Tupperware rep.

Without ending his call, I held the cordless (landline) away from my ear and picked up the mobi with my other hand. Multitasking = me.

Discussed drop-off logistics and payment with Tupperware rep. As I'd paid by bank transfer, I promised to check that my monthly earnings had gone through to her account. I put down the mobi phone and picked up the other. The line was dead. No tone at all.

That was when I realised that I had terminated both my mobile and landline calls and was now trying to talk into my bank card reader. It has digits on it and options to clear and/or OK a numerical selection, so it was a mistake easily made I think. Still, a serious backfire in the co-ord department nonetheless.

I called Bruski again, to apologise for mild brain fart. His first line when he answered was - "I know this is going to be good."

It was.

Koekie is back.

A little Sunday snippet

I've always maintained that there is a definite possibility that a few rugger-buggers might like a grope in the scrum. I think these New Zealander students have helped to strengthen my argument.

How many hockey/football/tennis players would be prepared to play their respective sport in this condition?