I was watching the television last night when there was a trailer for My Family, the BBC sitcom with Richard ("Citizen Smith") Lindsay and Zoe Wanamaker.
They were playing your typical middle-aged middle class BBC sitcom couple. One of the characters said to the other "I can't even break wind without him knowing about it." Or something or other. I don't remember the exact details.
But I thought, 'break wind'? Does anyone actually use the phrase 'break wind' except people in BBC sitcoms? I did once meet someone who used the expression in ordinary conversation. But he was a younger son of a member of the House of Lords (I mix in exalted circles, me) and therefore hopelessly effete by definition.
Or am I just hopelessly common, along with most of my friends?
Oh, I've been pinged. By Cormac at Plastic Cat. Click on the Trackback thing at the end of the last entry to see what I mean. I'm not sure exactly what the point of this is, unless to allow Movable Type users to pat each other on the back, so to speak, but it's worth trying.
In other news, I am getting a bit annoyed with Greymatter already. Not only does it now allow you to create multiple blogs, it also does not seem to allow you to edit your archive pages, which Movable Type does let you do.
To see what I mean, click on any of the archive links at the right of this page. It should open one of the entries here in a new page - which has been designed by me to fit in with the overall branding of the site (part of my plan for World Domination, by the way). But the other weblog I am working on cannot do this, running it on Greymatter, won't let you do this. Grrr. The basic site looks lovely but the archive pages (or some, but not others) look like something the dog designed. On an off day.
See, this is what I mean. This page ought to look nicely designed. If it doesn't, it means either I'm attempting the impossible or I've got a lot of work to do. Sigh ...
Enough with the glue, already!
I have just been checking my stats at the old site at life as it happens and I have still been getting lots of hits. However, 95% of them are from Google, looking for information about the H*undai advertisement, trying to find out where the song I'm St*cking With You comes from.
I'm happy to get lots of hits, and every time the ad is shown there's a surge, but I'm beginning to get tired of this now, okay?
It was a strange feeling, walking back into the house.
Some of the clothes on the hooks in the hallway were not mine; a child's toys, a few toy cars, stood in the corner. A cigarette stub crushed in an ashtray, bottles in the bathroom. My place, yet not quite my place, and yet empty.
Except for me. Susanne and Philipp have gone back to Ireland for a few days to settle up some last things before the summer, and before they come back and Philipp starts school and they settle here for good.
So I am by myself again, for the first time in two months, free to work late into the night and free to wake up next morning, alone.
It's a strange feeling. It's strange how quickly you become accustomed to the presence of others.
So I have updated the design here. I hope it makes blogging easier.
The first official appearance of the Soldier Fish logo, you know.
I haven't yet managed to get the templates to work as I like, so this design will change in various ways. But this is pretty much how the main site will look.
Soon, I will be introducing elements of the new site, such as the photo gallery, and One Bite At A Time, my new serious political site.
What else? I don't know. It's late and there is chocolate ice cream in the house.
So we went to Brighton. It was sunny and it seemed a good idea.
We walked along the seafront and stopped to eat cockles and prawns from a vendor who, clearly, was able to run a whelk stall. I failed to persuade Susanne to eat Jellied Eels, though.
But we ended up on Brighton Pier eating candy floss (made entirely of sugar) and buying fudge (made mostly of sugar) and Brighton Rock (made entirely of sugar).
We sat on the pebbled beach and watched the sun setting. We got home late and tired, but happy.
