Writing about web page http://www.richard-williamson.com
I also heard this website is rubbish.
Writing about web page http://www.radio.warwick.ac.uk
Ok, here's a quick plug (and why not). Our radio show is on every saturday morning from 9am. And it's brilliant. And I know you won't be doing anything else at that time.
'Right', I said to myself, 'Time for spring cleaning'. And indeed it was. Because although it was nowhere near spring, our bathroom was, well, a little mouldy. And since I had nothing better to do (coursework doesn't count), and knowing I'd not get another chance until term finished, I decided to face… THE BATHROOM OF DOOM.
I took down the shower curtain (N.B this is not actually a shower curtain but a piece of tarpaulin. It loses only a smidge of aesthetic appeal but no doubt saves our landlord all of £5). This went into the washing machine in an attempt to rid years of collected shower gel (which was some fairly unnatural colours, even for shower gel).
Then off to the Co-op for some rubber gloves, since there are things in that room that I'm not going anywhere near with bare hands. I have to make do with Iceland since Co-op is obviously too good to be open on a Bank Holiday. But I do manage to buy some cheap chicken nuggets at the same time.
Back home, I delve into the back of my wardrobe and find some toilet duck my mum sent me back in September. This is clearly going to be one of my allies in the war on dirt. I go in with a plastic bag and pick up all used toilet rolls, empty toothpaste tubes and things I'm not sure what they are from the floor. Applying copious amounts of 'bathroom cream' to every available surface, the chemical smell soon makes me feel queesy, but I persevere. About 1 hour of hard scrubbing, and one sore back later, I stand back to admire the transformation.
Except, there isn't one. No amount of scrubbing could have removed those years of grit from the plughole. There is still mould on the walls. There is still dirt ingrained on the surfaces, except now it's shiny dirt. No amount of work could make this look better. I'm wondering why I didn't just let it fester a little longer and get Kim and Aggie in. Mabye they'd even pay us for that.
'Never mind', I think, as I go downstairs to the washing machine. At least the shower curtain will be clean. Except I discover, to my horror, that those 'years of collected shower gel' have turned into bubbles, thousands of bubbles, so many bubbles they couldn't all be contained. Oh well, at least the Kitchen floor will be clean.
Writing about web page http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=8309084493
Why does nothing on the internet work? I just spent fifteen minutes trying to convince paypal that I actually do own a debit card, and that I had got the number right, in the end I just gave up and used the details from a card that expired in September and it all worked.
So the russian army hat is now wending it's way to Fred via that trusted, old-fasioned method of Royal Mail (it should be there by Christmas, I imagine).
But it was then that I saw some other objects the Russian dude was selling – including Russian wives! Which surely is slightly wrong, and just a little disturbing. Anyway, check it out for yourself.
Aren't potatoes brilliant? They really are, and you can't go wrong with potatoes. You can microwave them, boil them, bake them, fry them. In fact there isn't a lot you can't do without them. You can have them raw, with garlic, with cheese, with anything. They're fantastic! And really cheap!
In fact, potatoes are so brilliant, I wrote an ode to them. It goes like this…
_Potatoes, the fruit that's really swell
Make up chips and crisps aswell
Come in many different flavours
Potatoes really are a saviour;
When all the eggs and onion's out
There'll be a tattie lying about:
Boil it, bake it, toil to make it
Mash it to and fro
Serve it up and scoff it down
The humble potato!_
(Note the use of artistic liscence – potatoes aren't really fruit!)
And here is Fred's contribution:
_I like potatoes
The P, the O, the tate
Something something something
Potatoes are really great_
Maybe we should write a musical…
Don't get me wrong, this isn't about toasters in general, i find these fantastic inventions. Why, we'd have no toast if it wasn't for toasters And then where would we be? Well, I'd be without any breakfast for a start.
My niggle – and that's all it is, a niggle, is that the toaster in our kitchen cannot make normal toast. It either undercooks it or seriously burns it. There's no in-between stage; it just goes straight from bread to charcoal. Surely it's not that hard?
Anyway, until something's done I'll have to use the grill…
On to day 3, and I'm realising that I really do have lots to rant about. So much so, in fact, that today it's a double-whammy of a rant because I'm feeling extra bulshy. Which I'll allow, becuase it's my blog. When you get a blog, you can make the rules.
Anyway, so today it's the cleaners. It might just be because my room is next door to the office for, like, all of cryfield, but I've asked other people and it's not just me. They turn up at eight in the morning, and yell at each other down the corridors. And bearing in mind the walls here are made from, like, paper, the shouts of "Hi Stacey, y'alright!?" can be heard quite loudly. Is it so hard to talk in a quiet voice and leave us to sleep? I think not. And it's not even as though they're particularly understanding; we get thrown out of the kitchen whilst cooking so they can clean it and then they throw your NME away because you accidently left it on the table. And they've all got walkie talkies with top-secret codenames. What's that all about? Come on guys, you're not secret agents.
And on the subject of horrible noises, what's up with the fire alarm? Possibly the most ghastly noise ever. A piercing shrill that makes my toes curl. Horrible. And then they test it at random times, like half seven, for just long enough for you to stumble out of bed, put on a dressing gown and get half out the door before they turn it off. How hard can it be to let us know they're about to test them? Then maybe we can stick something in our ears, or leave altogether.
And that is today's rant
I guess I don't actually have anything against this game (although it's got nothing on freecell), it's just that I feel I might be a little more productive without it. It would be okay if you could play just one game, but it doesn't work like that. Either you lose and feel like you have to play again, or you win but feel so let down by the crappy (let's face it, very crappy) fireworks that you need another go to satisfy the solitaire urge.
Or is it just me?
Anyway, not in a ranting mood, just want to get this work done!