Whistling In The Klondike

Hm.

See? I told you I'd be back.

First off: matters of state, my state, my bathroom. Those dangly things that hang off most bathroom light pullcords? Attention people. Please only buy very lightweight ones. Ornate? Wooden? Curved wrought iron with studden polished stone inlay? Give it a miss. For a bathroom is a place of wofting towels and flung sweaters, and nothing, or very little, irks like a madly swinging pullswitch which bashes off the tiles, twats you in the eye, gets caught switches off and swings around in darkness as you grope blindly for a crazily ossillating plumb line. Please people, for the sake of sanity, install - I don't know- though switches or something.

Also, in good news I just finished (finally, I had to put in two concerted days of reading) The Algebraist by Iain M Banks, and jolly good it was too. His usually wash of a small happpening in a big place, something grand from a small point of view. Awesome as always, black humour placed as ever and confusing till the end. A quality read.

Finally, a word from work, I signed by contract today and became official slave to the wage of a certain stationary company as of 1st Jan 06, a cash friendly way to start the new year.

Word up.