recently on the turntable

the way of the vaselines
the vaselines

some assembly required
lazy

tomorrow

tomorrow is the annual general meeting for where i work. it will have ramifications for my job next year.

wish me luck

I wanted to update yesterday, but our keyboard was doing very weird things. For example, every "e" I tried to type, it would type, "3e" and every "t" it would type "4t" and every "u" it would type "6u". And that's not all. Whenever we tried to use the backspace key to delete said "3" or "4" or "6", some control panel thing would come up and ask if we wanted to change something somewhere.

I just know that these irregularities were caused by Matthew vomiting over the keyboard the day before. We have this really cool programme called "baby keys". When you run it, every time you touch any key on the keyboard, a new picture comes up on screen and a new sound plays. He loves it. He sits on my knee, his little hands pounding at the keyboard, his head tilted up to watch the changing pictures. Unfortunately he got a bit over-excited the other day and brought up his pureed squash on the keyboard.

Anyway, that keyboard is now defunct and I've had to resort to bringing one home from work to use.

We had a murder in the house yesterday morning.

When I got up, on the kitchen floor, in a dried pool of blood, there was some bones, a few squishy internal organs, and some bits of feather, or skin, or something. The forensic examination was, unfortunately, unable to determine exactly what kind of animal had been killed.

There were five suspects - myself, Deb, Matthew, Tess and Gump. I knew I hadn't done it, so that left four. I accepted Debbie's alibi that she'd spent the night in bed - with me. Matthew didn't have a confirmable alibi, but then again, once in his cot, he can't actually get out of it. He can flap his arms and wail, but he can't move as such. I gave him the benefit of the doubt.

Tess and Gump were both asleep in the living room. Neither of them cracked under the subsequent interrogation. Actually neither of them stayed still in one spot long enough for me to interrogate them, or, in fact, gave any sign that they knew I was talking to them.

Suspiciously, neither of them ate much breakfast that morning.

I know what you're thinking. A Gump killing. And indeed it had many of the hallmarks of her work. Principally the lack of identifiable body parts.

However, I finally concluded that it was Tess. See, she slipped up after the crime. We had just washed some white cotton nappies. They were neatly folded on the chair. She had slept on them immediately after the killing. They had bloodstains on them.

The psychologists are going to have field day with this. Black and white cat callously commits murder, then tries to absolve itself by sleeping on white nappies.

The whole scenario just begs for deconstruction.

Black and white cat. A duality of nature.

Babies - the purest symbol we have, and a murder - the ultimate act.

And nappies, clean and white and fresh, used on babies, yet holding their waste.

Hmmmmmmm, the murderer has just come sit on my lap. She's purring. She's very cute. She's just rubbed her nose against mine.

She's forgiven.