almonds and moustaches

Talking of Christmas, did you know that crackers were introduced in Britain in the Victorian era by a confectioner who discovered a neat way to sell more sugared almonds? Unfortunately, the sugar coated nut has now been replaced by treasures such as tiny red plastic cars or something that looks like a black bat, which turns out to be a plastic moustache that you jam into your nostrils causing much traditional merriment around the meal table. I always wonder about the factory in China where this stuff is made. What do you suppose that the assembly line workers make of the 2 million moustaches that are turned out every day? I expect that they are told that the British are very strange people who love this worthless tat? If any of them should stumble across this blog (do they let you access the web in China?) I have to report that your information is, unfortunately, substantially correct!

The photo for this entry is Liverpool's Liver Building - a famous waterfront landmark. Do you like it? A Liverpudlian lady now living in Texas liked it - she liked it so much that she asked me to send her a print. I quoted her a very reasonable price which she happily accepted, and I posted the print over a year ago (I also included a 2nd, free, print). She promised me a cheque - I never received it. I emailed - she promised again - nothing! I emailed again, and again - she ignored me. My resolution for 2006 is to get my money. So, Vivian, if you are reading this I want you to know that I am not letting you get away with it. I admire the fact that you do charitable work with animals, but it's time to keep your promises with humans! (Watch this space for news of my campaign.)

I had a piece of good fortune a few days ago. I received £22 from the office lottery club. That's what we all received for contributing £1 a week for the last year. Come to think of it, maybe that doesn't qualify as good luck - it represents a loss of £30 over 52 weeks - that's almost 58p per week that Camelot have been sucking out of my wallet. Never mind, I expect that the Lottery Commission have passed it onto a worthy cause - perhaps it has helped to fund a lesbian arts workshop in Huddersfield, or a shedload of laptops for the Free Lithuanian Brotherhood Poetry and Writers Society.

My dentist's receptionist thinks that I'm a wonderful person. I called in to pay my bill and took back the copy of Private Eye that I'd 'borrowed' the week before - a crime which I confessed to in this blog. Far from bollocking me for theft, she was genuinely surprised that anyone would bother to return a magazine. Actually, she thought that I was a good guy anyway - you know how sometimes you can tell these things?