Butternuts.

The vast majority of my guests over the past month have arrived here by virtue of a link to a rather ridiculous picture I made a couple of years ago. I didn't actually publish it at the time but all of a sudden I seem, for my visitor numbers at least, to be under something of a deluge. Of weirdos. Even weirder ones than usual.

Anyway, if you have arrived here wondering what kind of person links to pictures of late middle-aged German men with unfeasibly large members of the squash family protruding from their trousers in an utterly hilarious fashion expecting more of the same, I hope you're incredibly disappointed. Welcome all the same. You're probably a perv so may even get off on the anti-climax. See it as punishment and enjoy. But before you go, at least click on a google ad and make me rich. I could do with the funds.

Blogger is messing me about. That picture should appear below but I cannot move it for the life of me. I'm really getting fed up now. Yesterday I spent all day waiting in for Brian from the housing to come and replace a window. I had a letter from the housing telling me Brian would turn up yesterday. When I called them at 4pm they had no knowledge saying that Brian was due on the 17th of September. That was the date of the letter from you telling me Brian was coming on the 29th I told them, and the day that Brian originally came to inspect it and take measurements. He did his bit pretty sharpish didn't he, I hazarded. Oh. We've er...sorry. Bugger. 2nd October OK?

I also had another letter dated 17th September from the housing that arrived the same day as the other one. In a different envelope. This one told me that Miserable Brummie Bob would be coming round to replace my broken central heating timer. That would be today sometime. Alarm bells were ringing. Miserable Brummie Bob only lives round the corner, loike, and he'd already told me that he would make me first on his list, loike, when he did my gas inspection way back in April. He actually forgot to report it, loike, but that's par for the course. Suspecting something untoward was going to occur, I got my pre-emptive strike in at 9am. Miserable Brummie Bob is meant to be replacing my timer today but after the farce of yesterday, I thought I'd better check (I could have asked yesterday but gas and general repairs are separate companies. You know, cost savings) . Ah...let me phone Miserable Brummie Bob and check. I'll call you back. Ring! You're not on Miserable's list. In fact you're nowhere. Oh. We've er...again. Sorry. We'll get back to you. What was that about stupid vegetables?