Being Mr. Kenny

OK, this isn’t really all that worthy of being called “Breaking News”, but I just called someone, and as I typed their phone number, I swear to you, the key tones played “Mary had a little lamb”.

Does anyone else remember all the way back to their French GCSE listening exam? I don’t remember the board, unfortunately, but I do recall that just before they got into all the questions, there was a woman saying,

You will now hear a short conversation, in Frunch, to introduce you to the Frunch voices.

Did anyone else notice that, anyone at all?

Update: I made a sound recording of what it might have sounded like.

It is, perhaps, the height of naïvety to expect that when they announce the last series of Will and Grace, they mean it is forever to vanish from our screens.

Alas, no.

In truth, it means we are to be subjected to its witless charms in the form of endless repeats. For shame. For shame!

Everyone knows this phrase, but do people remember when it actually happened? You know, when there actually was a bull wreaking havoc in a china shop?

It was a few years back, and it made the news. I remember the news readers practically falling over themselves in their enthusiasm to impress upon us the fact that a saying had actually come true. It was the ultimate “And finally…” after all the usual misery and bad news.

Anyway, my favourite bit was the fact that, despite the jollity and, oh isn’t it hilarious, they had to look sad right at the end because it turned out the bull had had to be shot because it was a danger to the public.

It was like finding out that there had been a dead mouse at the bottom of a packet of cornflakes you’d been eating all week. You could see it in the presenters’ eyes: Oh, the bad jokes that could have been!

I found the BBC News report for the incident: Clear up after bull rampage.

From time to time, my mouse pointer just moves across the screen of its own accord. What is it with me and input devices? I just have a bad history with input devices. I really do.

Anyway, this is my mouse pointer. I love it, it’s so easy to see. I’m never going back.

The office where I work is situated in a building complex in which there are a number of other businesses. We frequently get mail that belongs to one of these other businesses, and have to send it back to the Post Office to be re-delivered. We could pop it through their letterboxes ourselves, I suppose, but it’s much easier just to chuck it in a little box and let the postman take it away at the end of the day. This way, at least, we’re helping Royal Mail learn from its mistakes.

On the lower level of the bulding there is also a public toilet, and this morning I had the pleasure of receiving a piece of post addressed to “Public Conveniences”. There was no “care of”, or FAO, or anything like that — it was just “Public Coveniences” and the street name. I’m left wondering who sent this letter, and whether or not they really thought about what they were doing. No doubt it was printed out by a computer, but really, someone must have at least hesitated as they entered “Public Conveniences” into the addressee field.