Pointless random question of the day:

What is the point of coloured tissues?

Not decorative tissue boxes, no -- they're fine, if still a little pointless -- but coloured tissues themselves.

Does anyone really care what colour their snot rags are? Is it really worth the extra processing involved to have pretty tissues?

Yet another thing in the long list of things I don't get...

----------

Sorry, folks. Busy day today, and this'll have to be short if I'm going to get a chance to have any lunch.

And I'm definitely going to have lunch.

Catch you later.

Title? I need a title now?

Sorry. I sometimes get a little tired of being told what to do by all those blanks that seem to need to be filled in.

And yes, I realise that I technically don't need a title.

I do, however, need even a slight topic if I'm going to pretend to blather. Nothing so far, so I'll start with a thanks and see if that takes me somewhere.

Thanks, Blogger, for adding what appears at first glance to be a reasonably effect spam filter to your comment function. As my two fans know, I don't have a computer at home. That means that I don't see my comment tracking mail until I'm actually at a place that has a computer (generally here at work or at my father's place). On occasion in the past, that's meant that it's been a couple of days before I've noticed the lost Chinese people or those helpful folks who would like me to enlarge my package (I have a package? Of what, exactly?). Sometimes the Ontario office has caught stuff here before I've got to it, but she doesn't track the other blog.

Apparently Blogger does now, which is cool.

Weird at the same time, though, when you've temporarily forgotten that there's a new spam filter.

It's ever so slightly twilight-zonish to see something in your tracking mail, roll your eyes, go to the blog to remove it, AND THERE'S NOTHING THERE.




Um, yeah. Now that you mention it, I was on morning brain at the time.

And for those of you who are new to the program, yes, it's true that I don't have a computer at home. I'm not against them in theory and I'm not a Luddite; I just don't see the need for one at home when I have plenty of access elsewhere. And surprising as it may seem to some of you out there, sometimes it's really nice to know that there's a time of the day when you won't be tempted to check e-mails or watch stupid videos. Well, at least on the computer. I watch plenty of stupid videos on my television.

And yes, I do have a television.

Dammit. I just dripped tea on my work shirt. Stupid travel mug that's not my trusty old desk cup...



Ah well. That's probably a sign from the tea &/or travel mug gods that it's time to stop randomly blathering and get back to work. Yay me for almost turning this into a post after all.

Chapter 1199: Wherein Dee has a headache

What can I say? I do.

I woke up with one.

I hate that.



Can you tell yet that I'm not in the mood to blather? I really should be having something to eat, anyway. I barely manged a bowl of cereal this morning because my stupid head was telling my stupid stomach that eating would be stupid.

I hate that, too.

I'm... going now, I think. Otherwise things will just continue being stupid and hateable around here...

Write what?

I'll try to keep this short, since I'm at work. Incidentally, when I start out a blather like that it usually means it won't be short at all.

Anyway.

Yesterday I said that I thought it was a good thing that so many people are writing now as compared to a century or two ago. Today I'd like to add that just because I'm glad that people are writing doesn't mean I have to like what they're writing.

Case in point? Fan fiction.

As I've said before, I really don't get fanfic. I know that it's pretty popular in some circles and I've heard that some of it is quite good, but I don't get it. I don't get the why of it.

I also don't read it. Yeah, I'll admit that up front. The closest I've ever come to reading fanfic is the occasional Star Trek novel when I was a teenager. Not something I especially brag about, no, but I did read a few of them. I don't think I got the why of them either, though.

It probably has something to do with the way I watch television shows. I generally don't find myself needing a continuation, I guess. If a show's well done, I'm happy with the show. If I'm left feeling lacking after the show, I'll assume that either the show wasn't all that good or it wasn't to my taste. The end. No elaboration needed. Do I wonder what the characters are doing in the times we're not seeing them on-screen? Well, no. Not really. I'm more or less willing to go with what the makers of the thing have decided to show us. And if that doesn't satisfy me? I find something else to watch. I suppose I just don't have the need to complete things in a more satisfactory way for myself. Maybe I'm not a closure-type person, I don't know.

For the most part I don't care about fanfic since it's a world I don't feel the need to inhabit, but one thing about it puzzles me. In my time lurking around television show forums, I've noticed that some of the most vocal dissatisfied viewers seem to be the same people who are heavily involved in fanfic. It's like (well, in some cases at least) they've invested so much into their world of this-is-how-it-should-go that they have a really hard time dealing with things when that isn't how it goes. Sometimes it even sounds like they're terribly insulted when the actual show goes in a different direction than the fan stories were taking it.

I so very much don't get that.

I like a show, I watch it. I don't like a show, I stop. That's about as invested as I get.

Maybe that word invested is the key. I don't get terribly invested in television. It's just tv. It's not life. The people I'm watching are actors, not my buddies. I don't have tv boyfriends, so I guess that precludes me from being overly worried about what happens to them. Do I enjoy television shows? Of course, but I'm happy to let the creative types take me for a ride without wishing we were using a different road. Or a different car. Or a different driver. And if I start wishing for different, well... there are other shows and other channels, right?

Obviously if it were that simple for everyone, fanfic wouldn't exist. It does. To some of you, then, I'm the one who's missing out on something that may even be worth reading.

That's ok. If you knew what I'm currently finding worth reading, you'd probably be the first to say that some things are just worth not getting...

Say what?

This blog looks interesting. And yes, I'm adding the link more for my own reference than anything else.

It's no secret that language interests me. Language history interests me; language structure interests me.

Language rules? Not so much, unless they're trying to describe how a language actually works. Prescriptive (or, as they so often seem, proscriptive) rules do nothing for me, because they can so easily just be someone's idea of how a language should work as opposed to what's really going on.

I've said it before, but languages are as organic as the organisms that use them. Language has to adapt to situation. Situations change, and if language doesn't change as well then it's no longer suitable. And that equals dead language, folks. Overly rigid language rules that may have applied to a language three hundred years ago likely aren't doing much to explain how the language is working now, and if it's insisted that those rules should still be followed to the letter the only result is a bizarre museum piece that has almost nothing to do with reality.

Yeah, I get tired of hearing that our language has already chosen its handbasket.

I could go off on that particular rant for several (probably pretty boring) pages, but it got me thinking about a side-rant today. Well, maybe not so much a rant as an explanation. It's voice, you see. Formality in language. People who complain that our language isn't following the rules anymore are often complaining about the voice used rather than the language itself. Sometimes they see an appalling lack of formality in our (general "our", there) writing these days.

Well, no kidding.

Call it mass media, call it web 2.0 (which, by the way... could that phrase please go away?), call it whatever, but more people are writing now than a few centuries ago. More people, more backgrounds; it only makes sense that things in the writing world are loosening up. It's vox populi, boys and girls. Voice of the people. Vulgar Latin rather than Classical, if you want to think of it that way (which you probably don't. I realise that I'm rapidly headed to full-on nerd here).

And personally, I'm for it.

Oh sure, there are contexts where more formality is expected. If I'm reading a scientific paper I want it in clear, unambiguous, school-ish language (although even that's relaxed a fair bit since I was in university). If I'm reading something from a respected press agency rather than a casual blogger I'm not going to want tweet-speak.

Um, come to think of it, even when I tweet I don't tend to use tweet-speak. Just feels a bit odd to me, that's all. And besides, I tweet as a part of my job. I need to be a little more formal because of that, I think.

It may surprise some of my two fans, but I've made some pretty deliberate choices about the way I speak on this blog. I know I use um and well far too much. I know I make up stupid words sometimes. I know that my grammar isn't perfect, although I do try to make it readable. The fact is, I'm perfectly capable of writing in anal-retentive English that would probably meet all the standards of the Rule Bosses.

Why would I want to? And even more importantly, why would anyone read that?




Not that I really understand why anyone reads this as it stands, of course...

I suppose what I'm trying to say here (or at least part of what I'm trying to say here) is that I wish people would consider the context before they complain. Oh, and maybe if the complainy-types would stop for a moment and listen to the general music of the writing rather than picking out all the wrong notes, they might get more of an appreciation for the fact that so many people are taking the time to sing at all.

Or something.

Bear in mind that this is all off the top of my only-partially-working head. And speaking of work, back to it for me now.

Sigh

I'm beat, boys and girls.

Exhausted.

The current version of me catching stuff from schoolchildren has totally wiped me out. It's just a cold, but I can't remember a simple cold making me so completely tired before.

It's kind of weird, really.

And it doesn't agree too well with blogging. Hard to have much to say (even when the "say" is only pointless blather) when all you really want to do is go back to bed.

And with that, I should probably get back to work anyway. Nothing to say, no time to say it in... Gee, this place is fun lately.

Ah well. We'll try it again tomorrow.

Pointless excuse of the day:

Sorry, but I've been too busy to blog today.

And also, my computer is apparently fighting with my nerdstick (or at least they're not talking), so there won't even be a pointless photo.

As well, I may or may not be in tomorrow, so that means I may or may not blather tomorrow.




This has been fascinating, hasn't it? Yeah. Later, all.

Arrrr

Aye, mateys. 'Tis the day again. A pity the blasted thing fell on Sunday this year so Wheat and I won't be after makin' any lubbers walk the plank...

Ah, just as well. I don't have the head for it at the moment anyway. It'd just end up me sitting sadly in the corner arrring to myself and wondering why nobody brought any grog.

----------

Today's pointless photo is not of a pirate (I'm sure you noticed that on your own). It's a hoverfly. A bee/wasp mimic. They're cool.

Literally, at the moment. I was surprised to find these out at all on Friday. Nothing much else of the invertebrate variety was moving around.

I kind of feel like I shouldn't be, either. Yep, the dragginess continues... not that it was helped at all by Max deciding he needed attention at two in the morning. He'd been a lot better about that lately, and I guess I was hoping he'd gotten out of the habit. No such luck, sadly for me. Ah well. It's not like I'm not used to having interrupted sleep at this point.

And speaking of points, I really don't have one today. I mean, I know I rarely have much for points anyway (thus the blog's name, right?), but just now the brain is empty. I made a feeble attempt at doing some drawing this morning, and it feels like even that has done it for my energy. Normally I'd guilt myself into blathering despite that, especially since weekends seem to be the only time I have anymore for having thoughts (or lack of same) at length, but today I think it might be better use of my time to get some lunch and then head back to my place while I still have any sort of energy/interest/enthusiasm for driving left.

Ok then. See you later.





arrrrrr...

I feel like one gigantic whinge

Photo? Pointless. As usual. And with the heavy frosts we've had the past couple of days, expect a lot more of that. It's been a pretty bad year for my style of pointless garden photography, let me tell you.

Anyway.

As the somewhat not pointless title says, I feel like a gigantic whinge. Not like having a gigantic whinge, no -- I feel like a gigantic whinge. As if I myself were nothing but a whinge.

If I were a sound effect today I'd be sort of a pathetic moan.

And what's got me all whingy? Oh, just lots of little things. Nothing that deserves a bunch of complaining on its own, but put all together you get... oh geez, let's just use the phrase pathetic moan again. Wah wah wah. Sorry, but even I'm put out by my attitude at the moment.

Want an example? Well, here's one. In the past couple of days I've slept more than I usually sleep in a week. That should be a good thing, right? Insomniacs around the world rejoice (or are miffed) that one of their own has finally figured out the magic of sleep. Here's the thing, though. I haven't. I'm sleeping because I've picked up yet another bug and it's making me very draggy. Cue pathetic moan oh-woe-is-me here... except that dammit, I'm actually sleeping. Get over yourself already, Dee. If the worst thing that comes out of this is a little congestion and a lot of sleep, you're a pretty lucky woman overall.

I do have one thing that's a little harder to talk myself out of, though, just because it's the return of an ongoing rest-of-my-life problem. My stupid ankle's shifted again, and it's not making walking especially pleasant. I get up in the morning and it feels like I'm balancing myself on a fairly painful peg leg, and then when that finally works itself out I spend the rest of my day with cramps in the calf muscle that's trying too hard to hold everything together.

I have a massive calf muscle from years of this crap, boys and girls. And, sadly, only on the one side. Makes it look like I only ever exercise the one leg, unfortunately.

Ah well, what can you do? It just gets me a little down that I'm always going to be dealing with this, that's all. There's always going to be pain (although it's admittedly livable pain. There are plenty of people who have it far, far worse than I ever will), there are always going to be days when I don't feel like moving, and there are going to be times when I feel like nothing more than a giant, self-pitying whinge.




Um, yay me?

Not so much. Get a grip already, stupid woman, and get on with things.




Either that or just go back to bed while your body still remembers what sleep is supposed to be about...

Pointless photo of the day:

As promised, a different view of the same lily.

And as far as anything else, I really don't think you need me to blather at the moment.

No, really. You don't.

I'll aim to be more blatherful on the weekend.

What the hell was that about?

Not a lot to say today because I have work that needs getting to (and I promise that I'll post a proper view of this lily at some point. It was pretty), but I did want to mention this:

If you're not a napper (and I'm reeeally not a napper. Wish I was, but apparently my brain disagrees with it in principle), waking up from an unexpected nap is the MOST DISORIENTING THING IN THE WORLD.

Yesterday (for a few reasons) I was massively tired when I got home from work. Cold, too, since I'd been outside in the crappy weather pretty much all day. I was intending to get something to eat right away since I hadn't had a proper lunch, but instead I sat down for a moment with a quilt... and half an hour later I was missing half an hour of my life.

Seriously. That's what it feels like when you don't usually nap.

Hey, obviously I needed to. I'm not arguing with that. But waking up not knowing what in the you-know just happened? Not as pleasant as a person might think.

Anyway.

Still feeling kind of draggy at the moment so no doubt you'll be hearing in a day or two what annoying little bug I've managed to pick up from the returning schoolchildren. Um, consider that a warning. As for me, I'll be busy preparing the usual why do I always have to catch every damned thing that's going around? whinge, just in case.

Yep, things are pretty much back to normal around here...

Pointless photo of the day:

Tired. Long day. Going home.

Done now.

Placeholder title

Today's pointless photo is of two cats on a bed.

Just so you know.

Incidentally, does anyone else's cat go sort of catnip-style nuts for the scent of bleach? Yeah, I thought not. Told you you were weird, Penny.

----------

Today's topic? I'm not sure there is one. I put the post title up just as a placeholder (um, thus the word "placeholder"...) while I uploaded the photo and tried to think of something to blather about.

Maybe placeholders themselves are slightly blatherable? I'm not sure, but why don't we give it a try.

It's fairly common practice in publishing to use placeholder text while the real thing is being prepared, but it sometimes leads to interesting consequences when someone forgets to replace the placeholder. One of my favourites (I think it was from one of Richard Lederer's books, if I'm remembering right) is when a newspaper had to print an apology when the placeholder text was inadvertently left as the caption for a person's photo. And the text was? Dummy head. As in, not the real head(er). Unfortunate term in that case, though.

Somewhat off-topic: I can see how that placeholder would have been missed, especially in the newspaper world where things have to be done quickly. Other mistakes aren't quite so forgivable, though. I once bought an (admittedly cheap) edition of... Vanity Fair, I think it was, only to get it home and find out that there was no punctuation in it. At all. In the entire book. How could even a minimum-wage slave from a low-cost publishing house miss the fact that there was NO PUNCTUATION? Maybe they thought that Thackery was all about the stream of consciousness thing? I dunno.

Now that we've moved from the comparatively fast world of newspaper publishing to the nearly immediate world of electronic media, placeholder text is that much more likely to escape from the backroom. I'm sure everyone's found weird-looking stuff on news sites that doesn't make sense. I mean besides the stories, of course. And blogdom? Fugitive placeholders are almost a given. My two fans see them here regularly -- any post that starts with blah blah blah or something something is me trying to get my brain into blather gear. Usually the nonsense titles are removed before I publish. Sometimes not. Sometimes the "not" is on purpose (like when I find out that I really, truly didn't have anything to talk about. In that case, blah blah blah sounds about right for a post title), but occasionally it's just me forgetting to proofread. Often I'll go back and change those titles when I notice them, but the funny thing about Blogger is that changing a post title doesn't change its published url. In other words, a post that started out blah blah blah but later became something worth reading (shut up. It happens. Occasionally) will still end up being pointlessblatherblog.blogspot.com/2010/09/blah-blah-blah.html if I've accidentally posted it that way the first time. Oh, and please do note that the (purposely incomplete) address I just typed isn't a real one. Yet. There's still enough of September available that it's possible you'll get a blah-blah-blah.html before the month is through.

Naturally, I'm not the only one who does that. One of the bloggers I follow has often joked that one of these days she'll forget to remove her usual placeholder post title and we'll all wonder what the heck it has to do with anything. Her placeholder of choice? Words. And how do her followers know this? Well, self-fulfilling prophecy, I guess you could call it. And when she noticed she'd just published a post called Words, she decided to leave it in fun and just edit the post slightly to point out why it was there.

So what has any of this to do with anything? Oh, not much. Just the fact that those of us who are into language bloopers and things like that get a little chuckle out of escaped placeholders, that's all.

Hey, everyone needs a hobby.

Even if it's blah blah blah.

Shut up, Jay

Today's photo, in addition to being pointless, was also chosen at random. Seriously. I didn't even look at what I was clicking on.

Turned out not too badly, all things considered. It's still pointless, though.

----------

Ok. Last night I stayed up late to watch Jay Leno (which, considering that it's on an hour later here than it is for most of you, means staying up LATE) after an already long day. Really not very smart, girl-who-hasn't-been-sleeping-properly. Yes, yes, I know. But I had to, you see. I was already recording something else, and since my dvr's old enough to have just the one tuner my only choice was to stay up late.

Or, erm, find it on the internet the next day, yes. But I didn't think of that at the time. I did say I'd had a long day. Brain not exactly firing on all cylinders.

Anyway.

There are probably only two (maybe three) guests in the universe that would have me staying up late to watch Leno, but Hugh Laurie is one of them. The man is clever, funny, and entertaining as hell in the right circumstances, and I live in the eternal hope that someday, some American interviewer will manage to not only ask intelligent questions of him but also stop to hear the answers.

Jay Leno won't be that interviewer.

Hey, I'm the first to admit that I'm not a fan of Leno. I understand that he's a nice enough guy (although recent events certainly suggest that he's a weasel in business), but I just plain don't find him funny. I don't really understand how anyone can find him funny, honestly, but I'm sure that the people who do find him funny don't understand how I can find the Scottish Conan Guy anything but crude. Fair enough. We all have different tastes. Mine is to find Leno rather bland.

What bothers me more than that, though, is the general American talk show tendency (yep, they all do it) to not let the guests speak. It's so fricking frustrating. These hosts so obviously spend most of their interviews waiting for the slightest opening to make themselves look smart or funny or important or whatever when they should be paying attention to what's currently being said. And yeah, I can imagine (well, more than imagine. I'm a very regular late-night talk show watcher. Usually on the dvr the next morning rather than stupid o'clock at night, though) that they have plenty of interviews where it's necessary to do that sort of thing because the guest is more or less incapable of being entertaining otherwise, but when the guest is well-spoken and has something worth talking about, I wish they'd all learn to recognise that it's SHUT UP TIME.

Of course, with Leno I get to frustration boil-over all that much sooner simply because, unfortunately for him (unfortunate if he actually cared about what I think of him. Which he doesn't. Which, good... since if it was the other way around I wouldn't likely care either), he falls into the category of Celebrities I'd Like To Slap.

There's a few of them.

Renée Zellweger, for instance. Nothing against her personally (or any of the other people I mentally slap) but I have a visceral reaction to her mannerisms to the point where I can't watch her movies because I'm constantly wanting to smack the smug off of her face. Is she smug? Probably not. Doesn't stop me from wanting to slap her, though.

I find Gwyneth Paltrow to be fairly slappable as well. In her case I didn't make it through Emma, although I did manage Shakespeare in Love. I think it had a fair amount to do with the Fiennes fellow in that case, however. Either that or the codpieces.

Um, I just mean that I liked the costumes. Really.

No, really.

Where was I?





Oh yeah. Leno. I'm not sure why he's in the CILTS club (hey! I didn't realise until now that it makes a pronounceable acronym. Feel free to use it if you like), but between that and the fact that he's not funny you won't catch me watching his show without some very special provocation.

And I just wish that one day he'd let the provocation actually get all the way through a story or two, that's all.

[/overly tired for stupid reasons]

I visited Pointless Blather Blog and all I got was this pointless photo...

It's all you're likely to get, too.

I gave up pretending to sleep at about 3:30 am, you see.

That more or less explains the last few days' worth of invisible posts as well.

Who'd have ever thought that sleeping would get to be one of the biggest issues in my life, you know? It's all more than a little bit frustrating. As I'm sure you can imagine.

Anyway. No brain for a post today, no post tomorrow because I'm at a workshop... Saturday? Well, I guess we'll see.

Going now, though.

Is it wrong to start a post with absolutely no ideas?

Today's pointless photo is either abstract lawn art or an illustration of what happens when the squirrel in your neighbour's spruce tree decides to go absolutely cone-batty.

Tis the season, I guess.

----------

As the post title says, the brain is empty today. I could have sworn I had ideas for this post when I got to work today (hmm. Maybe the "idea" was just trying to remember that I should post? That could be), but apparently I don't right now.

Which is bad, because right now is when I'm trying to post.

Well, let's see. I could post something about food, I suppose. There's always something about food, right?

This week's Illustration Friday prompt was dessert, and for whatever reason that caused me to doodle a piece of saskatoon pie in my sketchbook at lunch yesterday. I miss my grandma's saskatoon pie. I'll buy store-bought every once in a blue moon out of craving for saskatoon pie, but it's kind of silly that I do because it'll never really be grandma's pie. Commercial pie crust will never be grandma's pie crust, and the filling will never contain saskatoons that we gathered ourselves (well, duh on both counts there, Dee). Still, at least I can occasionally get saskatoon pie in a store, and since that's the only way I'm likely to get it these days it'll have to do.

I can't make pie, you see. Or maybe I can make pie, but I wouldn't know because I've never made one. That was my grandma's job, you see.

OH HEY. A TOPIC!

For whatever reason, in my mother's family if one person (ok, let's narrow it down a bit to one female person) did something, then the others didn't. I don't know if it was a way to keep from fighting or what, but if one person had a skill no one else went near it. Case in point? My lack of pie-making ability. Grandma made pies, so my mother didn't. I sometimes helped my grandma fill the pies or tarts, but I couldn't tell you the first thing about making a crust (other than what I've seen on the Food Network) because Grandma made them. Oh, and it wasn't just pie crusts. Grandma knitted; Mom crocheted. Mom kind of wanted to knit, but it wasn't until Grandma decided to give up knitting because of her eyesight and arthritis that Mom bought a whole bunch of knitting stuff and started to learn. From a book. You'd think it might have made more sense to get her own mother to teach her, but no. Maybe she thought they'd lose patience with each other? Could be. Anyway, there was no hint of Mom knitting until Grandma stopped.

Kind of weird, yes.

And on a less weird but sadder note, it wasn't long before I inherited all the knitting things after Mom died. Did I knit before then? Um, a little. I taught myself when Mom was learning, but in my case learning from a book made sense because I'm left-handed and my mother wasn't. My knitting career stopped pretty quickly when my first dishcloth turned out better than her first dishcloth, though. She'd misread the instructions, and she seemed so disappointed in the result that I thought it would be easiest just to follow the family tradition of non-competitive hobbies. Even if I don't really understand it.

The thing that kind of bothers me about all of this is that I feel like the whole Mom-Grandma separate interests treaty (A non-competition agreement? You know, that could have been it all along) caused me to lose some family skills. My grandmother was of the generation that originally did home-made out of necessity, but she kept it up for as long as she was able. And while I helped out with small things when Grandma was baking or during canning season, I never did get shown the whole process because it was grandma's job. As a result it died with her, for the most part. And it's sad that if I ever get interested in doing any of those things she used to do, I'll be learning it from a book.



Aaand... just to keep this from ending on a depressing note, I should mention here that my mother made good cookies, and so does her daughter. Because her mother taught her, you see. I guess the non-competition agreement wasn't binding over the third generation...

Chapter 1185: Wherein Dee lives in denial

I have work to do to get things ready for fall school programs.

I'm currently not doing it.

And why?

Because that would mean that it's time for fall school programs.

I don't want it to be time for fall school programs, because that would mean that it's nearly fall.

Which it is.

And the first school program of the season is next week, so I have to get the fall packs ready.

But I don't want to.

Because that would mean that it's time for fall school programs....






Sigh.

Isn't circular thinking fun, boys and girls? Fun, but not productive. I guess. So I'd better get the stuff ready for fall programs. I guess.


Or maybe I'll have lunch first.





Ok then. I'll let you know tomorrow if I've got the stuff ready for fall programs. I'm betting you'll already be able to guess the answer.

Pointless random question of the day:

What is MacLaren's Imperial cheese?

I mean, I know that it's a processed cheese product, I know that it's tasty (there's some in my fridge right now, in fact), I know that it's a bit of a nostalgia food for me (which is, actually, why it's in my fridge at the moment. I was getting groceries, noticed the Imperial, remembered my mother buying it, and realised I'd kind of like some of that stuff), but I really have no idea what exactly Imperial is made of.

Cheese, obviously. I know that it has cheese in it because it says so on the the label, but other than that it's kind of a mystery.

And please don't tell me that it's "cold pack" or "product". That's no help at all.





And... I'm afraid that the cheese puzzlement will have to do it for today. There are work things that have to be done. You know, here at work.

Pointless photo of the day:

Sorry, all. Got busy with other things and forgot to blog.

This is all you get today, I guess. I'll try for something more blatherish tomorrow.