Last night I dreamt that posh people piss in cider to make it taste better.
I have also come to realise that I’m inordinately amused by people doing impersonations of monsters. Big up James and Sandrine.

“Speakers of different languages not only describe the world differently – they think about it differently too, according to the study.
…
speakers of different languages used different gestures to depict the same event.
This appeared to reflect the way the structure of their languages expressed that event.” (BBC)

I’ve just seen the site for the Karlsruhe/Baden-Baden airport. No wonder the flights are cheap, check out the well-dodgy looking check-in.

I’ve been trying to find the site for the Estonian Depeche Mode theme bar, but this is the closest I could get to a proper url.

A British amateur chemist has worked out how the ancient Romans dyed the togas of emperors this deep colour thanks to a bacterium found in cockles from the supermarket Tesco. (BBC)

The Onion‘s line of the week: “There’s trouble in Iraq?! Quickly! To the unilateral- invasion-mobile!”

Help, it’s a ryanair sale.
I just got return flights to Karlsruhe-Baden for 1p each (plus taxes).
Sure, I don’t actually know where it is, but who cares? It’s only a
weekend and it’s somewhere I’ve never been.
Someone stop me before I book a trip to Klagenfurt purely because it
sounds like a fart…

London: love it or hate it?
It’s interesting to see how growing up in Australia seems to mean I’m less likely to cope with London. I learnt all about living with less personal space in Amsterdam (eventually), and I’ve learnt to cope with summer without a backyard (I lie, I whinged the whole time), but the first properly grey sky of the year depressed me and left me feeling slightly on edge. James, on the other hand, was feeling “feel incredibly happy, or hopeful, or something.”.
Now if only Mez or Karen would get a blog, I’d have a set of international input.

Thanks everyone who’s been so sweet about my purse being stolen! I have such lovely friends. The police did come around, though I still don’t know how far they or the bank will pursue it. They took the handbag, and wrote down my housemate’s mobile to ask him more questions. I don’t know if they’ve called him because I’ve sorta been avoiding him until I work out how to deal with it.
I feel incredibly foolish feeling sorry for myself on September 11, so I’m going to stop now.

I really should get around to reading and putting into practice the BBC and Guardian style guides.