[Botherer] Actually, just outside Hinckley, at a hotel off Junction 1 of the M69. And speaking of motorway junctions, there was a short film shown at the con, called "Blake's Junction 7", in which Blake's 7 are imagined as a family stopping at a service station at 3 in the morning. Filmed on location at the Newport Pagnell service area.
F*cking spam f*lters. We have a new one at work, and not only has it taken out an email from my sister in the US, telling me whether or not the birthday present for my neice arrived, but also a motor industry press bulletin - probably talking about 'sexy cars' - and a load of message failure reports which I need to be able to measure the delivery of press releases I send out. Not only that, but I've found that when I email our IT guy to ask for the messages back, he doesn't f*cking respond. I've sent him a very terse email already this morning, and my ire is still up. I need coffee and cigarettes. On the plus side, I can now tell you that my other sister (the one who married in October) is expecting a baby, and a chat friend in the US has sent me some over-the-counter wart treatment as a gift.
[pen] last time I turned the oven on it smoked out the kitchen and set the smoke detectors off. and figuring no-one else would do it, I did it. used mr muscle, and washed hands wih cidal afterwards. the skin is still there this morning so it can't be too bad.
I only just got up. I could do with coffee and cigarettes myself...
[nights] Mr Muscle? You wimp. I thought you were talking about caustic soda or sugar soap or something really evil and stinky. If that's all it was, your hands won't drop off, but it might exacerbate that limpness in your wrists.