hard boil

Every time I sit down at this computer (or eat dinner with the family, or am near them in a confined space) I fear I may get lung cancer. Chain smokers. All of them. Whilst preparing the salad, the 2cm long ash dangles precariously above what is meant to cleanse our pallet at the end of the meal.

Which reminds me. This morning I put two eggs on to boil for breakfast and went to start a bit of practice. I got sidetracked. When I went back into the house, there was a grey haze and an awful stench... water had evaporated, eggs cracked open, revealing something pretty horrific, if food can be described as horrific.

Which reminds me. Last night, whilst chez Kiki (the local) Rodolphe, some french bogans and I shared a few beers and a few Anis (French national drink that resembles cloudy apple juice, you add water, it tastes like aniseed). We were sitting around, recovering from our slog of a bike ride to get there, when in comes some drunks, come to get supplies. They stay a while, chat to Kiki and the other riffraff then they drive off. Over a kitten. We watched it flip around and contort itself in what at first we thought was playfulness (we didn't actually see the running over part, obviously) but it seemed a little violent, and to go on for too long... plus I've been watching a bit of House lately (or Dr House as Rodolphe calls it) because it's the only dvds they have... I recognise a seizure pretty good. Then it slowed down. Kiki went and picked it up by its feet and carried it away. Needless to say, the ambiance was ruined. There was a really mangey cat next to me, and I felt horrible for thinking "it should have been you, old boy, it should have been you."