Helen Bristol [Continued from Backs To The Wall]
26 March 2003 09:37
The riddle now is how to solve the enigma of your alter ego.
26 March 2003 10:33
But I have no ego so how can it be altered?
Also, I don't have a left index finger (leastways a functioning one) at the moment. Ran myself through with the Global (conclusively proving how much sharper than Wusthofs they are!). So, the quacks have stuck my finger back together again (using some sort of industrial strength sellotape) and banished me from the Slave Pits.
It was a bit extreme, I know, but. hell, I needed the time off. I feel like one of those WW1 soldiers who shot themselves in the foot so they wouldn't have to go over the top!
26 March 2003 11:44
The things folk will do to get off work. I'd say it was a bit over the top! Still, I suppose it proves you're a real chef now.
26 March 2003 15:31
Well, what's left of me is a real chef.
Anyway, as AB pointed out frequently in KC, you're not a real galley slave until you've mutilated yourself multiple times!
26 March 2003 12:15
Get well soon
Sorry, I wasn't very sympathetic was I? 7 weeks off work and I'm already losing my bedside manner. Should have said something like 'I'll kiss it better'!!! Did it hurt very much? Have you cut anything vital like nerves or tendons? How long has the quack signed you off for?
26 March 2003 15:38
Hell, as the classical music hater would say, the last thing I expect is any symphony.
In answer to your Q's:-
No, it just stung a bit and bled (metaphorical) buckets. It is one of those upside/downside peculiarities that I cut myself quite deeply because it was such a sharp knife but ..... the cut closed very quickly because it was such a clean cut. According to the quacks they were going to stitch me because the cut was so deep but decided not to because the cleanness of the cut meant it would close up very quickly. Weird, no? (You have to do a Thierry Henry 'franche' accent on that last sentence).
No, didn't hit anything vital. It's a semi-horizontal slice rather than a vertical hack.
Sunday. But the holidays I'd already booked start on Friday. Really 'lucky', eh?
26 March 2003 16:08
Holidays? Booked? Going away somewhere?
26 March 2003 17:10
The stupid thing is/was/willhavebeen that there are a few outdoory sort of things I've been wanting to get round to down here. Trubble is I can't get time off when it's busy (i.e. whenever the weather is nice) and as I do not want to do impressions of Sir Ranulph Fiennes this mean I have to be ready to seize (or dye?) the carp, as the Romans say, when I can so I have left my options open. If the whether [sic] is nice then I shall be tramping around (amputations permitting) parts of Cornwallshire, if it's rubbish then I shall probably hie me hence elsewhere ..... Who knows, maybe even East Angular.
..... Or, then again .....
27 March 2003 17:02
Why would the amputation of an upper limb digit prevent you from doing outdoory things? Do you yomp about on all fours?
The weather here has been pretty good for nearly a week now. Pisses me off as I can't go snooping on our feathered friends ( except in the garden, where the nearest things to an exotic bird is a pheasant - which we are fattening up nicely)
BM says if you happen to find yourself in this neck of the woods he'll buy* you a Proper Beer
* you must be honoured!
28 March 2003 09:11
Well, mainly because, as I discovered in the last couple of days (1) it is hard to drive any distance without wanging the finger and (2) unless you want to walk for hours with one arm in the air the traditional position tends to set the old dissected digit throbbing after a while. Still, hopefully it is on the mend and I will be able to take the RT on a few expeditions (although weather's now turned rubbish!).
PS. So, Colossal Cagoule still has some Doom Bar left, eh? Or is he referring to that fen water that has so obviously eroded Winwaloe's mental capacity?
Sounds dangerous, particularly as I'd have to cross through the American re-militarised zone to get to your fastness in the bogs. Mind you, it's probably not much safer here judging from the amount of Cornish casualties we've already racked up in the Bushwar. That helicopter that crashed was full of bods from Culdrose (down by Helston) and they were probably some of the ones you often see buzzing the Island and St. Ives Bay.
Maybe it's King Tony's way of clearing the Cornish slums to make more room for the London jet-set!
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