To some, the above photo represents tranquility
To others, it might represent an afternoon spent fishing
Still more might see it as a place of quiet contemplation, to read or write meaningful prose.
For me, its a breeding ground for damn mosquitos. I mean, have you *seen* my legs? I pedal past at 30 miles an hour, and the little blood sucking blighters still get me.
Different cleaner at work today. A guy who looks disturbingly like notorious mass murderer, Harold Shipman. He's often seen carrying large black plastic bags around. No-one knows what they contain.
However, he shares the wit of my other favourite cleaner. Today's comment.
He: "Hi"
Me: "Er, hello" (tricky to be too verbose in these situations, with a towel balanced somewhat precariously)
He: "You're the cycling guy, aren't you?"
Me: "Er, yes?"
He: (mysteriously) "Yeah, she was right"
And then he was gone. Right about what? What? I have a feeling that these guys are trying to mess with my mind.
