Friday 13th, unlucky for some.
You might think that the long overdue, much anticipated, departure of that self serving, charmless, bag of lies, Cumminger, would be the natural topic for today’s post. Although interesting, I’m suffering from a polital news malady. The symptoms are a low level of boredom, general lack of interest and resignation. This condition is brought on by the realisation that things are a bit shit and unlikely to improve anytime soon.
The treatment for this malady involves extended periods of talking about any nonsense other than the state of the world. This medicine should be administered daily in the company of interesting and funny people.
GorJuss, has regular visits from a gentleman colleague, D. Conversations with D can take unusual turns. Someone suggested that someone was, as mad as a hatter. Why is that a thing? GorJuss asked. Are hat makers really mad? It’s worth mentioning at this point that GorJuss is not English. She is half Dutch and half Transylvanian. Fabulous.
I don’t think I’ve mentioned before that the gang of five is quite multi cultural, Em is American. Belvita originated in Yorkshire. We have a French member. One is an Italian. His accent is so strong that Cornflake thought he was messing about. D noted how smooth an Italian accent can be. He said that he knew an Italian who had learnt English listening to Madonna songs. For a while what he actually spoke was Madonna, rather than English. Apparently Madonna lyrics can be very effective for light conversation when delivered with an Italian accent.
Life is a mystery.
The mad hatter bit of the conversation took us down an internet wormhole. I said that hat makers went mad due to mercury poisoning from historic hat making processes. How? I didn’t know, but we all do now. The issue arises from the inhalation or ingestion of fumes from skins and fabrics that were treated with various forms of mercury. Including, wait for it, the urine of syphilitic workers who were being medicated with mercury. Quelle horror. This delightful information led to web sites advocating or dismissing the practice of drinking your own pee. I’ll save you the research time, I suggest you don’t.
I made it through the wilderness.
I’m seriously considering getting fluent in conversational Madonna.
fat tart 