Extra Mature Saturday

Two reportable moments in the supermarket this morning, a lot less crowded than usual because of the weather. Firstly, a little re-enactment of my encounter with the metal post last Sunday, as I hit a plastic warning cone head-on with my trolley. To clarify any ambiguity about the grammar of the last sentence that may lead to a misunderstanding of its meaning, the cone was not warning about plastic. In fact, I’m not sure what it was warning about because I did not see it until I had already hit it. I do think they should think twice about warnings because the process can become very reflexive and sometimes philosophically confusing (such as the motorway signs that say “This sign is not in use”). If you are mildly interested in similar observations on the quirkiness of daily life, you could do worse than visit my other blog. In truth, you could probably do better too.

Oh, despite my mild supermarket distress and embarrassment, I remain abstinent – even successful and dedicated Dryathletes have to shop. To tempt you further towards making a little contribution towards my fund-raising efforts for Cancer Research UK, here is a half-cut picture of me half-cut.

You know what you have to do to see more. OR…I could turn it around and post the whole picture UNLESS I see some more sponsorship money coming in! Now, how’s that for a double-bind with an ontological twist?!

The second reportable moment came when I thought I saw a description of myself at the DELicatessen counter:

“Punchy, intense, complex, full bodied and powerful”
Sadly, it was a description of extra mature cheese. I had a little sulk and set off in search of a wedge of puerile cheese.
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