Bins, Books and "Navel Odour"

Back to business as usual - someone ended up on this page by typing 'navel odour' into google. This makes me happy in only the way that a birth in the family or the episode of Only Fools and Horses with the Queen Mum burps and calls Rodney Dave can.

Ah, Internet. Just when I think your attractions are starting to wane, you go and do something wonderful and special like that.

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This website is functionless yet beautiful. It uses the amazon database to look up all the titles with your word in it, and then it makes a word using the covers of those books. And it beeps sometimes.

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The key task for returning from any holiday is to take the films you've finished over the course of your trip and have them fester away in a cupboard for eighteen months. I order to buck that trend, I put mine in a small plastic bag all ready to take to be developed. A promising start. What I'd then done, however, was to take it outside and put the treasured proto-photos in wheelie bin. Why would I have done this? And why did I have the feeling I'd done this, which led me to be sitting outside the house, rummaging through binbags, for all the neighbours to see and disapprove of? When I found them I wanted to jump up and point at the films and shout, 'see? I did put the films in the wheelie bin! Who's right now, neighbours? Eh? EH?' and gesticulate hyperactively, but I had to get all the rubbish back in the bin before the local cats became interested. I'll let you know how the photos turn out, and whether camera film is affected by being immersed in a soup of baked bean sauce and stale own-brand diet cola.