Popsok prompts part 2 and rebuttal to Garinda!

Well, hello...

Yes, the easter break went far too quickly as usual (I am currently at work - due to start at 12pm, with a rather sick feeling in my stomach - never good!!). However, I do feel as if we had a good break: didn't really do much apart from a bit of clothes shopping (needed by us, not needed by our budget!), and some DIY around the flat.

Anyway, I have an even shorter week this week with an excel course taking up all of thursday, so can't complain too much - but of course I will. My best buddy at work is away this week too *sniff*

All of this is to make you feel a little sorry for me... So when you read Gary's hard words to me you will see that they were the dirt-flecked icing on the stale cake of sunday evening. I was not trying to one-up you, Tovey! I was merely asserting my superiority in research skills... ahem, ahem.

Alright, so the question-master has posed some other queries which I will be dealing with as the long already-getting-too-hot-for-me days drag on. Well inbetween other more pressing things anyway! ;)

So, Tove: No more Helen: 250, Gary: 1, I promise! It's just not fair to you, really.

Righto. Pernod. What can I say? Yes, I have tried it myself, but only because it was forced upon me without my knowledge (I could get you sent down for that, you lot!).

There I was, sober as Judge Judy sipping what I believed to be an innocent lemonade, when I detected a distinct flavour of anise on the palate. Being a trusting little thing who was, afterall in the company of 'friends', I didn't think too much of it at first. We were in a very local pub and I thought that the lemonade might have been some polish import I had yet to come across. BUT NO. It was SPIKED.

Of course I drank it. I mean, you would wouldn't you? It was purchased for me and I didn't want to appear rude (probably not the best approach to these sort of situations). But afterwards I got the true story out of them (Tovey being right in the centre of this conspiracy), how the bar girl had pulled a face of horror upon being asked to mix this vile drink, how everyone had proceeded to call me 'granny drink girl' for the rest of the evening (probably), and how I was mocked behind my back for not being able to take my pernod.

I'm not sure how I will ever recover from such a damning slur... but my defence is thus: Pernod is not meant to be drunk, Pernod is meant to be used as a powerful toilet cleaner and rather than it being shameful I couldn't/wouldn't drink more than one I am, in fact, lucky to be alive.

Over to you, Tovey.