**************************************************************************** ### # # ### ##### ## # # # ## ## # # ### ##### ## ### ### # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #### ### # # # # # # # # # ## # #### ### # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # ### # ## # # # ## ## ## ### # # # # # ### ____________________________________________________________________________ # # ### #### # # #### # # ### #### ##### # # ##### #### # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #### ### ### ##### # # #### ##### # # ##### ### # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # ### ### # # # # #### # # ### # # # ##### ##### #### *******NUMBERS 311 TO 315*****************************BY DANIEL BOWEN******* *****Please note, some of the quoted addresses within this file may no***** ***longer be correct. Please always use tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu for enquiries*** "Family Toxic Custard" ##### #### # # #### TOXIC CUSTARD WORKSHOP FILES # # # # # # http://www.tcwf.rucc.net.au # # # # # ### Number 311 - 2nd September 1996 # #### ##### # by Daniel Bowen For those of us in Australia, yesterday was Fathers' Day. I don't know if this is the case in other countries - it's certainly not so in the USA, where it's earlier in the year. That's one great thing about being married to an American - I get two Fathers' Days! Lori isn't quite so lucky, somehow Mothers' Day ended up being on the same day in both countries. And I'm nowhere near as good at buying presents. Isaac's just over fifteen months old now, and creating havoc around the house. On Saturday I came into the livingroom to find him climbing the bookshelf. He hadn't got very far, but seemed determined to get to the top shelf, where his Wiggles video is. "Isaac, what are you doing?", I said in that special parents' tone of voice. It's a tone of voice that you can only do once you become a parent, actually. There's a special pre-natal class about it. He must have realised he wasn't meant to be climbing the bookshelf, because he slowly began to descend back down to the ground. And when he got to the ground, he let go of the bookshelf, and started to walk slowly, backwards, across the room. His face was one of completely innocence, as if to say "Me? I wasn't doing anything." It wasn't working. Inside I was snickering at the sight of my son walking backwards, but my stern dad's face was on. And he must have realised. "Uh oh, it's not working. I'd better do something cute." He started to snort, while continuing to walk backwards. It worked. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The mobile revolution has a problem. With over two million Australians now carrying mobile phones, one aspect of the technology is really creating problems. Not the cost, not the environmental impact of towers, or even the overloading mobile phone frequencies. It's the phones themselves. They all sound alike. Almost daily on the train, you'll hear a phone ring. And a dozen people around the carriage will reach for their belts or bags to check if it's theirs. There must be a solution to this. Maybe the phones can be programmed to play different tones, or tunes, or perhaps a sound nominated by the user. How about "Oi Daniel, phone call!" or your favourite guitar riff. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The Moron Of The Week standards are getting higher (or is that *lower*). It takes a real moron to rate a mention these days, the driver of red stationwagon FZR122 met the challenge on Saturday. It has to be said that driving at speed around the narrow streets of Richmond is a bloody stupid to do, and not slowing down at a roundabout to see if there's anybody trying to cross the street is an even more stupid thing to do. Thankfully his brakes work quite well, or yours truly and family might not be here to be writing about it. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Toxic Custard's sixth birthday was a few weeks ago, and you might remember that I asked you to send me a sound file of you singing Happy Birthday, or to humiliate yourself by singing it loudly to a lot of people... or both. A few replies... alas the only sound file send cut out after 513K and the third line of the song, but some of the mail was well worth quoting. There's obviously some people in the world with no shame... s335810@student.uq.edu.au: There weren't really enough people in the second year computer science labs at the uni of qld, so After doing my happy birthday here I thought it needed a bit more of an audience. So I sang it on a train coming back from the Ekka (Like the Royal show). 42 people in the carriage. Only about 10 more from the labs. That gives 52 people. Do I win? Someone who fears their family may be reading this (hmmm could be a blackmail opportunity here): I did actually sing happy birthday to TCWF but I didn't get around to writing to you. It was in a crowded PC lab at uni, while I was supposed to be doing a Spatial Data Analysis prac [...] The looks from the thirty or so other people doing the prac were good enough, but the best reaction was from the lecturer, who suggested, in all seriousness, that I might need to see the uni counsellor. There was a prize for the best stories, but it was just a mention here. Of course, people in South Australia didn't need to send in a real story, they just needed to write "TCWF" on a piece of paper and send it in. Lucky them. All correspondence will be laughed at heartily and thrown on the recycling pile. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Our 1995 Monty Python calendar is still sitting on the wall. It's been on the one page for the last eight months. Displayed is the bonus 13th month, Derry & Toms, which includes two 14ths. This poses a problem, because it's the nearest calendar to the computer. Every week, without fail, when I write the banner headline for Toxic Custard, I look to this calendar for the date. Fortunately some bright spark at Microsoft made the current date fairly easy to find on Windows 95, so it doesn't throw me for long. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Toxic Custard Web site has a whole bunch of stuff. Trust me. Just point your browser at http://www.tcwf.rucc.net.au (with mirrors) For those with FTP access, back issues are at ftp://ftp.funet.fi/pub/doc/humour/ToxicCustard For subscription requests, changes, removals, comments, insults, abuse, suggestions, drop us a line at tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Copyright (c) 1996 Daniel Bowen. May be distributed complete without a charge provided no modifications are made. Excerpts by permission please. -- Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia-------------> Less footy clubs every hour! Work: dbowen@cpe.com.au-------> Computer Power Education, Advance R&D Project Play: dbowen@rucc.net.au / dbowen@gnu.ai.mit.edu----TCWF: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Strolling Toxic Custard" TOXIC CUSTARD WORKSHOP FILES NUMBER 312 - 8TH SEPTEMBER 1996 http://www.tcwf.rucc.net.au BY DANIEL BOWEN------------------------------------------------------ Clearing out some old uni notes over the weekend I found in a margin this gem of creativity that you might enjoy. Or perhaps not. "Earless Dead Geriatric Destitute Teenage Mutant Ninja Bignosed Cowboys Who Need Dental Treatment" Most of the other scrawlings on my lecture notes seemed to either be related to being extremely bored or be various quotes from my favourite TV shows. One folder has the original concept from which Mr Popsicle, secret agent, developed, and has been retained for historical value. Most of it is going out, or at least, helping to pile up our recycling to impressive new heights. This has been added the surprisingly small amount of literature picked up at the PC'96 Show last week. The new Melbourne Exhibition Centre, which I haven't been in before, was very impressive. Unlike the Show itself. Has nothing happened technology-wise since last year? Nothing caught my eye. Or maybe it was because I wasn't in a buying mood. But I got the feeling nobody was really as enthusiastic this year as last year. The fact that I got away without being flooded with literature has to be an indicator. In previous years corporate minions were thrusting papers at me about every product under the sun. But this year, nothing really shone. Just a few video conferencing displays (yawn), plenty of modems and Internet providers (double-yawn) and colour printers (triple-yawn). - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - With the bulk of people on my project at work departing at the end of the month, a plethora of social activities have been scheduled to make sure we miss each other all the more after September. Lunches, barbecues, wine tours, cancelled ski weekends... and this week, indoor soccer is scheduled. And when I play, I am going to be very very careful indeed. Why? Let me explain. It's been about two years since I played in an indoor soccer game. That was at my last job. The final game of Winter '94. And it was, not to put too fine a point on it, a bit of a bloodbath. From memory, two trips to hospital were made during or after the game. I think perhaps everybody got a tad too enthusiastic. Afterwards, nobody really felt like organising another game. But with a fresh bunch of players, hopefully things will run a little more peacefully this time. Maybe we'd better make sure everyone's ambulance subscription is paid up before we start. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Is it just me, or when they announce the arriving trains at Caulfield, do they only mention the scheduled time of the train when it's on time? In any case, apparently the PTC have achieved their best ever figures for trains running on time. Okay, so they seem to have been getting better, but it strikes me as suspicious that they now say that any train running within FIVE minutes of the scheduled time is on time. Does that mean if you have a job where it's really important to be on time, if you get to work four minutes late you can say "oh, it's okay boss, statistically speaking I'm actually on time". Possibly not. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - We just bought a new pram. Oh, sorry, a *stroller*. It's so much different from a pram, you know. The old one is on its last legs, that is to say, on its last wheels. Okay, so it's not quite that far gone, but it's getting there. We treat our prams rough. So we splashed out on a pram that will last us for the rest of our pram-using years. The one we should have bought first. Boy, did we splash out. We got the deluxe model. The heavy-duty one. The Emmaljunga "Grizzly", it's called. From Sweden. This is the Volvo of prams. It's built like a tank, and is packed full of safety features. It's luxurious. And big. Bigger than some small cars, actually. I've seen traffic wardens eyeing it. If it were motorised (that's probably an optional add-on) we could just about pile everyone into it for a spin. There could be complications if we put it on the road, I think we'd need to pay car registration. And the price? People reading who aren't parents may not believe how much we splashed out on this super-pram. Parents will know you can spend anything you like on baby equipment. This one cost us a mere A$399. Yup. Believe it. Thankfully they apparently have a pretty good resale value on the second-hand pram market. From the manual... "Before using your new stroller, please be sure to review the important safety tips we have included in this detailed manual. You will then be on your way to years of safe and reliable strolling." Yes indeed. We don't walk down the street with it. We *stroll*. We stroll down to the shops. We stroll through the park. Stroll, stroll, stroll, stroll, stroll. Well, that's it for this week. Bye. Must stroll. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Toxic Custard Web site has a whole bunch of stuff. Trust me. Just point your browser at http://www.tcwf.rucc.net.au (with mirrors) For those with FTP access, back issues are at ftp://ftp.funet.fi/pub/doc/humour/ToxicCustard For subscription requests, changes, removals, comments, insults, abuse, suggestions, drop us a line at tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Copyright (c) 1996 Daniel Bowen. May be distributed complete without a charge provided no modifications are made. Excerpts by permission please. -- Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia-------------> Less footy clubs every hour! Work: dbowen@cpe.com.au-------> Computer Power Education, Advance R&D Project Play: dbowen@rucc.net.au / dbowen@gnu.ai.mit.edu----TCWF: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu Re: Geelong vs North Melbourne game Sunday. I don't want to talk about it OK? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Just another manic Toxic Custard" ===== ==== = = ==== | | | | | http://www.tcwf.rucc.net.au |oxic |ustard | | |orkshop |=iles Number 313, 16/9/96 | ==== ===== = written by Daniel Bowen In our spare/computer/office/junk room at home we have a noticeboard. It's a place where we can pin up notices for people to read. Which people? I'm not sure. Noticeboards are a positive boon in the office, where people walk past and need to check out the latest corporate news, project status or Footy Tipping results, but I begin to suspect their usefulness at home is severely limited. Although come to think of it, apart from the Footy Tipping, nobody reads the noticeboard at work either. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - In World News, US forces continue to amass in the Middle East as part of Bill Clinton's battle against his biggest enemy - Bob Dole. No, really, is it just me with my minimal knowledge of the situation (though probably no more minimal than anyone else's)... or is this all a cynical ploy for votes? And my sources say it's working. On a bearded note... Sorry, start again. Wrong word. On a related note, I have a theory about politics. Am I right in thinking that any country in which the head of state and all his henchmen err, ministers wear army dress is a dictatorship? Put it another way: If he wears a beret and greens, you probably never got the chance to vote for (or against) him. I have another theory... maybe the reason the Chinese government are so nasty about human rights is that they're all only children? It's good to see the Dalai Lama getting a good reception on his current visit to Australia. I wonder anyone will tell him the joke someone said on Good News Week last week, about "Dalai Lamas in Pyjamas"? It has possibilities... D2: "Are you thinking what I'm thinking, D1?" D1: "I think I am, D2!" D1 and D2: "Free Tibet!" - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - TOXIC CUSTARD HITS THE STATES The US trip collection. With photos! Now at http://www.tcwf.rucc.net.au/usa/ I think I got the travel bug during our US trip in April. It's so refreshing to go somewhere different. But for small doses of that kind of experience, perhaps it's not necessary to go flying off to different continents, and with it the risks of travelling - crashes, hijacks and the most dangerous, airline food. On Saturday we went scooting up Sydney Road, Brunswick. From a distance it looks like just another bit of Melbourne suburbia. But once you're off the tram and on the street, in little ways it's like a different world. At least, compared to Caulfield. The shops have food you don't see much over this side of town. Weird looking beans in large quantities. Exotic spices that don't show up in south-eastern Safeways. Real Turkish Delight, made by real Turks! Lots of signs in Arabic. And believe it or not, we even laid eyes on Ali Baba's Variety Store. We spent Sunday wandering around Elwood. I used to live in Elwood, about ten years ago, and it's surprising how the place has changed. It's become a lot more trendy than it used to be. There didn't used to be all those hippy merchandise shops down there selling herbs, incense and other such foul smelling stuff. And now it seems Elwood is the place to have Sunday lunch. We couldn't get in at the place on the beach run by Crowded House's former drummer, so we ended up having lunch at a place frequented by semi-well-known comedians. Oh, don't worry, we were very cool about it when Judith Lucy and Anthony Morgan walked in. Didn't ask for autographs, didn't say anything, didn't stare. Well, they're not exactly mega-stars, are they. Nope. Certainly not worth getting embarrassed over. (I can tell you now - Judith Lucy's depressed expression isn't put on. It's real. Or maybe she just uses it when reading cafe menus.) In any case, I *have* to be cool about celebs. Because (so I'm told) I'm a bit of a net.celebrity. In the minorist of minor ways, of course. Got recognised at a party once. Well, okay, a party full of net.geeks. And actually, anybody who's been posting publicly online since before 1992 is a net.celebrity. So in the cafe, we were all relaxed. I got stuck into my bacon, avocado and cheese melt. Susannah, my sister: "So Daniel, how's your cholesterol levels?" Daniel, myself, me: "Thriving, thank you very much!" Elwood is a lot smaller than I remember it. Individual things aren't so much smaller, but it's certainly all closer together. It seems to be the same with all the places I lived or went as a child that I remember well but haven't been back to in a few years. Things have shrunk together. Oh, and there's more mobile phone towers. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The MORON OF THE WEEK deserves a special mention this week, given that it was an RACV service van. DPP-593 was seen masterfully going through a red light and stopping over the pedestrian crossing on the corner of Flinders and Elizabeth Streets in the city on Saturday afternoon. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Toxic Custard Web site has loads of fun stuff. Your eyeballs will be so pleased when you show them http://www.tcwf.rucc.net.au For those with FTP access, back issues are at ftp://ftp.funet.fi/pub/doc/humour/ToxicCustard For subscription requests, changes, removals, comments, insults, abuse, suggestions, drop us a line at tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Copyright (c) 1996 Daniel Bowen. May be distributed complete without a charge provided no modifications are made. Excerpts by permission please. -- Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia--> Only 1000Km from the 2000 Olympic City! Work: dbowen@cpe.com.au-------> Computer Power Education, Advance R&D Project Play: dbowen@rucc.net.au / dbowen@gnu.ai.mit.edu----TCWF: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Toxic Custard with ham cheese and lettuce" ***** *** * * **** Toxic http://www.tcwf.rucc.net.au * * * * * Custard Written by Daniel Bowen * * * * * *** Workshop Number 314 * *** * * * Files 23rd September 1996 Last Friday morning I was making my sandwich for lunch in the customary manner. I'd forgotten that I wouldn't actually need one as we at work were all going out for lunch, but that's another matter. I decided on my favourite recipe (if you can call it that) of ham, cheese and lettuce. Actually "decided" is probably the wrong word. Ham, cheese and lettuce is the default sandwich, the one I always make if I can't decide what else to make, can't bother to think of anything more imaginative, or haven't got the ingredients for anything else. This accounts for about four days out of five most weeks. For some reason I always get all the ingredients out of the fridge (or appropriate cupboards) before I start. But they go away as they get used, not all in one go afterwards. On went the butter, the ham, the cheese. Next, the lettuce. I pulled some out of its plastic bag. On the occasions I buy lettuce, I put it in a bag in the fruit section in the supermarket. The check-out chick then feels compelled to place this bag inside another bag, even if it's the only item I'm buying. No wonder we all generate too much landfill. It's probably worth mentioning at this point that I sometimes stop off at the supermarket on the way home from work. For me one of the main benefits of owning a mobile phone is you can check if any groceries are needed on the way home. This causes no end of amusement from my fellow workmates walking with me when I'm heard discussing which of the family's three kinds of milk need to be bought. Lori drinks skim, I drink "Rev" and Isaac drinks full cream. Some of you might remember that recently I was talking about lettuce. I take some lettuce out of its plastic bag. There's something on one of the pieces. Eugh. Looks like somebody's bogie. Some joker in the supermarket has been picking his nose and placing the really gooey ones on the lettuce. Yeuch. It moves. A worm or slug of some kind. Ah. This is better. At least, I think it is. I think I'd prefer bonus wildlife on my lettuce to nasal discharge. Though either way I think I'd prefer it not to be on my sandwich. (Three paragraphs ago I switched to present tense. Apologies to any of my English teachers, should they ever be reading this, for mixing my tenses. I tried to switch it back into past tense like the rest of the piece. But it just didn't work.) - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I've been trying to avoid this, but I don't think there's any way around this. I think we have stupid neighbours. It's the garbage collection. Granted, it's not the ideal set-up. For our block of six flats we have: * A set of six small bins for bottle and can recycling. * Paper recycling collected from the curb only once a month, so you really need some spare space for a serious pile somewhere if you're going to bother. * Three big bins for all the other crap that can't or won't get recycled. But now here comes the masterstroke of logic that probably kept dozens of bureaucrats at the City Of Glen Eira busy giggling into the night. We have *another* big bin, also for bottle and can recycling. Nobody knows why. But it has a distinctive red lid so the general garbage collector guy in his truck with the robot arm doesn't pick it up. So roaming the streets every Wednesday morning are *two* sets of bottle and can collectors. Thank goodness merging local councils has made them super lean and efficient. One or more of our neighbours just can't fathom this red-lidded bin. Not even after a booklet about it, a special letter, and stickers placed all over the bin saying what should be in it. Every week it shows up on the curb with the other big bins, full of the wrong kind of rubbish. And every week the collectors ignore it, or add a few more stickers. Hopefully eventually the council will realise what a monumental screw-up they've committed by (a) collecting bottles and cans twice every Wednesday, and paper only once a month and (b) entrusting my neighbours with the relatively simple task of putting a particular type of rubbish into a particular bin. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - For a friend of a friend's pub crawl on a hired tram... The small print on the back of a fake invitation/tram ticket: Ticket conditions Available for use on this tram only, wherever it happens to go on the evening of xxxx. This ticket is not transferable, not even to your close relatives or workmates, not even if they're just nipping out at lunchtime. It must be presented on demand to any Gumby or Met Gestapo officer who might ask to see it. All passengers must disembark the vehicle at the allotted stopping places and consume the maximum alcoholic beverage possible before continuing on their journey. Vomiting on board the vehicle is not nice. Vomiting out of the window is not advisable when the cops are in the vicinity. The conditions on this ticket are enforced by no one in particular. Please check that the date shown, your fancy dress, and the tram you are on are correct before drinking yourself into a stupor, stripping, throwing yourself at the conductor and bellowing the theme from Thomas The Tank Engine. The Public Transport Corporation is not responsible or liable for any compromising situations you might get yourself into while in a state of intoxication on this trip. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Toxic Custard Web site is absolutely brimming with hundreds of thousands of words arranged into amusing combinations. Find them all, and more, at http://www.tcwf.rucc.net.au If you're deprived and only have FTP access, the Toxic Custard back issues can be found at ftp://ftp.funet.fi/pub/doc/humour/ToxicCustard For subscription requests, changes, removals, comments, insults, abuse, suggestions, drop us a line at tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Toxic Custard Workshop Files - http://www.tcwf.rucc.net.au - is copyright (c) 1996 Daniel Bowen. Excerpts may be distributed without charge provided no modifications are made and this notice is appended. -- Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, home of AFL footbrawl... Grand Final this Saturday!! Work: dbowen@cpe.com.au-------> Computer Power Education, Advance R&D Project Play: dbowen@rucc.net.au / dbowen@gnu.ai.mit.edu----TCWF: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Get away with Toxic Custard" Please note: Reading Toxic Custard is NOT compulsory. ===== ==== = = = ==== http://www.tcwf.rucc.net.au |oxic |ustard | | |orkshop |-iles Number 315, 30/9/96 | ==== ===== = Written by Daniel Bowen I include the above note because it would appear that someone thinks it is. Someone out there apparently believes the entire human race must by law read Toxic Custard every week. How do I know this? Because he emailed me with an (almost) anonymous hate message. At least, I'm guessing it's a he because of (a) the references to carnal relations with female members of my family and (b) I've never met or known a woman immature enough to become this hysterical about something she obviously didn't like, not even over email. If this "LuCiD" person (and I use the term loosely) is reading, may I point out that I realise not everybody likes Toxic Custard, and that you don't have to read it. If you're on my mailing list, you asked to be. And if "LuCiD" or anybody else is on the mailing list and *doesn't* want to be, then email me straight back - don't delay - do it right now! - and you'll be removed. It's that easy. It's worth pointing out that a few unfortunate people receive Toxic Custard without asking for it, because it's forwarded by their friends, who presume they'll like it. If you are forwarding it to your friends, please check with them that they want it, because quite frankly, I'm sick of getting the flack over it. If your friends don't like Toxic Custard, you can probably still be friends with them, though if you know Mr LuCiD then I'd seriously reconsider it. And please, tell him to grow up. Sorry, but I'm far too polite to quote the actual hate mail here. And I can't really complain too much, since I solicit abuse and insults when I mention the TCWF email address... - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Phew, it's good to be home. Two days away on a business trip/getaway/ team building exercise/workshop thingy, out in the sticks. Well, okay, out in Eltham, which used to be the sticks and is now the outer outer suburbs. So not quite a getaway from the city, but almost. I got a lift with a workmate, and am in the unique position this week of having been in this week's MORON OF THE WEEK's car. The award-winning trick was driving through a clearly red light in Williamsons Road, Doncaster on Sunday morning. Quite frankly, this scared the shit out of me. I elected on an alternative mode of transport to get home on Monday. (I'd have quoted the licence plate number but I forgot to write it down. No, honest.) It was quite a nice little motel place we stayed at, though the Games room was a tad lacking. A radio, a table tennis table, a couple of bats and a ball. No darts. No billiards. A bit sad, to be honest. Should've been renamed the Game room. But the meals were okay. Great, actually. Apart, that is, from the fact that hot chocolate was apparently beyond kitchen staff's capabilities. And the rooms were very luxurious. Big TV, sofa, nice view, spa... Ah, there's nothing better than a company-paid room. Of course, the whole point of getting away is to spend most of the day in a conference room in meetings, which to some extent defeats the effort of going all the way out there in the first place. Due to being away during my normally scheduled writing time, that's all for this week. More next time... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Toxic Custard Web site is absolutely overflowing with hundreds of thousands of words arranged into amusing combinations. All that and more, at http://www.tcwf.rucc.net.au If you're deprived and only have FTP access, the Toxic Custard back issues can be found at ftp://ftp.funet.fi/pub/doc/humour/ToxicCustard For subscription requests, changes, removals, comments, insults, abuse, suggestions, drop us a line at tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Toxic Custard Workshop Files - http://www.tcwf.rucc.net.au - is copyright (c) 1996 Daniel Bowen. Excerpts may be distributed without charge provided no modifications are made and this notice is appended. -- Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia------Are red and white the losing colours? Work: dbowen@cpe.com.au---> Advance Online Pty Ltd--------------------------- Play: dbowen@rucc.net.au / dbowen@gnu.ai.mit.edu----TCWF: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Toxic Custard Workshop Files - http://www.tcwf.rucc.net.au - is Copyright (c) 1996 Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia. Excerpts may be distributed without charge provided no modifications are made and this notice is appended. For subscription and back-issue information, contact tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu