surely he wouldn't

I know the Lemsip wasn't involved as it was me who took it out of the cupboard but Nicky's dad had been making spoon-glass-clinking kitchenesque noises then came through to their living-room with a full glass of slightly cloudy light-brown fluid. These two items were sitting on the worktop in the kitchen. It looks like the sort of concoction a vitnery would have administered in ancient times to get an impacted calf moving again. I was mildly surprised when looking round a National Trust property during the summer that the apothecary's cabinet contained Epsom Salts as I'd always imagined them to be more for livestock than humans who have more refined emetics such as prune juice or phenylalanine-containing artificial sweeteners. Although magnesium sulphate is the fourth ingredient down it's still an ingredient and probably therefore an active one and someone had just mixed themselves a drink containing it and whisky. Very odd. Luckily Nicky hasn't picked up this sort of behaviour, nor the tendency to deploy horrible jokes and especially not the habit of installing a series of nasty ISPs' settings-hiding software on an already weary computer. He's finally sunk as low as installing AOL; admittedly he didn't know it at the time as it was masked by a reseller but it's still AOL and therefore horrible and evil. Luckily the latest freeish modem he received features an ethernet port for me to use.

Although it's barely two months since my last almost-cold another one snuck up on Thursday night and was well settled by the end of the day when it became necessary to sit through two bus and one taxi journey to get to Ayr in the absence of a working car battery. At half the price of the train it definitely makes more sense but trains tend to go a bit less mental on the horrible warm dry air. Walking from Queen Street to Central might have been an atmospherically challenging experience for an unwell nose on a Friday evening but would probably have resulted in slightly more fresh air than ten minutes in Buchanan Street bus station. I've already managed to sneak down most of the radiators in the house but it's still too warm so I shall see what the alleged fresh sea air can do whilst Nicky is off getting her trial-run of wedding-slap put on by her pal Susan.