I hate Phil Collins

I just took a quiz online entitled 'Do you hate Phil Collins?' This was the result:

Do you hate Phil Collins?

Congratulations! You hate Phil Collins. You blame him for every mishap that occurs during your everyday life, and with good reason! Pat yourself on the back, you're a good person.
Take this quiz!








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This doesn't actually do justice to how much I hate that smug, dreary, ugly, Tory, arrogant, dumping-by-fax, scumsucking, Dairy-Milk-ad-ruining, criminally-overrated shiny-headed twat. I hate hate hate him and can't believe that he's undergoing a minor resurgence. Why? What has happened to the world? It's worse than global warming. In fact, Phil is probably responsible for global warming. It's all the methane he produces. I've despised him since I first saw him on TOTP with a pot of paint on his piano 'singing' that turgid dull-fest piece of shit so-called song 'In the Air Tonight', actually the worst record of all time. Closely followed by 'Easy Lover'.

I hate Phil Collins even more than I hate Margaret Thatcher.

Sometimes it Snows in April

...as Prince once sang.

This morning, as I padded to the loo (I like to think of myself 'padding', rather than 'staggering' or 'groping my way', both of which are actually more accurate) for my first number one of the day, Buffy cried out "It's snowing."



And so it was. Poppy was very excited as we ran out into the garden to show her the virgin whiteness. Well, excited in the same way you are when you watch a really nasty horror film or go to a job interview or are forced to eat the jellied bit off the edge of a pork pie, the last of which hasn't happened to me since my childhood but I still remember it, oh yes. I honestly thought Pops would be excited by the snow, but she really hated it. 'Get me back indoors, now,' she cried, rather than lying down and precociously creating a snow angel. Shame. I tried to tell her that by the time she's old enough to appreciate snow, global warmng would have transformed Britain into a tropical resort over-run by giant scorpions, but she didn't listen. Just wait till I show her this blog (as soon as she's learned to read).

I just broke off from this post to cut Poppy's fingernails, to prevent the nursery from writing "Can you please cut Poppy's fingernails please" in her book, which they do every week. I hope the neighbours didn't hear all the screaming and call the police.

Poor Pops has had a rough week, what with having bronchitis and not being able to go to nursery. This meant that Sara had to take most of the week off work. And what with all that stress and the added trauma of me having to go to sleep every night with olive oil in my ears (which is another story) I would describe this week as 'pretty shit', except for one super duper event:

I got my new iMac. 20", 2.0Ghz, 250MB HD, superdrive, in case you're interested in that techie stuff. More importantly, it's so so so beautiful. The screen shines like a giant diamond that's fallen into a vat of Mr Sheen. It's well lovely.

Sara loves it too, mainly because it has a new version of Photobooth on it with even more special effects and video. I know, it's just too exciting. Here are just a few of the hundreds of photos we've taken in the last few days.









The snow has all gone now. Damn, my hopes of school being closed in the morning are dashed.