I’m going to start bringing my own sandwiches into work.
It’s not because:
- it costs less.
- I hate queueing.
- it’s cold at the moment, so the less time I spend outside, the better.
- I don’t currently have a crush on anyone working behind the counter at a sandwich shop near work.
- I enjoy making sandwiches at 10 p.m. when I’m hungry anyway.
It is because:
- I make some of my favourite sandwiches in the world.
Tomorrow — pastrami, Edam and Havarti cheese, Santini tomatoes, Tobasco sauce, mustard and black pepper on a lightly-toasted submarine roll. Way better than the generic “turkey, cheese and tomato bap” I get most days.
The only problem now will be waiting until lunchtime.
Relative frequencies of letters in the English language.
“Herbert S. Zim, in his classic introductory cryptography text ‘Codes and Secret Writing’, gives the English letter frequency sequence as “ETAON RISHD LFCMU GYPWB VKXJQ Z”
(via Wikipedia)
I think everyone knows that ‘E’ is the most common letter in the English language, but I didn’t realise that ‘T’ was the second, and I had no idea that ‘N’ was so common either.
On the flip-side, I would have guessed ‘M’, ‘P’ and ‘B’ as being a lot more popular than they are. I probably would have overestimated the frequency of ‘S’ as well.
You know what I’ve just regretted not doing? I should have listed what I thought would be the right order of frequency first and then compared them.
I think I might be obsessed with this Hangman game on my phone.
Records
(by danhacker)
At some point in the last few weeks, a very popular person called Kenny (a.k.a. ‘Big’ Kenny) got a similar phone number to me.
(via jhnbrssndn : iisabelle : fakefuneral : thedg3 : sebaxxxtian : anomolly : sigynxvx : heatnap : mollysoda)
The Santa Chronicles
On Christmas Eve, when I was around 6-7, my mum was giving my sister a bath, so I told her I was going to set a trap for Father Christmas, to prove he’d been there. At the time, I thought my mum was proud of me for my ingenuity. Now I realise she hated me, because now she’d have to find out what it was I’d done and trigger it.
So I shut myself in the living room, and sellotaped two lengths of black thread inside the fireplace, and then moved the electric fire back into place in front of the fireplace and cleaned up after myself.
When I told my mum that my trap was all ready, she asked me what I’d done but I refused to tell her, as it might ‘compromise the situation’. Those weren’t my exact words, obviously, but I’m proud of myself for having a grasp of the idea.
Anyway, I thought it was a normal Christmas Eve. Turns out my mum was going fucking nuts because she couldn’t figure out what I’d done. Every time I left the room, she was tearing it apart trying to find the trap.
So the next morning, I get up and THE STRING WAS BROKEN! I was ecstatic.
It wasn’t until a couple of years later that my mum told me that she was almost in tears while she was putting the presents out at 1am. She had called my aunty and the parents of some of my friends to see if I’d discussed my trap with them. It wasn’t until she was putting the stockings out near the fireplace that she saw one grubby little fingerprint on the wall behind the electric fire, so she pulled it out and, after a couple of minutes, she found the thread and cut it.
Kept me believing for another couple of years.
I love stories like this. This one was inspired by Beeps.
Well, either Santa has been here early or my granddad’s car leaked all kinds of oil and anti-freeze all over the drive as he reversed out.
I took a break from Christmas shopping and held my phone down by my side.
Music: Boards of Canada — Olson
Davey Dance Blog — Rockefeller Center
This is pretty much a Christmas staple for me now.
