Todays lesson is not to put your happiness in the hands of cinnamon mentos.
Got Indian takeaway. On the ride home my mother confided in me that the smell of their rice reminds her of cockroaches. And now it reminds me of them too. Also realised that (somewhat like Amelie) I draw a simple and slightly perverse pleasure from the different varieties of rice. And I don't just mean white and brown.
From an article in this month's Frankie about the bastardisation of yesterday's classic snacks and confectionary (by Jason Treuen): "Of course, Tim Tams aren't the only ones slutting around with "new, exciting flavours". Perrenial favourite Mint Slice has also thrown its keys in the bowl, getting freaky with other fruits like mandarin and cherry and forever surrendering its sanctity as the Slice."
Pharmacy going okay. Working there of course means that in the last couple of weeks I've eaten jellybeans in concentrations topped only by that time I got a bucket of them for Xmas which was emptied by boxing day. Delivery boy is exceedingly good-looking. He's got a bike.
From an article in this month's Frankie about the bastardisation of yesterday's classic snacks and confectionary (by Jason Treuen): "Of course, Tim Tams aren't the only ones slutting around with "new, exciting flavours". Perrenial favourite Mint Slice has also thrown its keys in the bowl, getting freaky with other fruits like mandarin and cherry and forever surrendering its sanctity as the Slice."
Pharmacy going okay. Working there of course means that in the last couple of weeks I've eaten jellybeans in concentrations topped only by that time I got a bucket of them for Xmas which was emptied by boxing day. Delivery boy is exceedingly good-looking. He's got a bike.