So, my last day in work until March 7th. I'm so sad. Guess what I'll be doing?

Best story of the day so far is in Metro. Surgeons in Georgia have replaced a man's cancer-riddled penis with one of his fingers. Complete with knuckles. His girlfriends are apparently 'more than happy' with the results. Wonder if it's something to do with the claim that '...because the knuckles were left on the finger during the operation, the man has been left with an unusual trick. He can bend his finger penis as required.' Hmmm. The mind boggles. Mind you, they may have a point - a finger of fudge is just enough to give your kids a treat. Allegedly. Wonder if he licks his fingers?

Finally, Nick and I are succumbing to the effects of too much minkering. The other night in Comptons, pre-Hannibal, I meant to say 'Just nipping quickly upstairs to see Karl'. However, what came out of my mouth was 'Just nippley quicking upstairs to see Karl'. Nippley quicking? Nippley quicking?? Then last night we were cooking (pork stir-fry thing - very nice), when instead of coming out with 'The juices are coming out of the meat' (and yes, I was talking about the cooking!), I uttered the immortal line 'The meeces are coming out of the jute'! I didn't know we had meece, let alone any sackcloth.