It's really fucking cold

No, really. I should be hardened to this, growing up with frosts in the winter in southland, but having lived in welliefor a while (where they dont get them), i had forgotten how much fun they were. Not.

Short version - if you happen to be out on the street at 8.30 AM, looking for a newspaper in order to read about a mighty All Blacks victory , you will freeze your arse of in about 3 minutes. Which is just long enough to get to the dairy, get your stuff, and half defrost before heading out again.

Memo to self: if planning to take can of cold Dr Pepper (to try it is to love it!) back to house, accept nice mans offer of carry bag.


(ps - thats the thames back there past the last couple of trees - a little different from Alix's picture about 3-4 hours later).

It's Alive!!!!

Broadband. Not only does it let you download pr0n at a decent speed, but it actually make doing blogs feasible. Gotta love it.

Gotta not love on the other hand, the coffee at my office. I'm contracted to the GLA and offices are good, the cafe downstairs is yummy, but the instant coffee in our kitchen is vile. Admittedly, I was spoiled by the vast amounts of good Fuel plunger coffee at the Ministry, but whoever makes this muck should be shot. Along with those people who chew gum. And white guys with dreadlocks.

I'm Here

Righty ho. Time to get this actually communicating with others thing underway. Since I'm generally fairly rubbish with emails and phone calls, you might be able to get a glimpse of The Life of Dave through these pages.

And probably a fair bit of ranting about London. And if you're really lucky, some good recipes. But more likely drunken and (to me, at the time) amusing anecdotes about how public transport in london sucks ass.