More on that blogging conference

No, I'm not about to add my wise words of wisdom to those from Tom, Robert, Suw or Sabrina, mainly because they're doing just dandy without me, but also because I'm entirely too lazy to run one of those sorts of instructive, thoughtful weblogs filled with links, musing and comment.

I just wanted to moan about the journey up.

Aside from it being one of those days filled with strange coincidences (friend got on the same carriage as us, bumped into sister 4 at Kensington tube etc), it was also a day filled with BO. Just what in god's great name is wrong with the men on this planet? There's a teeny tiny bit of sunshine and suddenly every man on the carriage has armits that smell like rotting laundry (which reminds me, I really must empty the washing machine before I have to run the wash for a 3rd time. Who's idea was it to make life so tedious). It's entirely unforgivable. Men! Wash your armits, use deodrant and change your clothes every once in a while. That goes especially to you fat ones.

Having said that, there was a teenager of the female persuasion wandering round the garden centre ponking to high heaven yesterday. It's presumably an act of rebellion at being made to walk round a garden centre when she's trying to be aloof and misunderstood.