Somebody just called me and quickly decided it was a wrong number. The signal was bad and I wasn’t sure I’d heard them right, so I followed up by replying by text.
It turns out they asked Siri to call Three (the mobile network). Siri then presumably searched online, found Three Rings, managed to connect that to my mobile number, and called me.
If Siri’s decided that I represent Three, this could work out even worse than that time Google shared my phone number.
I’d never put much thought into it before but a slow cooker is basically the opposite of an air frier.
They’re both relatively small (compared to an oven) hot boxes for cooking food. But an air frier uses the small space to contain as much energy as possible in thir vicinity of the food, while the slow cooker aims to maintain as low a temperature as possible until the food finally cooks itself out of boredom.
Anyway, this is going to be pulled pork in like 8-10 hours. 😋
Did I just rank my LPG provider 10/10, or 1/10? I genuinely don’t know.
Whenever I’m writing a rhyme,
I can’t do the third and fourth line.
Dah-de-da-dah-duh,
Dah-de-de-dah-duh.
But somehow it still works out fine.
I’m looking at a listing for a ¼” to ⅝” screw adapter, for which the seller warns that I should “please allow 1-3cm error”.
A 3cm error would mean that a ⅝” screw could result in a screw thread anywhere between 1⅘” and… minus half an inch, I guess? (I don’t even know how to make the concept of negative lengths fit into my brain.)
I suppose this seller could send me an empty envelope and declare that it contained an infinitesimally small adapter. At which point… I’d be the one that was screwed!
A special level of accessibility failure on Egencia‘s mailing list subscription management page: the labels for choosing which individual mailing lists to subscribe to are properly-configured, but the “unsubscribe all” one isn’t. Click the words “unsubscribe all” and… nothing happens.
But it gets better: try keyboard-navigating through the form, and it’s hard not to unsubscribe from everything, even if you didn’t want to! As soon as the “unsubscribe all” checkbox gets focus, you get instantly unsubscribed: no interaction necessary.
This post is part of 🐶 Bleptember, a month-long celebration of our dog's inability to keep her tongue inside her mouth.
We made it to the end of another Bleptember, with a photo every day of my especially-bleppy young doggo.
Thanks for coming along for the ride. See you next year!
This post is part of 🐶 Bleptember, a month-long celebration of our dog's inability to keep her tongue inside her mouth.
Somehow, even when she’s alert and focussed, our dog’s bleppy tongue makes her look at least a little bit dopey.
It’s the Twenty-Ninth of Bleptember; we’re almost done for another year!
This post is part of 🐶 Bleptember, a month-long celebration of our dog's inability to keep her tongue inside her mouth.
It’s a little wet and miserable this Twenty-Eighth of Bleptember, but what really perturbed this bleppy doggo was somebody she didn’t recognise moving a wheelie-bin outside their house. What could they want? Can they be trusted? Might they have ham? 🐶
Sometimes people connect my unusual name to popular culture. They say things like “Oh, Q like James Bond?” or “Oh, Q like Star Trek?”.
I think their choice of franchise tells me more about them than they learn from my answer, which is usually “No, Q like the set of rational numbers.”
This post is part of 🐶 Bleptember, a month-long celebration of our dog's inability to keep her tongue inside her mouth.
Sometimes you’re Just Tired. It’s been a long week. Happy Twenty-Seventh of Bleptember.
This post is part of 🐶 Bleptember, a month-long celebration of our dog's inability to keep her tongue inside her mouth.
Just a mini-blep this Twenty-Sixth of Bleptember, from a certain attention-seeking doggo who insisted on a cuddle from me while I sat in a Zoom meeting.
This post is part of 🐶 Bleptember, a month-long celebration of our dog's inability to keep her tongue inside her mouth.
Perhaps it’s because I’ve been away for a couple of days and she’s missed me… but this bleppy dog wanted lots of cuddles and reassurance as we prepared for the school run, this Twenty-Fifth of Bleptember.
This post is part of 🐶 Bleptember, a month-long celebration of our dog's inability to keep her tongue inside her mouth.
I’ve spent most of the Twenty-Fourth of Bleptember travelling, but my bleppy doggo got to go out and play with her best dogfriend.
Photo courtesy of Lisa from Muddy Paws.
This post is part of 🐶 Bleptember, a month-long celebration of our dog's inability to keep her tongue inside her mouth.
“What’chu lookin’ at?” I’m away from home this Twenty-Third of Bleptember, but managed to snap this epic blep before I left.
