How do you know when you're eating too much? There's various signs. One of them is if you're making a sandwich that's forty-eight metres long. I mean, really, Mexico. That's an achievement? I think you should think twice before having the footlong in Subway, never mind forty-eight metres. Are you seriously saying you're going to finish that? I think you'd better give some to a friend, or you'll make yourself sick. There's no excuse for it, I tell you, no excuse!
The antilaser! That's what someone's dreamed up. I don't really understand what it is, perhaps I'd understand a bit more if I read it properly. The good thing about this story for me is that if it ends up as an anticlimax it will be fitting. I get the impression that it's not the sort of antilaser that you could use to unzap someone that had been zapped by a laser - that's probably a good thing, as can you imagine how long and tedious sci-fi films would be? People would definitely be drifting away from the cinema in the fifth hour as the baddie got unkilled for the eighteenth time. No, it's better the way it is. Some of these films are tedious enough as it is.
I switched to an Australian wine for a change last night. I mean, for my wine night, which is a friday. I have a bottle of wine once a week, for those of you that don't partake in the fun on twitter or facebook. It hit me harder than the wine has for a while, not that bad, but I got to bed and sleep a lot earlier than normal, at a decent time, so I might try the Australian again or keep switching. There is, of course, no logic in this, there is no reason why a particular quantity of alcohol would have a different effect depending on where it comes from, given that within region X I was having different ones anyway. But you've got to have a system, as Harry Hill would say.
that's all from me for now
Mo Of The Day: Mighty Mo