music from big pink

Actually, little pink. Sometime over the last decade, we stopped referring to our little fingers as...little fingers, and they became "pinkies". Little toes, I read at the weekend, are now pinkie toes.

What I want to know is why.

Similar to an ad on radio every morning as I drive to work, which says if you buy a bed from a local shop you will soon be pushing up "zees". All delivered in a perfectly standard Aussie accent.

Dog help us.

This exercise in tired reflexive anti-Americanism brought to you courtesy of VVB-by-the-sea which, because its inhabitants haven't really understood the consumer world since since the word "pinkie" was unknown in Australia, signed up for a new Tesltra broadband service at a Telstra shopfront, thus condemning us to getting our modem delivered by Australia Post who course expects us to come to the post office to collect it, which will be difficult given new workloads and so on. Because we didn't know you could go into a shop, a Harvey Norman for example which wishes to help you push up "zees", and buy a bloody modem and sign up for a bloody account and go home and get operational i-bloody-mmediately.

I wonder how we manage to get by at all, sometimes. We is out of touch, to be sure.

The next hurdle will be how to maintain access to Blogger and VVB after our e-mail address changes. I'm sure it's doable, but then I also once tried to get RSS feeds going.

That's another story.

I'd say watch this space but it'd be more realistic to suggest you go and watch grass grow.