I loathe pretty much anything with pineapple in it but can in fact tolerate fresh pineapple. Do I get first prize for this week’s most inane and dull opener across the blogosphere? Oh I do hope so. Anyway, bear with me – all will become clear shortly. Someone offered me some dried fruit in a meeting last week. Oh the choice, shall I have the orange or the green or the yellow shoe leather? I foolishly plumped for a clump of small yellow triangly bits. Acccchhhhh! Spit. Growl. Choke. Wince dramatically. Meeting abruptly halts for at least four amazed seconds. Dried pineapple is satanfood it really is. Mango fine. Pineapple no. Then. Then. The next day by weird coincidence I woke up with Rupert Holmes’s classic No 1 hit Escape (The Pina Colada Song) whirling around gaily in my head. Did my brain make a random connection I wonder? Is it some weird form of OCD? Could I get the song out of my head? No. Did I listen to it about five times in a row really loud when I got to work? Yes. Oh how we laughed. Then I had to wiki Rupert Holmes. And then I just had to stop. Enough pineapple related torture already.
For some reason I was going to write something about Mystic Meg but have completely forgotten what it was now. So for now you will just have to listen to and watch the Pina Colada Song.
Bye for now.
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