Sunday, June 6, 2010

Taking the pith

Today I wasted a good minute pondering how many hours of my life I have spent waging war on pith. For it is an ongoing battle and one I'm not even entirely sure that I shall win.

But I hate pith. Creepy little tendrils of horrid taunting me by clinging to the delicious flesh of mandarins. Inhaling it by accident is like eating cobwebs discarded by particularly vindictive spiders - a boobytrap that I must circumnavigate with all the cunning that Indiana Jones would utilise if he thought that the Orange Orb of Succulence was a religious artefact the Nazis were keen to steal in order to gain both world domination and freedom from scurvy.

It appears that summer is no more in Sydney. Instead we've had three weeks of rain and I have made myself very unpopular by admitting that I like it. Locals tell me this much rain is not normal. Coming from Wellington, I do find it normal and am delighted by the fact that despite the rain, it's still warmish and there's very little wind.

A sad fact must be faced though, and that is that my tan is no more. Yes, I really am that shallow.


James said...

58 words in a sentence. I'm bored already.

Penelope said...

Pith lover.

bubbles said...

Fucking pith. Fucking, fucking pith.

Actually fucking pith wouldn't be very comfortable, would it?

Hey pith... how you doin'?

Nat said...

Pith Helmet?

Penelope said...

Nat - if you promise that you and your wife will visit wearing pith helmets, then I'll offer to cook you dinner and I won't poison it or anything.

Nat said...

Unfortunately I don't have a Zulu horde with which to capture enough of them