Bloody builders II

I think the builders just dropped a grand piano on the roof of my office. And they are singing falsetto duets.

Update

Bloody builders are on the roof of my office now. They are singing falsetto duets. This is hell.

Squeeeek

In the last few weeks my life has been assailed by new, bizarre noises. Its not just the experimental prog/electronica I listen to on the radio. Its builders. They're worse than possums. One bloke on our roof at the moment seems to be getting ready to audition for 'Priscilla: The Musical'. Every morning, he performs death-defying feats of falsetto while fixing our air conditioner. The air conditioner itself is a great source of bizarre noise. When on, it sounds like a 1960s soviet aircraft carrier is taking off in the middle of the room. Somehow, there are new weird noises at home as well. My dog has taken to squeaking like a rusty hinge when she thinks I'm going to take her for a walk. My new car, also, makes random little screeching sounds seemingly at random, but never when a mechanic is around. I think I'm going to make a sound recording of all of this and see if it helps my new career as an electronic avant-garde music genius.

Edwina Pickles

If I was going to write a novel I'd call one of the characters Edwina Pickles. Edwina Pickles is a photographer who works for the Sydney Morning Herald. I want to meet her mum and tell her she's a genius for naming her daughter Edwina Pickles.
This is just one of the really cool real life names I've come across lately. I keep getting forwards that have come through someone called Rod Hardman. Rod. Hard. Man. I have never met the bloke, but I think I want to sleep with him.
Then there's Sheila Shaver, an Australian academic whose name sounds like a brand of razors designed for women who hang out at wild country shearing shed parties.
I'm glad my real name is unpronounceable to many but otherwise not silly!